#i like writing a dramatic reg who has a hard time with feelings

[ultravioletbrit]

“Italy” - Jegulus microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - 333 words

 

Regulus has his suitcase packed and he’s almost out the door when Sirius stops him.

“Where are you going?” Sirius asks him.

“Italy.” Regulus almost growls.

“Why are you going to Italy?” Sirius asks ignoring Regulus’ tone.

“He asked me to marry him, Sirius!” Regulus says through gritted teeth.

“Yes. I know.” Sirius tells him.

“YOU KNOW?” Regulus is yelling now.

“Yes, of course I know. That still doesn’t explain why you’re going to Italy.” Sirius questions again.

“HE ASKED ME TO MARRY HIM, SIRIUS!?” Still yelling and getting louder.

“Reggie, I still don’t see the connection here.” Sirius says, but before Regulus can answer, James walks out of their bedroom.

“James, Reg is going---” Sirius starts.

“To Italy. I heard… He’ll be back.” James says casually.

“No, I will not!” Regulus says firmly at the same time Sirius asks “What?!” as he looks at James confused.

“He just needs a bit of time to process.” James shrugs, still very calm about the entire situation.

“Why are you not freaking out?” Sirius asks a bit frantically.

“I freaked out when he went to France when I asked him to be my boyfriend, but then he came back a week later and said yes. So, I didn’t freak out when he went to Greece when I told him I loved him. And then he went to… Spain?” He questions and looks at Regulus.

“Yes.” Regulus grits out.

“Spain, when I asked him to move in with me. Italy sounds like it will be nice. Have a good time.” James tells Regulus and gives him a kiss.

“I am not coming back this time, James.” Regulus says very definitively.

“Okay, love. I’ll see you in a week.” James says as he starts to walk towards the kitchen. He pauses and looks over his shoulder, “You have the ring, right?” He asks Regulus.

“Yes.” Regulus says as he walks out and slams the door. 

---------

Regulus is back in a week with the ring on his finger.

[flamingo-writes]

It's Better When The Sun Goes Down — Nanami x Reader

This is a piece for the Anilysium Server NSFW Collab! Make sure to check the masterlist to see other writer's works! This month's prompt was: "I can't hold back anymore"

I'd like to dedicate this fanfic to one of my dearest and closest friends. I'm not a Nanami simp myself, but they are. And I have fun writing for Nanami, and also I love writing angsty things and flawed characters. Reg, I hope you enjoy this as much as you enjoy my more casual writing.

(it's pink bcs youre Chancho)

Word Count: 5.4K

Warnings: Mentions of breakup and heartbreak, alcohol and drug consuption, public sex, ghosting, lots and lots of angst. This does not have a happy ending. This is also non proof read bcs I kinda left it to the last minute I'm sorry, I'll go back and edit it when I am not in a rush dcj nd

Summary: Nanami’s return to the Sorcerer life wasn’t so bad. It could be better if Gojo wasn’t determined to get him back with his ex. As Nanami tries to get on good terms with them, things get out of control, only to end up where it all began.

I made this playlist while writing, in case you wanna listen to it while reading. Preferably listen to it without the shuffle, but you can hear it on shuffle, no biggie.

Nanami had forgotten how painfully unbearable Gojo could be. His return as a Sorcerer had been nothing out of the ordinary for a Sorcerer's standards. Missions here and there, or watching over some of Gojo's students. But God, he had surely stepped out of the line this time.

He couldn't even begin to explain how much he hated his current situation. Fighting by your side for the first time in years felt like rubbing hot oil on an open wound. The uncomfortable ignoring the elephant in the room between you two, as you two tracked and fought what felt like a million Curses.

When the adrenaline was at its peak, it felt almost nostalgic; though he'd then remembered everything else and immediately made his own reality bitter and awkward. Overshadowed by the advantage of years of experience ahead of him made him resent you even more. He knew it was childish and pointless to keep remembering everything that happened between you two, but that bittersweet memory would most likely keep him at bay.

You were still strong, witty, fearless, reckless and quick to act and defend yourself. The way you moved looked more swiftly and coordinated than you did back in your student days. Almost as if you were a professional dancer. He hated every bit of it. He couldn’t stop looking at you, thinking about you, and the possibilities of what you two would have become.

After the mission was over, no words were exchanged between you two. Aside from the: "Are you alright?" He told you as you simply gave him a thumbs up as you caught your breath drenched in sweat. An entire ride in an uncomfortable silence, until he reached the school and you got out of the car.

"Thanks. You did a great job. Keep it up" You said. Cold, and straight to the point. Closing his car door before he could reply. And soon, you were gone.

As Nanami tried to get his mind off the mission, Gojo made it difficult. He called him to ask for the details of the mission. He seemed amused and intrigued, as clearly you hadn't told him shit. And honestly, he could understand why. Gojo was meddling on things that weren’t his business, and things that had died a long time ago.

"Why are you interrogating me, Gojo?" He asked as he pressed hisnfingers on the bridge of his nose. "Ask your underling…"

"Because that jerk left for the bar as soon as they arrived" He explained. "And I know better than to annoy a drunk [Name], It took me a while but...I finally learned my lesson" He chuckled. “I knew they could hit hard, but damn, I had a big ass bruise…” Nanami could almost hear his stupid grin.

"You make it sound like it's a recurrent event" Nanami pointed out, slightly surprised as he didn't know you were a drinker.

"Oh, Nanami-kun, you really know nothing huh?" Gojo said, smiling widely as he had managed to manipulate Nanami into asking.

"Know what?" Nanami hissed as he now swore he could hear Nanami creepily grinning at his phone.

"No, nothing!” Gojo said as if it were nothing; trying and succeeding at peeking at Nanami’s curiosity “I'm not gonna talk over depressing things on the phone. Gotta go, bye! Kith kith, Kento-kun" Gojo sang and hung up, as he smirked, proud of his little mischief. He sighed deeply as he stretched in his bed. "Soon, those two will be back together" he smirked to himself.

Nanami hissed a curse under his breath as he locked his phone and threw it on his bed and went to the kitchen. If he had understood well, Gojo had just hinted at a possible drinking problem. He tried shaking his mind off of it. You couldn't, could you? You weren’t a drinker...You weren’t the last time he saw you. You were able to party and have fun without having to intoxicate yourself.

You were wild, cheerful, unpredictable. Everything he was not. And that’s what had made him fall in love with you back in your school days. You were so laid back, he could feel it permeating into him when you two hung out. The few times he’d broken rules was because you’d been the bad influence, however, you somehow managed to get away with it, and leave him with some distant memory in which he felt actually glad to be alive. He usually felt like he was walking on a cloud stuck in time, being present and enjoying the little things that made his everyday memories.

He’d really screwed up after breaking up with you...if he could call that a breakup... His life took a dramatic turn. And then, he turned his back to this world, and got immersed in the gray life the average man in Japan had. Away from what he's familiar with, away from his friends, away from you.

And now, apparently, you had a drinking habit. He wondered if he had caused it, or if he was one of the reasons behind it. The guilt started creeping in. The same guilt and regret he felt after ghosting on you. Not being able to bring himself to properly end things with you.

The guilt he’d managed to swipe under the rug for so many years creeped back out, and followed him around as the afternoon went by. After having a shower, changing into more comfortable clothes and in a lame attempt to cook dinner, he decided to test his luck. He put on a dark button down shirt and decided to go to the bar closest to the School. He felt the naive hope to find you there. However, if you had an actual problem, then his chances to see you there were higher.

Such was his surprise to find you there, trying to get rid of some insistent guy who kept talking to you despite your very obvious lack of interest. Before you could spot him, he watched you aggressively turn to the guy and talk to him in a rather rude tone. Sounding almost like a moody sailor as the guy’s face soon was washed with horror and disgust and walked away. As you turned your face back to your drink, your eyes scanned the bar, finally spotting him.

“Oh god” You whined as you pulled the glass to your lips. “It’s too early to be this drunk…” You hissed.

“Mind if I sit here?” He asked, pointing at the chair in front of you.

“Tell Gojo to go fuck himself…” You snapped at him as you stood up and stumbled your way to the bar asking for a refill. Nanami looked at you, feeling slightly sorry for your tipsy state, as he’d never seen you like that. And he knew being mad and drunk was never a good combination. As you turned around with your glass and made your way back to your table, you gave him a slightly repulsed smile. “You’re still here…”

“Gojo didn’t send me here, if that’s what you’re thinking” He replied.

“He might as well have manipulated you into doing so, has that crossed your mind?” You said with a sassy tone as you sat back down. “Why are you still standin’?”

Nanami took that as an invitation as he ignored your last comment, trying to refuse the idea that Gojo had manipulated him.

“Rough day, huh?” He said as you nodded and stared at your drink.

“Look, Kento. I’m glad that you’re back. I really am. You’re strong, and you’re smart…” You began. “But I’m gonna cut the chase, I’m kinda annoyed too. Ever since you got back, Gojo has been sticking his snobby nose into my business” You explained. “Many of the missions he sends you in, I’m supposed to be there as well, but manage to get busy by then and not go”

“So you’re actively avoiding me?”

“Yes” You replied bluntly. “Mostly because Gojo is trying very hard to bring us back together. But no, I learned my lesson the first time” You said taking a sip to your scotch, feeling it smoothly sliding down your throat, no longer feeling the burn from the alcohol.

“I haven’t apologized for that…” Nanami began.

“Don’t” You interrupted him. “It’s better this way”

“Are you sure? Because you still seem to have an issue with it…” Nanami said, managing to read you like an open book like he always did. He still had that ability.

You glared at him, angrily as you opened your mouth to snap back at him, but your mind was foggy and a big portion of your brain was focused on the little details surrounding him. His black shirt, the first buttons undone. His thick wrists, one of them hiding underneath a fancy looking watch, his blond hair pushed back, his sharp features...And god, his smell. The smell of his cologne luring you in like a fly to honey. Since any words made it to your mouth, your next step was to take another sip.

“You’re drinking too fast” He pointed out.

“None of your business” You said standing up and taking your wallet out and leaving a few bills on the tale. “I’m out” You said coldly and walked out of the bar.

Nanami sighed, frustrated that he hadn’t managed to get anything out of interaction. Aside from the pretty clear fact that you disliked him. However, he didn’t think of the possibility of you resenting him so much because you still had feelings for him.

As you walked out of the bar, the chilly wind hit the back of your neck, making you shiver. You cursed, knowing it was going to make you feel drunker faster. You made your way to the school with long steps, trying to make it to your dorm before your last drink made it to your head. Despite the cold wind, the hot tears in your eyes in a way kept your face warm. As you tried to keep yourself from crying, you heard steps behind you.

“Wait” You heard Nanami’s voice calling behind you as you stopped on command, against your own will. You swallowed the lump on your throat and managed to keep the tears still in your eyes, as you refused to look at

him. “At least let me walk you home. You can’t walk on your own like this…”

“Oh, so now you care?” You said turning around and looking at him, giving him a smug smile. “You’ve changed” You scoffed bitterly.

“Please” He said, knowing better than trying to argue with you.

Your stare on him softened, as something within you urged you to say yes. To have more time with Nanami and maybe cling to the bittersweet memories you were constantly reliving since his return.

“Fine” You said, very much to his surprise. He smiled and walked closer to you with the gentle smile that had been haunting your dreams as of lately.

“C’mon. My car is not far from here…”

You stopped coldly as he mentioned a car. Taking a second look at him, you wondered how much he’d changed. He’d become an adult through and through, hadn’t he? While you were still a mess...Or so you thought. To Nanami’s eyes, you were a far better sorcerer and warrior than him. And he envied you for it.

“Are you actually going to take me to the school?” You asked, suddenly growing suspicious of him, as you’d had plenty of experiences with strangers on the street and knew better than going into someone’s car in a drunken state.

Not that you didn’t trust Nanami. You didn’t trust yourself drunk.

“I was actually thinking of taking you somewhere for dinner and then to the school” He said.

“Not hungry”

“No, but you’re drunk. It’ll sober you up, and tomorrow morning you’ll thank me when you wake up without a hangover” He said as he walked towards his car.

“I don’t have any more money on me” You lied, looking for an excuse to avoid spending any more than necessary with him.

“I didn’t ask you if you have money” He said boldly as he managed to make you smirk for the first time since his return.

“Smooth, Nanami. You’ve grown” You said as you followed him.

The walk to his car felt like your chest burnt far more than the alcohol ever did. It felt bitter, it hurt and was nauseating. Was it really it, or was it the alcohol finally catching up with you? Like flashes of instant memories being erased from your memory, the drive to a restaurant felt like a poorly edited foreign film. The car felt like some intense themed park ride as you felt dizzy with the alcohol whispering everything you missed about him. It was gross and it was sickening.

The Ramen sign on the outside on itself managed to sober you up a little by taking your mind off Nanami. As you followed him, clumsily standing on your feet, you sat on one of the tables and tried to make sense of the dancing letters in the menu. More flashes of memories were taken off your head, as you wondered what was happening and how drunk were you for you to start blacking out.

“Not good…” you muttered under your breath.

“Did you say something?” Nanami asked.

“No. Nothing”

“How are you holding up?”

“I’m not”

“You’ll feel better in a bit. Don’t worry…” He said softly as he sipped from a soda you didn’t know he had. When had he ordered it? You looked in front of you to the nice surprise that you had one too despite not knowing how or when. “I ordered some ramen for you. Something spicy...It’ll sober you up faster”

You chuckled as you looked at him.

“And how do you know that?” You asked with a cheeky tone as he smiled softly.

“Went drinking a lot with friends from work” He said. “I learned a few things here and there”

More brief black outs kept lazily painting a rather miserable painting in your memory. As you ate your ramen, you found yourself relaxing more and more. Was it the hot spicy broth? In the beginning, the balck outs weren’t getting any less frequent, however, as the night went by, you found yourself sobering up like he said. Soon, the black outs were gone, however you were still somehow locked in a haze. Although it made sense. The amount of booze as well as the short time, it was going to take a lot more than just one hot bowl of spicy ramen to get you back to a sober state.

The conversation kept flowing comfortably as both of you ate. It was reminiscent of the old days, nostalgic and somehow morbid. As the both of you tried to grasp at the old days when your worries were limited to school work. Catching up like old friends who hadn't seen each other, as if you didn’t have hard feelings for each other.

After having finished your food, Nanami paid for both of your meals and went back out into the cold night. The sky black, stars hidden by the streetlights as you made it to his car and finally noticed the silver color in it.

As he drove back to the school, you noticed he took a small detour, instantly setting alarms in your head.

“Where are we going?” You asked, your voice considerably serious as he noticed the change in tone from the pleasant talk they were having in the restaurant.

“There’s somewhere I’d like to go…” He said as he briefly looked at you and gave you a tender smile.

That smile made your heart uncomfortably skip a beat as you hated the effect he still had on you. You didn’t dare to ask any further as you slowly recognized the route he was taking. As he slowly took one of the roads towards the edge of the city close to the coast line. He stopped in a rather deserted place, as he got off the road and stopped the car.

Despite the lack of light, aside from the few streetlights, you knew exactly where you were. A whole in your chest opened dramatically as you felt your eyes tear up and happy memories attached to the location flooded your mind.

“Kento…” You said chuckling bitterly.

“When I said I wanted to apologize, I meant it…” He said as you clenched your jaw and looked out your window, avoiding his stare.

“And I told you I didn’t want to talk about it…”

“You’re still upset about it, I get it. And I don’t blame you” He began as he felt his heart beating hard in his chest. “Look at me, please”

You wanted to say something to him. But you knew you would break down crying as soon as you opened your mouth. You took a deep breath and without saying anything you looked at him. His dark brown eyes gazing into yours, as he was looking at you with a rather pained stare.

“You remember this place, don’t you?” He asked.

A bitter laugh escaped your lips as you clicked your seatbelt, getting it off.

“I’m done” You said dryly as you opened the door and got out of the car.

“No, [Name]. Please, wait” He said as he mirrored your movements and excited the car walking around it.

“Of fuckign course I know where I am, Kento” You barked as you walked away approaching the door. “I know where I lost my fucking virginity, okay?” You barked as you stopped coldly and looked at him, tears finally streaming off your face. “Look, I’ll make us a favour and summarize this conversation. Yes, you’re a fucking asshole for just taking off one day and completely disappearing. Yes, I’m still mad about it. No, I won’t take your apology. No, I don’t care about whatever shitty excuse you have for me to listen to you. You bringing me here out of all places isn’t going to change shit…” You spat all in one breath as you stopped and took a deep breath.

“I loved you, Kento. I really did. And it hurt to have you just dissipate like you were a hallucination or something...You were my first kiss, my first love, my first everything! And one day I lost all of that. You ruined sex for me!” You yelled angrily. “I could never hold, kiss or sleep with anyone, because at some point I’d see your stupid face, and then be incredibly underwhelmed because I would not enjoy sex. I can’t feel anything anymore, Kento...The only way I can actually enjoy those things is by getting drunk or high” You admitted. “I can’t walk into bookstores, nor eat sandwiches or diet coke, nor drink tea because all those things remind me of you. And yes, it’s lame that all these years later I still care about those things. And this is why I can’t forgive you” You cried, as your voice shook.

Nanami’s heart broke little by little at each one of your words. He knew he’d screwed up and had hurt you deeply. But he wasn’t aware of the actual impact. He clenched his jaw as he felt his chest tight and a lump on his throat. Now the drinking problem made sense. Gojo had painted it like you were an alcoholic, but it wasn’t exactly the case. So you’d gone to the bar to get it off with some stranger, probably pretending it was him.

The dizzying pain and weight of his mistakes blinded him for a second as he walked towards you as you kept bitterly complaining. As you tried to walk away, you made a very poor effort as he caught up with you and cupped your face in his hands, bringing you closer to him and shutting you up by pressing his lips against you.

The sudden surprise made your heart stop. Your mind turning numb and blank at once as you struggled to bring yourself to push him away. However, truth be told, you didn't want to push him away. The poor attempt to push him away was more than obvious. The strong fighter you were, barely making any physical effort. Nanami's hands wrapped around your back and pulled you close, squeezing you against him as he sighed into the kiss.

Finally kissing him back, you locked your lips against his desperately, eager to taste the lips you've been dreading in your dreams. Clinging to him like he was going to disappear again, a soft whimper escaped your mouth. Your chest pressing against him as he felt his own world getting blurry.

He broke the kiss pulling away as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You have no idea how much I missed you” He whispered as you clung to him.

“I-I…” You stuttered, the words tasting bitter before they even made it to your mouth. “Fuck, I want you, Kento” You growled as he pulled you in, kissing you hungrily again.

His hands posessively clinging to you as he slowly guided you back to the car. One step at the time as you both melted in a hungry sour kiss. As you ran out of breath, you pulled away, gasping for air as you gripped his collar in your hands.

“I can’t hold back anymore” You said as you pulled away and grabbed his hand, walking back to his car.

Your words unleashed a shiver down his spine as his heart skipped a beat and raced like crazy, as his pants started feeling tighter on his crotch. He chuckled softly as he realized his own judgement seemed to have disappeared with that first kiss. And before you could even make it to his car, he gripped your hips and spun you around as he bumped his forehead against yours.

“I can’t either” He admitted as he guided you to the car’s hood and pulled you over it. Ass you sat on the warm hood, he got between your legs and you wasted no time wrapping them around his waist. He grunted softly feeling your crotch against his as you pulled him closer to seal your lips together.

As you soon were absorbed by the dizziness of your rising heat, his hand went to your bare thighs as he slowly caressed your skin, going up and lifting your skirt up in the process. A soft moan slid into his mouth as he gripped your ass softly and squeezed it. The way your skin got covered in goosebumps and how you jerked your hips made him moan in response.

It felt good, and intoxicating. The driving desire burning his insides. The feeling of desiring to taste you all over and have you shaking underneath him. God, he’d missed that particular rush of adrenaline. His body reacting to the deeply buried memories now loose. He felt like he was in the best high he’d experienced. Lightheadedness and presence in the moment, he hadn’t felt this alive in so long.

Your hands were slowly undoing his buttoned shirt and were quick to explore his warm skin. He pulled away from the kiss, gasping as he looked at you. Your devilish smile matching your hungry stare. You leaned forward kissing his neck, nibbling on his skin every now and then. His hand gripped your hair tightly, pulling it lightly, making you look up at him as he stared at you.

He leaned forward, kissing you once more, this time a lot more slow and a lot more tender. It was sweet and it was slow and it took you by surprise. You felt his sweet kiss begging you, still holding on to the feelings you both decided to drown unsuccessfully. It almost hurt. It was the kind of kiss that told you how much you missed and needed each other. How much you regretted the mistakes you’ve done.

As you melted against his lips, his hands slowly slid your panties off. You helped him lifting your hips a little but as you giggled against his lips.

“Eager?” You said with a playful smirk.

“You have no idea” He replied as he took off your panties and shoved them in his back pocket.

His hand made it back to your thigh, slowly going up until he palmed your hot sex. Stealing a gasp out of your mouth, he teasingly ran one of his fingers through your dripping slit, making him smile satisfied.

“I’m not the only one, huh?” He said as you looked at him with lustful eyes.

You took his glasses off and set them aside. You were about to go back to kissing his neck when he slid one finger inside of you effortlessly. A rather loud moan escaped your lips as you shut your eyes closed feeling your entire body tingle in a way you hadn’t felt in years. You smiled satisfied as you continued kissing his neck. Slowly, he got another finger inside. The delicious stretch of his second finger prompting you to bite his neck softly making him growl your name softly. His fingers explored the whole he knew so well, as he found your sweet spot almost by muscle memory. More moans came out of your throat sounding like music to his ears.

“Fuck, Kento” You hissed as you took off your top, not caring that you were outdoors and by the road. Up to this point, you were so pent up, you simply craved him like you’d never craved anything before.

Nanami wasted no time and kissed your neck, going down to your neck, gently biting your skin every now and then. Sucking delicately on your skin, leaving marks that wouldn’t last long. He pulle dhis fingers out of you, clinging to your body desperately. As you laid on the car’s hood, you devoured him with your lustful eyes, begging him to get on top of you. Wearing just your skirt by this point, Nanami groaned at the plain sight of you.

He undid his belt and his pants. Your hands playfully teasing your own body in an attempt to drive him crazier and crazier. He cursed under his breath as he couldn’t take it any longer. He pulled his painfully hard erection out of his pants. You watched hi, intrigued, stretching your hands towards him, gently gripping his dick. His breath hitched and you smiled proudly.

Nanami leaned over the car hood, slowly getting on top of you, his shaft resting on your belly as he looked at how much deep could he go inside of you. His tip almost reaching you belly button, as the idea alone made a shiver run down his spine.

"Please, Kento" you gasped, need dripping from your voice as you caressed his dick

He growled softly as he pulled away softly, aligning against your entrance and slowly going in. You gasped, pushing your head back and pressing your hips against his making him go deeper.

Hissing your name, he jerked his hips, his tip.kissing your cervix as sudden rush of pain jolted through your body, followed by pleasure. You dug your nails in his shoulders as he thrusted back and forth, hitting all the right spots. The sound of his gasps and grunts hypnotizing as you got wetter by the second. His length coated in your juices, echoing in lewd wet noises.

He was rough. He usually was. Back in student days, he was particularly rough. As quiet and collected as he seemed, he sure got his stress out if his body through wild sex.

Relentlessly pushing against you, stretching you in such a delicious way only he knew how. Strong and aggressive movements as your walls swallowed him whole every time, breathless moans escaping your lips with every push. The cool wind kissing your skin, only enhancing his warmth.

As you felt your orgasm progressively approaching, the realization of how addicted you were to him hit you. He was everything you desired. And it was wrong. Before the feeling of uneasiness started to sink in, a sudden electric rush ran through your body. Painfully and soothing, as you tightly clenched around himbsoon numbed your mind.

As you came around him, your walls sucked him in tightly, as he was right over the brink, your velvet flesh pushed him off the edge. He didn't have time to pull out. And honestly, he didn't want to pull out. The way your walls milked him felt delicious. As he rode you through your orgasm, filling you up as his head felt dizzy and the world was spinning faster than usual. His hot seed coating your insides, as you shut your eyes closed, feeling the very last of your orgasm fading away.

He pressed his forehead against yours. Loud pants echoing.

However, the world didn't quite return to its regular focus.

The rest of the night went by in a fuzzy hot mess of events. You returned to his apartment and kept feasting on each other, making up for the lost time. Both of you incredibly starved and needy, you desperately went at it over and over again. It was a rather long night. As you feared, no one made you feel as he did. All of him was addicting. His smell, his voice, his warmth, his skin...It didn’t matter how many strangers you fucked, or how drunk or high you were, he felt just right. He made you cum so easily, it seemed ridiculous everyone else couldn’t.

But you knew it was far more than that.

You were still deeply in love with him. No wonder why he had that effect on you. Just hearing his breathlessly gasp was enough to have you soaking wet and under his mercy. Between sweet kisses, fake promises and sweaty sex, he quite literally fucked you to oblivion. Until either of you could take it any longer and you two fell asleep in each other’s arms. It had been a long tiring night, as you knew many of your muscles were gonna be sore the next day. Your chest painted in red and blue bruises.

It was possibly one of the best night sleeps he’d had. In such a long time. The uncomfortable hole in his chest didn’t feel so wide now. Just like you, he didn’t know how much he actually needed you until now. His regrets, his guilt, the thoughts haunting him on how much of a jerk he’d been when he simply took off...All those feelings went away for a night. As he tasted the wonders of the universe under your skin. Feeling ecstatic and euphoric for the first time in years. However, nothing could’ve prepared Nanami for what he was about to experience when he woke up.

~

“What the hell is this?” Gojo asked as he waved around the folder you’d left a few hours earlier in the Headmaster’s office.

“Why the fuck do you care?” You said as you grabbed it, ripping it off his hands.

“You’re seriously leaving for Kyoto?” He whined.

“So my transfer was accepted? Great!” You said sarcastically as you opened the folder and saw the Headmaster’s seal at the bottom.

“What about Nanami-kun?” Gojo replied as the very last string of your patience snapped.

“Oh, fuck you, Gojo! You tried to force us back together, but it’s not going to happen” You snapped. “I’m done. I’m done with him, and I’m done with you sticking your nose in my business”

“Do you really think that running away will solve anything? You’ll still be depressed as hell”

“The less I know about him, the better” You said as you turned around, hot tears blurring your sight as you headed with long steps towards your room. “I don’t trust myself around him…” You whispered. “He’s my weakness Gojo, I can’t let that happen…” You said coldly.

You’d left that morning very early, before Nanami woke up. And you left leaving no trace of you ever being there. Unintentionally doing the same he did. It was unintentional because you hadn’t done it out of spite. Your thought process had been simply. You preferred to not have that conversation and simply leave without him noticing. You had had the exact same thought process Nanami had had all those years ago.

You didn’t waste time and soon started packing your things to leave for Kyoto right away.

[fruitcoops]

Omg can you write about coops going live on instagram and answering TONS of fans questions? And just being domestic and cute together in general

I can, yes! This is partially the 450 celebration--to the lovely person who suggested writing a sequel to one of my favorites, please know that I love and appreciate you! Coop credit goes to @lumosinlove

Check out Part 1 here

“Is it working? I think it’s working.” An explosion of hearts covered the screen and Remus’ eyebrows rose. “Yep, definitely working. Hello, Instagram! I’m Remus Lupin, winger for the Lions.”

“And I’m Sirius Black, center and team captain.” Sirius waved at the phone. “We had a great time answering your questions last month and we figured we’d come back to do it again, since there were so many people we couldn’t get around to in those few minutes.”

“I can already see a bunch coming in. Should we start?” Remus asked, turning to him with a small smile.

“You go first.”

“Alright, first question….” He squinted at the screen. “How long have we been together? We’ve been dating for just over a year now, but we’ve known each other for three-ish.”

Sirius snorted when he read the next question. “What do we do in our free time? It’s cute that you think we have free time. Um, we read a lot. Sometimes I’ll play video games with the guys.”

“If we have a free weekend, we’ll go hiking or take a short road trip. Practice takes up four or five hours a day, so we’re very low-key, which I think surprises people.” Remus scrolled down a bit. “What are our favorite foods?”

“Don’t say it.” Sirius said immediately. “Don’t you dare.”

“Fine, fine.” Just as Sirius began to answer, he coughed, “pineapple pizza.”

“No!” Sirius smacked Remus on the arm with a pillow as he laughed. “Menace. My favorite food is pasta, because it’s versatile and I’m not a heathen. All of you who are agreeing with him, stop it right now. I’m very disappointed in your tastebuds. Next question…do either of us cook? We do, yeah.”

Remus gave him a look. “Do you, though?”

“That’s a funny thing to hear coming from the man who said he’d die for one of my grilled cheeses yesterday,” Sirius countered.

“Fair point. Yes, we both cook, but I generally do it more often because I enjoy it.”

Sirius looked back at the camera with sad eyes. “He kicked me out of the kitchen last week.”

“You kept stealing bites of soup!” Remus laughed. “It wasn’t even done, you could have gotten salmonella!”

“You can’t get salmonella from soup,” Sirius scoffed. The comment section went wild. “…apparently you can. Huh.”

“Next question, before we get too off-track. Who is the more dramatic one?” Remus folded his hands and rested his chin on top. “I’m giving you three guesses and the first two don’t count.”

Sirius rolled his eyes. “You’re plenty dramatic.”

“Uh-huh, sure.”

“Moving on! Oooo, this one is for me specifically.” He shifted closer, wrapping an arm around Remus’ waist as he read. “Sirius: does Regulus—you spelled that wrong by the way, there’s only one ‘g’—does Regulus still live with you? If yes, how does that work?”

“I’m telling him someone spelled his name wrong,” Remus said as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “He’ll get a kick out of it.”

“He’ll be so pissed,” Sirius agreed. “Nope, Reg moved out a few months ago and now lives with Pascal Dumais, but it was really neat to have him around. He’s still got a room here and it was nice spending so much time with him after we didn’t talk for a while. He’s awful about vacuuming, though.”

“Aw, people think that’s cute.” Remus smiled as he read the responses. “Ohoho, people are getting nosy. What do we argue about the most?”

“I’m not sure, actually. Maybe chores?”

“I was going to say practice time. We’ve gotten into a couple tiffs about watching tape or running drills after we get home.”

“That’s true.” Sirius frowned at the screen. “For those of you who apparently think that’s all one-sided: it’s really not.”

“He came downstairs to get me at ten or eleven at night the other day. We’re both hockey nerds, so it happens from time to time.”

“Are we going to keep doing tiktoks? Oh, for sure, they’re a ton of fun.”

“Absolutely. Where else am I going to get the inspiration to glue things shut just to irritate him?”

Sirius shook his head with a smile. “Diablotin.”

“Nothing like being called a gremlin by your fiancé,” Remus laughed, tapping the screen. “Okay…who’s the best in bed?”

“I’d say we both sleep really well,” Sirius said. “You talk sometimes, which is really funny.”

Remus glanced over. “Do I really?”

“Yep. I think you were grocery shopping the other night. You kept saying orange juice very adamantly.”

“Interesting. I agree, though, we both value sleep.”

“There are too many questions!” Sirius scooted forward and sifted through them. “To jay-mac 2001, we both love kids and might have some in a few years. No, mermaid queen, we don’t really have friends outside of hockey because we don’t have lives outside of hockey—” Remus leaned his forehead on Sirius’ shoulder as he laughed. “—but I’m sure that will change someday. Oh, here’s a fun one: what are our love languages?”

“Our what?”

“Love languages. Like the Buzzfeed quiz Pots made us take last week.” The screen lit up and Sirius looked offended. “Of course we know what Buzzfeed is! We’re 25, you fuckers!”

“I think mine was quality time.”

Sirius pulled Remus’ arm further around his shoulders and leaned into his side with a smile. “It’s physical affection,” he singsonged, making him laugh. “Your turn.”

“Have you finally found your song?” Remus read aloud. “I think so! We did an interview a while back and there was a question about our ‘couple song’, which we didn’t have at the time.”

“That didn’t answer the question, sweetheart.”

“Oh! Shit, sorry. It’s La Vie En Rose by Edith Piaf.”

Sirius read the next question and snorted. “This is convenient. Who swears more?”

Remus looked away. “It’s, uh, a tie.”

“That’s such a lie.”

He sighed. “It’s probably me.”

“You taught a literal baby to swear.” Sirius turned back to the camera with a wicked grin. “Harry’s first word was ‘Loops’, but his second was ‘shit’ and there’s an eighty percent chance he learned it from Re.”

“Changing the subject!” Remus cleared his throat, then smiled. “Aw, I like this one. What’s the compliment you get most often from your partner?”

“Does it have to be verbal?”

“Sirius.”

Sirius’ eyes went wide. “Not like that! Oh, fuck, I did not mean that! You always touch my hair, so I figured that was a compliment. Merde.”

Remus shook his head. “We need a supervisor again. Anyways, you talk about my freckles all the time and it’s adorable.”

“You’re adorable.”

“Sap.”

“Yeah.” Sirius kissed his cheek. “What’s the best date I’ve ever been on? We went ice skating at the local rink a few weeks ago and it was so much fun. I had never done that before.”

Remus’ eyebrows rose. “I thought for sure you would say the aquarium.”

“The aqu—oh, right! With the jellyfish arch!”

“Yeah!”

“Now it’s a tie, I can’t decide.”

“That’s fair. From spaceman93: who tops? We actually don’t have a bunk bed, though that would be cool as hell! Do you think Ikea sells them?”

“We should check.”

The screen exploded into activity again and Remus did a double-take. “Yes, we do buy our furniture from Ikea, there’s no need to sound so shocked. This person—I can’t read your username, sorry—wants to know which of us is more cuddly.”

“Definitely me,” Sirius said.

“For sure. I like cuddling people, but only a select few. I mean, I’m assuming you guys saw the Cap cuddles slideshow at our last game.” He laughed when Sirius turned pink. “Why are you embarrassed? It was cute!”

“There’s a hashtag now!” Sirius complained. “I have a reputation.” Remus rolled his eyes fondly as Sirius looked for the next question. “Ha! Do we ever get jealous?”

“Yes, but not for the reasons people might think.”

Sirius laughed quietly. “We went out to a bar for Kasey’s birthday a month or so ago—”

“Oh, please no.”

“—and a young lady was hitting on me, not taking the hint—”

“Jesus.”

“—so Re comes out of nowhere and kisses me full on the mouth in front of everyone.” He snickered and Remus hid his face in his hands. “It was kinda hot, not gonna lie. Really funny looking back, though. Your turn, sweetheart.”

“Who is clumsier? Ooh, we’re both disasters off the ice. I tripped over the carpet about twenty minutes ago.”

“I’ve run into every doorframe in this house at least twice.” Sirius grimaced. “If I could just tape my skates to my feet and always be on ice, that would be much safer.”

Remus cocked his head to the side. “I dunno, it would be hard to sleep in them.”

“I do that all that time.”

“That’s true, you take a nap in the hall at least once a week in full gear.”

“Reverse Edward Scissorhands.” They had to take a moment to stop laughing before Sirius turned back to the phone. “Mon dieu. Alright, what do we have next…when did you know I was ‘the one’? When did you know, mon amour?”

“Breaking out the nicknames, very snazzy,” Remus teased as he rested his chin on his hand. “I think it was just an accumulation of things, and then one day I went ‘oh shit’ and just knew. Sometime around New Year’s, maybe?”

“You only made it two months?” Sirius teased, nudging him lightly.

“Shush, you.” Remus nudged him back. “I knew I wanted to propose when I came home from hanging out with Leo and you were napping with the dog. You had done the dishes and left Avatar on so we could watch it together, and I opened the door and knew that I wanted that moment forever.”

Sirius smile was unbearably soft, and he kissed Remus on the cheek as hearts filled the comments section. “I’ve never seen so many keysmashes in my life,” he laughed when he looked back to it. “Hey, someone addressed one to you specifically.”

“Really?” He leaned forward eagerly. “To Remus, do you feel like part of the team yet? I do, a hundred percent! It helped that I was close with a lot of the guys from being the PT, so those friendships carried over really well. Being a player on the roster has only made that better and it’s the best job in the world.”

“Who has the better smile? We’re going to say each other, so I think we’ll leave that one to the comments—fuck, that was a bad idea, it’s moving too fast for me to read!” Sirius tapped the screen desperately, then gave up and waited for the scrolling to slow down. “Ask each other one question you’ve always wanted to know the answer to.”

“Do you actually want to get your ears pierced?” Remus asked. “You talked about it a while ago but I wasn’t sure if you were kidding.”

Sirius thought for a minute, biting his lip. “Y’know, I might. It was one of those things where it started as a joke and then I kept thinking about it. I’m not sure, hockey’s not the best sport to have things that can catch and tear.” They both winced at the idea. “My turn. What is it about pineapple pizza that you actually enjoy?”

“It annoys you.” Remus laughed as Sirius rolled his eyes. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding! I honestly don’t know why I like it so much. There’s something about the sweetness that goes so well with the regular pizza taste. Okay, last question for me: how many freckles do I have? Not many right now.”

“So many in the summer,” Sirius said dreamily. “That’s the best part of summertime and the only reason I like Florida. They might have bouncy ice, but it’s worth it to see the freckles pop.”

“Whew, Florida’s getting mad in the comments!” Remus grinned. “Get some real ice, then come talk to us.”

“Final question, then we really have to go. What does your partner look best in?” Sirius drummed his fingers on his knees. “His jersey. Or my jersey. He does own a pair of skinny jeans, though, and that was the closest thing to a religious experience I’ve ever had.”

“They’re comfortable.” Remus shrugged, but he looked rather self-satisfied. “That’s all we have time for, folks, but thanks for joining us!”

“Go Lions!”

[ruzek-halstead]

i remember it all too well

julie has a hard week, but luke is there with excellent cuddling abilities. 

masterlist

It had been a hard week for Julie. While her music career with the boys was starting to take off, she was still a high school student first and had assignments and tests she couldn't ignore. On this day in particular, it was nearing one in the morning and Julie's eyeballs were burning with the need to sleep. But she couldn't, not yet. She had finished an essay for English nearly an hour ago, and she still had to study for a Biology test. At this point, she wasn't sure she was going to make it.

"Okay, what about this?" Julie let her head drop onto her textbook. The boys knew how much she had to get done tonight, and out of solidarity, they were lounged around her room to keep her company. It would have been fine, except Reggie was unable to stop talking at all times, Luke had his guitar and he also had an inability to stop strumming it. Alex recognized she needed peace and quiet, so he shushed his best friends every once in a while. But then Luke started creating riffs for a potential new song, so Alex forgot all about silence and started hitting any surface in the room that could substitute for his drum set. "That sounds sick, dude! Let me get my bass!" At the possibility of having a full-out jam session in her bedroom while she was trying to memorize the human body systems, Julie had to say something. "I really appreciate you guys sticking around, but I think I'm going to head to bed soon," Julie told them with an inevitable yawn. "I'll see you all in the morning." Julie avoided Luke's intense gaze, because he knew her too well. Of course she wasn't planning on going to bed yet, but if they thought so, they would retire for the night. "Okay," Reggie agreed, walking over to Julie to drop a quick kiss on the crown of her head. "Good luck on your test tomorrow! You're going to kill it, like always." Julie sent him a soft smile in return. "Thanks, Reg." "Yeah, you're going to do fantastic," Alex praised, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder. "You're the smartest person I know." "You're dead. You don't know many people," Reggie pointed out, staring in confusion. Alex whipped around to glare at him. "Yeah Reggie, I think she knows that." "Anyway, goodnight Jules, see you in the morning!" When she heard the tell-tale sign of their poof, she turned back around to hit the books. But she had been staring at the respiratory system for ages now and it just wasn’t working; she was so exhausted, her brain wasn’t retaining information anymore. “Hey,” Luke murmured quietly. Julie felt his hand crawl under her curls to the nape of her neck in a comforting gesture. “It’s time for some sleep.” His hand softly rubbed at the knots in her neck, then joined his other hand on her shoulders. Julie hummed in satisfaction. It had only been a few weeks that their entire dynamic changed and she was able to feel her newest best friends. And ever since then, they always found an excuse to be in touch with each other. It was amazing how close they’d all gotten immediately after the boys appeared, especially when they had no physical connection at all. Now that they did, they were sure to take full advantage. Luke was especially appreciative of his newfound corporealism. He had always been told that he was very touch-oriented; it was how he liked to show his affection, and it absolutely killed him and that he wasn’t able to do that with Julie. They became so close, so fast, and while it only strengthened their connection further, he could only imagine the possibilities if he had more of a physical ability. But now that he did, he used it to its full extent. “I’m not ready for this test,” Julie moaned, leaning her head down further. It allowed Luke more access to rub the tension out of her shoulders, but he feared her uncomfortable position may only do further damage to her spine. “Your test is during last period. You can study at lunch and during your free period,” he suggested. He had never seen Julie so physically and mentally exhausted and it genuinely worried him; he just wanted to take care of her. “Flynn even offered to help you.” Julie nodded her head. Truth be told, Luke’s ministrations coupled with her utter exhaustion was leading her to fall asleep right there and then. “Alright, it’s bed time,” Luke decided. He guided a sleepy Julie over to her bed and pulled the covers back so she could crawl in. Her curls fanned out across her pillow and he sat at the edge of her bed, mostly to gaze. For the first time that night, she looked so peaceful and he couldn't help himself when his hand snuck up to caress her cheek softly Julie leaned her head closer to his hand. "My brain is so fried. I don't even know what I don't know anymore." "Do you need anything else? I can sneak you that pint of Ben and Jerry's. I don't think Reggie's eaten all of it." "No, I don't want that," Julie replied. She took a moment to study his face, then met his gaze with a soft smile. "I could use a good cuddle though, if you're up to it." Luke kept his facial expression neutral and ignored the way his heartbeat accelerated dramatically. If it was what she needed, who was he to deny her that? Julie scooted over to the other end of the bed to give Luke room to slip in. He leaned back against the headboard and watched quietly as Julie gravitated towards him. She wrapped her arms around his waist and rested her head soundly against his chest. "Thanks for being here, Luke," she whispered lowly. Luke brought his arm down to wrap around her. "Of course." The silence was palpable, but it was nice. Luke's hand was softly caressing her arm, and as her breathing deepened, he was fairly convinced she fell asleep. Hypothetically, he could just poof out. But then Julie would quite literally fall through the space he was occupying and it would probably scare her awake and ruin all the relaxation they'd just accomplished. So instead, he started to extricate himself as easily and quickly as possible. But Julie held out; her grip tightened around his waist and he wasn't able to pull himself away. "Please stay." Luke was never good at saying no, much less to girls, and especially not to Julie. "Are you sure?" Luke chuckled nervously. "You got somewhere else to be?" She teased in an airy, sleepy tone. "A hot date, maybe?" He snorted. "Only if you count Reggie. He likes to cuddle too." Silence surrounded them again, and this time, he was certain Julie fell asleep. He was glad she was finally resting; it had been a tough week and he hated nothing more than to see her suffer and not be able to help (school was never his thing). Eventually he dozed off too. When Julie's alarm clock went off on her phone a few hours later, Luke jolted awake. He wasn't used to waking up to a blaring alarm, he was hardly even used to waking up at all. They never used to sleep before, but with their new abilities, along came a weakness. Julie rolled over to turn off her alarm, and when she looked up, she was definitely not expecting to see Alex and Reggie, sitting quietly at her desk with amused expressions. She squealed, relying on her instincts, which happened to be throwing the closest object in her possession (her phone). It hit Reggie square in the gut and he doubled over in pain. "Jesus Christ! Were you guys just watching like weirdos?" Luke finally noticed them as well, watching in amusement as Alex held Reggie up. "Oh, we used to watch you sleep all the time," Luke commented, solely because the horrified look on Julie's expression was worth it. "He's kidding," Alex added with an eye roll. "We are here because Luke didn't come home last night and we were worried sick." Reggie seemed to have recovered from his injury because he was smirking as he said his next few words. "But clearly, we were worried for nothing because he's fine." "Julie took good care of him," Alex teased. Julie's eyes flickered between the two, then back to Luke, who was holding back his own amused smirk. "I have to get ready for school. Get out of my room." "You're not even offering breakfast?" "OUT!" But even as they all filed out of the room, Julie sent Luke one more appreciative glance. 

x

haha, thanks for reading. just a little something i felt like writing. 

tagging: @grootsgillespie || @jayhalsteadcpd || @moreflowersthanweeds || @well-hes-just-too-cute || @echocharm17618 || @leopard-print-slippers || @jandthephantoms || @scribblingfangirl || @n0wornever || @simpformolina || @only-trust-fictional-characters || @snowmione18 || @tellurphantoms || @knitsessed || @carriewilsons || @elitharavenclaw || @wakeupfantoms || @uselessnerdnherblahg || @anotheronechicagobog || @katie-navarro || @bookwormswillruletheworld || @lmaohuh || @unsaid-emily

(p.s. this is everyone on my juke taglist, please let me know if you’d like to be removed so i’m not clouding up your notifications unnecessarily!! :)

join my taglist here

[chickwiththepurpleguitar]

For the prompts and because now I need it: Willex + Kangaroo 💕

- sunsetsandcurves

Okay! So, I know your official prompt was Willex, but I decided to do Reggie Outsider POV cause I don’t write him enough, and then it... got away from me... And I accidentally wrote Julie/Luke/Reggie again (and apparently I’m only capable of writing in Reggie’s POV if he’s pining...) but I also wrote he/they Willie on purpose this time! Anyway, hopefully you like this, but if it’s not satisfactory just drop another ask in my box and I’ll write a part two that actually has more Alex and Willie in it.

Also I kind of inadvertently referenced your last Willex flower ficlet in this lol. Anyway, enjoy :)

--

“Hey, Hotdog. Kangaroo.”

Reggie’s head snaps up from where he’s been peering suspiciously at a wagon of precariously-stacked apples, trying to see if he can knock them over with his mind (so far, he’s been unsuccessful). Across the aisle, Willie has just plucked a bundle of radishes (bushel of radishes? Reggie’s not well-versed in the collective nouns of vegetables) off a table and hands them to Alex, trailing obediently along behind them. Alex rolls his eyes, stuffs the radishes in his fanny pack, and leaves a couple dollars on the table. 

They’re all at a Farmers’ Market by Julie’s school. She had to go to do research for an Economics project, and she graciously let her ghosts boys (and Willie) tag along. They’re having one of their “visibility to lifers is hard” days, so (as Willie has continuously reminded them) they could probably steal whatever produce they want and get away with it. But Julie gave them each a stern talk and twenty dollars at the entrance, so Alex has put it upon himself to pay for everything Willie tries to convince him to smuggle away in his fanny pack.

Alex and Willie move on to a station selling flowers, and Reggie abandons his apple staring contest to bound along behind them. He hopes Willie will say again what Reggie thinks he just said, because Reggie might have just imagined it but he doesn’t know how to ask.

Luckily, he doesn’t have to wait long. Willie plucks a pretty purple flower out of a pile and tucks it behind Alex’s ear (Alex wrinkles his nose out of instinct, but it’s not like he still has hayfever as a ghost). Then, Willie grabs a handful of seed packets, stuffs them in Alex’s hands, and says, “Kangaroo.”

Reggie’s mouth drops open. So they did say it! He scans his surroundings, craning his neck to see all the way to the entrance of the Farmers’ Market, but there’s no sign of an Australian marsupial anywhere. Not that Reggie had really been expecting to see one in the middle of Los Angeles, California, but why else would Willie be talking about them unless he’d seen one?

Reggie spins in a full circle until he catches sight of Luke and Julie over by the baked goods. He spares one last glance back at Alex and Willie (who seem to be bickering over the ethics of stealing flower petals out of the trash now) and then poofs across the market, appearing next to Luke and Julie by a stand selling bread and cookies.

“Hey, Reg,” Luke says without looking up. He’s got a chocolate chip cookie in one hand and a frosted sugar cookie in the other, and he’s looking back and forth between them like they’re the players of an extremely entertaining tennis match.

Reggie shoots Julie a questioning look. She rolls her eyes fondly and explains, “I told him he can only have one cookie. He’s been trying to decide for the last twenty minutes.”

“I’m narrowing it down,” Luke insists.

Julie laughs, and the sound sends a burst of fluttery happiness through Reggie’s chest. He grins, and almost forgets what he came over here to say in the first place, until Julie says, “Anyway. What have you been getting yourself up to, Reggie?”

He rocks back and forth on his heels. “Not too much. Bought some kiwis. Had an altercation with an apple cart. Mostly just third-wheeled Alex and Willie.”

He tries not to sound too bitter about it, but he’s not sure it works. He loves his friends, so much, and of course he wants them to be happy, but he can’t deny he feels a little left out sometimes, when they all pair off for date night, or hold hands on the sidewalk, and Reggie’s just… there.

(Part of him wants to find someone for himself, so that they can be three couples instead of two. Another, much more repressed, part of him wants there to still only be two couples, just… one of them has three people in it. He doesn’t know if that’s something he’s allowed to want, though, or even something that’s okay to think about, so he tries not to, and he doesn’t say a word about it to anyone, especially not Luke or Julie.)

“Aw, Reg,” Julie says, drawing him back to the present. She puts a hand on his arm, and Reggie beams, hoping he’s not blushing too visibly. “Well, I don’t know if third-wheeling us is any better, but you’re welcome to hang out!”

Reggie deflates. Right. Still third-wheeling. Because they’re still LukeAndJulie. And Reggie’s just there.

He pastes on a grin and deftly changes the subject. “Anyway, I wanted to ask you guys—you haven’t seen a kangaroo around here anywhere, have you?”

Luke finally looks up from his cookies to give Reggie one of his patented Hey, Reg, you’re a dumbass looks (they used to be insulting, but considering Reggie’s been on the receiving end of them since literally 1978, he’s used to them by now).

Julie, ever the angel, just settles for a politely confused frown and repeats, “Kangaroo?”

“Yeah,” Reggie says. “Willie kept saying stuff to Alex about a kangaroo, but I didn’t know if they meant, like, a real kangaroo or a stuffed one or something, but I didn’t see either, so I figured I’d ask you guys.”

Luke frowns thoughtfully. “Are you sure it’s not a gay thing? Maybe it’s a gay thing.”

Julie whacks him with her purse. “It is not a—who are you?” While Luke rubs his arm with a pout, she asks Reggie, “What was the context for this?”

“There wasn’t any!” Reggie insists. “He just kept handing Alex stuff to put in his fanny pack and saying, ‘Kangaroo.’”

Julie pulls her phone out of her back pocket, muttering, “Hold up. Maybe…” She types for a second, Luke attempting to slip both cookies in her purse while she’s distracted (she swats his hand away without looking up), and then exclaims, “Here we go!” and holds her phone out for Reggie to see. “In some countries, that belt bag Alex wears is referred to as a kangaroo! Cause it’s a pouch, I guess.”

“Definitely a better name than fanny pack,” Luke muses, guiding Julie by the wrist to turn the phone around for him. They bend their heads together, giggling over whatever article Julie found, and Reggie’s enthusiasm fades into a hardened pit in his stomach.

He mutters an awkward goodbye and poofs back across the market, not bothering to wait for Luke and Julie to notice.

An hour later, Reggie returns to the bakery stand and buys the last chocolate chip cookie (since Luke eventually chose the frosted one). When he catches up with his friends at the exit, he sidles up between Alex and Willie, holds the cookie out, and says, “Hey, Alex! Can you please put this in your…” He pauses dramatically and winks at Willie. “Kangaroo?”

“Oh, my god,” Alex sighs, dropping his head into his hands.

“Eyyy!” Willie cheers, giving Reggie an enthusiastic fist bump. “I knew it’d catch on!”

Reggie grins. He’s okay being the third wheel on good days like this. He just loves his friends so much.

--

Taglist: @whenweremarried @sunsethimb0s @pink-flame @penguin0613 @fighttoshine @sunsetcurvecuddles @nickalicious @reggiescrookedteeth @brightattheorpheum @queenmolina @spidergirl0325 @jandthephantoms @lexilucacia @sapphossidechick @acnhaddict @cest-la-vie-de-la-lee @sunset-bobby @lenacarstairspotterstewart @conversationaltreestump @burntchromas @sunsetsandcurves 

[wizisbored]

Ok to start I absolutely loved the start of bitb 2, loved lydia interacting with sky like that. Lydia confusing all the nurses is so funny to me I love it. I kinda had an idea here, cuz lydia’s gonna be spending a lot of time in the hospital, and I kinda feel like she’d see a bunch of ghosts bc duh it’s a hospital, and also I find it hard to believe everyone follows the rule book. I feel like there’s at least a few who saw that rule and just went no <3 I’m not going to this netherworld. Haven’t decided if they’re nice or they keep being mean or bug her, in which beej would scare them away. If he can’t scare any of the breathers some ghosts bothering lydia will do.

Also ohhhhh ohhhhh that angsty bugebroph concept is just so >>>>>>

Like I imagine beej just suggested the first born child thing as like a cliche dramatic moment and when charles agrees, internally he’s just like that was??? A joke??? And you seriously just gave up your daughter that quickly???? Ok cool so I’m taking her far away from this piece of shit. Lydia’s initially kinda pissed at bj but it doesn't last between “kid I suggested the whole first born thing as a joke” the fact that her father agreed so quickly and the fact that beej is pretty chill. I’m kinda imagining her as reg bugebroph but with More Rage.

Also just had this thought of emily recovering and charles explaining what happened and emilys rightfully pissed and just straight up leaves him and immediately leaves to find an actual legit psychic or medium or whoever she can find to try and contact this demon again and get her daughter back

aw thanks! i was a little nervous about starting the sequel because obviously it couldnt open with the same impact the first did, so im glad you like it! definately looking forward to writing more of lydia and skye. i did consider hospital ghosts but it would be this whole new thing to add (but i do actually have an in-universe excuse for the lack of ghosts.) definately fun to think about tho, im imagining a bbc ghosts type situation where theyre all mildly annoying but ultimately harmless and lydia is their long-suffering medium.

and as for the firstborn au i am so ready to develop and talk about this shit fuck yea. was definately thinking about beej quickly realising that charles probably shouldnt have this kid if hes so willing to give her to a fucking demon. but lydia, yeah shes definately angry but shes also fucking scared. tries not to show it but like this is terrifying for the poor kid and she really has no way to know that beetlejuice is telling the truth about having no real motive to take her. its going to take a while for her to start trusting him. and what makes her different from bugebroph is that bug is entirely comfortable among ghosts and demons and sees herself as more one of them than a breather, whereas here lydia didnt even know ghosts existed and now suddenly shes wrapped up in the supernatural (plus, im not sure id have her spend as much time in the netherworld as bugebroph. if im going to develop this seperately i want to go in another direction yknw). dont get me wrong though theres definately a lot of rage going on here at almost everyone involved in this situation. its lydia against the world, from her perspective.

also yeah charles is gonna get his arse Divorced like what the fuck dude? i know im the one who made him do this but like how did he think this would go.

[asiriuscrushonmoonyx]

Hi, Could you write a lil something or have Headcanons about Jegulus and how Sirius reacts to them?

I don’t usually write Jegulus, so I hope this is alright! 

Warning: slightly nff, swearing

“Crap,” Sirius said, slamming his Transfiguration book shut on the desk.  Remus sighed and looked up from his own book.

“Let me guess,” Remus said.  “You’ve suddenly come up with a reason why you can’t do your homework… again?”

“It’s 8:30,” Sirius said quickly.  “On 7th April.”

“And?”

“Peter’s birthday,” Sirius said, glancing around quickly to make sure Peter wasn’t in sight.  “Tomorrow.”

“Oh- OH,” Remus said, eyes widening.  “Oh Merlin, how did we forget?!”

“We need to sneak into Hogsmeade and get him something.”

“At this time of night?” Remus said, closing his own book. “Not a chance.”

“When I say ‘get him something’ I mean ‘steal him something’.”

“Sirius, no.”

“Yes.”

Remus sighed, knowing there wasn’t any point in arguing – when Sirius had this glint in his eyes, nothing could change his mind.

“Well,” Remus said, popping his book into his bag.  “I guess we better get the cloak.  And we’d better be quick about it before Peter realises we’ve disappeared.”

..

“I can’t find the cloak anywhere,” Sirius said, dropping James’s mattress back onto his bed.  “James must have it on him right now.”

“Where’s Peter, anyway?”

“I think he’s in detention for that dung bomb,” Sirius said. “We have time.”

Remus nodded.  “Okay great, I’ll grab the map and check if James is still raiding the kitchens and we’ll get the cloak off him.”

..

Remus and Sirius glanced down at the Marauder’s Map, scanning for James’s name near the kitchens.  He’d left an hour ago stating he was planning on getting food for a midnight feast, but he had been gone a suspiciously long time.  

“Where the hell is he?”

“I dunno,” Remus said, opening the map up so that they could see more of the Hogwarts grounds.  It took a good few minutes, but finally he spotted the name ‘James Potter’ in what seemed to be a broom cupboard.  He pointed at James’s name, getting Sirius’s attention.  Suddenly James’s name changed into the name ‘Regulus Black’ and then it was back to ‘James Potter’ again.

“Why did it say my brother’s name?” Sirius asked.

“That’s really weird,” Remus said.  They watched and it happened again.  “They… uh… must be standing near each other so the map can’t decide which name to show?”

“Why the hell is James hanging out with that little git?”

“Let’s go and find out,” Remus said, folding the map and putting it into his robes pocket.  “We need to hurry if we’re going to get something for Peter’s birthday before he gets back from detention.”

..

The entire way down to the broom cupboard they’d seen on the map, Sirius had been speculating why they were hanging out together.  Drugs, black magic, planning a surprise party for Sirius’s birthday – Remus had to remind him that his birthday wasn’t for another six months – but Sirius had come up with every possible reason for James and Regulus to be hanging out apart from the actual reason…

When they arrived at the door of the broom cupboard, Remus raised his hand to knock on the door politely, but before he could even touch the door, Sirius had already shoved the door open.

The door wouldn’t open fully – someone was standing right behind it, stopping it from opening.  Sirius heard swearing from behind the door and hurried movement, and then frantic whispers, while the person behind the door was pushing the door back hard, trying to close it again.

“Open the door,” Sirius yelled through the door.

He pressed his ear to the door and heard the hushed words, “it’s Sirius!” and “fuck” and “hide somewhere” and “where am I gonna hide, it’s a broom cupboard!?” and “here, take this” before James loudly cleared his throat and said “Sirius! Hey!”

Suddenly the door opened, and James stood alone in the empty broom cupboard grinning guiltily from ear to ear.  “What’re you doing here?”

Sirius peered around behind James and folded his arms. “I could ask you the same.”

“We need the cloak,” Remus said impatiently, rolling his eyes at Sirius’s dramatics.  “It’s urgent. We forgot Peter’s birthday is tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow?” James said.  “Oh.  Wow. We really fucked up.  Huh, sorry guys, but I… er… I don’t have the cloak on me at the moment.  Actually I lost it.”

“You lost it?” Remus said in disbelief.  “And you waited till now to tell us?”

“He didn’t lose it, Remus,” Sirius said, not buying his bullshit.  “It’s right here in this tiny cramped little broom cupboard, isn’t it, James?”

“Are you okay, mate?” James asked Sirius, laughing nervously.  “If I had it I’d be going with you guys to buy Pete’s presents.”

“Are you okay?” Sirius asked.  “Hanging out in a broom cupboard “alone”?”

“I thought I left my wand in here earlier after Quidditch practice,” James shrugged.

“Hm,” Sirius said, stepping into the cupboard.  He could almost feel James tense next to him. Remus was sighing again.  “It’s really dusty in here, really dusty. Did you know my little baby brother is allergic to dust?  It makes him sneeze.”

“Okay?”

Sirius grabbed a nearby broom and starting wiping dust across the stony floor, making little dusty clouds.  

“What are you doing?” James said, trying to grab the broom off Sirius.

“It’s dusty in here,” Sirius said.  “I already said that – just thought it could use a clean.”

“Give that to me.”

“Why?”

“Just give it!”

A quiet sneeze broke up the argument and Sirius looked gleeful.  “AHA!” he said, “knew it!”

Suddenly, James let out the fakest-sounding sneeze Sirius had ever heard.  “Maybe I’m allergic to dust too?”

“Oh shut up, I know he’s in here.  Reggie, you can come out!”

“Are you stupid? Why would he be in here?”

Sirius rolled his eyes and started feeling around the room. He was nearing the far corner of the cupboard when suddenly Regulus’s head appeared out of thin air.

“Sorry,” Regulus said to James, “he was about to find me anyway.”

Sirius glanced back at James to see him giving Reg an irritated look.

They started bickering about getting caught and Sirius couldn’t really concentrate because all he could see was Reg’s angry head seemingly hanging in mid-air, bodiless.  He grabbed the invisibility cloak off Reg quickly.

“Mind telling me what the hell is going on?” he said, glancing first at James and then at Reg, and almost throwing the cloak back at him because his little brother was practically naked.

Regulus grabbed the cloak and covered himself, his cheeks turning pink.  

“Please tell me what’s going on.  Someone explain before I come to the wrong conclusion…”

“Tell him,” Regulus said to James.

Remus was now peering into the broom cupboard too, too interested in what was going on to think about how they were so late getting Peter’s gift.

James sighed and ran a hand through his messy hair.  “Prefect Duties.”

“Pre- prefect duties?” Sirius almost laughed.  “You aren’t even a prefect!”

Remus cleared his throat.  “Yeah, and I am.  And we don’t have any prefect duties tonight.”

James cast Remus an annoyed look. “I’m the head boy, so sometimes Dumbledore asks me to patrol and sometimes I take some prefects with me.”

“So you took my naked brother on duty with you?”

“Yes.  I mean, no. I mean… er… Reg?”

Regulus was now only a head again.  “I fell in the black lake and had to change??”

“You fell in the black lake?”

“Yep. James was just about to get me some dry clothes.”

“How come your hair isn’t wet?”

James folded his arms. “What is this? Some kind of interrogation?”

Sirius was about to say something back, but Remus stepped further into the room.  “Look, we really need to get going if we’re gonna get Peter’s present, so James, please just admit you were hooking up with Sirius’s brother and then we can get on our way.”

“HOOKING UP?” Sirius practically yelled.

“Thanks, Remus,” James said.  “Hey, Sirius, listen… what Remus said… it’s not tr-”

“-It’s true,” Regulus cut in.  “James and I are together.  A couple.  Dating. Close your mouth, you look like a dementor.”

“What Regulus means is-”

“-No, James.  No point hiding it anymore.  We need to stop sneaking around and hooking up in broom cupboards all because we’re scared of how he’ll react.  He just has to deal with it.”

“He has a name,” Sirius said through gritted teeth. “So you two are… nope.  Nope.  I don’t approve.  James, he’s a BABY.  You can’t…. oh god… oh god oh god, is this why he’s naked?”

James looked for once at a loss for words.

“Yes, Sirius, that’s why I’m naked.  I’m not a baby either.  And It’s really none of your business who I date.”

“OH GOD!” Sirius cried, turning to Remus.  “JAMES DEFLOWERED MY BABY BROTHER!”

Remus rolled his eyes and leaned back against the door. “Like Regulus said, it’s none of your business,” he turned to Regulus, “can we have the cloak please?”

“IS NOBODY GOING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THAT JAMES IS DATING MY BROTHER?”

James shrugged his robes off and tossed them over to Regulus, and Regulus quickly shrugged the invisibility cloak off and put James’s robes on.  He threw the invisibility cloak to Remus.

“HELLO??!!”

“Come on, Sirius, let’s go,” Remus said, attempting to drag Sirius away.

“No.  No.  I don’t accept this.”

“Hey, Pads, look on the bright side… we could be brother’s-in-law one day!” James said.  This only made Sirius madder.

“SO NOW YOU’RE PLANNING ON MARRYING HIM?!”

“Ugh, Sirius, grow up,” Regulus said.  “People get into relationships. They don’t need approval from their brother or from their best friend.  If they’re in love, they’re in love.”

“SO NOW YOU’RE IN LOVE?!!?”

“Merlin,” James breathed.  “Yes, Sirius.  Yes, I love him.  Sorry to break it to you.”

“BUT HE’S- HE’S PRACTICALLY A CHILD!”

“He’s literally a year younger than us,” James said.  “You and Remus were his age when I caught you two going doggy-style on McGonagall’s-“

“OKAY OKAY OKAY! ENOUGH!” Remus shouted, face bright red.

“Yeah, enough,” Regulus said quickly, looking disgusted.

“HA!” Sirius said, pointing at Reg’s disgusted face.  “See that face?  That’s exactly how I feel about the thought of the two of you doing Merlin knows what in this tiny little broom cupboard.”

“Okay, so… you’re disgusted by the thought of Reg with someone and he’s disgusted by the thought of you with someone.  Feeling’s mutual.  Get over it,” James said.

“James is right, Sirius,” Remus said, tugging at the sleeve of Sirius’s robes.  “Let them be. It’s not your place to judge.”

Sirius still looked angry and disgusted but he exhaled slowly.  “Fine,” he said.  “But let’s get one thing straight – James, if you hurt Reg I will murder you.  And Reg, if you hurt James I’ll murder you.  And if I ever see you two so much as hold hands I’ll-”

“-Sirius,” Remus hissed.  “They’re in a relationship.  Stop being an idiot.”

“FINE!” Sirius said dramatically.  “If I ever catch you with your tongue down my brother’s throat, you won’t have a tongue!”

James looked as though he was trying not to laugh, but nodded. Regulus was just rolling his eyes. “We can kiss if we want to, we don’t need your permission.”

“Look, you do whatever you need to do but I just don’t wanna see or hear it, okay?” Sirius said uncomfortably.  

“Okay,” James agreed.  “But in that case, I don’t want any more of your elaborate stories about how you and Remus fucked upside down on a broomstick while-“

“OKAY!”

“You told him about that!?” Remus whispered in embarrassment.  Sirius shrugged sheepishly.

“So let’s just all agree that we all accept each other’s relationships but we don’t need to know any more than necessary?” James said. Regulus and Remus both nodded. That just left Sirius, who was still looking irritated.

“Sirius?”

“Fine,” he groaned.

“Good.”

“We need to go, Sirius,” Remus said impatiently.  “Come on.”

Sirius slowly shuffled out the room, glancing back briefly and mumbling so quietly that he could barely be heard, “Even though I hate it, I’m happy for you both”, and continuing down the corridor.  

He stopped a few metres away from the broom cupboard and rushed back.

“HA! CAUGHT IN THE ACT!” he yelled, peering into the room and finding James and Regulus in the exact same spots they’d been moments ago, lips nowhere near each other.  “Oh,” he said awkwardly.  “Just testing you.  Good work.”

James rolled his eyes. “Bye, Sirius.”

“See ya,” Sirius said, leaving them alone.  They could hear Sirius talking about them all the way down the corridor until finally he couldn’t be heard anymore.

James waited a solid two minutes before closing the cupboard door and this time locking it.  He turned to Regulus and smirked.  “Wanna get back down on your knees and finish what you started?”

Regulus snorted, getting dressed.  “Maybe next time.  Sirius is the equivalent of a cold shower.”

“Aw, come on.  We just got started.  I’ll let you do that thing you love…”

Regulus was on his knees in seconds.  “I’m ready.”

James smiled triumphantly.  

[katewaliss]

! write with me or fight with me!

you either die by my sword or the most painful head canons imaginable! *merida vc* choose yer fate

just kidding!

 hey there gaymers, i am crissy! i am 22, live in pst, go by she/her pronouns and honestly would very much like a distraction from life -- preferably in the form of 1x1 and rp in general. i am currently doing online school plus trying/failing at adulting, being a crazy pink haired college student living on microwave dimsum with my crazy fluffy demon cat, but that still leaves me with a lot of time and what better way to spend that time then crying and dying, am i right, boys? 

so without further ado ( adieu? idk gusundheit ) here are a list of discomboblulated plot things that have been floating around in my head that i might be fun to do ( plot fragments, ideas, ocs, fcs i like, settings, genres etc )! i’d prefer a message if u liked any of these in the inbox or dm form, my tumblr ims are open and my discord user is mr. worldwide#2918 ( pitbull supremacy ) but if ur shy i will message u and be annoying! 

lastly: i prefer hcing in the dms to replies, however i will do replies/ask memes slowly, i don’t really like making blogs and prefer google docs/discord and i ask ( gently and respectfully ) that minors do not interact.

thank u and happy hunger games! xx

COLLEGE TOTALLY SPIES -- i was really obsessed with this picture right here and i thought that the picture would be a good premise for a little four person group based on totally spies. i was thinking that these three college students/young adults some friends maybe not some enemies or just on completely different ends of the social agenda get bonded together when they accidentally end up roped in a top secret spy organization that is fronted by a record store. the details and flesh of the plot i think would be cute to figure out all together maybe in a google doc or a big discord so we can make the rp to perfect world building specifications. right now i have two spots open! 

my friend lexi over at comradc has taken the cool goth asian girl and is using lyrica okano

i am playing the freckly backwards hat lesbian in the red polo named aj mccallis and i think im using diana silvers ( not sure might switch to tati rodriguez )

we also have the cute blond girl w the dyed hair who is giving me kind of like sydney sweeney energies, blonde girl maybe like lalisa manoban/jinsoul,

and we have the rad black girl with the bandids who i would only accept black fcs for for such as diamond white, ryan destiny, salem mitchell, 

i’d prefer if this stayed kind of sapphic and female and enby friendly. we can def make make npcs and characters but i’d prefer if the characters looked like they do in the picture ( minus the white girls who can be racebent as long as there are vibes ) mostly bc i want the poc people to stay the correct poc! but yeah! if u like this message me specifically!!!!! seperately and hit me w a role ud like maybe an fc an idea anything < 3 im working on a google doc and discord sever

- i really want to play a himbo skater boy evan mock like its my dream i know nothing abt him other than he probably goes by something like mouth or juice or tris or dex or dante but !!!! he has buzzed hair he buzzes designs into, does stick n pokes, hates cops, will kiss anyone, likes to mosh at house shows, smokes a lot and sounds like crush from finding nemo, probably ur parents worst nightmare if im honest rodrick heffley energy -- adopt him for any plot

- i also really am obsessed with simay barlas who is my mascot rn -- i want to play her in some sort of dark academia setting with like gossip girl blair waldorf energies lu from elite and have her be really mean and cold and pretentious and play the cello and probably have secrets and be uptight idk the name mallory is resonating hard w me ( we could even do a gossip girl the secret history type group if people liked that ) 

-ok i also really really want to play streak aka silas montgomery who is like very like sidekick best friend to the golden boy main character, does a kick ass goat impression, class clown, relentlessly hits on like the most difficult person in school, does crazy things for laughs and attention, just wants to make people happy, only wears hawaiian shirts, finger guns, is going nowhere in life, his dad is probably the dean at whatever prestigious school also he is very very depressed and drinks often! love u! a I Feel Like Im The Worst So I Always Act Like Im The Best electra heart baby PINTEREST

also yes his hair is pink reg verse he did it on a dare but hp verse he did a potion wrong and it never came out

SOMEONE DO A LADY HANNIBAL WILL GRAHAM RP KILLING EVE RP W ME! i made this will graham adjacent gal for a genderbent hannigram rp her name is bisexual disaster enida johnson and sometimes goes by needy or will bc her middle name is willamena! has basically all the will things wears flannels is a mess but has a bunch of cats instead of dogs in her woods log cabin and im using crystal reed bc it fits perfect in my head idk if u like her hmu hit me w a lady hannibal PINTEREST

other stuff

ok i really want to do a princess and knight plot but with knight zendaya and princess anya taylor joy ???? ALKHALKSHALK LITERALLY HELLO literally modern or like dnd style i do not care but know i love dnd! we could make it like them goin on some skyrim quests like hi

speaking of dnd and skyrim if anyone wants to do like anything based in dnd stuff or skyrim stuff i am DOWN

jennifers body plot!!!! maybe set in college!!!!! sounds spicy i will do a f/f or m/m version leggo leggo 

UNTIL DAWN UNTIL DAWN!!!! i wanted to do a little like 6 person or mumu until dawn thing where everyone either makes new characters or characters based on the existing six! i made a girl adjacent josh character named riley PINTEREST who i love very much ( fc might change im thinking maybe medallion rahimi ) pls hmu if ur down

i looooooove breakfast at tiffanys!!!! like i really love breakfast at tiffanys we love a call girl broody author ship and i want to play a mishti rahman holly golightly type character so so bad 

pygmalion plot!!! basically like an author and the main character of their book comes to life and the book character is probably from a different period of time or realm so doesnt know how to do modern 2020 stuff like microwaves and the tv! and then maybe they get sucked into the characters book world thats written by the author and have to navigate that! enchanted! w the kdrama! energy!

GOSSIP GIRL PLOT ENERGIES

any sort of the secret history murder society until dawn ahs horror type setting i am on a kick rn 

i still really want a deaf sailor and siren plot bc that is so spicy or even like anything involving sirens like maybe one thats like vegetarian and doesnt like to eat humans so it ariel rescues one and keeps it safe!! or like only men are susceptible to the sirens song but aha! i am a woman! Romance!

anything in the realm of percy jackson i love mythology lets go i kind of want a echo narcisuss plot and i want it to hurt me so bad 

i will do harry potter stuff but only if its completely removed from the current canon like years in the future no existing families also maybe beauxbatons salem and drumstrang plots bc thats what matters

iiiiiiiii really like anime so i will do anything kakegurui, soul eater, ohshc

i kind of like grew up on the hunger games so i will gladly take any hunger games plots like young effie and haymitch is spicy or like a career tribute and one of the weaker poorer distracts enemies to lovers leggo

i have a kind of oc that had their parents die in a factory gas leak that was the governments fault and it turned them into a vigilante assasin that is slowly picking off bootlicker government people one by one pretending to be one of them until bam! gets attached to the rich asshole son or daughter of the head hauncho or one of the higher ups ... drama

rich little celebrity fussy wussy being held captive by the mafia and the tired stoic mafia guard but they fall in love 

i kind of like any plot that involves one person that is really loud or angry or dramatic or whiny and the other one is kind of sweet and gentle or does not talk much idk make brain happy 

speaking of!

no nonsense law student studying abroad in a european country and an artist there falls in love w them and is all romantic and gush and is like ur my muse!!! and they are like Go awAy and they explore the city together and themelseves its nice!

i want to be an avan jogia super villain idk why i need to but i do 

not to be a disney adult bc i am not but anastasia princesses dont kiss kitchen boys 

rival cheer captians? best friends brother? pop princess celebrity singer and like antiestablishment really angry rockstar in a publicity relationship? broody detective and sunshiney diner person that works at the diner they eat at everyday?

idk i will think of more hmu these can all be made f/f or m/m if they arent 

[logical-little-lies]

{Chapter 5- When The Other Brother is Bigger}//Soft, Cute, and Far Smarter Than You (Sanders Sides Agere/CGLRE)

A/N: This chapter is like, longer then most of the ones I tend to write? I write agere content for fun, so sometimes it's cuteness over quantity, y'know? But this is a whole 4600-ish words! Wow. Hope y'all like it!

--

Logan was a bit awkward when he was big again after throwing his first fit, and earning himself his first ever timeout. Of course, Patton could only comfort him so much. It wasn't guilt that he was feeling, but rather a form of embarrassment.

Logan's head shot up when he heard light knocking on his door the following afternoon. "Who is it?" he questioned from his spot at his desk, where he sat working on Thomas's schedule.

"It's Virgil, can I come in?"

Logan fully expected it to be Patton checking on him for the millionth time, so he was shocked when he heard the voice of the emo regressor. "Uh, yeah. Sure." Logan set down his pen softly, reaching forward for his mug and taking a sip.

"Are you drinking another cup of coffee? I know you had like, three this morning." Virgil narrowed his eyes. It wasn't as if he'd actually do anything, even if he was aware of the unhealthy amounts of coffee Logan drank, but he was still concerned.

"It's tea." Logan shook his head, tipping the cup in his direction so that he could see the clearish liquid before setting the mug back on his desk. "Did you need something, Virge?" Logan asked.

"Kinda of.." Virgil trailed off, sitting down on the end of Logan's bed. When he looked up, he saw Logan looking at him in an expecting silence. "So I know it's Patton's job to check in on you and stuff, and that I don't usually do this. But..are you okay after yesterday? You seemed really emotional and anxious."

Logan sighed before speaking. "Of course I'm fine. I just overreacted when Patton punished me because I was scared of him being mad at me. It doesn't make a lot of sense, but three year old me doesn't want to make sense."

Virgil chuckled a bit at that. "It does make a bit of sense though. I do it too, I assume that just because Roman has to be a little strict or something, that he absolutely hates me. It's not stupid or anything."

Logan nodded, giving him a small thankful smile. This was Virgil's way of telling him that he wasn't alone. The same mutual feeling that came about when they both realized they were regressors spread between them. A feeling of unity, of support.

Of family.

"And also, if you're embarrassed or anything, don't worry about it. I'm sure Patton understands that little you is going to do things like that sometimes, and he won't view big you any differently." There it was. Virgil finding what Logan was actually worried about. Logan had the urge to give a sigh of relief, because those were the words he needed to hear.  

Instead, he gave a larger smile and thanked him. "Okay, cool. See you at dinner." Virgil got up and went to leave the room, he paused at the door with hesitancy, looking back at him and speaking quickly.

"Also, I'm like pretty sure Patton has a crush on big you. So there's that."  

Virgil was gone and out of the room before Logan even got the chance to retort.

Logan sighed, going back to organizing the schedule and trying to convince himself that it couldn't possibly be true, and focus on his work. But no matter how hard he tried, his mind wondered and he thought:

What if Virgil was right?

--

"Oh, hello Logan. I went to check on you but I guess you were already up." Patton entered the living room, where Logan was on his phone. Patton assumed that if Logan was already up, he probably had work to get done today and wanted to be wide awake for it. He figured that the coffee mug on the coffee table in front of Logan confirmed his original thoughts.

"Morning, Dad. What are we having for breakfast?" he asked, looking up from his phone and making Patton pause in his tracks. Patton went to speak, but Logan quickly replied to his unasked question. "I'm fourteen again, by the way."

"How did you know that I was going to-"

"I figured you'd ask how old I am, you always do. Anyways, what's for breakfast?" he repeated. "I can try to make something myself but I don't know how well that would go..." he admitted.

"It's okay,don't worry about that." Patton assured, "I'll make toast for breakfast-" He went to keep speaking but Logan cut him off.

"Do we have Crofters to put on it?"

"You're just full of questions today, aren't you?" Patton teased, deciding to come sit with his regressor. He sat next to Logan, making sure not to look at his phone screen in order to respect his privacy. Logan turned it off, looking at him. Patton realized he wasn't amused by the teasing and that he wasn't going to respond. "Yes, we have Crofters." He gave up.

Logan was definitely excited about this, and if he was regressed younger, he would've bounced in place and giggled a bunch. But he just replied, "Okay, cool."

"Why are you up so early?" Patton questioned. "How long have you been awake?"

"Less than an hour. I just fell asleep watching Youtube last night, earlier then I usually go to sleep. So I woke up early," he explained. Patton paused, looking at him skeptically.

"Were you regressed last night, as well?"

Logan looked at him with wide eyes, as if he hoped he wasn't going to ask about that. "Uh..yeah, sort of. But it was after dinner and I was ready for bed, I didn't really need to come get you!" he defended.

Patton gave him a slightly stern look with a sigh. "Alright, but if you do need something, or regress younger then your teenspace, come and get me." he instructed. Logan nodded with an annoyed look on his face. Patton glanced at the coffee table, eyes widening when he saw the coffee mug again.

"Wait, why are you drinking coffee if your reg-"

"What coffee?" Logan cut him off, quickly snatching up the mug and chugging the last of it before Patton could take the mug. He wiped his upper lip with the back of his hand, giving Patton a dorky smile. Patton knew he shouldn't have, but he laughed a bit.

"Fourteen year olds shouldn't have coffee, no more." Patton took the mug from him softly. "If I catch you drinking anymore, you'll be in trouble." he threatened halfheartedly, still giving him the stern dad look. Logan immediately replied with a cheeky smile.

"You just won't catch me next time."

Patton seemed shocked. "You're gonna be bouncing off the walls whenever the caffeine kicks in, and I don't wanna be the one to deal with that."

"I mean..." Logan leaned back into the couch, "Do you have a choice? You're technically my only carer, and I've already drank it. And plus, I'm not a baby. Sugar and caffeine won't make me hyper." he scoffed at the end of his statement.

"We'll see about that, sweetheart." Patton gave him a skeptical look before getting up. "I'll go start breakfast, how about you get off your phone and do something else? Like read your comic books or something."

"I'll get off my phone..." Logan agreed quickly, shocking Patton. That excitement went away when Logan grabbed the tv remote and pushed the power button. He gave Patton a smile, while Patton gave him a disappointed look.

"That's not what I meant, and you know it." he said, crossing his arms as he watched him locate Netflix.

"I don't know anything. You told me to get off my phone,and in all technicality, I did." Logan started playing whatever show he was interested in at the time, and Patton leaned forward to kiss his forehead. He wasn't going to bother with pushing it anymore.

"Love you, Lo. I'll let you know when breakfast is ready."

He left, mug in his hand, disappearing into the kitchen. A little while later, he had butter,honey, and Crofters jelly sitting out on the table, along with a plate of stacked up pieces of toast.

"Babyyyy! Can you get Roman and Virgil for me?" He appeared in the door way of the kitchen, looking at whatever Logan was watching on the screen. Logan looked back at him, looking back to the screen after a few seconds of thinking.

"Maybe if you'd stop calling me baby."

"Logan." Patton stated in a simple and stern tone, crossing his arms again. Logan dramatically sighed, but he hopped up and headed up the stairs. "Thank you!" Patton called after him.

"Welcome, dad." Logan replied quickly, before he was completely up the stairs and heading toward the door of Virgil's room.

--

"Hi, Logan. Is it breakfast already?" Virgil swung the door open. The makeup under his eyes was smeared a bit, and he was still wearing black ripped jeans and a band t-shirt. He had fallen asleep in his clothes, and his hair was a bit messy.

"Yeah, Dad made toast for everyone. And he sent me to get you guys." Logan replied. Virgil went to open his mouth, probably to question if he was regressed due to his sue of the word 'dad', but Logan replied to his unasked question just like his did with Patton. "I'm fourteen again, before you ask about it."

Virgil gave an understanding nod. He walked back into his room, leaving the door open so that Logan could come in if he wanted to. "Okay dork, I was given the job of grocery shopping. If you want, and your caregiver doesn't care, you can come with me." Virgil offered as he picked up his hoodie that was balled up on a dark purple bean bag chair.

"Maybe if you didn't call me a dork, I'd consider it." Logan hesitantly entered the dark-styled room, his arms crossed.

"Oh come on, you're wearing a spiderman t-shirt and a beanie. You're either a nerd or a dork, take your pick." Virgil teased. Logan now wanted to cover up his shirt, and he pulled the black beanie off of his head. "Hey, wait. I didn't mean it like that," Virgil quickly finished pulling the hoodie on, and he came over to where Logan stood, taking the hat softly from his hands. "I was only teasing, dorky isn't bad, and the hat and shirt look good on you."

He pulled the hat back over Logan's head, patting his head. "I'm sorry I teased you," Virgil apologized.

"It's okay..." he looked up, so that he wasn't staring at the floor anymore, giving him a weak smile. His eyes wandered over Virgil's hoodie, but he didn't say anything.

"Do...do you want my jacket, buddy?" Virgil hesitated, but Logan nodded a little.

"I-is that okay?" he stuttered a bit, he couldn't place why he wanted it, it just looked comfortable. Maybe the fact that it also belonged to someone he considered his brother while regressed factored into it.

"Yeah, of course it's okay. Just make sure to give it back to me when you're big again, okay?" he pulled it off, handing it to Logan, who smiled. Virgil didn't usually give his hoodie to anyone, but the middle seemed to want it fairly badly and he knew that Logan would take care of it. Plus, he had his old hoodie to wear if he really wanted too.

"Go get Roman and head downstairs, okay? I'm gonna be down in a sec," Virgil told him. Logan nodded, leaving the room and pausing in the hallway to pull the jacket on.

"Roman, Roman, Roman!" he knocked on the door loudly between each time he called his name, "Breakfast is downstairs..." he spoke sheepishly when the door flew open and Roman gave him a stern look. Roman knew for a fact that he was at least somewhat regressed because of how energetically he woke him up.

"Did you have coffee or something?" he asked jokingly, rubbing at his eyes. Logan nodded quickly, and Roman seemed shocked. "Is your caregiver aware of this?"

Logan nodded again, "He doesn't like it, but he knows."

"Hmm, well please tone is down a bit while I'm still half asleep, okay? I need beauty sleep."

"Beauty sleep whatever, Dad sent me to wake you up." He stuck his tongue out at the end of his statement

"I'm assuming we're stuck with teen Logan again?" Roman questioned, running his fingers through his hair.

"Fourteen." Logan confirmed. Constantly confirming with others that he was in fact, in teenspace, reminded him that he was a teenager at the moment and that was okay.

"The sassiness and dorky beanie gave it away." he teased. Logan pouted, this was the second time his hat had been called dorky within the span of ten minutes. "Dorky isn't bad." Roman corrected quickly, just as Virgil had. Logan nodded, turning to walk away without another word.

"Logan, are you wearing Virgil's jacket?" Roman realized, looking at him.

Logan nodded shyly, turning back around to face him. "Hmm, that's cute. Just make sure not to stain it, or you'll never hear the end of it from Vee." he gave a reassuring smile, Logan nodding gratefully and walking off, for real this time. He had been worried that Roman was going to pick on him for taking Virgil's jacket.

Logan went downstairs, going into the living room to get his phone off of the coffee table. Once he had acquired this, he went into the kitchen and greeted Patton. "They should be heading down soon. Look! Virgil let me steal his jacket," he laughed a bit, doing a twirl for his caregiver.

"That was very nice of him. Did you say thank you?"  Patton asked, and Logan looked down.

"No, I didn't..." he sighed guiltily.  

"Well, make sure you do at some point, okay?" Patton told him, coming closer to him and giving him a forehead kiss. Or at least, he tried to. Logan ducked away before he could, stepping to the side. Patton audibly gasped, looking at him. Logan giggled, sticking his tongue out like he did earlier to Roman.

"You're silly, kiddo." Patton shook his head, patting Logan's head softly before moving on to do something else. Logan pouted, because he expected Patton to go in for another forehead kiss after missing the first one, but he just kept going. Logan told himself that he was being a dork anyways, and that being playful was something for littler him, and that his caregiver didn't need to play along.

He didn't need to play, he was a teenager. He didn't need affection either, no hugs or cuddles or kisses.

But even as a teenager, Logan craved exactly that.

He watched Patton as he plated breakfast for himself, buttering the bread. Logan took action before he could stop himself, side hugging Patton by ducking under his arm. He wrapped his arms around his carer and laid his head on his chest. Patton chuckled, "Hello there, baby."

He dropped the butter knife back on his plate, and set the piece of bread down in favor of hugging Logan back. He hugged him tightly, Logan melting into the touch. "You know, you could just ask for a hug instead of attacking me."

"What hug? I don't need a hug," Logan replied, pulling away from him and grabbing a plate off of the stack on the table.

"The hug you just pulled away from..." Patton seemed confused.

"I never hugged you, dad. You're crazy," Logan kept going, making himself breakfast and acting as if he never hugged him. Patton brushed it off for now and didn't worry about it, because Virgil and Roman entered the kitchen.

Patton greeted them, and as they all sat down to eat, Virgil mentioned taking Logan to the store with him. "Um..well, I'm not sure if that's a good idea..." Patton admitted, setting his piece of toast down on his plate. Virgil seemed confused, as did Logan.

"Why not?" Logan questioned, looking at his caregiver with a confused glance.

"Well, I've never taken you outside of the house while regressed, I'm just worried that someone might see you acting younger and be mean." Patton explained, and Logan frowned.

"Logan's a teenager though, and I'll be there to help if anything like that happens. It's not like he'll throw a fit or anything, he's fourteen." Virgil argued.

"Last time he regressed to teenspace, he was so anxious that he practically threw a fit!" Patton snapped, not exactly shouting. He looked at Virgil with somewhat angry eyes. Patton never gave that look, unless someone he was protecting someone he cared about. Logan sunk down in his seat, zipping up Virgil's hoodie and hiding away from the world for the time being. Virgil raised his hands up in mock surrender before speaking.

"Patton, I'm sorry that I upset you, but please be mindful of Logan. You're probably scaring him by snapping." Virgil reminded. Patton's expression faded from anger to an apologetic look, and he looked toward Logan,who nodded a bit.

"Oh..I'm sorry sweetheart. And you too, Virgil...Just let me think about this and we'll talk after breakfast, okay?"

Virgil gave a nod of agreement, and Logan muttered a weak 'okay'.

--

Patton eventually agreed to let Logan go with Virgil, but not without a lot of convincing and second guessing his decision.

"Promise that you'll be nice to Virgil, and if you get to anxious-"

"Let Virgil know and step away to text you." Logan interrupted, pocketing his phone and looking at his dad. "I'm not a baby, and I'll be fine."

"Yeah, he's safe with me." Virgil assured, coming down the stairs, clad in his old hoodie and a pair of black ripped skinny jeans. "We're good, right?" he looked at Logan, double checking just to be sure.

Logan laughed, "We're good." he confirmed.

"Oh, okay. I love you both, be good," he looked at Logan, as if he needed the reminder, "And please be home before dinner."

Both boys nodded, taking their final hugs from Roman and Patton before heading out. Virgil let Logan sit in the passenger seat

The mindscape was set up to be a small, little town. It wasn't one that existed in the real world, but it was heavily based off of the real world and would change according to real world events. If they really wanted to, the mindscape extended past their imaginary town, it was a whole little world just inside Thomas's head.

"Okay, so I have a shopping list on my phone, and the grocery money we all pitch in for. Though I found that there's always a little extra money, so if you want an extra snack or whatever, go for it." Virgil spoke, stopping as they approached a red light. He looked around, his eye catching on a street sign as he assured himself that he was going the right way.

Logan nodded. He was usually the one to go on the grocery runs, so he already knew about how he slightly over estimated how much money they needed. He'd usually either buy something extra, a treat or dessert, or save it for the next shopping trip. They all got their limited allowance (for the whole 'realistic human life' thing), and they'd pitch in a certain amount of it to pay for food for their home.

"Is there anything you want for the store? That isn't already on the usual list, I mean?" Virgil asked. He was trying to start a conversation, but Logan was being quiet. That was the main reason he offered to take him with him for errands. Virgil wanted to spend more time with his newfound brother, though he'd never admit that out loud. Virgil and Logan regress together all the time, and there's been plenty of time where Logan is bigger than Virgil, but it's rarely the other way around.

Virgil wanted to know Logan more, and also earn his trust. Because it seemed that currently, the only person Teenage Logan really trusted, was Patton.

"I don't know, maybe one of those starbucks bottled frappe things?" Logan said hopefully, giving his, currently older, brother a look in the hopes that he didn't shoot it down immediately.

"Hmm, Patton wouldn't be to happy about that one...and if he found out, he'd be pretty mad at me." Virgil thought out loud, anxiously biting at his lip while he focused on the road. Logan sunk down in his seat in disappointment, immediately taking his hesitancy as a 'no' and looking out the window.

Virgil sighed, glancing at him for a split second before turning his head to examine the road in front of him. "I suppose...if you promise not to tell your caregiver, and you also don't get like, super hyper on me..." he pauses, taking a turn before continuing his conditional agreement, "You can get the coffee. But this is a one time thing, I don't condone littles-" Logan gave him a look.

"Middles?" he hesitantly corrected himself, glancing at Logan again.

"Or regressors." Logan nodded. Virgil hummed before continuing.

"I don't condone teenagers drinking a bunch of caffeinated drinks in one day. I know you had coffee this morning. But today's the exception, alright?"

Virgil was only agreeing to this because he wanted to make Logan happy. And he didn't quite mind stretching the rules just a bit to get there.

"Okay." Logan agreed, looking back out the window.

Virgil had a feeling that this would end up being a good day.

Or at least, he hoped it would.

--

"Virgil, I know I said I'd be okay..but I'm scared."

Virgil stopped in the middle of the cereal aisle, pulling the cart to the side so that people could walk through if they needed. Logan seemed ashamed to admit that, looking up at his, currently older, brother for support. Logan fiddled with the zippers on the cuffs of Virgil's jacket.

"What are you scared of, Logan?" Virgil spoke softly to him, in a voice that seemed to assure that he'd be ready to comfort him no matter what his answer.

"Dad was right, it's my first time going out while regressed and I feel..." he trailed off, his eyes following a cart as a family walked by the aisle. "I feel stupid. Like people are staring a me or something." He looked back at Virgil, who nodded.

"That's okay. I've never been out while regressed, but I'm sure it is a bit scary. I'm sorry that you aren't feeling the best, though." Virgil sighed, not quite knowing what to do. He thought for a moment before offering the best solution he could come up with. "How about you call Patton and talk to him while we shop? I think he'd be the best at comforting you right now."

Logan nodded lightly, pulling his phone out of his pocket. Virgil gave him a reassuring smile before pulling a few boxes of cereal from the shelf. As Virgil motioned for them to keep walking, Logan listened to his phone ring.

"Logan! Are you okay?" Logan winced at how loud Patton's voice seemed through the phone.

"Mhm, I'm okay. Just a bit anxious though...can you talk to me? I-i think it'd help." his voice was filled with hesitancy, but Virgil gave him a comforting look that silently told him 'good job'.

"Oh, yeah. I can talk to you. Do you wanna tell me why you're feeling anxious, baby?"

"I um...you were right," Logan fiddled with the zippers on Virgil's hoodie again, taking a turn into a aisle with bread and snacks. "I kinda started panicking the moment I got into the store. There's so many people, and so much noise. I'm just worried that I'm being judged, I guess." he hummed, glad that there was no one else in their aisle.

"I'm sure that everything is okay, sweetheart. Listen to me, not all the noise, okay?"

Logan nodded, then realizing that Patton couldn't see him through the phone. "Okay."

"Can you tell me what you guys have gotten so far?" Logan was confused by his caregivers request, but he looked in the cart as Virgil set something in it.

"We got Crofters! And butter, and bread." he identified a few items, looking at a few others.

"We can make more toast!" Patton cheered. Logan laughed at that.

"Uh, we have like three boxes of cereal in the cart. And coffee cakes! There's also macaroni..." Logan kept going, not realizing that Patton had successfully distracted him from his anxiety for the time being. Patton spoke in a calm, caring voice all the way through their shopping trip.

"We're heading up to checkout now. I'll text you when we're on our way home," Logan spoke into the phone, following Virgil's guide through the front part of the store.

"Alright. You feel better now, right?" Patton assured.

"Yeah, thanks dad. I'll see you later." Logan hung up the phone, pocketing it and taking a deep breath.

"Feeling better?" Virgil questioned softly. Logan hummed.

He felt almost pathetic for having to call his dad to coach him through a simple shopping trip, but he also felt a lot more at ease. He couldn't quite place why he didn't just pull himself out of middlespace if it really bothered him that much, it almost felt like it'd be to tiring to do. He was getting used to being able to regress whenever and not have to repress it, so when the time came that he might of had to, it felt to hard.

"Yeah, I'm okay. Are we heading home after this?" Logan asked, redirecting the conversation swiftly.

"No, actually. If you're okay with stopping somewhere else first, I mean." Virgil didn't elaborate on where they could possibly be going, which confused Logan.

As they checked out and scanned their items, Logan kept bugging Virgil about where they were headed. "It's a surprise. I'm sure you'll like it, though."

"But Virge! I wanna know!" he whined, handing Virgil his iced coffee to scan.

"Hmm, well that's to bad." he teased. "You'll see when we get there."

Virgil has had this idea since he realized that Logan regressed to teen ages. He was only able to convince Patton to let him take Logan because he revealed his little plan, the second stop that Logan would definitely be excited about. Of course, Logan couldn't know what it was quite yet.

"Virgilll!" he pouted, giving him pleading eyes.

"The pouty face only works when you're a toddler, Lo. Just be patient," he told him, pulling his wallet out of his pocket and looking at the total on the self checkout screen. He counted the money quickly.

"Will a candy bar shut you up?" he asked, pulling a few dollars from the stack.

"That only works when I'm a toddler," Logan mimicked him. It was true, if any of the sides needed to distract Logan while he was little, a piece of candy would do the trick. Of course, it would backfire in half an hour when he got hyper and bouncy, but it works in the moment.

Virgil raised his eyebrows, waving the three one dollar bills in his hand. Logan rolled his eyes, snatching them away. "Fine, I'll be back in a sec."

He disappeared to go pick out some candy, leaving Virgil to chuckle.

Virgil was glad he did this. He felt bad for putting Logan in a situation where he was anxious, but he could still say that they were having a decent time so far. And he was sure Logan would love the next place they were headed to.

There was just one question Logan had.

Where were they going?

--

A/N: Okay so this chapter is jam-packed! I finally hinted towards the romance part of this story, which won't really be a main focus, like at all. It focuses on the agere, and here and there there will be some cute fluffy shippy things. Lmk what you think of this chapter by commenting, reblogging, or sending me asks! (Depends on if you're reading through Tumblr or Wattpad!)

[mexicancat-girl]

Inspiration

A MarcNath fic written in part for #MLPrideFest2020 and Pride month in general

AO3: Link, 5700+ words

.

...

It’s been a long day. But instead of feeling tired, Marc feels restless, and strangely energized.

After all, the absolute favorite part of his day happens after school.

Once the final bell chimes, Marc instantly stuffs his notebook in his bag with lightning speed. He gives a little wave to some of his friends in class, before he quickly makes his way out of Ms. Mendeleiev’s class and down the hall.

He and Nathaniel were going to meet up to work on their comic. They always met up Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays, and today was Friday.

Though, as of late, they were spending nearly every day of the school week together. To work on their comic, of course. But more and more often, they just…hung out. And talked.

A solid half the time, they went wildly off-topic and didn’t even touch their comic. And while normally the two of them weren’t much for talking, when together, they could chatter up a storm.

Marc’s pretty sure they’ve re-treaded The Great Sailor Moon Debate at least a dozen times already—in which Nathaniel firmly believed the 90’s anime was the greatest version of the source material, while Marc defended the Crystal reboot for it’s better writing. Nathaniel would playfully call Marc a heathen, while Marc would retort with Nath being nostalgia blind. Then the two would get locked in a stalemate, and finally admit that Madoka Magica was better anyways. Rinse and repeat.

It was just…so easy to talk to Nathaniel. Even when Marc would get flustered and stutter out a mess, because of his stupid crush flaring up, Nathaniel wouldn’t judge him. He’d wait patiently for Marc to finally get a halfway cohesive sentence out, absorb it, give it his full consideration, and then take the conversation from there.

It helped that the two of them were on the introverted and shy side, knowing when to talk and when it was just enough to sit quietly side-by-side. They both had similar interests and passion driving them. They sort of…clicked. Understood each other in a way they didn’t with others. They got each other.

It’s the biggest reason why Marc enjoyed spending time with Nathaniel. Though his crush undeniably played a part in it…

Marc startled, running into the doorway of the art class slightly. He didn’t do it very hard—just barely clipped his shoulder against the arch—but he still jumped a foot in the air and yelped.

“You okay…?” a voice asks, warm and familiar.

Marc feels himself flush. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine,” he gets out, with a bashful laugh, rubbing slightly at his shoulder. He looks down at an amused Nathaniel, who’s half-hanging out of the doorway, having managed to get to the room before Marc.

“Lost in thought?” the redhead asks, jerking his head to move his bangs out of face.

“Sort of?” Marc offers, hitching his bag further up his shoulder and following in-step with Nathaniel over to their usual table in the Art Club.

The place was empty, which was a surprise. They had Art Club on Wednesdays, sure, which was when the art room was the busiest. But their teacher always encouraged students to work on projects in the room if they wanted, so usually there would always be at least one person in here.

It was nice, though, having the room all to themselves. Marc certainly wasn’t complaining.

“Thinking up new ideas for the comic?” Nathaniel asks, sitting in his normal spot, Marc sliding in next to him on the left, as was per usual.

Marc lets out a long groan. “Not really…I’ve sort of reached a…a writing block, actually,” he admits while threading a hand through his hair, feeling just a bit ashamed.

“That’s rough, buddy,” Nathaniel says sympathetically, but there’s a playful lilt to his smile that catches Marc’s attention.

Marc pauses, and considers, his eyes narrowing as he looks over at the other boy. “…Was that a reference?”

“Dunno. Is it?” Nathaniel asks, much too innocently.

“It is, isn’t it,” Marc says, more statement than question, levelling a finger at Nathaniel. Who is looking all the more amused with the way Marc’s challenging him. “Which anime?”

“I can’t believe you instantly jump to anime. I don’t always make anime references,” the redhead huffs, voice just shy of a whine.

“Cartoon then,” Marc decides. “It doesn’t sound like something from comics, or comic-related.”

“I mean. You’re not wrong, exactly…”

He tilts his head, taps his fingers against the table. “Is it something I’ve watched…?”

“Well, I mean, I’d hope you’ve watched it,” Nathaniel starts, voice turning teasing. “Or else I might just revoke our friendship.”

“Don’t be so dramatic,” he chides, but not seriously at all, bumping their shoulders together with a roll of his eyes. “Just say it’s Avatar and go, you drama queen.”

“Ding ding ding, we have a winner,” Nathaniel mimes speaking into a microphone, holding his pencil up to his mouth like a complete dork. “Local writer gets cartoon reference, more at nine.”

“Dork,” Marc snorts, giggling.

“I’m not a dork,” Nathaniel states, shoving Marc playfully. “You’re the dork.”

Marc feels his grin widen. “Yes, because I’m the one that quotes things like a total dork on the reg…”

Nathaniel gasps, shoving at Marc’s shoulder again. “Shut up! You do that all the time!” he sputters, indignant.

“I really don’t.”

“You quote Shakespeare!”

“Nath,” Marc starts, putting a hand on his shoulder, giving him the snootiest look possible. “All writers quote Shakespeare. Keep up.”

“Go and quote your Shakespeare, then,” Nathaniel says, dramatically rolling his eyes and shrugging Marc’s hand off his shoulder. “Maybe writing a soliloquy will help with your writer’s block, or something.”

“You know, that might not be a bad idea…” he admits, before scratching at his temple and smiling sheepishly. “But I don’t think I’ve ever actually learned how to write one.”

“I mean, that’s fair,” Nathaniel laughs, nudging him playfully with the eraser of his pencil. “Writing like Shakespeare is bonkers. Poetry’s already complicated as it is.”

“How is poetry complicated? You can literally write anything as a poem.”

“Exactly,” the redhead nods sagely. “You can write anything. That’s way too many possibilities.”

“You know what? Fair.”

The two grinned at each other for a few long seconds, only broken by the door opening. Marc jolts in his seat, whipping his gaze away guiltily from staring into Nathaniel’s pretty blue eyes. He’d always had a habit of getting lost in them, if he wasn’t careful.

Mr. Carracci blinks back at them for a few seconds, before smiling softly. “Oh! Hello there, boys. Just about to head out, so I came to grab my things.”

“Do you need any help, sir?” Nathaniel offers, already half-out of his seat, the art teacher waving him away.

“No, no, I’m quite alright. You boys just sit and keep doing whatever you were doing before. Don’t mind me,” the older gentleman tells them warmly, already crossing the room to his desk at the very back. “Just remember to close the door on your way out when you’re done, alright?”

“Yes, sir,” Marc and Nathaniel chime together, relaxing in their seats once more.

The two share a look, grinning slightly, before they open their bags and start to riffle through for their materials.

Marc cracks open his notebook, staring down at the page full of scribbles. He huffs, cracks his knuckles, and picks up his pen.

------

  A solid ten minutes pass, and nothing new is on the page. At least, nothing that hasn’t been instantly scribbled out in a fit of frustration.

Marc tries to sigh quietly so he doesn’t disturb his partner. Tapping his pen against his lips restlessly, he glares down at his notebook like it’s done him a personal offense.

Nothing comes out right. It all sounds…dumb. And clunky. And unrealistic. His prose is all out of sorts, too.

Nothing is up to snuff. It’s frustrating.

By the time Mr. Carracci is telling them goodbye, Nathaniel is already drawing furiously in his sketchbook. He’s so laser-focused, he only pauses to wave slightly at the teacher because Marc poked him in the shoulder and hissed at him to be polite.

Marc is the one that wishes the man goodbye properly, actually speaking and acknowledging him. “Goodnight, Mr. Carracci! I hope you get home safely.”

“You boys as well.” The art teacher smiles at them, warmly amused, and a bit…knowing, almost.

What he knows, Marc isn’t sure. But the sheer paternal energy from the man is almost comforting, when Marc gestures at Nathaniel with an apologetic smile, and Mr. Carracci nods back, eyes glittering in understanding.

The man leaves like he’d arrived: quiet and gentle, like a sweet Spring breeze.

Deciding he’s probably had enough of a break, Marc turns back to the daunting pages of his notebook.

  ------

 He can’t do it.

Marc feels the distinct need to slam his head against the desk, but just manages to keep himself from doing it.

He doesn’t want to startle Nathaniel out of his muse. If he makes a ruckus, it might ruin his drawing.

Speaking of drawing…

Marc can’t help but be curious, leaning slightly over to look at what the redhead has been so perfectly enraptured with the past few minutes.

He blinks. And then rubs at one of his eyes, thinking maybe he wasn’t seeing things correctly.

He’s not, though. Seeing things.

Because what Nathaniel is drawing is… him?

It’s of Marc hunching over his notebook, pen against his lips, looking frustrated.

It’s a nice drawing. The proportions are all there, the expression is spot-on, and Nathaniel’s even in the process of shading it.

The only things that seem slightly off are Marc’s eyes and lips. His eyes look like they have more lashes than an old-school shoujo manga character, and his lips look way plumper than they are.

And—is that a little heart next to the pen pressed against his lips…? Or is that just some sort of accidental stray mark?

As Marc tries to puzzle that out, his heart thrumming in his chest quite suddenly, Nathaniel’s pencil stops moving. The lack of familiar scratching against the page throws the room into an eerie silence, for all of three seconds, before the sound of Nathaniel nearly choking on his spit replaces it.

The redhead all but lunges forwards, bodily covering his sketchbook, looking back at him with the exact same look of a deer caught in headlights.

Marc leans back and shuffles into his spot, face warming as he realizes he’d all but draped himself over Nathaniel to watch him draw.

Not just draw anything, either. Draw him.

“S-Sorry,” he stutters out, tripping over his own tongue. “I-I didn’t mean. I just. Um?”

He clicks his mouth shut, finding that words weren’t doing him any good. Nathaniel is staring at him with an expression of pure mortification, face steadily turning as red as his hair.

And then the other boy laughs, strangled and high-strung, and just this side of hysterical.

“I-I-It’s fine!” Nathaniel squeaks out, voice jumping an octave.

The two stare at each other for a painfully drawn-out moment.

“I, uh…P-Probably should’ve asked to watch you,” Marc admits, tugging self-consciously at a section of his messy hair. “Sorry.”

“N-no, no, it’s…Fine,” Nathaniel says with an awkward laugh, still hunched protectively over his sketchbook, eyes darting about the room instead of looking at Marc. Like a cornered animal.

Another pause.

“I-I, ah. Should’ve asked. T-To draw you,” the redhead says, slowly and haltingly, gaze now firmly on the wood-grain of the table, like it’s the most riveting thing in the world. He taps his pencil restlessly on the tabletop. “Sorry. S’probably creepy…”

“No, no, not at all!” Marc yelps, quickly waving his hands in front of himself. “It’s great! I-I mean. I’ve…never had anyone draw me, b-before, and…And you did an amazing job, so…”

Nathaniel takes a deep breath, seemingly steeling himself, before he peers up at Marc cautiously. He’s hiding behind his hair, in that way he does when he’s embarrassed or shy, but his uncovered eye gleams bright under the florescent lights.

“Y-you, um. You really think so…?” the redhead asks softly, almost disbelieving, and Marc nods his head so fast he feels like an enthusiastic bobblehead.

“Mhm! It’s amazing,” he says emphatically, with a bit too much feeling. Instead of looking weirded out, though, the other boy’s lips upturn into a lopsided smile. “I mean, I’ve always known you can draw people really well, considering our comic being based on actual real-life people? But, I guess it’s sort of…different? Seeing myself being drawn. It’s like seeing myself from your eyes, you know? It’s something wholly unique.”

He knows he’s gushing and rambling, but he can’t help it. Nathaniel’s art… It’s always been amazing, and it always manages to get Marc to wax poetic over it.

It’s just even more amazing to see himself in Nathaniel’s sketchbook, as a realized drawing, something so obviously bursting with energy and care. With both enthusiasm and careful consideration, somehow perfectly harmonious.

“Are you sure you’re not just saying all that to butter me up…?” Nathaniel finally says, smile widening, stretching out his pink cheeks.

Marc blinks back at him, taken aback and confused. “But…I always compliment your art?”

“Yeah. I know,” Nathaniel starts, chuckling breathlessly. “But, I mean…Most people compliment my art to get me to draw them, y’know.”

“I wouldn’t do that!” Marc retorts instantly, scandalized. “All artists deserve compensation for their work! I’d never do that to you, Nath. D-do you think I’d do that? Because I wouldn’t.” The redhead raises an incredulous brow at him, and Marc presses, firm. “I wouldn’t.”

Nathaniel stares at him for three seconds, brow still raised, before he bursts into laughter.

“S-sorry! Sorry! I’m not,” he wheezes through his giggles. “I’m not laughing at you, I s-swear. Okay?”

Marc feels…just a bit lost.

“O…kay?

“Look, I know. I know you wouldn’t do that. It’s just,” Nathaniel sighs, shaking his head, the movement causing his long bangs to swish in front of his face. He takes a second to tug them behind his ear, smiling that crooked smile of his, making Marc’s heart skip a beat. “I wanted to tease you a little. I know you’d never use me like that, Marc.”

The earnestness in his voice, the openness of his expressions, they’re as easy to read as a book. The catalogue of Nathaniel’s expressions is Marc’s favorite book, actually, no matter how weird and cheesy that sounds.

“I just…I guess I didn’t want you to get your hopes up or anything, of me drawing you,” Nathaniel says slowly, seemingly picking his words carefully. He taps his pencil against the table rapidly, a nervous tap-tap-tap. “I only really draw what catches my attention or inspires me. It’s a bit harder to draw on-command…”

“Right. That makes sense,” Marc notes aloud, fiddling with his choker as he realizes just how similar both their creative processes actually are. It’s no wonder they worked well together. “It’s…actually sort of the same with me and my writing.”

“Yeah?” the other asks, pencil stalling.

“Yeah,” Marc nods. He pauses, bites his lip. “I mean, when I don’t have writer’s block, of course.”

It’s a lame thing to say, a total cop-out. But it’s not like Marc can just tell him. Tell Nathaniel point-blank that he’s what inspires Marc to write, the most out of any possible subject in the world. Including Ladybug and Chat Noir, the literal subjects of their comics.

Because Marc means it in a totally non-platonic sense; that Nathaniel inspires Marc to write with all of his heart. And it would be hard to explain away as it being in a ‘friend way’.

So, he’d rather not explain it at all. Like a coward.

In spite of his total lameness, though, Nathaniel grins back at him. “Is that why you’ve been just sitting there this whole time…?”

Marc sighs, long and loud, and gently thunks his head on the table. “Yes,” he says shamefully, voice muffled slightly against the wooden surface.

Nathaniel laughs, a bright and loud sound that makes Marc’s heart squeeze in his chest.

“Ah, alright then. That makes sense,” he snickers, voice warm and teasing. “Guess I have your writer’s block to thank, then, for helping me with my own art block.”

Marc’s heart takes the time to do a bout of gymnastics, and he turns his head to the side to peer over at the other boy. “Wait. What? How?”

Nathaniel smiles back at him crookedly, tapping his pencil in a jaunty rhythm that sounds vaguely familiar. Maybe a video game song. “I couldn’t figure out what to draw, but I looked over and saw you looking so pent-up and frustrated, it sort of made for a good drawing.”

Marc stares at him, taken aback. The other rubs the back of his neck, sheepish. “And I mean, you were sitting there so still…You made the perfect model, actually.”

Marc snorts, completely disbelieving. “You mean to tell me that me being stuck in a writer’s block actually solved your art block?” he demands, sitting up and turning his body towards his friend, who simply looks bemused. “How’s that even fair?!”

“Dunno,” the redhead says with a chirp and a shrug, a shit-eating grin unfurling on his face. “But I’m not complaining.”

“Well—Well I am!” Marc sputters out, levelling a finger at Nathaniel’s face. The other boy goes cross-eyed to look at his judgmental digit. Marc lets out a disbelieving laugh, “I ended up being your inspiration, and I’m still suffering over here…!”

“Alright, alright,” Nathaniel says, gently batting Marc’s finger away. His voice is placating, but his smile was still a bit too wide in his mouth for Marc to believe. “I mean, you were a big help, being my model and all. So, use me as your inspiration, if you want.”

  ------

 Marc’s mind stalls, “So, use me as your inspiration, if you want” echoing on repeat.

It’s a flippant statement, but it still makes Marc’s face burn. He sputters, stuttering.

“Th-th-that’s not h-how it works!” he manages to choke out after a longer-than-necessary pause, turning and snatching up his notebook, hugging it against his chest and curling himself around it.

A sudden sense of deja vu hits him like a bullet.

It’s almost like when he first met Nathaniel, hopelessly crushing and too much of a shy mess to show him his writing.

He’s still hopelessly crushing now, but he’s also loosened enough and gotten enough confidence that he can show the other boy his writing, his passion.

But as he uncurls himself from shielding his notebook, it’s already too late.

The smile on Nathaniel’s face has dropped, the playfulness gone. Instead, his face shutters, replaced with an awkward grimace.

“Right. You’re right,” Nathaniel says stiffly, voice incredibly hard to read, but there’s unmistakable hurt in his eyes. He ducks his head, his bangs jostled from behind his ear, falling in front of his face in a fiery curtain to shield it once more. “I mean, you can’t write if someone’s forcing you… And it’s not like I’m an interesting subject, anyways. I wouldn’t make for good inspiration at all.”

“Th-that’s not true!” Marc snaps, without thought. The other boy jerks his head up, staring at him in shock. “You’re plenty interesting, Nathaniel! I’ve written about you before!”

Oh.

Oh no.

He did not mean to say that last part.

Nathaniel’s blue eyes are wide and gleaming like the sun glinting off the sea’s waves, staring soulfully at him, blue locking with green.

The moment stretches between them. Marc holds his breath. Or, more accurately, the breath feels like it’s been sucked straight from his lungs.

“You have…?” Nathaniel asks, voice soft. Awed, almost. He leans forwards, and Marc barely keeps himself from flinching backwards, stiffening in his seat. The other boy carefully places his fingers against the cover of the notebook still clutched to his chest, fingers splaying out to press his palm against the cover.

A siren blares in Marc’s scrambled and panicked mind, sounding suspiciously like the Kill Bill siren.

Nathaniel is touching his chest. There’s his notebook in the way, of course, but. Nathaniel is touching his chest.

Marc feels like he’s going to pass out. Whether from shock, blushing too hard, or not being able to breathe, he’s not sure. Maybe all three at once.

“Have you written about me in your notebook…?” Nathaniel asks wonderingly, dropping his gaze at the notebook in question, tapping a rhythm against the cover. Marc gulps thickly when the redhead looks back up at him, blue eye searching, lips slightly parted and looking very kissable right now.

“Pull yourself together, Marc,” he hisses to himself in his mind. “Do not kiss the boy.”

“S-s-sometimes,” he manages to choke out, voice squeaky, watching as Nathaniel’s eye widens and gleams. He averts his gaze, nervous and overwhelmed, clearing his throat. It doesn’t help his stutter. “W-when I c-c-can’t think of c-comic stuff.”

It’s a half-truth at best—barely truthful at all—because Marc pretty much exclusively writes about Nathaniel when he’s not working on their comic. Hell, he writes about Nathaniel even when he’s technically not writing about Nathaniel. Every romantic bone in his body, every scrap of adoration, is fueled through the dialogue he writes between Ladybug and Chat Noir.

Everyone’s praised their comics for having such realistic dialogue and fantastic chemistry between the main characters. What no one else realizes is that Marc pretty much writes everything ripped straight from talking to Nathaniel in real life, or from his own lovesick fantasies of what he wishes Nathaniel would say to him.

His sorry excuse for a half-baked half-truth is all Marc can come up with to not blurt out a full confession then and there and ruin everything.

“Can I read some of it…?” Nathaniel asks, voice thick with excitement and something else Marc can’t exactly name.

“Fuck no,” he thinks frantically and emphatically. “That’s embarrassing!”

The other boy bursts into raucous laughter, finally leaning out of Marc’s space, and the realization dawns that he just said that out loud.

God damn it.

Nathaniel’s head is thrown back as he laughs, the pale column of his neck on display and definitely the next thing about Nathaniel that will star in Marc’s future daydreams. Good Lord. He’s such a disaster, and Nathaniel has an unfairly nice neck.

Wait. That’s weird to think, right…? What is he, a vampire?!

Marc groans loudly and buries his burning face in his hands, no doubt red up to his ears.

“Kill me now,” he whines, while Nathaniel seems to laugh even louder. “Please.”

It takes Nathaniel a full twenty seconds before he manages to get himself somewhat under control. “B-But if you do, who’ll w-w-write about me?” he snorts, falling back into his laughing fit.

“Oh, I’ll write about you alright,” Marc says darkly, feeling mortified beyond belief, peeking between his gloved fingers to glare at his partner. “I’ll write your eulogy.”

“I-I’d be down,” the redhead wheezes out, clapping a hand on Marc’s shoulder. He wipes the tears of mirth from his eyes with the other hand, smiling wide. “I’m s-sure you’d write a bitchin’ eulogy.” He perks up. “Actually, maybe we could have that in our comic at some point! One of the heroes could fake their own death or something.”

“Sure, w-we can pull a Sherlock later,” Marc sighs, rubbing his face, the embarrassment barely receding. His cheeks still burn like a furnace beneath his fingertips; the pros of wearing fingerless gloves, he supposes.

Nathaniel squeezes his shoulder and jostles it playfully. “Hey, maybe you can write that scenario up for a future issue? It might be fun to see if we can fit it in later, and it’ll get you writing again!”

“Alright, alright, I’ll try it,” he groans, passing an irate hand through his hair, tugging at the dark strands. “Please stop man-handling me…”

“Sorry, sorry, it was for motivation’s sake,” Nathaniel jokes, but quickly lets his hand drop from Marc’s shoulder, respectful to a fault.

“It was hardly motivational…”

“No, I’m pretty sure it was.”

Marc levels him a flat look. Probably not as effective with a pink face, but. An attempt was made.

Nathaniel raises his hands in a placating motion, the motion decidedly cheeky when paired with the mischievous curl of his lips. “Alright, how about this? I try and tell you one last thing to inspire you to write. After that, I’ll leave you to it, ‘kay?”

Marc can’t help but feel a bit suspicious, raising a pointed brow at the other’s suggestion. “Really…?”

“Really,” the redhead nods.

“And this’ll be an actual inspirational statement…?”

“Hm. Well.” A pause. “I’d hope so?”

“Hmmmmm,” Marc hums, tapping at his chin. “I guess that’d be fine?”

So long as it was something to help distract Nathaniel from his huge slip-up, he was down for it.

“If you’re going to quote an anime theme song at me, I might reconsider, though,” Marc says in teasing warning, lips twitching into a grin.

The other pouts spectacularly at him, and Marc fights down a giggle at how ridiculously adorable he looks. “Ye of so little faith, Marc. Maybe I won’t say it after all—”

“No, no, please! Don’t stop because of me,” he says, giggling a bit and setting his notebook aside, carefully closed. “I’m all ears. Really.”

“Alright,” Nathaniel drawls out, blue eyes glittering.

And then he’s leaning in again, one arm propped on the table for balance, before Marc can say another word.

Nathaniel has a boyish grin on his face, lopsided and toothy, eyes half-lidded and piercing. It’s confident—bordering on flirtatious—an expression that seems nearly uncharacteristic for someone like Nathaniel.

But he makes it work.

Oh, does he make it work.

Marc’s face feels like it’s on fire, and his heart is back doing some complicated gymnastics routine. There’s about a foot of space between them, and the distance is steadily diminishing as Nathaniel leans in, closer and closer.

Marc’s breath stutters out, sounding shallow to his own ears, while his pulse skyrockets.

They’re nearly nose-to-nose by the time Marc wonders if he should be closing his eyes or not—because this is a kiss, right? How can it be anything else?—and then Nathaniel completely diverts his course.

Nathaniel’s silky hair flutters and brushes just slightly against the side of Marc’s cheek. He can feel the other’s breath puffing against his ear, and fights down a full-body shiver, nerves alighting all at once.

The redhead whispers right in Marc’s ear, “Start writing, or you’re straight.”

Marc sputters and wheezes, rearing his head back, feeling like Nathaniel had decided to sock him in the stomach instead of whatever the hell that was.

He gapes, mouth working frantically and only spilling out stuttered gibberish.

Nathaniel waits him out for a full five seconds, eyes bright, before he starts to snicker.

“N-Nathaniel,” he ends up whisper-yelling through a wheeze, which only sets off the boy in question. He finally backs away from Marc, out of his personal space, and starts cackling.

“I—Why—I c-can’t believe you,” he hisses, swatting at Nathaniel, who seems to cackle even harder. The redhead only makes a minimal effort to shield himself, too caught up in his mirth.

“S-s-straight Marc,” wheezes the redhead through his laughter, tears streaming down his face, his voice no longer capable of forming words afterwards.

“H-How dare you. I’m a proud heterophobe—” Nathaniel doubles over, clutching at his stomach. “—a-and I will not stand for this forced straight narrative.”

The other boy nearly falls off the bench. Marc—because he is a good friend, who cares for his dumbass friend-slash-crush-slash-tester of his patience—reaches out and catches him before he faceplants on the Art Club’s dirty and paint-splattered floor.

Nathaniel clutches at Marc’s token red hoodie, still absolutely hysterical.

“P-p-proud heterophobe!” he parrots back, planting his face on Marc’s shoulder.

“I was born Assigned Heterophobe At Birth,” Marc says, quite seriously, only to get a loud laugh all but in his ear in answer, for his troubles.

  ------

 It ends up taking Nathaniel a good four minutes straight (hah) in order to calm down. Every time he seemed to calm down a bit, one look at Marc’s flat and judgmental look, and he’d rev up all over again.

He’s been laugh-crying so hard, even snot was leaking out his nose. Nathaniel fumblingly wipes at his eyes with the sleeve of his blazer, and with a grimace and a mutter, Marc hands him a tissue before he managed to smear snot all over his own arms.

And yet, Marc notes with a long-suffering sigh, he still thought Nathaniel looked cute— puffy eyes and snot and all. He had it bad.

He hadn’t even realized his crush had gotten to this point, but, well. It has.

He was fucked.

“I dedicate my life to the gay agenda, and this is the thanks I get?” Marc demands in the closest approximation of iconic offended resignation, only to trigger a peal of giggles from the redhead. “Listen, if you die because you laughed too hard at my stellar gay jokes, I will not be held accountable.”

“W-will you go t-to my funeral?” Nathaniel asks, much too brightly for a boy who’d nearly choked on his own spit from uncontrollable laughter.

“Didn’t we go over this earlier? I’d write your eulogy.”

“Ah, r-right,” the other snorts, grinning dumbly, all wide and toothy. It was a charming expression, Marc notes with fond exasperation. “Your bitchin’ eulogy skills.”

“Yes,” Marc sighs, smiling in spite of himself at his dumbass friend, smile no doubt grossly fond and gooey.

He couldn’t help it, either. He was useless against Nathaniel’s dorky charm.

“So…” Nathaniel starts, finally seemingly able to breath properly once more. “Did it work?”

He eyes the other warily. “Work…?”

“My inspirational statement,” Nathaniel states, quite seriously, smirking in a completely infuriating way.

“You call that an inspirational statement?!” he demands in a hiss, all the while Nathaniel snickers evilly. “I told you to tell me something to inspire me to write! Not—not whatever the hell that was.”

“I mean. I personally think it was pretty inspiring,” the redhead says innocently, blinking his big blue eyes. The overall effect was ruined by his sheer cheek.

“It might’ve been for you…!” Marc retorts. He plays up his offense by placing a hand on his chest like an aghast French noblewoman. “But I asked for inspiration, not a threat.”

“Hey, it’s still motivational, right?” Nathaniel snickers, propping his elbow on the table and leaning in close again. Marc feels his heart trip in his chest once more. If Nathaniel keeps this up, Marc might just need to go see a specialist or something; his heart doing non-stop frantic gymnastics probably wasn’t healthy. “And besides, if you just do what I said, you wouldn’t have to worry.”

“You’re the reason I’m a Professional Heterophobe,” Marc deadpans, which earns a bark of laughter from the other.

“Impossible. I’m bi,” Nathaniel says, so casually light and flippant, it felt impossibly fake. The slight tightening of his smile and the way he tapped his fingers restlessly on his arm only cemented this. “S-so. We’re actually gay solidarity.”

“Right,” Marc manages to say, mind whirring a mile a minute.

This didn’t mean anything. It didn’t. Just because Nathaniel is bi doesn’t mean he’ll like Marc back.

But.

It’s possible, however slight. And the chances are definitely higher than they were before, when Nathaniel had just been straight. Or not out of the closet yet.

The redhead’s entire posture has turned tense, fingers tapping quicker against his arm. He’s looking at Marc, cautious, gauging.

As if Nathaniel would ever have to be afraid of Marc, of all people. He was probably one of the most blatantly gay people at school, out and proud of it. He was also someone so ridiculously in love with Nathaniel Kurtzberg, he would never turn his back on him.

“Gay solidarity can only take you so far,” Marc starts, wagging a finger jokingly at Nathaniel. “You’re on thin ice for testing me, mister.”

Marc grins, trying for something casual and playful. The beaming smile he gets in return outstrips him a thousand times over.

“We’ll see,” Nathaniel replies, rather cryptically, but his smile isn’t dimmed at all by his vagueness. He shoves his bangs behind his ear, as he says, “Now, who’re we choosing to fake their death for later?”

“Mightillustrator, so Reverser can write his eulogy,” Marc suggests, half-joking, only to get a warm laugh and even warmer smile from the other boy.

“Can’t wait to draw it,” Nathaniel says softly, grabbing onto Marc’s right hand and squeezing it. Marc feels his breath catch, hand tingling from the points of contact. “And I can’t wait to read what you write about it.”

With the way Nathaniel’s looking at him—shy, blue eyes peering through his lashes—Marc lets himself smile shyly back and think, maybe… just maybe… the possibility isn’t as farfetched as he’s been thinking. Him and Nathaniel. As partners, and partners.

“I can’t wait either,” Marc replies, voice just as soft. It’s as if neither one wants to speak too loudly, to not break the moment, somehow.

Marc turns his hand over, threading his fingers with Nathaniel’s, and squeezes them together. Black-painted nails and black fingerless gloves settling perfectly together with a pale hand with bitten-off nails and wayward pen doodles on the knuckles and the palm lightly stained with paint.

Nathaniel ducks his head slightly, ears pink and smile wide enough to split his face.

Marc has to let go after a few seconds to pick up his pen and ready himself to write—he’s not ambidextrous as Nathaniel is, the talented bastard—but it doesn’t seem to matter. Nathaniel instantly scoots over on the bench, pressing their sides together, shoulders and elbows and thighs firmly connected.

Marc twirls his pen in his hand, looks over to beam at Nathaniel—who beams back—and then opens his notebook.

He feels like he won’t be able to write fast enough to capture all he’s feeling, this swell of emotions. Overwhelming joy, sweet fondness, a burst of giddiness, confused disbelief, a flutter of embarrassment, steady hope, and heart-thumping love.

He’s perfectly inspired, now.

So he puts his pen to paper, and writes.

...

[manage-mischief]

Regulus Black and the Darkest Shadows: Chapter 10

Read on AO3 or FF.net

Author’s Note: Gah sorry I’m late! This week has been crazy! Thanks, as always, for your support/comments/favorites/kudos! Y’all are the best. Enjoy the new chapter! And, as per usual, thanks to my fabulous beta reader @leahstypewriter. Follow @manage-mischief on Tumblr for more excerpts/requests!

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.

December 25th, 1978

Narcissa sat across the table from Regulus, her hands folded daintily in front of her. She regarded him curiously, studying his features. Regulus had no idea what to say. He knew why she had wanted to talk to him. But he wasn’t going to be the first to admit it. He tried is best to look naïve and innocent.

“Lucius told me,” Narcissa finally whispered.

“Told you what?”

“Don’t do that, Regulus. Don’t pretend.” She looked genuinely concerned.

“Alright. So, Lucius told you. What do you want from me?” He answered coldly.

“Merlin, Reg!” Narcissa scolded, “Don’t treat me like I’m one of your Death Eater friends! I’m not here to hurt you. I want to help.”

“They’re not my friends,” Regulus whispered.

“What?”  

“They’re not my friends. Not anymore,” he said, this time more boldly.

Narcissa stared at him like he was a wounded animal. “Oh Reg. Oh no.”

“Stop. I don’t need your pity or disapproval. You don’t…you don’t understand! I made mistakes, based on the lies our family has taught us! Now, I’m trying to make it right! You don’t understand what they want to do. What types of things they would have me do. You can ask your husband all about it!” Regulus snapped.

Narcissa winced from the obvious insult. “Lucius has…mentioned things. But Regulus, I’m not here to try and stop you. I’m not your mother. I’m here to warn you,” she said urgently.  

“Warn me about what?”

“That night,” Narcissa explained, “Lucius didn’t go to the Dark Lord. He Apparated home. He told me what he saw. You and that Ravenclaw Muggleborn—or girl raised by Muggles, I don’t know. But he saw you and her protecting her Muggle family. You fought against the Death Eaters, despite the fact that you are supposed to be one yourself.” She gestured to his left arm. He remained absolutely still. Her intensity scared him. Regulus had never seen Narcissa like this before.

“Regulus, Lucius told me that you betrayed him. And worse, you betrayed the Dark Lord. Now, I don’t pretend to condone all of his methods, nor do I claim to be innocent. I have my reservations, like you, but also like you, don’t dare speak of them to my loved ones. I doubt that I’ll ever fully join myself. However, whatever knowledge I have or don’t have in regards to the Dark Lord, I know that you don’t betray He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named and live to tell the tale. Worse, you don’t betray the family and get away with it,” his cousin hissed.

“For Merlin’s sake, Cissa. Mum and Dad would never kill me!”

“But you’d be as good as dead,” Narcissa said, solemnly. “You know how it is. When was the last time you spoke to Sirius? And me…I haven’t so much as seen Andromeda in years. She…she was my best friend, Regulus. And I’ve heard she has a daughter now and I’ve never even met her!” Narcissa’s voice broke, speaking about her disgraced sister. “My point is, you’re playing with fire. If you think your parents would protect you from You-Know-Who and risk their own reputation with one of the most powerful dark wizards the world has ever seen… you’re deluding yourself.”  

Regulus’s heart raced. His head spun. He had known he was in danger, but Narcissa’s words made it more real, more tangible. There was a good chance that this Christmas could be his last. “So,” Regulus swallowed. “You’ve come to warn me. When will it happen? When is he coming?”

“He isn’t.”

Regulus’s jaw dropped. The Dark Lord wasn’t coming to kill him?

Narcissa exhaled. “Lucius told me about your rendezvous in the woods before he said anything to the Dark Lord. He knew how devastated I would be if I lost another one of my family members in this battle of ideals.”

Regulus was shocked. Lucius had protected him? He would have never dreamed… “But…what about the others? Macnair and the Carrows? Didn’t they…?”

“No,” his cousin replied firmly, “They have been dealt with.”

“Dealt with?”

Narcissa placed her head in her hands. “I begged Lucius to save you. He promised me he wouldn’t tell The Dark Lord, but he told me there were others who saw. So, we went to Azkaban and…” Her voice shook.

“And what, Cissa?”

“The Imperius Curse,” she whispered. “I used it on a guard. And I used the guard to Obliviate Macnair and the Carrows.”

Regulus paled. He looked across the table at his cousin, who was eerily calm. And Unforgivable Curse? His cousin had used an Unforgivable Curse for him? Regulus felt awful. Selfish, childish, and absolutely awful. Here he was, gambling away his life and he didn’t care one bit about that—but he never wanted innocent lives to be placed on the betting table. “Cissa…” he tried to comfort her.

“Don’t, Regulus. I would do it a million times over if it meant that you and the family would be safe. I’m not looking for pity. I’m a big girl, I can make my own choices. But please, please, whatever you do, be careful. I can’t ask Lucius to put his own life on the line by lying for you again. Please. Think about what you’re doing. Think about the family!” Narcissa was shouting, now.

“I am thinking about the family, Narcissa! I’m thinking about how I don’t want my only legacy to be death and pain and purity. I’m thinking about all this family has wanted me to do, and how long I’ve obeyed. I promise I will be more careful. But, I can’t promise you that I will go back to the way things were. For me, that would be a fate worse than death!” He shouted back, keeping his eyes glued to hers. The cousins were now standing inches from each other. Narcissa suddenly pulled him into a hard embrace. He returned the gesture.

“My Mum was right, Reg,” she whispered sadly into his chest. “You’re all grown up.”

---

Christmas and New Year’s had come and gone. Regulus had never been more eager to return to Hogwarts. He had instructed his new friends not to write to him, lest the letters be stolen and someone discover his treachery. Owl Post was so often intercepted, these days. He especially missed Des, whom he had thought about very frequently ever since their encounter at the hospital wing. When Bellatrix had asked him if there were any interesting women in his life, he’d immediately said no. However, in the back of his mind, he thought of Des. Regulus had begun to realize that his feelings for her may have evolved beyond the strictly platonic. He’d mostly brushed the thoughts aside. There had been way too much going on as of late. But now, with no school, friends, or Death Eaters to occupy his time, he began to imagine what it would be like to kiss her, to hold her, to feel her body pressed up against his own. Warmth filled his chest whenever he thought of her infectious laugh, her biting wit, or even her dramatic outbursts. She was like gravity for his thoughts. She pulled his thoughts towards her forcefully and was almost impossible to resist. He chided himself each time his mind wandered; this was not the time to be fixating on a schoolboy crush. Yet, Regulus continued to think about her.

One lazy afternoon, Regulus was reading a book in his room. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see light flurries of snow gently falling outside his large bedroom windows, coating the city in the white dust. He set down his book to watch, his eyes drooping as he followed the flakes’ movements. Suddenly, he heard a small scuffle downstairs. Curious, Regulus got up and crept down the steps, past the horrifying wall of House Elf heads, to see what was going on. His nerves were on high alert as he heard something—someone, breathing in the living room. His parents were not set to be home for a few more hours, and his mother had taken Kreacher with her...Who was here? Placing a hand on his wand, which was securely placed in his back pocket, he jumped through the threshold of the door into the living room to catch the intruder.

“Des?” Regulus was shocked to find his friend lounging on his downstairs couch in broad daylight. He felt his heart flutter in his chest. She looked at ease and utterly gorgeous. “How–wh-what are you doing here?”

Des’s eyes glinted mischievously. She stood up, painstakingly slowly, and walked to Regulus. Her hips swung seductively with each step. Her tight top hugged her waist, exposing the smooth skin of her stomach. Regulus swallowed hard. If his parents found her here...with him...

“We should be careful,” he managed to choke out, just as Des reached him. She stood before him, hands on hips, as if she was waiting for something.

“Well?” Des asked in a casual, expectant voice. She cocked an eyebrow and smirked, running the tip of her tongue over her soft, pale pink lips.

Regulus rushed forward to close the space between them, crashing his lips into hers. The moment he kissed her, all of his confusion faded away. She tasted better than anything he’d ever known. It was like quidditch and laughter and Honeydukes’s best chocolate, all wrapped up in the package of her lips. She breathed into him, her lips parting as he slid his tongue deeper into her mouth. Regulus felt his breath hitch as she wrapped her arms behind his neck.

His body followed his desires. He slid his hands down her back, relishing in her curves as he reached his target. Regulus lifted her with ease, and she responded by wrapping her legs around his waist. She was close. So close. Her thighs squeezed around him, providing a pleasant pressure. Des rocked into him, her moaning muffled by Regulus’s mouth on hers. How was this happening?

Regulus held her tighter and made for the couch, placing her down on the plush pillows. She released his neck and brought her hands above her own head, squirming with delight as he trailed kisses down her chest. Regulus groaned gutturally. He wanted her. “Are you ready?” He whispered in a low, throaty voice. Des opened her mouth, prepared to respond to his urgent plea.

But, instead of speaking, an odd, metallic clanging emerged from her throat. Regulus jumped up, frightened. “What the?” Suddenly, he felt a jolt of pain in his side.

Regulus opened his eyes. He was sprawled on the living room floor, next to the couch where he’d just been dreaming of Des not a moment earlier. He groaned, this time in frustration. Well, if he had any doubts about his feelings for Des before, they had definitely been resolved now. The odd, metallic clanking continued. The doorbell.

The doorbell turned into a light knocking on the door. As soon as the knuckles hit the wood, his Dark Mark began to burn furiously. Regulus bit his cheek to keep from crying out. Whoever this was--and Regulus was sure he knew--was not going to leave that easily. Fearful, Regulus tread down the hallway to answer the door. When he peered through the keyhole, his worst fears were confirmed. The Dark Lord was standing on his doorstep.

Regulus thanked Merlin he remembered the Occlumency lessons Snape had given him last year. He took a deep breath, closed off his mind as best he could (although he was still unsure if this would be enough to stop Voldemort from viewing his thoughts) and opened the door to his former master. He’d have to get very good at lying very quickly. His mind went into autopilot, ignoring the adrenaline coursing through his veins. This was life or death.

Voldemort smiled—which made his snake-like face look more terrifying than if he were frowning—and glided in. “You know, Regulus,” he spoke in a high, cold voice, “I don’t often come into London to make personal calls. Consider this an honor.” He paused and glanced at the younger boy.

Regulus realized Voldemort was waiting for him to bow. Shakily, he bent, his eyes fixed on the dusty carpet beneath his feat. “Please, have a seat. To what do I owe this honor, my Lord?” Had Lucius lied to Narcissa? Had the Dark Lord found out about the night on the Hogsmeade Trail?

Voldemort sat gracefully in an ornate, high back chair. He treated it like a throne, grasping the armrests with his long, white fingers. “I haven’t seen my youngest recruit in so long, dear boy! I thought it polite to check in. That is, after all, why I knocked on the front door.” His malicious smile stretched wider across his pale face.

“Th-Thank you, my Lord.” Oh, how Regulus wished his parents had been home. He couldn’t stand the intensity of Voldemort’s red eyes on his face, the cold air that seemed to envelop him like a cloak.

“You are quite welcome. And also, quite wise to believe that I am not merely here for pleasantries, Regulus. I have a favor to ask of you.”

Regulus dug his fingernails into his palm, using all of his willpower to keep his voice steady and his mind closed. “Of…of course my Lord. Though, I am young, and could hardly hope to accomplish as much as some of my more experienced compatriots.��

“Oh, do not worry. This is a simple favor. Barely even requires a thought.” Voldemort folded his hands as he regarded the wizard in front of him.

“You know, dear Regulus, you remind me a lot of myself, when I was young.” He waited, as if he expected Regulus to say something. However, Regulus could barely process the swords, let alone respond to them.

Voldemort’s smile faded a bit. “I know you were about to argue that you could never, not even in your wildest dreams, hope to achieve what I have. And you would be right, of course. However, your spirit, it…impresses me. You are descended from greatness, as I was—you are aware that I am descended from Salazar Slytherin himself, of course. You are a handsome, talented young boy, who has a bright future ahead of him. Yet, you see beyond.  You understand there are greater things in life than success. You strive for greater principles than money and prestige.”

Internally, Regulus laughed. Greater principles. If he only knew. “Thank you, my Lord.”

“And so, this is why I come to you, today. You have reached a higher stage of moral reasoning at 17 years old than most adults will in their lifetime.”

“What exactly is it you require of me, my Lord?” Regulus asked, hoping to end this conversation as soon as possible. Though he had decent skills as an Occlumens, he had never been as good as Severus, and could feel his thoughts struggling against the vice within which he had trapped them.

“I am in need of a house elf.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow. That was all? He needed his house elf? “Of-Of course my Lord. Will you be requiring Kreacher’s services now?”

“No, no, not today. I am afraid it is too late to make the journey today,” Voldemort mused. “Tomorrow. Yes, tomorrow will do. I shall pick him up tomorrow, and he will help me perform the…errand, I require.”

Regulus sighed in relief. “Very well, my Lord. Tomorrow, then. Kreacher is a good elf, sir,” He added, putting in a good word for the elf whom he cared for.

“I don’t doubt it. Thank you for your time, young Mister Black. I shall be seeing you soon, my boy.” There was a crack, and Voldemort was gone. Regulus collapsed back into his chair, almost giddy at the fact that he had managed to hide his betrayal from Voldemort. If he ever saw Severus again, he would thank him a million times over for the Occlumency lessons. Still relieved, knowing that he himself was not asked to perform any tasks for Voldemort, he cheerfully summoned Kreacher.

“Yes, Master Regulus?” the elf popped into the room as soon as his name was called.

“Kreacher, I have a very important job for you. And remember, it’s just Regulus.” Regulus smiled at the elf.

“Kreacher would be honored to perform any such task that Ma-…Regulus…deems important.”

“The Dark Lord requires a house elf to run an errand with him. He will come for you tomorrow and take you for the day. Do what he says, and then come back home? Alright?”

“Yes, of course, Regulus!” His huge eyes gleamed. “Is that all?” Kreacher asked. Regulus nodded and watched as Kreacher happily sauntered out of the room.

Regulus climbed the stairs up to his own bedroom, wanting to finish his book. His heart was still beating faster than a hummingbird’s as he lounged on the mattress. He smiled as he read. He had escaped wrath from the forest battle, he had survived an encounter with Voldemort. Perhaps, he thought to himself, life was looking up.

[thephantomporg84]

[REDACTED] be complaining reg. the reactions of having "placed the cultist island Fortuna off the coast of Florida" while having the gall of "It’s the story & the way it’s told that should fucking matter" & "Who cares? It’s fictional geography, you idiots." Feels a bit like failing World-Building 101. I mean, Red Grave based on London would also be a callback to Dante's early concept of being a Brit.

Someone already sent me the whole post of hers that I’m pretty sure you’re referring to lmao. I’m in a particularly cunty but pleasant mood rn, and analysis is kind of my thing, so lets’s break it down, shall we?

Maybe someone can send this her way and… learn that tiny little brain of hers a thing. 😉

It’s fictional geography called world building, you idiots Karen after the cut:

‘I love how a number of shitheels have screeched amongst themselves on this hellsite about how I had placed the cultist island Fortuna off the coast of Florida or somewhere around the Gulf US states (re: the fanfic & project link in my header), whining that it should’ve been in Europe, namely Italy.’

An admission to stalking profiles is not exactly the best way to start a self-righteous rant or advertise your… magnum opus, but go off, I guess.

‘Not only that, but they whined about “plotholes and inconsistencies” without elaborating on what the latter are. The asshole who made the rant was annoyed when I used a poem as a spell in the story (“if I heard that, I’d turn off my PS4.”), but I’m sure she didn’t bitch about the cutscene before the last Agnus boss fight in DMC4.’

Like the movie The Room (2003), it’s just easier to say “all of it” is bad because “all of it” contains plotholes and is inconsistent in tone, has terrible half-baked ideas and plot threads that remain unresolved and/or do nothing to further the plot, is rife with poor + inconsistent characterization, has a lack of any knowledge how the medium it exists in is made, and in general makes me wonder how much pottery enamel you’ve been huffing to think any of this was a good idea. Howeverrrr, in contrast to you, Tommy Wiseau is kind of odd and weirdly charming both in general and about his terrible movie — he’s found glory and success in its terribleness. You, in contrast, remain a miserable cunt with delusions of grandeur.

Dante and Agnus’ Shakespeare bit is actually a pretty well known trope called Ham-to-Ham Combat. Dante and Agnus are both ridiculous Large Hams in DMC4, and when two Large Hams meet, in general, they are likely gonna try to ‘out-over dramatic’ each other. This can lead to a scene becoming either really funny or really corny (or both) really fast. If things go too far — and they do, in this case — the scene can become a Hormel Event Horizon.

‘…but they LOVE the plotholes & inconsistencies if Capcom makes the latter, and writes a terrible story! And Crapcom’s canon for DMC is as straight as a paperclip or a dog’s hind leg. Hypocritical pricks.’

Subjective opinion is not, and never will be, objective fact. People are, as of when I checked again in the last ~5 minutes or so, absolutely able to enjoy whatever media they want regardless of what the general consensus on the quality of that media is.

As an example, I enjoy The Room (2003) despite its terribleness and it never fails to make me laugh, while your magnum opus makes me want to huff pottery enamel so the pain will stop despite you thinking it is the work of an idiot savant.

‘They were also mad that I wrote Dante as a wiseguy who is a little more low-key about it due to the circumstances— instead of being a pathetic manchild airhead that tries too hard.’

You didn’t write Dante.

You wrote Reboot!Donte — a fucking terribly out of character version of him, at that.

‘I was primarily concerned about moving the story along. I didn’t care about where a fictional island is supposed to go.’

You literally had one (1) job, Karen.

‘…Meanwhile, not a single character in DMC4 had an Italian accent, so uh, why should I give a flying fuck where I put it?’

Haven’t you been like… shitting on the DMC staff… for terrible writing… this enti— You know what? You’re obvs way too dumb to notice that contradiction, so I’ll let it slide.

Just… a word of advice, if I may? Don’t ever watch dub TV shows. That last brain cell would fuckin’ just burst all over your carpet.

(Actually, don’t watch subtitled shows either. An extremely popular anime that was set in Italy just wrapped and all the characters — le gasp! — spoke fucking Japanese. You would shit.)

‘I wasn’t paid to write any of what I wrote, but be my guest & send a PM if you want to throw money at me. By all means, do that.’

Oh, thank fuck, because they would have been ripped off, big time.

[ btw, you sound p. jealous of people that write/do creative work/commissions for ko-fi/payment tho. Not a good look tbbh. If it’s any consolation, though, I don’t get paid for making fun of you and/or analyzing your dumb bullshit, either. :( ]

‘The pricks at Capcom didn’t even bother giving us a proper DMC4 and it was a half-assed game, with the latter half being hasty filler material. The “special edition” they coughed up in 2015 was just glorified overpriced DLC.’

Ya know, you gotta be pretty far up your own ass to think this much of your opinion. And I’m saying this as a person that’s pretty far up her own ass like 85% of the time.

‘And another thing, Redgrave City in DMC5 seems to be in England, yet no survivors speak with English accents or slang/dialects.’

Pretty sure no survivors had speaking roles.

If you played the game you’d know this.

‘Meanwhile, Dante and Vergil had lived there when they were kids (until age 8), but they both have ordinary American or Canadian accents. Furthermore, how did the twins make it to the USA or Canada? According to the little booklet in the DMC1 game case, Dante’s office is in modern America.’

You know that invoking the imagery of a specific place without naming your location is normal and standard practice, right? Overwatch even does this (For Ex: Byōdō-in (平等院), Uji, Kyoto Prefecture, Japan is the inspiration for Hanamura, Château de Duingt, Duingt, France for Château Guillard, etc.)

Furthermore, you know the original DMC was a rejected first draft of Resident Evil 4, right? This is what retcon is for. You at least know what retcon is, right?

‘…That information isn’t very important, but I’m bringing it up to illustrate a point that being a fucking pedant about geography in a fantasy game is idiotic, even if the setting is akin to modern Earth.’

So is freaking the fuck out and sending death threats over a fantasy game but you didn’t let that stop you either lmfao.

It’s actually super important to establish your scenery and the way your world operates, especially in a written work in which readers are dependent on your vision and your descriptions, and if you were a decent writer, you’d know this.

‘It’s the story & the way it’s told that should fucking matter.’

YOU HAD ONE (1) JOB, KAREN.

‘What US states are the Arklay Mountains located in?’

General description puts them in the U.S. Midwest. Raccoon City itself is stated to have a population of ~100,000 at the time of outbreak, and the only city in the Midwest that matches that population in 1998 is Springfield, Missouri, with a pop. of ~110,000.

Springfield is on the Springfield Plateau of the Ozarks region of SW Missouri. So they’re part of the Ozark Mountains.

This all took less than ~3 minutes to google, btw.

‘Where is “Zanzibar Land?”’

I actually just wrote a comprehensive answer to an ask a few weeks ago about this. It’s actually stated to be in Tselinoyarsk (Целиноярск), the (fictional) area of the former USSR in which Big Boss carried out the Virtuous Mission/Operation Snake Eater in 1964. Tselinoyarsk itself is heavily implied to consist of parts of Kyrgyzstan and/or Tajikistan. If you played MGS3 you’d know how important the setting and the varied environments/climates are to the game mechan-

oh yeah wait you believe in segregation of story and gameplay mechanics. I forget you’re completely tone deaf sometimes lmao.

How far is ‘Salem’s Lot or Derry from Bangor? Who cares?’

Stephen King does, quite a bit. He even has a map on his website of ‘his’ fictional version of Maine:

My disappointment is immeasurable, Karen.

[reg-arcturus]

—— isn’t that regulus black? yeah that is them, sitting there at the slytherin table with those other fifth years. when sybill looks into that crystal ball of hers, she sees the love of her life and future husband, a series of choices that are impossible to make, an anvil, late night cocoa runs, secrets kept and promises broken, sections of burnt tapestry, loss that never lessens, and hope that never dies. anyway i’ve heard they’re pretty clever, petty, and dramatic. apparently they’re a venit tempestas and pureblood but i’m sure that’s not related. ——

→ NAME: regulus arcturus black → NICKNAMES: regs, black #5, baby black → AGE / D.O.B.: 16 / 23 december → SPECIES: pureblood wizard → GENDER / PRONOUNS: cismale / he&him → SEXUALITY: sybillsexual 

FAMILY → PARENTS: orion and walburga black → SIBLINGS: the ex-brother formerly known as sirius orion black → COUSINS: hahahahahahaha every pureblood in the castle is his cousin, that’s a long list, let’s not → PETS: two owls, archie and daisy 

LIFESTYLE → BORN:   london  , england → RAISED:   england → CURRENT RESIDENCE: hogwarts castle / 12 grimmauld place → NATIONALITY: english → LANGUAGES: english, french,  → OCCUPATION: student, prefect, seeker → DRINK | SMOKE | DRUGS: sometimes, sometimes, rarely → RELIGION: can i...? is this a bad time to make a hosier joke?

PHYSICAL ATTRIBUTES → FACE CLAIM: thomas doherty → HEIGHT: 5ft. 11 in. → WEIGHT: 170 lbs → BUILD: lean, lightly toned, cute af → HAIR: black, short-medium, waves → EYE COLOR: blue-grey → DOMINANT HAND: right → SCENT: citrus + pine → NERVOUS HABITS: voicing cruel observations, defaulting to Black Mode™

CHARACTER → MORAL ALIGNMENT: neutral good → MBTI: remind me to remember → WESTERN ZODIAC: capricorn → SONG: disappear - motion city soundtrack

MAGIC → WAND: elm, unicorn, 11″, slightly springy → PATRONUS: he can’t make one.....YET, boy-o has never tried, ya dig? → BOGGART:  let’s not talk about this. we’re having a good day

BIO

 It’s the heir to the most noble and ancient house of black, y’all

aka the most broken and dramatic family

drama for days each one with their own flair...and then there’s regs

he grew a backbone during the last term, and things have been going pretty well

in fact, the words ‘everything’s coming up regulus’ have been uttered

by him, sure, but whatever

he’s the baby of the family, and to date...he’s never not gotten his way when it comes to, well, just about anything, really.

he’s absolutely stupid messy head over heels for sybill and we love it so much

even walburga likes her (a surprise, i know, she likes nobody, and yet.. no one can resist syb’s charms)

regs doesn’t know what to do next, or where to go

he knows that if he does what his parents are pushing him towards, he may not make it out alive

but he’s a comfortable boy who wants for nothing.... he could never leave the way sirius did

no lie

i feel a little wonky writing a bio for regulus we all know regulus

scared of spiders (big ones)

he was almost engaged once, except... the almost engagement was broken off entirely when walburga happened to walk into a room and find her precious baby boy in a compromising position - and ellie’s hands down his trousers (it was a rough night, cut them some slack, distractions are better than wallowing in depression)

oops

they’re still friends though because ellie is one of the few people who acknowledges regulus as regulus

a separate individual

and not just The Black Heir

he feels invisible a lot

spends every second he can with sybill 

but if he’s not with sybill he might be on the pitch

flying is a nice way to clear the mind after all, and it gets hard to breathe in the dungeons sometimes

this got away from me

im gonna go now

kbye

[foxymuses]

an incomplete list of headcanons for sirius black:

there was a period of about 6-8 months between running away/being disowned and receiving his uncle’s inheritance when sirius had absolutely nothing to his name but the misc junk he’d shoved in a bag when he left the house to go to james. the potters, ignoring sirius’ claims they didn’t have to, bought him a moderate amount of items including but not limited to clothes, school materials, and various items for the room he’d already claimed at their house. when his inheritance kicked in, he tried to pay them back. they refused.

sirius was always more afraid of his father than his mother (which is the opposite of regulus). the reason is that his mother was more concerned with appearances outside the family, but was content to simply act as if sirius didn’t exist when they were at home, which was fine for both of them (and on some occasions, the worst that would happen is she’d scream and yell and be generally unpleasant, and true she’d be the one to force a hair cut or destroy his ‘revolting’ muggle/gryffindor items). however his father was the disciplinarian. his father rarely raised his voice, but was the first to raise a hand or wand to correct behaviors or punish misbehaviors, and though sirius would stand up for himself and was not scared into silence, there were many instances where he would show up to the potters in the middle of the night, or return from mandatory holidays during the school year, with signs of magically induced injury.

following that, sirius is always the first to jump to the defense of others, completely disregarding his own safety or the danger of the situation, and has been known to laugh in the face of those that think they can fight him, and generally doesn’t react to anyone who rises to attack him either verbally or physically, but whenever his father even shifted slightly, sirius would tense and brace, and there were several instances in public where a disagreement would start and though often the marauder’s were nearby and out of ear shot, they’d know things were going poorly because sirius, who never ever shows fear to anyone, would flinch

it’s clear from prisoner of azkaban that sirius could have escaped at any point. all he did was become padfoot and get past the dementors who weren’t looking for or caring about animals (literally his words). there is no true reason he had to wait twelve years except for dramatic story telling. that being said, the shock of the situation prevented any of this from logically settling in his mind for the first few weeks, and then after that, the dementors and their constant soulsucking presence did make it easier for sirius to blame himself for james and lily dying. he convinced them to make their secret keeper peter instead of him, he didn’t try hard enough to keep them safe, he should’ve actually killed peter, fuck what’s happening to harry, where is he, does anyone care about him, is he being taken care of, what’s remus doing, does remus think sirius did it, does remus hate him, is remus okay, it’s another full moon please let remus be okay, fuck if he gets out he’s going to strangle peter --- on and on, and it definitely gave him a huge amount of guilt on his shoulders, and regret, and despair, and while i personally don’t think it would have taken him 12 years to finally fucking decide to leave, it definitely did take several, especially since telling time within the walls of azkaban is near impossible

ON THAT NOTE, HOWEVER, it is this very guilt and anger that allowed him to muster the determination to finally fucking escape. even amidst all this guilt and fear and sorrow, sirius was strong enough to stay sane under the influence of the dementors and his own perceived failure, that he consciously made the decision to trick his way out. it was this very fury he felt towards peter and the injustice that he suffered because of his coward of a supposed best friend that fueled sirius’ ability to withstand the trails of being a prisoner at the worst wizarding prison. once his guilt subsisded enough for pure unadulterated hate to seep in, it was just a matter of deciding the best time to stage an escape

I REPEAT, I DO NOT BELIEVE IT TOOK HIM 12 YEARS at most, i would figure, personally, it happened in four or five. which, while following my canon divergent main verse, would still allow time for sirius to clear his name and fight for custody of harry, which he does successfully, by my canon, when harry is about seven. SO EVEN IF sirius isn’t instantly cleared as my main verse would like, he still winds up a single dad.

he has horrible nightmares after azkaban, regardless of when he gets out or how long he was there or whether he ends up raising harry. i personally would have it so that he and remus end up living together, both because sirius has his inheritance to support them, and because they’re the last two marauders and trusting others is hard for sirius to come by after everything, so living with remus is Safe and Easy, and he does everything he fucking can to make up for all the full moons he missed, but regardless of how Hard he tries to get back to some semblance of a normal life, he has severe ptsd from prison and he doesn’t sleep well and he doesn’t eat much and he drinks more (in verses where he doesn’t have custody) and he smokes a shit ton more and he spends more time as padfoot than he does as a human because being a dog is just so much simpler and he has fewer worries, and remus is fucking worried as shit about him because sirius was always the strongest of the four of them (fight me on this i dare you) and to see the confident, arrogant, and generally easy-going carefree rebel that was sirius black in school turned into a jumpy, irritable, shattered shell of himself is hard and sirius never truly recovers from that damage, he just gets better at hiding it, and he does a hell of a lot better at healing when he does have custody of harry because harry gives him purpose in a way that remus can’t.

when sirius inevitably comes across peter again, he does try to kill him. whether he genuinely fails or subconsciously stops himself because peter, as much as sirius resents and hates and would love to grind him into little rat pieces, was a friend and was someone sirius trusted and cherished and would have protected with his life, and no matter how much he very much wants to kill the bastard, he can’t

shifting gears a bit, but sirius had never and still doesn’t really see himself ever getting married. he never even wanted kids until harry came around, and even then, the only kid he’ll ever have is in my canon divergency where he raises harry himself. in that verse he is more open to a co-parenting relationship (re: when he’s with @gavrele‘s gabe, or if he were to be with remus or another marauder’s era character who survived either by au or in canon), which can be considered romantic or merely a mutual desire to raise this orphaned child, but in that instance, he still probably wouldn’t want marriage, because it makes him seriously uncomfortable just thinking about it, and at the very most he would just agree to mutually wear signifying rings but not actually make it official, so that way if at any point he does feel weird about it he won’t feel bad about taking the ring off for a few days until the feeling passes

he learns of regulus’ dying while he’s in azkaban and listen canon sirius was very ‘meh’ about the whole deal, which really pisses me off, so my sirius was very torn. and it doesn’t help that most people just write reggie off as disappearing, they don’t know the story, they just assume he died in the war or voldemort disposed of him or something, doesn’t matter, he learns that regulus is gone, and his father is gone, and his mother ends up dying shortly before he gets out, and sirius is alone really and truly, and when he returns home for the first time in years, he manages to convince kreacher to explain the situation because even if he doesn’t particularly like kreacher, they both loved regulus, and sirius crafts a makeshift grave for his brother which he visits reguluarly, and though he doesn’t usually say much except “hey reg”, the first time he broke down sobbing because he tried so hard to get regulus to see the right side of the war, but he didn’t try hard enough, and he should’ve worked harder to keep reg safe, what an awful brother he was, he only ever thought of himself, if he just took regulus with him when he ran away maybe they could’ve avoided this, fuck he’s sorry he fucked up, he’s so proud that regulus stood up to voldemort in the end, he doesn’t care if it was for selfishness or fear or whatever, he’s so proud, he wishes regulus would know how proud he is

he actively keeps harry as safe as possible, doesn’t let half the shit that happens happen to him, fully supports and listens to him whenever the kid says ‘something is going on”, talks with him through it, tells him all the stories of james and lily that he can, never treats harry as less than his own blooded son because to him harry is his son, but he also never tries to replace james with himself, and harry knows how much sirius loved james and lily and how sirius only wants harry to be safe and happy, and merlin did he cry the first time harry called him dad and told him that he knows sirius isn’t his real dad but its okay to have more than one dad, he still loves james too he just loves sirius as much, and when he saw sirius almost crying, he asked if that was okay, and sirius could not express how absolutely perfect that was and later when talking to remus, remus had to hold a conflicted sirius for at least half an hour because he adored the idea but god he misses james so much, he wishes this wasnt the situation but it is and fuck it hurts (remus is uncle, by the way)

he literally stands between snape and harry, and dumbledore and harry, and does not let lucius anywhere near harry (and only allows cissa after a tentative no-children meeting, where they agree to not be enemies but rather awkward cousins like they are, and sometimes even let draco and harry play together) and harry is raised knowing about the prophecy, and since he’s raised in the wizarding world he’s not a commodity, by the time he starts hogwarts, everyone has kind of gotten over the hype so he can be mostly normal, and yeah strange things keep happening but the second harry tells sirius (because harry is raised in an open and loving environment where talking about things is encouraged), sirius does shit about it, and yeah voldemort wasn’t vanquished, he is still waiting, and sirius can’t be everywhere, but when harry says voldemort is back, sirius fucking rallies and essentially one-man-armies the ministry into fucking doing something about it because he lived through that hell in his last few years of hogwarts, he lost friends to it, he is not going to watch it happen again and nothing is going to hurt harry period

naturally, this means he doesn’t die in the department of mysteries because when the dreams start happening, harry talks about them with him, and they work it out together.

sirius doesn’t get a job because he doesn’t need one, and all of harry’s inheritance from james is purely harry’s, sirius doesn’t touch an ounce of it, and in fact regularly adds to it of his own inheritance, but sirius is seen roaming random places offering assistance, usually in regards to muggle nonsense (think hands on mechanics stuff) because he’s good at it and he doesn’t know what to do with his time, but he never lets them pay

he helps fund the weasley’s prank store. ron is a little odd, and hermione is sometimes annoying, and boy does he have a soft spot for neville because sirius knows about his parents, and you can bet that rather than lifting the map from filch, sirius straight up gave it to fred and george, and remus later confiscated it from his now-permanent DADA position (or whatever position remus wants, tbh) and sirius got an earful before telling remus he knew the other would give it back to them, which he did

i could continue but i should probably start another post to do so SO THERE YOU ARE

[ideas-for-you-to-adopt]

Of Masks and Hatred pt. 5

A/N: Hey guys. I have a confession to make. Despite writing a Riverdale fanfiction, I have never seen an entire episode of the show so please forgive me if the details aren’t really that accurate. Also, this is the longest part I’ve ever written for a story. Ever. I didn’t even notice it had already gotten so long. I had so much fun writing this so I hope you like this one. Enjoy Word count: 3.3k

You can hear whispers and feel stares as you walk away from Weatherbee’s office, not that you can blame them. You’ve been away for a whole week after the scene with Veronica and you come back showing up with a cast on your right hand. They look away and scramble faster than you can think once they see you looking back at them. You internally sigh as you make your way to your locker. You hear loud masculine voices as you drop your stuff and make sense of your schedule. Closing your locker, you’re met with a trio of grinning jocks, looking at you like Christmas just came early. You narrow your eyes at them which didn’t seem to help and just made their grins wider. On the corner of your eye, you see Toni and her friends who you remember Cheryl called Sweet Pea and Fangs, seem to tense while watching. “What are you three imbeciles smiling about?” You notice the middle one glancing at your cast smirking before taking a step forward making you frown. You then notice how quiet the hallway seems to be. You see Toni and her friends being held up by a familiar guy in a beanie. “Seems like little Y/N/N got herself in trouble.” “You’ll be the one in trouble if you don’t stop using that ridiculous nickname on me, Reg-reg.” The two jocks flanking him tries to keep their snickers in but failing. “Oi! That is so not cool!” Reggie crosses his arms while narrowing his eyes on you. The action causes you to smirk. “I see you’re still a big baby, Reg-reg. And seriously, it fits you. You were never cool to begin with.” The two jocks can’t help but guffaw in laughter as Reggie began to stomp. “Damn it, Y/N. You’re still as annoying as ever,” Reggie resigns and raises his hands in defeat before looking at you, face softening. “It’s great to have you back, Y/N/N.” “It’s good to be back,” you turn your gaze to the two other jocks. “Chuck, Moose, you’ve grown!” “Hey, Y/N. It’s been a while. We wanted to say hi to you last week but you weren’t around,” Chuck says while he pats your head. “I remember you used to be taller than us.” You groan as you swat his hand away. “I can still kick your arse.” “Now you got the cool accent too,” Moose chuckles. “We thought you weren’t coming back. I never had the chance to thank you for the bike you got me before you left.” You sigh before lightly punching his stomach, something you used to do to them when you were kids. You may not be as friendly as your twin but you still made friends when you were kids. Instead of playing with barbie dolls like your twin, you’d rather sit on a park bench and read. That was until you met the boys when you were nine after you threw the football that landed on your foot back to Reggie’s face. At first you apologized but he thought you were cool for a girl and so he introduced you to his friends. “You boys aren’t giving Y/N here trouble, are you?” You hear a feminine soft voice ask. Reggie takes the new comer into his arm. “Well, well. Look at that. Reg-reg found himself a girlfriend,” you and the boys snicker as Reggie blushes. Josie looks at you all in amusement. “No need to worry, Josie. I can keep these boys in line.” “Glad to hear that. Reggie alone is hard to look after,” she grins as Reggie looks at her with a pout to which she kisses his cheek. “Okay lovebirds, that’s enough. We’ll see you later Y/N.” Chuck leads them away before you hear your name being called. Turning around you see Cheryl striding towards you confidently being followed by Toni and the three boys. She kisses your cheek before glancing at your cast. “You did not drive that death trap you call Midnight to school, did you?” “No. I drove the Bugatti.” Instead of appeasing her as you expected, Cheryl looks at you as if you’re the biggest idiot she has ever seen and considering her rant about Riverdale High being filled with brainless imbeciles, that’s quite a feat. “On one hand?” You nod meekly as she huffs. On your peripheral vision, you take in everyone looking at you two either in amusement or confusion. “Y/F/N. Y/M/N, Y/L/N!!! With a Superior IQ of 127, please explain to me what on this trashy hideous giant piece of terrestrial plane we call Earth made you think that it is perfectly alright to drive a freaking Bugatti with only one perfectly functioning hand?” You take a step back before sending a pleading look towards Toni who winces at you shaking her head. You rub your nape with your hand and smiles sheepishly at Cheryl before taking a deep breath and giving her a soft smile. The smile you only give to her and Elena when you were kids. “I’m fine, Cher. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll hire a chauffeur to drive me around.” She softens her gaze at you and in that moment you know you’ve won. “Fine. You better make sure you already have one by tomorrow. I’ll be driving you home later after we go to Pop’s.” Toni clears her throat making Cheryl jump a bit. By the surprised look on the redhead’s face, she must’ve thought they left you alone by now. “We have cheer practice later, Cheryl.” Cheryl sighs before turning to you. “Mind waiting for me? We can get milkshakes after practice. Then we’ll stop by Thistle House so I can get some things then we’ll have a sleepover. Since y'know… you’ve been gone for a week.” You notice Sweet Pea and Toni exchanging a weird look making you furrow your eyebrows. “Oh these are Sweet Pea and Fangs,” Cheryl points to the two before landing her eyes on Jughead. “And the hobo-looking one is Jughead.” Your eyes take in Jughead’s appearance, a spark of recognition finally hits you after staring at his beanie for a bit longer. “Forsy? Forsy Jo?” He groans then rolls his eyes. “Ry-ry,” he says with a straight face making you cringe. “Okay, ‘Jughead’,” you use your good hand’s index and middle fingers to make quotation air marks. “Let’s drop the childhood nicknames. You’re still scrawny.” The Serpent boys doesn’t even try to hide their snickers as Toni looks at Jughead with a smirk while Cheryl is just plain bored. “Now if you’re done with your reunion. It’s about time we get to class,” her red manicured thumb and index finger meticulously picks up your sched. “Why do you have basic introductory subjects? Algebra, Biology, English I, et cetera.” “Grandpa made me take all the advanced ones at London. So I’m already done with calculus and whatnots. I asked Weatherbee if I could have as many classes crammed on the first two days. I’m taking extra classes online.” “This, my dear, is the reason why you need a social life,” Cheryl rolls her eyes. “C'mon, Toni. Let’s head to class.” She quickly slips her hand to hold Toni’s as they both confidently stride through the hallways. “So you’re the owner of the Ducati?” The guy called Fangs asks. “I told you it was a Harley,” Sweet Pea retorts before you can even answer. “It’s a Ducati,” Fangs rolls his eyes dramatically as he crosses his arms. “It’s a Harley,” Sweet Pea. “Why don’t you let the owner speak?” Jughead grumbles. The two serpents quickly turn their attention to you looking at you in anticipation. “It’s actually both. I like the Ducati design and Harley’s motors so I figured I’d cross it,” you shrug as you make your way to your class. The boys following you like some puppies. “You made a hybrid…"Fangs looks at you with a dazed expression,“out of a Ducati and a Harley?” “Yes, it was hard at first. Trying to work on making them compatible but it did work so….” you try to explain nonchalantly even if you’re geeking out inside. You’ve always been in love with motorcycles. The thrill of it really. And knowing people are enthusiastic about it as much as you are makes you quite excited. “We should race,” Sweet Pea decides. “Once your hand heals.” You don’t even think about it before you answer. “Yes, sure. I’d like that. I miss racing. You better prepare though. I haven’t lost a race yet.” “Don’t cry once you do then,” Sweet Pea smirks. “Seriously, you two?” Jughead rolls his eyes. “Y/N, you know Cheryl’s gonna kill you once she finds out, right? And Sweet Pea, did you really have to? She hasn’t even healed yet!” “Good thing she’s not going to know, right Jughead?” You look at him with a mischievous smirk. “I’ll see you boys later. This is my stop.” You quickly took off even before Jughead can retort.

Time seems to pass slowly as classes commence. Betty and Jughead make their way to the cafeteria when Archie rushes towards them and leads them to an empty classroom. “What the hell are we doing here?” “We’re waiting for Veronica. Oh, here she comes,” Archie responds as Veronica hurriedly rushes in. “God, this is a nightmare,” Veronica grumbles as she approaches the trio. “Okay, what’s this about V?” Betty exchanges a look with Jughead. Veronica slips her hand into her bag and takes out a cellphone placing it on top of a table. “What are you doing with Cheryl’s phone? I heard she lost it last week,” Jughead eyes the phone with trepidation then turns his glance on Veronica. “Eversince what happened last week, people would glare at me, talk behind my back or outright ignore me. It’s like Ethel giving out those flyers over again but worse,” Veronica huffs. “And what does that have to do with Cheryl’s phone?” “Jughead, people say that Y/N’s bestfriends with Cheryl and Cheryl’s not exactly the best person out there. For all we know they could’ve been planning something behind my back.” “What exactly do you have in mind, V?” “Well, Betty, now that you’ve mentioned it….."Veronica trails off as she looks at Betty with a hopeful look. "V, no! I’m not doing it!” Betty moves a step back and bites her lip “Betty, look, I know this sounds bad but there is absolutely no way that Y/N won’t do anything about me. You’ve seen how she reacted last week. And have you seen her hand? It’s on a cast! And there are rumors that she went to Greendale. She must’ve done something there! She left the first day of school instead of staying until the weekend. It must’ve been something important. Or dangerous. Or… or whatever. Something she couldn’t do here because my mom is mayor here in Riverdale? Something that can possibly be a danger to me… to my family.” “Veronica, aren’t you getting a bit paranoid?” Jughead carefully questions her “No, Jughead. Don’t you get it?I need to know what possible things she’s hidden. Any possible weakness. Anything I can use to strike against her before she strikes first. I need to know how to defend myself from her and the Rileys,” Veronica all but screams. “V, I think Jughead’s right. You need to relax,” Betty tells her bestfriend. Before Veronica can answer, a loud thud hits the door causing them to spread apart and grow silent. Trying to hear what could’ve possibly made the noise, an influx of students pass by. Veronicagoes and locks the door.“I must’ve not locked it properly.” Betty and Jughead exchange a look before Jughead sighs. “Whatever it is you’re planning, count me out,” he heaves out making everyone look at him. “It doesn’t seem like a good idea to me. Plus that’s invasion of privacy. And it’s not even Y/N’s privacy.” “Jug, we’ve literally done this before,” Archie reasons out. “It’s different. We were after murderers then. Looking for clues, solving mysteries. But this,” Jughead motions to Cheryl’s phone. “This is a disaster waiting to happen.” Betty looks at Archie who moves closer to a distraught Veronica. She can see the dark circles underneath the other girl’s eyes and takes careful note of how exhausted the raven-haired girl looks. “I’m sorry, V, but Jughead does have a point. This is too far.” She reaches for Jughead’s hand and intertwines their fingers before leaving the room. “What are we going to do now, Arch?” Veronica clings to the gingerhead boy. “I don’t know, Ronnie,” Archie answers as he kisses the top of her head. His eyes landed on the phone on the table. “I don’t know.”

The remaining hours of the day seem to trickle down slower than usual. When the final bell rings, Archie makes a beeline for Jughead. “Archie, you can’t make me do something we’re not sure what the consequences will be without enough evidence. Have you really seen Veronica lately? Like really seen her?” “She’s exhausted, Jughead. She broke down earlier when you and Betty left.” “And what’s the cause? Paranoia. Why? Because she’s afraid. Again, why? Because she’s guilty.” “Jughead….” “Archie, I’m not saying that she’s a bad person because we can clearly see how she’s been trying to atone for all her and her family’s mistakes. I’m not judging her. I’m only stating the facts. Anyway, have you at least persuaded Ronnie to get rid of the phone?” As they reach the music room and before Archie can respond to what Jughead said, the sound of Beethoven’s Moonlight Sonata reached their ears. Due to curiosity, the two entered the room only to see you playing the piano. Your uninjured hand pressing on the keys as the other rests on the side, eyes closed as if feeling every note of the melody. Gently but surely, your fingers hit each note, your head lightly swaying to the beat. They watch you until you finally stopped. “Piano Sonata no. 14 in C# minor, op. 27 no. 2 or more popularly known as Beethoven’s The Moonlight Sonata. Shame I can’t play it with both hands but this have to do for now,” you turn your attention to them as you began playing, albeit more softly than earlier. You gave each of them a nod. “Archie, Jughead, it’s been a while since the three of us had time together.” “Yeah, things have… changed… a lot… since the last time,"Jughead tilts his head, trying to study you. His eyes landing on the cast wrapping your injured hand. How you can still play well with only one hand is a mystery to him "Ahhh… changes,” the corner of your lips upturns a bit. “It’s inevitable, and yet…."you press unto the keys faster and firmer. Your face seemingly morphing in a daze as you play. "Did you two know that the Moonlight Sonata has three parts? Most people don’t. They only seem to remember the first one. I can’t blame them. The first one’s melody is relaxing. Peaceful. Hypnotic even.” “Y/N—"Archie tries to speak but you cut him off. "The second movement sounds like a walk in the park if I think about it. A bit energetic. Quite the change after the first movement, but not unwelcome.” “Y/N. I need to speak to you about Veronica.” The moment you heard her name, you press the wrong key making it offtune. “Please, Y/N. Hear me out,” Archie takes a stool and places it in front of you. “I’m sorry about Elena but you can’t put all the blame on Veronica.” You stare at the piano keys blankly before slowly settling your eyes on the boy in front of you. You also feel Jughead moving closer to you. “Tell me, Archie. Who am I going to blame then?” “No one!” For a while you kept your gaze locked on his face. But then you turn your attention back to the piano, this time your injured hand hitting the keys on certain parts. “The third movement–fast, and ROUGH. A seemingly inappropriate change to accompany the first movement. It seems wild. It seems clamorous. A chaotic melody.” You turn to Archie whose face has become pale. You grit your teeth as you slam your uninjured hand on the keys creating off-key tones instead of music. You feel Jughead’s hand on your shoulder. “Enough, Y/N.” You stop completely out of breath clenching your free hand. You try to regulate your breathing. Closing your eyes, you will yourself to calm down before opening them again and fixing your stare into Archie’s own eyes. Your eyes soften at the sight of him. You suddenly remember all those memories you once shared with him when you were children. You were saddened by the memories of how you used to be friends. You, him, and Jughead. And even Betty on occasion. “You’re comparable to the Moonlight Sonata, Andrews. You’ve changed. But unlike the sonata, yours is a melody I do not recognize anymore.” Jughead squeezes your shoulder causing you to look away from Archie. “Arch, you should leave. I’ll just see you later.” He immediately rushes out of the room. “You okay,Y/N/N?” He takes the seat Archie vacated. You nod as you ran your fingers through your hair. “Archie’s…. just worried about Veronica. I don’t know if Cheryl told you but he’s her boyfriend.” “She did tell me. And you’re Betty’s,” you smirk at him. “Betty’s a good catch. I approve.” “Yeah, she’s great.” “Okay loverboy. Don’t gush over her now. God, I remember having a crush on her,” you casually say taking in his stunned expression. “W-wait. What?” Jughead stutters. “You heard it right. I did have a crush on Betty. I came into terms with my sexuality two years ago,” you shrug. “So you’re what now?” “Human, of course,” you chuckle making him scowl. “A (Y/S) to be specific.” “Whoa. That’s cool. I mean, you being open about it,” he stammers. Your phone rings causing for you to take your attention from him. “I have to go. Cher’s been waiting for me at Pop’s... strange. I thought she has practice,” you tell him as you stand up. You give him a nod before getting your things and walking out. Jughead makes his way to the Blue and Gold.

After closing the room, Jughead sees Betty at the student lounge. “Hey.” “Hi,” Betty kisses his cheek as he sits down. “Cheryl’s a nightmare today. She and Toni made a new routine and my back’s killing me.” Betty feels Jughead tense. “What time did your practice end? Was Cheryl with you all throughout?” “It just ended a while ago. And yes, Cheryl’s been teaching us all throughout. I think she’s still in the locker room.” Jughead quickly stands up and breaks into a sprint causing Betty to run after him. “Wait, Jughead! What’s all this about?” “Y/N. She received a message from Cheryl earlier saying she’s waiting for her at Pop’s!” The door to the locker room slams as Jughead and Betty comes in. “Hobo, if you’re brain hasn’t figured it out yet, this is the vixen’s locker room! Aka sonewhere you shouldn’t be!” Cheryl’s voice can be heard in the four sides of the room. “Did you or did you not send Y/N a message telling her that you’re waiting for her at Pop’s?” Jughead unabashedly asked while the other undressed girls in the locker room tightens their hold on their towels except Josie who scrambled to get her phone after it rang signalling an incoming call. “No, I didn’t. I lost my phone last week. I already have a new one but the only time I’ve seen her after the time she left for Greendale was this morning and I forgot to get her number,” Cheryl crosses her arms. “Now what is this about?” “I was in the music room with her earlier when she received a message from you. You, Cheryl. It says you’re waiting for her at Pop’s but if you had practice with the vixens then that means–"before he can finish, he got interrupted by Josie whose words made all of them turn pale. "Cheryl, Reggie’s on the phone. He says Y/N got into an accident on the way to Pop’s.”

[when-picnic-remember-snacks]

Chapter One

Sirius Black is gorgeous, Remus thought as he looked carefully over his copy of the Daily Prophet. Sirius was animatedly describing his plan to get out of their next class, potions, by swallowing a drop of snake oil, which he had used to get out of family affairs several times as a child. He couldn’t help but fix his eyes on a rogue lock of black hair that curled over Sirius’ left eyebrow and tangled with his long, curly eyelashes. His straight nose led Remus’ eyes to Sirius’ elegant lips. Pale red, with a dramatic cupid’s bow and a full lower lip, they framed a perfect set of white teeth, which at this moment had the tip of Sirius’ tongue trapped in between them as he poured orange juice into his goblet. He glanced upwards, trapping Remus in the headlights of his green eyes. “Remus?” Sirius said quietly.

           “Sorry,” Remus forced his eyes down to the Daily Prophet, suddenly very interested in the sports news. There was some news about the England quidditch team looking at some fresh talent at a camp somewhere. Remus sighed. He had never understood quidditch. Remus chanced a glance upwards and found Sirius’ eyes still fixed on him, despite the fact that James was badgering him about homework. Sirius grabbed it from his bag and flung it unceremoniously towards James and Peter, who immediately began to copy it.

           “And make sure you change the wording, I don’t need another detention!” Sirius shot at them. They rolled their eyes and went back to work. “Moony,” Sirius said as he stretched his arms behind his head. “Want to stop by the library with me before potions? We’ve got another hour yet.” Their sixth-year schedules were empty compared to the last five years of back to back classes at Hogwarts.

           “Sure,” Remus said, folding the Daily Prophet and sliding it into his bag. Sirius muttered something to James, and the pair walked out of the Great Hall and were climbing the staircase towards the library when Sirius grabbed Remus by the arm and pulled him in a secret passageway concealed behind a tapestry. Before Remus could react, Sirius spun him around and pinned him against the wall with one strong hand. “Sirius-” Remus whispered. “We shouldn’t, not here, anyone could walk in.”

           “I don’t care,” Sirius growled. “And I’ve told James that Dorcas has left her cat in the common room again, so he and Peter will be occupied shaving the thing for the next hour. Don’t worry, no one’s coming.”

           “Sirius,” Remus sighed, dropping his bag on the floor and reaching out to brush Sirius’ hair out of his face. He knotted his fingers in the curls at the base of Sirius’ neck. Sirius tipped his head forward, brushing his nose along Remus’ jaw. “Sirius…”

           “Say it again,” Sirius whispered into Remus’ neck. He pressed closer to Remus, sliding his hand around the back of Remus’ neck and biting at his ear.

           “Sirius,” Remus growled, pushing Sirius’ robes off his shoulders and wrapping his hands around the back of Sirius’ neck. Sirius’ laugh was muffled by Remus’ neck between his lips. “Sirius, kiss me.”

           “I am,” Sirius whispered against Remus’ cheek. Remus pushed Sirius back, staring into his eyes.

           “I mean really kiss me.”

           “Fine,” Sirius smirked as he put his hands on the wall on either side of Remus’ head, boxing him in. He leaned forward and caught Remus’ lower lip between his teeth. It was torture for him, holding himself back when all he wanted was to take Remus, right then on the cold stone floor of the secret passageway.

           Remus, getting frustrated, closed the distance between Sirius’ lips, pulling Sirius against him by the hips. He slid his tongue along Sirius’ full bottom lip and felt Sirius moan in the back of his throat. “Remus,” Sirius gasped as Remus spun Sirius against the wall and mouthed his way to Sirius’ neck, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the hot, flushed skin. Sirius’ hand pushed through his own hair and grabbed Remus by the small of his back. Remus hummed happily against Sirius’ neck.

           Sirius pressed his hand against his own chest, sliding it down until he slid it into the front of his trousers, trying to control himself as Remus moaned loudly and pushed Sirius against the wall, hard. He slid his hands down Sirius’ sides and pulled his legs around his back.  Sirius gasped as Remus lifted him off the ground. Remus frantically unbuttoned Sirius’ shirt as Sirius twisted his hands into Remus’ pale brown hair. “Fuck,” Remus groaned, and Sirius smiled until he realized Remus was pulling away, gently setting him on the ground.

           “No, Remus, please,” Sirius said, pulling Remus to him again and kissing him.

           “I’m sorry, Sirius. I just remembered,” he glanced at his watch. “I have to go take my potion now.” He looked apologetically at Sirius, brushing his cheek with his fingertips. “Next time.”

Sirius caught Remus’ hand and kissed it gently. “How are you feeling?”

“Tired, irritable, and very horny,” Remus sighed, buttoning Sirius’ shirt and tightening his tie. He pressed a lingering kiss to Sirius’ soft lips and pulled both their robes around their shoulders. “How bad is my hair?” he asked.

           “Not the worst it’s been,” Sirius said, running his fingers through Remus’ hair to flatten the waves, which were already turning grey around the ears. He held Remus’ face between his hands, looking into the other boy’s eyes. “Really, Remus. Are you okay?”

           “It’s not the worst it’s been,” Remus smiled sadly and pulled Sirius to his chest. He rested his chin on the top of Sirius’ head, closing his eyes before reluctantly pulling away. “Shall we?” he smiled.

Hours later, Sirius flung himself into a plush armchair in front of the fire in the Gryffindor common room. He pushed his hands through his tangle of curly black hair. A cat Sirius had nicknamed Cotton Puff leapt onto his lap and curled up, purring. Sirius scratched gently under her chin and looked around the room. It was the last class block of the day, everyone except the sixth and seventh years were in class, but some sixth and seventh years still had class. James was taking his free period to practice on the quidditch pitch, Peter was in Divination, and Remus was studying in the library. Sirius never studied, yet still passed every test with flying colors. He reached into his bag and pulled out his wand. He ran his fingers over the runes etched into the wood and sighed.

It was December first, and in a few short weeks he would be going home with James. Although he adored the Potters, he hated Christmas. It just reminded him of all the years when he received next to no presents compared to his brother Regulus. He loved Reg, of course, but it was hard to love someone who was constantly doted on by your parents, it was hard to love someone when your mother repeatedly told you how much she preferred Regulus to you. How much of a disappointment you were.

And of course, Remus could not join them. The Potters had no idea about Remus’ affliction and were none too prepared to accommodate him during times when he might need help. He would write to Remus every day, but it wasn’t enough. He couldn’t be there for Remus when he was physically hurting and emotionally raw.

Cotton Puff stood, stretched, and bounded up the stairs to the girls’ dormitories. He had no idea whose cat she was, or if she was a girl at all. He was fond of her, and she him, which was his relationship with most cats. He found it ironic that they took such a liking to him, given that his alter ego was a gigantic black dog. He closed his eyes.

 Remus walked into the common room and crossed to the fireplace, where Sirius was slouched in his favorite chair, fast asleep. He sat in the seat across from Sirius and pulled his bag off his shoulder. He opened his copy of Advanced Potion Making and began reading, taking notes for his essay on the Draught of the Living Dead. Sirius opened his eyes, pushed his hair back, and smiled. “Remus,” he said, yawning. “That essay isn’t due for two weeks.”

“And I’d rather start it now than in a week when you and James bring a flagon of firewhisky into the dormitory and start celebrating Christmas,” Remus said with a small smirk. “And I encourage you to do the same, although we all know that you’ll end up copying mine at the last minute.”

“Why risk doing it myself when I know you’ll do it perfectly?” Sirius stretched and stood, crossing to Remus and squishing into the loveseat next to him. “Remus?” Remus turned to look at Sirius, closing his book. “I’m thinking of staying here this Christmas.”

“Why? The Potters love having you around their place,” Remus said, frowning.

“I know, I just don’t want to intrude on their family time and all that.”

“Sirius, don’t be ridiculous- “

“And I was wondering if you would stay, too,” Sirius flushed and turned away as Remus registered what Sirius had said.

“Sirius,” Remus began. “I’d love to. In fact, I’ve already made arrangements to do so.”

           Sirius turned back to Remus, shocked. “You have?”

           “My mum and dad are going skiing in Germany over break, and they asked if I would be okay staying here. Travelling won’t work well with the full moon scheduled right in the middle of the trip,” Remus smiled sadly. “And besides, I’m not coordinated enough to ski at all.”

           Sirius kissed Remus gently and smiled. “Okay, it’s settled. I’m staying.”