#none of this is helped by the way that i have seven thousand books waiting to be read right now and all of them are on my mind

[vulpinesaint]

desperately trying to remember if there are any books i read this year that i cannot find on my library borrowing history or simply cannot remember. i am so bad about remembering books. LITERALLY REMEMBERED ONE AS I'M WRITING THIS POST. anyway i am attempting to compile a list of books that i've read this year so that i can reference it without having to forget everything. wish me luck. i have fifteen titles on there right now but i can't shake the feeling there's something i'm forgetting

[darlingdaisyfarm]

what once was | Stanford Pines x reader

tags: sfw, memory loss, established relationship

a/n: this one was hard to write, not gonna lie. i even cried. thank u anon for this wonderful idea! Ford has always been such a complex character to write, but I tried to show his love, pain and his determination.

thank you for reading, i hope this breaks you as much as it broke me to write :,,,,,)

Stanley version

you wake up to the familiar weight of his hand resting gently on your arm, it’s warm and it brings a sense of. . . some kind of safety. as if you’ve felt it before, but. . . at the same time no. no, you don’t know why it’s so comforting.

you blink, trying to focus, but your head hurts like you’ve been hit by a truck. you rub your temples, wondering why it feels like your brain’s been shredded into pieces that won’t stick together.

your vision is blurry at first, but your gaze shifts to the man beside you. dark circles under his worried eyes that still got some hope in them.

Ford hasn’t gotten more than an hour of sleep in weeks.

“hey. hey, sweetheart. you’re okay.”

you analyse his face, feeling a slight sense of panic inside. “wait, who— who are you?”

Ford’s face drops, not in shock, but in something far more painful. you’ve asked him this question before. you’ve asked it every single morning since the accident. and every morning, the answer is the same.

“it’s. . . it’s me, darling. Ford. your husband.”

your husband, he names himself. . . you wish you could make sense of the emotions in your chest right now, but you can’t, because you don’t understand, you can’t remember, nothing’s connecting. nothing makes sense and everything feels so wrong.

Ford cant stand the silence. “y-you don’t remember, do you?” please just tell him you do—

“no. . .”

his lips press together and he looks down, but he’s not mad, not angry. no, Ford’s never angry, not at you.

“i— i’m sorry,” you mumble with guilt in ur voice. “i really don’t remember, i’m sorry.”

Ford shakes his head, running a hand through his hair, trying to control the storm of emotions inside of him. he’s trying so damn hard to stay calm and not burst into tears right in front of you. “don’t— don’t apologize, it’s not your fault. none of this is your fault.”

you continue to look around, trying to find at least one thing in the room which could be familiar to you.

“w-we’ve been through this a thousand times, love,” Ford explains and looks away, focusing on the empty space in front of him. "i know this isn’t easy for you. for us. but i’m not going anywhere, we’ll figure this out. i’ll— i’ll fix it. i’ll find a way to bring your memories back. i promise."

“how long?” you ask. “how long have we been. . . married?” it’s so weird to even pronounce the last word.

“seven years, my love.”

***

Ford holds it together for you. he always does.

every morning, he wakes up before you. sits at the edge of the bed, rubs the sleep from his eyes and prepares to tell you who he is.

who you are.

he’s a scientist, logic is his shield and his weapon. he throws himself into his work, searching for something that could help.

he’s got sketches pinned to the walls, equations scattered across the desk. an entire board dedicated to explore how human’s psyche and mind works.

he's been up countless nights, fiddling with wires and strange gadgets, all while researching any possible way to bring you back to him. every book, every article, every experiment. even though he’s exhausted, theres still light in his eyes that never fades, a fire in him too. a stubborn determination to make things right, no matter what.

you catch him once, sitting at that desk with head in his hands, probably tired as fuck.

“hey. . .” you forgot his name again, damn.

Ford’s head snaps up immediately when he hears you because he hopes you came to tell him “honey, i remembered! i remembered we are married!”. you see the redness in his eyes, from tears or lack of sleep, youre not sure. he scrubs a hand across his face, trying to pull himself together.

Ford looks at you, waiting you to continue, waiting to hear these cherished magical words. but you stand here all silent and confused.

“you should be asleep, honey,” he finally tells you, realising you won’t continue.

“so should you,” you say softly, stepping closer.

when you reach out to touch his arm, he shudders.

“i can’t, i can’t lose you. not like this. i need to work.”

***

but there’s always another plan. the one he doesn’t tell you about.

Bill.

and Ford is not proud of it.

he knows it’s a dangerous path, one that’s led him to dark places he never wanted to go. but the temptation is too strong. the idea of reaching out, of making that deal to bring your memories back. . . if only for a moment, if only for a chance to see you smile at him like you once did. Ford has considered it, weighed the consequences, overthought it.

but each time, he’s pulled himself back. he can’t go down that road again. he won’t.

still, this idea stays in his mind. because every hour of research, every failed experiment, every sleepless night feeds that urge, a feeling that maybe the price will be worth it. just shake his hand and—

but he’s trying so hard to fight it because he can’t bring himself to make that choice, no matter how broken he feels inside. he won’t drag himself into that nightmare again, no matter how much his soul hurts, no matter how badly he wants to see you smile at him.

right now, he just wants to hold you, to keep you close. to be the one you turn to. he doesn’t need a deal with Bill. he needs you. he needs you to remember him the way he remembers you.

***

another morning.

you’re lying there, your head pressed softly against the pillow, still struggling to make sense of everything, who you are, who he is, what this is, you feel a mix of confusion and fear.

his hand is resting gently on yours, as always, his fingers caressing your skin with a tenderness that feels. . . familiar again, but so far away. he’s looking at you, waiting. just waiting. sitting beside you, thinking, trying to come up with more ideas.

you flip through a page of his journal and one of his drawings seems funny to you, you smile as you point at it, asking, “hey, Ford, so what is that thing?”

Ford.

he looks at you in shock. he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak as if the wrong word might shatter this fragile moment he’s been waiting so long to happen.

his heart pounds in his chest.

“Ford. . .?” you ask again, worried why he got so silent. unsure if you should’ve said anything at all.

again, you say it, his fucking name, and it shatters him. because it’s not just the name. it’s that you remembered it. that piece of him, the one he’s been clinging to with everything he’s got, has finally stuck in your mind.

his eyes shimmer for the first time in all these months. his gaze falls to your lips, memorising the shape of the sound you just made.

“did— did you— did you just say my name?”

you nod slowly, unsure if you’ve done something wrong.

but you did exactly what he’s been waiting for, praying for.

his hands grip at his face, trying to control the flood of tears that he can’t hold back any longer

“you— say it again. please. say it again.”

you’re confused at the urgency in his voice, but still do as he asks you. “Ford. your name is Ford.”

his name. his name. from your lips, it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever heard.

Ford’s hand comes up, trembling, to cup your cheek. he touches you like you’re something so delicate and the sight of him hurts. hurts because you don’t remember what it feels like to be in his arms, what it felt like when he used to kiss your forehead goodnight, when he used to make you laugh until you couldn’t breathe.

“oh god, my love—” he cant continue because he simply starts crying. Ford presses a hand over his mouth, as if he could stop it, but he can’t. he can’t. “you— you remembered. oh, darling, you—” he just shakes his head, unable to speak as he gasps for air between sobs.

you stare at him, all lost. “Ford, are you— are you okay?” no, he’s not, he’s damn not, because he spent every waking moment trying to fix what’s been broken, for you.

Ford smiles through his tears, not even bothering to wipe them away. “no— yes. i-i’m fine, i just—” another sob cuts him off and he laughs bitterly through it. “god, you don’t. . . you don’t know what this means. you don’t—”

it’s not the anger, not the frustration that has been building up for weeks. it’s relief. it’s all the grief he’s been carrying.

Ford leans forward, reaching out for your hands, but he hesitates, because he’s scared you might pull away. because too much emotions which Ford used to hide. but you don’t and he grips them tightly, clutching them, wide smile never leaving his face.

“it’s you,” he whispers. “it’s you. you’re still in there. i knew it. i knew it.”

his forehead drops to your knuckles, his glasses slipping, tears falling down. “i was so scared, my love,” he admits through sobs. “so scared i’d lost you forever. that i’d never hear you say my name again. that—”

he can’t finish the thought, can’t even say it aloud. it’s too much, too cruel.

“Ford, i—“

he looks up at you and his cheeks are streaked with tears, eyes red, swollen and wide with disbelief and love. so much love it hurts.

“you d-don’t have to remember everything,” he whispers, his voice trembling but so, so tender and soft. “you don’t. i’ll wait. i’ll wait as long as it takes. but this. . . this is enough for me. hearing you say my name, it’s enough, darling.”

you don’t know why, but his words make you want to cry, too.

you can’t find the words to comfort him. how do you comfort him when he’s the one who’s been holding it all together, for you, all this time?

“it’s okay. it’s okay, Ford.”

the words feel too small, but they’re all you can offer, as your hand brushes against his cheek.

and Ford, your lovely Ford, your husband, he melts into your touch, like an affectionate puppy. he doesn’t try to hide it. he doesn’t try to be strong.

“i’ve been trying so hard. . .” Ford remembers every sleepless night, every failure, every moment when he thought he might lose you forever.

he pulls you closer, burying his face in the crook of your neck, holding you. you hold him back, just as tight.

“thank you,” Ford whispers into your skin. “thank you for remembering me, darling, for remembering us.”

you don’t know how much you’ve given him, not yet. but you will understand it later, much later. when you’ll remember him again, completely, soon.

but for now, you just hug him back, feeling how his body shakes, how he clings to you and you promise him you’ll remember.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, “i’ve always loved you, sweetheart. i just— just needed you to remember that.”

he’s not asking you to remember everything, to recall every detail, every moment. no. he just needs to know that you still remember him.

and you do.

you do.

[sebastianswallows]

The English Client — Six

— PAIRING: Tom Riddle x F!Reader

— SYNOPSIS: The year is 1952. Tom is working for Borgin and Burkes. He is sent to Rome to acquire three ancient books of magic by any means necessary. One in particular proves challenging to reach, and the only path forward is through a pretty, young bookseller. A foreigner like him, she lives alone, obsessed with her work... until Tom comes into her life.

— WARNINGS: none, it's just cute

— WORDCOUNT: 3.2k

I

One enchanting benefit of Tom entering her life, even if it was to be temporary, was to remind her that somewhere out there, outside the walls of her profession, the world went on. She was jealous for a moment that others got to travel, away from their boss and family. Just be a new person in new places, a stranger in the crowd. But it also filled her with some optimism to know that there were other people of her age invested in rare books, not just venerable aristocrats or obsessives like dear Fred.

And it, most shamefully of all, made her look up with a smile whenever the bell to her shop chimed. It wasn’t always Tom — but today, it was.

It was the third time he had come, the second since they put Torchia’s infamous work on display, and last time he hadn’t even mentioned it. She was so relieved… But that wasn’t the only reason she was smiling.

“Welcome back,” she grinned, getting up smoothly to greet him. “Happy with The Lost Word?”

“My employer is happy. Which means, I am happy,” said Tom with a rigid curling of his lips.

“Oh. Is he searching for the Philosopher’s stone?” she teased.

“Certainly hope not. Merlin forbid that he should live forever...”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his silly wording. Tom had a way of being funny that made it look like he wasn’t even trying…

He strolled through the shop as surely as if he owned the place, but his eyes now scarcely strayed to any of the books. They were mostly fixed on her.

“So, how can I help you today?”

“Oh, in many ways,” he purred, coming close enough to lay on her desk a sheet of paper, right beside her hip.

His closeness made her tremble, left her breathless, chilled her hands and warmed her face quite shamefully. She picked the paper up and her easy smile tensed. It was a list.

“These are quite the names,” she said.

“Do you have them?” asked Tom silkily.

“We do. Wait here.”

“No. I’ll come and help you.”

The stack piled high on her desk. They were as heavy as they were expensive. She looked at Tom from the corner of her eye as he checked his list against what she had brought with him, his gaze impassive and cool.

“Are you sure you can afford these, Mr. Riddle?”

“Please, call me Tom,” he smiled.

She smiled back but waited for him to answer. Her pleasure at seeing him had given way to business.

“How much?” he asked.

“For all of them? I’d estimate seven million lire.”

“So around ten thousand pounds…”

“At least.”

“I could send a telegram to my employer, but I doubt he would be willing to part with such a sum.”

She nodded and without a word began to pick the books up to return them to their shelves.

“Unless,” he quickly added, his susurrous voice lingering around her, “you would be interested in a trade.”

She paused. He looked more seductive than he had any right to be, bartering for books with his eyes so dark and his smile childishly expectant.

“W-what kind of trade?”

“Back at my hotel room, I have a number of manuscripts I acquired in Paris. Beautifully illuminated, tightly bound, and with the most tantalising marginalia. I’m sure at least some of them would catch your eye.”

“Would your employer not mind their absence?”

“Not as much as he would mind these,” he said. “I doubt he’d even notice. We don’t appreciate the French that much in England, you know.”

She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself quietly.

“Would you consider it?” Tom asked.

She did. She shifted her weight from one foot to the other as she thought about it. This is a bad idea…

“Let me help you,” he offered again, picking up half of the books behind her.

She thought about it as she followed him, her eyes scanning that taut back, those thighs that arched beneath his trousers smoothly with each step. She nearly moaned looking at him. Did he dress so tartly just to tease her?

“Not too much, is it?” he asked, casting an easy smile over his shoulder.

“What?”

“Your books. You’re not carrying too many?”

“Oh, not at all,” she giggled, “I’m used to it.”

She felt a little guilty, undressing him with her eyes like that… But then it was her turn to feel naked as she climbed the ladder once again to put the books back one by one. Tom waited at the bottom, his hands on either side of the ladder and his dark eyes trailing up. She smiled to herself — secretly, and sadly. Nothing could ever come of it.

“I’m afraid I have to refuse you, Mr. Riddle,” she said once she was back down before him.

“It’s Tom,” he frowned. “And why?”

“It would be wise not to trade books in such a place.”

“What sort of place would that be?”

“Private.”

Tom nodded and, to her relief, smiled.

“I see. A clever move.”

She breathed a grateful sigh.

“How about a public place, then?” he asked.

“W-what do you mean?”

“Go out with me.”

Her lips parted but not a sound came through. Tom took advantage of it to continue.

“Would you have dinner with me tonight? I know a very nice restaurant…”

“Oh, well, erm, you can just bring the books here…”

“I could. But what would be the fun in that?” he said with a half-smile.

He looked at her as hopeful and expectant as a little boy, and in turn, brought out the careless little girl in her. It had been so long since she’d gone out with someone on a real date… Longer still since she enjoyed it.

“Alright,” she chuckled. “Alright. I finish at six. Shall we meet in front of the Fontana Trevi?”

“Sounds wonderful,” he said, his head held high in something like victory. “I will be there.” He bent and kissed the soft and dusty back of her hand, gaze meeting hers for one long moment.

What did I just get myself into?

II

Compared to the odium of charming Burke’s rich elderly clients, this was as fresh as a wintery morning and twice as bright. The sight of Rome at night took away whatever other bitterness Tom harboured.

He hadn’t been charmed by the city when he first arrived, but he got fonder of it the longer he stayed. The wide-open piazzas on which intimately narrow streets converged like the threads of a spider’s web, the hard white buildings, the lazy cafés, the ruins… They had the charm of eternity about them that always fascinated Tom.

So he stood before the Trevi fountain with a real smile on his face, a relaxation of the features he didn’t often get to have. In his leather messenger bag were several muggle books, perfectly ordinary, but enchanted to look like ancient tomes he’d seen during his studies. The transfiguration would not wear off for another two months.

He heard the sharp patter of heels he knew so well by now and turned to see her walking straight toward him. Right on time… Tom secured the strap of the bag around his shoulder and greeted her with a warm smile.

“Hello.”

“Hello again,” she murmured shyly, stopping before him.

“Did you change clothes? You look so different outside of that place…” he asked, allowing his gaze to trail transparently down her figure.

“Oh no,” she chuckled, “it’s much too far.”

Tom smirked. He knew that too.

“Well, you look lovely. Shall we go? The restaurant is this way.”

It was recommended by a concierge at the Gallienus as a ‘solid’ place to eat. It was quite central with a view over the Tiber and was frothing full of young and noisy people when they arrived. Tom felt relieved he had a reservation, but when he turned to her, his heart fell. He’d seen that look before on Abraxas or Rosier whenever they saw him do something decidedly middle-class and muggle.

“You don’t approve.”

“It’s not that! It’s… a nice place,” she said timidly.

“But?”

“It’s a bit of a cellar, you know?”

“I… don’t, actually.”

“It’s where men go to meet… women,” she whispered.

Tom slowly understood. He’d have to choke the life out of that concierge and find somewhere to hide the body…

“I’m… sorry. We can just call this off. I —”

“No,” she said quickly, her hand closing on his elbow in a small and warm embrace. “No, no, really, we can still go somewhere… I know a good place. A really good place. You want me to take you?”

“Please do.”

They took a tram to Via del Corso, and passed through a long and narrow street filled with little places — record stores, wineries, antique shops — until they reached the end of it. There, on the corner, was Othelo’s. He wondered if it was the same place Clement had talked about…

They took a table outside, beneath wide umbrellas, far from the entrance. Nobody would hear them, nobody would look at them.

“You’ll love it here,” she grinned as she settled down and took the menu. “Their seafood is the best in town.”

“Is that what you’ll have?”

“I think so,” she hummed happily. “Maybe some spaghetti with frutti di mare.”

“I’m more drawn to this, I think. Nero di seppia…”

“I’d recommend against it,” she chuckled.

“Why? Is it not good?”

“Oh no, it’s very tasty…”

“Then I’ll have it.”

She grinned in a deliciously impish way.

Although her gaze slid to his bag where the square shape of hefty volumes bulged, she made no mention of them. He found himself nervous for the first time, and burdened with the instinct to impress — a natural and manly sentiment, but no less bothersome.

She took the liberty of ordering a bottle of wine to go with their meal.

“A whole bottle?”

“It’s alright. What we don’t drink, we can take home,” she said, without specifying whose home that would be.

They drank it, and after a few glasses, Tom found himself confessing things that would have made him cast Oscausi on his own mouth.

“And I loathe that… putrid bundle of bile, bald-headed bastard, with his greasy eyebrows and wart-crusted mouth.”

“Oh, Tom,” she sighed sympathetically.

“I swear on my grandfather’s ring,” he hissed, caressing the Horcrux with his thumb, “one day I’m going to gouge out his eyeballs, and piss in his skull.”

“I know, I know…”

“Everyone thought I was mad to go to work for him — and that syphilitic stoat, Borgin. I could’ve had a top position at the Ministry, I could have —”

“So why work there?” she asked, lips stained red around the edges from the Arrabiata sauce. Her elbows were braced upon the table, her body drawn toward him.

“Because of what it allows me to find,” said Tom. “The oldest, most rare and forgotten relics most people couldn’t dream of seeing, let alone touch.”

“I understand…”

“Do you?” Tom smiled, reaching forward with a napkin to wipe the corners of her mouth.

She blushed and mumbled a thank you before leaning back into her seat.

“Do you feel the same?” Tom asked.

“W-what?”

“About your employer.”

“Oh! Well, I…”

Tom smiled and listened, feeling genuinely curious.

“The Baron is a different sort of person from your Mr. Burke. In fact, I don’t think he’s like anyone you’ve ever met. He isn’t like anyone I’ve ever met either. But…”

“Yes?”

“I suppose I don’t know how I feel,” she laughed skittishly, her arms coming up to wrap around her. “I respect him, but I fear him too.”

“Why is that?” asked Tom, leaning back and sipping his wine. “Has he threatened you?”

“No,” she said quickly, “he’s quite harmless, in a way…”

Tom cocked a brow. It was certainly the oddest way he’d heard anyone be described.

“But it’s just that…”

“Yes?”

“You’ll think me insane,” she laughed.

“Never.”

She leaned forward, her eyes darting around as if the very shadows could have ears, and then she fixed her gaze on him with utter seriousness.

“I think he might be a wizard,” she whispered.

Tom tried hard not to laugh. “No…”

“He’s obsessed with magic and weird rituals and such…”

It wasn’t that Tom didn’t believe her, but, well, he didn’t believe her. It would’ve been a convenient explanation for why the shop was charmed, but no real wizard would operate that openly in muggle society, even in Italy. Besides, if this Baron were a wizard, Burke would certainly have known — wouldn’t he?

“Really, Tom. He’s involved in all sorts of weirdness. Him and all of his crusty old friends…”

Tom nodded as he listened. “So you’re afraid he’ll turn you into a toad if you resign, is that it?”

“Not funny! And… maybe?”

He laughed, and leaned forward in an utterly uncharacteristic show of consolation to place his hand upon her own.

“He won’t curse you,” he promised her. “He’s just a weird old man with more money than sense. Just like the rest of them.”

She smiled back weakly at first, but her smile grew as his hand chilled and calmed her own.

“Why don’t we look at your books, Tom? I’ve been yearning to all evening.”

“Have you?” he winked. “Alright, as soon as they take the plates away.”

And once their table was cleared, he presented them to her with all the reverence befitting the venerable tomes they were masquerading as. To his relief, she did not leaf too much through them or read long lines of text. She was satisfied by checking the binding and the sound of the pages between her fingers.

“Tom… These must fetch quite a price.”

He smirked.

“But…”

His smile died. “But what?”

“I don’t think I can authorise their sale. You should probably speak to the Baron before we can accept them, and then discuss the trade for the other books you wanted.”

Tom leaned back in a contemplative manner, but inside his blood was singing. He brushed a black lock away from his forehead, fingers threading through his hair, and watched as her eyes followed the movement. I have you now, he thought, you and your obstinate Baron.

“Are you quite certain? After all, your expertise is —”

“I’m certain.”

“Alright, alright. Well,” he sighed, “I suppose if I have to…”

III

They packed up the books rather quickly after she finished reviewing them, just in case they spilt wine on them, and soon they were safely back in Tom’s messenger bag.

As they walked back together to the main street, he offered to walk her home.

“Oh, no,” she laughed, “I know the way, really.”

“Come on, it’s —” he checked his watch, “half past ten. What sort of gentleman would I be to let you walk the streets alone at night?”

He only had to flash a smile at her in that practised way for her to yield.

The ride on the tram was pleasantly cool, the evening breeze caressing their cheeks, playing in their hair, rustling the edges of their shirts. It cleared away the wisps of wine still swirling through their heads.

Tom kept a soft and harmless smile throughout the ride, but he let his eyes linger quite openly. He wanted her to feel desired, wanted her to be seen in a way that was more appreciative, more personal, than whatever crass wolf-whistling and leering she was usually subjected to in Rome.

Their hands rested side by side on the worn seats, not touching except when the jostling on the tracks swayed them briefly together. He could see her lips fight back a smile whenever it happened.

The walk to her building was slow, and they barely spoke, except to arrange for his meeting with her employer. Tom made passing note of the information, but his attention was mostly fixed on her. She seemed less happy the closer they got to her street, even though he thought his company might be enough of a tonic. It usually was for women…

He made a point to look around, pretending to see it all for the first time. She only looked ahead, or at the ground.

“I’ll have to call him in advance, of course. He has an unpredictable schedule.”

“Of course,” said Tom.

“I’ll speak with his secretary… She will know when he’s available.”

“Hmm.”

“Will you speak to Mr. Burke in the meanwhile?”

“Hmm? Oh, I don’t think so. He entrusts me with everything.”

“That must be nice,” she said with a faint smile.

“It’s not because he trusts me,” said Tom. “He’s just not clever enough to make such decisions. Only clever enough to realise it.”

“Even better,” she laughed. “A dumb employer might be a blessing.”

“You would think so,” he scoffed. “But it’s a burden. Any sort of boss is a burden.”

The scenery was no more pleasant than the last time he’d followed her home, but now Tom found his steps easing as he walked, his shoulders falling back, body disarmed. It was… nice to talk to someone so openly. He never would have imagined he needed it.

“Well, this is it,” she said as they stopped in front of her building. She wasn’t looking at him anymore, her girlish joy forgotten. “Not all that glamorous, I know.”

“Compared to my hotel, it’s palatial.”

She chuckled. “So I suppose by now you’ve seen everything Rome has to offer, good and bad.”

“Oh, I don’t think I’ve seen everything yet,” said Tom with a subtle smirk.

She looked into his eyes and understood enough to blush. He held her gaze, ready for the slightest opening, anything she was willing to give him.

“Erm, do you know your way back?”

His eyes narrowed. She wasn’t going to invite him upstairs? But he’d been so good to her… And he was certain she was attracted to him. The whole reason why he’d asked her on a date and walked her to her squalid home was to seduce her. And she wasn’t even interested?!

“Yes, I… think I’ll be alright.”

“Good, well… Good. So, erm, good night,” she smiled. “Thank you for walking me home. And for dinner.”

“The pleasure was all mine,” said Tom, taking her hand and bending for a kiss.

“Y-yes. Good night,” she said, again. “We’ll speak again tomorrow.”

“Tomorrow,” he nodded.

She cast him a parting glance before entering her building, the door closing with a wicked scratch of rust behind her. Tom waited until she was out of sight to sigh. So, no seducing her to make the whole process easier, no getting her on his side… He hadn’t dealt with bookish girls since Hogwarts, and he’d forgotten what a handful they were. She really was going to do everything by the rules.

IV

When he finally arrived back at his hotel and started to get ready for bed, he realised why she’d laughed at his choice of dinner. He parted his lips in a grimace and stared at himself in the mirror, an angry frown and shameful blush crawling on his face. He looked halfway between horrid and hilarious. His teeth were stained black as if he’d just crawled out of a swamp. The nero di seppia. The squid ink from his spaghetti had made his teeth black.

[acourtofthought]

Have you noticed how much page time SJM dedicates to Helion in Silver Flames? Maybe he'll be getting a book but as it stands, she's never strongly hinted at him having one the way she has for other characters.

Yet SJM really hit the Rhys / Helion friendship hard in Nessian's book which is a bit strange since Rhys doesn't share a POV but through that friendship, we learn quite a bit about Helion and his powers.

I think SJM is using Helion as a way to relay information to us about Lucien.

Lucien is not really friends with the IC at this point. He occasionally works for them and his mate is living there but since he and Elain are at odds for the time being, he doesn't have many reasons to be on page in a Nessian book. But granting Helion page time means that everything we learn about him, can be passed on to the future of Lucien, being his son and Heir to Day.

Rhys is having Helion teach him about truly impenetrable shields / Feyre had muttered when Cassian asked about the ironclad defenses, so strong they even masked her scent. / “It’s all part of the same shield. Helion wasn’t joking about it being impenetrable.”

I wonder if Lucien could learn to use a shield for protection while facing off with an enemy or whether he could use one in a situation where he needs to remain hidden and would have to mask his scent.

But the male had one thousand libraries at his disposal, and had put them all to good use for the treaty.

Lucien will also have access to these libraries.

He’d wanted to enter the dark city in a golden chariot led by four snow-white horses with manes of golden fire,

What?! Tell me how there's not been fanart of Elucien on these horses! 😍

The winged horses were rare—so rare that it was said Helion’s seven breeding pairs of flying horses were the only ones left. Lore held that there had once been far more of them before recorded history, and that most had just vanished, as if they’d been devoured by the sky itself. Their population had dwindled further in the last thousand years, for reasons no one could explain. Helion’s most beloved pair—this black stallion, Meallan, and his mate—hadn’t produced offspring in three hundred years, and that last foal hadn’t made it out of weaning before he’d succumbed to an illness no healer could remedy. According to legend, the pegasuses had come from the island the Prison sat upon—had once fed in fair meadows that had long given way to moss and mist. Perhaps that was part of the decline: their homeland had vanished, and whatever had sustained them there was no longer.

Not only is Lucien going to have access to the Pegasus but the fact that they come from the land where the Prison is on provides a connection to this area for Elucien. I could also see Elain being the person to discover what brought about the decline of the food they fed on (which I'm thinking is some sort of plant) as well as helping to regrow it.

“She’s here?” Helion practically shimmered with golden light.

I can't wait for Lucien to glow from happiness! ☀️

Helion had spoken to and briefly touched the hands of the two Autumn Court soldiers chained in that room, kept alive and fed by Rhys’s magic. Helion’s face had tensed when he’d touched their hands—and he’d then murmured that he’d seen enough. I can feel spells—like threads. Ones that can enchant feel like bindings around an individual. I sensed none of that.”

Lucien should have this same ability, to simply touch the hands of someone and feel a spell. It's a total headcannon at this point but I wonder if he'll sense some sort of spell or something on Elain the first time they touch hands (oooh, this brings to mind the Pride & Prejudice scene where he touches her hand while helping her into the carriage and is affected by it). SJM had pinned an image of sleeping beauty before and in ACOWAR, Feyre tells us the gates to Elain's mind are "sleeping buds". Imagine if Lucien senses something that's been holding Elain back from "waking" and revealing her full potential, something involving her need for light (aka Spring or Day).

Nesta faced Helion again, taking in that spiked golden crown and the draped white robe

Lucien wearing this outfit is all my current fantasies.

“Doesn’t it rake its cold claws down your senses?” Helion asked. Helion shuddered, and Nesta threw the cloth over the Mask. As if the cloth somehow blinded it to their presence. “Perhaps an ancestor of mine once used it, and the warning of its cost is imprinted upon my blood.” Helion shook out a breath. “All right, not-Lady Nesta. Allow me to show you some warding tricks even clever Rhysand doesn’t know.”

It's possible that both Lucien and Elain now have a connection to the Mask (her because she's Made and him because of his relation to Helion). I had another post talking about the possibility of Lucien coming up with some sort of scheme that might at first look like he's gone rogue only to show off some Rhysand level clever plot, I wonder if it could involve the Mask. Also, the excerpt provides us with the knowledge that Lucien could too have the ability to ward things.

“I would like to remove myself from the Mask’s odious presence, and perhaps enjoy your palace, Rhysand. It’s been a long while since I was in a place of such quiet. If you’ll allow it, I’ll stay here for an hour or two.” “Something bothering you at home?” Rhys inquired, falling into step beside the High Lord.

This is interesting because it's setting up a future book for some Day Court drama which is a court Lucien will soon be part of.

I had Helion show me how to apply a shield like the one I had around Feyre to the Prison itself.” “You guessed this would happen?”. “Feyre and I were concerned that Beron would try to free the inmates to use in a conflict—just as we used the Bone Carver in the war. Give me tonight, and I’ll get the shield untangled and open for you tomorrow.” “It takes that long to undo a shield?” “It’s a combination of magic and spell work, so yes.

I think there's a few ideas floating around about Elain and the Prison considering three sisters / three mountains. What I've come up with is the possibility of Koschei's soul being hidden there so this could tell us need to know information on Elucien gaining access into it.

“No, it’s a Symphonia, a rare device from Helion’s court. It can trap music within itself, and play it back for you. It was originally invented to help compose music, but it never caught on, for some reason.”

I'm not sure this really gives us much in terms of future plot but it tells us that Day Court has cool stuff 😂

Perhaps Amren was working on some way to undo the bargain—if anyone could think of a way, it would be her. Or Helion, he supposed.

To me, this could suggest one of a few things. Cassian mentions the following in regards to bargains:

And if the bargain was broken … the magic could exact terrible vengeance.

We know Briallyn had made a bargain with Koschei however she is no longer a threat but there has been concerns over Beron working with Koschei:

do not believe your High Lord would wish me to go to other territories and ask them to help with Briallyn and Koschei. To help them remember that all it might take to secure Briallyn’s alliance would be to hand over a certain Archeron sister. Don’t be stupid enough to believe my father hasn’t thought of that, too.”

“Then you would certainly have a war on your hands. My father would go straight to Briallyn—and Koschei, I suppose—and then go to the other discontent territories, and you would be wiped off the proverbial map. Perhaps literally, since the Night Court would be divvied up between the other territories if Rhysand and Feyre die without an heir.”

“So they are trying to find this Dread Trove in order to track down the Cauldron for Briallyn, and likely free Koschei in the process. And launch a war, with Beron as her ally, that would grant them whatever territories they wish. Or give some to Koschei, depending on what bargain he strikes with Briallyn—probably one to his advantage.”

So there could be a chance that Beron makes a bargain with Koschei, maybe even one involving delivering Elain to him (his "sons" mate") who has ties to the Night Court. Having her = leverage over the NC who is aware of where the Cauldron is and Lucien would try to find a way to undo that bargain.

It could also be something that involves the bargain Elain's father made:

He should have asked someone before coming here how much time remained before Vassa would be forced to return to the continent—to the sorcerer-lord at a remote lake who held her leash, and had allowed her to leave only temporarily, as part of a bargain Feyre’s father had struck.

I don't think Lucien can free Vassa from her actual curse because we're told it doesn't seem to be a spell but there's a chance he could extend the time of Vassa's temporary freedom by breaking the bargain Papa Archeron made.

“I told you: their castle is too heavily warded, and full of magical traps that would trip up even Helion. (👀 tell me this isn't hinting at Lucien ending up sneaking in to the Queens castle on the continent in an Elucien book?)

If SJM used Helion as a tool to deliver information to us about Lucien, it's a pretty clever way of doing so. Looking back over everything has made me even more excited for what we might see in his story!

[ragingbookdragon]

All I Wanna Be Is Somebody To You

A Jason Todd x Reader One-Shot

Word Count: 2.6K Warnings: None

Author's Note: For the one anon who wanted a nervous reader! I hope I did this justice for you, darling! Enjoy! -Thorne

**********************************************************************

She didn’t hate talking. Not really. But the idea of holding conversations with people she didn’t know sent her heart fluttering and her throat tightening until it was impossible to breathe. More often than not, she found herself apologizing a lot for the stuttering or the repeating of things she said. Most people gave her odd looks, told her to stop apologizing so much (like that ever helped anyone), or laughed and told her she was cute—which was nice until she realized they meant in a childish sort of way rather than an endearing one.

But it wasn’t always like that. According to her parents, there’d been a time when she couldn’t stop talking. Always had something to say and had somebody to tell. Something changed during her years, she knew when, even if she didn’t want to admit it to herself or her family when they asked what happened to their outgoing and talkative daughter. Too many times she’d heard, “You know no one cares about X, right?” or “Oh my God, will you shut up?” and every time she heard it from a friend it dug into her a little deeper, made her shut her mouth tighter, and tore her heart much harsher.

And because she chose to be the silent type instead of the outgoing one, people assumed her arrogant and cold, distant and rude, and she found herself spending most of middle school and high school by herself. She was glad when graduation came, and while she’d dreaded giving her valedictorian speech, she did manage to get through it without too much trouble. It did feel like her one triumph against everyone who ignored her throughout school.

College freed her. Allowed her to make a flexible schedule, take smaller classes, and be solitary when she wanted. She’d refused a dorm room on the campus, living only fifteen minutes from Gotham University, instead choosing to commute daily and she liked it a lot more than having roommates in a four-bedroom apartment on the school grounds.

When she wasn’t in class, she stayed home a lot. It came with being a homebody, but when she did go out into the great big city, she liked to shop. Little antique shops or bookstores. She went to bookstores more than she did school. There was something so wonderful about finding a book in the shop and sitting down at a café and reading quietly. Which is how she met him, and for the life of her she couldn’t figure out why he wanted anything to do with her. She was quiet and shy, and he was open and flirty. They obviously didn’t match in any way, shape, or form. At least, that’s what she thought.

***

She drew her gaze along the wall of books before her, chewing on the inside of her cheek as she searched for the novel. It’d been a long time since she’d read The Count of Monte Cristo, a copy of her father’s that he’d had when she was just a child. Something had reminded her of it the other day and all she could think about was getting her own so she could annotate in the margins.

As she came across it, she started reaching when someone got to it first, one finger pulling it out by its spine before taking it into their hand. She visibly deflated with a soft sigh as it was the last copy and hung her head in defeat.

“I’m sorry, were you wanting this too?” Her head cocked up and she gazed at the young man before her. He smiled and she felt like she’d been shot in the chest at how dazzling it was. “Here, you can have it.”

Swallowing thickly, she shook her head, “You got it first.” Nodding, she added, “It’s yours.”

He cocked a brow at that. “Well, from the devastated look on your face, doll, you want it to be yours.”

Her cheeks warmed at that, and she felt nervous where she stood, resisting the urge to fidget under his scrutiny. “N-no it’s okay.” She said. “You take it.”

“Oh no you don’t. That’s not how this works.” He chuckled and took her hands, pressing the book into them, then he winked at her. “The doll deserves to have her book.”

If there had ever been a time in which she wanted to explode from embarrassment, it was then, and before she knew it, she shoved the book back into his arms and so hard that it must’ve knocked the wind out of him because he gasped. She spun around and took off down the aisle and out the front doors as fast as she could, wanting nothing more than to disappear in the crowded streets. That or sink into the ground. Maybe next week she’d come back and get the book. Hopefully, he wouldn’t be there again.

***

Then again, her hopes were always wrong, and she picked up the copy of The Divine Comedy, flipping it open to read the first page.

“I see you’re a fan of the classics, aren’t you, doll?”

She snapped the book shut when she heard his voice and looked over at him. Something inside annoyed her at the cocky smirk he wore, much more was the arm he had resting on the top of the bookshelf as he gazed at her.

“You know, you left a nice bruise on me the other week.” He quipped, shifting his weight to cross his ankles. “You’re pretty strong.”

“Thank you,” she muttered, turning to look back at the book. “Sorry I hit you…it was an accident.”

“Well, I can accept your apology if you tell me your name.”

“Why?” she questioned quietly, wiggling her toes.

“Because I wanna put a name to such a cute face. Why else?” he flirted, and she scowled at the book cover. “Oh, that’s an even more adorable face.”

“Quit doing that!” she hissed. “It’s not funny!”

He chuckled. “Oh contraire, it’s actually hilarious.” He took a step towards her. “I’m Jason, by the way.”

Her eyes darted to the outstretched hand, and she stared at it for a split second before softly shaking it. “(Y/N).” she murmured.

Before she could pull her hand back, he raised it and pressed his lips to her knuckles. “Enchanté ma chérie,” he professed, breath hot against her skin and just like before, she was so absolutely flustered she was yanking her hand back and poor Jason’s grip slipped, and he whacked himself in the face with his own hand.

“Nice to meet you!” (Y/N) yelped and scurried off down the aisle and to the register where she purchased her book in record time. Third time was the charm and she prayed that he wouldn’t be there again.

***

And whoever lived upstairs must’ve really had it out for her because she flipped the page in her One Thousand and One Arabian Nights and heard an exaggerated cough. Looking up through her eyelashes, she saw Jason standing there with a grin on his face. “Hello (Y/N),” he purred, and she immediately felt her cheeks become hot.

“Hi Jason,” she muttered, gazing at her book, listening to the chair screech as he sat down across from her.

“How are you doing today?” he asked, setting down his own copy of Arabian Nights.

(Y/N) cleared her throat, finding it harder to focus on the book over the smell of his woody and oriental cologne. She thought she smelled a twinge of tobacco with it. “I’m fine.” Her eyes found his teal ones for a moment. “And you?”

He smiled, making her heart pick up a beat. “Doing pretty good.” He winked. “I got to see you again. Though I’m hoping I don’t get hit again. Either by a book or my own fist.”

“Sorry…” she cringed, sinking down in her seat. “That was an accident.”

Jason shrugged and propped his elbows on the table, placing his chin on his fingers. “Don’t worry about it. Say, do you like coffee?”

“I do,” she murmured.

“Great, want anything from the café?” he asked, nodding at the board and she looked over at it.

“I guess I could order a latte,” she replied more to herself than him, starting to pull her wallet out.

“Nah, I got it.” Jason said, standing from his seat.

(Y/N) blinked. “Wait, what?”

“I said I got it.” He quipped and she jumped from her seat to stop him, but caught the leg of her chair, and she flailed, stumbling right into Jason. They went tumbling to the floor and she landed atop him. For a minute they were both stunned silent as the people in the store looked at them and he smirked at her. “Well, this saves me the trouble of asking you out to dinner.” He winked again. “Should’ve told me you had a bold streak, doll.”

She immediately scrambled up, placing one of her hands on his chest to shove off him when her leg slipped, and her knee went into his groin. He groaned and rolled over, holding his crotch and (Y/N) was so mortified all she could do was apologize profusely and at one point she was sure she was mixing up her words, but it didn’t matter. Grabbing her things, she started running off a third time.

Though she’d made it ten feet out of the door and down the street before someone grabbed her round the waist and hauled her to a stop. “Oh no! We’re not doing this pattern again! I am not getting hit a fourth time!”

(Y/N) spun in his arm and gaped at him. “I’m sorry!”

Jason sighed heavily and lowered his head. “Holy crap, I’ve never had such a hard time getting a girl to go out with me.”

“You wanna go out with me?” She pointed to herself despite her flustered state. “W-with me?” she gave him a dubious look. “Really? M-me?”

“Well, if you wanna hit me a fourth time to be sure, go ahead, but yeah,” he retorted then heaved another sigh. “Jeez, talk about getting hit on.”

(Y/N) spluttered at that. “I did not hit on you!”

“Right, you just hit me instead.”

“It was an accident! And I said I was sorry!”

Jason grinned at her and arm away. “Well, I’ll accept your sorry’s if you go on a date with me.”

She blinked at him. “A date? When?”

“Tonight.” He said. “There’s a bookstore down in the town square for insomniacs. Open until seven A.M. and serves a mean cup of hot cocoa.” Jason smiled and took her hand. “So? How ‘bout it, doll? Wanna go out with me tonight?”

All she could do was simply stare at this gorgeous man that obviously had a thing for her for some god forsaken reason. “Why?” she asked blankly, and he seemed to falter at that.

“Why what?” he repeated, confusion etching across his face.

“Why do you wanna go out with me?” (Y/N) gestured to herself. “I’m weird.”

“So am I.” he agreed.

“I stutter a lot.”

“So does my brother.”

“I don’t talk a lot. I don’t like talking a lot. People get mad at me when I talk a lot and I prefer to listen and you’re not going to like going out with me because I’m going to be super quiet because I get flustered easily and I—”

Jason put his hand over her mouth and stared at her. “Do you ever take a breath?” she nodded silently, and he sighed. “Look, (Y/N), it’s only taken getting shoved in the stomach with a book, getting punched with my own hand, and getting nut-shot to understand that you’re not exactly comfortable with the public.”

He removed his hand. “That’s why I invited you to the bookstore. Because even in the few weeks we’ve known each other, I know you like quiet places. But if you don’t feel comfortable going with me right now, that’s okay. We can take it slow.” Jason smiled at her. “Doll, all I wanna be is somebody to you.”

(Y/N) swallowed thickly and looked at her feet, whispering, “I…don’t wanna go out right now…but I’d like to give you my number…if you’re okay with that?” she shrugged. “We can text.” Feeling hopeful she reached out and placed her hang on his arm. “And get to know each other better? Maybe tell each other our favorite books? That’s…the best way in my opinion.”

His face lit up and he murmured, “I’d love that.” He pulled out his phone, tapping at it before he handed it over to her. “Here you go.”

She took it and looked at the contact name he’d already put in. My Flustered Doll. She glared at him. “You think you’re pretty cute, don’t you, Jason? You’re not. At all.”

He smirked. “Oh, is that so?” She nodded and he quipped, “We’ll just see about that then.”

(Y/N) rolled her eyes and typed in her number, handing him back his phone. “There you go.” He glanced at it, seemingly satisfied before he locked it and put it back in his pocket, then they met each other’s gazes and she awkwardly pointed over her shoulder. “I’m going home now.”

Jason caught her hand and kissed the back of it. “See you later, doll. Stay cute.”

She was hurrying off again, his laughter in her ears, unaware that their exchanging of numbers was going to evolve into so much more in the coming months.

***

“—And I’m pretty sure I can never show my face again at school, Jay. I’ve never been so embarrassed in all my life.”

He hummed, fingers gently dipping into her spine. “Well, this is coming from the girl that nut-shotted be in the middle of a busy bookstore.”

“Why would you remind me about that?” (Y/N) scowled. “It was an accident.”

“And yet it can’t be more mortifying than telling a guy to shove his head up his ass.” He retorted, eyes still closed as they basked in the sunlight streaming through the window. “This is at least a five on the ten scale.”

“More like a hundred.” She muttered, tucking her head under his chin. “I can’t believe I said that to him. Oh, I was just so—just so mad at what he said about my poem! He was just being mean!” (Y/N) gripped his sweatshirt. “You understand right?”

Jason nodded, his other hand resting at her hip. “Mhm.”

“You don’t think I’m overreacting, do you?” she frowned. “Everyone else thinks I am.”

“Telling someone that their poetry isn’t good because it isn’t iambic pentameter isn’t following constructive criticism, doll. It’s called being a douche.” She giggled and he bent his neck, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Call me next time Lord Douche-Canoe starts on your poetry again and I’ll school him on face-time.”

(Y/N) giggled again and rolled over, pressing them chest to chest and she grinned when he whined at her moving. “Thank you, Jason.”

He smiled at her. “I only take my thanks in kisses. Sorry, doll.”

Rolling her eyes, she bent down and pressed her lips to his. “I love you,” she murmured against him, and he hummed, hands grasping her hips.

“I love you more.”

“Nonsense.”

“Nonsense?” he scoffed, pulling back to look at her. “I am willingly in a relationship with the girl who nut-shot me in—MMHPF!”

(Y/N) shoved a pillow into his face, face hot as she shouted, “Stop bringing that up! It was an accident!” All she got in return was his laughter.

[wypapichulo]

𝟕 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬.

pairing ; lee donghyuck x reader genre ; fluff, very very slight angst / high school au word count ; 5010 words warnings ; some explicit language? the use of the word 'shit' a few times? playlist ; dive into you – nct dream | walk you home – nct dream | best friend – rex orange county | anti-romantic – txt | can't take my eyes off you – frankie valli | backyard boy – claire rosinkranz author's note ; i hope the ending doesn't sound too rushed,, aah i just lost the vibe and wanted to get it done ;,, i hope it's alright🚶 dt ; @matchaeee <3

Making someone you don't know fall for you would have been easier. Making your best friend fall in love with you? A little bit more of a hassle But not unless they've been in love with you from the start.

“I can make her fall in love with me in 7 days”

Haechan had said this whilst he was sitting on the sidewalk in front of the small convenience store beside an exasperated looking Jeno. “Hyuck, I’m pretty sure you can’t.”, “No I’m confident!” He continued, sipping his carbonated drink and cutting Jeno off as he spoke, “Look– I know her inside and out, I’m sure I know just the right tricks to make her fall for me!”

Jeno sighed slightly, knowing it was no use to force Haechan to listen to him. “You shouldn’t play with feelings like this…” He started, taking a sip of his own soda, “Can’t you just tell her you like her like a normal person–“, “you’re seriously no fun.” Jeno deadpanned at the statement, hand ready to reach for the brunets to pull his fingers back, “I just wanna see if she really likes me back for real!” he said, hands fidgeting with the rim of the soda can, “I don’t know, what if she doesn’t like me and rejects me when I ask her!”

“So the only logical way to fix that is by ‘making her fall in love with you in seven days’?!” Jeno exclaimed, nearly in tears at his own friend’s stupidity. Haechan grinned, “well if she doesn’t like me yet, she’ll definitely like me by the end of this.”

“I’m going to forget about him in the next 7 days.”

Renjun looked up in surprise at the girl’s statement, never having thought of the day she’d finally say it.

“You won’t.” He stated simply, continuing to sketch the tree outside the window of her room. She whined slightly, turning her attention to the boy in her room, “and what makes you say that?”

“You said that two years ago.”, “I was younger then!”, “Sure you were.”

She groaned, falling back on her bed with a thud, “I need to try… this one-sided shit is getting to me…”

Turning to look at the heap of sadness on the bed, Renjun sighed quietly. “I definitely won’t question you if you tell me you’re still in love with him by the end of it.”

“I’m only trying right?”

DAY 1

“How you doin’ gorgeous~”

To say she was shocked was an understatement. What?

“What do you want Hyuck.” She asked with a deadpan, staring down at the blank page of her notebook. Her plan was to study but it seemed as if the man duped as her best friend had other ideas. “I don’t want anything! Can’t I say nice things about you?” He said, taking the seat across from her.

The library was quiet, save for the few students chattering mutedly by the computers. The whole day Haechan had been fine– normal, so to speak… He sat next to her as usual during lunch–as they barely shared any classes this school year–and joked around for a bit, he stole the milk that she had painstakingly waited behind a line of first years to buy, giving her a presumably empty promise that he’d buy her another one… but then he came in the library and said that?

“You’ve never called me that before,” she scoffed, “and if you have, I’d remember.”

Of course she would. Somehow every compliment he had given her always stuck in her mind, even the few ingenuine ones that came out as jokes. The time he called her quick witted when she replied to one of his jokes, the time he said she was pretty good at math’s when she had explained to him how to find an axis… And of course there was the time he had exclaimed how she was prettier than the girl she had been talking shit about… not one of her best feats but... it was something.

So to have him call her gorgeous, even if it was just as a passing nickname… it was something that made her cheeks burn when she remembered his exact wording of the sentence.

“Well that doesn’t matter does it?” he said, leaning over the table to read through the same passage as she had been going through for the last hour, trying to fit anything and everything in her head. “Are you having trouble with anything?”

“Nothing you can help me with.” She scoffed, turning a page. “Aw, come on, don’t say that!” he laughed aloud, earning him an abundance of shushes from the few students scattered around the area. “I’m sure I, with my great expertise, can help you in some way with–“ he looked down at the chapter’s name, “intercontinental… exchange… what the hell is this–“

She laughed lightly at his confusion, “It’s economics,” she smiled, making his heart race with anticipation for some unknown reason, “you won’t get it.”

“Well maybe if you taught me, I’d understand.” He chuckled softly, sitting properly once more and sighing as he stared at the soft curve of her lips. She blushed lightly, realizing the direction of his eyes and looking back down to her book.

Barely the first day and she was already smitten once more with him… she wondered if she’d ever manage to escape from the trap that was Lee Donghyuck.

DAY 2

Closing her locker up, she nearly went into cardiac arrest as she saw none other than Haechan leaning on the locker right beside hers.

“Donghyuck! You almost gave me a heart attack!” she exclaimed, heart pounding at a thousand beats per second… or not– maybe she was just exaggerating…

He smirked, an image that had always and forever will be engraved into the crevices of her mind. “I hope that’s a good thing?”

She merely rolled her eyes at him, shoving her textbook into her backpack. “no.” she stated with a deadpan, turning to walk away. “Wait uppp!” he whined, following along behind the exasperated girl. If Jeno was tired of him, then she was something else entirely. How she managed to keep up with the outgoing boy was a mystery even to herself.

“Are you busy this weekend?” he asked as he caught up with her and took long steps to follow along with her short quick paces, “I was thinking maybe we could go to that new café that just opened– you know, the library one?”

She kept on walking, but her pace slowed significantly. A small tell to her interest in the subject. He smiled.

“You don’t even like reading much.” She said with a chuckle, “why’d you wanna go there?” She asked softly glancing up at him. “Well… you like reading… so–“ he shrugged slightly “–I thought you’d enjoy it…”

See this was the thing about him. Whenever she had made a commitment to stop thinking about him–leave her feelings for him in the dust–he’d always come back strong, making her feel as if he never wanted her to stop liking him. But what could she do? It seemed as if he never had the slightest interest in being anything other than friends.

She smiled softly, sighing as she opened her mouth to give out a small, “alright.” As her answer to his invitation.

“Great! It’s a date!”

The four words stopped her in her tracks between the horde of students walking to and from to get to their classes.

He only grinned, turning to face her as he walked backwards. “I’ll see you after class!”

She was frozen in place it seemed. Blinking as she watched the retreating back of the boy who had… just asked her out?

Again, confusion had begun to settle in. Was this ‘date’ meant to be a romantic date? Or just– one where they hung out as friends and had coffee?

In her confusion, she had forgotten to ask him about the exact day of which their little ‘date’ was supposed to be on… but she was sure he’d text her everything she needed to know about it, right down to the dress code.

Retracing her thoughts, maybe she was wrong… this might have been the first time he’d ever shown any interest in being anything more than friends… And to be quite honest, it may or may not have scared her…

What would she do if it turned out he really had feelings for her…? DAY 3

“I thought you said you were going to stop liking him.”

She had found Renjun in the art room as per usual, painting away at whatever his heart had decided to explore. The golden particles drifted in from the late afternoon sun as she had just finished up her own after school activity. “I want to… But he’s making it so hard!” she exclaimed, sitting on a table to the side at the back of the room.

Renjun was somehow her only sane friend, and even so, he preferred to stay out of her messy love life with the undeniably annoying Haechan. Not to mention that he couldn’t even talk to Haechan without bursting a nerve. “I don’t understand how you don’t see how annoying the boy is.” He said nonchalantly as he continued to mix and match an array of greens to the trees he had started on. “Just thinking of that should be enough to stir you away from him.”

Sighing in aggravation to her situation, she sticked out her tongue at the back of his head. “I saw that.” He stated, barely even looking up from his canvas. “’course you did…” she grumbled lowly, pouting and looking out of the window.

“That’s just the thing…” she started, her tone soft and her eyes unfocused, “he’s not… annoying…”

Renjun scoffed aloud, nearly keeling over in laughter. “Are you sure about that?” He said in between his dying giggles, turning to finally look at the girl who was now looking at him with an unamused look. “Shut up– you know what I mean!” she cried out in annoyance. He made a face, turning back to his painting and continuing to work on the piece. “Really, when you get to know him– he’s more than that!” she tilted her head back to rest on the cool wall of the classroom.

“Today he actually got me the milk I wanted…” she muttered softly, “It’s not much of course… but…”

“You said the other day that you had to wait a long time to get the milk cause of those underclassmen, so– y’know– I got it for you.”

“But it’s enough for you to stay deeply in love with him isn’t it.” Renjun sighed, knowing that she would start yelling as soon as the thought sunk in her head.

To his surprise, she didn’t. She simply sat in thought in the back of the class, watching as Renjun shrugged and continued with his painting. She mulled it over, what he said, and came to the personal conclusion that he in fact was right. It was no use in fighting the feeling. She really did care for him… a little afraid to say love– but she cared for him immensely nonetheless.

She got off the table and walked towards where Renjun sat with his canvas and patted his shoulder lightly.

“Thanks Renjunnie.”

“I told you not to call me that… makes me sound like a child...” He murmured, rolling his eyes before continuing, “what are you even thanking me for anyways? I didn’t do anything. The feelings were there the whole time.”

Her lips turned up slightly, and she hummed softly before walking towards the door.

“You did more than you think.” She said, turning to look at him once more as she opened the door. He merely looked at her in puzzlement, not understanding just how he had helped her in her quest of love. “I’ll talk to you tomorrow!”

“Yeah… see you…” he muttered quietly, his eyebrows still furrowed in confusion, before shaking his head as the door fell shut.

“Why are all my friends so weird…”

DAY 4

The living room of her house was spacious.

Very much so that she wondered why it felt as if she couldn’t even get a distance away from the clingy boy.

Haechan had come over to help her with some of her class work she was struggling with, and truly, she couldn’t thank him enough for the help… but why did he have to sit so close to her?

He had been reading a passage out to her from the book, shoulders brushing ever so slightly against one another, causing her cheeks to flare with heat. Every single move he made seemed to make her tense up all the more.

She was never like this! Each time they had studied together, even as much as she liked him, it never caused her to blush or fidget as much as she was doing now.

Maybe it was the effect of realizing that he might like her after all… The last three days were such an improvement in that area of their relationship that it made her wonder if he actually had liked her all along and just decided to showcase it all now.

“And that’s why the tectonic pressure in this area is much larger than here.” He explained– arm stretching slightly over her to point at an image on the book. For some unknown reason, she had held her breath ever so slightly as to maybe become stone in the next few seconds. He turned to look at her– their faces not too far from one another, and it was like time had stopped right in that moment, just to make her realize how much trouble she was in by falling for this forsaken boy. She could feel her face redden to the deep color of the roses on the front porch of her house, and suddenly, all she wanted to do was melt into a puddle right there and then.

Oddly enough, he seemed to be reactionless. It was as if the proximity of their faces had absolutely no effect on his own heart, bringing up the question in her mind once more whether he actually held any feelings for her other than the simple platonic ones.

“You weren’t paying attention were you?”

Her eyebrows raised to her hairline, quite literally, at the accusing statement he had thrown upon her. “I– Hey! I was listening!”

Suddenly every single feeling of embarrassment left her body as she pushed him playfully, as a means to get away from him as well. He yelped aloud, his back hitting the couch. “You weren’t!” he called out, a smile beginning to grow on the edges of his lips, “I can tell when you’re listening and when you’re not! And here, you were clearly not!”

She laughed loudly, throwing her head back as she did so. It had been ages since she had laughed so freely, and Haechan soaked up every single moment of it. His smile softened as he watched she tips of her eyes crinkle up and turn into crescents– the sound of her laughter as melodious as his own favorite song. In the moment, he wished so dearly he could just reach over and kiss her face all over, his heard filling up with affection he wished to shower her with.

Her laughter died down and she simply turned to look at him with a look in her eyes that he couldn’t quite place. “I really haven’t laughed that much in a while…” she said softly, watching as he nodded in listening. “I can tell.”

She giggled lightly once more. “Should we go back to studying?” she asked, a teasing smile gracing her features, to which he merely scoffed and laughed at.

“Only if you’ll listen properly this time.”

Another 3 days to go. If he was able to successfully make her fall for him, he’d be able to do all he wanted and more. DAY 5

So maybe accepting a walk home from the person you’re trying to forget about isn’t the best strategy to go with… but– in defense, Haechan had been more the one to tag along home, rather than ask her if she wanted anyone to walk her.

She had gotten used to it… but with the antics of the past week and the upcoming date on the Sunday (Yes he had given her all the information the night before. Yes he sent her every available picture there was of the place. Yes he was very excited and honestly, so was she.), who wouldn’t?

As Saturday was a day where she and the rest of the ’00 liners’–as they all preferred to call themselves (though their whole school year was the ’00 line’ so honestly that nickname was rather stupid)–usually had a game night at either Jeno or Jaemin’s house, both she and Haechan had settled on going to the cute little library-esque café on the Sunday.

The whole way home, Haechan couldn’t help but stare softly as she recounted the events of the day. Again, being in different classes had its perks, as there was always something new to tell each other about.

Every step he took felt heavier. He knew they both were getting closer to her house– every time he saw a bench on the side of the street his instinct would tell him to sit down with her and just talk for longer, wanting to keep all her minutes for himself selfishly.

“So that’s why she was kicked out of the class today– I honestly can’t believe she had the nerve to pull that off!” laughing slightly, she turned to face Haechan, “I’m sure you’d do some stupid shit like that too.”

Haechan snapped out of his short daze if not to cry out words of denial, causing her to laugh even louder at his insistence that he would not blend and eat drink his homework just to get extra time on a project.

“After all, I’m not stupid– I don’t need extra project time since I’m just that smart!” He huffed, glancing to the girl beside him to see if he had gauged a reaction out of her. To his delight, she laughed once more, letting him relish in her melodic laughter. “you’re really full of yourself you know?”

This erupted another fit of laughter and denial to spurt from the two, pitter patting home for the day. “I’m not full of myself! I’m just confident!”, “same difference, Hyuck.” She said between breaths as her laughter finally died down.

He merely huffed and pouted­– turning to the side and glancing at her a few times to gain her remorse for her mean words ; it clearly didn’t work as all she did was giggle softly and shook her head.

The brush of the back of their hands made his heart pound faster. He glanced down to look and there it was, the soft hand he wanted to hold in his so much. He looked back up in a panic– noticing that they were getting closer to her house.

Unknown to him, her heart was just as heavy at the thought of having to part with him for the day. Though she knew tomorrow would be another day that would definitely be spent with him, it made her sorrowful to think of the fact that they’d have to be apart for the night. Cheesy as it may seem.

As they stood in front of the pathway up to her front door, he debated internally on whether or not he should do what he wanted to do or not, his head spinning at the thought of her maybe thinking he was an idiot for what he was about to do. She smiled up at him, a silent goodbye being exchanged between them, before turning around to walk up the pavement to her house.

“(Y/N)!”

Her feet stopped, and in turn, so did her heart. In a good way, of course, but it stopped nonetheless. She stayed silent for a moment before turning to face the brunet once more. “Yeah?” she asked quietly, a soft smile present on her features.

His mouth dried up. He had nothing to say– stupid! Why did he stop her like that then?

“I– Uh…” he faltered in his words; eyes still stuck on her face. Lips, to be specific.

She tilted her head slightly in question, wondering what was going through that enigma of a mind everyone called Haechan. “Hyuck?”

He smiled and shook his head, opting to grin at her like the idiot in love he was. “Until we meet again tomorrow~” he said in a mock posh accent which made her giggle lightly behind her hand. She merely shook her head and turned once more, walking up to her front door and opening it slowly, turning to give him one last smile before she closed the door.

There he stood like a lovestruck fool in the middle of her driveway as he watched her back turn as she finally walked into the house.

“I wish I had the courage to give you that hug…” DAY 6

Jeno’s house was the choice of the week, Haechan and Jaemin having pestered him into agreement over where they’d all be bundling into for the afternoon.

“I really don’t see why it should have to be my house!” Jeno whined as he stepped into the living room with snacks in hand, “It was already my house last week! It should be nana’s this week…” he trailed off, grumbling as he stepped over the legs of a serious Haechan and sat between the sole girl in their group and Jaemin on the floor. Jaemin laughed aloud, “you have the comfiest sofa!” he hollered out, earning him a kick from Renjun, who’s legs he was sitting in between.

“You’re not even sitting on the sofa,” Renjun retaliated for Jeno, cutting him some slack, “you’re leaning on my legs.”

“Well they sure are comfy if that’s what you’re implying.” Jaemin said, pressing at the buttons erratically as he flurried to beat Haechan at what seemed to be a simple game of mario kart. Hey, anything to beat Haechan right?

“DAMN!” Haechan yelled, causing the girl seated beside him to jump slightly in her seat. Jaemin only laughed, leaning his head up to look at an unimpressed Renjun.

“Hyuck give me the controller, I’m gonna beat Jaemin.” Renjun said with some form of courage to beat the one and only Nana. “Sure you are,” he said, standing up and handing the controller over to Renjun. “Anymore soda anyone?” he asked, stepping to the side to head over to the kitchen. “I’ll have a soda!”, “alrighty! One soda coming right up!” Haechan called out, turning right out to the kitchen.

“I’m gonna run out of sodas at the rate you’re drinking them…” Jeno murmured to her softly, a giggle erupting out of her lips, “fine then– I’ll have a cup of tea instead, ‘s that better?” she asked softly, smiling at the black-haired boy beside her. Jeno smiled back, his eyes disappearing behind his perfect crescents, “I’ll go get you some then.” He said, standing up from his seat to get her some tea.

Walking into the kitchen, he tutted lightly as he found Haechan going through his fridge. “And what if my mom was the one who had walked in?” Jeno stated with a deadpan, rolling his eyes at the idiotic grin his friend gave him. “First off– she’s not home. Second off– your mom loves me!” Haechan exclaimed, closing the fridge behind him after finding nothing of his interest. He picked up the sodas on the counter– before Jeno stopped him. “She changed her mind on the sodas, said she’d have tea instead.” He explained, moving to the cabinets to take out some tea to brew for her, to which Haechan simply hummed in understanding before cracking one of the soda cans open and sipping it.

“So…” Jeno started, turning to face him as he leaned on the counter behind him, “how’s the love quest?” He queried, wondering about his best friends own pursuit of love. “Is she ‘in love’ with you yet?”

Haechan shrugged slightly, “I sure hope she is… if not then I’m not sure what I’m gonna do tomorrow…”

“Why… What’s tomorrow?” Jeno questioned again, tilting his head in confusion. In Haechan’s mind… he looked rather like a lost puppy…

“Date.” The only word that came out of Haechan’s mouth as he stared with a smirk on his face to the boy standing opposite him.

Jeno’s eyes widened significantly, “Date? You mean you asked her out successfully?”

Haechan grinned, “Of course I did!”, he boasted smugly, “only a fool wouldn’t be able to make her fall in love! Especially with the shitty dudes she’s liked before.”

Jeno looked up in glee, “then– after that– my days of hell are over! I won’t have to listen to your lamenting again!” He whined when Jeno exclaimed that, shaking his head, “I wasn’t lamenting, you were the one who complained about my topic of conversation–“ he paused, rolling his eyes at the grinning puppy-like boy.

“Alright fine maybe I was,” he agreed begrudgingly, “But hey! I managed to make her fall in love with me AND score a date in 7 days! My lamenting wasn’t for nothing after all!”

Their shared laughter was cut short by the sound of the slamming of the front door and the cries of both Renjun and Jaemin. Haechan looked up worriedly at Jeno, who in turn gestured him to the kitchen exit.

“what’s wrong?” Haechan asked once he reached by the front door beside the other two boys. “You!” Renjun seethed, turning to glare at the brunet, “She was already trying to forget about you and now you play with her feelings like this!”

Furrowing his eyebrows in confusion, Haechan scoffed, “I never played her like shit! I was always honest!”, “Then tell me what this stupid 7 day bet is all about!” Renjun yelled in his face, angry for his best friend who had muffled out in tears the short reason she was leaving so early.

“Bet?” he questioned, truly confused as to the entirety of the situation, “what fucking bet?”

Renjun rolled his eyes, “Don’t play stupid Donghyuck. You were talking to Jeno about some 7 day bet to get her to like you or something–”, “wait, this is all wrong!” Jeno exclaimed, “We never made a bet! Hyuck wanted to confess to her at the end of the week, and that’s why the whole week he had been making proper advances to her…”

The room stilled as the clarity of the situation which was misunderstood settled into their heads.

“I need to talk to (Y/N).” DAY 7

Checking her phone, she grumbled slightly, rereading the message that Haechan had sent to her the evening prior, or rather, spammed her endlessly.

hyuck ♡ : please come tomorrow.

hyuck ♡ : i really really have to talk to you about this :((

hyuck ♡ : please please please

hyuck ♡ : I don’t know what I’ll do if you don’t come :(((

hyuck ♡ : please? At least consider it?

Sighing quietly as she scrolled through the abundance of messages of theirs from previous sleepless nights, she jumped when she heard the call of the voice she had cried herself to sleep over the night before. Oh his treacherous voice, hurting her feelings like that with the words that came out of his wretched mouth yesterday.

“(Y/N)!” he said, jogging up to her with a grin spread on his face, almost as if yesterday had been a dream and she had simply hallucinated the entire event. But she knew better than to believe him that fast.

Giving him a curt nod, she spoke up before anything could leave his mouth– “Tell me, Donghyuck, what happened yesterday?” she started, face hard with the cut still deep in her heart. His smile faltered, realizing just how much his words had hurt her feelings the day before.

“Do you take my feelings as a joke?” she asked again, looking to her feet in fear of her eyes betraying her and leaving tear stains across her cheeks, “because if you do then i–“

“No!” he cut, knowing that if he let this go on for longer it would only hurt her more, “No, I’d never!”

She was quiet, listening to the sound of his ragged breathing, almost as if the quietness would let her hear the sound of his heartbeat.

“Then what… what…”

He sighed softly, “I was… scared.”

Looking up, she was met with the troubled face of the person she once thought to be the largest of mysteries. “I didn’t want to be faced with rejection, I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you, as a friend or as…” he cleared his throat slightly, turning to the side, “as something more.”

The tension was thick, the street around them continuing on its route of life whilst they both stood in their own quiet bubble. Her eyes softened at his statement, the pieces of the puzzle which was Haechan starting to become clearer by every word.

“And you thought the most logical way to go, was to ‘make me fall in love with you in seven days’? come on Hyuck we’re not in some stupid romance movie–“, Haechan’s whine cut her voice short, “You sound just like Jeno now!” he cried, making her laugh softly, before stepping forward to take his hand in hers.

He looked down at their intertwined hands and looked right back up at her questioningly. “what…”

“If you liked me, you really should have just said so…” she muttered softly, shaking her head with a slight giggle, “If you did, it definitely would have saved us 7 days.”

He grinned widely, “so this… makes us boyfriend and girlfriend now, right?” he asked, grin turning into a teasing smirk on his face, making the girl before him scoff and laugh.

“We’ll see in 7 days.”

[parkerslatte]

Tough Times [three]

Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none

Word Count: 2.5k

Summary: After her talk with Penelope and thinking a few things over. Y/N begins to notice all of the small things she had never noticed before about Spencer and her feelings begin to surface.

A/N: This is the final part! I enjoyed writing this little mini series and I am currently planning one that is much longer :)

Part One // Part Two // Part Three

MASTERLIST

***

The weekend went quicker than Y/N would have liked. Before she knew it, she was back at work on Monday morning. She got there a little early so there weren't many people in at the moment - she stopped by to say a quick hello to Hotch in his office before heading to the kitchen and making herself a drink. It was going to be a long day for Y/N, she had a stack of paperwork that she had to go through and she was dreading it. More importantly, she was dreading any interaction she would have with Spencer.

Once Y/n had left Penelope after the two went out for coffee and shopping, mainly for clothes, she had started thinking about what Penelope had said in the coffee shop that day. Apparently her and Spencer loved each other, and apparently it was so blatantly obvious to everyone else, it caused them physical pain. Y/N didn’t see it at first but when she began to actually think about it - she realised how much she actually loved him. 

Y/N thought back to a phrase Penelope had said. Don’t think, just do. At first, Y/N was just going to do - but after thinking it over (which goes against the phrase, she realised), she decided that it would be a bit forward approaching Spencer and confessing her undying love for him. Especially when she wasn’t even one hundred percent sure if she was in love with him or not. 

As Y/N headed back to her desk, her heart stopped for a moment. Spencer had arrived and was sitting at his desk across from hers. Ever since Y/N had started working at the BAU, her desk was always across from Spencer’s. Occasionally when she was doing paperwork and it was a slow and boring day, she would write notes on pieces of paper and throw them over to him. She knew it was unprofessional but it is what she did to keep her sane with the amount of paperwork she needed to fill out. What Y/N didn’t know however, was that Spencer kept every single note she ever threw his way. 

Y/N sat down at her desk and placed her mug on a coaster. She looked up and found Spencer looking at her. Y/N had never noticed it before but Spencer was incredibly handsome. Maybe she did notice it before but she refused to acknowledge it. She gave Spencer a smile as a greeting and he returned it. Not sensing any awkwardness in the air, Y/N started a conversation.

“How was your weekend?” Y/N asked, sitting down in her seat. 

“It was fine, I read a couple of books.” Spencer answered.

“A couple? A couple for you Spencer is about twenty.” Y/N joked causing Spencer to let out a small chuckle.

“I’m serious, I only read a couple. I was distracted,” Spencer retorted, “Is that a new shirt?”

Y/N looked down at the shirt she had decided to wear that day.She had bought it over the weekend with Penelope. 

“Yes it is,” Y/N replied, flattered that Spencer had noticed, “I bought it over the weekend. How did you know?” 

“I always notice things about you.” Spencer stated causing a small blush to dust over Y/N’s cheeks. 

Their conversation was quickly cut short as the rest of the team filtered through the doors. Y/N greeted them individually. Penelope, however, gripped onto Y/N’s hand and dragged her away. 

“Penelope, what are you doing?” Y/N questioned.

“Have you told him yet?” She asked.

“What? No, of course I haven’t told him.” Y/N whispered. 

Penelope let out a groan, “You need to. I’m so invested in this relationship, it’s like watching a TV show and the two main characters love each other but they keep dancing around their feelings. You and Spencer are the main characters!”

“Penelope, I’m not even sure that I fully like him in that way.”

“Well if you don’t, he sure does. He was looking at you like you were the only person in the world.” Penelope stated. 

“Pen, I love you but please let me do this in my own time. Just...watch your TV show from afar.” Y/N said and began walking away.

“So you do admit that your love life is like a TV show!” Penelope exclaimed.

“Bye Penelope.” Y/N replied and walked back to her desk.

Y/N sat down and leaned back in her chair. She chuckled slightly at Penelope’s excitement. 

“What was that about?” Spencer asked.

“Just Penelope being Penelope.” Y/N responded before leaning forward and getting to her paperwork. 

An hour of going through different files and filling out reports and paperwork would make anyone tired. Even if she had gotten a decent night sleep, Y/N just wanted to rest her eyes. And that’s exactly what she did. Her head was leant on her hand as she slowly shut her eyes. 

***

Y/N was sitting on a couch, she couldn’t make out exactly where but all she knew was that Spencer was sitting on the couch with her. In fact, her back was pressed against his chest as his arms wrapped around her, his fingers laced with hers. Spencer leaned forward and whispered something into Y/N’s ear causing her to smile. Y/N tilted her head up to look Spencer in the eyes before they flicked down to his lips. She slowly moved in, her hand moved up to cup his face before it wrapped around the back of his head, bringing it down and closer to her lips. Before they could connect however, everything began to fade. Y/N could hear her voice being said although it sounded like a distant echo. It became clearer however, when the dream faded away.

***

Y/N awoke with a start. A gentle hand was placed on her shoulder. She tilted her head up to come face to face with Spencer. She had just had a dream about him. She had just dreamt about kissing him....and liked it. Involuntarily, Y/N's eyes flicked down to Spencer’s lips. It was quick, if you weren’t paying any attention you would miss it. 

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Y/N said once she snapped out of her daze.

A soft smile graced Spencer’s features, “I said you fell asleep.”

“Oh, how long was I out for?” Y/N questioned.

“Four minutes thirty-seven seconds.” Spencer replied, checking his watch.

“You timed how long I was asleep for?”

“No, you closed your eyes just as I got up to get coffee and when I came back you were asleep. I just assumed you fell asleep right after I got up.” Spencer replied.

“I probably did. I’m not even tired, it’s just that going through so much paperwork gives me a headache.” Y/N said.

“I could take some of it for you.” Spencer offered.

“I couldn’t ask you to do that Spence. You’ve still got a lot to do and even though you read literally twenty thousand words per minute, you would be done way past ten.” Y/N said.

“I seriously don’t mind.” Spencer said.

“It’s fine Spence,” Y/N replied, “No as much as I want you to stay and chat, I should get back to my work otherwise I’ll be staying until past ten.” 

“I’ll let you get to that,” Spencer replied, “Oh, and I refilled your coffee.”

Y/N gasped and grabbed his hand, “Oh, you’re a lifesaver! Thank you.”

Spencer smiled, “You’re welcome.”

Y/N watched as he took a seat at his desk. He immediately focused and blocked out the world around him. Y/N noticed the small frown on his features as he read through the files. She thought it was quite cute. Y/N didn’t know what to feel in that moment. She had admitted to herself that Spencer was handsome (although subconsciously she always thought that), and the dream she had about him. She was pretty sure that wasn’t a normal dream friends have about each other. For one she knew she would never have a dream like that about Derek. All Y/N knew now was that she was pretty sure she liked Spencer Reid. 

***

Y/N still had four more files to get through. It was nine thirty at night. She thought she could’ve gotten all the files done by at least seven but she was too distracted. Spencer asked her on multiple occasions if she was okay because he caught her spacing out. Of course she just lied and blamed it on tiredness. She couldn’t exactly say the reason she was distracted was because of him.

By the rate she was going, she would be done around eleven and on top of that, she still needed to get home, and right now she was tired. Y/N felt herself beginning to drift off when someone cleared their throat behind her. She opened her eyes and spun around. Spencer was standing there.

“What are you doing here? I thought you left.” Y/N said.

“I was about to but I knew that you still had files to get through so I came back to help you.” Spencer replied. 

Instead of going to his desk across from her, Spencer pulled up a chair and sat at her desk with her. 

“It’s okay Spencer, you don’t have to.” Y/N said, not wanting to be the reason he stayed much later than needed. 

“I want to.” Spencer replied, causing a small grateful smile to grace Y/N’s features.

He leant over her desk to grab two of the files. Y/N sucked in a breath because of how close he was to her. His knee was pressed against hers and his shoulder brushed hers on several occasions. It was like she had become hyper aware of everything around her. Y/N, not wanting to let him distract her again, tried her best to ignore it and got to work.

Before either one of them knew it. They had finished going through the files. Y/N checked her watch and it was ten fifteen. Earlier than it would have taken if Y/N did the files herself. She leant back in her chair and let out a sigh of relief. 

“Thank god that’s over with,” Y/N said aloud, “I just want to get home and get some sleep.”

Y/N stood up and began to collect her things and shove them into her bag. Spencer waited patiently behind her. As Y/N and Spencer walked to where her car was, she let out a series of yawns and rubbed her eyes on multiple occasions. When they made it to her car, Spencer spoke up.

“Do you want me to drive? You look like you’re going to pass out.” Spencer offered.

Y/N didn’t even bother to argue, she threw her car keys over to Spencer and got in the passenger seat. Spencer climbed in the driver's seat and started up the car. Y/N let her head fall against the window and she slowly lost consciousness as the radio played quietly in the background. 

***

Y/N awoke to Spencer softly shaking her. She groaned and looked around confused before she realised that they were in front of her apartment. She rubbed her eyes before they both got out of the car. Once the cold night air hit her face, Y/N instantly woke up. The street was quiet, there was barely anyone around. 

“How are you getting home?” Y/N questioned. She regretted letting Spencer drive because he had no way to get home.

“I’ll walk. I don’t live too far away.” Spencer replied.

“No, you drove me home, you can stay the night. It’ll take you at least half an hour to walk.” Y/n insisted.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to intrude.”

“I insist.” 

Spencer smiled gratefully before the both headed up to Y/N’s apartment. On the way up, they brushed hands several times. Each time they turned to each other before quickly looking away. After it happened for a fourth time, Y/n took the time to intertwine their fingers. They had held hands on several occasions before but this time it felt different - for the both of them.

Once they got to Y/N’s apartment, she reluctantly let go of Spencer’s hand to unlock the door, she pushed it open and stepped aside to let him in. 

Spencer walked in, clutching the strap of his bag. He had been in Y/N’s apartment on several occasions but this time it felt weird to be there. Along with Y/N, he had discovered his feelings towards her. He wanted to shy away from them but a single message from Penelope put everything into perspective for him. The message read, Don’t think, just do. And that’s exactly what Spencer did.

“There’s still some clothes here from the last time you stayed-”

“I think I love you.” Spencer cut her off.

Y/N went silent, trying to process what just came out of Spencer’s mouth, “Wha- What?”

“I think- no, I know I love you,” Spencer confessed, “I didn’t realise it until the moment we woke up in the hotel room. I knew that was how I wanted to wake up everyday, with you right there by my side. I wanted to ignore these feelings, but Penelope messaged me earlier and it put some things into perspective for me.”

Y/N was shocked by Spencer’s words, “I- I don’t know what to say. You love me?”

“So much,” Spencer said softly, “I think I always have.”

A moment passed before a smile stretched across Y/N's face, “Good.”

Spencer smiled before he stepped closer to her, cupped her face in his hands and planted his lips on hers. Y/N grabbed onto the front of his shirt, bunching it up in her fists pulling him closer. One of Spencer’s hands moved to hold the back of her head, deepening the kiss while the other stayed on her cheek, his thumb occasionally brushing over her cheek. The kiss was unlike anything Y/N had experienced before. Spencer kissed with a type of urgency, like she would slip through his fingers at any moment. 

They reluctantly broke away from the kiss as they needed to breathe. Y/N’s lips were slightly swollen but she didn’t care. She wrapped her arms around Spencer’s neck and brought him down for a hug. His arms wrapped around her waist tightly.

“I love you too Spencer,” Y/N said, “When we woke up in the hotel room, I liked the way your arms felt around me. And since then I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you. I love you so much Spencer Reid.”

Spencer smiled into her neck before he picked her up and spun her around, causing Y/N to let out a giggle. He set her back on her feet and rested his forehead against hers, “I love you.”

“I don’t think I’m ever going to get tired of you saying that,” Y/N mumbled, before pecking his lips, “Now, let’s get to bed so I can wake up and see your gorgeous face.” Spencer smiled before allowing himself to be dragged into her bedroom.

[like-a-bag-of-potatoes]

Our Story - Prologue

theA/N: My first Chris Evans series. This is just a fluffy little series that has been floating around in my brain for a while, and because I've recently fallen head first into the Chris trashcan, I figured he’d be the perfect person for this little love story AU. I mean absolutely no disrespect with this, it's just a work of fiction. I also want to give a huge thank you to @percywinchester27​ and @girl-next-door-writes​ for being my betas for this story. You are both amazing and I'm so grateful for your help on this. 

Chapter: One

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader (unfortunately no Chris in this part) 

Warnings: Absolutely none. 

Wordcount: 1850

Four weeks after my twentieth birthday, I left my childhood home in Savannah, Georgia, and pointed my nose towards New York. It was hard to believe that eight years had passed already, but my twenty-eighth birthday approached in large strides to remind me of how much time had passed, and how much had changed. New York City was a stark contrast to Savannah, the city that never sleeps VS the most charming city in America. When I first moved here, it was my intention to stay for only a year, then I would be back in Savannah with my family and the man that I loved so deeply, Josh. 

However, life never really turns out how you intend it to, no matter how much you plan for your future. Josh and I used to talk at length about our future together, and I honestly couldn't wait to get started on it all, house, careers, and then a family of our own at some point. Then, after eight or so months of long-distance we finally broke and admitted to ourselves that it was just too hard. I know you might think that since we had stuck it out for that long, we surely could manage a few more months, but by then I had been asked to stay on in what was supposed to be a temporary position, and I had fallen in love, not only with the city, but with my work. I asked Josh to come to me, told him we could find ourselves a little apartment in Queens, or the East Village, something we could afford, and we could spend a few years together here before moving back home to start a family. I guess you’ve already figured it didn't turn out that way, and it ended, as long-distance relationships often do, in heartbreak. It was my first real heartbreak- amicable, civil, and soul-crushing. It was also then I realized, as we all, unfortunately, do at some point in our lives, that love does not, in fact, conquer all. 

If I'm being completely honest, I knew within my first month in this magical city that I would never want to leave, and after things ended with Josh, I felt as though I had deceived him in some cruel, unintentional way. Every conversation we had, had after that had been filled with lies and promises I never intended to keep. I had fooled myself as much as I had fooled him. After our break up, although completely heartbroken, I felt free and unburdened, which strangely made me feel even worse about the whole thing. Our love didn't end in some big blowout argument, or because we didn't want to be with one another. It ended because of the thousands of miles that separated us, and because in the months we spent apart, I changed in a way that could not have been foreseen. Never did I imagine myself in a big and busy city, but as I said, New York and me, it was love at first sight. 

You might be wondering what job took me from my safe and comfortable life in Georgia, thinking that it must have been some grand, once in a lifetime thing. It was not. It was a temporary job as a personal assistant. I found it as I sat by my computer one night, daydreaming about what kind of life I would live if I had all the money in the world, what life Josh and I could create for ourselves. That's when I came across the ad. A woman, Mrs. Wallace, needed an assistant. She was a very wealthy woman in need of someone to keep track of her very busy social calendar, amongst other things. I knew she was wealthy because she lived on Fifth Avenue, not that I had ever been to New York and really knew what that entailed, but I had seen movies and read books placed in the city and knew very well that Fifth Avenue was a very expensive street. There was little to no description of the job or what Mrs. Wallace was looking for in an assistant, other than that they had to be organized and were able to juggle multiple things at once. Beyond that it really came down to compatibility. I was nothing if not organized, so before I knew it, I had compiled an application letter and sent to her email. I told no one about this, because it was ridiculous for me to think I'd even get a reply back. In all honesty, it had all been forgotten by the next morning, and I didn't think of it again until three days later when, at dinner with Josh I might add, I got an answer. She would like for us to meet. We sent a couple of emails back and forth where I tried to, as politely as possible, explain that I did not have the means to travel to New York just for an interview. I stated that I appreciated her interest, and apologized profusely for not being able to make it out there. It was then she asked for my details, and about fifteen minutes later I got a confirmation from American Airlines that my ticket had been booked and paid for. Two days later I was sitting opposite Mrs. Wallace at a restaurant that I would never be able to afford, listening to her talk about the job I had applied for and what she expected of me. 

The very first thing that struck me about Mrs. Wallace was her age. For some reason, I had imagined someone in their fifties, full of botox, fillers, and whatever else middle-aged women put into their faces to look younger, but Mrs. Wallace was not that much older than me. At the time we met, she was twenty-seven, so younger than I am now, and strikingly beautiful. Thick, black hair that looked professionally blow-dried and sculpted so that not a single strand was out of place. It draped over her shoulders in loose Hollywood style waves and stood in sharp contrast to the white blazer she wore. Her skin was olive, her eyes deep brown, and her cheekbones could probably cut glass. When you put that together with her long, model-like legs, an hourglass waistline, and a very ample bosom, the woman looked like a greek goddess. To top it all off she had a warm and kind smile, and a kick-ass sense of humor. Kate, as she insisted I call her, was far from the stuck up, nose in the sky, botox filled woman that I had imagined in my head. We hit it off, and before dessert was served, I had a job offer. 

It's hard to explain, but I felt as though I needed to take this opportunity, that this was an experience I was meant to have in some inexplicable way, and I accepted right then and there without a second thought, or even a conversation with my family or boyfriend. Josh was angry with me at first, but supportive, so two weeks later I stood in front of 1040 Fifth Avenue and looked up at the towering building with its limestone and intricate carvings here and there. Kate greeted me at the front door as I stepped out of the car that she had sent to pick me up from the airport. This place even had a porte-cochere to protect the residents from rain as they walked from the door to their private chauffeur-driven vehicles. I would be staying here with the Wallace family, in the staff quarters with the rest of the staff of course, so that I could be available to Kate at all times. And that's how my New York adventure started. 

Eight years later, I am still working for Kate, still living in my little room in the staff quarters, but I love it. I have a little bathroom and everything I need. Food is prepared for us all by the cook, Rosalia. She is a little, plump woman in her mid-fifties, kind and compassionate, not to mention deeply passionate about the food she prepared for the whole household. Along with me and Rosalia, the other staff in our quarters are Magdalena, the housekeeper, and Mitch, who is Mr Wallace’s assistant. There was more staff, of course, like the private chauffeur’s, who didn't live on-site and throughout any given day, people would be in and out of the place like it was a busy office space as opposed to the home that it actually is. 

Now, Mr Wallace was a very busy man, working non-stop whether it be at his office, or at his home office. It seemed as whenever I saw him, he was walking in fast strides, either on the phone, or confirming things with Mitch who half sprinted behind him with his I-pad, trying not to trip over anything as he tried to keep up and take down notes at the same time. Henry, that was Mr Wallace’s first name, was a little older than Kate, not so much that you could accuse her of being a gold digger, but he was approaching his fifties now. He didn't look it though, he was a very handsome man, and kind. Imagine George Clooney, a man that just seems to get more gorgeous with every passing year. Kate and Henry were busy, always had their hands full with whatever it was, but somehow they always found time to share a meal together every day. Even if it meant having Rosalia heat up some leftovers for them at midnight. They were very much in love, and it was clear in the way they looked at one another, and how they always made sure to have that little moment to themselves every day. A couple of years ago, Kate had confided in me that she could not have children of her own, it was something that had weighed on her since she was only sixteen years old, but with Henry, she said, ‘I have all I need with that man, all the love I could ever wish for.’ It was a shame really, because I knew that Kate would have made an amazing mother, and Henry a great dad. ‘I'm alright,’ she had assured me. ‘I've come to peace with it, and learned not to dwell on something that will never be.’ 

So, that's the short version of how I ended up here, doing a job I adored in a city I loved with all my heart, so I think it's about time we move forward. Jump to the part where my real story starts. Spoiler alert; it involves a warm summer day in Central Park, a ruined dress, and an extremely handsome man named Chris. 

******

If you liked what you read, how about slamming that reblog button and help spread my work? If you leave a little comment on top of that, you’ll be in my heart forever. 

Want a tag? I got you!! Just send me an ASK and I'll add you. 

Tags: @thesecretlifeofdaydreamss

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 142

Another late chapter... I’m really batting a thousand lately, seems like.

So, work has been insane, but @baelpenrose reminds me to post when I forget, thankfully. And this is SUCH a fun chapter.  I hope you all enjoy!

I dropped into a seat in Mess Hall Seven with a groan, so exhausted that I barely managed to get soup and a grilled cheese from the console.  Tyche yawned and nodded in agreement before poking at her sushi bowl idly. It was six Von-days after the last drill, and between coordinating increased training schedules for Shelters Three and Seven and helping Charly plan kink-night at the Undine, we were wiped.

“People are ungrateful,” she muttered before managing to barely balance a piece of salmon into her mouth.

I muttered something that hopefully sounded like agreement before I scooped up a bite of my soup with one wedge of sandwich, too lazy to even bother with the spoon. “Remind me why we don’t have Vati and Hannah handling the practice schedules?”

“Because they are handling the extra evacuation drills with Jokul and Arthur.”

Personally, I thought they were getting the better end of this deal, but since the raging success of their first Food Festival, it really was only fair. “And the relocations for those who need it,” I admitted. “Except mine.”

“Conor may actually strangle one of them if any of your plants don’t make it,” she pointed out, gesturing with her chopsticks for emphasis after having given up and using her fingers to eat her lunch. “Not to mention I wouldn’t wish packing with Maverick on anyone.”

“He’s letting me pack the books and textiles.” I shrugged in acceptance after taking another bite of soup-dipped sandwich.

We picked at our food in silence after that, grateful for something resembling a reprieve, before we were interrupted by a flurry of grey hair and enthusiasm landing in one of the nearby chairs with a heavy thunk. “Good afternoon, Madams Reid.”

“Hey, Jokul,” I muttered as Tyche just waggled her fingers at him. I really think I liked it better when he was trying to kill me. Right now, I might even let him do it.

“I know you are both on your meal period, but I wanted to test the waters on potentially scheduling a community activity,” he rushed out.

Tyche guarded her lunch with an almost feral aggression, having heard what happened the last time Jokul had interrupted my lunch. “That should really be something you run by Al-”

“Worthington, yes, I know,” he interrupted. “However, I know you are both quite busy and I wanted to be respectful of your time. As such, I will make this as brief as - ow!” He snatched his hand back away from the other half of my sandwich, rubbing where I had slammed my spoon down onto it.

“I have no idea where the food stealing comes from, but don’t,” I warned him.

“Rude, got it,” he nodded in a terrifying impression of Charly’s normal demeanor. “As I was saying, I recently learned a new type of game from Terra, from the Before.  It involves teamwork, and encourages creativity and escapism, and I think it would be a very good community activity - “

I surrendered to my urge to groan. “We are not doing a redux of Settlers of Cattan. Arthur stabbed someone last time.”

“I didn’t press charges…” Jokul pouted, glancing at the scar on the back of his wrist briefly. “Besides, it was only a fork. Clearly he didn’t mean it, there were four knives in arms reach counting my own.”

Tyche cocked an eyebrow at me. Seriously?

I pursed my lips and wrinkled my nose in response. Yep.

“So what game is it this time?” I asked hesitantly.

I was reward-bombarded with a grin. “It’s called Dungeons and Dragons! Somewhat like a video game, but with more people, and using writing implements and paper. Oh, and different kinds of dice, very important. One person is something of the narrator, to give the game a kind of structure, while the other players act as characters in the game… Ivan introduced me to it, and it is quite challenging with the right people.  The dungeon master - that is the narrator - has to re-evaluate the story based on the actions of the other players, but the players themselves don’t know what the dungeon master is going to do. It is very much a social diversion, and there are many classes….”

As Jokul continued to gush, he was rather oblivious to the fact that Tyche and I were stuffing our faces as quickly as possible to avoid interrupting him or laughing. We had both played when we were younger - in fact, we had been introduced to the game by our mother.  There had even been a very overwhelming pop-culture movement in our youth around the game, which further emphasized just how far out in the boonies Jokul had grown up.  As shocking as it was that he was just now discovering the game, it came at exactly zero surprise that he enjoyed it so much - it was right up his alley of interests.

About fifteen minutes and two more grilled cheeses into his retelling of the campaign he was part of, Charly and Arthur squeezed in with us, their own lunches in tow.  As seemed to be a growing trend, Arthur reached over and snagged one of my sandwiches before I could react, shoving half of it in his face.

That was apparently enough to snap Jokul out of his story. “Hey! Why didn’t you hit him?”

“His deathwish, not my problem,” I shrugged.

Around the remains of my lunch, Arthur managed to enunciate. “Told you, Noah fissed the dairy allergy.”

“Bleargh,” I gagged comically. “It’s okay, think I’m done anyway.”

Jokul’s hand swatted Arthur’s out of the way to steal the rest of my food. “As I was saying, Ivan was quite clever with his resolution to deal subdural damage to the player who was very much ruining the storyline by insisting his character was immune to magical sleep…”

“Oooooo! I love tabletops!” Charly squealed, bouncing in her seat. “What setting are you playing in right now?  My favorite was always Exalted…”

“Miss Harper, I think we are discussing different activities.” Jokul sounded supremely confused, but my heart broke a bit.

Arthur shook his head. “Maybe not Exalted, but what about Ebberron? Swordhaven, maybe?  Just tell me it isn’t Ravenloft… I know you haven’t been fucking around in a Dark Sun, but I beg you to tell me you aren’t playing Ravenloft.”

“I’m not sure what those are… Ivan introduced me to Dungeons and Dragons. There is only one setting.”

“So… Greyhawk or homebrew,” Arthur nodded. “Best place to start, get the basics down.”

Jokul’s head pivoted toward me and Tyche, squinting in annoyance. “You knew, didn’t you? And you let me prattle on…”

“You were so… happy….” I explained plaintively. “We didn’t want to ruin that for you.”

Tyche nodded. “We both remember how fun that first campaign is. And honestly? We’ve been having a kind of crappy day.  It was nice to hear someone be excited about something that isn’t work related.”

“But I came to you to discuss making it a ship activity…”

“Originally, yeah,” I shrugged. “That was maybe the first thirty seconds.  After that, you were doing what literally every tabletop roleplaying person has done since the beginning of time… telling stories about the fun, dramatic, and frankly stupid shit the people in your party are doing.”

“Says the two-foot eight halfling rogue,” Arthur scowled.

“I rolled it at random, it was fifteen years ago, get over it!” I threw my hands up dramatically. “At least I wasn’t mated to a frickin’ deity.”

Charly giggled uncontrollably while Jokul goggled at us. “Exalted is broken in all the fun ways.”

“You literally sacrificed, and I quote ‘all of your fucks to give’, for necromancy.”

“That was your idea!”

Jokul turned toward Tyche, waiting for her to say something. She just held up her hands defensively. “I was a murder monk-bunny.”

Arthur snorted. “You were the Black Rabbit of Inle….”

“Well if my wife would have just stopped dying…!”

“At least none of us were the Platinum Knight who pissed his pants every time he confronted his favored enemy,” I laughed. “He never did live that one down. Every. Single. Dragon. He would crit fail his roles.”

“Oh, please,” Arthur intoned drily. “Did I ever tell you about the time one of my players managed to make ‘Notice me, Senpai’ into the most terrifying in-universe warcry imaginable?”

Charly choked before swatting his shoulder. “Not in front of my pasta. Please.”

Jokul, however, looked both horrified and intrigued, egging Arthur on. “Barbarian whose entire clan worshipped a god named The Senpai…. Just imagine, a barbarian in a rage, bellowing ‘NOTICE ME, SENPAI!!!’ before just scything down thirty men with a broadsword.”

At this point, I was laughing so hard that tears were rolling down my face. “Please, please tell me there was a kilt and pigtails involved….”

Jokul touched his own hair, before straightening as seriously as possible. “They are warrior’s braids, Councillor.”

That was it, I couldn’t take it anymore. I just put my head down on my folded arms and waiting to either pass out from laughing so hard or from exhaustion.  A few deep breaths and a spinning head later, I managed to wipe my face on my sleeve and realized the conversation was continuing without me.  Just as I was clearing my throat to let Jokul know he should be fine to start organizing something and to send me a rough outline, Arthur dealt the final blow.

Leaning over, he whispered over my shoulder. “By the way, the barbarian’s name was Drystan of the Doki-doki tribe.”

I was proud that I managed to get up and dash into the hallway before collapsing against the wall in maniacal laughter.  I barely registered Hannah’s voice behind me asking everyone at the table if I needed medical assistance, and that did not help.

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[scarasimplysimping]

These Books Of You Part 2

Xingqiu x Reader

Part 1

V

Sypnosis: A boy of noble blood and disciple to the Guhua Clan, Xingqiu has been reading books of the heroic adventures of an elusive adepti, [Y/N] ever since he was a little boy.

Now a bit older, he sets everything aside in a journey to meet you.

Xingqiu was scolded harshly when he returned but he could hardly focus. Xingqiu could think of nothing but you and how he kissed-

He burries his face in his hand in embarrassment.

"Stop that. What's wrong with you?" Chongyun asks, sitting cross-legged on Xingqiu's bed.

"Oh Dear Chongyun, I kissed their hand." He replies in a muffled voice.

"Disgusting."

"You are not helping!"

Chongyun snickers, "What are they like?"

"Perfect." He responds, almost instantly.

"You'll have to be more specific than that."

"They saved me."

"You have a broken arm." Chongyun points out.

"I fell down while climbing though it should heal in 8 weeks at most."

"Foolish."

"Worth it."

Chongyun slouches on the bed as Xingqiu continues to ramble about you.

The following day feels as if it was the longest for Xingqiu. He could not bear the anticipation for nightfall and made sure to check the clock in his bedroom every ten seconds.

Now, you've been at the statue of Pervases since afternoon, paying your respects.

Xingqiu knew where the statue was. The traveler, Aether informed him of this but also told him to be careful as there were lots of hostiles in the path.

Xingqiu encountered none. There was this tugging feeling at the back of his head saying you cleared them all just for him. Which you did.

He arrived at the area and saw you, sitting near the statue with your eyes closed. The young man stared at you, contemplating about how peaceful you looked.

"Are you going to keep staring or will you sit down?" You ask, not looking at him.

"Apologies. My liege- I mean (Y/N). I was merely captivated by your beauty once again."

You open your eyes, taking in his expression.

He was dead serious.

You feel your cheeks heat up and in an effort to maintain your composure, you abruptly stand up and turn your back to him. You've come to terms with the fact that Xingqiu is a man of impulse. This, you could admire.

He is confused but decides not to bring it up.

Silence.

When the awkwardness becomes uncomfortable, he speaks again, "Would you like me to read these books of you out loud? I mean they're very interesting but it's fine if you don't considering that you already know what has happened-"

"Do as you wish."

The swordsman finds a comfortable place to sit and pulls out a heavy book.

Well this was gonna be a long night.

Once he starts reading, you find yourself unable to tear away your focus from his soft voice. You've lived these memories in your own life, and some you didn't even want to relive but still, you're drawn in by his sweet, sweet voice.

The night is mostly like this. There is occasional small talk like 'that is not how it happened.' Or 'May you please explain this part to me in detail? I want to know how you felt during this battle.'

You find if difficult to hold your tongue when he asks. Even the painful memories become just nostalgic when you explain to him. Xingqiu also tries not to overstep the boundaries despite wanting to know every single detail.

Weeks pass enough so that his arm eventually heals. And even more. Though he only gets to see you one night out of seven moons, he feels as if you two grow a bond, an unbreakable one. And you felt it too.

"-So I paid for all the damage dear Chongyun caused!"

You chuckle at the story, pitying his friend.

Silence.

You look at Xingqiu, confused as to why he stopped telling his story.

"You... you laughed," He points out, amazed. "I made you laugh..."

His cheeks were tainted with a blush. You could almost swear you saw his soul ascend to heaven.

"Hmmm... perhaps it's because I find it easy, tolerating your company. Maybe at times, I enjoy it," You say to stroke his ego a little .

"How did you get your vision?" He asks, eying the vision you had.

"Well... I used to be a mortal," You start, staring off into the distance.

The boy's eyes widen with curiosity and amazement, "I never knew of this! It's not mentioned in any of the books..."

"I never told anyone... Except now."

Xingqiu felt honored to be the first one you'd share your story with in thousands of years.

Suddenly, you question yourself.

Why were you so comfortable with him? Did he do some sort of sorcery on you? Why were you so important to him? Why was he so important to you? These thoughts raced in your head you could not think straight. Eons of slaughter did this to you. It broke you. Maybe it's just paranoia or all the lives you took finally taking a toll on you, giving you your own demons that prevented you from having nice things.

"How long will you stay with me?"

"Forever."

Liar

"No... Nevermind," You say, once again building your walls around yourself. The walls he tried so desperately to tear down.

Xingqiu frowns, "Why?"

You stay silent.

"(Y/N), you should not bear all your burden alone forever," He says, reaching out for your hand as if asking for your trust.

You don't accept it.

"It's not your place," You say in a stoic tone.

"But I'm your friend aren't I?"

His question is once again returned with silence.

"(Y/N), please I know how you feel-"

You feel yourself snap and say things you didn't even mean, "You know nothing of how I feel and you aren't my friend. You're merely an annoying mortal who wants to befriend me because you... you pity me. I disappointed you! I was not as heroic as those books say but you're too afraid to tell me-"

"(Y/N), none of that is true!" He grabs your shoulders, forcing you into eye contact, only then Xingqiu notices the tears, streaming down your cheeks.

He wonders what happened for you to be this reserved. Everyone always has a turning point. How long must you have yearned for someone to share the pain with you? How many times did they fail you? He was here now. You could trust him. He was prepared to wait. If you could just give him a chance, show him a sign, he would do anything for you because he

"I love you," Xingqiu whispers, wiping your tears away.

It was beautiful. The night, how the stars perfectly reflected in his eyes. The way he cups your cheeks with his slender hands. The way you felt as if you could just melt in his touch. The quiet. The moon. The relationship-

But every relationship had it's problems.

And in this one, it was you.

"You mean nothing to me. Just a face I'll forget after five hundred years," You say coldly, looking him straight in the eyes before vanishing from his sight.

"Forever."

Liar. Liar. Liar

Reality hits Xingqiu like a bucket of cold water. Of course. Of course he was just a human waving his fancy little sword around. He tried so desperately to gain your approval, pathetic as a clown. The Archons were probably laughing their heads off at how foolish he had been.

Xingqiu scoffs at himself, first he starts laughing, though that quickly turns into full blown sobs.

He's glad you left so you would not have to witness him in this shameful state.

But you didn't leave. You were still there. Just invisible to him. You wanted to make sure he got home safely. Quite ironic considering the only one that had posed real danger to him, was you.

Weeks pass with no sign of Xingqiu. You grew more and more restless and empty by the day. The adeptus noticed. Morax noticed.

"(Y/N), do you wish to become a mortal again?" He asked you one afternoon.

"You... you can do that?"

"You can," He replies. "Your vision was given to you along with your immortality when we made the contract."

Then suddenly, you understood what had to be done.

The other adeptus were surprisingly supportive of your decision. Even Xiao mentioned how he envied you for having a choice.

It felt weird to walk in the streets of Liyue Harbor. You have not visited this place since the time it was nothing but a wasteland of vengeful gods yet now the city was lively. Their were children running around and playing, street vendors attracting customers, lovers walking hand in hand. All this was fruit of your victories of war, was it not? Would it be such a sin to enjoy it?

Your thoughts are cut short when you feel someone grab you and harshly pull you into an alleyway.

"Xingqiu?" Was your first thought.

"We couldn't be more different."

You turn to the voice and find a light haired male, matching the description as someone in Xingqiu's stories.

"Chongyun."

He nods, seemingly unamused, then he glares, "What did you say to Xingqiu?"

"Hurtful things I shouldn't have," You admit, wincing at the memory.

Chongyun sees the glint of guilt in your eyes, "Well you better fix it."

"Where can I find him?"

You shock him with your eagerness. Perhaps... you weren't so bad Chongyun thought.

He brings you to Xingqiu's residence.

"Climb the window," He says. "I'll wait here. He won't talk to me."

Xingqiu mentioned a strict household once but you never expected that the only way out was sneaking through a window, though.

You, despite eons of combat training, quite clumsily stumble into the room.

There was no sign of Xingqiu... other than the uneven lump, the shape of Xingqiu under the blankets.

"Go away, Chongyun." He says, in a rather raspy voice.

You feel extremely guilty again. You caused this. This was your fault. Maybe he was better of without you-

No. No. These were the kind of thoughts that put you both in this situation in the first place. You were no longer going to listen to them.

"It's me, Xingqiu," Finally announcing yourself.

You here a small gasp but after that, nothing more.

Not knowing where to start or what to say, you settle on continuing the conversation that got cut off by your paranoid thoughts last time.

"I was once a mortal."

"Why are you still here? Don't you have someone else's heart to break?"

Well... at least now he was talking.

You decide to continue talking.

"I had a lover."

A yaksha. A strong and kind yaksha. A most gentle and lively man who never failed to save lives and vanquish foes. He always told you of his dreams to serve the geo archon and bring peace to the land.

"How long will you stay with me?" You ask, playing with his hair.

"Forever."

But he lied.

He fell victim to corruption after all the blood had been spilled and all the sins had been sinned.

He went on a rampage, destroying everything he came across and killing anyone who stood in his way. Innocent or sinner.

Except for you.

So you were the one to put an end to it all as you quite literally pierced an arrow through his heart.

And you regretted it. Inconsolable, you were.

Morax took pity on you and offered you what had been your lover's dream to serve, his powers, and eternal life.

"This vision isn't mine, Xingqiu. It's his," You finish the story, grasping the electro vision tightly.

"Xingqiu, I owe you an apology. I'm not exactly stable. I thought I didn't deserve nice things. I thought... I thought that by loving you, I would doom one of us to infinite suffering while the other, death," You admit, tearfully. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I-"

His arms wrap around your waist. It's almost scary how you didn't notice him get up and make his way toward you how low your guard was.

"I love you, Xingqiu."

"I love you too, (Y/N)."

"Miss (Y/N)," Chongyun calls out, when he passes by you in the street one day.

"I don't know if this means anything to you... but your vision seems to be at peace. I cannot explain this either. It has an aura as if it were alive."

You hold the hilt of your sword, aiming it at the vision that was currently on the ground.

Xingqiu places a kiss on your cheek before stepping back. "Whenever you're ready."

Months past after your reconciliation with him. The both of you have been happy together ever since.

The only way for you to become mortal again was to destroy the thing that bound you to immortality. The vision.

When you first told Xingqiu, he was hesitant. To think you'd give up your powes and eternal life just to grow old with him. But this was your choice. You spent years taking lives and saving them. Now you just wanted to take back your own. To live your own.

You inhale sharply and with all your force, bring the sword down.

It shatters the vision into a thousand glistening pieces. Sorrowful yet calm and beautiful. You had long forgiven the yaksha. And it seems he, you.

Xingqiu snakes a hand around your waist and  pulls you so that you're facing him. You inch your face closer to his and kiss him, it was a long kiss that left you out of breath. The kind of kiss that told you everything would be alright. The kind you read about in books.

"How long will you stay with me?" He asks.

"Forever."

And there were no lies this time.

[opheliasbrokenmind]

heartbreaker - tommy shelby

hiiii, i’m back on my obsession with this man... i was going to write something short but then i couldn’t control myself and this happened. let me know your thoughts, feedback is always welcomed <3 

and idk what kind of writing is this, since i find it hard & scary to write a full one shot but i know this isn’t a hc or drabble as well, i only hope you enjoy it :)) and i’m free for three weeks and i’m waiting for your tommy requests as always

gif is not mine, credits to the owner

being the most reckless teenage girl in small heath, it wasn’t a surprise you hung out with the blue-eyed princess, ada shelby

it all started when you were barely ten, going to the same school

soon you were sharing a desk and tons of laughs

even the teachers failed to make you silent. if they tried to separate you two, you’d cause a huge mess in the classroom

spending time at shelbys after a long school day, chatting all afternoon in her room, ada complaining about her brothers and you giggling at her words

one day you laid your hands on a book and it was it, you were telling stories to ada all day long

you started talking about how small the small heath really was, a tiny world which you decided to leave the first chance you got

then you were fifteen, a young soul with wildness, searching for every kind of trouble possible 

ada on your arm, going on dates with boys you knew from school, sneaking out all the time

but ada wasn’t the same, thanks to her overprotective brothers. they believed you were a bad influence for her but your souls were bonded

and that never stopped john from taking you out a night, getting you a drink and kissing your lips 

you weren’t looking for a strong relationship and neither did he so it was just a few days and a few more kisses, none of the family members knowing it - or you both thought that

you were hanging out with a boy for a few months, then you were over it in a day. next week, you were going to pictures with another guy, laughing and enjoying your life

ada insisted you spent many nights with her, you girls talking about everything and by the time you were seventeen, you thought her older brother tommy looked quite good

one night you woke up, walking downstairs to have a glass of water and there he was, sipping tea in the middle of the night

‘what are you doing, tom?’ you asked, your eyes still trying to adjust to the light as you frowned, wondering if something was wrong

‘i’m thinking. care to join me for a cup of tea?’ he suggested and well, who were you to say no?

you took the chair next to him and watched him bringing you a cup and pouring you hot tea. the view seemed and felt too regular to you, you’ve seen him doing the same for his siblings for thousand times

just before you reached for the sugar, he leaned forward and put the exact amount of sugar you used. you didn’t say anything as he looked at you, you watched his fingers holding the hot cup, knuckles almost white

‘what are you thinking?’ you asked shyly, you weren’t so close with him unlike other shelbys. john was a friend, arthur was like a brother but tommy? you didn’t know what was he to you

he was the brother who tried to keep ada on the line and you were the distracter. the young, reckless friend filled with passion for everything. you were excited about books, boys and anything life had to offer you

‘the war, the soldiers’ he said like he was talking about the weather

‘what? you’re not thinking about going there, are you?’ you frowned immediately, leaning in to look directly into his eyes

‘i don’t know, feels like i should be there like the other boys’ he said the truth and you grabbed his wrist, an annoyed look plastered on your face ‘are you serious? don’t act like a fool, tom’

his name sounded harsh on your lips, like the times he spotted you and ada at the pub, taking you back home as you resisted. even though he was seven years older than you, you were never afraid to say his name as you wished

‘do you think it’s a joke, y/n?’ he asked, his blue orbs focused on you, ignoring your glued fingers on his arm

‘your family needs you here, not in a shithole in france. you’ll go there and what? that’ll prove something to the people? or you’ll end up as a man with no grave? leaving these people here just with pain?’ you hissed, glaring at him as you let go of his arm

‘you speak like i don’t care about them. i want to protect this country so they’ll be safe’ he explained calmly

‘you can’t leave them’ you said but it came out as a whisper, you almost said ‘us’ instead of ‘them’. tommy watched you staring at the tea and he tried to guess what was going on inside your head

‘as if you like me, y/n’ he faked a smile in an attempt to cheer you a bit but it only made you angrier, ‘fuck you, tom’ you hoped he didn’t see the blush rising to your cheeks and turned your head away from him

‘that’s not what you’ve said to john, huh?’ he couldn’t control the words so when you heard him, your lips parted with surprise. ‘i don’t have to defend myself to you, that was two years ago’

‘i saw you two, then you broke his heart’ he let it out and you didn’t know what to say, ‘it wasn’t something serious and that was before martha, he looks very happy now’

‘that’s just what you do, right? breaking hearts and moving on’ his words caught you off guard and you thought he was trying to change the war subject. if he wanted to argue, you were up for it

‘it’s not my problem if boys are that fragile. maybe they should, you know, grow up’ you said simply, waiting for another smart answer

‘grow up and what, break your heart?’ he asked back and you found yourself smiling, ‘oh, no. i’m the heartbreaker here. they should look for a girl who’ll marry them and stand them’

‘wise words for a little girl’ he said as he smiled, a real one this time. ‘little girl? i’m almost eighteen and i remember, your girlfriend isn’t too older than me’ with the mention of greta, his smile fell off and you could tell something was wrong

‘what’s wrong, is she okay?’ you asked and waited impatiently for an answer. ‘she’s sick, i-’ he stopped and shook his head slowly, ‘i don’t know what to do, she’s not getting better, just worse and.. her parents don’t let me see her’

‘i’m so sorry’ you managed to say and when he looked at you, he knew you meant it. ‘why didn’t you tell....’ you were going to ask if the other shelbys knew but it sounded ridiculous in your head

‘i don’t know how to. whatever, i shouldn’t have told you, too’

‘you know, i’m not your enemy. yet it looks like you’re searching for more, huh?’ he was thinking of an answer but you weren’t waiting for one, you got up and walked to the stairs, leaving him with his thoughts

that was the last time tommy saw you, you disappeared for the next days and soon he found out from ada, your aunt passed away and you moved to london with your mom

unlike her shy, sweet sister greta, kitty jurossi was outgoing and she happened to be a friend of a friend of yours. before you left for london, you managed to persuade your mother to go and speak to her family

with that, tommy shelby was allowed to stand by his first love and hold her hand for three months until she closed her eyes and never opened them again

days after her funeral, he’d learn the reason why her parents let him stay with her. then he signed up for war, leaving without looking back. in the end, there was nothing for him to stay

meanwhile, you were discovering the london, meeting with new people and trying not to think of small heath. of course, you were missing your best friend but ada and you both knew you’d escape the small town with the first chance you got

ada’s response to your letter arrived months later, letting you know greta was dead and the shelby men were in france, fighting for the king

it made you sick for days, unfamiliar nausea bothering you all day, making your whole body ache. you were worried for the shelby men you grew up with and for the women waiting for their family

the war continued mercilessly and at some point you even thought about writing the boys a letter but you didn’t know what to say after leaving them without a word

then it was all over. ada wrote to you, telling you they all returned yet everything was different now. the way tommy turned and the lack of sincerity in john’s smiles. he used to laugh, you thought

you were living on your own in london when you got another letter from ada, it was bad news. apparently freddie was dead, which made you cry on the carpet on your hallway, remembering the boy ada used to talk about years ago. ‘now it’s just me and karl, y/n. i’m leaving this hell, probably coming to london’

but she forgot to give you a new address and you never dared to write to shelbys, asking about ada. you guessed they didn’t hear from her as well, since she left with a broken heart and rage

one day you couldn’t find a book at the bookshop so you made your way to the library, looking for a worker to help you. there she was, the best friend you ever had

‘ada?’ you asked and it was it, you were reunited. spending days talking about everything that happened after you left with lots of hugs, glasses of wine and cups of tea

you started to spend most of the week at her house and of course, karl loved you. it was as if you never parted away, you were happy again

she learned you were continuing your career as a heartbreaker with londoners. ‘heartbreaker, huh? is there anyone nowadays, y/n sweetheart?’

‘oh no, i used to hang around with a writer. he was saying i was his muse all the time and you know, it’s nice to hear things like that. then he left the fucking country, saying he wasn’t productive with all the noise in the city’

‘someone sounds angry’ she teased and you laughed, ‘i was but i don’t care much. i mean, i couldn’t leave here and move to the countryside, raising chickens. i need the wildness in this crazy city’

soon you were going to the parties together, good looking men and booze surrounding you all the time

it was your birthday when you went to have dinner at a nice restaurant, then met with your other friends in a nightclub

you would say both of you could handle your drinks but when it was almost midnight, you thought ‘fuck it, we can mess for once’ then the rest of it was a little bit blurry

you could remember the girls dropping you to ada’s flat and ada going to her room. you lit a cigarette and once it was finished, you thought how soft was the carpet at the living room. even it was an uncomfortable surface, you slept like a baby

that’s why you didn’t hear the knock on the door. then with a little force, it opened. thomas shelby walked in, cursing underneath his breath 

he stepped in and saw a body laying on the ground, a woman, wearing a short silk dress and tommy walked to her with fear, his heartbeat quickening

then he realised it was you, after all those years. you were breathing, thank god. so he gently shook you, ‘y/n’ your name sounded like a pray on his lips

you sighed and opened your eyes slowly, only to see a man kneeling beside you and that man happened to have a face of a ghost from your past, tommy shelby himself

‘tom?’ you asked and you thought it didn’t feel real. ‘i’m still that drunk, huh?’ you chuckled softly but when you looked again, he was still there

‘it’s not a dream, y/n. i’m here and i see, you haven’t changed, not even a bit’ he sounded kinda angry, frustrated because the state he found you in

you frowned and watched him, ‘and here i was, thinking i got prettier’ he rolled his eyes but soon enough you were both smiling

‘you are’ he let it out and you stared at him, ‘that means i wasn’t pretty back then?’ this time his smile was wider, ‘i didn’t say that’ it was surprising you both, you were talking like you weren’t strangers now

it was weird yet comforting, familiar just like the last time you spoke, years ago. you could see he was a man now, a beautiful one with hands covered with blood you couldn’t see

and there you were, he thought. still a heartbreaker with an angel’s face

[acciowests]

From Lorcan With Love

WORD COUNT: 1707

SUMMARY: A "From Lukov With Love" inspired ice hockey x figure skating AU featuring Lorcan Salvaterre and Elide Lochan from "Throne Of Glass"

Lorcan and Rowan arrive early for training and walk in on a figure skater finishing her session. It isn't until she falls that Lorcan rushes forward, helping up the woman he learns is called Elide and immediately begins to fall for her charms.

"You know, you didn't have to wake me up this early, right?" Rowan drawled as they pulled into the Orynth Rink parking lot. With their first game of the season taking place next Friday, Lorcan Salvaterre - Goalkeeper of the Terrasen High Hawks - had booked out the rink for three whole hours of practice. Along with being Lorcan's best friend, Rowan Whitethorn was also the captain of the Hawks, their school's ice hockey team. Despite having napped for most of their journey, Rowan's brows were furrowed in a tired frown, his lips in a thin line as he stretched in his seat.

The capital's Ice Rink mainly housed ice skating: including singles figure skating, pairs ice dancing, as well as the annual sectional competitions and sometimes the national one also. None of that meant much to Lorcan, he just knew the Orynth Rink also showcased professional Hockey Teams, such as the Orynth Stags; a team he had dreamt of being a part of since he started his ice hockey journey at seven-years-old.

"Stop complaining, old man," Lorcan chuckled, smirking at the silver-haired boy. "Get the bags from the trunk will you?"

Sticking up his middle finger noncommittally, letting it fall into his lap, Rowan climbed out of the car, rounding toward the back of the vehicle. Lorcan switched off the engine and stepped outside. Grabbing the gym bag full of their gear, Rowan hauled it over his shoulder as Lorcan locked the car, the two boys walking through the parking lot and toward the rink.

The changing room was empty, as Lorcan expected, and the two boys changed in comfortable silence. They pulled on their team jerseys: deep green with silver writing that displayed their name and number. Paired with sweatpants and their elbow and shoulder pads, as well as their shin guards, the boys shoved their bags into the lockers, along with their phones, and headed out to the rink. Walking off the ice with skates on had always felt weird, even with the skate guards that protected the blade. Heading down into the stadium, Lorcan's eyes locked onto the lone figure skater within the rink. The clock overhead told him she still had fifteen minutes left, which meant he and Rowan had fifteen minutes of waiting.

Slumping down into a seat, Lorcan set his elbows against his knees, leaning forward and watching the petite, raven-haired girl dance across the ice. Beside him, Rowan drummed his feet lazily, Lorcan ignoring him completely as he listened to the sound of her blade across the ice.

When, and if, he saw figure skaters, they were always wearing glittery costumes in shades of reds, purples and blues. And though he was sure most skaters did dress down for practice, the girl before him looked like she dressed in the dark. Which, if she had booked a three hour practise, she just might have. Ignoring the grey leggings and burgundy sweater showing a Perranth Skating Club logo, she skated as though she was in front of thousands. Each turn was sharp but smooth, each of her jumps or leaps landing perfectly - to Lorcan's untrained eye, anyway.

"I was thinking we could do some new drills. As captain, I reckon we have a good shot this season. I think we could rank high, come out on top," Rowan started, interrupting Lorcan's gaze.

"Right, yeah. If the others even get here," Lorcan sighed, not that he minded. He was much enjoying his time watching the beautiful skater.

"Chill out, Lor. There's still five minutes, they'll be here," Rowan insisted, nudging Lorcan's shoulder.

Shrugging, Lorcan turned to face the rink, just in time to watch the skater turn back into a jump. She took off from the back outside edge of her skate, using her toe pick to help her spin twice, and just as her foot hit the ice, her ankle gave way. An echoing thud rang out around them as she hit the floor, her thigh and butt slamming down onto the ice as she fell.

Before he even realised what he was doing, Lorcan stood, rushing down the rows of seats and towards the rink. Removing his skate guards and tossing them to the side, Lorcan stepped onto the ice, skating over to the girl who was now curled up, a hand against her thigh and stretching a leg out before her.

"Hey, you okay?" Lorcan called, coming to a stop beside her and offering her a hand, "That looked like a pretty nasty fall."

The girl chuckled, rubbing her thigh once more and taking his hand. Her palm was surprisingly soft, cold enough to send a shiver through him as she gripped tightly. Hoisting her up, Lorcan didn't miss the wince that slipped between her lips. Before he could say anything, she shook her head, "It's fine, it's just my ankle."

As she stood before him, Lorcan tried not to smirk at the immense height difference between them. At least a whole foot. Instead, he just nodded, "Well, that jump looked pretty hard. From what I've seen you're a pretty good skater. You shouldn't let one fall get you down."

"Not good enough. I should be able to do that jump in my sleep. There's no way I'm going to win sectionals like this," she sighed, running a hand through her hair. Her left hand, Lorcan realised, was still in his. She hadn't put her ankle back down onto the ice, instead, she rested it against her other foot, off the ground where there was no pressure on it.

"What happened? Is it just a strain?" Lorcan asked, hoping he wasn't being too curious. His eyes were drawn to the flush of her cheeks, bright red against the pale shading of the rest of her face. With her mop of black hair against glowing skin, she looked ethereal.

"I wish," she scoffed, "No, I broke it a few years ago and it never healed properly. I lost my axel completely, had to relearn my entire program and make all the moves easier. I already lost regionals, I can't afford to lose sectionals too," she explained, her chest rising and falling.

"Well, how long until sectionals? Maybe with some assistance, and physiotherapy on your ankle, you might be able to win?" Lorcan suggested, watching the girl's eyebrows slowly furrow as she looked up at him. They were thick and black, arching over her face and defining it fiercely.

"You don't know when sectionals are?" she asked, as though it was the most obvious question in the world.

Lorcan chuckled, shaking his head, "Oh, no. I'm not a skater. I play ice hockey."

The girl blinked, her eyes widening, "Oh... Oh my god, I'm so sorry. You probably have no idea what I was just talking about, do you?"

Lorcan couldn't help but laugh, loving the way the girl's lips curled into a smile as he did so, "No, but it's fine. I can tell you're very dedicated. I'm Lorcan, by the way, Terrasen High Hawks."

"Terrasen High? Wait, Lorcan as in Lorcan Salvaterre?" she asked, brows raising. Lorcan knew he recognised her. He could have sworn she was in the year below him, he would remember her face anywhere.

"The one and only. You're a junior, right?" he replied, helping her skate back across the rink and toward the entrance. She reached for her skate guards as he remained on the ice. Slipping his hand to her elbow, he helped her balance as she stepped back onto the stone ground.

"Right. Elide Lochan, Perranth skating club," she smiled, sticking her hand out. Lorcan shook it happily, loving the warmth that radiated from her like electricity.

"Perranth is lucky to have you represent them," Lorcan smirked, biting down on his bottom lip. There was something about the girl before him, something that made him feel completely giddy inside. If his teammates saw him like this...

Elide rolled her eyes. Chocolate, Lorcan noticed, the perfect shade of swirly hazelnut. "Now you're just being kind!" she laughed, a melodic sound that he wished he could capture forever, "Thanks, by the way, for helping me up. I probably would have just laid there until my session was over."

Lorcan grinned, something he didn't do too often, "Well, you're lucky I was here. Couldn't have you catching a cold, can we?  I heard hypothermia is a killer."

Pressing her lips together, Elide shook her head slowly, "No, I suppose we can't."

With an obnoxious slam, the doors to the rink swung open. The remainder of his team poured out, dressed and ready for their training session. A blur of green and silver, plus the grey, black and navy blue of Adidas sweatpants. Gavriel was at the front, the oldest on the team, his golden hair tied back in a bun and a grin on his face as he reached Rowan.

Rowan stood, patting Gavriel's shoulder and moving down the rows of chairs. "Lorcan," he called, heading toward the equipment cupboard in the corner of the rink, "Help me get the stuff out!"

They always borrowed sticks and pucks from whatever rink they were training at. Lorcan only used his own stick for final games, an object of good luck. They would also have to drag the goals out, setting them up to actually have something to shoot at.

Offering Lorcan a smile, Elide stepped back, rocking on her good foot, "So, I guess I'll see you around then?"

If he had his phone to hand, he would have asked for her number right there and then. But, he didn't. As she turned to walk up the steps toward the changing rooms, Lorcan called, "We have a game next Friday, will you be there?"

Elide stopped, looking over her shoulder and smirking, "Depends, are you inviting me?"

Pushing down the chuckle that tickled his throat, Lorcan nodded, "I am, and maybe we could hang out afterwards... Just the two of us?"

"Sure, sounds fun. See you Friday, then," Elide confirmed, turning almost immediately and rushing up the stairs.

Lorcan watched until she completely disappeared from view. He could smell the cinnamon and elderberries scent that lingered in her wake. Elide Lochan. Friday couldn't come sooner.

* * *

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[iliveiloveiwrite]

Butterbeer and BonBons // S.B. (celebration fic)

Request: C O N G R A T U L A T I O N S ON 1.25K 🥳🥳🥳 You deserve this and I love your fics so much! I’m not sure if this is right but, may I please have Sirius with Misc. 2, 3, and 4 in Hogsmeade? Thank youu! 💙 - @inkhearthes

Misc 2: “I wasn't sure which flavour you liked so I got all of them.”

Misc 3: “What happened?”

Misc 4: “You’re giving me a headache.”

A/N: I cannot apologise enough for how long this has taken me. Honestly, there aren't enough words to tell you how sorry I am, but thank you for your sweet words. This is honestly self indulgent fluff that has more pining in it than any form of a plot but it’s been a long week so forgive me please.

Warnings: THIS FOCUSES A LOT ON CHOCOLATE AND SWEETS. BE AWARE OF MENTIONS OF FOOD. Some swearing, pining, mutual pining, so much fluff your teeth will rot, teenagers in love, teenage angst

Word count: 3.5k

It wasn’t often that the long haired Marauder offered his services as a tutor; it wasn’t often for the fact that he simply didn’t want to help anyone outside of his friends. For you, however, he would drop all his plans to spend an evening with you recalling the events of the Gargoyle Strike of 1911.

For you, Sirius would happily accept the teasing and the jokes from his friends. For you, Sirius would happily sit through the dullest of lectures. It hadn’t been long since Sirius realised his feelings for you; his affection for you taking him by surprise but soon settling deep within him, becoming part of his very being as he watched and admired you from afar.

The library had long since emptied; the last two students being you and Sirius this close to curfew. It had been hours since you had stepped outside the large, cavernous room, wanting nothing more than to overcome the troublesome essay that had been set by Professor Binns. It had been hours since you started; hours since you had taken your designated seat next to Sirius and began your work.

This long in, a headache was starting to form behind your eyes, making it increasingly hard to focus. “You’re giving me a headache, Sirius,” You moan, rubbing your temples with two fingers as Sirius pauses his mini-lecture to take a breath.

Sirius laughs, closing his books, “That’s enough studying then.”

You smile gratefully at the long haired marauder, “Thank you for helping me, I know you aren’t the biggest fan of this subject.”

“No,” He states dryly, “I can’t say I’m Professor Binn’s biggest fan.”

“Still,” You sigh, “You didn’t have to help, but you did, so thank you.”

Sirius shakes his head, dismissing your gratitude. He would have helped you regardless; he didn’t need to extra credit for being a tutor nor did he care much for it. He just wanted to help you; he would always help you.

You roll your eyes, smiling at him as you begin to close the masses of leather bound books surrounding you. Book after book had been pulled from the shelves as you started to get to the crux of your essay, and now you wanted to groan at the task of putting them back in their rightful place.

“Fancy a trip?” Sirius asks suddenly; mischief shining bright in his eyes, personified further by the growing smirk on his lips.

You raise an eyebrow, placing the last book on its correct shelf. “That depends,” You state warily, “What did you have in mind?”

His smirk grows larger; he leans forward, resting his forearms on the table, “Shall we go to Hogsmeade?”

You immediate reaction is to laugh. It wasn’t a Hogsmeade weekend, and it wouldn’t be for another two weeks. “How are we going to Hogsmeade when it isn’t a Hogsmeade weekend, Sirius?”

Sirius shakes his head; refusing to answer your question. Instead, he stands, holding out a hand for you to take. “Do you trust me?” He asks; voice full of sincerity.

Wordlessly, you nod, taking his hand and letting him lead you from the library. He doesn’t let loose as he leads you to the staircase; stepping onto one and letting it lead the way.

“What?” You smile; leaning closer to him on instinct, wanting to know the joke that has him grinning like a fool.

Sirius shakes his head, “I just can’t believe I got you to sneak about the castle with me. You’ve never done something this bad.”

“Sirius!” You shout; tapping his shoulder gently, “I can be bad.”

Sirius doubles over; laughter pouring out of him almost uncontrollably. You stand next to him, waiting with crossed arms and an even crosser facial expression. “Sirius!” You shout once more; this time with anger lacing your tone, “What’s so funny?”

Sirius straightens up; dramatically wiping away any and all non-existent tears, “Just the idea that you can be bad, love. How many house points have you lost in our seven years of Hogwarts?”

You purse your lips, not enjoying having the fun picked out of you. “None,” You confirm, “Unlike some people.”

Sirius quirks an eyebrow at your pointed words. He shouldn’t, but he likes how easily he gets under your skin. He enjoys riling you up, getting you worked up. It gives him hope that he affects you just as much as you affect him; that perhaps his feelings for you are not unrequited after all, that you do in fact harbour some romantic feelings for him after all. He would think it a miracle, but he thinks it, nonetheless.

“This way,” He murmurs, pulling you in the direction of the one-eyed witch statue.

You repress the urge to slow your steps, holding nothing but blind faith in Sirius that he isn’t going to lead you on a path that could cause trouble. You begin to frown as you approach the one-eyed witch statue; her stance and eerie gaze enough to make you uncomfortable in the daytime. However, as evening descends, her gaze becomes close to terrifying.

“Why are we here, Sirius? I thought we were going to Hogsmeade?”

He nods towards the statues, another smile breaking across his face, “That’s how we’re getting to Hogsmeade.”

You eye the statues; the size of it compared to the size of you both has you doubting Sirius’ sanity somewhat. “How exactly?”

Sirius nudges your shoulder with his before dropping your hand, “Are you ready?”

You nod eagerly; desperate to know just how this statue would be your key to the small village outside of the grounds of the school. Sirius steps towards the statue with the air of someone who had done this a thousand times before, if not more.

Straining your hearing, you just about make out the word whispered by Sirius, “Dissendium.”

There’s a creaking noise first; then the grinding noise of stone against stone as you watch the back of the one-eyed witch open, revealing a passageway big enough for two. Sirius turns to you, a shit-eating grin on his face as he takes in your gobsmacked expression. He gestures to the hole in the back of the witch, “After you.”

--------

Popping up out of the floor, you recognise your location by scent alone. The overwhelming scent of sugar and chocolate had you guessing you were underneath Honeyduke’s sweet shop. Brushing down your robes, you turn to the teenager who waits for your reaction, “Honeyduke’s?”

“Honeyduke’s,” He confirms, striding confidently towards the door. A nervous whimper leaving your mouth has him freezing in place. “Love?” He asks.

“We can’t just go out there!” You argue, “What if we’re seen? What if we’re caught and marched back to the castle? We could get expelled for this!”

“I doubt it,” Sirius states, a smile in his voice, “I’ve been coming here for years and haven’t been caught since.”

You fold your arms; glaring at the long haired Marauder, “Gee, thanks, that fills me with so much confidence.”

Sirius marches back to you. He places both hands gently on either side of your face, “Love, would I have risked bringing you here if I thought we were going to get caught?”

“No?” You state, but your voice raises at the end, making it more of a question.

“No,” Sirius confirms, “I would never risk you, so let’s have a nice evening and some fun. What do you think?”

You hesitate; teeth worrying your bottom lip as you glance between the teenager who has nothing but sincerity in his eyes and smile, and the hole in the ground that would lead you to sure safety but boredom.

“Love?” Sirius prompts, “If you don’t want to do this, we can head straight back.”

You shake your head; the continued use of that term of endearment combined with your want and need to spend time with him has your heart winning over your mind. You step past him, facing him over your shoulder, “Are you coming or what?”

His answering grin is enough for you to know you’ve made the right decision.

-----

Despite the sickly sweet scent that often gave you a headache, Honeyduke’s was one of your favourite shops in Hogsmeade. It had such a wonderful atmosphere and the sweets created were nothing short of genius. It had become tradition after your third visit to the shop in your Third Year to stock up on Chocolate Frogs and Fizzing Whizzbees, however, this time you didn’t have your stash of sugary treats in mind.

A floor to ceiling shelf was dedicated to the craft of Honeyduke’s. The chocolate created by the owner being famous across the wizarding world for its creaminess but also its extent of flavours. Heading immediately there, you fix your gaze on the brightly coloured labels, pondering the best tasting flavours.

Sirius joins you; eyes pouring over the countless bars of chocolate. “What shall we do now that we’re here?”

You tap a finger to your cheek as you continue to read the labels, admitting shyly, “I’m not too sure. I’m surprised I’m here.”

Sirius laughs, “It’s surprised me too.”

You nod towards the door, “I’ll meet you outside? I just want to buy something.”

Sirius smiles down at you as he nods, “I’ll be out by the bench across the street.”

You don’t take very long once Sirius leaves; the bell above the door chiming as he goes. You grab a handful of bars from the shelves; making sure to pick an array of flavours and drop them on the counter. The worker eyes your robes but doesn’t say anything as he rings you up, placing the delicious sweets in a paper bag and handing it to you.

Spying Sirius where he said he would be, you rush to his side, already feeling the harshness of the howling wind. “I wasn’t sure what flavour you liked so I got all of them,” You comment lightly, hoping not to make a big deal over what you had done for the teenager you had a crush on.

Sirius laughs – his real laugh; a happy sound that brings a grin to your face as it was a sound so few heard and those that did, treasured. You felt fortunate that you could now be included in the select few.

He takes the bag from you, already smelling the sweet scent of the chocolate in the bag. “What have you bought?” He asks, voice teasing.

You grin up at him; wishing you had a camera in this moment to capture the curious look on his face. All his expressions should be captured, you think, everything about him should be immortalised on film. You shake your head, “I splurged a little.”

He opens the bag; curiosity getting the better of him as his mouth begins to water at the rich scent of dark chocolate. “Honeyduke’s chocolate?”

You nod your head, “I overheard you and Remus saying you had finished your stash. I thought it would be an apt opportunity to start that stash back up when you brought me here.”

Unexpectedly, Sirius surges forward, pressing a kiss to your cheek. Your face heats immediately, unable to truly comprehend the way it feels. It feels too good; it feels like something you want him to do again, over and over for however long possible.

He clears his throat, rubbing a hand across the back of his neck, slightly embarrassed at his sudden show of affection, “Thank you. I didn’t expect that.”

You wave away his gratitude as he had done earlier with you. “I wish we had time to grab warmer robes,” You shiver; rubbing your arms to warm up some as you trundle through the ankle deep snow. You bite your bottom lip, looking down at your snow covered feet, thinking that by the time you return to the castle with Sirius in tow, there was a very good chance that the snowfall will have increased.

Sirius snorts, throwing an arm around your shoulders and tugging you to his side. The simple, unthought action has you warming up considerably; not expecting this form of affection from Sirius in the slightest. His hand rubs your upper arm; the friction and his proximity warming you up faster that you realise.

“Come on,” He starts; nodding his head towards the popular meet up for Hogwarts students, “Let’s grab you a butterbeer and warm up slightly.”

“My saviour,” You comment; a wry smile on your slips as you let him usher you into The Three Broomsticks. Like the gentleman he has been raised to be, Sirius holds the door open to the tavern open for you, his cheeks aflame as he realises how much he likes being called your saviour even if it was said sarcastically.

Grabbing a booth close to the roaring fire, Sirius leaves you with a warm smile as he heads to the bar. Madame Rosmerta had spotted him when he walked in; she had smiled at him broadly before her eyes widened when she saw you. Sirius is immediately dragged into an interrogation at the bar whilst you’re left at the booth, warming your hands by the flames of the large fire.

The longer Sirius remains at the bar, the louder the whispers get from the booth next to you. Filled with students from your year but ones you had never spoken to before, you shuffled down in your seat, close to burying your face in your robes and wishing to melt away like the snow. Their laughter rings in your ears, and you know it isn’t from a joke freshly told but rather at your expense.

Their laughter makes some sense. The evening so far hadn’t made any sense. Sirius had been tutoring you in History of Magic for weeks; happily volunteering to the task when asked by Professor Binns. However, his sudden want to spend time with you outside of school wasn’t wholly understandable, and it did very little to help you curb your growing feelings for the long haired Marauder.

They weren’t the sort of feelings that crept up on you overnight; surprising you and leaving you breathless. No – these feelings had been there a long time, simmering away in the recesses of your mind where Sirius often featured as the main character of your daydreams. Not long after the start of your tutoring sessions did you come to see how easy it was to fall for the charms of the Marauder. His easy smile and his bright eyes; his charming personality and his sharp wit. All perfect contributors for a gut wrenching, heart clenching crush.

Two steins of butterbeer land on the table, snapping you out of your ponderings; foam splashing down the sides, creating a small puddle on the age old wooden table. Sirius swears lightly; rushing to grab napkins to sop up the mess before sitting down across from you, taking a large swig of his drink.

“What happened? You’re quieter now than before I left,” Sirius asks; a note of concern in his voice as he glances between you and the group of teenagers now watching you two. He furrows his eyebrows as you shake your head, refusing to answer. Instead, you focus your attention on the cinnamon stick poking out of your butterbeer. Sirius had bought the flavour on a whim; Madame Rosmerta wanting to try out her new festive flavour on the patron who visits her the most. How could Sirius say no to such an offer? Besides, Madame Rosmerta had let him stay late in the tavern when things at Hogwarts and things at home became too much. She kept an eye on him, and for that, he would happily and gratefully try out every new flavour of butterbeer she concocted.

Sirius reaches across the table; gently taking your hand in his. His thumb rubs across the back of your hand in such a comforting motion that tears burn the back of your throat as you shake your head. “You know,” He mumbles, head tilted to you, “Keeping it all in doesn’t help. You can tell me anything.”

You sigh, plucking the cinnamon stick from your drink and placing it on the napkin next to it. Shrugging your shoulders in what you hope is a nonchalant manner, you answer, “They were just rude to me, that’s all.”

Sirius’ frown deepens, “There’s no ‘that’s all’ about it – no-one should be rude to you full stop.”

You smile, flipping your hand to squeeze his fingers, “Thank you, but it’s fine, really.”

His frown loosens, and you know he doesn’t believe you. However, he doesn’t push, and he doesn’t let go of your hand, he keeps it in a tight hold as he takes a sip of his butterbeer, smacking his lips at the sugary taste of butterscotch and cinnamon.

“How are you feeling about the Gargoyle Strike of 1911 now?” He asks; wanting to get your mind off of whatever had brought your mood down.

You smile smally, sitting up in your seat, “A lot better now. I don’t know why I find History of Magic so hard.”

Sirius chuckles: a finger tapping the stein of his butterbeer, “We don’t have the most entertaining of teachers, love.”

“You’re right,” You snort, “Binns is a bit of a bore, isn’t he?”

Sirius leans back in his chair; eyes wide as he gasps dramatically. He drops your hand somewhat reluctantly to press it to his chest. “What’s this?” He all but shouts, “(Y/N) sneaking out of the castle and chatting shit about a teacher all in one night? Am I in a parallel universe or something?”

You laugh, flicking your cinnamon stick at him which he catches with ease. “Not in a parallel universe,” You reassure, shrugging, “Just the realisation that I can have fun sometimes.”

Sirius grins: smile wide and straight, white teeth on show as he realises the extent to which you’ve relaxed over your evening with him.

It isn’t long before butterbeers are finished and muffled yawns are leaving your mouth. You do your best to stay alert, but the sugar crash from the overly sweet drink is imminent. The evening had felt like something out of a dream; never in your wildest imagining did you think you would be spending a night outside of the castle with Sirius Black. You never imagined that he would be the one to make your heart feel like it is about to beat right out of your chest, yet he does.

Biting your lip, you begin to realise just how much you don’t want this evening to end. The very thought of turning away from him to return to your room has sadness pooling in your stomach. It dampens your mood and ruins your sugar high. It hits you all at once; the strength of your want to spend every evening with him. It knocks you breathless; eyes wide as you rake your gaze over the intent expression on Sirius’ face.

There is so much more he wants to say; so much more he wants to find out about you. He wants to know what makes you laugh, what makes you cry. He wants to know your favourite book and why; he wants to be the one to read to you from it, watching your reactions to moments you long knew were coming. He wants to be the one you do everything with, and it all starts with cinnamon flavoured butterbeer and bags of chocolate.

“Shall we head back?” Sirius asks, standing from his seat and waiting for you.

You nod silently, gathering your wits and steeling yourself for the bitter winter wind waiting for you.

You inhale sharply as the first gust of wind travels over your body. You long of nothing more than Sirius’ arm around your shoulders; the action he showed earlier that warmed you up better than any blanket and any fire could.

Walking back to the castle, neither of you bother with the secret tunnel under Honeyduke’s cellar. Instead, even though neither of you dare utter the words, the both of you don’t want the evening to end. Between you both, it felt like the start of something more. It felt like the start of a closer friendship and a deeper relationship, but neither were ready to confront the feelings that were quite obviously there.

Your hands brush repeatedly as you amble back to the castle. The sky has long since darkened, and the both of you know that the caretaker will be prowling the castle, searching for students out past curfew. However, as Sirius’ hand brushes yours, fingers reaching out for yours, the jolt of electricity sent up your arm has you not caring about the caretaker and the consequences or the weather that threatens a chest cold. All you care about as the turret of Gryffindor tower is illuminated by the moon is the teenager walking beside you, wondering what the future could possibly hold with him by your side.

********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @theweasleysredhair @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @idont-knowrn @birdie-writes @big-galaxy-chaos @black-lake-confessions @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @mytreec @haphazardhufflepuff @chaoticgirl04 @teheharrypotter @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95​ @acciotwinz​ @kashishwrites​ @slytherinsunrise​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @remmyswritings​ @xfirstfemale-marauderx​ @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon​ @ria-rests-here​ @superbturtlemakerathlete​ @inglourious-imagines​ @ithilwen-lionheart​ @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown​ @ilovejjmaybank​

Sirius Black taglist: @approved-by-dentists @fific7 @susceptible-but-siriusexual @just-a-belgian-girl

[all-an-act]

Possibly another adopted by tokomaru hcs but if they were all adopted together?

I gotchu~

~ Mod Noire

"We'll Save You"

(TokoMaru x Platonic!Warriors Of Hope)

They heard that they were going to be adopted by Komaru and Toko, and were all instantly ":O" faced.

Masaru and Nagisa immediately take on the protective roles of the rest, stepping in front of them at all times, as if ready to accept a beating in order to protect the others.

This deeply saddens Toko, who reassures all five kids that they have nothing to worry about.

Monaca gets shunned for a while by the other four, despite deeply regretting all she had done to them prior.

This is intervened by Komaru, who stages a mini "intervention", so to speak. She basically allows Monaca to express her regret, and the other Warriors to hear her out.

"Deal with it." - Komaru, in the middle of a peaceful argument with Toko.

Masaru, surprisingly, broke down crying, and the other Warriors were not happy.

Kotoko WAS READY TO THROW HANDS-

Honestly, if it weren't for Monaca and Nagisa, both Komaru and Toko would have probably gotten killed by Kotoko's wrathful self-

Jataro was the comfort to Masaru, and Monaca joined in on that after mediating the fight.

If anyone says the word "gentle", I kid you not, Nagisa socks them in the jaw so fast-

NOBODY gets to hurt HIS little sister. His words, not mine.

Kotoko helps Monaca bedazzle her wheelchair with cute jewels, stickers, and googly eyes!

The first time a Warrior called one of them "mom", it was completely an accident.

And it was, surprisingly enough, Jataro who said it.

Toko was helping Jataro sew up his mask after it had come apart, when he blurted it out.

"Thank you, M-M-Mom."

Toko's heart felt like it could burst right then and there.

But it shattered when he began apologizing for it.

"I-I'm sorry, I don't know what g-g-got into me... I didn't mean t-to... I'll never s-say it again, I p-p-promise..."

Toko hugged him so tight, she almost squeezed the oxygen out of him.

"N-No! No! I like that you see me as your mom, because that's what I a-am now!"

Jataro was confused. All his life, his mother hadn't wanted him. The idea that someone did, especially someone so kind and sweet, baffled him. It just seemed so foreign to him, and the warm affection almost seemed to burn.

"N-N-Naegi-San, too?"

"Yes! Naegi-San is happy to be your mom, too! We love you! We both love all of you!"

The first secret came from Monaca, where she revealed that she had faked her disability. She was willing to give up the faking, but wanted to keep her wheelchair for comfort. Komaru agreed to this, and allowed her to keep her wheelchair as a comfort item.

Kotoko and Nagisa were a bit upset about that, but they eventually forgave Monaca, understanding that she only used it to obtain sympathy enough to escape from the abuse of her brother and father. Masaru and Jataro forgave her right away.

Nagisa revealed once that he was getting picked on in school, and that he wanted to be homeschooled because of it.

Genocide Jack was NOT HAVING IT.

He showed up at the school, and threatened the kids' lives with scissors had a talk with them.

That was when Nagisa realized that he really could depend on the two women. He did begin to show affection, albeit in his own kuudere way, much more often.

For example, he was a lot less snarky when correcting their grammar, math, etc., and he genuinely smiles and compliments them all the time.

Kotoko gave the first hug. She was so overwhelmed with emotion, that she shamelessly, unapologetically hugged both Komaru and Toko!

Uncle. Makoto. Is. Their. Favorite. Person. In. The. History. Of. Everything.

NOW, LET'S GET INTO HOLIDAYS WITH THIS FAMILY-

Komaru and Toko totally put all five of the kids in therapy for their trauma.

None of them are upset with it, though. They actually appreciate it.

New Year's is a surprisingly fun holiday with this family!

Kotoko, Masaru, and Monaca stay up to watch the ball drop with Komaru!

Nagisa, Jataro, and Toko are all out before eleven o'clock.

The four that are awake do fun things while waiting for the ball to drop!

For example, Monaca reads them her favorite books! She takes requests, though, and if one of them requests a specific story, she will try her best to read it. Komaru makes sure not to request anything too difficult for someone her age.

Masaru gets them all to play ping-pong with spoons and mini cupcakes.

The rounds are as follows: Masaru vs. Monaca, Masaru vs. Kotoko, Masaru vs. Komaru, Komaru vs. Monaca, Komaru vs. Kotoko, and Kotoko vs. Monaca.

Kotoko paints all their nails. Yes, even Masaru's. Masaru genuinely doesn't care, and he wants his the brightest, boldest red color she has. Komaru goes for a paler green. Monaca goes for bright green. Kotoko gets her nails painted by Masaru and Monaca; one hand for each of them.

Kotoko ends up with a half pink, half black handset, courtesy of Monaca and Masaru, respectively.

Toko and the others are disappointed that they missed all the festivities, but Komaru reassures them that there's always next year.

Valentine's Day is another fun holiday for them!

Jataro saves up all his allowance for almost four months in order to buy everyone presents!

Precious babey-

Jataro ends up giving Komaru a Ouija board, tuna eyeballs, and a new electric fan to talk to.

Yes, Jataro has witnessed her strange habits, and is curious of them.

He gets Toko a little clip-on nightlight to help her through her fear of the dark. She clips it to her shirt twenty-four-seven, and always makes sure that it has batteries.

Masaru is given a cool red basketball with his name written in white letters. He never plays with it, though, preferring to keep it in a safe place, where it won't get dirty or broken.

Nagisa is gifted a large encyclopedia. It's a simple gift, but he appreciates it, and gives Jataro a long, genuine hug.

He gifts Kotoko with a cute book with kawaii, adorbs stickers. Surprise, surprise, everybody wakes up with their faces stickered, and there are stickers all along the walls, floors, and appliances. Anybody who comes over thinks it's cute, and that only encourages Kotoko to "spread [her] adorbs-ness everywhere"!

He gives Monaca a sewing machine, because Monaca had brought up her love of fashion. He thought that maybe she would want to design her own. Monaca burst into tears, exclaiming that she felt so selfish for accepting a gift from someone she used to treat so cruelly. Of course, Jataro reassures her that that's in the past, and they're siblings now. Monaca ends up with a soft smile, and hugging the life out of a very blushy, flustered Jataro.

When St. Patrick's Day rolls around, Monaca puts her Valentine’s Day present to use! She makes cute green outfits for everyone, and takes their senses of style into account. Masaru's is designed like a jersey, Kotoko's has lots of glitter and frills, Komaru's and Toko's are designed like schoolgirl uniforms, Nagisa's is formally styled, Jataro's is leathery, and her own looks steampunk.

Kotoko convinces everyone to go look for the pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, or at least some leprechauns.

They didn't find any. :(

April Fool's Day is a D A N G E R O U S day to exist, as long as they live with Masaru.

Masaru is basically a miniature Kokichi Ouma when it comes to pranks.

He switched the sugar for salt once, and Kotoko ended up sick for two weeks, considering she eats too much of it, and probably eats it in spoonfuls.

Mother's Day is a fun one! They split Mother's Day up into five days, that way each kid got to spend time with each mother.

On the first day, Toko took Masaru to a basketball game that she had scored third-row tickets to prior to Mother's Day. He cheered so loud, and it warmed her heart to see his joy at her surprise. Masaru ended up giving her a pack of colored chalk for her to write on her chalkboard with. Komaru ended up taking Nagisa to watch Harry Potter in a theater with her, after realizing they had both read the book. In return, he gave her a meal of tuna eyeballs that he cooked, himself. They weren't perfect, but... he tried. :'3

On day two, Toko took Nagisa to go write short stories together. They googled writing prompts, and each used the same one to comprise a story of under five thousand words in ten minutes. Then, they judged and gave constructive criticism to one another. He gave her high-quality pens to write down her ideas with. Meanwhile, Komaru took Jataro to plant a garden of vegetables in the backyard, and tend to it everyday. Sometimes, Jataro talks to their plants when he feels lonely. He gave her a pretty rock. Again, he tried. :'3

On day three, Toko took Jataro on a food tour, where she drove around and they got a small snack from every food place they drove past, eventually ending up with a whole big meal! He gave her a pretty flower. All the while, Komaru took Kotoko to a fashion show where they showcased pretty glittery idol clothes and lolita clothes. She gave Komaru a song she had written in her honor. Yes, Kotoko actually spent weeks writing a song for Komaru, and even got the other Warriors to play the instruments for the music. Masaru played guitar, Nagisa played the piano, Jataro played the drums, and Monaca played the bass. Of course, Kotoko was the vocalist. (Band AU?)

On day four, Toko took Kotoko to a Morning Musume concert. I swear, everyone must have had bleeding ears from how loud Kotoko screamed for it. She ended up getting an autograph and a picture with Tanaka Reina, so she was a very, very happy girl. She gave Toko a pink card that had a painted sweet message on it and was practically swimming in pink glitter. Meanwhile, Komaru took Monaca to play video games and order Monaca's favorite food. It was something simple, but something Monaca really appreciated. They played Pac-Man, Super Smash Bros., Sonic The Hedgehog, and Crash Bandicoot. And they had tons of fun. Monaca gave her a cute new outfit, made in steampunk design, that she made, herself.

On day five, Toko took Monaca to a planetarium, where they looked at all the beautiful constellations. Monaca, being the smart cookie she is, told her all their names, what they represented, etc.! And at night, they went stargazing for real, Monaca pointing out her favorite constellations again. Monaca gave Toko an invention of hers: a program she designed that filters out spelling errors, grammar errors, etc., and suggests new ideas when writer's block comes around. Meanwhile, Komaru took Masaru to play laser tag! Komaru got "shot" sixteen times, while Masaru got "shot" three times. The two made jokes about it the entire way home, and it was just an overall fun day. He gave her the baseball that he had batted to hit the final, winning home run in his last game. It was the only winning baseball he had ever hit, so Komaru felt quite special receiving the gift.

Now, onto Father's Day~!

Genocide Jack takes an hour to spend with each kid!

He plays soccer, basketball, and baseball with Masaru for the first hour!

He reads stuffy, boring novels with Nagisa for the second hour.

He cooks the best, most fanciest meal with Jataro for the third hour!

He acts out movie and show scenes with Kotoko for the fourth hour.

He helps Monaca make inventions and sew for the fifth hour!

He refuses all of their gifts in return, however, as he doesn't believe that children who have been hurt in the past, just as Toko herself was, should be allowed to pay homage to adults.

Despite them not technically being his kids, he cares enough to step into that role for them, Toko and Komaru allowing him to do so.

The fourth of July is great!

Genocide Jack brings up the idea of taking the kids to a carnival for it, to which Toko and Komaru agree.

They all get facepaints, funnel cakes, and they ride all the rides!

They play most of the games as well, and win eight or nine stuffed animals!

It becomes an annual tradition to take the kids to the carnival for the Fourth Of July!

For Halloween, of course they're all the cutest things!

Masaru is Yasutaka Okayama. Nagisa is Albert Einstein. Jataro is Frankenstein's Monster. Kotoko is a Fairy Princess. Monaca is female Izuku Midoriya.

Kotoko has no issue using her cuteness to get extra candy.

When Thanksgiving rolls around, it's always fun!

Toko and Komaru prepare dinner the night before, while the Warriors aren't allowed downstairs. They have to call if they want something, like water, and there is a bathroom in the attic.

In the morning, when the actual cooking happens, Kotoko and Masaru beg to help, but only Nagisa is allowed to, because Nagisa is the responsible one.

Even so, they invite their family members that they are still in touch with, such as Uncle Makoto, Aunt Kyoko, Aunt Aoi, Uncle Byakuya, Uncle Yasuhiro, and even Genocide Jack makes his "grand appearance".

Honestly, it shouldn't even be surprising at this point.

Christmas is another fun time!

They do Secret Santa, but Komaru and Toko make sure that they get each other.

Masaru gets Jataro; he ends up getting Jataro a whole new array of spices and flavorings for his cooking hobby! Jataro appreciates this greatly, and uses it whenever he cooks.

Nagisa gets Kotoko; he gets her a toy microphone that works like a real one, just on a smaller scale. Nagisa can now consider himself the reason "One Room Sugar Life" is belted through the house at two in the morning every day.

Jataro gets Monaca; he buys her a whole stack of fashion magazines with her beloved Big Sis Junko in them, along with new fabric to sew with. She appreciates the gifts, and assures Jataro that he can revel in despair with her when she obtains it.

Monaca gets Masaru; she gifts him with a ping-pong set, a table tennis set, and an air hockey set. Masaru is surprised that she cared enough, to which Monaca replies, "Monaca is a changed person now. Monaca cares about you now."

Birthdays are the same as Christmas, but all their efforts focus on that one person.

They grow to all love each other very much, and all of them would happily die in defense of the others.

Monaca even eventually gives up on her obsession with Junko, hope, and despair, with their help.

All the Warriors will forever appreciate everything that Toko and Komaru have done for them.

Overall, just a completely wholesome family.

[sondepoch]

5 Minutes (Lucifer x Reader)

It's not rare for Satan and Lucifer to fight. It's even more common for one of them to threaten leaving the House of Lamentation in their anger. But this time, things feel more serious. So you go to offer the Avatar of Pride some comfort, and to maybe help him make amends with his brother. But all he wants is to be wrapped in your loving arms.

~Oneshot

MASTERLIST

It's not the food you like.

As you glance down at the dish Levi prepared tonight—fried bear tongue, drizzled in a frog-and-fox puree—you can't help but think with a lurch: No, it's definitely not the food I like.

But these dinners in the House of Lamentation are normally so happy and full of life. They're a time where you're reminded that, despite everything, these seven men are brothers, and they love each other like a family.

Dinner is normally your favorite meal of the day: it's your one chance to see the brothers in their natural state. With no strings attached, you just get to enjoy spending time with them.

Yeah. There's no denying it.

Dinners in the House of Lamentation are special.

So why did the evening have to turn into this?

You droop your head, gazing at your pitiful reflection in your black beetle soup, listening to the fight as it continues to escalate.

"Must you ruin every meal of ours?"

"Must you oversee every action of mine?"

"Ah, yes. 'Mine.' That's all I hear from you, Satan. You're the Avatar of Wrath, not the Avatar of Selfishness—think of those around you for a change."

"Is this really coming from you, Lucifer? You're telling me not to be selfish? Well since you're clearly still such a saint: Why don't you do everyone here a big favor and keep your nose out of our business?!"

You hear Lucifer stand up, and can immediately tell that he's trying to glare down his brother. Not a second later, Satan mimics his action.

"Satan, I am warning you. Do not continue—"

"Oh, you're warning me. How terrifying," Satan mocks. "What are you going to do, oh so noble Lucifer? Go crying to daddy Diavolo?"

You feel Lucifer flinch next to you. He keeps you close to him during meals so that you're always safe at his side, but seeing him this furious is making you feel almost fearful beside his towering form.

"Do not disrespect Diavolo. That is the one thing in this house I will not tolerate, Satan, and I'm tired of being patient with you."

"You're being patient? Is that what you call constantly breathing down my neck and supervising my every action? Is that what you call hiding behind your ridiculous lectures and oh-so-precious lord Diavolo? The man you seem to worship doesn't even—"

"Leave."

You flinch.

For the first time since their bickering began, you look up at the two men fighting. Their angry gazes are locked onto each other, sharing the spotlight of the dinner as every other brother in the room gazes upon at them as well.

In all your minds, a common question echoes.

"L-Lucifer," Levi stammers out. His eyes are round in concern, not a single trace of his usual carefree attitude present. "Leave? Are you asking Satan to..." To leave this dinner table or this house?

You swallow.

These brothers know each other too well to need words to finish the question.

Everyone stiffens, an expectant hush falling over the table as you all wait for Lucifer's response.

"It doesn't matter," Satan says with a scoff. He pulls his chair out and turns, sparing none of you a second glance. "I'm leaving."

And though he doesn't specify whether its the dinner table or the house he intends to abandon, his intentions are clear. If one of them doesn't do something, Satan will be in Purgatory Hall by this time tomorrow, you realize.

You turn to Lucifer, about to urge him to apologize when you see the look on his face.

He's crestfallen.

His fist clenches and unclenches as he begins to understand the weight of Satan's declaration. It's not the first time that one of them has said something to prompt the other to attempt to leave the House of Lamentation, but Satan's words have a ringing sense of finality to them.

Before any of you can get a word out, Lucifer storms off in the opposite direction.

Truly brothers, you can't help but think.

"I...I'm going after Lucifer. One of you, please talk to Satan." You push your plate toward Beel, a silent cue to finish dinner so that the blonde has at least a little bit of time to cool off before one of them tries to talk him back into his senses.

But with Lucifer, every passing second is a curse.

The longer he has for his pride to cool down, the more resilient he'll be when you find him. His pride is a double-edged sword that's constantly in the molding—to get through to him, you need to talk to him now. Strike while the iron is hot. Break through to him before his pride makes him too stubborn for him to even hear your words.

You all but run to his study, nearly breathless when you finally reach the room. You think about knocking, before deciding against it. The only time you need to knock is during the day, when there's a risk that Lucifer has a guest who could wonder why you're entering his study so comfortably.

But on nights like these, Lucifer has instructed you to not even bother.

A knock kills the element of surprise, MC, he had once told you. And you're the sweetest surprise for a man like me.

Lucifer stiffens when he hears the door swing open, head darting over to your position for fear that one of his brothers will see him in such a vulnerable state. But when his dark eyes flit over your figure, he relaxes once more and looks away, tightening his grasp in his hair as he digs his nails into his hair, staring holes into his desk.

"Lucifer," You whisper softly, embracing him from behind. You bring a delicate hand up to play with the raven locks, subtly interweaving your fingers with his own to stop him from pulling his hair out. You can feel his body trembling—either from rage or sadness or bitterness or a mix of all things above—and you feel a sharp pang in your heart.

You came here to tell him off, to reprimand him for taunting Satan and getting into a fight when they had just finally made up, but the elder demon already knows his mistake.

You sigh, giving him a tender kiss to his temple.

"He's leaving," Lucifer mutters, still yet to respond to your touch. He allows you to lace your fingers in his, but that's the extent of it. Every part of him looks numb. "And he meant it, this time. He didn't just say it to spite me. Satan actually wants to leave."

"It'll blow over. It always does," That much is true. You've only seen Lucifer and Satan fight a handful of times, still fairly new to the Devildom, but from what you've seen the duo always make up in some shape or form. "Just apologize, and this whole thing can be done with."

Lucifer stiffens.

"Apologize?" He asks, but the question is more of a scoff. "You want the Avatar of Pride to apologize?"

You take a step back, realizing that Lucifer's anger is rising up alongside his voice, and the look on his face tells you that it's the last thing you want to agitate. He stands and gives you an incredulous stare—probably about to further mock your idea—when he sees the terrified gaze you're shooting him. Slowly, he sits back down, and a part of him seems calmer: as if releasing that little bit of anger cooled his head.

First hesitantly, but then more confident as you think about all the times you've done this in the past, you seat yourself in the demon's lap and wrap your arms around his neck. Despite the situation, you see his gaze dart to your chest, now directly at eye-level with him, before turning away. He leans his head back on the chair, and for a long moment, neither of you speak.

That's okay, though. You know that this silence is one that Lucifer is meant to break.

An entire minute must pass before the anger in his eyes has faded, and he gives a sigh of mute helplessness. At what? Perhaps it's his helplessness against Satan's ever-responsive temper, always ready to go off at Lucifer at the drop of a hat. Or perhaps it's Lucifer's helplessness at his own inability to control his wrath that causes him to sigh like that. Either way, what's left when he expels the remnants of his prior anger is nothing but a dejected sorrow: a sight ill-fitting of such an upstanding demon.

"I thought things were going well between us," Lucifer mutters, gesturing half-heartedly toward a book on his desk. It's old: the leather bindings aged with use and time. "I was even going to give him that book as a present. It's the last one in the Devildom. Satan's been searching for it for centuries."

"Give it to him," You murmur. You bring up a cautious hand to cup Lucifer's cheek. You keep your touch light and gentle, knowing full-well how helpless the demon must be feeling.

He's trying. He really is. It's just that after five thousand years of misunderstandings between the two, it'll be a bit longer before all the tension between him and Satan dissipates. "The book will be...an apology without words. Come on. I'm sure Satan is just as upset over this as you are. He wants to make up, too." You let out a light chuckle. "You two are more alike than you realize."

Lucifer sighs, leaning his head on your shoulder. Even he can't deny that much.

You thread your fingers through his dark locks, letting him take all the time he needs. Already, you can feel a protest build in his lungs, a dismissive counterargument to why giving this book to Satan would be a larger blow to his pride than any possible reward derived from it. But, much to your surprise, when Lucifer finally opens his mouth once more, all he says is "Okay."

You almost stop your movements, a brief hesitation flitting through your body as you realize, with a start, that Lucifer actually just agreed to your proposition. Just how distraught is he? You can't help but wonder as his soft breathing continues to tickle your skin.

A new wave of empathy floods through you.

These brothers weren't born to be demons. They became one with their sins in their descent from heaven. And just as much as you, or any human, or possibly even any angel: they, too, want to rise above their sin.

"I'm proud of you," You murmur, stealing a chaste kiss from Lucifer's lips. You're about to say more, to congratulate him on how he's rising above his nature and doing what's best for his relationship with Satan, when he silences you with another kiss.

It's a quiet thank you.

Even now, when Lucifer is trying to overcome his pride in this argument with Satan, he's bound by his sin. He can't outright apologize, nor can he outright thank you.

But he's trying.

And that's all you'll ever ask for.

You let your lips linger on his, basking in the tenderness of the moment. Lucifer is normally such a passionate and active lover; moments like these are rare. But you adore all sides to the raven-haired demon: the soft and the hot and the cuddly and the kinky and even the side he showed you last night, with those handcuffs and—

You force yourself from your thoughts, leaning forward to retrieve the book Lucifer was talking about. Your fingers have almost touched the leather when the demon pulls you back into his lap, caging his arms tightly around your waist so that you can't escape. "Not yet," He mumbles, resting his forehead on your shoulder. He squeezes you even tighter.

"But Lucifer..."

"Not yet," He repeats. When you continue to pull away from him, he sighs and gives you a tiny compromise. "Just five more minutes."

You already know that five will stretch into ten, and then into fifteen, and soon the evening will have turned to night, but as Lucifer leans back and pulls your body with him, you can't bring yourself to care.

"Okay," You murmur with a smile. You turn your body slightly and shift to accommodate him, giving him better room to tug at your body with his own until the two of you are pressed close enough together to be one.

He gives another sigh, and this time it's soft with comfort. Quiet enough that you would miss it, but there.

You close your eyes.

It's not often that Lucifer lets you see his vulnerable side like this, wanting nothing more from you than the comfort of your presence. In fact, it's the first time that he's been so open about it. Hands looped around your waist and head pressed above yours, all he does is hold you close. There are no flirtatious jokes. No playful bites. It's just you and him, wrapped together in a tight embrace and a stillness that makes it feel like time itself has stopped to give you both the time you need.

The supposed five minutes.

Though, as you begin to drift off in Lucifer's warm embrace, the prospect of those five minutes turning into something more suddenly doesn't seem so bad after all.

MASTERLIST

Word count: 3.0k

Notes: I injured my hand recently so I've been going through all my drafts and posting them~ I think once I'm healed I may actually continue writing for the Obey Me fandom :D i haven't finished the game yet but that won't stop me from daydreaming about my favs~ *cough* Simeon *cough* 

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I do not own the rights to Obey Me! or any of the characters within it.

[like-rain-or-confetti]

Unavoidable bonds. (Alec Volturi x reader)

It was nothing at first, or at least in your eyes. Alec was a strange person who was very closed off and by pure luck, he was somewhat kind to you. He wasn't hostile as you had come to expect. The Cullen's had told you awful things about the Volturi, Alec included but you found it easier to hate him when he wasn't around. However now that he was, it was almost impossible. Not to mention that everyone seemed to know something you didn't. None of who were willing to tell you. Eventually you stopped asking and thought nothing of it, all the while becoming more acquainted with Alec. You got small smiles from him, each one you had earned. 

After some time, you had formed some kind of friendship with him, although you tried to ignore the pull of wanting more. You figured it was just curiosity of being in the presence of someone so mysterious and dangerous. 

For reasons unknown, you began to notice Alec had begun to approach you rather than you always coming to him. It made you speculate that maybe he wanted to spend his time with you. After that he began to break the gap he always created between you. It started with little things such as fixing your hair or picking something off your shoulder and grew into more intimate things like lingering hand holding, longer than necessary, the occasional random pattern he'd trace on your spine sometimes when standing behind you idly. 

However a line seemed to be drawn when that turned into hugs and Alec gave you some insight. "Why are they so upset?" You asked him quietly, referring to the Cullen's who were in a tense discussion with the other members of the Volturi, except Alec of course. "They don't approve of our time together." Alec said simply. "Why?" You asked. "You and I have a special bond. That scares them." He retorted. "Special? In what way?" You frowned. "I'm sure you've felt it. I've heard your heartbeat change sometimes." Alec looked down, brushing some dirt from his crossed knees. "You don't feel it as strongly as I do but it's there." "I'm going to need some more information on that, Alec. I don't quite understand what you're saying specifically." "You and I are likely to be mates despite our short time together. As much as I don't like saying it, it's similar to 'love at first sight'." Alec grimaced. "Do you not believe in that stuff?" You asked him. "I don't enjoy the thought. I find it disturbing but I don't feel that way you. Perhaps I am mistaken." "You feel it too?" You whispered in disbelief. "The pull? All the time. I feel it more than you would as a human. Believe me, if you felt it like I do, you'd be just as certain." "And the Cullen's don't like that because..." "...because it's with me." Alec finished. "I'm one of the most dangerous vampires in the world. They fear you're in danger."  "Am I?" You whispered and Alec shook his head in response. "Is this kind of bond common?" "No, it's actually exceptionally rare. I personally thought it to be nothing more than a lie but I here I stand corrected." "That explains why I feel so... attached. Sorry, I know that's weird." You admitted sheepishly. Alec smirked. "I find relief in that. It means I'm not the only one. Although it makes a very sad situation for when I must leave tomorrow."  "and you absolutely have to?" You asked Alec and he nodded briefly. "Yes. Soon enough, you'll be going home too." You tilted your head at Alec in confusion. This wasn't necessarily an uncommon experience. You had simply put it down to the many years he had despite looking so young. Alec often said things that didn't make sense, like hearing a statement from a book with no context. He left you to pick up the pieces, although you began to learn that perhaps he hadn't intended you to know the answer. Such a suspicion wouldn't be too far from the truth you reckoned. It had become consistent for vampires to not tell you the complete truth. Alec simply cracked a small smile, recognising your confusion. 

"it's just...it's stupid but I feel like it won't be the same without you now. I like having you around." You said quietly. "I'm fond of you as well." His smile didn't waver and held the same manner you had grown accustomed to. The smile that you'd give a naive child, the smile that said you didn't know anything. 

The next day he had to leave as planned and just as you had expected, it made you sad. There was a small heart ache that followed. You were eager to ignore it. Especially as Alec stood before you, his stance motionless and stoic. Although his eyes had a soft gaze upon you. "Goodbye, little human." He said simply. The name he had often gave you around the others. The term moved from condescending to endearment rather quickly. His eyes said a little more however, something he'd never say in front of others such as the Cullen's. Although his eyes said it for him. 'my little human.' His departure was as brief as his goodbye. No looking back, no distractions. Alec and his coven were gone. The Cullen's were beyond relieved at that point and that's when things became difficult. 

The goal was simple, yet complicated and the Cullen's were unified in it. Keep you and Alec apart. Don't let this continue any further. Alec tried to contact you many times, all of his letter reached you but you couldn’t respond. More specifically, the letters you wrote always disappeared before you could send them. Every newer letter gave you the indication that he hadn’t received yours so no one was sending them for you. 

You devised a plan that as soon as you were alone, you’d call the Volturi. You got receptions number and waited for your time. It eventually came when all of the Cullen’s went hunting. That was your chance. 

You waited half an hour after they had left, wanting to be sure they wouldn’t hear. You quickly dialled the number, leaning against the wall. You knew you’d have been caught as soon as the phone bill came through but you had to tell Alec you weren’t ignoring him. After a couple of rings are cheerful woman greeted you...in Italian. You didn’t know any Italian.  “Hi, uhm, sorry but do you speak english?” There was a brief silence.  “Hello, can you understand me?” The woman wasn’t as confident with her English judging by the pauses but regardless, her annunciation was perfect.”  “Yes, just to be clear, the Volturi...right?” There was another pause. “You have. I’m sorry, might i ask your name?” She asked. “Uh, yeah, my name is (Y/N). I’m a friend of Alec’s.” You could sense her alarm through the phone.  “I see, how can I help you today?”  “Well, Alec has been trying to contact me.” The receptionist made a noise as she seemed to recall. “Ah yes, I was asked to send them to you. Have they not arrived?” You couldn’t help but note the wobble of fear in her question. “Oh I did, yeah, everything is fine but I was hoping I could ask you to give him something for me.” You said hurriedly.  “I believe i can, what would you like me to give to him?”  “Could you take a note of this number and give it to him. It’s my phone number, i can’t respond to his letters they-my family won’t let me.” You said and the receptionist seemed to catch on.  “I see, very well. I’m ready when you are.” 

You gave her your number and she relayed it back to confirm it. Then she paused. “Alec isn’t on duty at the moment, if you like, i could see if I can reach him?” You perked up slightly. “Really? I mean- if it isn’t too much bother.” You could hear the smile in her voice. “Absolutely, let me put you on hold.” 

After a couple of minutes that felt like hours, you heard his voice for the first time in weeks. “Hello?”  “Hi Alec.” You breathed, unable to hold back your smile. You sank to the floor, your whole body leaning against the wall. “(Y/N)?”  “Yeah, its me.” There was a pause, “I’ve wrote to you seven times in the past five weeks alone.” He didn’t sound happy.  “I know, i got them.” You began.  “Well that’s nice, a response would have been even nicer.” Alec’s cold voice took you aback. You had forgotten how blunt he could be. “I know, I wrote back every time but...” You trailed off, unsure how to relay to him your suspicions. “...this is going to sound crazy.” You said flatly. Alec was quiet for a moment. “As long as it doesn’t sound like a lie.”  “I’m not lying to you Alec, i promise. I really did write back to you but...they disappeared before i could send them...every time.” Alec was quiet and you continued. “I think they’re taking them before i can send them.”  “The Cullen’s?” He asked. “Yeah.”  “How do you know?”  “I don’t.” You said quickly, the first couple of times i thought i had misplaced them but...seven times? And...” You trailed off.  “What?” Alec pressed. “When you left, I heard things here and there. I pretended not to but they really don’t approve of me being in contact with you. So much so that I think it could be possible that when i’m asleep or not looking, they’re taking the letters.” You paused. “I know it sounds crazy but this is the only way i could think of reaching you without something going wrong. I don’t know if it’s me or if I am genuinely onto them.”  “Did you asked them?” Alec asked finally. “They’re very quick to deny it and change the subject. I stopped asking, even tried hiding the letters but somehow they’re gone and I don’t remember moving them.” You sighed. “I know it sounds crazy-.”  “It doesn’t.”Alec interrupted.  “Really?”  “Humans can be forgetful but i don’t think they could be that forgetful. Besides, why would you call if you were trying to avoid contact.” Alec said. You exhaled. “I never even thought about that.” There was a slight chuckle.  “Alec, are you laughing at me?” You raised an eyebrow.  “Yes.” He said without hesitation.  “Don’t laugh! I thought i was going crazy and then i thought you were angry with me!”  “I was annoyed but it isn’t your fault. I didn’t realise the Cullen’s would go to such measures to keep you from me.” He explained. “I mean...other than the thousands upon thousands of miles between us?” You asked lightly.  “Very funny.”  “I try.” You grinned.  “Are you safe?” Alec asked.  “Yeah. I think i should be asking you that.” You smirked.  “You don’t need to worry about me, little human.”  “I’m sorry if I worried you though, about...you know, your letters.”  “It seemingly isn’t your fault. Besides, I can hear you now.” Alec spoke. You felt your heart flutter. “Although this is bizarre. I haven’t used a phone before.” Your jaw dropped. “You’re joking.”  “I’m not. I never had the need to besides i’m...old fashioned.”  “Or you’re just old and your age is showing.” You smirked, giggling at the moment of silence.  “You’re exceptionally lucky you’re thousands of miles away, cara mia.”  “That distance gives me confidence.” You giggled.  “I bet it does.” You could hear his smile. 

“Would it be okay if i were to call you instead of writing. I think it’ll be easier to hide. “ You asked.  “I may not be able to use this phone but I believe Heidi has a phone. I would have to ask if i could use it...once she tells me how to use it.” You giggled. “Well the receptionist took down my number.”  “She did, it’s on a tiny bit of yellow paper with your name and many numbers.”  “If you keep that, you’d be able to contact me at any time with that number. Texting or call.” You explained. “Text?” Alec sounded confused. You laughed. “So old!”  “Hey! I’ll come over there.”  “Heidi will tell you all you need to know, i’m sure. I’ll let you get back in contact with me when you can. I know you’re busy and I know i’ll need to hide my phone.” You smiled.  “I’ll fix this, sweet-face.” Alec assured you. “You won’t need to worry.” 

Turns out he was right and true to his word, barely two days later Alice froze mid-step.  “What is it, Alice?” Jasper reached out for his mate, his long fingers curling around her wrist.  “The Volturi...they’re coming here.” 

Barely a week had passed and it seemed the day had arrived. The first hint was from the wolves. The second, you could only assume was vampire instinct because no one would tell you anything. Word had been sent that they had arrived and would be before the Cullen’s in minutes. 

Alice grabbed your face in a firm grip. “Hey, you stay here. Understand? You stay inside.” You nodded quickly and the Cullen’s began to leave the house, one by one.

You moved to the window, keeping a distance but still very visible. You saw many black and grey cloaks. Far more vampires than the Cullen’s, at least triple the number. You felt fear, despite knowing Alec was among them and there to see you. The hostility was too much and it was because of you. You couldn’t hear what was said but within minutes, things seemed to go sour as multiple members grabbed each of the Cullen’s. 

It had been easy enough for the Volturi to overpower the Cullen's even without Alec's help. Aro looked over at Alec, nodding once and Alec's gaze moved from Aro towards the Cullen house. Just like that, Alec walked towards the house. A strike of terror filled you as you pulled away from the window and took off running towards the stairs. You knew better than to run. You knew you couldn't avoid this situation yet regardless of this, you attempted to anyway. You hid in the closet, closing the door quickly. 

Only seconds later you heard footsteps from downstairs. Tears welled in your eyes as your lip quivered. You weren't afraid of Alec, you were afraid of the situation and Alec came with that. You could hear him ascend the stairs as a tear ran down your cheek. He was moving slowly, humanly slow. Whether that was for you or not, you couldn't be sure. Your heart was racing as you quickly regretted hiding, forgetting just why hiding was such a reasonable idea. "(Y/N)?" You heard Alec call out from down the hall. "(Y/N)?" You shivered, not responding but you knew there was only a matter of time before you were found. You had no doubt Alec had already pin pointed where you were by heartbeat alone. "(Y/N)." Alec's voice was just beyond the door. "Open the door." He said simply. You couldn't move. "(Y/N), open the door." Alec said again, this time a little more firmly. "(Y/N), open the door!"

"I’d never have thought you to be the one to come between mates, my dear Carlisle.” Aro smiled.  “Not without reason to think someone is in danger.” Carlisle responded smoothly. “Hypocrite!” Caius snapped.  “Indeed, not a very convincing argument considering...Edward and young Bella.” Aro’s eyes landed on the couple.  “I can guarantee her safety.” Edward spoke through a clenched jaw. “Can Alec?” Jane let out a loud snarl but Aro raised a hand, motioning for her to stand down.  “Now, now, dear Jane. Edward here, is simply...misinformed.” Edward scoffed. 

You tried so desperately to hold back your tears but had failed. In a matter of moments, you could barely register Alec's arms around you, holding you to him. His hold was comforting even if a little too tight. He was quiet when he wasn't mumbling into your ear words of reassurance. It served as a reminder why you cared for him so much. "It's okay, I'll be here when you're ready." He said into your ear. 

To the Cullen’s surprise, they saw Alec come back out of the house and towards them hand in hand with you.  “They’re fine.” Alec said to Aro as you looked down at your feet. Alec pulled you a little closer to him, out of the way of the Volturi guards who released the Cullen’s. As you passed Alec, his fingertips brushed your back. He hummed with a smirk. “They look more and more beautiful as the days pass.” The compliment was sincere but most definitely made to make the Cullen’s uncomfortable. It was a success as Esme’s face twisted as she moved to wrap her arms around you. 

Weeks past and ever since the Volturi’s second visit, you had been acting differently. Being cheerful was never a bad thing in the Cullen's eyes but that wasn't the issue. You were more cheerful and that was fine, great even. However the smile only covered your mouth and barely your eyes. Looking more carefully there was something else there, you were happy but distant from them and had been since the Volturi left. You began to speak like you'd be gone one day. As though caught in a daydream that held you a thousand miles away. Perhaps there was. 

Bella could see it and she wondered if that was what Jessica, Angela, Mike, Ben, Jacob, her parents saw when they looked at her. 'Hes got his hooks in you so deep.' Bella remembered Jake's words as though they were yesterday. They never sat with her well. She never understood them. She never understood how her love for Edward was so wrong. Until she could see it for herself. Was this what they saw when looking at her? Smiling but as far as you could be...with him. Alec. Maybe, she could finally understand where they had been coming from, by looking at you. 

Although Alec had stopped contact since his visit. The Cullen's thought that would have dampened your mood. They tried to keep you apart from him and nothing good came out of it. Yet it had been weeks since his last contact and your smile hadn't even remotely faltered. The Cullen's knew better. Something big was coming. Even if you didn't know it. The Volturi were planning something. 

Alice tried to look at their decisions but they seemed more prepared than ever. If she had to guess, they were taking turns with their plan. She started with Aro only to find nothing but a confirmation from Caius. She looked to Caius and yet again and saw nothing. She checked Alec who seemed to count on Jane and Jane looked to the masters. Marcus was the most difficult of all, if he made any decisions in this plan then they were miniscule. She couldn't piece together a confirmation within a plan that had no hints. She was only left with glimpses, none of which being anything major.  

She was hit with another vision. This one of Jane who made her way to Alec. He was sitting in an armchair, seemingly in thought. Jane gently placed a hand on her brothers shoulder. "It's almost done. Soon." Alec smirked. "That is wonderful to hear, sister." She took a seat beside him on the arm rest. "Are you worried about (Y/N)?" Alec thought for a moment. "No. The plan will work. Besides, sister, I trust you with them. You'll keep them safe." Jane cracked a smile. "Of course I would. I'd do anything for you, brother. I meant for the current days. Whilst we are not there." "I believe that the Cullen's know if they even look at my mate the wrong way, there will be hell to pay." Alec said simply and just like that the vision was over. 

Another vision of many that, in the end, meant absolutely nothing and gave Alice no clue as to what was being plotted against them. Two months passed and things had become radio silent but just as quickly hell emerged. The Cullen's had returned from a hunt and you were no where to be found. Horror struck them. Had it been so simple? Was this is mastermind plan? The Volturi would take you when they weren't looking? None were satisfied with such an answer and so they each split up to search. 

Alice and Jasper were the first to disappear. No one had seen them since they departed yet the others had all crossed paths. Then it was Rosalie, Emmet not far to follow. Edward had yet to return and Bella was with her father, safe and sound. That left Carlisle and Esme who had no choice but to split up in desperation to find you. Esme moved to the front of the house, checking the trees through there. 

Carlisle looked at his house that was now completely pitch black without the lights and in the dead of night. When they had left the lights were on and he felt a sense of dread wash over him. This time, he could smell your scent much more strongly than previously which meant you were back and a strong heartbeat. "(Y/N)!?" Carlisle called out. Within moments there was a giggle and the sound of footsteps joined with the heartbeat. In seconds you ran past the doorframe in front of him.  “(Y/N)! Come back!” Carlisle called out after you. However you didn’t listen, rushing into the darkness. 

Carlisle called out to you and once again he got no reply, He made his way through each of the rooms before finally coming face to face with Alec. His expression was blank and you peeked out from behind him, your hand clutched with his tightly.  “You're too late Carlisle. They're with me now." He said simply. You smiled slightly as you nuzzled into Alec’s shoulder.  “W-What can I do to convince you-” Carlisle began but was cut off. “I think you and your coven have done enough.” Alec said stoically before directing his next sentence to you. “Sweet-face, Corin and Chelsea are looking for you.” You broke away from Alec, running off behind him and out of the room.  “No...” Carlisle shook his head in horror. “You didn’t...”  “See that’s where you have me wrong Carlisle. Chelsea hasn’t done anything to (Y/N).” Alec said quickly. Carlisle looked to see Jane walking up to take her place to her brothers left.  “You thought that I’d tie (Y/N) to me so using Chelsea. So much so you forget that they’re my mate, they’re already tied without her. If you must know, It’s Corin’s influence over them that I used. I don’t want to upset them. I want them happy and even just a little distracted.”  “Distracted for what-” Carlisle was cut off by his own scream. He crumpled to the ground, Jane filled with delight as she used her gift on Carlisle.  “This is what you get when you try to keep them from me. This is what happens. I suggest you tell your family and your friends about this taste of the consequences because i can promise you, it’s only a taste of what we’ll do if you ever try to come between us again.” Jane released Carlisle. 

In that moment you came into the room. “Am I going with you?” Alec turned with a small smirk. “Of course you are. It’s time. You’re ready, aren’t you?” You nodded cheerfully. Alec reached for your hand as Jane slipped her own hand into his free one. “Let’s go, sweet-face.”