#phew time to tag this mess

[ubtendo]

I know I said I wouldn't draw much currently but I couldn't resist to doodle a bit, so here are some of my faves of the week so far

LOA:

Dragon ball:

Sonic:

Ahd:

[crescenthistory]

It's Nice To Have A Friend

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Reader

Synopsis: Remus' childhood best friend is the only person he is comfortable showing unrestrained affection towards – until he one day gets in his own head about it.

Words: 14.4k

Warnings/tags: there are some suggestive remarks, brief references to "shagging" and implied underage drinking, but i would classify it as safe for minors! fem!reader, use of y/n, childhood best friends to lovers (thus you grew up in wales and use welsh terms, but you aren't said to be welsh), you are in ravenclaw (only for one plot point, not personality), platonic physical affection, romantic physical affection, kissing, "it was revealed to me in a dream" trope, some miscommunication trope, deep yearning, remus' pov (meaning loads of self-loathing and overthinking), panic attack-ish, remus cursing like a sailor and joking about jumping, kind of shy/reserved!remus, some angst, happy ending ofc, background jilypad

Note: phew this was intense but sosososo much fun to write. it is very much a fluffy fic tho, don't be worried<3 i fucking love this story/dynamic so much

a blurb about their happily ever after

It is an ill-kept secret that Remus John Lupin struggles with romantic public displays of affection.

It was something his best friends had teased him relentlessly for since the first time he was given a Valentine Day’s card in year two by a boy that he didn’t even have a crush on mind you, and became a stuttering, spluttering mess. He could still hear James and Sirius’ barks of laughter the second that Hufflepuff was out of view and could still feel the bench shake from when Peter fell off it, clutching his stomach. Remus had been sure his cheeks would be permanently dyed red from the shame.

His one friend who did not betray him in such a manner was his oldest, namely you. Remus’ sweetheart, as Sirius called you, his childhood best friend from back home who he broke the statute of secrecy for when he was too young to realise what that meant, but who thankfully turned out to be a witch too. Something you both wept tears of joy for, as you did not have to be separated when he went off to Hogwarts.

On that horrid day, you only pinched his darkening cheeks and laughed quietly – still teasing, but in a way that felt more like admiring and less like humiliating. He faintly remembers scrunching his nose at you in response, a look you immediately mirrored before you went to hide him in the crook of your neck and gave the others a faux scolding for “embarrassing poor Rem when he is wholly capable of doing so himself”. 

His makeshift pack of friends kept that routine up for the rest of his school years, consisting of James and Sirius poking constant fun, Peter enjoying it all a tad bit too much, and you “protecting” him while laughing all the same. His affliction only worsened throughout his time at Hogwarts, but if one of his afflictions were to be the butt of a joke, he supposed he was grateful it was this one.

In moments like these, it was a tad bit difficult to keep that sentiment up, though.

“You should have seen the look on his face, doll!” Sirius made out through a laugh as the group made their way back from Hogsmeade. 

He was recounting Remus’ dance on the Three Broomsticks dancefloor with one slightly-more-rowdy-than-normal Emmeline Vance who all but dragged him out there despite his quiet sputters. You had been off on some endless errands that Remus had passionately attempted to join you for before Sirius all but bolted him to the bench because “you owe me a round, you mangy wolf”.

“I believe I have seen it many a time, Siri,” you laughed out, yelping slightly when Remus pinched your side from where he had his arm around you. “Hey!” you scolded him half-heartedly, point diminished by your grin.

“Cheeky minx, don’t side with the devil!” Remus conspired with you through a stage-whisper while glaring at Sirius, whose laughter only doubled in intensity.

“You can’t ask me to lie for you, del,” you replied in the same tone of voice, leaning up to kiss his cheek as if to apologise for your treachery. An apology that was wholly accepted as Remus tugged you closer into his side and allowed for the laughter around him to continue with a sigh.

Because therein lies the one exception – Remus Lupin was pathetically incapable of public displays of affection, unless they were with you.

His problem with these displayals was the insinuation behind them and the attention that was brought to him because of it. If Emmeline dances with him, leaving a scandalously little amount of room between them, he knows what she wants from him and everyone else does, too. If his current romantic partner kisses him in the hallway, it is a glimpse into something that otherwise occurs behind closed doors, a reveal of his private life that he does not enjoy. He wants that part hidden, and embarrassment flares through him like a rocket at the thought that others bear witness to it – and then the flames are stoked when they notice that he knows and has enough dignity to be embarrassed, which just fuels an eternal evil cycle.

You, however – your wonderful self he has known all his life, you who refused to ever leave his side despite his lycanthropy and subsequent grumpy, isolationist persona, you who are his absolute better half and light of his life – there was no reason that affection should be hidden. There was nothing secretive nor fragile in your relationship, it was the purest thing he had ever had the pleasure of having.

There was nothing insinuative or blasphemous about it, there was nothing to be held against him. He would hold you, hug you, even kiss your shoulder, cheek and forehead, because he and all else around knew that it meant nothing more. It was nothing out of the norm, nothing for others to point out and bring attention to. There was no glance into something hidden away, there was no line being overstepped. It was just two best friends, aware and proud of how much they meant to one another.

So Remus never had any hesitations about leaning into your touch, about seeking yours out, about lips identifying exposed skin and staying there for a moment or two. It was something he began doing before he truly knew what embarrassment entailed, it was muscle memory as much as instinct these days.

And if others did not understand it fully, that was an issue Remus for once felt no confinement to public opinion on. If people made assumptions or threw glances, it held no importance to him. Even his Marauders, Sirius especially, raised their eyebrows at your proximity when you all first met, but they understood the routine of it all quickly. That these two first years before them were a package deal in every form of the word. It was quickly accepted within your little pack, albeit fondly commented on every now and again. James had Sirius in that same unrestrained way, bodies strewn across each other at any given opportunity, so why couldn’t Remus have you? Why wouldn’t he?

Never mind that Sirius was officially brought into James and Lily's relationship at the end of last term.

“Well, James would hug anything that moved and seemed like it might need it.” Sirius had argued one night many years ago, not needing to add the and I need it.

“And isn’t that lovely for Prongs,” Remus had drawled in return. “But I need a few years to get there, and Y/N happened to be more strategic than you lot.”

“By knowing you first?”

“Precisely. Also, she’s lovelier than you.” 

It had earned him a snort and a pillow to the face, but it was accepted without further questioning. With the exceptions only occurring in a drunken babble here and there from Sirius, alone in their dorm after a party. Remus is quite certain he couldn’t string together a coherent sentence if his life depended on it in those states, and so he never took it to heart.

Remus revelled in having something of his own, someone only he understood on that level, and his heart always warmed when he thought about how lucky he was that that someone was you.

He subconsciously pulled you even closer at that thought, content and comfortable to do so whether that be around his marauders or in front of the whole Great Hall; there was nothing more to it to be embarrassed of. It was just you; just Y/N and Remus. Like always.

“You occluding yourself away from your menace of a dorm mate?” you whispered to him then, and he angled his chin down slightly with a smile to find you looking at him curiously.

“Oh, yeah,” Remus agreed with a solemn nod. “Must prepare for being locked up in a room with him all night. It’s tedious work, you know?”

“Most certainly.” You attempted to match his faux severity, but a giggle escaped you nonetheless – a beautiful one that Remus decided to mentally save for the night, should Sirius become unbearable.

Speaking of; “I take great offence to that,” Sirius proclaimed from the few strides ahead he was, pointing his finger in Remus’ direction without turning around. “Dog-like hearing, Moony, don’t think you can get away with badmouthing me here!”

“Dog-like he says,” Remus whispered to you, earning him an indignant “oi!” as Sirius finally turned around.

“Gorgeous, would you tell your worse half to knock it off?”

“I sure will,” you declared, turning your body more towards Sirius in Remus’ grasp. “Siri, sweetheart, would you knock it off?”

Within the second, Sirius’ offended expression transformed into one of giddiness. “Awe, princess, you think of me as your other half?”

“Worse half, Pads,” James interjected, looking over his shoulder bemusedly.

“Do keep up,” Remus added with a half-hearted glare.

“Irrelevant!” Sirius threw his hands up and spun around in celebration. “I have won the title of her other half, you can get lost Moons.”

Remus used his arm around your shoulders to angle you back away from Sirius. “I think not. I’ve been keeping this friendship for so long, she’ll need a lawyer to get rid of me,” he stated matter-of-factly, looking down at you at the last bit. “Capiche?” He tilted his head at you.

You hummed through a poorly-withheld smile, as if you were considering it. “Sure thing, cariad. Meet with our lawyers tomorrow after lunch?”

Remus gasped as you ripped out of his grasp and stuck your tongue out at him. Flashbacks of your younger days chasing each other down dirt roads came to his mind and widened his grin as he saw you back away from him, eyes trained on his expression. 

“Minx,” he breathed out through a laugh just before you sat off running away from him; Remus hot on your heels, laughter escaping him freely. Sirius began running with you, though he was slowed as he twirled around and hollered, surely waking the entirety of the mountaintops surrounding the castle.

James had been minding his own business for once as he engaged in quiet conversation with Lily and Pandora, but his eyes twinkled as he eyed his three running friends, exchanging a knowing look with the redhead.

“Young love,” Pandora sighed dreamily, though James could never be certain if she was looking at the loud, carefree forms before them or at something entirely different.

Remus saw you stopped running while still some dozens of metres away from the castle, still facing away from him, but arms opening to accommodate for the impending crash of his body against yours. It does something funny to his heart to think about, but he just lets it widen his smile as he did exactly as expected – let his arms loop around your waist and twirl you around as he caught up to you. 

Your out-of-breath giggles permeated into his ears as his face was tucked in between your neck and shoulder as he slowed down, laughter calming in his own chest.

“Caught you,” he whispered through his own breathlessness. “Happy now?”

You turned in his grasp, squeezing at his shoulders both to show affection and seemingly to steady yourself as your chest still heaved; Remus held you tighter to help you in the latter endeavour. “Shook off Sirius for a bit, so yeah, I am. As should you be.”

He dropped his head laughing at that, glancing behind him through his hair to see Sirius bent over, hands on his knees as James had already caught up to him and was patting his back in sympathy. Any other time of the month, Remus would likely have been right there with him, but this was a good week and you always seemed to be able to find some semblance of energy within him, even if he thought he had none.

“I take back my calling you minx, then.” He looked at you with a smile. “That was strategic.”

“Are you saying minxes can’t be strategic, Loopy?” You raised your eyebrows at him teasingly, pulling slightly out of his grasp to breathe better.

“I’m saying– don’t call me Loopy.”

Your smile became almost taunting at that, and Remus knew his comment likely only worsened the likelihood of you using that nickname now. “I just remembered how I used to call you that the other day actually,” you mused, putting on an innocent smile. “I don’t remember why I stopped, I just forgot about it. I think it might be time for a renaissance.” 

“I think I’m too out of breath for you to say things like that. I can’t chase you any further, but that deserves to be chased.”

You shoved lightly at his shoulder at that. “You’re getting too old, you’re no fun.”

“I’m super fun. Textbook definition,” Remus harrumphed, gleaning when you rolled your eyes through a burst of laughter.

“No one who references textbook definitions is fun, Moons!” James called from where the group was catching up to you two, finally within earshot. 

Sirius was practically draped across James’ shoulder, breath still coming heavy. He pointed yet another accusatory finger, this time at you. “You’ll be the death of me, dollface. Merlin’s tits.”

“Don’t blame me for your own inadequacy, gorgeous,” you quipped back. It made Remus rather proud, especially when Sirius groaned dramatically in response.

“Time to get some beauty sleep then, yeah?” James coaxed, giving Sirius’ cheek a peck as he continued effortlessly dragging him in through the entrance of the castle.

Lily hummed in agreement, poking one of her boyfriends in the side. “Yeah, Sirius seems to need it.”

“You think I’m so sexy, Red, don’t lie to yourself,” Sirius mumbled, petulantly remaining worn out over James’ shoulders.

Remus smiled at his friends, hand reaching out behind him blindly, knowing you’d find it. Surely enough, your fingers intertwined with his own and gave him a little tug to hasten his gait down the hallways.

Moving up the staircases with surprisingly little trouble, the group finally found themselves outside the portrait of the Fat Lady, ready to split up with you and Pandora heading to Ravenclaw and the rest clambering inside. 

You made your goodbyes, quick hugs and kisses on cheeks with Lily and James and a kiss to the hand from Sirius who had decided to lay down dramatically on the floor. When you turned to Remus at last, just a tad bit away from the others, he enveloped you in a warm hug, breathing you in as he settled his chin on your shoulder.

“Let me walk you?” he asked, already knowing you would say no.

“Nice try Loopy, but I’d rather you go inside to the warmth and head to bed,” you murmured into his neck. “Thank you, though.”

You always said no. He always asked, anyway. Sometimes, if he was feeling particularly protective or otherwise missed you too much, he’d go with you anyway. Today he decided to respect your wishes.

“Tell me again why you had to be an independent person and get sorted into your own house?” he grumbled against you, smiling when he felt your chest rumbling beneath him. That same smile softened when your grip on him grew just the slightest bit tighter.

“Something tells me you’ll survive.” 

He tightened his hold on you in turn, one arm around your waist and the other stabilising your neck, before he spun your body around twice, twirling along the hallway. He relished in the laughter that escaped you and ensured to stamp a proper kiss to your hair before he released you back down to the floor.

“Sleep well, dove.”

“Goodnight, cariad,” you said through a soft smile, giving him and the others a small wave before turning around to where Pandora was waiting, grabbing her hand as you two all but skipped down the hallway together.

With his eyes still glued on your disappearing form, Remus nearly yelped as James’ hands came up to settle roughly on his shoulders – albeit somewhat careful of his joints – steering him through the now-opened portrait, who was rambling on with complaints about students taking up the space in front of her for too long.

“Funny that,” James started. 

Remus gave him a puzzled look. “What, Prongs?”

“Just that you danced with one Ravenclaw at the Three Broomsticks for two minutes and gained the colour and conversational skills of a tomato; but when you twirl and kiss this Ravenclaw, all you’re left with is that goofy grin of yours.” James’ comment seemed off-handed, said over his shoulder as they walked through the empty common room.

“First of all, it’s Y/N we’re talking about and not some Ravenclaw,” he started, confusion laced in his voice. In the meantime, James and Sirius kissed Lily goodbye, the latter giving her bum a light tap as she moved up the stairs to the girls’ dorms. “Secondly, it’s Y/N. She’s my best friend, and one of yours, mind you. What’s there to go all tomato for?”

“Some would argue, there is never any reason to go all tomato,” Sirius taunted, ducking the smack Remus aimed towards him.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” James laughed, literally waving it off. “Just pointing out the parallel. Ironic, innit?”

“Don’t see why it would be,” Remus grumbled petulantly in return. Sirius reached up to ruffle his hair somewhat roughly before entering their dorm, where Peter was already waiting for them, tucked into bed.

“What’re we laughing about tonight, fellas?” he questioned without looking up from the magazine he was reading through. Remus was fairly certain he had seen Mary reading through that very same magazine last week.

“Oh just at Remus’ peculiarities with birds.” Sirius felt emboldened with his comment from where he was crouched behind his bed – ample distance to protect him from Remus, he surely gathered.

“So, nothing new? Nice.” Peter returned his attention to the magazine it never really left.

“Yeah, don’t worry Pete – your friends are just as big arseholes as on any other day.” Remus bent down to pat the boy on the shoulder before moving over to his own bed, between Peter and Sirius’. 

“Hey, I don’t mean to be an arsehole,” James complained with almost a full pout across his lips within a second of Remus’ comment. “We’re just having a bit of fun psychoanalysing you, s’all.”

“Which, of course, is a generally accepted polite thing to do.” Remus nodded as if he was gravely understanding, only flipping James off when the other boy didn’t catch his sarcasm.

“No, Remmy, what would be rude is to point out how you are desperately–” Sirius began with taunting mirth plastered all over his face, but he was cut off as James all but jumped on him to cover his mouth. 

The black haired boy looked up at his boyfriend first with some offence and then a look Remus didn’t want to witness.

“How about we leave poor Moony alone for the night, huh baby?” James questioned, moving his hand away from Sirius’ mouth as the other boy nodded almost dumbly, still staring up at him.

“Who’s turning red now?” Remus whispered to himself as he looked through his trunk for his pyjamas. He barely had the reflexes to catch the pillow Sirius hurled at him, tossing it back with a loud laugh that was quickly reciprocated by his best mates.

As if a miracle had been awarded them by some forgiving gods, the boys’ dorm room quieted down fairly quickly after that. Sirius and James settled in Sirius’ bed for the night, barely fitting themselves onto the mattress that was almost too small for one boy, let alone two. Once in each other’s arms, however, it was an easy thing to drift off. Peter was asleep before the other three had even brushed their teeth.

Remus was the only one tossing. Not unusual, but he couldn’t really understand why that was tonight. 

His sleep cycle often closely followed the moon’s, and he was almost two weeks away from the full moon, a perfectly decent time for falling and staying asleep. Tonight, though, his body was once more fighting him. He kept replaying the night, the conversations, the interactions, trying to pin his unrest on something. He supposed that dance with Vance had been unexpected and the adrenaline spike of all the attention following it might still linger and make sleep evade him. 

Despite what his dismay for public romantic displays might indicate, Remus was no prude. As a matter of fact, just as Sirius had before he was locked down, Remus was no stranger to making his rounds at the occasional common room party. Rarer was it that he shagged anyone back home, as he spent most of his time with you, but it had happened here and there too. Vance and him had even spent a night together once at a quidditch afterparty, but he had no significant interest in her apart from a mutually understood night of fun. He never really did, even when his partners were great in all capacities. It just didn’t seem that romance was an object for Remus – and good riddance, if the struggles of dealing with it so far was any sign.

Perhaps that was it then, dancing with Vance had rehashed something for him. Though the idea didn’t settle well in his bones, Remus also knew that he would never settle if he didn’t give his mind an excuse for his sudden restlessness.

After checking the time with a hefty sigh, he decided to throw in the towel and took a small sip of a sleeping draught potion he had at the ready in his bedside table at all times. If sleep would not come to him, he would hunt it down damn it. His friends’ playful mockery and a dance he didn’t even want to partake in would not cause him any more torment.

As Remus slipped into the land of dreams, he may come to regret that sentiment, if but a bit.

There are warm bodies pressed uncomfortably close to him – the warmest of which has her arms around his neck, one hand scraping through his hair. It should feel good, Remus enjoys when his hair is played with, but this feels sharp enough to draw blood. Emmeline’s laugh is all he can make out over the chatter and stomping around him, but it feels wrong, scratchy like a record player. Her fingers on him are cold, unlike anything else in the room.

It is spinning. The room, that is. Remus is unfocused, as if he had been shooting vodka and not butterbeer earlier. He can’t quite make out any of his friends, or anyone really, Emmeline’s features bleeding out into the background.

For some reason his heart is pounding the way it does before his transformation. Everything feels painfully wrong and he is aware of every inch of his body where Emmeline is touching him.

She is still laughing and Remus is sure it would make his ears bleed, which only confuses him further because Emmeline is truly a nice girl. Just not one he wants to feel flush against himself at the moment.

He reaches a hand up to touch his ear – realising only now that his arms are hanging limply by his sides, the only static thing in the otherwise spinning room – and when he retracts his hand to look at it, his fingers are coated with blood.

His breathing grows ragged as he feels the blood running down the side of his neck. He has half a mind to tell Emmeline, to shout for help. He doesn’t. Nothing comes out when he tries to open his mouth, all control of his body ripped from his grasp.

With no warning he realises the wetness on his neck is not blood, but someone’s open mouth smearing kisses down it with reckless abandon. His stomach ties in knots and he wants to push Emmeline off of him, still to no avail.

Her grip on him tightens painfully, and Remus swears he feels a bone break. He would know.

The flurry behind her has just become a swirl of colours and sounds to him and Remus feels himself drowning in a moment he desperately wants away from. He shuts his eyes hard, taking deep breaths, trying to calm himself.

He feels a warmth in his chest, starkly different from the heat around him, that slowly, like thawing ice, begins to spread throughout him. He hums the melody you sang to him during his first ever panic attack, the sweet one that always lulls him to sleep, and the warmth spreads faster.

With his eyes still screwed shut, Remus begins to regain the feeling in his legs first, noticing them swaying back and forth to some calmer, unknown rhythm.

The feeling in his hand returns too, and it’s clasped around someone else's. Theirs is also warm, light and fits much better in his, though he’s not quite sure what he’s comparing it to.

The front of his body is warmer than the back as he’s pressed up against someone, swaying with them in a slow dance that would never have worked in the middle of Three Broomsticks. It flows with his soul.

At last, Remus can hear again, as if coming up from water. He hears that it was not him humming, but rather a soft figure tucked under his chin, humming the vibrations of the melody against the side of his neck.

When he tightens his arms instinctively, he does not need to open his eyes to know it is you.

He does anyway, looking down at you, standing in his arms, swaying together in an empty Gryffindor common room. There is a lazy smile on your lips as you look up at him, cheek against his chest, eyes twinkling like the starlight.

Remus feels right. Remus feels good. His thoughts are honey, sweet but slow, coating over any coherent reactions he might have to standing here with you like this. He escaped and he is with you and all is right once more.

Have you danced like this before? Did it feel like this then?

You seem unpuzzled, relaxed. The warmth settles in Remus for good.

“Hey handsome,” you whispered, as if you were sharing a secret with him before angling your face more up towards his.

Remus is not in charge of his body when his neck dips down and lets his lips meet yours halfway, casual and expectantly, a habit as much as a wish. You taste like yourself. You smell like yourself. Remus is surrounded by you, cornered by your smile against his lips.

You pull back all too quickly, furrowing your brows at him. Dream-Remus has no hesitation of removing the hand from around your back to thumb at the furrow, brushing away any negative thoughts from you. He kisses the spot between your eyebrows.

Everything is right.

When his eyes meet yours again, the concerned look in them has not changed. You reach a tentative hand up to his cheek, thumb swiping over his cheekbone as you hold him with what he irrevocably knows to be love. 

“It’s time to wake up, cariad,” you said with a small sad smile.

The last thing Remus remembers is the feeling of the floor disappearing beneath him.

Remus sat up with a gasp, and for a rare moment in time he was speechless.

He was not a stranger to invasive, questionable or downright spiritual dreams, a side effect of both his connection with the moon and the tons of potions he has taken over the years. Usually, he is present in his dreams and acts as his own little commentator during and after them, narrating what happens and what he thinks of it.

It was not uncommon for him to think “I think I will remember this one” as the final thought in a dream. Or when he wakes up in tears, his first thought was often “that was a bit dramatic of you, calm down”.

Now, he had nothing. Now, he was speechless.

Worse yet, usually when he wakes up with a jolt, it is in the middle of the night – but now, as his senses began to trickle back in, he could hear the commotion around him that only could mean the boys are at various stages in the process of getting ready.

Remus Lupin had just had a life-altering, earth-shattering dream, and James Fleamont Potter was repeatedly knocking his knee into his nightstand as he jumped around while tying his shoes on, instead of sitting down to do it like a normal person would.

He thought James was saying something, and maybe even to Remus specifically, but he could still hear the blood rushing through his head. Beneath that again, he could hear your humming. 

With a groan, Remus let himself topple over from his sitting position to land face-first into his duvet.

Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. What the fuck?

“Oi!” Remus finally heard, as what felt like a rolled up pair of socks hit his head. “What in Godrick’s name has gotten into you, mate? You good?” It was Sirius voice calling, seemingly from across the room.

Remus just groaned in reply. His eyes were wide open as he stared directly into his sheets, feeling both freezing cold and like his brain was slowed by a fever.

“You okay, Moons?” Peter’s voice came gentler from beside him. Remus thought his hand might be hovering near him, as if he was considering consolingly patting him but was unsure if he should.

Another groan.

“Okay, what about this: groan once if this is Moony mooning over something and twice if you’re in actual crisis,” James suggested, not unkindly.

A singular groan, though it sure did feel like two.

“Groan once if you’re a prick and twice if you’re insufferable,” Sirius felt the need to comment.

Instead of making any further sounds, Remus wrangled his arm from beneath the blanket to show Sirius how he felt about him in the moment with a gesture.

“Fantastic!” James exclaimed. “You have class in 35 minutes, Moons, and breakfast now, so best get a move on.” Remus heard the telltale sound of James leaving – as in, James’ heavy footsteps moving across the floor and Sirius scrambling like a dog to follow after him. At the complete lack of sounds in the rooms after that, he assumed Peter moused after them as well.

At last Remus sat up with a sigh and stared emptily in front of him, mind moving too fast for him to catch a thought but too slow for him to properly process anything.

What does this mean? 

Except Remus could no longer deny that he knew what it meant. That the instant your humming caressed his ears, he knew what it meant. That his subconsciousness wanted to replace a girl who saw him as a romantic prospect in a place Remus felt queasy in with you in a place he considered home. That is no coincidence.

And that when you kissed him–

Except you did not kiss him. Remus shook his head at that, as if the thoughts could just tumble out of his ears. You did not kiss him and he did not kiss you. Because this was a dream, it was not real and Remus must just be really, really unwell.

He felt unwell, but not in the way he was trying to convince himself.

Taking one deep breath, Remus looked to the awning of their little dormitory and shot out a silent prayer for any higher power to listen.

Put me back together, I cannot fall apart like this.

Bury this back down deep, I cannot feel like this.

It was going to be a long day.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

By the time Remus had made it to the entryway to the Great Hall, feeling frazzled and less put together than he had an excuse to, he saw his group of friends making their way out.

“Rem!” It was you who caught sight of him first, and immediately beelined towards him, the others following closely behind, wearing varying degrees of concern and confusion as they looked him up and down.

Your face was by far the most concerned, as you immediately brought your left hand up to cup his cheek. “Are you alright, cariad?”

For the first time in your almost two decades of friendship, Remus was painfully aware of your physical proximity.

He always knew, of course, but it never really registered with him – it was completely natural. Right now, nothing about him felt natural. You stood flush with him and he felt you against him like a fire, skin singeing beneath his clothes. Your eyes seemed so big looking into his that he could get lost in them, his only internal monologue being a dreamy sigh and a long string of curse words at the absolute madhouse chaos that his mind was becoming. As he looked at you, it was like he could see his version of you from his dream as well, how you looked at him with so much love and admiration, how your lips inched closer to his.

“Mate?” Remus realised then, that he had been staring at you for far too long, not answering your question, to the point where James had to try to catch his attention.

“I– uh,” Remus sputtered, eyes flickering wildly all over your face, panic rising in his chest as he realised he could not think clearly with you so close.

He took a step back without thinking, just barely out of your grasp but still close, and shook his head. “Sorry, yeah, no, yes, I just feel a bit… off today.”

The furrow between your brows deepend, and once more his mind flashed back to his dream. His hand twitched. It seemed like you weren’t even aware of it when you took a step closer, to be back by his side, reaching your wrist up to place it on his forehead to feel his temperature. “You’re feeling poorly?” you whispered so quietly and so lovingly Remus thought he might faint.

Was it always like this? It was always like this. Why was he freaking out about it then? He was freaking out. What the fuck was wrong with him?

With horror, Remus realised that a slight blush was creeping up his neck, and he fought hell to keep it down as he cleared his throat. “Just a little, uh, dove, it’s nothing to worry about.”

“Do you want to go lay down?” You began what he knew would be a string of suggestions for things to do to make him feel better, and he could not stand watching you be so concerned when he was lying to you.

Almost like a flinch, he pulled back out of your arms – properly this time, taking several strides backwards away from the group. It barely registered with him that James and Sirius were looking at him with some confused amusement while Lily looked sympathetic.

“I, erm, will be fine, yeah? Nothing to worry about.” Without properly looking, he reached an arm out to grab Peter by the shoulder and all but manhandled him to his side. “Peter and I have Herbology now, but uh, I’ll catch you later?”

Remus hated how everything he said sounded like a question, like he was running a lie by you for you to confirm if it was believable. Remus hated that he couldn’t tear his gaze away from your face for more than a few seconds and most of all he hated that he was spiraling under the weight of your gaze in turn. A horrible combination.

“Take care, Rem,” you whispered as he all but ran away from you, hauling Peter along.

You stood looking after him for a moment, only turning your head when you felt Lily’s reassuring hand on your shoulder to find a small smile on her face.

“What in the buggering hell was that?” Sirius questioned, looking mostly at you for an answer.

“I don’t know,” you said, honestly. Had you known, you might still not have told him, though, if you thought Remus wouldn’t want you to. “I usually always know about his moods before they come, but this has me stumped,” you murmured, mostly to yourself.

“He woke up weirdly,” James mused, rubbing his hand across his chin. “I guess we’ll just see where the day goes, yeah?”

The four of you nodded at each other, but you still gnawed on your lip in concern, glancing over your shoulder to where he disappeared. 

Whatever it was, you hoped he would come talk with you about it when he was ready.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus only had one hour to compose himself during Herbology before he had Charms with you. Sharing most of his classes with you was something he had always considered a blessing, and while that sentiment would likely never fade, it was also causing him some distress as he almost toppled the work desk with his jittering.

Peter didn’t question him, but Remus’ obvious nerves were apparently contagious for the anxious boy who jittered right along with him, casting him the occasional glance.

Letting his elbows fall heavily on the desk, Remus put his head in his hands and ignored the instructions Professor Sprout was walking them through – he would let Peter pick up the slack for once and then subsequently accept the lower marks. Right now, Remus had to think and get his shit together.

He breathed his way through some panic exercises and pictured you in his mind. It almost brought a smile to his lips in an instant and for the first time, he let the realisation of how irrevocably wrecked for you he was.

Has it always been like this? Why have I never put this into words before? How can I revert back?

In that moment, Remus decided two things. Firstly, there was no possibility of you returning his feelings nor would he ever expect you to. It was true that you accepted and loved him in a way he never could quite believe himself deserving of, but that in itself is testament that it couldn’t be any more. What you gave him was already too much, it would be unthinkable for you to harbour even deeper feelings for him.

Second, and most importantly, he could not lose you. Remus has made many mistakes in his time, but he could not live with himself if he lost you. It would be too much. Because regardless of the fact that he now knew he was– that he now knew what he knew, the friendship between you was the most important thing. It was Remus and Y/N, right?

He could not be weird and sputtering, he could not make you uncomfortable. Meaning, he could not withdraw from you despite his instinct to run and hide. Shame burned within him at the thought that even if he could withdraw he didn’t know if he could fight his want not to. You were muscle memory.

Remus opened his eyes and slowly dragged his palms down his face in resolution. He would have to act as if nothing was wrong, and he would have to lie through his bloody teeth to explain away whatever bodily reactions he has.

If he starts stammering, he will have to shut up and lie that he is tired. If he becomes an embarrassing shade of auburn, he will have to cough and lie that he might be coming down with a fever. If he shakes, it is because of lack of sleep. If he, Merlin forbids, cries, he will have to claim he must be coming down with some odd moonsickness. You will surely follow him to Madam Pomfrey and maybe it will be easier when you’re alone.

Or maybe it will be worse.

No matter which it was, Remus would have to soldier it, for your sake. You did not deserve his imposing infatuation, but you also did not deserve to lose what you thought to be a loyal friend.

When him and Peter packed up the barely-used desk and mumbled a goodbye to a disapproving Sprout in the door, Remus made it his mission to focus on his breathing again as he almost ran down the hallways to where your friend group always met up outside the Charms classroom.

Be normal, be normal, be normal.

Your eyes found him the second he rounded the final corner, almost as if you had been watching it, waiting for him. A beautiful smile lit up on your face as soon as you saw him, albeit a bit dampened by the worry in your eyes – he simultaneously wanted desperately to soothe you while also berating himself for it being there. His fault.

“Hey dovey.” He forced his words to be casual, his smile to be measured as he strode up beside you. 

This is where he is supposed to drag you into a sideways hug, squeezing your hips while dropping a kiss on the top of your head, causing Sirius to make some quip about “you were literally just gone an hour. He stood beside you perhaps a beat too long before he began to do so with shaking hands, and he felt your burning look as you studied him. Remus made it all the way up to where he would kiss your head before he chickened out due to the tornado screaming in his stomach.

“Hi, Rem,” you all but whispered, your words just for him. You opened your mouth to say more, but he was afraid of what it would be.

“Waited long?” he asked to distract you from it.

“Nah,” you said and leaned further into his side. “But I’m glad you’re here now. How’re you feeling?”

At that, he saw Peter, Sirius, James and Lily – who had been stuck in their own little world – look up and try to hear what he has to say. Remus crumbled under their watchful gazes, knowing they knew him well enough to pick apart his every little reaction. He cleared his throat.

“I don’t really know,” he settled for. “My head’s murky, didn’t sleep well.”

You made a soft cooing sound and started rubbing circles on the side of his hip from where your arms were circled around him. It knocked a wave of dizziness into him that made him want to take a step back to lean against the cold stone wall behind you. In replacement he settled for holding onto you tighter; it only made it worse.

“Are you sure you don’t want to go lay down? Merlin knows we won’t be missing out on anything with the way Flitwick rambles away any sense he might have.”

This is where Remus would laugh heartily at your obvious disdain for the professor that he never truly understood. Instead, his mind zeroed in on one word you said.

We. We, we, we, we.

Circe’s tits, did he want to take you up on that.

He swallowed, acutely aware that you must have heard the sound when stood so close to him, though you didn’t give away any reaction. To buy himself a moment to collect his thoughts, Remus finally dared tilt his chin downwards to kiss the top of your head. It might have been too slow, too tentative, but his heart was beating so fast the rest of his body felt too slowed down in comparison. He hoped you thought the kiss was a thank you for caring and not the nervous stall it was. He hoped he wouldn’t be eternally damned for breathing in the scent of you.

“I’m quite alright, dove,” he murmured instead, furiously avoiding the surely questioning gazes of his other friends. “Thank you, though.”

You grumbled some but didn’t push him on it. He silently thanked you for that, too.

His throat was too parched to partake in the silent banter amongst his friends as you walked into Charms, too focused on where your bodies brushed as you walked, too deafened by the sound of your laughter.

You sat down in your regular spots, you and Remus side by side in the front, with Sirius and James behind you and Lily and Mary to your right. This was normal, this was alright. Flitwick droned on about the theoretics and debates around the charms you learned last lesson, it went in one ear and out the other.

Absentmindedly, you had grabbed Remus’ hand lightly between yours and were tracing soothing circles along his wrist and palm. You meant so well, and this would have cured likely any other ailment Remus struggled with, but right now there were fireworks going off in his head.

Taking advantage of the notice Dumbledore had given all of his professors to not call Remus out on sleeping in class, he folded his arms and laid his head down on them, carefully not to take his hand away from you. If he could shield his face, he could probably talk himself down before class ended.

In the solitude of his arms, he could picture it was just the two of you, sitting in the treehouse you built between your houses as children. If he focused enough, he could smell the apples that grew around him and feel the rough wood beneath his stomach. There, your hand would still be in his, maybe even your cheek on his chest, and it would be alright. It would all be alright because it was just you, and Remus could play dumb and he would never have to realise his feelings and fuck himself over.

It almost worked. Until he was interrupted.

“Psst! L/N?” The whisper was laced with a laughter Remus knew too well and did not care for.

You clearly ignored it – Remus could practically see the eye roll you surely threw his way – but that wasn’t enough to stop his theatrics.

“L/N!” Barty called once more from a couple seats behind you to your right, voice threatening to alert Flitwick to your inattention. “What’s wrong with your dog?”

“What?” you whispered back in equal parts confusion and irritation.

“Your puppy, Lupin,” Barty said, as if it was obvious. Unfortunately, Remus could picture his eye roll too, though his stomach was turning for a wholly different reason. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Remus is quite alright, Junior,” you hissed back, hand tightening on Remus’ at the same time as he loosened it. “And don’t call him a dog.”

Remus slowly lifted his head from his arms and took back his hands to wipe harshly at his face, still not looking towards Junior who barked a low laugh.

“Follows you around like one. Wouldn’t surprise me if you had some invisible leash going on–” Barty quipped, cutting himself off before you could respond and turning to Evan Rosier sitting beside him. “Oooooh, an invisible leash is a marvellous idea, Rosie.”

It was clear you had lost his attention, but Remus’ face still burned painfully as he shifted in his seat. With a harrumphing sound, you turned to look at him. He didn’t meet your eye, couldn’t.

“Ignore him.” Remus always marvelled at how you manage to convey your frustration and care at the same time.

He just hummed in the affirmative, still wiping a bit harshly at his face. If he treated it harshly enough, could he blame his violent flush on it?

“Cariad,” you mumbled, gently taking his hands away from his face, clearly spotting his efforts.

He saw your furrowed eyebrows looking at him, and that was the end of what he could take for the lesson. As you opened your mouth, surely to inquire about how he is, like the beautifully kind person he knows you to be, he pushed his chair backwards.

“I think I should probably listen to you and go lay down, dove,” he murmured, avoiding your gaze. Before you could shoot in and say you would come with him, he continued. “Can you please take notes for me in Transfiguration after this?” 

An indirect rejection, a plea for isolation. He didn’t look at your face as he gathered his things, waiting for you to respond instead.

“Sure, if that’s what you want,” you said carefully.

What I want is you.

“Yes, please.” Taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and pressed a parting goodbye kiss to your cheek, tradition. “Thank you, love.”

Then he was sneaking his way out around the desks, barely catching a murmured voice he knew to be Sirius’, likely leaning forward to ask you about him. His lips singed.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Remus hid away in his room for two hours, actually being truthful and trying to get a nap in. The dorm room felt serendipitous, being swept up in rare silence and a grace of darkness as he trickled in and out of consciousness. If he dreamed more of you, he would not admit it.

Any semblance of reprieve he might have chased down was ripped away from him by the creaking of the door and the wall of sound that followed his three favourite boys who always got on his last three nerves.

“Oi, Moons!” Sirius exclaimed, far too cheerily. “You know the rules!”

Remus propped his head up on his elbow from where he was sprawled on his stomach, looking blearily at the three figures as they situated themselves within the dorm. “The rule to not wake a sleeping sod? Yes, I’m the only one who knows that rule it seems.”

Sirius took off his sweater as he discarded his uniform and used it to swat at Remus. “Nope! No wallowing on your own. Sharing is caring.”

“‘M not wallowing,” Remus grumbled as he let his head fall back into his pillow.

Letting his guard down was undoubtedly a mistake because the second Sirius was out of sight, he had the audacity to jump into Remus’ bed, nearly flinging him off from the impact. Both Sirius and James were laughing boisterously as Sirius collapsed on top of Remus and ruffled his hair when he tried to shove him off. “Not anymore, no, we won’t let you.” 

Remus hated that he loved them.

“Precisely,” James added as he pointed at Remus from where he was changing into his non-uniform clothes as well. “So either speak your mind or perk up, buttercup.”

Remus groaned but let Sirius drag him up into a sitting position. “Can a poor lycanthrope not have one off day without you lot getting your knickers in a twist?” Despite his best efforts, there was no ire in his voice.

“Nope!” James said, popping the p. “Not on our watch.”

“Life is simply miserable without our Moony,” Sirius said, clutching his chest as if he was ailing. “And do you have any idea how weird it is to see your sweetheart without you by her side? It’s like watching a cut up picture.”

All humour that had been creeping into Remus’ expression was washed away in and instant as he swallowed harshly, suddenly averting his gaze from Sirius. Instead, James caught it, who looked at him with big eyes behind his glasses, cocking his head to the side. He looked far too much like the stag he is, before his mouth opened in a small gasp. “Oh,” he whispered softly.

Remus’ heart was beating painfully hard at the look of realisation that crossed his face, turning back to Sirius who had a similar knowing, almost pitying look in his eyes. No, no, no, no.

“I’ll be fine, you, erm, won’t have to live without me much longer,” Remus tried to volley back, just a few seconds too late, tongue feeling heavy at being found out.

If his best mates could see through him that quickly, then you probably already had. He had half a mind to take you up to the Astronomy Tower like old times, so he could apologise and then jump off as an act of redemption.

Sirius gave his shoulder a rough squeeze, shaking him a little as if he knew what was going through his mind. “Fantastic. Then you’ll join us for our free periods, yeah? And the party later tonight?”

Still somewhat sputtering, Remus’ eyes widened to an extent he was sure was comedic. “The pa– the party?”

James smiled at him. “Yeah, Moons. Gryffindor half-term party? That we have talked about all week?”

“Merlin, maybe Pomfrey needs to go easy on the potions she gives you,” Sirius teased, getting up to finish changing.

“Or she could give me more,” Remus whispered hopefully, earning him a round of chuckles. 

“You’ll be fine, Rem,” James said, with an undertone Remus did not care for. “If you’re still feeling… off throughout the day and night, you can always snuggle up with a book and ignore us hooligans.” Then, almost as if he was testing the waters. “I’m sure Y/N would love to join you.”

Remus didn’t deign any of that with a response, but he suddenly thought he should get out of his bed so his face didn’t seem so red in contrast with the white sheets.

“I have some essays to knock out, so yeah, I’ll join you to study,” Remus relented. He opened his own trunk to get changed, but decided to half-ass it and just take off his tie and replace his uniform wool with one of his own patterned jumpers.

“And for the party later!” Sirius corrected, ensuring Remus didn’t think he could back out.

“Sure, sure.” He ruffled his own hair so it was Remus-messy and not Sirius-messed-up-my-hair-messy. “Let’s just go.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Considering the extent to which he could fuck this up for himself, Remus reckoned he had been doing fairly good keeping his shit together throughout the day.

If he mentally cursed more than normal, contemplated the murder of each one of his friends including himself and generally couldn’t breathe, well, that was merely part of it.

The whole lot had shacked up in the library for the triple free periods you had back to back on Fridays. While you doted concernedly over him for the first thirty minutes, you eased up once you seemed to decide that this wasn’t Remus shoving down some lycanthropy-struggles and avoiding support and help. 

As always, the two of you sat in the love seat, your legs sprawled over his lap as you read through your textbooks in the oddest positions. This was usually something he might chide you for – “your neck will hurt if you hang over the edge like that, love” – but today he buried his face into his textbooks with all his might to not seem like he was aware of your body. He was, of course, you burned over his skin and lit up his heart, and Circe’s tits was he the stupidest sod in the whole castle.

Nonetheless, he made it through all three hours, engaging in comforting banter and low laughs with his best mates. When you teamed up with him to mess with Sirius, he at least knew that you weren’t upset with him in any way, even though he was being a lunatic today, even though he most definitely would have deserved it.

What Remus knew would be his breaking point was the Gryffindor party.

It was a laid back event, a party thrown for all of Gryffindor, though it was mostly the upper years who were encouraged to attend. They arranged it halfway through every term to celebrate making it through and engaging with each other. Meaning, most people didn’t get shitfaced but there was some good bubbling energy maintained throughout the whole night.

You and Remus had a tradition for how you dealt with parties – just as you had a tradition for pretty much everything, he had come to notice. Gods, he lov– Stop it.

Neither one of you were necessarily fond of large crowds, but you both were incredibly loyal and fond of your friends and wanted to spend time with them. Thus, you attended the parties, but you always did so together. The more uncomfortable you got, the closer you would get to each other, and if one ever needed a break, they would tap the other three times and they would make up an excuse to usher them out of there.

It had never felt so unnerving to be so known.

Throughout the whole party he had been jittery, head rushing with thoughts. He desperately tried not to take in your outfit and then he desperately tried not to read into it when you seemed disappointed he didn’t compliment you for it like he usually did. Why did he have to be such a sweet best friend normally? Remus can’t keep up with himself.

It did not help him in the slightest that others around the party seemed to focus on your outfit much more openly than he could dare. It made him gravitate even closer to you, tighten his hand on his hip, momentarily rest his chin on the top of your head – and then his actions made him want to kick himself. Possessiveness was the last thing he could be engaging with when he was already betraying you in such a manner. 

Leave it to Remus to fuck up something beautiful.

To say you didn’t seem to notice that he was troubled would be taking it too far, but at least you didn’t seem to notice why. You kept him close to your side and would at random points stroke his back soothingly. He wondered if you just thought he was uncomfortable with the party.

You were chatting with Pandora by the drinks table when Barty and Evan strolled up to you both with cheshire cat grins.

“There he is, back on his leash,” Junior said through a menacing laugh, ignoring Evan’s slight elbow to his side. “Feeling better, darling?”

“What brings you to the lions' den, Junior?” Remus asked carefully to divert the topic.

“Well. Y/N’s going so Pandora’s going so Evan’s going, and thus–” he did a small flourishing spin “– I’m going.”

“You’re impossible,” Evan murmured, while Pandora just smiled happily. 

“Is he feeling better, then?” Barty asked once more, this time looking at you.

“No, actually,” you said with a small smile Remus knew not to be genuine. “He is absolutely devastated you’re not in the Slytherin common room right now. He had big plans for you there, you know.”

Remus tried to choke down his laugh as Barty looked torn between glee and irritation. Somehow he made both work. “Sorry to soil your plans then, Lupin. Better luck next time.”

Then he stalked off in almost a hurry and Remus couldn’t help but hope he was going to Slytherin to check if you were telling the truth. 

He looked down at where you were standing beside him and squeezed your shoulder lightly. “You really are a minx,” he whispered conspiratorially.

That turned out to be his undoing. You turned your head to the side to look up at him with mirth playing around in your enamouring eyes, a soft tilt to the corner of your mouth. And your face was oh so painfully close to his.

Remus became acutely aware that he could easily lean in and catch your smile with his. That the air he was breathing had been close to you in some of the only ways he had not yet. That he must look like your boyfriend when you’re standing essentially pressed up against each other like this.

That he most certainly has been looking at your lips for far too long.

When he flicks his gaze back up, he sees a slight furrow between your brows again as you seem to take in his reaction, and suddenly he goes from having butterflies in his stomach to needing to throw them all up. He took a sudden staggering step backwards, almost crashing into James who was engaging in some animated discussion with Marlene.

“I, uh,” Remus said and dear Godrick he was stammering. “I’ll get us some drinks and we can sit down, yeah?” He didn’t wait for you to respond, instead spinning his back to you and hoping you pick up conversation with Pandora again.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Don’t be a bloody arse.

He hoped he had steadied himself enough by the time he plopped down in his favourite grandfather chair near the fire. He placed both of your drinks on the table in front of him, vowing to touch his as minimally as possible to make sure he keeps whatever wits he has left with him.

A dumb smile takes over his face as his breathing quickens when he sees you make your way over to the seating area, after having listened to his desperate silent plea and finished your conversation with Pandora. Pushing his luck, he shoots another silent prayer that it will be smooth sailing from here, which is apparently promptly ignored as you happily sit down in his lap.

Fuck.

This, he reminds himself, is also normal for the two of you. Especially at parties, especially if you have reason to believe he is unsteady in any sense of the word, which he most certainly has given you plenty of reason to believe. 

You give him some form of greeting he can’t quite catch and isn’t sure if he reciprocated as you settle down, putting majority of your weight on his right thigh as you lean your body sideways against his. One of your arms snuck around his shoulders, fingers winding up playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, while the other is stabilising yourself on his knee. Majority of your close friends had followed your lead by sitting down in the small gathering, chattering amongst themselves. He was half-aware that you were rambling on about something to him, something he probably really wanted to listen to, but it felt like his head was underwater.

Unsure of what else to do, he lowered his face into your shoulder and took deep breaths there.

You seemed wholly unbothered, fingers continuing in his hair as your soothing voice carried him through what he feared might become a panic attack. He was almost there, when the cocoon you two had in your chair was burst by the presence of your other friends.

“You alright there, Moons? You’re not going to go all vampire on poor Y/N?” Sirius’ tone was lighthearted and teasing, but Remus felt as if he might actually die.

“Oh, he’s quite alright,” you answered for him with a smile before he could embarrass himself, immediately switching over to engage in conversation with the friends sitting closest to you. Your hand on his knee squeezed reassuringly.

Fuck, how could he not love you?

He loved you.

Remus almost had to fight crying as he hid in the crook of his neck, overwhelmed by his own emotions and the surely watchful gazes of those around him – the latter of which was why he couldn’t. 

With a deep breath he let his desire win for just one second and pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder before emerging from his hiding place. He shifted you carefully to be more comfortable, so that your back was against him and he could rest his head on the shoulder he just kissed.

He did fairly good, partaking in conversation, engaging with the others, albeit more quietly and less than usual. He laughed and he smiled and you were so soft against him, as if you had melted. Remus was in heaven while being tortured.

Marlene wolf whistled quietly from where she was sat on the floor, eyeing Remus with mirth. Though he still did not know why, he was already turning red, the tips of his ears burning.

“Hi, Remmy.” He heard the soft voice say beside him and he turned his head to see Emmeline giving him a somewhat sly smile. “The dance floor’s picking up. Want to go for another round?”

Remus’ stomach churned. Emmeline was such a sweet girl and he never could say no to her, the only thing that felt worse than the embarrassment from his friends’ teasing was the thought of embarrassing her – though Remus was sure even thinking like that made him into an even bigger arse.

Sirius and James had told him multiple times that he could say no. As had you, reminding him how important it was to have boundaries, even while you were sitting practically on top of him at the time. He just could never bring himself to.

Yet his mouth seemed to move on its own accord before he could think, arms tightening around you. “No, not tonight Emmeline, sorry. Knock yourself out, though.” He tried to give her a warm smile, but his movements seemed to be outside of his control at the moment, breath sucked from his lungs.

He realised with a sting that he should have given her more credit all along when she beams back at him. “No worries, enjoy your night!” she cheered before twirling towards the dance floor herself.

Remus let out a shaky breath and turned to his friends who were almost staring him down. James’ mouth was even open in shock, which he thought was a bit dramatic.

“Hold on, what just happened?” Sirius guffawed. “Has our little Moony learned to say no?”

Remus flushed even further. “Shut up, Pads.”

“Don’t think I will,” his mate replied with a wolfish grin turning to look to the others for support. “Never thought I’d see the day.”

“What’s inspired this change in you?” Mary asked thoughtfully, propping her head into her hands as if she was settling in for a lengthy response.

All eyes were back on Remus and he felt like the mask he had been clinging to all day was crumbling. The nerves that shot through him like lightning now was not his usual humiliation from being in a charged spotlight – no, this was fear. Genuine fear that if he didn’t get his head screwed back on within two seconds, he might say something too revealing, or his face would do it without him having to open his mouth. That his fiery ears would somehow spell out I am in love with my very best friend and I realised it too late and am making it everybody else’s problem. He had no idea what to do.

In his time of despair, with Mary’s big eyes staring up at him, Marlene and Lily already snickering between them and Sirius raising an expecting brow, his instincts knew of only one way out.

His finger on your hip lifted. Tap, tap, tap.

Almost as if a switch had gone off, you made a soft gasp and turned to look at him in his lap. “Gods, Rem, speaking of Emmeline, I totally forgot our gift for Sirius in my dorm room in Ravenclaw!” you exclaimed, putting your all into the act. Your excuse seemed to be a good one as Sirius’ head immediately picked up, not unlike that of a dog’s if you said the word ‘treat’ around them. “We have to go get it before the party’s over.”

You elegantly hopped up and out of his lap, dragging him behind him with a grip on his elbow. Remus stumbled and scrambled behind you, tossing a sorry don’t know what that’s about look to the others over his shoulder. He barely caught sight of what he could only classify as a knowing exchange of smiles between James and Lily.

Before he could truly process your rescue mission, he was standing outside in the cool hallway breathing heavily, portrait closed behind him. 

Before him, you stood with your hands on your hips, scanning his face thoroughly, making him almost cower beneath your gaze. You seemed to make up your mind about something as you took his hand once more and walked with him down the hall in silence, rounding the corners until you reached one of the deep windowsills, the kind the two of you would always sit in and read. 

You jumped to lift yourself into it and once you were sat with one hand on each side of your body, you levelled him with a look.

“Okay, spill,” you said, directly but not unkindly. “What is going on with you?”

Remus did not think this through. He needed help and so he called upon you for it like he always does, not thinking to consider that that might very well make this worse for him.

“It’s…” he began, picking at straws in his mind for an excuse. “It’s nothing, dove. Really.” 

“When’s my birthday?” you asked then, to his surprise. He furrowed his brows at you and told you the date. You smiled a bit smugly. “Exactly. So you know I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He genuinely laughed at that, even if it was at his expense. He let his body do as it wished and took a small step closer to you. Not enough for your bodies to touch, but enough to feel like he was in your space. Safe, even in his panic.

“Remus,” you said softly, painfully gently. You rarely used his first name, and now when you did, it was laced with an undertone he couldn’t stomach. It was beginning to sound a bit like hurt. “What is going on with you? Why… why are you acting this way towards me?”

Because you are the one thing I have never had to question and now I’m questioning everything. Because I’m a bloody prick who has one dream and ruins his life over it. Because my mind is running a mile a minute and your lips feel like magnets and I swear I am losing control in a way I only do during full moons.

“I don’t know what to do,” he ended up whimpering quietly, cowardly.

You looked around the hallway as if the answer would be written on any of the walls and moved your arms slightly to gesture around you. “About what? I can’t help you unless I know what it is, cariad.”

He scrunched his face for a moment, looking away from you. “Can we not do this? It’s nothing you can fix, dove.”

You seemed to grow even more confused at that, almost frustrated. “Why not?” He realised then that the two of you had always helped each other through everything. Being locked out must hurt. He wanted to kick himself, but he didn't know what else to do. “What’s wrong, Remus, please I just–”

Remus is besieged by the power of someone much more reckless, driven by desire to alleviate you of your confusion and him of his pain.

He cut you off with a kiss.

He took a large stride forward to slot himself in between your thighs, eliminating the space between you within a second, bringing both hands up to cup the sides of your face and bring it towards him. His eyes were shut tightly, furrow in his brows as his lips all but smashed against yours in a kiss that felt sacrificially sacred. Your lips are just as soft as in his dream, as is the small gasp that escapes you as you tense in his grasp.

Remus has never felt better and he has never felt worse.

The kiss lasts for about 10 seconds before he pulls away in even more of a flurry. His hands lost their grip on you first, hovering over your cheeks briefly, as if considering going back in before thinking better of it. He still had you captured in the kiss, hanging on to it for as long as he could deign himself, knowing it was his last opportunity to do so, all the while kicking himself over it.

Backing away, he put double the distance between you. He felt drunk, stumbling slightly as he all but scrambled away, a stinging sensation behind his eyes.

“I’m so sorry, I don't know why I did that. I didn’t mean to,” he breathed out, reeling at his own impulsivity. “That,” he said through a shaking voice as he looked anywhere but your face, “is my problem, and Y/N, I am so, so sorry. I’m so sorry.”

For the shortest second, he lets his eyes flicker quickly over your face before rushing back to stare at a statue on the wall beside you. Your face was blank, eyes wide. Your fingers were barely touching the lips he had just enclosed in his own.

You must be disgusted. You must be horrified. You must feel violated and Remus wanted nothing more than to disappear from the face of the earth and rid you of this undying problem.

He was every bit the beast you had tried to convince him he wasn’t.

“Why…” you began, voice but a whisper, before you trailed off.

Remus had to shut his eyes at that, tilting his head slightly to the side. If he breathed through his nose, he might not cry. He was sitting before the highest court he knew, and you were about to ask him to explain himself.

“Why are you sorry?”

The words floored him a little, enough to make his eyes snap open and land back on your face. You looked deeply concerned, brows tilted upwards as you seemed to take his face in. “Remus,” you whispered now that you finally had his eyes on you. “Why are you sorry?”

He shook his head in confusion, feeling every bit like the boy he was. “I shouldn’t have done that.” It was all he could get out through his hoarse voice. He also had no idea how to answer that question in a satisfactory way.

You took in a short sharp breath and then lowered yourself onto the ground to stand before him. With your hands held out in front of you, almost as if you were ready to lunge out and catch him if he was to run – an idea that was becoming increasingly enticing to him – you took a small step towards him. “Why?” There was a growing spark in your eye, dimmed only by your worried frown.

“Y/N.” He didn’t know what else to say, eyes trained on you.

“Cariad,” you replied in the same tone, and a tear slipped down his left cheek. You took another measured step towards him, enough to reach out for him if you wanted to – but of course, you wouldn’t want to, not anymore. “It’s alright.”

He felt dizzy at the lack of the scolding or disgust he had braced himself for, realising how stupid he was for even fearing that from you. No, you would reject him sweetly and kindly, and his heart would never be mended from it. That felt worse, somehow.

“It’s not,” he whispered. “Please don’t say it is.”

You smiled ruefully and took another small step towards him. He could feel the warmth eminating from you. Tentatively, you reached up a hand to wipe at the tear still sitting on his left cheek. He held his breath and fought the urge to lean into your touch, but when you pressed your palm more firmly against his cheek, he couldn’t anymore. A soft sigh escaped him and he let his eyes fall shut as your touch supported him. “It is, my sweet boy,” you whispered with an urgency that almost convinced him. “Remus, can you answer me honestly?”

His body tensed once more as his eyes fluttered open to find yours, reverent. Most parts of him were still screaming at him to run away, to shut up, to do anything but this. His heart seemed to be in charge for the moment, though, and he nodded slowly. Trusting you with his world even as he felt like a traitor in yours.

“All this, today… has it been because you have realised you’re… in love with me?” You seemed to be piecing it together as you said the words out loud, eyes carefully searching his face for his reaction.

Another tear slipped down his cheek, and you quickly caught it with your other thumb, both hands now cradling his face. “I’m so sorry,” he said once more.

“You’re not allowed to be,” you whispered, giving him a half-smile, almost as if you were indulging him in a secret of yours. “Please answer the question?”

It was now or never. “Yes.”

To his utter surprise and deep-seated confusion, the smile on your face grew genuine, settling into the one he always searched for. He almost opened his mouth to question it before he was cut off.

No words can describe the sensations that bloomed in his chest, the butterflies that flitted in his stomach, when you used your hands on his face as leverage to pull him towards you for another kiss.

You kissed him. You kissed him. You were kissing.

His mind was threatening to take off like a rocket and captiulate, but his hands had never been more steady as they circled around your waist, splaying out over the small of your back as he dragged you closer. You sighed against him, smile still evident over your lips, and Remus dared – like the bastard he was – to mirror it. 

You were warm against him, but wholly different than you had been in his dream. This felt distinctly real. And just as right.

When you pulled away, your hands had migrated to the back of his neck and you kept your forehead leaned against his. “Good,” you murmured with your eyes still closed. “Because the feeling is mutual.”

He almost reared his head away from you, but managed to only pull back a few centimetres to stare at you in awe. Remus opened his mouth, but no words came out; he could find none intelligent enough to verbalise how utterly gobsmacked he felt.

You seemed to understand him just as well, going by your breathy laugh. There was still that spark in your eye, now shining brightly in the absence of your worry. Had the worry been for him?

“I know I don’t say this enough, but you really are quite an idiot, aren’t you?” you laughed and he slowly felt his heart start beating again.

“Spent too much time with Sirius and James, clearly,” he muttered, half expecting the joke to land flat and you to remember how disgusting he was. Instead, your laugh intensified and you leaned your body further against his. It emboldened him to ask, “What do you mean the feeling is mutual, dove?”

You let your arms glide further up, crossing behind his neck and over his shoulder, bringing him impossibly closer. “Remus John Lupin,” you whispered sincerely. “I am madly in love with you. Romantically. Genuinely. Any thoughts you have that explain that away are false and you mustn't listen to them. I thought you knew by now that I’m always right.”

Even as the grin involuntarily established itself on his face, his eyes were shining with unshed tears. He looked at your face, truly studied it, and he could feel his mind ever so slowly calm down. “You are.”

“What am I?” You were testing him, and he allowed it wholeheartedly.

“Right,” he confirmed. Albeit a bit more hesitantly, he knew better than not to add, “and… in love with me?”

“Two points to Gryffindor.” You reached up to give his lips a soft peck. It felt so natural, like it was already habit for you. He desperately wanted it to be.

“I’m sorry, I’m still reeling from this, dovey,” he confessed, trying to process everything.

There had never been any judgement to be found in your face. “Which parts are you struggling with the most?” 

Your eyes were full of understanding, your face scrunched up in concentration. Remus indulged himself in an old habit by reaching up with one hand to thumb the furrows away. It made you smile just like he wanted it to, and gave him a minute to think. “I don’t understand how I didn’t get it before now. I don’t understand how or why you put up with me. I don’t understand how to keep all these feelings inside such a small heart.”

Your hands were stroking his back carefully as you considered his words. “Well, firstly I would argue your heart isn’t small at all, though I get what you mean. You’re not meant to keep all the feelings inside, you know? That’s when you get all sputtery and jittery and start avoiding your best friends.” You gave him a pointed look and he almost shied under your glance. “Sharing them before you bubble over is always a good thing. We’ll work on it together. As for why I put up with you; I don’t. There’s nothing to put up with, I just enjoy you like we always have.”

Your eyes had trailed off into the distance as you thought, but you brought them back to him with a small smile as you added the final part. “I don’t know what did make you realise, so I can’t help you much there. All I can say is, sometimes we don’t see what is right in front of us.”

Remus nodded along to your words, feeling peace spreading within in that manner only you could inspire in him. He truly was an idiot, wasn’t he? “How long have you known?” he asked then, curiously.

“About you or me?”

“Both?” His smile was becoming closer to his standard sheepish one, and you seemed to preen at the sight.

You bobbed your head side to side as you considered. “It’s hard to pinpoint an exact date – it wasn’t an overnight discovery you know?” Remus did in fact not know nor relate. “But I realised we were in love, not either one’s feelings. It just sat calmly within me.”

“You mean you didn’t freak out to the extent where all students and professors alike were worried about you?”

He grinned at the small giggle that drew from you as you decidedly said, “No. Definitely not.” You studied him for a minute more. “I think I realised about five months ago, but I didn’t feel any real need to rush anything. It felt less like being given a to-do list and more like being revealed the plot twist in a movie before it happens, if you understand? The two best friends get together in the end, don’t tell anyone.”

He ducked his head at that. While he could not relate, your explanation and experience was so wholeheartedly you that it endeared him to no end. “Does that mean we should just ignore it for five more months or…?” His grin turned cheeky as you lightly swatted his shoulder.

“Nah,” you chuckled. “I reckon we’ve waited long enough, yeah?”

He sighed with a smile. “Yeah.”

You both leaned forward at the same time, as if to seal the deal with a kiss. Remus could feel it like electricity in the tips of his fingers, and he understood what you meant about knowing. Now that he was no longer in a constant state of panic, he felt incredibly calm about the whole ordeal.

Or maybe that’s just how he feels around you.

“Should I ask you formally to be my girlfriend, or are we just skipping straight to marriage?” he whispered against your lips.

Remus felt almost wolfish when you barked a loud laugh, throwing your head back and tightening your hold on him instinctively. “I think girlfriend’s enough for now, yeah cariad?”

“If you insist.” He kissed you through his grin, realising that this was all he wanted to do now.

Like he had so many times before, he tightened his arms around your waist and twirled you around in a few circles, legs flying out behind you. Except this time, your giggles were not hidden in his neck but pressed against his lips, and he tried to capture as many kisses as possible while he spun you.

When you landed with a breathless giggle, he kept one arm firmly around your waist as the two of you slowly made your way back to the Gryffindor common room. He wondered if maybe he could grab some blankets and bring you up to the Astronomy Tower so you could be alone without his friends’ meddling. Yet, he wanted to see them as well, ready to volley back any quips about “took you long enough” and “I fucking called it”. Plus, you argued that you should prove that he was in fact alive and sane.

When he walked the halls back to the Gryffindor common room with your body against his, everything felt right. When you entered together, and everyone read what had happened written clearly across your faces, resorting to their usual hoots and hollers, arguably louder than ever before, it never stopped feeling right. 

Remus being Remus, flushed deeply and averted his gaze, as he would continue doing under any uncalled for attention – but your arms squeezing him around the middle brought him right back down and your kiss to his shoulder soothed the burn of their gazes.

“What’s my gift then?” Sirius later asked salaciously as he eyed you two up and down where you cuddled together right back in the same chair, as if nothing changed. Maybe nothing really did.

You grinned widely and cleared your throat. “I honourably present to you,” you said and opened your arms towards Remus with a flourish. “A Moony who is no longer mooning.”

The little group erupted in even more cheers, celebrating the massive feat of taming their brooding boy. Remus couldn’t help but laugh along, even at his own expense. His cheeks were red but it was equally due to the exertion of laughing as it was a tinge of embarrassment. When he hid his face into the crook of your neck again, he didn’t feel nearly as guilty when he pressed a few kisses to the bare skin he found there – even less so when you melted against him with a sigh.

It felt as if a permanent smile had been sown onto his face where he sat, more content than he believed he had been while inside this castle.

Despite Remus Lupin’s disdain for public displays of affection, he had held you publicly many times before this. They all paled in comparison to the feeling of you in his arms now. 

It had always been significant to him in its casualty, just as you have always been significant to him long before he had the mind to put the feeling into words. He will always treasure every moment of your existence in his orbit. Yet the way you melted into his skin now, growing roots in each one of his aching bones – no, nothing could compare to it.

Yes, Remus Lupin ailed from public displays of affection. But you were his cure.

[bring-forth-his-sac]

THE MAN FOR THE JOB - PART 1

Summary: when your father makes a bad choice, you become Negan’s latest wife

Pairing: Savior’s Era Negan x virgin!Reader

Word Count: 4.4k

Tags: daddy issues, virgin reader, sexual innuendos, swearing, betrayal, alcohol

A/N: yea this is basically my take on that old fanfic meme of "you" getting sold to [insert random boy band/ celebrity here] except it's with Negan. It was going to be one long fic but I decided to break it up! Part 2 should be up next week and it will be filled to the brim with smut lmao

Sniffling. Panting. Choked sobs. And footsteps, slowly pacing up and down in front of you.

You focus on the sounds, your head hanging low and eyes glued to the floor. The last thing you saw was the man’s bat cracking down and then you looked away. 

Negan. A name you won’t be forgetting anytime soon. A man who had a grand announcement of who he was before ever making an appearance, as if he was headlining a festival.

You don’t know why these people chose your small group to torment or why they think your group would be able to find supplies for them. Not that any of that matters now.

To your side, you hear your father’s haggard breath. You could tell he kept his eyes up and watched what happened with the bat, the small grunts and sharp inhales of air being enough of an indicator.

“Phew! Now that’s what I call a workout,” the man continues to pace up and down, the shadow of his bat swinging by his side coming into your peripheral “I mean, goddamn! He was not going down easy, huh? Like cracking a goddamn walnut!”

Despite your group having no real leader, your father happened to be a talker– someone who truly believed they could talk their way out of any predicament. Unfortunately that meant he somehow became the unofficial spokesperson for your group. Boots stop in your sight, facing towards your father. 

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Blood runs off the tip of the bat, pooling on the ground. Your eyes drift over to it, watching the blood mix with the dirt.

All things considered, you feel lucky. The man Negan decided to swing at was someone you hardly knew. The poor guy was the latest addition to your group, someone who was only around for a couple of weeks before now. You still have your family, both of blood and those you consider family from how long you’ve all been travelling together.

“Well, I think we’ve done our fair fucking share,” Negan booms “got rid of another mouth you had to feed and we’re only taking half of your shit! Ain’t that good? I think that’s pretty damn good”.

He waits for your father to agree.

“It– … it’s good,” your father concedes, taking an audible gulp “T-thank you”.

Negan’s boots don’t move, letting everyone know that he’s not satisfied just yet. He simply watches the sniffling mess that is your father as he waits for more. Moments pass. Others cry. You hear Negan’s leather jacket groan as he shrugs.

“… That’s it?” he asks, a strange mixture of amusement and threat in his voice “I mean, shit, I should’ve gotten a thank you the second I said I’d only bash in one of your skulls! I think we’re past thank you’s”.

You keep your head down, almost too scared to move in case it draws his attention on to you next. 

“I gotta say, I kinda thought you’d have something better for me,” Negan sighs, scratching at his stubble “I’ve done a lot for you and your people and hell, I just got here! You don’t want to seem ungrateful, right? You’re not some ungrateful fuck who just thinks I’m doing all this shit out of the kindness of my heart, right?”.

Your father stutters, trying to get out words without knowing what to even say. Speaking to Negan is like defusing a bomb, constantly fearing you’ll say the wrong thing and set him off.

Slowly, you tilt your head to the side, trying to see your father. A part of you is terrified that this will be the last time you’ll ever see him breathing.

He sputters, a mixture of snot and spit glistening on his face. Even at the start of the apocalypse, he never looked as bad as this. Swallowing hard, you look back to the ground. Some of the others are still crying. A part of you wishes you could cry too but the tears refuse to come. Maybe it’s because you didn’t know the dead man well or maybe at this point, you’re simply numb to the horrors.

You retreat back to what you’re good at. Staying still and staring at the dirt in front of you, waiting for this nightmare to be over. You listen to your father continue to sputter on, not able to form a single word as he shifts in his spot, shakily moving some limbs. 

You don’t look up to see what exactly your father is doing, nor do you look up when Negan begins to walk again, his footsteps getting louder as he goes to pass you.

But he doesn’t.

Negan stops closeby. You’re not sure where precisely, once again not wanting to move your head. 

The noise that does catch your attention is the whooshing sound of his bat that’s too close for comfort. Acting on instincts, you immediately jerk your head backwards in the hopes of avoiding the impending smash. You look up, knowing there’s no point in acting like a statue if Negan’s already decided you’re next.

With wild eyes, you gawk at Negan. The sight you’re met with is worse than a quick crack against your temple. 

Lucille is right there, pointing directly at you. There’s a smile on Negan’s face but it’s different than before. That smile was cruel. This one is full of mischief.

“This one?” Negan asks, his eyes boring into you “Holy fucking shit, Christmas has come early! And I think I might too”.

You blink, unsure what he’s saying to you or why. Your mouth falls open, confusion lining your face before the sudden realisation hits. 

Negan may be looking at you, but he’s not talking to you. As if your body has the answer before your brain does, your head turns in the direction of your father. 

Refusing to look you in the eye, your father’s outstretched arm points directly at you. You don’t need to hear him say it to know what he means. Somehow, your trembling body stills at the raw betrayal. A cocktail of pain brews in your gut, one of hurt and confusion bubbling inside of you.

“No,” your voice comes out surprisingly strong as you shake your head “no, not me!”.

Despite Negan being in charge here, you don’t even address him. Something shifts within you. It’s not the sadness you would usually associate with something like this. Instead it’s a catalyst for something more fierce, a burning of rage that’s been building for too long.  

Negan ignores your words, too busy gloating now. “Well, damn! I thought you would’ve just got me a ‘Thank You basket’, not your daughter! Because I am assuming that’s your kid, right?” he continues to talk “well, shit, suppose I shouldn’t be calling her a kid actually. How old are you?”.

Despite this question being directed at you, you continue to ignore Negan. “No, you can’t do this to me! What— what the fuck is wrong with you?” your voice builds, eyes burning into your father “Answer me!”.

Whether he won’t look at you out of shame or denial at what he has done, you’re unsure. The only thing that is apparent is your father won’t be dignifying you with a response.

Turning on his heels, Negan signals for some of his men. “Put her in the truck” he says it so casually, the order barely registers with you.

The dirt crunches under the feet of more men but you’re not done. You want answers. “Are you fucking kidding me?” You argue at your father, your throat tightening “what the fuck have I done?! Why?”.

Nothing. Not even a tear. The only thing your father does is drop his arm back down by his side. 

“After everything?! Y-you’re just going to give me up?” Your voice raises, wanting any kind of acknowledgement.

Two men approach you, one grabbing your arm to hoist you up off your feet. In an flash, you kick out, getting one of them in the shin.

“Hey!” Negan suddenly loses his excitement, his voice a bark of authority as he points the bloodied Lucille at you “None of that shit or else it’s Daddy that’ll get it next”.

You scoff at his attempt to threaten you. If you’re being taken then all hope is lost. What’s the point in begging now? Especially for a man who just sold you down the river to hell. 

“Like I give a shit, dickhead” you spit out, each one of Negan’s henchmen taking an arm each as they haul you to an awaiting van. 

It’s jarring how fast Negan can change. Switching from a psychopath to a charming man within a matter of seconds, over and over again. He smiles widely as you get dragged off. 

“Wow!” Negan turns his attention back to your father “now I can see why’d you want to get rid of her as fast as possible! She’s got a way with words, that’s for sure”.

You wonder if Negan will be able to pry a reaction out of your father that you could not. But before you can see if he does, you're thrown into the back of the van and shut out from seeing the rest…

———————————————————

That all happened almost two weeks ago. It’s surprising to think you’ve been stuck in his goddamn parlour from hell for that long already. Thankfully, Negan has let you be, having some sense of how traumatic it’s been for you.

The second you arrived at the Sanctuary and got hauled out of the van, Negan said some words to his men and you were ushered off. He never even looked in your direction. You weren’t sure if you were grateful or annoyed that after everything, he wouldn’t even glance at you. 

After that, you were dressed up like a doll and sent in here with the rest of the wives. They don’t speak to you much, though you can’t blame them.

You’ve been trying to process how exactly you got here, what led up to this and how quickly your father not only folded, but decided to offer you up as the sacrificial lamb. 

With nothing else to do in the wives parlour, you spend most of your days thinking back, wondering when exactly did your own father stop caring about you.

Negan visits at least once a day, coming in to crack a few jokes and try his luck with a few of the women. Usually one will always leave with him. He has yet to approach you. Sometimes Negan goes quiet and lets an unusual lull of silence take place. That’s when you know he’s looking at you, waiting for you to meet his gaze so he can finally approach.

You never do though, simply doing what you did when you first met him and keeping your head down.

It seems to do the trick and he steers clear of you. Whether it’s because he feels sorry for you or he’s waiting for the right moment to strike, you can’t tell.

Every day is the same. Wake up, put on a godawful dress, walk down to the parlour with the rest of the wives and stay there until it’s time for bed. Breakfast, lunch and dinner are all sent up to you. Drinks are in the bar in the corner of the room too and so there’s no need for anyone to leave.

There are only three ways to leave the parlour during the day. Either you leave with Negan, everyone is summoned to the open area downstairs to watch someone get ironed or, your personal favourite, a bathroom break.

Despite how lavish they try to make the parlour seem, it’s still a room in an old factory. There are no private toilets attached to each room. Hell, they’re lucky there are bathrooms found on every level. From what you’ve heard so far, it sounds like Negan is the only one that has his own en-suite. Surprise, surprise.

The bathroom breaks are your favorite part of the day. It’s bliss. For the first few days, you were escorted from the parlour down the hall to the bathroom but now, the Saviors on guard just let you go do your business. It’s the only time all day you truly get to be alone. No one watches you and it’s the one place you don’t have to worry about Negan barging in.

It’s the one room that provides you with the tiniest bit of reprieve you yearn for. Most of the time you just stand there, eyes closed as you lean against the sink and take a deep breath. For a few precious moments, you don’t have to think about Negan or the betrayal of your father. And that’s exactly what you need now, that fleeting sense of relief even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Mumbling that you need to use the bathroom to the guards outside the parlour door, they move aside. It’s the only time they ever do, making you feel like you have a sliver of control.

The corridor is full of closed doors, many you’re not sure what is behind it or if each room is even used. Sometimes you wonder which one leads to Negan’s bedroom, just so you know which one to avoid.

Your shoes are the only noise in the corridor, clicking along. Usually the bathroom door is always open, but today it mirrors every other door. As you get closer, you hear the quiet sobs of Amber, who’s locked herself inside for a quick crying fit.

You sigh, leaning up against the wall and waiting patiently. This is fine. This just means you get more time away from the others. Shutting your eyes, you allow yourself to zone out for a few moments… until you hear it. 

The rhythmic, high pitched sound. The familiar tone, like a faint memory just out of reach. Your senses sharpen as the realization hits you, your eyes shooting open.

It’s him. 

Leaning with your back flush against the wall, as if that’ll make you invisible, you tap on the bathroom door.

“Amber?” You whisper, tapping again “Amber, I really need to go”. 

The muffled sound of shifting inside the bathroom makes you hold your breath, but no response comes. Desperate, you try the handle. 

Locked.

“Amber, come on!” you mutter under your breath, head turning from the door to the dim corridor,  waiting for him to appear.

There’s a beat of silence, then at the other end of the corridor, you see his silhouette. Broad yet lanky. Looming yet relaxed. Your eyes are drawn to the bat, hanging at his side. It looks prickly this far away, as if he’s holding a damn cactus and not a killer bat. 

You freeze, eyes never leaving the silhouette. As much as you don’t want your gaze to draw him closer, you don’t want to take your eyes off of him either. Taking your eyes off Negan is asking for trouble.

“Well, look who it is!”.

Shit. Staying against the wall, you say nothing in response. Negan moves closer, eyes watching you with amusement. Wagging a finger at you, he pretends to look suspicious “Now I sure as shit don’t think you’re supposed to be out here, unless you’re finally doing an escape attempt?”.

He lets the question hang as he saddles up beside you and leans against the wall. He keeps his eyebrows raised, as if he’s waiting for you to entertain his question with an actual answer.

Silence.

Negan nods “Hm… quiet today… per usual”.

The door beside you finally opens and a sniveling Amber exits. You note the sound of a toilet flush not greeting your ears. Maybe the bathroom isn’t just your place of solace.

Negan ignores how the young blonde tries to hide her red rimmed eyes. With one quick look at Negan, she lowers her head and hurriedly goes back down the corridor. 

Watching her go, you take a step towards the bathroom before she stops you. Lucille. Negan side steps you and his outstretched arm juts Lucille out until the top of her touches the wall. It acts as a barrier between you and the open door, making you stop again.

“How’s about a treat?” He asks “Instead of doing your business in that shithole, how’s about you come into my room, let you do your business on a real throne”. He snickers at his own joke.

It’s not a suggestion. It’s an order and you know it. Reluctantly, you meet his gaze. Negan’s eyes are sharp, tracking your every second and reading each minute reaction. The way his smirk flickers for just a second tells you all you need to know. He’s enjoying the control he has here, like always.

Keeping your voice steady, you finally speak. “You think you’re funny?” The words come out lower than you intend but you can’t help it.

Negan’s smirk widens, a slow, deliberate movement that’s more of a warning than anything else. “I don’t just think I’m funny, sweetheart,” he purrs, his voice a smooth rasp now “I know I am”.

He taps the bat against the wall and it echoes down the barren hallway like a clock counting down. “So? What’s it gonna be? You gonna make me wait, or are you gonna follow the damn order?” his tone hardens slightly.

You take a breath, your eyes flicking from Lucille to his face. Lowering your head, you turn away from the bathroom. 

Negan watches you in silence as you turn away, his gaze heavy but unreadable. The moment he turns to walk down the corridor, you silently fall into step behind him. This is the most vulnerable you’ve seen Negan. Back turned to you, unable to defend himself for the second it would take him to turn. And yet he knows you won’t attack. That you can’t.

When you reach his door, he simply opens it with a casual twist of his wrist, stepping inside first and then holding the door for you with a slight gesture. “After you,” he says, his voice thick with amusement.

You step inside. It’s decorated sparsely, but with an odd sense of comfort—like it’s a place someone actually lives in. 

A large bed sits in the middle against one of the walls, with a few scattered papers and books near a small table. He closes the door behind you and leans against it, still watching you with that unreadable smile. 

“Make yourself at home,” Negan drawls “bathroom’s that way.” He points to a door on the far side of the room.

It’s hard to ignore the fact that every inch of the space feels like it’s his, even the air you breathe. You make your way to the bathroom, his eyes following you the whole way. 

You step into the bathroom, the door clicking shut behind you with an unsettling finality. The walls are a calm beige and the light is surprisingly warm and comforting. Not that it helps with your situation. Your heart is already thundering in your chest, blood rushing in your ears, drowning out everything except the cold realization that you’re stuck here. With him.

He has you exactly where he wants you. Alone with him. No other wives to distract him or butt in and inadvertently save you from engaging with him. Now it’s just you, stuck in his private quarters, where no one will help.

You scan the small space, looking for anything that could help you escape. The sink is just a sink, the mirror above it large and reflecting the usual sight of you in a dress. The shower is large but useless to you now and the small, claw-footed tub looks like it’s seen better days.

Your eyes dart around the room, desperate. There’s no way out. Nothing to use as a weapon. Just a toilet brush although you’re not sure if you could stomach the humiliation of trying to bat off Lucille with that.

You take a few steadying breaths, forcing your thoughts into some semblance of order. Your eyes flick to the window. It’s a small, high-up one that’s barely big enough for a rat, let alone a person to squeeze through. And that’s not even considering how high up you are. No good.

Turning on the taps you let the water run, hoping it’ll make him think you’re just doing the usual. Taking some of the water you splash it on your face and the back of your neck. All of this is too much. 

How has your only time for peace turned into such a nightmare?

You use one of his fluffy hand towels to dry your face, patting your skin gently. 

And who the hell has white fluffy towels in the apocalypse?

You huff, turning off the taps. You’re met with silence, the taps not even offering an extra drip of water. The quiet presses in on you like a weight, thick and suffocating. At first, you think it’s just the quiet of the bathroom, but then you realize… there’s no sound of movement, no low hum of Negan’s voice, no casual whistling or muttered remarks.

Nothing.

Your heart skips a beat, hopeful that the situation isn’t as dire as you believed. You strain your ears, listening hard, but the only sound you can hear is your own shallow breathing and the distant buzz of the light above you. 

Has he left? The thought is both a relief and a curse. If he’s gone, then maybe, you have a shot at sneaking out of here and pretending none of this ever happened. You pause with your hand on the door handle, knuckles white from the grip. Holding your breath, you dare to listen again, straining against the silence, but still nothing.

Your instincts scream at you to get moving but your body stays frozen, unsure. Slowly, you turn the handle and step out. He’s not by the bed, or sitting on one of the couches. A part of you expected him to be sprawled out on the bed, waiting for you to take on your wively duty but thankfully, you seem to have been spared today. 

Silently thanking what or whoever is looking out for you, you start to take quick steps towards the exit. The coincidence that Negan has been called out or distracted just as he’s finally gotten you alone is big but not one you want to sit around and ponder. Darting around the bed, you’re just about to pass the couches when he speaks. 

“Bottled in 2006,” he reads the label of a bottle “well, shit, doesn’t that sound like a lifetime ago?”. As if to purposefully hide out of sight, Negan stands in the corner of the room, hovering by a small wagon of bottles. All alcoholic, you assume no less. You stop dead in your tracks and as if to approve, Negan gives you the ghost of a smirk.

As much as you want to ignore him and go, doubt clouds your mind. Is there one of his Saviors waiting outside, guarding the door? Does he want you to run?

“You a drinker, sweetheart?” he asks, despite already having two glasses out. You linger, not wanting to sit down and accept this predicament but not wanting to run into a barrage of gruff Saviors outside this room. 

Bringing both drinks over to his couches, one filled more than the other, Negan sits “Don’t matter anyways, why don’t you give this a try”. He sets the lesser one on the coffee table, waiting for you.

He waits a beat before ordering “Sit”.

Looking at the drink, you weigh up your options. Negan simply sits there, sipping his own drink. It’s as if he’s waiting for you to run, easily giving him a reason to treat you with a harsher hand. Whether that would entail you “working for points” like most of the others here or getting sent to the cells you’ve heard whispers about, you don’t know.

Swallowing your nerves, you force your legs to move. One step. Another. Your fingers brush the edge of the couch as you sit opposite him. 

You didn’t think it was possible for someone to annoy you so much. You hate him. Hate the way he sits there, casually sipping his drink as if you’re at some sort of fucked-up cocktail party. Hate the way he knows this is the last thing you want. The way he watches you. The constant smirking or grinning as if he’s a friend.

You look at the drink, fingers itching to throw it. Smash it against the wall and see it shatter against his belongings, staining it all. The temptation is there. But so is the fear of the consequences.

You stare at the drink in front of you, the amber liquid gleaming like some cruel invitation. It’s not just alcohol; it’s a test. A way for Negan to see if you’ll obey. A way for him to claim another piece of you.

Your hand trembles, just a fraction, but you catch it before it gives you away. You’re not afraid. Not yet. But the tension in your chest tells a different story.

Every muscle is tight, coiled, like you’re waiting to sprint or snap. You can’t decide if you should laugh or scream at the absurdity of it all. Here you are, sitting in a goddamn room with a psychopath, drinking his damn poison because—what? Because you’re scared of what happens if you don’t?

You pick up the glass, your fingers gripping it tightly. The crystal feels cold. You bring it to your lips, not daring to look at him. If you do, you’ll lose the last shred of whatever control you have left.

The liquid slides down your throat—smooth and sweet—but it leaves a trail of fire behind it. It burns like it’s alive, crawling through your veins to mark you.

Negan lets out a satisfied hum, having another sip of his own drink. “You’ve been here for how many weeks now?” he asks, well aware you won’t answer. When you prove him right, he smiles and gives you a nod “And you’re still hellbent on the silent treatment, huh?”.

Leaning forward, he balances some weight on Lucille, her spiky end sticking into the rug beneath him. “Well, sweetheart, I think it’s about time we have a chat”.

Like a monk sworn to their oath, you stay quiet. But you know the silent treatment can’t last long. And you know you’ll have to put up with this supposed chat. With none of the other wives or Saviors around to distract Negan, you’re left to fend for yourself.

There is, of course, one more thing you know. You’re fucked.

PART 2 FOUND HERE

[cece693]

I really loved the silent but angry reader with hannigram!! would it be possible to request a part 2? Maybe something where the reader finally snaps and like- beats someone up or something? idk lol Thank you for your time and your writing!

On The Tip of Your Tongue Pt. 2

pairing: hannigram x male reader tags: reader doesn't care about what's said about him but when it comes to his lovers, phew, just phew, guard dog, altercation, hannigram finding it unnecessary but sweet, you showing people they're wrong

A week after that peaceful evening at Hannibal's home, you found yourself back in the maze of FBI corridors—late at night, subdued fluorescent lights buzzing overhead. It should have been a routine debrief, but Agent Lange had a knack for turning even mundane situations into confrontations. His favorite pastime: picking at your silence.

By now, you’d grown skilled at blocking his barbed comments about you—he never seemed worth the trouble. But the moment he made Hannibal or Will the targets, every fiber in your body tensed like a coiled spring, ready to snap.

The trouble started in the break room, of all places. You were rinsing out a coffee mug while Will stood nearby, silently reading through case files. Hannibal was down the hall, finishing an impromptu consultation. Agent Lange sidled in, a smug half-smile plastered on his face. He began with a low mutter, obviously wanting you to overhear. “Doesn’t say much, does he?” Lange said to no one in particular, though his eyes never left you. “Probably thinks he’s too good for the rest of us.”

Will glanced up, brow furrowing. “Cut it out, Lange,” he warned, voice quiet but firm.

Lange scoffed. “Oh, look, Graham is here to defend his little buddy.” He rolled his eyes in mock exasperation, then smirked. “What, you guys have some kind of arrangement with that doctor of yours? Must be real cozy, you three. Freak show if you ask me—Doctor Lecter with his fancy dinners and you, Graham, with your messed-up head. Not sure what he—” Lange shot you an assessing look “—sees in a pair of psychos.”

Your grip on the mug tightened until your knuckles turned white. You could handle insults directed at you alone. But calling Hannibal a freak—calling Will messed up—that was a line no one should ever cross.

Will started to step forward, frustration rippling in the set of his jaw. “I’m warning you, Lange—”

But Lange just kept on. “Warner from Accounting told me the three of you even share a place sometimes,” he sneered, letting out a low, mocking laugh. “That’s a real nice arrangement. Guess all the weirdos have to stick together, huh?”

In that moment, your heart pounded so loudly in your ears that you barely registered Will reaching for your arm or Hannibal appearing in the doorway. All you knew was that Lange had just gone after the two people you loved most, spat insults that made your blood boil. Before Will could hold you back, you lunged at Lange, slamming him against the countertop before grabbing him by the collar.

“Don't you ever talk about them like that,” you growled, voice trembling with fury.

Lange’s hand shot up to shove you away. Big mistake. You seized his wrist, twisting just enough to yank him off balance. Then your fist crashed into his jaw, the impact ringing through your arm. Lange staggered, barely staying on his feet. There was a collective gasp from the few agents who’d been unlucky enough to witness the altercation. Hannibal’s calm, cool voice cut through the air—firm, yet oddly soothing. “(Y/N). Enough.”

But Lange, spitting blood from a split lip, couldn’t let it go. “They’re both messed up in the head,” he snarled, glaring at you. “They deserve—” You lost all sense of caution. With a furious snarl, you shoved Lange so hard he stumbled into the table, sending files and coffee cups flying. He tried swinging at you, but you easily dodged, landing a swift, punishing blow to his ribs.

Will’s arms locked around your torso, hauling you backward. “(Y/N), stop!” he ordered, breath tight.

Still seething, you struggled for a second, your gaze locked on Lange’s crumpled form. Hannibal stepped in front of Lange, effectively blocking him from view, placing himself between you both. For a heartbeat, you saw a flash of something like approval in Hannibal’s eyes—gone in an instant, replaced by measured concern.

A tense hush fell over the break room. Lange groaned, pressing a hand to his side, shooting you a hateful glare. Will released you slowly, scanning your face for any sign of lingering rage. “Hey,” he whispered, “breathe.”

You inhaled shakily, your fury still smoldering beneath the surface. “He insulted you,” you spat, voice hoarse. You glared over Will’s shoulder toward Lange. “Both of you. He had no right.”

Hannibal stepped forward, placing a hand on your shoulder. You could feel the gentle pressure, calming like a steady pulse. “That’s quite enough for tonight,” he said in that refined, even tone. Then, turning a cold gaze on Lange, he added softly, “You would do well to keep further opinions to yourself.”

Lange, nursing his bruised jaw, spat out an obscenity but didn’t press his luck. One look at Will, still standing protectively in front of you, made him think twice. He shoved a chair aside and stumbled out of the room, muttering threats about filing a report.

The ride back to Hannibal’s home was drowned in thick, static tension. You sat in the back seat, staring out the window with your jaw tight, chest still heaving from residual anger. Will occupied the passenger seat, arms folded, gaze flicking every so often to the rearview mirror where Hannibal’s impassive face reflected back. No one spoke a word. The hum of the engine and the occasional hiss of tires on wet pavement were the only sounds.

By the time the car pulled up to the stately brick home, the air felt electric. Hannibal parked with his usual precision, and you exited wordlessly, your lovers flanking you on either side. You stepped into the foyer, your breath still shallow from the surge of adrenaline. Hannibal immediately ushered you toward the kitchen with gentle but insistent pressure on your lower back.

“Sit,” he instructed, voice low and calm in that familiar, cultured way. “Let me see your hands.”

Will leaned against the marble island, arms crossed, watching as Hannibal carefully took hold of your bruised knuckles. You winced when he turned on the faucet, letting cool water run across torn skin. For a moment, Hannibal focused solely on rinsing away dried blood. Once satisfied, he turned off the tap and reached for antiseptic and gauze. His eyebrows knit in that slight, discerning frown he wore when studying a patient—or a lover, in need of care.

“You truly did a number on him,” Will commented quietly, pushing off the counter. He walked over, eyes flicking between your injured hands and your tense expression. “Not that he didn’t deserve it.”

You let out a slow, shaky breath, finally speaking for the first time since leaving the FBI. “He insulted you,” you said, voice hoarse with lingering fury. “I could’ve handled the things he said about me. But about you two? I couldn’t just stand there.”

Will’s lips quirked into a half-smile. “We’re not exactly fragile, you know. We didn’t need you to defend us.”

Hannibal cast Will a knowing glance but addressed you. “However, that does not mean we didn’t appreciate it,” he said, carefully affixing the final piece of gauze. His eyes flicked up to yours, a subtle heat behind them. “Or find it intriguing.”

“Hot, actually,” Will added, stepping closer. The corners of his mouth lifted in a hint of a grin that bordered on playful. “Watching you lose your temper like that…seeing you go from silent to lethal in a heartbeat. I can’t pretend it wasn’t a little—” he cleared his throat, “arousing.”

You felt your face flush at Will’s admission. His candor took some of the edge off your anger, replacing it with a wave of self-conscious heat. Hannibal’s expression betrayed no surprise—if anything, a knowing gleam lit his dark eyes. He folded your freshly bandaged hand into both of his, pressing a light kiss to your wrist.

“That flash of violence,” he said quietly, “while I don’t endorse needless brutality, I do find it befitting of you. That anger in your eyes, the way you allowed for it to consume you was beautiful."

You swallowed hard, letting your gaze flick from Hannibal to Will. “But I— I nearly lost control.”

Will’s voice dropped lower, tinged with empathy and something else. “He had it coming. Besides, we would've stopped you before it really became a problem."

Despite the swirling emotions—anger, relief, lingering adrenaline—warmth spread through your chest. You exhaled the breath you’d been holding. The raw edges of your temper began to soften, replaced by a comforting sense of belonging. “Next time,” you said, voice low, “I’ll try to give you a little warning before I snap.”

Will’s mouth quirked in amusement. “Sure,” he teased. “Even if it’s just a look—anything to let us know you’re about to unleash hell, so we can pull up a chair and enjoy.”

A gentle chuckle rumbled in Hannibal’s chest. He raised your bandaged hand to his lips again, pressing a second kiss to the gauze, an oddly chivalrous gesture. “If there is a next time,” he said, his dark eyes glinting with sincerity, “we’ll be right at your side. Not because we need the defense but because we relish your fervor.”

That final declaration, spoken in Hannibal’s cultured tone, cradled in Will’s soft laugh, was enough to steal the last vestiges of your anger. You let yourself sink into the moment—the quiet acceptance, the shared heat, and the unwavering knowledge that, here, you were safe to be exactly as you were.

[gojoshooter]

Hi bestie. I was at a party and saw this shit. Can you write a scenario/hc where gojo's crush uses his glasses as a reflective surface/mirror to put on her lipstick. Just curious how you think this would play out but this is somewhat so cute to me.

annon im snatching your brain 🏃 this is hella cute

Fifty Shades Of Friendship

an. both seem to like shades—you, on his eyes and him, on your lips

It's a chilly November night, and you're sitting by the bar counters in a little end-year party by your best friend and beloved classmate of Jujutsu High. The charming party host— no other than Gojo Satoru sits beside you on one of the stools and waves towards the under classmen messing around on the dance floor. It's not too late when his eyes land on your smudged petal pink lips, probably caused by the Martini you sipped with it's brim.

He snorts, sitting up his slacked back from the counter and pointing at your lip. “Look at that y/n, who did you make out with this time?” It's some sort of default setting of his phsycology to make remarks on his crush bestfriend, that is, you, like some damned antibody.

Raising your eyebrows, your fingertips reach for your lip by instinct. “Mm?” he rests his cheek on his knuckles, giving a soft smile “Yes your lips. Who was it, Nanami?” and he receives an eyer roll “Haibara. I knew it” “Martini, ’toru”

Then you're looking around the club, trying to find a quick reflecting surface... none. Hmm, you think, as you take out a wipe along with your rosy-coral lipstick. You're still looking around, when your eyes slide to Gojo's loud chortle watching his dorky juniors. An adorable laugh, and then, oh— there it is, makshift mirror.

Holding his cheeks by your fingers, your turn the white head and watch as a tiny tiny gasp slips out of your bosom buddy “’toru, can you look here for a second?” he binks, nodding unconsciously as his vision drops lower towards your lip that you jut out so adorably. He might just put his on yours.

Phew, if it wasn't for the club's lights, Gojo's red face would've been exposed. Dragging your bar stool, you slip closer to his shades and begin fixing your makeup. He watches your soft lips through the translucent black glasses, occasionally travelling to your puppy shaped eyes.

His cheeks almost match the colour of your lipstick by the time you're done and when your attention finally penetrates the surface of his glasses, you can almost make out his glacier eyes looking back at your softer browns... oh. Butterflies, butterflies in stomach.

Your leaning back straightens comically fast. Coming out of trance, Gojo blinks and looks away rubbing his warm neck. “Woah- woah...” oh gosh, and his pitch comes out way higher than it originally is? Did that little moment effect him someway? You tuck a strand of hair behind, wondering.

“Pretty, y/n... I like it” you smile lightly at his comment, taking your drink back from the counter. And just for the virtue of conformation, you reply softly “You like it ’toru?” a small lick on the corner of your lip, while you try to conceal your uncontrollable smile. Best friends to lovers doesn't sound like a bad trope afterall... “Would you not like to ruin it again?”

There it is—got him, not even the club lights can hide cheeks that red.

masterlist !!

ps. shy gojo >>>> also like and rbs are appreciated<333

tags. @anubisisthebomb @dianagracesworld @stellagrangerreads12 @momochina-sama @xxkay15xx @ruins-posts @4sat0ruu @therealjustpeachesback

[honeyhonest]

blog etc updates

okay phew. I'm kinda burnt out today but I appreciate all of the support and kind words about my writing. for someone who posts so much I sure don't like it!!! lmao. it means a lot to me that people do, though, I hope I get to write here forever (on that note I am SO SORRY to people who follow this blog for writing, I barely ever post that) because I've had so much fun and I'm genuinely really grateful that I've gotten to know a community that I feel comfortable with. I don't have many followers here, but within the first few months of running this blog I've met people who are now like my favorite mutuals and friends. I'm looking forward to the future, hopefully one where I have more time to write. and organize this blog bc it's a chronic mess LOL

as for pomdove, I think I've decided it's time to move on. it's been causing me so much stress since decemberish and I wasn't kidding when I said it's like I'm in an abusive relationship with that blog because my cortisol hasn't been so high since 2021. some result of the unrepentant hate I get, not being able to write what I want to write, having to do my customer service voice (antithetical to my melancholic personality), guilt about not writing requests and answering asks/dms fast enough, comparing myself to other writers, my dwindling interest in the main cast, and, of course, oh my god I am not a content creator or a company Stop That

it will remain up but muted and inactive, and I will continue my ongoing series (noble bell, ad perpetuam memoriam, and the cauldron of the unborn) on ao3 in the upcoming months. because I likeys them. as of now I'm going to focus on finishing requests. this is more relevant for my followers there, so honeyhonest-only followers don't even worry. all you need to know is that I'm going to finish the tagging system soon

I'm so tired right now

open to comments, questions, and concerns about any of this

EDIT: thought I'd add that you can otherwise find me:

here (main blog) here (personal blog- please follow me there since I don't post as much on main!!!) discord is fellowhonests

[holylulusworld]

Roar & Giggle (5) - His house

Summary: He’s just the worst. Right?

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Bookstoreowner!Reader

Warnings: love-struck Bucky, fluff

Roar & Giggle masterlist

Part 4

“Alpine, no! You can’t always jump onto the couch. Not if we have guests,” you hold back a chuckle as Bucky tries to talk his cat into not lying on the couch next to you. “Punk, I’m talking to you.”

Bucky wildly gestures toward his cat, huffing as the white furball sneaks closer to you to snuggle in your side. The cat meows loudly but ignores his owner.

“It’s alright. I don’t mind having Alpine on the couch,” you assure Bucky. He seems to be a little nervous since he invited you over for dinner. “Punk, you won’t stay on the couch for dinner. I’m warning you. You’re not going to steal Y/N’s food.”

“He’s so cute,” you giggle as Alpine gets up to crawl into your lap. The cat rubs his cheek against your belly, and purrs. “Aw, and warm.” You gently stroke Alpine’s fur, smiling as he purrs in response. “His fur is so soft.”

“I brush his fur, massage him, and buy the best food for him,” Bucky states proudly. “When I found him, his fur was a mess. He was a stinking little rat and a punk. But he…,” Bucky swallows thickly, “trusted me from the beginning.”

“It was fate that you found Alpine. He’s in good hands,” you softly say. Bucky’s heart flutters and he smiles at your words. “You’re a good cat daddy and a good man. I’m sorry for acting so rude in the beginning.”

“Doll, I was a rude neighbor,” he flashes you a smile. “My friends and I were loud, and uh—you know. I never wanted to annoy you, Y/N.”

“No, no,” you shake your head. “This is on me, Bucky. You’re a nice man. I should’ve talked to you instead of judging you. I was biased and stubborn.”

He chuckles. “I think we are even, doll. You’re a good person, and I’m too. If we manage to have dinner tonight, we are good.”

“I think so too,” you grin. “So…what are we going to eat tonight? Fish maybe?” You look down at Alpine in your lap. He lifts his head and meows. “I think he’d love some fish.”

Bucky grins. “He’ll only steal the fish. Alpine is a food-stealing furball. He looks so innocently but is a dangerous thief.”

“How was the food? I tried to follow my mom’s recipe,” Bucky scoots a little closer to look at his cat in your lap. Alpine didn’t leave your side, even while you tried to eat, he slept in your lap. “He didn’t disturb you too much, right?”

“He kept me warm,” you dip your head to look at Bucky. “I didn’t have anyone around to keep me warm for a long time.”

“No one, huh?” He moves closer again, hesitating for a second before he puts his arm around you. You smile as he whispers your name. “I’ll keep you warm if you want me to. I mean…I’m warm…and…”

“Hmm…” You sleepily rest your head against his shoulder, smirking as Alpine protests loudly. He jumps off your lap and looks offended at his owner. “Do you want to keep me warm or are you feeling guilty because you were so loud.” He grunts as you tease him.

“I want to keep you warm, doll. Do you want me to keep you warm,” he looks at you, brows furrowed. You take him by surprise when you cup his cheeks with your hands. “Doll?”

“We are talking about more than keeping each other warm, right?” He nods and drops his eyes to your lips. “Phew, good. I thought I got it wrong.”

You press a soft kiss on his scruffy chin, ghosting your lips over his skin. “Doll, I…I’m a biker…and loud…and…”

“No, you’re Bucky,” you crawl into his lap and wrap your arms around his neck, “the nicest guy I ever met.”

He gasps when you press your lips to his, claiming his mouth before he can tell you he’s not the right man for you…

FIN

Tags in reblog.

[topsyturvy-turtely]

Human Urges

ALL chapters uploaded to Ao3!!!

Summary: John hated it. He utterly and truly hated it. He despised himself for it. It was going on his nerves. In fact it annoyed the fucking SHIT out of him. That stupid, always present, torturing urge to be kissed!

Gift for: @helloliriels because you deserve it.

Fandom: Sherlock (TV)

Relationship: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Words: 5,861; Chapters: 4/4; Rating: Teen and Up

Additional Tags (Selection): Fluff, Johnlock - Freeform, Crack Fic, Bisexual John, Gay Sherlock, First Kiss, First Time, Year of the Crack Fic 2022, No Smut, Kissing, Hugging, Cuddling, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Pining, Mutual Pining, Unrequited Love, Not Actually Unrequited Love, Shy John Watson, Bold John Watson, Sherlock Holmes is Bad at Feelings, John Watson is Bad at Communicating, Friends to Lovers, idiots to lovers, DO NOT COPY TO ANOTHER SITE OR APP, Sherlock Holmes is a Mess, Sherlock Holmes Has Feelings, Light Angst, Demisexual Sherlock Holmes, there is more kissing, like so much more kissing get yourself under control babes, John Watson is Perfect, Developing Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, I love these absolute morons, POV Third Person Omniscient

(phew that's a lot of tags)

~~~

Summary of Chapter 4:

Sherlock had wanted this to happen between them. But that was his problem, wasn’t it? That he had wanted it. Because not only his body and brain wanted it. But his heart too. And John… he didn’t want this. Not with his heart. He just had 'human urges'.

~~~

you can read chapter one on tumblr, too! :))

A/N: i personally really like this chapter. i hope you do too. i'm sorry it took me forever to update this story 🙄 tags under the cut!

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @a-victorian-girl @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful

[aki-bara]

Thanks to @snoelledarts for the tag. :)

RULES: Make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Here they are:

Cursed Dick Room

Drabbles & Small Ideas

First x Second

Containmentverse

Your Mother's Son

Puddle Percy

Subject 13

The Death of Our Youth

Poly-Clueless

Guiding Voice

The Eternal Girl Gang (and Other Dubious Sorts)

Malcontent (discontinued)

Nemesis Favored

Cursed Bodies

Animal Hybrid Prophecy

Promptuary Planning

Estelle's Adventures in Space and Time

Little Torao

PJO Epic Poem

Poly-extras

The Art of Control

PJO - DnD

Four Times Loved

Animus

New PoV

Hades Crossover

The Olympians

Phew. That's done. Tagging @stressedanime who started this mess. @irishskeptic and @triscribe / @triscribeaucollection because I know they have a large amount of WIPs haha.

[chicgeekgirl89]

2023 Writing Roundup

Thanks to @liminalmemories21 and @ladytessa74 for the tags!

I guess the next time I'm mad at myself for not writing more I'll just...tell myself to shut up lol. Holy heck this is a lot of fic.

January

Paper Rings- A 5+1 of Tarlos wedding planning. I adore this one.

Packing a Piece- Early days Tarlos, T.K. taking care of Carlos as his feelings grow stronger.

My Pain Fits in the Palm of Your Freezing Hand- What a labor of love, Carlos' POV during the Ice Storm arc.

February

I Get it From You- 5+1 of habits the boys have picked up from each other. So fun to write!

Will You Take What's Left of Me?- Me trying to figure out the mess of Carlos having a secret wife 🙄

Like I'm Gonna Lose You- T.K. saving Carlos' life after his abduction and the aftermath.

Glitter and Be Gay- This one is so freaking funny lol. Carlos hates glitter and he suffers because of it. T.K. is amused.

How to Say Goodbye- My last NCIS LA Densi fic. That fandom has meant the world to me and I'm sad the show is over.

March

Love is Sitting on the Bathroom Floor- T.K. has food poisoning, Carlos takes care of him, it's so sweet!

The Luck O' the Irish- I truly love how this one turned out, my little fic about Tarlos doing a class project with their child in the future and Carlos being a neurotic dad lol.

April

I Won't Say I'm in Love- Carlos falling in love with T.K., Adriana and Francesca being their best/worst selves. This one has some of the best dialogue, god they're fun.

Mothers and Sons- Andrea caring for T.K. as they wedding plan. Made myself cry with this one.

May

Shiner- Coda for 4x15, Carlos finding out about T.K.'s black eye and taking care of him.

A Helping Hand- Lololol a fic based on my real life experience with rain and smoke detectors.

June

Happy Campers- Boys camping trip with whumped Carlos is just what the summer ordered!

July

We Have Suffered Enough- 4x16 post-ep. God did they really need the Huntington's scare?!

Day Zero- T.K. struggles after being drugged by Sadie.

August

Saturday Night's All Right for Fighting- This might be the best fic of the year. Mama and Papa Reyes getting into trouble at a bar with T.K. and poor Carlos having to sort it all out is the stuff my dreams are made of.

September

Rugby King- My sweet, sweet Heartstopper boys. I was so nervous writing this fic and I'm so glad I did. Whumpy Nick and worried Charlie are such perfection and it was so fun to jump into this fandom!

October

Come Sail Away- My magnum opus for this year lol. The longest thing I've written to date and a love letter to the drama and antics of Below Deck. Also my first AU! (Technically...)

November

Tío T.K.- T.K. being a freaking badass and helping Carlos' nephew. Adriana and Francesca return. A joy from start to finish.

Phew! What a year! Thanks to everyone who has read my work this year!

Tagging @lemonlyman-dotcom, @bonheur-cafe, @carlos-in-glasses, and @thisbuildinghasfeelings!

[archivewriter1ont]

Echo and the Cadet Batch Chapter 17: How To Babysit Aboard a Warship (Part Two) Is Out!

art by @littletroggo

PHEW! Due to a lot going on this week, I wrote 4k+ of this 5k word chapter TODAY. (Thank goodness for a lunch break and a writing app on my phone for lulls at work!) There might be some typos due to the rush but I'm so excited I got it posted on time...enjoy!

Summary:

(Cont'd) Time moves differently in the Negotiator's current time zone, so the 501st and the 212th are still trying to a) keep the cadets as much a secret as possible and b) manage to keep them safe aboard a warship. After fighting alongside them as adults and adjusting to their crazy, Rex hopes that settling the baby batchers down for dinner and bedtime will go smoothly. It does not.

SNEAK PEEK: ⬇️

The worries over sugar-hyped cadets had been mostly in vain. After eating, all four boys began experiencing the results of the dangerous combination of full bellies and exhaustion from a full day of fun, time travel, and exploring – pure, unavoidable sleepiness.

It started with Wrecker. Echo had told Rex about the biggest 99’s reaction to sugar, but he was pretty sure the captain hadn’t believed him. Then he saw Wrecker slide off the bench as soon as the dinner trays were cleared, look around with slow-blinking eyes, and yawn. 

The captain stared in surprise as the biggest cadet bypassed Helix’s offer of more sugary treats to join Hunter and Hardcase, who were flicking through pictures on a datapad on a nearby bunk. Hunter was curled up beneath his soft blanket and hardly seemed to notice when his bigger, younger brother climbed up beside him, but Hardcase grinned and beamed at Rex and Echo.

“That was fast,” Rex remarked. 

“Super fast,” Ace agreed. The 212th pilot was standing with the captain and the cybernetic ARC, his thumbs hooked casually into his belt and smirking at a scowling Boil as the other man huffed his way back out of the barracks. From what Echo could gather, the other gold-toned trooper had lost the rock-paper-scissors that decided who was going to take the trays back to the mess hall.

Echo chuckled and shook his head as Tech blinked sleepily at the chessboard. The cadet was trying so hard to stay awake that he didn’t even notice how hard Waxer, his current opponent, was trying not to laugh. “I told you so. Sugar only works on them when it’s paired with caffeine.” The cyborg shot a censoring look at Ace. “Which I don’t think anyone was dumb enough to try giving them a second time.”

Ace held up his hands. “All I did was ask!”

“Ask what?” Rex raised an eyebrow. 

“If they could have caf,” Echo answered flatly. “Full-bore, 212th-strength caf.”

Rex’s wide eyes were genuine. “I thought we were trying to keep them quiet, not give them all heart attacks.”

(Cont'd on Ao3)

TAGLIST: @leapingbadger, @badbatchposts, @kybercrystals94, @maybe-some-words, @moonsstarsandscience, @littletroggo, @spinoqueenwrites,

Let me know if you want to be added to the tag list! ❤️❤️

[andrewkun]

Sometimes love doesn't really go the way you intend, as it hurts and puts you down. But giving up isn't really a great solution, even if nothing works.

Hiii, I wrote this new story and I put it on ao3, but I wanted to post it here too! ^^ enjoy ~

Characters that appear in this story:

• You/the reader

• Arashi Narukami

(The other characters that are mentioned in the story besides you and Arashi will not be tagged due to it being only about your relationship with her, therefore any other character is just there to help in the story in some way.)

- Trigger warnings, please don't hesitate to click out if you get uncomfortable -

“Oh no no no no... Why is this happening?...” They whined softly and quietly to themselves as they looked at the mess they’ve made in the toilet, as a few lavender petals were hanging from the corner of their mouth and around their clothes. “Oh god, I really hate this! Why did this have to happen here... especially with blood.... Oh gosh, I really hope no one comes in here now...” They quickly rushed to flush the toilet and wash their hands and throw away the petals. 

They stare into the mirror, seeing their slightly pale face. What was supposed to be a little hangover with their best friend - and crush - seems to turn again into fake calling sick that they can’t come out to be with her. It all seemed to calm down a few weeks ago, no more coughing petals too often. But lately, it seemed to start again once she announced she has gotten a partner. But blood? Sure... It did say you cough petals of flowers and blood but why was it happening with it in this moment while the two of them were shopping together early in the morning in the mall? This is bad. 

At some point they must come out of there, otherwise she will worry and come after them and they cannot let her see them in this state! 

They fixed themself and washed their mouth, then got out of the bathroom; they walked to where she was waiting. 

   -------- 

“____-chan, there you are!” She said with a bright smile seeing you finally come out of the bathroom. “Are you okay? You were quite a while in there...” She soon gives you that cute, worried face of hers.  

“Oh- Please don’t worry, I’m fine! I was just uhm... I was kind of practicing my singing skills! Yea- The bathroom has great acoustics, and there wasn’t really anyone to disturb so...” You quickly find a lie as you try to sound as convincing as possible. 

She looked at you with a raising eyebrow, almost not really believing you; she soon sighed and shrugged it off, deciding to believe you 

“Alright if you say so~ Now come on! Let's go, I really want to catch great offers! ~” She giggled softly and dragged you around the mall. 

. 

. 

.

After a while of shopping – exactly 3 hours – you two are finally sitting down for a drink and something to eat. You’ve been trying and, successfully, didn’t need to cough blood. At least for a while... You still coughed up some petals you were able to hide from her. 

“Phew~ That was a fun shopping trip! We should do that more often...” She smiled softly at you, as you’re sitting down at a terrace at a coffee shop. Maybe it was fun for her, as she pretty much made you carry all her bags, but at least you spend time with her.  

“I agree! ~ I’m sorry I kept turning you off, I’ve just been through a lot that I don’t even know how to describe...” You sighed softly and looked away, ashamed you’ve been neglecting your friendship with her so suddenly.  

“Oh, It’s alright! I've been quite busy myself too with my new partner, so I can understand. I just really hope that you'll be fine and you're going to get better from whatever you're going through” She smiled at you, with that so sweet smile of hers that just makes you fall in love with her more. 

You nodded as you smiled back at her. Suddenly, you got that urge to cough and throw up, bad thing. You stood up and excused yourself as you quickly hurried to go to the restroom. You quickly went in and checked if there's anyone in there. Gladly there wasn't anyone, as it was still early in the morning, as you went to one of the toilet stalls and threw up. God knows how much you stayed in there, as you finally felt a little bit lighter. You looked at the mess made, as it seems that it was WAY more so than last time it happened. You quickly flushed the toilet as you went to one of the tubs to wash your mouth. You panicked as you kept washing your mouth as you can't help but soon break down in tears, your makeup now getting ruined. You looked up in the mirror, looking at the mess you are as you panicked way more.  

“No, no, no! Why’s this happening... Finally, when I felt like I could hang out with her again, this had to happen...” You continue to cry to yourself; you soon snap out of it and fix yourself. You cannot stay outside any longer, you need to go home. Yet you can't help but feel guilty and ashamed that you're leaving so soon, after all those weeks that you faked sick so she wouldn't see you in such a condition, it seems like you must do it again. Pathetic.  

You sighed, and once you fixed yourself, you walked back to where she was.  

“Hey um... Naru-chan... I'm really sorry but I don't feel so well...” You mumbled softly as you avoided eye contact. 

Once hearing you say that and seeing you being quite pale, she panicked and stood up and approached you. 

“Oh my, are you okay?! Should I call an ambulance?” She squeaked, being really worried for you. 

You shook your head no, trying to reassure her. 

“No, no, I'm fine. I'm fine. I promise I'll be fine... Please don't worry. I'm really sorry that I have to go so soon tho, after all it's been a while since we hanged out again and...” You mumbled, but were quickly dismissed by her worry 

“No, you're not fine, look at you! Please... let me help you... You don't have to be alone in this, please” She caresses your cheek as she gives you those cute pleading eyes of hers. She is REALLY worried about you. You sighed and leaned into her touch as you looked into her eyes.  

“Alright, you can help me. Could you drive me home? I'll be fine, I swear. I will text you in case of anything. I promise. Pinky promise” You smiled at her softly as she sighs and nods, gently dragging you to her car. 

. 

. 

She soon pulled into the driveway of your home, helping you get out and walk inside. Unexpectedly, she picked you up bride style and walked with you in her arms – oh those strong arms and warm embrace of hers~ – to your room as she soon puts you down on the bed. She brushed her hand on your forehead, as she looked at you with her worrying eyes. 

“Please do text or call me if there's anything that you need, please. Let me help you.” She whispered. 

“I will, I will... Don't worry, I will. I promise, I pinky promise, please.” You whispered back to her. 

She nods and stands up straight, smiling at you before she says bye and leaves. Although she doesn't really want to leave you alone, after all you looked quite pale back there, but she has no choice but to choose to trust you. After all she knows that you will call in case of anything.  

. 

. 

. 

You've been laying in your bed for a while now as you were trying to calm down, but you are also thinking: if this disease is about coughing and throwing up blood and flower petals because the one you love doesn't love your back then...What if you just stop loving her? And so, you thought of her and tried. You've tried and tried to force yourself to stop loving her, but it didn't quite end up well as you started to cough and get the urge to throw up. But as you tried to stand up, you couldn't as your legs seemed to give up on you, falling on the floor as you continued to cough and soon enough threw up there on your bedroom floor. You panicked, but you couldn't do anything else than just let it happen for a while – which lasted - until you calmed down for a bit. You then grab your phone as quickly as possible and dial her number. 

“____-Chan! Are you okay? What's wrong?” She said as she quickly picked up the phone. You could barely even talk as you were coughing a lot.  

“Please... come... help me please....” you managed to speak, as you kept coughing and throwing up there. 

“Don't worry, I'm on my way. Please stay on the line.” She says, as you can hear on the other line, that she quickly hurries to go to her car. Although you soon pass out from all the exhaustion and throwing up. You could hear her slightly call your name through the phone, but everything is too blurry as you soon black out. 

. 

. 

. 

Once you wake up, you find yourself in a hospital bed as everything is so white and clean. You try to sit up, but your chest hurts so much as if something is poking you through it... 

You looked around from your current position as the door opens so suddenly as you see Arashi there.  

“Oh God! Thank God you're okay!” She quickly rushes to hug you, but you whimpered because it hurts . She soon let's go once she hears you and apologizes. “____-Chan, you know i'm always here for you... Why didn't you tell me that you got the Hanahaki disease? You could always come to me if you need help in love, you know?” she softly pouted as she looks at you with worry 

“I... It’s complicated...” You mumbled softly  

“Complicated or not, there's nothing that I cannot have up my sleeve to help you with! ~ Now come on, tell me who's the lucky~~ I'm going to have a with them” she giggled and nudged you 

You looked away, feeling embarrassed to even tell her who your crush is. But you have to do it. 

“Before I tell you who it is... Do I get to live?” You look up at her. She gives you a genuine smile.  

“Well, you could either have this done by your crush liking you back in the same romantic way or you could get surgery to get the stuff growing inside your chest removed, but that means that you will never have feelings for that person ever again...” She mumbled softly and looked down at you 

“Oh... Well, I guess I'm going through surgery...” You sighed and lied back down 

“Now don't be so gloomy like that~ I'm sure I could get you together with this little crush of yours! Now tell me who it is, is it someone that I know? ~” She teased softly 

“I... well... They have a partner so...” You shrugged and sighed 

“Oh! Is... that so? I'm really sorry then... But who is it?” She gently brushed a hand on your head 

This is the moment that you've been so afraid of. Telling her who’s your crush. You took a deep breath in, even though your lungs hurt, as you looked straight into her eyes. 

“It's... you.” You mumbled 

Her face turned every shade of red as her eyes widened. She looked at you with that shocked and surprised face. She never thought that she would be your crush. She looked away and sighed 

“I'm... Really sorry.” It's all she said before she left the room. Great, you fucked it up. Now you just wish to fucking die out of the embarrassment and shame. You did it, you've drifted her away with your little crush on her. How pathetic of you. 

Soon the doctor walks in and announces that he’ll perform surgery on you to remove the little tree that has been growing inside your lungs. You sighed and nodded, what else could you do? 

. 

. 

After the surgery, you wake up and find your lungs feel lighter than before. You no longer suffer from the Hanahaki disease, but... Will she ever want to be your friend again? Probably not. You hate yourself. You wished you could have just died. Maybe you shouldn't have contacted her after all and just died there on your bedroom floor. 

You sighed. Oh, the refreshing air filling all your lungs without that little feeling that there's something inside of you that hurts. But there’s one thing that hurts... You've driven her away. You really loved her, and even if she didn't return your feelings, you were fine just being her friend. But it looks like fate wasn't with you... 

You soon heard the doorknob open; you looked and saw her, she came back. She looked at you as she gently approached and brushed her hand on your forehead.  

“Hey, how are you feeling? Any better?” She smiled softly at you.  

You look up at her with slight confusion, but you smile back. You will never have feelings for her again, but you will still love her even if you can't really feel it anymore.  

“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm a lot better actually. Thank you.” You smiled brightly at her. She smiled as brightly as possible back at you. 

“I'm sorry that I left so suddenly. I was just so frustrated with myself because I brought you into such a state...” She gently caressed your cheek. 

“It's all right. Please don't worry. I was really scared to tell you and I didn't want it to make you feel bad because you didn't do anything wrong.” You shyly look away “I'll never be able to have feelings for you again so I guess that will help... But I'll still love you even if I can’t feel it... At least in the friendship way because I really wish you still be friends with you” You smiled brightly at her 

She chuckled and nodded. 

Maybe this wasn’t meant to be, but love has a lots of shapes <3 

[firstsprinces]

Here is my final post out of three tonight for catching up on all of my tags (Phew, we made it through) Thank you @anincompletelist for tagging me in another new game that I can have some fun with! You know the anticipation I have for the bridesmaids AU, and the hitman one has jumped up on my list!

I hope you’ve all enjoyed the Christmas holidays, or just your past couple of days in general!

For those interested or who I’ve tagged below, here is the original post with the rules!

Word Generator

1. company (From “Start Again With Steady Hands” AKA the Stable Boy Alex AU)

He’s now thinking he should have been listening to the instructions given beforehand because having the animal he’s cleaning up after as his company isn’t an ideal situation. It’s difficult maneuvering around an animal that can kick him if he gets too close for comfort. His second thought, that’s inspired by his first, is he should have started with Sir Tom Cruise because there’s no way the smaller pony is making as big of a mess as the larger thoroughbreds.

2. palace - yes, I really got this word! (also From “Start Again with Steady Hands” AKA the Stable Boy Alex AU)

“You are not permitted to step a foot onto the palace grounds. And yes, that includes the palace steps,” Shaan states to him with an already knowing expression that he’d make a comment like this as Alex follows him out from the stables.

He continues on, “you obviously have complete access to the stables, the pastures, the practice tracks, and lastly your living arrangements.”

3. direction (From the WIP I’ve been sharing obsessively)

Even with all the commotion on the cobblestone walkways, Henry is still able to merge himself among the crowd of men wearing all different height tops hats and the fewer number of women, who are most likely only around at this hour to pick up some meat at the city’s butcher before its closing time. He still finds the direction of travel a bit difficult to flow with because just as he does, not everyone is paying attention to the others who are rushing to also leave the city before the sun completely sets.

4. oral - calling this one a bonus word because I wanted to give you at least three different WIPs and Alex as the devil on my shoulder would want this included (From “The Fire in Us Take Me on a Thrill Ride” AKA the Rodeo Clown Alex AU)

Alex won’t name any other names other than Liam’s because the rest of the cowboys on this tour swear by the Bible that they’re straight and Alex is just a convenience when they can’t find a decent buckle bunny to suck them off, or to ride their cocks longer than the eight seconds they’re used to when they’ve got a two ton raging bull underneath them. He’s given oral to the best of them and as he looks the “out of place” stranger in the bar, he’s certain he’ll be able to convince him that his mouth isn’t just good for small talk.

There you have it! I’ll be tagging @unstoppablemistake. I know you only have the one WIP (I’m jealous) but I feel like you’d have fun with this! See you all tomorrow for WIP Wednesday!

[jokertrap-ran]

[スタオケ] La Corda d'Oro Starlight Orchestra Main Story Chapter 2-7 Translation

*Starlight Orchestra Masterlist *Spoiler free: Translations will remain under cut *Main story tag will be #Main Starlight

Akira: Oh, (L/n)-san.

Akira: …Why do you look so curious? Ah, are you interested in what's inside this huge bag?

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

⊳ Choice: Doesn't look like you're shopping…

Akira: Are you really that curious about it? Must be nice to have such free time to meddle in the affairs of others…

⊳ Choice: Are you becoming an off-season Santa Claus?

Akira: Haha, if this bag's goin’ to be filled with presents, then the recipient might be in for the surprise of their lifetime.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Akira: Well, I s'pose it's some sort of fate that I met you here. Help me out? I'll bring ya' someplace nice.

Akira: Why are you givin' me that look?

Akira: I'm not doin’ anything bad, I swear. Welp, this bag's all yours then.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Akira: *sigh* What a huge mess again today.

Discarded plastic bottles, crushed cans, and cigarette butts were scattered all over the place.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

⊳ Choice: Do you always pick up the garbage in here?

Akira: Not always, but I'll come by whenever I feel like it. Otherwise, untended, this place will end up being nothin' but a trash pile. Akira: What? Does it come as a surprise to you that I'd do this?

⊳ Choice: Who the hell made such a mess here!?

Akira: Drunkyards and elementary school students find their way here sometimes. This is the trash pile left in their wake. Akira: It's a real mess.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Akira: But well, it's been a long time since this place went outta business.

Akira: No one's manning nor managing the place, so it's not like we can really do anythin' about it.

Akira: …Ah, be careful about the back. There are broken bottles over there.

Akira: Oh? Your movements are really swift, smooth, and effective. You're pretty apt at this yourself.

……

Akira: …Aight then. My bag's kinda full now so let's stop here for today.

Akira: We managed to clean up quite a bit. Thanks.

Akira: Want a cola?

Akira: Phew! Cola's best served ice-cold!

Akira: Hm? Why do I make the effort to maintain this place?

Akira: I wonder why.

Akira: I guess it's because there are people out there who call this place home…

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Teacher: There's no other way to go about it, is there? The grandson of the Kiryu Clan’s Boss…

Teacher: If problems were to arise due to someone like that being in our Brass Band Club… Well, it'd be too late to do anything by then; the damage would have been done.

Akira (Past Self): Are you for real…? And THAT'S why you cut-

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Akira: …

Akira: Well, it's not too shabby, right? I guess you can call it a secret hideout of sorts.

Akira: I used to come here a lot back in the day since they allowed the oddballs like me up on stage without so much as a bleet.

Akira: It used to be a pretty popular place. Although, you probably won't be able to imagine that ever happening with the state it's in right now…

⊳ Choice: I saw a video of it back in the day

Akira: Oh, really? I didn't know you watched something like that. Akira: I wonder when that video got taken though.

Kirigaya had been in the video with one other person— someone who played a Trumpet.

⊳ Choice: It's a little hard to ask…

Akira: Why are you fidgeting so much? Did you get somethin’ on your back? Akira: Who was the other guy I was performing with? Well, that's…

⊳ Choice: Who was the other person performing with you?

Akira: Other person? That's… Akira: A secret. Akira: Wouldn't life be much more interestin’ with a secret or two?

Akira: Hey, hurry and finish your cola. There's nothin’ more depressing in life than a fizzled-out can of cola.

☆ ━━━━━━━ ∘◦♬Main Starlight♬◦∘ ━━━━━━━ ☆

Previous Part: (Chapter 2-6) Next Part: (Chapter 2-8)

[narwhalandchill]

ok misc stream thoughts!!!

ANYWAY livestream over nice 30 pulls of aventurine funds for anni!!!! they didnt do anything insane but honestly it was kinda cope to expect them to, ratio for free was clearly a more of a spontaneous move and hes available throughout anniversary anyway so the "another 5*" were.... a little over the top im sorry wjkjwdjkwdjk altho i wouldnt have complained obviously. a free himeko or sth couldve been on theme for the cosmodussy event but eh cant be helped

im actually glad for the skippability of the reruns 😭😭 like i have luocha n jingliu (+ LC for latter) so by skipping acheron for now im gonna have a nice time getting aventurine and most likely his LC (2/3 of his 4* LC selection is so sad tho), love that fucker hope he gets to do proper mayhem in story too. cool death talk please dont actually die yourself for real for real tho i will be sad. like i do think its based of aventurine to pull off a stunt that appears to be what we in the business might call a certified chapter 5 komaeda moment but. ahahaha nooo dont actually die youre such a funny hat man .

(also sick boss form is sick but . bootleg FL im sorry aventurine. they hit perfection already and theyre never fucking topping the galaxy cape cyclops eye beak mask drip i swear JSWJWJDKWJKDWJK but also yes me biased? in favor of that ginger? i could never)

but it seems ill have a solid time getting aventurine and saving up for now??? since i dont think im too interested in robin or boothill either. i was kinda worried topaz' rerun would be in 2.1 for IPC antics with aventurine bc i am kinda curious abt pulling for her but now its gonna be 2.2 at the earliest so. Phew

the stream ran a bit too long lmao but like overall i tend to like the dev discussions so most of it was still neat, altho downside of dev streams is that not knowing chinese i cant just like. afk and listen on headphones and go get water or something 💀💀 and they were definitely dragging stuff out on purpose no way they werent but eh. people will live its just bideo game livestream. and like these folks do hard work on the game they can yap about what they do sometimes its only right lmao

leakers public shaming session was definitely a jumpscare but i do genuinely empathize w shaoji on that one. like. ive always been one for kit + banner leaks first and foremost and story leaks just. i dont care for them much. ive had my share of looking at them occasionally but i definitely agree with the way story leaks either by themselves or when misconstrued and misinterpreted really fucking mess with the intended experience for any given story and how that must feel like shit for the writers. like if story leaks stopped happening altogether id be perfectly content. and thats just ppl who look at story leaks on purpose cuz. im not going to even begin w how like. yes the leaks subreddits and most big leakers do spoiler warnings and keep the story stuff spoilered. but then theres literally the entire rest of the internet where shit gets spread untagged and without warnings the second they are posted anywhere at all and how that fucking ruins peoples experiences. like its 1 thing to click at a spoiler tagged post knowingly and get ur experience messed up with. but when u dont even want to see it its rly fucking bad and i v well understand condemning all story leaks (even those properly flagged) just on that basis alone. but yeah actually felt bad for him there and see where he was coming from for sure, even as a consumer of leaks

ok well that sure was a wall of text. didnt expect to write that much JWJKWJKDDWJK but ya

Anyway. biggest priority is holding strong w skipping acheron as sick as her animations are but def looking forward to her teaser and the animated short. like . even with the black swan dykery. (that was a fucking jumpscare too). i dont need her rn. despite how cool she is 😭😭

& also have to say im v happy they clarified their stance on hi3rd references like. the way theyre going abt it is absolutely how it should be going. hsr by nature is more directly linked to hi3rd like honkai is in the name but its such a dumbass idea (like some fan takes out there....) to want the stories of hsr depend on another games lore. rewarding old fans with easter eggs and tidbits is perfectly fine and im even interested in seeing where they go with acherons obvious raiden situation - especially knowing theyre not about to ruin their own story with "it was hi3rd all along!" (not that i ever rly thought theyd seriously blunder that bad lmao 💀) . so yea thats neat

i think story wise im not gonna say much of my thoughts bc unfortunately i have clicked on like. a leak or four. not the major stuff i dont think but enough that commenting on stuff w some of the things im aware of in the periphery is going to tint stuff . but im still excited to see where things go!!!

AAND OH. ACTUALLY i do have one more thing . so the multiple POV thing being actually implemented is SOOOO good im so fucking happy theyre committing to it being a thing 😭😭😭 like SO many story pitfalls can be avoided by just letting it be that TB doesnt need to be fucking everywhere a major thing happens as the centerpiece of events so we as players can see it. like it gives a way of showing different events and sides of characters in a much more natural manner its sooo good that theyre implementing it already. like this alone has me in such high hopes for the story going forward. like yea theyve branched from our POV before already and in penacony as well but expanding on it even more is 100% the correct way forward

last thing: god they did jingliu so dirty in her concert illustration. WHAT is she wearing 💀💀💀anyway yeah lesgo 2.1 its cool

i lied real last thing: siobhan . siobhan i would do anything---

[this-thing-saved-me]

CONTEXT ALERT!

Welcome to my little corner of the internet. Thanks for coming, grab a tea and get comfy.

This blog is going to be dedicated to the various forms of content that have had a hand in keeping me (reasonably) sane and alive over the past 35 years.

A couple of years ago I suffered from severe burnout that affected my mental health significantly and helped contribute to being diagnosed with PTSD after a workplace assault. Phew, and that's just the cole's notes of the journey.

I have always found myself in words, so its fitting that I dedicate some words to the specific saviours in return.

I'll be talking about moments from movies, books, songs, little things that made me stop over the years and say, "yes that, more of that."

I feel it's important to disclose that while I firmly believe that Taylor Swift's music has been eerily timely ever since I first downloaded Teardrops on my Guitar VERY LEGALLY DEFINITELY NOT ON LIMEWIRE DON'T FACT CHECK THIS. Point being, I will endeavour to at least SPACE OUT the Taylor appreciation.

I'll update this later with relevant tags as I feel out how and what I want to write about. I was originally going to make this all about music, make playlists, yaddah yaddah. But there's also too many moments from the content I've been fed over the years that I didn't want to get into too much of a niche.

Because I'm also late-diagnosed ADHD and Bipolar girl. And the road to those diagnoses were not smooth let me tell you.

But this isn't a BLOG just about mental health. Or maybe it will be. Again, feeling it out. I know from my personal branding class that it's important to know yourself and define your niche.

HOWEVER, my fun little blog (and possible YouTube channel if I feel so inclined to read passages or share clips and talk about them...we'll see) may be a rambly mess because, well hey, that's kind of my brand.

Organized chaos, overly enthusiastic, Gilmore-level talking speeds, that's me. And sharing what I'm passionate about has always made me a happy girl.

And since I can't talk customers ears off at the video store anymore (and it's been 13 years since I could. blech) here I am. Talking to the void about any number of fandoms.

(Insert gif of Jeff Blim saying "Get Excited Everyone" from The Trail to Oregon (YouTube/Team StarKid))

I am also gif girl. I'm going to try and make gifs I can't find if I can find clips for them. Because practising simple internet skills at my age is important. Or so I assume.

Anyway, inaugural ramble over and out. Looking forward to sharing the things I get excited about. <3