#i couldn’t stop thinking of them and this song

[holylulusworld]

How to cure a grump (1)

Summary: You're losing your job on Christmas.

Pairing: CEO/Boss!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, grumpy Bucky, awful boss

“Santa Claus is coming to town,” you sing along to the song blaring from your phone. You’re, as so often, the last one at the office.

Before the holidays, most of your colleagues try to get out of the office as early as possible. They have better plans than to work like busy ants two days before Christmas.

Sadly, you didn’t get to leave on the clock. Your boss demanded your attention. You couldn’t join your colleagues at the little Christmas party you organized for weeks.

Now they will all exchange the Secret Santa gifts you got for most of them, drink eggnog, and sing awful Christmas songs while you are stuck here with your grumpy boss.

“Miss Y/L/N, I need the numbers now." Mr. Barnes doesn’t even walk toward your desk. He simply barks orders your way.

You heave out a sigh and glance at the stack of papers on your desk. Before you get up to hand Mr. Barnes the numbers he wanted you to finish before the holidays, you save your work.

Grabbing the papers, you silently pray that Mr. Barnes won’t come up with more tasks. It’s long past your work time, and you’re tired and cranky. You’ll need a good night’s sleep and at least a day off before driving home for Christmas.

“Miss Y/L/N,” he barks as you are already halfway toward his office. Mr. Barnes huffs as you stumble over your own feet. “You know, I had better things to do than wait for the numbers. I have been waiting for hours. I think you’re the worst person working here.”

For a second, you’re stunned. You feel like Mr. Barnes slapped you across your face.

“Maybe if you asked the person responsible for the mistake to help you with the numbers, you'd like the outcome better. I worked overtime only to get yelled at!” You gasp. The words just flew out of your mouth, unfiltered and raw with emotions.

“Well, maybe you shouldn’t work here any more then!” He bites back. It wasn’t a surprise to you that Mr. Barnes lost his temper. He’s always been a little hot-headed and grumpy. Mr. Barnes fired people here and there over the years. You just didn’t think you’d be one of them one day.

“You’re firing me after I fixed a mistake someone else made?” You huff and cross your arms over your chest. “I don’t see anyone else standing in line to work through the numbers. I worked overtime before the holidays to do you a favor.”

“That’s your job,” he growls and points at the door. “Or was. I want you to pack your things and don’t come back.”

“Fine,” you huff and turn on your heels, regretting your mishap instantly. You’d apologize and even fall to your knees to get your job back. Sadly, Mr. Barnes is a strict man. He doesn’t accept mistakes or insubordination. Whatever you’d do or say, there was no way he’d give you your job back.

So, you got a box from the storage room, emptied your desk, grabbed your belongings, and left the building for the last time in your life. To hell with this job and your boss.

“Mom, stop asking questions,” you plead as your mother wouldn’t stop asking questions about your job.

“It’s all so exciting. Living in the big city, having friends you meet up at bars like Carrie in Sex and the City, and your job. It sounds wonderful!”

“Mom, I barely made any friends,” you sigh, and try to rub the embarrassment off your face. “I’d call them work friends or acquaintances.”

“I bet they are all too happy to have you around,” she coos and cups your face. “I know my Munchkin conquered the big city in no time.”

“Mom, I—” you sniffle and look away, ashamed. It never gets easy to lie to your mother. “I have to tell you something about the job.”

“What is it, Munchkin?” she asks, looking at you, worry in her eyes. She coos to you as you begin to cry. Starting anew after your long-term boyfriend and fiancé broke things up was the dream you wanted to fulfill. Now, you failed again.

“I got fired yesterday,” you sniff. “I worked overtime, and my boss yelled at me. I fixed someone else’s mistake, and he still yelled at me. I lost it and…” You shake your head and refuse to look at your mother.

“Y/N, that’s not the end of the world.” She wraps you in a warm embrace. The kind of embrace only a mother can give you. You feel warm and safe, remembering all the times she calmed you in times of need. “You’ll find a new job, a better one. If he fired you, that man doesn’t know how to value you.”

“The fuck no!” Bucky flings a stack of papers across the room. He tried to access your account, only to realize he never asked you to reset your password. Now he’s seething because most of your work, except the files you shared with colleagues and him, is password protected. “She forgot to reset the fucking password!”

“Well, you told her to pack her things and leave, Buck. What did you expect to happen?” Steve huffs. He had to leave his cozy home and wife to help Bucky with some unimportant paperwork. “We've got time to fix this until after the holidays.”

“Unimportant to you,” Bucky bites back. “I want this finished before the year ends.”

“Buck,” Steve snorts. “If you need her password, call her.” The blonde shrugs before turning to leave. “I know you are not the best at communicating, but I believe in you. You can handle a phone call with a woman you just fired.”

“I tried more than once,” Bucky snaps at his best friend and business partner. “She won’t answer. The last time I called, she blocked my number.”

“Yeah, because you fired her!” Steve replies, laughing. “I wouldn’t answer any call from an asshole firing me two days before Christmas, either.”

Bucky opens his mouth to reply. He huffs as his friend already walks toward the door.

“What shall I do now? I need the password!”

“If you cannot reach her, go to her home and ask for the password. I will go home now. Please don’t call me during Christmas. Natasha will rip me a new one if I miss Christmas.”

“She’s not home. I was there. Her neighbors told me that Y/N will spend Christmas at her parents’ house. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Buck,” Steve laughs. “You can fly to her hometown and ask her for the password. While on your way back, you can celebrate with a pretty stewardess in first class as every Christmas…”

[starkeynation]

I love you, I’m sorry

A letter from reader to Rafe

Content: Angst, like PURE sad, the lamp looks weird, based on the song I love you, I’m sorry by Gracie Abrams (may or may not be accurate)

A/N: about that cliffhanger and happy ending, I changed my mind… also ignore any writing mistakes if there’s any and this was kinda rushed so I hope it still turns out good

Masterlist

dividers from @anitalenia

Rafe,

It is Saturday night. I should be out doing something, partying or whatever to enjoy myself, yet here i am, pen in hand, finding myself writing to you again. I know this letter will never reach you- it’ll end up crumpled at the bottom of my drawer or burned to ashes. Still, I can’t seem to stop myself.

It has been exactly two august ago since everything fell apart. I remember the way I laid it all out, raw, I wanted to be real, hoping that honesty would mend us. We weren’t perfect. Hell, we were far from it. We fought like fire and gasoline, burning everything we touched. Jealousy leads us to mistrust each other but even then, I didn’t think it would end the way it did. I never thought that fight would be the last..the final, devastating blow before you ghosted me and blocked me everywhere.

I swear it wasn’t my intention to break up with you, I thought by exposing the cracks, we could patch them together. Instead, the truth just ended up pushing you away. When you drove off in your Benz and left me standing at my gate, it felt like everything had stopped. The time, the world, my heart…everything froze. I couldn’t breathe. I wanted to scream, I wanted to stop you, beg you to stay, to tell you that we could still save us but you didn’t look back, and i was too late.

Now, i watch you from a distance as you become successful, helping your dad doing business, running Cameron’s development like you were born to do it. I heard your name whispered in admiration at the club where I work, how you charm people the way you trained for. And you know what? I’m so so proud of you Rafe. I always knew you had it in you. I’ll be rooting for you always, even from the shadows.

Maybe two summers from now we’ll be talking again at some point, exchange smiles, our lives untangled and we’re cool again. I can picture you’ll be in your family’s jet, travelling, and me, on my boat moving on with our own lives. By then, i hope..im actually ready to move on. I know you’ve already moved on- I mean, why wouldn’t you? Still, there’s part of me wish that you wouldn’t yet, and maybe, just maybe, you would take me back.

But that’s just selfish isn’t it? I was selfish when we were together too. I made everything about me, i was inconsiderate, I turn something small into raging battles. I didn’t listen, didn’t see you for who you were. I’m ashamed of the person I was, of the mistakes I made. After everything i did, I’m surprised you haven’t send someone to kill me yet.

Lately I find myself sitting on the porch, watching sunsets like we used to, with a glass of something strong in my hand. I laugh at myself, at the crash I made, because what else can I do? It’s a twisted kind of coping—laughing at my own heartbreak. It doesn’t feel real and it’s really hard to let go but i guess that’s just the way life goes.

I know i was a dick, Rafe. I had too many flaws to count but as sick as it sounds, I loved you first. You’ll always be my first love. You were the best and the worst thing that ever happened to me, a storm that left me shattered but alive. Your love had impact me deeply, it is carved in my soul. No matter where we are, i want you to know that I’ll carry the past and the weight of my mistakes with me. Trust me, it will always, haunt me.

I regret every second for not treating you well, for not being the person you needed. Lastly, i want you to know that I still, truly, deeply, love you, I’m sorry.

*Ding* you heard the bell rings. You rush downstairs to answer the door.

“Pizza delivery”, says the delivery boy standing in front of you. You almost forgot you ordered one, an hour ago. You take your prepaid alfredo chicken pizza and thank him. It was Rafe’s favourite pizza, you’re not sure if it’s still his favourite though. After shutting the door, you walk to your kitchen.

Just two seconds later, *ding* the bell rings again. Did the delivery boy forget anything? You thought.

You open the door, “yes-“ you pause. You couldn’t believe it, standing right in front of you,

“Topper?”

“Topper what are you doing here?” you ask, your voice laced with confusion.

He then steps aside and reveals a man behind him, lying on the steps of your porch- a man whose silhouette you’d recognize anywhere. “Rafe,” you whisper.

“Shit I’m sorry to bother you but this dumbass got into an accident for driving while he’s high,” Topper blurts out, panickly.

Your brow furrowing and your confusion deepens. You walk closer to Rafe and spot the blood dripping from his head, “Accident? What? Then why do you bring him here instead of the hospital?” You ask, your voice sharp, slicing through the chaos of the moment.

“He won’t let me. He insisted I bring him here to see you,” Topper explains.

“Y/n,” Rafe speaks up, his voice low and strained.

Your heart skips a beat. It’s like the universe has stopped spinning again. This is the first time you hear him calling your name after two whole years.

“Hey Rafe, you’re bleeding,” you say, your voice mix with feelings.

“I’m fine,” he says, giving a soft, disarming smile while trying to sit up.

You instruct Topper to go find some cloth to stop the bleeding. As he dissapears, you sit on your knees facing to Rafe, “Rafe, what happened? Why are you here?” you ask, still have no clue of what’s going on here.

“I wanted to see you,” he replies, putting on that damn smile again, the one that’s always managed to unravel you. “I miss you, y/n.”

Your face goes pale, your eyes widens, the words hang in the hair, heavy and unexpected. “Rafe, you’re drunk,” you accuse, trying to make sense of what’s happening right now.

“No, I’m not, i swear I’m very conscious right now,” he insists, his voice firm. You’re still not sure if he’s telling the truth or not. “I really miss you, y/n,” he continues, his voice low but still clear for you to hear it.

Your heart aches, torn between disbelief and the undeniable pull of his words. “How hard did you hit your head? God, you’re still bleeding. We need to see a doctor,” you say, trying to stand up, but he grabs your hand, pulling you back down.

“Stop it, I’m fine i swear…this is nothing,” he says waving off the concern. Just then, Topper returns with a towel in his hand. He hands the towel to you and says, “dude, are you sure you’re okay? When i saw your car there were smokes everywhere. Looks like you hit that tree pretty hard,” his voice fill with concern.

“I’m fine Top, just go. I need to talk to y/n,” Rafe says with a dismissive wave. Topper hesitates, he looks at you for confirmation as if you’re the one in charge here. You nod at him, signalling an approval, “s’okay Top i can handle this.”

“Okay, just call me if anything happens,” he says. “Thank you,” you mutter softly to Topper as he’s leaving towards his car.

With Topper gone, you shift your focus back to Rafe. You take the towel and start dabbing on the blood on his forehead, “we still need to get this stitched up,” you say. Rafe then grabs your wrist, his grip firm but not forceful, “look at me,” he demands.

You look at him straight in the eyes, drowning in his blue eyes. It’s overwhelming- staring at the man that you love but no longer yours.

“I do mean what i said, i miss you y/n and i wanted to see you,” he says, his tone steady and sure.

“But why now?” You ask, your voice breaking under the weight of the question.

“Sar..Sarah told me tonight that you’ve been writing letters about me. She found them stashed under your bed,” he says, hesitantly.

Your stomach drops and you shake your head in disbelief, “God…i knew it there was something wrong. She was acting so weird when she left this morning,” you mutter.

“So it’s true? You’ve been writing about me?”

Your face is turning red, you’re struggling to find the words. “I- yes…I’ve been writing letters. Pretending like I’m gonna send it to you but i never do,” you stutter.

“Why didn’t you just send them?” He presses, his voice low, almost pleading.

“You know why Rafe…you’ve moved on. You blocked me few months after we broke up. You’re thriving now with your job, you got your whole life together, and I- I was the reason why we broke up. I can’t just crawl my way back into your life like nothing happened,” you shatter, your voice breaking as you’re struggling to control your tears.

Rafe shakes his head. He brushes his thumb over your knuckles and kisses it. “You’re wrong y/n, you’re absolutely wrong. I’ve been doing nothing over the past two years except than trying to forget about you. That’s why I’ve been doing all these jobs, thinking it could distract me, but no,” he shakes his head again. “Nothing could make me stop thinking about you.”

His confession leaves you breathless, your tears streaming down your face as he continues. “About the blocking and disappearing, I’m really sorry, I was a coward. The truth is, that day i came to your house to apologize. Then, as I stood outside, i saw you were laughing with jj through your window. I knew you guys were not together cause after jj left, I may or may not have confronted him…” he then mouthed sorry. “But then, I remember the way you looked so happy when you’re with him. At that time, I knew I had to let you go cause you deserve someone better and you deserve to be happy so that’s why I blocked you..as if that makes any difference.”

You idiot,” you scoff. “I never wanted anyone else, only you Rafe, only you. You’re the only one who could truly make me happy.”

His eyes glisten, his smile soft and hesitant. “Please forgive me y/n, I swear I’m a better person now and I love- I love you, so much. I still do.”

You reach up, caress his cheek and pull him in for a kiss. “I love you too Rafe,” you whisper. He cups your face and returns the kiss. The kiss is passionate, slow and tender. His lip is so soft and only god knows how much you miss this. The world fades around you, leaving only the two of you, two broken pieces finding their way back to each other.

You pull away from his face and let out a giggle. “Why are you laughing?” He asks, can’t help but let out a soft giggle too.

“Before you came I was actually writing another letter for you,” you admit, a shy smile appears on your face.

“Oh really? Tell me about it baby,” he smirks. Your smile widens at the sound of the nickname that rolls out from his mouth. “Mm I miss that. You, calling me baby. Anyways, it’s in my room, wanna come in?” You ask.

He shakes his head, pulling you closer as he leans back against the stairs railing. “Hmm in a bit sweetheart, you can tell me here while we stargaze. I missed your porch- and mostly you, of course,” he replies with a faint smile.

So you do. You talk to him about the letter while your head rest on his shoulder and your fingers intertwined. “Lastly I wrote, I love you, I’m sorry,” you say, explaining the last content of the letter. But then, you realise he has gone quiet. His stillness unsettling. You glance up to him, “Rafe?” He’s not responding. You check his pulse but there is none. Panic sets in as you shake him, calling his name.

“Rafe”

“Rafe, wake up”

“Wake up!”

“Wake up!”

“Y/n”

“Y/n”

“Y/n, wake up”

You gasp, your heart is pounding like a drum. You’re sweating all over your body as reality crashes down. It was a nightmare.

“Hey..baby you okay?” You turn your head to your right and realise it’s Rafe. He’s okay, he’s alive and he’s sitting on the bed next to you. Relief floods through you like a tidal wave.

“Is it the nightmare again?” He asks. You nod, signalling him that he’s right.

“It’s okay baby I got you. Here, come back to sleep,” he says, gently pulling you into his arms. You smile and cuddle him, clinging to the illusion of safety his embrace provides. You close your eyes again trying to fall back to sleep till your alarm suddenly rings.

You wake up with a tear running down your cheek. You hit the snooze button and realise that was a dream and this time, it’s the true reality. You look to the other side of your bed, it’s empty. It always has been for quite a while now. The truth is, that night after Rafe collapsed, you called for an ambulance. On the way to the hospital, they try everything to make his heart beat again, but nothing works. It was too late. He had lost too many blood before that you weren’t aware of and that same night, Rafe had died in your arms.

It’s been 3 years since the tragic. You keep having the same dream almost every night. Part of you is grateful that you and Rafe had ended in good terms but another part of you knows that the truth is you’ll never get the chance to redeem yourself and be a better partner. There’s nothing remaining other than the memories that will haunt you forever.

Rafe, if you’re hearing this, I love you, I’m sorry.

Like and reblog if you want to kys after reading this😇☺️

[koalayoo]

Men who talk a certain way.

They carry themselves with elegance, talk with a poised cadence unique to them. They hold themselves upright and have an air of superiority. A cunning look, signature smirk, firm hand; these are staples of their character, they know how to strike a deal. Whether for their people or their own gain, they intimidate those to gain an advantage no matter how many exploits gone through or people exploited.

People either love or fear them.

They’re important.

It’s no surprise that they sit at the centre of the table at a meeting, commanding attention. All eyes are on them, gripping their every word. Prompt nods and murmurs of agreements follow. They’re smart too. Incredible wit and perceptiveness as they continuously glance at everyone, especially you.

Fuck, and they’re hot too.

It makes your blood run hot. Jolts shoot throughout your body and you avert your gaze. It was stupid to you to be losing your cool for a man who felt indifferent about your existence. Maybe that isn’t the right word. 

Sometimes, you would question whether he hated you. Whenever you needed a pen, your hands brushed against one another for a second and he would quickly pull back as if being stung by a bee with a slight scowl forming on his face. If the piles of paper you needed to finish took too long, he would be adamant you finish for the night, which is all fine and dandy if he wasn’t looking for help from others to complete your work. He even reprimanded you, talked to you in that familiar stern tone once for not having your priorities in place when a stranger came up to you in a flirtatious manner as if you could control that. 

He pissed you off. 

Why couldn’t he care about you like a normal person?

However, you were wrong about all of it. He cared too much.

When your fingers grazed him he was ridden with guilt, these were the same hands he would think about at night. Imagine tracing the sharp edges of his skin. He would shut his eyes and throw his head back, replacing his hands with your own. Try to commit the soft feel of yours to his. Would you go slow or fast? He wondered. How would you hold him? Would you let him make a mess? His thoughts would trail on and on questioning your grip, your face, what you would say.

So, it was no surprise when he saw you working yourself to exhaustion that he wanted you to rest. That was his duty after all. Only he could do that. The eyes that he desperately wanted to see glazed over with a lust filled haze needed to be well rested first. That way, he could slowly see them become drunk for him, turning red, bloodshot from just how well he would treat you.

And it was especially no surprise that when another person had the audacity to want you too, he had to stop them. Sure, you didn’t deserve the scolding but he would make you feel so much better later on. He just had to be patient.

Had to keep his tone steady and tame. Pretend to treat you just like everyone else. Even if you thought he hated you. He could fuck you like that too if you wanted. He would give you anything you wanted. However, you didn’t deserve to know how depraved he truly was.

There was a thought that lingered at the forefront of his mind. If you found out just how he imagined you, would you leave? He figured you might feel disgusted, a man of his caliber, his power, wanting to succumb to you. And so he continued to talk. Continued to keep his tone steady. Keep his tone tame. 

He would keep himself in line; refined. Because if you found out how he was imagining you, perhaps then this man would truly feel fear.

fantasising about...

Sylus, NEUVILLETTE, Jing Yuan, Welt, Sunday, DAN HENG, Artem, Zhongli!, Gepard, Alhaitham?, Cyno ...and anyone else you're thinking of

Hope you liked this! Inspired by the song 'Talk' by Hozier. Specifically the line, "So I'll try to talk refined for fear that you find out how I'm imaginin' you." Please give it a listen! It was in my Spotify Top 5 it's so good and captures the vibe I was trying to go for with this. Sorry for the yap. Likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated!

[icyg4l]

Who Wants to Kiss You Under the Mistletoe? ❄️🎄

Hello beautiful people! It’s been a long time since we’ve gathered together. But I am back and better, coming to you all with a collab with the beautiful @icanseethefuture333! I hope you all enjoy and have a wonderful and safe holiday season. Without further ado, please select the Destiny’s Child/Beyoncé Christmas photo that resonates with you to find out who wants to kiss you under the mistletoe :)

Pile One: You have someone from the past missing you, Pile One. I get this energy of a regretful lover who wishes to start over with you. They regret not paying as much attention to you as they should have when they were in your life. They would like to make it right. Someone here is a nursing student or could be working as a medical assistant. This plays a part into why things did not work out; busy schedules can lead to resentment down the line. I heard “you got it all wrong, dear” as I was channeling messages. It feels like you could have misconstrued this person’s intentions as childish when they weren’t. You’re tired of the games, but there weren’t any played to begin with. They just couldn’t multitask and decided to let you go. Practice patience, kindness and compassion with your next lover. They will need it. But just for future reference, keep your love connections light and upbeat. It will save your heart from serious damage.

Tarot Cards Used: The Emperor, Wheel of Fortune, Princess of Wands, 2 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Express Your Love - Go ahead and make the romantic gesture.

Flirt - Extend your lighthearted energy to others.

Stay Optimistic About Your Love Life - Positive thinking and faith will bring you romance.

extras: baked bread. finished clinicals. America. Philippines. feeling drained. Looking for partnership.

Bonus Songs: Hold Tight by Justin Bieber. Let it Go by Elsa. Pick up the phone by travis scott, young thug and migos.

Pile Two: You know exactly who this person is! You and this person have similar music tastes, probably are both into niche artists or deep cuts of popular artists. This person likes to send you cute subliminals on social media, such as posting a song dedicated to you using the note feature on Instagram. This person is very aggressive in their approach. You keep resisting this connection, but you shouldn’t! Is this person not your type? Are you scared because they have children? Are you an ashamed single parent? Are you a bored college student that needs excitement in your life? Well, just know that this is your person, and you can ask for all the signs in the world but this will end up being your lover. It is possible that you two could be in a long distance situation, however, this is not stopping your person from showing up as their best selves. If given the chance to kiss them under the mistletoe, just do it! What the hell? What could go wrong?

Tarot Cards Used: Queen of Swords, The Hanged Man, King of Wands, King of Cups.

Oracle Cards Used:

Keep an Open Mind - Your soul mate may differ from your usual type and expectations.

Children - Your love life is being affected by children.

This Could Be the One: You’ve already met the romantic partner you seek.

extras: joy. georgia. SJW. emeli sande. letting it unfold. global peace prize. traumatic past.

Bonus Songs: My Love by Justin Timberlake. Feeling Myself by Beyonce. Let Me Love You by Mario.

Pile Three: Pile Three, your person hasn’t been shy about their advances at all. This is someone who finds themself to be incredibly attractive. They could be big on partying. They’re kind of intimidating (to you). But there’s no need to be scared, love. Get out of your head and get in the field. You are not out of this person’s league. You’re simply a human being with feelings that need to be expressed. Trust, the feeling is mutual. When this eventually happens, you two could be planning on watching a movie and there will be tension between the two of you. It’s also possible that this kiss could happen in front of other people. I saw a bowl of popcorn in my third eye. This could lead to other acts, if you catch my drift. You’re a hard worker, but you deserve to experience love. There is nothing wrong with taking a break and just allowing yourself to bask in the presence of someone who makes you feel free! This person does not care about your baggage, they only care about spending time with you. So go with the flow, you control freak!

Tarot Cards Used: Strength, The Hierophant, Queen of Wands, 4 of Wands.

Oracle Cards Used:

Finances and Career - Financial issues are a factor in your love life right now.

Very Soon - Clearly decide what you want so that it comes to you now!

You Deserve Love - You are lovable!

extras: sunburnt. 11th house placements. drinking. raybans. “beauty is in the eye of the beholder”

Bonus Songs: Out of My League by Fitz and the Tantrums. First Position by Kehlani.

Pile Four: As I was shuffling, I heard the word, “observant”. This person could be watching you from a distance. There is a strong connection to the Atlanta area here. You or this person could be from there. You could be visiting and vice versa. There is something about this person that brings out the girly teengirl in you, lol. This person makes you feel really giggly. This person has beautiful eyes that captivate you. They have a detached, suave demeanor to them. It seems as though they’re not real. They seem to have a level of stability in your life that you do not have, and this draws you to them. They seem to be the “perfect package” for you. As for whether or not you should kiss them, you should wait. There should be some type of buildup between the two of you. There will be some type of waiting period, of which you will endure. There could be some type of interruption (maybe a couple honestly), but the kiss will be worth it.

Tarot Cards Used: 9 of Discs. King of Cups. 8 of Cups. The Hierophant.

Oracle Cards Used:

Playfulness - To recapture romance, allow your inner youthful spirit of fun to shine!

Healing Family Issues - Your love life benefits as you forgive your parents.

Attraction - You attract romantic love by enjoying this moment fully.

extras: traveling to/from atlanta. it’s the journey. children of the corn (1984). the perfect holiday (2007). jayson tatum.

Bonus Songs: Are You That Somebody by Aaliyah. Haters by OMG Girlz. Crush by Mulatto. Check it Out by william. Fantasy by Mariah Carey. Goosebumps by Travis Scott.

[always-just-red]

15 for sylus if it inspires you at all👀 i love your work, it is always so playful and in character and the writing itself is lovely

Hiiiii! Thank you, and thanks so much for this prompt-- I laughed so much as soon as I read the words ‘heavenly harmonies’ with Sylus in mind ahaha 💀 Hope you enjoy!

Sylus X Reader 🩸🎄☃️❄️

Prompt #015: out on the streets doing christmas carolling, blessing the streets with the sweet voices of heavenly harmonies.

“You know, I think this is gonna be some kind of record.”

You give your collection basket a shake, enamoured by the hoard within: a sea of coins that clink, clink, clink as you jostle them, strewn with countless loose notes. There’s a watch in there, too.

“I told you, sweetie…” Sylus is using his phone as a mirror, adjusting the ‘scarf’ you fashioned him from a rope of ruby tinsel. “Your taste in music has room for improvement.” 

You’re not sure what tickles you more: the ironically tone-deaf comment, or the way his antlers jingle when he speaks. Of all the things you fished out from the back of your cupboard to dress-up your last-minute carolling partner, those must be your favourite. They’re red, soft— covered in tiny, gold bells. They’ve slipped slightly on his head, and you chew your lip as he reaches to steady them, making them jingle again. 

“Stop staring,” he tuts with a knowing smile, though his eyes never leave his reflection. 

“Stop preening,” you giggle back. “Who are you— Mephisto?” 

There’s a gentle snort as Sylus tucks his phone into his pocket. He crosses his arms, gazing up at the building you’re standing outside of. “We’re hitting this place next, hmm?” 

“Yep!” You rap a gloved hand against the door. “But don’t say it like that.” 

“Like what?”

“Like a mobster from a black and white movie. Capiche?”

You give him a side-eye. He trades you a smirk.

Warm tones of light leak from the house’s windows, and you feel cosy, despite the persistent bite of the snow and the cold. You knock on the door again; someone is clearly home, and this is the one time of year you get to be annoying without consequence. Twelve months of forced smiles and unrelenting politeness. You are the face of the Association, remember? 

But tonight— and just for tonight— that face can be whatever you want it to be. It’s for charity! 

You knock again. And then again. The house’s lights go out, but your face goes darker. You’re not leaving without something, not when Tara’s out on her winter fun-run, and Xavier’s risking civilian lives with a bake sale. You’re going to beat them. You have to beat them. 

… And raise money for the protection of harmless, small Wanderers, of course. 

Time for your secret weapon. You lift a finger from your basket— a conductor, preparing an orchestra for incoming instruction. Sylus knows the drill. You count him in with a: “one, two, three, four…” 

“Dashing through the snow,” he starts. 

“In a one-horse open sleigh!” 

“O’er the fields we go, laughing all the way!” 

Ha ha ha.

“Bells on bobtails ring, making spirits bright!”

Together: “What fun it is to ride and sing a sleighing song tonight, OH—!” 

The door is flung open, stopping both of you in your loud, tuneless tracks. “Here!” exclaims a flustered young man, “here— this is what you want, right? Take it!” 

He fumbles with his wallet for all of a second before emptying it into your basket. He shakes it to dislodge a few, stubborn coins.

“That’s really kind of you, sir. The Association appreciates your—” 

The door slams shut, but you couldn’t care less. You smile down at your little pile of treasure and almost squeal in delight.

“Happy?” Sylus asks. 

“More than happy!” You set the basket down then go up on your tiptoes, clasping his face with both hands. His antlers jingle. “You’re amazing, Sylus.” 

Soft as it is, it’s still an ambush. His eyes are wide, and he… doesn’t know what to say. 

Cold is seeping through your gloves. “Oh, are you warm enough?” you fret. Your hands fall from his cheeks so you can pull on the collar of his coat, drawing it closer around his neck. 

“I’m… fine.” 

“Really?” 

“Really.”

It’s not an argument you can win. You think if Sylus were frozen from the depths of his heart to the tips of his toes, he would still be out carolling with you. 

Selfless idiot. You laugh as you step back from him and stoop to collect your basket. “That’s a shame,” you tease. There’s a bounce in your step as you leave him. “I was gonna say we should go for hot chocolate. Or huddle for warmth, like penguins. Did you know that they—”

Sylus’s arms are around you suddenly, hugging you from behind so you can’t slip away again. His chin meets your shoulder, his face: the crook of your neck. You can feel his breath, warm on your skin where the night air won’t find it. It’s always been yours.

“I am a little cold,” he confesses, weak only with you. For you.

“Home and hot chocolate?” you chuckle. 

He sighs blissfully: “Please.”

[ana-reblogsposts]

𝐄𝐦𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐲𝐥𝐞

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐄 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 | 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐎𝐏𝐄𝐍

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘 - A cozy night in turns into a TikTok-worthy moment as Theo hums along to Disney songs, indulges in snacks, and proves he’s not as intimidating as he seems.

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄 - Inspired by a tiktok I saw and had to write it and because I just did my third re-watch of encanto and why not add that.

𝐃𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐂𝐑𝐄𝐃 - @bernardsbendystraws

The soft glow of fairy lights filled the room, casting a warm, cozy ambiance over Y/N’s bedroom.

She lay nestled among a pile of pillows on her bed, scrolling through her phone while the familiar melody of Encanto played in the background.

Beside her, Theo Nott—her usually composed and brooding boyfriend—looked utterly out of character.

A pale green face mask covered his face, and one of her fluffy pastel headbands held back his dark hair.

Between them sat a tray of snacks: popcorn, chocolate-covered pretzels, and an ice cream tub already half gone.

Theo leaned back against the headboard, his long legs stretched out, one hand absentmindedly tapping to the rhythm of the music as the TV lit up his sharp features.

Y/N couldn’t help but grin at the sight. She opened the TikTok app, quickly typing a caption that read, “When he gets used to your lifestyle 🥹💗”, before tilting her phone camera towards Theo.

He didn’t notice at first. His eyes were fixed on the screen as he hummed along to “We Don’t Talk About Bruno.”

A smudge of ice cream lingered at the corner of his mouth, which he didn’t seem to notice as he sang softly under his breath.

“Seven-foot frame, rats along his back…” he muttered, his voice low and a little off-key but undeniably earnest.

Y/N pressed her lips together, trying not to laugh, and zoomed in slightly to capture the moment.

Theo looked so different from his usual self—stoic, mysterious, and borderline intimidating—yet somehow, this version of him was her favorite.

It wasn’t until the song transitioned to the next verse that Theo turned and caught sight of her phone pointed squarely at him. He froze mid-bite of a chocolate pretzel.

“Wait,” he said, narrowing his eyes. “Are you filming me?”

Y/N giggled, not bothering to hide her amusement. “How could I not? You’re adorable!”

Theo groaned and dropped his head back against the pillows. "Amore…” he drawled, though the smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth betrayed his mock annoyance. “You’re lucky I love you. If this ends up online…”

“Oh, it’s definitely going online,” she teased, lowering her phone just slightly.

Theo gave her a look but shook his head in defeat. “Fine. But if we watch Encanto for a fourth time, you’re the one wearing the face mask next.”

Y/N burst out laughing, leaning into his side as she stopped recording. “Deal,” she said, her laughter trailing off into a contented sigh.

As the movie played on, Theo absentmindedly began humming along again, his deep voice blending with the colorful soundtrack.

Y/N set her phone aside, smiling to herself as she rested her head on his shoulder.

For all his protests, Theo didn’t seem to mind her world of cozy nights, Disney movies, and skincare routines. In fact, he fit into it perfectly.

And as Theo hummed along to the next verse, she couldn’t help but think she wouldn’t change a single thing about him.

[h4nj1sunggg]

𝐑𝐎𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐒 ( l. minho x h. jisung ) - 09.

ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist )  . ᯓᡣ𐭩　  ( masterlist roommates )  .

taglist ! @estella-novella @fackeraccount @ihrtlix @hanji-coffee

words: 3.4k

It wasn’t until you were alone in your apartment, the quiet of the night pressing in around you, that the overthinking began. The day had been filled with so much—Minho’s steadiness, Jisung’s vibrant energy, and the undeniable warmth that both of them had shown you. Yet, as the glow of the evening faded, doubt began to creep in.

You sat on the edge of your bed, staring at the small stuffed bear Jisung had won for you at the arcade. It sat propped up against your pillow, an innocent reminder of the whirlwind night you’d just shared. A part of you wanted to laugh at how surreal everything felt. These weren’t just any two men showing interest in you—they were Lee Minho and Han Jisung, idols you had admired from afar for years.

The thought made your chest tighten. You had been a fan of Jisung’s music since you were a teenager, his songs helping you navigate some of the toughest moments of your life. And Minho? His performances had always left you in awe, his quiet charisma pulling you in even through a screen. To think that these two larger-than-life figures were now a part of your reality felt… overwhelming.

Your mind spiraled. What if this was all some kind of fluke? What if they got to know you better and realized you weren’t as interesting or special as they thought? What if the fact that you were a fan made things weird? You could already imagine the awkwardness if that ever came up in conversation.

A wave of self-consciousness washed over you, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, as if trying to shield yourself from the doubts swirling in your mind.

They’re idols, you thought, the word carrying a weight that felt impossible to ignore. They’ve toured the world, performed in front of thousands of fans, and have lives that are so much bigger than mine. What could they possibly see in me?

The logical part of your brain tried to intervene. Minho and Jisung had both gone out of their way to spend time with you. They had been nothing but kind, attentive, and genuine. But the doubts were relentless, whispering that it was only a matter of time before reality set in.

You sighed, running a hand through your hair as you stood and began to pace the room. The familiarity of the small space was a comfort, but even that couldn’t quiet your racing thoughts.

What would people think if they knew? The idea of being judged—by fans, by strangers, or even by yourself—felt daunting. You weren’t sure if you were ready for the kind of scrutiny that might come with being in their lives.

A sudden knock at your door snapped you out of your thoughts. For a brief moment, panic surged through you. Who could it be at this hour? You hesitated before crossing the room and peeking through the peephole.

It was your best friend. Relief flooded you as you opened the door to see them standing there with a bag of snacks and a concerned look on their face.

“I had a feeling you’d be overthinking,” she said, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. “Figured you could use some company.”

You managed a small smile, grateful for her intuition. “You know me too well.”

They plopped down on your couch, opening the bag to reveal an assortment of your favorite snacks. “Okay, spill. What’s going on in that overactive brain of yours?”

You sat beside her, hugging a pillow to your chest. “It’s just… a lot. Minho and Jisung are amazing, and I had such a great time with both of them, but I can’t stop thinking about how different our lives are. They’re idols. I’m just… me.”

Your best friend raised an eyebrow. “First of all, you’re not just anything. You’re smart, funny, kind, and anyone would be lucky to know you. Second, they clearly see something in you, or they wouldn’t be making the effort.”

“I know, but—”

“No buts,” she interrupted, pointing a finger at you. “You’re overthinking this. You don’t have to have all the answers right now. Just take things one step at a time. Enjoy getting to know them, and let them get to know you. The rest will figure itself out.”

You nodded slowly, her words sinking in. She was right—there was no use in letting your insecurities ruin something that had the potential to be amazing. For now, all you could do was take things as they came and trust that Minho and Jisung saw the real you.

“Thanks,” you said, leaning your head against her shoulder. “I needed that.”

“Anytime,” she replied, handing you a bag of chips. “Now, let’s binge-watch something ridiculous and forget about all this heavy stuff for a while.”

warnings: jisung is faking role playing for a moment, pet names, they have no role but it's a soft hot sex, dirty talks, oral (f receiving), nipples stimulation, double penetration, unprotected sex (don't be silly), breeding.

The day starts like any other, with Minho and Jisung texting you, their usual playful energy radiating through the messages.

You stare at the screen, your fingers hovering over the keyboard. Normally, you’d jump at the chance to spend time with them, but lately, a nagging feeling has taken root in your chest. You shake your head, trying to dispel the doubts, but they persist. “Why do they even like me?” you think to yourself. “I’m not enough for them.”

Minutes later, your phone rings. It’s Minho. You hesitate but eventually answer, his familiar voice immediately filling your ear. “What’s going on?” he asks, skipping the pleasantries. “You’ve been distant lately.”

“I’ve just been… busy,” you say, your voice lacking conviction.

“Busy doing what?” Jisung’s voice cuts in—he’s on speaker. “Come on, angel. Talk to us.”

You bite your lip, the urge to open up battling with your fear of being vulnerable. Finally, you sigh. “I just… I feel like I’m not enough for you guys. Like I don’t deserve to be with you.”

There’s a beat of silence on the other end before Minho speaks, his tone firm but gentle. “That’s ridiculous. You’re more than enough.”

“Way more than enough,” Jisung adds, his voice softer than usual. “Why would you even think that?”

You hesitate, the words sticking in your throat. “I don’t know. You’re both so… amazing. And I’m just… me.”

“Exactly. You’re you,” Minho says. “And we like you for you. Not for what you think you need to be.”

Jisung hums in agreement. “Seriously. If anything, we’re lucky you put up with us. Have you met Minho when he’s grumpy?”

“Hey,” Minho protests, but you can hear the smile in his voice.

You can’t help but laugh softly, the weight on your chest lifting just a little. “I’m sorry for being distant. I just… needed some time to sort things out.”

“We get it,” Minho says. “But next time, talk to us. We’re here for you.”

“Always,” Jisung adds. “Now, get over here. We miss you.”

A small smile tugs at your lips. “Okay. I’ll be there soon.”

The other side of the phone cuts the call and you sigh standing up, almost dragging your body out of your room. Lucky for you that they live the apartment in front of yours. You knock at the door, you can hear their voices that are talking. Maybe some of the new songs that Jisung is keeping hide from the public, but you can hear the tone of his voice in the bars it’s darker, almost sexual for how good it sounds.

You decide to knock a couple times, your eyes lock in the sight of the door that feels smooth at the touch. Your mind still working on extra hours but you're happy to see them.

Minho open the door and a smile on his face makes you feel all in love again, the atmosphere feels warm and welcoming, as if the earlier tension never existed. Jisung greets you with a tight hug, practically lifting you off the ground. “Finally!” he exclaims. “I was starting to think you’d forgotten about us.”

Minho rolls his eyes, tugging you inside. “Ignore him. He’s been dramatic all day.”

“Dramatic? Me?” Jisung feigns offense, but his grin gives him away. You settle onto the couch, sandwiched between the two of them. Minho hands you a blanket while Jisung starts flipping through movie options. “I picked a good one,” Jisung says, showing you the title on the screen.

"Wasn't.. Minho's choice this time?" You asks.

Minho glances at him and then he groans. “You call that a good choice? No way. We’re watching something else.”

You laugh at their bickering, the last remnants of your doubt fading away. For the first time in days, you feel completely at ease. As the movie starts, Jisung grabs a bowl of popcorn and places it in your lap, leaning against your side. Minho rests his arm along the back of the couch, his presence steady and comforting.

“Are you enjoying?” Jisung’s voice reach your ears, you turn to his direction and nods.

Minho's hand moves between your hair, massaging your scalp in a gentle manner making you even more relaxed, "let us take care of you tonight, okay princess?"

Your cheeks that are getting warmer and warmer, but you nod again because you feel like being between the two men that stole your heart it's the safest spot in the world.

Your body feel relaxed and your mind it’s getting blurry. Is this really working on you? you can just feel Jisung's hand finishing on your thigh, squeezing your skin lightly almost to wake you up from your flow of thoughts. “y/n you're so soft.”

His voice is a confused slur, feeling the blood in his veins warm at your presence right among them; he can feel his cock twitch in his pants. Minho grunts nodding, totally agreeing with his boyfriend, "Hyung told me what he did in the car the first date, I'm jealous.”

Your cheeks grows red and you chuckle, opening lightly one eye to look at Jisung's pouty expression, “’m sorry baby.. he was really convincing.” A muffled moan comes from Jisung’s throat as he puts his head against your chest, “he told me everything.. how tight you were, how wet you felt. are you wet now baby? for us?” He’s losing is control for your soft voice, he can imagine vividly the feeling of your skin in his hands; he’s craving to have a single taste of you. 

“do you wanna be pretty for us princess?”  Minho talks, his breath it’s right against your skin, you can almost feel his lips against the nape of your earlobe. You gently nods: your mind already going blank.

You gives them the permission, and then it takes them two seconds before taking you to their bedroom. Your back hits the mattress with a giggle, making them smile for how cute you look in your soft dress. Minho's hand travel from your ankle to your thigh, spreading your thighs a little.

"Can you take it off?" You asks mumbly, and the younger moves his hands carefully to take down the knots on the shoulders, the dress already on the floor and you’re half naked under their hungry eyes. 

Jisung bend over to kiss your shoulder, his delicate fingers moves the shoulder pads down, letting you breathless. Minho caress your legs, from the ankles to your inner thighs again. “so fuckin pretty now.” His fingers are pressing against your flesh, making you shivers and arch your back, and they are just starting it.

“please,” you murmurs as you squeeze your thighs together, going totally against what Minho wants, he grab your knees and he spread them wide again, “if you want to, keep this pretty legs open.” 

Jisung kiss your neck, his gently pecks are full of passion, you are feeling over the edge, your head moves backward against the pillows. Jisung’s tongue trace your skin, making you whimper under them two, Minho chuckles grabbing gently your hand, kissing softly your wrist.

The younger moves feeling a rush of pleasure that he needs to relieve, their clothes are feeling too tight for the whole tension, Jisung moves between your thighs his hands massaging your flesh as he lean his soft cheek on your inner thigh as his eyes are locked on your soaking wet panties. “so wet, I wanna taste it.”

Minho moves his smooth hands on your back, unclasping the bra and letting your tits free making their mouth watering, “God, ’m getting impatient.” Your chuckles just makes them whimpering, their hands explode your body, desiring and possessing it.

They are showing you with so much love how much you mean to them, not caring if you're are a fan, but because you're their lover and they are going down on you with delicate touches filled with pervious desires.

You gasp so loud that makes them shivers when Jisung’s tongue get in touch with your panties, you can feel yourself getting even wetter for the light touch, he’s getting over the edge and it’s not even close to getting in your pussy. 

Minho’s eyes are half closed for the sight their actions, he moves the panties aside letting Jisung finally taste your wet folds. Jisung’s eyes almost roll back completely for the taste of your nectar, his tongue licks and grind against your slit making you shake and moan. The music mix of your moans of pleasure it’s the best thing that Minho have ever heard. Jisung is impatient, every licks and every moves of his tongue on your folds makes his nose hits your clit enough to make you arch your back. “o-oh god!” 

Minho bend over, his tongue pass over your nipple, his other hand massage the other breast, palpating briskly as his teeth nibble the already hardened nipple. Your hands between their hair as they workship your body with need.

Jisung eats you out like a starving man, like he never touched a pussy before, his hands as squeezing, stroking, caressing your thighs and ass. Your legs on his shoulders and his face buries in your cunt, that’s the best feeling that you ever felt before. 

And you’re not a virgin. 

The overstimulation that Minho is giving to your sensitive nipples is making you almost cum, “’m so close, i.. I have to — ugh, cum!” Your voice it’s so pitch high, your legs shakes around the younger’s head and your hands are traveling down Minho’s lap with the intention of giving him the same pleasure that you are feeling.

“not yet, wait, please,” jisung’s voice mumbles as he flicks his tongue over and over against your entrance, making your toes curl in pleasure. Minho move one of his hand on jisung’s hair, pushing him close to your pussy making him whimper for dominance. Your hand touches lightly Minho’s lap, making the oldest groan against your tits, you can’t stop your orgasm to hit you with pleasure. 

You’re breathless, jisung laps your folds again before breaking the contact with a moan, his face it’s the expression of the pleasure that he just felt, maybe even more than you did. Minho grab the back of his neck, kissing him roughly, he desire to feel you against his lips more than anything else, Jisung close his eyes as he kiss minho back, their tongues curls to each other making the kiss even wetter now. 

Minho moves his hand on jisung’s pants, unbuttoning his jeans and letting the younger with just his boxers, you gasp at the sight of the view, making your way on minho’s pants, to do the exact same thing. 

When you find yourself kissing one of the two men as the other one kiss your neck, marking you and biting your skin, to make sure that the next morning you’re gonna remember every single action of this. Because you want to remember this, and they want it too. 

“look at you, so wet,” Minho whispers in your ear as he spread your thighs, Jisung moves behind you as he keep kissing you, he’s such a messy kisser. You can feel minho’s hard length pressing against your folds, you break the kiss with the guy behind you to look at the oldest, “m-minho please.. I need you..”

His chuckles fill your lungs as Jisung move his hand around your neck, squeezing it lightly just to make pressure around it, “only him? I feel jealous,” Jisung whispers in your other ear, breathing deeply as his hips grind against your ass, making you back arch to the feeling of both of them, so tempt to enter in you, to make you feel good. 

“mhm, she’s gonna have us both right? right baby?”

His words makes you even wetter now, jisung and Minho connect their lips once again as you gasp and moan louder to feel minho’s cock pushing himself inside your pussy. “feel so good,” the oldest whimper and moan against jisung’s lips, the other guy hold the back of his head with his hand. 

"y-yes.. yes both.." You arch your back against jisung’s chest, and you can feel jisung’s cock pressing against your slit already stretch out where minho keep thrusting in you without stopping.

His stamina will drive you crazy.

“Jisung, give it to me, please,” you beg the younger as you grind your hips back and forth on them, Minho is just pushing himself, you can feel everything, you can feel the muscles contract; their cocks grinding against each other inside you and that makes you scream for pleasure. Having both of inside you right now is the best thing that you ever felt.

They move together, with the best synchronization that just them two could have, you’re between them as they hold your hips and thighs, minho kiss you as jisung bites your shoulder, “it’s fucking good, this.. a-ah! amazing..” 

“perfect pussy, oh baby your pussy is amazing,” Jisung groan in your ear as your back, breathing heavily as you can just be there, feeling the best sex in your life because of your boyfriends. You open your mouth for breath and the guy is behind you grab your chin, turning your face to him and he collect saliva in his mouth and then spits on yours, that feels almost too much good to be true.

Their cum exploding in your cunt, filling you up at the same time as they moan loudly, the overstimulation makes you squirm and shakes all over her body. Your juices is mix with theirs now, running down your thighs as you slowly move away from their bodies, too sore to talk; to sore to actually be able to face them. 

“you are, quite something,” Minho chuckles breathless, as he moves beside Jisung, his head falls on your shoulder, grabbing gently your hand.

Your eyes are falling down, “you guys.. tired me so much.”

For a moment the three of you find yourselves curled up together in the soft glow of their bedroom. You guys cleaned up each other and dressed up again, but finishing to crash back in the clean sheets - that Minho carefully took off and change. The intimacy of the day—both physical and emotional—leaves you feeling vulnerable yet cherished. Jisung notices your quiet demeanor and brushes a hand gently over your arm. “Hey, you okay?” he asks, his voice laced with concern.

You nod, offering him a small smile. “Yeah. Just… thinking.”

Minho shifts closer, his hand finding yours. “About?”

“How lucky I am to have you two,” you admit softly. “And how much you take care of me.”

Minho’s lips quirk into a small smile, and he squeezes your hand. “You take care of us, too. It goes both ways, you know.”

Jisung leans his head on your shoulder, his playful tone softened by sincerity. “We’re a team, y/n. And you’re the most important part of it.”

Minho rises briefly and returns with a glass of water and a cool cloth. “Here,” he says, pressing the cloth lightly to your forehead and cheeks. “You need to hydrate. You’ve had a long day.”

Jisung chuckles, grabbing a spare blanket and wrapping it snugly around you. “Minho’s in mom mode. Better let him do his thing.”

You laugh, feeling warmth spread through you—not just from the blanket but from their care and attention. “Thank you. Both of you.”

Minho brushes a strand of hair from your face, his gaze steady and affectionate. “Always. You’re ours to take care of, just like we’re yours.”

Jisung grins, planting a soft kiss on your temple. “Now, let’s relax. We’ve got all night.”

[broidobe]

𝔱𝔥𝔢 𝔰𝔦𝔩𝔢𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔞𝔣𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔲𝔰

requested! this is a sequel to "the silence between us" so please read that first!

⁎⁺˳✧༚the silence between us

⁎⁺˳✧༚guns and roses masterlist

months had passed since that morning at the diner, but the weight of those final words lingered, heavy and unrelenting. life didn’t stop, though. the world outside moved on, indifferent to the pieces of your heart that axl’s temper had shattered. you’d left the city, settling in a quieter place where the nights didn’t hum with the sound of his voice echoing from crowded venues.

but even here, in this borrowed stillness, memories of him found you. it was in the songs on the radio, in the way the rain drummed against the roof, in the dreams that never quite faded upon waking. axl’s face was a ghost haunting the spaces between the mundane moments of your days.

you told yourself you were healing. maybe you even believed it sometimes.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

axl’s world had changed, too. the band was busier than ever, their shows selling out night after night. but fame didn’t erase the ache of loss. if anything, it amplified it. he buried himself in the music, in late-night sessions with his guitar, in lyrics scrawled on napkins and crumpled pieces of paper.

even so, he felt you everywhere. in the crowd’s faces when they screamed his name. in the empty hotel rooms after every show. in the way his bandmates stopped asking about you but still cast him worried glances when he’d retreat into himself. axl rose was larger than life to the world, but in the quiet of his own mind, he was just a man with too many regrets.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

it happened by accident, as these things often do. you hadn’t meant to be at the same venue where axl’s band was playing. a friend had dragged you to see the opening act, swearing up and down that they were the next big thing. you’d tried to leave before the main set, but the crush of the crowd had kept you pinned in place.

and then he was there. axl, stepping onto the stage, larger than life and painfully familiar. your breath caught as the spotlight hit him, and for a moment, you thought he saw you. but his eyes swept over the crowd, distant and unreadable.

you tried to leave again, but your feet wouldn’t move. his voice filled the room, raw and unyielding, and it was like no time had passed at all. the songs were the same—fierce, unapologetic—but there was something else now, a sadness woven through the notes. it was unmistakable, and it felt like he was bleeding out every unspoken word between you with each verse.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

against your better judgment, you waited outside the venue. the night air was cold, biting through your jacket, but you couldn’t leave. not yet.

when axl finally emerged, flanked by security, his eyes found yours instantly. he stopped, his expression shifting from shock to something softer, something fragile.

he waved off his entourage and walked toward you, his steps hesitant. “you’re here,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“so are you,” you replied, trying to keep your tone steady.

he laughed, a short, humorless sound. “i didn’t think i’d see you again.”

“neither did i.”

you stood there, the silence between you filled with all the things you wanted to say but couldn’t. finally, axl spoke.

“i’ve… i’ve been trying to be better. i don’t know if i’ll ever be good enough, but i had to tell you.”

tears pricked at your eyes again, but you blinked them away. “i know you’re trying, axl. but we… we can’t go back to what we were.”

his face fell, but he nodded. “i know. i just… i needed you to know i’m sorry.”

“i know,” you said softly. “and maybe someday, we’ll find our way back to something. but for now… take care of yourself, okay?”

he smiled faintly, the sadness in his eyes still there but tempered by acceptance. “you too.”

as you walked away, you felt lighter somehow. the pain wasn’t gone, but it was quieter now, like a wound finally beginning to heal.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

you didn’t turn back, but for the first time in months, you allowed yourself to smile. life would go on, and so would you both—separately, but with the echoes of what you’d shared lingering in the spaces between your steps.

[write-here-n-now]

What to do when you've crossed a line?

C.(S). Jeonghan x Reader | WC. 1031 | G. Angst| Pt. 5/? | *Jeonghan's POV*

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

“Wait Y/N!”

He watches you run away. He couldn’t let you get away for a second time.

His feet are stuck once again to the floor of campus hallway, everyone staring at him, as he stands unmoving and staring at your receding figure.

It’s not until Seungcheol literally slaps his back that he snaps out of the trance of tracking your disappearance.

“GO! What are you waiting for?”

His brain finally decides to comprehend the situation and instead of shutting down, his feet get the memo to follow your steps, picking up the pace as he races down the hall.

He reaches outside and sees you in the distance getting onto the local bus—well timed for your getaway.

He has a clue as to where you might be heading so he turns around to go find Seungcheol again, he had to catch up to you and he couldn’t afford to make the same mistake a third time.

He finds Seungcheol in the same hallway talking to some people, but he lifts his head to see Jeonghan fast approaching him.

“Did you chicken out again?” Seungcheol, despite only being a few months older always had a way to make Jeonghan feel like he was being scolded by a parent.

“I need your keys!”

“What?”

Jeonghan, in a clear immediate rush, starts to pat down Seungcheol trying to locate the keys to the car.

“Hold on hold on, stop frisking me!” Seungcheol swats away Jeonghan’s hands.

Reaching into the front right pocket of his jeans, he pulls out the keys but before he can even begin to offer them, Jeonghan’s hand snatches them out of his hand and dashes, without Seungcheol even able to fully comprehend the scene.

“AT LEAST SAY ‘THANK YOU’!” Seungcheol shouts after the already long-gone Jeonghan.

He doesn’t think he’s ever run so fast in his life; he knows his destination is too far otherwise he may have just run after the bus you were currently seated in.

It takes him a bit to locate the whereabouts of Seungcheol’s car, running down the aisles to locate the familiar silver hood of his friend’s car, finally choosing to click the automatic lock button before hearing its beeps coming from his far-left side.

There is a rush in every action, fumbling with the seatbelt as he enters the driver’s seat and reverses at record speed. If he was even a little bit of a bad driver, the way in which he had reversed surely would have dinged a few cars, but muscle memory was hard to let go, even in a rush.

Speeding out of the parking lot, his patience wears thin at the sheer amount of stop signs littered to simply get off the campus grounds, but he can’t risk being ticketed just because he can’t wait a few seconds.

He has a clear image of his destination, a route he knows by heart—praying he gets to you as quickly as humanly possible.

Drumming his fingers on top of the steering wheel, he waits for the main road signal to change colours, the jittering inside his body can’t seem to rest even for a moment, the idea of sprinting to you still lingering in his mind.

Luckily the light changes before he can bolt out of the car.

He needed a distraction, something to take his mind off how long it was taking to get to his destination. Turning the dial of the volume, the radio turns on and he adjusts the radio dial until it reaches the preferred station.

“This next song is a beloved, blah blah blah”

He pays no mind to the DJ’s explanation, busy trying to turn his brain away from the anxiety of missing his chance to explain himself to you and the fear of not getting to you as soon as possible.

The dialogue is a blur, but he feels his stomach flutter as he hears the familiar tune of the guitar, your favourite song.

“Wise men say…”

“Only fools rush in…”

“But I can’t help”

“Falling in love with you…”

--------

“Jeonghan come on, let me play a song”

“I’m driving so I get to choose”

“Please please please please please please please”

His eyes roll at your consistency, unable to deny your demands as your lips turn into a pout and eyes widen like a puppy.

“...fine.”

You waste no time connecting your phone and starting your favourite song.

The stereo plays out a familiar guitar strumming before Elvis’ deep voice sounds through the speakers.

“WISE MEN SAY~”

You couldn’t contain yourself whenever the song played, eager to immerse yourself in the feeling of being in love and giddiness that the smooth love song filled in your stomach.

Turning your body, you sing to Jeonghan, giggling when he looks forward uninterested in your antics and ignoring your private concert.

When you sing louder, he attempts to stick his hand over your mouth but you’re quicker and dodge, turning away from him laughing out loud, eyes closed, attempting to compose yourself enough to continue the sing-along.

The car comes to a halt at a red light as you reach the bridge. Singing your heart out, you use Jeonghan’s right arm and hand as a microphone, moving it along serenading the surrounding traffic audience.

Turning his head, he feels that darn tug. He couldn’t help the grin that carved itself onto his lips.  

He thinks that life couldn’t be any better, listening to you belt your favourite love song as if nothing mattered more, and nothing did.

The honk from a behind , snaps him out of his daydream. Turning his attention back to the road and you finish off the song with some personal adlibs.

--------

“..For I…can’t help”

“Falling in love with you…”

He looks ahead, his heart fluttering at the familiar memory but how he wishes you were here next to him, singing the song.

He shakes his head ridding the memory, trying to focus on the road ahead and the path to his destination. He turns off the radio letting the silence consume the car, he can’t dwell further on what he should’ve done before, only on what he had to do now.

TAG LIST: @jjeongddol

[writerfae]

Christmas movie au Advent Calendar 🎄

Day Twenty-One: (☃️)Snow globe(☃️)

Christmas special tag list: @bunnymermaidsblog @deadlycupid @dustylovelyrun @ladywithalamp @sleepy-night-child @theguywithnonickname

After dinner, they sat cuddled up on the couch.

Aiden made himself a home in between Talon’s legs, head leaning against his chest and Talon’s arms securely wrapped around him.

Talon wouldn’t mind staying like this forever, freezing this moment in to put it in a snow globe and hold on to it forever.

It felt an awful lot like the calm before a storm and he pulled Aiden even closer to himself.

“What was Christmas like for you? Before your family stopped celebrating, I mean?” Aiden asked and Talon froze for a second.

“You don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to talk about it,” he added quietly, fingers drawing patterns near Talon’s collarbone as if to soothe him.

“No, I want to.” Talon gulped. “It’s just… it’s been so long…”

Yet he remembered it vividly, he just hadn’t allowed himself to think about it.

“When I was younger, Christmas was my highlight of the year. We usually spent it at my uncle Kieran’s house, because it was big enough to host such an event. And it really was an event. Most of my family was there, as well as my uncle’s friends.

There was a huge Christmas tree in the main hall and decoration everywhere and the largest table I had ever seen, filled with so much food us children thought it could feed a whole village.”

He chuckled.

“Uncle Kieran always hosted nice Christmas parties like this with music and buffet and a present exchange. It was a sight to behold and everyone had so much fun. I think you would’ve liked it. It was like in one of those Christmas movies.”

Talon’s hand found its way in Aiden’s hair as he kept talking.

“But what I always liked best was Christmas Eve before it, where it was just my parents, my sister, Kieran and me.

My mom would’ve prepared dinner and even got dad to help her with it and my uncle played with us children. He taught me a new Christmas song to play on either the violin or the guitar each year.”

He smiled fondly, lost in the memories. He had almost forgotten how he had loved the holiday.

“My sister and me had to play something on the instrument before we got our presents - my family was very traditional when it came to things like this. And then we got our presents.

My uncle always got me the things my dad would never have bought for me, no matter how much I begged him. Stuff like video games or action figures.

One year he gifted me a violin, way too valuable for a child my age, but he said that a professional needed a professional instrument.”

Talon’s father had been skeptical if this was a good present for a five year old, but Kieran had insisted.

He had his first own violin when he was even younger, he claimed.

“Talent needs to be supported,” he said, laying his hand on Talon’s head. “And Talon has plenty of talent.”

Talon wanted to be a musician back then, but that childhood dream had died with his uncle, probably even before.

After all, he’d inherit a family business.

“That sounds nice,” Aiden whispered, as if afraid that him speaking any louder would scare Talon away.

Talon nodded.

“He was. And with his present came a Christmas card. He wrote one for me every year, addressing it to “his favorite nephew”, until the very last Christmas we shared together before he…”

He fell silent.

“I still have all of them, in my apartment somewhere. I couldn’t bring myself to leave them behind when I moved out. It was always our little tradition.”

He hadn’t even noticed the single tear running down his cheek before Aiden shifted in his lap and leaned up to kiss it away.

“You must’ve really loved him. I’m sorry,” he cupped Talon’s cheek with a hand.

Talon leaned into it, closing his eyes.

“I did.” He opened them again to look at Aiden. “Thank you.”

His voice was barely about a whisper but they were so close Aiden understood it nonetheless.

He kissed him then.

Because he wanted to and Aiden was right here, in front of him, and life was too short to miss out on even the smallest chances he got to do it.

After a while, Aiden pulled away, taking Talon’s face in both of his hands and Talon almost started to tear up again just at the gentleness of this gesture.

“Your uncle and the Christmases you shared with him sound really great. I’m sorry that you lost all that. But I hope you’ll at least find your joy in Christmas again. I think your uncle would want it, too.”

He was probably right with that.

For so many years Talon had been busy pushing away all the negative feelings regarding his uncle and Christmas, that he didn’t notice that it kept out all the good feelings and memories he had, too.

All it took for him to achieve this clarity was to be sent into this little Christmas-loving town of all places.

That and the person in front of him.

Aiden had given him so much. He deserved to know the truth. Despite that knowledge weighing down on him, he smiled, putting his hands over Aiden’s.

“I did find it. Thanks to you.”

Aiden let go of Talon and leaned back, just looking at Talon.

“I’m glad,” he said then and smiled.

Shortly after, Aiden excused himself to go get them something to drink and Talon was left alone in the warm living room of Aiden’s house.

It was already cozy to begin with, but the Christmas decorations that were added recently gave the room a whole different charm.

Talon found it comfortable here, there was a feeling of warmth and safety in the air.

Like a magical aura surrounding the room.

Talon let his eyes wander through the room, taking it all in.

This here: this room, this house, the farm… Talon promised himself to find a way to protect it, no matter the prize he had to pay.

His gaze got stuck on something that sat on the mantelpiece of the huge fireplace, something he hadn’t noticed before.

He stood up to get to look at it from up closer.

It was a snow globe, he realized as he stood in front of the fireplace.

A very pretty snow globe, big and heavy enough that he needed both of his hands to be able to properly hold it.

Inside the snow globe was a little scenery:

Snow covering the floor and dusting the four Christmas trees in the background and before it a prettily decorated carriage loaded with a bag of presents, drawn by a single white horse and with no one less than Santa himself holding the reigns.

Next to Santa, a little girl with black curls sat in the carriage. Maybe she was supposed to be an elf or an angel, from the look of her it could’ve been both.

The pedestal the globe stood on was red with little handmade decorations in gold and green drawn on it. In the middle of it stood a name:

Ranva.

It was a pretty sight and as he slowly turned the little clockwork key on the back, gentle glistening snow was swirling around the globe.

He smiled to himself, carefully setting the snow globe down again.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” Aiden’s voice asked close to his ear and Talon was glad he had put the snow globe down already, otherwise he would’ve most likely dropped it.

“Yes, very.” He turned to look at Aiden, who stood next to him, eying the snow globe fondly.

“It was my mother’s,” he said, reaching out and gently swiping his finger over the engraved name on the pedestal.

“She got it as a gift from her parents when she was little, cause the girl looked like her. It was one of the few things she took with her as she came here.”

He smiled.

“It was kind of our tradition, you know? Each year for Christmas she put the snow globe on the mantelpiece.

And each year on Christmas Eve she took it from its rightful place, sat down on the couch with it and let my brother and me cuddle up to her, telling us the story about a girl and how she got to help out Santa.“

A chuckle escaped his lips.

“It was the only time we were allowed to hold it, otherwise it had to remain where it was. My mom wasn’t really a strict mother but she took this one rule very serious.”

He sighed.

“The first two or so year after her death, we couldn’t put the snow globe up for Christmas, because father would freak out about it.

I put it in my room, once, because it made me feel like she was with us for Christmas, you know? But dad saw it and had a mental breakdown. I didn’t dare to put it back up ever since.”

“I’m sorry about that,” Talon said, grabbing Aiden’s hand.

Aiden squeezed their joined hands lightly, then he let go and used it to brush away the tears gathering in his eyes.

“It’s okay. The years after her death have been hard, but he’s better now. Now when he looks at it, he’s smiling, not crying. We have it up for the fifth year in a row this Christmas.”

“That’s nice.” Aiden smiled sadly. “It is…” He looked away.

“What is it?” Talon asked, making Aiden look at him. “What’s wrong?”

Aiden sighed, closing his eyes.

“I was just thinking about how this will probably be our last Christmas here.”

He opened his eyes to look at Talon and for the first time since they knew each other Talon wished those eyes wouldn’t look at him so directly, so he didn’t have to see the sadness in them.

And so that Aiden couldn’t see the guilt in his.

“What are you talking about?”

Stop lying, Talon scolded himself. You know exactly what he is talking about. You need to tell him.

“It’s senseless to keep up hope. We won’t be able to get enough money to save the farm, so we have to take the offer of these people.

Mr. Hawkins made a good offer, it will be enough to start a comfortable life someplace new but… it kills me to think about losing the farm. Not just not living or working here anymore, but it just being… gone.

Thinking about some stupid hotel or mall or whatever it is that they want to build here and that this town doesn’t need standing in its stead. Generations of family history lost…

I don’t want to be the one of my family who failed. I don’t want to be the reason father loses his whole legacy. Our legacy.”

His grip on Talon grew more desperate with every word and Talon’s heart broke at the same time as Aiden’s voice.

“He barely survived losing mom.”

Tears threatened to fall, but Aiden didn’t cry again. Didn’t allow himself too, probably.

Too strong for it.

Too proud.

“I don’t want him to lose the place that he made his home with her, too.”

Tell him, his mind screamed. You need to tell him.

Talon wasn’t as strong as Aiden, he did start to cry, silent tears falling from his face without his consent.

This was it then, the final moment. The one that would ruin everything.

But he couldn’t keep going like this, lying to Aiden about it all.

It would be selfish, dishonest, disrespectful.

It would be no basis for a relationship.

“I’m sorry, Aiden,” he said, grief tying up his throat. “I’m so so sorry.”

His reaction surprised Aiden so much that he let go of him.

“What’s wrong?”

Concern showed in his eyes, concern for Talon, even though it was Aiden who had all the worries.

And Talon was just about to cause him even more.

He didn’t deserve Aiden’s concern.

“Aiden, I-“ Talon took a deep breath.

“There’s something I need to tell you.”

[greenlightbulbonawire]

Misfits (yeah like the Arcane song) LV.

______________________________________________________________

Summary: From the dark musty cell of Stillwater all the way to the very base of Firelights, but where to from there? Guess you'll just have to let fate lead you.

Author's note: Another saturday, another chapter. Just a reminder that this is the day when I usually post. For this chapter, I wanted to include a little short animation that's posted on the instagram "playwildrift" cuz it was just too cute not to!! anyway, this ones a little weaker but what can you do. Also happy holidays to anyone reading this, hope yall have a great time!!

previous chapter: /

next chapter: -

masterlist

______________________________________________________________

Some time passed and still the events of that one night gnawed at you in the back of your mind. It felt weird, for lack of a better word, but not in a bad way. Even though you meant to just get drunk with the boy, like you did a few times before, and try to pull the truth out of him, you felt like what actually happened was even better. The desire to sneak into the kitchen again and bother Lyra with your feelings and what not, you felt like telling her about what happened that night would be invading Ekko’s privacy and that just felt wrong. And so you kept yourself occupied with the only free thing you could do. Well, actually it wasn’t just a few things. You spend time with Fae, strengthening your bond with her and getting her more comfortable in the cage you built for her, because Ekko definitely didn’t do ninety percent of the work.

But you also made sure to be of use to the Firelights, joining various missions, although you did notice a running theme in them. As you saw it, all of the missions you went on, alone or not, involved minimal fighting and mostly just focused on either gathering information, collecting things for the base or taking part in the lookout group. You were almost starting to think that Ekko was keeping you away from the fight on purpose, but who knows. But you weren’t doing only that all the time. So if you weren’t on a mission and couldn’t be found with Fae either, then you were helping in the kitchen and listening to Lyra rand to you about whatever was on their mind, or you were playing with the kids.

One day, Heimerdinger set his mind on making some sort of a gadget, no one except him had the slightest idea what it was even supposed to be, and no one could pry him away from his desk.To be perfectly honest, all of his creations seemed extremely random too. You were here for the whole thing and watched the professor successfully blow up multiple creations with the kids at your side, in your lap, or sitting on your shoulders doing the same as you, all of you sitting on some wooden stairs nearby. Here and there someone hid behind you as another machine exploded and you could do nothing but chuckle at it. Ekko stopped by, exchanging a few words with you and the kids, before he settled down with another group of youngsters on a pile of boxes nearby and the kids gave you teaseful looks.

By the afternoon, Heimerdinger had brought a table and a chair into the open and his unsuccessful creations piled atop of each other next to the table. Finally, Heimerdinger came with another one of his gadgets and set it down onto the ground. The kids walked over to it and Scar’s eldest daughter, Vesp, grabbed your hand, making you come with them. A few of the braver or more curious children started to mess with it, turning the creation on. Ekko was now by the professor's side as Heimerdinger leaned back in his chair, his legs on the table. The machine started to shake and make weird noises. You instinctively put your hand in front of the kids, fully expecting another loud noise followed by a small fire and bits of the gadget flying in various directions while you gave Ekko a worried look. (little note: Vesp comes from vespertilio, which is latin for bat :P)

But much to your and everyone's surprise, after a few moments of nothing happening, which you previously interpreted as the quiet before the storm, the professors creation, oddly too similar looking to a species of little fluffy animals you saw in the undercity here and there, the creatures horns opened and bubbles flew out of while it started to move around. You relaxed and lowered your hands as the kids ran with the machine. “I like your style, professor.” Ekkos voice fell into the background as the kids giggled and shouted at each other, running around as the bubbles filled the air. Vesp was still holding your hand so you had no choice but to join the kids in their shenanigans. But nonetheless you did register Ekkos words, and you couldn’t help but smile at them a little and shake your hand and when you looked back at him, he was smiling back at you. Or more likely, at the whole scene.

Not only was it a great workout to run around with them, but you felt like you were a kid yourself in that moment, which was a rare occasion since in your mind, you stopped being a kid the moment your parents sent you to work for Silco. From time to time, one of the children would ask you to carry them on your shoulders or for you to spin them around for god knows what reason, but it was fun and you were strong enough for it to be easy to do so, therefore there was no reason for you to say no. Finally released from your torture, you made your way over to the wooden stairs with red top again and sat down, trying to make it seem like you weren’t desperately catching your breath at all. Heimerdinger came to join you at your side and Ekko flew off to god knows where. “You seem to have an easy time bonding with the children, that’s a great skill to have.” You chuckled at his words and shook your head in disagreement, although his choice of words, making a normal conversation seem so philosophical and professional could never not amuse you. “I wouldn’t say it like that, but yeah, I guess I’m just fun to be around.”

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

Blowing Smoke

A Jegulus song lyric one shot. I'm trying a new layout so lmk what you think! Guys this actually came to me like a fever dream.

wc: 1042 // @jegulus-microfic

Regulus isn't stupid. He sees it, all of it. He sees how she looks at James and how James looks back at her. It wasn't enough for him to have Regulus because you always chase the things you only get a taste of. This too, Regulus knows all too well. He stays hidden in the astronomy tower, behind tapestries, and alcoves in the dark. She can be loved out loud, in the common room, in the great hall, in the daylight. Today is the end day. Regulus plays the part of executioner and guilty both. He knows that to love something is to lose it too. That does not make this easier. 

James crashes through the door of the tower, rumpled and blushing. He was always loud, always the centre of attention. His eyes land on Regulus, and just for a second, Regulus stills. He can't keep this, but god, how he wants to. Maybe he never even had it, but there's something there, just not worth playing second for. James carries that boyish smile, the one reserved only for Regulus, but it's too late. A sacrifice is only a sacrifice once the blood is drawn. 

"Tell me, is she prettier than she was on the internet?" Regulus' face shifts into indifference. No preamble, no games. He is still a Black at the end of the day. 

"Reg, what are you talking about?" James shifts uncomfortably. He knew this was coming. Not this soon though, he pleads, not right now. 

"Are your conversations cool, like are you even interested?" Regulus stands, leaning against the railing of the tower. His arms sit crossed over his chest, less to be intimidating, and more to keep his heart where it should be. His tone is light, conversational almost. 

"This is about Lily." James' voice is toneless, his eyes immediately dull. Not now. Not now. 

"Who else, James, who else?" 

In any other scenario, you just might have been able to convince Regulus he was wrong, that James was just trying to protect them both. Maybe he would've believed that a year of hiding was worth it, that kissing in cupboards and avoiding eye contact in the dinner hall was just the way it should be. But Regulus will not be an object of shame outside of his home, he won't drag that ignominy behind him when he doesn't have to. 

"She's my friend." His eyes narrow. "I'm not going to avoid her just because she makes you insecure." James isn't an argumentative person. In fact, he's a talker, a placater, and so he can't quite figure out why defending Lily comes to him so easily. 

"I know what you are, brighter than the stars." Now Regulus' voice is pure mockery, just so he can see how far James flinches. "Did you mean that then?"

"That was a private conversation. Who even told you about that?"

"I don't think me finding out is the issue here."

"She was upset, she's got so much going-"

"And me, James? How much have I got going on?" Now Regulus promised himself to stay put together, but this, this is his frailty. Too emotional, too expressive when it counts the least. "I'm your dirty little secret because Sirius wouldn't be able to handle sharing. I'm one wrong step away from my parents beating me half to death. So tell me." 

"No."

"Tell me what the fuck is so awful in her life you just had to recycle the same line you used on me?"

James is quiet, chest heaving. He can feel curls sticking to the nape of his neck from sweat. How could he choose? How could Regulus make him. The silence was crackling like it was electrified. A blush crept up Regulus' cheeks. He looked younger in that moment, and something tugs at James' chest, but a callow face does not mean weakness. 

"Tell me if she takes you far." And James knows exactly what Regulus means. Even through his derisive tone, Regulus had something that kept James grounded, something that kept him tethered. And he hates it. 

"Far away from you." James is angry now, but he can't quite tell who it's at. "Far enough away from all the baggage you've been carrying." His head is a mess, and the only person who could help won't. Who the fuck does Regulus think he is? What the fuck has he done?

"My baggage? Oh, you're funny, Potter. Go on, run away again." Regulus' tone is harsh, derisive. "Up another hill to all the girls who'll help you bury it."

"Oh, fuck off Regulus. Back to surnames? Really? Can't we just talk?"

"About what? The lying? The running? The hiding? No, we can't fucking talk. Grow up."

"Baby Black, so insecure, so naive." James' words are trite to Regulus. "And the girls? What fucking girls? How could I when you're always just behind me?"

"Apparently that still didn't stop you." A flicker of hurt runs through Regulus, but he tamps it down. 

"You know nothing about me. You don't understand. I have a reputation. Everyone thinks I'm single, and Lily's just there. What do you want me to do when I'm constantly pushed in her way?" James is bright red and the air is cloying. His head is buzzing, and he just wants it to stop. "Everyone expects me to be put together, to get the girl, to be cool and funny, and attractive. I thought you'd get it."

"They're just blowing smoke," Regulus smiles, except it's not a smile at all. "I'll say what they won't." It's a realisation. Regulus knows that despite everything, despite being James' dirty little secret, he still has one thing James doesn't. 

James told Regulus the truth, everything. Every false laugh. Every tired smile. Every sleepless night. 

And James knows it too. 

"Reg, wait. Stop. Please." His hand reaches for Regulus, but he just misses, brushing the cuff of his jumper. 

"I know everything they don't." Regulus' footsteps echo all the way down the stairs. 

And for the first time in his life, James feels something bubbling up in his chest. A subtle burning that felt like agony. 

For the first time in his life, James Potter couldn't have the thing he wanted most.

[mourningliliesmorningglories]

Oh this is so Vienna coded. Oh I am thinking so many thoughts.

People Sirius Black did not get enough time with:

James Potter (10 years)

Harry Potter (2 years)

Remus Lupin (13 years)

Regulus Black (10 (good) years)

Fleamont and Euphemia Potter (7 years)

[azariah-z-fell]

Crowley : ready for it

To

Aziraphale : wildest dreams

[hello-galad]

Cid has a battered old radio in his workshop. It catches a frequency that plays old songs, sometimes nostalgic for couples dancing to the rhythm of soft blues, other times all it plays is rock music and Cid hums the lyrics absentmindedly.

Sometimes Cid can hear soft humming coming from somewhere above him, as silent as the turning of pages. Vincent likes to read, perched most of the time on one of the crates or the wing of one of the planes. Sometimes a rafter, others a chair next to Cid’s as the engineer goes over blueprints and equations.

That day the radio station plays a soft but rhythmic melody that Cid will be the first to admit he doesn’t know how to dance to, but he doesn’t really care as he reaches out to Vincent with an extended hand in invitation. Vincent, who had been watching him swing around the workshop, a feeling of peace and happiness in that smile that carefully keeps the cigarette Cid is smoking in place, accepts Cid’s extended hand. Without warning he is lifted from the chair, twirled around and back in the blonde’s arms.

The song ends and is followed by a softer one that Vincent recognizes from back when he was still a Turk for ShinRa.

They sway together to the voice of the singer who reminds her love that she’s forever theirs.

[pepperpixel]

“And it’s! Clean out the bank and, bump off your daddy,

You can come live with us amidst the has-beens and the addicts!

These are crazy times down at Costello music!

You can answer the phone and talk any way you choose it, come on!”

More Betty and Magic Man! And… I maybe should wait to post these as part of a photoset cuz… I do still have more wip stuff of them but… I spent all of today coloring these chibis I wanna upload them ghgh-