#happy birthday to all the leap day friends out there :3

[yezzns]

Spending his break together — a Soobin drabble<3

pairings: Soobin x gn!reader

genre: fluff, comfort.

warnings: none! But pls let txt rest (I’m talking to you, HYBE employee reading fanfics for fan service purposes)

check out my masterlist | remember this is fictional!

You could see it in his eyes during video calls—the toll of constant comebacks and rehearsals. His dedication was unwavering, but his health was starting to suffer. His fans were literally begging on every social media for the company to give his group a break, but Soobin still came on camera with his beautiful dimpled smile and tried to reassure everyone that they were just fine. It didn’t take long to become more evident, though, to the point it was starting to worry you, too. Being an idol’s partner wasn’t fun all the time, you’d spent more time without him than with him, and you feared that asking him to take it easy would come out as selfishness.

But when his company finally granted him a long-term break, it was like a breath of fresh air. You received his call while at work, and the relief in his voice was palpable. "Guess who's coming home for Christmas?" he said, and your heart leaped with joy.

The moment you saw him at the airport, a mix of emotions washed over you. He looked tired but happy, and the tight hug you share says more than words ever could. "I've missed you so much," he whispered into your hair, and even with his enormous height he looked like a vulnerable child, just glad to be back.

With Soobin home, your days are filled with cozy nights in. You’d cook his favorite meals, catching up on all the moments you missed. He helps you decorate the Christmas tree, laughing as he tries to untangle the fairy lights. You make it a point to take care of him, ensuring he gets plenty of rest. You have lazy mornings with breakfast in bed, and some late night walks to play in the snow— even when the cold becomes unbearable.

Knowing how much Soobin values quality time, you plan a day of relaxation. You both decide to stay in the day of his birthday, lounging in comfortable clothes and catching up on all the shows and movies he's missed during his busy schedule.

Throughout the day, you surprise him with little gifts. A cozy sweater, a book he's been wanting to read, and a new pair of headphones. Each gift is wrapped with love, and his eyes light up with every unwrapping. "You always know exactly what I need," he says, giving you a warm hug. In the afternoon, you suggest baking a cake together. Soobin's laughter fills the kitchen as you both fumble with the ingredients, making a mess but enjoying every moment.

As the day turned into night, you led Soobin to a surprise party you'd secretly arranged with his friends and family. The moment he steps into the backyard, he's greeted with a chorus of "Happy Birthday!" And you could swear you’ve never seen him happier before. Back at home, as you both got ready for bed, Soobin wrapped his arms around you and murmured, "This has been the best birthday ever. Thank you for everything."

As the year comes to an end, you spend New Year's Eve together, reflecting on the past year and all you've been through. At midnight, he pulls you close, kissing you softly and promising that the coming year will be even better.

This time together strengthens your bond like never before. Soobin appreciates your support, and you cherish every moment spent with him. As his break comes to an end, you both know that no matter how busy life gets, your love is the constant that keeps you both going.

a/n: in honor of Soobin’s update 💗 I miss him so so so much but I’m so happy to know he’s resting and sharing with his family. I’m just hoping they’ll get the rest they deserve and come back healthier and more energized! This was really rushed so I’m sorry if it’s kind of bad, just felt like writing a something for Soob.

[pocketjoong]

❥𓂃𓏧BIRTHDAY SURPRISE

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (SYNOPSIS): Wooyung decides to surprise you on your birthday...twice!

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (PAIRING): Idol!Wooyoung x gn!reader

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (GENRE AND AU/TROPE): fluff. established relationship. a sprinkle of angst. sfw.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WARNINGS): just lots and lots of fluff. wooyoung is whipped for you.

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (WORD COUNT): 1.4k

ꕥ𓂃𓏧 (A/N): HAPPY BIRTHDAY TWINNIE @nebulousbrainsoup!! I hope you have the most amazing day ahead!! <3 I'm honeslty super super thankful to have met you, and it honestly makes me go 👁👄👁 when I look back at how far we've come in the last year (from being moots to being friends and you becoming a super important person to me). I love you so much and I hope you enjoy reading this lil wooyo floof!!

“Hi, love,” Wooyoung’s voice greets you warmly as the video call connects. In the background, the bustling activity of the other ATEEZ members winding down after their schedules in Japan is evident.

“Hi, Woo!” you reply, mustering a sleepy smile. You’d been woken by the vibrating of your phone and were about to turn it off when you realised who was calling you.

Upon hearing your voice, the ATEEZ members divert their attention to Wooyoung’s phone, their faces breaking into wide smiles upon recognizing who he was talking to.

“Look who’s here!” San exclaims excitedly, leaping over a couch to join Wooyoung. “Happy birthday!”

His cheerful words are echoed by the rest of the members, prompting Wooyoung to playfully complain about being beaten to the punch in wishing you.

“You should’ve wished them at midnight like I did,” Yeosang teases his friend, while Seonghwa smoothly intercepts the phone from him. “Happy birthday! Did this troublemaker wake you up? It’s probably super early where you are.” He frowns, trying to mentally calculate what time it is for you. “You’re like… more than half a day behind us, aren’t you?”

You grin at Seonghwa’s remark. “It’s all good; I needed to be up early anyway.”

“Why’s that? Isn’t it the weekend?” Yunho interjects, leaning in next to Seonghwa so that his face is visible to you.

“Your exams are done, so you can sleep in today! It’s your birthday after all,” Mingi adds, appearing on Seonghwa’s other side.

“I’m going out with friends for the day,” you explain.

“GIMME MY PHONE!!!” Wooyoung’s voice echoes through the screen, causing the other boys to flinch at the volume; you can also hear Hongjoong admonishing him to lower his voice. After a flurry of movement, Wooyoung reappears on the screen, having left the room. “Sorry about that. So, what else are you gonna do today?”

“I’m not sure honestly, my friends have a lot planned today, so I’m probably going to be with them for the rest of the day.”

“I wish I were there,” he sighs wistfully. Finding a table to perch on, Wooyoung hops onto it, yelping when it wobbles. You shake your head at his antics, cautioning him to be careful.

“I’m sorry I can’t be there for your birthday, love,” Wooyoung’s voice carries a hint of melancholy.

“It’s okay, honestly. I wasn’t there for your birthday either. Even though I tried to get a couple of days off from uni to go see you in Seoul,” you reply, offering him a reassuring smile. “When you come back here in a few weeks, we can go out and celebrate both our birthdays. Or stay in to do that. I wouldn’t mind either.”

“Let’s do that.”

Just then, the doorbell rings, and you frown in confusion; you aren’t been expecting anyone this early. Your friends had told you to be ready by 10, which is almost 4 hours away. Making small talk with Wooyoung, you head to the door to see who’s at the door.

“There’s a delivery for you,” the man at the door announces, presenting you with a beautiful bouquet of red geraniums, pink ranunculus, and white gardenias. Along with it, he hands you a small box from your favorite bakery.

Taking the gifts inside, you eagerly look through the bouquet for a card, your eyes lighting up with joy when you find one. Lost in the moment, you momentarily forget about Wooyoung, unaware of the silence that had fallen over the call.

My dearest,

Happy Birthday! Words fail to express just how thankful I am for your existence. I’m sorry that I can’t celebrate your day with you in person today, but I hope this small gesture can bring you even a fraction of the joy you bring into my life.

With this bouquet, I wanted to convey the depths of my love and admiration for you. Each day, I am profoundly grateful that fate brought us together, even if it began with the clumsy spill of coffee on your favorite white hoodie (my sincerest apologies for that).  I wouldn’t change it for the world because it gave me the greatest gift of my life: you.

Please enjoy your day to the fullest and celebrate yourself! I hope you can feel the love I’m sending from across the ocean.

Yours, always,

Wooyoung

P.S. I’ve also included assorted cupcakes from your beloved bakery!

Unbeknownst to you, tears well up in your eyes and a single droplet cascades down your cheek, landing softly on the card. Startled, you brushed the tear away, your gaze shifting to Wooyoung’s face on your phone screen.

“I love you,” you manage to say, too choked up to say anything else.

A warm smile spreads across Wooyoung’s face. “I love you too, tears and all.”

“You’re so unserious,” you teased, mustering a laugh despite the tears. “But thank you for this. It truly made my day.”

“Now, what are you waiting for?” Wooyoung’s playful tone fills the air once more. “Light a candle on that cupcake so I can serenade you with the best performance of ‘Happy Birthday’ that you’ve ever heard.”

A sudden clatter startles you awake, pulling you from the depths of slumber. Rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you wonder about the source of the noise, your mind still foggy with sleep. A muttered curse sends a jolt of apprehension through you – you are supposed to be alone. Quietly, you slip out of bed, reaching for your pepper spray and phone, prepared for the worst.

To your surprise, the intruder in the kitchen isn’t a stranger. Instead, you find a familiar black-haired figure rummaging through the refrigerator.

“Wooyoung?” you call out, lowering your defenses as you recognized the figure.

Caught off guard by your presence, Wooyoung jumps at the sound of your voice, accidentally bumping his head in the process.

“Ouch, love, why did you have to scare me like that?” Wooyoung pouts, massaging the back of his head as he turns to face you. His expression shifts from playful to apprehensive as he registers your presence.

“Well?” you prod, curious about his unexpected appearance in your kitchen considering he’s supposed to be in Japan and not in your kitchen. “What are you doing?”

“I was attempting to whip up some pancakes, but I seem to have botched it,” he confesses sheepishly, presenting the thin batter that fails to resemble pancake mix. “I may have gone overboard with the milk, and it appears we’re fresh out of pancake mix…”

“I do have more in the pantry, actually,” you chuckle at his bashful smile, handing him the unopened box. “What brings you here, though? Weren’t you supposed to return to Seoul later tomorrow?”

“I might have sweet-talked manager-nim into letting me come to see you earlier,” he confesses, pouring a cup of mix into the bowl and muttering a small ‘yay’ as it reaches the perfect consistency. “I couldn’t make it in time for your birthday, though. I had to take a connecting flight from LA, and then the drive was kinda long...”

“I’m not complaining. Now that you’re here, I’m not planning on letting you go,” you tease, wrapping your arms around his waist and burying your face into the warmth of his neck from behind.

“That doesn’t sound too bad, honestly,” he says with a smile, turning around in your embrace and gently rubbing his nose against your cheek before placing a tender kiss there. Unable to resist any longer, he leans in and plants a playful kiss on your lips. You can’t help but giggle as Wooyoung lifts you onto the counter, his hand tracing over your thighs.

“I missed you so much,” he murmurs against your lips, playfully nipping at them. Then, with a teasing flick of his tongue over your bottom lip, he pulls away and gestures toward the dining table. “Go sit down, or I’ll never finish breakfast.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t resist me,” you tease, playfully dodging when he attempts to catch you.

“The pancake is burning, you goof. Go rescue it,” you point toward the kitchen, hoping he’d heed your words.

Wooyoung shoots you a playful glare, torn between saving the pancake and indulging in a tickle fight. Duty wins over mischief, and you breathe a sigh of relief as he hurries off.

“I hope you know that I’m not letting this go so easily,” he calls back with a mischievous grin.

[pookalicious-hq]

endgame || pt. 2 to tolerate it

caitlin clark x reader (previous paige bueckers x reader) || previous: tolerate it || masterlist

notes: fluff, lmk if you guys want more caitlin stuff!! sorry for taking so long lmao, hope you like it <3

now playing: endgame by taylor swift

Endless streams of black silk flowed along her arms, down the small of her back, the weightless tule pooling at her feet. Gems stitched across the expanse caught sight of the flashing glares, absorbing the endless bursts of light. 

(Y/n) had been positioned at the beginning of the velvety carpet, the expanse of red spreading to the entrance of the 2024 WNBA draft.

With her smiles, she carried along her reputation. She held the weight of tonight's unknown outcomes atop her head, her chin never wavering. Soon, (Y/n) would take the first leap, discarding everything and everyone who dared to trap her in the past. 

Luckily, she wouldn’t be alone. 

“Caitlin! (Y/n)! To your left here, please!”

The two girls moved together in unison at the request. An arm clad in white made its way around (Y/n)’s waist, finding solace in the familiar position. Soft smiles were placed upon their features. Their presence swallowed the venue whole, demanding attention. 

Before, (Y/n) would’ve shied away from the sudden spotlight. She had been taught that seeking attention was greed, and only those who deserved it received it.

Now, she learned from someone else. 

She met a girl whose love contrasted with anything she’d ever learnt before. Every word the girl spoke had been dipped in nectar. Apologizes were sent along with flowers and warmth, there wouldn’t be room for doubt anymore. 

Ever since that night, days with Caitlin moulded into months. Savoured kisses were hidden behind curtains, bodies tangled beneath soft sheets. 

Anyone would assume they had been cut from the same cloth given their natural lines that effortlessly fit together. 

Now here they stood. After a lengthy conversation, the two eventually decided to make their first appearance together. 

Another thing Caitlin had drilled into (Y/n)’s mind; never change who you are.

They addressed no comments towards their relationship. Only offering welcoming replies, carefully steering from the unsaid questions that plagued everyone’s mind: what were (Y/n) and Caitlin to each other?

If they had real answer, they would’ve told any who asked. But, unfortunately that was still a question left unanswered between the two girls. 

Of course, they were friends. They had been friends ever since playing on the same team in seventh grade. They were friends who had shared each other’s first kiss. They were friends ever since they knew what it meant to want the princess, not the prince. 

Being friends was the safest option. They both lead a busy life. There wasn’t much they could do together but send a ‘happy birthday <3’ text when they lived (about) 1000 miles away.

Though, together now, there still lied this unanswered question. 

“Did I mention you look gorgeous, love?” 

Caitlin’s soft murmur travelled across the expanse of (Y/n)’s neck, the sensation sparking warmth throughout her body. She swept her gaze upwards towards the brunette, eyebrows raised playfully. 

“Yeah,” (Y/n) laughed, “like, three times already. You’re so dumb, Cait.”

Her last words were laced with love, of course, Caitlin knew what she was doing. After her comment, (Y/n) stepped out of Caitlin’s reach, continuing her path down the carpet. The brunette’s gaze trailed behind the deep cut of her black gown, she was never out of Caitlin’s sight.

It was a given that they would be separated tonight. Even before their arrival together, they had been the main topic of the night. Everyone wanted to talk to the all-time NCAA leading scorer from Iowa just as equally as they wanted to talk to the March Madness MVP from South Carolina.

Flash

“Please stand here for an interview, miss.”

“(Y/n), who are you wearing tonight?”

“Caitlin, how are you feeling?”

“Please sign my jersey, I love you guys so much!”

Every comment, instruction and praise was met with the genuine smile that places itself on her features. Her gown flowed along the carpet as she made her way towards her third interview of the night. However, her steady gait soon faltered as her gaze found an unexpected variable in her path. The shock rippled through her, momentarily freezing her in place. It had been months since they last spoke, since they last exchanged words that weren't filled with bitterness and hurt.

Paige's presence hit (Y/n) like a sudden gust of wind, stirring up memories that she had buried deep within herself. She remembered the laughter they’d shared, the late-night conversations, the warmth of Paige's embrace. Unfortunately, alongside those memories came the pain of their parting, the arguments, the tears, the lingering sense of resentment.

But, despite those average thoughts that came up on the topic of Paige, (Y/n) now felt something additional, something different. 

As she stood there, her gaze briefly catching Paige's figure in the crowd, a wave of indifference washed over her. It wasn't that (Y/n) harboured any ill will towards Paige—far from it. (Sure, if Paige tripped and fell in that moment she would laugh at her pain, but no one would know that.) She had long since disregarded her for the actions of the past. But forgiveness didn't equate to a desire to rekindle what once was.

Paige Bueckers had exited her life. Whether anyone else thought differently, it didn’t matter. 

Her performance over her college years had granted her a seat at the table. 

Well, her own table.

She stood atop the stage among teammates and competitors she’d met over the years. The only difference this moment held, they would all be happy for each other no matter the outcome. Every player here had earned this moment. 

And no one would doubt that (Y/n) and Caitlin deserved this moment. 

Hard work leads to rewards. 

But, hard work and raw talent lead to a spotlight reserved for the best.

The line defining the two is a delicate balance, one that is forced to put both against each other. Nevertheless, what the media depicts as a head-to-head is never the true case.

Throughout their careers, Caitlin and (Y/n) had unwillingly been placed on opposite sides of a scale. What others perceived as a rivalry, the two girls simply considered their competitive nature. Nevertheless, they found no reason to acknowledge the headlines.

Who would be granted the championship? 

Who would the title of MVP belong to?

Who would win? 

On that significant night, (Y/n) and Caitlin painted a masterpiece of determination and skill. As the clock dwindled to its final seconds, Caitlin conceded—it was (Y/n)'s turn to shine. And shine she did, her brilliance lighting up the court with a mesmerizing career high of 39 points.

South Carolina roared with triumph, claiming the championship banner, while (Y/n) (L/n) ascended to MVP status. Amidst the cacophony of celebration, whispers of debate lingered, but for most, there was no denying—she had earned her crown.

Now, on this electric draft night, (Y/n) waded through a sea of flashing lights and eager faces, her senses alive with anticipation. The air crackled with anticipation, pregnant with the promise of new beginnings and boundless opportunities. Yet, amidst the excitement, one question lingered—whose name would be called first?

With each step, purpose pulsed through (Y/n)'s veins, a steady rhythm guiding her forward. Tonight wasn't just about personal glory—it was the culmination of years of dedication, an opportunity to showcase her artistry on the grandest stage.

As she settled into her seat at the draft table, nerves and excitement tangled in her chest. The room buzzed with energy, a symphony of voices and whispered dreams. But amid the chaos, one figure stood out—Caitlin, a beacon of unwavering support, making her way to (Y/n) with purpose.

"Hey there, superstar," Caitlin's voice, a melody of pride and affection, washed over (Y/n) like a warm embrace. Leaning in, she planted a tender kiss on her lover's cheek, igniting a spark that danced across her skin.

(Y/n) returned the gesture with a soft smile, her heart overflowing with love. "Hey yourself," she murmured, reaching out to intertwine her fingers with Caitlin's, their connection a lifeline in the swirling chaos.

"Okay, sassy are we?" Caitlin teased, a playful twinkle in her eyes.

(Y/n) rolled her eyes in mock exasperation, her laughter a melody that danced through the air. At that moment, amidst the clamour of the crowd, they were a symphony unto themselves.

Though, soon enough, the minutes they were sharing vanished as the familiar chords sung, marking the beginning of the 2024 WNBA draft. The look shared between the two girls could only be described as duplicated. While their loving smiles spoke ‘good luck’, their eyes held nothing but determination. With one final squeeze to (Y/n)’s hand, Caitlin weaved back through the tables and took her seat. 

Truthfully, (Y/n) couldn’t give a damn about the speech that Cathy Engelbert was reading. The probably scripted words only added to the weight on her heart as she awaited her next team assignment. Despite the dragging minutes, she kept up a facade of interest for the camera.

“And now, we don’t have to wait any longer because the pick is in!”

Those words flipped a switch in (Y/n)’s mind, her senses sharpening as Cathy Engelbert took the stage, her heels clicking against the polished floor. Each click echoed through the room, a metronome counting down to the pivotal moment. The air was thick with tension, electric and charged, every breath laden with anticipation.

The moment drew closer and closer.

“With the first pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the Indiana Fever select…”

The words hung in the air, estatic with possibility. Everyone held their breath as the selection came down to two athletes. (Y/n) glanced over to Caitlin’s table, finding her already searching for her eyes.

“Caitlin Clark, University of Iowa!”

Time seemed to stand still for a moment, the room erupting in chaos as the crowd roared in ecstasy. (Y/n)’s heart thundered in her chest, adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was a rush, overwhelming and intoxicating.

With her eyes still locked onto Caitlin’s, she broke into a blinding smile, Caitlin mirroring her. In that moment, everything else faded into the background, the world narrowing down to just the two of them.

(Y/n) stood, her heart pounding, her pulse thrumming in her ears. Every step toward Caitlin felt like an eternity, the ground solid beneath her feet. Suspense hung in the air like a heavy fog, thick and suffocating.

With a barely contained laugh, she tumbled into Caitlin’s embrace, the world spinning around them. Nothing else mattered but the warmth of Caitlin’s arms around her, the sound of their shared laughter drowning out the noise of the crowd.

“You did it. You deserve this, Caitlin,” (Y/n) spoke, her voice ringing clear over the clamour of the crowd. Her words were a declaration, a testament to Caitlin’s strength and resilience. Her final words slipped out in a hush, “I love you.”

Amidst the cacophony of noise and celebration, Caitlin held onto (Y/n) as if she were the anchor in a tempest. Each beat of her heart reverberated with the pulse of the crowd, her senses heightened by the rush of adrenaline coursing through her veins. It was a moment suspended in time, a fleeting eternity of shared joy and boundless emotion.

As Caitlin finally released her grip, (Y/n) felt a bittersweet pang in her chest. Her heart swelled with pride for her friend, yet beneath the surface, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions threatened to overwhelm her. In another time, her stomach might have plummeted, her throat constricted by the weight of unshed tears. But now, amidst the chaos of the draft, she found only a sense of serene acceptance.

Her gaze lingered on Caitlin, the embodiment of success and possibility, as she stood adorned in her Indiana Fever jersey. In that moment, (Y/n) glimpsed the future unfolding before her, a future that held boundless potential and untold promise.

Returning to her own table, (Y/n) was met with sympathetic glances and unspoken assumptions. But she brushed them aside with a knowing smile, the genuine ecstasy of Caitlin's triumph shining through her features. For in that moment, she understood that second place held no sting, no bitterness. Caitlin's victory was her own.

The room buzzed with anticipation as the attention shifted to the second pick of the night, belonging to the LA Sparks. (Y/n)'s heart raced with a mix of nerves and excitement. She couldn't help but steal glances at Caitlin, who was now enveloped in the embrace of her family, her smile radiant with joy.

As the tension mounted, (Y/n)'s mind raced back to all the years of hard work and putting up with undeserved bullshit. She remembered the countless hours spent on the court, the sacrifices made, and the people she overcame. It had all led to this, the culmination of a lifelong dream.

But amidst the anticipation, there was a sense of contentment that washed over her. She had already achieved so much, and seeing Caitlin's success only fueled her determination. Her focus remained unwavering, her heart filled with pride for her lover.

And then, it happened.

"With the second pick in the 2024 WNBA Draft, the LA Sparks select... (Y/n) (L/n)!"

The words echoed through the room, but Mayari hardly registered them at first. It was as if time stood still, her mind unable to comprehend the magnitude of what had just been announced.

But then, reality crashed over her like a wave. The cheers of the crowd filled her ears, and she felt a surge of emotion welling up inside her. The room seemed to spin, the lights blurring into a dazzling array of colours as she stood, her legs trembling with a mix of exhilaration and disbelief. The warmth of the moment enveloped her, and with every beat of her heart, she felt the weight of everything she had worked for lifting off her shoulders.

Just then, amidst the applause of the crowd, she heard melodic notes of her name being called out.

Suddenly, (Y/n)’s world tilted on its axis as she was swept up into Caitlin’s embrace. Their gazes locked smiles mirroring one another in joyous ecstasy. The sounds of the cheering crowd seemed to fade, replaced by the pounding of her own heart and the warmth of Caitlin's arms around her. 

"I love you too," Caitlin whispered, her voice barely audible over the roar of the crowd.

(Y/n) felt her heart swell, her emotions threatening to overflow. They rested their foreheads against each other, their breaths mingling as they shared the profound intimacy of the moment. It was as if the world had fallen away, leaving just the two of them in their shared victory.

The fans in the crowd went wild, their cheers and applause creating a wave of sound that crashed over the two girls. Cameras flashed, capturing the raw emotion etched on their faces. It was a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, one that neither of them would ever forget.

As they finally pulled apart, (Y/n) felt a laugh bubble out of her throat, the sound drawing an admirable expression from the brunette. She turned to face the stage, her heart pounding with excitement and anticipation. This was it—the moment she had dreamed of for so long.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/n) made her way to the stage, the cheers of the crowd propelling her forward. She felt the warmth of their support, the love and pride radiating from every corner of the room. This was her moment, a testament to all the hard work, the sacrifices, and the unwavering determination that had brought her here.

As she stepped onto the stage to accept her LA Sparks jersey, she glanced back at Caitlin, who was watching her with a look of pure, unadulterated pride. (Y/n) knew, in that moment, that they had both achieved something extraordinary and that this was just the beginning of their journey.

With the weight of the jersey in her hands and the future spread out before her like a vast, open sky, she felt a profound sense of peace and accomplishment. The journey had been long and arduous, filled with moments of doubt and resilience, but standing there under the bright lights, she knew it had all been worth it.

As she held up the jersey, a symbol of her new beginning, her eyes swept across the sea of faces, each one a blur of colors and emotions. The lights above her were warm, casting a golden glow that bathed the room in a surreal, dreamlike quality.

Her gaze found Paige amidst the cheering crowd. Paige's smile was radiant, her eyes glistening with unshed tears, her expression a blend of pride and a quiet acknowledgment of their shared past. The sounds of applause and cheers seemed to fade into the background, replaced by the rhythmic thudding of (Y/n)'s heart. The moment hung in the air, thick with unspoken words, a silent reconciliation and mutual respect woven between them.

(Y/n)'s heart swelled, a rush of warmth spreading through her chest, filling her with a deep sense of closure and peace. She returned Paige's smile, a genuine and heartfelt gesture, before her gaze naturally found its way back to Caitlin. Caitlin's eyes sparkled with joy, her love and pride shining brightly, grounding (Y/n) in the whirlwind of emotions surrounding her.

Caitlin's eyes were bright with joy and love, reflecting everything (Y/n) felt in that moment. The applause of the crowd seemed to fade into the background as they shared a private, intimate moment amidst the public celebration. Caitlin, in all her seriousness, blew (Y/n) a kiss, a tender gesture that drew a smile out from her. (Y/n), with a smile, reached out as if to catch it and then graciously tucked it into her pocket.

As she stood there, the weight of her journey lifted, she knew this was the beginning of a new chapter. With Caitlin's silent encouragement echoing in her mind, she felt ready to embrace whatever came next. The next step would be difficult, but it was hers to shape, and she would no longer be alone.

a/n: IM SO SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG SHIT'S BEEN TOUGH. anyways hope you liked it, if you wanna see more cc x reader lmkk also next chapter of midnight love will come out soon IM SERIOUS I PROMISE DON'T HATE ME

anyways thank you for the support love you guys, mwah <3

taglist: @kenzie-luvzz , @idratherbesleepingrn , @h34rtsformilli , @pinkandlilacroses , @i-bribri-i , @thatonemarvelfan03 , @girlokwhatever , @ihrtthotdads , @kc88888888 , @nfleditsrjustbetteridk , @imsobabygiirl , @vi0lentb3rry , @sejus-wife , @katemlk , @littlelesbianinternujung, @ktaerssoi, @evangelinexo , @c999sh , @yazmunson , @choibeomkai , @ekisokay

[buckiverse]

Sweet Surprises

inspired by eternal attachment :3

contents: fluff, suggestive if you squint, angst if you squint. friends-to-lovers vibe. confession *heart eyes*. 

summary: you tried to surprise zayne for his birthday but it failed. 

word count: 1.4k

notes: I havent written in so long, forgive any typos

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★It was the day before Zayne’s birthday, and your procrastination caught up to you as you stared at various ingredients. “Vanilla…chocolate…strawberry… maybe I bought too many base flavors,” you muttered. You sorted through the assortment of toppings—macaroons, blueberries, even edible flowers. Who knew you could flavor a cake with flowers? 

★You and Zayne had often talked about his love for sweets, but nothing compared to the day you both stood before the macaroon display at your favorite cafe. 

“What flavor are you gonna get, Zayne?” you asked, already eyeing a few of your favorites. 

He grinned slightly, “what if we get them all?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Get them all? And put them where??”

“In my fridge, of course,” he replied as if it was the most obvious solution in the world.

“Even so, we can’t finish all these by ourselves. How about we pick a few.” 

Zayne leaned closer, his voice softening, “Each macaroon not only tastes good but tells its own little story. Let’s try them all, hmm?”

★You smiled at the memory, whispering, “He’s so cute,” but your smile faded as you remembered the decision ahead. Zayne’s tastes in desserts made choosing the right one for his birthday even harder. And time was running out—this was supposed to be a surprise. 

★Another critical mention: you are a terrible baker. Between your hectic schedule as a hunter and lack of practice, you barely had time to eat properly, let alone learn how to bake. You glanced at the cookbook, the pages worn from your frantic flipping. Then it struck you—why not combine two things he loves? A macaroon cake! A… “cakaroon,” you mused.

★You decided on a chocolate base, grabbing flour, eggs, sugar, and cocoa powder. You mixed them, clumsily splashing batter onto Zayne’s counters. As you worked, one of your favorite songs began to play, and you softly sang along, your mind drifting back to memories with Zayne. 

★It all started when you were kids playing together. Zayne was always the quiet, stoic type, making teasing him all the more fun. As you both grew older, life pulled you in different directions. You moved to another part of Linkon with your granny; years had passed without seeing him before you knew it. One day, you landed a job at the Hunters Association, which came with a new health plan and a new doctor. You still remember the shock when you realized your new primary care physician was Zayne. At first, you thought it was a coincidence—after all, Zayne isn’t an uncommon name. But then, he walked in, the same Zayne you’d known since childhood, standing before you—a man now. 

★The truth is, you always liked Zayne. But you never quite knew how to communicate that. Maybe this cake could be a way of saying, “Happy birthday—by the way, I like you.” 

★You finished mixing the batter and poured it into two cake pans. “Mmh,” you nodded as you slid them into the oven. “Things are going good. I hope he likes this,” you thought, allowing yourself a moment of hope. 

★You sat on a stool by the kitchen island, glancing at the clock and humming to music. Suddenly, you heard the click of the front door. “Shit!” You thought, leaping out of your seat so fast you nearly slipped. During your panic, Zayne walked into the room. 

“y/n?” he called, his voice laced with confusion. He approached, reaching for your arm. 

You turned, face flushing. “Hey…” you said, trying to keep calm as you stood up slowly. 

“Why are you here?” Zayne asked, his brows furrowed. 

“I—I was going to surprise you,” you stammered, feeling your cheeks heating up.

“But it seems you got off work sooner than I thought….” 

Zayne looked at you, his gaze softening. But that didn’t stop you from talking. “I—I planned to surprise you, you know. Your birthday is so soon, and I know you love sweets. So I bought all these ingredients, lost track of time because I couldn’t decide what to do, and then looked up. You got home sooner than I thought, but I wanted the cake ready when you got here because this is supposed to be a surprise.” You stumbled over your words, going on and on about your plans for his birthday. 

Your cheeks heated up when you realized Zayne was smiling at you—that half-smile he always did when amused. 

A playful glint struck his eyes, “Should I leave and come back in an hour to give you more time to finish?” 

His teasing made your face even hotter, and you couldn’t help but laugh nervously. “No, no! I—well, I just wanted it to be perfect, that’s all,” you mumbled, looking down.

Zayne flashed that half-smile and stepped closer, gently lifting his hand to touch your cheek. “I don’t dislike it.”

The alarm for the forgotten cakes went off, breaking the tension between you two. You quickly turned and rushed to the oven, pulling the cakes out before they burned.

“Why don’t we finish the cake together?” Zayne suggested, his voice still light with amusement.

You placed the cakes on the counter, almost burning yourself as the hot pans grazed your fingertips. Zayne leaned over to inspect them, a teasing grin on his lips. “These are quite lopsided,” he remarked.

You blushed profusely, realizing you didn’t level out the batter earlier. Still feeling a little embarrassed, you watched Zayne walk over to his cabinets, pulling out a small container of toothpicks. 

He took one out and handed it to you. “Try this. Stick it in the center. If it comes out clean, they’re done.” 

You took the toothpick and gently pushed it into the cake. Relief washed over you as it came out completely clean. “Looks like it’s ready.”, you said, glancing up at Zayne’s emerald eyes. 

He carefully lifted the pans and placed them on the stove burners to cool. “What flavor were you thinking for the icing?” he asked, his tone more curious now. 

“I was planning on a raspberry filing,” you replied, your voice softening. “Like the macaroons we got a couple of weeks ago.” 

Zayne’s eyes lit up at the memory. “Indeed, that’s an excellent choice.” 

The two of you worked side by side, mixing fresh raspberries, chocolate shavings, and cream. The icing filled the kitchen with a sweet and tangy scent. As you stirred the ingredients together, a thought crossed your mind, and you couldn’t help but voice it.

“Do you ever get lonely?” you asked, your tone more vulnerable than intended. 

Zayne paused, his brows furrowed slightly as he considered the question, “Why do you ask?” 

You hesitated, then continued, “I was just thinking…  You’re working the day before your birthday. Doesn’t that get lonely? You spend so much time helping others, but who’s there for you?” 

He sighed softly, his gaze dropping to the mixing bowl. “I love my work. It’s fulfilling to perform surgeries and make a difference. But, yes, I suppose there are moments when I feel alone. What about you?” 

You stared at the swirling mixture, the vibrant red of the raspberries reminding you of the warmth that had once filled your life. “Sometimes, I’m too busy hunting wanderers to notice how I feel. I often convince myself I’m okay because I don’t have time to think otherwise. But lately, especially since Granny and Caleb passed—it’s been harder. Their absence is always there, even if I try not to feel it. “

Zayne’s hand reached out, gently covering yours. The touch was soft, but it broke through the fog of your thoughts. You looked up to find his eyes filled with sincerity, a quiet understanding that words couldn’t convey. 

“I’m here for you,” he whispered, his voice steady and reassuring. 

The loneliness that weighed so heavily on you seemed to lift for a moment. You moved your hand to hold Zayne’s fully, feeling the warmth of his palm against yours. In that shared silence, you knew you weren’t alone. 

Zayne gazed deeply into your eyes, wanting to see the soul that lay beneath. Tranquility filled the room, and the gentle strings of music were the only sound that broke the silence. 

Zayne leaned in closer, your lips almost touching; the tension between you was palpable. 

You lifted yourself, balancing on your tiptoes. Gently, you kissed Zayne's lips, feeling your heart skip a beat as your lips met his.

The kiss was soft, yet it carried an intensity that spoke of the emotions brewing deep within you. Your heart raced as he held you close, your veins pulsating beneath your skin. 

He slowly pulled away from the kiss, his emerald eyes never leaving yours.

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what did ya'll think :333

planning on writing a pt 2 maybe

ignore that I did not finish coding the stars LMAO

[bumpkinspice0]

Recovery Time: Chapter 6

Joel Miller x Fem!Reader

No use of y/n

Rating: Mature

Word Count: 4.2k

Summary: You throw Joel a Birthday party... and end the night with a dance

Warnings: Angst soothed away by fluff, verbal fight, Past trauma, Joel has big feelings and some dirty thoughts, mutual pining

Series Masterlist

Previous - Next

AO3

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Chapter 6: Happy Birthday Joel Miller

It’d been 3 days since he let his birthday date slip and you’d been plotting ever since.

You stand nervously in the kitchen just waiting for him to come back home— and you feel like a fucking idiot. The sun had set. He went out to check the traps 45 minutes ago. You’d turned on the generator less than 30 minutes ago and pulled his birthday cake, a bastardized version of apple crisp, out of the oven 20 minutes ago. Now you’re just… standing there. Staring at the door. Like a fucking idiot. 

You’re nervous for absolutely no reason other than this was a surprise. You’d been nervous just thinking about it all day. Your nerves were apparently so obvious that he asked if you were alright a handful of times. You weren’t too good a lying but you managed to get him off your sent. You want it to be perfect, but you don’t even know what that means. This wasn’t really a traditional party. Hell, this wasn’t even a party. It was a night to take a load off. To relax. To forget about… everything. An illusion really. A chance to pretend that everything was okay.

This was Joel’s night, his first since he got here. Whatever he wanted. A ‘thank you for tumbling into my life, I think we’re friends now’ party. 

But maybe this was stupid after all. Childish and dumb. You should quit while you're ahead. Turn off the generator and say you just made some apple crisp for shits and giggles. You should—

Your heart nearly leaps through your throat when the door opens. Gus rushes in first, slowly followed by Joel. He looks… confused. Reasonable reaction.

“What’s… what’s this?” He asks slowly, glancing around at the random strung Christmas lights crisscrossing the ceiling. He’d surely seen the ones strung across the yard too, “You turned on the generator?”

“I did.” You answer with a small smile.

He slowly paces around the living room, blanketed in golden rainbow light.

“For?”

“Your belated birthday,” You raise your hands and give some weak spirit fingers, “Surprise.”

He pauses, facing away from you. You see his shoulders tense, the rest of him almost frozen in place. The telltale sign he was uncomfortable. Oh no. You immediately feel like you need to explain yourself. The words come pouring out of you at lightspeed before you give him a chance to say anything.

“I-I know a lot of people don’t feel like there isn’t anything to celebrate anymore, I did too, but you deserve it. Everyone deserves something. I know it’s not much but I made… Well, it’s not a cake but it’s like apple crisp and you can have the stereo playing as long as you want. The TV too. We don’t have the best movie selection but you can pick whatever you want tonight. I even brought up a bottle of wine. I know it’s not—”

“Stop,” His gravel voice cuts through your stammering in an instant. “Just… stop it.”

Suddenly the air feels heavy. You’d done something. You’ve offended him somehow.

“I– I’m sorry. Did I—”

“I told you,” He turns around, an anger in his eyes you hadn't seen before. Or… maybe it was pain? You instantly feel small. “I fucking told you to forget it.”

You’ve overstepped. Massively overstepped. You fucked up. Oh god, you fucked up.

“I just wanted to—I know you—”

“You don’t know anything.” He spits, taking a step closer. You reflexively take a step back. You know he’d never hurt you, but fuck he was terrifying, “You don’t know a goddamn thing about me. Stop actin’ like you do.”

His voice booms, threatening to shake the log cabin walls. Even Gus cowers behind you. He’s scary. He’s absolutely terrifying. The silence that lingers is somehow even louder than his outrage. You don’t want to say anything else. You don’t think you could if you tried.

Even if you could speak, it wouldn’t matter anyway. He turns to leave almost immediately, slamming the door behind him. 

You fucked up.

________________

Joel stumbles in the dark out past the property, the glow of lights fading in the distance. 

He wants to scream. He wants to find something and kill it. He wants to cut a hole in his head so all the memories can come pouring out and he’ll never have to feel them again. He wants to be numb. He wants to be free of this, even though he knows he never could be.

Her face is still crystal clear in his mind, just like it was every day. That sweet smile. Big curly hair. Those bright eyes you could never say no to– Sarah. His beautiful, perfect daughter. The only person he’s certain he’d ever truly loved. The one who deserved to live. He wants to purge every memory of her but never let them go simultaneously. How could you just forget the best thing that ever happened to you? He tried to. For years he tried.

No parent should ever have to bury their child. The pain never stopped. The bottomless pit he could never dig himself out of. It’s like it happened yesterday. And tonight you brought it all boiling to the surface. Things he fought so hard for years to keep buried ten feet deep.

Fuck you. Fuck you for doing this to him. 

A frustrated roar rips from his throat as his fist makes contact with the closest tree. The pain is instant and only serves as a distraction for a few fleeting seconds. Still, it’s more welcome than the boiling cauldron of other emotions brewing. 

Anger. Betrayal. Sadness. 

Guilt seems to blanket over all of them now that the initial rage is fading. The look on your face while he screamed at you is something that’ll be tattooed on his mind forever.  You didn’t deserve this, him and all the fucked up baggage he came with. You’d been nothing but kind since you dragged him here and tonight he spat in your face.

You were like her in a way— Like Sarah. Stubborn and too damn smart for your own good. A compassionate soul that wanted to share it with others. Someone who always had a positive outlook on life. What did you blurt in the middle of your stammering? 

Everyone deserves something.

If only you knew how wrong that was when it came to him. Joel deserved the early grave he dug for himself, but you came along and pulled him out of it— and this is how he repays you?

You didn’t know. There’s no way you could have— and yet that still doesn’t seem to ebb away any of the anger still simmering just under the surface. ‘Is that all I am anymore?’ Joel thinks. ‘An angry old man?’ He didn’t want it, all this hate. He wanted to be better for you.

You don’t know a goddamn thing about me. That’s what he spat at you— but whose fault was that? You tried. You tried so hard for him to let you in, and he always shut the door in your face.

You saw him like a bird with a broken wing, fallen from its nest. Something innocent that needed help that only your skillful hands could deliver. If only you knew what he really was. 

He wanted to protect you from himself in a way. If you knew everything he’d done, everything that made his brother run from him, you'd never look at him like you do. He’s caught your passing glances a few times, those beautiful eyes peering around the corner— studying him like a bug. But if you knew him, really knew him… You’d probably never want to see him again. Just like Tommy. 

Maybe he’s really just protecting himself in the end. That’s what he’s good at. 

It felt good to be desired. Not for his skills or connections, but just as a man. That faint swell of masculine pride and desire pumps in his chest, he’d almost forgotten what it felt like. You did that to him.

You wanted him. 

He wanted you back. Badly. 

You both spend your entire days together, yet when he goes to bed at night you’re still all he can see when he closes his eyes. He’s not sure when it happened. Daydreams of you he’s ashamed of. Would you be like how he imagines? What would you taste like? How would his name sound lustfully drooled out of your mouth? 

He’s found relief by his own hand one too many times just thinking about it, but he somehow just knows his imagination will never compare. 

And he’ll never find out.

He can’t. He can’t stay here. Someone like him was a cancer in your home. He knew that. He knew it.

And even so, the prospect of leaving you here alone was getting harder and harder to imagine. 

A sharp ruff from behind pulls him from his thoughts. He turns to see Gus standing, all four paws planted and squared for a fight. Joel worries for a moment he’ll have to fight this damn dog off but he doesn’t make a move. If Gus wanted a fight he would have pounced on him when his back was turned. No, the dog wanted his attention. 

Gus sits, huffing an annoyed grunt as he does so. Somehow the message in the animal's movements rings clear. 

Our girl’s upset because of you. Get back there. Get back there and fix this.

Joel groans, sliding down to the ground against the tree he just assaulted. “I really fucked up, didn’t I?” he asks the dog, sighing into his hands. The dog huffs again and cocks his head. ‘Intuitive little thing,’ Joel thinks.

Part of him just wants to stay here. Sleep out in the freezing cold and come back in the morning and pretend nothing ever happened. An unlikely scenario since he knows for a fact you’d come hunt him down eventually and scold him for staying out in the cold so long. It begs the question though, could you both just ignore this? Forget about it and move on. Probably, but he doesn’t want to.

You deserve an apology. You deserved something from him, even if he couldn’t tell you why. He can’t tell you about Sarah. Fuck, he can’t tell anyone about Sarah. He doesn’t owe you an explanation but maybe he could fix the night. Give something back, just say thank you, anything. 

Just as long as you wouldn’t completely hate him, he’d be happy.

Lilly comes wandering up and takes a defensive seat next to Gus and it’s the final kick in the ass he needs.

With your little family sitting in front of him, waiting for him to get off his ass and make things right, he slowly raises back to his feet. 

He sighs, leaning against the tree. He’s not as tired as he used to be a few weeks ago. He can bear some weight on his leg again. You did that. You put him back together again. You fixed him. He can fix one night. 

“Time to be a man, Miller.”

____________________

The tears came so suddenly. It’s embarrassing, which only makes you cry harder. You sit there in the kitchen corner weeping into your hands like a teen girl on prom night that got stood up. Yeah, embarrassing.

You must look particularly pathetic because even Gus didn’t stick around to comfort you.

Why did this bother you so much? You’d been called every name in the book working as an apocalypse medic. You’d seen death countless times, you’d told families they’d never see their loved one again, you’d been through absolute hell at the hands of others, so why did a few harsh words from Joel stab so deep?

Because it was him. Because you wanted something from him. It wasn’t quite rejections… but it was close.

Part of you wanted to scream at him too, find out what his fucking problem is. You offer him home comforts and he does this? Childish. The other part of you thinks he’s right. He told you to forget it and you went ahead anyway, thinking it would all be fine.

 He was right. You didn’t know anything about him. Almost nothing. He wouldn’t let you in. 

But why should he? Why should anyone? He didn’t owe you his life story or undying loyalty because you did what any rational good person should do. Yes, you saved his life, but something like that isn’t weighed in favors and secrets. It doesn’t require repayment.

Joel didn’t owe you anything.

So why did you really try to throw this little party? For you. For selfish, arrogant reasons. You were looking for something to make you feel human again and this was the best option. Everything in your life had to be justified. There can’t be enjoyment just for enjoyment's sake. Everything had to be done for a reason— and tonight he was that reason. Joel Miller was making you feel human again.

When the second realization about his birthday hits you, the pit in your stomach drops even deeper. 

You knew the date seemed so familiar, probably because you wanted to forget it. Everyone did. September 26th, the day the world ended. Joel’s birthday was on fucking outbreak day. Of course he’d want to forget whatever horrors he’d seen that day. Every year a constant reminder. What a horrible coincidence to carry with you. Terrible luck of the draw. 

Still, in the absolute mess you find yourself in, you’re still angry. You’re angry at him. Frustrated he’d talk to you that way. React so callously and scold you like a child for trying to do something kind. Suddenly, it feels like you’re back at square one with him. You want to scream at him, you want apologize profusely— you just want to cry.

You’re not sure how long you sit on the kitchen floor but eventually the tears stop— and then the door opens.

You pop up from the floor, wiping your cheeks one last time with your sleeve as if that would even hide your red puffy eyes.

He stands there in the open doorway, remorse painted on his pitiful face. Good.

“Darlin’... have you been—”

“I’m fine,” You spit, wiping your face in the most threatening way you can manage, “Here to yell at me more?”

“I’m not—” He cuts himself off, turning to close the door. Gus and Lilly scurry in before he does so. They immediately come to sit at your feet. Did they… go get him for you? Well, at least you know whose side they’re on now. Joel scratches at his neck, seemingly unable to make eye contact, “I don’t suppose I’m sorry is enough here.”

“It’s a start,” You cross your arms and lean back against the counter, letting out a heavy sigh of your own. You were angry, yes, but he’s allowed to be angry too. He made a boundary and you deliberately stepped over it thinking everything would be fine. He’s not the only one at fault, “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry too.”

His head instantly snaps in your direction, “You have nothing to be sorry for. I just—you— I didn’t expect— I’m sorry. There are things that I just don’t—”

He stammers and trips over his words but the message is clear. He’s trying. He’s really trying and that counts for something, however small. 

“You wanna… talk about it?” You extend an olive branch.

“No.” he bites out just a little too quickly. You see him immediately kick himself for how harshly it came out. There was more here than met the eye— you decide to drop it. If he doesn’t want to say, then it’s not your damn business. 

Again, You were both at fault here. You for sticking your nose where it didn’t need to be and him for just being an ass about it. You were both being children here. 

Time to grow up.

You start, “I’ll turn this all off. You don’t have to—”

“No,” He cuts you off abruptly, “It’d be a waste to— You went through the trouble I mean.”

You smile, “Would you still like to have a birthday party, Mr. Miller?”

“I–” he pressed his lips together, suppressing some more outrage, “Can we— let’s call it something else. Please.”

“Okay,” you nod quietly. Not a birthday party. That’s just fine. It’s still his party. You take down two glasses and pour some chokecherry wine. You push his glass closer. He’s hesitant at first but eventually comes to the counter. He takes his glass and you raise yours to his. “To an ongoing recovery.”

He huffs a small smile and tinks his glass to yours, “To not dyin’, I suppose.”

You can’t help but cringe when the simultaneously bitter and overly sweet liquid hits your tongue. You notice he does the same. You’d hoped a year of sitting dormant in the cellar would help the flavor calm down— apparently not.

“Wow, that’s... something,” He wheezes, swirling the remaining liquid in his glass.

“Yeah, it is. But like I said—” You exhale before downing the rest of your glass, “It gets the job done and I haven’t gone blind yet.”

You hold your resolve for a few seconds, feeling rather proud of yourself, before breaking into a coughing fit from the burning in your throat. 

“Jesus Christ, girl,” Joel pats your back in an attempt to comfort you, despite the smile plastered on his face. Well, at least he’s smiling, even if you look like an absolute moron right now. 

“Smoothest in the county,” You wheeze, wiping a stray tear from your eye. You feel the heat in your cheeks rising and you can’t help but laugh at yourself a little. He tries to hide it but he does the same.

“You really are something, Darlin’,” He grins, taking another, much smaller, sip from his glass.

 And just like that, the air between you two was breathable again.

“So,” Joel leans against the counter, arms crossed, “What do you usually do on nights like this?”

“Well, this is your party,” you lean next to him, “What would you like?”

He opens his mouth for a millisecond before closing it again. He turns away from you, eyes darting to the ground. What was he thinking about? What was he going to say?

“You said you have music?” He asks. You absolutely know that’s not what he was originally going to ask, but you still gesture to the far corner of the living room where the dusty stereo and cassette collection lay.

He strolls over, taking a cursory glance at the packed shelf. Art may have liked the isolation but he kept a good collection of music to keep him sane. One of the few things you think he loved just for the sake of it. So many things here had to have a purpose, a reason for existing in this well-maintained space. Something to aid in basic survival. Music probably did, in a way, have a purpose here. All anyone had to gain from it was joy. A memory. A feeling. Just another thing to make you feel human again.

Joel makes his selection and places it in the tape player with a defined click. You expect to hear Johnny Cash or something like what he’s been teaching himself to play for the last few weeks. Instead— he’s picked Elton John. Art had a ‘best of’ collection of his work. Admittedly one of your favorites in the tape collection.

The familiar slow, melodic piano rumbles through the ancient speakers. You recognize the song instantly. An unexpected choice but not unwelcome either. 

Don’t Let the Sun Go Down On Me

Joel stands with a small grunt and turns to face you, hand outstretched.

“Dance with me.”

Your brows immediately shoot up, “Dance with you?”

“This is my party, isn’t it?” he drawls, “You said we can do what I want. I want a dance.”

You say nothing, dragging your fingers across the counter before making your way towards him. Every hair on your body stands on end as you approach. He stands there waiting in the center of the living room, bathed in mismatched Christmas lights. 

You suppress a gasp when you take his hand and he pulls you into him, flush against his chest. Hesitantly your hand goes up to his shoulder while he lowers his to the small of your back. You swear the sensation of his massive hands on you sends sparks shooting down your legs. He starts to sway you both gently in rhythm.

“I don’t really know how to dance,” You admit.

“Me neither,” he responds, “Learned a little in high school, though.”

“How long ago was that?”

“Oh, back when stagecoaches were still new.” He scoffs, pulling you away for a slow and somewhat clumsy twirl, “To be fair it was just square dancin’.”

“Oh, well, this is prime square dancing music.” You attempt to joke, hiding your reddening face against his chest. He huffs a small laugh and rests his chin on your head. It’s more intimate but at least you don’t have to look him in the eye now. You just barely hear his heartbeat above it all. Strong and steady, a little faster than you expected. You try to lose yourself in music, hoping it will ease your new anxieties that boil over from just being this close to him.

I can't find, oh, the right romantic line

But see me once and see the way I feel

Don't discard me just because you think I mean you harm

But these cuts I have, oh, they need love to help them heal

Don't let the sun go down on me 

Although I search myself, it's always someone else I see

I'd just allow a fragment of your life– to wander free

The chorus is grand and beautiful, nothing that should be associated with Joel and your awkward side-to-side swaying. And yet… it seemed so right. The two of you were so small, and somehow the only thing that mattered in the world.

In your time living at the end of the world, you’ve found it’s not the acts of heroism and grand gestures that kept you going. It was the small things. A hello. A hug. Drinking the worst wine in the world and having an awkward dance with a practical stranger. A kiss. The small things.

And even though this was his night, you still got what you wanted— you felt human again.

“Happy… recovery, Joel.”

“Thank you, darlin’.”

___________________________

It was perfect. He didn’t want to admit it, but it was. He can’t recall the last time he’d listened to music for reasons beyond getting code from Frank. He can’t even recall the last movie he’d watched. No… No, that’s not true. It was ten years ago on his couch. Has it really been ten years? He does his best to push the memories aside and just enjoy the moment.

Yet here he was in almost the same exact place he was all those years ago when his life changed forever. The irony is not lost on him. And in a way he doesn’t quite understand, it felt… healing. Like he was facing something. Or maybe he’d finally laid some feelings to rest.

You lay there asleep, head resting on his shoulder while some western he’d never heard of played on the ancient little box TV in the background. You’d made a cake. You’d made popcorn, the whole nine yards. It was so domestic. A treat, you called these nights. 

You were right, he supposes. A chance to just pretend everything was okay. To live like normal people used to. A night to not worry about all the challenges tomorrow brought and fall asleep watching some boring movie you’d never heard of. The new American dream. 

A treat.

Even if it was all a fantasy, he’s happy you shared it with him. Just another thing he can never repay you for. 

What could he ever give you that could ever compare to what you’d given him? Himself— he could give you himself, maybe. In a way, his life was already yours. You’d saved it, after all. But if he gave it to you, would you want it? If he took off his mask and showed you the monster that was underneath would you run?

Yes, of course you would. 

Despite everything that happened here, good things didn’t happen to Joel Miller. He was a walking curse, plague and death following in his wake. If he stayed here, he’d drag you down to hell with him. It’s what always happens. 

He can’t let this continue. He can’t let his selfish desires win and take over. 

He had tonight with you, and that’d have to be enough.

[beacarrot]

New Year's Bag.

Hey, hey, hey, hey,

Ladies and gentlemen!

Turn on the cameras and blessed lights,

There's fresh champagne in the tank tonight,

No one ever learned how to write "Réveillon,"

Pick a good playlist and make us believe,

"What a year!"

They say, staring at their own faces,

Hoping to spot something new in old places.

I replay my memories as a third-party view,

These are the things we can't construe,

Yet we yield,

Drawn to life's inexplicable appeal,

And so it goes,

And so it comes,

There's sadness on one side of the table,

There's joy on the other, as much as we're able,

But I've never known my left from my right,

My head was made to mix up the light,

Always,

Always, that's what my mind seems to say.

Glitter floods the restaurant floor,

Each one wears a color, yet craves something diferent and something more,

There's always someone who shouts too loud,

There's always a glass that shatters the crowd,

Somewhere there's a leap,

A leap over waves so deep,

Anyway, just play "Firework" by Katy Perry,

Silence settles, and my mind feels unwary,

Can you recall the anticipation?

And suddenly, they count: 1, 2, 3...

Happy New Year!

I want you with me when we go to 25,

I want you with me when we go to 25,

Do you want me too?

I don't want a restart,

To restart means something must end,

And I don't want to lose what's been, my dear friend,

I feel like I haven't felt enough, but I'm all in,

All in for this idea of new paths to begin.

Obstacles die, obstacles rise,

Something changes, it makes me cry,

I'm not that good at letting go.

I know,

I recall,

I searched it all,

It was an emotional year,

I cut out the bad with my sensory gear,

I lost someone dear,

But gained phenomenal souls, near and clear,

These are just things,

Things I'll store,

Pack them away in my New Year's Bag.

I'll stop searching for every single answer,

They simply don't exist, or they're not for my planner,

One of my ear is deaf,

And a murmur slips from my breath:

Oh, God chose you to be with me this year,

And now I choose you for my future, my darling,

Hey, we've broken prejudice and that wall!

Come back boy with the red ribbon's call,

Rest on the trail of stars,

I'll follow your voice,

Or at least you can hold my heart,

A compass of choice,

I'm often called sappy,

But I'm just overly emotional, lost but I guess also happy.

I raced against time,

Lost my breath, to ensure I'd look back on the climb,

My friends and I turned 366 days into eternity,

Spent our sanity,

But claimed our own clarity,

Oh, Jesus!

How many songs did we forget to hear?

I had another birthday with my parents near,

Gratitude filled me, bringing peace sincere,

If a mic were in my hand,

I'd puff my chest like an antihero and stand,

"Man, I was bold!"

Because that's how you hold,

Hold on to love and learn to be whole.

Confetti will build something unbreakable tonight,

Each one wears a color, yet craves their own light,

There's always someone who's drunk and high,

Always a heart that sinks, asking why,

Somewhere there's a seat left empty,

For someone who's gone, leaving someone lonely,

Anyway, just play "New Year's Day" by Taylor Swift,

Silence settles, and my mind feels unwary,

Can you recall the anticipation?

And suddenly, they count: 1, 2, 3...

Happy New Year!

I want you with me when we go to 25,

I want you with me when we go to 25,

Do you want me too?

I don't want a restart,

To restart means something must end,

And I don't want to lose what's been, my dear friend,

I feel like I haven't felt enough, but I'm all in,

All in for this idea of new paths to begin.

Obstacles die, obstacles rise,

Something changes, it makes me cry,

I'm not that good at letting go.

I failed,

I despaired,

I sought and repaired.

It was an emotional year,

I cut out the bad with my sensory gear,

I lost someone dear,

But gained phenomenal souls, near and clear,

These are just things,

Things I'll store,

Pack them away in my New Year's Bag.

I'm like a sleepthinker,

Nearly losing this idea, the notion,

We all feel this way during such commotion,

I turn to my bag of tricks,

The about " The Almost Perfection" manual fix,

There's no map to guide,

You and I count losses with our fingers, wide-eyed,

Will punishment cross our bones?

Were we good at dodging the stones,

Didn't we?

Who's forgiving my sins as I sin again?

Is the future planning to gift me, then?

We kneel on corn, then rise to dance,

This year's legendary,

But they say everything is momentary,

Although memories are eternal, moments don't fade,

And 24 is etched in my soul, like a serenade.

This year, I had the crystals,

And new jokes only we could whistle,

How many times did we just shrug and say, "Whatever"?

No one really give a damn,

When I passed from 23 to 24,

I broke chains,

Fled fake love and embraced gains,

I am free,

We defied headlines, you can see,

I drank before 18,

Danced till my legs grew mean,

Some plan to marry,

But I just don't want life to tarry,

I won't leave this life and the months have carried.

I'll hold on to memories,

Because something must hold me steady.

I'll hold on to memories,

Because something must hold me steady.

I'll hold on to memories,

Because something must hold me steady.

I want you with me when we go to 25,

Do you want me too?

Yes, do you want me too?

I want you with me when we go to 25,

Do you want me too?

Yes, do you want me too?

I want you with me when we go to 25,

Do you want me too?

Yes, do you want me too?

And when I almost forget this year,

When the napkin falls,

I know I'll remember,

Because I'll always see,

See it through my New Year's bag of memories,

New Year's bag.

Hey, remember 24?

(This is my last poem in my collection of 15 poems "made in 2007" and also the last of the 3 extra tracks. I think there was no better way to end this collection than with a New Year's poem posting it at the turn of the year. 2024 was what I dare say was the best year of my life so far, I learned, I freed myself, I lived, I really lived, I suffered, but I smiled and had SO *MUCH* fun! I am grateful to everyone who contributed so that this year could be marked positively in my memory. 2023 was a hard and difficult year, but 2024 restored me. Thank you for everything everyone, have a happy new year, I love you all.)

Signed: Beatriz Ranzonni 🩵.

[familyvideostevie]

HAPPY ONE YEAR!!! For your celebration, what about a 🐚 Seashell Blurb for Steve Harrington with the line: "It's been a long year and all of our book's pages are dog-eared," from "Everywhere, Everything" by Noah Kahan!

hi!!! you've been here for so long, so thank you so much!!!! i love this song <3 great pick! here's you and steve reflecting on a year of knowing each other :) friends to lovers hehe <3

--

You're not sure he even realizes what day it is. Steve always has a lot on his mind and while he's kind and a good friend and takes care of people he isn't always great with details. Sure, he remembers birthdays and that Dustin hates tomatoes and Robin's favorite color, but why would he remember the day that you two met?

You're just friends. Still, after a year.

But you, for reasons you only dwell on late at night alone in your bedroom, know the date of when you first met -- when you spilled beer all over him at someone's summer party. You went home that night with butterflies that never went away.

"You're going to go cross-eyed if you think any harder," Steve says. You snap out of your thoughts to find him staring at you across the table. He'd called you tonight and asked if you were free to go to the diner. It's practically empty and you share a big order of fries and sip on shakes.

"Sorry," you say. He gently kicks you under the table and looks a little shy.

That's something you've learned in the last year: Steve Harrington can get shy. He gets nervous when he wants to say something serious and cracks his knuckles but doesn't find speaking to crowds scary. He gets annoyed easily but forgives even easier. He snores in the spring when he has allergies and sleeps hot in the winter even when it's freezing outside.

You've learned a lot about him, but he still manages to surprise you. Like right now -- you can tell he's nervous but you cannot imagine why.

"I hope I didn't drag you away from important plans tonight," he says. He looks at his hands, brow furrowed, which is unusual. When Steve talks to you he always looks at you head on.

"No," you say. "I didn't have anything to do, I told you so." You'd actually debated all day whether or not to call him and just hang out, even if he didn't know today was special.

"Shit," he mumbles. He runs a hand through this hair and the other down his face. He's really nervous.

"Are you okay?" you ask, concerned now. Did he bring you here to tell you...bad news?

Your concern seems to bring him out of his own worry. He takes a deep breath and looks at you, finally, steely determination in his eyes. "I'm going to do something and I'm scared it's going to fuck everything up," he starts. "So I need you to promise me that you'll hear me out and then...be nice after. Okay?"

No words come. You nod. What?

Steve grips his shake with both hands like he's trying not to reach for something. "We met a year ago today, did you know that?"

Your heart rises to your throat.

"I wasn't sure you'd remember, which is fine. I mean, it was a stupid party and you spilled beer all over me, but it was just another night, yeah? But since then you've just...you've taken over." You curl your hands into fists on your thighs. "You're my best friend. You know me so well and every time something happens and you're not there I want to tell you about it. I hear your voice in my head and when I see you it feels like...like a relief, if that makes sense?"

He looks frustrated that he can't articulate it the way he wants to but you're having a hard time not leaping over the table to hug him. "And sometimes over the last year I feel like...there are times that it's like..." He sighs. "It just feels like maybe you're feeling something more and I don't know if I'm reading it wrong because I'm feeling something more but..."

You close your eyes because the eye contact is getting too much, but you can't help the smile that creeps onto your lips. Steve must take it for a good sign because he keeps going, sounding more hopeful.

"What I'm trying to say is that I'm in love with you. I might have been since the day we met."

"A year ago," you say, opening your eyes. "I remember." You're not sure who reaches first but then you're holding hands on the table, fries pushed to the side. "I can't believe I thought you didn't know it was today but actually you're in love with me." Your voice sounds giddy to your own ears.

Steve smiles shyly, the tips of his ears turning red. "Well, yeah. 'Course I remember. Changed my life."

"I'm in love with you, too, Steve," you tell him. The shy smile turns wide, smug. It makes you brave. "You gonna kiss me, or make me wait another year?"

He almost knocks over your shakes in his rush to get to your side of the table.

join the celebration!

[gryfferin-gaybies]

Absence

"I'm here! I'm here!" Harry practically leaped out of the Floo into their living room.

"Shhh," his husband urged. "You'll wake Lily." Draco looked like he was dozing off to sleep himself, cozy on their sofa.

Harry frowned at his watch. "I missed her bedtime story?" It was futile to hope that he hadn't, being it over an hour past their three-year-old daughter's bedtime.

He quietly went into her bedroom to give her a kiss on the forehead before heading off to bed with his husband.

~~~

"I'm here! I'm here!" Harry called, running down the hallway to Draco. He was still dressed in his red robes.

Draco was pacing, biting his fingernails clearly lost in thought. He gave a nervous smile and pulled Harry in for a quick hug.

"What are you doing out here? Why aren't you in the room with her? Would they not allow you?"

"No, no, that's not it at all." Draco's tone was not as reassuring as his words. "Scorpius is healthy. He was born just a few minutes ago. I didn't want to meet him without you here with me."

Harry's heart sank. He'd missed the birth of his second child, his first son. And he'd delayed Draco's chance to hold him.

~~~

"I'm here! I'm here!" Harry announced. But Draco was already cleaning up the remnants of their daughter's eighth birthday party decorations.

"The kids went to the Burrow," Draco informed. "Mr and Mrs—Molly and Arthur were ecstatic when I said they could go. I was just happy to get to clean up in peace. They can deal with the sugar rush." He smiled to himself as he waved his wand to pull a banner down from the wall. "I'm sorry you missed the party, love."

Harry helped Draco clean up their sitting room. "Did she at least like her gift?"

"She loved it, Harry." Draco wrapped his arms around his husband from behind and pressed a kiss to his shoulder, pausing their tidying efforts. "All of her friends were here. There was cake and games. She barely even noticed I was here." It didn't make him feel much better.

~~~

"I'm here! I'm here!" Harry whispered as he slid into a chair next to Ron at Draco's charity banquet.

Draco's eyes landed on him from the podium at the front of the room where he was giving his speech. He smiled and it warmed Harry's heart. He wished he had arrived before the final line of Draco's speech.

~~~

"I'm here! I'm here!" Harry was running toward his family in the train station, still in his Auror robes.

Lily ran into his arms for a big hug. "Dad!"

"You're going to do great, Lily," Harry whispered into her ear and planted a kiss on her forehead.

Draco—with their youngest child Albus on his hip—checked his watch. "Alright, you don't want to miss the train. You're nearing the last boarding call."

With one last nervous glance back at her dads and baby brothers, Lily ran at the wall to platform 9 3/4. Harry's heart ached at knowing he missed their last day to be together as a family, a chance they likely wouldn't get again until Christmas break.

~~~

Over the years Harry continued coming in late and missing important life events. His children's bedtimes. The birth of his second born. Birthday parties. Draco's work events. Nearly every time his children left for Hogwarts. Holidays, family dinners, date nights, the kids' graduations.

Eventually Draco started to feel like he was doing it all alone. He knew that Harry wasn't late or absent on purpose. His job as head Auror was just very demanding. And although Harry didn't need the job, the job needed Harry. No one could do his job quite like he could because no one was quite as powerful.

And while Draco was happy that Harry found his calling, something that he felt gave him purpose, Draco couldn't help but wish it wasn't so dangerous and had more consistent hours.

He hadn't been promoted to head Auror until a week after their surrogate gave birth to Lily. And as grateful as Draco was to have his family, he couldn't say that he'd have been so willing to start it had he known how frequently he would be left to raise their children on his own. The thought alone made him feel awful.

Now standing in his suit, looking at their daughter in her gorgeous wedding gown, Draco fidgeted with his watch. The ceremony was about to begin and Harry wasn't there to help walk his own daughter down the aisle. This was another important moment Draco would go alone. Another moment Lily would have her Papa but not her Dad.

The music began and the wedding party made their way down the aisle. Soon it was time for the bride.

"You look beautiful, dear," Draco said to his clearly nervous daughter. "He's a lucky man and I know you two will be very happy together. I love you so much."

With tears in her eyes, Lily smiled. "Thank you, Papa." She paused to look back at the chapel doors with a frown.

"I'm sorry, honey. You know he wants to be here. Don't frown on your special day." Draco told her what he needed to hear as well.

She nodded and then linked arms with Draco, turning to face the doors the rest of her wedding party had entered, behind which she knew stood her soon-to-be husband at the alter and all of her friends and family gathered in rows to celebrate their love with them. He gave her one last kiss on the cheek before the doors swung open wide.

"Wait!" They took a single step before stopping to turn around to see Harry. "I'm here."

Draco beamed as Harry stepped into place on Lily's other side.

"Dad! I'm so glad you made it!" Lily wrapped her arms around his neck to hug him.

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he whispered with a smile, attempting to minimize the disruption by making sure the audience couldn't hear their conversation. He locked eyes with Draco over her shoulder. "I'm sorry I'm late. It won't happen again. Not anymore."

Draco kept his voice equally as soft. "Harry, don't make a promise you can't—"

"I quit my job," Harry interrupted. Lily let go of him to give him a shocked look, but the music started again before he could elaborate. "Shall we?"

After the ceremony, Draco was able to pull Harry aside for a private conversation. They were in the empty men's room.

"You quit your job? Why? You love that job?" Draco said the moment they were alone. They could hear the party on the other side of the door.

Harry sighed and leaned back against the sink. "I did. I do. But when I realized it was going to cause me to miss my only daughter's wedding, I couldn't keep it up. I tried to say I needed to leave but they told me I couldn't. Told me there was a case that needed me specifically. I just. . ." He stared directly in Draco's eyes with vulnerability he didn't show often. "I couldn't keep letting my family down, letting you down."

Draco closed the gap between them and put his hand on Harry's cheek. "Oh, Harry," he breathed.

Harry turned his head and kissed Draco's palm. "I'm sorry I didn't do it sooner. I'm sorry I've missed so much, Draco."

Draco kissed him on the mouth, smiling against his husband's lips. "Oh, Harry, I'm just so happy."

Harry kissed him again. "We should probably return to the party before I miss even more."

Draco hummed. "Maybe we kiss just a little more first."

[ashesandhackles]

Beyond the Veil (masterpost)

Co-written with @thedreamermusing

Sirius Black/Severus Snape. 97k.

A canon-divergent rewrite of Half Blood Prince and Deathly Hallows that follows the relationship between Sirius Black and Severus Snape. Think of it as mine and Dreamer's character study with romance.

Our list of chapters (and tiny previews where you can see we have experimented with multiple POVs) under the cut! Also a Snape and Lily prequel written by @thedreamermusing here: January 30th, 1975 (Happy Birthday Lily)

Chapter 1 - Prologue

Time was a standstill in these long hallways and empty rooms, full of memories that ticked under his skin like a pulse under a livid bruise.

Chapter 2 - changing perceptions

He was tempted to laugh, laugh like a maniac, at the absurdity, the injustice, out of grief--let out all his curled up emotions in a big hearty laugh. But then again, that hadn't worked out so well for him 15 years ago.

Chapter 3 - 12 Grimmauld Place meets Spinner's End

What Pettigrew lacked in skill; he made up for in malice.  This seemingly pusillanimous creature hid within him a rusty sword whose efficiency lay not in the sharpness of the blade, but in the unnoticed poison of the rust.

Chapter 4- Enemy of my Enemy

"I brought him here because I finally see the advantages of being brawny rather than brainy," Snape smirked.

Chapter 5 - The Prince and Padfoot

"You disgust me.” rang over and over in his head like a church bell, a judgement in a confessional, a whisper that haunted his ears when he dreamed and lay awake, sometimes unable to tell the difference.

Chapter 6 - Monsters and Old School Friends

His wildness hung over him like an aura of a predator. Long-limbed, lax, but there was danger bubbling within him, an inexplicable ferocity that filled the air around him. How could anyone else not see that monster?

Chapter 7 - Circular Path

When Severus saw it for the first time, he was amazed. It was an answer to a question he had all his life, a representation of what could be built if he just reached out for the future and grabbed it with greedy hands. Now, as Narcissa opened the door with a stone face belied by the terror in her eyes, he was able to see the Manor for what it really was--a mouldering dump of pureblood affectations that concealed its decay as well as Grimmauld Place accentuated it.

Chapter 8 - Tale of Two Black Stars

Severus had known all along how to see who held the room. It was ingrained in him since he was a child. In Spinner's End, it was his father. A looming presence of overbearing violence that his mother, his magical mother, cowered against. He noticed it again in the playground - where Lily flew in air, in a burst of extraordinarily controlled magic. 

Chapter 9 - The Wounds of Men

He did not know where their sudden leap of faith for the ferret came from ( “C’mon mate, I know Malfoy is a git but Death Eater is serious business!” ), but it made him feel stupid and ridiculous--it was almost as if he was back at Aunt Petunia’s, listening to her sweet talk the neighbours about Harry’s delinquency. ( “He told you he sleeps under a cupboard? A nasty, nasty lie! But the poor dear has got no one else; his parents didn’t leave us any money as well. It’s been such a strain on our finances…” 

Chapter 10 - By The Light of The Full Moon

The first week at Azkaban was truly horrendous. Peter valued his mind - it was his best weapon and it helped him fade into the background. Losing the ability to think clearly, unable to tell dreams and memories apart; it was a sensation that terrified him. It felt like getting sucked into the quicksand of his resentment and anger and guilt that he kept at bay. He didn’t want to feel it. What use were those emotions, if they failed to help him survive?

Chapter 11 - Face Death in Hope

Death, Pain - all unavoidable things. Things he had to play with - in hope that one day, he would be able to expiate what he was carrying.  He would not live to see it, he was sure. But he could hope. The only relief he had is that he would not die by his - Gellert’s- hand. “I am the only one who should be allowed to kill you,” he had said, a declaration, a threat - he wasn’t sure. “It is me that keeps you alive.”

Chapter 12 - Who Are You?

He was a son of the House of Malfoy, a noble house, one of the sacred 28, whose line went back generations. Their legacy was set in stone, the purity of their blood unquestioned. It infuriated him that nobody recognised that--that Potter, with his filthy mixed blood and mudblood mother--didn’t recognise that. And now, it had become so much worse. His father was a laughingstock. His mother looked pale and frightened all the time. It was up to him to bring things back to normal.

Chapter 13 - The Last Enemy (Part 1)

There were so many things that he thought were forgotten, so many memories whose life and colour had been drained away by grief and Azkaban. But standing here in the square, it was clear that they had always been there. He had felt something similar after walking into the doors of Grimmauld Place for the first time, but the only memories rising to surface there were of misery long-replaced. Here, every bit of youthful joy and love rose and flickered through his mind like stained-glass colours through snow, and every unremarkable step they had ever made on the square seemed precious in a fragile kind of way. 

Chapter 14 - Shedding the Maker's Skin

“Lyall Lupin,” Fenrir said, smiling at the infinitesimal jerk Remus’ body gave. “I knew you came from money, boy. You’re his son, aren’t you?”

Remus went cold. 

“Soulless, evil and deserving of nothing but death,” Fenrir quoted. “That is what he believes.”

A rage Remus had never felt before was travelling up his spine, fossilising hatred into the marrow of his bones.

Chapter 15 - Ozymandias

Once upon a time, Voldemort had looked at Snape and seen a mirror, a broken mirror of course, because Severus did not have even a shadow of his charisma, charm, looks, or skill. But even so, when Severus had come to him, an angry, profoundly gifted young half-blood brewing with hatred over his Muggle heritage, he had been so hopeful at his promise. They had both seemed to view the world in the same way; they both understood that magic was where power lay. Magic had made Voldemort immortal and then mortal again. They both respected it in a way nobody else did, and Voldemort had thought he found someone who could equal Bellatrix’s esteem. 

But Severus’s weakness had been disgustingly banal. To think that it was lust of all things to claim him, and lust for a plain Mudblood at that. And now, it was the same, only for Lucius’s dullard of a wife.

Chapter 16 - In Noctem (Carry My Soul)

The idea of it makes me feel ill. He is no longer whole; his soul is distorted. He is no better than those vile creatures that guard Azkaban. He intended to murder Kreacher, who has been serving our family for generations. Our family, whose blood is pure and unbroken, has been used to destroy the soul of a magical being. It has become clear to me now. This monster will ruin us all more than any mudblood ever will. 

Chapter 17 - Wings to the Kingdom

Until the time Death claims me, let the moth sing to your bones: I loved you since I saw you. I loved you when I hated you. I loved you when you betrayed us. I loved you when you destroyed me. 

Yours, Gellert.

Chapter 18 - The Last Enemy (Part 2)

The window brought in a draft of salt as Remus cut up chicken for the Order lunch.  Tonks was just beside him, mashing the potatoes with zeal, her arm brushing up against his own on occasion. He felt embarrassed, it was ridiculous the degree to which any proximity to her affected him. It was the isolation of the cottage, he thought, that seemed to keep them away from the dark cloud hovering above them.  It was the rhythm of the sea, a comforting lullaby of a different world, a different life.

Chapter 19 - A Lament in the Ashes

Where is my golden palace? Where is my ivory bed? Where is the joy of my morning hour? Where the Sons of Eternity are singing, Draco thumbed through the book from the shelves in the bedroom. Years ago, he would have scoffed at the idea of perusing a book of poetry written by a Muggle.

Chapter 20 - Epilogue

“It must be nice,” he said. “To start again every time you die. You can make as many mistakes as you want and be reborn from them.” 

Fawkes trilled. The corner of Serverus’s mouth lifted. 

[hogarthwrites]

one thing leads to another chapter 5

pairing: samuel drake/femme!reader (m/f)

genre: romance, smut, slow burn

words: 1147

summary:

Sam deals with his feelings for you.

chapters: 1 2 3 4

Sam couldn’t get you out of his mind. He thought about you the moment he woke up, and he always loved being around you. He couldn’t figure out if the feelings started the moment you smiled at him at the bar or when you introduced yourself to him at the office.

He looked at you from across the room, wondering what you were about to tell him before Nathan and Elena rang the doorbell. Just like a flood, guests started pouring in and he couldn’t get another moment alone with you. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips as he watched you laugh. His gaze lingered on your lips. Oh, how he wanted to kiss them and to touch the hair that curled at the nape of your neck. He couldn’t help but let his gaze roam to your chest, thinking about that moment at the bar.

No, he scolded himself as he turned his attention to the diminishing snacks on the table. I gotta control myself. Still, he took another look at you, his heart leaping as you caught his eyes.

You smiled at Sam, raising your bottle of beer at him. 

Happy birthday, you mouthed.

Thanks, he mouthed back, giving you a small smile and nodding.

A part of you was conflicted that you didn’t get to tell him how you felt, but you figured it was probably for the best. After all, didn’t you just see him with a very pregnant woman the other day?

She’s not here, though, you thought to yourself. Maybe they’re not together. Maybe it’s a secret.

Pregnant woman aside, he was your boss. Still, it didn’t stop you from fantasising about kissing him, to have his strong arms hold you. You wondered how it would feel to be enveloped in his embrace, to have his scent fill you as he made you his.

“You okay?” Elena snapped her fingers in front of Sam’s face.

“Huh?” Sam blinked as he turned to his sister in law. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“I’ve been trying to ask you where Nate is,” she turned to your direction. “What are you looking at?”

“Nothing,” Sam walked towards the coffee table and picked up a bowl of chips. “You want one?”

Elena shook her head. “Have you seen Nate? My legs are killing me.”

He glanced down at her swollen belly, just like Crystal’s. “Grab a seat. I think he went to the bathroom.”

It wasn’t a lie. At that very moment, Nathan Drake was in the upstairs bathroom battling a bad burrito he had eaten earlier that day.

Sam helped her sit down on the sofa, sitting next to her as he ate a few chips.

“How far along are you again?” He asked.

“Six months,” she instinctively put a hand on her stomach. 

“Excited?”

Elena nodded. “You think you’d ever want to settle down someday, Samuel Drake?”

Sam shrugged and glanced at you again. Maybe.

“Who is that?” Elena followed his gaze and smiled. “Another secret girlfriend?”

“Another?” He raised an eyebrow. “And no. She’s our new researcher.”

“Oh,” she nodded and looked the other way. “You like her.”

“I don’t.”

“I see the way you look at her.”

Sam sighed. “Is it obvious?”

Elena nodded again. 

“You think she knows?”

This time, she shrugged. “You should ask her out.”

“I can’t. I’m technically her boss.”

“That never stopped you before,” she let out a laugh. “Remember Linda?”

“Doesn’t count. She was an associate.”

“If you say so.”

“Anyway, I may have made a bet with a friend that if I can keep it in my pants, she’ll owe me $500.”

“Wow,” this time it was Elena who raised an eyebrow at him. “Good luck with that.”

“You have no faith in me.”

“Nope,” she laughed.

It was then Nate tapped Elena’s shoulder.

“Are you okay?” She worriedly turned to him.

Nate nodded. 

“What happened?” Sam asked.

“Burrito,” Nate replied. “What have you guys been talking about?”

“Sam’s unobtainable love interest,” Elena took his hand as he sat next to her on the other side of the sofa.

“Another one?” 

“What do you mean ‘another one’?” Sam pouted. “Are you sure you’re okay, little brother?”

Nate nodded, but at that moment, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach. “Crap.”

“I think we’re going to retire for the night,” Elena stood up with help from both brothers. “Thanks for letting us use the guest room.”

“Of course,” Sam nodded. “I’ve got some Gatorade in the fridge if you need any, Nathan.”

“Thanks,” Nate muttered and gave Sam a hug. “Happy birthday, Sam. See you in the morning.”

“Hope you survive.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

Sam looked for you again, and found you alone in the kitchen with a glass of water.

“Hi,” you smiled up at him.

“Hi,” he replied as he walked towards you.

There was a silence between the two of you, the chatter from the dying party in the living room and the music filling the room. You tapped the sides of the glass you were holding, thinking of what to say.

“Thanks again for the present, by the way,” Sam pulled out the joke book from his back pocket. “You’re sweet.”

“I’m glad you liked it,” you nodded. 

“You wanted to tell me something earlier?”

“Oh,” you placed the glass on the counter. “It’s nothing too important, just…”

You turned to look at Sam, feeling a bit breathless as you looked into his eyes. 

“Just…” you felt him move closer.

“Just?” Sam’s voice was soft.

“Just…” You looked at his lips, wanting to kiss him badly at that moment. “I just wanted to say thanks for keeping me company after hours.”

“You’re welcome,” he smiled. “I love talking to you.”

You felt your cheeks heat up. Suddenly you were a little too close to him, you could almost feel the heat radiating off his body, and you wanted him.

Without thinking, you had inched closer until your lips were on Sam’s, every alarm in your head ringing.

Oh god, what am I doing?

It was then you felt his arms wrap around your waist as he pulled you in closer and returned your kiss. You tasted the beer and the nicotine on his lips, your hand on his neck as he pressed you against the fridge. His lips moved down to your neck.

All your fantasies about Sam were coming true, and you gave a soft moan at the thought of him touching you more.

But then, you thought about the pregnant lady and you thought about your job.

“Sam,” you pulled away slightly.

“What?” He asked breathlessly.

“We can’t…”

He placed his forehead on yours, panting.

You pulled away, wiping your mouth. “We can’t… I’m sorry.”

Sam just stood there, speechless, as you backed away.

“Wait,” he said quietly.

“I have to go,” you said. “I’m sorry. Happy birthday.”

[distort1xn]

this is my morse code, christopher nolan’s interstellar inspired tattoo. it means ‘S.T.A.Y.’, like the books in murph’s room – my version of the semi-colon.

i almost didn’t see the end of 2017. untreated neurodivergence and zero emotional support sends your mind crazy places. for some reason, though, interstellar, that i’d seen only once in cinema in 2014, kept haunting the fringes of my thoughts. so, when i was discharged from the ICU, i downloaded it again. i’ve rewatched it about a billion times since.

the movie reminded me that, although my family may not know exactly how to love me or always be interested in learning, i can choose a family for myself who would go to the ends of the universe to see me happy and thriving.

to commemorate surviving the 3-year anniversary of the darkest day of my mental health, i got my little ink on leap day of 2020. so, although it’s technically been 4 years since, today would be its first actual birthday.

may my little reminiscence be a reminder to everyone who reads this that if it keeps you alive, it’s never a waste. there are people who care – who will love and support you in all the ways you need and even some ways you didn’t know you did – and if you haven’t met them yet, maybe it’s worth sticking around another day, just in case.

you have just as much of a right to take up space as anyone else. you have new music and shows and movies and books to look forward to. you have experiences to experience and passions to discover. the world is SO BIG and we have so much capacity for love and goodness and even pettiness and spite. don’t die to teach someone else a lesson – live to learn it yourself and show them they have no hold over you. people are just people and nothing is ever as dire as it seems.

i was 21 when i decided life wasn’t worth it. i’m 28 now and happier than ever. i didn’t take up meditation or turn to religion. i helped myself out of the hole. i saw doctors, got medicated and let myself laugh at what used to make me cry. i did that. me. if i can, you can. we’re all people made of the same stuff. if it’s the world getting you down and resources are unavailable, DM me. we’ll make a plan. we’ll be friends.

we’ll stay, together. ♥︎

[hazelthevixen]

Hazel's Leap Year Post - Warnings, news, updates, and more!

Happy leap year! I'm not sure how else to celebrate except with my first journal post of 2024 (and first journal in a while), but who knows, maybe I'll think of somethin' ^-^ So how's 2024 so far? For me it's been alright UwU However, I am excited, I feel that 2024 could hold alot of potential for being a good year! >:3 Most days seem to be rather chill at the moment, I have enjoyed a few good outings tho :3 But I'm excited because I'm finally seeing to my big dream of mine! And that's travelling the world! ^w^ I will be going abroad to somewhere nice and hot in november, but I'm also hoping to make more friends locally aswell as seeing if any of my local pals would like to go on holidays with me before november aswell, cos it is quite a long way till november :o I'm hoping I'll get to travel alot this year, my new year's resolution is to travel and make friends after all ^w^ So as you may already know, I'm a very shy person, especially in the offline world. I'm not really confident enough to make the first move, though since I'm working on making more friends, especially offline friends, I'll have to see if I can try and come out my shell more.. ^-^; But I'll get there! I've made friends before and I can make friends again. Wish me luck! :3 Oki so..updates! First of all, I would like to say happy new year and happy chinese new year :3 I enjoyed some food and takeaways aswell as watching the cartoon movie on Disney's Mulan UwU It was great! Mushu is a funny character hehe X3 He is the dragon, which is this year's chinese zodiac. Last year's zodiac is the rabbit! and I just so happen to be the year of the rabbit ^w^ So last year I celebrated by making a new bunny oc. She is part scorpion and part lionhead rabbit, I made her on my birthday to celebrate that aswell as my zodiacs. I am a scorpio aswell as a rabbit, so it only makes sense that my bunny oc is part scorpion! I don't know what type of scorpion but I do know for sure she is a lionhead rabbit :3 I call her Scorpio Bunny, she's not really a fursona but she's still very cute ^w^ I'll post her at some point if I haven't posted her already. But if I have then you should be able to find her in my gallery! :3 I've also been branching out alot to other sites this year, to y'know.. get my works out there and try and get more noticed UwU I've been branching out to reddit, unvale, bluesky, and no mcroll this time, but seeing as it looks like the coast is clear, I returned to deviantart as for now. don't miss the community, but I do kinda miss some of the site's old features.. ÚwÙ No I'm not giving out links here, that's how the stalkers find me. If you want to follow me on those places, you'll have to message me privately. U.U And I wouldn't recommend searching for my accounts either, I somehow managed to get popular enough to end up with imposter accounts, so if you think an account could be me, ask the security questions I have provided on my weasyl and toyhouse (I plan to make security questions available on other places too). Ask several, and if they answer incorrectly or refuse to answer them, then you'll know it's an imposter and not me. The imposter accounts were created by jealous haters who have no life, as their pathetic attempt to frame me and spread more of their crappy fake rumours. But at least every smart person knows not to fall for those lies, only a stupid fool would believe such lies about me.. UwU Anyways, the imposters post disturbing content so that's also part of why I wouldn't recommend searching up my name, especially if you're a bit on the innocent and/or sensitive side. Stay safe! However, I might give out my new subscribestar just so it's easier to access, I might migrate there instead of using patreon because I hear patreon is giving out bans to artists who make content of higher ratings, so I might have to make big changes to my patreon and only make content for all ages, but I'll sort that out later, I'll be needing to make some big improvements to my tiers anyway.. ^-^; My subscribestar is still awaiting for approval, heck even I'm waiting too. I don't know how long approvals are suppose to take as it's been several months now. Until then, please feel free to check out my new subscribestar! https://www.subscribestar.com/hazel?redirect_notice=true I think you can subscribe once it's been approved, but I'm still new here and learning my way around so who knows :o Okay! so plans..what do I plan on doing? well.. in the online world, I am not only hard at work with my comic and artwork, but I have a little surprise that might come later after my comic ^-^ I wont say what because stalkers might try to copy me, but it'll definitely be something fun that you can try out if you like my characters ^w^ Subscribers and patrons will be the first to see new comic and animated episodes when they are out, as it might be a while until the series releases to the whole public, but subscribers will also be first to try out a fun feature where they can interact with my ocs ^w^ The reasons why I'm releasing it later when the comic is out is because you may not know the characters very well before you see stories and media of them, while when you actually go and see them, you develop a fondness to your favourite characters. So that's why I'm releasing the other feature later so people can interact with their favourite characters ^w^ I may however release another feature sometime soon before or during the comic, my good friend Chris aka Employee205664 suggested an idea of another way you can interact with my original characters so shoutouts to Chris aka Civil Defence Fox he's a good pal :3 maybe the other feature will be a bit of a surprise too ^w^ but I think Chris probably knows what it is X3 sshh it's a surprise lol! XD I'll tell you what it is when it's out ;3 but as for now, subscribers gain early access to cool stuff like this =D so if you're a huge fan then I hope you'll support me enough to become a subscriber ^w^ I've had a rough past so the money will go towards helping me aim for a good future to make up for past abuse. Keep in mind that I do work slowly, so as you may of noticed, I even be a while on content like artwork, but I do get things done and I do put alot of love, thought, and effort into the things I make, so it'll all be worth it UwU I've been making The Waffle Stars series since forever so I hope it'll gain alot of love when it's out ^-^ As for offline goals! I've been trying to tidy up all of my house so we can finally get some decorating done, put shelves up, and put up all my wall decorations that's hogging my drawers. I'm also seeing about being allowed a small dog, because of my invisible disabilities, I am eligible for a service dog. another shoutout to my good friend Diamond Faith for the helpful suggestion :3 But before we can be allowed a service dog, we have some obstacles to face First of all, my house does not allow me keeping a dog because the housing people said so. They don't like us keeping dogs and apparently cats aswell I've heard, so I was lucky to be allowed my guinea pigs, since animals kept in cages and tanks are less likely to cause damage to the house, and rodents like guinea pigs need to be constantly chewing on things (it's to keep their teeth healthy) so that's why I give them wood, cardboard, and hay for that reason. So we're planning on leaving the housing people that's not letting us have a dog Secondly, I'm currently proving that yes, I look after my guinea pigs well, I'm probably better at that than looking after myself, but I can still take good care of my house and self too, so I'm proving I can do all that to prove I can look after a dog aswell, because I've lived with dogs ever since when I was wee, so I have at least a bit of knowledge and experience with both dogs and guinea pigs, due to them being animals I've owned before And as I've mentioned before, we're tryna see about travelling more because travelling makes me really happy, it brings me alot of joy. So I'm aiming for a good future to have many things that could bring me joy and happiness, that's the key to having a good future, to work towards your hopes, dreams, and things future you will be able to thank you for ^-^ That aswell as always looking for things to keep you happy and entertained :3 I want to be a pampered princess! XD I'm also gonna try and make lots of local friends, I mean I have alot of online friends, I'd like to make just as many local friends because sadly I've lost touch with alot of my old school friends as I grew older and I would like to reunite with some aswell as making new ones too. Thing is, I'm very shy. So I need to try and practice coming out of my shell more, I think I need to step out my comfort zone sometimes and meet new people <:3 I'm currently hard at work on my art and trying to get some of them finished soon, but I still enjoy making my content, I make everything all for funsies :3 I've also improved my streams lots! now you can become a cute chibi fox when you subscribe to my livestreams ^w^ You get to customise the fox you play as, aswell as taking part in minigames to earn prizes! =D I also started using my mic on streams and made a pngtuber to go along with it, so join the fluffy gang today by becoming a follower on my livestreams! ^-^ https://www.twitch.tv/hazelthevixen I've got alot of offline goals aswell as online ones, they may not be new year resolutions, but they're still goals I'd like to work towards ^-^ Wish me luck! :3 And if you've read it all and made it this far, I jus wanna say..congrats! =D Have a lucky clover ^w^ *she gives you a 4 leaf clover to bring you good luck to all her friends and fans* 🍀 Thank you for checking out my post! :3 *the cute fox is wagging her floofy tail* Take care you guys ^-^

Please be nice when commenting! I refuse to be criticised so please accept that. If you're gonna be mean, don't say anything at all. Thankies for checking out my post! Meep meep! ヽ(◕ヮ◕)ﾉ I'm on other places too! ^-^

Posted using PostyBirb

[losingmymindrn]

Idk how to do this ive never did an ask before but could you yap abt ur hg ocs (ik i said that terrible but *😿*)

(Ur good pooks don't worry u said it well)

So my main oc's name is Prada Nymph and she's from district 3! She has an older brother named Richard, but everyone calls him Richie. Their parents died during a factory accident when Prada was only 4 years old, Richie at 6. After at, Richie told Prada just to "keep smiling, everything will be okay soon." And she took that a tad to literally. Prada is never seen withoutna smile, even when whe gets bullied for it. They went to a community home until Richie picked up a small job at 8 years old for district 3's quarter quell victor, Belle. Belle eventually adopts them, because they somehow wormed their way into her cold heart and stuck there. Prada is 14 years old when she gets reaped for the 39th games, along side with a boy named Michael. Prada's birthday lands on the exact day of the games, so Richie gives her a kazoo for her early birthday present. It is here where in the first time in years, she breaks her smile and cries. Her and Michael become friends, because Prada's bubbly, somewhat insane personality is hard to ignore, even with someone who is as nervous as Michael.

When her games start, the announcer says, "Oh and, Happy birthday Prada." Her games take place in an abandoned construction site, filled with machinery, old warehouses and other various things you'd find at a construction site. She manages to grab a knife at the cornucopia, when the girl from 4 tackles her into a ditch filled with trash and such. This is where she gets a jagged scar across the right side of her face. She kills the girl by tricking her into jumping at her, just for her to step aside and the girl gets shredded by the wood chipper. "Well, what a lovely birthday I'm having!" She exclaimed to the sky. Prada struggles out of the ravine, seeing how she was pretty bruised and battered, when Michael helps her up. He leads her to his and the girl from district 6, Mary's, hide away. Mary is the fiercest one out of the 3, and is great with a sword. Their alliance lasts days, seeing how the other tributes were hunting each other, when district 2 comes along. During these few days, Mary, somehow, fell for Prada and her clinically insane personality. She sacrifices herself to save them, not without leaving a kiss to Prada's lips first. The following night, Prada breaks her smile again. Over the course of the next few days, Prada and Michael stay at an abandoned warehouse, when Prada gets the idea to start up the wrecking ball crane up. Coming from district 3, they knew how to work machines. They get super close to finishing, but they still need a few parts. They get a sponsor, and Prada heads outside to grab it. In the mean while, district 2 again sneaks up on Michael, gutting him, slitting his throat and hanging him. Prada comes back in, stopping her made up song.

Prada is now hyper aware of everything, which means she hears d2's boy step out of hiding and attempt to throw his spear at her. She sidesteps and grabs the spear, taking a running, leaping start at the boy and reaptingly impaling his stomach. In an act of anger, she tears off his arm with the spear, just in time to start for d2's girl, who gets impaled so many times you couldn't even recognize her, all the while yelling, "did you do this? Was this you? Which one of you killed him? Which one!? Which one of you killed Mary!?". She falls over laughing maniacally. Prada promises to Micheal's dead body, and to Mary, that she'll win.

In the finale, she leads d1's tributes and d4's boy to where the wrecking ball is. She splatters their gutts and blood to the walls of the warehouse. She's crowned victor qt 15 years old, laughing and saying "I did it! Michael, Mary I did it! Richie! I'm coming home! Belle! I-I did it!" Until she loses her voice and the hovercraft comes to pick her up.

(I would keep going but then I'd run out of room eventually and we'd be here all day.)

[bekalawson]

CANDY CORN

October 3, 2023 - 31 days of prompts! 🎃

You sit brooding in your room, thinking about how your single favorite day of the entire year is currently reaching its close. No, not even your own birthday has the ability to make your heart dance and sing. To make every pore in your body rejoice in the purest of happiness. Halloween is almost over. If only this day could last forever…

You leap from your desk, and your cape goes fwap at the speed of it. You've got it! It took you more than eight months to decide on what to be. Your favorite animated character? Video game characters? In the end, you chose something of your own mental creation. This year, you’ve dressed up as a Salamander Wizard.

You know exactly what to do. Your friends told countless stories about it. You dump all your trick-or-treat baskets over, every pillowcase full of candy, and sift through them like a goblin, collecting all the wretched candy corn you once thought was useless. Just an hour ago, you had cursed every door that had the nerve to place these things in your bag. But now, you fill your pillowcase with the infamously foul treats, kick your door open, and head out.

The night wind causes withered leaves to spin and sway around you. Stragglers prance by and run this way or that, completely ignoring you. This is one of the best parts of the night: rushing home to begin the trading ritual, where you can trick your little siblings into taking a handful of small treats for one or two of the king-sized snacks, or convince them that they just have to take your candy corn and give up their Reese's cups. If not, you can always just steal them later anyway. And what could they really do? Your size outranks their quickness, most of the time.

You pause, face-to-face with the wall of forest. From here, you look above the trees, and can only just make out the mountain on the other side.

There is a great beast who lives in the mountains, who could change everything. You take a breath, secure your wizard hat on your head, and venture forth through the woods.

Soon, you find yourself standing at the gaping mouth of the cave. Foreboding and grand, its darkness beckons your descent. Mindlessly, you answer the call.

Disorienting hisses bounce off the cave walls. Fog surrounds you, further veiling your eyes and disconnecting you from your sense of direction.

This is it. What your friends were telling you about. It's the Twisted Mercenary Dragon of the Eastern Mountains who Could at Times be Altruistic if you Bring Him Gifts. 

And here you are, pillowcase full of the very gift to appease the dragon's altruistic nature. As you approach the beast, the air becomes surprisingly sweet. His silhouette plays on the surface of the descending fog. He slithers out through the mist, and his shape appears before you.

You’re struck by the lack of a great dragon. What sits before you, instead, is a small, fuzzy creature. He steps out ahead of a giant mound of candy corn.

“Ahhh, a child. What have you for me? Trust, though, that should your offering be not to my liking, you will be handled. Swiftly.”

His slender form. His long, arched spine. His tall ears and wispy, fluffy hair…?

He’s… a cat.

[thedarkersideofus]

Chapter 28

My golden year! Turned 28 on the 28th. As of now, I’m writing this on May 10th. I wanted to write out how I feel about my golden year so far. I can safely say that I’m in a good place in my life right now. The past 2-3 years was a struggle. I had no direction in life when I was 26 and I was quite harsh on myself. I just sat in front of my computer and did everything but help myself. When I was 27, I had some direction but nothing tangible to show for. I went back to community college for social work but I didn’t have a job until I got my internship at the end of 2022. When 2023 started and my birthday came around, I decided to do my best to make this my comeback year. I tried to set 3 goals in different categories: Career: Get a job Social: Meet new people and hang out with others Health: Work out consistently

I am happy to say I had succeeded in all fronts! I got my first full time job working with the elderly population and I start in a few weeks. South Bay Synergy started up in February and I was able to reconnect with old friends and make new ones. Lastly I was able to work out consistently for a few months and finished a program cycle.

As of writing (6/4), I started my job a few weeks ago and it’s kind of a mess. The role is so new that no one has a good idea of what I’m suppose to be doing or learning. I’m doing my best to learn as much as I can. In exciting and poor timing news, I got into my first choice graduate program on the first day of work! After a few days of not doing anything at work, I decided to take the leap and accept the offer to SJSU’s MSW program. I’m excited to see where my future takes me right now.

[clarklovescarole]

February 1939: Divorce-Wedding Limbo

February 1, 1939 – Daily News

Carole? Gable’s Mrs. Is Doubtful

Clark Gable’s chances of matrimonial happiness, if he marries Carole Lombard, were liberally springled with cold water by his current wife, Mrs. Maria Gable, in an interview here today.

Mrs. Gable is in Las Vegas establishing a residence preparatory to obtaining a divorce from her handsome film actor husband, eleven years her junior, whom she married in 1931. She will receive the decree in about a month. Meanwhile, friends of Gable and Miss Lombard in Hollywood are saying they plan to marry as soon as Clark’s present bonds are severed.

“Clark knew he could have a divorce any time, since we ironed out our little differences some time ago,” Mrs. Gable said, and added, “But he never seemed to want one. 

“I think a marriage between a cinema star and a society woman has a better chance of success than one between two stars. Look at the Pickford-Fairbanks affair – and that was in my opinion more of a romance than this one of Clark’s.”

Mrs. Gable denied reports that she had intentions of marrying “the gentlemen with whom my name has been linked.” She said she expected to go to New York about March 1.

February 3, 1939 – Evening World

It will be a South American honeymoon for Clark Gable and Carole Lombard, but soon…

February 6, 1939 – Fresno Bee

Chatter in Hollywood: Guesses galore are being made as to when Carole Lombard becomes Mrs. Clark Gable. So far no one knows the exact date, but I do know that it will be the first weekend after March 6th and not in Hollywood. Miss Lombard and her favorite boyfriend will hie themselves to a nearby state and take their vows, moving immediately into the former Raoul Walsh Encino estate. It is to be a weekend marriage because of Gone with the Wind, which keeps the prospective bridegroom busy all week.

February 9, 1939 – The Jackson Sun

Clark Gable and Carole Lombard will play a serious romantic scene on March 17 – before a preacher…

February 10, 1939 – The Daily Journal

Carole Lombard has been having fun with Clark Gable again. Sent him two stuffed white doves to decorate his bungalow dressing room at Selznick’s…

February 11, 1939 – The Evening Independent

The town is still laughing over the birthday party that Carole Lombard gave to Clark Gable. He has just moved into his new valley home and the place is not yet completely furnished. So all the guests brought boxes to sit on. Carole’s birthday present to Clark was an old black mule. Andy Devine brought five chickens. But the gift that got the biggest guffaw of all was a sack of fertilizer.

February 11, 1939 – Buffalo Evening News

Clark Gable, Carole Lombard, et. al., have all changed the low license numbers on their cars to something less conspicuous, but Shirley Temple still drives around with a “2T5” label.

February 12, 1939 – Los Angeles Times

Clark Gable’s token to Carole Lombard is a heart-shaped cake decorated with an ice cream sculptured likeness of Carole…

February 13, 1939 – Hollywood Citizen

Don’t be startled if Robert Taylor an Barbara Stanwyck get married the same week that Carole Lombard and Clark Gable take the leap…

February 13, 1939 – Daily News

The marriage plans of Clark Gable and Carole Lombard include a New York visit and a Caribbean cruise.

February 14, 1939 – The Times

Hollywood offstage: Carole Lombard, wearing dark glasses, picking out a polka dot tie for Clark Gable in a Los Angeles department store…

February 16, 1939 – Daily News

… Carole Lombard looking at Valentine’s Day cards in a candy store….

February 19, 1939 – Charlotte Observer

Clark Gable was the recipient of an odd assortment of gifts at a party not long ago… Carole Lombard presented to him an old black mule… Another funster brought him some chickens of dubious quality… And a third merry-maker gave him a sack of fertilizer. 

February 21, 1939 - Daily News

In her first serious role in several years, Carlole Lombard is seen as a young mother whose everyday adventures with her struggling lawyer husband (James Stewart) are humanly portrayed in the David O. Selznick production “Made For Each Other,” opening tomorrow at Loew’s State and Grauman’s Chinese Theaters. Here is an informal “shot” of Miss Lombard getting acquainted with 1-year-old Jackie Taylor, who plays her son. 

February 23, 1939 – The Courier 

What a job Clark Gable is doing with the Raoul Walsh estate, assisted of course, by Carole Lombard, for it’s to be her home after their marriage. A white farmhouse located on a hill surrounded by graceful pepper and golden laden orange trees, it is being done in appropriate early American with attractive wall papers and antiques of that period. Clark has a gun room for his collection of firearms and Carole an upstairs sitting room which she will fill with books, magazines, etc. The house is in no sense of the word pretentious but so comfortable and livable that when finished it will be one of the most attractive homes in the valley.

February 26, 1939 – Daily News

Carole, Clark Await Bell – For Wedding

For about a minute and a half next Friday every feminine movie fan who wants to may turn her face to the West and sigh for Clark Gable.

That is the day when 41-year-old Mrs. Rhea Gable, who has been living in Las Vegas, Nevada, will have completed establishing legal residence and will be free to seek a divorce.

If she does get a divorce, Gable will be free to marry Carole Lombard, $485,000 a year screen comedienne and his partner in the film colony’s most famous “Unmarried Husband and Wife” romance.

There are plenty of indications that Clark and Carole are rushing their plans to bid farewell to glamour while settling down to a life of amiable domesticity.

After agreeing to pay Mrs. Gable the settlement for which she long battled, and to pay also all income tax on his payments to her, Clark bought Raoul Walsh’s Encino estate for $65,000. This is a tree-shaded paradise with orange and lemon groves, swimming pool, stables, kennels, and all the other paraphernalia for the luxurious rural life which Clark and Carole both crave.

Mrs. Gable, who married Clark in 1931, and separated from him in 1935, thinks that “a marriage between a cinema star and a society woman has a better chance of success than one between stars.”

She says that as soon as her divorce is granted she intends to visit New York, but that she has no intentions of marrying “the gentleman with whom my name has been linked.”

February 28, 1939 – Kansas City Star

Clark Gable is free to marry Carole Lombard this coming week…

February 28, 1939 – Philadelphia Inquirer

Gable’s Wife To Wed Again

The almost ex-Mrs. Clark Gable who is in Las Vegas awaiting her divorce may marry as soon as her former husband. Hal Strotz, the former Mrs. Jay Gould’s widower, flew to Las Vegas to spend the weekend as Mrs. Gable’s guest.

He telephones her every day, and according to her close friends, is devoted to Ria. Her divorce becomes final on March 6, and while there is no official word she will become Mrs. Strotz, things look serious between her and her admirer.