#please change it if you think of something better

[mrsbarnesblog]

unspoken

masterlist

summary: after a heated argument, Rafe is terrified he’s pushed you too far and that might actually lose you

word count: 1.6k

warnings: allusions to sex, hurt/comfort, insecurities, fear of loss

The room was only lightened by the bedside lamp, casting long shadows over the bed where you and Rafe lay tangled in the sheets. The air was thick with the weight of the situation. Your small argument, just a simple misunderstanding, somehow quickly took the wrong turn, and you both said things that you didn’t mean to.

You were fighting, pouring all the pent-up energy and exhaustion from work, and Rafe’s stubbornness didn’t exactly make it easier. It felt raw and vulnerable, and then suddenly it all led to you stumbling into your bedroom and ripping your clothes off each other. 

Your breathing was still heavy, and your body was still feeling hot and tingly from what had happened just a few minutes ago.

Rafe's chest rose and fell beneath the sheets, his arm thrown across his forehead as he lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. He hadn't said a word since the argument in the kitchen, which was so unusual of him. His kisses and the way he touched your body weren’t in his typical longing and teasing way; they were angry, almost desperate. Now, there was a silence hanging between you, thick and almost suffocating.

And you knew that partly it was your fault. Blinded by the rage and hurt, you said something that you would’ve never said in the right mind. Something that you should’ve never used against Rafe, knowing his sensitiveness about this topic. But the words about you better get out of his life and you not even knowing why you were still there left your mouth before you could actually process it. 

You instantly regretted it. Seeing the sudden change in his face and eyes and the way his posture became more tense, another sharp reply died on his tongue. You wanted to say something else, soften the situation, but it was too late when Rafe dealt with the problem the only way he knew—he kissed you with all he had, not allowing you to say anything else. Pulling you flush against his body, he gripped the back of your neck until you answered him with the same energy. 

Your words felt like a bucket of cold water, and he panicked, knowing that it might be it. Rafe knew that sex was not a good way to solve a problem, but it was the only thing he thought he was genuinely good at. He wanted to please you, to beg you to stay, so he led you to your bedroom, even if he felt empty inside, even he couldn’t say anything out loud because of the lump in his throat. 

Now, as the argument faded away, when it all seemed too stupid to even argue about, it was weirdly uncomfortable. Rafe’s mind was spiraling. He was too scared to even look at you, too afraid that the simple move or word might push you to get up and actually leave.

You slowly turned onto your side, as if afraid to make noise in the dead silence of your bedroom, your heart pounding with guilt and worry, unsure of where to even begin. You could feel the emotional distance between you two, and it stung. Rafe wasn’t usually the type to get vulnerable or emotional, yet you knew that he took everything too close to his heart. This time, something had shifted in him, and it left you unsettled because you were the reason. You could feel his presence next to you, but it was different.

Slowly, you reached out and laid your hand on his chest. He flinched, but then, after a moment, his hand covered yours, squeezing gently and letting out a shaky breath. He didn’t say anything, but the tension between you was palpable.

"I didn't mean it." You whispered, your voice thick with regret. "I didn’t mean to make you think that was the end. I just… I was angry, and I didn’t know how to say what I really felt. But I’m not going anywhere. I don’t want to leave you." You stopped for a second, noticing the way he clenched his jaw. “I’m so sorry.”

The words seemed to hang in the air for a beat before Rafe finally moved, turning to face you. His eyes were raw and tired, and there was a certain despair in them that made your heart ache. He reached up slowly, his hand trembling as he gently traced your cheek with his fingertips, as if trying to reassure himself that you were still here and that you weren’t slipping away from him.

“I thought… I thought you were done with me.” He murmured, his voice thick with emotions. “I thought I’d messed up too much, that I’d pushed you too far. And I couldn’t take it, I couldn't imagine not having you in my life.”

You felt his breath hitch as his thumb grazed the corner of your mouth, his gaze softening with a mix of relief and still-present fear.

“Oh, Ray…” You said gently, reaching up to cup his face, your fingers tracing the sharp line of his jaw. “I’m not going anywhere. You’ve never pushed me too far. We fight, we argue, but I don’t want to lose you. I love you. I love you too much to just walk away.”

Tears welled up in his eyes, and he blinked them away quickly, but it was too late—you saw them, the rawness in them that he was trying so hard to hide.

His chest tightened, and he exhaled shakily, a sob escaping him before he could stop it. He pulled your still naked body close, burying his face in your neck, his hands gripping you like he was afraid if he let go, you’d vanish.

“I’m sorry.” He choked out, sneaking one hand around your waist to find some comfort in the feeling of your skin on his. “For being so difficult and stubborn. I don’t know how to be better. I don’t know how to make you understand how much you mean to me.”

You held him tighter, your hand running through his hair as you soothed him. “You don’t have to be perfect, Rafe. You just have to be you. And that’s enough for me. I’m here. And I’m not going anywhere.”

For a long while, you lay there, wrapped in each other's arms. The anger had faded, replaced with something deeper, another level of trust and vulnerability that were new for your relationship. With how hard it was for Rafe to open up and express himself, it was a big step, and you wanted to do everything in your power to make him comfortable.

Rafe still wasn’t entirely sure of himself, but you could feel him beginning to trust in your words as his body relaxed against yours, his breath slowing. His hand never left your face, his thumb still tracing the curve of your cheek like he was trying to memorize every detail of you.

“I was so scared.” Rafe murmured, his voice trembling as he buried his face in the curve of your neck. “I thought I’d lost you... and you’re my entire word.”

You felt his breath warm against your skin, and your heart ached at the tremble in his voice. You pulled back just enough to meet his eyes, your fingers brushing the stray hair from his forehead. “You’re not going to lose me, Rafe.” You said softly, your voice carrying all the reassurance you could muster. “Not tonight, not ever. I promise.”

His jaw tightened, his lips pressing into a thin line like he was trying to hold something back. But then he shook his head, his blue eyes locked on yours, glassy with unshed tears. “You’re the only thing that makes sense in my life. I don’t know what I’d do if you—”

You didn’t let him finish. Leaning in, you kissed him deeply, your lips catching his in a way that was tender but still confident enough to show that what you said was true. His hand slid up to cup the back of your head, his grip firm like he needed this connection to anchor himself. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathless, your foreheads resting together as the weight of the moment settled around you.

“You’re stuck with me, Rafe Cameron. And don’t think that you can get rid of me this easily, even if you’re annoying me sometimes.”

A quiet laugh escaped him, shaky and uncertain, but it was a laugh nonetheless. “Good.” He said, his voice barely audible. “Because I don’t think I could handle it any other way.”

You smiled, your hand smoothing over his back in slow, comforting strokes as his body began to relax against yours. He exhaled a deep, shuddering breath, the tension that had gripped him loosening with every beat of your heart.

The silence that followed wasn’t heavy anymore; it was warm and allowed you to finally fully enjoy the presence of each other. Rafe pressed a soft kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering there as if savoring the moment. And as the hours stretched on, the night wrapped around you like a cocoon, and you both were too lost in each other to care about the outer world. 

For the rest of the night, words became unnecessary. Instead, there were soft kisses, quiet touches, and the unspoken promise that no matter what, everything is going to be okay. Wrapped in his arms, you felt the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek, and for the first time in what felt like forever, there was peace.

[sofiatarot]

PAC: Whispers from your future spouse’s soul: a message your heart needs to hear

Sometimes we miss someone we've never met

1->2

3->4

Group 1:

My love, I know how hard it’s been for you to keep standing tall when the world feels like it’s crumbling around you. You’ve carried so much responsibility, always striving to maintain control and stability even when chaos surrounds you. I see your strength, and I admire it more than you could ever know. But I want you to know it’s okay to let your guard down with me. You don’t have to be the one holding everything together all the time. I’ll be your steady foundation when the storms come.

You’ve been going through transformations that feel heavy, almost unbearable, but trust me when I say you’re shedding the old to make room for the new. I want you to look at these changes not as endings, but as doors opening to a brighter, more secure future for us. There’s a seed of something beautiful sprouting in the cracks of your old life—trust it. I’ll be here to nurture it with you.

I know there have been moments where you’ve felt like giving up, where your efforts seemed wasted. But don’t let those doubts consume you, my love. All the work you’ve put in, all the pain you’ve endured, it’s leading you somewhere incredible. I see you as a creator, even in moments when you feel lost. Together, we’ll turn those fragments of hope into something solid.

There’s something you’ve been avoiding, a decision or a truth you don’t want to face. I see you hesitate, afraid of what might happen if you choose. But I want you to know that you are stronger than the fear that holds you back. Whatever you decide, I’ll be beside you, ready to catch you if you fall. You don’t have to figure it all out alone.

When your world feels like it’s falling apart, remember this: sometimes destruction is necessary for rebirth. You are rising from the ashes of what once was, becoming the person you’re meant to be. And when you look around and feel lost, know that I’m here, already searching for you, ready to hold you when we finally meet.

Group 2:

My dearest, I feel your frustration and your impatience. You’re caught in a cycle that feels endless, like no matter what you do, things just won’t fall into place. But please, don’t lose hope. You’re not stuck—you’re learning. Every step, even the ones that feel like missteps, is shaping you into the person you’re meant to be. And I want you to know that I’m so proud of how hard you’re trying, even when you can’t see the results.

There’s chaos around you, and I know it feels overwhelming. It’s like you’re juggling too much at once, trying to keep everything balanced, but it’s okay to let some things go. You don’t have to do it all alone. I’m coming, and when I do, I’ll help you carry the weight. Until then, please don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re doing better than you think.

I sense that you’ve been questioning yourself, your intuition, your path. You’ve doubted your own wisdom, wondering if you’re making the right choices. But trust me when I say that deep down, you already know what’s best for you. You don’t have to second-guess yourself so much. You’re more capable than you realize.

The wheel may look like it's not turning in your favor right now, but this isn’t the end. Life isn’t a straight path; it’s full of twists and turns, and sometimes we have to lose our way to find it again. I believe in you, in your strength to keep going even when the road is unclear. And when we finally meet, I’ll remind you every day of how far you’ve come.

You’re a fighter, my love, even when you feel like you’re losing the battle. Your resilience is one of the many reasons I’m drawn to you. Hold on to that fire inside you, and don’t let the world dim it. I’m here, waiting for the day I get to tell you all this in person, and I promise, it’ll be worth the wait.

(IM SO HAPPY THIS ONE CAME OUT FOR YOU it's one of my fav songs 🤧)

Group 3:

My love, you’ve been feeling like your efforts aren’t paying off, like no matter how hard you try, it’s never enough. But I see your heart, your determination, and I want you to know that it’s not in vain. Every step you take is bringing us closer together, even if it doesn’t feel that way right now. Trust the process, because I already see the beautiful life we’re going to build together.

I know you’ve been hurt before, and it’s made you cautious, maybe even a little guarded. But you’re learning to trust again, to let go of the fears that once held you back. I see you opening up, little by little, and it’s one of the most beautiful things about you. When we meet, I’ll make sure you never have to question my loyalty or my love.

You’ve been moving so quickly, chasing your dreams, your goals, and sometimes forgetting to take a moment to breathe. I admire your drive, but I want you to remember that it’s okay to slow down. Life isn’t a race, and we have all the time in the world to create something amazing together.

You’re surrounded by love, even if it doesn’t always feel that way. Your friends, your family, they see the light in you that I see. Celebrate those connections, because they’re a reflection of the joy you bring to the world. And when I finally step into your life, I know we’ll create a bond just as unbreakable.

You’re on the brink of something incredible, my love. A new chapter is waiting for you, full of opportunities and second chances. Trust yourself, and trust that the universe is guiding us to each other. I can’t wait to meet you and tell you all the things I’ve been holding in my heart.

Group 4:

My dearest, I know how much you’ve been searching for answers, for guidance, for something to hold onto. You’ve been so strong, navigating the challenges life has thrown at you, but I see the exhaustion in your soul. You don’t have to do it all alone anymore. I’ll be here to support you, to guide you, and to remind you of the beauty in your strength.

You’ve been feeling stuck, like no matter what you do, you can’t move forward. But I want you to know that this is just a pause, not an end. Sometimes we need to step back to see the bigger picture, to understand what truly matters. Take this time to rest, to heal, and to prepare for the incredible journey ahead.

You’ve faced heartbreak, betrayal, and disappointment, but you’ve never let it define you. That resilience, that ability to keep going even when it hurts, is one of the things I love most about you. I promise to honor that strength, to never be the source of your pain, but the one who helps you heal.

There’s a part of you that’s afraid to let go of the past, to move on from what’s familiar, even if it no longer serves you. But I see your potential, your ability to rise above it all. Trust me when I say that the future holds so much more for you than you could ever imagine.

When we finally meet, I’ll show you what it means to be truly loved, to feel safe and cherished. I’ll be your partner in every sense of the word, and together, we’ll create a life filled with love, passion, and endless possibilities. Until then, know that I’m already loving you from afar, cheering you on as you take each step closer to me.

xoxo🌙

[eulaties]

general thoughts about the 2025 小红书 boom

i feel like we're at a really interesting point in time right now, particularly in regards to the shift in american consciousness + changing world order, so i thought it would be fitting to document my thoughts about the xhs situation as a chinese american. however, please note this post is NOT speaking on behalf of any community, and i am only speaking to my own personal opinions.

the good

american propaganda is getting dismantled in real time. there's so much cross-cultural communication right now in relation to america's political issues, everyday life, and what china is really like

im already seeing people starting to learn the language, becoming interested in visiting china, etc. and i truly haven't seen this kind of mass interest in chinese culture in a long time

to be precise, the last time there was really "chinese soft power" in america was during the mid-to-late 2000s. notably this time period included the 2008 beijing olympics which was monumental for china on the global stage, as it showcased their prosperity, openness ("北京欢迎你"), and equal footing in the modern world. ive seen people compare the xhs phenomenon to this event and while both are drastically different, i do think this is an apt comparison (though obviously this xhs thing is on a muchhh smaller scale...)

so many new friendships and connections are being made!

the bad

to add on to what op said, theres definitely a difference between just generally understanding that as diaspora, most people around you will hold sinophobic views about china and chinese people VERSUS actually having empirical evidence that most normal people didn't see chinese people as human before. its jarring to say the least. like everyone is praising chinese people on xhs now, but just last week everyone was fearmongering about us?? really reminds you that in the eyes of the public, favor for any asian culture (and by extension, its people) is fleeting and will often change easily with the season

and yes, its definitely weird to see people talk about chinese people as if they've never seen a chinese person in america before. like obviously there's a HUGE difference between mainlanders and diaspora, but there's also international students that come to america to study so... ??

the memes are funny, and i like how the people on xhs are playing along with them, but something about the "chinese spy" memes rubs me the wrong way. tbh, most mainlanders actually have a positive view of westerners and america, and if they don't study abroad themselves or know anyone that went abroad, they will never truly understand what it's like to be discriminated against simply for being chinese (there's a difference between knowing and understanding ofc; not saying that they're ignorant & don't know anything lol). this is just the honest truth, just like how i'll never understand what it's like to live and grow up in mainland china since im diaspora. anyways, i kind of question if mainlanders are actually aware of the loaded context behind those words. while americans are using the "chinese spy" memes as jokes now in reference to why tiktok is getting banned, it doesn't change the fact that many other americans truly do believe that there is mass chinese surveilliance/planted chinese spies in america (i.e., see modern-day mccarthyism, like how chinese researchers are often stripped of their titles/reputations, interrogated, and then silently deported). like language and framing does matter, and it has actually affected chinese people in america, but now you guys are treating it like a joke?

anyways, even with all of the bad there's still overwhelming good that has come out of this, and i do feel like its better to be more positive than negative about these things in the long run! who knows where tomorrow will take us but at the very least i hope everyone actively continues pissing off the american government 💖 amen

[azrielbrainrot]

In the Face of Your Love

Pairing: Azriel x F!Reader

Description: A love confession wasn't in Azriel's plans for the day.

Warnings: a tiny bit of angst

Word Count: 1,3k

Notes: In the face of writer's block I bring you another quick little story (that actually took me entirely too long to write). Hope you enjoy!

No matter how hard he tried Azriel couldn't remember the last time he had been in this situation. That's not to say he had never been confessed to before of course, that was far from the truth, but he didn't quite remember what to do in such a situation.

It didn't help that you were his friend, and because of it, someone he hadn't ever considered as anything more. If it were anyone else, he would probably be searching for the words to let them down as gently as possible, but looking into your expectant eyes, he can't help but wonder why exactly he had never thought about it before.

You were exceedingly beautiful and kind, remarkably intelligent and hard-working. You took care of your friends and helped them to the best of your abilities, always offering them a shoulder to cry on. Even though you weren't a fighter, Azriel was time and time again reminded of just how strong and fearless you were. You were perfect in his eyes, one of the best people he had ever gotten the pleasure of meeting in his centuries of life. He knew all of this as your friend, so how come he never looked deeper into the connection you shared?

Azriel knew it was partly, or mostly really, because of his lack of luck when it came to such things. Spending centuries in love with the same person, out of habit more than anything, pushing away everyone that threatened to make him feel anything of consequence gave him a long list of detachment issues unsurprisingly, and when he thought he could have something special with the middle Archeron sister after finally moving on from Mor only for it to blow up in his face before it even started, he was forced to take a good look at himself and his actions, and upon realizing that he was in no way ready for a relationship even though he felt desperate for it, Azriel came to conclusion that it was best to focus on his work and his friends, and leave such glittering dreams behind him.

That had been almost a decade ago, before he even met you. For the first time since then, he finds himself thinking of what it would be like to wake up next to someone, share his thoughts and dreams with that person, have someone to hold him through the hard times and take care of them in kind. For the first time in years, Azriel wonders if he could deserve someone's love after all.

His hesitation seems to start weighing on your excitement, pretty eyes moving to watch the ground as a heavy breath escapes you, not bearing the sight of his wide hazel eyes anymore. When you look up at him again a bitter smile is etched on your face, one that makes Azriel’s chest feel heavy and constricted.

“You don't have to say anything. I just wanted you to know, it felt like it was eating me alive keeping it to myself.” The humorless laugh you let out brings a furrow to his brows, but you keep going before he finds the right words. “I hope I'm not making things weird between us, nothing really has to change-”

“Wait,” Azriel finds himself calling out when he notices you taking a step back, away from him.

Unfortunately he stays quiet a second too long after and you end up taking yet another step back, your next words even more heartbreaking than before. “It's okay, Az. You really don't have to comfort me.”

“I don't want to comfort you.”

“Oh.”

He grabs onto your arm gently when you go to turn around, intent on walking to the door this time, cursing himself when he notices the wetness gathering in your eyelids.

“Please don't go,” he begs, staring into your eyes, hoping his will show you a glimpse at all the emotions swirling around in his heart, maybe you could make better sense of them than him. “I'm not good with words and I'm even worse with my feelings, but I can try to explain myself if you just give me a moment. Please.”

“Alright.” Your voice is barely above a whisper, your body letting go of most of the tension as you watch him. He drops his hold on you and offers you a small, grateful smile.

“You caught me off guard, I never noticed your feelings for me weren't entirely platonic,” he starts carefully, eyes flickering down towards your hand, wondering for a moment if holding it in his would be too much, too unfair to you.

“Some Spymaster,” you tease him back, a breathy chuckle escaping him and releasing the tension from his body, his hand reaching down to hold yours.

“I gave up on love a long time ago, long before I met you. Things have never worked out for me, partly for my own faults, making me think I just wasn't meant for these things.” The frown that settles over your face makes his heart skip a beat. Cute, it was cute, adorable even. Gods, how had he been so blind? “So, you see, I never stopped to wonder if we could have a relationship beyond our friendship even though I cherish your presence in my life immensely.”

“And now?”

“Now I'm thinking back on all our time spent together, the times we laughed and cried together, the times you cared for me and I cared for you.” This time he's the one to move, except he's taking a step closer to you, the distance feeling too big now. “I'm wondering what it would be like to come home to you every day, to hold you in my arms at night, to take you to every restaurant and bakery shop you talked about, to hold your hand in mine whenever I want.” Azriel squeezes your hand softly, your smile widening at the gesture. His other hand reaches for your cheek, cupping it delicately before continuing in a hushed tone, “Now I'm thinking I really want to know what your lips taste like.”

“Az,” you breathe out, eyes falling on his lips. He leans down and pecks your cheek softly, taking a step back to look into your eyes.

“If you still mean what you said…”

“Of course I do.” It's your turn to squeeze his hand, tugging on it to pull him back closer to you, he finds it extremely hard to resist you, but he wants to do things right.

“Then I want to invite you for dinner tonight,” he says, a weight he didn't realize was there before lifting off his chest when you nod immediately. “I think we should take things slow, for both of our sakes, and I don't want to promise you anything, the last thing I want to do is hurt you, but I want to try. I want to know what it's like to feel loved and give it back in kind.”

Your face lights up, smiling up at him with an intensity that threatens to blind him. Familiar dark thoughts start swirling in his mind, telling him how he would only snuff it out of you, but he does his best to tamper them down.

Azriel knew he loved you, that much was never up for discussion, and when comparing the love he had for you to the love he held for his brothers or the rest of his family, he can only feel disbelief that he had never questioned it. He would never do anything to hurt you, he would give his life for you without question, and was ready to face his fears and faults head-on if it would make him worthy of being by your side.

“It's a date then?”

He smiles even wider, his face hurting with the unfamiliarity of it, bringing your interlocked hands up to his face and dropping a kiss on the back of your hand, heart fluttering in his chest.

“It's a date.”

[agirlwithglam]

how to live a luckier life! ✧˖°

hiii! in this post i will be giving all my advice as to how i live a lucky life everyday & how to have LUCKY GIRL SYNDROME! everything that happens to me is so lucky it sometimes astounds me! this mini guide will include everything from mindset shifts, tips, and affirmations! <3 so grab a snack, a yummy beverage and get cozy!!

♡ a bit about me personally, i truly believe that i live an extremely lucky life. i dont live in a mansion, i don't own super rich stuff, i do actually feel left out with some friends, and i'm an extremely sensitive person so you can imagine how that must be. i'm just your average girl who goes to school, comes home, eats, etc. so PLEASE dont be fooled into thinking that you always need more or a certain thing or status, whatever it may be, to live a lucky life. i know its confusing, but just hear me out.

♡ MINDSET SHIFTS!

you get to choose what you define as "unlucky". this was THE BIGGEST thing that made me view myself as super lucky!! you actually get to CHOOSE that when something happens to you, do you choose to view it in a way where it could only ever be bad for you, or are you willing to see it as maybe you were divinely protected from something you had no idea about ... which leads me to my next point,

things happen FOR you, not TO you. of course, as i said earlier you can choose to see things in a lens like "oh of course that happened, the universe is out to get me" OR you can choose to see it as "that may have looked like it sucked but thank you god/ universe for protecting me and guiding me!! i may not know why that happened, but i trust that god/ universe has planned everything only for my greater good." because honey trust me, luck is all up there, in your mind. the exact same thing could happen to 2 people but its just their mindset and thinking process that will determine the quality of their life.

look at all that you do have!! GRATITUDE!! i *do not care* if this is a cliche or whatever BUT YOU BETTER LISTEN UP. (ahem, sorry.) but as i said at the top, gratitude will save you. yes, at first it will seem boring or useless or maybe even hard but once you start to train your brain focusing more on what you do have, the good, the happiness in your life, the more easily it will go there.

all about perspective. you may be complaining about trivial things right now like not winning in a game or not being where you want to be in life, but you have a roof over your head, an education, a family, a device, clean clothes, clean water & food. you’re already more fortunate than a lot of the population. so learn to be grateful with what you have right now because you never know if it will be taken away.

start training your brain to see things in a more positive light. it may not come so easily to you in the beginning, but the more you start realising and stopping yourself in the spiral of the lack mindset, and actually walk yourself through the whole process of changing your perspective on this thing, the more it will come naturally to you!

♡ BARBIE & NOVA:

just to clear everything up a bit, lets meet Barbie and Nova and see how they react to the same situation happening to them.

SITUATION 1: missing the bus oh no! Barbie and Nova had stumbled out their house and sprinted towards the bus but unfortunately, it had already left.

how Nova reacts: ugh, of course this happened! nothing ever good happens to me anyway. i swear the universe is actually like out to get me or something. i just wish i could get lucky just this once!

how Barbie reacts: dang it that sucks! buuutt.... what if i just got saved by a terrible accident? or what if when i went on that bus i would have seen or heard something that would make me feel even worse than how this feels right now? oh my, thank you god for protecting me!! i can't believe i was saved like that.

SITUATION 2: getting a high grade in class they just got their results back from a recent science test and they both got 98% !

how Nova reacts: YES!! FINALLY i get something right! finally i am lucky! oops i hope i don't jinx it

how Barbie reacts: omg yay!! im so happy! i really did deserve that, i worked really hard. thank you god!

do you see how no matter what the situation may be, Barbie is always grateful. she always thanks god/ the universe. on the other hand, Nova instead still believes that she was born unlucky so everything she thinks operates from that sort of place!

♡ PRACTICAL TIPS

focus on how you use your energy throughout the day. desperation reeks and will push any manifestations away. let go and let life. when you know you are a good and pure person who will put in the work and have faith and trust that everything will work out in the end, thats all you need to do

everyday, start consciously thinking of or writing down 3 things you’re grateful for. this is certainly a skill that you must practice frequently and once you do being grateful will come to you naturally!

‘proof portfolio’ when something happens to you that is lucky, write it down! (i write it down in my notes app) doesn’t matter if it’s really small or big, write it down so that when you don’t feel lucky you can look to this as proof otherwise!

♡ AFFIRMATIONS!

affirmations a great for drilling something into your mind to remind you that you already have everything you desire!! i recommend writing it down, repeating these in front of a mirror or even just to yourself but when you say it, say it with meaning. say it as if you’re actually speaking it into existence!

everything happens in my favour

everything happens for my greater good

i am so lucky

the universe works to give me the best life

i always attract lucky experiences

i attract opportunities

luck flows to me effortlessly

i am so grateful for everything i have

i always receive blessings

my life is filled with endless blessings

i am a magnet for miracles and joy

i trust that god has my back

god/ the universe wants to see me succeed!

my life is so lucky!!

everything i want flows to me effortlessly!

i glow from the inside out

i always attract abundance

i vibrate at a high frequency

[svetamillss]

Can you please write Hyun-ju with the reader who is pregnant please? We need more mommy Hyun-ju in our lives 🙏

Headcanons: you are pregnant💕

Featuring: Cho Hyun Ju x Reader(f)

Summary: two loving mothers of the future child!

A/N: I love mommy Hyun Ju!

💕💕💕

💕You and Hyun Ju dreamed of having children, especially you wanted a girl. You had several ways. First: you find a sperm donor and only you will be the biological mother of the child. Second: you are adopting a little girl. Third: until your girlfriend completes the transition, you will try to conceive a child naturally. And you did it. The test showed two stripes, which meant that you were pregnant. There were many tears of joy that day, especially from Hyun Ju, because her dream of becoming a mother came true.

💕The first months you had a terrible toxicosis, which you experienced with difficulty, but thanks to your beloved girl, you did quite well, she was always there for you.

- Shsh, baby, don't worry, now you'll lie down for a while and everything will be fine.

- No, I think I want to again.

- I'll bring you a pelvis and you'll vomit in it, don't worry, everything is fine, I'm next to you. - you both understood that this was just the beginning.

💕After toxicosis, a new problem came. Your tastes and appetites, you could not eat anything all day (unless the girl made you, and she did it, but carefully), and at night want something unusual, that poor Hyun Ju had to go to the store sleepy.

- Hyunnie..are you sleeping? - you lightly woke her up.

- Not anymore, what happened, baby, do you feel bad? - she was always worried about you.

- I want.. I want salted watermelon and chocolate cakes.. - you said embarrassedly, your tastes have always amazed the girl, but she understood that this was the effect of pregnancy.

- We don't have any of all this.. okay, I'll go to the store quickly.

You sometimes didn't understand how she tolerates you and fulfills your requests, although the answer is simple, she loves you very much.

💕Let's not forget about frequent mood swings and whims on the spot. Your mood can change five times in an hour. First you will be happy, then you will be angry at some little thing, and then you will cry and apologize to Hyun Ju. But she won't be angry, she'll just kiss you until you calm down.

💕Since your girlfriend is very worried about you and the child, you always go to the doctor on schedule or for the slightest pain. Sometimes you think that your love is too worried about everything, but you will never tell her, because she tries very hard.

Do not forget that your diet will change for the better. You will eat only healthy products under the strict supervision of Hyun Ju.

💕Every month, it becomes more difficult for you to do simple things: walk, get out of bed, clean the house and even take a shower. But you have nothing to worry about, because your love will help you with all the things, even those related to personal hygiene (taking a shower and shaving)

- Well.. Hyunnie, I'll try to handle it myself. - you said embarrassedly when you were going to take a shower and your girlfriend decided to help you.

- Baby, what I didn't see there, it's hard for you to do everything well, I'd rather help, it will be calmer for me.

💕As soon as you found out at the ultrasound that you would have a girl, your girlfriend go to different children's stores. It feels like she can spend all the money only on cute things and toys for your daughter.

- Let's go to that store, baby. - she suggests when you decide to walk around the mall.

- Hyunnie, we already have a lot of things for our girl. - but she didn't listen to you, at such moments she becomes the real girl who likes to go shopping and you can't stop by it, so I always agree.

💕Sometimes Hyun Ju is worried about how to explain to the child that he has two mothers, and that one used to be a man. After all, a normal family is when parents are a man and a woman. But you immediately undertake to comfort her so that it is not too late (Hyun Ju is too gentle and vulnerable in such situations). You explain that tell your daughter the whole truth and she will not turn away, because she will have the best mothers in the world.

💕💕💕

[eldizzle69]

“thinking their crush likes someone else”

masterlist

including :: Hotarubi

—Subaru Kagami

•genuinely heartbroken

•like I see him letting his thoughts get the better of him and telling him he was never good enough anyways.

•he might unconsciously avoid you, like he doesn’t mean to it just kinda happens.

•might look a little gloomy when your around.

•pls make it abundantly obvious you life him he would be so sad.

“Subaru can I ask you a… uh question I guess?” You spoke finally, and your words visibly caught the Hotarubi captain off guard. He gave a nervous nod to your question.

“Have I upset you?…”

“What?” His response was immediate, his eyes panicked. “N-not at all! Why would you think that?” casting his gaze down, he knew why.

“You’re avoiding me,” you said sternly and Subaru sputtered, “if I’ve upset you just tell me why….please?”

There was a long stretch of silence after that. Neither of you said a single thing, and Subaru refused to meet your gaze what so ever. So, you took that as his answer. Bitting your lip you lifted yourself from your seat and went to leave. You were into a few steps into leaving when a gentle hand frantically reached out and grabbed your own.

“I-I’m sorry,” Subaru said with a red face. Quickly he let go of your hand. Then the two of you were engulfed into more silence as Subaru collected his words.

“I like you…,” he said after a moment, with red ears. “A-and I know you like that guy from your anomaly law class but—“

“Why would I like him?” You cut him off, arms crossed. Subaru looked at you suprised and stumbled over his words, “w-well— you—“

“Subaru,” you said pulling him from his s rambled thoughts. Plopping down in front of him, to be eye to eye with him, you couldn’t help but grin. “The one I like is you Subaru.”

—Haku Kusanagi

•a little disappointed, but doesn’t let it affect him

•the way he treats you never changes, he’ll never lead on to being disappointed

•I don’t see him acting or doing much different than he normally does really.

•he still seeks you out to make sure your okay

•he’s just Haku, and that won’t change no matter how you feel about him.

“Penny for your thoughts?” The voice came out of no where, but the familiarity was comforting. Looking up at Haku you sighed and leaned back in the bench. You shook your head and closed your eyes for a moment. When you opened them again Haku was standing right in front of you.

“Well, clearly something is bothering you,” he hummed, crouching down in front of you, “you sure you can’t tell me what’s wrong?”

After a moment of silence you opened your mouth, “…there’s this guy I like…”

You didn’t catch it. It was a brief flash of disappointment that went over his features before he went back to his usual expression.

“Hey, what’s with that expression,” he hummed noting the almost sad look on your face.

“He just…… doesn’t seem to nice my advances..” you admitted defeatedly, fight off a strong blush. Haku hummed and placed a gently hand on your knee. “Well… you can’t make people like you back, but If anything that guys missing out.”

You only shook your head, “not really…”.

“Ah don’t say thattttt,” he said drawing out the last letter. Still kneeling down he gave your knee a pat, “seriously the guys gotta be lucky to have you running after him.”

“Well, do you consider yourself lucky Haku?” You murmured out quietly. Looking up from his hand resting in your knee you notes to shocked look on his face. He didn’t say anything and you bit your lip, “sorry… I’ll just go—“

“I consider myself extremely lucky, now that is,” he hummed not letting you finish. The grin in his face said what you needed to know.

—Zenji Kotodama

•This is so sad Siri play despacito

•definitely going to write sad songs on his biwa about his heartbreak.

•but despite how expressive he is, I see him hiding his heartache AND his crush.

•he knows he’s dead, and he also knows that, if you did like him back, it would be kind of tragic.

•he can’t help but think, if he were alive, could it ever be him?

The gently strum of Zenji’s biwa was the only sound heard in the deck of the Hotarubi pond. There was an odd sense of sadness etched in every note, something unusual of the musician.

“Why the sad song?” Your hummed glancing at the ghost from your spot laid out on the deck.

“Heartbreak is simply beautiful,” he said, his face plastered with a smile nonetheless. You quirked a brow and sat up from your laying position.

“And who exactly is getting their heartbroken?” You hummed, looking for the source of his inspiration. You had been around Zenji long enough to tell what he’s feeling, and you had the hunch this heartbreak was personal.

“No one dear,” he said simply, still strumming his instrument, “a simple thought has clouded my mind.”

“Or a simple someone,” you said your tone accusatory as you shuffled to sit directly next to him. His fingers paused for a moment, the area around you two falling still with silence.

“Might….i ask you a question?” Zenji said after some seconds. He didn’t look your way and his normal grin was nowhere to be seen. You gave a soft nod of approval. “If I were alive, would you ever choose me as a lover?”

The question made you pause, silence once again enveloped the two of you as you sat there wide eyed.

“Ah I see…,” Zenji spoke quietly, his fingers resuming their strumming. Zenji could accept this, he had accepted it for a long time. What he wasn’t expecting was for something—rather someone— to fly through him.

A thump drew his attention as he glanced over to see you lying face first on the deck. “[Na-name]!” He called with concern and you only peaked at him.

“You were always the first option Zenji.”

[twistedpink]

Lovesick! Jamil Viper with physically affectionate reader but pre confession. I just think that Jamil would be stewing so hard watching an affectionate reader hang out with their group

Hopefully he can work up the courage to confess lol

HE MY BABBYYYYYY

Lovesick!Jamil is content just to bask in your warmth. He hasn’t treated himself to an honest connection in years, so he hates that he’s ruined it for some petty feelings </3 He tries to convince himself that there are tons of people like you in the world, but few touch him so boldly. Just holding hands to stick together in a crowd makes him thaw out a bit,,

Lovesick!Jamil is terrified of what liking you means for his mediocre streak. He remembers all the lovestruck fools when he was younger that were punished for showing up their betters or slacking off, and he refuses to be blinded by you! (No matter how sad you look as he swats your hands away, he must stay strong!!)

But, he doesn’t want to offend you for something that’s his fault.. So Jamil doesn’t really change anything- he shares his lunch (when you beg enough), and always lends a helping hand (if it benefits him). Jamil can pretend to be plenty of things, but he can’t force himself to hate you and he hates a LOT of people. The little twitches he gets when he sees you be affectionate with your other friends is enough to make him see red. Why should they get to touch you in his absence? It’s not fair!

Lovesick!Jamil that has banter with you because he’s learned that you prefer it to small talk. He unconsciously picks up your little habits and loves to see that you notice when he changes (he doesn’t point out that you’re becoming another him, for fear that you’ll stop doing it)

Lovesick!Jamil that (despite his mysterious appeal) gossips with you, all the time. He likes you because with enough time he knows you’ll grow to understand him. Nobody else can relate to him like you do! Regardless of your life story you’ve been turned into a means to an end for the NRC students, it’s Inescapable. He knows that feeling better than anyone else, so you have to trust him. Please? Right now he’ll settle for trash talking, but he’s greedy. He’ll worm his way into your head eventually <3

Lovesick!Jamil sees you, and only asks to be seen by you in return. Even if he has to sneak you a courier parrot to communicate from home he’ll do it, don’t give up on him just yet! Everyone knows he has potential, so he can practically guarantee a life of luxury if you cling to him for the long haul. He knows you have what it takes, trust his investor’s intuition! (mooching is peak romance guys please don’t leave -JV) <33

[cute-firelight]

It is because one person was born in the Undercity and the other in Piltover. People will always give more nuance for the person of the oppressed side. However, this doesn’t change what Jynx did. Jynx also killed a lot of people from the Undercity while she was with Silco.

But, in Season 2, she is seen more as a figure in a path of revolution (again, something people can relate more), and from the other side, Cait s position allows her to have the system in her behalf and to do what she does, that is the opposite: take the Zaun operations using her power.

Jynx had the support of the Jynxers but it is not the same. The Jynxers are captured and incarcerated, meanwhile the enforcers are doing their jobs and praised for it, or if not praised then just assumed that they are just doing a job.

Jynx is acting on her own against topside power, and Cait has the system supporting her actions against the chems.

However, what the show tries to say with them is that they are like two sides of the same coin. By perpetuating the violence cycle they become what the other are even if it in opposite sides. Is interesting how they felt so lured and so repulsed by the other since the beginning of the series.

Caitlyn face and family banner was all over Piltover and Zaun. The same as Jynx. They became the symbols of both sides by doing the same, perpetuating the violence. There are multiple paralelisms between them as well. Their last talk is used to address that.

Like I hate you because I hate myself.

What people criticize about this is that clearly one side is abusing the other, (like Piltover vs Zaun) so comparing the two like this is unfair, even if at the same time Zaunites are being oppressed by their own. However, I feel that the show is much more rich if the class issue is adressed like part of each character differentiated traits, even if this didn’t end up being the series main thematic element.

These are difficult topics that usually divide people a lot, and in the series I think they needed to dwell more on them at the end, for people to understand the series themes better.

Arcane is still a good piece of media, but I can understand why more nuance and attention was needed for the Undercity people. I didn’t liked that in the last chapter we never got lines for Zevika and what she is trying to achieve at the council for the future of Zaun. I think we needed at least a better closure for Zaun and it’s future even if that closure is that nothing is actually solved.

The thing people ask about centering on the revolution or fixing the class isuue I find that is very unrealistic. This kind of systemic issues that are traced for so long are not easily fixed. Even if the alternate timeline they live a lot better, we see they still have some issues contamination from topside, when Clagor talks about their plants for clean contamination project.

I found realistic the way this ending was so bittersweet in terms of how even after fighting with Piltover anything was solved for Zaun people. However, I just ask: please, it would be amazing that one day we see a directors cut or a spinoff episode or something about the aftermath of Zaun.

I think one of the other reasons this bias against Caitlyn bugs me so much is because she is very much linked to Jinx. And not just because Jinx killed her mother.

Multiple times in the series Caitlyn is compared to Jinx. Vi comments on her obsessive behavior being just as intense as her sister’s back in Season 1. When she gets really upset she has a hallucination much like Jinx. Her tunnel vision for revenge is just like Jinx. And Vi even makes the same connection after she stops Caitlyn from shooting Jinx at the end of Act 1.

The show is intentionally calling your attention to these parallels.

But Jinx is allowed the grace to be flawed and righteous in her anger, whereas Caitlyn is condemned for it.

[phoenixblaze1412]

P-P-P-P-P-PLEASE MAKE DOTTORE WITH A FEM READER WHO'S INSCURE ABOUT HER BODY + HEADCANONS PLS JDDHDISIDHDH THIS MAN IS MAKING ME CRAZY ARGH😭😭💗💗💗

Of course anon!!

From the moment he met you, Dottore was captivated by your presence. Your soft features and curves were a stark contrast to the cold, rigid environments he was used to and he found them absolutely mesmerizing.

He’s a man of science, after all, how could he not admire the balance and symmetry of your form? He often comments on this in his clinical yet endearing way.

“Fascinating. You’re truly exquisite in ways others fail to appreciate. Yet you are mine and mine alone, which makes me the most happiest."

When he notices you feeling self-conscious or trying to cover yourself up, he immediately intervenes. Dottore has little patience for your insecurities, not because they annoy him, but because he can’t fathom how you could doubt your own beauty.

He’ll tilt your chin up with a gloved finger, his piercing gaze meeting yours. “Do you truly believe I would waste my time with someone unremarkable? I chose you for a reason.”

Dottore adores how soft and warm you are compared to the cold sterility of his lab and even his own cold exterior frame. He often pulls you into his lap while working, resting his chin on your shoulder and letting his hands trace lazy patterns along your arms or sides.

“You’re like a perfect cushion,” he teases with a smirk, though his tone is fond.

Whenever you express doubts about your appearance, he cuts you off with a firm but loving reprimand. “Enough of that nonsense. Your body is a masterpiece, and I won’t have you insulting it nor my taste.”

He’s not afraid to use his sharp tongue to cut down anyone who dares make a comment about your size.

Dottore’s compliments often come wrapped in scientific musings or dry wit.

“Your skin is remarkably soft. I should study how it manages to stay so perfect.”

“Your proportions are ideal. Truly, the gods must have been paying attention when they made you.”

He simply knows how to make you flustered and he lives for it.

Dottore loves seeing you in clothes that accentuate your curves. He insists on getting you tailored outfits that highlight your beauty, often acting as if it’s purely for his own benefit. “I can’t have people thinking I’m with someone so plain. Let them see what I see.”

Behind closed doors, Dottore lets his guard down. He kisses every inch of your body, murmuring soft reassurances against your skin.

“Every part of you is perfect. Don’t you see? You’re mine, and I wouldn’t change a thing.”

Dottore often surprises you with thoughtful gestures, like creating a custom chair for your comfort or designing shoes that fit perfectly. It’s his way of showing you that your body is not a limitation but something to be celebrated.

He’s fiercely protective of you, especially when it comes to your self-esteem. If he ever overhears someone making a cruel comment, they won’t dare to do so again after facing his wrath.

“You’d do well to mind your words. That’s my beloved you’re speaking of.”

Dottore loves teasing you about how irresistible he finds you. “If you keep looking that tempting, I might just have to cancel my experiments for the day.”

----------

One evening, you were sitting on the edge of the bed, looking down at yourself in the mirror. The dress you had on clung to your curves in a way that made your stomach churn with self-doubt. You tugged at the fabric, wishing it would just hide you better.

Dottore, ever observant he is, noticed immediately. He approached from behind, his hands settling on your shoulders as he leaned down to press a kiss to your temple.

“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice soft yet firm.

You hesitated before murmuring, “I just.. I don’t look right in this. I wish I looked.. better..”

“Stop,” he interrupted, spinning you around to face him. His hands cupped your cheeks, tilting your face up so your eyes met his. “I won’t hear another word of this nonsense.”

“But--”

He silenced you with a kiss, slow and deliberate. When he pulled back, his gaze was piercing yet filled with something warmer than you expected.

“You are breathtaking,” he said, his gloved hands trailing down your arms. “Your softness, your warmth, the way you fit so perfectly against me.. Do you think I, of all people, would settle for anything less than perfection?”

Your cheeks flushed and he smirked, clearly satisfied with your reaction. He pulled you into his chest, resting his chin on your head.

“I love you,” he murmured, his voice uncharacteristically gentle. “All of you. And I’ll remind you of that every day if I must.”

In that moment, wrapped in his arms, the weight of your insecurities felt just a little lighter.

[itsquakey]

NextGen Q&A! (Again)

Here we go, some more asks with an illustration this time like it used to be! I'm excited to do this one as I'm now able to post actual new art.

Yes, Metadede is canon. It's just incredibly vague and secretive in how it's written in this AU. I believe the earliest hint at Metadede being a thing is in the introduction to Pike Knight comic, where it is pointed out Dedede took Meta's sacrifice the worst out of them all (well..maybe not as bad as Pike but). Because I'm currently metadede brained there will be more open references to them.

Also fun fact: The reason Dedede has a feather-beard in Nextgen is because Meta isn't around anymore. Dedede could've grown it at any point but Meta hated it so much Dedede could shave it for him.

vvv More asks below! vvv

Pike Knight took over (or attempted to moreso) because he believed Kirby wasn't ruling over Dreamland as its new king good enough, and believed he could not only do a better job but bring back Meta Knight himself. Something that the others didn't seem interested in which frustrated her to such levels that she did what she did. But tdlr Pike did it out of grief.

Chuchu in Nextgen is a canon lesbo, so they were never really together. They were and are just friends.

Just want to put this here no real need to answer anything

So to explain this- normal souls in the afterlife have to stay in the afterlife. They are unable to go to the real world or interact with the real world without breaking the rules made up by Necrodeus to prevent chaos from happening in the living realm. The only way a soul is allowed to enter the living realm is if a reaper accompanies them, and that usually isn't all that common. There's a limited amount of reapers in comparison to souls in the afterlife. That being said Morpho brings Meta to the living world often and when they do they take the form of bugs. Morpho and Papi are both reapers and can changes forms as they please and talk in the living world. Meta however cannot. He's stuck as a beetle and couldn't talk to anyone even if he tries (that is until he himself trains to and successfully becomes a reaper as well but that's another time). Kirby knows early on thanks to his communication with Morpho but doesn't want to say anything because he's worried about what could happen if they spilled the beans about it. The aforementioned "Necrodeus incident™" helps reveal to everyone that Meta knight was this strange beetle the whole time. After this happens Metabeetle and the others can communicate normally after he is granted reaper status.

The staff King Kirby carries contains the crystal from Kirby 64! I was gifted to him by Ribbon during his coronation. It's one of his main weapons, though he usually just uses it like a normal staff. It does a hell of a good job keeping malicious dark matter away though.

Meta Knight would probably feel guilty about it all, thinking he was responsible for what went down when he really wasn't.

(Referring to a really old early image of Marx and Castella)

I like to imagine Castella can/could wield Galaxia just for a joke. I'm sure Meta Knight and Kirby are not the only ones worthy enough to use the sword.

That's all for now! Would you like your baby waddle dee loaf bagged or would you prefer to carry it?

[rhyliecaterflyisalwaysneverbad]

Message For Everybody In Gacha Community

I'm Trying To Be Better Person, but as most of you know, I was born here in 2003 and growing up until I've been exposed by 9mysterybook6, I always tried to see the good in everyone around me. Tumblr is my life and you are my people. We... we just went through another exposing rants about me.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21

But this is Torturing, Traumatizing And Hurting Me, It Just Breaks My Heart If Your Turning Against Me And Thinking It Was Shaninagans. No one is even given a chance! I can't stand idly by while the place I live is subjected to such violence or rants! So, I've been thinking: Isn't there a more humane way to hinder overpopulation here in gacha community? Perhaps we can create an alternative way to change hearts and souls through... redemption? Well, I think yes! So, that's what this project aims to achieve! Ladies and gentlemen, I've opened the first of its kind, A Community Group that rehabilitates everybody!"

Cause communities are for people passin' through... temporarily... I think it'll serve a purpose... a place to work toward redemption... yay...!

Look, every single one of you has something good, deep down inside. I know you do! ...Maybe I'm not getting through to you.

I hope everybody has my word. Your right rules are stupid, I've removes rules for you all, I hope Everybody's lessons are learned that i'm good person but a coward too.

#unexpose Rhylie Caterfly

[balrogballs]

okay now that we are mutuals (I have been blessed by the divine balls!! melian who? 😒) I can shamelessly come into your ask box to rant about elves.

OK. Here comes.

The elves that first awoke and their immediate children, right? From the information I've been able to gather, their society was tribal. More so than that, they basically didn't know... Anything. Like. At all. Presumably they woke up ass butt naked, in total darkness and with no language. Just ✨vibes✨

Some of these Elves had died at some point before they could invent anything, really, besides speech and maybe knives. Maybe. Eventually they got re-embodied and went to continue living on their merry way in Valinor/Aman.

Now, balls, I'm not a pervert. I'm an amateur anthropologist. Please keep that in mind.

Many years passed and Elves learnt many things from the Valar, and their babies had babies and had babies and so forth. So I'm thinking, some people just have that personality trait that they think it was better before. It doesn't matter how bad it was, but it was before and that means that it's better. It could be the black plague and they'd be wallowing the they just don't see people with sores anymore 😒🙄

So picture this. Thranduil, in all of his Bold Glamour glory, arrives in Valinor and eventually his daddy drags him to socialise (boy did the seclusion have a profound impact on his social skills, his mother says) with his extended relatives. And of course you have all kinds of people there.

But. By a lovely tree at sunset he meets his earliest known ancestor. Tall, probably, and squinting because the sun is too damn bright (it was better before, when it didn't scorch his face in the morning), and wearing absolutely nothing. Bojangles blowing on the wind. Just rawdogging it.

Balls. I have been thinking about this a lot. For historical reasons. Do you think Valinor has public indecency laws? Do you think accommodations are made for the neanderthal elves?

I need to let you know that I read this out to Mr Balls as he made dinner. I think I’ll be reading it out to most people. If I ever win a literary prize, I will read this out as my acceptance speech and attribute it to you.

I think “Now, balls, I'm not a pervert. I'm an amateur anthropologist. Please keep that in mind.” irrevocably changed something deep inside me. I don’t think I can ever, ever look at a tree without seeing a tall, noble elf standing by it, bits flapping in the wind. If I go and do some deforestation somewhere, it is entirely your fault.

[sfmothdaddy]

Brain rot I guess

Something was wrong with Johnny, Ghost could feel it in his bones. The usually bouncy and bubbly persona of his Sargent had been changed somehow. Sure the lad kept up with jokes, and the playful banter during missions... but something was off. He could feel the man eyes on him constantly, and often it looked like the man was going to say something to him but seemed to change his mind mid thought and shift to a safer topic.

Price had sent Johnny on a mission, a collaboration to bring in more information to take down Makarov, and Ghost couldn't help but feel.... something when he wasn't Johnny's overwatch, but that was neither here nor there. That was just life in the SAS for two Alphas who were good at their jobs. Still didn't mean Ghost couldn't have feelings about it.

Before this last mission, Johnny had gone down to records, something about an issue with some filing. Told Price he wouldn't miss anything, and he'd be right back. Price hadn't been bothered, probably because it was an issue the man found and Johnny just had to sign his life away again, nothing out of the ordinary, surely. When the lad returned he looked the same, had that pre mission determination on his face but to Ghost there was.... something behind his eyes he couldn't quite place.

"JOHNNY!" Ghost screamed, watching his body hit the floor after the gunshot, how could he fucking not. Everything around him happened in slow motion and so fast that he couldn't see at the same time. Bullets were fired as the building shook, Price had to physically push Ghost back out of the room and into cover as that snake slithered away and Johnny's body was burried under rubble. Somewhere Price was switching between barking orders and blaming himself, but Ghost.... Simon could do nothing but stare at the blood on his fingers. Odd that he'd never noticed before.

After immediate exfil, a team was sent back to retrieve Johnny's body. Ghost wanted to go but he wasn't cleared from medical, apparently he'd also been wounded but hadn't felt a thing. How could he? Price thundered into his room the next day, ranting about the higher ups, how they went over his head and Johnny had been cremated, against his last wishes, because there would have been too many questions from his family and it was "better this way". As the man paced, Ghost spoke up. "I want to do the notification if it wasn't done already. I need to.... I need to be the one to tell them." Price nodded, solemnly.

The next day in his dress uniform, both he and Price looked at the cute little cottage and knocked on the door. Idily Simon wondered why Johnny never talked about this place, sure he'd waxed poetic about some things from home, but never said a word about the cottage and attached farm. When the door opened a soft and sweet scent slid out and Simon had to halt the growl in the back of his throat. A woman blinked up at both of them, wearing one of Johnny's old PT shirts and a subtle swell at her stomach. He could feel the color drain from his face as Price cleared his throat. "Mrs McTavish?"

"Och, please I'm still getting used to that. You must be some of John's friends? Come in." He and Price shared a look as they stepped into the home that somehow smelt.... like everything Simon ever wanted.

"Ma'am we've..." Price started, tryingnto find the right words.

"A few days ago, during a mission Johnny was... fatally wounded. Ma'am I'm sorry, Johnny didn't make it." Her eyes laser locked with Simon, but something behind those eyes hardened, not collapsing into grief like he thought they would.

"Johnny's not dead." She shook her head, one hand sliding down over her slight bump. "He's alive."

"Ma'am... we were both there when it happened." Price tried again but she waved him off.

"You don't understand, he is alive no matter what you saw or think you know. I can feel he is alive. Our bond is still in place, I would have felt it break the moment he was dead."

"Bond?" Both Simons and Prices eyes slid up to her unmarked neck.

"Aye, we've been mated fer months, made it official our last cycle." Seemingly feeling their eyes on her neck she rolled her eyes. "We didn't go the traditional route for bites for a reason. But is still 'ave 'is mark on me." She pulled the hem of her shorts up just enough to show off a clear bite mark on her inner thigh. "Our relationship was never quite traditional the the common sense, we were much more... old school about some things."

Price and Simon exchanged glances, this changed things. Something behind Prices eyes turned stubborn and angry all at once. "We didn't know the lad was mated."

"Course you didn't." She waved the words away, "I'm private, and my job makes it hard for me to befriend many...Johnny was the exception. He didn't leave room for ya to say no to 'im." She sighed and sat heavily on the arm of the couch. "He was working up to it, I think. Wanted to invite you all round once this mess with Makarov was over."

Simon stiffened, she knew? "He wasn't supposed to disclose details about-"

Price was cut off when she laughed, "He didn't disclose shit. I'm in intelligence, I know who you are and your movements. I knew the mission brief before Johnny left here." With a soft groan she rubbed her temples. "This is gonna be so much fucking paperwork."

"Who do you work for?"

"I'm American, I work alongside your Kate Laswel, I'm sure she could verify, though I hadn't gotten around to changing my last name at work yet."

"Kate knew about this?"

"No? As far as I'm aware she had no idea of mine and Johnny's involvement went past me being his watcher once while she was in a briefing. As I said, Johnny made it impossible to resist. And while technically fraternization is frowned upon, I'm not SAS so before you try and throw that in my face, know that I'm three steps ahead of you."

She stood and paced behind the couch before pulling out a cell phone from a drawer and making a call. Her voice seemed to slide into something inky and dark, with a Russian lilt as she spoke. "Good morning Colonel, it seems a common enemy has taken something that belongs to me, and I want it back." There was a pause while someone spoke on the other end. "You tell that spineless coward that he has 48 hours to return him to me, or I will burn him and his empire to the ground. He will remember why I was given my name. And if I find out you and your men aided him, you will suffer the same fate. Am I clear? I will see my mate returned to me, or everything will be in flames and there will be nothing left of either of you to send to your families. Your skulls will adorn my wall."

The call ended, and Price blew out a breath. "Damn I miss flip phones and their satisfying ending to phone calls. Now I need to find gear that will fit my bump."

"We will find Johnny." Simon vowed but she shook her head.

"Your government covered this up, do you really think they would give you the authority to go out there and look for someone KIA? No, we both know it. However, I do have a reputation I can use and I will follow through with to get him back. He has a lot that he needs to answer for, including why he hadn't talked to you about me, but that was his one and only ask, that he handles it. So now I must retieve my wayward idiot and bring him home to do what I told him to do weeks ago. Just like a bloody man, make me do all the work."

[yua0ra]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐆𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐩𝐥𝐮𝐦 𝐂𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐧𝐢𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐬: 𝐆𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐮𝐢𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐭𝐨𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡.

WARNINGS: unserious drabble of drugged!mattheo riddle x drugged!fem!reader, established relationship, underage drug use, nothing angsty or severe, just fun hallucinations, pet names, a bit of fluff in the end, playful banter, teasing. SFW, not proofread. english is not my first language.

miscellaneous ☆ and illegal lol

SUMMARY: Mattheo and you trip on hallucinogens.

WC: 3.9K AN: I definitely didn’t write this while being under the effects. highly recommend reading this while high. also, all my wizarding knowledge really comes out when i’m, ehm, in another world.

𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓:

It was supposed to be a quiet evening in the Room of Requirement—just you, Mattheo Riddle, and the kind of bad decisions that usually started with him smuggling in something “special,” to something that he said was to “expand your horizons.”Quiet was, of course, a relative term when Mattheo was involved.

“This,” Mattheo declared, holding up a bag of shimmering, powder-coated gummies, “is going to change your life, baby.”

“You mean ‘end my life,’” you said, eyeing the bag with suspicion. “What is that, anyway? Fizzing Whizbees’ shady cousin?”

“Behold,” Mattheo declared, holding the bag up like it was the Elder Wand. “Glowplum Gummies. Made from the juice of the rare Lumisfruit, grown exclusively in enchanted caves in the Alps.”

You raised an eyebrow. “And you’re sure they’re not made in some dodgy Knockturn Alley backroom?”

“Please,” Mattheo scoffed. “Knockturn Alley wishes it had this level of sophistication. These are artisanal.”

“That word doesn’t mean what you think it means.”

“It means ‘cool and probably illegal,’” he said, shaking the bag. “Come on, live a little.” You crossed your arms. “Trust, this is the pinnacle of wizarding innovation.”

“The pinnacle of wizarding innovation is a bag of candy?”

“Don’t be a snob,” he said, shaking the bag so it caught the light. The gummies inside sparkled in an unnervingly magical way, as if they were tiny galaxies trapped in jelly. “These aren’t just any candies. They are enchanted with springwater, and probably a little bit of chaos.”

You peered into the bag. They smelled faintly of lavender and honey, with an undercurrent of something metallic, like the air before a storm.

“Probably? That doesn’t sound reassuring.” your tone already heavy with regret.

“They’re fine,” he insisted. “I’ve had them before.”

“Oh, that makes me feel so much better. Tell me, how many times have you ended up in the Hospital Wing because something was ‘fine’?”

“Not the point,” Mattheo said smoothly. “The point is, these will change your life. Temporarily, but still. It’s like… experiencing magic in HD.”

“Magic is already HD,” you pointed out.

“Alright, Captain Logic,” he said, rolling his eyes. “Just trust me, pretty girl. They’re harmless. Mostly.”

“Mostly’ is not a selling point, Riddle.”

But, of course, he popped one into his mouth anyway, chewing with a look of pure smugness. “See?” he said, his voice slightly muffled. “Completely fine.”

You eyed the bag, then him. “What do they taste like?”

“Like the best thing you’ve ever eaten, but also like nothing you’ve ever tasted. Very philosophical.”

“That’s not helpful.”

“Look,” he said, shoving the bag toward you, “just try one. If you don’t like it, I’ll… I don’t know, I’ll let you copy my Potions notes for a week.”

“That’s not much of a bribe.”

“Two weeks, then.”

You sighed, plucking a gummy from the bag and against your better judgment, you popped it into your mouth.

It fizzed immediately, like sherbet, but then the flavor shifted. First, it was sweet and floral, like candied violets dipped in honey.

Then it turned tangy, a sharp burst of citrus that made your tongue tingle. A cool, minty sensation followed, as though you’d just bitten into the winter wind, before it melted into a warm, spicy glow that spread through your chest. It was unlike anything you’d ever tasted—otherworldly, but somehow comforting.

“Okay,” you said reluctantly, “that was… good.”

“Right?” Mattheo grinned. “And now we wait.”

You swallowed, the last traces of the gummy’s warmth lingering in your chest like a cozy fireplace. “Wait for what, exactly? For me to spontaneously combust? Start speaking Parseltongue? What did you do to me, Mattheo?”

Mattheo grinned like a cat who’d just tipped over the milk jug. “You’ll see, gorgeous. It’s like waiting for fireworks—only better. Or worse. Depends on your mindset, really.”

“Comforting,” you said dryly, crossing your arms. “You’re about as reassuring as Peeves with a slingshot.”

“I take that as a compliment,” he replied, lounging back against the desk. “But don’t worry. Nothing terrible happens the first time.”

You froze. “What do you mean, first time? What happened the last time you ate these?”

“Well,” he said, scratching his chin like he was reminiscing about a fond childhood memory. “Last time, I may have ended up in the Greenhouse having a very intense conversation with a Snargaluff.”

You gawked at him. “You had a chat with a man-eating plant, and you thought, ‘Yes, let me convince my girlfriend to try this too’?”

“To be fair,” Mattheo said, holding up a finger, “the Tentacula was quite pleasant. Called me ‘chap.’ We really bonded.”

Before you could come up with a scathing reply, the floor suddenly rippled beneath your feet, like a stone tossed into water. You yelped, clutching the edge of a nearby table for balance.

“Uh, Mattheo?” you said, your voice rising in alarm. “Why is the floor moving?”

Mattheo’s eyes lit up. “Oh, it’s starting! This is the best part.”

The room shimmered like someone had sprinkled the air with powdered starlight. The walls seemed to stretch and yawn, like they were waking up after a long nap.

And then, just as you thought it couldn’t get weirder, the floor tiles beneath you began to rearrange themselves, sliding around to form a massive checkerboard.

“Please tell me this is just a bad dream,” you said, gripping the table tighter.

“Nah,” Mattheo said cheerfully, stepping onto one of the newly reconfigured tiles. “This is real life, baby. Or at least, as real as it gets on Glowplums.”

Suddenly, the tiles around Mattheo lit up like a disco floor, each one glowing a different color. He glanced down, then smirked. “Guess who just became the king of wizard chess?”

“King? More like court jester,” you shot back, trying to ignore the fact that the table you were holding onto had just grown a pair of eyes and was now blinking at you in mild confusion.

The table cleared its throat—yes, throat—and said in a prim, clipped voice, “Excuse me, but do you mind? You’re wrinkling my varnish.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” you said, sarcasm dripping from your tone. “Should I move to a less sentient piece of furniture?”

“If you wouldn’t mind,” the table sniffed. “Some of us have standards.”

Mattheo burst out laughing. “This is brilliant! You’re getting sass from a table.”

“And you’re about to get a hex to the face,” you retorted, though the effect was somewhat ruined by the fact that your legs were wobbling like jelly. “Why didn’t you warn me this would turn the furniture into back-talking divas?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Besides, it’s not always furniture. Sometimes it’s fruit. One time, I argued with a particularly aggressive pineapple for twenty minutes.”

“I’m not surprised. You’d argue with a ghost if it looked at you wrong.”

“Only if the ghost started it,” he said with a wink.

Just then, the checkerboard floor shifted again, and one of the tiles beneath you began to rise, lifting you into the air like a podium. You let out an indignant squawk. “Mattheo, do something! I’m being abducted by Hogwarts’ interior design!”

Mattheo doubled over, howling with laughter. “Oh, this is amazing. You’re like the queen of the weirdest chess set ever.”

“I swear, if this tile tries to move me diagonally, I’m throwing you into the Black Lake.”

But before he could respond, a low rumbling sound filled the room. You both froze, glancing around.

“Uh… what was that?” you asked, your voice a mix of irritation and genuine fear.

Mattheo tilted his head. “Could be the cloud dragons.”

“Cloud what?”

As if on cue, a swarm of tiny, translucent dragons swooped down from the ceiling. They looked like they were made of mist, their wings glinting with faint rainbows. One of them sneezed, releasing a miniature lightning bolt that nearly singed Mattheo’s hair.

“Okay, nope,” you said, clinging to your podium-tile. “I am officially done.”

Mattheo, meanwhile, was staring at the dragons with the giddy expression of someone who’d just found a lifetime supply of Chocolate Frogs. “Oh, come on! Look at them—they’re adorable!”

“Adorable? They’re trying to electrocute us!”

“Not on purpose,” he said, ducking as another lightning bolt whizzed past. “Probably. They’re just a little… sneezy.”

You glared at him. “I’m never eating anything you give me again.”

“Sure you will,” he said with a grin, dodging another bolt. “You can’t resist my charm.”

“Charm? You’ve got the charm of a Blast-Ended Skrewt.”

“Hey, that’s unfair. Skrewts are lovable in their own way.”

“I hate you.”

“No you don’t, my love” he said, grabbing a glowing tile and tossing it at one of the dragons like a Frisbee. “You’re having the time of your life.”

As much as you wanted to deny it, the ridiculousness of the situation was starting to chip away at your irritation. It was hard to stay mad when your boyfriend was swatting at cloud dragons with a glowing tile, grinning like a maniac. Or it could be the drugs. You shrugged your shoulders.

“Fine,” you muttered. “But if I die, I’m haunting you.”

“Deal,” Mattheo said, winking. “I can’t wait to follow me for the rest of your life, beautiful.”.

“Ugh.”

Chuckling he turns nodding. “Now, let’s negotiate with Harold. He’s the real boss around here.”

Harold. You turned to see a new arrival, waddling into the Room of Requirement like he owned the place.

He was… well, difficult to describe. Imagine if a penguin had collided headfirst with a pygmy Puffskein, and then someone had enchanted him with an extra dash of cosmic glitter for good measure. His sleek black-and-white body sparkled faintly, his tail shimmered like a comet, and his beady eyes glowed with unnerving intelligence.

You blinked. “Mattheo, what in Merlin’s name is that?”

Mattheo glanced over his shoulder and grinned. “Oh, that’s Harold. He shows up sometimes when things get interesting.”

“Interesting?!” you sputtered. “What part of this situation made you think a glittery penguin-thing was normal?”

“Harold’s not just any glittery penguin-thing,” Mattheo said, feigning offense. “He’s like… I don’t know, the unofficial mascot of bad ideas.”

“Great. Just what we needed,” you muttered, watching Harold waddle over to the still-sulking armchair. The creature stared at it for a long moment, then let out a series of hoots that sounded vaguely like judgment.

“Uh, Harold?” Mattheo said, crouching down to meet the creature’s gaze. “Everything alright, buddy?”

Harold flicked his glittery tail and hooted again. Then, in a surprisingly posh voice, he said, “This chair is an affront to wizarding design.”

Your jaw dropped. “He talks?!”

“Of course I talk,” Harold said, his tone dripping with disdain. “Unlike you, I’m not an uncultured lump of magical chaos.”

“Hey!” Mattheo said, looking mildly offended. “I am extremely cultured.”

“You’re swinging glowing tiles at invisible dragons,” Harold replied. “Hardly the behavior of a sophisticated wizard.”

You snorted, trying to stifle a laugh. “He’s got you there, Matty.”

Mattheo threw you a mock glare. “Oh, sure. Take Harold’s side. Betray me for a penguin-Puffskein hybrid.”

“Can you blame me? He’s clearly the most sensible being in this room.”

Harold puffed up proudly, his glittery tail sparkling even brighter. “Thank you. At least someone here has taste.”

“Alright, Harold,” Mattheo said, crossing his arms. “If you’re so sophisticated, what exactly are you doing here?”

Harold tilted his head, blinking slowly. “I came to observe the chaos, of course. And to judge your life choices, which, frankly, are appalling.”

Mattheo let out a bark of laughter. “I love this guy.”

You rolled your eyes, still perched on your glowing tile pedestal. “Harold, do you have any advice for getting us out of this… whatever this is?”

Harold gave a long-suffering sigh. “If you’d like my help, you’ll need to do one thing first.”

“What’s that?” you asked hesitantly.

He smirked—or at least, you thought he smirked. “Admit that eating Glowplum Gummies was a terrible idea.”

Mattheo opened his mouth to protest, but you beat him to it. “Done. Worst idea of my life. I’ve learned my lesson.”

“Hey!” Mattheo protested, looking betrayed. “You’re throwing me under the bus and the penguin?”

“It’s a comet-tailed penguin-Puffskein hybrid, actually,” Harold corrected smugly. “And your friend here has excellent survival instincts.”

You smirked. “See, Mattheo? Even Harold thinks I’m the sensible one.”

Mattheo groaned, rubbing his temples. “This is why I don’t trust magical snacks. They always turn my people against me.”

Harold hooted in approval. “And yet, you keep eating them. Truly remarkable.”

The room had quieted, as much as a space filled with glowing tiles, invisible flapping creatures, and a judgmental glitter-penguin hybrid could. Harold was perched smugly on the sulking armchair, the dragons had retreated to the ceiling in a huffy, sneezy cluster, and Mattheo was still sulking about being outvoted by both you and a sentient magical anomaly.

“So… now what?” you asked, still balanced awkwardly on your glowing tile pedestal.

Mattheo perked up immediately, his grin returning like it had never left. “Now? Now we see what else this room can do.”

You groaned. “I should’ve known you’d say something stupid.”

“Oh, come on,” Mattheo said, hopping onto another tile, which immediately lit up and started playing a jaunty little tune. “You can’t tell me this isn’t the most fun you’ve had in ages.”

“That’s a low bar,” you muttered, finally climbing down from your glowing pedestal, only for the floor tile beneath you to give a delighted ding and spin you around like you were on some cursed carnival ride.

“Whoa!” you yelped, grabbing onto a nearby bookshelf to steady yourself. The bookshelf, naturally, tutted disapprovingly.

“Careful!” it said in a raspy voice. “Do you know how long it takes to organize my volumes? Rough handling will not be tolerated.”

“Oh, great,” you grumbled.

Mattheo, meanwhile, was busy trying to catch one of the sneezy cloud dragons, again. He leaped from tile to tile, each one lighting up in vibrant colors as he went, and managed to grab hold of a tiny dragon by its tail. It let out an indignant chirp and zapped him with a miniature lightning bolt.

“Oi!” Mattheo shouted, shaking his hand. “You little—”

“I warned you,” you called, trying not to laugh. “Don’t pick fights with the local wildlife.”

“Wildlife?” Harold said, looking appalled. “Those are storm sprites, thank you very much. And they have more dignity than most wizards.”

Mattheo looked between you and Harold, clearly debating whether to retort, then decided against it. Instead, he plopped down on a particularly fluffy-looking rug, which immediately huffed and shuffled away from him.

“Did that rug just move?” he asked, looking both offended and impressed.

“You’re lucky it didn’t bite you,” you replied. “I’m starting to think everything in this room has a vendetta.”

“Everything in this room has taste,” Harold corrected, flicking his glittery tail. “Which is why they dislike your… energy.”

Mattheo gestured around dramatically. “This from the penguin-puff hybrid who’s lounging on a talking armchair. You’re all part of the chaos!”

“We’re refined chaos,” Harold replied, puffing out his chest.

You laughed, finally giving up on trying to restore order to the room. “Alright, baby. What’s your grand plan now? Or are we just going to sit here and wait for the rug to start giving life advice?”

Mattheo grinned mischievously, the kind of grin. “Actually, I was thinking we test the limits of this place. Harold, you’re in charge of navigation. Lead the way.”

Harold blinked at him, unimpressed. “I’m not your tour guide.”

Mattheo waved dismissively. “Fine, I’ll figure it out myself. Come on, let’s see if the ceiling turns into the night sky or something.”

As Mattheo started hopping from tile to tile again, you glanced at Harold, who gave you a resigned look. “You’re friends with him, I assume?”

“Unfortunately, a bit more” you replied. “But he grows on you.”

“Like a magical fungus?”

“Exactly.”

You followed Mattheo reluctantly, keeping an eye on the storm sprites, the talking furniture, and Harold, who waddled behind you like he was already regretting his involvement.

As Mattheo hopped further into the checkerboard chaos, his laughter echoing around the shimmering room, you followed cautiously, feeling the glowplum’s lingering effects buzz in your veins. The tiles beneath your feet rippled softly, pulsing with a faint, rhythmic light, and the storm sprites above flitted in slow, dreamy arcs like glittering jellyfish in water.

“Alright,” Mattheo called over his shoulder, pointing at the ceiling. “Moment of truth—let’s see some stars!”

You looked up, half expecting the ceiling to transform into an open sky. Instead, it gave a lazy yawn and stretched, as if the enchanted room itself had decided it couldn’t be bothered. “No stars,” you said, trying to hide your relief. “Looks like your grand plan has fizzled out, Riddle.”

“Pfft, give it a second,” Mattheo said, tapping his wand on one of the glowing tiles. “Patience is a virtue, you know.”

“You? Preaching patience? That’s rich,” you retorted, stepping onto a slightly less wobbly tile. “You can’t even wait for toast to pop.”

“Because toast takes forever,” he said, as if this were a universally accepted fact.

Harold waddled up beside you, his glittering tail swishing gently. “For what it’s worth,” he said with a sigh, “this room doesn’t respond to reckless optimism. You’ll need a touch more subtlety if you want results.”

“Subtlety?” Mattheo asked, giving Harold an incredulous look. “We’re standing in a disco-themed fever dream, mate. Subtlety left the building hours ago.”

- ★、

The banter felt light, the sort of easy humor you and Mattheo always fell into, but as the minutes ticked by, you noticed something shifting. The vibrant colors of the tiles began to dim, the glow softening into a muted amber. The storm sprites, once frenetic and zippy, now floated lazily above, their translucent bodies losing their sharp edges. Even Harold seemed less sparkly, his glitter dulled to a faint shimmer.

“Is it just me,” you murmured, “or is the room… calming down?”

Mattheo paused mid-step, frowning. “Yeah, it’s definitely less… sparkly. Maybe it’s winding down.”

Harold let out a knowing hum. “Ah, the glowplum wears off. Happens to the best of us. You’ll be back to your boring, non-sparkly selves soon.”

You shot him a look. “Lovely.”

The tiles beneath your feet stopped rippling, settling into a steady, solid pattern. The enchanted checkerboard began to resemble an actual floor again, though faint traces of its former chaos still glimmered at the edges. You could feel the warm, spicy glow in your chest fading, leaving behind a hollow sort of clarity. The surreal haze was lifting, and with it came the sharp edges of reality.

Mattheo sat down on the now-stable floor, his usual grin replaced by a more subdued expression. “So, uh… that was something.”

“Something is one way to put it,” you said, sitting across from him. Your voice felt clearer, less buoyant, and you realized how much the glowplum had altered your perception. “I think my brain needs a vacation.”

“Mine, too,” he admitted, running a hand through his hair. “But, you know, at least we didn’t end up cursed. Or stuck as furniture. Or eaten by Harold.”

Harold huffed. “I don’t eat people. I have standards.”

“Good to know,” Mattheo said with a faint smile, then looked at you. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” you said softly. “Just… coming back to normal is weird. It feels quieter now.”

“Quieter,” he echoed, leaning back on his hands. “But also kind of nice, right? I mean, no glowing tiles threatening to yeet us into another dimension.”

You chuckled, the sound grounding you. “Yeah. Nice.”

For a while, the two of you just sat there, the room around you returning to its default, neutral state. The armchair had stopped stretching, the storm sprites had vanished entirely, and Harold had curled up in a corner, his cosmic tail dimmed to a gentle flicker. The Room of Requirement felt oddly still, as though it, too, was recovering from the chaos.

Finally, Mattheo broke the silence. “So, uh, we’re never telling anyone about this, right?”

“Not a soul,” you agreed, smirking. “Though I’m keeping Harold as evidence if you ever try to drag me into another one of your ridiculous plans.”

“Fair enough,” Mattheo said with a laugh. Then, after a moment, he added quietly, “Thanks for… putting up with me. Even when I’m a complete idiot.”

You looked at him, surprised by the sincerity in his voice. “You’re not a complete idiot,” you said, your tone softening. “Just… mostly an idiot.”

Mattheo tilted his head at you, that familiar, lopsided grin creeping onto his face. “Mostly an idiot, huh? That’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me all day.”

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. “Well, you’re my idiot, aren’t you?”

His grin softened into something warmer, and for a moment, the absurdity of the evening seemed to melt away. The glowplum haze had faded, but there was still a kind of magic lingering between you, one that had nothing to do with enchanted tiles or sneezing storm sprites.

“Always,” he said, his voice low and teasing, though his expression held a sincerity that made your chest feel a little too tight. “Though I’m starting to think you enjoy the chaos as much as I do.”

You huffed a laugh, leaning back against the now-motionless floor. “Enjoy is a strong word. Survive might be more accurate.”

“Survive?” Mattheo leaned closer, his dark eyes glittering with mischief. “You were thriving in there. Don’t think I didn’t notice you making friends with the talking table.”

“Thriving?” you shot back, raising an eyebrow. “I was this close to hexing you and the table.”

“Exactly,” he said, his grin widening. “Thriving.”

You groaned, but the sound dissolved into laughter as he stretched out beside you, his shoulder brushing against yours. The room was quiet now, save for the faint hum of magic that always seemed to linger at Hogwarts, and for once, it was a peaceful kind of quiet.

“I mean it, though,” he said after a moment, his voice softer now. “Thanks for sticking with me through… whatever that was.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” you murmured, nudging him lightly.

He smirked, but the edges of it softened. “I am, aren’t I?”

You turned to look at him, expecting more teasing, but instead found him gazing at you with that rare, open expression he only ever showed when it was just the two of you. It made your heart twist in that stupid, familiar way it always did when he let his guard down.

“Yeah,” you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper. “You are.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence stretching between you in a way that felt safe and certain. Then, with a lazy grin, Mattheo flopped back dramatically. “Alright, but next time, you’re eating the snack first.”

You laughed, the sound echoing softly in the now-normal room. “Not a chance, Riddle. I’m still recovering from this one.”

“Fine,” he said, grinning up at the ceiling. “But don’t think I won’t keep trying.”

And despite everything, you knew he would—and, if you were honest with yourself, you’d let him. Because chaos with Mattheo, as ridiculous as it always was, felt like home.

[selunesdreams]

Chapter 18: Slow Like Honey

“Why are we going back to the house?” she demanded in front of the kitchen doors. ”Do you think I changed clothes just for fun?”  Lucanis snaked a hand into his pocket to retrieve a key.  “I assure you, you made your impression on that room. You don’t need to torment yourself in a crowd any longer.”  “Do you know how long it took to get into this dress?” He considered her for a moment, eyes sweeping up and down her figure. In a slight stoop, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear.  “If you want help taking it off, you only have to ask.”  A chill ran down her spine, and she found herself unable to come up with a disarming retort. She was usually the one unnerving him.  “Fiammetta, would you…”  He turned the key in the lock, holding the door open for her,  “…like to join me in my room tonight?"

A/N: Well, AO3 is down for maintenence so Tumblr gets this chapter first! I'll edit this post with links later once AO3 is back up.

Pairing: Lucanis x Fem Rook/OFC x Spite???

Summary: No one from House Dellamorte kneels...with exceptions.

Word count: 3.9k

Things of note/warnings: 18+ fic, MDNI! This chapter contains SMUT all CAPS. Warnings for: PiV, oral sex, fingering, inexperienced sex (if you squint because Lucanis can fake it until he makes it) Please read on AO3 if you need to track warnings, they will be inevitably detailed better there (or just want to be real sweet and give me hits/kudos/comments).

─── ⊹⊱♤⊰⊹ ───

“I’ve been looking for you.” 

Lucanis’ hands found her waist just as she stumbled on the final stair at the sound of his voice. Rook blinked in surprise, holding onto his shoulders for balance. 

“It’s these marble floors you Dellamortes love so much.” She grumbled, adjusting her gown around her ankles. 

“Wood creaks too much underfoot, not to mention the way it stains…” he trailed off and arched a brow as he studied her attire. 

“You changed clothes.”

“You haven’t.” She said, observing the dried blood on his perfectly tailored cape. “Are you okay, Lucanis? It seems a little soon to be celebrating something that came at the heel of your cousin’s betrayal. I’m still surprised you spared him. Or that Spite let you.”

“That wasn’t mercy. Illario will never live this down. There’s nowhere he could go to outrun being the traitor Crow, brought down in front of everyone.” He shook his head. “I am fine. I will deal with my cousin later.”

As he spoke, Rook caught sight of several lingering glares from around the room. It was common to be leered at by fellow Crows, but she’d become accustomed to a very particular stare for most of her life. Whether they loathed her or envied her, the faces were all the same: narrowed eyes, hardened scowls, folded arms. 

“Are we Crows or Vultures?” She muttered, “If looks could kill, I’d be dead a hundred times over.”

“Don’t worry about the stares.” Lucanis nodded at a few unfamiliar faces in the crowd. “Nobody would dare make a move after you brought Illario to his knees like that.”

“Some whispers can be as deadly as a thousand cuts.” Rook said, moving to the edge of the room where she wouldn’t have to watch her back. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

Lucanis followed, frowning. “Have I offended you?”

“No, I’m sorry.” She pinched the bridge of her nose. “I shouldn’t take this out on you. It just…gets to me sometimes. You’re a Dellamorte. You get jealous looks, but they come with respect. If another man cut you down, he’d say you were an honorable opponent.”

“The De Riva house is just as honorable-”

“Do you know how it was, for Viago and I? The things people said about our mothers? Two women from poor households chasing notable De Riva men around, trapping them with babies? At least my father married my mother. Viago’s mother did not have it so well. The comments made about him in passing alone…to him…” 

“I remember some things..as a child.”

“I have always had a tainted reputation. When I was young, when my parents had repaired their social standing, people were good. But then my mother died, and my father left the Crows…by the time I returned to the public eye, I was under Viago’s wing. He demanded respect, and I had it by proxy. But when I blew that operation, and then abandoned Treviso, I looked like a deserter. Just like my father.” 

“You took a contract. You are no deserter.”

“I moved against a member of house Dellamorte in his own home tonight.”

“On my behalf-”

“Yes. And I have the ear of the new First Talon I helped rise to power. ” Rook said, angling her head towards a group of sneering young women on their left. “To them, I’m an opportunist.” 

“I think the gossip may be about me.” Lucanis grinned and leaned in close. “See the one in the middle? I declined an invitation to her bed just before you came down that staircase.

Rook admonished herself for the prick of jealousy stinging her skin. Lucanis Dellamorte did not belong to her. And as First Talon, it was unsurprising that every eligible Crow in the room would want to be on his arm.  

“Do you get those kinds of invitations often?” She asked, attempting to sound impassive. 

“Only when I bother to show my face in public. I’ve never been interested.” He replied casually, “You can’t tell me it’s not the same for you?”

“I think Viago’s scowling keeps most potential suitors away…”

“Perhaps it’s a good thing your cousin is so busy keeping my cousin in line, then?”

Lucanis nodded toward the doors, smiling.

“Shall we make a discreet exit?”

“This will surely fix my reputation problem.” Rook muttered. “Are you sure you should leave? They’re celebrating you.”

“I have other plans for celebrating this evening.” He said as he escorted her to the gardens. “Come. Escape prying eyes and get some air with me.”

While he held open an ornate side door for her to step through, he made certain they weren’t being followed before ducking out after her.

“So. First Talon. Does that mean you’ll be leaving us?” Rook asked, wandering towards an easement overlooking the water. 

“No. We have a contract.” Lucanis joined her, bracing his palms on the railing. “Besides. She may have stepped down, but there’s no stopping Caterina from giving all the orders.”

“Right.” she pursed her lips and lowered her gaze. “I could be crossing a line here, but…you never wanted to be First Talon, did you? Why don’t you tell Caterina no?”

“You are crossing a line, but I’d never consider you a trespasser. My secrets are your secrets.” 

“Are you going to answer my question, then?”

He glanced at the opera house out of the corner of his eye.

“Later. This is a dangerous conversation to be had in Caterina’s garden.”

Rook nodded, watching the gondolas in the distance rock atop the current underneath. Lucanis eased himself onto his elbows, stretching his legs long behind him as the wind tousled his hair.

“So, what were you and my grandmother discussing?” He asked, staring at his hands. 

“We just sat in silence and watched you brood from the window.”

“Mierda. Must I suffer both of you?”

“Why suffer me at all? You’ve just been promoted far over my head.”

Lucanis scoffed. “I think you forget I’m the one in your service.”

“Right. Until your contract is over.” Rook huffed, her breath rising in the cold.

“You’ll have me for as long as I can put off the Crows.” Lucanis pushed himself up straight, removing his cloak and draping it over her shoulders. “Perhaps I could convince you to return here with me when I can’t put them off any longer.” 

Rook drew the cloak tighter around herself, suppressing a shiver. 

“I’m not sure…I left with Varric to hunt the Dread Wolf. When it’s all over, I’m not sure what-”

Lucanis reached for her chin, delicately tilting it towards him. 

“You don’t have to explain yourself. Regardless of your answer, I don’t need it today.” 

He released her and stepped back with a wink. 

“Just think about it, mm?”

Rook forced a smile as he offered his hand, allowing him to lead her toward the main villa. She dropped her cheek to his shoulder as they moved through the gardens, the grass swiping at the hem of her dress.

“Why are we going back to the house?” she demanded in front of the kitchen doors. ”Do you think I changed clothes just for fun?” 

Lucanis snaked a hand into his pocket to retrieve a key. 

“I assure you, you made your impression on that room. You don’t need to torment yourself in a crowd any longer.” 

“Do you know how long it took to get into this dress?”

He considered her for a moment, eyes sweeping up and down her figure. In a slight stoop, his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. 

“If you want help taking it off, you only have to ask.” 

A chill ran down her spine, and she found herself unable to come up with a disarming retort. She was usually the one unnerving him. 

“Fiammetta, would you…” 

He turned the key in the lock, holding the door open for her, 

“…like to join me in my room?” 

Lucanis’ apprehension was palpable, but he pulled enough confidence from within himself to charm her with the flirtatious mask he’d been trying on. It could have been the rapport growing between them, or shared trauma, or Illario becoming a thorn in both their sides, or even leftover adrenaline from earlier in the evening…whatever lingered between them, she was tired of wondering how far it could go. Tonight, she fully intended to find out. 

“Yes.” 

She stepped through the threshold into the villa. The moment she was inside, his hand settled on the small of her back, touch firm even through the thick fabric of his cloak. It felt as if the wind had been knocked out of her as he guided her through the foyer and up the stairs. Rook must have walked this path a thousand times, but now, everything appeared new, hazy. Like she was seeing things for the first time, through fresh eyes. 

A few of the household staff were scrubbing the floors where they’d disposed of the Venatori earlier. And she averted her gaze, flustered, Lucanis quickly pulled her down a secluded hallway to his chambers, shutting and locking the door behind them. 

Not one for flair, Lucanis’ room was plain, unlike Caterina’s. It mirrored his grandmother’s only in layout: a fireplace on the far wall next to the door leading to a private bath, a desk beneath one window, and a wardrobe stationed across from it. A king sized bed with a large canopy occupied the east wall, the sheen of the dark sheets catching in the moonlight that filtered in through the curtains. 

“Just as I left it.” He said, leaving her in the doorway and crouching before the fireplace, arranging wood in the hearth. 

Rook explored the perimeter as he retrieved something from his pocket to use as kindling. His desk was neatly arranged, stacked correspondence well over a year old on one side, while blank pages and ink sat at the ready on the other. Lucanis hadn’t returned to this place since before the Venatori had taken him, yet he acted as if he’d never been away. 

“Is it strange, being back here?”

He huffed bitterly, striking a match on the mantle and bringing it to an edge of a piece of parchment. “The Ossuary was stranger.” 

“This might be the only room in this house I’ve never visited.” Rook mused, running a hand over the duvet. Orlesian silk. Of course. Nicer than the guest suite. 

Lucanis waited for the flaming paper to catch the oak logs before rising from his crouch and crossing the room. 

“You’re always welcome here.” He said in a voice that carried the heaviness of longing and a faint tremor of nervousness. His hands glided along the cape he’d lent her, silently asking permission to remove it. Rook dipped her chin, and he took it off and hung it up in the wardrobe. He lingered there, staring at the ground as he unbuttoned his vest.

“I’d enjoy your company this evening. In whatever capacity you’d find most appealing.” He said, slowly loosening his cravat. “But if this is too much for you, I will happily escort you to the guest room…”

He undressed down to his trousers and undershirt, unlacing his boots and setting them beside the wardrobe. Eyes locked on him as he turned towards her, Rook removed her heels, tossing them aside. They clattered against the hardwood floor, the only sound other than the crackle of the fire. 

From his breast pocket, Lucanis retrieved a small butterfly knife and, with a swift flick of his wrist, freed the blade. 

“Would you like some help with that dress?”

”No cutting!” She threw out a hand in protest. “This is on loan.” 

His nose twitched with amusement, soft adoration gleaming in his eyes. 

“No cutting.” He echoed, setting the knife on the windowsill and stepping behind her. His fingers brushed hers, shooing them away as he untied the gown’s back. Rook stood, unmoving, as he worked. 

“It’s been a long time for me, Lucanis. Since I-“

“I’m not worried about that.” He tugged the corset’s final ribbon loose. “Would you like a change of clothes? I can try to find you something more comfortable.”

The dress relaxed around Rook’s waist, and she spared a look over her shoulder, meeting Lucanis’ eyes as she let the gown pool at her feet. She’d chosen to forgo a bustier underneath, and stood before him only in her underwear, leaving little to the imagination. 

It seemed to work in her favor. 

“This is fine.” She said, stepping forward to loosen the top button of his shirt. 

Lucanis’ cheeks bore a slight hint of red as he averted his gaze. 

“I don’t do this, Rook.” He said hoarsely. 

Her fingers paused on the second clasp. “Do what?”

“I don’t get close. I don’t allow myself to feel…” 

She rocked forward on her toes, tugging him down by his collar and kissing him chastly. The tension in Lucanis’ shoulders disappeared, and he reached to cup her cheek in his palm as he pulled away. His head tilted to the side as he stared at her, looking like a man in complete agony. 

He looked like a man in love. 

“You are so beautiful.” His thumb traced the structure of her face with wonder. “People stare too often and do not speak it enough.”

Crooking his index finger under her chin, he brought her lips to ghost against his. 

“I think about you all the time, Fiammetta. To be with you in this way…it is a privilege.” 

He kissed her ardently, letting his hand slide to her jaw, thumb caressing her cheek. She gave in, hands roaming the back of his shirt, clutching in the fabric there as he held her by her elbows, guiding her gently backwards. The bed creaked  beneath their shared weight as he climbed on top of her, and Rook blindly fumbled with the buttons of his shirt again. Lucanis’ fingers met hers to assist, deftly pulling apart each clasp and sliding it off behind him. Without breaking the kiss, he crawled forward, pressing her deeper into the mattress. 

“If this is moving too fast-”

She shook her head, hair splayed around her on the sheets. “Maker, no, no. I just-”

“Perhaps I don’t have the resume of your previous lovers, but I promise-”

Rook touched a finger to his lips, cutting him off. 

“I’m not worried about that.” She said, echoing his words from earlier. 

He claimed her mouth with his own in a kiss messier, hungrier than the last. No longer filled with doubt or hesitation, he was exploring freely. Starved to touch her, and to be touched in return. 

Rook’s hands moved lower, palming at the seam where his arousal throbbed against his trousers, and Lucanis groaned. 

“Slow down, Rook.” He chuckled, sliding to the floor and staring up at her reverently.

“I want to take my time with you.”

This was the second occasion she’d brought a Dellamorte to their knees tonight. 

Slowly, he reached up the length of her legs before grasping her thighs, spreading them apart and tugging her closer, pressing a soft kiss over the front of her panties. One finger hooked under the hem, and he pulled them aside, running his thumb down her center. He hummed pleasantly at the slickness he found there.

“May I?” He asked under lowered eyelids. Speechless, she could only nod eagerly. 

With a smirk, he tugged her underwear down and abandoned them on the floor behind him. With a ragged breath, he dove between her thighs, dragging his tongue flat against her and drawing an exploratory, teasing line upward in one deliberate sweep.

Rook bucked her hips, whining desperately for contact, and he shifted his weight back with a wicked grin.

“Fiammetta…patience…” he grasped her roughly under the ribcage and pushed her against the pillows as he joined her on the bed. “I want this to be good for you.”

Settled on his stomach, he spread her before him once again, hands sliding down to secure her in place. His tongue briefly dipped inside of her, drawing up towards her clit and working it expertly in circles with his tongue. Soft grunts and moans from Lucanis reverberated through her as his fingers dug into her thighs. Rook held her breath, hands searching to weave through his long, dark locks as she squeezed her eyes shut. He groaned with approval as she tugged his hair at the roots, and she glanced down to find his gaze fixed on her face as his mouth worked against her, assessing her pleasure. Worshipping her. Something about the sight made her even more frantic to touch him, to be touched by him. 

He withdrew, staring at her naked form appreciatively before planting a kiss on each inner thigh. Curiosity, he inserted his middle finger inside of her, mouth slightly parted in a taunting half smirk as she writhed in response, spewing nonsense phrases between moans, begging for him to use his mouth on her again.

“That’s it…” he murmured, inserting a second finger, obliging the demand of her hips and drawing his tongue to the most sensitive part of her clit, lingering there until he provoked a telltale whimper that encouraged him to keep his focus upon that particular spot. 

Rook yanked a pillow from beside her, biting into the silk to muffle her urge to scream his name. The staff in the hall would already be spreading rumors by morning. She wasn’t adding fuel to the fire. If Viago caught wind that they’d snuck off together, he’d kill them both. Maybe even personally. 

Lucanis tracked her every movement from below, his free hand abandoning her thigh to squeeze the curve of her waist, dragging down over her stomach, fingers digging into the soft flesh there as Rook’s belly coiled tightly with a telltale burn. 

She sank into the sensation, chasing her orgasm over the edge until a cry caught in her throat, reduced to a muffled squeak of pleasure as she turned her head, burying her face in the pillow again. Lucanis remained between her legs, continuing at his set pace until her sex spasmed and pulsated with overstimulation. 

He swept his thumb across his lips, sitting on his heels.

“Do you always have such trouble keeping still, or am I special?” 

Rook pulled a pillow from behind her and threw it at his face. Lucanis deflected it and crawled over her, kissing her softly. She could taste herself on his tongue as the outline in his trousers throbbed against her thigh.

“You’re very good at that.” She panted.

“I’ve found in my line of work that enthusiasm is key to doing anything well.” He said smugly, “plus, Bellara has been loaning me some very intriguing novellas.” 

“Oh? Have you been studying them?”

“I know I said you were welcome to my secrets, but allow me to keep just a few, mm?”

He glanced across the room and rolled off the bed, unbuttoning his trousers hesitantly. Concerned by his distant stare, Rook took a pillow and hugged it to her chest, suddenly feeling overexposed. 

“Is something the matter?”

Lucanis swallowed, avoiding her gaze.

“So much of my life has been work, killing…I have not had time for entanglements or intimacy. Now that I’ve found it with you, I…” 

He drug a hand down his face, keeping a palm over his mouth as he let out an exasperated stream of air through his nose. 

“Mierda, look at you!” He tore his hand away, gesturing at her naked form. “I don’t even know where to begin.”

“What you just did was a pretty good start.” 

Lucanis held her gaze for several beats of silence, unphased by her words, before releasing his hold on the waistband of his trousers, letting them fall to his thighs, all his intent there for her to see, hard and wanting. With a hungry kiss, she felt him brush against her thigh as he crawled over her. He reached down, pumping himself, the slickness gathered between her legs seeping onto his fingers.  

“Rook...” He let his head drop back as he entered her slowly.

Her breath hitched, nails digging into his shoulder blades as she adjusted to the size of him. She arched her back and rolled her hips against his, and Lucanis sucked in a sharp inhale through his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut. 

“Maker, Fiammetta! If you do that, I don’t know how long I can-”

The Demon of Vyrantium was begging. Whining her name. This might prove to be her most successful night as a Crow, yet. 

A strangled noise of pleasure escaped him as she kissed down the length of his clavicle. He thrust at a slow, controlled pace, arms trembling next to her. One hand sliding between their bodies, Rook drug her fingertips across his stomach, smirking as his abdomen twitched in response.

Lucanis gasped, pressing his forehead to her shoulder and choking out a litany of Antivan curses as he watched himself move against her. His thrusts became more disjointed, and how he maintained such an adoring demeanor while fucking her like this was a mystery. 

Rook moaned as he drove himself into her with more force. She leaned forward and nipped at his collarbone, keeping her mouth there and sucking hard enough to leave a bruise to admire the following morning. Lucanis’ knuckles turned white as his hands fisted in the sheets on either side of her.

With a desperate groan, he spilled himself inside of her, collapsing onto his elbows and weaving his fingers through her hair. He kept his lips pressed to hers through his orgasm, until he stilled, resting his forehead on her shoulder as he caught his breath. 

“Mierda.” He panted, pressing his face into the crook of her neck and shuddering with a low, contented chuckle. “You truly will be the death of me.”

“You think Spite could give you a good night’s sleep after that?” 

“He seems amenable to the idea,” He purred in her ear, his lips leaving a trail of goosebumps where they brushed her skin. “if you’re staying.” 

He carefully pulled out and collapsed at her side, their bodies sweaty and spent. Tracing his fingertips over the curve of her hip, his eyes seemed to quiver as he searched her face. 

“I believe I might fear this night slipping through my grasp more than a knife to the back.”

The brown of his irises warmed in the firelight, a comfort she longed to get lost in. Something gnawed at the base of her throat, leaving her insides hollow, and she shuddered.

“I’m scared.” she rasped suddenly.

Lucanis’ hold on her loosened. “Of me?”

“Of everything.” She whispered, “But…not you. Not like you think.”

The mattress dipped under his weight as he moved closer, snaking one arm under her waist and the other over her middle. He pulled her against his chest, burying his face in her neck. 

“Burn my contract. I’ll kill anyone you ask me to - god or man - if it keeps you safe.”