#like ooh my lawn is better than his lawn

[jeffrrandell]

Rants from instagram. The neighbours and Edds gang have such a perfect dynamic set up to me. Like Edd and Eduardo are just as goofy as the other, and they clearly both want to play along just to create a scene like they're in a movie. They each have things they could admire each other for, be jealous about, and this goes for the others and their counterparts too. To me, they're so similar it's basically just them from another universe, ones who have learned to deal with things and express themselves differently. But they can't be too similar (as in show they are,) and they are aware of their dynamic and need everyone to think they're like any antagonist or protagonist who battle each other in any show. Even if they became friends overtime, they will always be pushy show offs towards each other. The same guy, but definitely NOT the same guy. I just love it.

[mypoisonedvine]

eddie munson with 90. "is it just me, or does your celebrity crush look a lot like me?", with fem!reader

I didn't use the exact line of dialogue just the concept, I hope you don't mind! I love this request though!!

warnings: just fluff and a wee bit of angst along the way, friends to lovers, 'unrequited' love (the love is requited they are just stupid)

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

"Admit it-- you'd let him do anything he wanted to you," Robin laughed teasingly.

"Honestly? Yeah, probably," you agreed as you bit your lip.

"What if he's, like, a freak or something?" she wondered. "Like what if he's into something really fucked up?"

"It would still be hot, 'cause it's him," you decided.

"So if he came up to you right now, and said 'hey, you're cute, wanna come back to my place and take a bath with me in a tub of mayonnaise?' you would..." she prompted.

"I would ask if he knows where I can get bulk mayonnaise for a discount," you grinned.

"Ew! You hate mayonnaise!" she grimaced.

"Yes, but I love him," you explained.

Just then, Eddie hopped up to your table, straddling one of the attached benches with a smile. "Woah, who do we love?" he asked.

"Eddie, you can't just barge in to a private conversation," Robin corrected with a frown.

"Private? I can hear the girlish giggling from the theater room," he scoffed. "Besides, I wanna know the gossip. You've got it bad for somebody?"

He looked around the room as if he would figure out who it was by examining the students, but Robin shook her head. "It's not, like, a real guy. It's her celebrity crush."

"And future husband," you beamed.

"Would I know who it was if you said it?" Eddie wondered.

You thought about not telling him, but it didn't really matter, because Robin blurted it out. "Probably-- it's Kirk Hammett, from Metallica."

Eddie's eyes went wide for a second, before he grinned and leaned one arm against the table. "I guess I should take that as a compliment."

You laughed softly in confusion. "What?"

"You know-- 'cause I look like him!" he announced excitedly.

Robin tilted her head as he stared at Eddie. "Oh yeah!" she said. "You know, now that you say it--"

"No," you shook your head, "you're not like him."

"Yes I am!" he laughed, though it sounded more like a sound of bewilderment than amusement. "Come on, are you serious? People say it all the time!"

"Well, they probably just say it cause you play guitar."

"And the hair?!" he yelped, shaking his mane around for emphasis which made Robin snort.

"Lots of guys have long hair nowadays!" you rolled your eyes. "That doesn't mean anything. Robin's blonde, doesn't mean she looks like Goldie Hawn!"

"Wait, I don't?" Robin asked sarcastically, feigning offence.

"It's not just that-- you seriously don't see it?" Eddie pouted. "Look at me-- I mean, really look at me."

You did, narrowing your eyes slightly as you examined him; he held his arms out as if to show himself to you, which did give you a better view of his arms and ink, but you frowned and shook your head. "I just see Eddie," you shrugged.

He deflated a bit. "Right, well-- anyways, did we get Robin to share her celebrity crush?"

"That was the next order of business," you explained with a smirk, and you both put your attention on the girl across the table.

"Nope-- my lips are sealed," Robin assured.

"If we can guess her name, will you tell us?" Eddie asked.

"No, I'll never--" she started to insist, but the two of you were blurting out names already.

"Brooke Shields!" "Kim Basinger!" "Ooh, Annie Lennox!"

"Guys," Robin groaned, rolling her eyes, but she was starting to blush, too.

~

You and Eddie were sitting side by side on the ground, backs leaned up against the outer wall of the school; his knees were bent and his arms were draped over them, while you sat with your legs overlapping as you tied wildflowers from the lawn into a daisy chain.

"You're quiet," you noticed.

"So? There's not much to say," he replied.

"When has that ever stopped you from running your mouth?" you smirked, looking up at him, but he wasn't smiling back at you so yours sank. "You've been quiet for a while."

"Guess I'm not that peppy today," he decided, staring forward at his fingers as he mindlessly spun one of his rings around.

"Not today," you explained, "like, all week. Is everything okay?"

He shrugged a little as if to say, it doesn't matter.

"Seriously, just talk to me," you pleaded. "Whatever it is, I wanna help."

"You can't help, okay?" he snapped,

"I can't stop thinking about what you said," he admitted. "When you and Robin were talking about your celebrity crush--"

"Listen, Eddie, I'm sorry if I don't see a resemblance, but it's not that big of a deal--"

"No, no, not that," he sighed, "I meant... what you said after. That you just see Eddie."

You knit your eyebrows together, not sure what he was getting at. He finally looked back at you, and the sadness in his eyes made your breath catch.

"That's all you're ever gonna see, isn't it?"

You sighed a little, looking away for a moment. "Ed, not this again--"

"C'mon, babe, you know I'm crazy about you," he sighed, tilting his head until it leaned against the wall behind him. "And I know every excuse you've given me-- you're not ready for a relationship, you don't want to ruin what we have, you don't want to bring me into your messed up brain-- but if you're into this guy who looks like me but you don't want me then... then it must just be that I'm awful, right?"

"Eddie, no," you denied with a pout, but he scoffed and looked ahead again.

"It's okay, I get it," he sighed. "I wouldn't wanna date me either. You deserve all the fancy stuff, y'know? Getting driven to cool dates in a nice car, hanging out at his house and not, you know, a dirty old trailer--"

"I don't want all that stuff," you assured, moving in closer to him. "I want somebody sweet and fun and smart--"

"I knew it's 'cause I can't fuckin' graduate," he mumbled, but you put your hand on his arm to get his attention.

"Eddie, you're not listening to me," you scolded. "It's not you, it's me. And I know that's a cliche but it's true."

"How can it not be me?" he rolled his eyes. "I'm a freak, and a fuck-up, and a flunk-out, and you're basically perfect--"

"Oh my god, you're, like, my dream guy, okay?!" you spat out, louder than you meant to. He finally shut up, and looked at you like he could finally see it-- like he finally knew. "I always liked you," you continued, a little softer and shier than before, "but I knew if I... if we ever actually, you know, went for it, I'd just mess it all up. And you're the last person I'd ever want to hurt--"

He cut you off with a kiss: a sudden, sweet, hungry kiss that caught you off-guard for a second before you melted into it.

It wasn't that one kiss could make all your fears about a relationship go away... but it sure could make them seem a lot less important. And it definitely could help convince you that it was worth the risk.

When he pulled back, he held your face even as you tried to look away to hide it. "Sorry," he said, taking his hands away slowly, "I just had to do that."

"Oh, Ed," you hummed, "you're so cute I could die."

He got a little red in the face, which only made the cuteness more apparent. "Aw hell," he snorted, scratching the back of his neck nervously. "You think I'm cute 'cause I look like Kirk?"

"No," you smiled, "I like Kirk 'cause he looks like you."

[mybutcheredtongue]

I'll Love You 'til the Grass Around My Gravestone is Deceased

post azkaban sirius black x fem!reader

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX (see full series list here)

1994

I've just been attacked by dementors and I might be expelled from Hogwarts. I want to know what's going on and when I'm going to get out of here.

That's what Harry had written in his note to you and Sirius — and also in notes to Ron and Hermione too.

The pair of you had been livid, of course — "this is what happens when he's left alone with those people!" — and three days later, you stand on the doorstep to Number 4, Privet Drive, Little Whinging with a group of other Order members.

"Alohomora," you say, pushing the door open. You make your way into the hallway, all the lights turned off.

Tonks lets out a whistle at a stack of antique decorative plates on a table beside her. "Wow, look at these plates, they're proper fancy! Just look — "

She immediately drops it with a crash.

"Oops," she says, repairing it with a wave of her wand.

You make your way up the stairs, unlocking the door with your wand while the others wait at the bottom of the stairs. Harry slowly emerges from the room, poking his head out the door, wand clutched tightly in his hand.

"Lower your wand, boy, before you take someone's eye out," Moody growls.

Harry doesn't lower his wand. "Professor Moody?"

"I don't know so much about 'Professor'. Never got round to much teaching, did I? Get down here, we want to see you properly."

Harry still doesn't move, clearly wary of your party.

"It's alright, Harry," you say gently. "We've come to take you away."

"P-professor?" he says disbelievingly. "Is that you?"

"Why are we all standing in the dark?" Tonks says. "Lumos."

The tip of Tonks's wand flares, illuminating the hall with light. You beam at the sight of your godson, already looking older than when you last seen him.

You stride forward and wrap him in a tight hug, beaming. "Good to see you, Harry."

"Yeah, you too..."

"Ooh, he looks just like I thought he would," Tonks says excitedly. "Wotcher, Harry!"

"Yeah, I see what you mean, Remus," Kingsley Shacklebolt says from the back. "He looks exactly like James."

"Except the eyes," Dedalus Diggle wheezes. "Lily's eyes."

Moody squints suspiciously at Harry, his magical eye pointed towards him searchingly. "Are you quite sure it's him? It'd be a nice lookout if we bring back some Death Eater personating him. We ought to ask him something only the real Potter would know. Unless anyone brought any Veritaserum?"

"Harry, what form does your patronus take?" Remus asks.

"A stag," Harry answers nervously.

"That's him, Mad-Eye."

Harry descends the stairs, still looking a bit confused, stowing his wand in the back pocket of his jeans as he goes.

"Don't put your wand there, boy!" Moody roars immediately. "What if it ignited? Better wizards than you have lost a buttocks, you know!"

"Who do you know that's lost a buttock?" Tonks asks curiously

"Never you mind, just keep your wand out of your back pocket!" he barks, hobbling off to the kitchen. "Elementary wand safety, nobody bothers about it anymore..."

Wow, how many times did you hear that during your training?

"And I saw that," Moody adds irritably as you roll your eyes at the ceiling.

Remus holds out his hand and shakes Harry's. "How are you?"

"Fine..." Harry replies, looking as though he's still in shock at what's going on.

"I'm — you're really lucky the Dursleys are out..." he mumbles.

"Lucky, ha!" Tonks exclaims, grinning. "It was me that lured them out of the way. Sent a letter by Muggle post telling they'd been short-listed for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition. They're heading off to the prize-giving right now...or so they think."

She winks at you and you smile back, remembering the side-splitting laughter that had infected you as the two of you cooked up that idea a few nights previous.

"We are leaving, aren't we?" Harry asks. "Soon?"

"Almost at once," Remus says. "We're just waiting for the all-clear."

"Where are we going? The Burrow?" Harry asks hopefully.

You shake your head. "No, not the Burrow." You follow Moody into the kitchen, the group of Order members walking in after you. "Too risky. We're set up headquarters somewhere else, somewhere undetectable."

Moody sits at the kitchen table swigging from a hip flask, taking in the many electrical appliances in the Dursleys' kitchen.

"This is Alastor Moody, Harry," Remus tells, pointing toward him.

"Yeah, I know."

"And this is Nymphadora — "

"Don't call me Nymphadora, Remus," Tonks says with a shudder. "It's Tonks."

" — Nymphadora Tonks, who prefers to be known by her surname only," Remus finishes, glancing at Tonks.

She folds her arms. "So would you if your fool of a mother called you Nymphadora."

"And this is Kingsley Shacklebolt," Remus continues. "Elphias Doge, Dedalus Diggle — "

"We've met before," squeaks Diggle, dropping his top hat excitedly.

" — Emmeline Vance — Sturgis Podmore — and Hestia Jones."

Harry nods awkwardly at each of them in turn.

"A surprising number of people volunteered to come get you," Remus says, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Yeah, well, the more the better," Moody says darkly. "We're your guard, Potter."

"We're just waiting for the signal to tell us it's safe to set off," Remus explains, glancing out the kitchen window. "We've got about fifteen minutes."

"Very clean, aren't they, these Muggles?" Tonks says as she looks around the kitchen with heat interest. "My dad's Muggle-born and he's a right old slob. I suppose it varies, just like with wizards?"

"Uh — yeah," says Harry, turning to you. "What's going on, I haven't heard anything from anyone, what's Vol — ?"

Several of the witch and wizards make odd hissing noises and Moody growls, "Shut up!"

"What?"

"We're not discussing anything here, it's too risky," Moody explains, looking around him warily with his magical eye.

"We can talk about it once we're back at headquarters," you say.

"How're we getting there?"

"Brooms," Remus replies. "Only way. You're too young to apparate, they'll be watching the Floor Network, and it's more than our life's worth to set up an unauthorised Portkey."

"She says you're a good flier," Kingsley says, gesturing to you.

"He's excellent," you reply proudly, smiling at Harry.

Remus glances down at his watch. "You better go and get packed, Harry, we want to be ready to go when the signal comes."

"I'll come and help you," Tonks says brightly, following Harry upstairs to his bedroom.

Remus pulls an envelope and piece of parchment out of his pocket, bending over the kitchen table to start scribbling something down. You walk around the room, looking at different photos of the Dursleys.

Baby Dudley, with a proud Petunia and Vernon standing over him; Petunia and Vernon on their wedding day; several more photos of Dudley growing up — there's an obvious absence of Harry. If a stranger were to walk into this room without knowing anything about the Dursleys beforehand, they would never know Harry even exists.

"What a strange device!" Podmore exclaims, curiously opening and closing the kitchen microwave while Kingsley stands behind him. He waves you over. "What does it do?"

Because of your Muggle father, you are often questioned on Muggle items and customs — though usually by Arthur Weasley.

"It cooks food," you reply. "It's called a microwave."

"A microwave..." Kingsley repeats thoughtfully, opening the door and peering inside with immense interest.

Nearby, Hestia laughs at a potato peeler that she came across in one of the drawers. You give her a look, confused as to what could possibly be so humourous about a potato peeler, but she just continues to snicker and giggle as she turns it over in her hands.

"Excellent," Remus says when Harry and Tonks return, Harry's trunk bobbing along in the air behind them. "We've got about a minute, I think. We should probably get out into the garden so we're ready. Harry, I've left a note telling your aunt and uncle not to worry — "

"They won't," says Harry.

"That you're safe — "

"That'll just depress them."

" — and you'll see them next summer."

"Do I have to?"

Remus smiles but doesn't answer.

"Come here, boy," Moody says gruffly, beckoning Harry towards him with his wand. "I need to Disillusion you."

Harry's brows knit nervously. "You need to what?"

"Disillusionment Charm," Moody replies, raising his wand. "Lupin says you've got an Invisibility Cloak, but it won't stay on while we're flying; this'll disguise you better. Here you go — "

He raps Harry hard on the top of his head and Harry's body takes on the exact colour and texture of the kitchen unit behind him, like some sort of human chameleon.

"Nice one, Mad-Eye," Tonks says appreciatively, and Harry looks down in surprise, spinning in place as he surveys his new look.

"Come on," Moody says, moving towards the back door and unlocking it with his wand.

You all step out onto the Dursleys' impeccably well-kept lawn. It looks practically untouched — a contender for the All-England Best-Kept Suburban Lawn Competition indeed.

"Clear night," Moody grumbles, peering up into the dark sky above. "Could've done with a bit more cloud cover. Right, you," he barks at Harry, pointing his finger at him, "we're going to be flying in close formation. Tonks'll be right in front of you. The rest'll be circling us. We don't break ranks for anything, got me? If one of us is killed — "

"Is that likely?" Harry asks apprehensively, but Moody ignores him. When he turns his worried eyes to yours you shake your head, resisting the urge to roll your eyes at Moody's grimness.

" — the others keep flying, don't stop, don't break ranks. If they take out all of us and you survive, Harry, the rear guard are standing by to take over; keep flying east and they'll join you."

"Stop being so cheerful, Mad-Eye, he'll think we're not taking this seriously," says Tonks as she straps Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage into a harness hanging from her broom.

"I'm just telling the boy the plan," Moody growls. "Our job's to deliver him safely to headquarters and if we die in the attempt — "

"No one's going to die," you say calmly, receiving a doubtful grumble from Moody in the process.

"Mount your brooms, that's the first signal!" Remus says sharply, pointing into the sky at the shower of bright red sparks flaring high above you.

You swing your leg over your broom — your dusty old Cleansweep Seven that you've had since you were fifteen and that has seen more of the inside of your garden shed than the open air — and wrap your hands around the flaking handle. You're a pretty average flier — nothing compared to James, of course...but who could ever compare to him?

"Second signal, let's go!" Remus says loudly, as this time green sparks explode into the air far above you.

You kick off hard from the ground. The cool night air rushes into you as you rise higher into the air, the houses and buildings of Little Whinging becoming smaller and smaller as your group ascends. Looking up, the sky is vast and clear, revealing the billions of gleaming stars twinkling above. You can't help the small rush of giddiness that sparks in you at the sight of it.

"Hard left, hard left, there's a Muggle looking up!" Moody shouts over the wind, and your circling group follows Tonks as she swerves, Harry close behind. "We need more height...give it another quarter of a mile!"

"Bear southeast and keep climbing, there's some low cloud ahead we can lose ourselves in!" calls Moody.

"We're not going through clouds!" Tonks shouts angrily. "We'll get soaked, Mad-Eye!"

You're glad to hear this, your fingers turning numb around the handle of your broom in the chill.

You alter your course every now and then according to Moody's instructions, you and the rest of the guard circling Harry and Tonks as you move.

"We ought to double back for a bit, to make sure we're not being followed!" Moody shouts.

"Don't be mad! We're nearly there now!" You yell, recognising the streets hurtling past below. "If we keep going off course, we won't have to worry about being followed because Harry'll have died from hypothermia by then!"

"Time to start the descent!" Remus orders. "Follow Tonks, Harry!"

You dive, flying lower and lower until you touch down on a quiet street with several less-than-welcoming houses lining it.

"Where are we?" Harry asks.

"In a minute," Remus says quietly, looking at Moody expectantly as he rummages around in his cloak.

"Got it," he mutters, pulling out Dumbledore's trusty Deluminator and clicking it. The nearest streetlamp goes out with a pop. Moody clicks the Deluminator again and one by one each lamp on the street distinguishes, leaving the faint glow of lit rooms behind curtains the only source of light on the street.

"Borrowed it from Dumbledore," Moody explains to Harry, pocketing the Deluminator once more. "That'll take care of any Muggles looking out the window, see? Now, come on, quick."

Together, your group makes it towards houses Number 11 and Number 13. Even though he's been Disillusioned, you can still see Harry's form shivering with the cold, and you make a slow sweeping motion down the length of his body with your wand, muttering a quiet warming spell under your breath. You hear him breathe a sigh of relief.

"Thanks."

Remus tuts quietly under his breath. "No spell for the rest of us, then?"

You smile. "You're not my godson."

Even in the dark, you can see him rolling his eyes at you.

"Here," Moody says, thrusting a piece of paper towards Harry. "Read quickly and memorise."

"What's the Order of the — ?"

"Not here, boy!" Moody snarls immediately, his eyes wide. "Wait 'til we're inside!"

He snatches the parchment out of Harry's hand and lights it on fire, dropping it to the ground, the edges curling in the flame.

"But where's — ?"

"Think about what you've just memorised," Remus says quietly.

After a moment, the run-down door of the Black house emerges in the space between 11 and 13, followed soon by grimy walls and windows.

"Come on, hurry," Moody growls, prodding Harry in the back.

You tap the door with your wand. Loud metallic clicks and squeaks sound behind the door before it creaks open, revealing the darkened hallway beyond. "Get in quick, Harry. But don't go far inside and don't touch anything."

You shuffle into the hallway behind Harry, casting a wary eye to the curtained portrait at the end of the hall, waiting for Moody to finish returning the light to the streetlamps before closing the door behind him.

"Here." Moody raps Harry hard over the head with his wand, lifting the Disillusionment Charm and returning Harry to his usual, visible state. Probably could've been a bit more gentle with it, but whatever.

"Now stay still, everyone, while I give us a bit of light around here," Moody says quietly. With a soft hissing noise, the old-fashioned gas lamps flicker to life, illuminating the depressingly drab hallway you're standing in.

Hurried footsteps alert you to Mrs Weasley's entrance, emerging from the basement door with a smile on her face as she makes her way toward you.

"Oh, Harry, it's lovely to see you!" she whispers, pulling Harry into a tight hug before holding him at arm's length and examining him critically. "You're looking peaky; you need feeding up, but you'll have to wait a bit for dinner, I'm afraid..."

She turns to you and the rest of the Order members and whispers urgently, "He's just arrived, the meeting's started..."

Everyone starts to make their way through the door, and Harry moves to follow Remus when you gently hold him back, a hand on his shoulder. "Sorry, Harry. Order members only. We'll talk later, yeah?"

"Ron and Hermione are waiting upstairs, you can wait with them until the meeting's over, and then we'll all have dinner," Mrs Weasley whispers to him. "And keep your voice down in the hall."

"Why?"

"I don't want to wake anything up."

"What d'you — ?"

"I'll explain later, I've got to hurry, I'm supposed to be at the meeting — I'll just show you where you're sleeping."

You give Harry and Mrs Weasley a wave before heading down into the basement, opening the door as quietly as possible and slipping into your usual spot beside Sirius at the table while Dumbledore speaks to Remus and Moody about Harry. You listen as Dumbledore outlines plans and guard duty: looks like you're on tomorrow night. Brilliant.

Snape sits across from you, and when your eyes meet he gives you a near-imperceptible head shake. Nothing on Wormtail yet. Then his eyes shift to hatred as he wrinkles his nose at Sirius beside you, and you notice that your husband is currently pretending to scratch his nose with just his middle finger extended, directly in Snape's eyeline.

Of course.

When the meeting is finally over, most of the Order members file out of the kitchen and upstairs, speaking in hushed voices as they enter the hall. You pull one of the scrolls of parchment from the middle of the table into your hands, skimming your eyes over a plan of the Department of Mysteries, exits and entrances marked in red.

Just then, you hear a clatter and a great, thankfully muffled, screeching starts from the hall. You sigh, rubbing your temples, and move to stand up and deal with your darling mother-in-law when Sirius gently pushes you back into your chair, standing up.

"I'll handle it."

Bill and Mr Weasley sit close by, heads pressed together as they mull over parchment and documents. After a minute or two, the screaming stops and Sirius reopens the door, Harry following close behind with Remus and the rest of the kids.

Mrs Weasley clears her throat and Mr Weasley jumps to his feet, hurrying over to give Harry's hand a shake. "Harry! Good to see you!"

Bill starts to try and roll up the scrolls and you move to help him, handing him the plan of the Department of Mysteries.

"Journey all right, Harry?" he asks. "Mad-Eye didn't make you come via Greenland, did he?"

"He tried," Tonks says, striding over to help you and immediately knocking over a candle, sending the wax spilling onto the parchment. "Oh, no — sorry — "

"Here," you say, waving your wand and muttering a spell to repair the parchment. In the light your wand casts, you spy Harry trying to catch a glimpse of what's written on the parchment.

Mrs Weasley sees him too, and clicks her tongue disapprovingly, snatching up the scrolls and shoving them into Bill's arms. "This sort of thing ought to be cleared away promptly at the end of meetings."

She sweeps off towards a dresser to start unloading dinner plates and you grab a cloth and wipe down the table for dinner.

"Sit down, Harry," Sirius says, retaking his usual spot at the table. "You've met Mundungus, haven't you?"

Mundungus, who has been snoring away at the end of the table, stirs and jolts awake. "Someone say m' name? I agree with Sirius..."

He raises his hand in the air as though voting, and you snort.

"Meeting's over, Dung," you say with a smile, giving his back a poke as you pass by with more plates. "Harry's arrived."

"Eh?" He peers at Harry before his face lights in recognition. "Blimey, so 'e 'as! Yeah...you all right, Harry?"

"Yeah."

Mundungus fumbles in his pockets and produces his trusty black pipe, lighting the tip with his wand and taking a long pull from it. A cloud of green smoke thickens the air around him instantly.

"Owe you an apology," he grunts.

"For the last time, Mundungus," calls Mrs Weasley in frustration, "will you please not smoke that thing in the kitchen, especially not when we're about to eat!"

"Ah. Right, sorry, Molly."

He stuffs the pipe back into his pocket, with slight reluctance.

Soon, a series of heavy knives are chopping meat and vegetables on their own, supervised by Mr Weasley, while Mrs Weasley stirs a cauldron dangling over the fire. Mundungus, Sirius, and Harry are talking at the table, and from the few snippets you overhear you can tell Sirius is complaining about being stuck inside with nothing to do — which you don't blame him for.

"At least you've known what's been going on," Harry says bracingly.

"Oh, yeah," Sirius says sarcastically. "Listening to Snape's reports, having to take all his snide hints that he's out there risking his life while I'm sat on my backside here having a nice comfortable time...asking me how the cleaning's going — "

"What cleaning?" Harry asks.

"Trying to make this place fit for human habitation," Sirius replies, waving a hand around the dismal kitchen. "No one's lived here for ten years, not since my mother died, unless you count her old house-elf, and he's gone round the twist, hasn't cleaned anything in years — "

"Sirius?" Mundungus pipes up, eyes focused on a silver goblet in his hands, examining it with immense interest. "This solid silver, mate?"

"Yes," he answers, surveying the goblet with obvious distaste. "Finest fifteenth-century goblin-wrought silver, embossed with the Black family crest."

"That'd come off, though," Mundungus mutters thoughtfully, scrubbing the crest with his cuff.

"Fred — George — NO, JUST CARRY THEM!" Mrs Weasley shrieks.

Fred and George have bewitched a large cauldron of stew, an iron flagon of butterbeer, and a heavy wooden breadboard, to hurtle through the air towards the table. Harry, Sirius, and Mundungus leap away, just in time to avoid the pot of stew that skids the length of the table before stopping at the end, the flagon of butterbeer that falls with a crash and spills over the surface, dripping onto the floor, and the sharp knife that slips from the breadboard and sticks in the table where Sirius' hand had been moments before.

"FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE!" Mrs Weasley screams, face red with fury. "THERE WAS NO NEED — I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS — JUST BECAUSE YOU'RE ALLOWED TO USE MAGIC NOW DOESN'T MEAN YOU HAVE TO WHIP YOUR WANDS OUT FOR EVERY TINY LITTLE THING!"

"We were just trying to save a bit of time!" Fred says, hurrying forward and wrenching the knife out of the table. "Sorry, Sirius, mate — didn't mean to — "

Harry and Sirius are laughing, and you turn your face away to hide your laughter from the furious Mrs Weasley. Mundungus struggles to his feet, swearing and muttering under his breath.

"Boys," Mr Weasley steps in, lifting the stew pot back into the middle of the table. "Your mother's right, you're supposed to show a sense of responsibility now that you've come of age — "

"None of your brothers caused this sort of trouble!" Mrs Weasley snaps at the twins, slamming a fresh flagon of butterbeer onto the table while you clean away the mess from the previous with your wand. "Bill didn't feel the need to Apparate every few feet! Charlie didn't charm everything he met! Percy — "

She stops dead, catching her breath with a frightened look at her husband. Mentions of Percy are not particularly welcomed in the house at the moment, after Percy and Mr Weasley had an especially heated argument and Percy chose his job at the Ministry over his own family.

"Let's eat," Bill says quickly.

For a few minutes, there is silence in the room but for the scraping of plates and cutlery and the creak of chairs as everyone settles down for the meal. You sit beside Sirius, who smiles and pulls your chair closer to his as you eat.

He tugs on the sleeve of your jumper, rolling the fabric between his thumb and forefinger. "I like this, it suits you. You look very pretty."

You scoff, giving him a smile. "Of course you like it, Sirius, it's yours. Anyways, I'm thinking of going back home soon just to collect a few things," you say. "Is there anything you want? I am seriously missing my telescope here — "

A loud burst of laughter drowns out the rest of your words, as Fred, George, Ron, and Mundungus roll around in their chairs.

"...and then," chokes Mundungus, tears running down his face, "and then, if you'll believe it, 'e says to me, 'Dung, where did ya get all them toads from? 'Cause some son of a Bludger's gone and nicked all mine!' And I says, 'Nicked all your toads, Will, what next? So you'll be wanting some more, then?' And if you'll believe me, lads, the gormless gargoyle buys all 'is own toads back off me for twice what 'e paid in the first place — "

"I don't think we need to hear any more of your business dealings thank you very much, Mundungus," Mrs Weasley says sharply.

"Beg pardon, Molly," he answers at once, wiping his face and winking at Harry. "But, you know, Will nicked 'em of Warty Harris in the first place so I wasn't really doing anything wrong — "

"I don't know where you learned about right and wrong, Mundungus, but you seemed to have missed a few crucial lessons," Mrs Weasley says coldly, before shooting a particularly nasty look at Sirius and standing up to fetch a large rhubarb crumble for dessert.

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Mundungus is certainly not the most law-abiding man, but he has his uses.

"Molly doesn't approve of Mundungus," Sirius says quietly to Harry.

"How come he's in the Order?"

"He's useful," Sirius mutters. "Knows all the crooks — "

"Well, he would, seeing as he is one himself," you add, taking a sip from your wine.

Sirius nods. "He's also very loyal to Dumbledore, who helped him out a tight spot once. It pays to have someone like Dung around, he hears things we don't. But Molly thinks inviting him to stay for dinner is going too far. She hasn't forgiven him for slipping off duty when he was supposed to be tailing you."

Several helpings of crumble later, the air in the room moves to a relaxed laziness as you finish telling the story of Remus's first time getting drunk at Hogwarts to Tonks, who giggles and laughs while Remus shakes his head and becomes increasingly interested in his goblet. Sirius's hand rests on your hip, idly drawing circles with his finger.

"I don't — uh — I don't remember that," Remus says, cheeks crimson as he glances at Tonks to see her reaction.

You hum, smiling at him. "Well, I certainly do. "

Tonks smiles appreciatively at Remus, yawning loudly.

"Nearly time for bed, I think," Mrs Weasley says, yawning too.

"Not just yet, Molly," Sirius says, pushing away his empty plate and turning to look at Harry. "You know, I'm surprised at you. I thought the first thing you'd do when you got here would be to start asking questions about Voldemort."

The change in the atmosphere is rapid: Mrs Weasley sits bolt upright, her fists clenched; Remus lowers his goblet warily, eyes meeting yours.

"I did!" Harry says indignantly. "I asked Ron and Hermione but they said we're not allowed in the Order, so — "

"And they're quite right," Mrs Weasley says firmly. "You're too young."

"Since when did someone have to be in the Order of the Phoenix to ask questions?" Sirius asks, raising his eyebrows. "Harry's been trapped in that Muggle house for a month. He's got the right to know what's been happen — "

"Hang on!" George interrupts loudly.

"How come Harry gets his questions answered?" says Fred angrily.

"We've been trying to get stuff out of you for a month and you haven't told us a single stinking thing!"

"You're too young, you're not in the Order," Fred says in a high-pitched imitation of his mother. "Harry's not even of age!"

"It's not my fault you haven't been told what the Order's been doing," Sirius says calmly. "That's your parents' decision. Harry, on the other hand — "

"It's not down to you to decide what's good for Harry!" Mrs Weasley says sharply, a dangerous look on her face. "You haven't forgotten what Dumbledore said, I suppose?"

"Which bit?" His tone is polite, but you spot the familiar tense in his jaw and know that this calmness won't last long.

"The bit about not telling Harry more than he needs to know," Mrs Weasley replies stonily.

Everyone else in the room is dead silent, their eyes flitting between Sirius and Mrs Weasley as though watching a tennis match. You meet Remus's eyes across the table, subtly shaking your head.

"I don't intend to tell him more than he needs to know, Molly," says Sirius. "But he was the one who saw Voldemort come back. He has more right than most to — "

"He's not a member of the Order of the Phoenix!" Mrs Weasley snaps. "He's only fifteen — "

"And he's dealt with as much as most in the Order, and more than some — "

"No one's denying what he's done!" Mrs Weasley's voice rises, her fists trembling with anger. "But he's still — "

"He's not a child!" Sirius says impatiently.

"He's not an adult either! He's not James, Sirius!"

Sirius stares back at Mrs Weasley, poking the inside of his cheek with his tongue. His voice is ice. "I'm perfectly clear who he is, thanks, Molly."

"I'm not sure you are!" Mrs Weasley says hotly. "Sometimes, the way you talk about him, it's as though you think you've got your best friend back!"

"What's wrong with that?" says Harry.

"What's wrong, Harry, is that you are not your father, however much you might look like him! You are still at school and adults responsible for you should not forget it!"

"Meaning I'm an irresponsible godfather?" Sirius demands, his voice rising.

"Meaning you've been known to act rashly — "

"Enough," you say loudly, stopping the two. You inhale deeply. "Harry deserves to know a certain amount. He has been left in the dark for a month, and I have no doubt that he's used this time to come up with a few interesting theories of what's been going on. Don't you think he deserves to know what is true, from us, rather than a muddled version from...others?"

You don't doubt that a few of Fred and George's Extendable Ears have survived Mrs Weasley's purge.

Mrs Weasley looks back at you, breathing deeply. "Well..." she looks around the table for support, but receives none. "Well...I can see that I'm going to be overruled. I'll just say this: Dumbledore must have had his reasons for not wanting Harry to know too much, and speaking as someone who has Harry's best interests at heart — "

"He's not your son," Sirius says quietly.

"He's as good as!" Mrs Weasley snaps back fiercely. Great, just when you thought the argument had come to an end. "Who else has he got?"

You pause, hoping you misheard her.

"He's got us!" Sirius snaps back, gesturing between you and him.

"Yes. The thing is, it's been rather difficult for you to look after him while you've been locked up in Azkaban, hasn't it?"

Immediately, you feel your anger flare and you glare daggers back at her. "It's not like he had a choice, Molly!" You snap defensively. "How could you say something like that — "

"Molly, you're not the only person at this table who cares about Harry," Remus says sharply. "Sirius, sit down."

Sirius, who had begun to rise from his chair, sinks slowly back into his seat, face white.

"I think Harry ought to be allowed a say in this," Remus continues calmly. "He's old enough to decide for himself."

"I want to know what's been going on," Harry says at once.

Mrs Weasley looks at him for a moment, swallowing harshly. "Very well. Ginny — Hermione — Ron — Fred — George — I want you out of this kitchen, now."

Instant uproar.

"We're of age!" Fred and George cry together.

"If Harry's allowed, why can't I?" Ron shouts.

"Mum, I want to!" Ginny wails.

"NO!" shouts Mrs Weasley, her chest heaving as she stands. "I absolutely forbid — "

"Molly, you can't stop Fred and George," Mr Weasley says wearily. "They are of age."

"They're still at school — "

"But they're legally adults now."

"I — alright, fine, Fred and George can stay, but Ron — "

"Harry'll tell me and Hermione everything you say anyway!" Ron says heatedly. "Won't — won't you?" He adds uncertainly, meeting Harry's eyes.

"'Course I will."

Ron and Hermione beam.

"Fine!" Mrs Weasley shouts. "Fine! Ginny — BED!"

You hear Ginny stomping and raging at her mother all the way up the stairs, awakening Walburga's portrait when she reaches the hall. You sigh, hurrying off to force the curtains shut over the crazy woman with immense effort. You return, shutting the door to the stairs behind you, and fall back into your seat with a heavy sigh.

"Okay, Harry...what do you want to know?" Sirius speaks.

"Where's Voldemort? What's he doing? I've been trying to watch the Muggle news," Harry asks immediately, "and there hasn't been anything that looks like him yet, no funny deaths or anything — "

"That's because there haven't been any suspicious deaths yet," says Sirius. "Not as far as we know, anyway...and we do know quite a lot."

"More than he thinks we do, anyway," Remus adds.

"How come he's stopped killing people?" Harry asks.

"He doesn't want to draw attention to himself at the moment," you answer. "It would be dangerous for him. His comeback didn't quite come off the way he wanted it to, you see. He messed it up."

"Or rather, you messed it up for him," Remus says with a satisfied smile.

"How?" Harry questions, perplexed.

"You weren't supposed to survive!" Sirius says. "Nobody apart from his Death Eaters were supposed to know he'd come back. But you survived to bear witness."

"And the very last person he wanted alerted to his return the moment he got back was Dumbledore," says Remus. "And you made sure Dumbledore knew at once."

"How has that helped?"

"Are you kidding?" Bill says incredulously. "Dumbledore was the only one You-Know-Who was ever afraid of!"

"Thanks to you, Dumbledore was able to recall the Order of the Phoenix the day Voldemort returned," says Sirius.

"So what's the Order been doing?" asks Harry, looking around the table at everyone.

"Working as hard as we can to make sure Voldemort can't carry out his plans," Sirius answers.

"How do you know what his plans are?"

"Dumbledore's got a shrewd idea," says Remus, "and Dumbledore's shrewd ideas normally turn out to be accurate."

"So what does Dumbledore reckon he's planning?"

"Well, firstly, he wants to build up his army again," says Sirius. "In the old days he had huge numbers at his command; witches and wizards he'd bullied or bewitched into following him, his faithful Death Eaters, a great variety of Dark creatures. You heard him planning to recruit the giants; well, they'll be just one group he's after. He's certainly not going to try and take on the Ministry of Magic with only a dozen Death Eaters."

"So you're trying to stop him getting more followers?"

"We're doing our best," you say.

"How?"

"Well, the main thing is to try and convince as many people as possible that You-Know-Who really has returned, to put them on their guard," Bill tells. "It's proving tricky, though."

"Why?"

"Because the Ministry is still in denial," you say with a sigh. "You saw Fudge after Voldemort came back, Harry — he hasn't changed his mind at all. He's completely refusing to believe it."

"But why?" Harry asks desperately. "Why's he being so stupid? If Dumbledore — "

"Ah, well, you've put your finger on the problem," says Mr Weasley with a wry smile. "Dumbledore."

"Fudge is frightened of him," you say.

"Frightened of Dumbledore?" Harry says incredulously.

"Frightened of what he's up to," says Mr Weasley. "You see, Fudge thinks Dumbledore's plotting to overthrow him. He thinks Dumbledore wants to be Minister of Magic."

"But Dumbledore doesn't want — "

"Of course he doesn't," Mr Weasley speaks, adjusting his spectacles. "He's never wanted the Minister's job, even though a lot of people wanted him to take it when Millicent Bagnold retired. Fudge came to power instead, but he's never quite forgotten how much popular support Dumbledore had, even though Dumbledore never applied for the job."

Remus clears his throat. "Deep down, Fudge knows Dumbledore's much cleverer than he is, a much more powerful wizard, and in the early days of his Ministry he was forever asking Dumbledore for help and advice. But it seems that he's become fond of power now, and much more confident. He loves being Minister of Magic, and he's managed to convince himself that he's the clever one and Dumbledore's simply stirring up trouble for the sake of it."

"How can he think that?" Harry says angrily. "How can he think Dumbledore would just make it all up — that I'd make it up?"

"Because accepting that Voldemort's back would mean trouble like the Ministry hasn't had to cope with for nearly fourteen years," Sirius says bitterly. "Fudge just can't bring himself to face it. It's so much more comfortable to convince himself Dumbledore's lying to destabilize him."

"Ignorance is bliss," you say sardonically.

"You see the problem," Remus says. "While the Ministry insists there is nothing to fear from Voldemort, it's hard to convince people he's back, especially as they don't really want to believe it in the first place. What's more, the Ministry's leaning heavily on the Daily Prophet not to report any of what they're calling Dumbledore's 'rumourmongering', so most of the Wizarding community are completely unaware anything's happened, and that makes them easy targets for Death Eaters if they're using the Imperius Curse."

"But you're telling people, aren't you?" says Harry, looking around the table. "You're letting people know he's back?"

You smile humourlessly.

"Well, as everyone thinks I'm a mass murderer and the Ministry's put a ten-thousand galleon price on my head, I can hardly stroll up the street and start handing out leaflets, can I?" Sirius says grimly.

"And people don't exactly find the wife of said criminal the most trustworthy either," you say bleakly, shrugging.

"I'm not a very popular dinner guest with most of the community," Remus tells. "Occupational hazard of being a werewolf."

"Tonks and Arthur would lose their jobs at the Ministry if they started shooting their mouths off," Sirius explains, "and it's very important for us to have spies inside the Ministry, because you can bet Voldemort will have them."

"We've managed to convince a few people though," Mr Weasley says optimistically. "Tonks here, for one — she's too young to have been in the Order last time, and having Aurors on our side is a huge advantage — Kingsley Shacklebolt's been a real asset too. He's in charge of the hunt for Sirius, so he's been feeding the Ministry information that Sirius is in Tibet."

"But if none of you is putting the news out that Voldemort is back — " Harry begins, but Sirius stops him.

"Who said none of us was putting the news out? Why d'you think Dumbledore is in so much trouble?"

"What do you mean?" Harry asks.

"They're trying to discredit him," Remus explains. "Didn't you see the Daily Prophet last week? They reported that he'd been voted out of the Chairmanship of the International Confederation of Wizards because he's getting old and losing his grip, but it's not true, he was voted out by Ministry wizards after he made a speech announcing Voldemort's return. They've demoted him from Chief Warlock on the Wizengamot — that's the Wizard High Court — and they're talking about taking away his Order of Merlin, First Class, too."

"But Dumbledore says he doesn't care what they do as long as they don't take him off the Chocolate Frog cards," Bill chimes in, grinning.

"It's no laughing matter," Mr Weasley says shortly. "If he carries on defying the Ministry like this, he could end up in Azkaban and the last thing we want is Dumbledore locked up. While You-Know-Who knows Dumbledore's out there and wise to what he's up to, he's going to go cautiously for a while. If Dumbledore's out of the way — well, You-Know-Who will have a clear field."

"What's he after apart from followers?" Harry asks quickly.

You exchange a glance with Sirius before he says, "Stuff he can only get by stealth."

Harry stays looking confused, and Sirius continues, "Like a weapon. Something he didn't have last time."

"When he was powerful before?"

"Yes."

"Like what kind of weapon?" Harry asks. "Something worse than the Avada Kedavra — ? "

"That's enough."

From the shadows beside the door, Mrs Weasley stands, her expression furious. "I want you in bed, now. All of you."

"You can't boss us — " Fred begins.

"Watch me," she snarls, before turning her unapproving gaze on Sirius. "You've given Harry plenty of information. Any more and you might just as well induct him into the Order straight away."

"Why not?" Harry says. "I'll join, I want to join, I want to fight — "

"No."

This time, it's not Mrs Weasley who speaks, it's Remus.

"The Order is comprised of overage wizards," he says.

"Wizards who have left school," you add quickly, seeing the twins open their mouths. You sigh, pushing your chair away from the table, patting Sirius's arm softly. "Molly's right, Sirius. We've said enough. I think it's time everyone got some rest."

He gives a half-shrug but doesn't argue, waiting as Mrs Weasley leads her children and Harry upstairs to their bedrooms.

Later, you yawn around your toothbrush, facing the mirror in the dimly-lit ensuite off Sirius's bedroom.

"She can't seriously think leaving Harry in the dark about all this is the better option," Sirius muses testily, idly fiddling with your jewellery on the nightstand as he talks. "He's not a child. He's deserves to know what's going on."

"I agree."

"And the way she brought up James — as if I can't tell the difference between my best friend and my godson," he continues in frustration. "I know he's not James, of course I know that — "

You spit into the sink, pulling the tap to rinse it out. "She didn't know James. She doesn't know how difficult it is to stop yourself from looking at Harry and seeing him. How hard it is to not look for him and Lily in everything."

"No," Sirius says after a moment. "She doesn't."

You run your hands down your face, sighing. "I can't believe she said that thing about you in Azkaban. I can't believe she would stoop that low, as if you had any fucking choice to be in there."

"She hates me," he says. "Do you see the looks she gives me?"

"She doesn't hate you," you tell him wearily, flicking off the light and closing the bathroom door behind you. You lean against the doorframe, folding your arms. "She's scared and worried about Harry, that's all. She's stressed."

"She's not the only one."

"No, she's not," you say softly, making your way over to where he sits on the bed, gently taking his face in your hands. "Look, forget about it now. What's done is done, there's no use dwelling on it now."

He sighs, leaning into your touch with a small sigh. "You really are the most amazing woman I've ever met."

"I try."

He kisses your knuckles one by one, then presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist. "And clever."

You hum, watching as his lips slowly travel up your arm, arriving at your neck, where he lingers for several moments to kiss every inch of exposed skin he can reach. "And beautiful."

He pulls you toward him so you're straddling his legs, and he grins. "So very beautiful indeed."

✧⁠*⁠。✧⁠*⁠。

->-> read chapter twenty-seven here!

→ all kinds of interaction appreciated

absolutely massive thank you to my taglist lovelies <3 :

@mothraantics @wholelottalove05 @izuoyarmin @devoid-swanky @carpe000diem @mooonyxoxo @hyperspeedo @idkman5335 @elanna-elrondiel @murielisacertifieddilf @penelopied @imgondeletedis @jennifer0305

[across-violet-skies]

@unexpectedstormy Stormy!!!! a fic for you!!! this took me WAY longer than I'd like to admit, lol, but it's finally done and just in time too!!!

admittedly I don't know you as well as I'd like, but I do know you like Wild and Hyrule, so....... well, you'll see :3

I hope you have a super awesome day!!! enjoy it <3

(also, thanks to @anime-obsessed for coming up with the herb name!)

preview under the cut!!!

Wild hummed to himself, crouching in the tall grass to take a picture with his slate. “Hey ‘Rulie, do you recognize this?” He snapped the picture, examining it in his slate. “My slate can’t identify it!”

“Hm?” Hyrule glanced over at Wild. “What?”

“This mushroom,” the Champion repeated, pointing into the grass. Sure enough, a tiny, blue-tinted mushroom sat pretty in the parted lawn, round and innocuous and tempting.

Hyrule squatted down beside Wild, eyes shining with curiosity. “I’ve never seen it before, no,” he murmured. Hesitantly, he held out a finger, flicking the spongey texture with wide eyes. A small cloud of spores puffed out from the mushroom, cloudy blue in color. “Oh!”

“Ooh…” Wild took another picture, shutter clicking. “Should I take it?”

The traveler glanced around, frowning. “I don’t see any more of them around here…” He gently touched the mushroom, bending the stem slightly to get a better look at it. “I don’t think we should take it if there’s no more of them around. They might be really important to the wildlife here.”

Wild sighed, but put his slate away. As much as he hated to admit it, Hyrule was right. Taking that mushroom could prove disastrous for the local ecosystem, and who was he to cause harm to the planet? He loved the world– his nickname was literally Wild. “Yeah, you’re right.”

Hyrule’s ears perked as his head swiveled. “Oh, Wild, look over here!” A few quick paces led him to a new plant, one tall and leafy with pale yellow stripes tracing the leaf veins. It smelled strongly of herbs, like what Wild would sometimes toss in a meal to season it.

“Oh, I know this one!” The cook pressed the stem between two fingers, sliding his hand along to pick off the leaves. “This is Sunlight Sage. I use it in cooking all the time!” He stored the leaves in his slate, adding them to bolster his stock.

Hyrule hummed. “It smells nice,” he noted.

Wild grinned, nodding. “Yeah! Oh, here’s another one; let me show you how to pick the leaves!” he crouched down beside the second plant, pointing along the stem. “See how the leaves all point up like that? If you slide your hand in the opposite direction, they come off super easy!” He demonstrates, plucking the leaves off the top half of the stem. “And it makes your hands smell like herbs, too.”

Hyrule lit up, eyes sparkling. He grabbed the stem, pinching it in the same way he had seen Wild do it. Carefully, he moved his fingers, breaking off the leaves as he went. His lips split into a wide grin. “Oh!”

“Cool, right?”

“So cool!” Hyrule agreed, handing over the leaves he had picked. Wild stored them in his slate. “Wild! Look!” The traveler gasped, pointing into the grass. “Another one of those weird mushrooms!”

Wild didn’t hesitate. He laid flat on his stomach, at eye level with the strange blue mushroom. Hyrule followed suit. “Does that mean I can take it?”

Hyrule shrugged. “Probably!”

The Champion lit up, sitting back on his haunches. Hyrule poked the mushroom again, giggling at the way it sproinged back up. Another small puff of blue spores released from the fungus, dusting Hyrule’s nose with a fine blue layer. Wild plucked it from the dirt, pinching it at the stem. It got tossed in the slate along with the Sunlight Sage.

Hyrule wrinkled his nose, reeling back as a sneeze racked his small form. “Ugh,” he groaned, sniffling. “That’s a weird mushroom.”

Wild glanced over. Hyrule’s nose had a light coating of blue over it, the skin underneath already starting to turn an angry red. “Oh!” Wild grabbed the hem of his tunic, pulling it up to wipe the spores off Hyrule’s face. When he pulled away, however, it looked the same. “Uh oh…”

“What?” Hyrule tilted his head, brows furrowed. His nose twitched, and another sneeze sent a shiver down his spine. Tears pooled in his eyes, easily blinked away. “Is something wrong?”

Wild grimaced, grabbing Hyrule by the arm. “We need to get you back to the others,” he insisted. “You might be allergic to that mushroom or something! Your face is all red and blotchy.”

“It is?” The traveler blinked slowly, almost in a daze. He didn’t fight as Wild tugged him along, dragging him through the fields. “Mmm… yeah, I don’t feel so good, actually…”

They ran through the field, Hyrule stumbling on every step as Wild pulled him along. The traveler sneezed and wheezed and coughed, red in the face. The dusty blue coating on his nose stubbornly remained. “Wil’, I don’-”

A massive boulder slammed into them from the side, crushing Wild and snapping Hyrule’s left arm.

The traveler howled, gritting his teeth with a choked gasp. The force of the impact knocked him back, and broke his arm, sure, but it hadn’t been aimed at him.

Wild… Wild was underneath the boulder.

Through his daze, Hyrule stumbled back to his feet. He grunted, shoving at the boulder with his good arm, silently praying that one power bracelet would be enough to move it off his friend. And move it did, shifting slowly and agonizingly until a red-stained blue tunic was fully uncovered.

Behind him, another boulder flew by. Hyrule gasped, diving down into the grass. It was tall enough to hide both him and… uh… Blue Tunic. Peeking over, he could see a giant rock monster, lumbering aimlessly through the field.

Hyrule closed his eyes, trying to fend off the dizzy spell that threatened to take him down. He sighed, resting his head against the red and blue pillow underneath him.

It was warm.

And wet.

And… breathing?

Hyrule sat up with a gasp. No, it wasn’t a pillow. That was his friend, his friend who was dying after getting hit with… with…

The traveler squeezed his eyes shut. It didn’t matter. He needed to help his friend.

-> read the rest on ao3!!

[ereardon]

ok idk if this is a dilf bob sleeping with the nanny/babysitter/etc but i love the idea of Finally hooking up w/ dilf bob and its all very like intense bc its like 'we cant stand the tension anymore' sex and in the afterglow bob is holding you and just asks about something you mentioned completely in passing?? like 'what ever happened with that missing umbrella, did it end up being at work?' or like 'i was meaning to ask, is that friend of yours all right?' BECAUSE HE LISTENS (perhaps not the thottiest of thots but)

Ooh I kind of love that, he definitely listens and cares about her! I'm about 2K words in and I've written this which is similar-ish (but also different!):

Your heart was beating erratically in your chest for the fifteen minute drive, and you thought you might spontaneously combust the moment you pulled into the familiar driveway. It was hard to unsee the history of your friendship with Anna outlined everywhere you looked. 

The two of you tanning on the front lawn in the summers. The curb where you hit your head roller skating and had to get five stitches. How many times had you parked your old car in their driveway, waiting for Anna to slide into the passenger seat? How many times had the two of you snuck out of that house late at night for parties, scantily clad and carrying water bottles full of liquor you had pilfered from Mr. Floyd’s office where he kept his alcohol stash? 

...

“Have a seat,” he said. “Do you want a drink?” 

“What do you have?” 

Bob returned from the hall closet. “Honey, you know better than anyone what I have. Don’t think I didn’t know the two of you were sneaking into my liquor cabinet all those years.” 

You flushed, turning around halfway on the couch to peer over the back at him, mouth agape. Bob chuckled, heading for the kitchen and returning a few seconds later with two glasses and a bottle of chilled champagne. “You knew?” you asked, aghast. 

He sat down on the other end of the couch, pouring a glass of champagne and handing it to you. “Of course I knew,” he said, his voice thick and rumbling.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Dancing Men pt 1

His head was sunk upon his breast, and he looked from my point of view like a strange, lank bird, with dull grey plumage and a black top-knot.

This is probably not the image ACD (nor Watson) intended to conjure up, but this was what I immediately thought of.

Ooh, we're starting with a Holmes deducing Watson section again. That hasn't happened for a while. I thought Watson had got over his amazement at having it turned on him. Apparently not.

I looked with amazement at the absurd hieroglyphics upon the paper. “Why, Holmes, it is a child's drawing,” I cried.

Watson knows some very intelligent egyptologist children.

“Well, Mr. Holmes, what do you make of these?” he cried. “They told me that you were fond of queer mysteries, and I don't think you can find a queerer one than that."

Yes, but aside from Holmes' taste in literature, what about the paper?

OH, I have read this one before. I didn't remember the title, but I do remember the little stick figures. Not that that reminds me of anything else.

"You'll think it very mad, Mr. Holmes, that a man of a good old family should marry a wife in this fashion, knowing nothing of her past or of her people; but if you saw her and knew her it would help you to understand."

Oh no, Mr Cubitt, have you been honey trapped?

"If you take me, Hilton, you will take a woman who has nothing that she need be personally ashamed of; but you will have to be content with my word for it, and to allow me to be silent as to all that passed up to the time when I became yours."

Oh dear... this is not a good sign. If you're not willing to share your past with the guy, you really shouldn't share your future with him. Where's the trust? Where's the communication? You don't have to explain everything in detail, but he should have at least a little idea of what it's about.

Red flags once again.

"It was only the day before our wedding that she said those very words to me."

She might be a perfectly nice person, but she doesn't trust you

"None did come for a week, and then yesterday morning I found this paper lying on the sun-dial in the garden."

I might be remembering wrong, but last time a mysterious coded message was left on a sundial in these stories, three people were murdered by the KKK.

That story also started with a person being deiberately secretive with information that could have savde people's lives.

“Don't you think, Mr. Cubitt,” said he, at last, “that your best plan would be to make a direct appeal to your wife, and to ask her to share her secret with you?” Hilton Cubitt shook his massive head. “A promise is a promise, Mr. Holmes. If Elsie wished to tell me she would. If not, it is not for me to force her confidence. But I am justified in taking my own line—and I will.”

Because hiring a detective to snoop into your wife's secret past is so much better than asking her directly. I get that you made a promise, my man, but while this may be sticking to the letter of that promise, it absolutely isn't sticking to the spirit. Asking your wife is definitely the lesser of two evils here.

"After that I determined to lie in wait; so I got out my revolver and I sat up in my study, which overlooks the lawn and garden."

Given that this is Sherlock Holmes story, the person leaving these notes probably is very dastardly and liable to murder, but I'm not sure leaving weird encoded messages really calls for guns.

“‘What, be driven out of our own house by a practical joker?’ said I. ‘Why, we should have the whole county laughing at us.’"

"Seizing my pistol I was rushing out, when my wife threw her arms round me and held me with convulsive strength."

Was it a pistol or a revolver? Because earlier you said you got your revolver, and now you're saying pistol...

The dancing stickmen are very cute. I like the upside-down ones the best.

So, is this going to be one of the ones where someone dies before Holmes gets there? It feels like it might be. But ACD does prefer happier endings for his couples when neither of them is the bad guy. Guess I'll have to wait and see.

[frozenwolftemplar]

Writer's Month Day 11: Road Trip

Fandom: TTS (Modern AU)

Rating: G

Summary: When she first planned out their big cross-country roadtrip, Rapunzel knew there'd doubtless be hiccups along the way; life was like that. She didn't anticipate hitting the first before they left the driveway, though...

+++

Rapunzel flopped back on the sun-warmed lawn with a sigh, idly tracing wispy shapes in the cirrus overhead. She was an optimist by nature. Glasses were half full, every thunderhead had a silver lining, and even the most crotchety neighborhood grump could be won over with enough time and the right cupcakes (she would get through to Monty...eventually). Everything would *always* work out for the best. Which was fortunate, because-

“No *way* am I agreeing to that.”

“Yeah? Well no *way* am I taking my life in my hands and getting in a car with *you* behind the wheel.“

Because otherwise, she’d be worried.

Months of planning a cross country road trip, and she somehow hadn’t counted on Eugene and Cass going at it before they’d even left the driveway, butting heads over the all important question of who would drive the first leg of their trip.

“What, can’t stand the thrill of having a master behind the wheel?”

“More like I’d rather avoid the ‘thrill’ of speeding tickets and you nearly turning the car into an off-road vehicle at every literal turn.”

“Oh for the love of- that was one time! And that thing hardly counted as a ditch!”

“Enough of a ditch for me. Face it, Fitzherbert.” Cass crossed her arms smugly before Eugene could start on what exactly qualified as a ditch versus a very ambitious aspiring pothole. “Even your *girlfriend* doesn’t feel safe in a car you’re driving.”

Eugene scoffed, cocking a self-assured hand on his hip. “Shows how much *you* know. Tell our 'friendly' neighborhood Ice Demon, Blondie: I am a *fantastic* driver.”

Rapunzel blinked. “Uh.....” (not that she was taking sides, but she’d had drivers ed with Eugene his second time around).

Eugene gasped, knowing exactly what that very diplomatic “Uh...” meant coming from his girlfriend, and slammed an affronted hand to his chest. “Sunshine?!?”

Completely ignoring the theatrics, Cass dug into her pocket and whipped out a notepad. “We have an itinerary, Fotzherbert.” He stared unimpressed at the college-ruled sheets waving in his face. “And we need to stick to it if we want to hit all the places on Raps’ list.”

“I don’t mind if we skip-“ (honestly, Cass and her itineraries...).

“Which,” Cass continued undaunted. “We won’t do if you’re driving.”

“And what makes you so sure, Miss Can’t Make a Left Turn?”

Cass counted herself as the mature one (no matter how much Rapunzel tried to argue in her boyfriend’s favor), so she ignored that (Rapunzel too since, well, she’d also seen Cass drive). “Besides if you drive, even if we don’t get pulled over every five minutes, we’ll be getting off the freeway every ten miles for Lance’s ridiculous pet project!”

“Hey!” Lance looked up indignantly from where he was raiding the cooler (wait...wasn’t that supposed to be in the trunk?) “The Cross County McDonald’s tour is *not* ridiculous!”

(Again, not taking sides, but it quite honestly was)

“It’s the definition of ridiculous!” Cass rounded on him, oblivious to the face Eugene was pulling behind her back. “All McDonalds’ are the same *why* would anyone go out of their way to hit one in every city on our route?!?”

“And how do you know they’re the same?” Lance scoffed as he popped the tab on a Fanta. (Hmph, see if he let her get away with bad mouthing his scientific research...)

“Because that’s the whole point of a chain restaurant!!!”

“Then explain why the one the next town over has better Coke than ours, eh?”

“Better shakes too.”

“See?“ Cass snapped back to Eugene. “This is *exactly* why you’re not driving!”

“Ooh, hey, come to think of it Lance:” Unfazed by fury incarnate standing before him, Eugene shot an aggravating grin over Cass’s head at his friend. “Next town over has the better Starbucks too.”

You could *see* the lightbulb click on over Lance’s head as Cass slapped her palm across her face (how had she agreed to this...). “I can see it now:” He spread his arms theatrically, framing an imaginary billboard and nearly upending his can of soda in the process. “Cross Country McDonald’s *and* Starbucks tour!”

“Oh, *come on!* I am *not*-“

Rapunzel turned her attention back to the clouds with a sigh. She was an optimist. Things always worked out for the best, and this would too.

“We are *not* stopping for a macchiato on top of a Coke in every city! Do you have any idea how much caffeine tht would be?”

“So what I’m hearing is we *are* doing Lance’s McDonald’s thing?”

“I didn’t say that!!!”

Eventually. Maybe she’d just drive.

[prettyboylovemail]

THAT REMINDED ME— i meant to send you an ask about this forever ago (and i know we've talked about it before), but what's your friendship like with the rest of the band? :3c

Ooh, yay, thanks for asking!! 💕

Putting it under a cut because it ended up being way longer than I initially intended—

For a little bit of context to start off — my insert works in the cosmetics department and is lowkey treated more like an intern than an employee at the record label that the band is signed with and works in their main building doing mostly small, menial tasks like cleaning and organizing things after a photoshoot/rehearsal/etc. So for her to have not only start dating one of the band's members, but to have inadvertently befriended the group as a whole is a pretty huge feat.

Because of that (and also my own anxiety and low self-esteem to begin with), it takes a while for me to actually be comfortable enough to call the group my "friends". They're all really chill and nice to me, and it's cool being able to hang out with everyone in their down time, but for a good while, I was kinda just being brought along by Ichigo and was sort of just there as an extra wheel. Over time, though, I did end up forming friendships with all of them to varying degrees and actually became a solidified member of the friend group as opposed to just being "Ichigo's girlfriend."

Hinata is the one I get along with the most. He was the easiest for me to click with because we're actually really similar in personality and we have a lot of common interests! Plus, since he's the most outgoing of the group, he would end up being the first one to talk to me or include me in things when I was too shy to speak up. We like to talk about different anime and games together and he's honestly just the easiest for me to talk to/open up to (other than Ichigo) because of how friendly and carefree he is. He also does flirt with me a bit and makes teasing jokes every now and then, but he knows better than to push Ichigo's buttons too much, lest he end up folded in half like a lawn chair.

Next up is Tai! Amusingly enough, I found him to be the most intimidating to talk to, despite him being literally THE chillest guy on the planet. He is the cool type who gets along with pretty much everyone he talks to, and yet, I was always SO nervous to start conversation with him. When I eventually told him that, he actually laughed and said that no one else had ever said that about him before (considering that most people think Ichigo is the scary one, and yet I had no problems talking to him of all people). We don't hang out quite as much one-on-one, and usually only see each other when we all get together as a group, but every now and then, we will bump into each other at the local coffee shop on breaks from work and stop for a chat. Mostly just small talk, but every now and then, we might chat about more in depth things like how my relationship with Ichi is going or about our little sisters/family stuff too.

Kazuki... is probably the one I get along with the least on an individual level. Not to say that we aren't friends or anything, but rather, we just... don't have all that much in common, and he's a fairly reserved person, so it was really hard to actually get to know him on a personal level. Whenever we all hang out as a big group, he's really animated and cheery and likes to tease/poke fun at Ichi and it's a lot of fun, but whenever he's alone, he's strangely quiet and doesn't really initiate conversation all that much. He and I don't really ever end up alone together at all because he's either 1) glued to his girlfriend(your)'s side or 2) holed up in his room writing music so I rarely ever see him outside of the group setting. Over time, though, I think he does end up seeing me as a part of the group and does actually see me as a friend, and I'd like to actually get to know him better, but it definitely takes the longest to get there.

[barbiewritesstuff]

Set It Up

-- Kind of a part 2 to that Set It Up request because I saw the kiss scene and I fell in love… Dialogue obviously had to change to match up to Hangman but I tried to keep it pretty close. And this happens wayy before the events of the movie.

Also, please send me requests!! I know I have a few original Top Gun fanfics that need to come out but I am waiting to rewatch the film for that but worry not! I do not forget you! -- 

Y/n looked through the window of her house. It was a new build in San Diego that they had moved to a few weeks ago. She liked it here, the sun was hot and the ocean was pleasant but looking out of her window at the tiny patch of grass they had called a garden made her nostalgic for home with its green pastures, cattle farms and long hiking trails. 

She lost track of time thinking about all she had left behind. This move was good for them, and she had been up for it when Jake had suggested it. It was good for his career and for their future. Without this move they would never have the paycheck necessary for their dream of children, but she realised now that she might have liked to do it with her parents nearby.

She heard the front door open and then close again

“Honey I’m home!” Jake shouted, when he received no reply he dropped his bag on the floor and removed his boots before walking into the living room to find her absorbed in her own thoughts, intently staring at bird on their lawn

“Penny for your thoughts?”

“Do you remember our first kiss?”

Jake scoffed “Of course I do”

They had been on a few dates, but nothing but mutual pining had come out of it. They had both been too cowardly to do anything about it. Recently, though they had been a little off with each other, and Jake had refused to come and help when Y/n had been in trouble with another guy until she had begged him to, under the guise that ‘he wasn’t her boyfriend’, she had given him the cold shoulder since. 

Still, one day as she closed up she noticed a familiar figure out of the window of the bakery she worked at. He seemed to have been waiting for someone. Slowly, as if sensing her eyes on his back, he turned and saw her right as she lowered the metal curtain down on the windows and doors. 

He was still waiting for her when she came out from the back. 

“Hi” 

“Hi” she replied

“What are you -- what are you doing here?” Y/n asked, taking him in in the light of the street lamps and the pale moonlight. He looked handsome.

“Oh err Nathalie told me to meet her here. What are you doing here?” Jake said. Strange. Nathalie, Y/n’s sister had also asked her to meet her there…

“Ooh Oh my god” She laughed when the realisation hit her. Nathalie had always been cheering their situationship on, hoping it would become something more. She had told Y/n that she just wanted to see her little sister happy, but Y/n suspected it had more to do with the fact that Jake’s sister Jane was her best friend and getting her own sister and her brother together would be one step closer to actually being sisters.

“She cyranoed us” He shook his head

“Yes she --”

“I googled it, so I know what that means now” He admitted, looking at his shoes. He rubbed a spot on the pavement to give the impression he wasn’t embarrassed but both knew Y/n could see right through it. 

“Why are you dressed like that?” She said, eyeing his clothes. He wore a black shirt and tight jeans, a far cry from what he should have been wearing: the ridiculous uniform of the chicken shop next door.

“I don’t work here -- anymore” He said, much to her surprise “Yeah I quit working for Rick -- Starting over… I’m 20, actually I’m a temp, which is technically lower on the totem pole than assistant… which is… Kind of a kick in the nuts -- it’s uhh kind of cool, I get to see a bunch of different jobs… Find out what I actually like” He paused and looked her deep into the eyes “I like you… so so much. You’re not hard to get, at all, you’re hard to earn… It’s so much better” He seemed so genuine, but Y/n’s heart had been broken a little that night. 

“You displayed a total lack of character when it mattered”

“I know” 

“Jake you have the romantic and sexual personality of a 7th grader”

He scoffed. Jake knew it was true, but he also knew you found it charming. You had always been a sensible girl and his silliness helped you relax

“7th grade -- I mean I feel like I could at least be high school” He joked

“You wear suits to sports games!”

“What?” He asked, outraged, until he realised what incident she was talking about -- a time his baseball team had all turned up in tuxedos to destabilise the opposite team -- and what game she was playing

“You’re a know it all”  he replied

“You are… unbelievably bad at beer pong” she threw back

“You’re a sore winner… And you use too many exclamation points” 

“And yet…”

Jake took her by the hand and pulled her close. He moved his hand to cup her face and leaned in. Their lips met and sparks flew. It hadn’t been her first kiss, but it would be the only one that would ever matter. 

She came back to reality, Jake holding her from behind, gently kissing her neck

“I’m hungry”

“I completely forgot dinner, I am so sorry” She exclaimed, clasping a hand over her mouth

“Take out? I kind of fancy pizza” Jake asked, already holding the phone in his hand and dialling the number

[saturnsstufff]

If your requests are open, could you maybe do a C!Techno x Reader? Like, the Butcher Army is there for Techno and Phil wasn't able to give him a\such an early head's up so he's not really prepared, and Quackity has the reader hostage when they show, cause maybe they were outside doing something... You don't have to, of course! -Sugar Anon (may I claim this Anon?)

Ooh! Most definitely! And of course you can claim it your my first anon!🖤

Warnings: Blood, swearing

Techno was a pretty well known man, lets face it. Maybe not in the way you hoped, and in this instance you mean he was wanted.

But you were not awhere of that because you lived with him out in the chilly Tundra. Phil would usally bring you two the new updates and anything you should be aware of. So when he didnt show for his morning tea you were a but skeptical to say the least. But techno had casually shrugged his shoulders, waving it off that he had gotten busy. This was true. Phil was a awfully busy man, he never seemed to stop moving, building, or exploring. So you joined techno on his assumption.

Techno was casually brewing potions that afternoon. Not a uncommon occurance to say the least. You had grown accustomed to seeing the towering man working over his bottles. His large but gentle hands gracefully, and carefully manuvering the glasses to where he pleased.

"Techno love? Im going to go trade these books nearby ok?" You mentioned as you took your cloak. Slipping it on so you could contain your warm. Techno hummed in agreement. Since you were so far from L'amanburg he didn't really mind you walking freely to the nearby village. He actually viewed your common trips as a large help.

"I have seven emeralds in that chest over there, could you see if any of them are willing to trade for a mending book?" He asked well he looked up to you. His reading glasses resting on his nose. You smiled brightly and nodded.

"Of course!" Anything you could do to help you were down to do. L'amanburg wasn't aware Techno had a lover, mostly because Techno didn't want you getting pulled into his rather volient affairs. He viewed them as his battles. Not battles that you had to fight.

Well collecting the gems into your basket he spoke up again, his hand coming to the small of your back. "Take Carl ok? I can't have my princess walking like the peasants do" he said bemused. Pressing a gentle but loving kiss to your forhead.

You leaned into him, enjoying the physical affection he gave you. Techno wasn't one to voice his love Rather, instead he would gift you, or make physical actions twords showing you how much he cared.

You walked out and hopped onto Carl the sturdy, and loyal steed waiting for the new adventure he would be taking. Edging your heels into him you began to head for the forest.

After a while of riding through the woods you began to grow weary. You felt like you were being watched. You were not a Hybrid like Techno so you couldnt smell or hear any abnormalities. But you just knew somthing was off. It was a harsh mental debate on whether to turn around or continue. Ultimately you decided it was best to just turn around. For how on edge you were you figured that telling Techno, and him laughing at you was better than lingering outside anymore.

You pulled the reigins, signaling for Carl to turn, however when you did, someone had jumped onto Carl behind you. Grabbing you tightly to prevent your flailing. You couldnt help the blood curdling scream you let out before your mouth was covered by a hand. You were panicking. You couldnt see your attacker but very well felt them behind you.

"Im gonna make you a deal. Your going to take us back to that nice cottage of yours, or I'll paint your blood all over the snow" the voice sneered next to your ear. "Im going to remove my hand. If you so as utter a word I wont hesatate to get rid of you. Am I clear?" The voice was slow, but threatening. They meant what they said. You could only nod slowly as he removed his hand from your mouth. "In case you get a wild burst of courage... I'll just leave this here" he had taken his sword out. Lingering it by your neck. You didn't know what else to do, so you just took the reigins and slwoly started back home.

When you got to Technoblade's Cottage you were forced off of Carl, the snow did little in softening your fall. You looked up praying thag techno herd some commotion.

"Technoblade get your ass out here!" The man Yelled, you looked up to him. He had black hair poking out from his beanie. Underneath his armor was a bloody a apron. All, in all, not someone you wanted to be around.

When the door opened you called out for Techno. Trying to make a run for him. But instead you were only grabbed by your ankle and dragged back to the raven haired man. The sword he held finding it's way to your neck.

"Let her go Quackity." Techno's eyes were narrowed and calculated. He wasn't pleased by any means for how Quackity was manhandling you.

"You think I'm going to listen to you? Your fucking delusional. Heres whats going to happen Techno. Your going to come with us. Or I'll kill her and give your front lawn a nice new red decoration." You whimpered. All you wanted was Techno. You wanted to be in his arms, you didn't like how This 'Quackity' man was talking or handling you.

"Your going to let her go first." Techno stepped closer. His hand drawing his blade. You could see Techno's breathing. He was angry, and so were the voices.

"I wouldn't step any closer." The blade pressed in more. Your hand coming up to try and push the blade away. "Your going to drop your blade and walk up to fundy to get handcuffed. Then I'll let her go." You watched as Techno weighed his options. In the end he did drop his blade. He valued your life above everything. Once his hands were tied securely, you were let free. The first thing you did was run to techno. Hugging onto him for dear life.

"(Y/n) listen to me. Your going to go into the house and wait for Philza. Ok?" You looked up at him with pain in your eyes, shaking your head.

"No! Im not letting you go alone!" You started to tear. You didnt know where they were taking him. But you knew it wasn't good.

"(Y/n) I said go in the house. I will be fine.." He manuvered his head to wrap around yours since his arms couldn't. "I don't want you involved ok?..." his tone was gentle, trying to ease your haywire nerves.

"Techno please let me come.." Your eyes begged, but he didnt budge. Quackity only took and shoved Techno further.

"Wait in the House!" Was the final thing he said as he was forced over the Hill.

Waiting for his return had you beyond restless. You could only look from the clock back to the fire. The raging 'What if's running through your brain. It was extremely late before techno had returned back home.

When he opened the door you rushed over to him. Almost tripping over your own feet. To feel him in your arms was the one thing you needed to calm your nerves. You gripped onto him for dear life. His arms gently wrapped around you. Rubbing a ligjt circle into your back.

"Thank god your home" you said. Your face buried into his chest. The lingering sent of dynamite and the iron smell of blood on his clothes. "I was so worried about you..." you felt his hand move to the underside of your thighs. Lifting you up into his arms so he could move inside.

"Come now princess... You didnt really think I would let anything happen to myself, now would you?" He mused. His eyes soft as he looked up into yours.

"I.. I mean" You looked down at him, the bit of worry still remaining. He sat down on his sofa. Leaning back into it as he looked up at you.

"Baby girl, you know Technoblade never dies" He said cocking a eyebrow up as his face went smug. You only smiled a little at that. Moving to rest your head in his neck.

"I still worried..." you said gently. Relaxing into his chest. Glad to see him home safely.

"I know princess... I know" He knew he would have to tell you about the execution. But for now he knew you were distraught. He may have been poor at comforting, but he knew right now the best thing was for you to just lay in his arms at peace. Let you try and forget what Quackity had probably etched into your memory for months to come. Because Quackity was only the start now. Now everyone knew, Techno had someone he truly loved.

[takes1]

t. yagi (small might) hcs

____________________

warnings. nsfw, kinks, spooky old man lmaooo, minors stay off my lawn!!

details. gn!reader

notes. my ao3, also trying to find a cute gif of small might without him looking like a ghoul was very difficult/ also also my apologies if this is not horny enough, i have more in the works

hc series. k. bakugou / d. kaminari / e. kirishima / f. tokoyami / t. amajiki / m. togata

_____________________

- switch: he does not care anymore. remains a bit old-fashioned and likes to feel like the 'man,' but enjoys it just as much when you take over and make him your plaything.

- roleplay: as embarrassing as this one would be to admit for him, he'd want to branch out and do some casual pro hero/civilian roleplays. an innocent, helpless bystander getting saved by the big, strong number one hero and wanting to repay him with their body. turning him on with this is as simple as you burning your finger, dramatically falling back against him, and asking him to save you with a kiss to make it better.

- sugar daddy: after his retirement, it's increasingly difficult for him to feel like he's the same provider/protector he used to be. that role was the most rewarding and fulfilling for him. now, the main way he can get that same feeling is by buying you literally everything you have ever mentioned. you said once that you liked apples better than oranges? boom 50 pounds of apples from costco that will go bad in a week. you briefly glance to a display window? he'll buy the outfit and the mannequin.

- bath sex: as a decrepit old man with aches and pains, he needs his regular hot baths to help unwind and reset. will slip a request that you join him every time but never pushes it. when you do indulge him, his muscles get a break and he's got a beautiful show and he gets his dick wet. wins all around.

- massages: like the baths, he needs massages at the end of the day to relax and let go. gets a halfie literally every time you reach for the massage oil without being prompted and is quick to offer your massage first, since he gets too sleepy after his.

- sitting on his lap: ooh that small seething sound on the shell of your ear when he first tries to act cool. there is no hiding that monster in his pants, whether that be sweats, jeans, or his work slacks that you decide to sit on. situates you so he can feel your warmth on his thigh and rests his big ol' hands just shy of what would be inappropriate. he's definitely the type to dig his fingers in your hips to make you squirm against him, then act like he did nothing wrong.

- sexting: pleeease send him dirty pics of you wearing his clothes or the nice lacy things he got you. wants to see you especially while he's at work, justifies it by telling you that 'it gets him through the day.'

- praise: remind him you still think he's the strongest man around. he needs to feel reassured that he still turns you on. his voice, his fingers, his height, really play to his ego and feel him get all worked up.

[lilacandladybugs]

Winnie the Pooh Rendition: In Which The Syndicate Throws Technoblade a Birthday Party

It was a bright and snowy as ever June day, one of those days where nearly everyone is still sleeping, and the summer air is a bit thicker than normal, and the snowflakes still bustle through the air. One of those June days where the polar bears lay around lazily and the song of birds from nearby treetops feels even more gentle than normal. It was one of those types of snowy Junes, the most Junest that anyone had seen, when Philza Minecraft realized it was Technoblade’s birthday.

“Oh dear,” Phil said, standing up from where he had been writing Wilbur a letter, “Today is Technoblade’s birthday, and I haven’t got anything planned.” This simply wouldn’t do. Technoblade would need to have a large birthday to commemorate how Clever and Loyal and Generous he was, as everyone in the Syndicate agreed.

“I must go tell Ranboo right away, and we can make some plans together.” And so Philza gathered up his armor and went out into the snowy June morning to Ranboo’s house, which was just across the lawn.

“Ranboo,” Phil began, “I had nearly forgotten that it is Technoblade’s birthday today, and we must throw him a party as soon as possible.”

“His birthday?” Ranboo said, blinking his large enderman eyes, “a birthday.”

“Yes,” said Phil, “and we need to throw him a party.”

“Well birthday parties are things that shouldn’t be forgotten,” said Ranboo, who had forgotten what a Birth Day was, “and we should make sure everything is just right.”

“Yes,” said Phil, “we should.”

Ranboo considered for a moment what a Birth Day might be, and what type of party someone would have for it. Perhaps Birth Days were days where you had something good happen, and you needed congratulating. In that case they might want to write him a book. Or maybe Birth Days where when something solemn happened, and you needed consoling. 

“It seems,” Ranboo guessed, “That we should have a celebration.”

“That’s what I said.”

“Ah yes,” Ranboo nodded seriously, “of course, Birth Days are always for celebrating and being happy.”

“Well, yes, obviously. But what should we do to celebrate it?”

Ranboo remembered that Technoblade seemed to enjoy fireworks, and he remembered that sometimes people set off fireworks when they were celebrating an occasion. “What if we set off fireworks?”

“Oh,” said Phil, “yes Technoblade does like fireworks.”

Ranboo felt pleased with himself for guessing something correctly, “Yes he does.”

“But fireworks are not very customary on such occasions,” Phil continued.

“True,” said Ranboo, “not very custardly at all.” 

Phil sat down next to Ranboo so that he would be in a better position for planning occasions, and thought about the firework idea, which still remained their only idea. “Well, I suppose we could have fireworks anyway,” he resolved, “given they are Technoblade’s favorite.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Ranboo said.

“I’ll go tell Nikki, nobody would want to miss a birthday party.” Phil stood up with new resolve to make Technoblade a lot of fancy fireworks for his birthday, “Thank you for helping me come up with ideas. Come around our house at three o’clock, and I will have woken Technoblade up for his birthday.”

“Goodbye,” said Ranboo, feeling as if the exchange had gone exceptionally well for not knowing what a Birth Day was, and feeling very excited to finally find out.

“Goodbye,” said Phil, glad he wasn’t the only one who had nearly forgotten. Nikki was in her bakery, where it was much warmer than outside in the snow, and the smell of something sweet, but not too sweet, hung gently in the air. Phil stepped in and instantly felt much better about everything. 

“Hullo Nikki!”

“Hullo Phil,” Nikki said, pulling a cake her out of her oven, “It is Technoblade’s birthday today, and so I thought it would be a good idea to make him a cake.”

“Ah yes,” Phil said. He hadn’t even thought of making Technoblade a cake, even though such things were indeed customary at birthday parties. “Cakes are great for birthday parties. I would have made him one myself, of course, but I am not much of a cake maker, and more of a fireworks maker.”

“Cakes are good for birthday parties,” Nikki agreed. “and I am sure you are great at firework making.” 

Phil also realized that Nikki had remembered Technoblade’s birthday before he had remembered it. Nikki didn’t need to know that, she was on a need-to-know basis, if you will. “I, too, have remembered Technoblade’s birthday, as all good and proper friends should, and I have decided that we should wake him up for his birthday at three o’ clock this afternoon.” He smelled the cake and looked very closely, but not too closely, at the purple icing that Nikki had just pulled out of her pantry. “Would you like to come to the party?”

“Of course,” said Nikki, “Have you already told Ranboo? I’m sure he would be devastated to miss out on it.”

“Yes, I did,” said Phil, “And I think we all would be.” 

They stood there for a moment, thinking about how much everyone in the Syndicate cared about Technoblade, and how they had all grown incredibly fond of him, and how they would be devastated to miss out on such an Occasion as his birthday.

After they had given it a moment of consideration, Phil helped Nikki finish baking her cakes. Then he helped her carry them up to the cottage, and Nikki helped Phil set up a table outside with chairs, including one for Steve, and generally prepared for the birthday party. Ranboo, having never attended a party before, was practically buzzing with excitement, and talking to each of them very loudly about what he thought it might be like, and how much fun they were going to have.

At last, the party was all set up, and they went to poke Technoblade to get him to wake up from hibernation.

“Surprise!” They all said together when he opened his eyes, “Happy birthday!”

“Oh!” said Technoblade, struggling to stay awake, “Is it my birthday today?”

“Yes,” said Nikki, “You told me that June 1st is your birthday.” 

“So it is,” confessed Technoblade.

“How old are you turning?” Nikki asked innocently.

Technoblade paused for a moment trying to remember. 

“Ninety-seven,” he responded finally. This was not how old he was.

Fortunately, nobody asked him anymore questions about it and they all went outside to have cake and look at fireworks. 

Nikki presented her cake with purple icing and cut everyone a slice.

“This is the best cake I’ve ever had,” Technoblade said, “Where did you get it?”

“I baked them myself,” Nikki said, glowing with happiness, “at my bakery. I’ve been baking again recently.”

“Cake is always better than pie,” Technoblade remarked, and everyone agreed, even Steve. “Except pumpkin pie is alright.” 

“I don’t like pumpkin pie,” said Phil, “But I’ve only had it once, so maybe it isn’t that bad.” 

“I could make some for you sometime.” Nikki offered, and they all agreed that if Nikki made it then it would probably be the best, and being the best, would be enjoyable even for someone like Phil.

When they had all eaten enough, Philza Minecraft stood up, and everybody stopped talking and were very silent, except Ranboo who had eaten a bite that was a little too large and was having a fit of hiccups. 

“This party,” said Philza, “is a party because of our appreciation for someone who we all appreciate very much, and we are celebrating him turning…” Phil couldn’t remember how old Technoblade was either, “one year older.” He felt around underneath the table for his fireworks, “And I have got a present for him.”

Technoblade was very happy and smiling but he tried his best not to look too eager. When he saw what it was though he could not stop himself from smiling so much he was practically glowing.

Phil held up the present, seeing that Techno was happy and knowing that Ranboo’s advice had been very good advice, “They’re fireworks! I have spent all morning working on them, and I think they will be perfect.”

“I bet they will be,” Techno said, and he meant it, knowing that Philza Minecraft’s crafting knowledge far exceeded his own.

Now all of them were very happy, because Technoblade was happy, and Phil loaded some brightly packaged fireworks, lit them, and set them off in a vibrant display of colors against the white snowy backdrop. They made various shapes in the sky and came in different layers, some of them changed from one color to another.

Everyone ooh-ed and ahh-ed.

But Technoblade was confused. The fireworks did Not look special to him, they looked Dull and Patternless. This was very confusing and surprising as they were made by Phil Himself. But everyone else was ooh-ing and ahh-ing, and it seemed like the right thing to do, so he did it politely along with them.

After Phil had already set off three of his special fireworks, Nikki noticed that Techno looked confused and said, “Technoblade, can you see the fireworks?”

“Well, I can see the colors a little,” he admitted sheepishly, not wanting to upset Phil, who he was sure had worked very hard on them.

“That doesn’t sound right,” said Phil, “you should be seeing the colors a lot not just a little.”

“You’ve forgotten your glasses,” Nikki pointed out.

“Oh,” said Techno, now feeling very silly.

Ranboo saw an opportunity to be helpful even without knowing what a Birth Day party was. “I’ll go get them for you.” He ran into the house and back very quickly and handed Technoblade his glasses.

“Thank you Ranboo,” Technoblade said. Everything looked sharper now, he could see the snowflakes and Ranboo’s large enderman eyes much more clearly.

“Let’s try again,” Phil said, and he set off a few more of his fireworks and they all ooh-ed and ahhh-ed, and Technoblade did not have to fake it as he could actually see them this time, and they were beautiful, and everything that one would expect from Philza himself.

Since this was everything they had planned to do, everyone talked for a little while longer, just enjoying each other’s company and laughing. Then they drifted off, after saying their goodbyes, and congratulated Technoblade on his new age, whatever that might be. 

But Phil and Techno stayed outside in the snow together for a long time and silently watched the sun set in the distance.

“When you finally wake up after hibernating, Techno,” Phil said at last, “what is the first thing you like to do?”

“I like find out how Steve and you and Ranboo are doing,” Technoblade said. “What do you do, Phil?”

“When I first wake up, I always wonder to myself what exciting thing will happen today.” 

Technoblade nodded thoughtfully.

“Yes,” he said, “It’s the same thing.”

[tooweirdforyou]

Luffy With A S/O Who Has A Tattoo Of The Jolly Roger

A/N : this is a request from my sister so I’m excited to post this! This was actually really cute so I hope you enjoy! :)

Summary : In which, one day, Luffy finds out about his female significant other’s hidden tattoo of the crew’s Jolly Roger.

note : if you all would like a post of where the crewmates might have their Jolly Roger, or have any ideas or thoughts yourselves, please share! I’d love to hear it.

-

“The crew is rather lively today, aren’t they?”

You smile at the sight of Luffy running around with a water gun, chasing after Usopp and Chopper and spraying them with it.

Nami and Robin sat on the lawn chairs beside you, the shade of the umbrella taking over your bodies to protect from the heat of the sun.

Nami was wearing a white bikini, Robin wearing a black bikini top with a white skirt that reached her knees, while you settled in a white tank top and some light blue denim shorts.

Sanji was coming down from the upper deck, having just exited the kitchen with a silver plate of beverages on top.

Brook and Franky sat off to the side, Brook drinking his tea and enjoying the sight of the trio, while Franky watches in amusement as well, whilst tinkering with his torso.

Zoro laid by the railing, swords at his side and arms crossed with his body leaned back. His eyes were closed and he was resting, but you could tell he was listening in to everything.

“They always are.. it seems we can never get just ten minutes of peace.” Nami exhales heavily, shaking her head disappointedly as the sound of yells and laughter filled the air.

Nami’s comment caused Robin to giggle as she turns the page in her book, that was resting on her lap.

“It’s always fun with them around.” She points out, keeping her eyes trained on her book.

You laugh along as well, Nami only sulking for a brief moment before seeing Sanji returning with fresh drinks for them.

“Nami-swan~, Robin-dear~, [Name]-chan!~ here are your freshly made beverages!~” Sanji sang, lowering his hand with the plate down, setting down the drinks onto the table for the three of you.

“Thank you, Sanji.” You and Robin thank the blonde in unison, Nami immediately grabbing the glass and smiling brightly. “Thanks, Sanji.”

As Sanji swoons at the three of you, you turn back to your captain and lover and call out to him with a grin.

“Luffy! Are you thirsty? Come here, Sanji made drinks!”

Ignoring Sanji’s small protests that it was only meant for the ladies, Luffy’s eyes lit up and he grins brightly right at you. “Ooh, yeah!”

He quickly runs over, still dodging Usopp’s and Chopper’s water attacks with ease before landing right in front of you.

His straw hat hung around his neck, resting on his upper back and wore nothing but his red shorts. Water glistened against his skin in the sun from the splashes of water from Usopp’s shot.

“Seems like you’re having fun.” You sit up from your chair and held out the fresh glass that Sanji had placed down for you, holding it out for Luffy, who took it after thanking you.

Luffy stands in front of you and brings the glass to his lips, taking a long sip before exhaling in satisfaction.

Luffy smugly grins. “Shishishi~, Yeah, I keep hitting Usopp and Chopper easily! They kind of suck at aiming.” He mindlessly states aloud with a laugh, Usopp’s brow twitching at his words.

“Oh yeah?..” Usopp began fiercely pumping his water gun before smirking and pointing it at Luffy’s back. “I’ll show you the skills of Mighty God Usopp! Sniper King!” He shouts and pulls the trigger instantly.

Luffy only grins cheekily and moves aside before the water made impact.

Unfortunately, you became the target.

With Luffy having moved aside, you were shot in the face which resulted in your clothes and body to become wet and completely soaked.

“Haha! You missed again!” Luffy laughs wholeheartedly at the sight of your wet form, pointing at Usopp as he doubled over from laughter.

Nami and Sanji gasps at the sight, Sanji’s anger building up as he shouts at Usopp. “USOPP! YOU BETTER GET DOWN ON YOUR KNEES AND APOLOGIZE RIGHT NOW! HOW DARE YOU SHOOT [NAME]-CHAN!?”

Usopp sweatdrops at Sanji as Brook’s laughter fills the air. “Yohohoho~ that was quite unexpected!” Franky joins in the laughter as well. “That was definitely a suupperr~ shot!”

Robin giggles and smiles. “That was certainly quite the aim. Are you alright, [Name]-san?” She hums, turning over to you, who was recovering from the shock and wiping your wet face.

You couldn’t surpress the smile forming as you chuckle lightly yourself. “Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just water.”

Seeing Chopper walk over with a hand towel, you smile gratefully to the little reindeer who was currently in his monster point.

“Sorry, [Name]! We didn’t mean to get you involved.” He apologetically smiles, you taking the towel from his hands and began wiping your face.

“No worries, Chopper.” You assure him, standing up straight to go change when Nami audibly gasp at the sight of your back, her eyes widening.

“Huh? What’s that on your back, [Name]?”

Since you got wet, your shirt was wet as well and the water expanded towards the back of your shirt, so it exposed your skin.

You hum questioningly and turn around to see her eyeing your back, the others widening their eyes at the sight of it, besides Zoro and Luffy.

“Woah! Is that what I think it is, [Name]?!” Usopp gasp in awe at the sight.

“When did you get that done, [Name]-san?” Robin asks, sitting up and setting her book onto the table.

“My, that’s quite a magnificent sight.” Brook hums, nodding at it.

“YA-OW! That looks great, [Name]!” Franky grins, giving a thumbs up towards you.

“It’s really cute! When did you do it?” Nami smiles, leaning closer to inspect it properly.

“No matter what it is, even if it was something else, it sure looks amazing on you, [Name]-chan~!” Sanji swoons, admiring it.

“Ah, it looks amazing, [Name]!” Chopper compliments, returning to his smaller usual form.

You bring the towel down from your face and smile at the others. “Thanks! I got it done in the last island we visited.”

“Got what done?” Luffy tilts his head in confusion, crossing his arms at the others’ awe of your back.

He didn’t understand. You didn’t look different. “Did you get a haircut or something?”

You laugh softly at him and shake your head at his question. “Nothing like that. Here.”

You turned around and moved your hair and towel down. You then lifted the hem of your shirt to expose your lower back.

Zoro, who was listening in, opens his eye to see what the crew was so excited about. His eye widens before a small smirk took over his lips. “I see, not bad.” He hums, approving of it.

Luffy just blinks a bit, staring at your back blankly before his eyes widens in surprise, completely shocked from the sight.

“EHH?! NO WAY!”

Right on your back, similar to the place Ace had his tattoo, was your own tattoo of the ship’s Jolly Roger, just a bit lower.

A skull with crossbones, as well as a straw hat, printed cleanly across your skin and matched well, as if it was always there from the beginning.

“Cute, right?” You grin at Luffy’s reaction, pulling down your wet shirt again and faced your captain.

“I thought it’d be nice to have the mark of the Straw Hats. What better than the Jolly Roger?”

The others smiled at your response and hum. “The tattoo looks great, [Name]. I wish you could have told us, maybe we could have had one with you.” Nami sighs and you giggle softly.

“Don’t worry yourselves about having to get one. If you guys want one too, be my guest, but this was just my own choice is all.” You say, waving your hand dismissively towards her with a gentle smile.

“Man, that’s so cool! Why didn’t you tell me about this before?!” Luffy eagerly shouts, eyes turning into stars for a moment before he looks up at you excitedly.

“I guess I must���ve forgot.” You sheepishly hum, rubbing the back of your neck with your hand. “Anyways, at least you guys saw it now.”

Before the others could question you any further, you pick up your stuff left on the lawn chair and smile at the crew. “Well, since I’m soaking wet and I’m getting cold, I’m going to go ahead and shower first.”

With that, you began walking off with a small hum of a tune, making your way over towards the bedroom to grab your change of clothes first.

Luffy watches as you go, a small grin still across his face as he chuckles heartily. “Shishishi, I didn’t know [Name] had a tattoo of the Jolly Roger. That’s really cool!”

“It is unexpected of her to suddenly get a tattoo or mark out of the blue.. but that’s our [Name]-san! Yohohoho!~” Brook joyfully laughs, Usopp smiling and nodding in agreement. “It’s definitely the real thing, it looks just like it too.”

“I wonder why she chose her back of all places though.” Chopper innocently hums, glancing down at his water gun and shook it to see if there was still water in it.

“In any case, it looks great and that’s all that matters. For now, I’ll get started on dinner.” Sanji smiles, taking a cigarette out of his carton and lit it up with his lighter.

“EXTRA MEAT FOR DINNER, SANJI! MEAT! MEAT! MEAT!”

“ALRIGHT ALREADY! STOP YELLING!”

-

You let out a satisfied and pleased breath, letting the towel rest around your shoulders and hair air dry. You wore a t-shirt and shorts this time, feeling comfortable from your shower.

Going into your bedroom, you became startled at the sight of Luffy sprawled across your bed with his eyes closed.

“Oh, Luffy.”

Hearing your voice, Luffy snaps awake and sits straight up. His body was still wet from earlier so it did dampen your sheets a bit, but you didn’t mind.

“[Name]. Took you long enough!” Luffy hums, crossing his arms with a pout forming on his lips. “I was waiting for you.”

Your eyes soften at his action and you smile lightly. “Sorry, Luffy. I lost track of time while I was in there.” You explain, making your way over to the dresser, picking up the hairbrush.

Luffy nods, signaling he understood as he watched you began heading towards him and took a seat at the edge of the bed, where it wasn’t wet.

You began brushing your hair, noticing that Luffy was staring at you and you glance over. “Something wrong?”

“Can I see it again?”

Knowing what he meant, you turn so your back faced him and lifted the back of your shirt to expose the skin.

Luffy stares blankly for a few seconds before giving a small smile.

“..you chose that spot for Ace, didn’t you?”

Your eyes widen at his question before a gentle smile appeared on your lips. Nodding, you spoke. “Yes, I did.”

Luffy looks down, his smile widening slowly before he eventually looks back up with a cheerful grin and closed eyes.

“I see. Shishishi! Well, it looks great!”

Luffy reaches his hand over and carefully glided his fingers across your tattoo-covered skin, admiring the sight of his mark on your back.

A warm smile casted over his face as he then pulls your body back into his chest and hugs you tight.

“On the next island, I’ll get the same as you, but I’ll get it on my chest! Sound good?” Luffy hums, arms wrapping around you as you leaned into him.

You chuckle heartily at him and nod. “Sounds good, Luffy.” You turn your head and peck his cheek lightly, causing Luffy to smile wider.

Luffy returns a kiss onto your head and smiles lovingly with pink-tinted cheeks.

“I love you, [Name]!” Despite his voice sounding so cheerful and childish, it was the most sincere tone you’ve heard from him.

You smile back at him with closed eyes, hands placing themselves onto Luffy’s arms around you as you curled into him more. “I love you, Luffy.”

“Oi, dinner’s ready!” Sanji’s voice calls from the kitchen, and you hum. “Mmh, it seems Sanji has finished cooking.”

“Yeah, Sanji made lots of meat! Let’s go already, [Name]!” He quickly lets go of his hold on you, leaping off the bed as you sat up straight and fixed your shirt.

“Okay.” Luffy grabs your hand and began pulling you up and out of the room, quickly heading to the kitchen to feast on the delicious dinner awaiting you both.

“Time to eat!”

-

A/N : heyyy, hope you guys liked this and enjoyed! :D I thought it was cute.

[ackerfics]

your eyes still shined, like pretty lights — mikasa ackerman

— mikasa ackerman x female reader (modern au)

— request by anon: ooh how about some childhood best friends to lovers with mikasa? also based from taylor swift’s mary’s song :)

— warnings: none? just too much fluff and a hint of angst :))

— summary: you never knew that being childhood best friends with mikasa would lead to you finding forever within her gray eyes.

— word count: 6.3k words

— author’s notes: i am so happy that this is my first request !! thank you for requesting this and i hope you enjoy reading this as much as i loved writing it. i never knew writing mikasa would evoke feelings i was so familiar with back when there were face to face interactions with people. i will be forever grateful for the request !! you are a gem.

i reposted this bc it seems like this didn’t appear in the tags :(( i hope this works now :”((

> just two kids, you and i

The scent of apple pies drifted across the Ackerman household, ensnaring the girl of black locks and starlit eyes inside her room on the second floor. It wasn’t a regular day in their neighborhood. For starters, there was a moving truck parked at the house beside them, men shouting for the furniture to be lugged inside the walls of the empty home one by one, and the quiet atmosphere was interrupted by what was ensuing in the neighboring house of the Ackerman’s. Mikasa, the only daughter of the household, wanted to satisfy her curiosity, which flared, even more, when her mother baked one of her special apple pies. Throwing away the homework her first-grade teacher gave them, the young girl padded across her room, opened the door with a bang, and ran towards the kitchen in an excited rush.

With wide eyes, she stood on her tiptoes and peered at the edge of the countertop. There was flour everywhere, or was it powdered sugar? Mikasa will never know unless she will have one taste of it. Just a little taste. And so she carefully reached out one arm to swipe the white ingredient off the counter.

“Mika, don’t even think about it.”

Mikasa froze in her tracks, looking up to meet her mother’s eyes. “But I wanted to know if this is powdered sugar.”

The older woman smiled endearingly at her daughter. “You could’ve just asked, you know? Besides, I think these apple pies are much better than the powdered sugar.” She turned to get one of the pies from the oven with her mittens, then facing Mikasa with a proud smile. “So what do you think? Will our new neighbors love it?”

“Everybody loves your pies, Mom.”

A laugh came from the woman’s lips, letting the delicacies cool down before putting them in a box for their neighbors to enjoy. What her daughter said was true. Every time the light of the Ackerman household baked treats for the neighborhood, she would always receive remarks that she needed to open her bakery, saying that every single one of her treats was divine. She wanted to open her bakery, even to the point of helping out one of her nephews who was starting to have a tea shop as a dream. Her daydreams were interrupted when she saw something move in her peripheral vision. Mikasa was once again reaching out to swipe the caramel apple toppings. “Mika, you will have your share later. For now, we’ll have to be patient, okay?”

The little girl pursed her lips in annoyance. She was getting tired of standing on her tiptoes anyway. She had nothing else to do — she ditched her homework, she was told to wait before eating the dessert, and she was bored out of her mind. The silence stretched on for a couple of minutes, all spent by Mikasa thinking hard on what interesting thing she should be focusing her attention on.

“You know, our new neighbors have a little girl your age, why don’t you introduce yourself to her?”

That was the only catalyst for little Mikasa to make her way to her room, getting the toys she wanted to show, as she brightened at the thought of making new friends. In her elementary school, nobody wanted to be friends with her, knowing that she was known for being blunt and introverted. She was trying her hardest but nobody lasted longer than a few months — they always found a new circle of kids to share their stories with and Mikasa will be left alone again. Her older cousin, Levi, always teased her (in the least condescending way possible) that she should get rid of that permanent frown on her face (like he was one to talk). But it was never Mikasa’s fault that their classroom was always stuffy, with the air conditioner not functioning well. Mikasa doesn’t like being cooped up in a room, sweaty because of the humidity. The little girl rather preferred the coolness of the library, which the other kids didn’t like at all. They wanted to have fun and run around the school’s playground the whole hour of their recess and lunch breaks.

So now, it was an understatement that Mikasa was excited. She even brought some of her toys with her to share with her new neighbor. She hoped the girl liked toy soldiers (it was a gift from Levi on her birthday last year).

The little girl her mother was talking about was sitting on the front porch swing bench.

You were smaller than she and Mikasa wondered how you ever sat in the high swing. Your head was hung down and it looked like you were coloring something, with the way your hands gripped the red crayon. The black-haired girl wanted to call out to you but she doesn’t even know your name. Taking a deep breath, the little girl of gray eyes mustered up her courage and tried quelling the pitter-patter of her heart.

Why was it beating so fast?

The moment she stepped on the lawn of the house next door, Mikasa was sure she was seeing the constellations in your eyes when you looked up to meet her expectant stare.

> take me back to the house in the backyard tree

Mikasa was eight when she had this crazy idea inside her head.

In the two years that the two of you were friends, you always talked about a little safe haven tucked from the eyes of the world. A place where the two of you can be yourselves. A place where magic can happen even in the smallest space. Your eyes would light up blindingly when you talked about the things you will put inside your safe space, Mikasa matching your starry eyes with her own, staring at you silently as you poured out your beautiful dreams to her. The last time the two of you had a sleepover, you were chattering about a hidden library that only opens at certain times at night. The next second, you were off narrating how the stars were the most amazing things that gave you comfort on nights where you miss one of your parents because they were working so late. Then, you were relaying the possibilities of having a little art studio where you’re not afraid of drawing one of your prompts.

Mikasa let you ramble with a smile on her face. She was always a listener, afraid that the shine in your eyes would die down when she would interrupt — you just look so beautiful. However, there were times where you asked her things like her hobbies and likes, almost as if you were listing them down in an imaginary notebook in your head, and it will always catch Mikasa off-guard. Stutters accompanied her answers to your questions, not used to being the center of attention when it should be you. You were just too bright and full of sunshine. When Mikasa mentioned this to you, you only grinned, “Then you’ll be my Moon, Mika. I’ll let you glimmer through the night.”

She never slept that night, staring at the moon through her open window while thinking about your words.

Now, her mission led her to her father’s study, face set in adorable determination.

“Mika? What brings you here?” Her father placed his hands on her waist, lifting her until she was situated on his lap. His focus immediately went to his laptop on his desk. Mikasa’s eyes went from her father’s face to the gadget’s screen. She knew her father’s job was something hard and fun at the same time but looking at what was displayed on the screen, she instantly thought that drawing houses was harder than it looks. There were lines that she never knew were supposed to be there, a sprinkling of equations not suited for primary school was scattered around the blueprint, making Mikasa dizzy enough to place a hand on her forehead. “Complicated, isn’t it?” Her dad asked her in amusement. “This is what your Dad does for a living, Mika.”

“You like drawing houses, right?” Mikasa looked up at her father, gray eyes twinkling.

Her father hummed, ruffling her hair before squinting at his laptop. “Yes, I do.”

“We have a big tree in the backyard, right?”

The man furrowed his brows. He looked down at his daughter who was still in a daze in front of his laptop’s screen. “Yeah, it’s pretty hard to miss, you know?”

Gray eyes matched his own as Mikasa lifted her head and squeezed her hands on her lap. “How about building a treehouse in our backyard?”

Her father’s sputter was the only thing she received as a reply but that didn’t stop Mikasa from smiling smugly, your haven becoming possible by the minute.

And nothing can compare to your star-struck face the moment you laid your eyes on your little castle with Mikasa months after it was finished.

The midnight-haired girl swore she once again saw the entire cosmos in your irises, sending her heart in a confusing tangle of beats.

> said you'd beat me up, you were bigger than me (you never did)

Mikasa was eleven when she realized that she will do anything for your happiness.

Friday afternoons were always reserved for your and Mikasa’s many traditions: watch the movies the two of you borrowed from the rental shop downtown, snack on Mikasa’s treats and your mom’s sandwiches, immerse yourselves in video games until dinner was called. It was a celebration for surviving the end of the week — something that kept the two of your going. Your mom never lets you watch television throughout the week, the time was only spent studying and focusing on academics, which must be why you were one of the top students in your primary school. Fridays were your breathers, it reminded you that there was still happiness lingering after a week of pouring everything to not disappoint your parents. And you were happy that you get to spend this with Mikasa of all people.

The movies you two watched were all romantic comedies that your mothers suggested. You were a crying mess while Mikasa only stared at the television with a blank face. She never understood how everything in the movie moved you so much when it was just a pair of people expressing how much they meant to each other. You have that in your life — your parents, your two friends who you recently introduced to her, your dog, and her. Mikasa has always told you how much you meant to her through the littlest of things, the animated little girl when you were kids becoming a soft-spoken pubescent that supported you with little actions. And now, Mikasa didn’t want to see you cry because it didn’t sit right with her. You should be smiling because that’s when you were the most beautiful for her.

“Here, figured the movie would make you cry,” the black-haired girl told you, pushing the box of tissues in your direction.

You sniffed, lips pursed and wobbly. You took out some tissues from the box and proceeded to blow your nose, Mikasa’s hand forming a pattern of soothing circles on your back. “They died together. It was so bittersweet.”

Mikasa thoughtfully stared at your hands that were fiddling with the box of tissues. “At least she remembered him.” She lifted her eyes to meet your teary ones, breath hitching and thoughts forgotten as she blinked at how the lights from the television made your irises have silver flakes on them. Looking away without moving her head, Mikasa cleared her throat. “But they can still do everything as long as they love each other. I guess it’s not a sad ending, it’s not a happy one, either. I think it’s fitting for the two of them.” She carefully reached out a hand and wiped away a stray tear at the corner of your eye, lingering her palm against your cheek. “But if the movie made you cry for varying reasons, it means you understand their feelings, of the characters, I mean. Plus, your tear ducts are still functioning.”

A bubble of giggles came from you. You stared at her with soft eyes that pinched Mikasa’s chest. “What would I do without you, Mika?”

“Probably die in a ditch or something.”

“Hey!” You playfully pushed her side, Mikasa’s slight chuckles tickling your ears. “That’s mean. I never knew our friendship could amount to a thing such as bullying.”

She ruffled your hair with a small smile. “It’s a once-in-a-blue-moon experience.” The black-haired girl then turned around, rummaging for something besides the box of movies you rented for the rest of the day. Two video games were presented in front of you with a faux look of seriousness painting your best friend’s face. “Now, how about we play some games to alleviate the sad atmosphere brought by the movie we just watched?”

“You’re on.”

A few rounds of racing games later and you were becoming agitated. Mikasa always won against you at any type of game you two dedicated your time on. At the moment, you were ranked second, meters away from Mikasa’s selected car model. You were always brushing off your poor gaming and strategic skills, blaming your loss on the equipment you picked, saying that the stats are the absolute worst because Mikasa always took the best-looking car in the choices. All of the cars present in the racing game were all good and it depends on the gamer on how they’ll manage with the listed specs. You maneuvered your red racing car to one of the shortcut routes, your side of the screen displaying a forest terrain that neither of you ever ventured in before. You can see Mikasa glancing at you from the corner of your vision, making you speed up, only for you to be thrown off course by some traps plugged in by the developers. There was a standby screen flashing in front of you, not knowing how Mikasa slowed her car.

When the countdown finished, your car was able to move again and this time, you tried to take it slow since Mikasa might have won the game by now. To your surprise, your name was the one displayed on the screen instead of your best friend. She was awarded third place instead of the second when you could’ve sworn she was just a few meters from the finish line. You looked at her curiously, wondering what happened.

She glanced at you before looking down on her controller thoughtfully. “I guess I messed up, too. I thought there are no traps in front of the finish line but it turns out a bomb was implanted at the side of the track.”

There were no traps in front of the finish line and your giddy smile was picture perfect as you celebrated your first win against Mikasa.

> i dared you to kiss me and ran when you tried

Mikasa was fourteen when she realized that her heart was beating for you, something that wasn’t appropriate between best friends.

“Okay, for this small party, we’ll be playing Truth or Dare!” Connie exclaimed, the smell of his father’s stash of beer coming out of his mouth.

Your little world with Mikasa extended and created a universe with unlikely people that you never imagined would be your friends.

It all started with Armin and Eren, the two boys who became your friends in primary school. Armin was one of the smartest people in your middle school, already getting a sure spot in your town’s high school, being the candidate for valedictorian. Meanwhile, Eren was one of the members of the school’s soccer team, which in turn brought along his teammates, Reiner and Jean. The latter person in Eren’s little circle in his soccer team claimed that he and his two friends, Sasha and Connie, were a package deal. It was funny because Sasha was befriended by you and Mikasa way before the two of you knew she had some connection with the soccer player. The brown-haired girl was your seatmate in History. When you heard her stomach grumble (the subject was set before lunchtime and everyone was practically hungry after the morning hours), you offered your bar of chocolate to her. There you found your other best friend, her hugs and gushes of ‘I love yous’ made the first interaction unforgettable.

The small party held in Connie’s house was thrown because you were all graduating the following week. The short boy was ecstatic while planning out the mini-event, even threatening to kick out Sasha when she became hungry while preparing the snacks. Since the party was not limited to your friend group, Reiner invited some of his friends — Annie, Bertholdt, and Ymir. Connie was overjoyed that he was finally getting popular, to which Ymir shut down, saying that she needed the booze (she fought with Historia, her on-off girlfriend, leading to their nth break-up).

“Ugh, man,” Eren groaned. “Do you even remember what happened the last time we played Truth or Dare?”

Jean snorted. “Nobody asked you to do the dare, idiot. You could always take the shot.”

“Well, I don’t want to smell like booze when I go home, horse face. Mom’s going to kill me.”

“Who in their right mind would jump into the freezing lake naked then, Eren?”

You chuckled, remembering how Eren talked your ear off when he went home after his retreat with the soccer team. He claimed that his dick was numb to the point that he couldn’t feel anything while jerking off. Mikasa had to cover your ears while he went to that part and Armin was begging for the brown-haired boy to stop tainting his mind.

“Okay, can you guys stop arguing for just one minute?” Sasha pleaded through a mouthful of hash browns. “I’ll start spinning the bottle now!”

The game started quite well. Armin had to perform a dance number in front of all of you because Sasha wanted to let everyone know how awesome Armin was at dancing. Jean chose truth and was asked who he found hot among the girls his year. (Nobody missed his subtle glance at Mikasa, who was focused on the drink in her glass.) Reiner was asked who he last hooked up with and surprisingly, he downed a shot instead of answering. When Sasha chose dare, Reiner thought it was a good idea to witness the girl put as many marshmallows in her mouth without stopping. (Sasha managed to empty the bag.) Annie was dared to text her crush and the next second, Armin’s phone dinged with an incoming message. You and Sasha cooed at the blonde boy’s burning face. Mikasa also chose truth and drank her shot when she was asked by Annie about the person she likes. (Jean perked at this but quickly deflated when the black-haired girl held no hesitation in drinking the shot.)

Then, the bottle landed on you.

Your eyes met with Mikasa, knowing that she will be the one asking the infamous question of ‘truth or dare?’

“Dare.”

Sasha and Connie ooh’d at the background.

“I dare you to kiss the person you’re thinking about a lot.”

It was a masked question. Mikasa wanted to ask you about your recent crush but she had to be conspicuous about it. Of course, she noticed how you and Eren became close these days. Always sitting with each other during lunch and how the green-eyed boy always offered his jacket whenever you felt cold. She had to confirm it. She didn’t want Armin to pick up on her nerves every time she witnessed how Eren looked at you like you placed the stars in the sky. She was only worried for you since Eren had the most experience when it comes to dating among the four of you, having only dated one person the whole duration of middle school.

However, Mikasa didn’t expect you to place a hand on her cheek, your face inches from hers.

The entire circle became silent, jaws dropped at the scene unfolding in front of their eyes. Mikasa didn’t pay them any attention. Her eyes were wide while yours were hesitantly trained on her lips. She didn’t register that you whispered along the lines of only kissing her cheek. Her heart was threatening to burst out of her chest. Her face was burning with a beautiful shade of rouge. Her mind was muddled, panicking that you were so close to her. Mikasa remembered the times you left her breathless. They were unexpected moments that only occurred in a mundane situation but it was you. You were different from the people in Connie’s house right now. You were a force to be reckoned with, always interrupting Mikasa’s focus during class because you were there in her thoughts. You were a sight to behold, having a fair share of admirers, one of them being Mikasa, to which she was never aware until now. You were everything held tightly in a small body that fit exactly against Mikasa's when the two of you hug after a bad day.

You were so beautiful.

But Mikasa couldn’t handle the continuous pounding of her heart.

She turned around and immediately darted to the bathroom, leaving you frozen along with your gawking friends.

Oh, how Mikasa regretted running away the moment the door was flat on her back.

> take me back to the time we had our very first fight

Mikasa was eighteen when she heard the words she dreamed of coming from your lips.

“Why don’t you go back to Eren?” Mikasa grumbled, her eyes glaring at the road in front of her, knuckles white from gripping the steering wheel a little too tight. “Why would you even go home with me? He was offering to drive you back and you’re here sitting in my car.”

There was no reason why she was being angry right now. The past years in high school were pure torture for Mikasa and the soccer game that happened hours prior was the cherry on top of the sundae. When their school’s soccer team won at the final game of the seniors, she had to watch Eren pick you up, laughing while twirling you around. Everybody knew how much Eren liked you since he wasn’t afraid of expressing his feelings to a crowd of people. However, even with Eren’s efforts of wooing you, you always brushed it off, saying that he is still one of your best friends. There was no denying that Eren was courting you with the whole school as the witness. It was like a love story waiting to hit its climax — two childhood friends intertwining their fates together until they found forever with each other.

Mikasa had to suppress a groan at the thought. Maybe she watched too many romance movies to think straight at the moment. She honked the horn too loudly, making you flinch in the passenger seat. Her gray eyes were a raging storm and even the biker at the side of the street wasn’t safe as she turned her head to the window, shouting, “Hey, there’s a bike lane for a reason!”

“Mika, calm down,” you pleaded.

She scoffed in disbelief, remaining silent even though you were expecting to hear her answer.

“Why are you so angry right now? I don’t know how to fix this if you’re going to be so quiet over it.”

The car stopped in front of your house and you didn’t even notice how Mikasa practically broke the speed limit. It was a good thing there weren’t any cops doing their patrols on your side of town. Now that there was finally time for you to ask her questions, you turned to face her. You pursed your lips at the sight of her stony visage, face still so beautiful that it made your sketches of her look like nothing.

Mikasa has been ignoring you the past few weeks. You noticed that it was only when Eren was around. You looked away at the thought, heart-pounding that maybe Mikasa finally realized her feelings for the green-eyed boy. You never fail to notice how she was constantly hovering around the boy, reminding him of the schoolwork he was missing or his forgotten lunch. It always squeezed your chest too hard.

You tried reaching for her hand, only to be swatted away. “Mika,” you whispered brokenly.

“Do you like Eren?”

Oh, so that was it.

You schooled your expression in a blank one, licking your lips in nervousness. She wanted to make sure there was nothing between you and Eren so that she can finally tell him her feelings. “Why are you asking that?”

“Stop answering my questions with another question.”

You had enough of this. “Then what do you want me to say?”

Mikasa threw her hands up in the air, shrugging her shoulders in disbelief. “I don’t know! Your honest answer, I guess. It seems to me like you do like him. With you, all cuddled up with that long-haired idiot every single day. Is it the long hair? Do you like people with long hair? If that’s the case, I’ll grow my hair! Just give me a few years at most.”

You looked at her in confusion and frustration. “What are you talking about, Mikasa?”

She flinched. You never called her by her full first name. It was always Mika for you. She was always Mika for you. You were the only one allowed to call her that aside from her parents. Mikasa turned abruptly, taking you by surprise as she placed both of her hands on your arms, firmly grasping them to make you meet her desperate eyes. “I’m just making sure that you don’t like him because...” She faltered, not knowing what to say next. Is she even confessing to you right now? Years of pent-up feelings beginning to rise and overflow because of the stars gradually appearing in your eyes. Her mouth was running on its own and she was beginning to feel the shame bubbling in her stomach.

“Because … Eren is not the only one who looks at you like you placed the stars in the sky. He’s not the only one wanting to keep you warm on a cold day. He’s not the only one experiencing euphoria whenever you’re around.” She blinked away the tears building in her eyes.

“He’s not the only one in love with you.”

“You are so dense, you know?”

“What?”

Mikasa reeled back but your hands finding their way on top of hers stopped her from backing away any further. Now, you were the one looking at her like she created the entire universe in front of your eyes. You were looking at her like she’s the first snowflake making its way on top of your nose. You were looking at her like those times you were inside your treehouse, under the fairy lights hung on the walls. You were looking at her as if she was euphoria personified. Because she is. Mikasa is so breathtakingly ethereal, your surroundings becoming more transparent by the minute as you focused on her. Gently transferring your hands on her cheeks, you pulled you close until both of your foreheads were tenderly pressed against one another.

“It’s you.”

Her breathing hitched.

“It has always been you, Mikasa Ackerman. Since that day you rejected my kiss when we were fourteen.”

Tears became more prominent in both of your eyes.

“Not Eren or anybody who was rumored to be going out with me.”

She closed her eyes tightly.

“I’m in love with you.”

Mikasa opened her eyes, revealing the entire cosmos you adored.

“I love you and only you.”

It’s not a dream, the two of you sharing your first kiss that was more than what the movies described.

> they never believed we'd really fall in love

Mikasa was twenty when she had the courage of telling the entire world you’re the love of her life.

“Oh, my God, I knew it!” Sasha screeched inside the café you and Mikasa chose to have your group study session. Most eyes inside the café turned to your table since Sasha planted her hands on your table with enough force to attract attention. You laughed nervously and apologized to some of the people inside the café but the brown-haired girl still showed no signs of sitting down. You can see Mikasa placing a hand on her forehead, sighing at the third member of your trio. Sasha, however, was experiencing the milestone of a lifetime. She flickered her gaze between you and your girlfriend, eyes sparkling in obvious excitement and adoration. “And thank God you two finally got together! I had to endure Mikasa moping around during high school.”

“We are dating for two years now,” Mikasa dryly stated. “We didn’t get together recently.”

You placed a gentle hand on hers, smiling at the black-haired girl before turning to Sasha. “We tried keeping our relationship a secret for two years but judging from your first statement, it seems like we couldn’t conceal it that well.”

Sasha finally sat down, picking up her fork with some unattended carbonara on her plate. “I had a hunch. Well, not only me, Connie and I. Ever since I got to know you, [Name], I always admired your friendship with our Mikasa here.” She pointed her fork at you and Mikasa. “Yes, Mikasa treated all her friends in some special way. For me, she tells me not to eat too much.” Mikasa eyed Sasha’s plates of lunch. “For Armin, she tends to be gentler, I mean, you know Armin, softest boy on the planet. For Eren, she’s like his mother.”

“Somebody has to do it.” Mikasa rolled her eyes, making you laugh. “He never listens to Carla any more.”

“But for you, missy,” the brown-haired girl leaned forward with a teasing smirk, “Mikasa becomes all of these. Who would’ve ever thought that that childhood friend story circulating between you and Eren became you and Mikasa instead?” She leaned back and shrugged. “I never liked Eren for you anyways.”

“Same,” the black-haired girl simply stated, taking a bite of her pizza before offering you some. “I heard you wanted this café’s pizza.”

“Thanks,” you murmured, taking a bite of the pizza Mikasa was holding in front of you. “Annie’s right, the pizza in this restaurant tastes amazing.” You felt your girlfriend’s thumb brushing at the corner of your lips, wiping the pizza sauce smeared there.

The brown-haired girl sitting in front of you two squealed with hands covering her mouth. “You two are so cute together!” Yours and Mikasa’s face flushed, making Sasha gush again. The gray-eyed girl sighed deeply, placing her head on your shoulder to cover her red face, making you laugh at how adorable your partner is. “Wait, have you talked about this to your parents?”

You and Mikasa looked at each other, that Thanksgiving dinner flashing through your minds at the moment.

You were supposed to be enjoying the scrumptious feast your and Mikasa’s mothers prepared but you and your girlfriend were too stiff to participate in the casual talk flittering the table. The previous night, Mikasa opened the idea of telling your parents that you were dating each other. At first, you disagreed because you have seen how this would affect Mikasa. There was a time where some old woman looked at you two while you were on a date, yelling that you two should break up and find some man instead of finding comfort with the same sex. The black-haired girl nearly broke down when you arrived at your shared apartment and you reassured her that their opinions shouldn’t matter as long as you have each other. But now, these are your parents, of course, their perception of your relationship will always matter. Those worries soon vanished when your fathers rejoiced, the negative thoughts replaced with tears of relief rolling down on your and Mikasa’s cheeks.

“It’s about time, you know,” your dad smiled.

“We were supposed to place a bet but we were scolded,” Mikasa’s father sheepishly admitted.

“You shouldn’t bet on the girls’ relationship!” Mikasa’s mother replied, her playful expression turned soft when she turned to you two. “Don’t ever think we would go against this. We have been watching you two grow up and we always knew that there was a possibility that you’ll come into terms with your feelings for one another.”

Your mom perked up with glee visible on her face. “So … when’s the wedding?”

You shared a laugh with the love of your life. “They’re planning a wedding as we speak.”

“Make me one of your bridesmaids please!”

“I think you’re suited to be [Name]’s maid of honor instead.”

“Hell yeah!”

> we were sitting at our favorite spot in town and you looked at me, got down on one knee

Mikasa was twenty-three when she knew you are the constant in her life.

Graduation was only a few months ago and you have never felt so happy in your life. Gone were the days slumped in front of your laptop way past midnight trying to perfect your thesis papers. Gone was the day where caffeine was the only thing keeping you going during exams. Gone were the days you had laboratory periods that span the whole half of the day. All the stress was piling up on your shoulders the past four years, molding themselves in a huge ball that made you think you carried the entire world as Atlas did. Now you got your degree and you were ready to settle with the person driving the car with ease along the road leading to your neighborhood. As you stared at her side profile, you smiled, knowing that she has been in every part of your life, in your downtimes and zeniths brought by your achievements. You vaguely remembered how the car stopped in front of Mikasa’s house, the two of you immediately making your way towards their backyard.

Years of care were seen in her mother’s flower and vegetable garden but the only thing that took your breath away was the treehouse she surprised you with when you were both eleven. You blinked at the pristine condition of the small castle in the canopy of green, your smile pulling on the corners of your lips. “I can’t believe it’s still here.” A hand made its way on the small of your back, its warmth seeping through your French chiffon floral dress. You looked up at Mikasa, her casual ensemble of her gray suit and white shirt sending your heart in a frenzy. You pulled on her collar, your lips meeting hers in a slow dance, her hand on your back transferring around your waist.

When you pulled away, Mikasa placed her forehead against yours, her breath tickling your face. “Let’s visit our castle, shall we?”

The inside of the treehouse was still the same as ever. Aside from the thick layer of dust covering every surface of the small abode, it still gave the same feeling when you first laid your eyes on it. The knick-knacks you and Mikasa placed were still in the same position as you left them. The star projector you brought when you were thirteen was placed in the middle of the treehouse. You made your way to it and a sea of stars filled the crevices of the treehouse after gently turning it on. A myriad of purples and blues painted themselves on the ceiling, swirls of galaxies accompanied the constellation map you knew by heart when you were a kid. You faced Mikasa, only for your breath to hitch at the sight of her kneeling on one knee on the dusty floor. The first thought coming to your mind was how the dust would cling to her gray slacks. But that quickly erased itself when Mikasa tenderly presented a small velvet box.

“You made me believe in love, magic, myself, and the universe,” Mikasa whispered things meant for your ears only. “The way you love me and the way I look at you makes life worth living. Every single minute I’ve spent with you, I wanted to stop time to preserve it in my memory. I wanted to swim in your divine because I swear, you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I promise to give you everything to make you the happiest woman in the world. I’ll still look at you like the stars that shine no matter how many years go by. You deserve the very best, someone who will back you up without limits, let you grow without borders, and love you without end. So, [Name],” she opened the small box, revealing the most beautiful piece of jewelry — a golden band with a sparkling diamond at the center of smaller gems shaped like stars, at the sides of the huge gem were crescent moons, “will you let me be the one?”

You were crying now, you never thought that this would happen.

The woman of your dreams was kneeling in front of you and there was only one answer that will seal your fate with hers.

“Yes, Mikasa, always and forever.”

> we'll rock our babies on that very front porch

Mikasa was twenty-five when she wanted a small family with you.

“How about using Eren?”

“Mika, why would you suggest that!”

“I mean, he has the hots for you.”

“I can’t believe you’re selling me to one of our friends.”

“Don’t leave my side. Here’s a kiss as an apology.”

“You’re lucky I love you, Mika.”

“And I love you, too.” Mikasa paused, turning the laptop to you as she opened the tab for one website she found. “How about adopting a toddler?”

You looked at a website displaying one of the orphanages in the city, chest filled with butterflies at the next step in your life with Mikasa.

“I think that’s a perfect idea, Mika.”

“I think so, too, Mrs. Ackerman.”

[bellamer]

Bucky's Dance Lesson

'It'll be fun' Sam said. 'It'll help you bond more with the boys' Sam said. 'Just try to get into their interests.' Sam said. No. No it was not fun. Okay, maybe a little bit but it was still hard.

"We're not leaving until we get this right." AJ said. "From the beginning let's go, Uncle Bucky."

Bucky groaned. The boys wanted him to recreate a dance they showed him on Tiktok but it was just so hard. Why were there so many steps ?!?

"Cass, hit record." AJ said. Cass nodded as he started recording on his phone. "Okay, follow my instructions and hurry up."

What Bucky wouldn't give for this hell to be over but he guessed he'd have to get it right.

"I said big bag bussin' out the bentley bentaga, Ooh ooh a baka baka bow, it's oh crack a bookie bookie boo, bap ba bap ba bap bap.",

What the hell was he even saying ?!? It sounded like he was scatting for God's sake but Bucky did his best to do the dance from memory.

"If it's- then it's- lean, then it's-if it's- then it's drat drat pop, up then it's up if it's- then it's, ha-" Then AJ made some sort of machine gun noise that he didn't understand but he didn't understand any of it so he just continued doing the steps.

"Ding ding ding, boop bop boop, huh." AJ said as Bucky stopped dancing, panting a little.

"Okay, how was that ? Are we done ?" Bucky asked.

"You did good, better than before." AJ said. "Now you just have to try it with the music."

Try it with the music ?!? Now he definitely knew that the boys were trying to kill him.

-

"Mom ! Uncle Sam !" The boys said, rushing into the house. "We did it !"

Sam rose an eyebrow as he took a sip out of his coffee.

"Did what ?" Sarah asked her sons.

"We taught Uncle Bucky how to dance !" Cass said, giving Sam the phone. Sam set his coffee mug down and pressed play on the video that was pulled up. There he saw Bucky, dancing to Up by Cardi B, looking like he might drop at any second. He snickered and passed the phone to Sarah, who immediately burst out laughing.

"Is that what you've been doing outside for the past three hours ?" Sarah asked, trying to calm her laughter.

"Uh-huh. Uncle Bucky said he was a good dancer so we wanted to teach him some new dances." Cass said.

"Well, where's Bucky now ?" Sam asked.

"He collapsed on the front lawn." AJ said.

'For a someone who's a super soldier, kids seem to wear him out easily' Sam thought to himself before getting up from his chair and heading outside, where he saw Bucky, laying on his stomach, spread out. Sam walked over to him and nudged him with his foot.

"You good ?" Sam asked his husband, who only groaned in response. "Come inside and we'll get you some nice cold water."

"Just leave me here..." Bucky groaned out. Sam rolled his eyes at the dramatics.

"Buck, come on, it'll make you feel better."

Just another groan as a response. Sam sighed.

"If you get up I'll give you a treat." Sam said. Bucky peeked up at Sam.

"What kinda treat are we talkin about ?" Bucky asked. Sam smirked and turned around.

"That's for me to know and you to find out~" he teased before walking back towards the house. Bucky swore that he saw Sam sway his hips when he walked, almost as to taunt him, In a flash, he was up, running after Sam so he could find out just exactly what his treat was.

[falseroar]

Treasure Hunt

((Dark goes digging for old memories, with some “help.” Nothing serious and not related to anything, just something short I wrote on my phone while my computer was out of service to keep up with my daily word count goal. I was going to post this yesterday, but, eh...*gestures vaguely at all that nonsense*))

“Are you going to bury a body?”

Dark stopped in his tracks and glanced over his shoulder at Wilford, the movement putting the shovel’s blade on his other shoulder perilously close to his cheek. “No, I am not. Unlike you, I don’t have a ready supply of those to hand.”

“What, you mean Jerry? Eh, he’s fine, he’ll walk it off,” Wilford said with a flippant wave of his hand. While it was true that his latest victim had survived, Dark silently thought he would not be walking off a bullet to the knee anytime soon. “So, what are you doing? Ooh, is it a treasure hunt? I can grab that new guy with the hat, turn it into a real bonding moment between the three of us, and we can let him walk in front in case there are any traps! Fantastic, I’ll go grab him right now!”

“No, Wilford, it’s not a treasure hunt.” Not in the strictest sense of the word, but his tone was at least enough to stop Wilford before he could go running off. “I’m just...It’s past time I checked on something. Don’t worry about it.”

“Why would I worry?” Wilford asked, falling into step behind Dark. He tapped his fingers against his mustache and remarked, “Not really sure I can remember the last time I worried about anything. Everything always just sort of works itself out in the end, you know?”

“I know,” Dark said, while he thought, “I know you think that’s how it works.”

But he just said, “I’ll be back later tonight.”

With that, Dark stepped out of the front door of the house and disappeared into the shadow that surrounded him, an ear-piercing ring growing and then immediately stopping the moment the shadow faded from sight. Wilford blinked and then shrugged, muttering to himself about making his own treasure hunt.

When Dark stepped out of the shadows, it was to find himself standing in the bright light of an early summer day, the sun adding some of the color back to his faded skin as he studied the remains of the manor in front of him for a moment.

He had no intention of going inside, of course, not today. No, his path took him around the perimeter of the overgrown yard, past hedges that had extended out to do battle with the lemon grass and the flowers that had escaped their beds in a bid to spread far and wide, the unmanaged plants all doing battle to gain supremacy over the neglected lawns. He had to pause multiple times and study the distance from the house, comparing the windows to the tree lines and the cracked and faded giant chessboard until he finally found the statue, its surface stained and worn until the face was practically a blank slate, one of its spread wings broken at the tip.

It looked smaller than he remembered too, but then a lot of things did.

Dark circled the statue once, taking in what time and weather had done to it, before he turned his back on it and began counting under his breath in time with each step.

“9...10.”

Dark stopped at a patch of grass and weeds no different than any other in the immediate area and raised the shovel he had borrowed from the shed the Author once used so regularly.

“You’re standing in the wrong spot.”

Dark stumbled, his attempt to stop the shovel mid-swing causing him to lose his balance. He swore under his breath and glared at Mark, wondering when he got here. “What would you know about it?”

“Only that a kid’s step doesn’t go as far as an adult’s.” Mark, dressed in shorts and a t-shirt that better matched the weather than Dark’s ever present suit, strolled over to the statue and stopped at the same place Dark started his counting to look up at its face. “Hello, baby.”

“I thought you hated statues.”

“Oh, I do. If that thing goes weeping angel on us, I will absolutely leave you here to die.” Mark grinned. “I didn’t think you’d remember, but considering where you’re standing, I guess you didn’t. Watch this, each step was more like...”

Mark looked down, carefully counting out each step that he shortened to the point that when he reached 10, he was barely halfway to where Dark stood. “See what I mean?”

“What I see is someone who doesn’t remember insisting on taking giant steps,” Dark said, resting the blade of the shovel against the ground as he leaned on the handle. “You practically skipped from there to here.”

“I have never skipped! And I can prove it, because unlike someone, I actually came prepared. Tactical shovel, which is clearly superior to a regular shovel—“

“Putting a knife on it doesn’t make everything better.”

“Says you. And a metal detector,” Mark continued, showing off both instruments that he’d been carrying. “Watch and learn.”

Mark flipped the switch on the detector and paused, before flipping it again when there was no response.

“Did you actually put batteries in it?”

“Of course I put batteries in it!” Mark glared at Dark’s smirk and opened the battery compartment. There was just a brief pause before he continued, “Give me a minute.”

By the time Mark came back with a working metal detector, Dark had already removed his jacket and hung it on one of the angel’s outstretched arms, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows as he dug.

“It’s the wrong place, I’m telling you,” Mark warned as he began to run the metal detector over the ground, but Dark ignored him and continued to dig.

Mark started at the statue and began to walk out, the crackle of the detector leading him past where he stopped and all the way to where Dark stood, a smug smirk on his face as the beeping grew louder and louder until it reached the hole he had already started.

“Well, are you going to start digging or not?” Dark asked.

Only because the hole wasn’t deep enough to push him into it yet, or at least that was Mark’s irritated thought as he tossed the metal detector aside and picked up his tactical shovel.

They tried to pass the time in silence, but before long it turned to bickering about who was doing more work and if “you spilled dirt on my side of the hole” and if there even was a “my side” when they were digging in the same place, but eventually Mark’s shovel hit metal. Both men looked at each other and then back down again as Mark hit it again with a loud clang that...didn’t actually sound right, now that they thought about it.

Dark knelt, careful not to let his knees actually touch the ground, and brushed the loose dirt away as Mark bent down next to him, both having just enough time to realize the rusted metal was that of a pipe before it broke open, unleashing a brief but sour spray of stagnant water into both of their faces.

After that, they found a different yet suspiciously similar statue on the other side of the yard, and a pink-mustached man waiting for them, standing on the plinth with his arm wrapped around the statue’s shoulder like they were an old friend, beaming when he noticed them.

“Well, there you two are! I was starting to wonder, you know.”

“Wait, you knew where I was going?” Dark asked. “Then why did you pretend not to know?”

“Know what?” Wilford gave the statue a peck on the cheek and leapt down onto the grass beside them. “Well, are you two just going to stand around here, or are we going to open this thing?”

He held out a dirty, banged-up tin case, the rust on its hinges doing more to keep it shut than the cheap lock used all those years ago.

Mark looked down and around, noting the lack of holes or any sign of a shovel or other digging instrument as he asked, “How did you get that?”

Wilford stared at him, mildly puzzled as he asked, “What, like it was hard?”

Mark’s tactical shovel dealt with the lock easily, and also left a gash in the side of the box that earned him a glare from Dark that he tried to ignore as he forced open the box to reveal its contents: a set of envelopes, childish handwriting addressing each to Mark, Damien, and William, a tiny metal soldier that Wilford picked up with a smile along with a few other old-fashioned toys, and a faded photograph that Mark lifted out gently, as though afraid it might fall apart in his hands.

Dark looked over his shoulder at the three boys posed for the camera, laughing with their arms thrown around each other. He felt a stir in his chest, a brief flicker of something that faded into a sad nostalgia.

He wondered if Mark thought the same thing, about how none of those three boys were still here, not really. Not after everything they had gone through, after what they had done and attempted to atone for, whatever that might be worth now. Dark had no illusions about what little Damien might think of him, the dark figure of noise and ringing and strange shadows that followed his every movement. Did Mark feel the same way? And what of Wilford, did he even recognize the three young faces smiling back at them?

Dark glanced at him and found Wilford smiling as he pulled an old compass that, surprisingly, still turned in his hand alongside a crinkly map drawn in what looked suspiciously like crayon. There was a twinkle in Wilford’s eye as he asked, “Do you two know where this leads?”

Mark looked at the map and frowned, while Dark shook his head and admitted, “I don’t recall making a map.”

“Well then, I suppose there’s only one way to find out.”

Wilford jumped to his feet, nearly knocking the time capsule out of Mark’s hands as he pulled the two of them up with him. “Who’s ready for round two of this treasure hunt?”

Mark closed the box and tucked it under his arm, then hefted his shovel with a look at Dark that he actually could understand.

“We did come all the way for this, might as well see what else is here, right?”

Dark sighed, feigning indifference as he said, “Well, I didn’t have anything else planned today...”

“Fantastic!” Wilford grinned and spread out the map so they could look. With any luck, neither of them would notice the crayons stashed in his back pocket, or how the map they were studying didn’t look quite as old as it should have.