#i don’t really know what’s happening but I thought this was funny :)

[gremlinwithacause]

You should have known better. It’s not the first time you’ve been ditched, but it might be the last. Huh. 

You make good money on your work. You’re nothing noble or special. You’re just damn good at your job. Fighting and killing come second hand. You could blame it on your parents. Blame it on working at a slaughterhouse. Blame it on getting picked on and having to fight for yourself. Blame it on needing cash to live. The details don’t matter all that much. You’re a good fighter and a better killer. Someone told you that your need to survive made you different. You don’t think so and you’re tired of hearing it. 

It’s not just the shady folks that hire you. You get plenty of employers of good standing. The adventurers aren’t special. A set in a line of many that want extra hands or extra cannon fodder. You tend to be lucky enough to be the former. You’ve ended up in jail more than once for people like this. Your wealthier employers tend to bail you out. You were valuable enough for the extra investment. Worth more alive, and all that. So you’ve been around a few dozen times. 

Being ditched in the field isn’t new but being half dead is. 

You should have seen it on their faces. You should have known better. They didn’t want you there, but someone thought they needed you. It makes sense they ditched you once the boss went down. 

But damn. They didn’t even watch it happen. Straight for the loot, huh? On some level you respect it, on the other level you’re bleeding out and you can only watch them run away. Not even a one liner? A spit on your body? A single piece of gold thrown on your body and a good “there’s your payment, you filthy animal.” 

Huh. Maybe you deserve it. You never messed with theatrics. Why would you get any? 

Things are fading in and out. Blood loss is always a pain to deal with. It would be easier to let go, you think. You still put pressure on the wound in your stomach and side and breathe through the pain. It’d be insulting if you just let yourself keel over, right? No, you’re just scared. 

“Guess we’re both expendable, huh?” 

You don’t have it in you to startle. The boss that you were damn sure was dead is not that. Alive enough to banter with you. It’s more than you offered anyone. What a sweetheart. 

“Dunno,” you say. “Never really thought of it.”

It makes sense. You’re not a hero. What were the chances of you actually out-living adventurers like the ones that ditched you here? You’re worth more alive, but when is the investment no longer worth it?

“‘S funny,” the boss says. Chatty, you think. What can you do but humor them? “Didn’t think heroes would leave their own behind.” 

“I was hired,” you say. 

“Really?” 

They laugh. Then cough and choke on blood or their own spit. You wait for them to finish their cackling, and then continue to wait for the end. 

“They're always picky with their heroes, huh?” 

Oh boy, the pronoun game. 

“Don’t care,” you say. May whatever higher power there is forgive your temper as you’re dying. “It’s work.” 

“Ah. You’re one of those,” they say. Like they know you. Ugh. You want to finish the job. “I always liked those. Basic motivations are the best. Nothing to second guess.” 

You roll your eyes. You’ve heard it all before. What is it worth now? 

“I tried the whole leader thing,” they say. “Good worshippers are hard to find, you know?”

You don’t. You won’t. 

“Sounds more like a cult.” “Eh. Same thing,” they dismiss. 

“What were you even the god of?” you snap. You can’t help it. This guy wasn’t any more special than you--that is: not.

“Anything I could get my hands on,” they say. “I wasn’t picky. Got enough of something that I became this, though.”

A boss. A few tiers above the usual monsters that you can find, always locked up in some kind of home base. 

“So were you a god or not?”

“No, never got that far. Wouldn’t have lost to you if I did.”

“Sure. Lie to yourself.”

They laugh again, “I like that. Confidence like that is usually up on some pedestal. Good on you.” 

“Yeah. Did me a lot of good.” 

“Did you enough,” they say. “You’re not new at this, must have been going for a while.”

“It’s work,” you repeat. It’s always work. It’s to survive. 

“You want a new job?” they ask. 

You lift your head enough to look over at them. They’re flat on their back. Your spear is still in their chest. It’s what’s keeping them from bleeding out. You know better than to leave the weapon in, but you were distracted by the whole dying thing. 

It’s getting harder to keep the pressure on your wound. Your hands are getting weaker. You’re getting weaker. You’re surprised you’re still awake. And what is this guy talking about? …You’ll indulge it. What else are you going to do? 

“Contract?” you ask. 

“Sure,” they say. 

A silver contract appears in front of you, something you don’t see too often. The consequences on silvers are serious, most people just do physical ones or bronzes. 

You squint to make sense of the blurring letters. 

“Follower? Really? What, are you still trying to form that cult?” you snort. It hurts and you dig your fingers into your skin. You don’t even feel it. 

“Good clerics are hard to find,” they say.

“Hah, and your lucky cleric is about to kick the bucket,” you say. “Sucks to be you.”

“Read it.” 

“Sorry. It gets hard to read with blood in your eyes.” 

“You live. You worship me.” 

You grimace. Sounds like a hassle. But… the idea of continuing to live is like candy. What else is there to do? It’s work.

You sign. 

You’re a mercenary hired by adventurers to defeat the boss. After the battle, they loot the treasure and abandon you wounded. The defeated boss crawls over and says, “Guess we’re both expendable, huh?”

[luveline]

this request may be a bit of a long shot, but would you be willing to write a drabble for mouth of september? maybe she gives the boys a scare either by going out and then not coming home at the time she said she would or maybe she faints from not having eaten enough? totally okay if you don’t want to or if you want to use this as a prompt for something else, mos has just been one of your fic series that i think about pretty consistently even two-ish years later.

anyway have a great day and hope you’re doing well jadey <3 love u

I love you! me writing this actually did feel like a longshot but not cos I didn’t love it and not cos I don’t love u, I hope you enjoy it!! been so long since I wrote this !!🩵 fem! 4k words

cw suicidal thoughts/suicidal ideation

It’s cold tonight. 

You blow on your fingers, feeling them warm, stiffness lanced for precious few seconds. You didn’t mean to walk so far from the house, not while the wind is racing like this. The corner shop just seemed to move around while you weren’t looking. You should’ve asked Sirius to go with you, he has a better sense of direction, even if he would’ve complained the whole time about the shit weather. 

Remus would’ve come and not complained, but he was sleeping at the time and waking him felt cruel. James would’ve come, racing around in Lily’s car, but then he would’ve followed you back into the house insisting on making you some supper or a cuppa or something, and what you’d wanted was to be alone. A bar of chocolate wouldn’t hurt either. 

Stupid travelling corner shop, you think to yourself. Stupid me for fucking losing it. Should’ve just stayed home. Can’t even walk to the shop. 

You take a deep breath. You give the streets a wretched, embarrassed glare and flop down onto the nearest bench. Fuck’s sake. Lost and freezing to death. 

If Sirius were here, if he heard what you were thinking, he’d frown at you with that dark pinch to his eyes and tell you to Stop it, now. 

He’s maybe half of the reason you’re out of the house tonight. Maybe all of it. It’s all complicated and horrible and everyone thinks it’s a bad idea but the thing is that Sirius himself isn’t complicated, he isn’t horrible. He’s kind to you in funny ways, and when you’re together Sirius makes you feel like you’re someone worth being kind too, which doesn’t happen often. 

Your self annoyance fades to something more familiar soon enough. Everything goes quiet, leaving you there with your heart, quick and slow beating, can’t seem to choose, and your cold feet. Your socks feel too tight. 

Your teeth start to chatter. You can’t sit here forever. 

(But wouldn’t it be better? If you stayed? Caught cold?) 

If you get poorly from the cold, you’ll feel miserable from the moment you wake up. You’ll be ill at work, which will make work worse. You’ll have to stay in your room so you don’t get one of the boys sick, and that really would ruin your week. Nothing means anything if you don’t get to see your best friends. 

You gather yourself up and turn toward the street you’d just walked down, determined to retrace your steps. 

In the distance, a familiar shape is jogging toward you. 

“Y/N?” James shouts, sounding as though all the breath in the world has been sucked from his lungs. He doesn’t stop jogging until he gets a few feet from you, where he bends to catch his breath. “Fucking hell!” His head snaps up. “Fuck, shortcake, are you alright?” 

You close the distance. “I’m fine.” 

“Are you?” He forces himself to stand, breathing hard as he grabs you by the wrist. “Are you okay? You scared me so badly.” 

You grab his arm back. “I’m really fine, I’m fine, what’s wrong?” 

“You’re what’s wrong, you aren’t home!” James swallows a lump. “You left a note, you’d be home by seven. It’s nearly ten. Remus rang me in a fit ‘cos he didn’t know where you’d gone, we thought–” James gives you an imploring look, though it’s so so sorry at the same time, you feel your stomach twist into a hard knot. “We thought you were having a bad night.” 

“James.” Embarrassment makes you soft-toned. “I’m really sorry I scared you, but I got lost, that’s all.” You don’t really like to lie, only James seems to need to hear it. “I’m glad you found me. I was worried I wouldn’t get home.” 

James gives a breathy laugh. “Oh, good.” 

You’re pulled into a hug. 

“Sorry,” you say. 

“No, it’s okay.” He rubs your back with force. It feels more for him than you, though you don’t exactly mind it. You can pretend as much as you want that you don’t like it when the boys give you affection, but they know it’s not true, and they know it’s alright to give it to you most days. “It’s fine. Everything’s fine as long as you’re fine.” 

“Fine,” you say. 

He pulls away. “Oh, god. Alright, let’s go back to the house. It’s freezing, you’re not wearing a proper coat?” 

“I didn’t plan on being out long.” 

“No?” 

He takes you by the shoulder to encourage you back the way you came. “Just wanted some chocolate,” you say. 

“I’ll get you some.” 

You both know it doesn’t add up. James doesn’t make you say much else, relieved you’re alright, and you fester in the guilt of worrying him so harshly. 

“Where are your glasses?” you ask. 

“I forgot them in the car.” 

“Where is the car?” 

“Remus thought you might’ve gone to the library, you were supposed to take that Sky-Fi back.” 

“Sci-fi.” 

“Right, the space books. He took it to see if you were walking home, I said I’d come this way, and Sirius…” James grimaces. “Not sure where he went. He was already out by the time I got to the house.” 

“How are we gonna find him?” 

“He’ll come back eventually.” 

You stick close to James’ side, dodging crisped up leaves and following him down the dropped kerb and finally onto a familiar road. “Guess I’ve lived here so long, I should’ve known the way,” you say. 

“It’s alright.” 

You bite your cheek for a second. “I’m really sorry, James, I– I didn’t– is it really ten?” 

“…Aren’t you cold?” he asks softly. 

“I didn’t think about it.” 

“I wish you would.” He pokes his tongue against his cheek. “I want to know if you’re having a bad night. It’s alright if you were. If you need more time, more help, it’s okay.” 

“It’s not like that… not all of it. I was walking to the shops, I swear. Just feel so,” —your voice slips into a colour of shame you despise— “weird sometimes. I’m sorry I made you worry. I don’t know why I keep doing this.” 

“Is this a common occurrence?” 

“Not the walk, just. Just this. Making you worry. I didn’t mean to make everybody worry.” 

“Well, I am worried. When you disappear for a couple more hours than you say you will, it’s scary.” James gives you a shrug. “I love you, I’m gonna wonder where you are.” 

“But–”

“I worry about Sirius when he goes to the pub until who knows when, worry about Lils when she does too many hours at work. I worry about Remus every day, his eyes are worse than mine ‘cos all he does is read,” he says with a laugh. “It’s fine.” 

“I worry about you too,” you say. 

“About what?” he asks, stricken. 

“Remus told me you can pop your knee out from your kneecap when you weight lift. I know you think it’s fun and stuff, but that’s scary.” 

“I’m getting fit!” He rolls his eyes. “Lily likes my abs.” 

“Well I liked you when you were soft.” 

James cackles at your poor fake-flirting. “I’ve never been soft, take that back! You know being captain made me solid as a rock.” 

“James?” a voice calls. 

You look up at the same time. Sirius is sitting on the wall in front of the house smoking; he takes a harsh, quick drag and stabs it out so hard that ash sullies his fingers as he stands. 

“Oh,” he says, blowing the smoke from his mouth quickly, his breath a ragged thing as he bounds across the road to hug you. “Sorry.”

You don’t get what he’s sorry for. “It’s okay.” 

He smells so strongly of smoke it’s like he’s blowing it under your nose, but he’s not so sharp to the touch. You falter at being touched kindly, feeling tension in his back as you curl an arm around him. 

Sirius digs his face into your neck. 

“Hey?” you ask quietly. 

He steps back suddenly, an accusing fist held between your two abdomens. “Where have you been?” he asks, and there’s the sharpness to match his smell, scowl turning his grey-blue eyes to pitch, lashes in a furious tangle. “You can’t do that. You can’t just disappear for hours.” 

“I’m sorry–”

“It’s not okay.”

“She said she’s sorry,” James interjects, “maybe let’s leave it?” 

“Being sorry doesn’t erase the last two hours of us panicking, though, does it?” 

“She got lost–”

“James, it’s okay, it’s–” You shake your head. “Maybe you should go inside to warm up? You’re not wearing a coat either.” 

“I was in a rush.” James gives Sirius a warning look. “I’ll make you a cup of tea. Five minutes and I’m coming back out.” 

James trudges up the garden path to the house. You twist your hands together, staring into Sirius’ face, wanting to see every bit of his anger, keeping tabs on all of it so as not to be surprised. You should’ve known he’d run out of patience with you eventually. He’s had to deal with your awful moods more than anyone else. 

“I’m sorry.” 

“Do you realise how scary it is to worry you’ve hurt yourself?” Sirius asks starkly. 

You flinch. “It doesn’t exactly feel great for me, either.” 

“That’s not what I’m saying.” Still, he softens. You feel like you’ve cheated. “I don’t understand. You got lost? How far away from the house were you?” 

“I don’t know, I was trying to go to Del’s.” 

“You’re not being honest with me, or any of us. It’s not fair. My heart is like a fucking racehorse,” he says, pressing his hand to his chest, fingertips smudgy with ash, “’cos all I’ve thought tonight is that you’d gone off and jumped off of a bridge or something. I know you wouldn’t.” He lets his hand fall. He quietens. It is almost apologetic, how he slows. “I know you wouldn’t. I knew you’d come home. But please don’t make me think about it.”

He’s gone pale in the cold, his hair in twists and tucked haphazard behind his ears. In his thick bomber jacket and his jeans, he could’ve just hopped of the bike, windswept as he is, but it’s the mark of worried hands having pushed his hair back repetitively rather than the weather, though the longer you stand there in the wind, the more tangled it becomes. “I dont get why you’re so determined to be alone,” he says. 

You don’t want to talk about it. When do you ever? More than ever, you’d like to stalk past him and slam your bedroom door, let him know you’re fine by yourself and seething, let him stay ignorant to you as you squirm in a bed you’ve come to hate. How often do you lay there wishing you could be alone forever? It’s not fair to anyone. It doesn’t make sense. They all love you and you feel sorry for them, ‘cos you tricked them, ‘cos you’re nothing worth thinking about for long. 

Sirius won’t stop frowning at you. It makes the drowning feeling worse. 

“I’m sorry,” you say again, hoping this time it’ll stick. “I don’t know what happened, I just wasn’t thinking. I don’t feel very well.” 

“I know.” He scoffs to himself. You relax at the hint of self-deprecation. “It’s not your fault. I’m fucking furious with you but I know you can’t help it.” 

“Sorry.” 

He shakes his head. “I’m sorry. For saying you’d jumped off a bridge, that’s horrible, but you really fucking worry me sometimes and I’m so relieved that you’re okay that it’s making me horrible.” 

“You’re not horrible.” 

“I’m mean.” 

“You’re not.”

“No, I am. You’re the only person who doesn’t see it. Or at least doesn’t say it.” Sirius rubs his face, scraping a stray hair from his nose. “Sorry for shouting. Here,” —he holds out his arm— “let’s have a proper one.” 

He hugs you nicely, no force to it, less lingering smoke. The scratch of his cheek catches yours, his hand at the bottom of your back, your jacket and shirt rising with every sweep of his touch. You press your closed eye to his hair. 

“Why didn’t you come and sit with me or– we could’ve talked. Could’ve just led in bed, doesn’t matter, I would’ve gone to the shop with you.” He squeezes you, pressing his nose to your shoulder. “I can be morbid. We can be two miserable layabouts together.” 

“I didn’t…” You cringe. “Sirius, it’s not on purpose, I swear. I didn’t do it to make you worry.” 

“I know that, Jesus.”

“Sorry.” 

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you’re home.” 

You pull apart as a car turns onto the street. That’ll be Remus. Another for your troupe of worry. 

“What do you think, is he mad at me too?” you ask. 

“Remus?” Sirius gives you another half hug. “‘Course not.” 

And true to form, Remus climbs out of the car with a fond smile. “Hey, where have you been?” His hair ruffles in the wind, scars turned palest purple in the cold. “You need to learn how to tell time.” 

You let him hug you. “Sorry.” 

“That’s alright, let’s go inside though. Have some tea. Did you eat much today?” 

You ignore the question. “Tea,” you say. 

“Yeah.” 

Remus ushers you down the path to the house, Sirius on your other side like bodyguards. 

“Thanks for, uh, looking for me.” 

Remus takes you by the forearm. “We’ll always look for you. But next time, wake me up first.” 

You nod gratefully. “Uh, okay. Thank you.” 

“Stop saying thanks. It’s alright, Y/N. It’s fine.” 

That’s what you’ve all said, but it doesn’t make it true. 

—

James goes home, though he doesn’t want to. “I can stay,” he says over the rim of his mug, half-pleading, wanting you to ask him to. “We can have a sleepover.” 

You insist that you’re really fine, he has work tomorrow, it’s late. When he doesn’t move, you say, “I feel bad enough that you were out looking for me in the cold.” 

Your voice is pathetic and scratchy and he can tell you’re going to cry, they all can, so he doesn’t push it anymore than that. He goes home, and you go to bed, and Remus follows you up a little bit later with a glass of juice and some thick, buttered slices of teacake. 

“You okay?” he asks, climbing into bed next to you where you’re laying down. 

“Fine.” 

“Didn’t eat much today?” 

“No.” 

“Have the juice, at least.” 

You take the glass. 

Between your sorry sips, Remus picks at one of the slices of cake, steals looks at you, though he doesn’t try to hide what he’s doing. 

“Sorry about today. Didn’t mean to worry you.” 

“You can stop saying sorry.” Remus lets his head tip from one side to another. “I can hear it in your voice that you don’t want to say it. Not that I don’t believe that you’re really, actually sorry. But you keep repeating it because you’re worried I want you to do that, and I don’t.” 

“It’s what I should say.” 

“Well, you’ve said it.” Remus turns to you, all bookish and rakish at once, lovely but tired, and he must be giving you a similar appraisal. “I wanted to be your friend the second I first talked to you. It wasn’t guilt.” He shakes his head. Wasn’t ’cos they’d played that prank on you with the shoe-eating goo, spied on you crying in a school hallway, overwhelmed. “I just liked you, and that was without any sort of knowledge of what you’re like. Now that I know you, I couldn’t be rid of you. Truly. I love you, you know that?” He smiles gently. “Even when you need time and you disappear. Please… don’t really go anywhere though, will you?” 

“I won’t.” You decided a long time ago that ending your life wasn’t in the cards. There are terrifying moments, numb ones, blink-and-it’s over ones, where you feel like it’s the only option you have. But it ends eventually, or it sinks into a background to be forgotten until the next time it aches. 

“Are you eating properly?” he asks. 

“Remus–” You shake your head as he brings a hand to your forehead, like he might stroke your hair. “You don’t have to do this.” 

“You don’t like answering, that’s all.” 

“No, I don’t.” 

“I’ve made you talk much more than you would’ve liked to, tonight.”

“I like talking to you. To all of you.” You rest your head on his thigh. “You really are my favourite people in the world, Remus. I wouldn’t… wouldn't give you up.” 

“Good,” he says, stroking your forehead just a few times. “‘Cos we can’t be without you.” 

Sirius finds you collapsing in on one another a little later and rounds the bed to lay on your other side. He doesn’t bother sitting as Remus did, pulling the blankets up and slipping in beside you without worrying about what parts of you are touching parts of him, nor the slip of your back where your shirt’s riding up, nor how warm it is under the quilt. He grabs the end of your t-shirt and pulls it flat over your stomach, before his hand spreads out there, and you realise half-heartedly that he’s hugging you from behind. The room is barely seeable. Remus is nearly sleeping. Your tea cake went uneaten, left stodgy and dark on the nightstand. 

“This okay?” Sirius asks. 

“Yeah.” 

He burrows nearer, rubbing his nose against the back of your neck, then taking a long breath of you. 

“Are you mad?” you ask. 

“Not anymore.” 

You can’t believe that any of them could love you so much as to look for you. That James would want to stay the night, and that he’d let you turn him away. If you had any energy left in you tonight you would’ve done the same to Remus, and then Sirius. James won’t be happy when he finds out they’d slept in the bed with you and left him out, but he’ll forgive it eventually. None of them should care so much about you, what’s special about you? What’s even really good? What’s worth it? 

Sirius breathes behind you. He doesn’t seem scared to touch you, not worried to lay as close to you as your bodies will allow. His heat sinks into you. 

“Know any poems?” he asks, letting you shift into his back as he pushes an arm beneath you, curling, really holding you to him, a spoon of a hug. 

“What kind did you want to hear?” 

Sirius doesn’t answer. You hold still as his hand begins looping over your stomach. 

“I can’t remember anything right.” 

“Can you guess at one for me?” he asks. 

You stare at Remus’ falling chest. You’re lucky to have good friends. 

“I read one a few days ago, a couple of times, it was only a few lines.” You wait. Sirius doesn’t say anything, so you start to relay the poem slowly, stringing the words together as they come. “The world was a… nautilus shell... And the world was a grain of sand.” Your voice is odd, but the lines come to you regardless. “The world was a honeycomb… And the world was a strip of tender bark.” 

Sirius lets his lips warm your neck, asking softly, more touch than sound, “That was the whole poem?” 

You take his hand where it’s against you. “That’s it.” 

He nods. 

The world was a nautilus shell. And the world was a grain of sand. The world was a honeycomb. And the world was a strip of tender bark. You run through the poem again, three times, tripping over strip and tender and bark as Sirius’ breath warms your nape. 

“Please don’t do that again,” he says. 

“I didn’t mean to–” You force yourself to stay still. “I would never do something like that to scare you.” 

“Nobody in this room or out of it believes that you went on your walk tonight to scare them.” His nose tips down your neck. His hand spreads wider over your stomach. It feels so weird, so warm and rigid. It’s the best touch you’ve ever been given, and it doesn’t matter because you’re so ashamed of yourself —you went on your stupid little walk with at least some bad intent, and your friends noticed because they love you when they shouldn’t bother. This is a stain now, something you’ll remember. “But I can’t take it. Do you get that? I can’t take it. James found you two hours ago and I still feel like I don’t know where you are.” 

“Didn’t mean to.” 

“I know, love.” He actually does kiss your neck then, quiet smack of a real kiss. “I know. I know.” His forehead presses to your shoulder as he settles in. “You’re okay. I’m not mad.” 

“Me neither,” Remus croaks. 

You let yourself relax enough to feel tired. Warmth from either side of you threatens to bowl you over. 

“How are you feeling now?” Sirius asks. 

“Fine.” Always fine. They deserve better honesty. “I didn’t want to hurt myself. Jus’… I needed to move, like, go, and I hate this part. I don’t think it should matter that I’m not– that I don’t feel well.” 

“Don’t get upset,” Sirius says quietly. 

“I’m not.” You sound tight. “When I want to be somewhere, it doesn’t make sense that it matters. In the moment, I don’t remember that you…” 

“Love you?” Sirius asks. 

“I know why you were worried, I promise. I don’t live in a bubble. I know I’m selfish.” 

“Not selfish.” 

“It was, though.” 

“You’re thinking about it like we have a problem with what you did, and it’s my fault because I got so mad, but it’s not really that you did it.” His hand curls shy of your breastbone. “I was mad, but– darling,” —you squeeze your eyes shut— “you’re not on trial. You don’t have to prove your way out of this, all we need to know is if you’re alright now.” 

“Not really.” 

Remus gives a half-sleeping mumble. 

Sirius sits up in bed to look at both of you. “We love you. We,” —he gestures between you and Remus emphatically— “aren’t going to stop. No matter how many walks you go on, how many scares you give me.” He frowns at you sympathetically. “We’re not getting any further, are we?” 

“Sorry.” 

“I’m sorry.” He grimaces, dark around the eyes. “I’m a right prick and I’ve made a right mess of everything.” 

“It’s okay,” you whisper, chancing a touch, terrified you’ll be reprimanded for it but knowing, as you know he loves you, that you’re allowed. The tips of your fingers touch his collarbone. Sharp thing. 

He pulls a jib, lips all up and thinned like a smirk gone wrong. “Love you.” 

You must’ve petrified him. He’s never so open with his feelings, even when it’s half-joking like this. 

“I love you, too.” 

He makes another face. Good enough, it says. 

“Make me hot chocolate?” you whisper. 

“Mm, come on.” He pulls you from the bed by your wrists. “Don’t complain when it’s gritty. I’m not skilled as Remus.” 

“Quite right,” Remus mumbles. 

You hug him quickly before you leave. 

[dr-spencer-reids-queen]

Tipping Point

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Word Count: ~1.4k

Warnings: sexual tension, implied smut

Summary: Your aunt signs you up for shooting lessons with Spencer Reid. You get more than you bargained for when you go.

Square Filled: alex blake (2022) for @spencerreidbingo

Author’s Note: any and all comments are greatly appreciated <3

x

Not having a job is really kicking your ass. All you do is stay at home and flip through magazines and shows you’ve already watched. Since your parents died, your aunt has taken you under her wing. The housing and renting market is a joke right now, so you’re living with her until you can go to school. You want to go into her field since you look up to her so much, but the school year doesn’t start for another three months.

So, you’re just trying to pass the time by reading magazines and watching shit reality shows.

Aunt Alex walks downstairs after getting ready for work, and she goes to the kitchen where the full pot of coffee you brewed is waiting for her.

“So, what do you have planned for today?” she asks.

“Well, at ten, I want to cure diseases, and at two, I plan on writing a thesis on String Theory. Why? Do you have something planned? I can see if I can fit you in,” you say sarcastically.

“You’re so funny,” she rolls her eyes playfully. “There’s actually something I want you to do for me.”

“What’s up?”

“I signed you up for shooting lessons. One of my coworkers is teaching the class, and he knows you’re coming. Your appointment is at two.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes. She’s been nagging you to take shooting lessons ever since you moved in with her.

“Aunt Alex…”

“Y/N, listen, your mother wasn’t prepared and look where it got her. I’m not letting the same thing happen to you.”

She’s right. Your father died shortly after you were born so your mom was the protector. There was an invasion one night and she wasn’t able to protect herself against the intruder. She died fighting to save you. Alex sees evil every single day, and it would break her heart if you weren't prepared for the worst.

“Fine, I’ll go,” you sigh.

“Good. It’s at two. Don’t be late.”

“I won’t.”

The morning is filled with reality TV, and the early afternoon is when you prepare to go to this lesson. What should you wear? A dress might be too much so you pick out a nice pair of jeans and a loose shirt. Once ready, you leave the house and head over to the shooting range. You’re not sure who from her team is going to be teaching you. You’ve never met them but you do know them by name. David Rossi, Derek Morgan, Aaron Hotchner, and Spencer Reid. You don’t think Rossi or Hotch will teach you so it has to be either Derek or Spencer.

The shooting range is empty, probably due to Alex’s influence. She wanted whoever is teaching it to focus on you the whole time.

“Hello? Anyone here?”

“In the back!”

You walk to the back and see a tall and slender man putting away supplies. From Penelope’s use of the phrase “Chocolate Thunder” (thanks to Aunt Alex repeating it several times), you know this is Spencer Reid. Spencer turns and you’re immediately floored by how attractive he is. You’ve met your fair share of men and have hooked up with more than one of them, but Spencer is on a whole other level.

This is a man right here. You’re into older men, too. You’re not sure how old he is but he can’t be more than thirty-five.

He walks over to you with a smile. “Hi, I’m Spencer Reid. Alex said you were coming over.” No words are coming out so you just nod instead. “Have you ever shot a gun before?” Again, you can only shake your head. “Don’t worry, I’ll teach you.”

He takes you over to the area where you shoot and shows an array of guns on the table next to it. He picks up the smaller one and hands it over to you.

“Wow, this is heavier than I thought it was going to be,” you chuckle when you grab it.

“Yeah, don’t let that scare you. This is a very easy gun to use. First, safety.”

Spencer takes the gun from you and puts it on the table before grabbing a pair of earmuffs and safety glasses. You look up at him as he slides the earmuffs over your ears, and he looks into your eyes. He briefly looks down at your lips but it was so quick that you could have been imagining it.

“Does that fit well?”

Even through the earmuffs, his voice is like honey. You nod and he moves onto the glasses. He slides them on despite you having full capabilities of doing this yourself. You look down and the glasses slide off your face entirely, and you chuckle shyly. Both you and Spencer lean down to pick it up, and your hand bumps against his.

It was just a bump but that sends shockwaves through your body. Based on how Spencer is looking at you, you know he felt the same. This is different than any fling you had. You’ve never felt this type of attraction toward another man.

“Sorry,” you whisper.

“It’s okay.” He grabs the glasses. “Let me get another pair.” Spencer leaves and returns with a smaller pair. “Are those okay?”

“Better,” you smile.

“Okay, take the gun and turn the safety off.” You pick up the gun and flip the little switch. Spencer steps closer to you, so close that you can feel his body heat behind you. Butterflies flutter in your stomach but you try to ignore them. “Here, hold it like this.”

He reaches around you and fixes the way you hold the gun. He has to press himself closer to your back, and you silently thank Aunt Alex for setting this up for you.

“Am I holding it right?” you ask.

“Yes.”

His breath is hot against your neck, and you swear you can feel your panties dampening a little bit.

“Now what?”

“Shoot.” You aim at the target in front of you and shoot three times, all of the bullets not hitting the target but on the paper outside of it. “Okay, next time, don’t close one eye. That actually doesn’t help.”

“Okay,” you chuckle. “Sorry.”

“It’s okay. Try again. This time, try to aim for the heart.”

You aim at the target but freeze when you feel Spencer’s hand sliding up your arms and down to your waist. How can you think about this when all you can think about is his hands on your body? You shoot the target twice, both of the bullets hitting the target. However, one hit his leg and the other hit his hand.

“Better?”

“Yeah, a bit. Are you sure you’ve never shot a gun before?”

“Never.”

“For a first-timer, you’re doing a lot better than other newbies.”

“Thanks,” you smile. “I just have a really great teacher.”

Spencer spends the next thirty minutes teaching you how to shoot multiple different guns. By the time you’re done, the sexual tension is high. Spencer steps back from you and you regret not failing more just so you can feel his body against yours.

“Okay, I think that’s enough for today. I do think you might benefit from one more lesson. Are you free next week?”

“Yes,” you say too quickly. “I mean, I can make that work. Just let me know.”

“Great.”

Spencer removes your glasses and then your earmuffs while staring into your eyes the whole time. The tension between you two is like a boiling pot of water. It’s going to overflow any second now, and you can’t wait to see what will happen when he snaps. He looks down at your lips and you lick them slowly, and that seems to be the tipping point.

He grabs your waist and pulls you into him before slamming his lips on yours. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck to deepen the kiss. He hooks his hands under your thighs and lifts you up with ease, setting you on the small table so you’re up to his height. Spencer slides his tongue along your bottom lip, but he kisses his way down your jaw to your neck instead of licking inside your mouth.

“Alex is going to kill me,” he mutters between kisses.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” you moan.

Spencer pulls back and kisses you once again. If you knew this was waiting for you, you would have taken lessons a lot sooner.

x

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[mattsobvimyfav]

roommates (matthew sturniolo)

pt 18 -

I swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his question. My chest tightened as I tried to put my chaotic thoughts into words. “I don’t know, Matt,” I admitted, “I don’t want a label. Not right now. It’s too soon, and everything is too messy. I just… I want to live and have fun. I don’t want to be tied down to anything right now.”

His expression faltered, and he looked down at the floor, his shoulders slumping. The defeat in his posture stung, but I couldn’t lie to him.

After a long moment, Matt let out a deep breath and walked over to me. He dropped to his knees in front of the couch, resting his head on my knees. The sudden vulnerability in his actions caught me off guard.

“Okay,” he said quietly, his voice softer now. “If that’s what you want, I get it. But can we at least start over? Forget all the shit that’s happened between us. Pretend we’ve never met and start fresh. No history, just a clean slate.”

I stared down at him, my heart twisting. His forehead was pressed against my legs, and his hands rested lightly on my knees, like he was grounding himself in the moment. There was no anger in his tone now.

I reached out hesitantly, brushing a strand of his dark hair from his face. “You really think we can do that?” I asked softly.

He lifted his head slightly, his eyes locking onto mine. “I don’t know,” he admitted. “But I want to try. I’m tired of all this fighting, of all this back and forth. I just want to know who you are without all the baggage. I think you’d want that too. I know I'm a dick to you but Ill try if you do.”

His words hit me hard, and I nodded slowly. “Okay,” I whispered. “Let’s try.”

Later on that night, Matt emerged from the bathroom, his hair damp from washing his face and dressed in a simple pair of plaid pajama pants and a black t-shirt. He paused when he saw me already tucked under the covers, my legs curled up and my phone abandoned on the nightstand.

I glanced up at him, feeling oddly shy after the emotional rollercoaster of the night. “Hey,” I said softly, shifting a little to sit up against the headboard. “Before we go to sleep, can we… I don’t know, maybe watch some of your YouTube videos? On the TV?”

Matt’s eyebrows lifted slightly in surprise, but a small smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. “You want to watch them? Again?” he teased lightly, moving toward his side of the room.

I rolled my eyes, but I couldn’t help the grin that crept across my face. “Yeah, I do. They’re funny, and it’s kind of cool seeing that side of you and your brothers.”

Matt nodded. “Alright, yeah. Let me grab the remote.” He picked it up from his desk and switched on the TV, pulling up their channel.

As the familiar intro music played, he climbed into his bed across from mine, propping himself up against the wall. He glanced over at me “Just so you know, I’ll deny this if you ever tell Nick or Chris I actually enjoy showing these to you.”

I laughed, settling into my pillow as I focused on the screen. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

We sat in comfortable silence as the video started, the room filled with the sound of the triplets’ banter. Every now and then, Matt would glance over to see if I was laughing, his own smile widening whenever he caught me giggling.

We watched them for about an hour before I fell asleep to the sound of Nick’s yelling. Matt shut the TV off before going to bed himself. 

The next morning, I woke up to the soft sound of Matt shuffling around the dorm room. The sunlight streaming through the blinds made me squint as I stretched under the covers, my body still tired from everything that had happened the night before.

“Morning,” Matt said, glancing over at me from his desk where he was scrolling through his phone. 

“Morning,” I mumbled, sitting up and running a hand through my hair. “What time is it?”

“Almost ten. I figured you needed the sleep, so I didn’t wake you,” he said with a small shrug. “Nick is coming later today, so we’ve got the morning to ourselves. You hungry?”

I nodded, rubbing my eyes. “Starving.”

Matt set his phone down and leaned back in his chair. “Wanna hit up that diner off campus? The one with the pancakes the size of your head?”

“You had me at pancakes, they’re the best.” I said with a grin, sliding out of bed.

“Waffles are better but whatever you say,” he teases.

After quickly getting dressed and throwing my hair into a messy bun, we headed out. The diner was bustling with students, but we managed to snag a booth near the window. Matt ordered waffles, while I went with the classic chocolate chip pancake stack.

After breakfast, we decided to walk around campus. The crisp fall air felt refreshing, and the leaves crunching beneath our feet made everything feel so serene. At one point, Matt stopped near a bench and pointed out a squirrel attempting to drag an oversized acorn up a tree.

“See? That’s me trying to carry the team during practice,” he joked, earning a laugh from me.

“Oh, please. You’ve got Chris for that,” I teased back, nudging him with my elbow.

We eventually made our way back to the dorm, where Nick and Chris were unloading a bunch of camera equipment into our room.

“Perfect timing,” Nick said, spotting us. “We’ve got a new video idea, and you two are helping.”

Matt groaned. “Do I even want to know what it is?”

Chris smirked. “It just a normal Q&A. But first we need to talk about what happened last night” He turned pointing at me

We walked out of my dorm and down to his.

Chris closed the door behind me and crossed his arms, standing a few feet away. “I don’t want to drag this out,” he said, breaking the silence. “I think we both know things got… messy.”

“Messy is putting it extremely fucking light,” I said, my voice tinged with bitterness.

He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line. “Yeah, it got ugly. But I don’t want to keep holding onto it. You don’t deserve to be caught up in all this, and honestly, neither do I. I screwed up, you screwed up—we both did.”

I sighed, crossing my arms as I looked at him. “So what are you saying?”

“I’m saying let’s put it all in the past,” he said firmly. “No more talking about what happened, no more drama. We move.”

I studied him for a moment, trying to gauge how serious he was. There was a weight in his expression, but also a sense of relief.

“Can you actually do that?” I asked, tilting my head. 

Chris gave a small, humorless laugh. “I’m trying, aren’t I? Look, I don’t want to keep feeling like this. It’s exhausting. And I know you don’t either.”

I exhaled, the tension in my shoulders easing. “Fine. Clean slate. But no more games, Chris. No more complications.”

“No more complications,” he agreed.

We stood there for a moment, an unspoken understanding passing between us. 

“Well, we should get back,” I said, pushing off the desk.

“Yeah your right” He agreed as he opened the door holding it for me.

The boys prepared to film their YouTube video. Our dorm had been transformed into a mini studio—ring light glowing in the corner, the trusty camera perched on a tripod.

Nick sat on the couch, on his phone, while Matt tinkered with the camera. Chris stood by the window, cracking jokes to anyone who would listen.

“Alright, we’ve got everything set up. Nick, you’re not bailing early this time, so no excuses,” Matt said, adjusting the frame on the camera and glancing over at his brother.

“I wasn’t going to bail,” Nick replied, rolling his eyes. “It’s always me you guys blame.”

“Because it’s always you, dickhead” Chris said, grabbing a pillow and tossing it at Nick.

“Guys,” I interjected from my spot on Matt’s desk, “Focus.”

“She’s the only responsible one here.” Chris said with a grin.

“Responsible?” I teased.

“Alright, alright,” Matt interrupted, clapping his hands. “Let’s get this started before Chris decides to monologue again.”

The three of them plopped onto the couch, their banter filling the room as Matt hit record. “What’s up, everyone!” Chris started, leaning forward into the camera with his trademark grin. “We’re back with another video because you guys won’t leave us alone about doing a Q&A.”

“Seriously, the comments are getting aggressive,” Nick joked, making a mock-serious face.

Matt grabbed his phone and read the first question. “‘Which triplet would win in a fight?’”

“Oh, that’s easy,” Nick said, pointing to himself.

“Yeah, right,” Chris countered. “You’d trip over your own feet before the fight even started.”

“Excuse me, I did hockey in elementary school, thank you very much,” Nick shot back, earning laughs from everyone in the room.

The video carried on with its usual chaotic energy. They answered questions about their favorite childhood memories, and embarrassing moments.

Every now and then, the camera would pan to me for a “neutral party” opinion. “Y/N,” Matt said, pointing dramatically, “settle this: who’s the funniest?”

“Oh no,” I said, shaking my head with a grin. “I’m not getting involved in this one.” I started mouthing and pointing that is was Nick.

“Exactly,” Nick teased.

“Smart,” Chris said, leaning back and smirking. Not even noticing I said Nick “She knows it’s me, though.”

As they wrapped up the video, the energy in the room didn’t fade. Instead of packing up, the triplets decided to order pizza.

Nick leaned back on the couch, scrolling through TikTok while Chris flipped through the Q&A submissions they hadn’t gotten to. Matt moved the camera aside, turning to me with a rare relaxed smile. “So, what’d you think? You’ve been here for the filming. Did you like it?”

“Definitely,” I replied, laughing. 

Nick glanced over at me with a sly grin. “Hey, Y/N, you wanna help me edit this? I could use a second opinion.”

I chuckled, shrugging. “Sure, why not? But if this crashes and burns, don’t blame me.”

Nick grabbed his laptop and plopped down on the couch, gesturing for me to join him. Chris and Matt were already halfway out the door, arguing about who knows what.

“Don’t take forever!” Nick yelled after them before turning back to me. “Okay, let’s make this somewhat coherent.”

We settled in, and Nick opened the editing software. The raw footage was hilariously unfiltered—Chris making ridiculous faces at the camera, Matt tripping over air while setting up, and Nick accidentally recording a full minute of his shoes.

“Wow, professionals,” I teased.

“You’d think we’d fucking have this down by now,” he replied, laughing. “But honestly, It’s like endearing stupidity.”

We sifted through the clips, trimming the dead air. Every now and then, Nick would pause a frame to make a sarcastic comment.

“Look at Matt’s face here,” he said, pointing to a still of Matt mid-sneeze. “Should we make this the thumbnail?”

I burst out laughing. “Absolutely. Nothing screams ‘must-watch content’ like that.”

As we worked, the conversation drifted. Nick started talking about his time at school, leaning back against the couch cushions as he clicked through the timeline.

“It’s weird sometimes,” he admitted, his tone a little more serious. “Like, having this YouTube thing is great, but it's weird.”

I tilted my head, watching him. “What do you mean?”

“We are growing.. And fast, a couple days ago we had fifty thousand and we are already at seventy thousand. People on tik tok post our clips and it's giving us mad clout. Literally 20 thousand people subscribed to us within a fucking day?” he said, shrugging. “I mean, I love doing it. It’s fun, and it’s ours, you know? But I don't know if it'll work out or if this is just our fifteen minutes you know?”

“That makes sense,” I said softly.

He glanced over at me, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I always make sense”

We kept editing, falling into an easy rhythm. Nick’s sharp sense of humor and relaxed demeanor made it fun, and before we knew it, the video was coming together.

By the time Chris and Matt returned with the pizza, Nick and I were laughing over a particularly absurd moment where Chris accidentally hit himself in the face.

“What’d we miss?” Matt asked, setting the boxes on the coffee table.

“Pure comedy gold,” Nick replied, smirking. “You’ll see soon enough.”

Chris raised an eyebrow. “I don’t trust that.”

“Trust me,” I said, grinning. “It’s perfect.”

As the smell of pizza filled the room, Nick saved the project. 

After the video upload was set in motion, the energy in the room began to shift to that cozy, late-night vibe. Chris stretched dramatically, standing up from his spot on the couch.

“Alright, we’ve done enough hard work for one day,” he said, grinning. “Time for some Mario Kart to prove, once again, that I’m the reigning champion.”

Nick scoffed. “You’re only ‘reigning champion’ because Matt doesn’t know how to drift properly.”

Matt scoffed. “I do know how to drift. You just cheat.”

“Sure, kid,” Chris said, walking over to set up the Nintendo Switch. “Y/N, you’re playing. No excuses.”

I laughed, pulling the blanket tighter around me. “I’m pretty sure I’ve only played Mario Kart, like, twice in my life. Prepare to be disappointed.”

“That just means you’ll beat Matt,” Nick teased, earning himself a glare.

We all settled in, controllers in hand, the screen lighting up the room as the familiar Mario Kart music played. Chris picked Donkey Kong, Nick went with Yoshi, Matt picked Luigi, and I chose Princess Peach because her kart was pink, and I figured I might as well go all in.

The first race was chaos. I somehow ended up in first place for about five seconds before being hit with a red shell—courtesy of Chris, who couldn’t stop laughing about it.

“Welcome to Mario Kart, Y/N,” he said, smug.

By the second race, I’d started to get the hang of it. Nick kept trying to coach me, yelling advice like, “Use the mushroom now!” or “Don’t fall off Rainbow Road!” which, of course, I promptly did.

“See? This is why Rainbow Road is banned from tournaments,” I joked, earning a round of laughter.

After several rounds (and Chris smugly retaining his so-called championship), we called it a night for gaming.

“Alright, what now?” Nick asked, leaning back against the couch.

Chris shrugged. “We could watch another movie.”

After some debate, we decided to make ice cream sundaes instead. Chris pulled out a pint of cookie dough ice cream from the mini-fridge, while Matt went to the dining hall to get toppings like sprinkles and chocolate syrup.

Once we all had our sundaes, we returned to the couch, the conversation flowing easily. We talked about everything—funny childhood stories, embarrassing moments, and plans for the next few weeks.

“Okay, but seriously,” I said, between bites of ice cream. “Who decided that Rainbow Road was a good idea for beginners? That map is evil.”

Chris chuckled. “It builds character.”

“Or trauma,” Nick added, making us all laugh.

By the time we finally started winding down, it was nearly 2 a.m. Chris had fallen asleep sprawled across the floor, while Nick was half-asleep on the couch. Matt looked over at me.

“Told you tonight would be fun,” he said quietly.

I smiled back. “Yeah, it really was.”

I snuggled into my pillow and watched some tik tok on my phone before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning, the sun peeked through the blinds as we all stirred awake. The room smelled faintly of leftover pizza, and the energy was slow and lazy. Nick was the first to get up, stretching and groaning about his drive back.

“You guys better FaceTime me later,” he said, slinging his bag over his shoulder. “And, Matt, don’t be an idiot.”

Matt rolled his eyes. “I never am.”

Chris snorted. “Sure, you’re not.”

Nick pulled me into a quick hug before heading out. “Take care of these two,” he whispered jokingly. “They’re a lot.”

“Don’t worry, I’ve got them under control,” I replied with a grin.

Once Nick was gone, the dorm felt a little quieter, though the buzz of the morning kept us moving. Chris left to go take a shower in his own dorm. That left Matt and me alone in our dorm.

Matt leaned against the wall, eyeing me thoughtfully. “So, uh, today’s a special day for the team.”

I raised an eyebrow. “What makes it special?”

“It’s ‘Bring a Girl to Practice’ day,” he said with a smirk.

I laughed. “That sounds ridiculous. What, like a ‘Take Your Daughter to Work’ thing?”

He shrugged. “Kind of, but it’s more fun. We get to mess around a bit, and honestly, some of the guys’ girlfriends are terrible skaters. It’s hilarious to watch.”

“And you’re telling me this because…?” I trailed off, eyeing him suspiciously.

“Because you’re actually good at skating,” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck. “And, I don’t know, it might be fun to have you there. Plus, I need someone to prove that I’m not the worst skater on the ice.”

I tilted my head, pretending to think. “Hmm, tempting offer. So, I’m supposed to just show up and skate circles around all these girls?”

“Exactly,” he said, grinning now. “You’ll make me look good.”

I rolled my eyes but couldn’t hide the smile forming. “Alright, fine. But if you embarrass me, I’m walking off the ice.”

Matt chuckled. “Deal. Practice starts at 2. Be ready to go.”

The rest of the morning passed quickly as I got ready, excited but slightly nervous about what I’d gotten myself into. Skating was something I hadn’t done in a while, but I had a feeling it was going to be a fun afternoon.

As I zipped up my jacket, a sudden thought struck me like lightning. Charlie! Why hadn’t I thought of her before? She’d love something like this—and it’d be hilarious to get her on the ice.

Without a second thought, I darted out of the dorm and ran straight to Chris’s room, knocking frantically on his door.

Chris opened it, his hair wet, clearly just out of the shower. “Yo, what’s up??”

“I have a favor to ask,” I said, leaning against the doorframe to catch my breath.

His eyes narrowed in suspicion. “What kind of favor?”

“Bring Charlie as your girl to practice,” I blurted.

Chris stared at me for a moment. “You’re joking, right?”

“Nope,” I said with a grin. “It’ll be fun! She’s never been on the ice before, and you two will have a great time.”

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “I was going to bring Katie.”

I crossed my arms, the grin slipping from my face. “Seriously, Chris? You’re still seeing her after everything?”

He groaned. “It’s not like that. She was just going to come for fun.”

“Well, now Charlie is coming for fun,” I said firmly. 

Chris looked at me for a long moment before shaking his head with a small laugh. “Fine.”

“Perfect!” I said, already texting Charlie to get ready. “You won’t regret this, I promise.”

By 2 PM, Charlie and I were walking into the rink, both decked out in black leggings, cozy leg warmers, and fitted Lululemon zip-ups. Our outfits were sporty but cute, and we were feeling confident as we laced up our skates.

Matt was already on the ice, passing a puck back and forth with one of his teammates. When he saw me, he skated over, smirking. “Not bad. You clean up alright for practice.”

“Flattery will get you nowhere,” I teased.

“Really? Cause I remember differently?” he said, offering me his hand to help me onto the ice. 

I scoffed and smacked his hand away from me, skating past him as he laughed.

Charlie wobbled a bit as Chris helped her onto the rink. “I’m going to die,” she whispered, clutching his arm.

Chris laughed, steadying her. “You’ll be fine. Just keep your knees bent a little.” 

“Alright, Matt,” I said, turning to him as we skated toward the middle of the rink. “You’ve seen me skate. You trust me, right?”

Matt scoffed, skating a slow circle around me. “Nationally ranked or not, you still scare me.”

I smirked. “You’ll survive, promise. Plus, I’ve been dying to teach you something cool instead of just watching you skate in circles.”

“Alright, fine,” he said, finally stopping in front of me. “What’s the plan, sweetheart?”

“A lift,” I said, my grin widening.

His brows shot up, and he gave me a skeptical once-over. “A lift? Like, one of those Dirty Dancing-style moves?”

“Sort of. But skating.”

“Are you trying to kill me?”

“No,” I said, shaking my head with mock seriousness. “Trust me, if anyone can do the lift, it’s gonna be you.”

He groaned but relented. “Alright, fine. But if I drop you, it’s on you for thinking this was a good idea.”

“I won’t let you drop me,” I promised. “Now, come here.”

I skated closer and showed him how to position his hands—firmly around my waist while keeping his elbows slightly bent for control.

“I’m getting dejavú,” he laughs, and I can hear the smirk on his voice as his hands tighten around me.

I roll my eyes. “The key is to keep your core steady and your legs moving. I’ll do most of the balancing; you just have to lift me up and keep skating forward.”

Matt sighed, adjusting his grip. “If we end up in the hospital, you’re explaining this to the doctor.”

“You’ll be fine,” I said, rolling my eyes. “Ready? On three. One… two… three!”

With surprising ease, Matt lifted me off the ice, his hands steady as he held me up.

“Holy shit,” he muttered, glancing up at me. “You’re light as fuck, that was easy.”

“See?” I said, laughing. “You’re a natural.”

He started skating forward, his strides cautious but controlled. I balanced effortlessly, throwing my arms out for effect.

“Alright, showoff,” he said, smirking as he glided across the ice. “Don’t get too cocky up there.”

“Cocky? Me?” I teased.

As he set me back down gently, Charlie stumbled over with Chris trailing cautiously behind her. “Seriously? You guys are doing figure skating routines now?”

“Jealous?” I shot back, adjusting my leggings.

“Please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I can barely stay upright. I’ll stick with Chris.”

Chris smirked at me. “He didn’t drop you, huh? Impressive, Matt. You might have a future in this.”

Matt grinned. “Told you I’ve got skills.”

I laughed, nudging him playfully. “Alright, Matthew. Let’s see if you can do it again without turning us into a video on barstool.”

By the time practice ended, we were all laughing and out of breath, and Matt had officially mastered the lift.

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[sbcdh]

You know where the word cocaine comes from? Its Quechua. Just the name of the damn plant. I think it was 1971, maybe 72. I dunno- 

Could you start at the beginning?

Huh? Yeah, sure. Course. Uhh. Lets see…

Take your time. 

Woof. Lets see…I started in uhhh, 72. Some tiny little bottle-rocket firm sweatin for talent, head broker was this big red fatass named Ron Spade, hell of a guy, but the place got bought out by Bear Stearns in 73 when the shit really hit the fan. It was a rough time to be on a trade floor. IRS just put out the whole hypnoeconomics thing. Half the big firms were runnin’ around with their hair on fire, the other half felt invincible. Every day was a party. Party party party. 

Was that your first interaction with hypnostimulants? 

I guess. Its funny. First guy to give me quori was a cop. 

You mean an agent of the FDA? 

No no, like an old fashioned NYPD beat cop. Met him in the bathroom at Pink during a bender. Moron was so faded he thought I was his informant. Just gave me a phial. 

And you tried it?

Not right away no. To be honest I thought it was kinda faggy. Sorry. Its just what I thought at the time. The shit was sparkly, you know? What kinda drug comes in phials? Shoulda known something was up. 

Would you say hypnostimulants were popular at the time? 

At the time? Depends what you mean by popular. People didn’t know about that shit yet. You heard stories, dudes shooting up in the woods upstate, gettin found with their eyeballs exploded. It was early days, ya know? But like, that didn’t happen. That was urban legends. You know who was actually fucking around with the early stuff? Accountants. 

Accountants?

Yeah, you know, the bookkeepers. See,  I’m really just a plumber. I move money from one pipe to another pipe. But instead of wrenches and sprockets or whatever, I use charm. Its pretty easy if you ask me. Imagine if you could just tell water where it already wanted to go. You’re water’s best pal. Nah. It was those nerds in the basement, the spreadsheet guys that figured out how to expense shit so the IRS couldn’t get ya. Those were the fuckers who really dove in. 

What got you using regularly? 

Same shit as everyone else. Makes the job easier. 

How so?

You can feel the money in their pocket. Its like, I dunno how to describe it. Its like…Its like, a turd sitting in a hammock. You can feel how the money bends everything around it. You can see it, smell it. You can hear it over the phone. You can’t ignore it. Shit is nuts. You take enough, and its like you can’t see anything else. Or. No. Its like…You see that you don’t need to see anything else. Money is everything. You’re money. I’m money. Its all just rivers of money flowing through everything. 

By 1973 you were a regular user yes?

Regular makes it sound normal. But yeah I know what you mean. “Regular user.”  76 was the sweet spot. The drugs were good, but the regulators hadn’t stepped up yet. You and some buddies could set up in a club bathroom with nothing but a blindfold and a pile. You ever seen a stock floor with a headfull of that fancy government shit? 

Would you like to discuss the raid? 

No. Not really. 

I understand you were the only one in a sub-emmanation state when Hypnoregulators arrived on the scene. 

I don't want to talk about it. 

Very well then, my associate will be happy to take you to prison as per the agreement you signed. 

Alright alright, Christ. 

Please. In your own words. 

From what I understand, you pulled spade outta bed. Got a confession and everything that morning. 9 fuckin AM, and 200 IRS agents come busting in the doors. I was in the bathroom seeing shit. It's marble lined, lots gold filigree. All that jazz. Special made. Listen. I'm serious about the stock floor shit. Whatever you guys have, it's different than what we had back then. I mean, the shit was still cut with cocaine. A stock floor wasn't a stock floor, it was like…

The raid, please. 

I'm getting to it! You gotta know this shit okay? I need you to understand what you goons fuckin wrecked. It was perfect okay? A garden of Eden . Ripe fruit. Everything just works. You don't have to worry about shit. You're a hunter, a killer, the great fuckin god pan, and the floor is your field of delights. It's like being a beating heart, like being struck by lightning. You can feel the sun in your pocket, and how it's all flowing through everything. And then you fucks showed up. 

It was cold. I felt it first. Like I just threw the biggest party, and mom and dad were coming home early. But you know what I saw? You know those Chinese dragon dancers? Or, lions, or whatever they are? You know how there's two guys in the costume? I saw a dragon, a beast with eyes like the sun, teeth dripping gold, a bunch of IRS suits holding its pelt on their shoulders like you carry your baby home. 

Your statement alluded to some additional information. 

Yeah…there was something else… I dunno how to describe it. The fuckin…eyes, like the sun. Thats how you feel when you're on this shit. You're seein’ gold. I looked into the dragons eyes, and it's like, it's like I saw me. Like I was the dragon, and I was looking at me. Or…no. I was the sun. I was looking at myself. It was like, in that moment I knew something. I learned something. 

What exactly is that?

I dunno. It doesn't fit into words. But like. You aren't regulating shit. 

I'm sorry? 

Yeah. All this shit. The dragon. The field. The dancers. It's all just the sun.

[wastemee]

i think that i would die

jimmy grant (?) + fem reader

content warning . noncon/dubcon , toxic relationship , painal , barely legal reader

note: very unedited!!!! I’m lazy this is bad

When your eighteenth birthday has finally come , you had never been happier. You’re an adult (in the eyes of the law , at least)! Late night clubbing and cigarettes , here you come. Although you don’t have much friends , at least you have your trusty ID on you and your car (which is really your parents). College is definitely an option , your parents would provide you the money if you asked. But for now , you’re just working at some job that’s mundane and boring. The only reason you go is because your parents have connections , got you a job so you can buy all the stuff you could ever want. Given it’s in your paycheck budget.

Nothing or anybody interesting happened to catch your eye during your shift , until a few months ago. Your now boyfriend , Jimmy. He’s tall , handsome , and although he’s a bit dark , he’s yours. If your wish was to get an extremely morally gray boyfriend who definitely has personal issues , you won the lottery.

Your family doesn’t approve , but who would? He has very.. “controversial” opinions and strange comments on modern things that he claimed , “I didn’t have in my day”. His thoughts on feminism are bleh. Whenever you ask for him to elaborate , his response is always something like , “This word has gone to shit” or “Women think they have so much power”. He has very traditional beliefs about women , he still thinks that the only place women are needed is the kitchen and on their male partners dick. And honestly thinks you’re an idiot for still dating him.

Dating is a funny word to him. He wouldn’t consider your relationship ‘dating’ , he just likes you because you’re young , conventionally attractive , and a little bit naive. If he told you the roof said gullible on it , you’d look up because you trust him that much. Fresh meat. That’s what you are. You’re barely legal , what more is there to like?

He has you tag along with him to get togethers with his former coworkers , people he was working with in space! Amazing. He went from working in space to fucking and dumping girls from eighteen to twenty. When he first told you about his former job , you couldn’t believe him. He’s a sleaze , a sleazy astronaut.

Curly , his best friend , is chatting it up with him in his dirty apartment. Stubble frames his nice skin , lips curled up into a grin. He’s cute. But in a dog kind of way , not like a grown man. He has nice , blonde hair and his eyes are full of promise and kindness , unlike his best friend. Anya’s a young lady with sad looking eyes and a shaggy haircut , who for some reason , seems a bit uncomfortable with Jimmy. She doesn’t say much , Jimmy told you that. He also said she was extremely incompetent and utterly incapable of doing anything on the ship , but he says that about a lot of people. Then there’s Daisuke , who is just a ball of joy. Jimmy seems irritated by his painfully optimistic behavior whenever he interjects in conversation or talks.

Any idiot knows that if someone talks to you about another , then obviously they’ll talk about you as well. Unfortunately , you don’t. Nothing could’ve prepared you for all the things you found out Jimmy says about you when snooping through his phone , and his little friend doesn’t even say anything. Usually if someone were to call their girlfriend an idiot , or ‘meat’ , the average person would feel disturbed. But Curly shrugs it off with no reprimands for your boyfriend’s icky comments.

And of course , when Jimmy found out about your sneaky little habit , he was pissed for sure. A quick slap to your face , or shoving his dick down your throat when you definitely don’t want it , obviously does nothing for your behavior. Instead of forcing your head down on him , maybe fucking you so hard you feel like your guts will fall out could fix your behavioral issues.

He’s really pushing the limits of his flimsy bed frame with the way he thrusts into your ass , one hand on the headboard and the other gripping your already bruised hips. Pained moans slip out of your throat and into his hot room’s space , stubby nails scratching against the cheap wood. “Jim— Jimmy—“ you barely manage to gasp , tears pricking at your eyes and your stomach churning from both the pain and the unfamiliar feeling of him tearing into your body. He ignores your pleas , only pressing your face into the headboard harshly.

He groans under his breath , gritting his teeth and burying himself into you , chest pressed against your back like he’s trying to merge your sweaty bodies together. All he can think about is the way you clench around him and squirm like a wounded animal , and it’s the only thing keeping him going. The thought of molding you into what he wants and dumping you on the side of the street back at your house after he loses all interest in you makes his head spin and his dick hard.

“Please,” you whimper , pained tears rolling down your face and soaking into his dirty sheets. Your teary eyes squeeze shut , because if you look at him , you might just hurl all over yourself *and* the pillows. His hand moves from your hip and to your warm face , nails digging into your puffy cheeks and forcing your face to his. He doesn’t even need you to open your eyes and see his face when he’s fucking you like an animal , rough and hard.

“It’ll be over,” Jimmy mutters , hot breath making contact with your face and making your nose scrunch up instinctively. Cigarettes and booze , it sickens you. “ ‘cause you’ll shut up and take it , right? Let me cum in you without a word?” His words are harsh and teasing in a way. Teasing you because he knows you’ll never say no , teasing you because no matter what your friends and family say , you’ll let him do whatever he wishes.

Callously hands drift down to your tight throat , squeezing lightly. Not enough to kill you , but enough to make you feel light headed and sick to your stomach. Your hand overlaps his , urging him to take his rough hand from your windpipe. Listening to you is the last thing he’ll ever do.

All of this banging you against was practically foreplay , and his orgasm is the main event of his rape-y affection. He moans through his gritted teeth , hips meeting yours and spewing his seed into you , not bothering to pull out or check up on you with a simple , “You okay?”.

Just because you’re used to it , doesn’t mean you like. It definitely doesn’t mean that.

Jimmy’s hands slowly fall from your neck , lips pressed against your temple and his lips curled up into a cruel smirk. “Shit,” he murmurs into your ear , knocking against your head with his fist. “Think I’ve emptied you all of you’ve got. Don’t think there’s anything in here”. He chuckles , voice just as condescending as ever. You’re starting to think he’s right. Maybe there isn’t anything in your head , not anymore , you wouldn’t doubt it. From hopeful and optimistic , to drained all in the span of a few weeks.

You’ve made your bed , and now you must lie in it. For however long Jimmy deems fit.

[vulpixisananimal]

[A:3 C:60] (Odile)

(. . . . . .)

(You had kicked everyone else out of Ramos’ room as Dr. Gina Joy did his work. Your group had probably been giving him more work than he had all week, gems. . .)

(You stood nearby as the doctor checked every part of Ramos’ body. You had your notebook out, taking notes whenever Gina talked. But, in honesty, you were more looking at your past notes, to calm yourself.)

(. . . . A couple months ago, your notes on mind craft started. Your notes on Ramos. It was your distrust of Ramos.)

(Why would you trust them, back then? You had met them just that day, and you had seen what happened to Siffrin because of what they did. You remember the first thing you ever said to them. You found them when they were recovering, and you had a moment alone.)

(“Do you know how to hide a dead body, Ramos?” You had asked. And they answered honestly, “No, I don’t. Why?”)

(And you replied simply. “I do.”)

(It was a simple threat. If they harmed your family, your people, those who you would give the world for, they’re dead.)

(. . .)

(You regret it, now.)

(Gems, that makes two then. Two people who you thought would backstab you, and two you were wrong about. And now they're dating! Ha!)

(. . . Ha. . .)

(. . . Once Ramos was better, you can apologize.)

>>>

(Bonnie)

(Soup n’ sandwich. You couldn’t get more boring with your brunch, but the doctor said so, so here you are. Boring old soup n’ sandwich. . .)

(. . . You nibble at the sandwich. You weren’t hungry.)

(Is ‘Oz gonna be okay?)

(You dunno, they said something about a fight in ‘Frins brain, right? And, and ‘Oz. . .)

(. . . You remember when you first met ‘Oz. You were going to where ‘Za used to work, met ‘m, seemed okay, smelt weird. You ran off for mint, few minutes later. . .)

(No that wasn’t it!)

(Huh?)

(It was th’ market!)

(Oh, yeah. ‘Oz was disguised, took you, but they weren’t in control, was bein’ controlled. They apologized a lot for that)

(. . . You wish you met ‘Oz a nicer way.)

(Yeah. . . You wanna know more about their gardening. They knew a lotta ‘bout gardening, and you wanted to know to get nice, big, juicy veggies! Getting all dirty and finding worms!!)

(Heheh! Yeah!! You could also ask about, uhm, uuuuh. . . Oh!!! What ‘Za was like!)

(Boooooriiing you KNOW what ‘Za is like. No you could ask about uhm, uh. . .)

(Heh, outta ideas?)

(Shut up!)

>>>

(Isabeau)

(You tried not to bounce your leg as Siffrin lay curled up, head down in your lap. They were hidden beneath one of their many hats. Who knew who was fronting, but you don’t think it really mattered at this point.)

(. . . Complete ego death.)

(That’s what Gina and Odile hypothesised anyway. The doctor had gone back to the medhouse to do what he could, but apparently all Ramos needed was, time. Time to rest, recover, and to piece themself back together.)

(Ha. . . Funny thing about time, huh. You gently pat Siffrins hair. A very, very funny thing about time. You found Sif not long ago chucking their dagger out the door. They tried to loop back. They DID loop back. But, whatever kinda checkpoint system they had, it was too late. After that they curled up on you. . .)

(. . . Your buddy. . . And your partner. . .)

(Why couldn’t life be simple again? You liked just swapping jokes with Sif, letting him take all the blankets when you shared a bed, eating together. You liked studying for the big exams with Ramos, always so anxious, always getting great grades. You liked going on jogs, you’d be done after a few miles and they could go for more. You liked wrestling with them, even though you always won.)

(. . . That's what Change is about huh, breaking something, killing something. You both changed. You returned to Jouvente to find that yourself and Ramos were, different. You were more confident in who you are, and Ramos has changed into who they wanted to be.)

(You really wish you could have been there, though. You should have seen how anxious they were about doing good, always asking to study and train with you. You should have helped them with more inside stuff than outside. You should have said a proper goodbye. You should have done a lotta things. . .)

(And someone else took advantage of the fact you didn't. Reach. Out.)

(So, you, reached out.)

(You talked to them, asked what was going on, why they were doing this. . . You were worried for them. And, you got through you them! They felt terrible, and wanted to fix things but. . . But for that fucking archeologist in their head!)

(Seeing your buddy, your best friend, your bestie, morphed into a sadness. Seeing them hurt, seeing them trying so hard, reaching out to you. You couldn’t imagine what it must have been like. . .)

(. . . You hold Sif a bit closer.)

>>>

(Mirabelle)

(You breathe in. . . And, out. . .)

(It was the next day and you had gone on a walk. You know it’s a bad idea, you know it’s reckless, and unnecessary, and, and just stupid. But, you needed to go on a walk. A walk out of the city gate and into the woods.)

(You breathe in. . . . . And. . . Out. . . . .)

(That’s where you are now. A small clearing, away from the city, looking at a little rabbit sniffing around the clearing. You were here because you were still afraid. You were afraid of not being good enough, strong enough, brave enough. Perci could read minds and was an ace with those swords. Merlon could explode waves of sadness with a snap. With Ramos, Ramos like they are right now. . .)

(. . . You looked at the little rabbit. It’s, it’s alright to do this, right?)

{. . . IT WILL NOT HURT. IF IT FEELS WRONG. BRING TREAT NEXT TIME.}

(O-okay, okay. Okay. Okay. You breathe in, and, hold out your hand sign, staring down the rabbit! You used SOOTHING RESTFUL SONG!)

(The rabbit was frozen in time.)

(You let out a breath, you smell sugar, c-change. . . O-oh that. . . You felt a surge of cold within you, that took a lot of energy, but, it worked. . .)

(. . . Does, d-does, it get, easier?)

{. . . YES.}

(Thank you. . . You, walk towards the rabbit, and clap your hands, unfreezing the rabbit. It bolts off into the woods.)

(. . . You sit down in the grass. You could do it. If you met them again, you could do it.)

(. . . Oh Ramos.)

(Once everything calmed down in Jouvente, you just had to talk to them. To tell them just, how proud you were. They made mistakes, but, they’re working to fix it. They got the confidence to change their body, and the next thing was to change their mind, to get more. . . Confident.)

(This kind of change of mind was. . . Not what you had envisioned.)

(. . . Ramos is going to be okay. They had to be okay, they will be okay! So! Since they're going to be okay, you needed to train up to fight historians! Right?)

{RIGHT. IT WILL NOT BE EASY.}

(Yeah. You know. You stand up. Will frozen time be enough, you think?)

{JUST FOCUS ON YOUR TARGET. CHANNEL YOU EMOTIONS FOR THE STRONGEST ATTACK.}

(. . . That's why sadness like you can do that easily, right?)

{. . . YES.}

(Hehe. Maybe you should fight instead.)

{. . .}

(. . . S-sorry, that was a joke.)

{HA. HA.}

>>>

(Pétronille)

(It was the next day.)

(And you were feeling more useless than ever.)

(Ramos went under two days ago, and since then everyone had been doing their part. Be it moving their limbs so their body doesn't get crabbed up, helping them eat, drink, all that. Right now you were doing your part by staying home while the others went out for supplies.)

(. . . Change, dammit.)

(You were making yourself busy, cleaning the place up, dusting, all that. There were a bunch of random trinkets. Pictures, a compas, binoculars, random bits of brass, candles. . .)

(And the urn.)

(You paused for a second, staring at it. . . Change, you hope that wherever they are, it's a nice afterlife. You woulda loved to meet Eri, someone who'd defend the city in their old age. Someone who'd take a random kid like Ramos off the street.)

(. . . You wish you had someone like that back then.)

(Holding onto that little boat for dear life, little sibling still asleep, waves throwing you around. Finally making back to shore, and stumbling into Bambouche.)

(The people there were all so kind to you. But it was still just you, and Bonnie. You got a job, and Bonnie got a school. You got a house, a small house, more like a shack, but it was yours.)

(. . .)

(. . . Will, this house not have an owner, soon?)

(When Ramos recovers, you gotta give them a big hug. They helped save Bonbon, they asked a god for help AND IT WORKED! They helped reassure you. Crab that's not even mentioning they saved your mind at the inn.)

(From now on, if someone messes with Ramos, they mess with you. You're welded. No getting out that, Rams.)

>>>

(Siffrin) {Mal Du Pays} <Null> |Asterion|  [Loop] [(Saffron)]

[. . .]

[Your room. Your own headspace. Up the favor tree, past the canopy, and there you were. A treehouse. Looking out to the distance, the sights of the black sand beach were instead replaced with the house. That same house, still frozen in time.]

[(. . . Well?)]

[What.]

[(Do you feel proud?)]

[No! I don't feel blinding proud!]

[(But isn't that what you wanted?)]

[(The single sound mind in an endless sea of idiotic sailors. You who guides them to a happiness that you can never reach. Who reaches out, yet flinches away.)]

[. . .]

[(Tongue tied? Let me.)]

[(You regret it, but you know it was right. You know even if you didn't mean it, you finally have the trainee out of the way. You could finally rest easily knowing they don't have the host under their claws.)]

[(Because really! Who would believe that the host just falls in love with the trainee so fast! At the drop of a hat! At one little comment! No, no no no, the trainee is using him to get accepted in, obviously.)]

[(That's what you think, isn't it?)]

[. . . . . .]

[I don't want to think that anymore.]

[(So you'll join the idiots?)]

[YES! YES I'LL JOIN THE IDIOTS!!]

[I'LL JOIN ALL THE IDIOTS AND BURY MY HEAD IN THE SAND! I'LL LET RAMOS LIVE THEIR LIFE. KISS MY STARDUST. I'LL LET ASTERION DO WHAT HE WANTS EVEN!]

[AND THEN WHEN WE'RE STABBED IN THE BACK I'LL JUST TELL STARDUST I. TOLD. YOU. SO.]

[(wow, you really-)]

[Shut. Up.]

[I'm leaving.]

[(Leaving?)]

[Yes. Leaving.]

[And I'll come back when everyone's sane again.]

[(You know that'll never happen.)]

[Good.]

[sirenesolace]

SOLAR RETURN CHART 2024!!

Solar return charts usually last until your next one BUT because the year is almost over, i wanted to look at some of the predictions my chart indicated😸 some of them were WILD so hold on tight!!

DISCLAIMER: I am NOT a professional astrologer and these are just OBSERVATIONS I am doing purely for having fun!! My aspects or placements may not turn out like yours so don’t worry 💕 These observations were made thanks to several already written posts on here about solar return charts, my personal experience and some researches😽

HAPPY HOLIDAY ❄️☃️

————————————————☆★!!

VIRGO RISING: starting with the rising sign. I read on here (I’ll try my best to tag the creators), that the year you have Virgo rising on your solar return chart, will one of your busiest years, and BOY WAS I BUSY. I started college (as indicated with my packed 9th house) and every time I thought I could relax there was a new assignment to do or notes to take for a class. I was practically drowning in homework.

SATURN + NEPTUNE 7TH HOUSE: because I was so busy all the time, i barely had time to really form any romantic relationship even tho I daydreamed about it a lot (Neptune). I was rejecting people + dates left and right, because I was busy but also I am very inexperienced with relationships: so I was sorta scared of diving into them. (Saturn representing blockage and fears in the house of relationships). Another interesting point was me manifesting and visualizing a relationship with a specific man (Neptune)

9TH HOUSE STELLIUM: I not only started college this year, but I also traveled a lot! A lot of my travels were done by plane this year. I went to a whole new country, and visited some family in another country.

4TH HOUSE LORD IN THE 9TH: the 4th house sign is Jupiter, and it’s placed in the 9th house; because I am going to college in a new country, I moved away from my home country. I’m already settled in and I absolutely LOVE the city I’m studying in😸! The people there are so freaking sweet and nice!

SUN + VENUS IN 11th HOUSE: I made sooo much friends this year and I’ve gotten so much compliments 🤭 I also became so confident this year, and that reflected in my reality. Compliments from strangers were so common this year. People would literally walk up to me and tell me the most unique compliments. It wouldn’t be the 11th house if i didn’t talk about social media. I started posting so much more on my socials (which is funny because before my solar return I took a social media break). I gained so much followers and overall focus on posting + creating content. Also I took manifesting seriously this year and gotten so much of my desires.

CHIRON 8TH HOUSE: I avoided having intimate relationships so much this year💀 Not necessarily a bad thing for me, but it’s very paradoxical knowing that I was wishing to have it so bad. I honestly was very avoidant and kinda scared to be intimate because I never experienced it AND before I can be intimate, I have to truly love someone intensely. That didn’t happen so I’m actually glad I wasn’t intimate with anyone. The solar return chart will run all the way to 2025 until my birthday (July 12th) so who knows 😛

JUNO 21°, 1ST HOUSE: I kid you not, a stranger that saw me at my hotel (while on vacation in a foreign country) asked my mom for my hand in marriage 😭😭 my mom speaks little English so he google translated what he needed to say to my mom💀 Juno in the 21st degree makes it interesting because it’s linked to Sagittarius: languages, foreign countries and long distance .

MOON 5°, 1ST HOUSE: I read on here (pls help me tag the creator) that planets at a 5° signify change. The moon is linked to menstrual cycles and because 2024 was a leap year, there was a change in my cycle. I also became better at regulating my emotions (I started meditating, doing breath work and Yoga) and became better at transmuting them so I could persist in my manifestation instead of having break downs about my reality.

LEO MERCURY IN 12TH HOUSE: I DID ACTING!! One of the things I manifested for myself. I did theatre and I had so much fun playing the character. The ugly side was that I was extremely drained from doing homework, coming late from rehearsal and I was barely sleeping + eating (literally had a breakdown multiple time and I was hopping they would kick me out the show). One of the directors (FUCK THAT BITCH) literally didn’t care fr and acted like she did. It’s a relief my mom came to visit the week before the big show and stayed with me till now. I was well fed and had so much energy because of it. Show went extremely well and my cast members kept mentioning how much the audience always were more responsive when I was on stage, so that made me so happy that they loved it🥹 One thing is that I’m never joining the theatre club again. It’s extremely demanding with my time and as much as I enjoyed acting, what I went through wasn’t worth my sanity😭 The next time I will be acting, I know it will be film acting instead because i didn’t enjoy theatre acting that much.

VIRGO AURA CONJUNCT ASC: this one was super interesting. People kept telling me you give off the vibe of someone who’s super intelligent, organized, confident and focused on her study. The word “aura” at the moment is very well known to mean “someone who radiates a lot of power/confidence” and people have told me I do radiate that; because of it I’ve gained a lot of suitors and admires (men and women).

PLUTO 5TH HOUSE: This one is gonna be a STRETCH but, I think Pluto here kinda explains me feeling burnt out about theatre 😭 the 5th house does govern this so I think it makes sense. 5th house also governs crushes and casual relationships, and i tried to avoid these as much as possible this year. I will say that I did have at least 1 crush this year which was super exciting knowing that I haven’t had one for 3 years. He acted like a “know it all”, was not a gentleman, did nicotine (one of my biggest turn offs) and when I finally did want to make time for him/ tried to reciprocate his feelings (because he literally loved me from the first time we met💀), he kept giving me mixed signals. I take a mixed signals as a “No” so I immediately stopped giving him any attention after that.

I hope you guys had as much fun reading as I had fun making this😽

[cigarettesaftersae]

02 i'll like you - My World

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･ Series: reo mikage x f!reader | contains : fluff, angst, jealousy, academic rivals, fake dating

new year, new classes, and reo mikage, a disgrace to your pride and ego

-

The air was still, save for the faint wisp of a breeze that whispered through the schoolyard. A quiet hum of chatter filled the space as you stood there, unnoticed by the others.

“Nagi Seishiro? Oh, you mean that kid with the white hair?”

“The one who’s always sleeping?”

“Yeah. I heard he just games all the time. Kinda a bum, don’t you think?”

Their words floated around you, but your mind raced faster than you could process. You stood frozen, the sting of their judgment hitting harder than expected. Images swirled in your mind, fragments of thoughts and feelings painting a confusing picture.

“…Y/N? Don’t tell me you zoned out again?”

“H-huh? No, no! I didn’t!” you stammered, trying to collect yourself. “I just… didn’t expect him. So, what do you like about him?”

The question slipped out before you could stop it, but deep down, you already knew the answer wasn’t going to be easy to hear. Your heart clenched, the faint ache of something unspoken making it hard to breathe.

“Well…” Yuna began, her cheeks flushing with a rosy hue. “I was at the convenience store, and, um, I didn’t bring enough money. He just paid for my things. He was so nice and generous. I know everyone thinks he’s lazy, but… it’s like love at first sight.”

Your stomach sank, but you pushed it aside. Smiling brightly, you grabbed Yuna’s hand in encouragement. “That’s… That’s wonderful, Yuna!”

“R-really?” she asked, her own smile widening.

“Of course!” you assured her.

Yuna’s excitement only grew. “Well, in that case… do you like anyone? Come on, there has to be someone!”

You laughed nervously, shaking your head. “Pfft, as if. I don’t like anyone.”

“Oh, I know that look,” Yuna teased, her curiosity piqued. “Tell us!”

Mira joined in, grinning slyly. “Come on, spill it!”

Cornered, you blurted out, “Uh… um, it’s Reo Mikage! You know, purple hair, charming…?” He is not charming at all.

Mira raised an eyebrow. “The Mikage kid, huh? Not a bad pick, but, uh, you do realize every girl is after him, right? And Naomi? She’s all over him.”

“Haha… yeah,” you laughed awkwardly, hoping the topic would drop quickly. But the weight of the situation pressed heavily on your chest.

Back in class, you barely paid attention as the teacher droned on. You twirled a pen between your fingers, staring at nothing, stressed about everything—Nagi, Yuna. It was all too much.

“Psst.” A folded note slid onto your desk. Opening it, you read the bold, red-inked scrawl: Y/N, I NEED YOUR HELP!!! – YUNA :P

Suppressing a laugh, you glanced up to see Yuna giving you her best pleading expression. The amusement didn’t last.

“Is something funny, Y/N?” the teacher’s voice cut through the air. You jumped. “Maybe you’d like to share with the class?”

“Uh—no, sir. Nothing’s funny.”

“Then you must be paying excellent attention. What’s the formula for this problem right here?”

Panic rose. You didn’t recognize it—despite studying all night. Just as you were about to crumble, a voice chimed in.

“It’s the quadratic formula: ax² + bx + c = 0.”

You turned to see none other than Reo Mikage, his smug expression making your blood boil.

“Thank you, Y/N,” the teacher said sarcastically, emphasizing your name in a way that only made you cringe further.

Later, you groaned in frustration as Yuna tried to apologize. “If you hadn’t passed that note, none of this would’ve happened!”

“Sorry, sorry!” she laughed. “How was I supposed to know the teacher was lurking?”

“It’s whatever,” you sighed. “What did you need help with, anyway?”

“The quadratic formula,” she teased, stifling a giggle.

You glared at her. “I swear…”

“Okay, okay! Joking! But, um, actually… I want to join the game club. You know, since Nagi’s in it.”

Your silence stretched for a moment. “Do you even play games?”

“Uh… I played Roblox with my little cousin once?”

You buried your face in your hands. “You’re joining because of Nagi.”

“Maybe. Okay, yes! I can’t help it!”

Sighing deeply, you relented. “Only because I love you. Fine. I’ll help.”

Yuna squealed, pulling you into a tight hug. “You’re the best! Can we start today?”

With the last class ending, unlike walking home with Yuna or staying after school for club activities, you’re staying after school for club activities WITH Yuna to help her out with your crush. And that was how you found yourself dragging Yuna to the club after school. You open the door to the club room, filled with tables of ongoing rows of computers, outlets here and there, some members playing League, and most importantly, there was no Nagi Seishiro. Which kind of made you sigh in relief.

“He’s not here…” Yuna mumbled, disappointed.

“He sometimes comes late,” you offered, trying to cheer her up. “Come on, let’s meet the co-leader so you can join.”

Sitting through her interview was an experience. The co-leader, a stereotypical nerd with thick glasses and a bowl cut, “Now last question, d-do you play genshin impa-”

“Do not finish that question.” You warn. “And Yuna don’t even answer it.”

“Isn’t it that one cool Chinese game?”

“Ah! so you know about it” He excites

“I just told you not to finish that question,” you grumbled as he lit up at Yuna’s response.

Before the conversation could spiral further, the door creaked open. Both you and Yuna turned instinctively. There he was—Nagi Seishiro, focused on his phone, his white hair catching the dim light.

Yuna’s eyes sparkled, but yours darkened as you spotted someone following behind him. Reo.

When had they even become friends? And why did it feel like your entire world was slowly unraveling?

note

.

.

.

the genshin thingy was a joke guys ive been playing it since day one I'm a d1 pro at it

[fiveredlights]

also I now have so many questions about the DAUD AU world that I don't know what to do with them. if a DAUD performs really well in the other universe does that do anything for them in their home universe?? What if they do really poorly? is there a system in which they are allowed to stay in the alternate universe?

Has a DAUD for vcarb/rb/alphatauri/whatever ever been part of one of redbulls mid season driver swap/promotion/demotion shenanigans?? is that even allowed?? rb still run three cars as allotted for being the designated team but they run 3 drivers from their normal universe and red bull steals the DAUD for their second car?

thank you for enabling me to talk about The DAUD AU

before we begin i very quickly have to solve the problem of benjamin’s DAUD program being one race only versus matilda’s DAUD program bring a whole season by saying in 2030 the FIA changes the program that drivers have to stay for a whole season and everyone agrees that it’s fine for teams to run three drivers for the season because as callan says, the DAUDs are usually shit!

okay now onto your very good questions. usually DAUDs are reserve/junior drivers and if they do well in the program, usually teams will move them up into the seat but it’s not like a direct correlation. sometimes DAUDs can do really well but they don’t end up with a full time seat 🤷‍♀️ like how winning f2 doesn't always guarantee a f1 seat.

but it helps your case massively if you do well which is why people attempt the DAUD program as a way to get into a f1 seat. that’s probably the main reason why benjamin does the DAUD program, he’s in the RB junior team and needs to make a name for himself.

matilda does the DAUD program because she hates her teammate (devon jackson when i catch you) and ferrari won’t fire him because idk he’s like super rich (pay drivers have hit ferrari in 2048) so he sees it as a way to escape for a season.

(also she’s running away from someone like callan but we don’t need to get into that. matthew doesn’t like her in the beginning and i wonder why …)

if they do really poorly there’s leniency depending how far forward/back they went (eg. drivers who go back 20+ years almost never do well so nothing happens) but if they went to a similar time period and do very badly they will almost always get dropped from their teams. like if you were from 2024 and get sent into 2025 and you DNF in the race you are unfortunately probably gonna get kicked out.

DAUDs aren’t allowed to stay in the alternate universe permanently because of *waves hand around* universe somehow not liking it BUT if you win the race/championship you get a special little universe time travel bracelet that allows you to travel between your home universe and your alternate universe whenever you wish. so matilda is absolutely travelling back and forth for the sole reason to annoy matthew and callan.

there’s a whole thing where callan’s like you don’t want kids after knowing matilda and max just sighs super loudly and is like “you must be really stupid if you don’t think daniel considers you two as his weird adult children. i knew i would be stuck with you two when i started dating daniel. be so serious callan.”

okay so the whole Red Bull/RB/DAUD swap is such a funny and great thought because red bull are absolutely doing crazy shit like that. below is the craziest possible option i could think of.

in 2035 in the old habits/glitter on the floor DAUD verse i think RB/red bull attempt this crazy driver thing, where the RB DAUD does incredibly well for the first race but then does like mediocre for the rest and of course red bull are immediately like well with results like that we gotta get them in the main team!

the race before the summer break, the 2nd red bull driver contracts appendicitis on the friday. red bull call on the RB DAUD to replace them, he beats matthew for that race and red bull are like okay you're staying for the rest of the season. i don't think you can give someone appendicitis but there's obviously going to be news articles on red bull giving appendicitis to the 2nd red bull driver as a way to get the RB DAUD into the seat.

everyone starts petitioning the FIA to stop red bull from doing this, lawsuits are launched, there's a full on civil war between teams, everyone in red bull and RB are walking on eggshells, and to top it off the after the 2nd red bull driver recovers they refuse to drive the RB so they quit midseason and then we go into summer break with five cars between the two teams and only four drivers.

RB didn't run the 3rd car in the race before summer break, so obviously now daniel has to find a driver for the rest of the season. he doesn't want to pull up any of the drivers from the junior team because they are not ready and honestly he's still holding a grudge against red bull for stealing one of his drivers behind his back AGAIN. he is teetering between also quitting mid season and calling andretti up being like hey you wanted a f1 team right??

matteo jokingly says daniel should drive the 3rd car, daniel is like i can't drive because of my hand. he's trying to figure out if he can call matilda again but ferrari won't let her drive. then max is like well i can. everyone turns to the door and max is like well it is not like i am doing anything else.

daniel thinks he's joking but then realises he is very much not joking and he's not going to look a gift horse in the face, shoves max into the factory to do seat fits etc. everyone in RB agrees to keep it hush hush because red bull would throw a fit if they found out max was replacement driver and swap the DAUD for max.

matthew catches wind that max is the replacement, attempts to get himself demoted so he can be teammates with max, callan throws his phone out the window before anything can happen.

summer break is over and RB haven't announced who the replacement driver is so everyone assumes they're abandoning the DAUD program/3rd car. no one suspects that max is the driver when he walks into the paddock, but when FP1 starts and people see the 3rd car with 33 on it everyone promptly loses their shit, daniel and max have the biggest shit eating grin on their face, christian is having a mental breakdown down at red bull, red bull shareholders are pissed, matthew is still trying to get himself demoted and on top of that FIA places a temporary ban on driver swaps mid season to deal with the lawsuits/petitions.

so then it turns out that the DAUD who was once thought to be a generational talent maybe wasn't that good at all because the first race back he hits matthew and causes him to retire. a fluke maybe. nah he hits callan in the next race. red bull come to the startling realisation they are stuck with this guy for the rest of the season. someone googles how to give appendicitis to someone else.

adding salt to the wound, RB finish above red bull in the WCC, callan wins the WDC and matthew quits red bull and the FIA give red bull a massive fine because what they did was illegal and outside of the regulations etc. red bull agree to sell RB to andretti at the end of the season and daniel has never ever been happier. this is what he wanted all along.

max wins the last race, we finally get the daniel, max, matthew, callan podium line up. max retires again, matthew quits red bull and goes to andretti with daniel as TP. matteo also joins andretti, we get the oops all matt team and mostly everyone lives happily ever after.

matilda visits at the end of the season and is like woah. what the fuck happened here and everyone just starts crying because it's been a long year.

is this situation so ridiculous and crazy? yes. but so is this universe.

[brainddeadd]

Christmas Chaos with the New Jersey Devils

Christmas morning at the Devils' shared house (Jack and Luke's apartment) kicks off exactly how you'd expect—with sheer bedlam. Cinnamon rolls bake in the oven, Christmas music blares too loud from a Bluetooth speaker, and the boys are already hyped, even though it’s barely 8 AM.

You emerge from your room in pajama pants and a sweatshirt, rubbing sleep from your eyes. “You guys don’t sleep, do you?”

Jack’s head pops out from behind the tree, grin wide. “Nope! Merry Christmas!” He barrels toward you, hugging you like a human battering ram.

“You’re gonna crush me before I even get to the presents,” you mutter, trying to wiggle out of his grip.

Luke strolls over next, ruffling your hair affectionately. “Merry Christmas, bub. You ready for some chaos?”

“Isn’t that the only thing you guys know how to do?” you deadpan, earning a laugh from Nico, who hands you a hot chocolate.

“Come on,” Dawson urges with a grin, “let’s get to the presents before Jack tears everything open himself.”

The living room feels warm and cozy, the tree twinkling with lights. Stockings hang by the mantle, the scent of cinnamon filling the room. It would’ve been peaceful—if not for the boys acting like children hyped up on sugar.

Luke nudges you. “We all know what you got Trevor. Wanna take bets on his reaction?”

You laugh. “I’m telling you, he’s going to love it. It’s peak Z.”

Jack snickers. “A clown keychain. You really did him dirty.”

Nico grins. “You know he’ll laugh his ass off.”

Everyone settles around the tree as you hand out gifts one by one, watching eagerly for reactions.

For Jack, it’s a framed collage of his hockey journey—snapshots from Team USA days, his Devils debut, and goofy moments with his teammates. He stares at it, his usual cocky grin faltering. “Y/N, this is… really cool. Thank you.” His voice softens, and you know it means a lot.

For Luke, it’s a sleek skate-blade necklace with the words "Glide through life. - Bub" engraved on the back. He blinks, clearly surprised. “This is… way better than anything I got you.” He pulls you into a side hug. “Thanks, bub.”

For Nico, it’s a signed jersey from one of his childhood hockey heroes. His jaw drops. “No way.” He stares at it like it’s pure gold before enveloping you in a hug. “This is incredible. Thank you.”

For Dawson, it’s a beautiful leather-bound journal filled with little handwritten notes from you—encouragements for the hard days and funny quips for when he needs a laugh. “This is… perfect,” he murmurs, his grin soft. “Thank you, Y/N.”

The boys exchange looks as they admire their gifts, touched by the thoughtfulness.

“We were supposed to be the ones taking care of you,” Jack mutters, nudging you. “How come you’re so good at this?”

Luke laughs, throwing an arm around your shoulders. “She’s growing up, Jack. Bub's got heart.”

You roll your eyes. “Oh, please. You guys are big softies.”

“Next Christmas,” Nico says seriously, “we’re going all out for you. This was too good.”

Just as you’re settling into the post-present glow, your phone buzzes. The boys exchange knowing grins as you pick it up and see Trevor’s name on the screen.

“It’s happening,” Dawson mutters.

You smirk as you answer. “Merry Christmas, Z!”

Trevor’s face fills the screen, bright-eyed and laughing. “Merry Christmas, Y/N! I just opened your gift, and—what the hell—this clown keychain is the best thing I’ve ever seen!” He holds it up proudly. “You know me too well. I’m putting this on my bag immediately.”

Jack and Luke burst out laughing in the background. “Told you he’d love it!”

“What can I say?” Trevor grins. “I love chaos. You nailed it.”

“I knew it was your vibe,” you reply smugly. “Merry Christmas, clown boy.”

After ending the call, you sink back onto the couch, feeling the warmth of the holiday settle deep in your chest. Jack is still chuckling about Trevor’s reaction, Luke’s already trying to coordinate a rematch of a family board game, and Nico leans in with a knowing smile.

“You’ve got a gift,” he says quietly. “Not just with presents—but with people.”

Dawson nudges you, grinning. “Lucky us, huh?”

As the day stretches on, the house stays alive with laughter, arguments over board games, and way too many snacks. The boys are relentless in teasing you about Trevor’s keychain, but their affection is clear in every nudge and joke.

And for the first time in a while, you feel completely at home.

“Best Christmas ever,” you whisper to yourself, a smile tugging at your lips.

Jack hears you and slings an arm around your shoulders. “And it’s only getting started.”

[massyworld]

i know people have already said "that's not MY hirano!!" and after some thought, i agree because well, look. if the doujin had branched off from the canon much earlier, it wouldve been more plausible for hirano to fall out of contact with kagiura, but right after the roommate thing?? no WAY did hirano slowly phase out of wearing his earrings. no way did he just forget about the lovers trial. no WAY did Mr. I Want To Understand His Feelings More give up on it all. no way Mr. Even If We're Not Roommates I'll Just Show Up At His Dorm, or Mr. If I Don't Resolve This I Will Feel Weird About It For The Rest Of My Life.

no way did kagiura fall down low on the priority list. no way did his passion for kagiura fall out of equal alignment with his passion for his dream job. no. way. other thoughts from the doujin:

“Apparently he’s gotten bad at socializing” “Due to past trauma, he has difficulty interacting with people outside of basketball-related matters.” Kagiura pulled away from other people!! Hirano is now too!!!! (due to the mysterious studying, I wonder what he’s learning about hmmm) They’ve both become disconnected from others as an effect of diving into their own passions and falling out of contact with the other!!!!!!!!!! Despair……

i’m saddened there was no niibashi at the reunion. I hope he and Kagiura still talk, they’re besties for life after all. Actually I’ll be so sad if he’s never brought up in this au because he was probably such a big support in kagi’s life after the roommate debacle. Aghhhh

so unwell over kagi in a suit hair slicked back man

hirano ever the uke

the irony of hirano asking “did you make him drink that much” when he’s the reason kagi drank himself to the moon

highkey really funny that sensei started planning out the doujin and was immediately like, let’s get kagi get drunk. He’s earned some major loss of inhibitions

am heartbroken that kagiura is ashamed of his confession to hirano :((( I don’t think he’s ever expressed such negativity about it before right? I mean it’s probably because it didn’t end up being fruitful for him the way he wanted it to be, but it’s such a sad peek into how he mentally feels and thinks about that whole era of his past. Agh. I feel so bad for him.

”If only I had tried harder then. I didn’t want to have any regrets, so I focused on basketball.” am I to understand he focused harder on basketball so that he wouldn’t risk failing at that as well…bc if so…. -weeps-

ok ok hear me out but in chp 20, when kghr are told by hanzawa that they will be roommates, right before it kagi is teary eyed and hirano says his name and moves towards him, but we NEVER FIND OUT what he was going to do bc they get interrupted by hanzawa. This is a reach but if hanzawa went to tell the winners first, he wouldve gone to the losers rooms last, so maybe he wouldn’t have interrupted them at that exact time, and hirano wouldve had the time to get close enough right in front of kagi’s face to wipe his teary eyes and then perhaps even…initiates a hug to reassure him - but that might be too ooc. ANYWAY vaping copium

thinking now about all the stuff that didn’t happen in this timeline from volume 5… please don’t read if you don’t want to feel your chest closing in on itself. “I guess he wasn’t gonna touch me then.” “If Kagi-kun becomes a romantic interest for me, does that mean I’ll want him to flirt and stuff?! Oh hell no. At…at least…..I think…..hell…..no..” “But Kagi-kun worked so hard to allow us to stay roommates…” (OMG he loses that reason to continue to give it his all in the lovers experiment too?!? ok but NOT MY HIRANO---) “I’m allowed to use the 10 seconds for myself, right?” “After all, when you touch me, I feel really happy.” “I want to go on a date with you Hirano-san!” “It’s a secret. But I’ll tell you…once you fall in love with me.” “(Oh…was that 10 seconds already?)” “I wish I could see his face.” “He just surprised me. That’s all.” “You’re amazing.” “Of course you’re good enough.” “What..sort of expression is he wearing right now?” “If me touching you makes you happy, then look happy when I do it!” “I’m hoping you’ll let me keep trying.” “What the hell is this? I’m going crazy…” “So right now…maybe he’s going through the same stages of falling in love as you were…” “The person who’s influenced me the most in the past year has been without a doubt…you.” “Hirano-san…has gotten so good at basketball.” “I want him to say he loves me… but more than that…right now…I want to tell him that I love him.” “I was just wondering…if you were gonna do your 10 seconds of touching me for today…” “That was my 10 seconds, yours are separate…”

ok back to the doujin. No way he’d forget the keychain at first glance. Or say “ah that brings back memories.” SO CASUALLY about something as serious as considering kagi’s deep feelings for him!!! “did you want to be a family or something?” same vibe as freaking “What, are you jealous or something” !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

i’m glad he’s still hella weak to kagi’s whims though. It took only one tug of his coat to stay put til morning. Ayooo

don’t talk to me about that face-unseen headscratch after he remembered kagi’s confession. don’t.

kagi’s bedhead reminds me of those curly haired chickens he looks so utterly cute

heartbroken that hirano didn’t wake him up like the good ol days. That wouldve been too big of a shock to my heart anyway. Thank you for the reprieve sensei

MY BOY KAGIURA WAS SO IN SHOCK HE REPEATED “Had no choice” TO HIMSELF 4 TIMES..  love to see hirano still slurping up that excuse juice

”Kindness is painful” is such a raw line here

praying for kagiura to see hirano in his full uniform.

[dreamyelectronicmusic]

The late December sun is already up when Wille wakes to the most beautiful sight: Simon’s face inches from his, soft and relaxed in his sleep. His heart swells with happiness and love, but then clenches when he remembers that today is his last day in Bjärstad and he’ll never have another morning like this again. He pushes the thought away and just tries to focus on the quiet joy of the moment. He watches Simon sleep until his bladder forces him out of bed and then he starts rummaging around Simon’s kitchen. The least he can do is make him breakfast.

Simon emerges from the bedroom just as the coffee is ready, looking adorably sleep-rumpled. He attaches himself to Wille from behind, wrapping his arms around his waist.

“Are you making breakfast?” he murmurs, nuzzling the back of Wille’s neck.

“I am. Is that okay?”

“Mm-hmm. I like a man who knows his way around a kitchen.”

“Then I’m sorry to disappoint. Coffee and sandwiches is pretty much the extent of my abilities.”

“You could learn.”

And Wille would, happily, for Simon. He imagines cooking meals for him. Providing for him. It would make him so happy. But no amount of cooking skills could ever make up for the way being associated with Wille would destroy Simon’s life. Wille’s entire romantic history could be divided into two categories: people who were only with him for the glamour, and people who couldn’t live with the weight of becoming public property. He knows Simon is firmly in the latter category. Wille can’t do that to him. He couldn’t bear to see Simon’s light dimmed and being the cause of it.

But at least he gets to have breakfast with him. It’s cosy and domestic with plenty of stolen kisses. They’re both excited about the play tonight.

Then Simon mentions that he’s going to his mum’s house the next day to decorate the tree and bake some cookies. Wille could come too, if he wanted.

“I’d love to,” Wille says, meaning it, “but I can’t. I have to get back to Stockholm. The gala is tomorrow.”

Simon is disappointed, but he knows that Wille dreads the gala, so he tries to give him something nice to look forward to. “Then we could see each other after Christmas. Whenever you’re free.”

Wille’s expression changes at that and he doesn’t reply immediately. An ice block lodges itself in Simon’s stomach.

“You don’t want to,” he says, not a question. He feels like an idiot. Yes, they’ve only known each other for a couple of days, but Wille looked at him with such adoration, Simon really thought they were on the same page. But apparently not. Simon was the only one foolish enough to lose his heart.

“No, I want to, I do,” Wille pleads. “There’s nothing I want more than to be with you. I like you so much, Simon, but I – It can’t work. You’d regret it. My life is… you don’t want to be part of it.”

“Oh, I don’t, don’t I? Funny, I don’t remember being asked.” In all honesty, the little things Wille has shared made Simon dislike the monarchy even more and he doesn’t love the prospect of having anything to do with it, but he’s sure they could have worked something out. Except apparently Wille has already made the decision for the both of them.

“Trust me, you don’t. You’d hate it and you’d hate me and it would ruin your life. I’ve seen it happen before. I can’t do that to you.”

“But you can do it to yourself?”

“... What do you mean?”

“If you hate it so much, why do you stay?”

🎄 Hallmark Christmas Movie AU Part 3 🎄

(part 1) ❄️(part 2)

At this point in the script, we need Simon/his family/the town to face some kind of problem that Wille can help solve in a way that doesn’t rely on his royal status, lets him spend more time with Simon and helps him understand what he’s really passionate about. So what I’m thinking is that Simon’s school or maybe the town community centre is putting on a Christmas play. Actually it’s probably a musical so Simon is very involved. It’s an annual thing that the town is completely obsessed with. It’s not Christmas without it, basically. But now there’s a problem: the beautiful hand-painted scenery flats they always use got damaged somehow (Hallmark Force Majeure) and they’re unusable. Everyone is devastated; the flats are a classic and everybody loves them. They can do the play without them but it just won’t be the same. Nobody is available to paint new ones at such short notice. Except a certain prince who is there on holiday so he has nothing to do besides make eyes at his crush and who took up painting some years ago as a way to calm his anxiety.

So Wille offers to repaint the flats. Mostly he wants to impress Simon and spend more time with him, but he also really likes the thought of being actually useful. I don’t know how long it would take in real life but in fantasy world it takes exactly the amount of time they have. Simon keeps him company whenever he can and enjoys watching him paint and the cute little frown he has on his face when he’s concentrating. They talk and joke and flirt and get to know each other better. Wille thinks that he should probably be trying to protect his heart because he knows that this can never be anything more than a little holiday romance – someone as wonderful as Simon doesn’t belong in his dreary life. But he knows that it’s a lost cause. He’s falling hard and fast and there’s no stopping it, so he decides to just enjoy it while he can.

As Wille paints, at first he’s trying to copy the old flats based on photos, but then he gets ideas for changes and improvements. He doesn’t think he should do that, though; it’s a tradition and he shouldn’t break it. But Simon encourages him to be creative and just do what he feels is right, and Wille finds that he’s really enjoying the process. (See, it’s a metaphor! We are not in a subtle genre.)

And you can guess what happens. At some point Wille gets some paint on his face and Simon tries to wipe it off. They were laughing about something just a second ago but suddenly they’re not. Simon’s thumb brushes over Wille’s cheekbone, smearing the paint. Wille’s nose nudges Simon’s, and their lips finally meet in a kiss that’s been days in the making. It’s soft and brief. They break apart to check in with each other, grin, and the next thing Wille knows is he’s dropping the paint brush and pulling Simon closer, closer, closer.

Simon ends up with paint on the back of his shirt and in his hair, but he doesn’t mind.

[eggbabey]

welcome reddit refugees

[kacievvbbbb]

Say what you will about the clown, but you can’t deny he is a clown of the people.

[akito-shinonome-daily]

Can you put Chibi Akito under a bridge like a troll? I am imagining him as the troll asking a question or for the bridge toll.