#lots of feelings about the lost trio tonight

[gardenoftransexuals]

i've been thinking about the lost trio & they are sooo messed up. they never even got a chance to talk before jason died. they never got a chance to joke around or catch up with each other over everything that happened after gaea. they never got their happy reunion. jason died & then piper & leo couldn't even talk before they left. jason was literally their first tie to the demigod world & it is inextricably linked to him. now piper & leo live on opposite sides of the continent & they're learning to live with an ending that isn't happy. do you get what i'm saying

[harunovella]

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧ love language (verse iv); s.g.

synopsis: you and gojo go on your first double date... or is it really? content: canon divergence (teen!gojo era), fem!reader, hopeless romantic gojo, best bros satoru and suguru bickering as always, gojo may have had a 'help I've fallen on your boobs and I can't get up' moment, bestie shoko, not beta read (sorry for any errors!) note: another addition to my gojo anthology series! this one was sm fun to write, I love writing gojo and geto being nothing but idiots tbh... wanna be tagged? lmk in the replies!

"A dinner? A fancy dinner?" Shoko asked as you nodded. "What's a bunch of sixteen year olds gonna do at a fancy dinner?" She raised a brow in confusion. Ever since being paired by Yaga with Shoko, the two of you have grown quite close. You were more than thankful, as much as you loved your own little trio (including Nanami and Haibara), it was nice to have a friend that wasn't... well, a male. 

Not that there was something wrong with that, you saw Nanami like a sort of twin—though you were a bit more on the social side—he got along with you the most. Then there was Haibara, who was an absolute sweetheart and a gem, the energy both you and your blond twin needed. However, seeing as Ieiri was your senior, there was quite a lot to learn from her—outside from the jujutsu world. 

There was also Geto and Gojo... Geto was an interesting person to be around. He had dark humor but also was nothing but kind to you. Gojo, on the other hand...

"A double date?!" Satoru exclaimed as he was alone with Suguru after you invited the two young men to the dinner you told Shoko about. 

Arching an eyebrow, Suguru crossed his arms. "Who said this is a double date? In your delusional world, you're dating our little junior when she only sees you as a friend—"

"That's a lie!" Gojo snapped, earning a snicker from his best friend. "I'll have you know we get along very well, we hangout a lot! And— and we have a lot of fun conversations!"

"Sounds fun," Geto said sarcastically. "We all know you're madly in love with her. However, we have no idea how she feels about you."

"Then explain the double date, huh?" Gojo was now the one to cross his arms, tapping his foot. "You and Shoko, me and my mochi?"

Sighing, Suguru pinched the bridge of his nose. "Again, not a double date. It's four friends going to a nice restaurant to support one of our friend's family members. Nothing more, nothing less," he explained, only for everything to go into one ear and out the other for the white haired boy before him. 

Satoru was in his own world, delusional as always, eyes sparkling at the thought of you in a cute dress. Heels or no heels, makeup or not, he just couldn't help but fantasize about how beautiful you were going to look tonight!

"Earth to Satoru?" Geto waved his hand in front of his best friend, only to laugh. "Thinking about how cute she'll look tonight, huh?"

"Yeah..." Gojo nodded, a face of pure ecstasy, as if he were about to drool. 

"Maybe I'll swap dates, you can have Shoko, I'll have our beautiful—"

"No!" Satoru shouted, instantly jumping Suguru. "She's my date for the night!"

"Good luck with that, if you look like an idiot right now thinking about her, just imagine you tonight!" Suguru laughed as he shoved Satoru off of him. "You're gonna look like a complete idiot!"

"You're not discreet..." Geto mumbled towards Gojo as the young man sat beside you, cheek pressed in the palm of his hand as he ever so casually gazed at you. You were in the middle of a conversation with Shoko, something about a movie you both recently had seen together. Too lost in your discussion, laughing and enjoying the evening as Suguru watched his best friend look like he was in a trance. "You are literally staring..." Furrowing his eyebrows as a look of slight disgust took over his face, Suguru kicked Satoru. 

"Shh," Gojo brushed off, kicking him back. 

"You're lucky she's in her own world with Shoko to even hear us," Geto kicked again, feeling his best friend constantly kick back. Gojo was too focused on you to even pay him any mind.

The restaurant, although fancy, was quite lively and practically filled to the brim. The reservations were endless and everyone that came and went looked like they came from money. Satoru and Suguru wore similar suits, solely because they bought them last minute and ended up with the same look (Satoru was NOT happy, but Suguru found it very funny). Shoko, after seeing them, called them tweedledee and tweedledum... You, on the other, found it cute. 

Cute... Gojo kept hearing your words echo in his head. You thought he, himself, was cute?! Forget Suguru, you said he was cute! He couldn't help but indulge in it as he gazed at you practically the whole dinner. For a split second, he did acknowledge the fact that you looked beyond gorgeous. In a white, fitted dress, hugging your curves with a sweetheart neckline... It was safe to say his mind was split in two. In particular, the two brain cells he had. Half of his mind was floating in the clouds of your compliment while the other half was focused on the top of your breasts (practically where his eyes kept falling to). He was... somewhat of a gentleman, he just couldn't help that dirty side of him. You were beautiful! He wanted you!

In his defense, he was used to seeing you in your uniform jacket, skirt, and tights... the times you weren't, you were always dressed cute and comfortable. Never had he seen you like this, curves and all. 

Reaching over the table and yanking on Gojo's hair, Geto stifled a laugh as his best friend snapped his head and growled. "Rude, I was busy!" He hissed, reaching over and tugging on the bangs that hung over the dark haired young man's forehead. 

Caught up with your conversation with Shoko (and not entirely hearing the commotion beside you with all the various voices around you in the restaurant) a sudden gasp left the brunette as she watched it all happen before her in slow motion. Gojo and Geto shoved one another, completely forgetting where they were as others nearby watched in confusion. 

From one second to the next, you were knocked off your chair, head thudding with the ground as a body collapsed against you. Various gasps and whispers were heard as you winced. Blinking a few times and trying to sit up, you felt a pressure against your chest. Both Shoko and Suguru (who was pulled to his feet by Shoko), stared at the disaster before them. Satoru, with his face planted against your chest, as you stared at him, wide eyed. 

"Satoru!" Shoko exclaimed, smacking his head as he lifted it, staring at you with a shared blush, before both of his friends yanked him up. 

"I— I am so sorry!" He exclaimed, reaching for your hand to help you up as you looked stunned. 

"God, you two are so immature. Before we get kicked out, take her home and I'll handle this," Shoko tsked as you blinked, only to snap out of your daze. 

"It's— It's okay! I'll handle this! I invited you all—"

"No, you hit your head hard, let me handle this. Dummie over here will take you," Shoko kicked Satoru's calf. "Go. Now."

Without second thinking his actions, Gojo took your hand and lead you out. Both of you ignored the displeased stares and gossip that spread over the four kids who "shouldn't have been allowed into a restaurant like this in the first place." 

Walking out, Satoru stopped in his tracks before turning to face you. "I'm so sorry about... my face being in your... Anyway, are you okay?" He asked, using his free hand to gently touch the back of your head. "There's no bump, but, are you alright?"

"I— It's okay, I'm not hurt," you swore as you nodded your head, looking up at him with your doe eyes. Gojo swore his heart grew two times its size. "I promise," you softly smiled. 

Nodding, a small smile grew on the young man's lips. He couldn't help but gaze at you, softness in his eyes as he kept his hand on the back of your head. Silence weaved its way between the two of you. Nothing uncomfortable. You stood there for what felt like hours, looking at one another and nearly forgetting what you were doing or where you were. 

The sound of honking snapped the two of you out of it as you realized you were out in the open, with people walking by and cars driving along. 

Clearing his throat, Satoru lowered his hand from your head and kept his other in yours. "Let's get you home, yeah?"

tag list: @bakananya @strangehuman101 @thirtykiwis @sillygoosegoose (some of u I sadly couldn't tag!)

[riordanness]

change - [r.heffley]

1.6K wordcount

warnings: none

requested: no

I never would have guessed that the same day I lost my only friends would be the day I met my new one.

Heather Hills and I had been best friends since second grade. In fifth, Gracie Miller had made our duo a trio, and ever since then we'd been right as anything. Doing everything together, constantly hanging out and sleeping over at each others houses, planning birthday parties together and giggling over boys together.

But this year? Something was different. Heather and Gracie were acting strange. Like, I'd walk up to them while they were talking and they'd get all quiet, real fast. I'd catch them hanging out without me, finding out via social media.

I was trying to ignore the signs, acting as if everything was as it had always been. But I couldn't anymore.

At lunch earlier today, I'd suggested a visit to the mall after school. We hadn't hung out in a while, and I was missing my girls. Sure, we hung out at school everyday, but all the desks were two seater only. I'll leave it to your imagination who was the odd one out.

Besides, I was in desperate need for clothes. My mother had died when I was just a baby, and my dad was always struggling to make ends meet. I had recently grown out of basically all my clothing, so I'd been saving up every scrap of money I could, working odd jobs for all our neighbours, and finally had enough to go on a little shopping trip.

Heather wrinkled her nose. "I have a dentist appointment, and I'm too tired for the mall today."

I nodded. "That's fair. Get a good night's sleep, tonight, yeah?"

She gave me a tight-lipped smile. "Mhm."

I looked at Gracie. "What about you, Cee?"

She hesitated, glanced at Heather, then shook her head. "I- I have a lot of homework I need to catch up on. Sorry."

I smiled. "No worries. We'll find a time to go."

School had finished twenty minutes ago. I'd said goodbye to the girls at the gate, waved as they climbed into Heather's mum's car (Gracie always got a ride home with them as they lived basically next door to each other) and started the fifteen minute walk to the local mall.

Inside, however, I was met with a nasty surprise. Standing together at the smoothie bar, Heather and Gracie were giggling about something, drinks in hand.

I suddenly felt like I had no air. A lump grew in my throat, and I had to fight to not cry. I turn, and storm back outside. I collapse on a park bench a few hundred meters away, in a little sidewalk park.

Hot, angry, betrayed tears fill my eyes, and I don't stop them this time. I feel so stupid, so angry, so hurt. I should've known. I should have seen the signs, not ignored them like I'd tried to. They didn't want me around anymore. They didn't need me.

I don't know how long I stay there, crying, and silently screaming at myself.

Suddenly, I feel a hand on my shoulder. I glance up, startled, and hastily brush at my tears. My glasses have fogged up, a few tears staring the lenses. I pull a tissue from my backpack, and quickly wipe them clean.

"Are you alright?"

I glance again at the person. It's a boy, probably my age, with messy brown hair and pretty eyes. He wears a black tshirt with the words 'fuck the patriarchy' on it, with a blue and black flannel over the top. He has black converse, like me, and denim jeans, also like me.

"H-hi," I manage, my voice scratchy from crying. "Can I help you?"

The boy frowns in concern. "You were crying." He says it like a statement, not a question. Not like he's asking why I was crying, but rather just wondering if I was okay.

"I'm fine." I blink away the fresh tears threatening to rise. I won't cry in front of this cute guy again. Once is embarrassing enough. Twice would be unbearable.

"Okay," the boy says, in a voice that implies he doesn't even kind of believe me. "Want some company? You planning on going shopping?"

I frown slightly. "Uh, yeah. I need new clothes. I've been saving up."

The boy tilts his head. "What size are you?"

My eyes widen in surprise, but before I can speak he yelps a little, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I mean- No! I didn't mean it like that. It's just- I just- I have a lot of spare things I don't wear anymore and well, you look like you might fit them. No use using your savings if you don't have to."

I consider this. Usually I don't like charity much, it makes me feel like a desperately poor person, when I'm not poor, just short on cash. But this boy seems really genuine, and I like his style, so maybe the offer of old clothes is a good one to accept.

"Sure, I'd love that," I say. "I'm Y/n." I stand, holding out my hand to shake.

He smiles, and my day gets just a little brighter. "It's lovely to meet you, Y/n. Now c'mon. I'll drive you to my place."

I follow him to the carpark, and he opens the shotgun door of a white van, marked with "Löded Diper" on the side.

"Should I be worried about getting into a white van belonging to a total stranger?" I ask teasingly.

The boy laughs. "Nah, you're good. The only people I'm kidnapping with this van are my little dork brother and his friend."

I laugh, climb into the van, and let him shut the door. When he slides into the drivers seat, I look over at him.

"You know, I still don't know your name."

He looks at me with a mischievous glint in his eye. "Would you believe me if I told you my name was Sir Lancelot Broccoli Vladimir the First?"

I pretend to consider it. "Hmmm, no, not really."

I look at him, and for a whole second we hold the serious act. Then we explode to a fit of laughter.

"No, but really," I manage, striving for composure. "What is your name?"

"Rodrick," he says. "Rodrick Heffley."

"Well it's lovely to meet you, Rodrick Heffley."

He grins. "Okay, Y/n Whatever-Your-Last-Name-Is, ready for a dangerous drive back to my place?"

I raise an eyebrow. "Why not?"

In hindsight, I would've preferred walking there, but Rodrick, and his eyes and his smile and his laugh, they made the almost terrifying experience of his driving kinda worth it.

His house was simple and white, the yard pretty but plain. It looked like a totally normal home.

Rodrick opens the front door for me, holding it open as he smiles down at me. I return it as I duck under his arm, and step into the hallway.

A women steps into the hall, a small boy in her arms. She's pretty, with glasses and shiny brown hair. she sees me and smiles in pleasant surprise.

"Oh, hello there." She steps over and hold her hand out. "I'm Susan. It's lovely to meet you."

As I shake her hand, she glances at Rodrick, a thousand questions in her eyes.

"She's a friend," Rodrick says. "Don't make it weird, Mum."

She smiles. "Oh no no, I won't, honey, I promise."

"Come on, Y/n," Rodrick says, and grabs my hand, steering me away from his mother.

We climb the stairs, passing an adorable dog (who wanted pats that I'd gladly given) and a younger brother, who doesn't give us a second glance.

Upstairs, we enter Rodrick's room. It's surprisingly tidy for a teenage boy's. He has a drum kit, a lot of rock band posters and magazines, and a few piles of clothes and school supplies.

"You play?" I ask, gesturing at the drums.

Rodrick smiles shyly, his gaze sliding to meet mine. "Uh, yeah. I'm in a band."

I raise an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? That's sick, man. I wish I could play the drums. But I've never had the money to get my own kit or anything."

"I could... teach you if you'd like?"

At his suggestion, I hesitate. "I couldn't pay you..."

Rodrick gives me a look. "As if I'd charge you, love."

I flush, and look away.

"Okay..." Rodrick gets all embarrassed, turns in a circle, then digs through his closet for a moment. He pulls out a small tub of neatly folded clothes (I suspect his mother folded them for him), and places it on his bed.

"Here ya are, Y/n/n."

"Y/n/n?" I ask with a small laugh. "That's a new one."

"Is it?" he asks curiously. "So I'm the only one to ever call you that?"

I nod. "Yep, pretty sure."

"Good." He smiles. It's contagious, so I smile right back at him.

"Now," he says, pushing the box towards me. "Take whatever you like."

It's filled with mostly tshirts and hoodies and sweaters, which is perfect, as I have basically no need for new jeans at the moment.

I pull one of the hoodies on, a maroon one with the words "you and i got lost in it" in small, simple writing down one sleeve. It's almost a perfect fit, just a little bit big in all the right place.

"Are all the clothes in this box the same size?" I ask, and Rodrick nods, but he can't tear his eyes away from me.

"What is it?" I laugh.

"N-nothing," he stammers, his cheeks tinting pick and his voice going higher. I bite back an amused smile, and just give him a little meaningful look.

"It's just..." he sighs. "You just look really damn pretty in my clothes."

I instantly get flustered, but can't help my smile. This afternoon might have started pretty awfully, but I could tell it was going to be an amazing night.

[usagikei]

꒰ა  POLYAMORY HEADCANONS with portgas d. ace, monkey d. luffy, sabo. [n.sfw]

CONTAINS... fem!reader, foursomes, mentions of overstimulation, orgasm delay, cunnilingus, and not-so-sexy moments with these 3. A/N... a little something for the asl trio. ♡

♡ Each brother has their own specific quirks in bed: Ace adores overstimulating you, whereas Sabo will always have you begging him to let you come. For once, Luffy acts as a fresh breath of air from the two older brother's antics.

♡ Ace is relentless in bed for the moments he's awake for it. He loves seeing each and every single expression on your face and how it differs depending on how he touches you. He's particularly keen on eating you out, feeling like a king with you moaning and your soft thighs around his head. If you manage to squirt even just once, best believe that Ace will try to get you to squirt every single time from here on.

♡ As for Sabo, he's a different kind of relentless when it comes to sex; he's the type to keep you on the edge for hours straight just to hear you sob and whine, building up to a mind-blowing orgasm. He loves hearing the way you whimper and clench around him when he stills his fingers just as you're about to come. Sometimes, though, he overdoes it and leaves you in a bad mood from being denied an orgasm for so long.

♡ Unlike his two older brothers, Luffy's a lot sweeter regarding these things. He doesn't necessarily want to have sex to release any sexual frustration per se, he just likes doing it with you because he enjoys how much closer it feels like the two of you get! He's very clingy and will always be touching you; silly jokes and giggles will always follow after. You can't really expect him to be serious in bed when he's showing off how far he can pull his rubber dick.

♡ Ace will hog all your time just to mess with Luffy. Planned on sleeping with Luffy tonight? Too bad, Ace'll come sweeping you off your feet to his own quarters. Wanted to go try out a certain restaurant with Luffy? Too bad, Ace is already dragging you to said restaurant completely expecting you to pay the bill.

♡ Sabo is a bit nicer when it comes to sharing you with Luffy. He'll make it clear when he wants alone time with you and when he's fine with sharing you with his brothers, although does get a little bit pouty if you spend too much time without him. However, he does enjoy watching you have sex with Luffy—not in a creepy way, either; it's just that you and Luffy always seem so pure and happy even when doing something so filthy that has him smiling like a dumbass.

♡ Luffy is glued to your side at any moment he can cling to you. He knows that Ace will try and come to steal you from him, which leads to Luffy even following you into the baths just to protect you from his brother's grabby hands. Pretty much a lost puppy constantly trailing after you 24/7. He won't really be mad if you do get stolen away by his brothers though, most likely just a little bit pouty, but he will instantly perk back up by the next hour.

♡ Foursomes with these three fools are going to be the most chaotic, ridiculous sex of your life. There's going to be a lot of arguing, a lot of compromises, and a lot of nakedness going on. They once had a fight and tried to argue over who had the biggest dick, leading to them asking you to choose the winner; much to Sabo and Ace's pride, with hesitance, you declared Luffy the winner. After all, you've seen his dick stretch around his own waist with your own eyes.

♡ Oh, did I mention that this trio will unironically get up from the bed mid-fuck to rock-paper-scissors on who gets to stick their dick in your cunt first? It breaks the sexy mood they've managed to set up for a split second every single time, but you knew what you were getting yourself into when you accepted their love.

♡ When you manage to make it to the actual act, it feels like a hurricane. There are hands, mouths all over you, and at first you can't tell whose is whose, but as the days you spend with them go by, you start noticing that Ace is the one with sharper teeth, Luffy is the one with softer skin, and Sabo's the one with calloused fingertips. The three of them all come together, with you stuck right in the middle.

♡ All three of them are out like a light after sex. Sometimes, Sabo will stay awake to get you wet towels to clean yourself up after, but he usually conks out in a similar fashion to his brothers—which you wouldn't mind if it weren't for the fact they usually fell asleep on top of you and/or clinging onto you, successfully trapping you in a cage of sweaty, naked bodies.

[bokettochild]

Memorial

Hey everyone! Happy Memorial Day! (what's left of it)

As many of you may know, Memorial Day is a day to remember our fallen soldiers and those who served, and, well, I just couldn't resist making a little something for it.

Not all soldiers see this day with pride. Not all heroes and veterans make it to a time they can enjoy the celebrations of their victory, and some never enjoy the celebration.

As the daughter of a soldier, I've seen some things; hiding indoors at the sound/sight of fireworks, not handling loud noise well, being worried easily for those they care about, There's a lot our armed forces suffer, so please be sure to give them your respect, regardless of the day, and support them in any way you can, even if it's just by setting off your fireworks away from where they live so the sounds don't trigger them.

So! Without further ago!

The fic!

  -

  It's cold. 

  Warriors shivers as a breeze whispers past but he doesn't move from where he sits. 

  He can't. 

  Rather, he won't. His soul screams to stay still and though its sound is nearly lost amidst every other scream that floods his ears, he still hears it well enough to know to stay. 

  It's not like they'll let him leave anyway. 

  His brothers hadn't known, when they came across the ruins and open field, that this has been a place of battle. Twilight, suggesting that they make camp here, couldn't feel the latent energy of not yet departed souls. None of them could. 

  He’d tested, asked in his own roundabout way to try and divulge the truth from the others; could they see spirits? Not just gibdoes and wraiths and the like; all heroes could see those to an extent, it came with the job. Spirits though? The souls of the dead but not departed? It would seem he and he alone had been cursed with such sight. 

  And what a curse. Even now it howls in his ears. Cool, cold, freezing fingers brush and snatch at him, unable to truly grasp, too dead and too weak to cause physical pain, but they hardly need to do so when their presence is enough to make his soul howl in agony. 

  They don't know.  

  His brothers sleep on. Sky and Hyrule and Four are all on one side of camp not yet close enough to be considered cuddling but certainly nearing that point should one or another shift in their sleep, and they all will. Wind usually sleeps at the captain's back but tonight has dozed off in the veteran's shoulder and now lies close to the elder hero, who, while not asleep, doesn't seem to be quite awake either. As for their wolf trio, Twilight and Wild are curled up in each other as usual, and Time… 

  Time is watching him. 

  Reasonably speaking, he should be watching in disapproval. It's been hours and the captain hasn't lain down to go to sleep at all. His watch shift ended hours ago, Time taking over just when he was certain that he'd actually go mad from sitting alone in what others would perceive as silence but which for the captain was as good as his own personal hell. 

  His soldiers. His men. His own dear friends and brothers in arms. Dead. 

  Their souls gnash at his own, and while his body may not be touched by hands untouchable, his soul is, and while no damage can be done in their weak state, that does nothing for the screaming and the pain of his heart as he watches them. And he can't not watch them. 

  He owes it to them, in a way. His blade had taken their lives, his own two hands snapped the chords of their fate and extinguished their flames to leave them nothing but husks of what they once were, still too full of fury to pass on past the veil and find solace in whatever might lay in the beyond. He is the cause of their suffering, and despite how others may claim that it was Ganon, or Cia, or some other power that drive fate to be how it was and took the choice- took so many choices from so many people- it does not change the fact that it was he, and he alone, who ended so many of the lives that still linger here. 

  So, he owes it to them to let them air their hate, just as he owes it to their families to let them simmer in theirs. He took. He killed, and be it for the right cause or not, death is death and a killing is a killing, and soldier though he may be, he hates to stare at his hands and see the blood of these innocent victims dripping from his fingers. 

  That, and the screaming, keeps him from sleep and under Time's stare, but the judgment of the elder is nothing to be compared with the fury and agony of restless souls, even with the uncanny magic that wafts off the man. 

  Death is stronger tonight. 

  The captain shifts in his seat. He's chosen the remains of an old wall as his perch, to watch from up high and not in the midst of the spirits is the one kindness he grants himself. The wind bites at him, tearing at his hair and scarf as it tries to pierce the wool of his clothes and iron of his mail. It's late, they're safe here and he has no reason to still be dressed for war, but it feels wrong to be anything but as he watches his soldiers wander below. 

  One surges up to him, weightless now in death, eyes empty and cold, just as they had been as his blade had been pulled a third time from their chest and they had finally fallen. Hands grasp and screams, wordless and sharp, rip from non-existent lungs. Such vestments of humanity were stripped by buzzards, and all that lies in remains is the skeleton that lies against the wall at his feet. 

  He tries not to look at it.  

  The man's name was once Conlee, he was a blacksmith's son with a sweetheart back in Ordon Town and plans to start a farm there, living the quiet life. He was one of the first to become corrupted and thus be killed. His infant son is only five months old. 

The captain winces, not because of the screams or the chill of a spirit's touch, but at the thought of Magda, Conlee's sweetheart, standing there with her newborn and receiving the news. He'd delivered word to them himself and it killed part of him. Artemis forbade him from doing it again after that, but that didn't stop him from seeing the fallout when others took the task. 

  Conlee eventually ceases his assault, returning to wandering the field beside his fellow slain soldiers, and Warriors' eyes follow them. That it, they do until a thunderous explosion has him and every spirit jumping to attention. His hand flies to his blade in an instant but when he turns to face the noise, all that can be seen are shimmering blue and crimson sparks dancing across the sky. 

  Another such explosion of color lasts across the sky, ripping at ears and making those sleeping stir, even as the captain shudders. 

  Time watches the fireworks placidly, gaze straying to Warriors now and again. 

  The captain doesn't notice. His eyes are fixed on dancing sparks, even as he forces himself back down to seated. 

  They're celebrating, over in Castle Town. Why, he can't fathom. Today was a day of victory, a year ago in the war, but not one worth anything. Too many men dead. Too many lives lost. Too much needless death on both sides had made their victory a pyrrhic one. He can't imagine celebrating this or any other battle save those which ended in Cia and Hanon's defeat. Certainly nothing warrants the sparks and screams in the air as flame and smoke lick across the sky from the city ahead.  

  He doesn't like them. 

  They're loud. The sound… it startles and shakes him like not even the screams of the dead do. It's like canon fire all over again. Lead raining down from the battlements, crushing foe beneath as allies and friends steered clear lest they be struck. The walls are crumbling and the troops roar beneath, too locked battle and too deafened by the blasts they hear the shifting of stones. The weight of the cannons is pushing, the wall is giving way, the enemy is darting close and Mask is atop the wall, shouting, screaming, voice unheard but face white and afraid and- the stones give way and the child stumbles and….! 

  Warmth, soft and sweet, floods over him. 

  The captain blinks his eyes and looks over the long-ruined battlefield. The moldering stone walls and barely standing remains of the keep are still there. The cannons are long buried under the rubble. Mask- no, Time sits by the arch of the gate, staring out at the burst of stars rippling up from where Castle Town lies. 

  All is well, all is at peace, and when he turns back, he finds Legend perched on the wall beside him, tired eyes fixed on him and waiting, soft golden magic seeping from him to brush against the captain's own, soothing and sweet like warm cider "Vet?" He's a bit startled to see the other up, and his gaze immediately darts down to where Wind has been left. 

  The sailor now has his face pressed between Twilight's shoulders, snoring softly and soundly. 

When he turns back, violet eyes are studying him quietly, golden light brushing gently over in a near unseeable whisp where unfelt hands had grasped and struck. He's being examined. Legend's not nearly as good at it as Hyrule, but he's a quick learner and the younger man seems to have a handle on this most simple of medical magics. 

  Warriors lets it be, sitting still and letting his eyes wander back to the roaming spirits below. When warmth brushes against his side, silent but pointed, he breathes. 

  Legend doesn't say anything. 

  Warriors isn't sure he can either in this moment. 

Instead, he shifts, lifting an arm and end of his scarf and curling both around the smaller form of his brother as Legend settles beside him. 

  Somehow the action feels different than when Wind would do it. More akin to Mask actually. The vet is similar in many ways, and paramount in those is his refusal to seek out contact save in order to offer comfort to others. Warriors takes it though. The warmth and weight against his side on the old and ruined wall helps to ground him, and when the next burst goes up, he's able to breathe the slightest bit easier. By habit borne of Mask and Wind, his hand lifts to mused strawberry hair, running through slowly so that his breaths match every lift and fall of his hand. 

  The vet shifts, but he doesn't complain, so the battle-worn hands remain as gnarled and boney ones pull the scarf a bit closer. 

  Legend doesn't say anything to him, doesn't even glance up at him. For all intents and purposes, the veteran has settled here to provide comfort of the physical sort, but even so, the steady presence and newfound ability to breathe again have the words tumbling out. 

  "I don't like fireworks." 

   There is silence beside him, the only sign of life the slight tilt inward of the vet's head, closer against his chest. 

"They sound like canons." He whispers, cautious of those sleeping below and behind them. "It… I don't like it." 

  Silence greets his words.  

  Not cold silence, no, there is something heavy about it. Heavy and still, but while not quite expectant, it feels open. It's an odd thing to try and describe, even to himself, but there is no other way. It's an openness he feels the distinctive need to fill, so his words and thoughts tumble out, tired, worn and pained like he rarely allows himself be. 

  "It's bad enough camping here, but the canons- fireworks… The battle here ended horribly, the walls collapsed and all the canons crushed those below. Most of them were our men." 

  Men who'd not died quickly.  

  Men whose bodies were half buried, the other half left writhing and most times screaming for help. 

  It makes him shiver again, but the body beside his own remains still. A part of him knows Legend's listening, but the other half, still shattered and shaken, has his hand dropping to the crook of the other man's neck all the same, seeking a pulse and holding when he finds it.  

  Legend doesn't shake him off, only shifts some to accommodate. 

  Warriors takes that as permission to leave his hand where it lies. 

  He breathes once more, tuning his own to the easy puffs from the other man. " I don't like this place." 

  Another shift, this time so that star-flecked eyes can fix on him. 

  He winces. Doesn't tremble, but it's a near thing as he looks into the sea of faces only he can see. "They all died," it's more whisper than word, his eyes tracking the countless eyes fixed on himself and now Legend. 

  Boney fingers gently settle over top his own. They're warm. 

  "Nothing was in our favor. Our own men were turned against us. The cannons we mounted on the walls were too heavy for the stone to support while firing them so often." He looks to the ground beneath where the most of the scattered armor and bone peek through fallen masonry. "The walls fell. The enemy took over the fort and half our men were either killed or corrupted." A shuddered breath. "I don't know how many lives I took that day." But he'd been drenched in blood, hair and hands stained for days after. 

  Legend blinks. Gaze like endless twilight skies, unreadable but so much easier to watch than the ones filled with scorn around them. Still, easier though it may be, there's something impossible about looking a brother in the eyes as he speaks his next. "I considered them brothers." 

  His throat is tight. 

  "I killed them." 

  Something heavy settles on his knee, startling him, and when the captain looks it's to see Time standing against the wall. The man leans back against the stone, arms settled over the top by where they sit, but one heavy hand resting on Warriors' leg; a silent comfort. 

  The single blue eye is pained as it turns to him. Expression familiar as the one he likely wears himself. 

  Time was there too. Time had almost died with them. 

  Only Midna's quick thinking had been his saving, a portal opening breath him in midair before he could be buried with the others in the rubble. He'd emerged again in a twin pool of shadow instants later, thoroughly startled and considerably less Hylian, but they'd never worried much on it in the moment. What mattered was that he had been safe, and if Warriors’ first action once the battle was over was to fall to his knees and pull both younger heroes in close, breathing in the scent of life and sweaty little brothers and trying to assure himself that they, at least, had made it out alive. 

  Midna never even teased him for it. She’d stood watch and settled her hand on his shoulders much like how Legend and Time do now, and sat in silence while he’d mustered his courage to raise his head again and face the destruction he’d helped to cause. 

  “We started together,” the words rasp, gaze trailing across the field. Five or six spirits watch him, some with hooded eyes and others with visible pain. “We joined the army hoping for better. We promised to look out for each other, watch each other’s backs.”  

  The hands on his tighten their hold minutely; not constricting, but ever present and holding tight enough it feels as though they think it will ground him back to reality. He hopes- or rather… does he want it to work? 

  “We stuck together through basic. Helped each other with our forms. I think one of my mates even bribed the commanding officer to get us all deployed to the same garrison.” They had. They’d all scraped together funds as a group and the oldest one of them had gone to present the ‘offering’ to their commander. “I saw them as brothers,” he repeats again,” we roamed the streets together as tykes, the roads as young men, and when the war came, we thought we’d stay together then too.” 

  He has to muster a breath as one of them turns their back. 

  Legend’s thumb grazed the back of his hand gently, moving back in forth in a subtle but assuring motion. 

  “And then I became the hero.” 

  The cursed hero. The title’s done nothing but bring trouble to himself and Hyrule both since he’d discovered the truth, and there’s been many a day he’d wished that he’d just stayed home and spent the rest of his life as a tailor like his father. No Triforce would have shown itself then. No hero would have been forged and no war would have been started for his soul. Life would be so much better, on so many counts, if he never had become a soldier. 

  “I wish I’d stayed home. I wish- gods, there’s so many things I wish. I wish I hadn’t joined. I wish I hadn’t left my post that first day we were attacked. I wish I’d had the good sense to follow the advice of my men and watch my damned ego! If I’d just kept myself in check, been content!” Both hands lift to drag through too-long hair. 

  He needs to cut it. It’s not uniform. 

  He hates the thought nearly as much as he hates the uniform that goes with it. 

  “My brothers fought for honor,” he whispers to the sky, “I was just fighting for the money.” 

  “A man fights for what he doesn’t have.” 

  Legend’s words make him start. First at the sound, the other two have been silent thus far and he’d expected- he’s not sure what he expected. Legend smirking up at him, violet skies flashing softly with something playful, makes him ease, drop his hands again and take the one that offers itself to him. If his first action is to seek the pulse point, neither Time nor Legend says anything of it. 

  “Still, if I’d stayed home. We’d never be here.” Another scream, unheard by the others, rips through the air. “I’d never have killed them.” 

  “Wars-” 

  “I know I had to.” it’s out of his mouth in a moment. “I know there wasn’t a choice. They were corrupted, they were traitors. There wasn’t anything else I could do, and by doing what I did I brought us one fraction of a step closer to defeating Ganon. I know what I did had to be done. I know I had to do it, but…” his grip tightens, “that doesn't change the fact that I had to kill; that I killed my own men. A death is a death, no matter who causes it, and no matter what anyone says about the war not being my fault, I was the one who made the decision to end the lives that I did. Regardless of the fact that there were no options, I still am the one who did it.”  

  Heavy hands and boney ones grip a bit tighter, one blue and two violet eyes staring up at him even as his own turn to the field, a sort of bitter emptiness lingering in him at finally speaking the words. 

  He’s heard every assurance, he thinks every excuse has been uttered on his behalf, but while he knows, in a way, that the deaths weren’t something he could change, the fact that they came by his hands sits uneasy in his mind. 

  So much death. So much caused by himself. So little gained. So much lost. He can’t help but wonder sometimes if it was even worth it in the end. 

  Other times though, he looks at Hyrule, growing again, thriving, he sees his little brothers grown or growing. He sees a glimmer of a future in the champion, a promise that there is something worth fighting for. There’s people, endless souls and homes and lands to protect. There’s still a reason. 

  That doesn’t make what he had to do easier to bear though. 

  What he appreciates though is that neither brother attempts to assure him on that point. In fact, Time’s head nods just the slightest, eyes glinting with pain as they turn to what, to him, is an empty field scattered with bones. Beside him, Legend’s gaze falls, and though he can’t see, he can sense the burden that settles over the other’s soul. 

  They get it. They don’t say as much and make no attempt to share anecdotes about their own sufferings. There are no words spoken at all for a moment, the only motioning being Time’s restless feet shifting and Legend’s hands working over the joints and bone of his own, shifting in a silent study as his mind focused on some other place, thing or occurrence. 

  It’s silent for a moment. 

  Well, very nearly.  

  Shards of light still explode across the heavens and the spirits still come and go below, but there is no more action from them as many linger by their forlorn corpses or others by hastily dug mass graves. He’s not sure if they can see each other or not, but it would seem they can sense his brothers; between Time’s twisted, sickening magical aura and Legend’s holy one, nothing strays close anymore, and he’s left in some sick semblance of peace as he’s forced to watch them regardless, even with his brother’s close by. 

  “Tell us about them?” Legend’s voice is softer than most days. It’s neither sleep nor pain, but something almost dreamy in his tone, something distant. 

  Right now, he hasn’t the energy to wonder why, but he notes to himself to ask later, when he has enough in him to care. For now, he’ll be selfish. 

  “Why?” 

  “Because they deserve to be remembered,” endless violet latch onto his face, “they shouldn’t go forgotten.” 

  “What did they like to do?” Time chimes in, “what did you do in your free time? What were their families like?”   

And it hurts to even think about it. An ache settles deep within at the mere thought, but still, when his eyes fall on Gassun’s face amidst the forest of the fallen, he can’t help what slips from his lips. “My best friend was our next-door neighbor. He used to tease me about becoming my sister’s sweetheart. They wanted a fall wedding.” 

[crazylittlejester]

DAILY BRAINROT

Disclaimer: If nothing I say makes sense, it's probably because I'm so stressed I almost set the microwave on fire.

I'm glad to see that the Warriors knits headcanon is alive and well. In fact, it is thriving. This brings me immense joy because I've been losing my mind over it for the past several months, and it looks like it's here to stay. :) The best part is when someone writes a scene where Legend is embroidering/sewing and Warriors is knitting, and they're BONDING OVER THEIR CRAFTS.

In other news, I am seriously considering making glowing Warriors' power and having it be kind of like those glow-in-the-dark stickers people put on the ceilings of their kids' bedrooms. Hear me out. He can be powered by the sun, like a solar panel, and store the extra energy to do Cool Superhero Stuff with. The unfortunate side effect being that he tends to burn off excess energy by glowing in the dark. This means he has been explicitly banned from working night shifts because his cover would be blown.

It also means that he's the perfect nightlight for kids with nightmares.

I'm really looking forward to writing up more of the first meeting stories now that I've gotten the one about Legend & Wild posted, but since I'm making myself wait until I get the next chapter of Hyrule's fic up I'm just going to ramble at you about it instead.

I haven't decided which one to do next, but I have thought about the one for the trio (I also need a better name to refer to them). Anyway, I'm thinking that Twilight and Warriors actually grew up knowing each other, but sort of lost touch for a little while. Twilight was busy with the Twili stuff and getting used to his new abilities, while Warriors was in the middle of the mess with Cia. Sometime after that, they get back in touch, and they've both decided that they want to move out. Twilight wants to leave Ordon because he feels uncomfortable there now, and Warriors wants to move to a different district in Castletown to avoid anything related to Cia. Right around the same time, Sky is looking for roommates because he doesn't want to go to college in Skyloft or something. Ghirahim probably has something to do with it because I kind of doubt that he'd be very chill about Sky killing his master... Regardless, they get introduced to each other and the rest is history.

Slightly related to that, Sky is going to be an interesting combination of ideas here and is quickly becoming a favorite of mine for this project. He's kind of similar to Time because he's an incredibly powerful individual that dropped off the radar. He showed up, kicked villain butt, and then vanished (curtesy of Sun). I'm poking him because I have a lot of ideas about that. Maybe he doesn't like thinking about it? Maybe he doesn't remember what he did? Maybe it wasn't actually him and he was just possessed or something? Could he maybe be the source material for the experiment that made Wild? Is he just like this or is it trauma or his power(s) or did someone else do this to him?

Gnawing on all these questions as if I don't have things due tonight.

IM SO SORRY DUDE. they call me the kitchen appliance killer, i think the only thing safe from me is the stove and the blender- but i’m also afraid of fire so like, i don’t go near the stove anyway lmao 🕺 but fr I really hope you feel less stressed :(

YES YES YES. I love the wars knits headcanon it’s everything to me, i’ve been tryin to find a good place to throw it in a fic. AND WARS AND LEGEND BONDING OVER CRAFTS IS JUST PEAK

DO IT. DO IT, TAKE MY FUCKING MONEY. /j SOLAR POWERED NIGHT LIGHT GLOWSTICK WARS IS EVERYTHING TO ME

ooooooh okay okay, i like it >:)

istg the ‘hero/vigilante’ type au turning sky into peoples favorites is a real thing, it happened to me writing FH9. He’s my FAVORITE character in that ENTIRE au 😭 im so excited to see what you do with him in this 👁️👁️

remember to take care of yourself 🫶 get some water and snacks if you need em

[bellysoupset]

Hello!! Could I request a touch-starved Leo with Jonas where maybe Jonas doesn’t believe Leo when he says he says he doesn’t feel good. He makes a mean remark or something but Leo has an upset bloated belly (no emeto, but gassy) and just wants comfort from Jonas (maybe he feels like he doesn’t deserve it - bc of trauma or smth) And Jonas feels guilty? Ending in lots of cuddles and tummy rubs?! Thank you so much ❤️

"It won't kill you, stop whining," Jonah rolled his eyes as he walked past Leo, fixing his tie on the mirror. His boyfriend had been sitting at the edge of the bed for the past 20 minutes, only half dressed. He had his social shirt all buttoned up, but he still wasn't wearing anything but boxers and his own tie hung limply around his neck. Jonah glared at the reflection, "Leo."

"Jon, you don't need me there, c'mon-"

"I want you there," Jonah frowned, "Leo, please?"

The blonde met him with a steely glare, blue eyes very striking against his face and for a second Jonah's will wavered. Leo really didn't seem to be just playing it up to miss the event... But then his boyfriend nodded, having lost the battle of egos and turned around to grab his trousers carefully separated and ironed already.

Jonah gulped down the sudden bad taste in his mouth and shook his head. He couldn't let Leo have his way, if it was up to him they'd never socialize ever.

It was the opening night of an art gallery and Jonah really loved the art scene, much more than he enjoyed chips and beers with the guys. Obviously he didn't say that last part out loud, but it was an open secret.

Leo was tagging along like a sullen shadow as they entered the modern building. The lights had been dimmed in the main hall, then the whole place had been separated in sections, the blue area, the pink one and so forth.

"This is gorgeous," Jonah all but beamed, reaching behind him without looking, in order to take Leo's hand, but he found nothing but air. He frowned, glancing over his shoulder and his happiness considerably diminished. Leo had his arms crossed to his chest, a painful frown on.

A pang of annoyance hit him and Jon breathed out forcefully, "really? At least try to enjoy it."

Leo glared at him, unimpressed, "I'm here, am I not?"

"You're acting like a toddler," Jonah hissed back, before a familiar figure walked behind his boyfriend and he pushed the argument aside, opening a smile and calling out, "Wendy, hey!"

Wendy was clad in a silver-blue dress, arm in arm with a friend and she waved and beamed as Jonah circled Leo and went to hug her.

Leo glared in her direction, somehow she was always there when he wanted her there the least, he thought sourly, watching Jon pull her in a hug and then shake her friend's hand enthusiastically.

He wasn't just being annoying for no reason, Leo scowled, he had tried multiple times to tell Jon he'd much rather be at home. Not only these events made him uncomfortable, but while he could normally suck it up, tonight his belly really didn't feel well and it was hard to concentrate on being the perfect boyfriend.

He moved away from the trio, not bothering to greet Wendy. It was no secret between the two of them that Leo didn't like her and he wouldn't be all smiles just because Jon wanted him to.

Instead he walked to the other side of the gallery, to the green section and leaned on a pillar, sourly doom scrolling his instagram account and trying not to think of the burning jealousy in his gut and the crampy sensation that was spreading all over.

His trousers were digging in him, but he couldn't possibly loosen them or do anything about it. He scrolled past a picture. One of his teachers whom he followed was posting educative stuff about Law. He pushed the slides, liked it and scrolled past it without reading a word. Next post was Lucas', it was a video of him leaning against his apartment's bathroom door, which was closed and the noise of Bella singing faintly over the shower could be heard through it. He had put a bunch of fire emojis all over it. They were sickening adorable.

Leo rubbed at his chest, dislodging a small, breathy burp and he let it out slowly, glancing up. Jonah was nowhere to be found. Great.

He had no idea who were the next two people on his feed and then he ended up getting lost in his recommended videos -

"Champagne, sir?"

Leo's startled at the question, nearly dropping his phone. His chest rumbled with a burp, he swallowed it back down and it hurt.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Champagne, sir?" the waiter repeated and Leo felt an urge to laugh hysterically. He couldn't count in one hand the amount of times he had been in the other side of this interaction.

"Uh - Yeah, yeah, thanks," he said awkwardly, taking the champagne flute and starting to sip on it. The bubbles went up to his nose. Sat heavily in his chest, refusing to go down.

He swallowed a burp back down again, feeling cold sweat start to collect on his brow. His stomach hurt. Whatever he had had for lunch, it was truly upsetting it and he was terrified that nausea was soon to follow the whiny gurgles that were making their way around his belly.

"Hi," Wendy's voice interrupted his musings and Leo glared at her as she came to stand elbow to elbow with him, looking ahead as if she was admiring the photography framed before them, "goodnight to you too."

"Uhm," Leo rolled his eyes, took another sip of the champagne, which he immediately regretted, "what do you want, Wendy?"

She raised a perfecty manicured eyebrow, "Geez, calm down, Leo. I just wanted to make small talk."

"We don't have to small talk," he scoffed, then couldn't help but grab at his stomach as a painful gurgle ran through it, queasiness following suit.

She was studying him still, hazel eyes glued to his face, "...right" Wendy said skeptically, "so what are you doing here? I thought you were Jon's date?"

"I am," Leo glared at her, running a shaky hand through his hair and forcing the saliva pooling in his mouth backdown by taking yet another regretful champagne sip, "of course I am, why are you asking?"

"You're not with him," she shrugged, "well, you don't have to be tied by the hip, kinda antiquated on my part to say so," the jab was clear, "some couples are a little too clingy if you ask me."

"I didn't," Leo scoffed, "Wendy, did you want something or did you go out of your way to pe-" he cut himself off when a wet burp pushed past his lips, turning frothy and disgusting at the end. Tasting like bitter coffee and champagne. Oh yeah, he hadn't had lunch, Leo remembered. He had been stuck at the library all day, living off coffee.

He rushed a hand up to cover his mouth and kept it clasped there for a couple seconds as he swallowed down the nausea, eyes squeezed shut. When he opened his eyes, Wendy was still staring at him, unfazed.

She squinted at him, "you were saying?"

"Please," Leo rubbed a hand over his face, tired and noticing how clammy he was, "leave me alone."

"Alright," she said a little too cheery, raising her hands in mock surrender, "can't say I didn't try to be friendly."

He huffed, "very friendly," and watched as she turned around and walked away from him... And straight to Jon, across the room, who had just been chatting with her friend.

"Shit," Leo grumbled, watching as Wendy grabbed Jon's grey blazer and pulled him aside politely, before prompting starting to rant. Probably going on and on about how rude he was, Leo thought with a renewed sense of nausea, as Jon looked past Wendy's naked shoulders and to the spot where he was standing.

It felt like he had been caught doing something terrible, even if in reality he had just been standing there. He felt an urge to run, from the intense manner Jonah was looking at him. His boyfriend planted a reassuring hand on Wendy's shoulder, then started to walk towards him, an angry frown on.

"Leo."

"I swear she fucking started it," Leo defended himself, feeling even more shitty that he had to defend himself to his own boyfriend, but Jonah only scoffed.

"Leo."

"It's not my fault she seemingly hates me for no good reason. I swear she's half in lo-"

"Leo," Jonah's voice was an octave higher, more harsh, "Wendy said you're sick."

"...What?" he mumbled, confused, stomach pain forgotten, anger too, "what...?"

"She said I'm a dick for dragging you here when you're clearly sick," Jonah moved awkwardly from side to side, looking him up and down, "so are you?"

Leo glanced over his shoulder, to where Wendy was standing across the room, drinking champagne with her friend, pretending to be blissfully unaware, "No, I'm fi-" he started to lie, only for another sick burp to press at his throat. He cupped his mouth and tried to swallow it back in, but it was to no avail. Gross, warm champagne flooded his mouth and he swallowed it down, gagging. Once he opened his eyes again, Jonah looked like he had just assassinated his puppy right in front of him.

"Jon-"

"Bloody hell, Leo," Jonah groaned, crossing the space between them, "I'm so sorry, I should've - Shit, I should've heard you, I'm so sorry-"

He felt ill for a whole different reason now. Vindicated, yes, but also just guilty that he was ruining Jonah's night. His stomach churned even more aggressively and Leo pressed the heel of his head to his forehead, "I'm sorry..."

"Oh shut up," Jonah scoffed, cupping his face, thumbs coming up to smooth his brows, taking him in, "let's go home, alright?"

"I can go home on my own-"

Jonah's whole face fell and if Leo hadn't been looking at him, he wouldn't have caught it. The hurt, fear and disappointment all in one, quickly masked away by careful indifference.

"You don't want me to go?"

"I didn't say that, you idiot," Leo groaned, then decided he was done being polite and leaned in, pressing his face to Jonah's peck and muffling a sick burp against his jacket, "do you want to come?"

He could almost hear Jonah eyerolling. Instead his hand came to rest on Leo's nape, rubbing little circles there as he carefully guided them, never once pulling Leo away even though it made walking very difficult.

It was a nice night, the type that wasn't too warm, but wasn't cold either and Leo only pulled back once they were outside. He rubbed at his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose.

"I'm sorry, Jon... We can come tomorrow to check it out, I promise-"

"Please stop," Jonah sighed, opening the car door for him, "get in."

Leo obeyed without a comment, unsure if Jon was annoyed or not, unsure if he was annoyed or not. He should be, rigth?

Instead he leaned in and pressed his forehead to the dashboard of Jon's fancy sports car, undoing the fly of his social pants and groaning as it brought a tiny spark of relief.

He heard as the driver's door snapped shut, then felt Jon's hand in his hair, voice smooth and calm as he said, "what's wrong, baby?"

"My belly really hurts," Leo groaned, sinking his fingers on his normally flat stomach. It was tender to the touch, too warm, "I feel sick, Jon."

"Gonna hurl sick?" Jon asked wearily, but for once it wasn't as much like he was worried about himself, much more about his boyfriend, "Leo?"

"I don't know," the blonde sighed, "not sure."

"Okay," Jon squeezed his shoulder, "we'll be home in a minute, I promise."

"Alright," Leo nodded, keeping his head down, arms wrapped around his unhappy, bloated belly.

He was thankful that Jonah was true to his word and that his apartment building was just around the corner, because the short ten minutes long drive was enough to heighten his carsickness and the moment the car came to a stop, Leo pushed the door open and turned around, retching towards the concrete ground.

He didn't bring up anything, just some horrible burps that hurt his throat and made his nose burn, and the nausea was still present when he saw from the corner of his eye as Jonah circled the car and crouched down next to him, possible vomit be damned.

"Leo, hey," he rubbed his leg, "let's go inside, you need to lie down."

"I feel sick," he shook his head, trying to communicate he was terrified of puking in Jon's extra fancy elevator, but his boyfriend only sighed and pushed the hair off his eyes, wiping the perspiration away.

"I know, baby, but sitting here won't help... I don't think you're gonna throw up."

"You can't know," Leo groaned, digging in his stomach and bringing up another sick burp, turning his face away just in time to avoid belching on Jonah's face, "I feel really sick, Jon."

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," Jonah sighed, then didn't wait for a response, pulling him to his feet, "lean on me, it'll be just a second."

Leo gulped down at the movement, hugging himself as if his stomach was detached from the rest of him and would somehow fall off if he didn't.

Jonah was terribly quiet during the entire trip up, even when they entered the apartment and Leo headed for the bathroom, instead of the bed.

He allowed him a minute of privacy, taking his sweet time in the bedroom and Leo crouched down in front of the toilet, staring at the swirling water and trying to force up whatever was making his belly so sick. He coughed and spluttered, burping again, but despite his burps ending wet and horrible, no vomit came up.

"Baby," Jonah planted a hand on his shoulder, holding his bicep, "I don't think you'll be sick, come to bed."

"I don't wanna puke in your bed," Leo all but whined, dignity quickly starting to fade the sicker he felt, "I already ruined your night-"

"I ruined your night," Jonah corrected him sharply, "don't you dare twist this around. We could've spent it in and I bet you wouldn't be feeling half as wretched," he ushered Leo up and back into the bedroom, "stop caring about the bed, it's not important."

"It is-"

"Leo, for fuck's sake!" Jonah snapped at him, only to wince at his own tone, breathing in, "the bed isn't important, alright? Can you please lie down so I can help?"

Leo sighed, obeying but not without throwing Jon a dirty look, "just because you said please."

Jonah's frustrated, angry frown melted into an amused smile and he moved closer. He was no longer in his tux, had already changed into silk pijama pants and a flimsy tanktop. His hands went for Leo's shirt first, undoing the buttons, since the tie had already been undone in the elevator ride up.

"Oh... Leo..." Jonah said quietly, unhappily as he got a decent look of his boyfriend's belly. Just like Leo imagined, it was bloated, very bloated, gurgling non-stop and slightly blushy too, pushing against the elastic band of his boxers, "that can't feel good."

"It doesn't," Leo grunted, digging his fingers on his sides and forcing up another burp, "feels tight as fuck."

Jonah glanced up, pulling on his pants, "do you want me to rub it?" it was a genuine question and Leo blushed, cursing the way his whole face turned red.

"Sure...?"

"Okay, lie down," Jon nodded, finishing undressing him and then crawling on the bed next to him and rolling onto his side, planting a large hand on top of Leo's bloated belly. The light weight pushed up another burp and the blonde froze, swallowing in.

"Can you get me the bin?"

"You're not gonna be sick," Jonah scoffed, but instead of arguing he rolled away and grabbed the paper wastebasket he left across the room, handing it to him. Leo stared at the two receipts on the bottom, burping towards it, before moving on the bed so he was closer to Jon and there was space to keep the bin right under his left arm, curled near him.

Jonah planted a kiss on his naked bicep, fingers brushing up and down his taunt stomach, the muscles tight against his skin. He drummed his fingers on the side and sighed, "you're so bloated..."

"Uhm," Leo answered eloquently, closing his eyes to avoid looking at him. He was still blushing, "sor-"

"You've got to stop apologizing," Jonah scoffed, pressing under his navel, rubbing his thumb around and popping a pocket of air. A sick, loud and long burp exploded out of Leo's mouth and the man sat up further in bed, reflux burning his throat.

"That hurt..."

"Did it help with the queasiness though?" Jon asked, staring at his domed belly as if it was a puzzle piece.

Leo shrugged, "not sure..."

Only to feel Jonah's fingers pressing in, never releasing the pressure as they dragged from the sides of his belly towards the navel. A gurgle came up, so loud that Jon heard it and Leo blushed even more.

"What did you eat to upset your stomach so badly?" Jon frowned, thumping lightly on the sides and causing a string of small, wet belches to roll out of his boyfriend. Leo rested his hand over Jonah's, gagging.

"Slow, babe, be gentle..."

"Sorry," it was Jonah's turn to apologize as he resumed to a more delicate belly rub, "so?"

"Nothing," Leo thumped on his chest, trying to unstuck a big burp he could feel was there, "I only had coffee since breakfast."

It was the wrong thing to say, Jonah's hands stopped moving, the steel flooding his hazel eyes and making them much more green than brown, "you're joking."

"Uh-"

"Leo!" Jonah cried out, sitting straight up on the bed, "it's been hours - It's no wonder you're sick!"

"I'm not sick," Leo winced, leaning forward to hang his head between his knees and squeezing his belly, "just gassy and queasy-"

"...Oh fucking hate to break it to you but that classifi-"

Leo's chest jostled with an aborted heave and he grabbed the bin with trembling hands, burying his face in it and gagging once, twice - Then a horrible belch echoed in the plastic bucket.

He pulled back after a second, looking pastier than before, "feels... Feels better now."

Jonah let out a sigh, "you're unbelievable..." he pulled Leo back down, snuggling next to him and once again planting a hand on his gurgling stomach, taking care to be gentler this time, "...we're having breakfast together tomorrow," he leaned in, planting a kiss on Leo's temple, "and lunch and dinner."

"Aww he cares," Leo smiled, cheeks all flushed pink and Jonah rolled his eyes, squeezing his tummy a little harder and causing him to burp again.

"Shut up."

[abhainnwhump]

Yo we're doing IMYM prompts?? I have one too!

Prompt: I've always imagine that Ink (maybe a more canon one) would have a lot of difficulty following instruction/orders etc...maybe due to him being very much adhd coded. And that would most likely leave Nightmare extremly angry (maybe he knows about his condiction and insults him 'cause of it?? Would Nightmare just pulls the r-slur to him when Ink does something wrong??)

Apparently we are. It's fun for the whole family.

(Content warnings: Torture, conditioning, dehumanization, ableism and ableist slurs, Nightmare being the worst person ever because that's a trend today)

"No, no. Stand back up, Ink. We're trying this again."

Nightmare looked up at the grandfather clock as Ink groaned. Nightmare's tendrils twitched with frustration. Over an hour of practice and Ink still couldn't figure out how to kneel and roll over on command.

Nightmare made the hand motion for Ink to kneel again. Unlike the first couple times, Ink listened without complaint. Hitting him seemed to help though.

"Good. Now roll over-"

"What's the point in this? Your goal is to train me into a killer doll, right? So why are you teaching me to dog tricks? And I'm tired of this. It feels like hours. Can we at least do something fun? I liked practicing makeup and I thought the battle stuff was fun, can we do that?" Ink huffed, staying on his knees. Nightmare sensed his bored aura, nothing engaged him.

Nightmare's eye twitched, especially as Ink muttered something about getting his head out of his ass. Did he think he couldn't hear? He had been patient all hour, but no more. His tendrils flared up and the sludge covering his body distorted into a grotesque version of himself. HIs voice raised. "Why don't you ever be quiet? I've lost count of all the times I've told you to stop talking. Even the Murder Time Trio were easier to train, they're all smarter than whatever you can dream of."

Nightmare struggled to hold back the anger in his tone. Part of the reason he chose to kidnap Ink in the first place was the knowledge he was so stupid. He would be easy to manipulate and train, it was wrong. "I knew you weren't intelligent, but I didn't believe you were this brainless. You can't follow basic orders, you can't sit still half the time, you can't pay attention when I talk to you, you can't remember anything, and you can't read. You're lucky you're a guardian, your magic is all you're worth."

Ink's face went from shock to hurt, followed by his aura. "I can do all of those things! I just . . . I just struggle a bit! Nightmare, I'm dyslexic so reading's hard, and I have ADHD so being still and obedient is hard. Why can't you figure that out? You know everything across the multiverse-"

Nightmare slapped him across the face to get him to shut up. He grabbed his neck with a tendril and pulled him up. "I don't care about either of those. And I'm sorry, were you implying I'm dense?"

Ink shook his head quickly at the end.

"Good." Nightmare let him go. "We're done for the day, but no food for you tonight nor tomorrow. I won't let you eat until I see you get out of this retarded state. Remember, this is no one's fault but yours. Do you understand me?"

Ink gulped and nodded as Nightmare let him leave. "I- I . . . yeah, I understand. Sorry . . . I'll stop being stupid."

[terrahlee-cup]

The finale of the ‘holy shit she has a lot to say about this one fic’ series before I return to my regularly scheduled random bullshit. Enjoy lol @raphaelesbian

Chapter 11

*sees author’s note, immediate fear*

Him thinking they look like they should be scared of him hurts me. The baby is not doing too hot tonight huh? Let them like youuuu 🥹

OUTFIT TIME YES! “We need to match if we’re going to be a team!” I KNOW I KEEP SAYING THIS BUT THEY’RE ADORABLE. 

“He’d gone past that feeling, to the frayed mess that he was now. He… didn’t want her to feel like this.” Buddy you shouldn’t feel like that either??? This child is so sweet with other people when he needs to be but never himself ow ouch.

These two are so excited to dress him up and I am excited to read it.

“Well, I love being difficult. Ask Leo.” And the self-deprecation is back. Ohp.

Love these two being legitimately concerned for him when they find out his family doesn’t know what he’s been doing. As much as everything they’ve been up to has usually been dangerous it’s really good for Raph to have more friends outside of his family.

Also, the actual effort to make him feel like he’s part of their little group is incredible and amazing and adorable and-

Ohp they found a landmine— wonder if that’ll come up again later?

Damn Raph didn’t even hesitate with that one did he. Call him a crybaby and he will have his revenge lol.

Oh yeah they still don’t get the turtle noise thing yet do they? And now the alcohol is really hitting time for the sad.

He’s… not going to be as quiet as usual while drunk. This could go poorly. He is so getting in trouble it is so obvious he’s intoxicated. Multiple people are up he is DOOMED.

Yep. Yeah his dad figured it out immediately. Oh boy. AND CASEY’S THERE TOO THERE GOES HIS EXCUSE FOR BEING OUT. I am. Uncomfortable. Agh, lying to his family is not good but he DOES need to be able to get out of the lair. He’s in a bad spot as it is without being cooped up all the time.

Ah. There’s the blow-up. Yayyyy. Donnie… hun, why in the actual fuck would you think suggesting that would be a good idea after everything that’s happened?

“None of you get to decide what I do!” Annnnd there’s the main problem. Sure, Raph may have been the ‘rebellious one’ before the brain worm, but people trying to control him (even if trying to protect him) is probably way more uncomfortable for him now. He lost all control of his body for what, 3+ months? Yeah can’t expect him to not need some level of freedom right now. Anxiety-inducing as hell for his family (entirely fair), but trying to keep him in the lair is probably going to do more harm than good.

Chapter 12

Oh hey he’s dissociating almost immediately after waking up that’s good! Yay! :D

“Karai would hate him for it.” Hun I very much doubt that. She definitely knows your family would find out eventually.

“If I’m such a disappointment, why do you even care what I’m doing?” Agh stupid dumb child must hug him.

“No wonder Shredder favored robots and mind control.” Oh boy. This can only go well. The self-deprecation is getting worse too lovely! Bud your family’s just really fucking worried damn it. They don’t hate you 😫

Mikeyyyyyy <3 bean. Lol he snuck Raph his phone, nice.

Of course he got caught immediately trying to sneak out. “for a moment he wanted him to give in.” This kid is NOT OKAY. AT ALL. That is NOT GOOD.

“the desperation woven into a noose that tightened with each word that fought its way through his esophagus.” EYYYYY HE SAID THE THING. (Ow.)

“Y’know, he said the same thing.” OW. FUCK. THAT WAS HARSH BUDDY- LIKE WAKE-UP CALL YES BUT ALSO WAY TOO MUCH.

I think I summarized a lot of my thoughts about these two chapters very well here:

But in all seriousness this is very well written and I am very excited for whenever the next chapter is uploaded. Seemingly we’re in for some more angst based on… certain posts *squints*

Love the chaos trio that is Shinigami, Karai, and Raph. They are menaces and will probably give Splinter gray hairs in the very near future lol. I suppose Raph and Karai have probably given him quite a few already on their own, though. Whoopsie.

[iris-writesx]

we could leave the christmas lights up ‘til january | stede x ed x izzy

read it here or read it on ao3 <3

this was supposed to be the fic that introduced the au, so if you like just pretend this one came first. though, none of the fics in the au necessarily have to be read in order, it will just be a bunch of one shots for this idea!!

but i’ve only written fluff once for this fandom and not even this trio, so it’s overdue. i feel like this fic is a bit meh but it’s definitely more to provide some context for the au. i spent so long working on all of their backstories im actually pretty proud of them akdjwjr

off note and it doesn’t matter but i started the bbc show “uncle” that con o’neill is in (yes i watched it for him) and it’s actually really good and i am SO in love with val <3

but enjoy!! please tell me what you think / what you’d like to see for this au :)

title is from “lover” by taylor swift x

2.2k words — modern day au, domestic fluff, christmas, ed suffers from chronic pain

more from this au; and now i see daylight

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Ed was fucking tired.

It was almost eight o’clock by the time that he finally pulled into the driveway, and all he planned on doing was having a shower, and going to bed. He didn’t even fancy his dinner, which he knew Stede would've kept in the fridge ready for him to heat up.

He didn’t like Fridays. Fridays were the only day that Izzy and Stede got out of work a good couple of hours before Ed did, and he didn’t like being left out on their time together.

But he was home now. He could just… relax.

It didn’t help that his knee had been killing him all day, which, he would admit, was his fault. He had woken up a lot later than he should have, and in his rush to get ready and leave the house he had forgotten to put on his knee brace. Which basically fucked his leg for the whole day, considering his work was all pretty manual.

Ed had been working at the garage for coming up three years, and he loved it. He loved the fact that he was always bustling about doing something, something that kept his mind and hands occupied. It had taken some time to fall into the flow of his work schedule, but he had and he was so thankful for that.

It had been Izzy who had originally gotten him the job. At the time, Izzy had also worked there. It was the first thing that he had helped him with after Ed had gotten out of rehab.

Of course, Izzy didn’t work there anymore; after he’d lost his leg, there was no chance of him filling his post back up there. But Stede had been kind enough to offer him a job in the little café tucked away in his library.

Ed didn’t mind working without either of his partners there. It just meant that seeing them again after work was even more exciting, something he looked forwards to every day he was apart from them.

His eyes screwed, wincing as he turned to get out of the car. He didn’t even bother grabbing his bag, in his urge to just relax. He could sort that shit out in the morning. Ed was just looking forwards to his warm house, his partners, and some peace and quiet.

…which, he realised when he opened the door, he would not be getting just yet.

The first thing he heard was Stede’s rambling. Stede, bless him, did ramble all the time, granted. But it was one of those do as I say rambles, one he usually ended up using on Ed actually.

Though, for once, it wasn’t directed at him, but at Izzy.

“…be half an hour max and we can do the rest tomorrow, or I can just do it all myself tonight. What do you think, the red? Or the green? I do have more of the green but the red goes better with the gold-”

“Jesus Christ.” Izzy sounded as wiped out as Ed felt.

Ed shrugged his coat from his shoulders, and kicked his shoes off on the rug that Stede had put out now that the wetter weather was more common than not. The warmth of the house was like heaven, and he took a moment to just stand there, leant against the wall as Stede carried on his rambling in the living room.

The colder weather was never favourable, his knee always hurt worse in the cold even with the brace. But without it? He doubted he’d be able to be on his feet for too long the next day, but luckily it was Saturday, which they all had off of work.

Thank fuck.

After he realised that he had been stood there for too long, Ed finally made his way from the hallway into the living room and- just stopped in the doorway. Staring.

“What the fuck is all this?”

Pretty much the entire floor space was covered with different Christmas decorations — ornaments, tinsel, fairy lights, the lot. In the middle of it all knelt on the floor, unsurprisingly, was Stede. He had a rope of tinsel in one hand, the other dug into a box which seemed to just contain more of the shit.

Izzy was tucked up in his armchair by the fireplace, and seemed to be pointedly ignoring the mess around him, as he had his phone in his hand and a blanket draped over his lap.

“Ed!” Stede whipped his head around and smiled, like a fucking holiday bomb hadn’t been deployed in their living room. “I didn’t hear you come in, I’m a little preoccupied. What colour do you like best? Izzy isn’t being helpful in the slightest.”

Izzy scoffed. “Told you to toss it all, didn't I?”

“Oh don’t be such a Scrooge, Israel.”

Ed was still stood in the doorway, blinking at the room in front of him. He knew that Stede was fond of traditions and holidays — he had been awfully skilled at decorating the house for Halloween, had actually scared a good few kids with the fuckery he put outside the house. But they hadn’t really talked much about Christmas.

It was the first of December for fuck sake.

“Ed?” Stede put the box down and got to his feet, frowning a little.

“I think he’s in a state of shock.” Was all Izzy supplied, clearly just to jest Stede.

“I just…” Ed waved his hand around, unsure what to say. “Didn’t remember our house being so glittery.”

Stede stepped over the decorations laid out on the floor to greet Ed in the doorway, leant in to plant a kiss on his lips, and for a moment the decorations didn’t matter because he was home and didn’t want to be anywhere else. He mumbled a hello to Stede, kissed him again, and once Stede had returned to his spot on the floor Ed finally walked into the room, crossed over to Izzy’s chair to lean down and greet him with a kiss too.

“I’d go back out if I were you.” Izzy nodded towards the door once Ed had perched himself on the armrest of his chair, and looked up to see Stede glaring playfully.

“I’d take a lot less time doing it all if you helped.”

Izzy pulled the blanket off of his lap, and reached down to fumble with his prosthetic, and after a moment he took it off, careless as he let it drop to the floor. “Can’t help.”

Ed snorted a laugh, though Stede’s expression was very unamused. “You can’t use that to get out of everything.”

“Yes I can.”

Stede was pouting, and looked over at Ed, gesturing to the decorations around him. “You don’t think this is all pointless, do you?”

“Never said it was pointless.” Izzy mumbled from his side.

Ed let his gaze drift over the decorations again. Nowhere that he had ever lived had ever decorated so heavily for Christmas. When he was a kid his mother would put up a tree and some stockings, but that was it. When he and Izzy had been roommates out of school, they’d never really bothered with much either, just a shitty little plastic tree until they went back to their families for the holidays.

But Ed knew that Stede had led a very different life up until the point that they had met. His life had always been lavish, always had the expenses to celebrate holidays however he wanted. He had no doubt that the decorations over their living room floor were nothing compared to where he had lived with his parents, or with Mary before them — it wasn’t like their house had the room for it all — but it was still more than Ed or Izzy had ever had.

Ed didn’t hate Christmas, not at all. He held fond memories of his mother from that time, secret santas with Izzy (that, granted, he’d had to basically force Izzy to take part in), and more recently, the first Christmas that they had all been together for.

But this would be their first Christmas living together.

“It’s not pointless, mate, no,” Ed shook his head, leant down to lift up a little ornament of an angel into his hands. It was delicate and pretty, and nothing like he and Izzy would’ve owned before they had known and loved Stede. “S’just… y’know, we’ve never really seen the point in decorating the place for Christmas.”

“Really?” Stede had his mouth open, shocked, like Ed had just said something scandalous. “Never? But it’s so- it’s so lovely, Ed, Izzy, it’s such a pretty time of year.”

Ed just gave a little shrug. “The decor and shit has never been so important I guess.”

“Right, then,” Stede nodded, and he had that look on his face — his stubborn look, the look he got when he was about to do something that neither Izzy or Ed would be able to stop once it was in motions. “It’s settled. You two are going to have a real Christmas, done properly.”

His determination made Ed smile, and how could he say no to that? That much passion and stubbornness and- fuck, he just loved Stede so much.

Loved both of them so much.

“Sure thing, love,” Ed nodded, smiled. “But how about we stick a pin in it until tomorrow, yeah? ‘Cause I’m fucked, and just really wanna go to bed-” he moved to stand from the arm of Izzy’s armchair, but he moved in a way that sent shooting pain from his knee and throughout his leg, and immediately cut himself off, gritted out a “fuck” as he stood still.

Izzy had long since zoned out of the previous conversation, had been reading some news articles on his phone like the old man he was, but Ed immediately felt his hand on his back. “Edward?”

“What’s wrong, love?” Stede was insisting, too, and Ed looked up and watched as he scrambled to his feet to get to where Ed was stood.

“Nothing, nothing,” Ed waved them off, inhaled deeply to recompose himself. Sometimes he forgot how much his knee actually did hurt, the pain took the breath from his lungs sometimes. “Just forgot to wear my brace today- ow, what the fuck?” He turned to scowl at Izzy when he had smacked his waist.

“Fucking idiot,” Izzy grumbled, though Ed could see the worry in his eyes. “How much did that brace cost? Too much for you to forget to wear it.”

“Is your knee okay?” Stede was fluttering at his side, frowning. “How bad is it? Do you need any help?”

Ed shook his head. “I’m all good, just a little tender. Will be worse off tomorrow.”

If anything that just made Stede’s frown worse. “Why don’t we go and take a shower so we can get in bed, hm?” He offered, lightly held Ed’s arm with his hands. “I was going to shower anyways, Izzy said he wouldn’t kiss me until I got all of this glitter off of me.”

“I won’t,” came Izzy’s voice whilst Ed laughed. “That shit pisses me off, and now it’s all over our carpet.”

“He’s just being a grump, it’s past his bedtime,” Ed grinned, pretended to ignore the swat he got to his hip as he pulled Stede in with his arm around his shoulders, briefly kissed him on the mouth. “We can shower then sleep,” he told Stede, before he looked back at Izzy. “Will you be joining us, darling?”

Izzy certainly had a point about the glitter, because Ed glanced down at his hands and could see that his skin was dotted with red and golden flecks. He looked back at Izzy with a smile, hands outstretched to cup his face.

“Ed- no-” Izzy leaned as far back in his chair as he could, held his hands up to try and shove Ed’s away. “Edward-”

Ed was far too entertained, and leaned far enough in to cup Izzy’s face despite his protests, laughed against his mouth as he kissed him, before he leaned back to see him.

His beard was glittery.

“Oh don’t you look fabulous, darling.” Stede beamed from beside them.

But Izzy was just glaring at Ed, didn’t look the slightest bit entertained.

“Well, now you have to join us,” Ed beamed, still laughing as he leaned away, tapped Izzy’s cheek once more. And though being leaned down had twinged his knee a little more, the pain was sharper in his joint, it was definitely worth it. “Coming, love?”

“Go fuck yourself.” Izzy grumbled, but despite himself he still leaned down to grab his prosthetic, started putting it back on so he could head to the shower with them.

Stede went upstairs to get the water running and between leaning on Izzy to get to the bathroom whilst his knee was playing up, and listening to the sound of Stede’s humming from the bathroom, he couldn’t have felt more at home.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

comments would mean the world <3 requests are open!

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

Some Days You Just Can’t Get Rid of a Bomb (Fill 2)

A Court of Fey and Flowers (Gen)

The situation was such:

A new year, a new Bloom. The feeling was very different this time around, a more relaxed affair (as relaxed as a Bloom can possibly be), a more friendly, warm thing (but again perhaps that was simply the company that they kept these days.)

Wuvvy had done a magnificent job. And the Court of Craft joined the activities seamlessly, their event the second of the Bloom, following the previous evening’s garden promenade and tea, with a uniquely crafty event: a painting party! Colors flew through the air, dousing unsuspecting and delighted guests as they took up knitting and sculpting and sketching, whatever their hearts delighted in. Binx could not be prouder of its success, and could not have done it without their compatriots…

Who all for some reason could not be found.

No Andhera. No Hob. No Rue. No Lord Airavis, no Lady Chirp.

No, no, not quite. Just as she had begun to worry, Lady Chirp darted past, feathers ruffled, and her eyes wide.

“Chirp!” Binx rushed to her side, and Lady Chirp startled.

“Nothing, nothing is going wrong, Binx dear, why I think maybe you’re hiding something actually, no one has possibly gone missing Nope no siree, hahahaha,” her feathers fluffed out uncharacteristically, and just as she finished speaking, went down just as quickly, as her pupils dilated, and her whole countenance turned to that of one on a mission. “Must go, great party, have some punch!” 

Before Binx could get a word in edgewise, Chirp had rushed off, whisper shouting at a distant giggling sound.

Not a minute later, Hob came dashing by, two large, giggling lumps in his coat—much too large for salt goblins. 

“Hob,” Binx said delicately, but firmly, and his ears turned towards them before the rest of him did, followed by two pairs of eyes peeking out from his waistcoat.

“Lady Binx!” Hob’s face scrunched up momentarily as he presumably attempted to recollect all of his goblin trickery and cleverness. But his coat spoke first.

“I like her wings,” said a hushed, high voice, followed by a second, nasally shush.

In all honesty, Binx had to laugh. “Friends of yours?” She smiled, hoping to be let in on the joke.

He looked desperate to include them. But his ears picked up something in the distance, and he swiftly grabbed her shoulders and begged, “You saw nothing, Lady Binx. I shall endeavor to explain all, I simply have to make sense of the situation myself. Please, for the sake of honor and love, do not mention seeing me and the chaps here!”

With that, he sprinted off, his coat—the chaps presumably—laughing all the way. 

“What is happening?” She sighed, turning only to bump into Rue, then Andhera, followed by a deliriously guilty looking Wuvvy, each of them carrying separate articles of small clothing items that seemed to have escaped their persons, and one individual small one delicately hanging from Andhera’s arms—but decidedly not the one missing their clothes. This one was what appeared to be a little huldra, their vines and thistles hanging playfully and desperately onto Andhera’s sleeves, giggling. There seemed to be an awful lot of that going around.

Binx blinked at the trio. The trio blinked back.

“Have you seen a bear cub?” Andhera, bless them, asked, only to be walloped by Wuvvy. 

“A bear cub? At the painting party?”

“There’s actually quite a lot of cubs if you will,” Andhera did his adorable half smile that came when he was most nervous and out of his element. “Running about, this way and that. We haven’t lost them or anything, promise!”

It was Rue’s turn to bump them gently, smiling, much too stiffly, the Rue of yesteryear rather than their dear friend. “Forgive the confusion, my dear, we simply want tonight to go off without a hitch.”

“Which is why you are all running after bear cubs?” Binx raised on brow.

“All?” Rue, of course, had the perception to ask.

“Well, one bear cub, one human… half fae? Peep! And then there’s this charming little creature,” Andhera laughed as the little huldra scooted further up their arm, snuggling into the curve of their neck. Whatever was up, she could not help the warm smile that shone through her then.

“We would hate to keep you from your guests, Lady Binx,” Wuvvy, keenly, grabbed Andhera and began pushing him and the huldra child to the far corner of the room. “In fact, I believe that I have just spotted a dear acquaintance for whom I have longed to introduce our Prince here too, come let’s go!” She snapped, and Andhera simply frowned.

“I still don’t really know why we are keeping this a secret,” they mumbled and before Binx could inquire further, Rue pulled her aside.

“I simply wanted to let you know that we will absolutely not let anything distract from your triumph tonight, my dear,” Rue, always warm and kind and thoughtful, squeezed their arm with gentle claws and a proud gleam in their eye. Binx would have been thrilled, but…

“It’s not quite a triumph if you all aren’t enjoying yourselves! Is everything alright?”

Rue had become more open in the past year, sharing much and letting their feathers down, but practiced manners were hard to let go of. With a slight sigh, Binx could see they were ready to spin some excuse or another, when the both of them were wrapped into a conspiratorial huddle by one Lord Squak Airavis…

And the aforementioned half clothed bear cub, one little Lady Peep Featherfowl, and a dragon? Fairy? Fairy dragon?

“I believe at least some of these ruffians, hooligans, MALCONTENTS,” he said each word louder and with more feeling and swinging of the children with each bellow, and with each lunge the laughter grew—from Squak as well. He could barely contain it. “Are yours, Lady Rue. Well, at least two, yes?”

Binx gasped.

Rue hurried to huddle the bear cub and the fairy dragon from Squak, speaking low and hushed. “Where did you run off to?” Rue whispered…

But Lady Chirp Featherfowl bellowed it.

Peep, still giggling something fierce, was tossed from Uncle to Mother with pure glee. “I was making friends, Mom! With our secret cousins!”

“Secret cousins?” Binx said, and so did Hob and Andhera, who the Huldra child had decided to become the hat of.

“Secret cousins, what, there’s no, secret—! Secrets, pfft,” Andhera tried to wave it all away, but, suddenly, all of their makeshift family was looking at one another.

“I found them yesterday abandoned in the gardens and I couldn’t not take them in!” Hob shouted, as two giggling fey children—a wulpintinger and a hairy little hag girl, burst forth from his waist coat.

“This little one had wandered over into the mortal realm when I went to visit Chirp and Squak while you were doing warlock patron things, Binx, and they were all alone and scared and they love fabric and storms and—!” Andhera pouted with big puppy eyes that the huldra child matched.

“I just thought what a clever little chap, I figured Rue would be a wonderful person to take them under their wing!” Squak began—

“—And I just fell madly in love the moment I saw them,” Rue held the fairy dragon close, and the bear as well—and sure enough, Wuvvy covered that explanation at all.

“And I… well, this little guy was orphaned from the Court of Hoof and Claw and Rue had told me that they were sort of thinking and half a bugbear and an owl bear is just a bear!”

“What?” Hob’s eyes went wide. “Are you saying…?”

Rue laughed, “It seems like you adopted two yourself too!”

“Oh dear,” Andhera finally frowned. “And I adopted this little one too, all just yesterday. Are we all only finding this out from each other now? That’s probably not the smartest way to start the adoption process…”

“I would argue that it is much how any child comes into a family though,” Chirp said, half tired, but full of love and exasperated affection with her little Peep.

“Well you absolutely have to because they’re my cousins and I know how important cousins are!” Peep crossed her arms and put her nose in the air. “So there!”

That had to be it. The straw that broke the camel’s back—Binx bent over and laughed so loud and so long, the whole painting party halted, looking over to the Court of Craft with confusion and curiosity. Sure, propriety—but when had they ever really followed those silly old rules?

“Perfect! Just perfect!” They beckoned the children to their side, kneeling before them all as they shyly approached, eyes wide, and mouth pressed together hopefully. She smiled and held out her hands to each of them. “I’m Binx.”

“Sarastra,” the dragon fairy said, immediately taking and shaking their hand.

“Archimedes,” said the Bear, a little shy, shuffling their feet, but smiling bashfully all the same.

“Prosperpina!” The wulpintinger lept up, and struck a pose. Oh, but she had a lot of dear Uncle Squak in her, blood relative or not.

The little hag girl, covered in a veil of shaggy hair, parted it slightly to smile up at Binx. “I’m Circe.”

The Huldra, hesitant though she was, reached out a tentative branch, and then immediately launched herself into Binx’s arms. “My name is Myrddin!”

With a chuckle, Binx nodded, “Well, welcome to our family, Sarastra, Archimedes, Prosperpina, Circe, and Myrddin. You’re always welcome with the Court of Craft!”

[sercphs-a]

Definitely things that were said || OPEN

@dcviated asked:

✏ for fischl and seth with wy, maybe a few trios

Wylan: Is this about me? Fischl: No. Wylan: Then I've lost interest.

Fischl: We need a plan to beat them. Wylan: Okay, listen up. First, we fill their shoes with wet cat food. Fischl: Wylan: Judge me all you want, I get results.

Wylan: Why are you on fire? Fischl: This is just how my day is going.

Seth: *Locks Wylan in the car.* Act like a child, get treated like a child. Wylan: What? Isn't it illegal to leave a child locked in a car?

Wylan: You are, of course, wondering why it is I have brought you here tonight. Seth: Actually, Wylan, after all these years, I just sort of go with it.

Wylan, after watching Seth get shot by someone: You’re dead. You are very dead. When you are a corpse I will hack away at your flesh and eat you raw. Seth: Wylan, I’m not dead yet. Wylan: Let me have my moment of rage to avenge you. Seth: I’d prefer it if you didn’t let me die.

Wylan: She's the girl of my dreams! Seth: You say every girl is the girl of your dreams. Wylan: I have a lot of dreams.

Fischl, talking to Seth: Well Seth, whenever I’m about to do something, I think ‘would Wylan do that?’ and if they would, I do not do that thing. Seth: … Wylan, from the distance: They’re not wrong though!

Fischl: *speaking Spanish* Wylan: I know, I know. Seth: You speak Spanish? Wylan: No. I just know the phrase, 'this is all your fault' in every language Fischl speaks.

Wylan: Hey, what are you reading? Fischl: This is my magic book where any ink spilled shows a scripture of the future, however it bears a curse making it broken, and as such in order to make any scripture appears, I have to do it myself. Wylan: Impressive! I must have it for myself! Seth: So it’s just a Notebook? Fischl: It’s just a Notebook.

Wylan: In your opinion, what is the height of stupidity? Seth, turning to Fischl: How tall are you?

Fischl: Everyone thinks I'm this soft cute person but I'm not! Wylan: Fischl, you cried for an hour after stepping on a bug yesterday. Fischl: It had feelings! It was probably going home to dinner and I killed it! Seth: ...It was a bug. Fischl: It was a BEETLE, and its wife is definitely worried sick, wondering where it is, and I really don't get why you all think I'm so sentimental because I'm not! Wylan: ... Seth: ... Fischl: Stop looking at me like that!

@dcviated also said

Daekuth if youre so inclined

Malkuth: I need you to come meet me, and I need you to come alone. Daemon: And I need you to be less vague and weird.

Malkuth: I am 39 cheetos tall. Daemon: Why... are you measuring your height in cheetos? Malkuth: Because we're out of doritos.

Daemon: You're violent. Malkuth: Yeah but I'm also short and that's adorable.

Malkuth: I am an expert at identifying birds. Daemon: Okay, what about those ones flying over there? Malkuth: Yeah, they're all birds.

Daemon: I have a new hoodie. Malkuth: Wrong. Malkuth: We have a new hoodie.

[sagechan]

just finished Alien Force s1 tonight and I am so serious about this actually. no one is doing it like Ben Tennyson. he goes from a whiny selfish egocentric brat in the original series, to a mild-mannered compassionate self-sacrificing softboi in Alien Force. in the OS Kevin 11 stole Ben's powers and was like his bitterest sworn enemy. now they're basically best friends who go swimming together and get smoothies and protect each other. Kevin teases Ben to his face but is almost always complimenting him when Ben can't hear. Ben once gave Kevin his grandpa's tux and tied the bowtie for him while looking into Kevin's eyes and calling him dapper. there is never any weird macho competition between him and Kevin over the girl in the main trio because the girl is: Ben's cousin Gwen. Ben doesn't get "protective" of his cousin and even likes to tease Kevin about his very obvious crush on Gwen. he defers to Gwen a lot and never doubts her strength. when they were younger they butted heads but now Ben leans on her and in the very first episode of AF when he's lost and confused he immediately goes to her for advice. his girlfriend Julie is literally so much smarter and more athletic and probably stronger than him (not counting alien powers). she could kick his ass and he knows it. he worries about her safety but doesn't get in her way when she wants to help with dangerous missions. he helps Plumbers' kids his age who don't know their place in a huge and daunting galaxy. he once purposefully lost a fight with one of these guys older than him because he wanted the kid to feel confident in himself. he loves his grandpa Max and feels so much responsibility since Max isn't around. he uses the Omnitrix to heal the DNAliens' broken genetic code instead of fight them. he befriends one of the genocidal High Breed and saves his life and gives him a silly nickname. he canonically got pregnancy cravings before laying some eggs in one of his alien forms, and now he has 14 alien kids living on the moon. he dramatically throws himself off high ledges so many times. he is not the best fighter by any standards but Kevin and Gwen still always rely on him. he gets angry when his friends get hurt and only then does he go all out. Gwen once ripped a hole into the null void and Kevin said in the softest voice, "It's time to come home, Ben." he has the most powerful piece of technology in the universe and uses it to help people. he carries the Noah's Ark of a million different lifeforms and calls each and every one of them "heroes." he dreams of himself as the superhero Ultra-Ben but knows he's just a kid. he is not the big strong dashing hunk you'd expect of an action show's main character, in fact he's the smallest in the main trio, but he has such a huge heart. tbh he's a useless little twink in his human form, but that's when hes most powerful and influential, unbalancing his enemies with his humble and soft character, winning them over with the offer of redemption instead of violence. tumblr girlies, THIS is your healthy portrayal of a soft masculinity. he's the babygirl ever. he's HIM. Ben 10 you will always be famous, to me

not enough tumblr girlies pay attention to Ben 10 when he is THE tumblr girlie dream man

[depressoexpresso-anon]

Hii hope your doing well

I wanted to ask if you could do like aftercare with Alphonse and Seth and listener cause they be needing it 😂

Overthinking

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Alphonse x Reader x Seth (somewhat)

Late into the night after intercourse, reader becomes restless and starts to overthink things. Luckily, a pink-haired punk knows how to bring them back down to earth.

Semi-SFW, implications of the trio doing the deed, fluff, mostly between Al and Reader but Seth is in the background.

Extra notes at the bottom.

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

The air around the room felt a bit warm and sticky. The smell of sex still lingered in your bedroom as the men on either side of you snored peacefully.

You, on the other hand, were nothing but.

You felt restless, which was a bit off for you. Always after, you felt you could pass out due to the overstimulation and the pure exhaustion of having both of your lovers at once.

Tonight wasn't like that though. You felt restless and alert, hell you could go for another round if you wanted to. But you decided against it. You didn't like the idea of waking up your boys for your selfish desires, even when they did so much for you.

You landed on your side staring into Alphonse's sleeping face as Seth cuddled into your back, arms around your waist. You pull your hand from the warmth beneath the covers to stroke Al's sharp face and fluffy hair.

'This feels so perfect. They are so perfect.' You thought as you kept running your fingers against the skin of his face.

You were so lost in thought that you didn't notice Alphonse open his icy blue-grayish eyes.

"What you doin' boo." He said in a groggy voice as he faded away from sleep and into the awake world.

"Oh nothing, just feeling your stubble." You say in a teasing manner.

"Really. I just shaved not too long ago."

You hummed a response back.

"I don't know Al, hair grows by pretty fast."

"Well, not this fast," Al said with slight annoyance.

You knew Al wasn't a real big fan of facial hair on him. He never got into detail as to why but, you never really wanted to open up old scars.

"Well if it helps, I think you'll look hot in a beard, kinda like a sexy pirate or Jared Leto."

He let out a small chuckle and cupped your hand that lay on his cheek.

"Wha'chu thinking about boo?" Al said as he turned his head to kiss your palm.

You stare deeply into his icy blue eyes and let out a tired sigh.

"I don't know Al. I just feel restless at the moment. I have no idea why I feel this way, maybe I'm just overthinking stuff."

Al adjusted himself onto one elbow to get a better look at you while you continue your rant.

"Sometimes I just wonder if this is all a dream, you know. Like I'll just wake up one day and everything will just be gone." You said while your hand found his hair and started to play with it between your fingers.

Alphonse laid back down and scooted closer to your body, he pulled you into his embrace while his eyes were still looking into yours.

"You know that will never happen, right? I and Seth will always be there to support you and love you tenfold. So don't stress about it boo."

Al said while planting a soft kiss on your forehead.

"I love you, Alphonse." You said while snuggling into his chest to help you fall back into sleep.

Al sat his chin on top of your head and let out a small hum of acknowledgment.

"I love you too, Y/N."

_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_

Hello everyone. I've not been posting a lot cause I started a new job and I haven't been really motivated to write, so I took a break for a bit.

Also, my dear mother birthed me from her loins today. So I figured to hurry and get this posted. Thanks for your patience and liking my work.

Thank you for reading

Love you all❤️

[heliads]

Our Love Is...

Based on this request: "Reader and Peter are in their 20’s and live in the same apartment building. He works as a photographer. She’s currently starring in a production of Heathers: The Musical. Reader owns a black and white cat named Sylvester."

masterlist

Peter Parker is squinting at a brightly lit marquee, trying to figure out how he can make a familiar sign look any different than the scores of preexisting photos already out there on the Internet. A friend of his at the Daily Bugle is reviewing one of the latest musicals to take Broadway by storm, so Peter has been conscripted to get a few shots of the building so they have something to pair with their article.

Truth be told, Peter doesn’t know a whole lot about Heathers, but the playbill with its trio of brightly clad killer queens matches the vague murmurs he’s heard about it, so that’s good enough for him. He takes a step back, trying to fit the logo and a shot of the busy surrounding streets into the same frame. A few more, and then he should be good.

Peter’s just about to take his last shot, and then his gaze slips from the viewfinder to rest on the young woman coming out of the theater. She’s really pretty, dressed casually in a blue jacket that seems oddly similar to the red, yellow, and green versions up there on the Heathers marquee, and oh my god, that’s Peter’s neighbor, the one he’s been crushing on for what feels like forever, and she’s headed right towards him now.

Peter would love a chance to regroup his thoughts and possibly come up with some sort of battle plan, but it’s too late now. Y/N L/N is stopping in front of him, and the best he can do right now is try not to pass out.

She arches a brow at him. “I didn’t know you were a photographer.”

He musters up a weak sort of grin. “I didn’t know you were a part of Heathers.”

Y/N smiles proudly, which makes a wave of relief crest over him, new confidence eddying around his heart and hopes. “Yeah, I just started a couple of months ago. I play Veronica Sawyer.”

She gestures happily towards her blue coat, and Peter feverishly racks his brain for any sort of detail he remembers about the musical’s main character. His coworker had prepped him a little bit in case he ran into someone working on the show, but Peter hadn’t counted on his questioner being the one girl who makes his heart do loop-the-loops whenever he sees her.

“Ah, right. Veronica. She’s the main lead, right? The one who was played by Winona Ryder in the movie version?”

Y/N nods, thank everything holy, so he at least got that right. “Yeah, it’s a ton of fun. Are you here with the Daily Bugle? I think I remember them talking about a reporter coming by around now.”

Peter shakes his head ruefully. “Only as a photographer, I’m afraid. I don’t think the actual interview is happening for another couple of days.”

Is he kidding himself, or does Y/N look almost disappointed?

“That’s a shame, I’d love for you to see the show.” Y/N’s face brightens as she speaks. “Actually, you could come tonight, if you want. I’ll get the manager to save you a seat, free of charge.”

Peter stares at her uncomprehendingly. “You’d do that for me?”

She grins again, and he’s lost in her eyes as they shine at him. “Of course I would! You’ve been a fantastic neighbor. I think I’ve lost count of the amount of times I’ve had to ask you to help find my cat.”

Peter laughs at that. One of his first major interactions with Y/N happened in the halls of their somewhat crowded apartment building, trying to track down her black and white feline, Sylvester. Peter usually tries to stay away from new people, too used to surprise attacks by villains masquerading as friends, but for some reason he hadn’t been able to say no to her. Besides, she always invited him into her apartment for a chat or a cup of tea afterwards, and even on the first day Peter was so hooked on her that he would have followed her anywhere.

“Oh, I never minded that. I’ll see you tonight, I guess?”

Y/N smiles at him before disappearing back into the theater. “Can’t wait!”

He can’t wait either. This is basically the same thing as Y/N asking him on a date, right? Kind of, maybe bending a few rules and expectations, but pretty much the same thing. She wants him there, and that’s enough for Peter. He takes a couple more photos, then practically skips home. He’s got a sort-of date. Who couldn’t be happier?

Peter arrives at the theater a touch too early, but he’s so afraid of being late that he couldn’t help himself. He’s not sure if he’s dressed too fancy or not fancy enough, but then again, who’s going to be looking at him? Y/N, in his wildest dreams, but everyone else will be so focused on the show that they won’t notice the half-starved kid trying to fit in with the rest of the upper-crust enjoyers of the arts who are actually supposed to be there.

Still, when the curtain goes up Peter knows for a fact that he doesn’t want to be anywhere else. He hadn’t realized how taxing the role was until he’s watching Y/N belt at the top of her lungs, all while dancing or acting her heart out. Truth be told, Peter doesn’t believe that Y/N needs the first act’s quick-change makeover to be seen as beautiful, and he’s definitely jealous of her black-coated costar for getting to kiss her that many times, but all in all, it’s fantastic.

Plus, after the show is over (which seems way faster than it should be, all things considered), Peter gets to head out back and find her. He ends up talking to Y/N on a semi-rusty fire escape near the halls backstage, the night air crisp against the flush in his cheeks. He never thought he’d get a chance like this, but he wants it, he really does.

The thought occurs to him that he could tell Y/N how he feels about her. They’ve been dancing around it for a while now, he’s sure of it. Peter certainly likes Y/N, and she wouldn’t be looking at him with that soft smile that she reserves for celebrity crushes in movies and successful turn sequences if she didn’t. At last, he’s managed to gather up his confidence. It’s time. Peter can only hope that this won’t end in disaster.

“Y/N, I’ve been meaning to tell you something for a while.”

Y/N glances over at him, brow furrowing slightly as if she can tell that this is of the gravest importance. “Yeah, what’s up?”

Is it just him, or does she seem hopeful, as if she can tell where this is going? Peter has no idea. He doesn’t even know what he doesn’t know anymore. He’s pretty much coasting on adrenaline alone at this point.

“I-”

The sentence doesn’t get the chance to come out. Just as Peter opens his mouth to bare his heart once and for all, screams erupt from an alley about two blocks down. Peter can hear a couple of gunshots acting as percussion in the background. Whatever’s happening, it’s not good, and as Spider-Man, he has a duty to fix it. It’s a shame that this duty is getting in the middle of a conversation he really wants to have.

Peter briefly considers ignoring the active crime to spill his secret to Y/N anyway, but he knows that he can’t afford it. So, he cuts himself off, and forces himself to break away.

“I have to go. I’m sorry.”

Y/N’s face falls, which further illustrates Peter’s point that this would have been a great time to tell her how he felt. “Now? Why?”

Peter fishes around desperately for a good excuse. He can do that, right?

“I’m, uh, afraid of criminals, and there’s a robbery going on right now.”

He can’t do that. That was terrible.

Y/N raises a brow suspiciously. “You’re afraid of criminals? You work for a newspaper. I’ve seen your photographs of active crime scenes.”

Peter grimaces. “I never said I was good at my job.”

Y/N’s mouth flattens into a thin line. “Guess not.”

She turns away before he can do anything to fix this. “Goodnight, Peter. I hope you get a chance to say whatever was on your mind later.”

Peter extends a hand, but she’s already gone, disappearing behind a closing door. Peter watches her silhouette vanish, silently cursing himself for messing this up. He had no choice, but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t regret what happened. The screams sound again, and Peter turns and leaps cleanly off of the fire escape, rummaging around in his bag as he goes for his Spider-Man suit.

Peter manages to wrap up the crime-saving portion of his afternoon in about forty-five minutes, and although it technically wasn't the worst job he’s ever done, Peter can sense that his heart just wasn’t in it. Of course it wasn’t, though, Peter just watched his heart break alongside Y/N’s on that fire escape. He has a responsibility to protect the city as Spider-Man, but he wishes it didn’t have to get in the way of his life like this.

Peter trudges slowly back to his apartment, bones aching with every step. He glances quietly over his shoulder as he unlocks his door, but Y/N’s room is dark and silent. She probably had another show after the one he attended, and she won’t get back for a while.

Just as Peter pushes open his door, though, a black and white blur beats him inside. Peter shakes his head slowly, almost wanting to laugh at this latest misstep of fate. Now he’s got to return the cat to a Y/N who doesn’t even want to look at him. He doesn’t think this day could have any more mistakes.

Y/N comes home about an hour and a half later, and even though Peter is terrified to see her after he left so abruptly, he doesn’t want to worry about Sylvester, so he picks up the cat and forces himself over.

He knocks once on the door, and seeing as Y/N probably knows it’s him, she takes her time in answering. Peter hates himself the second she cracks open the door; seeing her there, in the shadow of the hall, is a shameful sight. The shadows under her red-rimmed eyes are dark, and she leans against the frame as if she requires it to stay on her feet. He did this to her, by being so cruel, and it cuts him to the quick.

At first, Peter can scarcely do more than just hold out the offending cat in front of him. “Sylvester has escaped again.”

Y/N inclines her head once. “Ah.”

She wordlessly opens the door so he can walk inside, cat included. Peter knows that he’s probably supposed to put Sylvester down and leave again, but once he’s faced with leaving again the words spill out in a rush.

“I love you. That’s what I was supposed to say back there on the fire escape, and I should have just gone ahead and said it, but I didn’t, and I’m so sorry for hurting you. I love you a lot.”

When Peter manages to gather up the courage to turn around and face Y/N again, he doesn’t know what to think. At first, she just stares at him, and then all at once her lips twist up into a smile and he’s good again, he’s alright. It’s all alright.

“Took you long enough to say it. I thought you never would.”

Peter flushes in spite of himself. “In my defense, I kept trying to, but a lot of things kept getting in the way.”

Y/N gives him a disbelieving look around her grin. “What things? Your fear of criminals.”

Peter shakes his head once. “I’m Spider-Man.”

Her grin is gone in an instant. “Oh.”

It sounds no more absurd than his supposed fear of criminals, but maybe Y/N can sense that he’s telling the truth this time, because she looks so stunned that he knows she believes him. Y/N takes a moment longer to grapple with this, then she nods slowly.

“That makes sense, actually. You always had to leave because you were out protecting people. I get that.”

Peter winces. “I should have done better for you, though. I should have told you earlier, both things.”

Y/N starts to speak, and then she just walks forward and pulls him close. Peter’s fairly certain that a hug has never felt better in any other day of his life.

“Never mind that, alright? You’re here now, and I know why. I love you too, by the way.”

Peter smiles at last. “I think that’s the best thing I’ve ever heard.”

Y/N’s got that look on her face that she keeps only for when he’s being a dramatic fool, but this time he means it. Peter has photographed a thousand people’s miracles, seen weddings and funerals and parades for every little thing, but nothing has ever hit him like this. This is his, for one, this love. It’s both of theirs, and it’s perfect. Peter has never needed anything else.

marvel tag list: @namoreno, @thatfangirl42,  @rogueanschel, @mycosmicparadise, @ellobruv-blog, @caswinchester2000, @with-inked-solace, @sher-lokid7

requested by @thornyrose463, who also made this moodboard!

[potter-imagines]

Left Waiting at The Three Broomsticks (Fred Weasley x Read)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: Hi! I was wondering if I could have a Fred Weasley imagine where he pisses off his gf somehow and so she gives him the silent treatment and only talks to literally everyone (including George) but him so he gets all jealous and pouty lol. Eventually he gets her to start talking to him again and then it’s all fluff etc. Hopefully this wasn’t a confusing request! Thank you!! :)

Warning: Tiny bit of sexual content towards the end, little bit of swearing, kinda angst at the beginning ?? and a lil towards the end ?? I think that's all, a lot of fluff scattered about

Word Count: 9.5k (I am so sorry I got carried away)

Two hours. Y/n had spent two hours waiting for him. Two stupid hours on a Saturday night that she could have spent elsewhere making something productive of her day but no. The last two hours Y/n had been seated in a small booth in the corner of The Three Broomsticks waiting patiently for her boyfriend, Fred Weasley.

The thing that infuriated her the most was that it was his idea in the first place! Originally, the couple had planned a stay-in date in her dorm room for the night before, Friday, but other plans came up. Fred got tangled up in a prank with George that had landed him in detention with Snape for the night. Yes, it annoyed her but what could she do? It wasn’t like Snape would excuse Fred because she tells him they have a date. If anything, Snape would hold him back longer.

When Fred and George were finally dismissed, it was nearly eleven at night and Fred was sprinting down through the dungeons to the common room. Their arrangement was for eight and he was praying to anyone listening above that she was still awake, but not furious at him.

Skipping up the transporting stairs, Fred basically shouted the secret password at the Fat Lady making her narrow her eyes at him. She swung open, not without muttering about how rude he was, and Fred jumped inside. Ten or so students were scattered around the common room, chatting amongst themselves. Hermione, Ron and Harry sat around the couch near the grand fireplace. They sent Fred a wave, which he frantically returned. The golden trio watched in curiosity as Fred darted up the stairs of the girl’s dormitory.

Hermione looked back to the group and asked,

“Wonder what that’s about- he seemed in a hurry.”

“Heard him and George got detention. They put stink-bombs in the Slytherin common room! Heard it stained some of the furniture maroon!” Ron chuckled at his brother’s antics then resumed his debate with Harry over their thoughts on the Quidditch World Cup happening every four years. Harry tried to explain the concept of the Olympics to Ron, but Ron was too focused on how amazing it would be for the World Cup to happen each year. Hermione went back to her studies, blocking out the mindless bickering of the boys.

Above the common room, Fred Weasley was scurrying to his girlfriend’s dorm room. He hoped Angelina and Alicia were out so he could be alone with her. Their time spent together had been oddly less than usual the last few weeks. Fred had no change of heart- actually, he found himself falling more in love with her every day, but their final year at Hogwarts was creeping up from the woods and he was working on a dream career behind the scenes with George that was eating up his time with her. He had shared this idea with her before- but it was just an idea then. Fred and George planned on putting their dreams to action once they finished up the next year. He wanted her to come- George did as well, but he didn’t want to mention it until it was a reality.

Reaching his destination Fred took a second to compose himself. A thin line of sweat was forming near his forehead. This was the first chance he had to take a breather since detention ended. Fixing his dark robes Fred knocked against the door, quiet enough not to startle her but loud enough to hear.

“Y/n… Y/n… love, are you awake? It’s Fred-“

Abruptly, the heavy wooden door cracked open and a weary looking girl poked her head out into the quietness.

“Darling, did I wake you up? I’m so sorry.” Fred stepped forward and wrapped the girl in a tight embrace. Y/n’s head fell against his chest out of instincts. His arms fastened around her waist as he invited himself in the room, slowly walking her back.

“Here, go back to bed, love. You look exhausted.” Fred led the sluggish girl to her familiar bed. Throwing back the covers, he readjusted her pillows so there would be room for him to fit as well. Fred then walked back to Y/n and took her hand softly. Kissing the back of her hand, Fred helped Y/n get into bed then slipped in beside her. His arms snaked around her body without thought. The naturalness of holding her in his arms made Fred feel confident in his dreams of starting a future with her. All the tension in his body collapsed when she leaned into his frame. Fred held her close and kissed the side of her cheek lovingly.

“I’m sorry about detention tonight but I promise I’ll take you out Saturday, alright? We can have a date at Hogsmeade and spend the night together, does that sound nice?”

The sleepy witch gave a tired mumble and nodded her head. She was cuddled under a stack of blankets, wearing Fred’s sweatshirt which made him smile. He’d usually crack a joke at this and tease her but, she was already asleep when he looked back to her. Fred couldn’t help but stare at her for a while. There was never a moment that went by where Fred didn’t think of Y/n as anything other than beautiful but in these moments, she looked ethereal.

Moonlight poured in from the open window and splashed across her s/c cheeks. Her hair was sprawled against the white pillowcase. Fred smiled at the sound of her light snores. Fred wouldn’t leave until he was sure she was deep asleep. It was their thing. She hated going to bed without him there.

“Okay, I love you, Y/n. Get some sleep, angel.” Fred whispered.

He pecked her forehead, then kissed her lips gently. Removing the covers, Fred tucked them back into Y/n so she could keep warm. He closed the open window then tip toed out of the room. Instead of rejoining his friends, Fred decided to head to his room. He felt too guilty for missing out on their plans to go have his own fun. Anyways he did have a Potions paper coming up and if he was going to spend the day with you Saturday, he surely wouldn’t be doing any homework.

So, the plan was confirmed the next morning, Friday. Y/n ran into Fred on her way to breakfast and they discussed where they’d meet and a time. They ate breakfast together, walked to class, then headed in different directions when six rolled around. Fred had a Quidditch match and she had a group project, so they didn’t cross paths for the rest of the night. Even though he refused to admit it, Fred absolutely hated when Y/n missed one of his games. His favorite thing to do was search for her in the stands during each game and it made him sad not to see her smiling face standing out in the crowd. Y/n entered the common room around midnight and went straight for her bed. Gryffindor had lost so there wasn’t a single housemate sitting in the common room. She could only imagine how upset Fred must be, she’d be hearing about it tomorrow. Y/n giggled to herself at the recollection of Fred’s angry rants about his teammates to you in private. She basically crawled to her bed, dreaming about the handsome, goofy, witty twin that had captured her heart.

Which would bring us to Saturday night. Fred and Y/n had made specific plans; they were to meet at The Three Broomsticks at seven then hangout for a while and spend the rest of their night sneaking around the castle with the help of The Marauder’s Map. Fred had practice at six so he was planning on meeting up with the girl at the pub. Y/n expected him to be running late- it wouldn’t be Fred if he didn’t show up a good twenty minutes late.

Only Fred never showed up at seven thirty, not at eight, and by the time nine neared, he was still nowhere in sight. The Three Broomsticks would stay open for a few more hours but the thought of sitting there alone for any longer, jumping at the sound of the door every time it opened, it made Y/n feel less than sane.

Throwing a handful of coins on the table, Y/n thanked her server then exited through the front doors. The walk back to the castle wasn’t long but being with Fred made it a lot more amusing. He’d pick her flowers, give her piggy back rides, play games, race, and hold her hand the whole walk back.

This time, Y/n walked alone hugging the material of her raincoat to her chest. A light drizzle had been pouring on and off for most of the day. Earlier, it was perfectly bearable- hardly noticeable. Although the weather had only worsened as the night grew darker. Hard rain drops crashed against Y/n coat, cascading down her covered arms and bouncing to the wet ground. Her black boots were soaked. She could feel the water rising to her socks, one of her biggest hatreds. Wet socks.

The hood of her jacket only helped so much before the pelting raindrops started to seep to her hair. Typically, Y/n loved the rain. If Fred was here, they’d be dancing right now. But he wasn’t, she had no clue where he was and that was exactly what Y/n was headed to find out.

By the time Y/n made it back to the castle and up to the Gryffindor common room, it was past ten.

Much as Y/n had expected, the common room was lively with energy and conversations. Katie, Alicia, and Angelina were all sitting in a circle with Fred, George, Lee Jordan, Seamus, and Dean. A dark bottle of Dragon Barrel brandy and Daisyroot Draught were being passed amongst them. Y/n watched as Fred leaned into his brother’s side, obviously tipsy and slurring his words while he practically shouted to their friends who were only sitting feet away.

His frame twitched with every small hiccup he let out. The whole group was smiling, they were happy. Y/n wondered to herself if Fred even noticed that she wasn’t there. She wondered if he liked it more when she wasn’t there, they were having fun and although the group was also her friends, no one was interested enough to invite her. Biting on the tender skin of her bottom lip, Y/n bundled her fist to her sides. The anger refused to simmer, only continued to boil. Her dripping clothes weren’t helpful to her sour mood.

It wasn’t the fault of her friends, no, but they were bound to get caught in the crossfires. Fred was the one who left her waiting for hours on end. Her chest was tight- livid yet sad all at once. It was an aggravating feel, unfamiliar. Y/n hated the suffocation entering her drying throat. More than anything she longed to handle situations like these in an aloof fashion. The last thing wanted was to wear her emotions on her sleeve, but she couldn’t help it. Her head screamed ‘just go to bed, ignore him’ but her heart wanted to scream at him and let him know just how bad he had hurt her. Her breathing quickened, each inhale received a choppy exhale.

For the first time, Y/n decided not to join her friends or to even say a word to Fred about how he stood her up. She was sick of it- completely exhausted and drained from his lack of care and presences in their relationship the last few weeks. If he wanted her as bad as he claimed, he’d find a way to show it. And leaving her sitting alone in a noisy pub while he partied and drank with their friends, showed her the exact opposite of his words.

Diverting her leer from the inebriated group and studied the rest of the room, hearing voices near the sitting area. Harry, Ron, Hermione, and Neville were all staring at Y/n in mixed judgement. Harry, Ron and Neville looked concerned by the appearance of Y/n. Hermione on the other hand, she was absolutely flabbergasted, Y/n could see the pity written on her face. You had mentioned having a date night with Fred in Hogsmeade to the four the night before. Harry had invited Y/n to hangout with them and visit Hagrid, but she politely declined and informed them about the special night Fred had planned for them.

Harry and Hermione stood up at the same time ready to comfort the teary-eyed girl. They motioned her over but just as she started towards them, Angelina Johnson noticed her friend who had been absent for most of the night. Setting the bottle of brandy down, Angelina wobbled up to her feet and smiled giddily,

“Y/n! Come- come drink with us! I was wondering where you- why… why’re you all wet?”

As the words fell from her mouth, a crowd of eyes planted on Y/n. Her fists clenched, bone white knuckles visible, at her sides. Angelina scurried over to her friend and wrapped her in a tender hug. If the scenario had been different, she’d gladly join in the fun but there wasn’t an ounce in her body that desired a drink.

Y/n’s eyes found their way to the boy she had been longing for all night. Her lips quivered, the anger and sadness reaching it’s overpour. He looked so handsome, so happy, but it meant nothing to her.

Pulling back, Angelina squinted in confusion at Y/n. The lack of embrace given back had thrown her off. The group had been awaiting her arrival, no one was quite sure where she’d gone off to. Angelina scanned Y/n’s reddening face, noticing the emotions bubbling under the surface.

Moving away, the dark-skinned girl turned to her friends. No one else seemed to notice the offset of Y/n’s attitude.

“Angel, where have you been? I missed you!” Fred’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. Quickly standing up, he held his hand out to his girlfriend. Y/n shot a dangerous look to his outreach, then up to his face. Usually she’d find his toothy grin and childlike state loveable but for obvious reasons, it made her irate.

Stepping back, Y/n sternly scowled at Fred,

“Missed me? You’re the one who left me waiting all goddamn night, Fred Weasley.”

A part of Y/n felt guilty for forcing her friends to witness their unpleasant exchange. George was now to his feet standing behind Fred, just as lost as the group he had been sitting with. Despite the alcohol running in his veins, George could sense an argument budding by the second.

“Not like any of you really seemed to care where I was.” Y/n kicked herself for this cold statement.

Her friends weren’t at fault- not in the slightest. But everyone was at risk of becoming a victim to her fiery wrath. In actuality, it did hurt her a little that no one had gone searching for her. It had been hours! Tears welled in her eyes as she took in the reactions of the group. George took his arm off Alicia and nudged his twin.

“What- I don’t know what you’re talking ‘bout, love. I think you should have a drink and loosen up-“

Y/n couldn’t take it. She just couldn’t take it anymore. Scrunching her face, she used every bit of strength to force her salty tears to hide at bay. Although her emotions screamed to be heard and saw right through her façade. Sweeping her hand across her cheek, Y/n caught the stray tears that rolled down her rosy cheeks. Huffing all her emotions out at once, Y/n shook Fred away from her and hurried towards her room.

Fred stood appearing dumbfounded. He could only gawk in perplexity. Blame it on the alcohol, but Fred’s mind was drawing a blank when surveying her words. For most of the night, he was the one thinking she was leaving him waiting. No one else had a clue as to where she’d gone off to, so he assumed she was in the library or wanted some space.

“You’re an idiot, Fred.” Hermione’s sharp voice cut through the thick air. The happiness and drunken laughter was extinct. The girl’s shared an exchange, all confused as to what just happened. The glass bottles didn’t help clear their judgement. Dean and Seamus took small sips from the Daisyroot Draught. The tension was unbearable, it felt wrong for their friends to be a part of it.

George set a hand on Fred’s shoulder, pulling him back slightly. Leaning forward, George whispered to his twin,

“I reckon it’s best if we turn it in for the night.” Fred gave a tug of protest. His intoxicated fought against him though he knew he did something wrong and needed to find Y/n. In spite of his desire to chase after the girl, George couldn’t let him do that. It was obvious Fred had forgotten something and Y/n was more than upset. Sending his brother up to drunkenly apologize to his hurting girlfriend for a reason he can’t even recall, that was a recipe for disaster and would only cause a bigger mess.

“Fred, you’re going to bed. You’re too drunk to talk to Y/n right now, okay? We’re going up the boy’s stairs, not the girls, okay? You two can talk in the morning, maybe you’ll remember where you fucked up tonight by then.”

Suddenly, Fred stop moving and let out a low groan,

“Oh shit… merlin’s sake, I fucked up, George. Oh my god- Hogsmeade… shit! I told her we’d meet at Hogsmeade and I forgot-“Fred whipped around in his discombobulated state. Everything clicked at once. Fred had been so concentrated on Quidditch that once practice had wrapped up, his exhausted body dragged him back to the common room out of muscle memory. It was his typical routine; Quidditch practice, head back to his dorm, shower, change, eat, work on some possible products with George, then hangout with his friends. How could he be so neglectful?

George sent his brother a comforting look then grabbed him by the shoulders, helping aid him up the winding staircase. It came as a shock to him that Fred had forgotten about their date. All he spoke about was Y/n, it was a rare occurrence for the couple to

“So that’s where she’s been all night?” George pushed open the door to their room, looking to his twin sternly. Fred had most of his weight piled on George, trying his hardest to remain upright. Lee had decided to stay back, allowing the brothers a chance to talk.

George helped his frantic twin in the dark room, then gave him a light push towards his bed. Fred plopped down, burying his face in the fluffy pillow. Pulling off his jumper, George threw the large maroon comforter over Fred’s tall frame while he wailed,

“I’m a terrible boyfriend. I planned the bloody date too! I left her-“

“How ‘bout you get some rest? You can find her in the morning and apologize to her and… hope for the best. It’ll give you more time to think of a way to make it up to her. You’re just a rambling mess right now.” The alcohol was not wearing George down. He had been on an adrenaline high since his second shot. This was the first moment of the night where he had stepped back. His tiresome hands rubbed against his face as he made his way to his bed and collapsed on it.

Fred was still moaning on, the sound of his drunken voice making it harder for George to fight back the urge to sleep,

“She’s gonna dump my sorry ass-“

“Go to bed, Fred. It’ll be okay.”

George let out a sigh of exhaustion. The twins had been best friends with Y/n since they were just children, new to Hogwarts and unfamiliar with the power of magic. It pained him to see his brother hurt, but it also hurt to see Y/n upset. He was stuck between a rock and a hard place.

Turning his head, George let out a breathy chuckle at the sight of his twin passed out cold. The worry that dripped from his voice was now gone as he eased into his dreamland.

George wanted to scold him, knock him upside the head for skipping out on Y/n again. He cared a lot about her, she was basically a sister, a triplet to him. If Fred was gonna win her back, it wasn’t going to be easy, George knew this. Y/n was stubborn, and the twins had witnessed this first hand for years, it was a trait they loved, when not directed towards either of them.

As George’s head hit the pillow, all he could do was pray to Godrick that the morning would bring good news.

Sunday morning arrived much faster than Y/n had hoped. A bright, loud, light interrupted her sleep as the gears in her head started to turn. Her mind was groggy, the events of last night were foggy. Warm sunlight broke through the glass stained windows. Y/n wiped her eyes and slowly sat up. Her mouth was dry, screaming for a drink of water.

For a minute, she felt calm- happy almost. The room was half empty; Angelina’s bed was bare and Alicia laid in a star-fish position, a snore sounding from her mouth. The image made Y/n laugh.

Standing up, Y/n’s hands flew above her head as she stretched. She cracked her back, a morning ritual for the girl. Just as she reached for the knob of her dresser, a wave of recollection nearly knocked her off her feet.

Fred had stood her up, of course, how could she forget? The irritated skin under her eyes and nose suddenly made sense. Leaning against the wooden cabinet, Y/n huffed. It was times like these she wished she could crawl into bed and stay there for eternity. Nothing would get better though if she didn’t at least try to fix it.

As quick as the thought came, it had evaporated once more. Why did she have to be the one to put forth the effort to fix things? There was no use in fixing their relationship if Fred wasn’t willing to try too. More than try, Y/n thought. It took a piece of her when she came back to the castle just to see him drinking with their friends, not thinking a thought of her. She needed to see that he cared. His words held no value to her anymore, not until he could prove he meant what he said.

Y/n went through her morning routine like a snail, wanting to drag out her time. Eventually, she was fully dressed and ready for the day. She liked to take advantage of the days her school robes weren’t required. The cooling weather led her to a fuzzy black sweater, and light washed jeans. Sliding her delicate wand into her back pocket, Y/n exited the room and took the stairs down to the common room.

Approaching the bottom of the steps, Y/n could hear familiar voices exchanging hush words. She stepped into the room and was surprised to see the lack of students. The only ones present were sat one the long leather couch on the left half of the massive room. All of their gazes fell on Y/n.

Fred, George, Ron, Angelina, Harry and Hermione were all relaxing- well all of them except Fred. He on the other hand was frantic- disheveled. His knee bounced in anticipation. The clock was sneaking

“Oh, uh, hey Y/n!” Ron Weasley moved his hand side to side, waving to Y/n. The temptation to admire the handsome boy at his side leaped into her heart. Using every ounce of strength, Y/n trained her eyes on Ron, not allowing a single peek at Fred.

“Hey, Y/n/n!” The voice of Angelina brought a perk to Y/n’s head.

“Hi.” She greeted the younger Weasley and her close friend back, then headed for the portrait. Before she could make it half the distance, the tall figure of her boyfriend appeared.

“Angel, how did you sleep?” Fred was by her side in an instant. He was desperately trying to read her expression, testing the waters to see her mood. He had hardly slept, he spent most of the night thinking about this exact moment, when he’d have the chance to apologize and make it up to the girl he loved. “Can we please talk? I’m really sorry for last night, honestly, I am so so sorry, darling.”

Y/n stared at him, or rather, through him. It was like she didn’t see the tall wizard in front of her.

“I’m gonna go study, I’ll meet you with you guys later.”

“Y/n, love-“ His warm hand took hold of her of her own, an action she’d typically love. The familiar grasp sent a burst of comfort in her stomach, but she ignored it.

Wiggling out of his grip, the girl shot him a look of displeasure then rushed off. Hermione chased after her, no one else brave enough to step in. Besides, Hermione was one of her closest friends. Watching the younger girl follow after her roommate, Angelina walked after them. Fred stomped like a toddler having a tantrum as the portrait swung open then closed. He knew he had to do something- anything to get her to talk to him again, and that was his plan.

For a Sunday evening, the school library was relatively empty. A majority of the students occupying the tables were studying away for their O.W.L.S. The exams weren’t for another two months but hardly anyone dared to procrastinate until the last week before opening their books. The stress of the exams was enormous, but the students still had other classes to keep in mind.

Y/n Y/n/l and George Weasley were sitting across from on another at a study table. Three hefty textbooks were open as the two discussed their Potions paper. Y/n had been stuck on hers and George had yet to start so they decided to head to the library together and get it done.

Fred was usually right by their side, his hand wrapped around Y/n’s shoulders, but she neglected an invite for him. About an hour after their exchange in the common room, Y/n had apologized to each friend she had snapped on the night prior. They were understanding, clearly seeing where her frustrations had come for. They also felt bad as she was right, no one had even checked to see where she’d gone, and George especially felt terrible for not searching for his friend.

At least three hours had passed since the two Gryffindors started their study session. Y/n was sneaking up on her last two pages while George still had three left. They collaborated every few minutes, then returned to tranquil silence, scribbling away.

Y/n was in the middle of sharing her idea for the last section of her paper when George’s eyes brighten and he interrupted her,

“Fred, how nice of you to join us.”

Turning in her chair, Y/n found her boyfriend standing behind her with a nervous smile. She hated how perfect he looked, even in the poor lighting of the library. He still managed to make her breath hitch in the back of her throat.

“Hi, Y/n. You look beautiful as always.” Fred announced himself softly. George scoffed teasingly, muttering a ‘hello’ to himself to make up for his brother ignoring him. Freds words were genuine though didn’t make much of a difference. Y/n was still hurt and a compliment wasn’t going to mend that. She needed to feel it, to see him truly show that he cared- that she meant something to him. That she was deserving of his time. Sweet comments didn’t not add up to that feeling.

George closed his textbook, then glanced up at his twin,

“Should I leave?”

Before Fred could answer, Y/n slammed her hand on top of George’s Potions book. Wide eyed and frightened, the boy gaped in shock. Even Fred was taken aback by her unexpecting movement. Leering at her friend Y/n replied,

“No. I want you to stay, we were in the middle of a conversation.”

Fred’s heart dropped at her words. It was heartbreaking to have the girl of his dreams now shunning him- brushing him off with ease. It was driving him mad. All he wanted was for her to acknowledge him, give him a little hope that he can earn his way back in her heart. He loved her, every bit of him loved her.

All he wanted was to make it up to her for his mistakes the night before. He couldn’t stop thinking about the look on her face when she saw him sitting with their friends. She was miles exceeded hurt- more devastated at his negligence than hurt alone.

Maybe it was the fear of meeting the reality that losing Y/n was a possibility, but Fred experienced a new sort of emotion when his girlfriend asked for his brother to stay. Yes, they’re friends, all three of them are. Fred had to remind himself of this like a record on repeat. He couldn’t fight the envy off though.

It made his heart twist as she stared at George. Never did he think he’d be jealous of his own twin, but Fred was livid. The seething stream of covetousness overtook his veins. Fred wanted to be the one you ran to for comfort, not his brother. His entire life he had shared everything with George, Y/n was far too meaningful to Fred for her to be shared.

Now it does take two for a turn of events like that to happen. Fred knew, clear as day, that George had no romantic feelings for Y/n and she had none for George. This was true, but for some reason, it didn’t help tame Fred’s envy.

He knew causing a jealous scene would do no good for anyone, so Fred realigned his train of thought and asked,

“Could I steal you from that conversation, please love? I really need to apologize to you.”

Fred allowed his hands to reveal themselves from their previous position hiding behind his back. When he moved them, a full bouquet of colorful flowers and small green plants of different shapes and sizes. The flowers were a display of fuchsia, pink, orange, red, and yellow. They were beautiful, so beautiful, Y/n thought to herself. She couldn’t help the gasp that slipped past her lips.

Fred had gotten her flowers their first-year dating but since the last month or so, she hadn’t received many of his heartwarming gifts. It wasn’t the monocle value of a present but the thought and attention to care that captured Y/n’s heart. Fred had always been the best at creating meaningful gifts on a tight budget. Whether it was flowers he stole from school grounds, or necklaces he made out of stones she found around the Great Lake. He’d make her perfume- proving rather excellent in the Potions department. He also asked Molly to teach him how to knit in order to make Y/n a sweater. This of course delighted Molly over the moon.

George bit on the skin of his knuckles to keep for laughing at his brother. He recognized the flowers, as did Y/n. Fred had picked them from the garden outside the castle- something that had earned him a detention before. George decided not to comment on his observation, Fred was sure to murder him in his sleep if he put his apology in any jeopardy.

Fred extended the bouquet to his flustered girlfriend. He felt a sense of accomplishment while watching her reaction. It was small to most, but for as stubborn as she was, it was big in his eyes. The girl reached forward, accepting the gift with a tiny smile rising to her lips, one she didn’t force down.

For the first time since the night before, Y/n fully saw Fred. She peered directly at him silently. George glanced between the two, stuck between a dual. Without speaking, Fred took some steps forward and pulled the chair next to Y/n out. He slipped into the seat, the couple still staring at each other. Y/n studied his demeanor, he didn’t push her anymore, but he wouldn’t leave her side. Not that she would tell him but, she was happy he joined in. She didn’t want him to leave, she had missed being around him. Tearing herself away, Y/n focused herself back on the other twin.

“As I was saying, George…”

Fred drowned out the words but accepted the fact that Y/n didn’t reject him from sitting down. She also didn’t set the flowers down for the rest of their study session. The remained clutched in her hands, resting in her lap the whole time.

Monday night came in the blink of an eye. Classes had resumed and the castle was bustling in stress. When the end of the year neared, the time spent sitting through lectures was an eternity, while the weekends flew by. Fred had always hated summer break, actually, that’s not entirely true. His dismissive of break budded around the same time his relationship with Y/n became official.

Their first two years, she would spend the holiday back home in London with her family. She loved her family but once she experienced her first holiday at the Burrow, she never wanted to miss another. Her family was a bit distant, not the warm and welcoming pure-bloods like the Weasley’s, but not as cold as the Malfoy’s. Y/n’s family had no issues with her spending breaks at the Burrow, as long as she had Molly and Arthur Weasley’s approval. Molly insisted each time that there was no need for her to even ask to stay. They accepted her with open arms, ecstatic to see Fred had found such a lovely girl.

The end of the school term was coming up and Fred needed to fix things with Y/n before that happened. She planned to spend the break at his family’s home and he feared she’d take her agreement back if things weren’t improved between them. Spending almost two days stuck in the anger of his love was two days too many. Fred was going to fix this and he planned the best idea he could think of, good thing he had their friends happily available to help.

Unbeknownst to Y/n, while she was resting up from her illness Harry, Ron, Lee and George were helping Fred create his masterplan. Hermione helped in her own way by remaining near Y/n’s dorm, sitting in as the lookout. It gave her an excuse to get her school work done so she didn’t protest.

Alicia and Angelina stayed in the room. Once Y/n started to feel better, thanks to Madam Pomfrey, the girl’s altered Hermione who passed the news along to Harry as the chain continued until it reached Fred. At the confirmation, his plan was set into action. Ron was sent to retrieve the girl after Alicia and Angelina convinced her to get some food from the dining hall.

She walked through the common room then down the moving staircase, when her redheaded friend popped up. Ron scared the girl, making her stumble back, her hand placed over her chest.

“Y/n! I’m so glad I ran into you! No one has seen you all day- Angelina said you were feeling ill this morning.” Ron rambled at a fast pace. Y/n, still surprised by his sudden arrival, took a deep inhale, nodding to the boy,

“Yeah, I saw Madam Pomfrey this morning when classes started. I just had a stomach bug and she said I’d have to wait it out but the medicine she gave me seems to be doing the trick.” Y/n gave Ron a kind smile. Ron was two years younger than her but they had always been great friends. Y/n would travel to the Burrow as a guest of the twins during the holiday breaks, so Ron and her had spent a lot of time hanging out together. It was sweet of him to ask how she was doing, but he didn’t seem that her health was the reason for their conversation.

“That’s good to hear. You wouldn’t happen to be heading anywhere, are you?”

“Just to get some food. I’m starving-“ Ron nodded eagerly, cutting his friend off in the process.

“That’s great! I mean, not great, just… well… uh, follow me please!” Scrambling like a mess, Ron clasped his hand over Y/n’s wrist and abruptly dragged her down the stone corridor. She couldn’t find the words to question him and allowed Ron to lead the way. Her curiosity was far too big to ignore his odd request.

Ron carried on for another five minutes then took a sharp turn, heading for the courtyard. Two figures ran off around the side of the castle in the darkness. Y/n swore she recognized the pair as George and Lee. What were they up to? Snapping her head to the younger boy, Y/n waited for him to fill her in on why he had dragged her halfway across the castle to the freezing courtyard.

“Okay! We’re here- I’m just gonna… head out. See ya, Y/n!” Ron rushed his farewell then ran off towards the direction George and Lee had escaped to. What in the world is going on? Left by herself without any explanation, Y/n threw her hand up in annoyance.

“What?”

Alone in the cold, Y/n wrapped the opening of her fuzzy cardigan against her body, attempting to keep warm. Although warmth entered her vein as a pair of arms snaked around her waist, snatching her backwards into a firm surface. She gasped, thrown off by her attacker and tried to turn in retaliation, but their grasp was far too firm. The familiarity of the hold made her body ease up. As much time as the spent together, she could recognize his touch anywhere. Fred.

His touch released a swarm of butterflies through the girl. She could feel the anger washing away as she leaned her body into his chest, having pined for his arms for two too many days than she was accustomed to.

The tall Gryffindor held her tightly. Moving forward, Fred pressed his lips against the shell of Y/n’s ear. The heat of his breath causing her to shudder as he whispered,

“I’m so happy you came, darling.”

Y/n smirked, looking up at him. The concurrent willfulness of her nature could only carry on for so long until her headstrong demeanor crumbled. A pang of chagrin still grumbled in her stomach but the sight in front of her certainly was a runner in her change of heart.

Soaking in her surroundings, Y/n realized they were just a few hundred feet outside Hargid’s hut. This explained the garden full of massive orange pumpkins. In the middle of the path was a small gazebo decorated in fairy lights and sunflowers. A small table set for two was tucked inside. Small teacup white candles line the path, creating a runway of sorts. Another candle, larger and purple, sat flickering in the breeze in the center of the neat table.

Y/n stood motionless absorbing the creation her boyfriend made- all for her. Speechlessness was not common for Y/n so Fred undoubtably began to second guess if his efforts were good enough. His fears were stomped in a matter of moments when Y/n harshly yanked at the material of his collar and placed a brisk, short kiss to his lips. Fred was startled, losing the opportunity to kiss her back but Y/n didn’t want him to. It gave her a sense of control- they still had issues they needed to work out, but she loved him nonetheless. Besides, avoiding and staying mad at Fred forever? Impossible. In two days, Y/n had to stop herself a million different times from approaching Fred and sharing a laugh with him, or kissing him, or holding his hand and giving him a hug. She didn’t want to fight off the urge anymore- and Fred couldn’t handle the distance spaced between them. Thus, being the motivation for his grand, heartfelt, date.

“I’ll assume that means you like it. I won’t take all the credit- it was my idea, but our friends are the main reason I was able to pull this off. I feel really bad and… I need to do something special for you- I don’t do that enough lately. I forget sometimes to remind you how important you are in my life and how much I love you.” Fred sheepishly smiled, nervously awaiting her reaction.

The small table was set, a new bundle of crimson red roses placed on her seat. To the side of her plate was a small box with a beautifully wrapped ribbon tied to the top. Fred had a special way of showing his love and adoration for his girlfriend, but even this was new to her. Never before had he gone so over the top to prove his feelings to her.

Y/n lifted her hand and intertwined it with Fred’s, smiling up at him,

“It’s gorgeous, Freddie.” The bashful smile made Fred’s heart melt on sight. He had prepared himself for the repetitive rejection she had been sending, so when she whispered those sweet words, his chest tightened, and his pace stopped.

Fred almost fainted in shock at the sound of her voice. He squeezed her light hand and drew it back, forcing her body into his own. Y/n couldn’t help the laugh that fell from her lips. She missed his playful ways. With the foreheads pressed against each other, Fred grinned,

“I’ve missed your voice, love.”

Although his words made her heart take flight, the reality of her hurt was still roaming. Y/n detached herself from his grasp and rested her hand on the black metal table. Her fingertips fumbled with the white cloth, it served as a distraction only for a short period of time. Fred sent her a sorrowful look. Her shift in moods was confusing to him, he only wanted to make things better.

Y/n sighed and ran her hand through her h/c locks. Closing her eyes, she inhaled deeply then asked,

“Why don’t you have time for me anymore, Fred?” The question of the night- or rather month. His date was beautiful, absolutely stunning. As riveting as it was, it couldn’t erase the hurt she had been experiencing.

Fred shook his head frantically, dismissing the accusation. He knew why she would think that way, he understood. It wasn’t true, though. Actions speak louder than words and Fred despised the fact that recently, his feelings for Y/n weren’t lining up with his actions. His words could only do so much. But he also knew soon, things would be different. Missing the Hogsmeade date was his fault, and he paid for it. Two days might seem minute to most, but when you spend essentially everyday attached to someone’s hip, two days of them purposely ignoring you and speaking to every soul expect you, it can feel like a lifetime. He realized a few things in this time.

Fred remembered how fun it was to act as if he was still trying to win her over. Gifts, no matter their cost, always brought a gleam to her face which never failed to make Fred grin. However, it was much more entertaining when she wasn’t upset with him and would throw the flirtatious comments right back at him. He was also reminded of how lucky he was to be with Y/n. While she ignored him, Fred found himself envious of every living being Y/n spoke to, as they were not him. When he started engulfing himself in his plans for the joke shop, his effort in his relationship had decreased and this was something he vowed to never let happen again.

“I’ll always have time for you, darling. And if I don’t, I’ll make some. I truly am sorry about this weekend- you don’t deserve that.”

“It just seems like you’re distracted, like you don’t care anymore.” Y/n batted her reddening eyes, finally throwing her worries to the air.

“No, no, Y/n, not at all. I’m so sorry I made you feel that way, love. I’m a terrible excuse of a boyfriend, I never meant to create this mess. I love you so much.” Fred’s head bowed down. It tore him up to know the way his actions made her feel, the only girl he loved.

“I love you too, Freddie. I really do but I can’t feel alone in this relationship. I let our date Friday slide, even though I was annoyed, but Saturday night? I feel like it broke me. Just knowing you forgot about me-“ Y/n fought back the burning sensation in her eyes as the tears began to brim.

The anxiety blooming inside her was clear to Fred. Suppose that was the downside to dating your best friend, they can always tell when somethings wrong. Before a tear could hit the floor, he whisked her to the iron garden chair, then kneels before her, his hands holding her face as if it was a priceless, dainty piece of china.

“I didn’t forget about you, darling, that’s impossible to do. I’ve been… well I’ve been working on something with George for when we leave school next year. It’s real important to me and I wanted to share it with you but I was scared that it might not happen but… if I have your support and you with us, I know it’ll happen.”

“What’re you rambling on about, Fred?”

“Remember how I told you that George and I wanted to open a joke shop? Well, it’s happening… I think. We’re really close, we just gotta make it through next year then we’re free! We’ll have our own joke shop and get to sell our own products and start our future.”

A silence overtook the atmosphere. Y/n’s lips were stuck open in a small ‘o’ shape, eyes glued to the floor. Was he really going to leave her all alone next year? Would they have to break up? Surely, he wouldn’t want to be in a long-distance relationship.

She was snapped from her own mind when her skin registered the touch of Fred’s lips as they traced her knuckles, kissing each finger as he did. His eyes then peered up to meet her own. She could tell he was serious by the feeling of his stare. Then he continued, making Y/n perk up,

“But none of that can happen without you… Y/n I want you to come with me. Move in with George and I, start a future with me. We want you to be a part of the shop. I want you there. You’re the only girl I want, for the rest of my life.”

Her once open mouth clamped shut in a swift motion. Ever since she met the twins, Y/n wanted a future with Fred. Everyone saw it as a childhood crush, but she always knew it was more. She never stopped loving him- never could. Even when his pranks took a step too far over the line. They always found their way back to each other and would work through it. Fights such as the most recent were rare- but Fred’s admission filled in a lot of empty spaces that had left Y/n sleepless for days. Finally, the crushing weight was lifted from her chest as she choked out a shaky breath.

Leaping forward from the chair, Y/n threw her body into her boyfriend’s body and clamped him in a koloa like hold. Fred chuckled in amusement, falling onto the near ground at her jump.

“Why do you have to be so lovable? I hate it. I should be angry with you, but I just love you too much. Besides, I think you did enough suffering.” She giggled as she pinched his round cheeks in her hands. Fred poked his tongue out at her and grabbed at her sides. Y/n swatted his hands away, giving him a stern glare saying, ‘don’t push it’.

Slowly, she leaned down and brushed her lips against Fred’s, smirking down at him. It was a change in roles. In their more adult situations, Fred was typically the one on top with Y/n pinned below him, but that’s a story for another time.

A small, almost whimper, sound came from Fred. He hated being teased- that was his job. Dragging out the moment, Y/n tugged on the skin of his bottom lip with her teeth, earning a groan of approval from Fred. She grazed over his mouth one last time before dipping her head down to meet his and interlocking their lips, still straddling his waist. Fred’s hips pushed towards her core out of instinct. Not ready to give in quite yet, Y/n lifted her body and shifted forward, entrapping Fred even more so in the heated kiss.

They parted for seconds to sneak a bit of air, then continued their needed make out. It had been a while since they proved their love to each other in this way. For the last month, it had been small kisses here and there when the couple had a chance to see each other. Y/n needed his touch- she needed him. Fred longed to have under him, pleasuring her. He desperately wanted to sink his head between her legs and really show her just how much he loved her.

The coldness of his fingertips hit Y/n’s skin as his fingers dug into the sides of her waist. As much as she longed to keep the exchange going, the last thing either of them needed was a detention.

Y/n plucked herself away, a small pout lining Fred’s lips. His hands remained tied up in her own, lying them on his stomach. The weight of his question seeped in like molasses. Opportunities like this presented themselves once in a lifetime, there was no way Y/n was going to let it slip by.

Rolling off his lap, Y/n plopped down on the ground to the side of Fred. Their heads turned simultaneously towards each other, Fred winking to Y/n.

This is what she wanted. To see him care for her, show his love. His attention. It was the one thing she had been striving for but now that the cat, or rather joke shop, was out of the bag, Fred didn’t feel the need to hide anything from her anymore and keep his work to himself. He was over the moon with excitement to have her join George and himself. It was everything he could hope for.

Coyly averting her peer, Y/n asked,

“Do you really mean it, Fred? You really want me to come with you and George?”

Kindly, Fred swiped his thumb under her chin and raised her head up so their eyes were level.

“I wouldn’t want you anywhere else in the world then with me.” The serenity in his voice didn’t go unnoticed. Y/n propped herself up to her elbows and brought Fred in a bone crushing hug. Heavy chuckles croaked from Fred as she smothered him lovingly. He managed to sneak in a tiny peck to her check and she hugged him. Placing her head on his shoulder, Y/n poked the side of Fred’s cheek, commenting,

“You’re gonna be stuck with me forever, Fred, I love it!”

Throwing his arm around the elated girl, Fred just smirked.

“Duh, that’s kind the whole point of you moving in with me.” He replied in a matter-of-fact tone. The night was growing darker and the steady wind was escalating. In an hour, two if they were lucky, Filch would be surveying the grounds in search of students, mainly Fred and George, out past curfew. It was a sport to him, catching students breaking rules and getting to turn them in. It was part of his job, yes, but Y/n hated that he never took it easy on anything for the Gryffindors like he did the Slytherins. Fred looked at the scenery around them and remarked,

“Y’know, angel, as much as I’d love to spend the rest of the night laying with you in my arms, we can do that in my dorm room tonight… in an actual bed instead of dirt. I mean, we didn’t set up this whole thing for nothing! If I knew laying in the dirt would win you back, you should’ve told me!” His sarcastic words were received with a light slap.

“Smart ass.” Y/n rolled her eyes teasingly and started to sit up. Before she could get to her feet, a pair of hands planted themselves at her waist and lifted her. Fred had his moments, but he was always a gentleman to her. His teasing ways were comforting to Y/n, reminding her that they were good now, in comparison to the recent downfalls.

Fred helped Y/n to her seat, then jogged over to his own. He presented the girl with a cake he made for her. Hermione brought him to the kitchens and taught him how to make one. It took about three hours, he burnt the first, put too many eggs in the second, then forgot to add eggs to the third. Finally, on the fourth attempt, Fred created a passable cake. Hermione had no desire to spend any more time in the kitchen, so she quickly frosted it for him, not wanting him to ruin it this far in, then covered it and locked it in the fridge. Much to Y/n’s surprise, it was one of the best homemade cakes she’d ever had. Her teeth were practically chattering from the intense amount of sugar, but she had to keep in mind it was Fred who baked it.

After eating, Fred and Y/n took their sweet time strolling around the castle. Fred swung his hand back and forth, causing the same effect to Y/n’s. They laughed feverishly as Fred chased Y/n up the moving stairs as they raced to the common room. When they entered the room, they sprinted straight for Fred’s, still in a chase. Hermione, Ron, Harry, George, Angelina, and Lee all watched in amusement as the couple seemed to be reunited.

“Wonder if they’re back together. You guys think the date worked?”

Everyone shared glances at the obliviousness of Ron. There were times when social cues and context clues just didn’t exist to Ron. George scoffed at his little brother and shook his head. The rest of the group roared with laughter as Ron’s face scrunched in irritation.

“Not sure, Ron. Why don’t you go out to our room and ask them?” George smirked mischievously causing Ron to turn white as a ghost in realization. A faint ‘oh’, tumbled out of his lips and his eyes went wide.

Despite their assumption, up in the top room in the Gryffindor boy’s dormitory, Fred Weasley laid snoring in his large mattress, still in his school robes. Squished against his chest by his arms, Y/n was sound asleep, similarly dressed. The two didn’t care what they looked like or who came in, as long as they were together, that’s all that mattered.