#i did this instead of studying and i have nothing to say in my defense... okay maybe just that i was bored

[vicompte-de-latarteaucoing]

Just a few edited vignettes from The Last Swordfish, don't mind me...

[hoshinasblade]

imagine trying out the makeup products you just bought on your boyfriend, vice-captain hoshina soshiro.

it's a lazy sunday afternoon, and although his whole life all hoshina had wanted is to be a great anti-kaiju officer, the past few years something else had trumped over that dream as his number one priority. resting his head on your soft thighs as you gently play with his hair, hoshina in love seems to be a different person from who he is when he is wearing the defense force uniform.

"i'm not gonna put much so they don't clump," you said, brushing his long eyelashes with the delicate spoolie of your brand-new mascara. hoshina has his eyes shut tight, unmoving. after two more strokes of the mascara wand, he blinked his eyes open, pupils dilating as he stares at your face on top of him.

"tell me again why we're trying out your new stuff on me?" hoshina aimed to sound annoyed, but his attempt was futile. his hum was low when he felt you give him a quick peck on his forehead.

you put back the mascara in your bag, picking the liquid eyeliner next. "because you are pretty," you answered. "i wanna find out if i can make you prettier." you uncapped the eyeliner pen, then leaned down to draw a line in hoshina's eyelids.

hoshina did not bother closing his eyes this time as you work, and instead chose to study your focused expression. if he were to decide, your eyes were his most favourite part of you - they were the first things he noticed when you met for the first time. he liked how you can say nothing at all to him but a glance from you would have communicated a thousand words anyway.

you were too close that hoshina can almost feel your breath. his eyes trained on you, he lifted his right hand, surprising you as he touched your cheek lightly. "you're beautiful, i've told you before already, haven't i?" hoshina sighed.

"i -" tongue-tied and startled of hoshina's words, your hand slightly shook, messing up the cat-eye you are trying to draw on your boyfriend.

hoshina chuckled after several seconds of tensed silence. he rubbed on the corner of his eyes, the pigment of the eyeliner staining his fingers.

without getting up from his spot on your lap, hoshina looked up to you once again. "so like what's next, shall we find out if your lipsticks are kiss-proof?"

a/n: just something short and sweet since i recently reached 400 followers!!! thank you as ever for your support. likes, reblogs, and replies are appreciated but please do not repost any of my writings anywhere.

MASTERLIST

[millerstolemyheart]

Mornings Like These | Drabble

Summary: Joel wakes you up for your morning shift at the stables.

WC: 1,253

Pairing: Joel Miller x M!Reader

Warnings: Smut, brief mention of daddy kink, no proofread

Notes: I dunno I just really needed to get this out of my head guyssss

Mornings with Joel are anything but restful.

Within seconds of stirring, his lips are typically dancing along the shell of your ear, whispering sweet nothings and the occasional breathy swear word while his morning wood swells against the soft curve of your ass. Rough, callused hands caress and grope you awake with a tenderness that surprised you the first time it happened.

“Baby boy… sweetheart… darlin’...”

Each pet name falls as sweet as honey from his lips.

“Sunshine… my love… angel…”

Joel’s list of pet names for you is vast, as he likes to keep a repertoire. It gives him lots of options, depending on what mood he’s in.

“Sugar…”

That’s the one that finally stirs you awake today.

When your eyes finally flutter open, you spot Joel peering down at you with a sleepy expression. Those deep brown eyes of his look tired, but they crinkle at the edge when your gazes meet. His graying hair is tousled from sleep, and it makes you think of that time you towel-dried your cat after a particularly difficult bath. A smile tugs at the corner of your lip, and you bring your hand up to tangle in the soft curls that kiss the nape of his neck.

“G’morning…” You whisper, voice raspy from sleep.

Joel silently presses a kiss to your forehead, and you close your eyes to enjoy the familiar scratch of his whiskered jaw.. Tilting your head up, you capture his lips in a quick kiss. The movement doesn’t faze Joel. He simply slips his hands up to cradle your head in his hands as if it’s second nature.

“Mornin’, sweet boy…” Joel finally rumbles against your lips. He pulls back long enough to study your face. “Sorry to wake you so early. You did say six o’ clock, right?”

Oh, right. Your shift at the stables. No wonder you weren’t feeling his arousal pressing against you.

“Yeah,” You yawn and reach to give his scruffy cheek a reassuring scratch. “Gotta get home and change before I go. Didn’t bring any clothes with me last night.”

In your haste to see Joel after he returned from a late patrol, you’d forgotten to pack any clothes. In your defense, he was wearing that damn green flannel of his that drove you crazy, so you weren’t really thinking of much other than dragging him from the front gate of Jackson back to his own home in record time. The late evening hours turned into a sweaty, sticky blur that didn’t end until Joel had coaxed at least three orgasms out of your spent body.

“Christ, darlin’... just look at you… practically droolin’ for it, ain’t ya?”

“C’mon, baby boy… know you can do it… gimme another. I want it.”

“I know, baby, I know… just one more… do it for me… be a good boy…”

Your cock gave one final weak twitch before your mouth parted in a silent scream, your entire body jolting once, twice, three times before finally giving out and collapsing into the sheets. Joel’s satisfied smirk danced behind your eyelids all night long, along with the gentle praises he murmured into your ear as you succumbed to sleep.

“Such a good boy f’me… can’t believe you’re mine, darlin’...”

Joel gives a soft snort and suddenly peels himself away to reach over the side of the bed with a faint grunt, a product of his aging back. He picks up the very same flannel from the floor and tosses it over to you. “There.” Wearing a satisfied expression, he reclines back against the pillows, head propped up on his arm. “Just wear that. Stay here and have some coffee with me instead before you go.” His voice is low and gravelly, eyes flitting down to the shirt and back up to your eyes. It’s less of a suggestion and more of a declaration.

He knows what you’ll say.

The faintest blush colors your cheeks as you catch the shirt. You give him a careful look and slip it on over your bare torso. Immediately his scent floods your nose with a warm, woodsy aroma reminiscent of wet trees, wood shavings, and the natural musk you’ve grown addicted to. The sleeves hang just past the tips of your fingers, and you shoot Joel an amused look.

“You think anyone’ll notice?”

Not that you would mind…

“Fuck, I hope so,” he grumbles, reaching out to adjust the collar for you. “Want everybody knowin’ you’re mine…” His voice carries a distinct possessive tone, already imagining you going around wearing his scent all day long as you work at the stables. It’s enough to make him want to rip it right back off of you and coax more sweet sounds out of you.

You roll the sleeve back up to your elbows, showing off some of your bare arms. "I'll wear it your way then." You shimmy closer, nuzzling into warm crook of his neck. It’s your favorite place in the world. “Thanks, Joel.”

Joel stretches his arm around you, holding you close to his body, your head still resting against his neck. "Good," His voice is a low rumble, and his free hand reaches to stroke the short hair at the nape of your neck. It sends a delightful shiver down your spine, and Joel responds with a soft hmph, continuing his action and studying your body for any more reactions.

“You doin’ anything tonight, darlin’?” Joel asks after a few moments of silence. His eyes study you closely, though once again he’s sure he knows your answer.

He does.

You give a coy smile. “Seems like I am now.”

"That's a relief," Joel remarks with a wry smile, his free hand moving to your waist, his gaze on your face. "Wouldn't want you spendin' your evenings with anyone else."

“Getting possessive, are we?” You tease him. Your voice comes out muffled from where your face is smushed under his jawline.

“I'm not gettin' possessive, I'm marking what's mine," he counters in a grunt, his tone still low and gravelly. There’s a familiar glint in his eye that promises deliverance.

Mine.

A wave of heat flushes through your body, unable to contain your own growing desire for him. "Well in that case..." You lean up, capturing his lips in a kiss.

Joel immediately groans into your mouth, his breath hot against your lips. His warm hands snake their way back around your middle, one slipping up so he can tweak your nipple with the rough pads of his fingers. “Christ, baby boy…” He mutters, nose squashed against your cheekbone. “Just look at ya… wearin’ my dirty shirt… don’t know what you do to me, do ya?”

You can’t stop your body from trembling as he wraps himself back around you. Everything about him radiates power… strength… safety… His warmth shields you from the chilly morning air of the bedroom. It’s as if nothing else could matter at the moment. Just him. Just Joel.

“J-Joel…” You giggle, your nose nuzzling the warm crook of his neck and breathing in his scent straight from the source. “Not gonna have any time for coffee…”

“Screw the damn coffee,” he snarls, already shifting his body to hover over your own. His weight pins you to the mattress, and there’s a knot that keeps growing bigger and bigger in your gut when you feel just how hard he really is. His cock gives a firm twitch against your thigh.

“I got a better way for us to wake up.”

[kathlare]

shattered sparks

Lando Norris x Amelie Dayman

Summary: After winning Song of the Year at the VMAs, Amelie is caught in a whirlwind of mixed emotions.

Wordcount: 1.6 k

Warnings: kinda sad

request over here!

September 11th, 2024 - Elmont, NY

The VMA afterparty was in full swing, and the energy was electric. The room shimmered with glittering lights, designer gowns, and the buzz of celebrities celebrating their wins. Amelie, freshly crowned with the Song of the Year award for her track Espresso, had every reason to be ecstatic. Yet, as she swirled the drink in her hand and exchanged half-hearted smiles with congratulatory strangers, she couldn’t shake the heaviness in her chest.

Her phone buzzed again in her clutch. She already knew who it was. Lando’s name had flashed across her screen twice tonight, each time making her stomach twist. This time, it was a text.

Lan🧡: Congratulations, Ames. I’m proud of you.

Her thumb hovered over the screen, caught in a battle between ignoring him or giving in to her impulse to respond. But her anger still lingered, sharp and unyielding. Instead, she locked the phone and slipped it back into her bag, raising her glass for another sip of the champagne that had started to lose its sparkle.

—Hey,— her friend Minnie called over the thrum of the party, nudging her gently. —What’s up with you? You’ve been… off tonight.—

Amelie forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach her eyes. —I’m fine. Just tired.—

Minnie raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. —Tired? Girl, you just won Song of the Year. You should be dancing on tables right now.—

Amelie let out a weak laugh, swirling her drink. —Yeah, I should, shouldn’t I?—

Minnie studied her for a moment before placing a steady hand on her shoulder. —Okay, what’s going on? And don’t say ‘nothing.’ I know you better than that.—

Amelie sighed, looking around the room at the blur of happy faces. —It’s just… Lando,— she admitted reluctantly. —We had a fight. A bad one.—

Minnie’s expression softened. —Ah. So, that’s why you’re practically glued to your phone, waiting for his texts?—

Amelie frowned, defensive. —I’m not...—

—You are,— Minnie cut her off gently. —And that’s okay. But, Ames, you’re allowed to enjoy this moment. Don’t let anyone, no matter how cute or British, take that away from you.—

Amelie nodded, but the words only felt like a temporary balm. Her fight with Lando still echoed in her mind—the sharp words, the accusations, and, worst of all, the way he had dismissed her feelings.

The memory made her stomach turn. His words had cut deep, and she hated how they made her feel—irrational, insecure, and small. She had lashed out in return, saying things she didn’t fully mean but couldn’t take back. Now, there was a crack between them, and she wasn’t sure how—or if—they could mend it.

Back in Monaco, Lando was pacing his living room, phone in hand. He had seen clips of her speech and her radiant smile as she accepted her award. It should have made him happy, proud. Instead, it left him feeling hollow. He couldn’t shake the thought that he should’ve been the first person she called to celebrate. But he knew he wasn’t, and it was his own fault.

—She ignored you again?— Pietra’s voice broke through his thoughts. She was perched on his couch, arms crossed, her sharp gaze fixed on him.

Lando ran a hand through his hair, frustrated. —Yeah. She hasn’t replied to anything. Not my calls, not my texts.—

—Well, can you blame her?— Pietra shot back, her tone unyielding. —You were a jerk, Lando.—

Lando stopped pacing, turning to face her. —I know, okay? I messed up. But I didn’t invite Magui. You did.—

Pietra rolled her eyes, unimpressed. —Don’t you dare pin this on me. Yes, I invited her, but you didn’t have to act so oblivious. Amelie found out from someone else, and that’s what hurt her. Not just Magui being there, but you not telling her.—

Max, who had been quietly sipping his drink in the corner, finally spoke up, nodding in agreement. —She’s right, mate. You should’ve just been honest. Amelie’s not mad about Magui; she’s mad because you made her feel like her feelings didn’t matter.—

Lando slumped onto the couch, burying his face in his hands. —I know I screwed up. I just… I didn’t think it was a big deal. Magui and I are nothing, and I didn’t want to make it into something by bringing it up.—

—But by not bringing it up, you made it worse,— Pietra said bluntly. —Lando, you’re in a relationship. You don’t get to pick and choose what’s ‘a big deal.’ If it’s a big deal to her, it should be a big deal to you.—

Her words hit hard, and Lando felt a lump rise in his throat. He hated how true they were, how much he’d failed to consider Amelie’s perspective.

—I just… I don’t know how to fix it,— he admitted, his voice cracking. —She won’t even talk to me.—

Pietra softened slightly, leaning forward. —Give her space, but don’t give up. She’s hurt, Lando, and she has every right to be. But if you love her, and I know you do, you’ll find a way to make it right.—

Lando nodded, swallowing hard. He wanted to believe Pietra was right, but the doubt lingered. What if he had pushed Amelie too far this time? What if she couldn’t forgive him?

As he sat in the quiet of his apartment, the weight of their fight pressing down on him, all he could do was hope that somehow, they could find their way back to each other.

Lando stayed seated on the couch long after Pietra and Max had left his apartment. The echoes of their words bounced in his head, cutting through the silence like a dull blade. He scrolled through the photos from the night, pausing on a picture of Amelie on stage, golden trophy in hand, her face alight with triumph.

She deserved to be happy, to feel celebrated. Instead, because of him, her night was overshadowed by their fight.

Running a hand down his face, Lando sighed heavily. He had never wanted this—never wanted to hurt her. But now, it felt like he was standing on the edge of a cliff, unsure if he could pull them back to solid ground or if the weight of their argument would tip them over.

He typed out another message, staring at the screen for what felt like an eternity before deleting it. Nothing he could say felt right.

--------------

liked by minnie.mills, schechoperez, and others

ameliedayman: 1 short step for Amelie 1 sweet leap for @vmas thank you to my dream of a team/ my entire talented

cast + crew for making this other worldly performance one i wish i could do over and over again. Really a night I’ll remember forever 💎💎👽✨

@brettalannelson @mssjo @edwinjcarranza

View all 2,866 comments

minnie.mills: You ate, left no crumbs, AND teleported us to another galaxy. Iconic. 👽✨

bestiesupport44: HOW does it feel to carry the whole industry on your back??

randomfan29: Okay but why is there no like from him?? 👀 → alienlovers69: @randomfan29 We NEED answers. Where is Lando??

loversofamelie56: If they broke up, she’s WAY out of his league anyway.

gracieabrams: Well deserved!!! The whole world is now just a little bit more obsessed with you 😍💎

alexwolffofficiall: Look at you now, rockstar! Song of the year, you’re making all of us proud 🔥🌟 → ameliedayman: @alexwolffofficial It’s just the beginning, babe!

dualipa: You really did that!! So proud of you, queen 👑🔥

taylorswift: THIS IS YOUR MOMENT. So proud of you! Keep shining, baby 💖🌟 → ameliedayman: @taylorswift Thank you SO much, you’re my ultimate inspiration 💖✨

fan_1234: No like from Lando? Hmmm… Are we sure everything’s cool? 🤔👀

pietrapilao: If I could take that trophy and make it mine, I would! But for now, I’ll just be proud of you 👑✨ → ameliedayman: @pietrapilao You could DEFINITELY take it if you wanted, queen 👑💖

f1gossiper: Y’all... where’s the like from Lando? 👀 Is it time to address the rumors yet? 😂

joe_locke: Knew this was coming!! Song of the Year, and you didn’t even have to try. You’re built for this. 💥💖 → ameliedayman: @joe_locke You always know how to make me smile, thank you so much 💖💫

oliviarodrigo: Omg, you’re a literal QUEEN. So proud of you!! 👑🔥 → ameliedayman: @oliviarodrigo Thank you, love!

fanaccount1: So proud of you!! It’s YOUR world and we’re just living in it 🔥💎

f1fanatic23: So she wins Song of the Year, but Lando didn’t like the post? 🤔 I smell tea. 👀

maxfewtrell: A whole VMA win? Ok, you’re officially unstoppable now 🔥💥 → ameliedayman: @maxfewtrell Thanks, Max!

f1lovers69: Y’all see how she looked? And the performance? Straight FIRE. 🔥🔥🔥

[threepandas]

Bad End: Actions Speak

"Be Silent."

Those were the first words commanded to me by the High Dragon Prince of the South. He did not want to hear me. Did not want to see me. To even be forced to endure, my obnoxious, insignificant, human presence. Any more then he absolutely had too. If it weren't for the fact that I had magic? He likely would have preferred to have me killed.

Just like the others.

I was a prisoner of war. One, which? I had no choice but to take part in. Had been drafted, by the humans. Only to be captured, by the dragons. All I had wanted? From my second chance at life? Was to live quietly. Study magic. Enjoy what I could not, before. Instead? I got warfare. Fear. The constant threat of death.

They needed me to open confidential human intelligence. Reverse engineer defenses and weapons. My safety and quality of life? Depended entirely on my compliance. And? If those reports and devices happened to be trapped to hell 'n back? By Mages FAR more skilled then myself?

Do it anyway. You are replaceable. Either you succeed... or you die.

You... hah... y-you really...

Really can say, I guess, n-now I know...? That...

That you really DO learn faster, under fire. Enduring pain curses. Fighting lethal curses, for your very life. Fire and drowning attacks. Lightning. Wind spells meant to choke the life of out of me, by sucking out all the air from my lungs. They... they really were creative, weren't they? My old colleagues.

Yes, sadistic, in ways I had never imagined. But also? Very, very creative.

I had the scars to prove it now.

All the while, as commanded, I did not talk. Did not DARE. Still do not. Even as I am shoved around. Dragged from tent to tent, building to building. Hurried along, like an inconvenience. A faulty, inefficient, piece of machinery, that dares eat their food and breathe their air. Slow and lagging, but sadly? Oh, sadly. They could not find better.

But I endure. Survive. I do not talk, so I can not offer. I give them nothing more then they demand. Malicious compliance. Nothing more, nothing less, then EXACTLY as you commanded, oh Wardens mine. My Keepers, foul and wretched. The holders of my chains. Someday... someday, this war will end. Or I will die, my luck running out, at long, long last.

And I?

I Will Be Free.

Once, long before this all, I had heard rumors. They say that talented humans, magically gifted humans, tended to be kept as glorified, pampered little pets, in the Vampiric lands. It... it sounds nice, now. To worry for nothing. To be protected. Adored and provided for, like some exquisite house cat, lounging in the sun. I could study again. Find someone nice.

....I worry.

You see, I... I think...

I may be breaking, around the edges of myself. Hairline fractures, born of stress. It's the isolation. Surrounded as I am. None of them are human, none of them will talk to me, at me. Anything at all. They follow the lead of their Prince. And he? Oh, he has made his distain for humanity clear.

Which begs the question. Why is he here?

Or rather, why am I? Dragged, from the ratty little cloth hovel they call "my tent", by the worn and patched to incoherence cloak I now wear, straight to the central command tent. Where the Prince is. The generals. The beating heart of the army itself. Dumped on the ground at his feet, I was fully expecting that to be it. That this would be the day.

They had found a better, less worn down, mage. A stronger one. A more obedient one. My services would no longer be... required.

I sat there. In the dirt. Eyes locked on his feet and waited. Palms splayed against the floor. Why bother fight? If I did THAT, they'd use me as "an example" for the NEXT mage. No. No, better to go quick. I had been reborn once. T-there was a possibility... however small... it... it might? Happen again?

Please, Gods. Please Gods, let it happen again.

But no. I was told, with judgment in his voice, by some general, to "get up". Ha! As though they were not directly responsible for my beaten down state. How dare. How DARE he judge me? I owed them nothing. Refused to die, in some short sighted tantrum of honor or pride.

I would LIVE, damn it. I MUST live. For how ever long I could. I wanted to be free again. To read and travel, do magic for magics sake. Never... NEVER see another dragon again.

Perhaps that was hateful. But damn it... I... I was so tired.

Nonetheless, I stood. Looked at no one and said nothing. Just an empty, ragged cloak with flesh inside. I am not here. I do not suffer. Unfocus your eyes and be far away. Yes, that's right, I tell myself, far... far away. It's like meditation. Just... ride the flow of magic. Do not call it. Merely observe. Let the colors drag you in. Be washed away. Far, far away.

I hear and do not hear, there. See and do not see. They can not touch me, can not hurt me, there is nothing and everything, in the Magics. It is... so... so BeAuTiFuL.

No wonder so many are lost. Drift and never come back.

I play a dangerous game, here.

But they can not hurt me.

No one can.

In here.

No answer comes then. But I am expected to work. Perhaps it is a show? Or they wish to verify, that I am indeed, doing what they keep me alive for. Nonetheless, I sit, in the corner, silent as I got to work. As old colleagues try to stop my heart, freeze my blood, rupture my organs. As burns roar over my skin and lightning crackles against canvas walls.

I do not scream. That would be too close to "speaking". I am not fool enough to give them an excuse. There is a belt I can bite. I use it often. Will have to salvage another, as this one is falling to pieces. That and a silencing spell? My screaming is muted.

Getting better at healing magic, I think. Either I have learned to numb the pain or I may have nerve damage. I doubt, now, that I will ever win awards. For my beauty. Too many scars. My arms are a wreck. My hands a travesty. It is nothing short of a miracle, that I have not LOST any fingers, to this.

Why am I here? Why? Why?

At least in my little hovel, I can curl up and weep. Emote. Can take breaks between bouts of pain and battles of magic. But here? Like a machine, stacks are dumped before me, and I am expected to perform. Do or die, human. We can always find another.

Through it all, haunting golden eyes watch. My pain, my exhaustion, all observed, giving away nothing, by that impassive royal face. I don't know what he WANTS.

Finally, after weeks of considering me, he decides to tell me. Comes to some conclusion, no input required. Why would it be? Of course. He is a High Prince. His power is great, his honor and name without equal. Why would he need MY input on anything.

"Did I know," he asked me, voice ponderous and musing, "That of all the mages his people have captured... I had lived the longest?"

I had not. But it did not suprise me.

He sat, considering me, splayed back in his chair like it was a throne, every bit the picture of a royal. A portrait of the man he was born to be. But the distain... the distain? Had... lessened. Not gone. Never gone. Gods, no. We peons were beneath him. Especially I, a mere human. But? Apparently I was not longer quite so wretched.

Our dear High Prince decided I should get a better tent. A new cloak. Actual medical supplies. What wonders.

It made me nervous. What cost, did these things come with? What expectation? Loyalty? I had offered none and never will. That would quickly become a problem. Still, I kept my head down. Always, always, keep your head down. Let the dragons die, for their stupid fucking war.

No longer replaceable. I discovered.

In the next big attack, as there was ALWAYS a next one, I wasn't evacuated last. As attacks fell. But FIRST, as the soilders were arriving. I was... was "essential personal". Shoved in an evac cart with the fancy strategists.

They started deliberately capturing mage supplies. Books and spell papers, chalks and high quality inks. Not just to disarm their opponents. Oh no. But to give to ME. I had... I had NEVER gotten supplies. The last time I had actually, truely, desperately, needed ink? I had been forced to use my own blood.

My hands actually shook. Touching such richs now. It overwhelmed, after so long, with nothing. I... I had healing books. Could actually look things up!

Curling up, before the piles of crates they dumped in front of my little tent, I didn't care, if they saw me cry. On my knees like an acolyte before the alter. Finally. FINALLY! Answers, armaments, and supplies. Relief, after so long? Was rain on desert sands. Burned skin left tender and screaming, to the cleansing mercy, of the softly weeping skies.

This, too, the High Prince saw.

No where to store them, of course. A gift given then taken away. Held just out of reach. Just long enough to give hope. All the better to torment you with it. Oh where we would we store, your useless little trinkets, human?

But I refuse to play the game. Fine. Take them. Take it all.

I need nothing.

Retreat into the Magics. They can not hurt me. I am not here. Far, far away. I am far, far away.

The High Prince, lounging and watchful, seems to have decided. No. The human things will go to him, actually, not to the fire. He watches with strange, considering eyes. In fact? I will make my self useful. Show my gratefulness. He is using valuable storage space on me, so I am to come before him and study. Prove it is worth it.

Is he not gracious? Now press your face to the dirt in thanks, human. Bow and scrape. Be glad, be honored, that your Liege is so kind.

He does not disagree, as they tell me these things. Why would he? They are his due. I think... I think I hate him. Hate them all. But the pull of books, of proper supplies, is simply too powerful. Back to that wretched tent I go. Under the staring eyes that dissect me so. Finally, I can heal my aching body.

He watchs me. As I study, improve, learn and grow. As old books are taken from me, shipped away somewhere, beyond my reaching, and new ones arrive. I desperately make notes. Hope those notes will be enough. Work and suffer and bleed. Somewhere, in the camp, I sense others.

The come and go. Bright lights that flare and then dim. Struggling and struggling, before finally going out. Some faster then others. The objects and messages they have me working on now? Are truely nasty. Again and again, I see the crests of Nobel houses and royal seals. How powerful, I wonder, have I become? Or is it simply... specialized?

A gift, for not dying.

Over the camp walls, I have begun to recognize the surroundings. The mountains and the valleys. The trees, in bloom. It seems wrong, that the world should be so beautiful, as everything is ending. The nation I grew up in, is falling. But... but we passed Heartriver two weeks back. And THAT? Was well within the border.

And from HERE... I can see the school.

The University of Magics. All I had ever wished, was to return. But... but not like this, never like this. I'm... gods. Oh Gods, I'm sorry. For my weakness. For not choosing to die. For not running at all, before it all began. I should have. But... but I was a coward. And now everyone else, must pay the price.

I stand outside my pathetic little tent and watch the horizon smoke. Burn.

Dragons are so very, very fond of fire.

Far away... j-just go far away... the Magic will always take you. Is always kind. Towards the tent I go. I remind myself, as I force myself to move, one step in front of the other? That if the worst comes to worst? I can just... Let Go. Go DEEP. So deep that no one and nothing can ever find me again. So far away, my body forgets I ever lived at all.

Just... just a soul. Floating along like a jellyfish, in the beautiful Allthings. The light and void, the far away and gone. I-It wouldn't even hurt. Just be like... like letting go of a balloon. I could be that balloon. Disappear into endless starlight...

But... BUT! I wont.. I can't! Not yet. Not until every other path has burned. Last resort. Only, ONLY, as a last resort.

(I refuse to acknowledge... how comforting the knowledge is. That I have a plan at all. A way out.)

Entering the tent, I head for "my table". At the High Prince' feet like a dog. A lovely little carpet, comfortable little pillows, a low table to work on. It would... honestly? It would be a lovely place setting. A delightful workstation. If it were not the context. The obvious, blatant, demeaning context.

Sit at his feet and behave. Be good and you're rewarded, be bad and you're punished. Brought little treats at HIS command? Sit on a pillow, on the floor, as they talk over your head? Ha ha... I? I half expected to one day show up to find someone holding a fucking collar.

If they fucking tried? I was going to set everything on FIRE. Even I, had limits.

However, it was just the Prince and I. Uncomfortable, but I could ignore him. Walking for my humiliating little seat, I noticed him watching me. Slowed. Why... why was he watching me? Awkwardly I paused. Did NOT want to be kneeling in front of a man that was staring that intently at me. Especially not so closely to a man, staring like that. The vibes were... off.

"Did you know, pet, that we actually have several rather old alliances amoung the Vampiric Royal Houses?" He said, breaking the strange silence.

'Pet, huh? Good to know he's at least fucking AWARE. I did NOT consent to that!' I seethe, in my head.

"It's been bothering me, you see. Your wretched state." He continues, completely unbothered that he might as well be talking to a statue. I stare, seethe, would give a limb at this point, to set him on fire. "You've suffered unbearably and I've done nothing to correct it, even though I could. We needed you for the war effort, you see, but now? Now, pet, we're nearly done. And I can finally care for you properly."

"Reward you, properly." The bastard says, calm and oh so reasonable, as though I had anything to do with him willingly.

"Honestly, it's long over due. The second I realized I wanted you as Mine, I should have stepped up to care for you properly. Officially. But, sadly, it would have been a conflict of interest. An abuse of power. Now, however? Now I can finally call on our allies for their support. Get you the medical assistance you so badly require."

A pleased smile stole across his face as he considered me.

"You'll make a lovely vampire. It was selfish of me, to cheat you of the years turning you sooner would have given you, but I'm sure you'll forgive me with time. Our people needed us. I can swear to you now, pet, you will forever remain my favorite, even if I take a Queen."

Horror was like a gut punch, deliver by a fighter jet. I felt immediately and intensely sick. W-what? Frozen so completely I nearly forgot to breathe, I looked for ANY sign he may be joking. Exaggerating. But... but no. W-WHAT?? How. WHEN? At what point, in my torment? In my UTTER SILENCE? Did this man "fall in love"?!

H-How can you LOVE a women you've never-?! No. No, I KNEW how.

You decide you like the IDEA of them. The shape of their body. You project onto them your OWN narrative and decide it is a love story. Fuck. FUCK!! I was... this was... no no NO! I REFUSED. Like HELL was I could to live, trapped for DECADES if not CENTURIES, the pretty little war bride of a tyrant!

The High Prince gets up and walkes towards me. Sweeps me into terrifyingly powerful arms. When he smiles? There are fangs. Deadly and hardly the comfort he thinks they are. We are a laughable contrast. Richs and rags, power and prisoner, royal and the woman who might just burn the world to escape. Shit. SHIT. I was scared of him before.

And that's BEFORE he decided he loved me.

[amongemeraldclouds]

better than revenge | chapter three: from moonlight to sunrise

Can be read as a standalone, Mattheo Riddle x Reader

Chapter three summary: Flashback when you first spoke to Mattheo and he needed your help during winter break.

Warning: Blood, swearing, no use of y/n. I’m using my creative license to bend rules that may not work in the original setting (eg. apparating at Hogwarts and so on).

Author's note: If you read this as a standalone, it’s always gonna stay as sweet as it is, no exboyfriend!Mattheo plot looming about.

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Flashback when you met me.

The moon shines brightly outside the window. I feel a yawn making its way up my throat as I head for my dorm. The place is so silent at night with most students home for the winter break.

A loud crack erupts and someone apparates ahead. What the hell? I raise my wand defensively, but then I see a figure lying on his side, cradling his stomach. I run towards him, hoping he’s not seriously hurt.

I kneel when I reach him and nearly recoil as the metallic stench of blood hits me. There’s so much blood. I close my fist to keep me in place and gently place a hand on his shoulder.

He grunts and rolls to his back, wincing in pain. I see his face and recognize Mattheo Riddle. I’ve seen him around in class and in parties, he’s the type of guy your mother would warn you about. I’ve never spoken to him before.

“Can you stand?” I ask, offering a hand and he nods. I haul him up slowly, bringing his arm around my shoulders for support. He’s heavy but we take things step by step as I walk him towards my dorm, it’s much nearer than the hospital.

I lay him down my bed and prepare a washcloth and bowl of warm water. Once I stop the bleeding and clear most of the blood on his face, I hand him a glass of water. “Thank you,” he says.

I have so many questions, but I just ask the important one. “Whoever did this to you, will they come back? Are they hunting you down?”

“If you think this is bad, you should see the other guys,” he replies, sounding smug despite his bruises.

When he lays back down, I introduce myself. “You’re lucky I study healing magic, I know some spells and have potions here that can help you. You seem injured in your stomach area, would you allow me access?”

“I’m not normally like this,” he says, embarrassed. “Usually, I’d buy you dinner first,” he quips then coughs and winces.

“And that’s what you get for being a smart ass. Permission?” I try again. He nods this time and I unbutton his shirt so I can inspect his injuries. He has two broken ribs and soreness in his abdominal area but nothing further.

I cross my fingers behind me as I think of the right spells. “Are you sure you know what you’re doing?” Mattheo interrupts my thoughts.

“Do you really have a choice?” I retort. “We can take you to Madam Pomfrey, but then you’d have a lot of questions to answer. I’m guessing it’s why you apparated here instead.”

“I meant to apparate in my room,” he tries to explain. With his injuries, I’m amazed he was able to do it at all without ripping himself to shreds in the process.

“Well, if you must know, I was the top student at my healing magic class level one and two,” I say. 

“Nerd,” he says teasing.

“You’re lucky you’re already injured or I might have a go myself. Now do you want to be treated or not?”

“I’m sorry, go ahead,” he sobers and wonders why the hell he was being such a shithead.

I recall the spells again and keep my fingers crossed behind me. I’ve never actually used them before on a living, breathing human, but he doesn’t need to know that. After three tries, it works. 

“I feel so much better,” Mattheo remarks, eyes brightening. It surprises me how captivating they are like stars twinkling in the night sky. I smile back at him.

“I just need to apply some potions, make sure you don’t get an infection then we’re all done.”

I beam after applying the last dose - all those classes and late nights studying paid off. 

“Now get some rest and I’ll take the couch. I need to monitor you for the next couple hours and reapply some of the potions. You’ll be right as rain by tomorrow,” I say.

“I can go back to my dorm, you’ve already done enough,” he says, moving to get up. 

I hold my hand out to his shoulder to stop him. “Nope, if you get up and something goes wrong, you’ll just make it difficult for me. Come on, doctor’s orders.”

He lies back down. “Fine, but the bed is big enough for the two of us,” he says tapping the side of bed for me to join him. “I’m not gonna let you take the couch. It’s not like I can move that much anyway, just don’t do anything to me,” he says playfully.

“If I had bad intentions for you, I would’ve done it already,” I say yawning, way too tired for all this.

He catches it and tamps down whatever annoying remark he was going to say. “Thank you for healing me. Come here, let’s rest,” he says in a gentle tone.

I place a pillow between us and join him after freshening up. Finally snuggled in my blanket, it doesn’t take me long to drift off to sleep.

⭐︎⭐︎⭐︎ 

Mattheo wakes up just as the first rays of sunshine filters in through the window. He looks beside him at your sleeping face, wondering how anyone could be so kind to him. Let alone someone he never spoke to before.

He also wonders why you had to be so beautiful? The way the light radiates off your face gives you an angelic quality. If you were truly an angel, he wouldn’t even doubt it.

Something in his heart flutters like an animal waking from hibernation. It was far more dangerous than any of the wizards he fought off last night. In fact, he’d rather face an army of dementors than explore this feeling.

But maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind it at all.

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A/N: For the longest time writing this series, this was my favorite chapter.

Taglist: @hoeforvinniehackerrr @i-think-you-are-gr8 @thecraziestcrayon @adreamingpendulum @themarauderswife7 @midsoulz @ultramarinetovelvet @val-writes @lafrone @daisiesformylove @mildly-delulu @allebasi05

[slut4thebroken]

Promise

── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Pairing | Neil Lewis x reader

Summary | He’s a perv and lowkey a bad friend lol

Warnings | Smut, technically non con, masturbating, objectification, degradation, misogyny?, perv neil (again).

Words | 1.5 k

Notes | Ty to whoever sent the ask for this 🙌 Also this is barely proofread btw

Ao3 link | <3

Masterlist

“Give me a sec, I need to finish getting dressed.” You said, with only your head in the frame. Your hair was still wet so you must have just gotten out of the shower. He smiled and watched your head disappear, listening to the sound of clothes rustling until you were finally sitting down in front of your computer. “Hi.” You said through a breath of exertion from rushing to get dressed. 

“Hi.” He chuckled, but it trailed off when he noticed your top. You were wearing a very tight, very low cut tank top and no bra— He knew because he could just barely see your nipples poking through the fabric. 

“How was your day?” You asked and he had to force his gaze to move back to your face, finding a small smile on your lips. 

“Same as always. Went to work, came home. Nothing new.” He shrugged. “What about you? You were telling me about something earlier over text,”

“Right..” You groaned, already getting annoyed again at just the reminder of it. “You know that one coworker I hate?” 

“Yeah.” He chuckled quietly. 

“Well, she was there today.” You said bitterly, then started droning on about what happened. Honestly, he couldn’t listen to a word you were saying. He was watching your tits through the screen as his cock started fattening up in his pants— In his defense though… he hasn’t touched himself in like.. two days. So it’s only natural he’d get worked up so easily— especially because it’s you. He palmed his bulge beneath the camera, being careful not to move his arm too much. 

He waited as long as he could… Honestly, he did. 

“Hang on, I gotta turn my camera off really quick. I’m still listening though.”

“Okay.” You said, thinking nothing of it. He turned the camera off and you continued talking, gesturing with your hands, making your tits move in a way that had his mouth watering. Unable to wait any longer, he pushed his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock and immediately started stroking it. His eyes fluttered shut and he bit his lip to stifle a moan as his head fell back. 

He was barely listening to your words, just wanting to hear your sweet voice and imagine you were saying something else instead… something far dirtier. Wanting to watch you again, he leaned his head back up and opened his eyes to study your face. Your lips looked so pink and pouty, and so fucking kissable— it drove him crazy. 

“Neil..” You called out, snapping him out of his trance. 

“Yeah?” He cleared his throat when he heard how raspy it already was. 

“I asked if you were listening.” You giggled— fucking giggled. 

“Sorry… I promise I am now.” It was so hard to talk with his cock in his hand, throbbing with need. 

“Why can’t you turn your camera on?” You suddenly asked, making him freeze. He never thought you’d actually confront him about it…

“I- Uh… I spilled soda all over myself and I’m still trying to clean it up, while being mostly nude… I can turn it back on if you want.” He said suggestively. 

“Okay okay, sorry.” You laughed, then continued talking. “Oh- I wanted to show you what I got the other day. It reminded me of you.” You smiled and then stood up, making his jaw drop. The tank top didn’t even reach your belly button and the shorts you were wearing rested low on your hips. 

When you turned around, he choked on a moan and squeezed the base of his cock, trying not to come right then and there. No wonder the shorts were so low… If you pulled them up any higher, they’d expose more than just the very bottom of your ass. You must not have heard him because you walked a few more steps to your bookcase, then started looking for the mystery object. His hand had a mind of its own and started stroking again as he watched your hips sway while you looked through different drawers and shelves. 

You bent down to look through the bottom half, sticking your ass out as if you were teasing him on purpose. He cursed under his breath when he could just barely see the outline of your pussy in the skin tight shorts. When you leaned back up, the fabric was even higher up on your ass now and when you turned around to walk back to the computer, he saw that your tank top shifted as well, exposing more of your cleavage and the swell of your breasts. They jiggled as you sat back down in the chair.  

“Are you sure you’re listening?” He suddenly heard through the trance he was in.  

“Mhm.. just keep talking. Promise I’m listening.” He tried not to say the words through a moan. 

“Okay…” You said skeptically, but continued anyway. He was enjoying the view of your tits, but he desperately wanted to see your ass again, so he bit his lip and tried to think of a way to get you out of the chair again. 

He waited until you were done talking before asking, “Is that thing up there new?” Your brows furrowed and you turned around to see what he was talking about. 

“The figurine thing? I guess yeah. You haven’t been over in a while.” 

“Can I see it?” You smiled and agreed and he watched you stand up and turn around, only letting you take two steps before stopping you. “Wait,” You froze and turned back around, leaning down into the frame so he could see your face. 

“What?” The way you were bent over exposed even more of your tits and he stifled a groan at the sight. 

“Nevermind, sorry.” He chuckled, playing it off. You seemed suspicious but eventually leaned back up and turned around to continue walking. You got up on your toes and reached up, making your tank top raise even more, now showing your entire lower back. He imagined seeing that when he had you bent over instead, squirming and moaning under him until he came on the cute little dimples you have. 

“I used a stool to get it up here.” You laughed, dropping your heels, making your ass bounce, and twisting around to face the computer. 

“It looks like you’re almost there.” 

“Really?” You turned back around and looked up, then started reaching again, making little groans of effort that had his cock throbbing. 

“Try jumping.” 

“Neil, do you have to see it?” You huffed, already getting tired of this. “Can’t you just wait until the next time you come over?” 

“But I want to see it now.” He made sure to make his pout show in his tone since you couldn’t see his face. You let out a loud, exaggerated groan in response, but kept trying. The first time you jumped, your fingers almost brushed it. He watched in awe and cursed under his breath at the way your ass moved when you landed. Is that how it would move when he plowed into you from behind? 

You jumped again, just barely touching it. When you landed, you pulled your top down, embarrassed by how much of your midriff was showing. Neil muted his computer for a moment, needing to let out the sounds while you couldn’t see that he turned his sound off. 

The tip of his cock was completely red now, pulsing and twitching in his hand as he neared his orgasm. He moaned loudly when you jumped again and his hips bucked up into his hand. 

“Fuuuck..” He groaned, tilting his head back, but not too far so that he could still see the screen. When you jumped again, you finally grabbed it and he turned the audio back on as you walked over. Just before sitting, you pulled your tank top down again when you noticed how much of your stomach was showing. You didn’t seem to mind that the added coverage on your stomach was at the expense of the coverage on your tits. Or you just didn’t know. 

You started talking about the figurine and where you got it, and he let out little uh huh’s or grunts in response. He genuinely had no idea what you were saying, but there wasn’t even a small part of him that cared. You put it down and suddenly stretched your arms up, leaning back in the chair to stretch your back with a low moan. 

He felt his balls tighten up instantly and he got to his feet, knowing exactly what he wanted to do. He rapidly fisted his cock as you leaned back up, your top even lower now. With a stifled groan, his orgasm finally crashed over him. Rope after rope of come painted the computer screen, right on your tits. 

“Neil?” You asked, but he couldn’t talk, not when his body was literally shaking from the intensity of the pleasure. “Are you okay?” He started panting quietly as he stroked the last bead of come out, then released his cock. 

“Yeah.” He said through a breath, flopping back down onto the chair. His cock was still twitching with the aftershocks of his orgasm, especially when he saw your come covered tits though the screen. 

“Are you sure?” You were so cute when you got all concerned like this. So cute, but so dumb. 

“Promise.” 

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[hazyange1s]

the process of detonation (g.w. x f!mc)

summary: Garreth has a bit of a crisis when the reality of growing up starts to hit hard. While trying to overcome self-doubt and bottle up the explosion waiting to happen, she’s there to show him that there’s nothing wrong with a little chaos.

tags: allusions to adhd, alcohol use, seventh year, awkwardness and fluff, literal fireworks, too many food metaphors?, friends to lovers, gryffindor!reader, garreth is an ace at pining, beater!Garreth because yes obviously, the “wearing his sweater” trope, seniors and their existential crises, mc only referred to by she/her pronouns

word count: 5.6 k

rating: T

a/n: my entry for @garrethweasleyfest ! the prompt I used was “explosion” (kind of got inspired by explode - mother mother)

read on ao3

Garreth wasn’t all that good at really explaining the inner workings of his mind, but perhaps he could give it a go.

He might be biased, but in a way; he thought people could be compared to potions. They’re messy, complex, and each have their own set of ingredients that make them what they are — and change how they react. Some people have a little extra rose petals to them, some a sprinkle of stardust, and others are just…pure poison.

In Garreth’s case, his brewing tended to say a lot about his own concoction of self.

Of course, for most of his life, he never really considered that there might be something fundamentally wrong with whatever recipe God or whoever had used to create him. It wasn’t until seventh year when he was finally considered a grown wizard that Garreth began to suspect… and to wonder if there was any leaf or powder out there that could be thrown in to stabilize him.

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

In Garreth’s defense, he had a lot on his mind that day.

Between his growing stack of homework assignments, early morning Quidditch practices three days a week, and the NEWT study group he’d been strong-armed into joining by Natsai and his Aunt, it was a wonder he had any working brain cells left at all. And that didn’t even count the time he spent on his own, er… creative projects.

So it wasn’t all that surprising that he’d accidentally broken a golden rule of potion-making in his sleepy endeavor at a cure for ague. Not once as his knife rocked against the cutting board did he consider that everybody else was flattening the blades and pressing down instead, and the rest of his friends were too oblivious to, either.

“— But then, he tried to kiss me! No request, no warning, nothing! One second I’m mid-conversation about centaurs’ rights, and the next his tongue is two inches from my face! All of that time wasted when I could have been doing any of the million other; more important things I have going on!”

Oddly enough, hearing about his friend’s failed attempts at courting (which were rather numerous) was the best part of his day so far.

Garreth nodded along politely, offering a vague “mhmm” and “you can’t be serious” at appropriate intervals, gaze flickering between his workstation and the witch in the midst of a passionate rant while turning her ladle idly in her own cauldron. He’d never been good at strictly keeping his eyes on his own work, and it was that much harder with her directly beside him; her vest unbuttoned and cheeks fairy floss pink from the vapors surrounding them.

She gave a resounding huff, dropping the ladle to rest her elbows on the textbook open in front of her. “All that is to say; I’ve come to the conclusion that men are incorrigible.”

“Sounds fairly accurate,” Garreth snorted. He gently nudged her off of the book (they often shared his, as it was filled with helpful notes) to double check a measurement.

Even if some little voice whispered that reasonable was boring and she should keep her — ahem — mind open to other possibilities, he dutifully ignored it.

“Although, we’re not all pigs, you know. Some of us have a spot of…well. Class, I suppose.” He grumbled.

“I hope you’re not referring to yourself,” her laughter rang out like the peal of a bell. “You’re a lot of things, Garreth, but you’re not exactly the epitome of a gentleman.”

His face pinched, and again she chuckled, which was a small consolation.

It stung because it was true. Garreth wasn’t exactly a rake by most standards, but he flirted with too many witches and wizards and had snogged half that number besides to be much else. He was a terrible dancer, didn’t have a fortune to inherit (even if he had been the eldest Weasley), and flaunted most rules and regulations.

So, no, he wasn’t winning any awards in Witch Weekly for Bachelor of the Year.

To spite her, he did the gentlemanly thing and conceded, albeit not so gracefully. “I’m only trying to say…you shouldn’t lump us all in with a few bad apples. I certainly wouldn’t have disappointed you like that.”

“How comforting to know. I’m still sticking with my hypothesis, but thanks for trying.”

Well, now he was thinking about how he would kiss her, if given the chance.

(This was purely for scientific reasons, of course.)

Garreth, eager to salvage what remained of his pride, readied another reply as he sprinkled the flakes of dittany into his lightly smoking cauldron. It would have been a good one, too, if not for —

“Garreth!”

There was only a hair of a second between her shouting his name in warning and what was possibly one of his most impressive explosions to date. Even though she lunged for him, she was too late to stop the blast from sending him reeling backwards with a hand over his burning-hot face and a very unbecoming cry of surprise.

Having expected him to be closer, she stumbled in her attempt at pushing him out of the way, and thus they collided like two atoms — tumbling to the stone floor in a jumble of limbs and hissed curses.

“Come on, seriously, Garreth?” Sebastian groaned from an adjacent potions station. He, along with a few others who’d been close to the blast, were coughing and waving away billowing clouds of smoke.

Natty sighed. “That’ll be another ten points from Gryffindor.”

But their protestations fell to the wayside once he was peering up at the sheepish face of his savior; no more than a few inches away. Within kissing distance, even.

Wait. What?

“Fuck. Ow. Sorry,” she groaned, trying to untangle their aching limbs as she lay half-splayed across Garreth’s chest.

It was then that his traitorous mind started paying attention to how warm she was, how bright that ring of pure gold in her eyes was, how infuriatingly good the blend of mallowsweet and smoke clinging to her like a second skin smelled…

Shiiiiittt. Shit, shit, shit.

“No, it’s, uh, it’s my fault. Totally my fault, I wasn’t, er…paying attention,” he panted. The wind had been thoroughly knocked out of him — and it wasn’t just because her elbow had struck him right in the stomach when they’d fallen.

When she managed to sort herself out and hastily climb to her feet, that stinging feeling from before returned, and Garreth didn’t notice the developing bruise on his tailbone one bit.

“Are you alright?” She asked.

“Oh, er, I think so,” he stood up, legs wobbling like a newborn thestral, and dusted off his robes. “My pride took the biggest blow. Though I suppose I should count myself lucky I had the Hero of Hogwarts to save me.”

He waggled his brows, and her jaw went slack before she was doubled over in a fit of raucous laughter.

“What?! It wasn’t that funny.“

“No, you —“ she can hardly get the words out between breathless giggles. “Garreth, your eyebrows.”

Reaching up, his fingers found the ridge just above his eyes — where, indeed, great chunks of what was once thick ginger hair are missing. “Bollocks. That’s the third time in six months.”

The unfortunate loss of his eyebrows (and dignity) became yesterday’s news when she traversed the newly formed space between them to rub what he assumed was soot off of his nose, still chuckling to herself. He resisted the urge to brush away the wayward hairs sticking to her forehead in kind.

“I’ll give you this — you’re definitely not most men,” she grinned.

It was probably an insult, but all Garreth heard was a ringing endorsement. Against the odds, he cracked a lopsided smile of his own.

Maybe he’d even call it a victory.

Professor Sharp waved his wand, and the thick fumes disappeared, allowing them all a good glimpse of his signature long-suffering scowl.

“Ten points from Gryffindor. Shocking, I know,” the ex-Auror sighed, resigned. “And I expect that cauldron to be replaced within the fortnight.”

Well. A bittersweet victory, to be sure.

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

Everything tumbled downhill from there.

In the spirit of further self-reflection, Garreth knew that their unceremonious meeting on the dirty floor of the Potions classroom wasn’t some hit-him-over-the-head moment of recognition — even if most of his revelations came in that form. This one had been creeping up on him since fifth year, like a wily sort of poison; disguised with a sweet scent to throw him off.

But just how massively fucked was he, you may ask?

That became clear one rainy afternoon. Not just any rainy afternoon, mind you, because those were a galleon a dozen during autumn in the Scottish Highlands; but the afternoon of their first Quidditch game of the year against Slytherin.

Which didn’t help the fact that his head was already so not in the game.

It started out well enough, with Gryffindor managing to make several goals in a row that had their swaths of supporters in the stands crowing with pride. Garreth did his best to keep up as he weaved and dodged and looped around the field, trying to focus solely on the hunt for Bludgers. Of course, this required him to pay equally close attention to his teammates lest they fall victim to one of the bloodthirsty balls.

One teammate in particular more than the others, perhaps.

Flying was made all the more difficult by the sheets of icy rain pelting his face. Not even the goggles – with the assistance of an Impervious Charm – were helping him distinguish much more than vague blobs of color streaking through the cloudy sky. This, he justified, was why he started to miss more swings than he made and almost dropped his bat (twice). It wasn’t Garreth’s fault the elements were working against them.

Despite that, they were still forty points up when the conniving snakes switched tactics and started going after Gryffindors’ three female Chasers. Natty was an expert at evasion, and Nellie tended to fly high to avoid them… but not her.

She always had to be in the bloody thick of it, didn’t she?

It might have been annoying, if it wasn’t so damn impressive. Garreth couldn’t help but admire the way she moved; how she’d feint and crack a little smile each time someone fell for the trick. The way her red sweater clung, dripping, from her frame and strands of hair curled around her wet forehead were particularly distracting, too.

For the first time in his career, Garreth found himself wishing he was in the crowd – just so he could watch her.

Sebastian tossed the Quaffle to Imelda over Natty’s head – only for his face to contort with rage when it was snatched from the air between them. Garreth whooped proudly when she took off towards the goal posts. The first Bludger was hot on her tail, but so was he, maneuvering between her and the ball. He spent the next few minutes as her guardian until having to turn tail at the last minute to rescue Lucan.

The next events happened so quickly he couldn’t quite recall much but this: a familiar, feminine cry of alarm from behind him, the brown blur of a Bludger streaking towards him, and the reverberation in his arm when his bat connected with it. There was a thunderous crack, and then another scream.

What he’d meant to do was send it towards any of the three Slytherins trying to overtake her, but instead…

Garreth’s entire world narrowed down to the moment when she just barely managed to duck out of the Bludger’s path. He’d come to a screeching halt on his broom, hovering mere feet away from her with his eyes wide as saucers behind his foggy goggles, something sinking inside him as the Slytherins flew off with the Quaffle. The stadium erupted into cheers for them seconds later.

“What the hell was that?” She panted, her indignant scowl apparent even through the downpour. “You almost took my bloody head off, Garreth!”

“It — it was an accident. And you’re fine, right, so no harm, no foul?” He had to shout to be heard over the spectators and the wind.

“An inch to the left and I wouldn’t have been fine at all! I don’t know what’s wrong with you, but you need to get it together!”

“I just –”

She sped off so fast the resulting wind made him shiver. Either Garreth was simply losing his touch, or there was something seriously wrong with him lately. Cursing to himself, he shook off the chill her anger had left him with and the shame that followed, and threw himself back into the game comforted by the knowledge that he’d be able to get roaring drunk at the after party.

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

Drunk might be an understatement, actually.

By the time the party was in full swing, Garreth had already downed more than his share of the sneakily procured liquor (courtesy of yours truly, Sirona’s unrelenting generosity, and several bribes to the house elves in the kitchens). Someone had enchanted a few of the lamps to change color occasionally, throwing red and green and blue lights around Gryffindor’s common room, which teemed with House members in Quidditch jumpers and all other manner of memorabilia. Even little Doge and Dumbledore had emerged briefly to shyly congratulate the team.

Not even the jubilant music pouring from the gramophone or the well-earned laughter of the partygoers could drown out what was going on inside Garreth’s head.

He’d never embarrassed himself so profoundly at a match before. Quidditch, like potion-making, was one of the few areas Garreth excelled in, and he couldn’t even do that right. Ever since school had started up again, he’d been a mess. Exploding cauldrons, racking up more detentions than ever, always saying the wrong thing…

It was seventh year, for Merlin’s sake, and he was a grown wizard now. But while everyone else was coming into themselves, it seemed like he was just coming apart.

So instead of enjoying the victory, Garreth had taken to drowning his sorrows in drink while watching from the sidelines; neck-deep in an early quarter life crisis while slumped in one of the armchairs. Leander found him there eventually, his freckled face a mask of concern as he leaned against the wall beside him.

“What’s with the sour face?” Leander raised a brow. “We just beat Slytherin! I thought you’d be dancing on the tables or something.”

“I’m not really in the dancing mood. Go on, I’ll live vicariously through you.” Garreth grumbled.

“As much as everyone would probably love to see that, I’d rather find out what’s got your wand all knotted up.”

Garreth sighed, raking the hand not currently clutching a glass of Firewhiskey through his still-damp curls. “You saw what happened, Lee. The team’s probably pissed at me for being a massive disappointment, especially…”

He gestured vaguely to the hero of the hour (the hero of every hour of every day as far as he was concerned, and she’d earned the title several times over) across the room. She was talking with Natty, Nellie, and Cressida by the fireplace, her smile brighter than the flames’ glow that lit her from behind. A clawed hand squeezed at his heart.

“Oh, that? That was…I mean, you made a minor miscalculation. Most of them have forgotten already, I reckon.” Leander’s eyes darted to the side — as they always did when he was lying horribly.

“A minor miscalculation that could have led to the untimely death of one of my best friends.”

“You’re being even more dramatic than usual…are you tossed already?”

”I dunno, mum; am I?”

There was a quiet rumble around him, like thunder. At first he thought it was just his stomach informing him of how much he’d indeed had to drink, but then a fat drop of rain landed on his nose.

Leander’s big, dark eyes rolled to the ceiling, and he dragged Garreth onto his slightly unsteady feet with an arm in his. “Alright, you’re being bloody insufferable, and you’ve quite literally got a dark cloud hanging over you. Come on, up you get — go talk to her and apologize.”

“No, Lee, please!” Garreth whined. “I’ve suffered enough humiliation today.”

”Don’t be a coward, you’ll be fine.”

The taller boy weaved through the crowd easily, pulling a stumbling Garreth along beside him until they came face-to-face with the very group of girls he had been avoiding all night. They all went quiet immediately — which was not a good sign.

Garreth scratched the back of his head, glancing between Leander and the witch with the suspicious scowl in front of him, feeling for all the world like he’d never been less of a Gryffindor than in that moment. Surely the alcohol was supposed to help with these things, right?

”Er…would you like to dance?” He blurted.

Well, that wasn’t what he’d meant to say at all. But having to talk to her at all in his clumsy state seemed even more daunting with all eyes on him, and getting her alone was a simple solution.

“You sure you’ll be able to without tripping over your feet?” Nellie snorted.

“‘M perfectly cohabitated — uh, coordinated, I mean,” Garreth argued.

Natty shook her head, hiding her laughter behind a hand. “Oh, dear.”

His favorite witch turned a familiar shade of pink, and for a moment Garreth feared that she’d laugh in his face, but eventually she sighed and handed her bottle of Butterbeer to Natty.

“If you step on my toes, I’ll jinx you,” she warned, leading him to the center of the room where groups of friends and cozy couples were scattered to dance to the magically amplified music (it was a miracle none of the professors had come to complain about it, really).

“No promises.”

Garreth wrestled with what to do when they got there. Was he supposed to take her hand? Her waist? Or, rather, should he keep it friendly and avoid touching her at all? The latter option seemed much less risky, and yet he found himself longing to feel her hand in his and the heat of her body. He’d been hooked ever since that day in Potions.

Deciding it would be better to keep his distance for now, Garreth went with swaying awkwardly on the spot instead, but she had other ideas — her hand sought out his, and she threw him into a dizzying little turn that evoked both laughter and a slight wave of nausea.

“Oh, are you leading?” He chuckled, suddenly thankful for the ballroom lessons they’d all received the year prior as he mimicked her move, twirling her playfully with ease that surprised even him.

“That might be safer,” she said. “Although you’re not doing half bad so far.”

“Always the tone of surprise,” Garreth grinned proudly.

He spent the better part of five minutes praying he wouldn’t step on her toes while simultaneously working up the courage to acknowledge the erupment in the room. And, because the universe didn’t like to make anything easy for him, Garreth had to compete with the little flutters in his stomach that beat their furious wings each time she laughed or squeezed his hand.

Merlin, just pull your wand out of your ass.

“Hey, so, about earlier. You know, during the game… you’re right, I wasn’t…I don’t know where my head’s been lately. I didn’t mean to muck things up.”

His breath held until she shrugged, her easy smile fading into something edged with concern. “Don’t worry about it. We won, and my head’s still attached to my body, so no hard feelings.”

She drew back, the impish grin back as she spun him again — which wasn’t very easy considering he had to duck under her arm. The room seemed to be moving with him, and Garreth had to right himself as subtly as possible when he came to a stop as colors that didn’t belong to the lights danced in his vision.

“You alright?” She chuckled, her hands braced on his biceps to steady him. “I think Nellie might have had a point about you tripping.”

“No, no, I’m good, just waiting for the room to stop spinning so I can look at you again.”

That hadn’t quite come out right. In place of the eye roll he was expecting, she giggled, adding fuel to his liquid confidence.

“Gods, you’re cute when you laugh,” Garreth found himself saying. He realized she was leading him away from the crowd, and soon he sank into a squashy cushion beside her. “I mean, you’re a bit blurry right now, but…still cute.”

“Okay, what’s gotten into you lately? Not that I mind the flirting… but you’ve been a right mess for weeks. I don’t think I’ve seen you this drunk before; not even when you saw your OWL results.”

A low groan rumbled in the back of his throat. “I’m peachy, pinkie promise.” Did she just say she didn’t mind his flirting?

Giggling at how absurd the words sounded together, he stuck his pinkie out to her and waited. “Come on, these are sacred!”

She did actually roll her eyes this time, but then her smallest finger hooked around his, and it didn’t pull away even when they were certainly exceeding the normal amount of time for a handshake. Garreth could smell the sweetness of Butterbeer on her breath.

It wasn’t enough to convince her, though. “Are you stressed about NEWTs? Who am I kidding, everyone and their grandmothers are. But if it’s really getting to you, then —“

Apparently, she wasn’t giving up, so Garreth sighed and rested his head against the back of the couch.

“Yes, I’m a bit strung out over the exams that will decide our entire career, what d’you think? I’m not going to have a fit over it.”

“Sorry,” her hands raised in surrender. “Just trying to figure out why you haven’t quite been yourself since the term started because I bloody care.”

“I would argue that blowing things up and making stupid decisions is very much on brand for me.”

Releasing a heavy sigh (more like an impatient huff, really), she wrested her pinkie from his, leaving Garreth more than a bit disappointed. But then again, what had he expected? That she’d sit there and hold his hand?

He hadn’t earned that. Somehow, he had earned her friendship from the very first day of their fifth year, but in no way did he reserve the right to even hope of something more. She was, well… extraordinary, and Garreth was an extraordinary disaster.

Maybe it was time he rectified that.

“Wait,” he tugged pathetically on her sleeve when she rose from the couch. “Sit with me for a little bit longer? I might need someone to Accio a rubbish bin over here soon.”

To his great relief, she sat down again, shaking her head to disguise a little chuckle. “You’re something else, y’know?”

”I’ve been told once or twice.”

̶̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶«̶ ̶̶̶  ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶̶ ̶»̶ ̶̶̶ ̶ ̶

Bonfire Nights had been sparse the past couple of years around Hogwarts, as many of the residents had feared drawing attention to themselves with the looming threat of Ashwinders and goblins and the like. This year, Garreth had had the pleasure of seeing pyres built weeks beforehand, and by the end of October Zonko’s had sold out of Filibuster’s Fireworks.

As night settled over the Highlands, bonfires began to flare to life all along the rolling hills, appearing like flaming stars from the view at the castle. Garreth, alongside a group of fellow seventh years carrying sparklers and mini-fireworks, spent the brisk walk to the hill above Hogsmeade village lost in uncharacteristic melancholy. He’d never been the sort to reminisce; preferring to live in the here and now whenever possible, but for some reason the knowledge that this would be his last Bonfire Night at Hogwarts made it all a bit bittersweet (the flavor of the month, it seemed).

They drank hot chocolate in ceramic mugs provided by Sirona, surrounded by the body heat of the villages’ residents as they talked and laughed and chased their children away from the forest at the edge of the plateau. Hogsmeade’s lights had been dimmed for the occasion, glowing softly below them to allow the six foot pyre they gathered around to shine.

“I can’t believe next month is Christmas already,” Leander was saying between greedy sips of the drink cupped in his blue-tinged hands. “Then it’ll be the New Year, then Spring Break, and before we know it we’ll be taking our NEWTs and graduating…”

“Breathe, Lee,” Garreth chuckled. At least he wasn’t the only one getting hit with the terrifying reality of time all at once.

”I know, is it not amazing? The last few years have gone by so quickly. I will miss this place come summer, though,” Natty sighed wistfully.

Nellie snorted. “Speak for yourself. If I never have to open a textbook again after school is over, it’ll be too soon.”

“Where’s your sense of adventure, Leander?” His favorite Gryffindor (don’t tell Nats or Leander) joined their little circle, her frame wrapped in a thick red scarf and one of his old Christmas sweaters she’d stolen from him in fifth year and never given back — not that he minded, as it didn’t fit him anymore and looked far better on her, anyway.

The lanky redhead grumbled a reply, “Easy for you to say. Half of my job will be desk work.”

“No shame in that,” she shrugged. “Garreth’s going to be behind a cauldron, after all.”

“Hey, Potioneers do other things besides just… brew. I’ll still forage for my own ingredients, travel to sell them… hell, one day, I might just have my own shop.” Garreth said with pride.

“So long as you don’t blow it up,” her cheeks dimpled when she smiled.

As if on cue, a loud boom shook the ground beneath them. Everyone’s eyes shot to the sky, cheers swelling amongst the crowd as the first firework exploded in a shower of golden sparks, dissolving back towards the earth like falling stars. Despite all their talk of the future, Garreth felt like a first-year again as a smile broke out on his slightly chapped lips, apparently not immune to the childlike wonder the fireworks always seemed to bring.

The next one was even louder and brighter. Garreth nearly jumped out of his skin when an iron grip closed around his arm and a body pressed into his left side. She had buried her face in his shoulder, too, and a warm feeling unrelated to the cocoa spread from his stomach.

“Aww, is the big, bad Gryffindor afraid of fireworks?” he teased, trying not to enjoy the smell of her shampoo or the color in her cheeks too much as she looked up at him sheepishly.

“Shut up!” The shivering witch hissed. “Am not. I’m just…cold, and you’re a damn furnace, as usual.”

“Oh, you’re cold,” Garreth pouted just for the drama of it. Then, before he could convince himself it was a bad idea, he wrapped his arm around her shoulders to pull her closer still. “I suppose I’ll have to keep you warm, then.”

”And they say chivalry is dead.”

She flinched after the third blast, leading him to rub her shoulder in a subtle attempt at comfort, his heart thumping almost as loud as the fireworks now going off in quick succession when she curled into him. It was then that his Neanderthal brain concluded why she might have been so terrified; after fighting in a bloody war just two years ago.

“Sorry,” she mumbled.

“Don’t be. I don’t mind.” At all. Garreth laughed to himself and set down his mug in the grass so he could cover the ear she didn’t have pressed to his chest with his hand.

“You know, you’re really sweet when you want to be,” he thought he heard her say over the explosions echoing throughout the valleys.

He lowered his head to speak into the ear closest to him, lips brushing the flyaways from her hair, rubbing her arm again when he noticed her shiver. “Don’t tell anyone. I have a reputation to uphold; can’t have everyone think I’ve gone soft.”

Truth be told, his limbs always felt like melted taffy around her — he was practically a puddle at her feet.

They were quiet for a few minutes. Eventually, her head lifted partially from his shoulder, and with a sidelong glance he caught her peering up at the sky with a look best described as wonder. Each burst of sparks was reflected in her wide eyes, and Garreth felt tiny pricks of electricity along every nerve in his body at the sight.

“So, um…” he scrambled for something to say so he wouldn’t think about how close her lips would be if she turned to the side a bit. “Are you still going to write to me after school’s over? Or will you forget all about us little people when you’re off traveling the world in search of ancient relics and having daring adventures?”

“Of course I’m going to write, you moonmind,” she looked up at him, then, and his hand fell from the side of her head. “And I’ll come visit, too, so I can see that shop of yours.”

Perhaps she was just humoring him, but Garreth found nothing but sincerity in her soft smile, and his own crooked grin widened at the thought that she might be one of the first to genuinely believe in him.

“What’s got you so pensive all of a sudden?”

He shrugged, absentmindedly playing with the frayed edges of her cashmere scarf. “Maybe it’s just the old age catching up to me. It pairs well with my bum hip, I think.”

”Come on, I’m serious. I won’t tell anyone and ruin your sterling reputation, I swear.”

“I don’t know,” Garreth let out a sigh, his breath clouding in the air between them. “Just realized how much I’m gonna miss you.”

“And here I thought you’d be sick of my face after seeing it every day for three years,” her eyes darted away from him to watch a spray of green and red fill the starry sky. She wasn’t shaking anymore.

Never, he almost said. Garreth knew, as he gazed hopelessly at her perfect profile, that he would never be tired of her face — well, of all of her, really. In fact, he wouldn’t mind seeing her every day for the rest of his life.

“If you’re going to miss me so desperately… Perhaps you could join me on one of my so-called ‘daring adventures’ sometime; on the off chance Pippin gives you a holiday.”

His brows shot up as she met his stare. “Really? You’d want me to tag along?”

Their classmates and the villagers burst into raucous whistles and hollering as the finale began, fireworks filling the air with the smell of gunpowder and a rainbow of light that flashed on everyone’s uplifted faces. Garreth held her tightly lest she start to panic again, but the witch in his arms just laughed jubilantly at the crowd’s infectious excitement, nodding in response to his question.

“Sure. Never know when you might need a talented Potioneer to back you up. Fair warning that we’re bound to run into some trouble now and again, naturally.”

The thump of his heart became something wild and frantic, beating away beneath the hand she’d placed on his chest until he feared it, too, would simply explode. Gods, if they weren’t careful, he would wind up doing something massively stupid… or massively genius, depending on the results.

“As long as you’re there, I say bring it on,” Garreth beamed.

He could hardly believe his luck. She’d asked him to accompany her on her travels! That had to mean something, right?

Only one way to find out for sure…

“And would it be…er, just the two of us, or would Sebastian and Ominis and the rest of the crew be joining as well?”

Her eyes sparkled with recognition. “That depends on how you would feel about us traveling alone.”

”Would it be rather selfish of me to say that I’d love to have you to myself for a bit?”

“Probably…” her breath warmed his cheeks, though they were already burning hotter than a cauldron flame as Garreth became hypnotized by the way her teeth worried at her reddened lower lip. “But then I’d have to admit that I’m selfish, too.”

Now, that was a sign.

The last round of fireworks were utterly deafening, so Garreth had to lean in once again until the cold tips of their noses brushed to say, “Could I be even more of a self-serving bastard and ask you for one more thing?”

”Yes, you can — and yes to anything you want,” her lashes fluttered as her gaze dropped down to his slightly parted mouth.

“Anything?”

Garreth wasn’t one to ignore an opportunity when it arose. He took it and ran, gently placing his hand beneath her chin at the same moment his eyes slid shut and their lips brushed together with such a delicate touch that he shuddered. Then she took the lead, deepening the kiss with a wispy little sigh that had him weak at the knees and left him unable to form any solid thought but for how fucking incredible she tasted with the remnants of rich chocolate on her tongue.

When the two of them disconnected, the last sparks were fading from the sky, but they lived on in Garreth’s veins, popping and crackling like Fizzing Whizbees.

“See?” He murmured while still trying to catch his breath. “Didn’t disappoint you, did I?”

Her laughter bubbled up between them, brighter than any display. “You never disappoint, Garreth Weasley.”

Garreth had wondered before if he’d been made wrong; like one of his failed experiments with just a splash too much of the wrong thing. But perhaps — especially with someone like her to help keep him stable — some of the best things could come from the unpredictable and the unexpected.

He didn’t exactly find the missing ingredient…it had been there all along.

[ganondoodle]

i might have already talked about this but i honestly cant remember if i did or if its one of my totk thoughts that keep haunting me in my head (and god knows how id find it on tumblr)

.. did they ever say how long link was gone for? like at the start? bc to me it feels like it must have been months or something given how some things are .. although others are the opposite

like the spypost alone is so weird to me, its a goddamn stupid place to put it, a SPYpost should either be concealed or in a hard to reach place with good look of the environment around it- which it doesnt have at all (despite higher up hills being right around the corner ...), who would put a spy post directly on flat ground at the castle doors?? (AND in a place where i think would have been the ONLY good place to put nothing there/dont change it- or have it bee a secret entrance into the castle you can find on your own .. if the castle was actually like a dungeon and inaccessible for the most time ...) makes even less sense if it was built before link disappeared bc wh- .. whats its purpose anyway? the calamity is gone and instead of rebuilding castle town or soemthing nearby you put the words least sensical spypost right at the front of the castle thats a dead dirty lump of rock (yes i know zelda mentions soemthing of the miasma being active or whatever but that changes nothing abotu how little sense thing darn thing makes to me .. ) (i will stand by my idea of rebuilding the ranch ruins into a little hub and tavern instead, a spypost can be a smaller thing higher up but that as a little new town and maybe with my personal little wish of having all your horses run around a ranch, of course its got little defense, this is a ranch and the calamity was gone and its not that close to the castle, its also rather in the middle of the map and a bigger wider area would be hard to miss, plus its using an old neat reference and making something meaningful out of it, soemthing this game is allergic to im- *breathes in* fine.)

death mountain, i assumed at least, cooled down with the cataclysm (.. way too serious sounding for .. largely just some pebbles falling from the sky) and it seems like theres alot of stuff built on there and even grass growing and everything, like its been that way for a long time, yunobo being dumbified by brainwash mask and the things he does also dont feel like they happen in a day or two

the other regions on the other hand ... ignoring how mcuh of a non issue the rito problem is (the oooooh blizzard doesnt even stop them from flying ..... its not freezing them either bc none of them wear any more clothes and just do business as usual .. but then food is supposed to be a problem? .... you .. you can fly ..... ... why wasnt the boss then a monster that eats everything of the region or soemthing ... a big ol worm razing entire forest, or .. you know, make the blizzard an actual problem, winds so strong you cant fly, temperature so low you freeze immediately without special armor), are just .. dealing with it themselves? and dont seem to even seek out the help of anyone else? like it literally just happend?

but then theres entire sonau research teams and people studying it but .. all the shit started to appear with the cataclysm ... so???? though zelda at the start talks about it like its been a well known every day life fact that the acnient stupid furry first king of gods holy lands was called rauru and he was a sonau (WHICH NO ONE KNEW ANYTHIGN ABOUT THE LITERAL ONYL THING KNOWN WAS THE ARMOR SET IN BOTW THAT ALSO DOESNT MATCH ANYTHING AT ALL TOTK SONAU) and his fridge wife was sonia like its just written in every history book and still somehow accurate (might i remind you its been MORE than TEN THOUSAND YEARS sicne then and nothign was known of them in botw) while no one remembers link from a 100 years ago, nor from 6 years ago, but then remembered the champions for the 100 year botw gap and then promptly forgot about them in totk (it really feels like that) BUT THEN you got kids in school that dont fking believe the calamity happend (which was defeated just like 6 years before that)

then again .... theres not a single soul on the sky islands, despite there, NOW more than ever, multiple ways to get up there, are you telling me everyones obsessed with the stupid sonau shit and then no one even tries to go up there??? arguing that it wasnt accessible until noodle zelda broke through the clouds at the end of the tutorial doesnt work bc those ruins already fell down, people must have known and no one even tried?? also they can go up there after it go opened up?? plus clearly the ruins were able to fall through also ... what even determines whether an island falls down or not? why do some fall when tHe dEmON kInG wakes up? you see it with those green sonau magic stuff but like .... who ... did that, both rauru and mineru were dead when zelda noodlefied herself and there everything was STILL on the ground? the only magical thing the constructs do is use fuse sometimes i dont think they can lift up all that shit .. clearly is wasnt rauru either bc he acts surprised about it being up here, but why does it falter when big il ganon man wakes up? mineru after the weird static non battle with ganondorf wasnt doing so hot and we have no idea how much time passed between that and the moment she goes into the purah pad (i could be annoying about that as well) either

in taburasa (tarrey town) they do all that shit with the sonau stuff, implying theres enough time that passed to make people tinker with it too so ?(though i still hate that bc its so .. shouldnt you of all people be scared of more techy bs materializing when the whole calamity is like back almost exactly like it was before? not even suspicious? no? you dont even know how it works yet everyone trying to work with it like there isnt anythign better to do??)

like with everything in this game it keeps contradicting itself, the inconsistency makes me want to rip my hair out anytime i try to make sense of it

[destielomegaversebigbang]

Castiel's Guide to an Accidental Courting

Posting September 9, 2024

Fic by Siaice

Art by SoloArcana

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Castiel had long since given up hope of participating in Courting Season. No one would like to mate a clumsy Alpha with black wings, a loner who preferred to spend his free time gardening, studying animals and carving in wood, instead of doing some commanding job. So, why even bother? He had his patients, nature and his peace of mind. That’s all he ever needed. And if sometimes he wished for his friend to reciprocate his feelings… Well, that’s his little secret.

But why did Dean suddenly start invading his personal space? And why did he keep looking at him like that?

Dean, as the Omega son of the leader of the Earthly Angels’ flock, is expected to attend every Courting Season that happens in Heaven. Four times a year, every year, he has to say ‘no’ to random suitors (or a very stubborn one) because the only Alpha he wants can't take the damn hint.

But oh, why is Cas presenting his wings to him? Is it finally happening?!

Or:

A story about one idiot who thinks he’s being courted, and the other idiot who isn’t courting him at all.

Tags: No Archive Warnings Apply, Non-Traditional Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Alternate Universe - Angels, Alpha Castiel/Omega Dean Winchester, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Wing Fic, Wing Kink, Wing Grooming, Fluff, Slight Angst, Humor, Fantasy, Misunderstandings, Miscommunication, Romantic Comedy, Comedy of Errors, Courting Rituals, Courting Gifts, Courtship, Oblivious Castiel, Didn't Know They Were Dating, Mutual Pining, Castiel Has Self-Esteem Issues, Hunter Dean Winchester, Healer Castiel, Doctor Castiel, Carpenter Castiel, Demisexual Castiel, Openly Bisexual Dean Winchester, Unrequited Michael/Dean Winchester, Past Bullying, Very Light Violence, Animal Death (in the past, random bird), Chase, Knotting, Mating Rituals, Mating Bond, Top Castiel/Bottom Dean Winchester, Happy Ending

Excerpt below the cut

“If you must know, I was researching bird habits for… fun.”

“Oh, yeah? I knew you were a nerd but even you must have better ways to entertain yourself than that,” Dean’s tone was playful, teasing, yet Castiel couldn’t reveal the real reason behind his dancing session, it could have ended up being humiliating or devastating.

Knowing he had nothing to lose - Dean had already caught him - Castiel decided that the best defense was an attack (as in surprise, not physical). Assuming quickly a crouching position, he spread his wings, bringed them slightly forward and started shaking them alternately up and down along with his arms.

Dean choked on his tongue, his eyes going wide, disbelieving in what he saw happening in front of him.

“What the hell?”

“The male ostrich’s courtship dance is much more animated than this, very gyrating and with wildly waving of his head - my neck is not adapted to such movements,” Castiel tried to recreate the motion he saw on the video with a poor result.

Trying to keep his balance, Castiel closed his eyes, therefore completely missing the flicks of the curious omega’s wings.

“They’re naturally quiet birds, but during the mating season they make loud, hollow-sounding booms to attract hens,” he shared, before he froze to reach deep inside himself to release a low, rumbling sound that puffed out his cheeks.

A loud burst of laughter forced him to lift his eyelids.

Dean looked so happy. He was laughing so hard he had to clutch his knees to avoid falling forward and had problems with catching his breath.

It was the most beautiful thing Castiel has ever seen in his life.

[storm-angel989]

Lucifer x Eldest Daughter Part Three

Thank you all for your patience! I think this fic will be a perspective shift style- sometimes updates will be from third person Lucifer, others may be first person reader. It took me a hot minute to get it quite right, but I think I managed. Let me know what y'all think!

Tales told to me by my father painted hell as a vast, spacious, dirty place filled to the brim with death and demons. A stark juxtaposition to our clean streets of heaven. Bedtime stories were filled with the terrors of cannibal town, of sharp claws and bloody teeth. More often than not, I crawled into my parents bed weeping from the nightmares given to me by my father’s tales. 

The scene that greeted me wasn’t my expectation. 

I studied the room we appeared in. A conference room, much like the one’s the angelic council held sessions in. But instead of the gold accents and the stark white walls, this room was done up in reds and blacks. 

“Sit, child,” he told me. 

I hastily complied as he seemed to glide out of the room. Several moments later, he returned with another being, the sight of whom sent fear pulsing through my heart. I was on my feet in a matter of seconds, preparing to defend myself. 

Fight, or flight. And the latter was no longer an option.

He stared at me.

“Duckling? What in the world are you doing here?”

I stared back at him in a mix of fear and anger. Duckling? Did he mean to compare me to the weak, feathery aquatic animal? Big talk from such a short man. 

He seemed to realize his words did nothing to move the conversation forward or take me off the defense. He held up both his hands in surrender.

“Hey, hey. I didn’t mean it like that. I’m…”

“I know who you are!” I snarled. “Lucifer Morningstar, king of hell and ruler of all things evil.” I jumped to my feet, reached for a sword that was no longer there and curled my fists. “You are the reason angels  have to commit such atrocities! You are the reason this universe cannot live peacefully!”

His only reaction to my words was to look slightly annoyed. 

“Ah yes. And you’re Reader. Raised by High Commander Adam, is that correct?” 

I winced at the sound of my fathers name and gritted my teeth. “Yes.”

“Then why are you all the way down here? A little early for extermination day, aren't you?” He asked in what could only be described as a taunting voice. 

I puffed myself up, “I have never laid hands on a demon! My father wouldn’t all-”

“I think we all know firsthand what your father is capable of,” he interrupted. “But nonetheless, your presence down here is a problem. You’re in danger, duckling. Whether you know it or not.”

“Do not call me that! I am not weak, or helpless!” I shot back. I felt my sense of self control snap and I lunged forward. I would crack that pompous, old fashioned windbag in the face for such insults!

He caught me easily and with the slightest of movements, I slammed back first into the wall across the room. Smugly, he dusted himself off as I struggled to pull myself back to my feet.

“On the contrary, Duckling,” Lucifer smirked as he walked over to me. “Your presence in and of itself is a problem, and your lack of knowledge or abilities in hell will get you killed in seconds. You’re lucky Zestial here found you first,” he nodded towards the tall being in the corner who still stood, observing the interaction with, of all things, a cup of tea in his hand. “Otherwise, who knows what could have happened. And you’ll be such an important bargaining chip.”

He grabbed my upper arm and pulled me to my feet. I saw the Hellfire in his eyes and met them with determination. If this was my fate, so be it. 

“I have a place for you, until such a time you’ll be of use to me. Allow you to get your feet wet here in hell,” he continued. “And don’t even think of trying your luck on the streets. You want heaven to come back for you? You do what I say.” 

With a final nod to the being in the corner, Lucifer waved his hand as a portal appeared, filling the room with a red iridescent glow. With his hand firmly on my upper arm, he yanked me through. 

[cobrakaisb]

your heart upon your sleeve

summary: it’s playoff season not get-back-with-your-ex season; a continuation of if he wanted to he would

warnings: jackson and fighting

word count: 1.8k

the game was going fairly well so far. the boys were playing well, all of them, especially luca. he had an assist in the first period, which you were extremely proud of. now, it was the beginning of the second period, and the boys were working hard to keep the momentum going. your friend, maggie, did not seem to get that message. “can we go grab a popcorn please? i’m starving,” she begged, tugging softly on luca’s hockey sweatshirt which he begged you to wear. when he pulled out the pout and puppy dog eyes, there was no denying him. 

you looked at maggie, a hint of annoyance on your face. “really mag?��� “please y/n! i cam to this stupid game for you and luca, who can’t take a hint by the way! i mean really? making out in the dorm room yesterday? you could have at least warned me!” she said. you blushed at her words, cringing in embarrassment from the loudness of her words. “okay fine. let’s go,” you agreed, standing up from your seat to follow her to the concessions. as you were leaving you made eye contact with luca, who was sitting on the bench, awaiting his next shift. he furrowed his eyebrows at you, silently asking where you were going. you mouthed the word ‘popcorn’ and pointed to maggie. he smiled, causing you to unconsciously smile too, and nodded his head. 

your relationship with luca was nothing like the one you had with jackson. luca prioritized you. he took the time to consider your feelings and overall worked hard to balance his already busy life with your relationship. at the same time, you made sure to ensure that he knew how much you appreciate him. whether that was helping him study for a test, treating him to dinner (when he let you), or coming to his games, you wanted luca to know that you loved him as much as he loved you. so, when he invited you to his game tonight, the answer was an obvious yes. 

“do you want something?” maggie asked, drawing you out of your thoughts and back to reality. “no i’m good,” you replied, your foot tapping anxiously on the floor of yost. maggie rolled her eyes. “will you relax please? if something happened we’d hear it,” she said, tapping her card against the small square as the guy handed her a large popcorn. you nodded in agreement, following maggie back to your seats. 

“oh my fuck,” she mumbled, stopping slightly before your row. “what?” you asked, looking past her. the sight in front of you caused your heart to drop. jackson and a group of his friends were sitting in the, previously unoccupied, seats next to yours. maggie looks at you, waiting to see what you want to do before making a move. you take a deep breath, squaring your shoulders, and walk towards your seats. you take your seat, the one conveniently located next to one of jackson’s buddies. you refuse to make eye contact with them, or even give them the time of day. instead, your eyes remain intently focused on the ice, where luca was setting up for a defensive play. there’s some shuffling going on next to you, but again, you ignore it. that is until someone’s arm is draped across your shoulders. 

you turn to glare at the boy, coming face to face with jackson. 

“what’s going on babe?” he asks, a cocky smirk on his face. you scoff, shrugging his arm off your shoulders, but you don’t give him a verbal response. jackson nods, giving you a once over. “you still with that pussy fantilli?” he continues, trying to get a rise out of you. “don’t call him that,” you snap, briefly meeting his eyes. jackson smiles, happy that he got you to say something. “what’s the matter? you don’t like it when i say something about your little boy toy. you cheating on him too?” jackson taunted. you shut your eyes, taking a deep shallow breath to stop yourself from doing something you’d regret later. “i’m not engaging,” you said, turning to maggie for a handful of popcorn. “then why’d you say something to begin with?” “i’m disengaging,” you replied, staring straight ahead. jackson huffed, clearly annoyed, but he gave up on trying to talk to you after that. 

until the kiss cam.

you hated the kiss cam. every game, without fail during the break between the second and third period, the kiss cam took over the jumbotron. normally, it wasn’t a problem. but then again, most times you weren’t sitting next to your ex boyfriend. now this shouldn’t have been a problem, but you and luca were fairly private about your relationship. you guys were public, but not to the extent that the whole campus would know about your status as a couple. whoever was running the kiss cam tonight must have been one of those people because they put the spotlight right on you and jackson. 

you vigorously shook your head no, refusing to even look at your ex boyfriend. “it’s just the kiss cam. don’t be a buzz kill,” he mumbled, moving his face towards yours. without thinking, you slapped him across the face. the sound echoed throughout your section of the stands, people stopping to watch what was going on. “don’t fucking touch me,” you shouted, glaring at him while he held on to his now red cheek. as you and maggie were standing up, getting ready to leave, jackson’s hand grabbed your wrist. he leaned in close, about to say something, but he never got the chance. 

“get your hands off my fucking girlfriend!” luca screamed, banging on the glass. he looked furious. his skin was flushed red and his eyes held a murderous look to them. jackson, startled by luca’s outburst, pulled back, releasing your hand immediately. without a second thought, not even taking the time to look at luca, you and maggie hustled down the steps and out the front door of yost. 

as the two of you scrambled to her car, you found yourself constantly looking over your shoulder. finally, just as your hand gripped the navy blue handle, maggie spoke: “relax y/n/n. there’s no one here.” her voice was gentle and soothing. it was exactly what you needed right now. the paranoia of seeing jackson, of having him put his hands on you, was settling in. you needed someone to ground you, keeping you focused on the present rather than the past. “let’s get in the car and listen to the game on the radio,” she instructed, waiting for you to open your door and slide into the passenger seat before climbing behind the wheel. 

together, the two of you listened to the remainder of the game from the car, including the overtime michigan win. “do you want to go? if we leave now we’ll be gone by the time everybody else comes out,” maggie asks, looking over at you. you bite your lip, taking a glance at the ice arena behind you. “i don’t know. i really want to see luca,” you explain. she nods, waiting patiently for you to continue. “can we just stay here? i’ll text luca and tell him where we’re parked so he can meet me,” you continue. “yeah no problem,” maggie agrees, watching as you take out your phone to contact your boyfriend. he responds instantly, saying that he’ll meet you at maggie’s car to take you home. 

about twenty minutes late, seamus casey, another freshman on the team, is knocking on the passenger window. “seamus? you okay?” you ask, looking at the frantic hockey player. “me? i’m fine, but luca isn’t,” he rambles, nervously looking around the parking lot. “what happened?” you ask, grabbing your phone and other belongings so you can get out of maggie’s car. seamus swallows before answering, “he saw jackson.” you hesitate for a moment, your hand stopping before opening the car door. “i know you don’t want to see him, but he’s two steps away from getting kicked off the team y/n,” seamus says. “move,” you instruct, and he steps out of the way, allowing you to exit the car. “i’ll be right here if you need me,” maggie insists and you thank her before following seamus into yost. 

“we tried to stop him, i swear, but jackson has such a mouth on him,” seamus explains, leading you down the halls. “tell me about it,” you mumble, rushing to keep up with the boy. finally, the two of you came to a large crowd gathered in the hallway. seamus grabbed your hand, weaving you between the group of people. “you put your hands on my girlfriend! do you really think i’m going to let that slide?” you hear luca shout as seamus reaches the front of the crowd. you make eye contact with adam, who was standing across the circle from you. 

“and she cheated on me with you! did you think i was going to let that slide?” jackson countered, walk up to luca, pushing a finger into his chest. luca opened his mouth to respond, but you stepped in before he could answer. “enough! he’s not worth it. let’s just go,” you said, whispering the last bit so only luca could hear. when he doesn’t budge you tug on his suit jacket, finally getting to meet his green eyes. “c’mon,” you say, gesturing towards the door with your head. luca takes one more look at jackson before nodding. he intertwined his fingers with yours as the two of you stepped away from the crowd. “hey fantilli, before you go, how is it to have my leftovers hmm?” jackson shouts.

you both freeze. before you can even comprehend the situation, you drop luca’s hand and march over to jackson. “how about you shut the fuck up? you’re such a dick. you never loved me. you treated me like shit. and since you brought up cheating, let’s talk about yours. yeah which girl was it again that had the boyfriend in alpha phi? oh yeah brittany? and he beat your ass too. just go home jackson, you’re pathetic honestly,” you rant. the whole place is silent, everyone watching you. luca’s hand slips into yours, pulling you away from the crowd. but before you leave, you have to throw just one more dig: “oh and by the way, he’s better than you ever were!” jackson steps forward, as if he’s about to come for you, but adam and nolan block his path, easily allowing you and luca to slip out the back door.  

outside, with the fresh air chilling your cheeks, you stop to look at luca. “i’m sorry. that was mean,” you announce, looking at him. “babe what? that was bad ass. he deserved it anyways,” luca assures, lifting your still conjoined hands to his lips, where he kisses the back of yours. you laugh at his words, feeling lighter all of a sudden. “that did feel kind of good actually,” you say shyly. “i’m glad. you deserve to be happy,” he says. “i am happy. with you,” you reply kissing his cheek softly.

[devildom-moss]

Happy 1 year anniversary to your blog! ❤️

Can I request gn! reader on their first date with Meph in nightbringer

hope you have a great day/night ^^

Thank you for the request. I had so much fun with it that I might have taken longer on it and made it a little longer than I should have. Oh well!

1 year anniversary flash request event - SFW

(Mephistopheles x gn!MC)

Prompt 9 - First date

How did this even happen? Mephisto wondered as he opened his car door for you, taking the opportunity to inconspicuously ogle at you as you got in.

You had taken the initiative and invited him out for a drink. His flustered, wide-eyed face confused you as the words tumbled from his mouth: “A-are you asking me out on a date?”

“Yeah, that was my intention,” you shrugged.

“Why, I never –! A human of all the –!” Mephisto mumbled to himself.

“What? I think you’re cute.” You furrowed your brows. “Have you never been asked on a date before?”

“I’ve been asked out before; I just never accepted. I’ve never had any interest before.”

“Before? So, you have interest now?”

“I didn’t say that, you impudent human!” Mephisto crossed his arms defensively, heat rising in his cheeks.

“Well, I suppose you might not be an ideal date anyway – due to the lack of experience and what not,” you teased.

“How dare you! I’m a gentleman. I would make an astounding escort –”

“Who said anything about an escort?”

“Escort on a date! Not a – forget it.” Mephisto mumbled. “I’ll pick you up at Cocytus Hall at 7pm tomorrow night. Wear something nice but comfortable!”

With that, he stormed off – just in time to hide the smile that cracked through his indignant façade.

He brought you to a nice restaurant – not quite as upscale as Ristorante Six, but you knew he had called ahead and leveraged his name (perhaps even slipped some money towards the establishment) to get this reservation. Now that you were sitting across from him, with his handsome face and his dignified suit that somehow outshined his god-awful taste in neckwear, you were starting to feel nervous. He picked up on that.

“Relax. You’re the one who asked me out, after all,” Mephisto sounded annoyed, but he stared at you with a reassuring smile. “You look lovely tonight. Just act like your usual, barely-tolerable self, and you’ll be fine. I’m here with you. There’s nothing to worry about.”

“Thank you for agreeing to go out with me.” You smiled and let out a sigh of relief. Mephisto cleared his throat to distract from the sudden warmth that flooded his face.

Not too surprisingly, Mephisto was an excellent conversationalist. You were delighted when you actually managed to make him laugh so much that he looked surprised as he tried to quiet his laughter – as if he hadn’t expected you to be so funny, or maybe he hadn’t expected to enjoy your company so much.

After dinner, you expected him to promptly take you home, but instead, he offered you his arm and took you for a walk down the street. You didn’t mind, but you asked him nonetheless, “Where are we going?”

“That’s a surprise. You wouldn’t want to ruin a surprise, now, would you?”

A short but rather relaxing stroll later, Mephisto stopped at a small, almost shady-looking shop. After a wonderful dinner, you decided you owed Mephisto the benefit of the doubt and walked into the shop when he held the door open for you. The shop was filled with (shockingly clean and organized) shelves, each one stacked with intriguing knick-knacks and magical items. You could feel the magic just by walking through the doorway.

Somehow, in response to almost anything that piqued your interest, Mephisto had some kind of insight or background knowledge. And you thought Satan and Solomon were the nerds.

“You’re so knowledgeable,” you admired him. “But what made you think to bring me here?”

“You’re studying under Solomon, aren’t you? I figured the wise sorcerer’s apprentice might appreciate something like this. And I’m not that knowledgeable; I did a write up on this place a few weeks ago. I’m a little disappointed you didn’t have the chance to read it.”

You stifled a laugh at his slight pout. “Still, it looks like you retained a lot of that information. That’s pretty cool.”

Mephisto smiled at your praise. “If something in particular catches your eye, let me know before we leave. I’ll get it for you – and no, it’s not any trouble. I’m happy to provide you with a memento of our date. Consider it a reward for being surprisingly good company.”

“You didn’t have to say ‘surprisingly.’”

Mephisto looked around quickly before leaning in and stealing a quick kiss in the middle of the shop. “Consider that one a reward for the adorably stupid faces you make when you’re annoyed at me.”

“You’re awful,” you lied.

“I know.” Mephisto smirked and stole another kiss from you. This time, he lingered on your lips. “Thank you for asking me out.”

A/N: requests are still open for the rest of today if anyone else wants to enter. (rules here) I probably won't get to all of the SFW requests, but I may be able to finish them up tomorrow or the day after.

[klaprisun]

One Sunny Day

(Stardew Valley)(Haley x Female Farmer)

Chapter 30

The rest of the days of summer have finally been nothing but the sun shining down on us. The rain and thunderstorms have all cleared up, just in time for the season to come to an end.

Unfortunately that meant more work for me now that I have to water my crops. A lot of them had fully grown as well, but I waited until the rain stopped to pick them. I have been so busy with the farm that I haven’t had much time to visit Haley again. She has written me a letter reminding me about my hat I’ve left at her place, but I wrote back saying I’ll have to pick it up soon.

This morning I ran over to my mailbox to see if she responded, but instead of a letter from Haley, it was one from Demetrius.

“That’s odd. I don’t usually get mail from him,” I mumble to myself as I unfold the letter.

Dear Danny

Tonight at around 10 o’clock PM, a rare and beautiful event will take place.

The moonlight jellies will be passing by Pelican Town on their long journey south for the winter.

We’re all gathering at the beach to watch. You don’t want to miss this!

See you tonight,

Demetrius

“Did you receive the letter from Demetrius?” a voice calls out from behind me, causing me to jump.

“Give me some warning next time. Jeez!” I huff as I try to collect myself. Leah and Elliot have somehow snuck up behind me. I hadn’t even heard their feet shuffle across the field.

“Looks like she did,” Elliot answered Leah’s question for me.

“You ARE going right?” Leah speculates, raising a threatening eyebrow at me.

“Duh, of course I will. I wouldn’t miss an event as sick as this,” I say as I wave the letter around in the air. I had no idea they had so many cool events in Pelican Town. Grandpa had never told me about any of them when he would visit!

“Alright. We will see you there. Don’t be late,” Elliot points a finger at me and I put my arms up defensively.

                                                     🌻 🌻 🌻

Making sure to not cross Elliot and Leah, I show up a few minutes early to the event. I scope out my surroundings to find the best spot to hangout that has a good view of the water.

There are a bunch of floating candles set up in the water around the edge of the docks. A few people are already here as well like Jodi and Vincent, Penny, Maru, Demetrius, and Mayor Lewis. I walk over to Maru and Demetrius to chat with them about the event.

“The 'Moonlight Jelly'... what a remarkable species! We're very lucky that they stop here on their long journey south. It's unknown why they are attracted to light... very curious,” Demetrius spews out as I approach him.

“I’m so glad I get to experience this. You make it sound magical,” I responded.

“It truly is. You’re going to love it,” Maru chimes in. “ My dad loves to study them every year during their migration. I decided I’m going to help this year.”

“I hope your studies go well. Good luck!” I smile at the two of them. I had noticed Leah and Elliot had arrived and I didn’t want to hold them up much longer.

“Here she is. She beat us here!” Elliot gasps as I run up to them.

“How is that even possible? We were right there in your cabin and we still were beat,” Leah laughs as she replies to Elliot.

“You guys scared me by telling me not to be late. Didn’t want to test those waters so I decided to be early,” I chuckle.

The three of us pace around the docks while chatting. The rest of the town begins to fill up around us, getting good spots along the edge. We notice our path crosses by Mayor Lewis who is intently staring off into the horizon.

“Good evening, Danny, Elliot and Leah. The Moonlight Jellies are close... I already saw one glowing in the distance. Once we launch the candle-boat they'll come up to the docks and say hello,” He explained to us as we got closer to him. He bends down and leans over the ledge of the dock. He could fall in at any time due to him not holding onto anything. I see the candle-boat in question when I take a peak over the edge to see what he is up to.

“I dare you to push him in,” Leah whispers to me.

“No way,” I swing my hands around in denial, refusing to do that to Lewis. As annoying as he can be at times…

“Boooo,” The two of them chant, playfully. I wave them off and look around at everyone along the dock.

Just as I’m taking in everyone’s excited expressions, I catch my gaze veering off to the right towards the beach entrance.

Haley and Emily are making their arrival to the event, dressed in outfits Emily must have made for the occasion. Emily is decked out in glow-in-the-dark fabric made into a hoodie. Her shoe laces are glowing as well, matching her hoodie. She has a few patchwork glowing stars on her shorts as well.

Haley has on a dark blue dress with the same patchwork stars decorated across the body of the dress. She has her hair draped over her shoulders like usual, but there is a glowing headband tucked onto the top of her head.

I watch her eyes scan the crowd and land on me. From all the way over here, I can tell her expression lit up when she noticed me. She immediately starts racing over to my side.

“Long time no see!” She sings out as she comes to a halt in front of me. “Hey Elliot. Hey Leah!” She shoots the two a friendly wave. They both shoot her one back.

“Hey Haley. I like your outfit. I never expected to see you wear something like that,” I say.

“Do you not like it?” she pouts, thinking I meant it derogatorily.

“No, I love it! I didn’t mean to make that sound sarcastic.” That seemed to wipe the pout from her face. She gave me a nod of approval and went back to gleaming brightly.

“We are going to let you two be. We don’t want to third wheel you guys on your date…” Elliot grabs Leah by her arm and starts tugging her away. As they shuffle awkwardly away, they give us a thumbs up and start pretending to make out with the air, mocking us.

“So…this is a date?” Haley questions me, leaning on a wooden post of the dock.

“If you’d like it to be?” I reply with a smirk. I reach my hand out and take hers, rubbing my thumb against the palm of her soft hand.

“Nahhhh,” she rolls her eyes and shakes her head, obviously joking. Making a bold move, I yank her from the post she was leaning on and spin her around into my arms. I wrap around her back, holding her by the waist. She seemed to enjoy that just as I thought she would.

Just as I did that, Mayor Lewis announces he is about to release the candle-boat. The crowd watches as the torch in his hand erupts into flames. He bends down over the edge and places the flame to the wick of the candle. It ignites immediately and he pushes it off into the vast ocean.

Everyone watches in anticipation as the boat sails away with the current. It is such a magical moment with all the candles lit up and floating in the water. It truly feels like Haley and I are the only two in the world right now. My arms are still wrapped around her waist, but she has fully sunk into the embrace. She has her hands clasped onto my forearms and is leaning her head back onto my chest.

“Are you falling asleep?” I whisper in her ear as she seems very quiet and relaxed.

“No but I am comfortable like this,” she whispers back.

Suddenly, a blue glow emerges from the depth of the water. It was a Moonlight Jelly. It wasn’t alone though. The single blue glow was soon followed by what seemed like a million more. I hear Jas and Vincent squeal in joy, and many more murmurs of excitement ripple through the crowd.

There are some big ones, some little ones, but all of them are equally as pretty. They light up the ocean like the stars of the night sky.

“What a way to celebrate the last day of summer,” I whisper to Haley again. I don’t want to disrupt the mood by talking too loudly.

“That’s for sure,” she whispers back.

A couple more minutes go by of all the Moonlight Jellies dancing around in the water around the docks. I hear a few gasps and I start alertly looking around at what caused people to start gasping. My gaze lands on the water right in front of me. The thing that made everyone gasp was a faint teal colored glow. Unlike all of the blue Moonlight Jellies, this one was different. The teal Moonlight Jelly stood out more than all of the others and it was right in front of me.

I take Haley by the chin and guide her gaze down to where I was looking. Just like everyone else, she let out a gasp.

“It’s the Rare Green Jelly!” she breathes out excitedly. She starts squirming in my arms, freaking out over this uncommon situation. “It’s right in front of us!” she squeals with joy.

Soon, the ocean that was brightly lit up with the glow of the Jellies begins to fade away. They all start to submerge back down to the depths of the ocean to carry on their journey south. The last one to go was the Rare Green Jelly that hung out in front of us.

“We’ve all heard stories of the Green Jelly but none of us have actually seen it,” Haley explains to me as the event starts to die down. I watch as Jas and Vincent are hurried home to get to bed since it’s way past their bedtime.

“It's crazy how it was right in front of us,” I replied back, stifling a yawn.

“Someone's sleepy,” Haley says while pinching my cheek. “You sure you can make it back home without falling asleep? You could always come back to my place…?” Haley smirks while twisting back and forth.

“You draw a hard bargain. But I have chicks to tend to bright and early in the morning. I also have to gather millions of ripe crops in the morning due to someone clearing all of the seeds out from Pierre’s for my farm,” I snorted while nudging her shoulder.

“C’mon Dannnnyyy. Don’t make me beg,” she whines as she tilts her head at me, batting her eyelashes.

“Sorry, pretty lady. Duty calls,” I take her face into my hands and place a kiss on her forehead. I see her face turn pink in the faint light of the candles on the water. Everyone on the beach has cleared out now. It’s only her and I still standing around on the dock.

Next thing I know, I feel Haley’s arms grab my biceps firmly. I don’t fight it, but I’m unsure of what she is up to.

“Say hi to the Moonlight Jellies for me,” She gives me a devilish smile and then gives me a hard shove. It took all of her strength to uproot me and get me to fall into the water, but she somehow managed.

I feel myself fall for a few seconds, but the cold waters encase me soon after. I’m completely submerged in the ocean, trying to figure out what just happened. I paddle myself to the surface to give Haley a piece of my mind.

“Haley what the fuck?” I curse at her, somewhat playful but a tiny bit annoyed.

“Watch out,” she says, gesturing to me to move. Doing as she directs, I wade over to the right a bit to give her space. She takes her shoes and headband off and sets them aside. She lines up for a running start into the water, and takes off. When she reaches the end of the dock, she does a dainty little jump and plunges into the water with me. I turn my head away so I don’t get splashed in the face.

“Now we are going to be freezing,” I complained to her.

“Well we are going to be freezing together. You look like you give off good body heat,” she treads over to me and latches onto my side. She wraps her legs around my waist and allows me to hold her back.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” I give her a little playful frown.

“This is what I mean.” She squeezes my bicep, referencing all the muscle I have.

“Fair point.”

“Are you suuure you can’t come back to my place?” She begs again.

“As long as I’m home before nightfall tomorrow. I have to feed my chickens, remember?” I cave.

“Mmhmm. You’ve got a deal,” she swings herself to my front, holding onto me with her arms around my neck.

“Can we go now…? I’m freezing,” I shyly say to her, not wanting to ruin her fantasies of me always being warm.

“Yeah I’m freezing too. I don’t know what I was thinking,” she shivers. Her teeth chatter together as she speaks.

The two of us swim back to shore and hurriedly rush over to Haley’s place. We keep our arms wrapped tightly around our bodies, trying to hold in heat and block the wind caused by our sprint. 

[stellaluna33]

I’ve always disliked the idea that Rory was a pick me girl, most often not people use her conversation with Tristan of all people to prove that she is by using ‘substance’ line. A pick me girl is a girl who will tear down other women for the sake of male validation. Rory doesn’t do that, she especially doesn’t want Tristan’s attention or validation. If anything, she has a not like other girls' mentality, but whose surprised when her mother and town feed into that. That being said, Rory is incredibly cruel to other women, but it's not for male validation It's because she's judgmental just like Lorelei and Emily, it's a trait they all have in common.

Hmm, ok! Thanks for sharing your thoughts! There's a lot here to talk about!

I would agree that Rory does not tear other women down for male validation. She doesn't really care much about male validation in general (the Logan Era might be a slight exception, but Logan is a SPECIFIC guy, and there were other things going into that psychologically for Rory SPECIFICALLY) and would be insulted by the mere idea, haha. In the show, there are boys that like her, because she's the main character of a TV show, but she doesn't usually seek them out. Once she's in a RELATIONSHIP, she does tend to seek approval, but that's because she's a People Pleaser IN GENERAL, not because her boyfriends happen to be Male...

As far as the "not like other girls" thing goes... *sigh* Ok, look. Haha. These conversations are awkward for me, because you probably would have accused ME of being "not like other girls" in highschool. And this RANKLES me, haha! Because I did not put myself in that category. It was the "other girls" who decided I was "not like them," you know? And I guess I wasn't! But WHY should that be shameful?! And my misfit friends and I were probably a bit insufferable about it sometimes when we were teenagers, but that is a defense mechanism. You get told "You're weird" enough times, and you start saying, "Well maybe being Weird is a good thing! Maybe it's BETTER!" And if that's "problematic," shouldn't expecting girls to be "JUST like Other Girls" be problematic too? I just don't think the burden to "support all Women! And don't you dare criticize any of them ever!" should be placed on the girls who got REJECTED by the "other girls!" It just starts sounding like "Conform! Or else you must Hate Women!" "Women" are not all the same! And we shouldn't HAVE to be! I don't think girls should be obligated to like every other girl. Do we expect boys to like every other boy?

ANYWAY, I'm sorry, I'm getting way off track now. 😅 Here's the thing: Rory WASN'T "like other girls." She likes reading and studying and listening to weird music, AND THERE'S NOTHING WRONG WITH THAT! Why is there something wrong with that?? And I know from experience that liking those things generally didn't make you really popular in school! Rory's classmates think she's weird! And she's not heartbroken about it, because she LIKES WHAT SHE LIKES, and if she thinks her interests are "better," isn't that kind of... Human and natural? Especially for a teenager? I just don't consider that a "red flag" or a character flaw, sorry! My goodness, can't I have ONE girl main character of a teen show who was a bit of a misfit instead of a "cool girl?" (I know I'm probably exaggerating, but Rory was one of the only tv characters I could actually RELATE to as a teenager! 😅😭) Should she have to apologize for it?

Anyway, I also would not say that Rory is "incredibly cruel to other women." I mean, this is the girl who went to her highschool MEAN GIRL BULLY and basically said, "If you're going through something, you can talk to me"!!! Like, that is going ABOVE AND BEYOND, haha! Is she perfect? NO! She's not perfect! Sometimes she's in a bad mood, or gets jealous or bitter! It's not great! Neither Shane nor Lindsay deserved her jealous sniping! (And I think Rory, in hindsight, would probably agree! Rory only had nice things to say about Lindsay before Season 4 anyway) She messed up! I have occasionally said things I regret saying also! And when she wrote the critique of the ballet, it was in the specific context of being asked to be more ruthless by her Editor. So she was ruthless. And felt uncomfortable about it later! But "incredibly cruel?" Rory's INCREDIBLY cruel? When there are characters like Blair Waldorf or even, in this very show, Paris Geller??? I just... don't see it!

Anyway... I'm sorry for all of this ranting, dear Anonymous. 😅 I hope I haven't offended you terribly! It's not your fault you happened to hit several of my personal triggers there! I hope you have a lovely day.

[hannahssimblr]

The crying is relentless. All morning and well into the afternoon. It's not constant, but it is consistent, a cycle of heavy, self pitying sobs followed by these silences where I imagine she forgets what she's so sad about, or curses Evan out instead, which, if it were me, is what I would be doing. I can't understand why any person is really worth this much anguish, especially ones that don't wash their hair.

“Ah, Shell,” Jen mutters under her breath, “he’s just a stupid fucking boy, enough already.” 

The brilliant sunlight of early May streaks through the windows and over the pages of our textbooks and notebooks strewn all over the carpet. With the summer exams approaching I have accepted that it’s going to be like this all month, study, revising, shovelling snacks into our mouths and then studying some more until our eyes feel like shrivelled little raisins in their sockets. But I have nowhere else to be these days, so I am happy to spend them on my stomach in the sun with Jen, writing flashcards and highlighting entire pages about chemical erosion and igneous rock.

“Did you see him at school this week?” I ask around the pen jammed between my teeth. 

“Who? Evan?”

“Yep.”

“Unfortunately. With Carlie.”

“Oh, crazy. He moved on quickly.”

She tuts and shakes her head in disgust, “He’s horrible. He has no shame, full on knowing that Michelle can see him shoving his foul slug tongue into Carlie’s mouth, in broad daylight.”

“Mm, nothing good ever happens in broad daylight, does it?”

 There is a bang, crash and wallop as Michelle comes down the stairs and straight into the room. I steel myself defensively, waiting for, I don't know what, maybe for her to start giving out to me or screaming that I need to get the hell out, not that she’s done that yet, but there’s always a chance. I bet she would if she was feeling crazy enough.

But maybe we've caught her at a good time, because instead she looks startled to see me, while also appearing different, more vulnerable than I'm used to seeing her now that the makeup she usually rings her eyes with is absent for the first time since she was about fourteen. It feels risky to look directly in her eyes, but I can't really help myself. It's like some layer has been peeled away, and she's the girl who used to be my friend.

“Um,” she utters, voice cracked and hoarse from crying, and drags the heel of her hand beneath her still dripping nose, “I didn’t know you were here.”

“I can go.”

She hesitates. 

“Let him stay,” Jen grumbles, “He’s just studying, he’s not going to bite you, is he?” 

“Okay,” Michelle says in a voice just above a whisper, and hovers there for another few moments as Jen goes back to flipping through her geography book, no doubt taking nothing in.

“Did you need something?”

“Not really.”

“Alright.”

Flip.

Flip.

Michelle gently clears her throat, “Is it… is it for the summer exams? All the study, like.”

“Yeah.”

“I’ll probably fail mine,” a feeble laugh, “and dad will be thrilled with me.”

“I’m sure he’ll understand, given the circumstances.”

“I don’t think so,” she comes a bit closer, her stockinged feet padding over the carpet, and I don’t move a muscle as she approaches us, afraid to make a nuisance of myself. She perches on the edge of the sofa and folds her hands in her lap. “I think I should probably study,” she comments absently.

“If you want to,” Jen says. 

“I have so much work to catch up on…”

“Well,” Jen spreads out her fingers and gestures to the mess of paper and books on the floor like she’s presenting a gourmet meal, “you’re welcome to join us any time, babe.”

I sense Michelle’s eyes on me but I deliberately keep mine fixed on my book. The last thing I want to do is put her off the idea and then, God knows, get blamed for any and all fail grades she ends up getting.

“Hm, maybe,” she says, and leans to pluck at the corner of one of the English book covers, “I honestly know nothing, I can’t remember any of King Lear, never mind the poetry…”

“All that Shakespeare stuff is Jude’s domain, actually all of it is his, I'm clearly the idiot in the room…”

I pipe up sheepishly, “If you need help going through stuff, you know, I can, but if not it’s obviously fine too.”

“Hm,” she says, and slides to the floor with us, “Maybe. I’ll see.”

Jen gives me a secret smirk. “She'll see,” she mouths, and just like the sneaky wink she follows it with, I have absolutely no idea what she means.

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