#oof not once but twice i got his name wrong

[delicatebluebirdruins]

when I watched the netflix resident evil show i did find some scenes that were enjoyable most of which came from the portrayals of the Albert Wesker clones done wonderfully by Lance Riddick he was honestly a treasure and made the role he was given shine. Rest in peace Lance

[furymint]

FFXIV Write 2024 | header | wc: 1,045

Elliot: Game time: Tell me who your favorite Bell is.

Nolanel: That guy.

Elliot: That was swift. Arym? Truly?

Nolanel: Weird name. Yeah. Had breakfast more than once with him, real early. I think he only knows about eighteen words in Eorzean.

Elliot: Please! Truthfully now?

Nolanel: Brave.

Elliot: Our bellwether? Not Norhi?

Nolanel: Not Norhi. Brave takes care of you folk. She's ready and straight so you can keep your finger paint straight, and ain't afraid to cut manners out of business with crows.

Elliot: Not to doubt your munificence, but I never suspected that you would forgive her for making you leave.

Nolanel: I never blamed her. She's fair. The only one of you that's fair.

Elliot: I'm pretty.

Nolanel: You're besides the point. And what answer's in your pretty head?

Elliot: I'll pretend to think about this. Norhi.

Nolanel: She babies you.

Elliot: Not more than she indulges you.

Nolanel: One day she'll need to tell you no.

Elliot: She has—but never when it matters. What's more, she despises everyone I despise with the exact amount of candor to prove it's real. Norhi never argues, either. The way she avoids confrontation could almost make one believe that bickering is unenjoyable.

Nolanel: Imagine that.

Elliot: But I like Brave too. She always lets me make a fool of myself while watching with that smile you have.

Nolanel: It's easy to wind you up and set you marching like a toy.

Elliot: Joy is always running—although often away.

Nolanel: Wyda I mostly like. Got some wrong ideas.

Elliot: About Xanadu.

Nolanel: And her bedmates.

Elliot: Oof. But she's the most intelligent person I know--even if she applies her gifts hazardously—and she's my most favorite to talk too.

Nolanel: Aye, I know you're in love with her.

Elliot: I think she'd hate that more than I, if it's possible. But if you were to fall in love with any of them, who would it be?

Nolanel: No. That's propaganda.

Elliot: I don't know what you mean. It's foolishness.

Nolanel: It's what you said about the Faithful. For naught but making oneself furious, especially when it don't make sense. Now you see—

Elliot: I think it's humorous!

Nolanel: Answer me yours, then.

Elliot: You'll loathe me.

Nolanel: Try.

Elliot: August.

Nolanel: You're the stupidest man in the world! Heavens! Fury!

Elliot: Haha!

Nolanel: Gods, lightning could strike you twice and you'd beg a third. 

Elliot: I can't help it!

Nolanel: Your no-good taste needs to be studied. Self-destruction. Self-denial. All those things you say—and you doe-eye some imperial who looks at you like he hopes your pansy tongue rots in your mouth.

Elliot: Well, if only I spoke poison!

Nolanel: What'll it take for you to love an artist? 

Elliot: I couldn't possibly love a mirror.

Nolanel: Ah—Only soldiers who want naught with knowing your happy little theories about war.

Elliot: His eyes are gorgeous.

Nolanel: Ugh! The only man with the right priority in this damned country. Let him be.

Elliot: But I have! I don't court the thought of dying here by angering him like you have.

Nolanel: It'd be one nice thought in my brain to think you'd have the sense to darling something decent when I'm killed.

Elliot: No no, there's no betterment or forgetting where I'm involved. Aren't we supposed to sigh and look wan for the rest of our lives, and pray in the monastery that love was taken too soon and shall not come again?

Nolanel: No.

Elliot: You mean if my heart gave in this moment, you'd grow past me while I spent eternity in my glowing youth? I'd be the perfect thing to worship since I wouldn't talk back—and you'd open your affection to a distraction? Who?

Nolanel: That's propaganda.

Elliot: Stop thinking and just gossip with me!

Nolanel: No!

Elliot: 'Tis August, too! Haha!

Nolanel: Oh, fuck no—I'm not so ridiculous.

Elliot: I'll go down the roster until you blush.

Nolanel: Do what you want.

Elliot: That's what life is for. Now. Hm. Not Laelia—she has that miasma about her. Max is evil. Vicky is...

Nolanel: The only among them with a decent mind. She's sturdy and patient. She listens. But get out of the Garleans.

Elliot: Wyda, then.

Nolanel: Just to sicken her more? No, she's too argumentative. Always thinks she's in mandate of the only truth.

Elliot: Norhi doesn't argue, then.

Nolanel: Norhi is married. I'm no salesman. Besides, she has ears.

Elliot: You also have ears.

Nolanel: Hm.

Elliot: What if you married Xanadu instead?

Nolanel: You'd pawn off your wife like that?

Elliot: I make a terrible husband; I'm destined for bachelorhood soon. You would be a much more admirable spouse.

Nolanel: 'Tis true I can make bread.

Elliot: Oh! Ser Basile then!

Nolanel: Don't let him hear that pun; he'll probably enjoy it and I'll never hear his name right again. He's the man people need, but not me.

Elliot: Cass?

Nolanel: You want an answer, not a conversation anymore.

Elliot: So? Cass? 

Nolanel: Closer.

Elliot: Ha!

Nolanel: But there's a dragon where anything else ought to be. A stupid dragon in looks and manner, but still one.

Elliot: I should've expected so. It treats well with the chocobos, somehow, at home in the Bell house. I also appreciate that her hair changes more often than the seasons.

Nolanel: Is it supper time yet?

Elliot: We have to consider more names! Eliane? Brave? I know Yumi and Haru are no choices for you; nor dear Sasamu. 

Nolanel: I don't know anyone else. I doubt Lady Dufresne would enjoy knowing that an industry-despising dandy and former employee was flirting with the idea of setting his dragoon paramour away to disrupt her marriage.

Elliot: That's why gossip is only shared with trusted companions who would never speak a word to anyone. Except the daily press, perhaps. However! This is for amusement! Not—

Nolanel: 'Ey! What's love in this place worth? Who should I love among the residents of Alvarium?

<< SALUTATIONS. CITIZEN (Elliot Cadieux) AND GUEST (User Unknown), I AM PREPARED TO ASSIST WITH REQUESTS. THE CITIZENS OF (Alvarium) ARE MANY AND MAY OFFER UNIQUE RESPONSES TO YOUR QUESTIONS. WOULD YOU LIKE TO CONDUCT A PUBLIC SURVEY? >>

[cuban-feminist-that-gives-a-hoot]

Persona 3 Reload *SPOILERS*

So, I've let this sit for two weeks now and I think it's time for me to finally dish my thoughts. There will be spoilers for those that either haven't finished Reload or those who haven't played any version of Persona 3 at all. If you haven't done either one, I highly recommend you stop reading and go finish it *now*. This is your only warning at this point.

Have you finished it? OK, good. Let's get started.

Persona 3 Reload is a really, really good game. It makes what was once old new again and playing through P3R gave me the same strong feelings I had back when I first played Persona 3 FES. It was like meeting an old friend again after they got themselves both a makeover and nearly 20 years passed between the last time you saw them in person.

Let me get my nitpicky stuff out of the way before I heap the praise it deserves.

I straight-up did not like them taking away school club choice from us. How dare they?! I wanted to do Kendo and Photography like I did in FES, yet I was stuck with Track and Art? If I had to be stuck with a culture club, music should've been the canon club of choice. Our protagonist literally wears headphones all the time! You can't show me the music room at least thrice and tease me with us seeing it, yet not joining the club.

I hate the name change for Operation Babe Hunt. What's wrong with calling it Operation Babe Hunt? The name was fine! It was the creepy behavior of the boys and the transmisogyny that was the problem in it in the original, not the name!

The AI programming is shit. Look, a majority of folks bitching about not being able to control the characters in the original game and FES are being whiny babies that don't know how to use the tactics menu. It's a nitpick because I know that the game has decidedly gone for direct control, but honestly? I would've loved the sophisticated AI that Persona 3 and 3 FES used to be utilized.

Folks bitching about the High-Cut Bikini honestly just need to calm the fuck down. You don't have to use it if you don't want to. Whatever happened to the "Don't like? Don't use!" mindset? You're not being forced by evoker-point to use it.

The music is a downgrade. Lotus Juice is fine as always, but the new singer had a tough job to take over for Yumi Kawamura and fucking failed. The new songs that Yumi never sang are fine, but the new versions of the original songs? Oof. It is bad. Mass Destruction was whack and the less said about her version of Kimi no Kioku, the better.

So, yeah, those are my main nitpicks. Now onto the praise.

The voice acting is top-tier. And I need to put it in a second post because it would be too long. Just know that the English dub is fantastic and no one misses in it at all.

The extra scenes and hangouts we get with the boys are perfect. It fleshes out the guys in ways I wouldn't have expected. For example, I never knew Akihiko was adopted and has parents until Reload put that in there. Do you want to know where that information was originally known? In an artbook and a drama CD! Thank you, Reload, for giving us this vital information I never knew about.

The animation where there's a fusion accident is the funniest fucking thing they've added to the game. I love it, it's hilarious.

They made Shinjiro's death even sadder than the original. For those who have not played the original/FES, Shinjiro has enough strength to walk off before dropping dead under a streetlight. It was a more surreal, trippy moment for his death than anything else because of the art direction in the original/FES. In Reload? They went with what was shown in the movies, with Shinjiro dying in Akihiko's arms. If I had a nickel for every time the edgier of the two men in the ship die in the other's arms, it'd be two nickels. It's not a lot, but it's weird that it's happened twice now. Not to mention the link episodes with Shinjiro are killer. You actually get to see how Shinjiro would look in his school uniform and, fuck, seeing baby Shinjiro, Mitsuru, and Akihiko together is just... it breaks the heart. And that conversation with Mitsuru the day after when you go in Shinjiro's room? Fucking ow! Way to break my heart, Shinjiro.

I'm glad that you *can* save Chidori's life. My Junpei/Chidori heart is so happy about that. And Junpei's second theurgy? Heartbreakingly beautiful, whether Chidori lives or dies.

I am so glad the game allows us to ask why Takaya doesn't wear a shirt. Strega's motivations have always been clear to me from day one. But Takaya, why the fuck do you not wear a shirt?

But yeah, those are my thoughts. It's a good remake. If you're not certain it's for you, try it out on GamePass. Otherwise? Buy it, you won't regret it.

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex

Summary: Dr. Spencer Reid plays a trivia game at the request of his wife, Y/N, but he’s in for more than some heaving hitting questions. 

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Wife Reader 

Word Count: 1.5k 

Author’s Note: I really don’t think that this summary does this justice

I’ll Take X-pecting for 200, Alex 

Shuffling the cards with a shake in her hand, Y/N tells herself to just breathe. This is something that Spencer and her have been looking forward to, dreamed about, and constantly discussed. Regardless of how much she knows Spencer loves her, there’s a lingering seed of doubt that only grows with the sound of Spencer walking into their house. 

“Y/N!, I’m home, darlin’,” Spencer calls from the hallway, dropping the “g” because he knows that Y/N finds it endearing. 

“Baby,” Y/N yells from the table. “I’m in the dining room. I made us a trivia game! Come play with me, I need your brains,” she finishes, smiling at her husband, who has been away for nearly two weeks.

“You know do I love trivia, Y/N,” Spencer says. He takes a seat next to his wife, but before he can kiss her, she pushes him out of his chair and motions for him to take the seat opposite of her.

“Before we start, how was the case? Everyone make it home in one piece?” Y/N asks concerned over the wellbeing of some of her closest friends. 

“Everyone’s fine, Y/N. The unsub ended up being a team. Two women hellbent on getting revenge for their children’s murders. One of them got away,” Spencer explains, solemnly. 

“Oof,” Y/N says, letting out a sigh. “It’s at times like these that I’m glad I don’t have your job. I’m kinda glad she got away, between you and me.” 

“It’s hard, sometimes we don’t really know who we’re bringing justice too. But, I’d do anything to protect my future children, and you. Anything I needed to do to keep you safe,” Spencer tells her, leaning across the table and kissing Y/N’s hand. She gives him a sheepish smile, but inside her mind is eager to get this trivia game started. 

“You’re a charmer, Dr. Reid,” Y/N flirts. 

“Just for you, Y/N. Now you mentioned something about trivia,” Spencer says, clapping his hands together excitedly. 

“I just thought you’d like to rest your brain after a case but shifting though all those facts you got stored up there. And I always said you should try out for Jeopardy,” Y/N says as she collects the cards with the clues. 

She spreads out the categories, Child Psychology, Children’s Books, Labor & Delivery, Nursery Rhymes, X-Epecting, on the table. They were all handwritten on different colorful pieces of cardstock and decorated with baby animals and block letters. Y/N read the categories aloud to her husband, allowing herself to steal a glance at his face while he concentrated on the categories, as if he already could answer the questions. 

“All right, Spencer, you pick first,” Y/N says, in her best Alex Trebek impression. 

“I’ll take Child Psychology for $200,” Spencer chooses, looking up to smile at Y/N. 

“This is the substitute mother that baby monkeys formed an attachment to in Harlow’s psychological experiment,” Y/N asks.

“Terry-Cloth,” Spencer interjects. 

“Not uh, Spence, you need to answer correctly,” Y/N teases. She looks up at him expectantly to choose the next clue. He rolls his eyes at her, but secretly he enjoys the playful banter they still share even after all these years. 

“Um, Children’s Books $200,” 

“This is the story of the clever spider that can weave words in her web,” 

“What is Charlotte’s Web?” 

“Correct, pick again please,” Y/N says, as she tries to maintain a stoic composure. 

“This is the average of days that newborns keep up their sleepless parents,” Y/N asks, sure that this question would stump her genius husband. But to no avail, Spencer answers the question correctly. 

“Okay! Next time try-outs are around, I’m forcing you to take the test,” Y/N says running over to kiss Spencer on the cheek. 

“You know judges are supposed to remain impartial, Y/N” Spencer tells her, putting his arm around her waist as if he’s signally her to sit in his lap. 

“I can’t help it, how about you win kisses every time you get a question right, Spence,” Y/N proposes. 

“I guess it’s worth more than fake money,” Spencer teases.

“You offend me, baby!” Y/N pretends to be hurt by Spencer’s words, but urges him to continue the game. 

“You only got a couple more left, Spence,” 

“Okay, how about X-Expecting for $200,” Spencer chooses. 

“This chromosome is linked to the baby’s mother,” Y/N quizzes, finding it difficult to keep her smiles and secrets at bay when Spencer’s arm tugs around her waist tightly and his fingers draw patterns under her shirt. 

“What is X-Chromosome,” Spencer answers before Y/N can even finish the clue. 

“You know that you’re supposed to wait until the clue is read, Spence. I should redact kisses,” Y/N fake threats. 

“No! Y/N I’ll die without your kisses, please!” Spencer cries out in pretend disain. Much to his amusement his goofy behavior leads Y/N to plant small pecks on his forehead. 

“There, that should hold you over,” 

“I doubt it, Y/N. I miss you already,” Spencer mutters into her shoulder, as if he’s trying to get closer to his wife more than he could already be with her sitting on his lap. 

“Two more clues till Final Jeopardy,” Y/N announces, ignoring the fact that she’s bypassing the rest of the clues and totally disregarding Double Jeopardy. 

“Hmm, let’s go to Nursery Rhymes for kissing for the rest of my life,” Spencer picks, peppering Y/N’s shoulder with kisses. 

“Huh! Look at that, Spencer, you got the Daily Double, so whatcha going to wager?” Y/N asks, knowing she’s pulling this Daily Double straight out of the air, but Spencer’s affection for only one lifetime is not nearly enough for her. 

“I’ll make a true Daily Double, darling. That means double the amount of kisses,” Spencer tells her, ticking the sides of Y/N waist. 

“Here’s your clue, Jack is urged to be nimble & quick, helping him do this,” Y/N reads from the card. 

“What is to jump over the candlestick?” Spencer guesses, closing his eyes to be assaulted by Y/N’s eager lips. 

“Yay! Double kisses!” Y/N yells happily as she pecks Spencer’s eyelids and nose, causing him to laugh at her light affection. 

“Next question, it’s the last one so you don’t get a choice, but I have so much confidence in you, my genius husband. These are the names of the 3 stages of labor?” Y/N questions, looking over her shoulder to get a glimpse of Spencer’s mind at work. 

“What are dilation, expulsion, and afterbirth,” Spencer answers, once again perfectly. 

“Okay, Dr. Reid you’ve accumulated a total of double kisses for the rest of our lives. Your Final Jeopardy category is, Ready For It…” Y/N announces. 

“Last one,” Spencer says, and Y/N wonders if Spencer’s figured it out by now. She hands Spencer the small cardboard box. He looks at it curiously and Y/N can feel her heart in her stomach. He must know by now, she thinks. He’s brilliant, but sometimes he can be a little clueless when it comes to things like that. Y/N thinks back to how they danced around each other for years before Derek practically had to force them out on a date. He must know. 

“You’re clue is inside the box, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her voice shaky and unsure. 

Spencer carefully opens the cardboard box and reaches in to pull out the small pregnancy test that lay hidden inside. He looks it over, reading the test twice, three times, maybe even four times. He honestly can’t remember taking longer to read something. Spencer looks up at a terrified Y/N. 

“You’re pregnant? We’re going to have a baby?” Spencer asks, desperately wanting to believe what he holds in his hand. 

“You’re gonna be a daddy, Spence,” Y/N tells him, her smile struggling to conceal itself in between the bouts of happiness and joy that courses through her veins. 

“A baby! Oh Y/N. A baby!” Spencer shouts rushing over to where his wife stands in between the entrance from their kitchen to their dining room. 

“You’re happy, right Spence. You want this with me-” Y/N starts, a sudden rush of fear lodging itself in her heart. 

“Of course I’m happy, Y/N. I’m so happy to be a dad. You’re going to be a mom! You’ll be the best mom, Y/N. I love you, Y/N,” Spencer says, crouching down to rub his hands on Y/N’s belly. 

“Hi sweet baby,” Y/N says softly, looking down at her belly and covering her hand over Spencer’s. “I want you to meet your daddy. He’s going to take care of you so well, he might talk a lot but you get used to it” 

“Hey, baby. It’s your dad,” Spencer murmurs quietly into Y/N’s belly. “I’m so glad that mommy told me about you. You gotta do some growing in there before you can meet us, but we love you so much, baby,”

“I really love you so much Y/N,” Spencer says as he sits up to kiss his wife. 

All his life Spencer’s loved science. He loves discovering the undiscovered. Memorizing all those theories and facts and methods could never prepare him for the awe that sat before him. He realizes that he’s looked at science all wrong. There's a beauty in science- a natural, unadulterated beauty that’s so rare to find. But he’s found it and he’s never letting go.

Thank You for Reading!

Taglist: @calm-and-doctor​ 

If anyone wants to be tagged in new posts, feel free to comment and I’ll be thrilled to tag you <3

[fruitcoops]

okay so we all love dad dumo and he's an incredible parent but even dumo isn't perfect. Could we maybe have dumo snapping at logan (or sirius, if it strikes your fancy, but i love dumo+logan dynamics) and then apologizing for it like a parent actually f*cking should

Oof, yes. Combined with asks for Sirius and Logan bonding, as well as some pre-Cap and James. SW credit goes to @lumosinlove!

TW for parental figure disappointment

The car rumbled. Dumo’s hands squeaked on the wheel as he flexed his fingers. Logan felt like he was going to throw up.

Can we turn around real quick? No, too vague. Can we go home so I can use the bathroom? No, he’ll say I can wait another ten minutes. I forgot my phone at home? No, he saw me put it in my pocket. Logan ran through every possible way of asking to go back to the Dumais house without giving away his dilemma; with each scenario, they grew further from where he needed to be.

“Hey, Dumo?” he began quietly, swallowing around his dry mouth. What was it his father always said? Honesty is the best policy. “We need to go back to your house for a moment.”

“We’re already running late,” Dumo said, not even sparing him a glance in the rearview mirror. The traffic around them was a mess. “If we go back, we’ll miss the first part of warmups.”

“I know, but it’s kind of important.”

“So is the game. If it’s your wallet, you don’t need it right—”

“I left my skates by the front door.”

Dead silence filled the car as Dumo slowed to a stop at the fourth red light. Logan’s heart sank and his stomach crawled into his throat. “What?”

“I left my skates by the front door,” he repeated, staring at his hands. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking—”

“Tabernak, Logan!” Dumo snapped. He felt something inside him wither and die. “First the nap, then forgetting to wash your jersey, and now you left your fucking skates behind? What’s going on in your head? You are an adult now with responsibilities, and it’s your job to keep track of your shit.”

“I know,” Logan said quietly.

Dumo huffed. “Clearly you don’t! Do you just not care? Is that it?”

“I care.”

“This isn’t a college team, Logan.” Dumo’s accent grew harsh around his name. It had been a bad day for him—Adele came down with a nasty cold just after Celeste left to visit her parents for the weekend, and there was always an added pressure with home games. Logan knew that, and he knew he should have been paying better attention.

“I know.”

Dumo muttered a curse under his breath and pulled onto a side road, then swore again when his duffle bag slid in the passenger seat. Logan closed his eyes; there was no way they would make it all the way to the house and back to the rink in time for pre-game rituals. Damn it, Tremblay. What were you thinking?

They drove the rest of the way in silence. Dumo parked the car with a quiet “go”, and Logan hurried inside with a slight nod to the babysitter as he grabbed his skates before slinking back to the car with his head hung low.

“I’m really disappointed in you,” Dumo said when they reached the freeway again.

“I’m sorry.”

He received no response.

They won the game despite skipping all their superstitions, no thanks to Logan. He played like shit; Arthur barely gave him four shifts the whole night. Finn shot him a concerned look as he rinsed off and slipped back into his street clothes, but Logan didn’t have the energy to confront both his best friend and the upsetting feelings connected to the aforementioned best-friend-slash-secret-crush. If he tried, he’d certainly end up doing something stupid.

He packed his things, slung his bag over his shoulder, and followed Dumo out to the car like a stray dog with his tail between his legs. “I really am—”

“I don’t want to hear it,” Dumo interrupted as they pulled out of the parking lot. Logan pressed his lips together. “Are you hungry?”

Starving. “Kinda.”

“I’ll heat up some leftover lasagna when we get back to the house. Will you pay the babysitter and make sure the kids are in bed?”

“Sure.”

“Thank you.”

Logan ground his teeth around the steady ache building in his chest—he hated disappointing people in general, but it was a whole different story with Dumo. He was his second father, the person Logan admired most on the team. He gave him a home and a substitute family to ease the homesickness, and was always there to cheer him on. And Logan let him down.

They went through their nightly routine silently, which was a sharp contrast to their usual banter. Marc and Louis refused to go to bed at first, nearly bringing Logan to tears in his frustration, but he eventually got them settled down and tucked in. By some miracle, both the girls were already asleep.

“I’m going to call Celeste,” Dumo finally said as Logan unloaded the dishwasher. He nodded without a word, not trusting his voice.

As soon as the dishwasher was full and running, Logan took his phone out and dialed the only person he wanted to hear from. It rang twice before connecting. “Hello?”

“Hey.” His voice cracked and he cleared his throat. “Hey, Cap, what’s up?”

“Not much.” Sirius sounded confused, and more than a little tired. “Ça va?”

Logan’s eyes burned. “Not bad. Do you have a minute?”

There was a rustling noise from the other end, followed by the clink of keys. “You’re at Dumo’s, right?”

“Oui.”

“I’ll be there in ten.”

“Thanks,” he managed around his tight throat. “See you soon.”

Hushed voices came from the living room and Logan padded down the hall, knocking gently on the doorframe. Dumo looked up and furrowed his brow. “Un moment, mon amour. Are you alright?”

“Sirius is coming by in ten. We’re going to hang out for a bit, if that’s okay.”

“Tell him I say hello.” Without another word, Dumo uncovered the base of his phone and returned to his conversation. Logan nodded and headed back out into the hall, swallowing down the tears forming behind his eyes.

Ten minutes turned out to be seven minutes—Logan was simultaneously flattered and concerned—and a soft knock startled him out of his thoughts. Sirius already looked worried when the front door swung open. “What happened? Is everyone okay? Did something happen to Celeste?”

“She’s fine. Dumo says hi.” And he’s horribly disappointed in me. Logan took several deep breaths through his nose to control the tremor in his voice and Sirius gave him a worried once-over. “Can we drive around for a bit?”

“Of course.”

For all of his bluster and general brooding vibe, Sirius continued to be the king of empathy and (in Logan’s opinion) a secret mind-reader. The second his arm draped across Logan’s shoulders and held him close as they walked down the sidewalk, he felt some of the pressure in his chest release. “Sorry about the late call,” he sniffled. It was a cold night—the snot threatening to drip from his nose was frigid already. “I just—I needed to get out for a minute.”

“À tout moment.” Any time. Logan didn’t feel deserving of that kindness after the mess he had been on the ice. The heaters kicked on as soon as Sirius started the car and Logan closed his eyes, leaning back into the warm seat. “Can you tell me what happened?”

“It’s so stupid.”

“Doesn’t sound like it.”

Logan took a moment to breathe before shaking his head. “I forgot my skates. We were already running late, and I forgot my fucking skates at the house.”

Sirius hummed, but said nothing.

“It’s—Dumo has been having such a horrible day.” Tears clogged his throat again. “And I took a nap earlier because I stayed up late last night like an idiot, and Adele’s sick so he had all the kids and no help while he was trying to get ready, and then I overslept so it was already going to be rushed and forgot to clean my jersey and then—and then I forgot my skates. God, I’m so stupid.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true.”

“It’s not.” Logan wanted to kick him for being so infuriatingly patient. Sirius glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “That’s not why you’re upset, though.”

“He’s—” Logan broke off and swiped the first tear away with his sweatshirt cuff. “He said he was disappointed in me.”

“Ah.”

“It’s such a stupid thing to be upset about.”

Sirius sighed through his nose and pulled into the parking lot of a 24-hour Taco Bell, then turned off the car and faced Logan with one eyebrow raised. “Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Belittling yourself.”

“Okay, Heather,” Logan snorted. Sirius reached over and flicked him on the forehead. “Hey!”

“You forgot your skates. Big deal. We’ve all been there.”

Logan shot him a glare. “You’ve never forgotten your skates.”

“Yes, I have. My very first game with the Lions, actually. Except I didn’t realize it until we were already at the rink.”

“Did Dumo drive you back?”

“The whole damn way. He was mad as hell, but he did it.” Sirius’ face softened, and he poked Logan gently on the thigh. “Stop kicking yourself for this one. It sounds like it was a bad day for you both.”

“I still feel like shit.”

Sirius shrugged. “I bet. Disappointing Dumo is the worst feeling ever.”

“He wouldn’t even let me apologize.”

“He will.”

They sat in silence for a full minute as Logan tried to find the right words. “How did you deal with it? Letting people down. It feels like I’m drowning, sometimes.”

“Really, really poorly,” Sirius half-laughed, crossing his ankle over his knee. “It wasn’t until I was named captain that I started accepting that people weren’t lying when they forgave me for fucking up.”

“Why?”

“Believe it or not, the people I was around as a kid didn’t make a habit of apologizing to me when they did something wrong.”

Logan looked up from the faded letters on his sweatshirt sleeve and sniffled. “Thanks for bringing me out here.”

“Pas de problem. I figured you could use some company outside the house.”

“You’re the best.”

“I try.”

“You succeed.” You’re like a brother to me, actually. “Is this what James did for you?”

“No,” Sirius laughed. Affection took over his face, bright even in the dim light from the streetlamps. “No, he snuck me onto the roof of the rink with massive amounts of junk food and stayed with me until the imposter syndrome faded. It was fantastic, but we nearly got hypothermia several times in the winter. This is much more comfortable.”

“Thanks for helping me keep all my fingers and toes,” Logan said wryly. He lapsed back into silence and folded his forearms on the dashboard, sighing at the pleasant stretch of his back. “I know I have to go back eventually, but I’m scared.”

“Honestly, Logan, I bet he’s already forgiven you. He knows it was an accident.”

“But what if he doesn’t?” The words came out as little more than a whisper. Sirius’ hand rested hesitantly between his shoulder blades until Logan leaned back into it, then began rubbing gentle circles.

“He does,” Sirius said softly. “And he loves you so much.”

Logan sniffed back more tears. “Really?”

“Ouais. You’ve been living with him for nine months now, and he’s so proud of how far you’ve come.”

“How do you know?”

“Because he told me. Last week, after your hat trick. People fuck up, Logan, but that doesn’t mean they’re unforgivable. You don’t need to flay yourself for one bad day.”

Logan shut his eyes with a slow exhale and buried his face in his forearms. “I think I’m ready to go back now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah.”

“D’accord. Buckle your seatbelt.”

He straightened up and stretched, wincing at the crack of his back. Sirius drove out of the parking lot and hummed under his breath to the radio, but Logan didn’t miss the careful glances out of the corner of his eye. “You don’t need to worry about me,” he finally said. “I’ll be okay.”

“I know,” Sirius said casually, though he looked like he was holding something back. Logan didn’t press; Sirius would talk in his own time if he wanted to. He opened his mouth, paused, then sighed. “But I do worry about you.”

“Why?”

“Because.”

Thank you, Captain Black, for the most media answer of all time. “You really don’t have to.”

Sirius parked the car and leaned his head back against the seat. “You’re my friend, and I care about you, so I worry.”

Logan blinked at him. “You care about me?”

“Obviously,” Sirius muttered. Even in the darkness of the street, his cheeks were pink. “Now go on, you've got someone waiting for you.”

“I care about you, too.”

“Out of my car, Tremblay.” Despite his words, a smile quirked at the corner of Sirius’ mouth. Logan socked him lightly on the arm and opened the door, shivering in the night air as it bit through his hoodie.

“Drive safe, Cap.”

“I will.”

The walk to the front door felt less like a trip to the gallows and more like coming home; Logan felt his muscles relax, and saw the curtains shift as someone moved away from the window. Dumo opened the door before he could even knock.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison. Logan raised his eyebrows and Dumo opened the door the rest of the way, ushering him inside.

The moment the door closed behind him, Dumo wrapped him in a hug. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier, Logan. You made a mistake, and I shouldn’t have come down hard on you.”

“I’m sorry I made us late,” Logan said into his soft shirt. “And for not helping earlier. It won’t happen again.”

“All is forgiven.” Dumo patted him on the back of the shoulder and held him at arm’s length with a sad smile. “I should have kept a better handle on my temper. You don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.”

Logan bit back the urge to say it’s okay or I deserved it and instead pulled him in for another hug. “Thank you for everything you’ve done for me. I didn’t realize how much you’ve helped me until today.”

Dumo made a quiet sound and held him tighter. “It’s a gift to have you here.”

Logan squeezed his eyes shut as a wave of emotion rolled in his heart. “There is nowhere I would rather be,” he whispered. They stayed like that for a long moment, swaying slightly, before Dumo stepped back.

“Get some rest. We have early practice tomorrow.” He mussed Logan’s hair and gave him a nudge toward the stairs. “Bonne nuit, mon fils.”

Mon fils. Logan’s breath caught for a second and he smiled. “Bonne nuit.”

[five-rivers]

A Gift Unasked For

For Dannymay Day 17: Freedom

.

“Help!”

The cry was barely loud enough for even Danny to hear it. That was saying something. His entire existence was tuned to respond to cries and requests for help. Him hearing a cry for help was like the Lunch Lady hearing someone talk about, well. Lunch.

He spun slowly in place, his earlier errand forgotten, trying to gauge where it had come from.

“Help!”

There!

Danny flitted towards the source of the sound, darting between ghostly trees. He paused again. He wasn’t sure if he had gone too far.

“Help!”

He adjusted his path slightly and set off again. He wasn’t sure what help was needed. A shout might alert attackers to his presence. It was better being quiet for now.

Even if it hurt, not letting this person know help was coming.

He skidded to a halt, seeing an old woman ghost trapped under a fallen tree. That was a bit… anticlimactic? At least he’d be able to get to the Far Frozen on time.

“Hi!” he said, giving the old woman a grin. “I’m going to try to get that off you, okay?

“Thank you, young man,” croaked the ghost woman.

“No problem,” he said. “I like helping people.” Was he telegraphing his Obsession? Yes. But so did most ghosts (cough, the Box Ghost, cough) and he thought it might put the woman at ease. “You’re okay with me just picking this up, right? It isn’t, like, stabbing you or anything? Or, wait, that’s mostly a human problem. Organs.”

“I’ll be quite alright if you can just lift it,” said the old woman. “I have been trapped here for quite some time.”

Oof. In ghost terms that could be forever.

“Say no more, say no more,” said Danny. He pushed the log up, careful not to let it pinch the poor woman even more. It was a bit odd – The log wasn’t all that heavy. Then again, ghosts could come in different strengths just as humans could. Just because he mostly encountered stronger ghosts didn’t mean they were all like that.

The ghost flew out as soon as he removed the pressure.

“Oh, thank you!” said the ghost. “I thought I would be trapped there forever.” She pressed her hands to her heart. Well. Core. Sort of. “However can I repay you?”

“You really don’t need to,” said Danny. “It was—” Don’t say it was nothing. Danny had learned that could offend people of certain cultures, and he didn’t know where this woman came from. “It only cost me a few minutes,” he settled on. That was the complete truth.

“Oh, but it meant the world to me.” She put her hands on either side of Danny’s face.

Danny smiled, feeling awkward. This was a bit of an uncomfortable situation, socially speaking, but she remembered him so much of a grandma that he didn’t really have it in his heart to rebuff her.

Then again, the Lunch Lady had also reminded him of a grandma at first.

Maybe he should just…

“I know!” she exclaimed. “You set me free, so I’ll do the same!” She planted a kiss on his forehead. “There you go, sweetheart. All those worries, let them drift away.”

“Um,” said Danny. “Okay.” He bit his bottom lip. Nothing in particular seemed to have happened. “Well, anyway, if you’re alright, I’m meeting some of my friends…”

“Have a lovely time, dear.”

“Thanks,” said Danny, flying away with a wave.

Okay. That had been weird. Anyway. Time to visit—

Who was he visiting?

Frostbite, right. Far Frozen.

Huh. That encounter must have distracted him more than he thought.

He flew towards the Far Frozen and let his mind wander as he did. He thought back to this morning. Before he’d been distracted by the cry for help, he’d been upset because… Because… By? He’d been upset about something.

Maybe it hadn’t been all that important in retrospect?

Well. This was going to be a nice, long weekend, so he could relax, take it slow, maybe play with Sam and Tucker when he got back. Tucker had been talking about the new expansion of…

Of…

What was the name of that game? This was ridiculous. He’d been playing it for years.

He frowned. He been learning things from… Learning things. Once was happenstance. Twice was coincidence. Three times was enemy action.

He increased his speed.

.

Frostbite was happily preparing for Phantom’s arrival later today. He looked forward to every time he saw the young ghost.

Perhaps this was why he was so taken aback when Phantom crashed right into him, sobbing, and burrowed into his fur.

“Great One,” he said, “what’s wrong?”

“I’m forgetting,” he said. “I’m forgetting.”

.

Phantom sat quietly in one of the ice-carved chairs in the library, totally absorbed by the book on his lap.

“He does not remember anything, chief?” asked one of the warriors standing in the doorway.

“Nothing,” said Frostbite, thoroughly unnerved. “

“The Lethe?”

“It does not work like that. It is not slow.”

Phantom gasped, then bounced out of his chair and up to Frostbite. “Look at this! Look at this! It’s so cool!”

“Yes,” said Frostbite, humoring Phantom. “It is, isn’t it?”

“I wonder what they look like in person.”

“About the same, I suppose.”

“That’s so cool!” He drifted back to his chair and curled up again.

“Chief?”

“Yes?”

“What are we going to do?”

Frostbite sighed. “I wish I knew.”

[clockworklozenges]

So, a good five or so years back, I played in one of the best worst DnD games I have ever been in. The DM had bought the Libris Mortis book, which, if you were unaware, was a 3.5 splatbook adding in a lot of undead stuff, including some monsters and undead player races and stuff. Wanting to try it out, me and my gaming group decided to play things from it, our then DM deciding to run a completely homebrewed session. This proved to be a...

Terrible Idea™

(for the uninitiated, never homebrew something you do not fully understand unless it's just cosmetic. If you want to make all elves worship the god of garlic bread, Ultimo-Metatron-Omega, go ahead, but unless you know how the game works, don't make mechanical changes). So we all picked stuff from the books-one player played a skeleton Sorcerer who in life was a tribal shaman, but an attempt at healing went wrong, turning him undead as his life energy was replaced with negative energy, explaining why most of his spells were necromancy and suchlike.

Another player played Krug, an antipaladin in very spiky full plate. He was a zombie made by a necromancer of a paladin who was fighting him, but his allies killed his would-be master before he could assert control, and not wanting to just off him, his allies just...yeeted his body into a portal and hoped it'd re-kill him. It did not kill him hard enough. It did, however, explain his stats which...oof. He had already got debuffs to some stats due to being a zombie, and rolled abysmally. Fortunately for the player, he played mostly to socialise, so didn't much care.

I played... Count Nox Feratu, the Campire. As in, a vampire with a very camp German accent, which I did not break for the whole time I was playing him. To the point where "ach, nein, I haf bin heet! Heal me, meine freunde!" was par for the course. My overly camp vamp was a wizard, but due to level adjustment was a bit of a shoddy one. For backstory, he'd been ousted from his clan for ineptitude, and had sworn revenge. I was going for a swordmage build but never got there. All his spells were utility or just necromancy spells.

Our last player played...sigh...Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of Nerull, God of murder and undeath. He was one of the clerics from the book's murder Domain, meaning that he got buffs to damage. He was a vicious arse both in character and out of it, and was so dripping with edge compared to the paladin with the same IQ as a horse after its trip to the glue factory, the shaman who thought killing fixed people and the Campire that if you gave him a pat on the back you'd have finely diced your hand into a red mist. Not going too outlandish with his backstory of wanting to dominate the world as his undead thralls, Damien F***ing Bloodmoon had only taken spells which either charmed live people, dealt negative energy damage or messed with ability drain and suchlike, which he used with aplomb on townsfolk on our way to our objective. He was also, importantly, playing an elf of some sort, I forget which kind. Meaning that of the party, only one was alive.

So, just as an aside, for those of you that haven't played 3.5e DnD or have only played 5e, in Libris Mortis, undeath was gone over in detail, and had a litany of pros and cons. For one thing, undead had only the HP they had-folks like Damien F***ing Bloodmoon could be 'dying', and had some time to be stabilised before meeting the reckoning of Papa John and dying proper. Undead did not, it was just how much you had and if you ran out, poof, you're dust, bones and fertiliser again. You were also harmed by positive energy, so healing spells hurt you, as did potions of healing. However, undead were kind of hardy - poison immunity, some had resistance to non-magical melee damage, stuff that drained your ability scores and levels didn't work on them, some crits wouldn't do extra damage, and the best part- negative energy healed undead. Meaning all the spells our party had which damaged others like the living Damien Bloodmoon were curative ones for us. Keep this in mind.

So, we began our quest, learning of a necromancer a nearby town was plagued by. After using our skills (to whit: Damien Bloodmoon charming and drawing the life force out of random villagers and the only potion seller in the town whilst we went shopping. Krug got a snazzy hat, which we put on top of his helmet, and we chatted to townsfolk as I looked alive enough to pass as human and the shaman had a fake beard and toupee that people were too awkward to point out was fake so went along with it) we learn that the necromancer has a base of operations in the cemetery. "Oh ja, zo original, dahlink. Ve vill need to educate zis guy on vhat is chic and vhat is just shabby!"

So we head there and the nightmare begins. Damien Leads the charge, using all of his knowledge to deduce that the shambling horde moving towards us were stronger-than-your-average-bear undead, and he was right. These were powerful armoured zombie mages of some sort, casting ability draining spells, negative energy ray spells and even having auras of negative energy that dealt damage on a failed Fortitude save. Even their punch and quarterstaves did negative energy damage as well as the usual bludgeoning or unarmed. However...only one of us was really in danger and the DM's face fell when the squishy casters walked up and began shanking their super-special homebrew zombie wizards, being healed by the damage of their attacks as we cut them down.

Like I said, one of the benefits of undeath is that negative energy actually heals you. So the strikes of the magic staves and punches that hit us did some basic damage. Which was then immediately healed by the negative energy their weapon strikes and spells were doing.

However, you'll recall that Damien Bloodmoon was an elf. And not dead. Being a Cleric of a death god doesn't mean that you have the abilities of an undead. That meant that even with the DM being merciful, by the end of the first fight he was covered in blood, mud and withered away to just above half his original strength and constitution. More were patrolling, so we had to run. But that posed a problem.

Remember Krug had heavy armour? And recall his awful stats? He in fact, hadn't got enough strength to wear the armour he'd been given for backstory. He didn't, according to the DM, have enough to remove his own armour. And we attempted to, but also failed our checks according to the DM. And Damien Bloodmoon refused to help, simply blaming Krug and his player. Krug's player thought it was hilarious, and Krug only had enough Intelligence and Wisdom to say his own name, so saw no problem. And Krug, Nox Feratu and Shaman realised that there really...wasn't a problem.

For us, at least.

We slogged through three combats dragging Krug and wading through the mud with him. His speed was so slow that for every step he took, we took about ten. The DM was confused and infuriated that his encounters weren't working, but refused to change them. So we had fun role-playing. Or at least three of us did.

Damien Bloodmoon refused to roleplay, and none of his ranged spells could affect the zombie mages. When he went into melee, he came out wounded as all hell. He went down twice, and it was only the healing supplies of the shaman that saved him.

All the while, he was... Let's say not best pleased. Damien Bloodmoon was getting increasingly wounded, exasperated and longing for the sweet embrace of death as reprieve from the humiliation. His player was getting increasingly redder and rage-filled as time passed. Each fight ended with our characters stronger than ever and his a bloody pulp on the floor, with poor in-character knowledge (and terrible rolls) preventing him from realising why.

Eventually, we reached the final boss, pausing only to paint Krug's armour in contact poison just in case, and to find a stick to help the now-partially-crippled Damien Bloodmoon, cleric of death and murder, walk after being beaten up by angry zombie wizards for hours. And it had, indeed, been hours. Among us, only Damien had a bonus to strength, and we had two swords, a mace and a staff between the four of us. Meaning it was re-death by a thousand cuts for the enemy and a slog and a half for us.

We reach the necromancer and, having taken so long due to dragging the oblivious Krug with us, his big ritual is complete- he raises a fist-sized black onyx egg aloft, crackles with arcane power and causes the bones around him to coalesce into one massive creature - an undead, giant-sized rust monster, radiating an Aura of pure negative energy. Krug opened his arms wide, eager for the metal-eating monster cockroach to free him from his poison-painted metal prison. It ignores him as he's still very far away. Me and the others have our weapons and armour devoured.

Our DM was very much a stickler for note-taking. So because Damien Bloodmoon hadn't written 'clothes' on his sheet, his armour being eaten by the monster left him naked and afraid.

It became clear that the DM had done another f***y-wucky. See, the Aura of negative energy healed me and the Sorcerer by more than its other attacks did. So whilst Damien Bloodmoon was naked, soaked in mud and bleeding to death almost crushed to a pulp in the fetal position, rocking backwards and forwards as his player seethed with hatred, the Shaman and the Campire set about beating the thing to death with our bear hands and a stick.

The session ended once we killed the necromancer, or rather when Krug walked up to him, closed his arms and just crushed the noodle-armed bad guy to death with the weight of his ridiculous armour and poisoned him with its paintwork.

We never revisited the game afterwards. We were told later on that the DM wanted us to use the non-undead races. But at no point had he said as much, even when we asked him about our characters and the restrictions on them. We also learned a valuable lesson. DM for the players who are there, not the ones who you have an idealised mental image of. Tailor your game, otherwise you'll get a sitcom featuring a camp nosferatu, a shaman with no healing, a paladin who could barely move and a Cleric of murder who was ironically the only one at risk of actually dying.

[lyallblacklupin]

Sirius tries to remember Remus.

Post-Azkaban Wolfstar: Angst with Hopeful Ending.

Sirius is battling with his memory after Azkaban. 12 years of dementors torturing him, that had caused some real damages to his brain. He doesn’t remember people until they introduce themselves to him. Everyone is steering clear his way but Remus hasn’t given up on him yet.

These days are sickening. They make you feel so lonely and ugly. They tell you—no they scream at you that you don’t deserve anything. Know why? Because you don’t matter. You don’t exist. The most horrifying thing about those voices is that they can make you believe they are saying the truth. Like I did. And I still do, and believe me, it’s not good.

Life is just unfair is so easy to say, it’s just a slip of tongue as if you are consoling a group of people, like Madam Hooch used to when we would lose to Slytherins because they played dirty. However, realizing the fact how unfair life really is, is gut-wrenching. It forces you to become unlike yourself. It puts malevolent ideas in your head for the people who you love—or used to loved. I would go on and blame these walls, but then I’m questioning the universe that why did I have to be born here? The Grimmauld Place 12? And then I’m eventually answered; Life is unfair, you git, haven’t you get it yet?

The nights are terrible here, I hear Kreacher whispering to my charming mother’s portrait, I hear the floor creaking even though no one comes here, except they are invited by Dumbledore—which sounds weird because it’s my house but again, life is just unfair.

Right now, I’m struggling to sleep because there is a prickling fear sitting at the edges of my body. The fear of Dementors for taking the last of everything away.

I still have some good memories, like the one when James made me Harry’s Godfather. Harry’s big emerald eyes were streaming with fat tears until he was given into my arms. I can remember that I had gasped at the scene, and so did the others in the room.

“Oh Sirius! He was crying for like an hour! But he stops now!? I swear this is not a coincidence!” Lily said, but James had been quiet.

“Prongs?” No answer.

“Prongsie? Hey!” Because I caught him pressing his hand on his mouth forcefully, his face blotchy, and he didn’t stop sniffing. He was crying! “What? Like you—father and son both work alternatively? When Harry stops crying, he transfers his weeping mantra to you, and vice versa?”

“Shut up!” Before I said something, I let out an ‘oof’ because James shoved me in his embrace, sandwiching Harry in middle of the process. Harry was giggling with his tear-stained face. His laugh was like music to my ears. I didn’t mention that. I was in love with Harry. He felt like my own child. I never thought I’d feel this exuberance but there was, more than I expected. I was bad at displaying true affection in front of people, but I couldn’t help when Harry’s tiny and chubby hands brushed the collar of my jacket, utterly in awe with the feeling of material on his fingers, I completely forgot James was hugging me, and I managed to press a kiss on Harry’s cheek. He smelled like soft babies. I was in love with that scent. I wanted to hold him forever.

I can never forget that memory. It helps me cast a patronus. There is also something vague about that memory. There is someone too in the small crowd, behind me, other than James. I can remember there was the blonde girl, Mckinnon, and her best friend, Meadows-something. I struggle with names. Sometimes I forget—

“Sirius?”

—Remus’ name. I have to see or hear the person to see if I can remember.

“I’m in my room?” He calls me out every time for like the hundredth time he has found me in my bedroom, and yes, I am still in my bedroom. He won’t stop calling me out. Sometimes, he is very annoying.

“Oh yeah, Of course.” He appears at the doorway, leaning to his left, smiling weakly. He looks tired. He is short of breath. I want to give him a glass of water but my limbs are protesting.

“I could give you a glass of water, but I—just don’t feel like getting up.” I didn’t want to say that but I did because the expressions on Remus’ face are priceless. There is awkwardness written on his face with a hint of shock and sadness. There is nothing pretty about that, but it brings back an indistinct memory I enjoy that I cannot tell. I am disturbing. That’s another trait I have discovered about myself ever since I came back from Azkaban.

“No, it’s alright. I just had water. Not thirsty at all. I—umm…I brought you something.” He says, and then I notice a package in his hand.

“Hope it’s not something you and your werewolf buddies plays with.”

“Ha, no, I wish. But it’s something I needed to give you…from a very long time.” He comes and sits beside me. I had to sit up because I can’t let him touch me. I don’t know why but I am always scared of Remus Lupin, and it is my secret, “Here.” He gives me the package, and looks into my eyes. I try looking away but I couldn’t try harder.

“Happy Birthday.” He whispers, and it sends a shudder to my body. What is the date today?

I open the package, and there it is. A photo frame. It was a leather frame. Black. I am trying not to look at the picture so I distract myself by admiring the leather. And again, I remember Harry. But it is a forced visualization so it doesn’t last longer. I am very much aware of Remus’ presence. I am also getting short of breath now. I look at him and he is already staring at me. I smile at him, but he frowns. And then I frown, too. What is wrong? I saw his hand coming up near my face, and I bat away.

He is gawking at him with wide and horrified eyes, and a hurt expression.

“I—I’m sorry. I don’t…I just—I am sorry. I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I know you don’t. But you eventually do.” It doesn’t come out bitter. He is smiling at me, but he isn’t done talking, “Sirius, I want to talk. It is eating me alive. Sometimes, I don’t think I am left with much longer in me…But, hey,” He reaches out but stops immediately, “Please…I—I want to talk to you about…Everything or anything. We can talk about us?”

“Us?”

“Yeah…If you want to,”

“There is no Us, Remus.”

“There used to be.” I snort, but he is frowning. I hate his frowns. Why can’t he just smile like a normal person?

“Like what? Did we snog? Or shagged once or twice?” I can’t recall any heterosexual experience, so I can’t say I have never done anything with a guy.

“Sirius, was that picture not enough?” He said with such sadness. And then I look at the picture.

And then I see it. There is a younger version of Remus Lupin, wearing a giant grey jumper, sitting on a library’s table. How decent. There is someone in between his legs, standing before him. It is a dark-haired guy, wearing a Gryffindor tie on his hogwarts’ uniform. He has his hands wrapped around Remus’ torso. A thick curtain of his long hair is almost concealing the half of his face, considering how much it is already buried in Remus’ chest. He squeezes gleefully which causes the younger Remus to erupt with laughter. The scene goes back and forth. And then I spot two people sitting in far distance. They were unmistakably James and Lily. They are the only people I recognize. Those two are cackling because how stupidly romantic the two boys are acting against each other. The picture keeps playing, and I focus again on the couple in the spotlight, and I realize that little Remus is trying to press a kiss on the guy’s forehead but the other person doesn’t stand still, constantly whipped his long hair—and then I freeze all of a sudden. Because I see it. The grey eyes, the long hair, and especially the scar on the left wrist, which still glows sliver in the daylight when I secretly stand in the balcony.

“That is us.” It comes out of my mouth even though I never expect myself to say it.

“Yeah, you and me. We were not just each other’s quick snog, or shagging partner. We go way back, Padfoot. Longer than James and Lily.”

“I don’t remember you…” It comes out as a whimper. I feel stupid and vulnerable.

“I’m sorry, Sirius. I’m sorry for what I did. I never apologized about this…I wanted to—“

“I don’t remember you…”

“—but I never really got a chance. I’m sorry I thought you could betray the Potters. I’m sorry that I kept myself believing for twelve years that it was you. But I swear to Merlin, I never stopped loving you—“

“I don’t remember you, Remus…” But he is not listening.

“—I used to hate myself for this. I felt disgusting that I still loved you. And then I melted myself in filthy thoughts. No one was there to judge me. I used to picture you all the time, sitting on the sofa waiting for me to come back from the muggle job you hated. I used to see you laying on the bed in the night. I used to imagine myself cuddling up with you. And some days, it was so real that we used to talk till dawn. We used to watch the sunrise together. October 31st used to come and go by, and we pretended it was just another Halloween and you used to say ‘Moony, you hate Halloween because some people dress up as werewolves, and you don’t get to wear a costume!’—“

I stop saying anything. I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I do. His hand accidently rubs shoulder, and I am suddenly yanked to my happiest memory—Harry’s beautiful hands reaching my jacket—and the ‘someone’ is not just someone who is behind me, rubbing my lower back and laying his head against mine, because it was him. It was Remus Lupin. It is still Remus Lupin, I want him to be.

I cannot tell that I don’t remember him because I am starting to…and it’s a start. He keeps telling me how he spent the last twelve years, so I listen to him because my years were not in an open cage just like his. It was scary to be locked up for years and never to see the people you love, but it must have been even scarier to be free for years and never see the people you love. Remus Lupin has suffered too, and I can’t help but be there for him. 

So as he keeps rambling his stories about his undying love for me, I slip into his space, and wrap my arms around his torso, like I had in the picture, and bury my face into his chest. He is not warmer as he must have been in that picture but it calms me down because his heart is beating against mine, and I am happy to have him alive with me.

Thanks for reading! Stay magical!

[angstymdzsthoughts]

I promised that I would share the convo me and @time-flies-by​ had earlier today regarding the Maleficent AU post, so here it is!

-

time-flies-by Dude that Maleficent AU-

angstymdzsthoughts I knoooow

angstymdzsthoughts It got a bit dark on me

time-flies-by It did, but goddamn was it good!

angstymdzsthoughts Right? I'm super happy with it

time-flies-by As you should! It actually gave me chills

angstymdzsthoughts WWX goes to sleep in his husbands arms, happy and in love. Wakes up to that husband mutilating him Thank you!!!

time-flies-by The best part, is that LWJ doesn’t even see anything wrong with it. He’s just like, “it has to happen”

angstymdzsthoughts Yep! Just another part of getting married to him

time-flies-by WWX definitely leaves understanding Madam Lan a lot better.

angstymdzsthoughts Oof LWJ grows up around spouses who seem perfectly happy with life after losing their wings And his mother, who still had her wings, was miserable So he thinks hes actually helping to make WWX happier

time-flies-by Double oof WWX really doesn’t understand what he was getting himself into.

angstymdzsthoughts Oh my god other spouses try to warn him (in a quiet subtle way so their husbands don’t get upset)

angstymdzsthoughts All the Lans are taught that this is a special, intimate experience between spouses

angstymdzsthoughts I feel like Su She is jealous that LWJ got to experience that and is vindictively happy when WWX ran away

time-flies-by Oh my god, the Lans all brainwashed into thinking that the tight smiles, and the tears are signs of love, when in reality their spouse is trying so hard to not hate them. Soakxldowkenenw fuxking Su She

angstymdzsthoughts The spouses are all trapped. Oh wait

angstymdzsthoughts The "soulmate" thing only happens once or twice in a generation and Madam Lan had been the most recent before WWX so the spouse around who tries to warn him away is an old woman who has been married and trapped in the CR for life 55 years That makes it so much worse

time-flies-by Oh my god, imagine wwx accidentally runs into the the wing room, and is absolutely horrified to find all the wings there, so he goes to lwj and is all like “Lan Zhan? What’s this?” And LWJ just goes “don’t worry Wei ying, I’ll make sure that never happens to you.” And what he means is “I’ll make sure your grounding isn’t as painful as theirs.” And wwx trusts LWJ 100%, but then their own grounding happens.

angstymdzsthoughts OOF Oh my god just rip my heart out

angstymdzsthoughts All I can picture is WWX crying and calling LWJ a liar before he's silenced Most disturbing part is how gentle and loving LWJ is being while hes Removing His Husbands Limbs Soft little praises and telling WWX that they will be happy together now

angstymdzsthoughts Ohhh WWX is totally gonna blame himself if he saw the wings and didn't immediately run Gets to Yunmeng like 'how could I be so stupid to believe him'

time-flies-by Ooh especially if the spouses before him tried warning him too.

angstymdzsthoughts Yes Exactly

time-flies-by WWX: The signs were all there. . . There was a red flag everywhere!

angstymdzsthoughts The way WWX sees it is like that 'face eating leopard party' meme Everyone else is just plain horrified

time-flies-by Oof 😂

angstymdzsthoughts LWJ is crying in the CR asking what he did wrong Yunmeng Jiang is ready to start a war in order to get WWX his wings back

time-flies-by Omg yesssss The Lans are all clueless and offended because they see NOTHING wrong with their traditions.

angstymdzsthoughts Someone tries to put it in perspective for them. "How would you react if your spouse cut off your hands?" But the Lans dont get it and just dig their hole deeper. "Thats ridiculous! You Need hands! Wings are in no way a necessity."

time-flies-by Aish 😓

time-flies-by Yeah no, the Jiangs are definitely cutting all ties with the Lan after that.

angstymdzsthoughts The Lans argue that wings do nothing but make someone fickle and reckless and arrogant. They Need to be earth bound so they can learn stability and humbleness ... Oh my god... Horrible thought

time-flies-by Do tell

angstymdzsthoughts Some children of grounded spouses end up with wings too But they get them cut off when they are younger Should it be LXC or LWJ who use to have wings?

angstymdzsthoughts Spend their entire adolescence being ashamed of the wings and eagerly waiting for the day they can be removed

time-flies-by Oooh maybe LXC?

angstymdzsthoughts The most recent wings added are a pair of small white ones maybe half the size of WWXs and the sight of them make him run out because he may be sick

time-flies-by Oh god, what if there’s like, a whole room just full of children’s wings.

Angstymdzsthoughts Of course the Lans would keep them Ohhh WWX hears people talking about the grounding ceremony that will follow the honeymoon and has no idea what their all talking about He asks and the Lans explain that it's a sacred ceremony between spouses that truly binds the new spouse to the Lan family WWX is like- oh wow that sounds really great! Like a big 'welcome to the family'!

time-flies-by Oh no that make it worse! WWX is super excited for the ceremony. He’s like hyping himself up nonstop.

angstymdzsthoughts Oh with the Lan members with wings- they normally have a form of the grounding ceremony when they get their courtesy name and become a Real Lan. Lose your wings and get a name Oh my gooood WWX and LWJ go to bed that night talking about how the bonding ceremony will be tomorrow morning and LWJ assures him that he knows WWX will be perfect

time-flies-by Oh god no, I’m just imagining a bunch of children scared but super willing to lose their wings, because they’d been taught that having them made them everything the clan was against

angstymdzsthoughts WWX, cuddling close: What if I mess up and make a fool of myself? No ones really told me what to do yet. LWJ, petting WWXs wings lovingly: Don't worry, I'll take care of everything Exactly

time-flies-by Oooh I just got chills again

angstymdzsthoughts Something about LWJ touching and admiring WWXs wings in this context... 😨

time-flies-by LWJ: once I get rid of these, he’ll be all mine.

angstymdzsthoughts Touching wings isn't a normal thing outside of family (given that touching in general isn't normal in Chinese culture) but WWX was always super ok with friends petting his wings. He totally offered to let LWJ touch his wings when they were teenagers after catching him admiring them

angstymdzsthoughts LWJ hadn't felt a wing since his mother died shortly after her Binding and WWXs are a really beautiful glossy black color that turns a dark, rich purple if the light hits them just right. Of course he wants to touch

time-flies-by 😥😥

angstymdzsthoughts LWJ, cautiously running one finger along the feathers: They are so big... WWX: Of course they are! My wings have to be big and strong to carry me while I fly! LWJ immediately snatching his hand back, suddenly cold at the remainder that WWX can and will fly away far, far away from him

time-flies-by LWJ is really undermining the love WWX has for him by being that concerned that he’ll leave him.

angstymdzsthoughts He got brainwashed by his clan and he saw his mothers constant attempts to escape. Everyone around him said that the only reason she was trying to leave was because of her wings. If his own mother would leave him because of wings, what would stop WWX?

angstymdzsthoughts Madam Lan got way too close to actually escaping and QHJ was pressured into finally doing the ceremony. Madam Lan didn't last long after that

time-flies-by sent a post Source (****)

angstymdzsthoughts Hahaha

angstymdzsthoughts You know what would be worse? Baby A-Yuan with wings

time-flies-by Oh noooooo

angstymdzsthoughts Like au where LWJ didn't do the binding and unbrainwashed himself Then A-Yuan is born with wings and he grows up being told he won’t be a Real Lan if he keeps them So his parents have no plans of removing them but as his naming ceremony gets closer Yuan says he Wants to get rid of them WWX is immediately packing a bag and getting him and his son the hell out of there. LWJ is right behind him with another bag

time-flies-by Oof yes I like that

time-flies-by But like what if, the day before they leave or something, A-yuan runs to the elders and tells them about what his parents plan to do, and he’s so desperate to get rid of his wings that he asks them to just do the ceremony there and then

angstymdzsthoughts AAAAAAAAAA

time-flies-by When LWJ and WWX wake, they’re so stressed cause they can’t find A-yuan, but a few minutes later he comes in all proud and wingless

angstymdzsthoughts I mean since its Maleficent au wings are apparently magic and can be put right back on but Still Horrible WWX cries LWJ is gonna fight to get his sons wings back and then get his family the hell out of there Oh my god..... LWJ walking through a room full of tiny, near identical wings looking for the little pair that he would recognize anywhere

angstymdzsthoughts Let's a few tears out when he finds them. Remembers helping WWX clean and groom them and watching while WWX taught their son to balance and fly using those wings Hates himself for not seeing what his clan was doing to LSZ and not getting them away from all of it sooner

time-flies-by Codnekaoenen perfect

time-flies-by Heartbreaking, but perfect

angstymdzsthoughts Also, if things had gone according to plan and they left before LSZ did the Binding Yuan, struggling and crying: But I won’t be a Real Lan! WWX, throwing Yuan over his shoulder to carry him mid tantrum: Then you're gonna be a Wei. Lan Zhan, would you please carry this bag? LWJ, taking the bag: Mn. Wei Yuan sounds nice.

angstymdzsthoughts Then they go to Yunmeng so LSZ can grow up in a healthier environment

time-flies-by Oh I like your version better.

angstymdzsthoughts You brought the pain, I brought a bandaid

time-flies-by Haha yes yes, thank you

angstymdzsthoughts Oof tho. LWJ finds the wings and brings them home where WWX is guarding Yuan while he sleeps. They Return the wings while Yuan sleeps and return to making plans to go to Yunmeng once Yuan wakes When he wakes up and has his wings back he bursts into tears.

angstymdzsthoughts Could be because he really missed his wings and is glad to have them back or because this means he's gonna have to go through the grounding AGAIN and it really hurt the first time and he doesn't want to go through it again. Maybe both

time-flies-by If both, then WWX and LWJ will do their best to reassure him that he won’t have to go through the grounding ever again.

angstymdzsthoughts Aww little Yuan crying so hard he can hardly breath and bringing his wings around himself so he can pet and groom them because he needs to make sure this is real and their back

angstymdzsthoughts Oof. Imagine LXC seeing this and wishing he could have kept his wings. Goes to visit his wings and knows that they are too small to fit his body now that hes an adult so he's lost his chance

time-flies-by *sigh* we really should give LXC a break.

angstymdzsthoughts Never Ok how about he gets his wings back and even tho there too small because they never got the chance to grow with him and he'll never be able to fly hes so unbelievably happy WWX and Yuan teach him how to groom his wings correctly because the only person who ever did that was his mother and he cant quite remember how to do it

time-flies-by *sniff* family bonding time

angstymdzsthoughts He starts an arrangement with Yunmeng Jiang so he can send any winged Lans to them for half the year so they can learn that having wings Isnt the worse thing in the world

time-flies-by Oooh yes yes That’s good.

[boyduroy]

What Friends Are For

"Bill! Did I tell you I lost another tooth?!" Richie asks excitedly as they sit on the swing set, idly digging the toes of their shoes into the playground sand. The two of them sway lazily on the swings as they watch the other children laugh and play.

Bill replies, "Only about s-s-six times today."

Despite this, Richie sticks his tongue at Bill through the now double wide gap in his front teeth. Thankfully this tooth fell out naturally instead of as a result of Henry Bowers.

"I got another dollar for it. I wanted to spend it on candy but my dad says I should save it."

Richie spins his swing in a circle, twisting the chain until it can't tighten, then lets go and spins quickly as the chain unwraps itself. He laughs as the swing snatches him sharply once fully straightened out, shaking his head dizzily. Bill watches him with amusement, a pleasant smile on his face. It still feels like yesterday when this messy-haired boy with his face full of freckles and glasses too big for his head planted himself into Bill's life. It was an uneasy start for Bill, admittedly, as he had spent the majority of that day just trying to get Richie to leave him alone. But Richie proved to be nothing if not determined, and he had decided that the two of them would be friends whether Bill liked it or not. And Bill decided he did like it.

"Did you still wuh-want to s-s-s-sleep over this weekend?" Bill asks as they watch a gangly boy with curly hair run past.

Richie nods enthusiastically. "Yes! I asked my mom and she said yes." He smiles, his tongue poking out again between the gaps in his teeth. "I got a new comic book, I could bring it if you want to read it. I've already read it twice, it's really good!"

"Yeah, I'd l-like that," Bill says. He draws a random shape in the sand. "Do you like p-p-pizza? My parents said w-we could order p-pizza if we b-both agree on a tuh-topping."

Richie thinks for a moment. "I really like pepperoni but--"

"Hey!"

The two look up as the curly-haired boy from before jogs up to them. He wrings his hands nervously, his face slightly red from running around.

"Hey," he says again, a bit winded. "Can you help me with something?"

Bill is already standing. "What's wrong?"

"I'm trying to find a teacher, but I don't see any out here," he says. "There's this kid being bullied over by the baseball field. I want to help him but..." The boy looks down, ashamed.

Richie jumps up as well. "The teachers are probably having a smoke break behind the gym. Come on!" He turns to run off, not towards the gym but to the baseball field.

"R-Richie, wait up," Bill calls, following him.

"Hang on, we need a teacher!" interjects the curly-haired boy, but he, too, is close behind.

The three of them hurry to the baseball field. There they find an older blonde boy holding something over a mousy kid who appeared to be crying.

"Give it back!" the boy cries, pawing at the object that was maddeningly just out of his reach.

"Why?" comes the mocking reply from the blonde kid. "Didn't anyone ever tell you you're not supposed to have drugs at school?"

"It's not drugs," he wails. "It's medicine for my asthma! I need it!"

"Medicine is drugs, dummy," the blonde boy laughs. He tosses the object back and forth between his hands, playing one man monkey in the middle with the mousy boy, who tries feebly to catch it.

"Hey!" Richie shouts, taking a step forward. "He said he needs his medicine, Connor, give it back!"

Connor sneers at the newcomers, Richie in particular. "Oh yeah, four-eyes? What are you gonna do about it?"

Richie doesn't appear to actually have a plan other than yelling at the bully, so Bill steps up next. "W-we've already told the teacher," he lies. "He's on his way over n-now."

"You lie," Connor spits back, but suddenly looks unsure of the situation. He looks at the crying boy at his feet, then to the three of them crowding around him, then decides not to chance it. "Whatever, I've got better things to do than hang out with babies." As a final insult, he offers the object - Bill can see now that it's an inhaler - to the mousy boy, then turns and quickly throws it over the chainlink fence. The boy screams as it sails in a wide arc through the air and lands in the outfield. "Later, nerds," he yells, laughing as he runs away.

"Yeah, you better run, you butthead!" Richie yells back, but Connor is already out of earshot.

The curly-haired boy is at the mousy boy's side once the coast is clear. "Are you okay?" he asks urgently, a hand on his small shoulder. "It's okay, he's gone, just calm down now."

The boy sinks to the ground and whimpers, glancing at the baseball field, then begins to cry harder. The curly-haired boy sinks with him, rubbing his back in a comforting manner.

"It's alright, just breathe," he murmurs, but frowns when the sobs turn into choked gasps. He looks back to Richie and Bill, his eyes wide. "I think he's having an asthma attack!"

Bill and Richie, momentarily frozen by the scene, instantly spring into action. Richie launches himself at the fence and climbs over, landing on the other side with a small "oof!" Bill, noticing the gate to the fence is right next to them and was unlocked the whole time, flings it open and races after Richie. They skid to a hault in the field, which had yet to be mowed for the ball season, and frantically searcg for the inhaler amid the grass. Nothing, nothing, then a glint in the sunlight. A small canister with the name Eddie K. written in marker on a piece of tape.

"Got it!" Bill announces, grabbing the small canister and running back to the other two boys, Richie hot on his heels. The latter attempts to go back to clambering over the fence until Bill drags him to the wide open gate.

"Here, Eddie," Bill says breathlessly, kneeling down and thrusting the inhaler into the curly-haired boy's hand. The boy shakes it quickly, flicks the cap off the mouthpiece and shoves it into Eddie's mouth.

"Here, breathe in."

Eddie inhales deeply, gratefully, and grabs the inhaler himself to administer a second dose. His erratic breathing slows as he catches himself, the other boy still patting him gently. Finally he sighs and looks up at the three of them.

"Thank you," he whispers, then at Bill, "How did you know my name?"

"I-i-it's written on your inhaler," Bill points out.

Eddie glances at his own medicine, forgetting momentarily that his mother labels almost everything of his. "Oh. Right."

Bill smiles. "I'm B-Bill, this is Richie," he says, gesturing to himself and Richie. The latter beams his front-tooth-less grin at Eddie.

"I'm Stanley," the curly-haired boy adds, pulling himself to his feet. Eddie, no longer crying, scrambles up as well. "Thank you guys for helping, I didn't think I could do anything about it by myself."

"Hey, what are friends for?" Richie says, giving Stanley a friendly slap on the arm. Stan blushes and finds a welcome distraction dusting off his khakis.

"Do you have a stutter like all the time?" Eddie asks Bill.

Richie frowns and throws a protective arm around Bill. "He was in a car accident, he can't help it. Don't you dare make fun of him--"

"No, I would never make fun of someone for something like that," Eddie replies, holding his hands up. "I was just asking!"

"It's okay, R-Richie," Bill says, defusing the tension. "H-he didn't mean anything buh-bad by it."

Richie glances at Bill but relaxes. "Sorry," he tells Eddie. "I don't like when people mock him."

Eddie nods. "Kids make fun of me for my asthma, so I get it." He puffs again on his inhaler - perhaps unnecessarily - and pockets it.

"They make fun of my glasses and the way I talk too much," Richie adds.

"I get made fun of sometimes for being Jewish," Stanley pipes up. The other three stare at him blankly.

"What's that?" Richie asks.

Stan frowns, as if he isn't exactly sure. "It's my... It's being Jewish. I'm a Jew." He gestures to himself as if that explains what the word means.

The others decide to let it go, but Richie makes a mental note to pester Stanley about a more definitive answer later.

Bill points to another part of the yard. "You g-guys wanna go play?"

Stanley and Eddie smile, and the four of them head off together.

[wormstacheangel]

Almost: Ch8

Final chapter is finally here! The bonus one will be posted hopefully soon but this the ending. Think of it as 15x19 and the next chapter is 15x20 except it doesn’t make you feel stupid. Or I don’t know how you’ll feel about this actually lol

Summary:  Dean and Cas finally use their words. And sometimes it's too late. Sometimes it's just the relief of just knowing that makes someone truly happy.

Read on Tumblr: Ch1 link | Ch2 link | Ch3 link | Ch4 link | Ch5 link | Ch 6 link | Ch 7 link

Read on AO3 link (maybe leave a nice little comment?)

Word Count: 2978 More Under The Cut

“Oh,” Sam quickly stands up and nudges Charlie to stand up with him. “Mick! You should come see Charlie’s café!”

Charlie was quick to pick up Sam’s plan - an obvious one - as they both stumbled over each other to push Cas inside the room and pull Mick away. Sam wrapped an arm around Mick’s shoulders, towering over him, while Charlie tugged at his arm.

“Um, I think I’ll just stay with Castiel.” Mick tried to pull away from them but Sam had already pushed him away from the office door. 

“Don’t be silly! I have like thee best pies in town!” 

Their voices slowly started to get further and further away. Mick trying to politely decline while Sam and Charlie talked his ear off. It would have been funny if Cas wasn’t standing right in front of him practically shaking like a damn leaf. His jaw was clenched as he kept his hands balled up in the dumb ugly trench coat again. He looked cute though. With nice fitting black jeans and a half-tucked in forest green sweater. Matching the fall weather perfectly. 

Dean swallowed hard before taking a step towards him. “Are you okay?”

“No.” He answered quickly and firmly. Cas’s eyes were looking at him now. Ice piercing through him and chilling him through his bones. Making him stop where he was standing. Still a few steps away from Cas.

“I’m sorry.” Dean’s voice was low, shaky. “I’m sorry, Cas. I’ll behave!” Dean took another small step towards him. “I’ll do better just don’t-”

Cas looked away from him, shoulder’s stiff as he poked his tongue at his cheek. “I just came to let you know that we’re leaving tonight. We’re going to the airport after this.”

Dean’s breath caught in his throat. This was goodbye. This was another damn goodbye and it felt so familiar, heartbreak and all.

“Don’t.” Dean walked towards Cas but stopped just an arm’s reach away. He hasn’t had enough time with him. And he knows - he fucking knows - that if Cas leaves that he would never see him again. Cas didn’t need money when Mick was perfectly well off. He would live comfortably with his dumb British fiance so there was no need for him to even come back. To come back to Dean. 

No. Cas was saying goodbye for the last time. 

Cas turned to look him over and his face scrunched up but that stubborn asshole won’t admit to his tears. Instead, he kept looking at Dean with a serious glare. 

“I thought I’ll get more time to...to maybe-” Dean continued as his hand reached out to take Cas’s arm but Cas pulled away. And shit. That. That fucking hurt. Dean nodded in understanding as he sucked on his lower lip. 

Don’t touch. Got it.

“Mick wants to go home early. He um, he doesn’t like it here.” Cas looks away again, looking down at their feet as his lips scrunched up. Nose wiggling as he let out a sniffle. “So it doesn’t look like we’ll ever come back to visit.”

“Is it,” Dean stuffed his hands in his pocket as he cleared his throat. “Is it cause of me? Did you get in trouble?”

Cas let out a loud hollow laugh and when he looked back at Dean he was smiling. It was so sad and broken before he wiped his tears away. “Of course it’s because of you! You fucking dumbass.”

“Okay, got it.” Dean nodded as he scratched at the back of his head. Should he reach for him again? He wanted to just pull him in for a hug but Cas doesn’t want that. “Maybe I can try to talk to Mick! Tell him that - no?”

Cas was shaking his head as he let out a shaky breath. His shoulders shook and finally, the stiffness was gone. “He doesn’t particularly like you anymore, Dean.”

“Yeah, I don’t really like myself right now either.” Dean shrugged before smiling at Cas. Cas’s shoulders fell as he let a soft chuckle before his face crumbled and he jumped into Dean’s arms. 

Cas hugged - no he was gripping him - Dean for dear life. His face tucked into the crook of Dean’s neck as his whole body shook with a soft sob. Dean’s eyes shut as he wrapped his arms around Cas. 

It was obvious now that Cas didn’t choose him. He was leaving with Mick and they’re never going to see each other again. Dean can’t even keep him in his life because he lacks basic self-control. All he wants is to hold Cas. To lean into Cas. To take his hand and walk down the sidewalk with him. To kiss him. To love him. 

“Stay?” His brittle voice was barely a whisper but he knew Cas heard him as he nuzzled his face deeper into Dean’s skin. The only response was another shaky cry so Dean kept his hold on Cas, fingers gripping at the back of his coat with a hold that started to burn.

“I’ll do better. I promise I’ll do better.” He sounded like he was pleading with him now and Cas pulled away just enough to take Dean’s face in his hands. His thumbs wiped away tears as he looked at him with knitted eyebrows.

“It’s not you, Dean.” Cas reassures him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said...I promise it’s not you.”

“Then why-?”

“I want to kiss you right now.” Cas smiles, such a sad depressing excuse of a smile. “I want to kiss you more than I have ever wanted to kiss anyone.” Then he shrugs as his thumb traced over Dean’s lower lip. “But I can’t.”

“Why not?” Dean kissed his thumb.

Cas let out a shaky laugh while he rolled his eyes. “You know why.”

“Mick.” Of course. He didn’t even know why he asked such a dumb question when he already-

“No. Well, yes. Him too.”

“What else is there, Cas?”

Cas tilted his head at him and narrowed his eyes at him with that damn look. The one that was asking are-you-really-that-stupid-or-are-you-fucking-with-me? Dean just raised his eyebrows in response. Waiting for Cas to answer.

“Do you really think I’m so fucking stupid, Dean?” Cas pushed away from him and crossed his arms over his chest. His fist digging into his side. “Just because you don’t introduce me to them doesn’t mean I don’t know!”

“Them? What the hell are you talking about, man?”

“I know you’re married, Dean!” Cas ran his hands through his hair in frustration. “God! I feel so gross!” He started to pace the small office as he rambled on in frustration. “I thought because you were married that I could...that we could be friends! But I was dead wrong. Oh fuck I was so fucking wrong!”

Married? Married! Cas thought...Mick has said...shit! Dean can only watch him as he tried to connect wires in his head.

Cas stopped and pointed a finger at him. “You know how guilty I’ve been feeling since I fucking kissed you again? I knew you were married but you were just...fuck I missed you so much! And you were right in front of me again.” He took a deep breath as he shakingly glared harder at Dean. “I love my fiance! I do but fuck - Mick is right, Dean.” He was pacing again, wiping tears as he went. “Mick is so right. We need to leave now before me and you end up fucking up our lives just because we still love each other.”

Those words made Dean blink back at him. He sucked in an audible breath as the realization hit him.

Cas then stopped in front of him with a dramatic eye roll and tilt of the head. “Dean? Are you really just gonna stand there and not say - oof!”

Dean took Cas’s face in his hands and finally kissed him again. He chokes down a cry as he kisses Cas slowly and softly. Feeling Cas melt against him and grip at his sleeves while his breath tickled Dean’s lips. 

When he pulled away Cas’s eyes fluttered open as his eyes started to round up and fill with tears. 

“You love me?” Dean asked as he pulled Cas close and nuzzled their noses together. Cas nods a few times quickly before chasing after Dean’s lips.

Their lips brushed, delicate, smoothly, as their salty tears mixed in between them. Cas’s finger shakingly pressed against the base of Dean’s jaw to hold him. They kissed once. Twice. Three times. Until they were both left dizzy and breathless while they leaned against each other. 

“Say it.” Dean’s voice was small but Cas smiled as he nuzzled their noses together.

“I love you, Dean.” Dean’s heart leaped in his chest and he couldn’t stop to think when he picked Cas up in his arms to sit him down on the open space in the desk. Cas laughed as he wrapped his arms around his neck and pulled him back down for another kiss.

“Your turn,” Cas tells him as he starts to pepper small kisses on the side of Dean’s face. Starting with the small tear on Dean’s lower lip and on his bruised up cheek. 

Dean laughs as he nuzzles his face into Cas’s throat, the giggle that Cas let out should be fucking illegal for how cute it fucking was. Kissing him and feeling so damn weightless and happy. He was just given a stupid amount of money but this - Cas in his arms - was the happiest he has felt in so long. He loves him! He loves me!

“I love you, Cas.” Dean pulls back so he can look at him while he says it. “Fuck, I love you so much.”

Cas sucks in a shaky breath as he looks at him and fuck he looked so happy. So damn bright like Dean was handing him the whole fucking moon. Cas leaned forward again but they both froze with lips barely brushing as they heard Cas’s name being called from the garage.

“Shit! Mick.” Cas pushed Dean off as he jumped off the desk and started to straighten up his clothes and smooth down his hair. Dean didn’t even realize he pulled at Cas’s arm until Cas tugged at it, eyes wide and worried. “Dean, please, I gotta go.”

“Don’t. Don’t go, Cas.”

Cas sighed. “Please don’t make this harder than it already is. We both already have-”

“I’m not married, Cas!” That made Cas stop. He opened his mouth to say something but nothing came out so Dean continued. Pulling Cas close to him again. Gently cradling his face as he looks back at those wide confused eyes. “I’m not married. I don’t know where you even got that shit from but I’ve never been married. Shit, Cas, I haven’t even had a damn date in a fucking year.”

Cas’s eyes kept flickering on him as if trying to read him. “But I-I...I came back.”

“You what?”

“I came back, Dean.” Cas repeats himself as he puts a hand over Dean’s. “A few months after I left. I couldn’t handle your rejection…But one day I just missed you. I needed to hear your voice so I went through my old phone to listen to your voicemails. I went through your text and then your emails.” Cas leaned forward to press his forehead against Dean’s. “Fuck, I’m so sorry I left you like that. It was a few months after your Mom died and I knew how you would get so I saved up money to come back. To see you. To take care… but I was too late.”

Those few months were all a big blur and Dean pulled back to look at Cas’s tearful expression. “You came back?”

Cas nodded with a broken laugh mixed in with a sob. “Yeah. Dropped out of my first year and everything. Gabriel was pissed.” Cas wiped his tears with his sleeve. “But you were already with someone. I-I saw you with a baby and figured…”

“Dude, that’s not my kid. Lisa and I only dated for a while after Mom died. She was just...she was just there.”

“But Dad said you guys were planning your wedding.” He looked past Dean again, with the faraway look in his eyes. “I had to go back to him because I didn’t have enough money to go home and he told me all about you two. That you were happier than anyone has ever seen you.”  Cas then blinked at him again. Focusing on Dean once more as his shoulders stiffened. He poked Dean’s shoulders as he glared at him. “He told me that you said I was dead to you. That you fucking hated me.”

Dean slapped his hand away. “Dude, stop poking me.”

“He said you hated me and wanted me dead, Dean!” Cas’s eyes were shaking now as he glared at him. “Do you hate me?”

“No! Shit, Cas! Course I don’t!” He grabbed Cas’s shoulders. “Is that what you thought this whole time?”

“Dad said-” His voice was low. 

“You’re Dad hated your guts, Cas!” He watched Cas’s lost eyes slowly start to click things together. “Why would you believe him?”

“I was surprised when you said you missed me when we saw each other again.” Cas laughed, it was a little manic. “Fuck and then you said you loved me! And - And it was all too much.” Cas meets his eyes again. 

“I wasn’t sure if you were messing with me. And I… And I-I-I couldn’t let you have so much control of my heart again. I just couldn’t, Dean.” Cas reaches over and cradles Dean’s face in his hands again. “Losing you - saying goodbye to you - was the hardest thing I ever had to do.”

Dean leans into the touch. “Then stop saying goodbye, Cas.”

“Then what am I supposed to do? I said yes to Mick already, Dean. I’m supposed to get married to him soon.”

“Do you love him?”

Cas nods slowly, a painful smile across his lips before he pressed their foreheads together. “But I love you more. I love you, Dean. It’s so fucking stupid how much I fucking love you.”

Dean took those words in. He swallowed them and tried to understand them before he did something he’ll regret. Cas loved him. He knows that now and he was so damn close. He was in his grasp and Dean knew that if he tilted his head forward and kissed him, that Cas would kiss him back. He knew. But it wasn’t enough. 

Dean grabbed Cas’s hand as he pulled them off of him, kissing his palms, before letting them drop and taking a step back.

“I’m sorry, Cas, but I think it’s time for you to choose.” Cas reached for him but then dropped his arms to his side. “I love you and I wanna kiss you but I won’t. Not if you’re already spoken for and I’m just fucking things up for you.”

Cas nodded as he started to nervously play with his engagement ring. 

Dean gave Cas his back. Not wanting to see him make the decision. Not wanting to see him walk away. 

This is it. Isn't it? After this, he’ll have no choice but to move on. They will finally have closure to their story. It was just the wrong timing. It was just too messy and filled with too much miscommunication to move on from. 

Cas already had a life. Had a home. Had someone he loved and loved him back. It was just Dean that couldn’t move on. Couldn’t stop thinking, what if? What if he never agreed on his date with Lisa? What if Dean caught Cas on time the first time he left? What if he pulls Cas into a kiss right now? 

Then Dean flinched as he heard the door open. 

And there was his answer. 

Cas was gone. Once again picking Mick while Dean was left behind. Not good enough to love. To stay for. 

He let his head fall into his hands as he took a deep shaky breath. No. He won’t cry. He won’t cry. Fuck. He won’t-

“Dean?” 

Dean quickly spun around to face him. 

“Um, I had to give the ring back.” Cas motioned as he closed the office door again. “We should probably stay here for a while. Mick is not taking the news so well.”

Dean was in front of him in a few long strides and held Cas from the back of the neck. Looking at him in disbelief. “You didn’t leave.”

Cas smiled back at him as he reached to wipe away tears from Dean’s face. “I didn’t leave.”

“Does that mean-?”

“It was an easy choice.” Cas wrapped his arms around Dean’s middle and kissed the corner of his mouth. “I pick you, Dean. Every time. I mean I do feel bad for leaving Mick like that when he just paid for the plane tickets but may-”

Cas didn’t finish his sentence as he sunk against Dean’s lips. A small gasp let Dean finally deepen the kiss between them and he felt like he finally knew what it was like to love someone. What all those cheesy rom-com movies talk about when you kiss the right person. When the right person loves you back.

“I love you.” Dean says as he starts to pepper kisses around Cas’s jaw. Going down his throat until he can nuzzle his nose into the crook of his neck. “Fuck, Cas. I love you so much and I promise. I promise. I’ll make you happy.”

“You already do.” Cas sighed as he held him, his hands going up and down Dean’s back. To reassure him. To tell him that he was right there. Finally staying. Finally choosing him. “I love you.”

And finally loving him.

Tag List 1: (Ask to be added or removed! I’m chill about it I promise.)

@galaxycastiel @superduckbatrebel @slipper007 @ar-bi-trary @winchestcas

@imlivingliferightnow @bi-bi-marie @nguyenxtrang @dancerdovegirl

@chocolatecakecas @trasherasswood @celestialcastiel @castiel-is-a-cat

@readeroftheimmortalbooks @marichankitty @confusedisaster

@castiels-bitch @destiel-bitches @tearsofgrace @wigglebox

[sweatersstyles]

Aw the valentines pieces was sooo cute. I just wish we got to see his reaction! Gah I love their dynamic together

Thank you so much for reading and enjoying it enough to send me your thoughts! I am always baffled by lovely comments such as yours. Since you and a few others were so kind I thought I would write a small continuation :) I hope you enjoy it just as much as you did the first part!

thank you @tbslenthusiast for being my wonderful beta as always!! 

You can hear his voice faintly through the door and just that alone has a smile brightening up your whole face, which was much needed after the hell you had just been through to make it here to him. 

You practically had to sell your soul to your boss to be able to do this; promising to work any overtime or extra shifts need to make up for it the second you got back. They had reluctantly agreed, and the second you got the green light from them your next task was clearing everything with Jeff. Not that you needed his permission, but it wasn’t like you could ask Harry too many details about his schedule over the next few days without him getting suspicious of what you might be up to.

Then from there was a whirl of making sure your flight time matched up to Harry’s schedule in the best way possible. Jeff had been eager to play along, wanting to help you pull off the surprise as flawlessly as he could. 

You hand hovers in front of the hotel door now, debating if knocking is the best choice or if you should just use the key that Jeff had the front desk issue you to let yourself in. You don’t overthink it too much, 3 quick taps against the wood to announce your arrival. You wonder if Harry will be the one to answer or if it will be one of the other unknown voices mixed with his behind the door.

You don’t have to wait long to have your answer, a petite brunette by the name of..your eyes go wide when you realize when the two of you had seen each other last, some fancy get together where you’d been far more tipsy than you should have been and wearing a dress more expensive than your casual attire of today. Your face flushes pink, you can feel the heat rushing to the skin of your cheeks and you silently pray she doesn’t remember that night. 

“Hi..,” You’re drawing a blank on her name, trying to search through the vague memories of your previous meeting. It was Harry who had introduced you two, bending to speak in your ear over the chaos of the rest of the room, gesturing to the very same girl who stood before you now. A new assistant..both names you’d been able to narrow it down to in your mind were so distinct you didn’t want to guess and offend her by being wrong. 

She takes pity on you, filling in the blank and giving you a kind smile, offering to take your duffel and other things as she ushers you into the room. Thankfully it’s a big enough space that Harry hasn’t spotted you yet, and by the sound of it he wasn’t even the least bit curious about who had knocked.

His voice is all you can focus on as you rush through carelessly tossing your bags into a small corner of the entryway. The bathroom door is open nearby and you swear you even smell the scent of his soap. 

A sudden wave of nerves hits you; what if he’s not excited to see you? What if he didn’t really mean it when he’d offered to have you come with him? He was working, afterall, and you would never want to get in the way or insert yourself where you shouldn’t be. You take a deep breath before finally stepping further into the room, pushing away the fear and letting your enthusiasm for being here override any anxiety.

Despite it being mid-afternoon, he sits at a table near a big window with a mug of coffee in his hand. The sunlight illuminates one side of his face in the most flattering way, as if even it knows how special the person it shines on is. Jeff spots you first, a quick glance out of the corner of his eye, not letting his gaze linger too long. There’s a momentary lull in the conversation and you take that as your cue to make your presence known.

“Hi, H.”

You think you may have been too soft with your greeting when he doesn’t react at first. It takes 3 heartbeats for him to look at you, and another beat for him to fully register that it’s you standing before him. He’s up and making his way around the table and you try to brace yourself as much as possible, but there’s still enough of a jolt that a small ‘oof’ is forced from your mouth when he embraces you. It’s not long before he’s pulling back, hands on either side of your face as he smacks his lips against yours. Once, twice, three times; you flash him a vivid smile when you realize that’s one for each day you’d been away from each other.

“Oh my god! How are you here? What..you said your job..that you couldn’t..oh, darling you didn’t..did you quit?”

“No, I didn’t quit. Just took a lot of convincing and..”

“And? I don’t like the sound of that.”

“I had to give up my time off for my birthday. So if you have any surprises planned for that week you should cancel them now.”

His hands rest on your elbows now, holding you close as if he thinks maybe you’re just an illusion he’d created from missing you so much, “Baby, you shouldn’t’ve done that for me. S’alright though, we’ll still find a way to celebrate somehow.”

He loosens his grip and leads you to an empty seat around the table, still keeping a firm grasp on your hand, “How was your flight? Did you eat? Plenty of leftovers from what we just had but I can have something else ordered for you..coffee, tea..”

He’s talking fast, even going so far as refilling the mug he held previously with the carafe that was sitting nearby. The hand that’s not clinging to yours reaches for the creamer before you stop him, “Harry, I’m fine, babe. Breathe.”

He does, huffing out a breath as he leans back in his chair, beaming at you as you pull the mug of coffee closer and add your own cream and sugar before taking a sip, “Sorry, I just can’t believe you’re here, can’t believe you’d come all this way for me.”

“I’d do anything for you, H. Have I never told you that?”

The smile he gives you makes it all worth it, reminds you why you’d be more than willing to risk it all for him, “A few times, yeah.”

“Oh! I almost forgot,” You stuff your hand into the pocket of your hoodie, finding the small tube of lip balm easily and presenting it to him, “Brought this for you, since you asked so nicely for me to bring it to you.”

“Thank you, angel. My lips will thank you later too,” He takes it from you and starts to remove the lid, but stops to smirk at you before asking, “Have you used it today?”

“Yeah, earlier. Right before I got here.” You pluck a strawberry from a bowl of fruit sitting in front of him, bringing it closer to your mouth, not paying attention to how close he’s gotten to your face. He surges forward, clearing the last bit of space, lips smushed against yours. It takes you so much by surprise that you have no time to react, pressing a hand to his chest to playfully push him away. 

He pulls back, grinning smugly as his hand brushes along your cheek over the flush of color blooming there. His hand moves downward, finger tracing along the curve of your now dry bottom lip. He lingers for just a second longer than he normally would, eyes conveying all the love he couldn’t express over the past few days you were apart.

You watch him as he plops back in his chair, pressing his lips and rubbing them together, further spreading the balm over parts your mouth may have missed. 

“Better?”

“Much better,” He reaches for your hand again, wiggling his fingers and making you chuckle before you comply, pressing your palm to his, “Everything’s better now that you’re here, darling.”

[theydontknowaboutusimagines]

Valentine’s Day Surprise - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 4)

Part 1 

Part 2 

Part 3 

As soon as Harry got out of Jeff’s car, he went straight into the airport. He still had about an hour to kill before his flight took off, but luckily he would be able to board sooner. He went through security and was now waiting for them to call his flight. Taking out his phone he scrolled through his social media accounts. Just because he didn’t post on it very often, didn’t mean he didn’t check it. 

Harry didn’t know why he felt nervous or anxious, but he did. Maybe it was because he couldn’t wait to see you or he was worried something would go wrong. He really needed to figure out what he was going to get you. Of course, he should have thought about this weeks ago, but he was distracted. He couldn’t believe he was one of those guys who waited until the last minute to get their girlfriend a present for Valentine’s Day. 

But then again, he was currently the guy who waited until the last minute to actually go see his girlfriend in person. While he was waiting, he decided to head into one of the airport gift shops to see if anything caught his eye. He really didn’t want to get you something from there, but surely if it was worth getting did it really matter where he bought it from. 

Everything in the gift shop was your typical gift shop items, LA merch, keychains, t shirts, and other random things. He sighed shaking his head as he grabbed some snacks to snack on while he waited. As he was checking out, he heard his phone ringing in his pocket. He saw Jeff’s name appear on the screen, so he answered it while he handed the clerk his cash. 

“What’d you forget to tell me?” Harry asked. 

“Don’t get on the plane!” Jeff blurted out. 

“What? Why? What’s wrong?” He asked. 

“Y/N’s here!” Jeff said. 

“What?” Harry grabbed his change and his snacks before heading out into the lobby. 

“She’s here. In LA... at the airport,” he breathed out. “Don’t get on the plane.” 

“The fuck, you better not be playing with me, Jeff,” Harry said. 

“I’m not... just... meet us at the door,” Jeff said quickly. 

Harry didn’t need to be told twice before grabbing his things and booking it through the airport. 

**

You and Jeff quickly ran into the airport, but of course, you could only go so far without tickets. 

“Do you see him?” You asked, standing on your tip toes. 

“No,” Jeff sighed. “Even if I did, he wouldn’t hear us.” 

“Maybe we should try his cell, just in case,” You said. 

“Already on it,” Jeff said putting his phone to his ear. 

“Don’t get on the plane,” he blurted out. 

“Y/N’s here,” he said again. 

“She’s here in LA... at the airport,” he breathed out. “Don’t get on the plane.” 

“I’m not, just meet us at the door,” he said before hanging up the phone. 

“You got him?” You asked. 

“Yeah, don’t know where he’s at, but hopefully he’ll be here soon,” Jeff said. 

Hearing that, you’re stomach filled with butterflies. Your legs bounced with excitement as you tried looking through the crowd for your boyfriend. There were a lot of people heading past security, but surely you would be able to notice him as the only person walking the opposite direction of everyone. 

“Come on, come on,” you mumbled. 

It literally felt like an eternity, when in reality it was probably only like ten minutes before you finally saw his big head peeking up in the crowd. A smile grow across your face and you wanted nothing more to run to him like you were in a romance movie, but the scary security guards were certainly prevent from your moment. 

Harry didn’t see you until he got closer and as soon as he did, he picked up his pace. Once he was passed security, you ran to him, wrapping your arms around him and jumping into his arms. 

“Oof,” he laughed wrapping his arms around you to hold you against him. “What are you doing here?” 

“I uh... came to surprise you. Had I not called Jeff when I got off the plane, you would have fucked up my plan,” you said. 

He laughed, “Sorry,” he said. 

“Um, guys, hate to uh, break up this lovely moment, but we should probably get going,” Jeff said, looking around at all the people standing around. 

“Oh, right,” you said, jumping down. 

Harry grabbed your hand and the two of you follow Jeff to his car. You both get in the back and as soon as Harry’s in behind you, he pulled you in for a kiss. You giggled against his lips while Jeff shook his head. 

**

When Jeff pulled up to the house Harry was staying at, Harry got your bags and his own before waving Jeff goodbye. 

“Be safe!” Jeff smirked out the window as he backed out of the driveway. 

You giggled following Harry inside the house. Once you both were inside and the door was shut, you heard bags drop to the floor and felt arms wrap around you. 

“I can’t believe you’re here right now,” he smiled into your neck. 

“I know. I can’t believe you were about to flying to England when you already told me you weren’t going to go,” you laughed. 

“Yeah, that slight change of plans literally happened this morning,” he winced. “Jeff got some things rescheduled last minute.” 

“So, that means either way you have the next few days completely free, right?” You smiled. 

“It does,” he smiled. “What about you? How long are you going to be here for?” 

“At least the week,” you said. 

“I love you,” he smiled, pressing kisses all over you face. 

You laughed turning around in his arms to face, “I love you, too.” 

“You must since you came all the way here,” he smiled. 

“And you must since you were willing to go all the way home and back,” you smiled. 

“Guess we’re just made for each other, huh?” he smirked. 

“Yep,” you nodded, jumping into his arms and wrapping your legs around his waist. “Now, I do have one request.” 

“And that is?” He raised an eyebrow. 

“Feed me. I’m starving,” you laughed. 

He laughed, “I’m sure I have some thing I can whip up in my kitchen.” 

“Thank you! I had this whole plan of going grocery shopping or getting take out on my way to meeting you, but that got fucked up thanks to you,” you joked. 

“Well, this is one way for our first Valentine’s Day together to be memorable,” he laughed carrying you into the kitchen. “Speaking of, do you have anything else planned since you were the one to make the trip here?” 

“You’d think, but not really. I thought maybe it would be better for us to make a plan together, plus I wasn’t sure if you would the day off,” you said. 

“I do,” he smiled. “I’m not needed on set until later this week and since it’s the weekend, I don’t have any of my meetings until Monday.” 

“I thought you said your meetings got rescheduled?” You asked. 

“Some did,” he said, looking through the fridge and pantry. “But the ones that weren’t, I’m doing on zoom.” 

You nodded. “So, I probably shouldn’t walk around naked then?” You joked. 

“I wouldn’t go that far, love,” he winked. “Just stay clear of the camera.” 

You giggled, nibbling on some fruit he took out. 

“Anyway, what about you? Do you have any work shit to do?” He asked. 

“Other than checking in with my beta readers and editor? Not much,” you said. “I finished my other draft before I left, so I can’t really do much with it until I get all the feedback. I do have some other things I can look over, but nothing too pressing for a deadline.” 

“So, what you’re saying is, we technically have a lot of free time together over the next few days?” He asked. 

“Yep,” you smiled. “So much you’ll probably get sick of me.” 

“Yeah and by then you’ll be on your way back to London,” he joked. 

“Fuck you,” you laughed, throwing a strawberry at him. 

“Hey, I’m more than willing to take you right here and now, but I’m trying to be a gentleman and feed you first,” he smirked.

“My hero,” you laughed. 

“Anyway, back to our plans,” Harry said. “Would you mind if I was in charge of them?” 

“I don’t mind,” you smiled. “If that’s what you want to do.” 

“It is,” he smiled. “You came here, so I want to make it special.”

“We’re together, so it’s already special,” you said. 

“Then that means I don’t have to worry about too much,” he joked. 

“Ha, ha,” you laughed. “But seriously, you should know me. I don’t care about fancy dinners or anything. I’ll be grateful and happy with anything you plan.” 

Harry smiled kissing your head as you wrapped your arms around his waist. You smiled leaning into him because your actual Valentine’s Day celebration hadn’t even started and it was already your favorite one. 

**

Part 5 will be the last part! Let me know if want anything included for Valentine’s Day! 

[tsarisfanfiction]

In Your Shadow

Fandom: Thunderbirds Rating: Gen Genre: Family Characters: Gordon, Scott

Random thing that wouldn’t leave me alone until I wrote it, so here it is.  Missed half a very important meeting because I lost track of time writing this, whoops...  More Scott&Gordon because I will die on this hill.

“Tomorrow, they’re not gonna say ‘that’s Gordon Tracy, the Olympic Champion!’  Tomorrow, they’re gonna say ‘that’s Scott Tracy’s little brother!’, and I’m gonna say ‘damn straight I am.’”

The lights were off in his brother’s room, but that meant nothing.  Scott had been sent to bed by the combined parental force of Grandma and Dad, and Gordon knew for a fact that John had been recruited to freeze all his electronics to make sure he didn’t sit up doing something all night instead of sleeping.  So, if Gordon didn’t miss his guess, Scott was going to be staying up all night doing nothing, just staring blankly at the ceiling, the wall, the view out the window, and working himself up about tomorrow.

There had been straws pulled between them to decide behind Dad’s back who went in and knocked some sense into him.  Gordon won. Gordon may have rigged the whole thing, but Virgil’s suspicious brown eyes could prove nothing.  This was something he needed to do.

Sure enough, as he slunk into the room, door shutting silently behind him (he’d had years of practice on that one), the body on the bed first rolled over, then sat up as Scott identified him in the dark (Scott had had years of practice at that).

“Gordon?  Is something wrong?”

And still he worried before being suspicious.  Any of his other brothers would be looking for the prank right about now, but Scott’s default would always be concern for him before concern to himself.  Gordon rolled his eyes and padded silently over to the bed, poking Scott until he moved over.  He did, arm shooting out to wrap around his shoulders the way he always did when Gordon had a nightmare.

Gordon was man enough to admit that the last time wasn’t as long ago as maybe people thought, but that wasn’t the reason tonight and he dodged the arm, catching it and using the opportunity of catching Scott off guard to roll his brother over onto his side.

“Gordon?”

Before he could roll back, Gordon dove onto the bed, wedging himself behind him and wrapping his arms around his biggest brother tightly, burying his face in the back of Scott’s neck and feeling his brother tense up.

“Gordon, what’s wrong?”

“Hey, Scott,” he started, voice still low so no Dad or Grandma caught him – there may have been some implications that all of them were to leave Scott alone tonight – even though John was supposedly running interference to make sure they didn’t. “When did you last celebrate your own achievements?”

The concerned set of his brother’s shoulders gave way to a confused one instead.  “What do you mean?”

“Well, I don’t remember so much as a graduation party when you finished college,” Gordon pointed out. He didn’t mention the medals, locked away in storage where Scott refused to look at them.  Those didn’t count.

Scott didn’t answer, and Gordon decided against voicing the observation that Scott hadn’t celebrated any of his own achievements since the Zero-X.  This would be the first one, and he was all too aware that the only reason Scott wasn’t ducking out of it was because Dad wouldn’t let him.

“John had one,” he said instead.  “You didn’t let him escape it.”

“John graduated early with the highest grades in the university’s history,” Scott pointed out, and Gordon huffed.

“And you were top of your class.”  He’d checked the records before coming in.  “How did you even talk Grandma out of it?”

“What are you trying to say, Gordon?”  That was a non-answer if ever he heard one.  Gordon squinted at the back of his brother’s neck but let it slide.  For now.

“John’s graduations,” he started.  “John’s books.  Virgil’s graduation.  Virgil’s art shows and piano recitals.  My acceptance into WASP.  My medals. Alan’s everything.”  There had been a lot of parties for the youngest – getting his pilot’s license, youngest astronaut in history, anything Scott could remotely justify.  “You haven’t let any of us miss a single achievement.  But yours…” he trailed off meaningfully, but Scott was still tense in his hold and didn’t say a word.

Gordon sighed.

“Your achievements matter too, bro,” he said.  “Stop skulking in the shadows and directing the limelight onto us all the time.”

Scott made a sound somewhere between a sigh and a scoff.  It sounded sad and a little pathetic.

“You guys do so much,” he said.  “I’m proud of you.  All four of you.”

Aha.

“And we’re proud of you,” Gordon retorted.  “That’s why you’re not getting out of tomorrow.”

“I didn’t even do anything,” Scott protested.  “I-” Gordon cut him off with a scoff.

“You piloted that jet.  You broke the airspeed record.  Professor Kwark is getting her dues for designing it – you know you’re not taking anything away from her achievements so stop pretending you think you are – but you piloted it.”

“Because she asked me to,” Scott pointed out, and Gordon rolled his eyes.  “She could have chosen anyone.”

“And she chose the best damn pilot in the world like a sensible woman, and don’t even try and tell me anyone else would have even been a consideration.”  Gordon jabbed him in the chest with a finger.  “Her own attempt last year ended in disaster, so she picked the most experienced high-speed pilot in the world for the next one. Sounds like a smart decision to me.” Scott was gearing up for another counter-argument; he could feel it in the way his chest tensed.  “They didn’t have to pick me for the Olympics,” he continued, switching to the reason he had absolutely rigged the straws to be the one in the room.

When it came to wrangling Scott, Virgil was definitely the most experienced, with John hot on his heels. But Virgil and John weren’t world record holders.  Gordon was.

“You were the best in the team,” Scott immediately shot back.  “They’d have been daft not to pick you.”

Exactly, but Gordon didn’t say that, just waited for Scott to realise he’d cornered himself.  It didn’t take long, shoulders slumping with a fondly exasperated sigh.

“That’s different,” Scott tried to argue.  “You still had to beat the other seven swimmers.”

“And you still had to beat the record.”  Gordon shot that argument back down.

“The jet-”

“Would not have beat the record if I was piloting it.  Hell, if Virgil was piloting it.  Even Alan’s not that good, Scott.”  He squeezed his ridiculously stubborn brother tighter, a grin slipping onto his face as Scott let out a quiet oof.  “That was all you, Scott, and I know you know it, despite what you’re trying to tell me.”

Scott didn’t say anything for several moments, and Gordon didn’t break the silence even if he pressed closer to his brother’s back.  He knew what it was like, those few hours – days, weeks, even – after breaking a world record.  The state of disbelief that he’d actually done it.  Scott had stepped out of what they had nicknamed Icarus II (not actually called that, after the original Icarus had proven too close to its namesake, but Gordon didn’t really care for the jet’s actual name) less than twenty-four hours earlier, breathing hard from the adrenaline and excitement of Mach 23.8 to congratulations and jubilation from Professor Kwark’s team and his family.  What he’d actually managed hadn’t properly sunk in yet, but the official celebrations were tomorrow, complete with paparazzi from all over the world, and Scott was doing his best to escape it.

“…Why are you here, Gordon?”

Gordon was there to tell his brother he was being an idiot, and hammer it home that they were all ridiculously proud of their big brother for doing the thing they’d always known he would one day, and convince him it was okay to be proud of himself. He didn’t say that.

Each of his brothers always required a slightly different touch, and Scott needed to be caught off-guard. The head-on approach never worked; he just headbutted it back with twice the force because he was stubborn like that. Unless you were Virgil but Virgil could just keep throwing it back again with interest until he wore him down.

So instead, Gordon plucked at a different string – one of those little things Scott thought they didn’t know about but really didn’t hide that well once you knew how to look for it. They all knew.

“You know how many people I’ve heard complain about some ‘shadow’ their older siblings cast?” he asked, rhetorically.  Scott froze so suddenly he could have sworn the temperature dropped a few degrees.  “Whining on and on about how no matter what they do, their sibling’s always there, always the one everyone sees?”

Scott seemed to be holding his breath; even pressed up against him with his arms wrapped around his chest, Gordon couldn’t feel any rise and fall.

“Well, I don’t agree with that,” he said firmly.

“What?”  He felt Scott startle, clearly not meaning to say anything but caught off-guard.

“I don’t agree,” he repeated.  “You’ve never overshadowed us.  Any of us.  John’s got the books to prove it, Virgil’s got the paintings and recitals, I’ve got a gold freaking medal.  Even Alan’s making his own name for himself in the gaming community and he’s a home-schooled kid most of the world has never seen out of uniform.”

“I-”

“How long have you been worrying about that?” Gordon asked, overriding whatever feeble attempt at disagreement Scott was about to make.  “At least since the Zero-X.  I know that for certain, but I bet it’s been longer.”

Scott didn’t answer, but he didn’t expect him to.  Scott was annoying like that – he’d say everything you didn’t want him to, and nothing that you did.  The answer was probably the first time he’d ever heard anyone mention something about an older sibling’s so-called ‘shadow’, anyway, knowing Scott.

“You know,” he said, fully aware that Scott didn’t know, because he was an idiot of a big brother who cared too much about them and not enough about himself, “sometimes I like sitting in your shadow.”  Or John’s, or Virgil’s, but this conversation wasn’t about them.

Scott’s second startle was a full-body thing, a twitch topped off with a jerk of the head, but he still didn’t say anything.

“I doubt you get it, because you don’t have a big brother, but sometimes it’s nice lurking there,” he continued.  “Here.”  He pressed up against Scott’s back again, making sure Scott couldn’t possibly miss that he was plastered against him.  “Maybe it’s because I know you’ll never try and keep me here and I can go wander into the spotlight whenever I like,” he admitted, “but I like it.  The others do, too.”  John and Virgil never left Scott’s so-called ‘shadow’ unless they had to, both content to do their own thing and let Scott handle the world while they handled Scott, and Gordon knew all four of them still found safety in their biggest brother even if they never said it in so many words.

“Gordon, what are you trying to say?” Scott asked.  He sounded genuinely confused, and Gordon swallowed another sigh, because trust Scott to be a brilliant leader and fantastic big brother but not understand just how much they appreciated him.

“I’m saying that tomorrow, they’re not gonna look at me and say ‘that’s Gordon Tracy, the Olympic Champion!’” he said bluntly.  “Tomorrow, they’re gonna look at me and say ‘that’s Scott Tracy’s little brother!’, and I’m gonna say ‘damn straight I am.’”  He grabbed a handful of Scott’s pyjamas and made a fist, right over his brother’s chest. “Because tomorrow is your day and I – we – are damn proud of you, Scott.  So don’t you dare run away from this and try and put us in the limelight instead.  Not this time.”  Not any time it was Scott’s achievement, but Gordon was well aware that was too much of a push right now.

He’d just bring out the pep talks again, and again, and again, until Scott got the message.

Scott was silent, but his breathing was steady, Gordon’s fistful of fabric rising and falling with his chest, so he waited while his brother thought it through, looking for loopholes and – hopefully – finding none.  Gordon didn’t think he’d left anything, but Scott could be slippery when he wanted to.

It was several minutes before he got a reaction, Scott making a decision like the commander he was. An arm moved, brushing against Gordon’s as it did, before a hand wrapped around his fist.  The touch was firm and warm, but not restraining or trying to pry him off.  Instead, it just stayed there, squeezing lightly before falling still.

“Thanks, Gordon.”

Victory.

“Any time, bro,” he grinned, wriggling around to get comfortable and throwing a leg over Scott’s, just because he could.  “Now get some sleep.  Big day tomorrow.”

“Voice of experience?”

“Yup.”  He popped the ‘p’ just because he could, and because it always made Scott roll his eyes.  “You’ll need all the sleep you can get.”  He kicked the covers until he could reach them with the hand not grasping his brother’s top and pulled them up.

“Aren’t you going to go back to your room?”  Scott sounded amused, with some put-on disgruntlement that Gordon ignored.

“Nah,” he dismissed, settling back down and wrapping his arm back around his brother again.  “I’m comfy now.”

Scott laughed a little. They both knew Grandma and Dad had placed a ‘do not disturb’ order on Scott and that he was at least somewhat avoiding being caught sneaking back out.  There wouldn’t be time to tell him off in the morning while they were rushing around ready for the party.

“Night, Gordon.”

“Night, big bro.”  He burrowed down against his big brother’s back and closed his eyes, content that he’d got at least somewhere in pounding some truths into Scott’s stubborn head and genuinely comfortable where he was.

Sometimes, his big brother’s shadow was his favourite place to be.

[goldenncherrybombb]

Back rubs and late night confessions

Hello everyone! So this is my first official blurb so I hope you all enjoy it!! 

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I made a prompt list so I chose two of those. Once i finish the prompt list feel free to request a number(s).

“What? Does that feel good?” “I’ve had a rough day, and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with”

Summary: Y/n’s had a long day and just needs some cuddles and a back rub from her bestfriend.

Warning: Bestfriend!Harry, smut, explicit language, alcohol 

Word count: 2.8K

Y/n’s had a long day. After having to deal with many bitchy coworkers, tripping over a cord, and many more small things that added on to her already shitty day,all she needed was some wine, and some cuddles from her best friend. 

After turning on her car, and screaming into her steering wheel out of frustration, she pulls her phone out, unlocking it and calling the person she needed to see the most.

“‘Lo, love.” She visibly feels the stress of the day start to melt away at the sound of his voice. Harry is the only person that could turn the worst day around and make you forget all about it as he tells you a lame joke with his dimples appearing when he laughs at his own joke.

“Hi H, I’ve had a rough day, and honestly all I want right now is a drink and someone to cuddle with ” 

Her voice is light, sounding defeated.He has been gone for too long and recently got back, and since then they have only been able to hangout twice due to their hectic schedules. So she misses him more than usual and really needs some Harry time.

She hears him chuckle lightly and some rustling before he speaks up again.

“I’ll have the drinks and snacks waiting for you.” She smiles widely, already feeling a million times better and excited for her night with Harry.

“I’ll be there soon! Love you, bubs.” Harry smiles on the other end of the line. His eyes light up when she tells him she loves him. His imagination wandered to different scenarios of her saying those three words.

“Love you too. Drive safe, darling.” She hangs up, smiling from ear to ear, those three words having the same affect on her. She knows it’s wrong. Harry’s her best friend. But she knows first hand how hard it is to not love the tall and talented green eyed man. 

She quickly leaves the parking lot, driving to Harry’s house as quickly, and safely, as she can. She already knows he has her favorite sweatshirt of his in the dryer, along with some clothes for her, so that way they would be warm when she arrives. It’s one of her favorite things that he does because he knows she hates being cold. 

She hops out of her car after shutting it off and parking it, quickly making her way into Harry’s home. She takes a deep breath when she enters, Harry’s house smelling like home. Once her shoes were off,and her keys were in his key bowl next to his, she made her way up into Harry’s room, not seeing him downstairs. 

She walks into his room and sees him pulling her favorite hoodie, a pair of her favorite fuzzy socks he bought just for her, one of his shirts, and a pair of boxers, from the laundry basket, neatly placing them on the bed for her. Once it was all set on the bed and she stopped staring at him with love in her eyes she ran over to his bed, jumping on it and sighing.  

“Fucking Christ Y/N! Nearly gave me a damn heart attack.” His hand clutches his heart as he speaks, laughing lightly and smiling at her as she giggles at him. “Yeh think that’s funny? Nearly killin’ me?” She shakes her head, laughing harder at his dramatics. He smirks when an idea pops in his head, her laughs coming to a stop when she sees the look on his face. Then suddenly he lands on top of her. She lets out a loud “oof” when he lands on her.

“You’re crushing me, yeh knobhead!” She giggles as he begins to tickle her sides. He chuckles into her neck, his curls tickling her skin. “Harry! ‘M gonna pee! Stop it!” 

“Always knew you were a bedwetter.”She scoffs and goes to retaliate but he moves to hover over her, speaking before she can get the chance to quip back with a smart remark. “I ordered pizza, have a load of snacks we can binge on all night, your favorite wine, and our movie is waiting for you downstairs once you shower and change.” She swears her heart bursts. He does this often. Always knowing exactly what she needs, sometimes before she even knows herself. He’s so unbelievably kind and so caring she often wonders how she got so lucky with a best friend like him. He always makes sure she is taking care of herself and is taken care of. She feels like a princess around him. 

“You got me pizza!” Her face lights up and it makes Harry smile even harder. 

“Yep, from our favorite place too.” She loops her arms around his neck and hugs him tightly. 

“Thank you so much, H. You don’t know how much I love and appreciate you.” She could almost cry she’s so happy. Harry coos at her when he hears her sniffle.

“Don’t cry, pet. Yeh know how much I love yeh. I’d do anything fo’yeh. No go shower, yer  stinkin’ up the house.” Her mouth falls open as she playfully gets offended. He gets off of her to let her get up and she swat his bum as she scurries past him making him gasp and watch as she giggles and hurries to the bathroom so he can’t get her. 

***

“So you’re telling me that some dickhead ate your lunch, and it even had your name on it and they didn’t even say sorry?” Harry questions with raised eyebrows. Y/n moves her wine glass to his coffee table after finishing it before looking back up at Harry.

“Yes! Isn’t that ridiculous! This is the third bloody time this month and we aren’t even halfway through this month! I have no clue who it is. I bet it’s Sarah. Bloody cunt can’t keep her hands off of what isn’t hers!” She exclaims, remembering her delicious lasagna that got eaten by some asshole at work. 

“Sarah’s the one that got caught cheating on Michael with Jacbson right?” He questions, interested in her work drama, but more interested in how fired up she gets. 

“Yes! And rumor has it she is now cheating on Jacbson! Isn’t that ridiculous!?” Harry chuckles and shakes his head, drinking his wine. 

After her shower she went downstairs and found Harry walking in with the pizza in his hands. Their favorite movies title screen on the telly, snacks on the coffee table for later, and two wine glasses along with her favorite wine waiting for her and Harry next to the snacks.

The movie was long forgotten as conversation quickly picked up between the two as they ate. Harry telling her stories from when he was gone, and her doing the same. When the movie ended Y/n got up and put on one of her favorite records of Harry’s , Etta James ‘ A Sunday Kind of Love’ filling the room as they go back to conversing.

“H, can you give me a back rub, pleassseeeee.” She smiles up at him and gives him her best puppy dog eyes while batting her lashes. She knows he can’t so no to her, especially when she pulls ‘the face’, as he calls it. He dramatically huffs and rolls his eyes.

“I guess, princess.” She cheers before moving to lay down on the large couch, Harry watching as she takes off her shirt before laying down, waiting for him. He lets his eyes trail her figure, mesmerized by every dip, curve, and mark on her beautiful body. He quickly snaps himself out of it, scolding himself and blaming it on the wine before moving to start rubbing her back. She groans when he rubs her shoulder, feeling a large knot there. 

“What? Does that feel good? ” He questions through a chuckle as his hands work wanders on her back. Her eyes flutter before she hums in reply.

“I haven’t had a back rub in so long. I think I should hire a masseuse.” She chuckles before moaning when he rubs out another knot. Harry glances down at his pants, shaking his head at his friend that wants to make an appearance. “Maybe I should hire you.” He chuckles and continues rubbing her back. Once he is done getting the knots out he moves to peek at her face, noticing how her breathing evened out and her eyes are shut. So he begins to draw random things on her back. First it was a few random shapes, then some of his favorite lyrics. Once he was positive she was asleep he began to trace three words on her back. 

But she isn’t asleep. She has been silently trying to figure out what he has been writing on her back, figuring out most of the lyrics he traced on her back. When she feels him writing something new it takes her a minute to figure out what he is writing, but she quickly figures out. She almost chokes on her breath, trying her hardest not to tense up or move. Sure, they say they love each other, but they both know he isn’t writing those words on her back in a friendly way. She could almost cry, now knowing he feels the same way about her as she does him. 

“Hey H,” He jumps lightly at the sound of her tired voice. He thought she had been asleep for a good twenty minutes, but she wasn’t. “I love you, too.” His breath gets caught in his throat. He hid his feelings for so long, thinking there was no way she liked him the way he liked her. He was only her best friend to her, there is no way she could feel the same as him. But he was mistaken.

She rolls over to her back, looking up at him with a small smile on her lips and glossy eyes. He moves to hover over her slowly, his eyes still wide, looking awestruck with his mouth open slightly. His cross necklace dangles over her. She grabs it and messes with it nervously, tracing the outside with the pad of her thumb. 

“I-You love me? Like not in a friendly way? You actually-” She cuts him off by pulling on his necklace so he comes close to her and she presses a kiss on his lips. They both inhale through their noses sharply when their lips meet, their eyes fluttering closed as they have their first kiss. Their lips mold together perfectly as they melt into the kiss. Her lips taste like red wine and Harry swears he could kiss them for hours.

Harry pulls back, both of them looking into each other's eyes as they catch their breath. Both of their lips are slightly swollen and redder from the long kiss. Her cheeks go red and she gives him a dreary smile. 

“I love you, so damn much.” Both of them smile widely, his head dipping down to pepper kisses all over her neck as she giggles. He trails kisses from her neck, to under her jaw, to her cheek, then finally her lips, but this time, more harshly and needy. Her hands get tangled in his hair and he moves his hips down further by hers, she gasps when she feels him brush over her. He pulls back and shakes his head, looking down at her. “Why did it take us so long to do this?” She giggles and shrugs her shoulders.

“I don’t know, but let’s not waste anymore time.” He chuckles as she pulls him back down for another kiss. His hand moves to trace up her body. She shivers when his finger comes in contact with her bare skin. “H?” She questions breathlessly as Harry makes a deep purple mark on her neck. He hum in response before pulling away from her neck and moving to look into her eyes. 

“‘S everythin’ ok, darling?” She moves her hands to rest on the sides of his face, laughing breathlessly. 

“Yes, it’s more than ok.” His worry visibly fades, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion. “I just think, we should,” she toys with the collar of his shirt in nervousness. But Harry catches on, smirking at her. 

“Words, Princess.” Her cheeks fade to a deeper red, her actions stopping and her gaze moving to his eyes. 

“I want you to fuck me Harry.” His eyes grow impossibly darker at her words and he quickly moves, picking her up off the couch and moving quickly to his bedroom. She giggles as he holds her up by the back of her thigh and her arms are pooped around her neck. She laughs even harder when Harry stubs his town on the side of his bed and almost falls, but luckily, they somehow land on the bed  

“Stop laughing at me! This is supposed to be romantic.” He tries to sound upset, but fails when his dimples finally show and his laugh rings through the air with hers. But her laugh stops when Harry quickly pulls her shorts down and kisses her clothed center. She gasps and arches her back a little, eager for more. 

Harry pulls her underwear down slowly, trailing kisses up her thigh as he discards her underwear behind him. She gasps again when he finally kisses where she needs him. Her hand flies to his hair and she pulls harshly with every movement of his tongue, making him groan against. When he slips his middle finger in her she pulls him up, reconnecting their lips as she tugs at his pants. He starts to nip at her neck before leaving purple marks all over her smooth skin. He moans into her neck when she wraps her hand around him, his fingers curling in her at the same time and repeatedly hitting the spot inside her that has her a mess under him

“N-fuck-Need you. Fuck you feel so good.” He grunts out, his thumb rubbing her clit and making her legs shake. 

“Take me, please, H.” In response he connects their lips, getting rid of his shirt and kicking of his pants the rest of the way. He slides his hands under her thighs and picks her up, surprising y/n as she gasps slightly at the unexpected change. He carries her up to his room, laying her on the bed gently. She arches her back when his hands move to unclasp her bra, the final piece of clothing that stands between them.

The moon shines through the large window in his room, lighting up the room just enough for them to see each other. Harry lifts his head up, both of them catching their breaths for a minute.

“Are yeh sure, love?” He checks, not wanting her to regret this and hoping that her feelings hadn’t changed.

“‘M sure, hundred percent.” Harry smiles at her briefly before reattaching their lips as he sinks into her slowly. She hisses when he is in fully, a burning and stretching feeling coursing through her lower region. “Please move, ‘m ok.” He nods and starts to move his hips slowly, checking up on her as she feels the pain turn into pleasure. Moans slip through their mouths as his pace picks up, her nails scratching down his back and her legs wrapping around his waist as he easily finds the spongy spot in her.

“Fuck, so tight around me.” He hisses and her moans get louder as he encourages her to release. Once she hits her climax he follows. His thrusts slow and when she flutters around him once more he comes undone. 

He collapses on her chest, leaving one more kiss on her breasts before pulling out and crashing beside her. Their chests heave up and down as they catch their breaths.

“Oh fuck, we really just did that.” She whispers, giggling slightly when he chuckles quietly next to her. He pulls her into his chest with his arm, nibbling on her earlobe before replying.

“And I quite enjoyed it.” She smiles lazily as he massages the top of her thigh, feeling only pure bliss. And she is confident that if she had to relive a moment, it would be this one. Both of them spent, their bodies covered in a thin layer of sweat, and the smell of sex in the air. “I love you.” He mumbles against her neck.

“And I love you.” She feels him smile against her as they both drift off to sleep. Both of them so sure their heart has never felt so full of love.

[toujoursmiraculous]

Thoughts and Reactions to Truth!

Just going to go straight into it because this episode is huge! I really like how at the end of a season and the beginning of another, we see the same scene that leads us out of one and into another. Gabriel fixes the Miraculous and ohhh poor Dusuu thought it was all a dream, being in evil hands. So in a way, the Miraculous being damaged may have been a blessing for her. Dx Too bad it couldn't have been fixed after Marinette got it back :/ But at least Nooroo isn't alone right? Legit only positive I can get from this. ;-; Tikki and her little hats omg it's so cuuuute! I wonder if she makes her little clothes, too awww But the other Kwami's are almost like siblings to Tikki if you think about it. Now Tikki has to share things with them all as they cause chaos all around when she's so used to her quiet life alone with Marinette. Even for a Kwami, that must be hard to adjust to.

Okay so it's almost Prince Ali's birthday that Paris is going to celebrate. Interesting! I'd really like to see him back and a storyline with that. :O Marinette holding something, clearly, that the girls can't see over video chat. Talking to what appears to be herself, reacting to what someone's saying from different sides of her room. Camera flashes going off. And then her phone getting yeeted at her all on a video call with her friends when she's supposed to be alone...considering they're all going to have Kwami's and learn some things later as they become heroes, I wouldn't be surprised in the slightest if they think back to this scene someday! OH WAIT spoiler for the upcoming episode Gang of Secrets!!! Fair warning. What if this episode with the plushies she said she's going to make, is one of if not the reason they go over and are looking around her room? Because she's been acting sus and they want to know what's going on. Especially after what happens later in the episode with Luka. Okay, back to the episode itself. Her friends observation: You're acting way weirder than normal.... IS ADRIEN AT YOUR PLACE?! I mean, fair point. xD But the thing is, whenever Marinette tends to act weirder or say/do things that Alya and the girls don't understand, it's almost always connected to her being Ladybug/Guardian. Even Lila. If she wasn't Ladybug and dealt with her so much as her, she wouldn't know a lot of things that made her not trust Lila to begin with. So Marinette has to overcompensate to try to hide everything or can't explain her thoughts or feelings about certain situations, so Alya always just assumes her behavior has something to do with Adrien. It really sucks but at the same time, what else is she going to think?

These Kwami are a lot of trouble. xD Now she's even more frazzled, so she calls Luka Adrien. More than once. I've done this where I call my siblings the wrong name more of than I'd like so I can't fault her for it. Her mind's probably a mess, poor girl. Dx "I'm sorry it's just that I cheated on you!" BIG OOF. But this gives me Kim Possible vibes when Ron assumed Kim didn't want him anymore and told her he was cheating on her when he meant to say he was cheating to be on the football team so he could be more worthy of her when he thought she wanted to "trade up" her boyfriend. Our poor Marinette! So frazzled she can't remember when her dates are, when they've been rescheduled. She can't remember her patrols with Chat Noir which are really important. She's getting to the point where it's going to be a wonder she can even function. Dx "But Marinette and I are such a big fan of his" wow this sure hits different. The way they kept quizzing each other to finish the sentence with Jagged Stone trivia was pretty cute. Luka having her finish the line with "Kiss me" that she screamed to the entire theater made me choke on my cake. "Well, if that's what you want." Smooth. "I think, yes. I want to." But you know, it gets interrupted by an akuma attack of course because that's just the way things work! :D And wouldn't you know it, it's Mr. Pigeon. AGAIN. Totally worth interrupting the moment lol Ladybug can't pick and choose, however, so here comes the sequence where she's constantly running off and he starts doubting her. Notice the parallel when Marinette started to like Luka after Adrien could never show up to things? Now Marinette's having trouble showing up and Luka's having issues with it. The second Chat Noir started to sneak up on Ladybug, we all knew he was going to get flipped. But it's so adorable and funny at the same time I love it x333 And that whole scene there of Ladynoir. Obviously it's a Lukanette-centered episode but the Ladynoir in this episode! So good! And you know, it's interesting. First time we see Adrien this episode is for FIVE whole seconds! And the way it abruptly cut off as he opened the car door... yeah you know what, Lies is going to be Adrien's POV or something of this same day. It has to be. He has 2 total scenes one of them is 5 seconds and the other one is 2 seconds. Crazy. We got about 7 seconds of Adrien's face today woo! But ugh here's where we get hurt Luka ;-; "A girl, who as always, isn't here." Ouch. The fact that if Marinette said she loved Adrien still, he'd understand and he'd get it is so sweet, and so sad that it's not even because of that, it's because she's Ladybug and the Guardian and she can't say a thing about it to him at all, that he can't accept. It's the one thing he couldn't deal with that's the issue and that really sucks. AND THIS MOMENT RIGHT HERE HAD ME GASPING AND HURTING FOR LUKA. IT'S THE MOMENT HIS HEART BROKE

But also really guys, did you notice his eyes are different now? Almost like a blue diamond look or something.

Luka trying to fight it, trying to tell Hawk Moth that the truth needs to be willingly told, not forced. But stupid Hawk Moth's able to get him to hold on anyway and gets akumatized. But not before he told Marinette to run. Which was such an awwww moment. x33 I mean, this is definitely getting a bit close to Chat Blanc territory if you ask me. New transformation music is pretty good! I like it. Also can we just appreciate that instead of trying to track down Marinette to get the truth from her, he's instead asking all her friends and family, pretty much any source besides her? AND ROSE'S RESPONSE "Marinette has no secrets because she's the most honest girl in the world!" She thinks so highly of her and it's just so beautiful. Nobody would blame her for these secrets if they only knew either. But awwwwww I love this scene!! And here's the big reveal! (no not that one) Jagged Stone is Luka and Juleka's father. 😮

Thomas today tweeted that Luka and Juleka are twins. Which would have to be fairly obvious after this reveal. There's no way that Jagged, who says he'd be a lame dad and left because he wasn't cut out for it, would have Luka with Anarka, then stay long enough to also have Juleka. I also totally forgot that in the French version, Jagged has an American accent when he speaks. XDD Just the fact that even WITH his truth powers, he asked his mother TWICE who his father was. Both times she said Jagged Stone. He still didn't believe it until he went to Jagged himself omg. This poor poor boy. Luka: 😱*gasp* Marinette: 😲 *gasp* Adrien: 😮 WHY IS THIS SO FUNNY OMG. LIKE I'M WATCHING A TELENOVELA OR SOMETHING. THEY EVEN ZOOMED IN ON THEIR REACTIONS I CAN'T And then Luka just yeets his dad because he wasn't ever there for him. I honestly did not expect Luka having dad issues to ever be a thing in this show, even though I knew he wasn't around. So like... when everything's worked out with Marinette and Adrien in the end, will Luka and Adrien end up becoming friends and bonding over things, like the whole daddy issues thing...? Are we really supposed to believe she has no feelings for Chat Noir? I mean really, look at this.

"I can't imagine what your daily life must look like" ... is she really actually being the one to bring up something about his secret identity? With that face? 😲

Their flirty banter that at this point I don't even think they realize it is, and those soft looks I just... My top ship is Ladynoir and I was not expecting any significant moments of theirs but I got it anyway. Just watching their scenes, I kept going "See, this is why they're meant for each other." My heart is happy despite all the Luka pain! It's helping me cope with it, okay? "When you're ready, I'll be here for you, Marinette." Awww so they're telling us Lukanette is on hold here. Not a guarantee, but at least on hold. He's an option for her later. So now the Adrienette vs. Lukanette for S4 we heard about awhile back makes sense now. Later on this season, probably when things calm down and she gets the hang of things, she'll be in a better position to be with someone. And by then, Adrien will probably realize and understand his feelings for Marinette. So then she'll be in a position to choose between them. Now we know where Luka gets his ability to turn emotions into great songs. That's adorable! Father-son bonding! Gabriel needs to take notes when a man who was never in his son's life as more than his idol has the ability to try to be there, but Gabriel can't. Ugh our poor Marinette, probably thinking she's going to be alone for a very long time just because of a supervillain. That's so wrong she has to feel like this. If you notice, Hawk Moth's akumatizations help people patch up relationships so much of the time as a weird unexpected result of an akuma attack. And yet, he does nothing but hurt Marinette and at times Adrien, the most when he akumatizes people. He makes me so angry! But I'm too tired for a rant about that. At least the Kwami hugs at the end helped a teeny bit anyway! c: