#it just smells looks nice and is wintery)

[dummerjan]

even in my thai shows and adjacent fanfiction i can't escape christmas

[blooming-violets]

Hii! Can I request a Joel miller x fem!reader where Abby goes to golf town on reader instead of Joel and Joel is in Ellie’s position watching her get killed. Just utter angst💔🥲thank youuu❤️

An Eye For An Eye || Joel Miller x fem!Reader

A/N: I meant to do this from Joel's pov but somehow ended up in Reader's pov. Enjoy some death! (Also threw in a little Glenn from the Walking Dead winkwinknodnod in there, too)

Fire rained down on the infected as the people surrounding them tossed molotovs over the wrought iron gate. 

The heat of the flames bathed over their skin to push the wintery chill from their bones. 

Joel could feel your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, clinging protectively onto him, as he slowed their horse next to Tommy’s. When your grip didn’t loosen to climb down, he gave your hand a gentle pat of encouragement.

“I don’t like this,” you whispered in his ear. There were too many people. More than you were anticipating. Large groups of strangers were never a good sign. 

His head tilted back towards you, his eyes closing peacefully at the feeling of your cold breath against his cheek, “You worry too much. We saved that woman’s life. It’s fine. We need a place to ride out the storm. Just behave yourself.”

You replied with a quiet laugh. Joel Miller was the king of worrying too much and the master of bad behavior. Who was he to tell you otherwise? 

“You’ve gone soft, grandpa. I blame Ellie,” A kiss was placed to his gray peppered beard before you jumped off the horse. There wasn’t even that big of an age gap between you two but you were still fond of the nickname, simply because it made Joel groan every time he heard it. 

Joel smiled, following you off the horse, “I blame you both. I only have this gray hair because of the shit you two put me through.” 

The moment the garage doors closed to block off the incoming swell of snow flurries, a weight of dread settled in your stomach. You ran a mittened hand over the hind haunches of your horse to wipe away some of the snow in an attempt to help soothe your unease. 

“Hey, I heard you guys saved Abby?” A short haired woman approached you with a warm, but hesitant, smile. “Thanks for bringing her back to us.” 

You looked over and did your best to flash her a smile of your own. Trust had to be built somehow. You might as well try to start here. 

“Oh, yeah. No problem.” You tugged off your mittens, stuffing them in your jacket pocket, and reached out your hand to shake.

“I’m Mel,” she spoke softly. “Nice to meet you.

You returned the greeting. She seemed nice enough. For now. First impressions meant nothing in this world. Everyone could act kind until they weren’t. You’d been fooled one too many times to take that sort of chance again. The moment she let go of the hand shake, she turned to Tommy to repeat her introductions. Your guard was on high alert, trying to take stock of anything you could use as makeshift weapons and plot the best hiding spots. 

Joel slipped his arm around your waist. He could sense your worry and pressed his lips against the side of your head, smelling your hair, as he spoke. 

“Don’t worry,” he mumbled into your hair. “Tommy and I got this covered. We’ll hang out for the night. We can take turns staying awake so someone’s always on watch. Then we’ll be gone in the morning after the storm.”

“That sounds like some famous last words,” you grumbled. 

The three of you were led into the room off of the garage. A large wooden bar sat against the wall and you took note of the half filled bottles of alcohol cluttering the surface. 

“Maybe it won’t be so bad afterall,” you nodded to the drinks, giving Joel a cheeky wink. 

He hid a smile by scratching at his beard and turning to the new people, “What are y’all doing out this way?” 

A man with a baseball cap answered, “Oh, just passing through. You three live nearby?”

Tommy took that as an invitation to invite them back home to restock their gear. As if you wanted these people anywhere near your family. 

It was clear neither party really trusted the other. There was a tension in the air as each individual tried to make sense of the other. Both parties were searching for hidden dangers. Your eyes sought out everyone, studying them, trying to find their strengths and weaknesses. It was Abby quietly conversing with another man in the corner that caused your heart rate to spike. You didn’t like the way they were whispering. From behind, you could tell her body language was tight, nervous. Your stare stayed trained on the pair as they whispered back and forth. Even as they stood quietly in the shadows, trying to appear relaxed, you could tell she was mulling over something in her head. 

Your hand found Joel’s and you gave it a small squeeze. You leaned in closer, standing on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear, “Maybe we’re better off risking it in the snow? We can find some place to stay that’s not here.” 

Before he could reply, Tommy was throwing around more introductions. 

“I’m Tommy,” he announced to the group. He was too calm for your liking. Too friendly. Something was wrong. This wasn’t right. They had to leave. “This is my brother…Joel. And this is his partner-”

You couldn’t hear his introduction of you. You were too busy watching the change in Abby. The entire room fell silent. Her shoulders tensed. Her jaw tightened, flexing subtly as she ground her teeth together. Her back straightened up to attention and she shifted the shotgun in her hands.

You knew it the second Joel did. 

This was bad. 

“Y’all act like you’ve heard of us or somethin’,” he muttered, trying in a last ditch effort to soothe out the peace. His arm instinctively pushed you protectively behind him just as gun shot rang out. 

“That’s because we have,” Abby said as the trigger was pulled. 

You let out a scream of terror, watching Joel yell in pain, his leg shooting out from under him, and tumbling to the ground. 

“Joel!” You collapsed down to his side, throwing your body protectively over his head to block him from any more bullets. 

“No!” Tommy shouted. 

Two men were on him before he could even move. They pinned his arms down, throwing him back against the bar, and struggled to hold him steady while he thrashed wildly against them. You couldn’t help him. You refused to leave Joel. All you could do was watch in horror as Tommy was bashed repeatedly in the top of the head with the grip of a pistol until he went limp. You had no idea if he was dead or knocked out. Thick lines of blood trailed out from under his hairline and waterfalled down his vacant face. 

You reached for the knife hidden in your back pocket. The second someone grabbed your arms, you slashed out, making contact with someone’s cheek. 

But there were too many of them and so little of you. 

The knife was wrestled out of your grasp. You were being dragged away from Joel with two men clamping down tightly to your arms and throwing you up against a window. The back of your head bounded against the glass pane causing a shooting pain to ricochet through your brain. 

“No!” You could hear Joel cry, his voice deep with worry. “Get off her! Don’t fucking touch her!”

He struggled to get up but his leg was useless under him. Blood spurted from his thigh and soaked into his tattered jeans. He tried to take down the person closest to him but all it took was a bullet whizzing by your left ear, instantly deafening that ear, and shattering through the window behind your head for him to stop. 

The howling wind burst through the broken, jagged hole to swirl snow around the room. The cold caught in your lungs, mixing with your panic, to make it difficult to breathe. You gasped for air, eyes watering, as you stared helplessly back at Joel. The look of anguish you found staring back at you was enough to break your heart. He knew you had been right. He knew he should have listened. They couldn’t trust these people. He knew. 

But it was too late. 

It took two men to pin his arms up against the back wall as if they were about to crucify him. His ragged, angry breaths filled the room to meld together with the howling wind. 

“Don’t hurt her,” he panted out with a hiss of pain. “Don’t hurt her. Me. Hurt me. Not her.” 

It was hard to hear him. You reached your hand up to cup over your left ear where the bullet had shot past. You could feel the stickiness of blood leaking from your burst eardrum. Subtly, you tilted your right ear towards him so you could better understand what they were saying. 

Abby had leaned down in front of him. She was breathing nearly as heavily as he was. Fury etched into her every crease and a burning hatred scalded Joel in her sights. 

“Joel Miller,” she whispered. Not asking. Not confirming. A statement.

“Who are you?” He shot back. 

“Guess.” 

Your eyes slipped close with dread. You knew Joel had no idea who this woman was. Joel’s past was filled with all colors of evil. She could have been anyone. It didn’t matter who she was or what Joel had done to her. Everything he’s ever done to survive, every horror, every act of ruthless murder would be flashing before his eyes right this very moment. He could pick any one out at random and it would be enough for someone to want revenge. He didn’t care who she was. She had her reasons and she was probably right for wanting his life. His past was bound to catch up to him eventually. He was just sad you had to be here to bear witness to his end.

The resignation you saw settle slowly onto his face was enough to push the tears stifled in your eyes down your cheeks. 

“Why don’t you say whatever speech you got rehearsed and get this over with,” he spat out at her with a scowl. “I’m the one you want. Neither of them ever did anything to you. They’re innocent and deserve to live. Kill me and be done with it.”

“No!” You cried, begging them for his life. “No! Please. Please. I need him. Please. Don’t do this.” 

Joel turned to your cries and gave you a half hearted smile. If they killed him, the one they were clearly looking for, then there was a chance that you could go free. If there was a chance to save you, he would take it. Always. 

Abby took notice of the look on his face when he stared back at you. She turned between the two of you and a dark smile grew across her face. She stood up, walking from Joel over to you. 

The move was all it took for Joel’s panic to immediately kick in, “Wait, stop! Leave her out of this! I’m the one you want!” 

Abby grabbed a fistful of your hair and jerked your head back to expose your neck. She leered back at Joel, “Do you love her?”

He tried to lunge forward to reach them but was held back by the men. The blood loss from his leg was making him weak. You could see the color paling from his face. His eyes were turning bloodshot. 

“Leave her alone!” He shouted, his voice coming out like a pained roar. “She didn’t do anything to you!”

Abby tossed your head back and walked over to the bag of golf clubs at your side. You watched her browse through each one before pulling out the one she wanted. She held it up to the light from the broken window to admire the view. 

“I said,” she whispered, the sound deadly. “Do you love her?”

A scream of rage ripped out from Joel’s throat, “Yes! Fuckin’ dammit, yes! I love her!”

A look of sorrow flashed across Abby’s face like she wasn’t entirely sure this was the plan she originally wanted to go through with. She down at you with regret, “Then I’m sorry to do this. It’s not your fault. But revenge is revenge. An eye for eye, if you will.” 

You swallowed, eyes widening as you stared at the end of the golf club, realizing exactly what was about to happen but being useless to stop it. 

You were not going to leave this cabin alive. 

“Joel Miller killed someone I loved,” she sighed. “I am going to kill someone he loves.” 

“No!” Joel screamed. From behind Abby, you could see him thrashing violently against the men. He caught one of their hands in his mouth and bit down as hard as he could, mauling his head to the side with a jerk, as the sound of snapping bones echoed through the freezing air. The man shouted in pain as his finger was nearly ripped straight from his hand thanks to the death grip Joel had with his teeth. 

Another gun shot rang out to silence everyone. This time it flew over Joel’s head and the bullet lodged into the back wall. 

“Enough!” Abby shouted. “Hold him down, dammit.”

“Then hurry up and get this over with!” The man standing at your shoulder yelled back. “Before he bites off more of Jordan’s fucking fingers.” 

The sound of your cracking skull was all you could hear as the club came straight down to make perfect contact with the top of your head. You hadn’t even seen her lift it over her to strike. You had been too busy trying to keep Joel in your sights.  

You slumped forward, falling onto your knees and holding yourself up with your arms. 

“Joel,” You mumbled through the delirium setting in. Your brain was rattled. Hot blood washed away your blurring vision until all you could see was red. “Joel…stay…me…with me…stay…”  

Wack. 

Crunch. 

Wack. 

Splash. 

Your breath strained in heaving, gasping wails as your brain function rapidly declined. Blood showered down around you, seemingly falling from the sky like rain drops on a dreary evening. It reminded you of the way rain clings to the leaves to roll down their waxy surface and drip in warm drops down onto your forehead. A pleasant, familiar feeling. If you looked skywards, you wouldn’t see a ceiling, but a forest canopy of wet, green leaves. 

Your arms shook under your weight to hold you up and pushed you back into a kneeling position. Your body swayed on unsteady legs, unable to focus on any one particular part of the room. The socket of your eye had been shattered. Your eye bulged in your head and hung loosely out of your skull. 

You remembered the first time you found Joel. Over a decade ago. Smuggling supplies back and forth into the Boston quarantine zone. He had hated you. Thought you were annoying and never shut up. You’d pester him with a million questions, desperate to learn all his survival techniques. Somehow he never managed to shake you from his gasp. At some point along the way, you had weaseled your way into his hardened exterior and made a home inside his heart. He could complain all he wanted. He enjoyed your company.

Crack.

Your body gave out. You slumped onto your side. 

From this position you could make out the hazy vision of Joel through your one working eye. There were tears streaming down his face. You’d never really seen him cry before. Not like this. His mouth hung open in a scream but you could no longer hear what was being said. You didn’t need to hear to know he was wailing out in agony for you. This was the kind of torture being inflicted on him that was meant to destroy his soul. This was worse than his own death. This was going to break him. 

Oh, Joel. 

He was on his stomach, arm outstretched, desperately trying to reach you. 

You remembered the late nights of sitting around a campfire, with a cup of stale, weak coffee shared between you two, out in the woods. Joel always hated campfires at night. They were dangerous, easy to be seen, but you had convinced him to give it a try just this once. Just long enough to heat up your coffee. The coffee had tasted watery and bitter but his lips tasted sweet and soft. The risk of the fire was worth watching the way the warm orange glow danced across his skin. 

Your fingers twitched out to reach for him. 

If only you could touch him. 

One last time. 

You stretched your arm as far as you could. 

Crack. 

You were reaching blindly. Both your eyes are gone now. No sounds. No sights. No pain. Only Joel.  

In the darkness, you reached for him. 

His calloused tipped fingers brushed across your bloody hand. He was only close enough for your fingertips to reach but they laced together the best you were able. 

A smile flashed onto your dying lips. 

Crack. 

You didn’t need to see him to know him. 

His face exploded behind your blinded vision to greet you in the dark. Always sweaty and covered in dirt. Salt and peppered hair. Eyebrows tugged low in a permanent frown. The slope of his strong nose. Pouted lips peeking out from under his unkempt beard. The frown lines etched into his forehead that would soften whenever he caught sight of you. The warmth of his arms wrapped tightly around your body to keep you safe from the chilly nights. 

His quiet whispers of “I love you” spoke into your ear when he thought you were sleeping. 

He hardly ever said those words out loud to you when you were awake but he never had to. You could see his love through his every action. 

Even now. 

His last act of love he could ever give you was to fight against his restraints and reach far enough for his fingers to graze yours. So you knew you weren’t alone. So he could keep as safe as he was physically able to. 

So he could touch you one last time. 

I love you, Joel Miller. 

Crack.

This was fun a little side step away from my usual beloved Andrew Garfield muse. I don't think I'll write for Joel much in the future. Not because I don't adore him but because I just write for a different fandom and struggle to do both at the same time. But I enjoyed a little peek into some Joel angst for my Sunday afternoon.

[neege]

Das don't get crushes!

A little small something inspired by the snippet I just added to this post.

A universe in which Sirius and Remus are amicable exes turned friends that have a kid together, and James and Sirius are dating.

Also, @lilacella this is for you! Since you started this whole thing ❤️

Hogsmead was a dream this time of year. James closed his eyes softly and let the gentle sounds of the holiday festivities caress his ears. He could just make out the giggles from Lily and Teddy, who were crafting a snowman, and he listened to the sound of the carolers and the little jingling bells that lined the shop doors. He felt tiny snowflakes rest against his cheeks and nose, and breathed in the fresh air and smell of spiced treats being sold by merry vendors.

"You look happy." James shivered at the feeling of Sirius's deep voice pressed against his ear, and smiled as a strong arm came to rest around his waist.

He hummed as a kiss was pressed to his jaw, and opened his eyes to the breathtaking sight of Sirius—with his long dark hair dusted with glittering snow and his steel grey eyes filled with warmth. "I am happy."

They both stood pressed together for a moment, taking in the wintery, cheerful scene surrounding them. It was a week out from Christmas, and Lily had decided that they all needed to get together to go ice skating in the little village. Currently, she was dusting the snow off of her firey hair, laughing loudly as Teddy ran off cackling. Out of the corner of his eye, James could see Sirius watching his son fondly, and his own heart glowed at the sight.

Remus wandered back over from where he had been purchasing himself and Teddy hot chocolates, and at the sight of his friend—red-nosed and absolutely drowning in wool from his hat, scarf, and mittens—James laughed a little. "Having fun Remus?"

He smiled over at the pair of them with a bit of whipped cream on his upper lip. Sirius reached out to swipe it away with his thumb, and was swatted away with a fake scowl from Remus.

There was a point not too long ago where the sight of Sirius and Remus being so comfortable with each other would have made James feel uncertain of his developing relationship with his partner, but after much reassurance from the both of them, he felt grateful that they were able to remain such close friends. Besides, without Remus and Sirius's past relationship, there wouldn't be Teddy, and James loves Teddy.

As if on que, Teddy came running over—Lily trailing at a slower pace behind him—barreling straight into Sirius, who pretended to have the wind knocked out of him before hoisting the boy up onto his hip. "Hey kiddo! Did you have fun with Aunt Lily?"

"Yeah! We made a snowman and Aunt Lily used magic to make him move! I wanted him to throw snowballs but Aunt Lily said that's not very nice!"

Teddy squirmed in Sirius's arms while trying to talk around Remus, fussing over his hat and scarf before handing over the hot chocolate that had been cooling down a bit.

"Yes, well Aunt Lily's very smart, and you should always listen to her Teds, okay?"

"Okay! Did you see me get Aunt Lily with a snowball? I got her right on the head!"

Teddy continued to chatter his dads' ears off while James turned to face Lily.

"Snowball to the face huh?"

She smiled, the red splotches on her face—no doubt from the cold snow—making her look warm and happy.

"He's such a sweet kid. I don't know, maybe you should've knocked me up when we were still together."

"You're kidding, right?" James smiled at her, "I mean no offense at all, but can you imagine us as teen parents?"

She laughed brightly, "Yeah I know. I don't actually know if I ever want kids of my own, honestly. It's enough to whisk Teddy away whenever I'm feeling lonely, but by day three I'm already ready to dump him back with one of you suckers." James laughed.

Suddenly, Lily's eyes widened at something over his shoulder, and he turned around to spot an uncharacteristically flushed Remus being approached by a tall, handsome man wearing a deep maroon peacoat.

"Remus! It's good to see you out and about and not hunched over your work for a change. What are you doing here?"

James watched with interest as Remus straightened up a bit and blinked rapidly up at the man in front of him. He noticed that there was a bit more whipped cream on his lip and had to stifle his laugh.

"Oh! Kingsley! Hi, um, good to see you!"

James, Lily, and Sirius all exchanged subtle glances with each other.

"Um. I'm here with my friends!" He turned awkwardly to the rest of the group, "This is Sirius and Sirius's partner James, and this is Lily."

Sirius motioned to his own lip while Kingsley turned away, and Remus's flushed cheeks intensified as he hastily wiped at his mouth.

Kingsley smiled at the group, shaking each of their hands, "Nice to meet you. Remus and I work together at the ministry, but I almost never see him anywhere except his office."

He looked down at Teddy, who was still being held in Sirius's arms, bending his knees so he was eye-to-eye with him, "And who's this handsome fellow?"

"I'm Teddy! I'm 4!"

Sirius smiled down at his son, "Ah yes, this is Edward, but we call him Teddy for short, he's mine and Remus's little one," and at Kingsley's raised eyebrows, he added on "and the result of one too many firewhiskeys way back when."

Remus's face went Scarlett as Kingsley laughed, and James pinched Sirius's side as a warning to be nice.

"Well, it was really nice meeting you all! Maybe I'll see you on the rink in a little while, I'll be with my sister and niece if Teddy wants a friend. Take care, bye Re! I'll see you Monday yeah?"

Re?

"Yeah! Of course, yeah, bye... Have fun!"

As Kingsley walked away Remus immediately turned and hissed at a laughing Sirius: "What the fuck is wrong with you!"

Teddy's eyes went wide at the expletive, and before he could speak, Remus corrected himself.

"I'm sorry Teds, that's a naughty word, and I shouldn't have said it, just like your father shouldn't have embarrassed me like that in front of my coworker!"

"Oh, coworker huh? That's why you're so flustered? Because you're trying to stay professional?"

Remus sniffed at that. "Yes! As a matter of fact, that man is my supervisor! I don't need him knowing about... my private life!"

James snorted, and Lily cut in, "Yeah right, that man is the sexiest man I've ever seen Remus, and if you don't climb him like a tree, I might-"

"Lily! Oh my god, there's kids! Teds, why don't you go play with Aunt Lily again, keep your mittens on this time, okay?"

And then a cackling Lily was being sent off again, followed by giggles from the remaining two men.

James and Sirius linked their free hands together, and Remus turned to look at them both, a blush staining his cheeks and unable to look them in the eyes.

"Christ, can you believe her?" The couple exchanged a look. "What?"

"Oh come on Remus, you totally like him!" Before Remus could counter, Sirius cut in "You're red as a tomato, and I haven't seen you that flustered since the night you got knocked up."

Remus crossed his arms. He had a pouty look on his face and looked about one second from stomping off—James chose his next words carefully.

"Look mate, I know you love the life you've built and that you want to be a good Da, but there's nothing wrong with a little crush okay? Did you think Sirius was a bad dad when he and I started seeing each other?"

He felt Sirius squeeze his hand.

Remus's eyes softened a little, "No, of course not."

He bit his lip, and continued. "But it's different! You guys have known each other for years and years, you're best friends, and Teddy grew up around you James! I can't just... uproot Teddy's life because of... I don't know. And besides, Kingsley wouldn't be interested in me like that, I mean he's so handsome and intelligent... I don't know."

Sirius sighed. "Remus, you know I care about you. You know I love you, me and James and Lily, we all love you so much. And I don't have to be dating you to know that you're incredible and intelligent and damn handsome."

Remus blushed and gave him a small smile, looking down at his feet.

"But I care about you. You're a great father. The best, better than me at times-" "That's not true-" "-okay equal to me. Teddy loves you, he's so happy and he'll grow up surrounded by people who love him, and that's because of you. But sometimes you use Teddy as a reason to not put yourself out there. You deserve to be happy too Remus."

James placed a hand on Remus's forearm, "And this doesn't have to be forever you know? Teddy will be perfectly fine if you go out with Kingsley for a while and it doesn't work out. Like Sirius said, you deserve to be happy. Or at least, you deserve to get laid. And that man is fucking hot, did you see his thighs? Jesus Christ he's wearing a peacoat and I can still tell he's fit as hell."

Sirius laughed, and Remus huffed a little, turning away from them for a moment before speaking again.

"You really think he'd like me?"

"Yes, but you never know if you don't try. Just go talk to him yeah? Ice skate near him or something. Fall into his big strong arms like the princess everyone knows you are."

He met their eyes with an amused, shy smile—then moved his eyes towards the direction Kingsley had just gone. "Okay. I'll try."

-----

"Alright Teddy bear, let's get you warmed up okay? Your hands are like ice cubes." Sirius held the sleepy little boy in his lap, rubbing his small hands together between his larger ones to get the blood flowing.

"Dad, did you see me? Aunt Lily was helping me skate, and I went in a circle! I even fell only one time!"

"Yeah Teds, you were great!"

They sat together for a moment, a rare, quiet moment where Teddy wasn't bouncing off the walls with excitement. James sat at Sirius's side, his head resting on his shoulder and his hands wrapped around their hot drinks: a hot chocolate for James and a black coffee for Sirius. The two men looked out over the ice rink—sharing twin smiles of delight as they observed their pink-cheeked friend skate clumsily next Kingsley.

"Think he'll be alright out there?" James asked Sirius.

Just then, Remus lost his balance and flailed awkwardly for a moment before falling backwards, only be to caught by strong, graceful arms. James could hear the laughter from where they sat, and the fondness in Sirius's voice when he replied, "Oh yeah, he'll be great. We'll take Teds home with us just to be safe."

As if summoned by his own name, Teddy sleepily blinked across the rink at his blushing father.

"What's wrong with Da?"

James leaned down to look at Teddy's big brown eyes—looking so much like Remus.

"Well Teddy, I think your Da has a little crush."

Teddy pulled a face, like he'd just tasted his least favorite food, before declaring loudly:

"Ew! Das don't get crushes!"

[rose-of-the-grave]

Yule Ball

Pairing: Harry x Hermione

This is a combination of these two requests. Sorry it's kinda short. I hope you enjoy it! I'm the author (please don't repost ♥️)

Masterlist. Read on Ao3

Warnings: fluff, dancing, idk

Word Count: 494

Taglist: @sylveryfire

Description: The Yule Ball, if Harry had gone with Hermione.

It was a night full of excitement and nerves as the sky darkened over the snow covered castle. The Great Hall was decorated fitting the wintery theme and students were gathering around, waiting for the dancing to start.

Meanwhile Harry was waiting at the base of the stairs, waiting for Hermione. He kept on fidgeting with his dress robes, nervous. When he had asked her last minute to be his date to the Yule Ball he had expected her to say no. She hadn’t. Instead she smiled and said yes. Harry had been so relieved after having been rushing around trying to find a date along with Ron. His best friend had managed to ask Padma Patil who had thankfully said yes. The two of them were now waiting in the Great Hall with everybody else.

“Is that Hermione?” He heard someone ask. Turning around he saw Hermione standing at the top of the staircase. She looked beautiful in her blue dress, walking down the stairs slowly, a nervous expression on her face. They locked eyes and she smiled, meeting his gaze. He met her at the bottom of the stairs.

“You look nice.” He said.

“Nice?” She asked, arching an eyebrow teasingly.

He blushed, “Beautiful.”

She raised a hand, playfully ruffling his hair.

He shook her off, a little disappointed because it had taken him hours to tame his unruly hair.

“I hate you, ‘mione.” He said playfully, still smiling at her.

She giggled. “No you don’t.”

“Yes, I do.” He insisted, laughing.

Hermione pulled him in for a tight hug, “No you don’t.”

“No, I don’t,” Harry admitted. He hugged her back, wrapping his arms around her shoulders. Her hair, not nearly as bushy as usual, tickled his nose a bit. She smelled nice, he noticed. He’d never really thought about what she might smell like but somehow, she smelled exactly like he expected. For a second he forgot where they were and simply sunk into her embrace.

Far too soon they had to pull apart when the rest of the champions started to line up in front of the doors. All of a sudden Harry became nervous again, worrying about having to dance in front of everyone. Hermione slipped her hand in his, squeezing gently to reassure him.

He glanced over at her and remembered that he had no reason to be worried. Hermione had probably been paying closer attention to the dancing lesson than he had and had probably already mastered it.

They walked into the Great Hall side by side along with the rest of the champions and their dates onto the dance floor. Once they all got into position, the music started up and they started to dance. For a while it felt as if the whole room disappeared and it was just the two of them accompanied by the music, dancing off into the winter wonderland. It was a magical night that they would both remember forever.

[hiddenbeks]

oc questions tag

tagged by @hibernationsuit !! thank youuuu 💜

tagging @rosykims @aevallare @abetterbeginning @gortash @wrenanigans if u want to do this, no pressure! don't remember who's done this recently so i'm sorry if ur getting spammed with this bc of me hehe

anyway it's celyn time babey.. been thinking abt her a lot lately <3

name: celyn surana

nickname(s): uhhh. cel? i gotta think of some cute descriptive nicknames for her that others would teasingly use but i'm drawing a blank rn. will have to ruminate more.

she only lets Very Close Friends call her by any nickname btw. jowan (being her only friend lol) was the only person in the circle who got to call her cel. only andrale and carver have earned this privilege since (andrale only ever calls her celyn tho). leliana earns it as well ten years later during inquisition lol

gender: cis female

star sign: uhhh she was born on the 27th of firstfall which is the thedas equivalent of november sooo sagittarius??

height: 159 cm. my second shortest oc and the same height as me hehe <3

orientation: bisexual!

nationality: fereldan i guess. she was born in ferelden and raised in ferelden's circle of magi but she doesn't have a strong Fereldan Identity. she's not celyn from ferelden she's just... celyn...

favorite fruit: uuuhh apples

favorite season: i'm tempted to say winter bc her aesthetic is so cold and wintery but i think she would prefer a warmer season. maybe mid to late fall actually. she enjoys the gloom and fall colors and the rainy and stormy weather

favorite flower: i wonder if she's ever even seen a live plant actually. i wonder if there are any indoor greenhouses in the circle. wow i'm suddenly making myself sad thinking abt how she's barely seen any nature in her 19 years of life. anyway uhhh!!! gentians are her favorite actually look at how pretty they are

favorite scent: ghghjgh i struggle with any scent or smell related questions bc i have anosmia so idk what things smell like lmao. let's say uhhh whatever a spruce forest smells like. nice n fresh i imagine

coffee, tea or hot chocolate: she's a coffee gal... had to check if coffee exists in thedas and apparently it does and is a major export of antiva. fascinating. anyway she drinks coffee to stay awake late at night reading and studying (forbidden) magic. she enjoys the silence of the night and is at her most productive during that time

average hours of sleep: during her time in the circle i guess it was like... 5-6 maybe? as i said she tends to stay up late and i bet circle inhabitants are expected to wake up crazy early like 6am or sth. it doesn't get any better after leaving the circle bc andrale also expects everyone to get up and moving crazy early. and after officially becoming a warden it gets even worse when she starts having Warden Nightmares ahah

dog or cat person: cat person! she's a bit like morrigan when it comes to dogs. thinks they're stupid n gross lol. though she does eventually warm up to the dog (named assan by andrale <3) in dao.

dream trip: honestly anywhere is fine she is full of wanderlust... what living in a tower for 19 years does to a gal... the whole blight adventure is a dream trip to her i bet. yes she has to fight darkspawn and a horrible death is around every corner but consider: she gets to see ancient elven ruins and denerim and orzammar... so many sights to see and so many new experiences! she feels so alive! and she gets to use her powers to their full extent!! she gets to hone her skills beyond what the circle allowed!!! not that the circle's rules stopped her from studying outlawed magic in secret but like. now she doesn't have to do it in secret anymore.

a trip to tevinter would also be interesting from a purely academic standpoint. nevarra as well because it's more liberal with magic than most of thedas but also safer for her than tevinter? so basically she would like to see the whole world but especially places where she gets to expand her knowledge on magic...

favorite fictional character: in a real world au her favorite fictional character would be morgana pendragon from bbc merlin. this is not at all influenced by the fact that one of my inspirations for her was morgana pendragon from bbc merlin,

number of blankets they sleep with: hmmmm one

random fact: i'm sharing two random facts bc i can't decide which one of these is more interesting or whatev:

celyn is basically the toph to andrale's katara. they have somewhat clashing personalities and differing views on teamwork and the sharing of camp chores... andrale expects everyone to contribute while celyn only looks after herself. also despite her excitement she's kinda terrified to be out in the real world but she won't let it show!! so she acts hyper-independent!!! unfortunately for her andrale can see right through this facade and she calls celyn out on it (she tries to be gentle and constructive about it but she's had it with celyn's shit and fails). so. yea. my point is they argue a lot at first lol! but they become great friends once celyn learns teamwork and communication and andrale loosens up a little

whenever she does fire magic she makes the flames hot enough for them to turn blue, purely for the aesthetic. she also enjoys other ways of showing off with her magic and she was Very competitive in the circle. she simply had to be the best in her class and let the other students know that she was above them. most of her fellow students could not stand her because of this <3

[princesspuffle8]

The Boy Born from an Obsession: Tom Riddle One shot

Trigger warnings ahead: mentions of Su!c!d3, self depreciating talk, abandonment, mentions of SA, mentions of abuse, overall dark tones

London, England

December 1926

The crunching of the snow sounded so distant under my feet as I made my way toward the hospital. The contractions weren't very strong but the healer in St Mungo’s said it was best to rest before the birth, but if I rested and didn't get back to the city how would he know where I was? I had to see him again, I know he’s waiting for me… waiting for our baby… so a muggle hospital would be the place he’d be right? As that thought formulated in my mind, a new wave of pain hit my aching body and I was barely able to catch myself on the cold frigid brick wall next to me. A contraction? Why now?! 

“Hold on baby… please… we’re almost to where your father will be,” I begged as I put pressure on my bulging stomach with my hand as I resumed my march through the snow with renewed vigor, ignoring the nagging voice in the back of my mind that whispered that he had left us before and that he would abandon us again. Focusing on the contraction and the pain, I surged forward until I reached the hospital steps, legs shaking beneath me. I had made it. Just a couple more steps to Tom, my beloved, just a few more agonizing steps. 

At the landing, a nice young gentleman with light auburn hair and stunning hazel eyes opened the door for me. Gently ushering me inside while jovially chastising me for not wearing warmer clothes this winter, even though this was all I had. Pursing my lips into a thin smile and willing myself not to cry, I gave him a curt thanks and dusted the snow off myself. Who did he think he was! He didn't know me! I wasn’t a charity case that had come on hard times, I was a Riddle! I was a wealthy wife… 

“Who’s husband left her because she’s filthy and worthless,” the nasty voice in head reminded me as I made my way to the front desk where the reception nurse was sitting smoking a cigarette. Her sultry green eyes and wild red hair contrasted greatly with mine as I rustled a couple strands of my dirty greasy blonde hair between my fingers, waiting for her to acknowledge my presence. 

“State your name and purpose, ma’am,” she exhaled a puff of smoke in my face causing, the putrid smell to fill my lungs and sting my eyes, a deadly combo. Bare with it, Merope, it’s all for seeing him again.

“I’m pregnant ma’am and very close to do. I was wondering if I can give birth here and call my husband,” I asked my voice coming off more timid than I’d hope. Why was I asking her if I could give birth here? This was a hospital wasn't it? Surely they couldn't turn me away…

A moment passed and another puff of smoke was exhaled into my face as the lady eyed me up and down for what felt like eternity before she put out her cigarette and leaned across her desk, red lipstick stained lips glistening against the wintery morning light, as she gave me a pitiful look. “Look darlin I’m going to be straight with you, I don't think you can give birth here,” she stated as my stomach dropped. 

“What do you mean I can’t give birth here,” I nearly yelled attracting the unwanted attention of nosy patients and nurses alike as the green eyed woman shot me a look as if she was scolding a small child. I shrank into myself and clutched my stomach for support, the kicking of the unborn child inside me smoothed my screaming thoughts.

“I’m not trying to be mean ma’am, however it doesn't look like you can pay to see the doctor much less room and board or any treatment for that matter.”

“But but this is a hospital,” I mumbled as that feeling of embarrassment and naïveté were beginning to swell up and constrict around the heart in my chest. This was just like all those times back in the village where the shopkeepers wouldn't let us have food or some basic magical items because we were poor. 

“Yes, this is a hospital but these things cost money darlin,” the red headed nurse sighed as she sat back down in her chair and leaned back into a slouching position. I watched as she fished out her cigarette cartridge from inside her breast pocket along with a matchbook, swiftly and eloquently made quick work getting out a new cigarette and lighting it. I wasn't as eloquent as her, I could never be as eloquent as she was, the thought ran across my mind as I became very aware of how out of place I was at this hospital wearing a raggedy dress with patches sowed in where the seams had ripped and gave out. My stockings had holes in them and my boots were worn and scuffed. My jacket was from some male I pawned off of and was way too big for my frame, I had no scarf and what you could call gloves on my hands didn't even protect my fingers from the harsh winter weather. Compared to the eloquence of the nurse and other patients of this hospital who were very well dressed, I looked like a rat who had managed to scurry her way into a palace. 

For a moment, I felt as if the floor had been swiped out from underneath me as a new wave of pain hit me once again, another contraction. Gripping the countertop, I tried to focus on something that would distract me from the pain. Something, anything to district from this ungodly pain…

“Is that a telephone perchance,” I asked as I exhaled a breath and looked at her with pleading eyes, the ringing of the phone had just stopped and it brought back one of the happiest memories I had, my wedding day at Tom’s family’s manor where they had such sophisticated muggle appliances such as a telephone. I have never seen one in my life before and was fascinated by the appliance which Tom taught me how to use. Oh my love, Tom… how I wish you were here to tell them all to bugger off and hold me while I endured this pain for our child. 

“It is. Why,” the nurse asked as she exhaled another puff of smoke lazily. 

“May I make a phone call to my husband? He can pay for everything I swear. His name is Tom, Tom Riddle. If I could just call him he’ll be over and pay for my expenses and I can give birth here,” I pleaded with her as my voice cracked in desperation. Why wasn't he here? He was supposed to be here! 

“Your husband,” the nurse drawled suspiciously as she quirked an eyebrow at me as if I was lying. 

“Yes my husband, call him,” I snapped at her, feeling a bit irate at the moment. This stupid muggle twat, how dare she question that I was married to Tom. How dare she question our love! I was with his child after all, he married me not her. He wanted me! 

“Alright, I’ll call him,” the nurse sighed as she got up from her seat and headed to the phone located in the hallway. I watched as she stayed on the phone for awhile, talking to whomever was on the other end before she trotted back my way, her heels clicking against the tile floor before she sat down in front of me, taking another long drawl of her cigarette before looking directly at me.

“Well,” I demanded, a surge of confidence flooding through me knowing that my husband would come to my rescue. 

“I was able to contact a Tom Riddle…”

“See! I told you! Now if you would just admit me into the hos…”

“And the man on the other side said that he didn't know you. He said that and I quote, “I wont give that whore a cent! Not one bloody cent. She can bleed to death after giving birth for all I care. Don't contact me again,” the nurse stated as something within me shattered, her words seemed so far and distant. 

“You’re lying! Tom loves me. He loves me so why would he say such horrible things. That’s not the Tom I know… the Tom I know is loving, affectionate, protective, he cared about me when no one else did! I’m his wife! I gave my everything to him. I have his child! You’re lyingI You’re lying! Call him again! Call him! He’s mine… my husband! We love each other,” I screamed at her as tears streamed down my face and I clutched my stomach in distress. Suddenly the baby’s kicks were no longer comforting and soothing reminders of what I had created with Tom. Suddenly the were painful and horrible reminders that he had left me. 

“Ma’am, I need you to calm down…”

“Stopping the amortencia was a mistake. It was a mistake! Why isn't he here! I need him here,” I was panicking now as the pain from the contraction dulled and the movement of the fetus within me made me want to lurch. I wanted it out. If it hadn't been for this… this thing I would have never stopped giving Tom amortencia! He would still be mine. We would still be happy.

“I don't know what you’re talking about ma’am but I think you need to go,” the nurse implored as she put out her cigarette and gave me a sharp look as she stood up from her seat in an intimidating manner. What kind of nurse was she?! Wasn't she supposed to help sick or injured people? 

“Go? Go where? Can’t you see I’m pregnant! Where else can I go to give birth,” I wailed as more tears I didn't know I had began to stream down my face, blurring out the image of a tall blonde man who came up next to the nurse and put a hand on her shoulder, easing her back into her seat. 

“Dr. Jacobson, are you done with your shift,” the nurse asked a bit stunned at the man but complied to his gesture nonetheless and sat back down into her chair.

“More or less. I heard a bit of commotion out here and I’ve come to investigate. Is everything alright ma’am,” he asked me as he pulled a handkerchief from his breast pocket and handed it to me allowing myself to clean my face up a bit.

“No. Its not alright! I’m pregnant and she said I cant give birth here! This is a hospital isn’t it! Why cant I give birth here,” I wailed to him, watching his slight bewildered look on his face before he looked over to the nurse who huffed in an annoyed manner.

“I told her that she needed money to pay for the facilities and obviously she’s lying about her husband being willing to pay for anything. I just contacted him sir, this woman is… delusional,” the nurse said the last word under her breath but it was loud enough for me to catch it. 

“I’m not insane,” I yelled as I resisted the urge to hex her and instead fingered my wand as it sat in the inner depths of my front pocket. Oh how I would like to give her a good taste of my magic. 

“I’ll handle this Deborah. What was your name Miss,” the blonde man asked as he flashed a smile and put his hand on my shoulder, gently guiding my away from the front desk and towards the hospital doors. In that moment I panicked as I dug my heels into the ground and resisted his gentle tugs, they were gonna kick me out and let me give birth on the streets like some animal. The thought elicited a new amount of sobs that spilled from the back of my throat and resounded into the hospital foyer. 

“How can you people do this! Its the middle of winter! My child will die if it’s born in the streets,” I frantically yelled to the man. If this unborn thing died, Tom would never forgive me. It’s his heir after all. 

“No one said you will have to give birth on the streets, miss. I will personally drive you to a place where you can give birth comfortably and they wont charge you anything either. If you’ll just tell me your name miss,” he asked once more his bright calming blue eyes reflecting into my dull gray ones as I bit my bottom lip and contemplated my options. I couldn’t give birth here, that prissy bitch of a nurse had made it evident that I was not welcome here and I cant give birth at St. Mungo’s for my father and brother would potentially find out even though they were locked away in Azkaban. I was out of options, and this man seemed like a kind gent, much like my Tom. 

“Merope. Merope Riddle,” I choked out as I followed him out of the hospital and he guided me to his car sitting in a parking area outside of the facility. He was a gentleman through and through as he opened the door for me and helped guide me into the seat since it was hard to sit down with the baby dancing inside my womb.

“Trust me Mrs. Riddle, you and your baby will be… safe. I can’t say its the most comfortable of places, that would be lying on my part but at least you’ll be out of the cold,” he comforted me as we both sat in the vehicle and he drove away from the hospital towards Merlin knows where. We passed multiple buildings and parks covered in snow, until we reached the less populated outskirts of London. There were a few apartments about this area, I recognized them as Tom had pointed them out on our honeymoon that these were where poor factory workers lived and laughed at the run down conditions. What I would give to live in one of those right now with Tom at my side instead of this blonde physician. Passing the apartments, the car lurched to a halt in front of a very large gated manor. The outside of the building was a dingy rust colored mansion with multiple vines creeping up the front of the building. There were various windows about the building and in some of them I could see the ashen faces of children who were inside the building on the other side of the glass. 

“We’re here,” Dr Jacobson said giving my hand what I suppose was meant to be an encouraging squeeze but to me, I could feel the bile of disdain travel up into my throat. Did he think I couldn't read? The black gate in front of the building spelled out a place that I had been dreading to see for months, an orphanage. 

“Is there truly no other place,” I inquired as I let him help me out of the car once more, my tears all but forgotten as we both headed to the gate and gently pushed the iron bars open. 

“This is the best I can do, Mrs. Riddle.”

“I see. Thank you for your kindness,” I muttered despondently. How could I have even hoped for better. There was no room in this world for the weak and poor, not in the muggle community or the magical one. My father and brother taught that to me well, if only I had listened and not hoped. 

I let the doctor knock on the giant doors that lead to the inside of the manor. It took a moment but the doors soon opened and we were greeted by an elder woman dressed in a black cotton dress with messy brown hair done up into a bun and stern brown eyes. She took one glance at me and then gave the doctor a brief look before sighing and moving out of the doorway, granting us access to the hallway within. 

“Please come in,” she said, her voice sounded a bit hoarse but I paid no attention to it or tried my best not to.

“Its good to see you again, Lady Tilda,” the doctor said as he took off his hat and gave a rather informal bow to the brunette older woman who just sighed. 

“I take it she needs a free place to spend the night and give birth correct,” Lady Tilda directed her statement at me as I nodded my head yes and followed her as she began moving out of the entrance hall and down one of the many corridors in the building. 

“Yes. May I give birth here,” I poised the question as we entered a room with cots lining the inside of it and some old medical equipment sitting on a tray in a cart that was situated in the middle of the room. Silently, the older woman motioned for me to come sit at a cot which I gratefully took. I was tired and my feet hurt. 

“I will send for a nurse to look after you in a moment. Make yourself comfortable, you may be here for awhile,” the elderly woman said as her and the doctor left the room and I never saw either of them again. Staring blankly at the doorway, I waited for anyone to enter the room and clung to the hope that my darling Tom would show up in the doorway and soothe me. Telling me that everything was going to be alright and whisk me away from this dreary place. Only that did not happen and instead a smaller petite built woman entered through the doorway, wearing a similar dress as Lady Tilda. The only difference was she was younger and she had very visible freckles covering her pale face.

“You must be Mrs. Riddle. Its a pleasure to meet you. I’ll be your nurse and midwife, my name is Bethany Birchwood but you may call me Bethany or Beth like the children do,” the younger woman introduced herself as she held out her hand for me to shake which I did so reluctantly, disappointed in the fact that it wasn't Tom who had walked through those doors.

“You can just call me Merope,” I told her, refusing to meet her gaze. I didn't want to hear his last name, a name that brought me so much joy being married into was killing me on the inside. 

“Alright, Merope it is. Would you like some tea to warm you up? Or how about some nice warm broth? Its not much but it’ll be helpful for you to eat something and regain a bit of your strength for when the baby is born,” she asked as she gently took both of my frail hands into hers and began to rub warmth back into them, a kind gesture that brought tears to my eyes as I nodded allowing her to let go of my hands and scurry off into some other part of the orphanage. She’s such a nice girl. Tom would’ve liked her. We could’ve hired her to be my midwife at his parents house. I wonder what he’s doing now, does he know his child is about to be born anytime now? I wondered as I fingered the hilt of my wand in my pocket. 

I didn't know many spells since father nor brother thought I was worthy of learning any, but I was able to learn a few of them from my mothers old spell book. One flick of my wand and I could see Tom and tell him about the soon to be birth. Just one flick and I know he would come running back, or at least I hope he would. Would he even make it in time to see me before the ministry did? Tom was a muggle, he shouldn't know about magic let alone have known about amortencia. If they find out we will never be together again, I panicked and my breathe hitched in my throat and tears welled back up in my eyes. Just in time for me to see the blurry figure of Bethany enter the room and quickly set down the tray on the bedside tabletop before sitting down on the cot besides me.

“Don’t cry love, shhhhh everything is gonna be fine,” She soothed me as she held me in her arms and rubbed comforting circles on my back while rocking back and forth like a mother would do for her child, like my mother did for me all those years ago. 

“Do you think you can eat a bit love,” she asked me after a couple minutes as she directed to the food that she had brought in for me to eat.

“Yes. I can eat,” i told her, feeling a bit famished as I looked at the stale piece of bread and potato soup with broth. It wasn't much but it would have to do. Reaching over to the tray of food, I began scarfing it down with what little energy I had left in my body. Today was exhausting. 

“If you’re still hungry, I’ll see what else we can spare to give you. You’ll need all the energy you can get for the birth,” Bethany told me as she rubbed my swollen belly where the fetus seemed to be happily kicking against her touch. I didn't say anything about her touching my stomach, I could hardly care as the more movement I felt the more I longed to be elsewhere… anywhere but here as long as it was with Tom. This thing had torn us apart and I would be happy to be rid of it.

“Thank you, you are very kind,” a voice that sounded distantly like my own replied in a mechanical way before the silence engulfed the room once more. I didn't want to speak to her. Even though she was so nice, she wasn't whom I wanted to see. I wanted my husband, and as the hours passed and daylight gave way to the night sky it seemed like less and less a possibility that I would see him again.

“Where are you, Tom,” I whispered quietly to myself. Bethany had stepped out of the room to go to the lavatory which left me all alone with my thoughts, well almost all alone, it was me and this fetus that resided within me. 

“I miss you,” I mumbled out loud as I was about to touch my stomach only to feel liquid pool around my legs in the worst possible way, my water had broken and the child was definitely coming with or without Tom being by my side. As a new more powerful contraction hit me, my midwife Bethany came back into the room and one look at the situation and she immediately went into action. Forcing me to take off my stockings and undergarments so that the baby could be born and monitoring my contractions and dilation. It was all going so fast, too fast… I thought birth was supposed to take hours! Another painful contraction hit followed by another one, they were getting closer and closer each one more agonizing than the last. 

“You’re doing great Merope! You’re dilating quite fast. I suppose you may have already been a bit dilated before coming here. You’re 9 cm dilated, only one more to go and its pushing time,” Bethany encouraged as I smiled half heartedly while gripping the sheets so hard that my knuckles turned white.

“If only I could cast magic… I may be able to numb some of the pain,” I cried out only to realize that I said my thoughts out loud which earned a hearty laugh from Bethany, who as I suspected was a muggle who didn't know any better.

“If only ha! That would make all deliveries so much better,” Bethany laughed as she checked on me beneath my gown again and came back with a hearty grin… a look on her that I did not like. 

“I believe its time for you to start pushing. When the next contraction comes, I need you to push with all your might ok,” she stated kindly as she wiped some of the sweat off of my forehead and gave my hand a good squeeze. This was really happening, I was really giving birth… alone in an orphanage. 

“I’m scared,” I croaked. I was terrified. The pain was enough to scare any living man, let alone woman but here I was doing all this alone for a man who wasn't even there to hold my hand or sit outside a waiting room for me.

“You’re gonna be ok. You can do this Merope. You’re stronger than you think, now when the next contraction comes… push,” she emphasized the words push and sure enough the next contraction hit hard and fast. I followed her instructions the best I could and pushed, I pushed with everything I had, letting out a blood curling scream and crying each time a new wave would hit. It was painful, oh so painful as I could feel the head of the child ripe me apart down below as Bethany happily exclaimed that she could see its head crowning. 

“I cant do this anymore. I can’t,” I cried utterly exhausted and in so much pain. How did women do this all the time? How did my mother do it, were the thoughts that were swirling through my head as another powerful contraction hit and I felt as if I might pass out. 

“Yes you can Merope. You must. For your own sake and the sake of this child. All I need are two more pushes from you. You can do that right, just two more giant pushes,” she emphasized as she smiled at me and I nodded weakly and gritted my teeth pushing as hard as I could. It was agonizing but for a moment relief washed over my fatigued body as the smaller body of my child was removed from me and it let out a healthy wail into the night. 

“Congratulations Merope! It’s a boy,” Bethany exclaimed in excitement as she handed me the small wailing baby that was covered in a slimy white coating and some bits of blood on him. He was small and wrinkly but had a very loud cry which indicated he was healthy. 

“My baby boy,” I smiled lovingly as I cradled him in my arms and cooed at him, hoping it would soothe his cries. The effect was almost immediate as his wails slowly reduced to whimpers before he nuzzled his head in my chest and one of his tiny fists gripped my finger. 

“What will you name him,” Bethany asked as she scurried to another end of the room and wheeled over the tray with medical instruments in it lay. With the quickness and ease of a professional, she clamped and cut the umbilical cord and swathed my child in a warm blanket so he wouldn't be exposed to the night air before helping walk me through the placental delivery which was honestly like pushing out a small ball of period blood. It was grotesque but necessary.

“I will name him Tom, after his father,” I said in a day dreamy state as I noticed little tufts of dark brown hair shooting from his pale head which I gently caressed as he had passed out from exhaustion. 

“Tom Riddle? That’s a nice name. No middle name though,” Bethany inquired as she looked between me and the baby.

“I have never thought about a middle name before, but I think a suitable one would be to name him after my father Marvolo. Yes, that will do. Tom Marvolo Riddle will be his name,” I told her. It was the perfect name, the blend of both our worlds… muggle and magical.

“That’s an excellent name. Let me get the birth certificate form for you filled out so we can mail it to the British royal registry and then i’ll help teach you how to nurse if he doesn't latch on properly. You should rest now,” Bethany replied as she slowly got up and started to head out of the room before it dawned on me, maybe they too have a telephone here. I could make a call to Tom! Notify him that his son was born. He’d be delighted to know, I’m sure he would. 

“Wait please! Is there a phone I could use? Please this is urgent. I would love to contact my husband, tell him that our son is born,” I pleaded with her, hoping that my eyes conveyed my unwavering conviction in this matter. There was no way what that other lady said was the truth. Tom wasn't that kind of man.

“We do have a phone… but you really should rest and recover. You tore quite a bit and you're still bleeding a bit,” Bethany said hesitantly as she bit her bottom lip and looked anywhere but my eyes. Why were all these women so hell bent on keeping me from my husband. Whores! The lot of them. 

“I will be fine. Please, I need him to know,” I urged as I got out of the cot and staggered her way, leaving the small baby Tom in his portable cradle all by himself. He was asleep so he should be fine and I’ll only be gone for but a moment, I consoled myself inwardly as I made my way to Bethany standing at the front entryway of the room who sighed but began showing me the way to the phone regardless. 

“Just one quick phone call. We normally just use the phone for emergencies,” Bethany instructed me as I staggered behind her with a little hop in my step. I get to hear Tom’s voice. Tom, my love, how are you doing? Have you been eating well? Did you miss me? Why didn't you come to see me and our child? All of those thoughts jumbled in my head as my heart pounded in my chest as I came upon the orphanages phone. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I dialed the number that I memorized for Tom and asked the operators to link me to the phone in the riddle manor. It wasn't long until an all too familiar voice answered the phone.

“Hello? Who is this,” the deep baritone voice of my lover, my husband, answered on the other end. He sounded cautious but open to talking, which I took as a good sign. 

“Tom? Darling, its me! Merope, your wife. Where are you? I have just given birth! You have a son,” I exclaimed gripping the phone tightly as silence came from the other end. Deafening silence that seemed to last for ages, and as moments passed I feared that he had hung up on me. 

“Tom?! Are you there?”

“Why are you calling me,” came the steely voice from the other end which took me aback. It was still Tom’s voice but not the loving, caring, and protective voice of the man I loved and married. 

“Don’t jest dear. I’m calling because I gave birth and am wondering when you will come pick us up. We are at Wool’s Orphanage. The horrible nurse at the hospital told me that you said some nasty things so we had to come here. But everything is ok. I have had a wonderful midwife and your son, your heir was born safe…” 

“Bloody hell would you just bugger off already! I thought I made it clear the day I left and every other day that followed that I don't want to see your filthy face before me ever again. Whatever the nurse told you in the hospital was correct. You’re a whore… no you’re worse than that and I loathe your existence. What you did to me… with whatever devilsome power you sold your soul to I want no part in! I want no part in what you forced me to make with you. As far as I’m concerned we were never married and we never had a child,” the man on the other end spat into the phone, each word digging a knife deeper and deeper into my heart as tears begun to stream down my face. 

“Tom please, I can explain. Please don't abandon me… I love you,” I cried clinging to the phone for dear life as my knees shook, barely holding up my small frame. 

“I don’t love you. Never have and never will. If you dropped dead I wouldn't even bat an eye nor shed a tear, that’s how much I care about you Merope. Don’t ever call this number again. It wont end well if you do. Goodnight,” were the last words spoken between me and the love of my life as I heard the distant click of a phone hanging up and then silence. Silence that stretched for eternity as I gripped the phone with both hands, tears wildly streaming down my face.

‘Tom?! Tom?! Please answer! Tom,” I cried into the phone before I felt strong but small hands pry the device from my frail ones and put it back on its stand as I collapsed into the arms of Bethany who stood by there waiting.

“Shhhh love. Its gonna be alright. Come on now, lets go back to your baby. I bet he’s hungry and wants to see his mother,” she soothed me as a loud sob escaped my mouth, drowning out everything else around me. I was so stupid. So foolish to think that I deserved his love or any love for that matter. My father and brother were right! I was Merope the loveless. No one could love me and I couldn't love anyone in return.

“I gave everything to him! I gave up everything I had and it still wasn't enough,” I sobbed as Bethany became like a pillar, holding me up and guiding me back to the birthing room where young Tom jr was sleeping soundly. 

“Its not you dear…”

“Yes it is! It’s always me! I always mess everything up. My brother and father tried to tell me this early on and I didn't listen. I shouldn't have hoped. I shouldn't have wished for better. There was no point in any of this! He doesn't love me! He… he never loved me. I should just disappear, i’m not needed in this world,” I cried as I sat down on this the bed, a fresh new set of sobs wracking through my body. 

“Of course you’re needed in this world, that small baby over there needs his mother and doesn't know any different. You’re all he has,” Bethany told me gripping my shoulders as I looked over at the small baby sized bed to see the pale boy with tuffets of brown hair squirming. Suddenly I felt sick to my stomach, all motherly feelings I had felt for this… this thing were gone and replaced with loathing and hatred for it. It was all its fault! I wouldn't have stopped amortencia with Tom if I wasn't pregnant with it! It was his fault that Tom left me! This thing ruined everything for me! It ruined and injured my body, it destroyed my relationship with Tom… it… it was evil.

“I hate it! I don't want it! It ruined everything for me,” I screamed at Bethany causing her to take a step back with eyes wide open as the baby whom I was referencing to woke up and started crying loudly. Covering my ears I tried to block out the cries from the newborn thing in the bed next to mine. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up! Were the only thoughts I could muster as I ignored the fact that Bethany had picked him up and was bouncing and cooing him. 

“He’s probably hungry. I think you should feed him,” she told me as she tried to hand him back to me and I shoved her away, hoping that both her and that thing would fall to the ground. Unfortunately, she caught her balance right away and neither of the two of them were hurt. Instead she walked right back to the baby bed and placed him back down in the baby bed before turning to me, an odd fire lit in her eyes as she walked over to me.

“You will cease this behavior this instant,” she proclaimed rather loudly as her hand reeled back before it made contact with my cheek in a loud and prominent slap. The kind midwife who had brought me food earlier was gone and replaced by a woman who resembled my brother when he was angry… always physically assaulting me even though I didn't do anything that was wrong. 

“You have a child. You are a mother now. It is time to stop being selfish and grow up. Now, will you feed your baby or do I have to give it formula,” she asked in a stern voice as I touched the cheek that she had slapped. It was already starting to swell a bit. Looking down at my lap, my sobs slowed down into nothing but silent tears. I had to comply to what she was demanding, after all people like her were all the same. Nice when they want to use you for something, and mean when you didn't do what they asked of you.

“I’ll feed him,” I whispered as I slowly shed my top and revealed my breast exposing my nipple to the cold night air as I held out my arms for the neonate to be placed in them. Cautiously, Bethany gathered up my son in her arms and gave him to me. For a moment I hoped he wouldn't latch so I could discard him and let her feed him, but that moment passed very quickly as the young child latched onto my erect nipple quite fast and eagerly as he milked what little nutrients my body was producing dry. So much so that I had to switch to the next breast, I wasn't producing much but he demanded so much from my body. They all demanded so much from me! I was tired. I don't want this. After the feeding, I handed Bethany back the child. I just wanted to sleep. 

“You’re doing great Merope. Trust me it’ll get better. Even without your husband, life goes on,” Bethany reassured as she tucked little Tom back into his cot and helped me into the one I was using. My eyelids felt heavy and my body felt so exhausted, but that was fine. My love didn't want me anymore… no one wanted poor pathetic Merope so it would be alright if I went and disappeared right. 

“Will it really,” I asked Bethany as I fingered the hilt of my wand in my dress under the covers. I knew she was lying, they all lied when they wanted you to do something. It was like second nature to them.

“Of course it will! Let me go get the birth certificate so we can send it to the royal registry. I’ll be right back so rest up ok,” Bethany told me as she quickly scurried out of the room and disappeared out of the corridor. Leaving me alone with the small baby in the big empty room. 

“I don't want to be here anymore,” I whispered as I gripped the hilt of my wand and pulling it from the pocket in my dress where it hid. I twirled the delicate oak wood in my fingers numbly as I gazed dazedly at the ceiling. No one loved me. Not my father. nor my brothers, or even my husband. Everyone who loved me, my mother, had passed away. So why don't I join her? Join the person who loves me. Leave this mortal plane and be free. Pointing the wand at my chest, I felt a tear slide down my cheek as I looked over to the child who was squirming once more. Perhaps he sensed my magic, an amusing thought danced in the back of my mind as neither love nor disdain for the child filled my heart. Just apathy. 

“Hopefully you’ll live a better life than me little Tom. Find love. True unrelenting love, and hold on to it with all your might so you don't end up like your pathetic mother. I’m sorry, I cant do this anymore. Forgive me,” I told him as more tears slipped down my cheeks as I pointed the wand at my chest. Goodbye little Tom, goodbye father, goodbye brother, goodbye my love…

“Avada Kedavra,” I whispered, preforming the necessary wand motions for the killing curse as a green light emitted from my wand and struck me square in the chest. As the world faded around me the last thing I heard was a wail from my child, my little boy as if he was crying out for me. Oh god… what have I done, were my last thoughts as my consciousness and life force faded from this world.

Bethany POV

The wailing of the newborn baby brought me back to the infirmary with the paperwork, was that woman really neglecting her child? I don’t know the circumstances between her husband and her but right now her baby needed her. Upon entering the room I resolved to give her a firm scolding, that was until I saw her arm dangling limp over the side of the bed. Oh god… oh god no.

“Merope,” I called out to her as the papers in my hands fell to the floor and I dashed over to her bedside instantly checking her pulse on her wrist, mildly aware of her baby’s cries in the background. No pulse. I checked again on her neck just in case. No pulse. I put my head to where her heart should be, tears welling in my eyes, no pulse. What went wrong! She was bleeding a bit but it was not that much! She shouldn't have died. Oh god what happened here?! I was drawn out of my own pity party by the wails of her newborn which had now reached a deafening volume, so loud in fact that I could’ve sworn that the window in the room had cracked slightly. He must’ve sensed that something was wrong, that his mother was no longer in this world. Scooping him up, I did the best I could to sooth him. Gently bouncing him against my bosom while rocking my body back and forth.

“Its going to be ok, its going to be ok Tom,” I told the poor newborn as his sobbing continued as if he was crying out for his mother to come back. Biting back my tears, I took Tom with me to see Lady Tilda. Another orphan had officially arrived at Wool’s Orphanage. 

2 months later

Lady Tilda’s POV

There weren't many infants at Wool’s orphanage. Of course they had an nursery specifically for abandoned infants but more often than not most of the kids that were there were between the ages of two or older. In fact, Tom had been the first infant that was born in the orphanage and remained in its care in a long time, years in fact. 

Sighing, I picked up the small sniffling babe and gently rocked him in my arms. He hadn't been the same since his mother had passed away, it was like he knew she was gone. He cried constantly to the point where he either exhausted himself or dehydrated himself, neither of which was a good thing.

“You must really miss her, poor child,” I mused as I began to prepare his formula for his morning meal. The doctor said that he may be expressing some post trauma from loosing her and that this would go away with time as infantile amnesia kicked in but for now to keep a close eye on him and to make sure he wasn't dehydrated. It was round the clock care for sure and there weren't that many orphanage staffers on hand who could handle a newborn, especially not one in need of such intensive care. “You know, some day you’re gonna look back on this all and it’ll be a long forgotten memory so there’s no need to shed any tears,” I hummed in a sing song like voice as I finished sanitizing the bottle and checking the temperature of its contents. Hmmm, just right. Finding the right balance between holding him and supporting his head was tricky because I hadn't held a baby in so long but little Tom didn't mind, because as soon as he saw the bottle his mild whimpers stopped and he suctioned on to the lip of the bottle sucking out the milk while his tiny hands tried to steady the object. 

“That’s it little one, eat up,” I sighed as I walked over to the rocking chair in the nursery and took a seat. Tom’s new nurse would be starting soon and helping with his care since all the other caretakers were exhausted. At least until he was of toddler age and could feed and potty by himself. 

“You have a long road ahead of you but you’ll be alright,” I lied looking into his navy blue eyes which would surely turn brown as he got older, most of these orphans didn't turn out alright or survived for that matter and I was sure he wouldn't be an exception either. 

[depressedcoffeeaholic]

1. What music genre fits your tc the most?

Dad rock or 2014 pop, there is no in between with this man.

2. What's your favorite personality trait for your tc?

The way he actually cares about you and making sure you succeed 😌

3. Do you think they fit into a certain aesthetic or two? If so, which ones?

Dark Naturalism, and no I will not be providing context.

4. If you could, how would you comfort your tc? (Like if they seem to be having a rough day)

I would probably just make him take a nap or something because he seems super tired and stressed out lately.

5. What type of winter activity do you think is their favorite?

Staying inside to watch a movie while it snows for sure.

6. If you could (or have) what book or movie would you recommend to you tc?

Australia with Hugh Jackman

7. What's their sense of humor like? Is yours similar?

It's somewhat similar, for sure. I hardly ever made jokes with J last year because I was so shy, but light banter with him is always fun.

8. What's the nicest thing your tc has ever said to you?

Well, it's not necessarily a compliment but I really like it when he calls me darling and you can hear a slight accent to it. (I can't mention any actual compliment because my friends might find this...)

9. What wintery activity would you love to do with them?

I think it's be fun to go skiing if I wasn't so bad at it

10. What do you think your tc's love language is?

Words of Affirmation, he really strives toward trying to gain acceptance with people.

11. Do you have a quote or poem that you associate with them?

Poem: Age Difference by Lang Leav (please for the love of goodness's sake, check it out, you'll see why)

12. Do you prefer emailing them or talking in person?

Talking, because for whatever reason it may be, I hate sending emails.

13. Do they have a signature cologne or perfume?

I don't know what he wears but it smells like a mix of mint, coffee, mahogany and new leather.

14. Is your tc someone you can go to for support?

Yes, he really helped me out a lot last year and I'm very thankful for that

15. Have you ever pictured yourself with their last name or vice versa?

No, I actually haven't.

16. Is there anything you don't like about your tc?

He's a lot less personal than he used to be and he's not so talkative when other people around me are also trying to talk to him as well.

17. Have you ever seen them in a really bad mood?

Yes, he's been angry more times this year than I've seen him be like. And he's not a moody person at all-usually.

18. Does your tc ever laugh differently when they're with you?

He does! It's deeper, and he always looks me in the eyes when he's laughing at something I said.

19. What's your tc's staple drink? (If they have one)

Dark coffee

20. Is there anything that the two of you have in common? Is there a lot?

We both have a few things in common, and I remember one time when he mentioned how he noticed a few specks of blue in my eyes just like him (well his are blue and mine are dark green) and it was a really cute moment.

21. Have they ever targeted you directly in class or in the halls?

Definitely, especially because I'm easy to tease.

22. Have you ever said anything that might have given away your feelings?

He asked me if I thought he was funny and I said yes (except my voice had a very flirtatious tone that I did NOT mean to use.)

23. Do you dream about them often?

Not really

24. Is your tc more physically or verbally affectionate? Or not at all?

Verbally, for sure.

25. If you could, (or have) what would you get your tc for Christmas?

I saw this one really nice mug awhile back that I really regret not buying.

26. Do you like them in a romantic sense or in a more platonic way?

Definitely romantic now, but it did start platonically.

27. Are they a cozy sweater person?

No, he's a polo person.

28. What color looks best on them?

Grey and navy blue. Although he does occasionally look absolutely sinful when he wears a black shirt and jeans, I don't know why.

29. If you could see yourself the way they see you, would you take the chance?

Ummm, yes. Partially because of the amount of embarrassing things he's caught me doing.

30. What little habit they have is your absolute favorite?

I love it when he immediately waves and smiles at me the moment he sees me in the halls.

31. If it was legal, would you share a midnight kiss with them?

...yes. At the same time, only if he is was single. I do not support cheating nor do I support pedophilia.

[allthingsscented]

SEMI-ANNUAL SALE HAUL! part of my Christmas gifts from my partner was taking me in and letting me pick out whatever i wanted at SAS ❤️🥰

my reviews so far:

Pumpkin Pie Pocketbac Holder: i wanted this around fall but never got it so i was glad to see it on sale. it’s super cute! 🥧

Pumpkin Car Scent Clip: i’ve been wanting more holiday car clips so i decided to pick this up for next fall 🎃

Pumpkin Apple Room Spray: one of my favorite scents ever, and a fall staple! i had to get a room spray of this since they didn’t have it when i tried to this past fall. it’s a warm pumpkin and apple and my favorite scent as far as candles go at Bath & Body Works! 🎃🍎

Strawberry Snowflakes Hand Soap: grabbed this hand soap to use in february for Valentine’s Day. i think it would make a great scent for that. if you’re curious about the scent check out my previous post!

Love Always Wins Candle: i do really love this scent for summer and never got it in the candle! the packaging is also so cute for Pride Month! if you’re unfamiliar with the scent it has sangria fruitiness to it with an ocean-woodsy note as well🌈🏳️‍🌈

Summer Melody Dry Shampoo: i’ve been looking for a new dry shampoo lately so i decided to give this a try and it’s fantastic ! i’ll probably make another post to talk about it in full. the scent is honeydew and vanilla and it has a very warm sandy vibe to it 🌞

Sun Ripened Raspberry: i had to get this for my mom, she used it when i was a kid so one SAS i got her one. she said it was good but she wasn’t crazy about it but then used the whole bottle in less than a year! guess she liked it more than she remembered 😂 it’s a sweet and perfumey raspberry scent and a classic but retired scent at Bath & Body Works ❣️

Forever Red: i have been obsessed with this scent since eighth grade when it came out for the first time. it’s a sophisticated night-out type scent but softer than the other scents i describe that way. the pomegranate and floral scents are most prominent but it has a rum and oak that give it a sultry vibe as well. 💋

Bright Christmas Morning: was bummed to not get this one in the body spray but it was sold out when i got there so i grabbed it in the lotion. they really did well capturing the scent of the home fragrance in a body care with this one. it’s fruity but keeps the holiday vibe to it. the blood orange note shines through and it’s amazing 🍊🎄

Black Tie: this one is definitely cologney and sophisticated. a night-out scent for sure as well. the sage gives it an almost aromatherapy vibe on the dry down 🤵🏼‍♀️

Winter Cherry Blossom: if you’re looking for a Japanese Cherry Blossom adjacent scent, this isn’t it. i’ve heard this one is like a winter spin on Cherry Blossom. it’s very old-timey perfumey, with a wintery floral scent. 🌸❄️

Sapphire Moon: this one is much more bright than the spray, the pear shines through more than the other notes 🌕

Pink Lily & Bamboo: this one was on my list with a question mark for SAS but as soon as i smelled it i knew i had to get it! it has the same bright floral vibe as Candied Violet Sorbet, with a strong bamboo underlying that gives it a truly planty scent. i love it and can’t wait to use it this spring and summer 💐🎋

Sport: my lovely partner picked out one thing for himself throughout the whole store! i had a feeling he’d like this one though. it’s citrus and mint with woodsy undertones on the dry-down 🍋🍊🏀

Winter Candy Apple: a holiday staple, and mine is about gone! it’s a fruity floral, but the cinnamon gives it a spicy holiday feel. 🍎

Wrapped in Vanilla: my Blush Cardigan obsession led me to ignore this one initially, but it’s very nice. if you want just a straight-up toasty vanilla creamy scent this is the one for you! 🍨

Coffee & Whiskey: picked up a backup, because i’m obsessed. it’s the perfect spiked coffee scent and half of my family is obsessed with it as well! ☕️🥃

Brown Sugar & Fig: a staple in my collection and my body cream was running low. this is a retired scent from Bath & Body Works that i grew up using from my moms collection when i was young! it’s a favorite of mine in the fall. it’s a warm sugary scent with notes of fig, coconut milk, and brown sugar 🍂

Blackberry & Basil: this one was sold out in the body spray as well which was a bummer but at least i got it in the cream! it’s a little different from the hand sanitizer that comes out in the fall, with a more floral, herby vibe to it but still has a sweet blackberry note! 🌿

[cohendyke]

certified perfume post <3 i dont have a pic of my collection but here is my list and thoughts. call me jeremy the way i fragrance or whatever. list under cut because its kinda long…. btw most of these were bought on discount so before you ask what i do. well i work in retail </3

louis vuitton pacific chill- this one is soo unique i kinda fell in love with it the first time i smelled it. its minty citrusy and also notes of cucumber so its soo fresh without smelling like an old lady. kind of cologne-y which is also nice because i love gender neutral scents i dont love super feminine scents

louis vuitton afternoon swim- TOP FIVE <3 this is my go to “special event” perfume its also citrusy and ginger-y and i think its technically unisex but whatever.. lasts super long i think this one is my staple fragrance ive been wearing it a while snd ill keep wearing it foreverrr. this was also the first one in my collection so thank you mum <3

byredo slow dance- this ones unique it smells weird when you first put it on but it dries down nicely. kind of smells like how those natural essential oil based perfumes from a crystal shop would smell. still nice though. i dont love most of byredos scents especially at that price but this one is cool. my only impulse purchase on this list but im not mad! its my summer-fall scent <3

diptyque philosykos- okay technically i dont own this one yet because im waiting for employee double discount to start so i can buy it then but ohh my god. i dont know what its supposed to smell like but to me it smells exactly like my grandpas backyard/garden in rural nova scotia so i do need it and i put it on as soon as i get to work. diptyque has so many unique ones eau de papier is another cool one (it just smells like rice <3)

maison margiela replica jazz club- LOVEE this one. definitely more of a cologne but i love it soo so much. this is my fall staple scent and every year for christmas my mum gets me a new bottle it is soo nice. its woody smokey and kinda boozy. amazing.

jo malone ginger biscuit- smells exactly like a gingersnap but surprisingly gender neutral (my dad actually asked if i could get him one LMAO) very holiday/christmassy.

jo malone orange bitters- this ones so hard to explain because oranges evoke summer for me but this one is very wintery. i wear it with ginger biscuit for the ultimate winter scent… yay <3 fun fact i brought my bottle to work one time and the asset protection guy got mad at me because it kinda looked like i stole it

jo malone emerald thyme- smells like an herb garden and also a mystical forest but does Naught last </3 i still love her though

jo malone sunlit cherimoya- kinda smells like tea and fresh blososms!! probably the most feminine one on my list and i love it. honestly dont wear this one enough but i really do love it

[catfuyus]

GOOD GUY F*CKS BAD GIRL ft. SHOUTO TODOROKI

▹ NOTE. second time’s the charm (word count: 2.8k)

▹ WARNING. pornstar!au, sex on camera, this is filthy, fingering, sloppy sex, ass play, anal, oral (fem receiving), etc, minors dni

▹ SUMMARY. recently famous model shouto todoroki turns pornstar for the chance to meet you

It’s a big house somewhere in Beverly Hills. It’s easy to rent larger mansions out here, and the building your crew had selected was famous for filming. The marble floors were heated. The kitchen was filled with energy giving fruits. And you were clad in nothing but your underwear, makeup crew gingerly touching up your face.

It would’ve been a perfectly normal scene had it not been for the handsome stranger next to you. Tall. Broad and well defined. Muscular. He smells nice. Something woodsy and wintery, but not overbearing in the slightest. He was also stripped down to his boxers as a member of the staff went over the rules with him.

He would’ve been another perfect addition to your mile long list of hottie conquests, had it not been for his two tone hair. White on one side, red on the other. Heterochromatic eyes. IcyHot.

One of the newest models in advertising clearly enjoying his ten seconds of fame. His two tone hair and eyes, handsome face and gorgeous body had girls all over the world fawning over him. His selling of the post workout heating coolant had given him a catchy nickname that stuck.

But the porn industry isn’t modeling. And it only meant one thing for you. You’d be working with an amateur today.

“Why are you even here?” You scoff once the crew member is done going over the rules with him and once he wanders aimlessly to your side. “Aren’t you big in advertising, IcyHot?”

His eyes stay politely fixed on your face, completely unfazed by the black set of lingerie you’re displayed in. “Yes, a lot of people really seemed to like the way I looked in that commercial.”

A beat of silence passes as he waits for someone to lightly spray you with perfume. Waiting for them to bounce away before replying. “A lot of people commented that they wanted to see me naked, but I’m really here because I want to fuck you.”

“What?” You falter. His face is expressionless, maybe a bit surprised with how you’re reacting. But you’ve heated up. Completely embarrassed and caught off guard and embarrassed about being caught off guard because the guy you’re about to have sex with just confessed that he wants to fuck you.

He chuckles then. Gives you an unexpectedly fond smile before the camera man is calling the two of you into the bedroom.

You hop beside him in bed and lean against the bed frame with the camera pointed right at you. The cameraman asks the two of you to state your names (which get bleeped out) and declare that you are both sober and willing participants.

The cameraman starts asking Todoroki a few casual questions. “This is our favorite model’s first time in a porno, right?” The tone is light and teasing, expectant of his gorgeous actor.

“Yes.”

Todoroki is icy with his reply. Doesn’t smile or return any of the energy the director gives him. Even sits with his hands in his lap while you stare at his face right beside him. Doesn’t he know this is the time to be getting warmed up?

The director laughs awkwardly and brings up Todoroki’s excited fans, and you giggle on queue, playing your part. To make up for Todoroki’s short comings, you stretch one bare leg out towards the camera, keep the other tucked beneath you as you turn your body towards the man and place a calculated hand on his thigh.

“Whoa, enough talk, huh?” He chuckles, “looks like she’s ready to go. You sure you can handle her, IcyHot?”

He turns to face you before he replies. Looks into your face, face soft though not giving anything away, and says Yes.

And though it’s the same short reply he gave the cameraman earlier, your cheeks are burning up. Breath caught in your lungs before the director asks that you start with a kiss.

He wraps his fingers around the back of your neck and pulls you close. Pulls you right to his lips, and kisses you. Hard. Moving in slow sync to your own as your hands explore his bare chest. Every ridge of his muscles, the dip of his collar bones, his arms. Hard as steel and gripping your jaw. Keeping you locked in place for when he slips his tongue in. And you let out a soft moan. He tastes good. He knows how to use it. And you grind in his lap as you imagine where else he’ll tease you with his tongue.

A curious hand wanders down his chest, to the waistband of his boxers before you grip him through the fabric. He’s hard, and he grunts with your grip. Bites your lip when you give him a teasing stroke.

And then he knocks you back.

You giggle up at him, at his massive form, watching as he takes your knees and spreads you open.

“Not so fast,” he runs his hands up and down your legs, “I wanna take my time with you,” and with a firm grip to your thighs, flips you onto your stomach effortlessly and roughly spanks your ass. “Ass up.”

You weren’t expecting the golden boy to be so rough, lifting your hips off the mattress with a smirk pressed into the sheets.

He rubs your ass cheeks and runs his hands down your spine. Unclasping your bra and slowly pulling the straps off your shoulders. Only finding the seam of your panties when a firm hand wraps around the back of your neck, keeping you pinned in place. With the fingers of his other hand at your hips, he slowly grinds into your ass. “Want me to take these off?”

Yes, you whisper, grinding back into him.

He chuckles. Low and deep. And it excites you deep in your stomach.

He uses both hands to slowly slide the fabric over your hips, over the globe of your ass, watching as a string of your arousal clings to the fabric and breaks as he pulls it away. And he moans as he ghosts two fingers over your entrance, hand coming away slick though you’ve barely been touched.

“Keep your back arched for me.”

It’s your only instruction before you feel his warm tongue on your cunt. Teasing, exploring your clit with the tip of his tongue before moving to your quivering entrance. Circling, before plunging in. Both hands on your ass cheeks spreading you wide for him, he gives heavy licks to your cunt before sucking on your clit. Rubbing his tongue against the sensitive nerve before pushing the pink muscle into your body.

You grind back against his face, mouth agape in mindless concentration. Chasing the points that feel best. Praying for him to suck on your clit again and coat his whole mouth with your taste. You’re sloppy and soaked by the time he sinks a finger in. Pumping it in and out of you roughly as his thumb ghosts over your clit. Forcing you to arch back into him for more, for it to go deeper, for more sensation, greedily sucking in everything he gives you.

His tongue finds the rim of your ass. Spreads his spit all over you. When he finds that your little hole is too tight, he moves his middle finger out of your cunt and collects your juices, spreading it up to your dirty hole and massaging in pleasurable circles.

He plays with your clit with his tongue. Switching from quick movements to fat licks, letting you ride his face until you feel it. The accumulation of his efforts, all bundling into a tall stack of cards, just a breath away from being blown down.

You’ve been moaning. You only just notice as your voice gets louder, a sound of surprise and pleasure escaping your lungs. And he knows it. Monitoring your every reaction. Every hip grind and back arch. And when he feels your body on the cusp of release, he pushes his finger past that ring of muscle.

“Ohhh…!” You gasp as you cum, body shaking as he fucks his finger into your ass. “Oh…” shivers run down your spine as your crest of pleasure bleeds into the next, a sudden, mindless rush of need forcing you to roughly bounce back on that finger. Cunt empty and desperately clenching against nothing.

Todoroki has the audacity to chuckle. “I knew you’d like that,” he kisses your back as his other hand comes around to play with your fluttering pussy. “I’ve watched your videos so many times…I always wanted to be the one to make you do that.”

You whine when he pulls his hands away. Relieved when you finally hear the crinkle of the condom wrapper.

“I don’t really have to use this, do I?” You hear his voice behind you. You lift your upper body off the mattress to turn to him to reply, only to see him directing the question at the cameraman.

“You’re good, it’s not in her contract.”

“Hmm?” You hum before your face is forced back into the mattress. He kisses the back of your head as he presses his hard dick against your ass. The excitement of almost getting stuffed emptying your mind from everything else.

“Good,” he moans into your ear as he coats his cock with your slick, “I want to fuck you raw.”

A dreamy moan is your only response, grinding back onto his dick as he lifts himself off your body to grab his shaft. Rubbing the mushroom head up and down your cunt. Teasing your entrance with just the head of his cock before wandering back down.

When he finally meets you at the entrance, he’s slow. So painfully slow. The pleasure blindingly mind numbing as he slowly starts to fill you up. You sink deeper into pleasure as you realize how terribly thick he is. Arching your back and spreading your legs even more as he consumes every inch of you, and reaching so deep you gasp. He’s in your stomach. The tiniest shake of your hips and you feel every inch of his girth deep inside you. You moan as you fist the sheets. Pant as he holds painfully still. And whimper when you feel his thumb roll over your puckered hole.

“God, I’ve wanted this for so long…” he moans as he slowly starts to pull out. Pulling out only half way before fucking back into you.

“Oh my god…” you gasp as he slowly begins to fuck you, rocking you back on his dick. Shouto puckers his lips to form a heavy glob of spit, letting it slowly fall to reach and land on your asshole. The air cold around your tight hole.

He picks up the pace. Starts fucking into you roughly, and your moans can only get louder, less controlled as he bounces you on his cock. Rubbing his wet thumb around your rim, he pushes in to get a better grip on your ass. Squeezing your asscheek as his finger wet with his spit pushes in deeper.

“Ohhh my goddd…!” You gasp, “ugh, shouto…!”

“Uh uh,” he pulls his hand away from your ass in favor of two fingers, stretching you out and curling them as he pauses on fucking you. Stretching you out as your body struggles to adjust to an empty cunt. “You only wanted to call me IcyHot earlier, remember?”

“I’m sorry,” you whine, “god, you feel so good…”

He spanks your ass with his free hand and smirks when you yelp. “I feel so good, what?”

“I can’t say it,” your voice is hardly a breathy moan as you try to negotiate. “I’m not saying it..”

He hums thoughtfully, rubbing his hardened dick against the cheek of your ass instead of giving you any more stimulation. “Do you really deserve my cock then?”

“No,” you whine in confession, bringing your own hand under your body to rub messy circles against your clit. “But maybe I don’t need it.”

In one fluid motion he flips you over again. Pinning your arms over your head as he hovers over you. In all your time with your face shoved against the mattress, you had forgotten how gorgeous he was. How truly handsome that jawline and piercing eyes made him.

“That’s not very nice.”

“Nice girls don’t do porn,” you smirked back at him.

He kissed you, hard, passionately, moving his lips desperately against yours. Slipping his tongue into your mouth and forcing your taste on you. The sweetness mingling with his spit to create an intoxicating combination before he’s grinding against you again, hips rutting into your own in heady eagerness.

“Fuck me,” you beg when he breaks the kiss to kiss down your neck. Sucking harsh spots into the flesh. “Please, I need it…”

His kisses trail down your neck between your breasts. Licking and sucking at your nipples. Squeezing your breast in even more stimulation. Your legs wrap around his waist tightly. They would rub together for the tiniest bit of relief if his body wasn’t in the way. So you squeeze around him, arms thrown over his shoulders, in a desperate plea to be fucked until Shouto’s own pants and moans betray him.

“Where?” He moans at another sinful roll of your hips.

“Anywhere, please, anywhere.”

He lifts your hips with two large hands and plants your thighs over his own. You’re soaking wet everywhere, and he’s still coated in all your slick from the grinding. With a hand on his cock, he curves over you to meet his lips to yours. Press into you in a soft kiss before pushing the head of his cock into your tight ass, forcing a gasp out of your lungs that he swallows into his own.

“Ugh, god you’re so tight…” he moans it like a prayer, eyebrows furrowed in desperate pleasure as he slides more and more of his length into your tight little hole.

“Ohmygodohmygod…” you pant out hurriedly, hips stuttering as your body plunges you into an unexpected orgasm. “Please don’t stop, pleaseplease” and you cum, body spasming underneath Shouto’s as the blissful wave sends you over the edge, tingling your every nerve as it spreads through your body.

“Fuck, oh fuck,” he moans, holding you tightly before shuddering in his own release. Pumping his cum into your ass with every deep thrust, coating your insides in overflowing hot cum as he breeds your ass like a bull. “Ugh,” he shakes as he finally stills, still plugging your ass to keep any more cum from leaking out. You can feel the excess dripping down onto the sheets below.

“Don’t think I’m done with you,” he pants as he glares at you with his mismatched eyes. “I’m not stopping until I’ve done that to both your holes.”

Your body shudders at his words, pussy fluttering around nothing, and you know you still need it too.

“Cut!” The director startles you from beside the bed. Shouto subconsciously covers your body with his own before remembering you’re both on display for the camera.

“Why don’t ya give us the money shot, IcyHot?” He chuckles.

Shouto reluctantly pulls back to allow for a full camera view. Your naked and lewd body on full display, blossoming hickeys and soaked skin zoomed in for the camera, and finally, your sloppy cunt destroyed by the gorgeous man himself. His cum oozing slowly out of your ass.

“Glazed her ass like a donut!” He chuckles before turning the camera back to shouto, putting his muscular body on display as well. “Great job, IcyHot!”

Some vile emotion snakes it’s way down Shouto’s throat. He’s not sure what he’s feeling. But he’s glaring at the cameraman. Unwilling to the hit the showers just yet.

“Wait,” your sultry voice reaches out to both the men. You’re still on your back, stretching slowly in blissed out relaxation. “We’re not done yet,” you smile up at Shouto, meeting his irritation with playful bedroom eyes. “Don’t you wanna see more?”

The director laughs and runs a hand through his thinning hair, “uh, yeah I wanna see more! If you two crazy kids got anything left in the tank. We’ll take a quick break, rehydrate and fuel up, and uh, if you two are willing, I got plenty more to shoot.”

You gingerly ease into sitting up, ignoring the inevitable wet spot that’ll be there on the bed once you get up. “That sounds good to me, what about you, IcyHot?”

Shouto smirks at the nickname. He’s been called it millions of times ever since that commercial, but somehow it feels that it’s found it’s rightful home on your tongue.

He rubs his thumb against your cheek as you sit on the edge of the bed looking up at him with ruined makeup. He still hasn’t stuffed your pretty face with his cock. There’s still so much that he has to do to you. “Yeah, quick break,” he resigns, resting the pad of his thumb on your bottom lip. “And then I’ll show you how to put that pretty mouth to good use.”

[demonpoxballad]

Airport Scenes Always Make Me Cry

Pairing - Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count - ~1300

Summary -  Movie night date with you and Steve - very cosy vibes with a pretty intense make-out sesh (eek!)

Warnings - quite sexual kissing, mention of an explicit scene from a movie, mention of Steve's crotch region.

Masterlist

Hi again! I apologise for the lack of context with these oneshots - maybe one day I'll write a chapter where they meet, but I'm enjoying just doing random little scenes at the moment. Again, if anyone has suggestions or requests send them my way <3

- Liv xx

“Hi! How are you?” Steve sounded excited and nervous to see you as he leaned over to give you a kiss on the cheek.

You scrunched your eyes up in delight before quickly reverting to a cool demeanour as he drew back to look at you. At least, you hoped it looked cool. “I’m good, how are you doing?” You stumbled across the threshold and handed him the flowers you had bought as a thank you for having you over.

It seemed like he loved the flowers, he wouldn’t stop thanking you and talking about how nice they were. “Come in, come in! I’ve just done pizza and snacks; I hope that’s okay?”

It was more than okay – the living room looked so cosy and the smell of mozzarella and basil made your stomach rumble. “Sounds perfect. Thank you so much for having me over again.” You took your snow boots and coat off and left them at the entry way.

“Seriously, it’s my pleasure,” he called from the kitchen, bustling about and putting the flowers in water. You took a moment to scream silently and hop about giddily in the hallway. “Are you a fan of the snow? It’s been pretty crazy out there today.”

You forced yourself to stand still like a normal adult. “It’s actually my favourite type of weather.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah, I just love how everything looks, and how cold it is.” Granted, you were freezing from the walk, but Steve’s flat was so snug, and you couldn’t wait to curl up on the sofa and watch a film with him.

“I have to admit, it doesn’t bring up fond memories for me,” he said, good-humouredly. He grinned cheekily at your shocked face, leaning against the kitchen doorway with his arms folded across his chest. You felt horrible for laughing, but it seemed like he didn’t mind making fun of himself.  “Please, sit down,” he gestured to the living room.

You tentatively perched on the sofa with a blanket whilst Steve put the film on - you had both decided on ‘Love, Actually’, which suited the wintery night. He plopped down right next to you, shoulder brushing yours, even though the sofa was big enough for four. The blood rushing violently in your ears drowned out the opening of the film.

Eventually you relaxed and settled into the sofa, bringing your legs up and resting them against his, shifting the blanket to share between the two of you. That gave him the encouragement to bring his arm up and around your shoulders. You were both grinning to yourselves like teenage idiots.

The food was as good as it smelled, with gooey chocolate brownies for pudding. “Hey – you have, um…,” Steve started, pointing at your face.

Of course you would make an absolute tit of yourself. “What? Is it all over my face?” You tried to get rid of it but your hand had chocolate on it too and just seemed to make the situation worse. Steve threw his head back in laughter while you flapped around, trying to hide your face from his.  

“Hey! No, here, let me,” he insisted, ignoring your mumbling noises of protest and reaching over to hold your chin, wiping your lips gently. Whilst his gaze was concentrated on your mouth you found yourself staring at his eyes, quickly flitting back to the tv when he caught you. You felt his gaze lingering on you as you tried not to smile bashfully, glaring intently at the screen.

“Stop it.”

“What?! I’m not doing anything!.” He definitely was. His watching felt like touching, and it was all you could do not to shudder.

After a while he resumed watching the film, thumb gently comforting your collarbone.

Every now and again you would glance up to see if he was enjoying it. He always noticed and grinned down at you, giving your shoulder a squeeze. You giggled nervously at his shocked face whenever the porn actors’ scenes came on, slightly worried that he would feel too uncomfortable. But he seemed to find it funny too, even though his eyes were darting around the room, no idea where to look.

During the airport scene at the end of the film, you couldn’t help but feel a bit weepy, it always got to you. Steve surprised you when you looked over at him to see his eyes looking a bit damp and red. “What can I say? I’m a romantic,” he chuckled while wiping his eyes, and your heart fluttered with how fond you were becoming of him. You gently peppered his face with kisses, tasting the salt on his eyelids and making him giggle even more.

He sneakily turned his head to catch one of the kisses directed at his cheek, drawing you in to his sweet, hot embrace. His other hand ventured to your leg, gently caressing it as he bent over you. A squeal escaped your lips as you clung onto his shoulders to avoid toppling backwards. He took the hint and adjusted his grip, cradling your shoulder blades with his hands.

Then he started to deepen the kiss, teasing open your mouth and stroking it with his tongue. You responded eagerly, licking his bottom lip and sucking it into your mouth. A growl slipped out of his mouth, so deeply pitched you felt it in the pit of your stomach.

“C’mere,” he murmured, grabbing your waist and pulling you on top of him, your knees settling on either side of his hips. You tried not to think too much about the bulge in his jeans pressing into you. It seemed like a good sign, but you weren’t that experienced and thinking about anything contained in his pants concretely made you feel a bit panicky.

It felt good to be on top, to have more control and be able to sit back and look at Steve whenever you liked. You did that a lot in between making out, clutching his jumper into your fists and massaging the soft muscle underneath with your fingertips. You loved just staring at his face, tracing his eyebrows, feeling the flutter of lashes as he blinked. He seemed to enjoy these moments as much as you, taking the opportunity to run his hands up and down your waist and back, appreciating the way your body curved and folded. He even brushed his hands up the inseam of your jeans, which sent literal shockwaves through your body, shallow breaths gasping out of your chest.

Eventually he pulled back and reached to the collar of his jumper. “I promise I’m not getting naked,” he said breathlessly as he yanked his jumper over his head. You really wouldn’t have complained.  “I’m just – warm.” It was true, the air around the pair of you felt like it was throbbing with heat, but you knew he always ran a little toasty anyway. His shirt was all rucked up after taking his jumper off, showing a strip of skin lightly trailed with dark blonde hair. He pulled it down self-consciously – you were probably gawking – and then took a hold of your hips to pull you close again.

You spent 40 minutes there on the sofa curled over Steve, stroking him with your mouth like you needed his contact to breathe. And when you both grew tired, lips swollen and numb, he lay down with you on top, head resting on his chest.

“I should probably go home soon.”

“I don’t want you to.” His legs came up either side of your waist, playfully circling around as if to keep you from leaving.

You smiled sleepily against his t-shirt. “I don’t want to, but I should.”

“I know.” He held up your face and kissed you on the nose. “Can I see you tomorrow?”

“Yes please.”

“Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow?” God, he was cute. You pressed your lips against each corner of his smile.

“Yes and yes and yes.”

[fyschl]

summary : the little things they do for you ; gender neutral

characters : diluc, razor, lisa

warnings : none

diluc

even though diluc has made a habit out of providing for all your needs and wants, he also has a tendency to bring you more thoughtful gifts. these gifts are less materialistic and more focused around the meaning it holds to either you or himself

many of the things he gifts you are handmade - ranging from a warm meal prepared for you to have dinner with him to a small weapon he thinks could come in handy for you some day

he once had a scarf made for you to keep you warm during your trips to and from the winery on wintery days. it was made of the finest cloth in teyvat, soft to the touch. the smell of sandalwood lingered for a good amount of time, a subtle reminder of diluc every time the scarf’s wrapped around your neck

if diluc notices you being cold he’ll stand closer to your side in a discrete effort to get some of his warmth to reach over to you. if in private, though, he has no qualms about wrapping himself around you. his favorite is cupping your cheeks with his hands, especially without his gloves. he brushes his thumbs across your skin fondly, his eyes softening to look into your eyes in adoration

on nights before days he knows he’ll be too preoccupied to spend as much with you as he’d like, he holds you a bit tighter in his sleep. he wants to indulge in you being by his side as much as he can. diluc always has the fear of you being unexpectedly taken from him at the back of his mind; after being on his own for so long, he can’t fathom what he would do without you. for this, he tries his best to make the small moments with you last

razor

razor’s the type to run into random things that remind him of you and save them to gift you at a later occasion. his gifts can range from pretty flowers he stumbles upon while hunting to a bleak rock he notices sticking out from the soil. his thought process is simple - he sees an item that he thinks you would appreciate, he must bring you said item.

he presents them to you with shining eyes, happy to be able to do something nice for you. he cant help but nuzzle into your neck if you seem to like what he brought you

if you ever return the favor, he treasures everything you give him. he has a small collection of the most prized gifts in a beat up wooden crate, tucked away for safekeeping. he keeps some of the other gifts you leave him by his usual hideout, as a sort of way to bring him comfort. as his lupical, he feels the responsibility to protect you from anything and everything. having a piece of something you left behind specifically for him gives him peace of mind

he brings you to the most beautiful places in wolvendom without even realizing it - he doesn't have much of an eye for beauty, yet he somehow manages to bring you to the perfect places whenever you’re visiting. 

lisa

lisa makes sure to keep her afternoon open just to spend her time drinking tea with you !! she was used to enjoying her tea on her own, but she later on decided to started inviting you to join her once her infatuation with you began. she originally took it as an opportunity to learn more about you, feeling the need to get to know you better out of pure curiosity. now, though, she takes it as a time to steal you away from the others. she teasingly makes remarks about getting to spend more intimate time with you away from prying eyes

she tries to get you to read the same books as her so she can talk to you about them more in depth. she wouldn’t mind waiting for you to read - she’d wait weeks on end just for you to catch up if it meant being on the same page as you. she listens intently to your thoughts, finding it cute to hear you speak your mind. she has her sudden rants too, visible frustration on her face if she finds one character to be particularly irritating

lisa’s open to hearing you talk about your own interests, she encourages it, even. watching you get invested in the things you’re passionate about makes her elated. she’ll try her best to pick up some of her own knowledge on your interests, wanting to relate more to you and your personal likes and dislikes

[haloburns]

the last night of sadness (it was clear he couldn’t go on)

Joan has lived through a lot of memorable events as a child of the 80s, a teenager of the 90s, and now living out her young adult years in the messy time that is the early 00s. But there's one moment that, even in her old, dementia-addled age, she will always remember: the wee morning hours of Saturday, December 06, 2009, the day the Banshee Wailed. Part twenty-seven of the the world is having more fun than me (tonight)/ series.

“Night Sarah!” Joan called as she finished locking the doors. She waited until Sarah climbed safely into her car, waved one last time, then set off down the street into the night, hands shoved deep in her beat-up leather jacket.

It was late, almost midnight, and most people were appalled that Joan walked by herself at night, but she liked it. There was something nice about those hours just before midnight. Her friends thought she was just being weird to be weird, more goth than punk, but she knew she had a point. The alleys around her cafe-bookstore had a softness to them, the darkness never too dark, the shadows never too long. It was comforting, almost. Sure, the alleys were dark and damp, piled high with boxes and mattresses and whatever junk people were throwing out that week, and it didn’t smell like daisies, but there was still a sense of comfort the dark brought her.

She took a deep breath of the salty sea air mixed with the crisp, late-fall, almost-winter smell lingering around the smell of the damp alley. Her favorite holiday was over, but never one to despair, Joan was looking forward to making Christmas Halloween-themed this year. Her mom was already throwing a fit about it, but she was twenty-eight, dammit. She could do whatever she wanted!

A sharp wind whistled above her, bringing a frigid gust of air with it. Joan shivered and pulled her jackets tighter around her. It was a decidedly wintery blast. As it faded back into the cool breeze that seasonably appropriate for Berkeley this time of year, Joan felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. Something was… different. Her alley no longer felt safe and comforting anymore.

She glanced over her shoulder as she picked up her pace, counting the seconds until she would reach the mouth of the alley ahead of her.

Then, as if from a long distance, she heard a few bars of her dad’s favorite song.

All our times have come… Here, but now they’re gone…

Another bone-deep chill swept over her, followed swiftly by an intense swell of grief. She hadn’t thought about her dad in a long while. Tears pricked her eyes as she finally burst from the alley. The street was still empty (it was still midnight after all), and she made her way down the side street, hurrying as much as she could without drawing attention to herself. She resolved to listen to that song when she got home, if only in the smallest hope that it would chase this chill away.

As Joan made her way towards her grungy apartment, glancing over her shoulder periodically as that intense feeling of wrong kept growing, broken pieces of the song floated down to her. It was hard to tell if someone was playing it on a rooftop far away, singing it high up somewhere, or if she was just imagining it. But she knew, somehow, that the song and the chill were connected.

There were only a few moments in her life that Joan remembers exactly where she was. Standing on the corner of her street, holding her brand new phone up to her and her friend’s ear as the radio host announced they had just won tickets to see NSYNC. Jamming to the radio in her Jeep with her friends when they announced Princess Diana’s death. Standing in the middle of the cafe in Berkeley with a cappuccino in her hand as the Towers fell. Clasping sweaty hands with Sarah, Sarah’s other hand cradled protectively around her very pregnant belly, as she and the rest of the cafe were glued to the TV as they watched this kid Phantom turn the entire world intangible just in time for that Disasteroid to shoot through Earth.

This would be one of those moments.

Joan was just turning the last corner for her street when it ripped through the night.

Continue on AO3

[annabethy]

under the mistletoe, watching the fire glow day 20: childhood

Character A and Character B are estranged childhood best friends,, percabeth,, this is definitely my favorite day

Percy Jackson is seven years old when he falls in love.

He doesn’t know it at the time, or for a long time after that.

When he first meets her on the swings, when she’s sitting by herself, he thinks she looks like a princess. Her curls are pretty and blonde, not a hair out of place. The first thing he really notices, though, is that she looks sad.

Looking back on it, he thinks that maybe that’s why he approached her. Percy was never the kid to step out and make friends first. But she looked like she could use it.

So as he sits next to her on the swings, he asks her, “What’s your name?”

She looks up from where her feet were kicking at the dirt, covering her pretty princess shoes in specks of black and brown. Her eyes are a striking grey – the kind that he could not possibly forget, even at the ripe age of seven. She tells him, “Annabeth,” and doesn’t say another word.

He responds with, “I’m Percy,” and follows her lead, silence settling all around them. He tries again the next day when he finds her sitting by herself on the same swings during recess. Today, she’s in a blue dress, and he tells her that it’s her favorite color.

“Really?” she asks, kicking the dirt again. “My daddy wanted me to wear the pink one.”

“I think the blue one looks better than pink,” he says.

At twelve years old, he thinks that’s when she became his best friend. That wonderfully dull day when the grey clouds rolled overhead on a chilly October day. It was the day the clouds matched her eyes too, he remembers.

It was the day he fell in love.

Percy Jackson is twelve years old when his heart first breaks.

He’s sitting in the grass outside her house, watching her cry. The tears roll down her face, and matching tears roll down his. It’s funny because they do everything together. They experience love and heartbreak and friendship and tears at once, and always together.

Percy and Annabeth, together forever and always.

Or so he thought.

But it’s only a week later that she moves out officially, and he never sees her again. They’d promised to keep in touch, but like all friendships, it always fades. She’s in California, and he’s in New York, and they’re both twelve. So young and wrongfully full of hope. But that was them too. Hopeful and bright, wishing of a future together.

At eighteen years old, he remembers their promise to find each other again. It had been an offhand comment, one that they’d seen in TV shows and movies. If they both turned twenty and weren’t married, then they’d marry each other. Percy can look back on it with a smile, because twenty was so young. So much life yet to come. But they had been ready to marry each other.

Maybe it was them being naïve, or maybe it was them being in love and looking for an excuse to stay by each other’s side.

Percy Jackson is eighteen years old when he gets his first girlfriend. Her name is Rachel, and he thinks that she’s really pretty.

(Not as pretty as Annabeth was, but he doesn’t tell her that.)

(He doesn’t need to. She already knows.)

At twenty-two years old, he now understands that he was always in love with Annabeth. It was rooted so deep inside of him that it made him who he was. There was never any getting over her because she’s what made him him. He was so young when he met her that he was still creating himself and his personality, and when she became a part of his life, she became a part of him.

There’s no one to blame for his failed relationship except himself. Somehow, Percy isn’t too upset anyways because he loved Rachel, but he never loved her the way he loved Annabeth, and he never would.

Percy Jackson is twenty-two years old when his heart aches for her.

There is a girl that looks just like him standing across the street. Or at least he thinks so. He hasn’t actually seen what she looks like because she hadn’t had a phone when she moved, and any forms of social media he’s sure she has now, she didn’t then. He’d lost contact with her entire family too.

But there’s something about her calling to him. She has those beautiful blonde ringlets down her back, not a hair out of place, and she is wearing a blue felt coat that falls to below her knees. Her shoes are white, with specks of black and brown as though she’s been kicking at the dirt, and it brings a smile to his face. Annabeth never did grow out of that habit for as long as he knew her.

Percy crosses the street, but he has no intentions of actually speaking to the stranger. He just needs to get back to his apartment, and she happens to be standing in the way of that. She turns just as he passes by, so he doesn’t get a glimpse of her face, but that’s okay. Millions of people live in New York City, and it is not possible that the one standing before him is her.

But then he is unsure if it’s his imagination when there is a faint, “Annabeth!” called from somewhere along the sidewalk, and she turns to the voice, and he turns to her.

His heart stops. She’s looking at someone else, but he can see the striking grey eyes that match the clouds overhead on this wintery December day, two days before Christmas. It has to be his imagination because she doesn’t move, but then she starts towards the voice, and he hears her name again, and it’s her.

Percy chases after her, weaving through the crowds along the street, and she is so close –

So close –

Percy’s fingers curl around her shoulder without thinking, and she jumps, whirling around, and he catches fear in her eyes that causes him to shrink back.

His voice is stuck in his throat because he is face to face with the girl he fell in love with fifteen years ago, and there is recognition in her eyes.

“Percy?”

“Yeah,” he chokes out.

Then she smiles and laughs, pulling him in for an immediate hug. “Oh my god, Percy.”

His arms wrap snugly around her, and she smells so good, and is as perfect as he remembers. He’s afraid if he opens his eyes, she’s going to disappear. “Open your eyes, silly,” she says.

He tells her truthfully, “I’m scared you’ll disappear if I do.”

She laughs again, a beautiful sound to his ears. Her hand slides into his, thumb rubbing soothingly. “I’m right here.”

So he opens his eyes, and she’s looking earnestly at him. He’s towering over her now, different from when she was taller than him at twelve years old.

“You’re somehow even prettier than I remembered,” he says before he can stop himself. His face blushes suddenly as he realizes what he just said, and he’s about to apologize before she stops him.

“I’d hope so,” she teases. “I was twelve! Braces were not a good look.” “You made them work,” he says, stepping to the side when someone tries to slide by. Everything is suddenly overwhelming, the sounds of cars rushing by and chatter all around, the honking of horns. He spots someone standing over Annabeth’s shoulder patiently. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

Annabeth shakes her head and motions the girl closer. She’s pretty too, but she doesn’t even begin to hold a flame to Annabeth. “This is my friend Piper. We were just walking around the city for a bit before heading home. Piper, this is my best friend from when I was younger. I told you about Percy?”

Piper makes a sly face at Annabeth, to which Annabeth pointedly ignores. Piper reaches a hand forwards to shake his hand. “How could I not have heard of the famous Percy? She talks about you all the time.”

“I talk about you a healthy amount,” Annabeth corrects. “He was my best friend.”

“The way you speak of him, I would’ve thought you still were.”

Annabeth and Percy lock eyes. “Yeah, well, I guess we just fell out of touch.”

“It’s a shame,” Piper says. “You two would have been cute as husband and wife.”

The statement makes Percy’s heart flutter. “Husband and wife?”

Annabeth rolls her eyes playfully. “I told Piper about our agreement to get married at twenty. I think we may have missed the deadline, though.”

Percy laughs. “I guess we did.”

They fall into a silence, and then Piper says, “I should get going. I’ll leave the two of you to get reacquainted, maybe even married.”

“Yes, thank you, Piper,” Annabeth says.

“I’ll see you at home, love,” she says. “Be safe.”

“I will,” Annabeth answers. They both watch as Piper leaves, and then Percy’s addressing her.

“Home?” he asks. “Where exactly is that now?”

“New York, actually. I moved here for university. I wasn’t sure if you still lived here though.”

“I couldn’t move away from here,” he jokes. “I had to stay put in case you ever decided to come back so you’d know where to find me.”

“I’m not going to lie, Percy. You’re a part of the reason I decided to come back,” she says. She shifts her feet like she wants to say something but doesn’t know if she should. “There’s so much to say I don’t even know where to start.”

And Percy knows exactly what she means. “Why don’t we go back to my place? I can make us some hot chocolate and we can catch up.”

“I’d like that.”

It’s a quick five minutes spent walking before they’re back to his apartment. He opens the door and is immediately overcome with warmth, a drastic change from outside. Annabeth steps inside, kicking off her shoes slowly as she looks around.

“This is a nice place,” she says. “You live alone?”

“Yeah. I tried the roommate thing, but it just didn’t work out. My job pays well enough for it, though.”

“And what is your job?”

“Oh, uh – I work at an aquarium. Nothing too fancy yet, but I do get to play with animals a lot. I’m a marine biologist.”

“I always knew you’d be,” she teases.

“And I always knew you’d be an architect,” he says. “Did that come true?”

“It did, actually. I’ve made it pretty far pretty fast too, and whenever people ask how I did it, I tell them you. You were always the person to cheer me on when we were younger. It helped a lot more than I think you realized.”

“I’m glad.”

They both sit on the couch, close but still far enough to keep a couple of inches between them. He faces her, one leg up on the couch, and she leans into him. It feels comforting, like they’d never been split apart.

Percy suddenly remembers when they were twelve and agreed to marry each other when they reached twenty. It causes him to start laughing, and he’s sure he looks insane.

“You okay?” she asks, amused.

“I’m just remembering – we could be married by now. I mean, obviously we wouldn’t be, but we really said we’d be twenty and marry each other.”

“We really did that,” she agrees.

“I don’t know why we chose twenty,” he admits. “Why not thirty?” He snickers. “We were so young we didn’t even understand that most people aren’t married by twenty, or even done with school.”

She smiles softly. “I knew, Percy.”

“What?”

“I knew twenty was too young to be married.”

“Then why did you agree to it?”

“Because I loved you,” she says. “I thought it was obvious.”

“I loved you too.”

She gives him a look. “It was more than just loving you. I was in love with you, and I wanted a reason to marry you. Even if I was twelve.”

“I’m hurt,” he says, a hand over his heart. But his heart is beating so fast he wouldn’t be surprised if it plops right out of her chest. “You were in love with me?”

“Would you be alright if I said I still was?”

“I’d be more than alright with that,” he says, “considering I’m quite certain I’m still in love with you too.”

She smirks but doesn’t move. “Something’s changed, Percy.”

“What?”

“I can’t read you anymore. I used to be able to tell what you were feeling, but now… I can’t tell if you’re joking.”

“I’m really not,” he assures her. “It’s insane, and probably way too soon to say this after seeing you again, but I would actually drop everything and marry you if you just said yes.”

“I’m tempted to,” she says.

“My mom would be over the moon.”

Annabeth coos. “How is your mom?” “She’s doing well. She had another baby, actually. I have a little sister, Estelle. She’s four now.”

“I’m happy for her.”

“Me too.”

And they’re silent again, but her face is right in front of his, and she may not be able to read him anymore, but he can surely read her.

He wants to kiss her badly because even after ten years, his love has never disappeared. He could live another lifetime and still be head over heels for her. So he whispers, “Can I kiss you?”

And she answers, “Yes.”

It’s everything he could’ve imagined. His breath is taken away, and her lips fit his perfectly. She’s soft and warm, and she’s beautiful and perfect, and now she’s here in his arms.

He pulls away, and when he looks her in the eyes, he sees a burning passion. And he feels it in his stomach too. Because a simple kiss will not make up for lost time. And it’s been ten years, but when a love is as strong as theirs, there is no point in waiting.

It happens fast. Percy’s shirt is pulled over his head, and hers follows soon after. They quickly make their way to his bedroom, and everything happens so fast after that that he is unable to keep up. His heart pounds, brain goes numb, lips swollen with every agonizing kiss she places on him.

It’s heaven and hell, fire and rain, and Percy and Annabeth.

Percy Jackson fell in love at seven years old.

He is twenty-two years old, and that love is finally his.

[sebstanseabass]

Afterglow (A Bucky Barnes AU fan fiction) - Chapter 6

Afterglow chapters

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

CHAPTER SIX

Steve left a trail of cool breeze from the outside which sent shivers on the surface of your skin. You immediately closed the door, slightly annoyed at the cold air New York had to offer.

"He seems nice." Bucky commented as soon as you got back inside. The jukebox had stopped playing. It probably already used up Bucky's money. "Looked like he couldn't hurt a fly." He added.

You agreed with Bucky as you sat back down on the high stool. He managed to bring out the drink you guys hid from Steve and placed it in front of you. A big smile spread across his face, still urging you to drink what he made just a few minutes ago. He kept convincing you that the "y/n" drink was a good and mean drink, perhaps "the best drink you'll ever have, I swear!" (even though he hadn't tried it himself). He spoke like a true businessman trying to sell his product. He never broke eye contact and kept his voice firm and strong.

"This is the first and last time I'm taking a drink from a stranger." You mumbled, picking up the drink. It was cold like the air outside.

"Hey, I'm no stranger!"

Before the drink could even reach your lips, you caught a whiff of its smell. It was kind of fruity yet minty at the same time but the scent of vodka still lingered on top of the drink. Bucky added a little umbrella, perhaps finding it in one of the cabinets while you were walking Steve towards the front door.

The first sip tasted like New York's wintery air that soon left. It was replaced by the taste of both spring and summer, basked in a state of glorious heat. "Bucky..." You gulped until there was no more left on the glass. "This is -- "

"The best drink you ever had?" His nose scrunched up.

You didn't want to feed him a big ego but even you couldn't deny that yes, it was the best drink you ever had in your life. There was something weirdly familiar in it; the same feeling that you felt as you stared at Bucky's sleeping face.

"Indeed it is." You sent him a smile. "Something familiar in all of it. For some unknown reason, I can't explain it."

"Because the drink is you." He replied, taking the glass from your hand and placing it on the dishwasher beside him. "Or what I thought about you the first time I saw you."

"The first time you saw me, you were butt naked and I had a bit of a concussion. You got fruity and minty from that?"

He smirked while opening the faucet. "Fruity and minty, huh?"

"Yeah," you replied, leaning back on the stool as you crossed your arms across your chest, "that's what it tasted like."

"Interesting." He hummed.

"Wasn't that what you wanted me to taste?"

"You tell me."

"You're confusing me, Bucky." You groaned. "Man, you didn't even get a taste of it. Not one single sip and you already assumed that the drink would 'fit' my personality."

"Fruity and minty." Bucky started to clean up the glass, then the rest of the counter. You stared at him, waiting for an explanation to what he just said. He looked like something out of Vogue magazine while cleaning the counter. You, on the other hand, must've looked like hell. "I'm like a magician when it comes to drinks, y'know -- "

"If you are," you interrupted, "you could've just made your one night stand disappear. But you're not, so you, Bucky Barnes, suck."

"No," he sighed defeated, "I'm like a magician 'cause a magician never reveals his tricks. And by the way, full name is James Buchanan Barnes."

"James is a lot easier to say than Bucky. It's one syllable against two." You frowned. "You know that, right?"

"What can I say, y/n?" He leaned against one of the cabinets with a smug look on his face. "I've been Bucky my whole life."

"You've also been James your whole life. Where did you even get the name Bucky?"

"Buchanan." He shrugged.

"You got Bucky from Buchanan?"

"As a matter of fact, yes. Plus, if I really were magician, Bucky Barnes had a nice ring on it. Don't you think so?"

"Whatever you say, big guy. Now pay up." You rolled my eyes. "And Bucky Barnes sounds like a villain's name. Just sayin'." This earned you a couple chuckles from Bucky.

The wiping cloth slid easily on the smooth surface of the newly-washed glass. Once he was done, he placed it back to where he got it. Bucky moved swiftly as if he knew his way in the bar. He playfully rolled his eyes at you before giving you a hundred dollar bill. "You should be the one paying me, y'know. I made a drink and helped you with a shit ton of boxes."

"James," you chuckled slowly, "between the two of us, you're clearly the rich one. Not richer. Rich. I don't even have a hundred dollars in my pockets right now, except," you grabbed the bill in his hand, "now." You placed it inside your pockets but of course, that would go to the cash register in a bit. "And you did use up some of our liquor. Even those damn new ones."

"Fair enough, then." He smiled. "Now, let's see those photos of yours."

Right. The photos that hang lonely on these chipped vintage walls, sadly deprived of human touch and sight. Before leading Bucky to one of the walls where your printed photos were, he grabbed his polo shirt (more like Peter's) and wrapped it around his body once more.

Your photos were all scattered on the walls, like nesting birds chirping in their homes; except no one would dare to look at them.

The bar was now enveloped in silence with the jukebox not playing. The only thing you could hear was the constant ticking of the wall clock that hung in between two of your photos which Steve framed after buying them from one of your failed photo exhibits. The walk towards the wall seemed much longer than it should. There was a warm feeling lingering on your stomach, the drink from earlier. You just now realized that you haven't had any solid food. Right now, there was a protein shake and liquor swarming inside your stomach like a bunch of bees. Then, a small churn came out. The instinct to hold your belly kicked in, hoping that Bucky didn't get to hear that.

He didn't say anything as he sat down on one of the booths, his gaze fixated on your photos on the walls as if studying every subject, light, and color captured by your lenses. He looked like he was inside the Met, moving from time to time to admire each photo.

"Y/n," he whispered, "these are gorgeous." Then, he turned around, sliding out of the booth to see some more. You didn't say anything. Just a small smile was enough. You were never one to take compliments anyway. "These photos should be out there, y'know, not inside the confinements of a vintage bar."

"The reason why they're here is because people from outside didn't seem to like them." You replied, trailing behind Bucky. "But that doesn't matter anyway.

He turned around with a frown etched on his face. "What do you mean?"

You pursed your lips, avoiding his gaze. "I mean it's not like people like them here. But that's okay, I guess. I mean, I'm doing product photos for small businesses. That's something."

"They're both different, right? Those photos you take in your small studio and these ones." The photos on the wall stole his attention once more. "You have the freedom to take whatever you want."

You stood there, picking at the blunt edges of the booth table, avoiding any eye contact you may have with Bucky. Suddenly, a roll of images from an early memory came to mind: Bucky's school-of paintings, tiny sculptures and the White Wolf headstone. "You seem like you're really into art."

"In whatever medium they're made, yes." He replied. "Film, painting, photography, writing -- everything!"

As far as you remembered, the only things Peter told you about Bucky were his wild adventures during his youth, and how Bucky could "run a hotel even with his eyes closed!" Peter didn't dive into the deep stuff about his stepbrother's life. It was always about girls, party, money, and booze. Perhaps Bucky's stories were only as good as stories you tell when you just want to have a good laugh while drinking. The sentimental stuff, you knew, were reserved for solemn dinner nights or even days like this inside a bar.

"Why run a hotel, then?" You genuinely asked, looking at the back of his head.

"It's the only thing I know." Bucky snickered, slowly turning around. "Besides making a mean drink, of course."

"You're never gonna let that slide, are you?"

"Never. I mean, c'mon. You've tasted my drink. You can attest to it."

You hummed, raising both of your hands up in the air. "Testify."

He grinned in response and put his hands inside the pockets of his jeans. As you looked at him studying each photo you took, you could tell he didn't want to comment anything on his career path. Peter did say Tony Stark, his adoptive father and Peter's stepfather, just gave Bucky a share of his hotel until Bucky started running it on his own. You assumed Bucky just took it out of the goodness of this Tony Stark, for adopting him and caring for him. But the real reason for why Bucky took the chance, you may never know. Even though he was an open book, there were a few chapters in him that seemed intentionally hazy, as if he didn't want other people to read them. If Peter had anything to know about these "hidden chapters" in his life, you didn't know. It looked like Bucky would just tell Peter all his wild stories but not the stories about serious matters in his life. But of course, you were just getting this observation out of the back of his head and some of his body language.

"Peter looks so happy here." Bucky commented, breaking the uncomfortable silence. "These his colleagues?"

"That was the first time he went out with his colleagues." You replied while approaching him. You stood beside him and looked at the photo. It truly felt like you and Bucky were standing in a deserted museum. "They had a pretty good time but not me. They made such a mess that night. It brought me back to when Peter would go home drunk back in college."

"Peter? Drunk in college?"

"Dead drunk. Apparently, he learned that from you." The moment these words slipped out of your mouth, a wave of panic washed over your body as the expressions on Bucky's face changed. A frown started to form. His jaw immediately clenched. His breathing became heavier each second. The uncomfortable silence deafened. "Oh god, Bucky, I'm sorry. Learned wasn't the right word. What I meant to say was -- "

"I'm hungry."

His short reply sent me into a whirl of confusion. "I'm sorry?"

"Are you hungry?"

"I -- "

"'Cause I'm hungry. Come, let's go get something to eat."

"Bucky, listen to me."

"I did." His voice faltered. "I heard you."

"But that wasn't what I exactly meant, y'know. I mean, come on, everyone experiments in college. Partying, getting drunk, all that kind of crap -- it's all normal!"

"That's not exactly how you put it earlier." He replied, suddenly facing you. His body towered over yours. "I believe what you said was he learned it from me?"

"I didn't mean that you taught him, it's just... Come on, Bucky, with all those wild stories of you -- "

"What are you trying to say, y/n?"

"Peter has a very curious mind, especially back in college. He jumped on every opportunity he had once he's offered a new thing or a new experience. Your wild stories would always pop out every time he's drunk or just some random nights really." you released an exasperated sigh. "Look, Bucky, the point is, he was just curious. He wanted to know what and how you felt during those wild times. It's not your fault. If anything, it's his. Peter may be smart but he's a much bigger dumbass. Even you should know that. You've lived with him since he was, what, in high school?"

Bucky raised his eyebrows, a grin slowly forming on his lips. "You know, I'm starting to think you're not his best friend. Talking behind his back."

"I say much harsher things to him to his face, don't worry." You smiled. "But I do love Peter even though he's a pain in the ass. We've been through many ups and downs, him and I. It's kind of what binds us together. And hey, him constantly drinking is none of your fault, alright? It's his." You assured Bucky once more. "He can really be a big dumbass."

He nodded and took out his hands from his pockets then crossed his arms across his chest. "I'm glad to hear he has you. Though, I'm quite surprised you two haven't dated yet."

You nervously chuckled then walked away from him . "What makes you say that?"

"If I were roommates with a girl, I would've slept with her the first day."

"I doubt you'd even have a girl as your roommate." You snorted. "How are you gonna get her out of the apartment?"

The bar was filled with Bucky's roaring laughter. "I like your sense of humor, y/n. No wonder why Peter likes you."

"What?" You stopped on your tracks and turned around.

"I meant, y'know, no wonder why you're still around."

You raised an eyebrow. "That poses more questions than answers, Barnes."

"He likes you as a best friend, is what I meant."

Your tummy started churning once more but you doubted Bucky had heard that with the groan coming out of his mouth after he bumped his toe on one of the tables.

"Hey, is lunch still on the table?"

[writer-ish]

25 is cute ♥️

cliche tropes + prompts list #25. Wrapping arms around them when they make breakfast

“Shit, fuck—” Brooke hissed quietly as her hand made contact with the hot pan. “Ow.” She sucked on the part that stung, just below her thumb.

She had no more chances left. This was her fourth egg out of the carton. 

It should’ve been a no brainer—two eggs over-medium with some crispy bacon. The toast waited patiently to be pushed down into the toaster at the final moments so as not to become too burnt.

How did he always make it look so easy?

“Flip,” she commanded in a whisper, flopping her hand forward, the handle of the small frying pan caught tightly in her grasp. The egg, with its crispy brown edges and shiny yellow yoke, slid morosely back and forth. “Flip, damn you.”

The first two had burnt. To a crisp. Even when she’d tried to lower the heat, it was evidently too late. No take backs on temperature choice. After that mishap, she decided to only do one at a time for the next two. Just in case.

The third had had a flip error. She looked sheepishly at the stained surface of the stove, mentally reminding herself to scrub it better later.

Fourth time was a charm. Maybe if she piled enough bacon on his plate, he wouldn’t notice there was only one.

She mentally and physically prepared herself to attempt another flip, when she felt two strong arms go around her waist and a pair of lips press into the top of her head.

“What,” a groggy voice inquired close to her ear, “in god’s name are you doing?”

Brooke inwardly groaned, her shoulders drooping. Busted. 

“It was supposed to be a surprise,” she muttered, defeated. 

He straightened and looked around the kitchen and she could suddenly, horrifyingly see it through his eyes. The open egg carton, the toast crumbs on the counter, the egg splatter on the stove, and the acrid smell of burning—

“The bacon!” She quickly swung open the oven door and, grabbing the nearest dishtowel, attempted to pull the tray of extra-extra crispy bacon out of the stove. “Ow, ow, owwww—” She dropped the hot pan onto the elements with a clatter and threw the towel down in frustration. 

“Hey.” Ethan drew her close with a muffled laugh, resting his cheek on her head. “It’s alright.” 

“No, it’s not alright, I’m a doctor for chrissakes, I should be able to flip a fucking egg without—” 

“Here.” Turning her around gently, he reached for the pan and placed it in her hand. Then, he put his hand on top of hers so they were holding the handle together. “Ready?” 

She nodded, eyes fixated on the lone, sizzling egg, but body humming with his nearness - the planes of his torso against her back, his arm flush against hers, his large, warm hand enveloping both the handle and her hand together. His other hand rested gently on her hip, thumb absently stroking the strip of bare skin between her pyjama bottoms and her t-shirt. 

In one fluid flick of his wrist, the previously uncooperative egg soared elegantly up in the air and dropped gracefully back into the pan, yoke side down. 

Bastard, Brooke thought ungraciously, glaring at the traitorous breakfast food as Ethan lowered the heat and placed the pan back on the stove.

Ethan leaned in and dropped a kiss on the side of her neck. “Next time, just leave breakfast to me.” He gave her an unchararacteristically lopsided grin before going over to the push the toast down and pulling out two extra slices for her. 

She loved him the mornings. It was almost as though the shield he normally wielded was diminished slightly; all his rough edges just a little bit softer as he slowly woke up and prepared for the day. Once he was at the hospital, it was all business and stoicism and humourless professionalism. So she coveted those moments before all that, when she could see him in his bare feet and tousled hair, the sleep still in his eyes and the half smile warming his face. 

Without fully realizing what she was doing, she took a few steps across the kitchen and wrapped her arms around him from behind, pressing her lips to his bare back. 

“I just wanted to do something nice for you,” she muttered against his skin, not even sure he could hear her. 

“So you probably should have chosen something you were good at,” he responded pragmatically. 

She swatted at him. “Jerk.” 

He responded by flashing her a grin over his shoulder, those wintery blue eyes filled with laughter. “Make the coffee?”

“Fine,” she grumbled reluctantly. “This counts as the nice thing, then.” 

He turned around and leaned against the counter, arms crossed over his bare chest, his gaze running warmly up and down her body until she found herself feeling a little flushed.

“Yeah,” he said softly. “It counts.”