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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 years ago

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I posted 2,092 times in 2022

That's 2,092 more posts than 2021!

41 posts created (2%)

2,051 posts reblogged (98%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@romanarose

@wysteria-clad

@eyelessfaces

@pleasurebuttonwrites

@bit-dodgy-innit

I tagged 1,616 of my posts in 2022

Only 23% of my posts had no tags

#fanfic - 692 posts

#thank you so much for writing this! - 653 posts

#moon knight - 587 posts

#♥️♥️♥️ - 379 posts

#steven grant - 337 posts

#lovely writer replies! - 287 posts

#marc spector - 269 posts

#jake lockley - 207 posts

#poe dameron - 108 posts

#smut - 89 posts

Longest Tag: 125 characters

#jake: also i broke your favourite vase i'm sorry what's that you forgive me great i'm so glad <- this omg im laughing so much

My Top Posts in 2022:

Do you want to dance?

Steven Grant X Reader

Rating: T

Warnings: My first time writing a fanfic in centuries! One F bomb!

A/N: Oh my gosh, I've actually written something! This is for @littleferal 's Writers' Iron Chef! (No. 1 Prompt: Slow Dancing & Additional Prompt: "Are you flirting with me?” + "You finally noticed?") 30 min time limit was kept to (this was so difficult! Such a rush at the end!) I read it over after, and fixed 2 typos I could see - there are probably more! No Y/N. Reader's gender is never stated.

Summary: Steven goes to a coworkers enagement party and runs into you.

Word Count: 780

Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

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To say it seemed like a dream was unreasonable. At least in a dream there was some kind of internal logic, some notion in that unawake state that what was happening made sense somehow.

This was just unreal. Scratch that. This was too good to be true. But Steven was sure that if he had been asleep his utter disbelief would have woken him.

Grace, in admin who he had never actually met face to face, had invited the entirety of the museum staff to her engagement party and apparently from the lavish looks of things she was marrying a millionaire.

There were so many people that Steven was sure it would give the seating at Wembley a run for its money.

He had made some general chit chat, feeling out of place at first, and kept an eye out for Donna so he could make a quick escape. However his boss never appeared, if fact he didn’t run into anyone he really knew at all. And it was wonderful.

Everyone seemed more than happy to talk to him and he slowly slipped into a kind of ease he hadn’t experienced in a long time.

That was until he heard your voice.

“Steven!”

It was like a shot of adrenaline directly into his heart.

He turned quickly to see you. “Hello.” His voice was meek, unlike himself as he took in your outfit.

“I’m so glad to see you, I was hoping you’d be here somewhere!” You reached out to hug him and his mind short circuited for a moment. Dial up internet trying to download an image.

He shook his head, quickly smiled back and accepted your embrace while carefully manoeuvring the drink in his hand. “You were? I mean, it’s really good to see you, yeah.” You smelt like banana shampoo and floral perfume. Somehow intoxicating and complimenting at the same time. If he could just stay and breathe that scent in forever.

The hug ended too soon.

He stared for a long moment as you broke apart, the sound of his heartbeat was louder than the live band playing, than all the broken conversations echoing around.

“How’s restoration going?” Steven said quickly.

“Yeah, okay,” you pulled a face. “How’s the gift shop? I never see you around anymore?”

“Oh, yeah,” Steven gave you a sheepish smile. “Well, you know…”

Your face dropped.

“I mean,” there had been a time, a month or so ago, you had seen each other almost every day. You popping by the gift shop either before or at the end of your shift if Steven was working to say hi. Him dropping by your offices and the restoration workplaces.

Listening to you talk about and show him what you were working on had brightened his day to no end.

And then…

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95 notes - Posted July 12, 2022

Egg Fried Rice

Marc Spector X F!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Summary: Out of the three of them, Marc had met your mother last.

Warnings: Angst & fluff. Mentions of previous abuse (Wendy Spector) but doesn't go into detail. Typos - I am notoriously bad at catching them. Swearing.

A/N: I've used corvase's 'lovely little domestic prompts: “your mom is coming over today.” “tell her to bring fried rice or she’s not invited.” “you tell her, she’s your mom.” “but she likes you more!”' - and it ended up being a lot more angsty than I inteaded. I changed the prompt words a touch as well. Steven & Jake make a little appearance too.

Word Count: 1689

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites

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You had been in the shower when your phone rang. It was on silent, as usual, but by chance the light caught Marc’s attention as he put the clean laundry away.

The display read ‘Mum’.

He swallowed, a flash of nerves hitting him for a second before he pushed them away. He could just wait it out, pretend he didn’t see it.

The soft material of a pair of your fuzzy socks in his hand suddenly became much heavier; the cartoon duck on the side no longer looked friendly. There was a judgemental tone in its eyes.

“Fuck you.” He narrowed his eyes and hissed at the cartoon, the absurdity enough to bring a small smile to his face.

Quickly, without giving himself too much time to really think about it, he grabbed your phone and answered the call.

“Hello!” Your mum’s voice was like sunshine itself.

“Hi, it’s-”

“Marc! Ah! How lovely to get you!”

He grinned broadly, warmth bubbling up in his chest. She recognised his voice. Straight away she recognised his voice.

“I was wondering if I could pop by today? I have a little something for you all.”

Your mother knew all three of them, but her first meeting with Marc had been almost five months after she had met Steven and Jake.

It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted to meet her, he did, it was just... difficult. Panic spiked up in his spine and made him sick whenever the arranged date to introduce himself grew close.

His alters’ voices constantly in his ear. “She’s so lovely.” “You’ll get on well with her hermano.” “She’s nothing like-”

It hadn’t mattered. He had chickened out four times. The third when he was in the car with you outside of your mother’s house. He just couldn’t. Couldn’t. Had checked out and left it to Steven and Jake.

He would stay away for days, the worst being the second occasion when he didn’t front for nearly two weeks afterwards and had refused to speak to Jake or Steven. Even staying quiet when Steven had said he would let Jake grow a moustache if Marc didn’t say something.

When Marc finally did front he had refused to talk about it. Point blank. Not to Steven, not to Jake, not to you. He knew that made it worse.

It had caused more than one internal and external argument.

You had tried to bring it up carefully, calmly, telling Marc that there was no need to rush, he hadn’t caused any offence, that he didn’t even need to meet your mother if he didn’t want to.

But instead of staying quiet, nodding, or any of the countless peaceful options Marc had gone into defensive mode. Unable to explain his fears even though you knew about Wendy, unable to accept your kindness and care and love when he was so sure he didn’t deserve it. He wanted your anger.

“Oh, so you don’t want me to meet your Mom then?”

His tone had taken you by surprise even before his words had registered. “Marc that’s...” you shook your head, playing back what you had said, checking for how your words could have been misunderstood. “I didn’t mean that, I-”

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118 notes - Posted August 28, 2022

Cariño (Part 1) Jake Lockley X F!Reader

[Part 2]

Rating: 18+ (this chapter is clean, but it's gonna get a bit steamy later on!)

Warnings: Swearing (can I write anything without profanity? No.) Pining. Terrible Spanish.

A/N: Okay, so this story acutally has a plan to it! (Whhhaattt?) Also please let me know if you think I have missed a warning!

Summary: You’re pretty good at procuring hard to find items for others, for the correct price. So when Jake Lockley hires you to steal an Egyptian artefact it should all be plain sailing. Right?

Word Count: 2403

Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

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You didn’t have any ice and kind of felt a little apprehensive about putting a bag of frozen cauliflower on your face.

So you’d settled for some folded up kitchen roll that you’d run under the tap, wrung out and shoved in the fridge for ten minutes. And two prescription painkillers that were meant to be for migraines.

The plan had been to go straight to bed until there had been a familiar, and distinctive, knock at the door.

You sighed, a little more than annoyed at the timing. Maybe if it had been anyone else you would have just ignored it. Gone to bed. Ignored them. Or blatantly yelled for them to ‘fuck off’.

Another knock.

You grimaced a little as you removed your makeshift ice pack and paused over the bin before you stuck it back in the fridge.

You grimaced more as you caught sight of your reflection in the kitchen window. The darkness outside didn’t take the edge off the lovely bruise and swelling on your right cheek.

Maybe he wouldn’t mention it.

Maybe pigs would fly.

You opened the door halfway through the third knock, not bothering to look through the peep hole into the hallway.

“Hello Jake.” You said in a sing song voice, stepping slightly to the side as you held the door for him to come in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Any hopes you had of him just walking in and politely ignoring your cheek’s condition quickly evaporated.

His eyes bored into you, fixated on the right side of your face. You fought the urge to squirm under his scrutiny.

“Mierda.” Shit. He muttered. Your Spanish was awful, but you got that one.

He clenched his jaw, his whole-body tense. Well, tenser than usual, there had never been a time you had actually seen him completely relaxed. He didn’t seem the sort. Probably slept standing up.

Jake kept looking at you and there was a familiar heart rising up your neck. You turned quickly; you weren’t going to blush in front of his stupidly hansom face- no not hansom. Just… Ugh.

You let go of the door and walked further in, heading for the living room.

There was a thud from behind as Jake quickly stepped in and closed the door behind him.

“Who the fuck did that?” His accent was heavier than usual.

You gave him a small glance over your shoulder but didn’t break your stride. “Does it matter?”

He said something in Spanish, so fast that you couldn’t differentiate the words. Whatever it was, it wasn’t polite.

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124 notes - Posted July 25, 2022

The Boy with the Thorn in his Side

Steven Grant X F!Reader Rating: T Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Warnings: SELF-INDULGENT WARNING, creepy dude following reader, lovey dovey syndrome, fluff, pinning, TYPOS, please let me know if I've missed a warning!

A/N: ahhhhahahaha, sorry I couldn't get this out of my mind. Set in ep 1 when Steven has just realised he has missed his date. No y/n.

Summary: Steven Grant’s day is going poorly to say the least. He’s lost days, missed his date and now a stranger has sat down opposite him who seems to know him? It would be nice if our favourite Gift-Shopist could catch a break.

Word Count: 3747

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites

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“It doesn’t change the fact that today is Sunday, which means lose my number. Cheers.”

“But-”

The line went dead.

Steven stared at his phone. This was, this didn’t- The date on the screen said Friday. He couldn’t have lost two whole days. He-

“Hi!”

Your voice snapped his attention back to the seat in front of him as you sat down hurriedly.

“Sorry I’m late! It’s so good to see you!” You were speaking a fraction too loud and Steven had never seen you before in his life.

A frown began to form on his features, knitting his eyebrows together. He wasn’t sure if he could take one more thing today, first Gus, then two missing days and now whatever the hell this was.

“I’m sorry b-”

“There’s a guy,” you had turned your head to the side and placed your hand on your cheek to hide your mouth while you pretended to look at the menu. Your voice a whisper and it was only now that Steven could hear the wobble in it, see the slight shake in your fingers.

“He, I don’t know, I think he was- is following me. Since- it doesn’t matter, he- I just cut through the alley and this was the first place I saw that was open, and I mean, I could be really misunderstanding everything and just overreacting and, I’m so sorry, I saw the empty seat and I just thought that, maybe he would, you know, if I was with someone, I didn’t want to cause a scene and,” the words just tumbled out and bled together in a mess.

Your heartbeat thumped so hard in your chest that it was making you lightheaded.

Steven’s frown deepened as he looked over your shoulder to the alleyway you had just rushed through.

This was so stupid. No one was following you, and you’ve just made a massive fool out of-

“Blue jacket? Stupid white trainers?”

A small panicked smile sprung to your lips without your control and you nodded furiously.

You didn’t want to look behind and check. You really didn’t. But it seemed your body had other ideas.

One quick glance told you that you had been right. The guy was just standing there on the opposite side of the road. Looking directly at you.

Tightness gripped at your throat.

Moral disgust suddenly overwhelmed all other thoughts in Steven’s brain. This was not on. He straightened his back without thinking, hands on the table as if he intended to stand.

“Hey, what do you think you’re doing mate?” His voice sounded stern, intimidating even. “Just going around following people, yeah?”

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127 notes - Posted August 16, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

How (Part 1)

[Part 2]

Nathan Bateman X F!Reader Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?

Summary: After the events of the film, it’s decided that it’s best for everyone if Nathan has a babysitter.

Warnings: swearing, typos, fragment sentences, soft!Nathan, mental illness, PTSD, overuse of italics, panic attacks, brief illusion to suicide. There’s no smut in this, but there will be in part 2.

A/N: What is this? What is this? Self indulgent. That’s what it is. This was meant to be a short under 1000 words instead of this monstrosity that is now two parts. All I can say is this really got away from me.

Word Count: 5431

Taglist: @pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem

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If there was one thing you wouldn’t have believed prior was that Nathan Bateman: founder of Bluebook, recluse, and self-aggrandising arsehole, was a cuddler. And a pretty needy one at that.

You had noticed it well before the two of you had started a less than professional side to your relationship.

Small things: his arm brushing against yours if you sat or stood next to each other, he would touch your hand (usually holding it for a second longer than necessary) if you passed him something, pats on the back and nudges with his shoulder in the kitchen as he said ‘good morning’.

He wasn’t that much of an arsehole either. Annoying? Certainly. God complex? For sure. But you were surprised at how considerate he was. What did you want for dinner? What were your plans for the day? Would you have time to check something over? – even though it was technically part of your job to help him.

You had started a small experiment of your own. Arguing internally that it was out of nothing more than professional interest. A hand on his shoulder when you spoke his name, resting your knee against his at the dining table, little things. But boy did they have a big reaction.

A shudder, a slight softening of his eyes, a lean into your touch. And that was it, wasn’t it? Nathan Bateman was touch starved. End of story.

And you couldn’t help but push it.

You had laid your legs on him on the settee while he was watching television and you were pretending to read a book. Your calves resting on the middle of his thighs.

You had expected him to tell you to ‘fuck off’. Expected him to push your legs away. And, in all honesty, you kind of wanted that. Wanted to piss him off. He’d been bordering on the very fine line of Acceptable Annoying Nathan and Genuine Bastard all day.

The cherry on top being the tiny sideways looks he gave you while purposefully turning the television sound up every few minutes as you did your very best to ignore him.

But he didn’t do any of that. Didn’t even say anything, just froze and, for a second, a pang of fear dripped like warming ice down your spine.

You’d gone too far, you should-

He placed his hand on your shin, the warmth of his fingers seeping through your trousers. It was a light, but reassuring touch. Grounding almost. After a minute he began to trace small circles with his thumb, after another, he turned the television down to a more reasonable level.

Neither of you commented on it.

A few evenings later you threw your arm over the back of the settee when you heard him come into the room. Quickly relaxing back into your best impression of carefree before he came into your line of sight.

Again, you expected him to act a certain way. A sarcastic comment, purposefully sitting somewhere else and glaring. But instead he flopped down next to you, on the edge of a little too close, his arms loosely crossed and lent his head back, brushing his shortly cropped hair against your lower arm as he closed his eyes.

Neither of you commented on it.

The next day he got drunk. Not a completely unusual occurrence, but in the whole time you’d been staying with him he normally drank with you, or, at least, around you.

This time he simply appeared in the living room, obviously more than a little tipsy but seemingly not as intoxicated as he was pretending to be.

You were reading, curled up at the far end of the settee.

He sat down, sighing loudly, and nursing a beer. And you thought you’d play along, at least for a bit. See where this goes.

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211 notes - Posted November 1, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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orange-peony · 2 years ago

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I posted 1,328 times in 2022

That's 179 more posts than 2021!

89 posts created (7%)

1,239 posts reblogged (93%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@artsyunderstudy

@crazybutgood

@rockingrobin69

@facewithoutheart

@bubble-gumhead

I tagged 1,323 of my posts in 2022

#drarry fanart - 259 posts

#snowbaz - 165 posts

#drarry fic recs - 159 posts

#😍😍😍 - 157 posts

#co fanart - 124 posts

#snowbaz fanart - 116 posts

#hp fanart - 103 posts

#my writing - 95 posts

#writing - 77 posts

#omg - 75 posts

Longest Tag: 83 characters

#i also just received a really long comment on why the first chapter of my fic sucks

My Top Posts in 2022:

Happy birthday @ihopeyoubothstaysafefromharm !!! 🎉🥳🎂

Here's a little something for you, because you're wonderful and your beautiful art brightens up my days. 600 words on soulmates, rated T.

"Do you believe in soulmates?" Draco asks, and Harry's reply doesn't come as a surprise, not really.

"Absolutely not," Harry declares without turning. He stirs the pasta sauce and smacks his lips in satisfaction after tasting it.

Draco can see the explosion of colours in the sky from the kitchen window. His tiny kitchen feels warm and cosy, and his heart flutters like a little bird when Harry turns to smile at him. Merlin, Draco loves this man so much that sometimes it feels like his heart can't possibly contain all the feelings he has for him.

"How come?" Draco insists, because he loves hearing about Harry's opinion on pretty much anything.

"I believe we make our own destiny," Harry says, grabbing a few leaves from Draco's basil plant and chucking them into the sauce. "I don't think magic or predestination have anything to do with love."

It reminds Draco of that thing he read in a Muggle library, about Homo faber suae quisque fortunae. Every man is the artisan of his own destiny.

"What about prophecies?" Draco asks.

Harry snorts, grabbing a pan from the drying rack and filling it with tap water.

He looks absolutely gorgeous in Draco's kitchen, as if he belonged in his miniature Muggle flat with all the pot plants and the colourful rugs Draco bought at Camden Market.

"I believe you make of them what you want," Harry replies.

Draco doesn't tell him about the prophecy that was made about him when he was born. That an old witch predicted Draco would lose everything, only to gain one thing that would be more important than all the rest. Draco knows with every fibre of his being that the prophecy meant Harry, but he doesn't say it.

He strokes the warm fur of the cat asleep on his lap instead, and Oatmilk purrs in contentment. Draco stretches his legs under the table, and Vanilla plays with the red pompoms of his slippers, her paw touching them carefully and making Draco smile.

"So you don't believe that people are meant to find each other?" Draco murmurs, but what he actually wants to ask is if Harry doesn't believe they're destined to be together.

"We choose who we want to be with," Harry insists, turning to look him straight in the eyes. His gaze is so intense that Draco feels a flush colouring his own cheeks. "I chose you, Draco. And I choose to be with you every day of my life."

"Hmm," Draco mumbles, because he's this close to saying those three little words he's never said to anyone. They've never felt as real as they feel now with Harry.

He imagines a red thread connecting his little finger to Harry's, linking them by destiny or love or whatever biggest force rules the universe.

"Draco, we're together because we are…" Harry starts, his face turning crimson, and Draco is worried he might say something dreadful like sexually compatible or shagging like rabbits all the time, but Harry moves closer, interlacing their fingers together and bringing Draco's hand to his lips to kiss it tenderly. "We are…I mean, at least I am…I didn't mean to presume - Merlin's pants on fire, why is this so bloody hard?"

Draco stares at him, his eyes widening in understanding as Harry's ears turn red.

"I love you," Draco says softly. "So much."

Harry's smile blooms on his face, making his eyes crinkle at the corners and his eyes shine so bright.

"I love you too," he says before leaning closer for a kiss that tastes like basil and sunsets and love.

239 notes - Posted March 21, 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompt "shock".

"I used to miss you over the summer," Draco says, a whisper in the darkness.

Harry sits up in bed, opening the curtains of his four-poster bed to reveal Draco's prone body, a slither of moonlight illuminating his scarred face and neck. He's staring at the ceiling, avoiding Harry's burning gaze.

"Come again?" Harry blurts out, his mouth suddenly dry.

He must have misheard.

His body is still thrumming with the feeling of Draco's warm skin against his. His lips tingle at the memory of Draco's soft mouth and desperate gasps when they kissed a mere hour ago.

It was all so sudden and unexpected, and Harry's still so confused. He doesn't know what to make of the storm in his stomach and the overwhelming need to cross the room and kiss Draco again, all over his body this time, tracing every inch of that milky white skin with his lips.

"I used to miss you," Draco murmurs, "all day, every day. The Manor was hot, and Father used to give me tasks to do, books to read, lessons on etiquette, but all I could do was think about you, wondering where you were and what you were doing."

There's a moment of silence that stretches for longer than Harry thinks possible.

"Really?" he asks, dumbfounded, because Draco must be joking. Maybe the kiss was a joke too, Harry thinks with a lump in his throat. Maybe it's all just a prank.

"You would be so skinny come September," Draco remembers, and Harry closes his eyes, trying to push back the memories of an empty stomach and an even emptier heart. "I would lie in my bed and wonder if you were eating enough, if you were on secret missions with Dumbledore and you couldn't find any food."

"My Muggle relatives never gave me enough to eat," Harry confesses, and he doesn't know why he feels so embarrassed admitting it. He's past thinking it was his fault, but it still feels so wrong.

"Oh," Draco breathes out, finally turning around to stare at Harry, his eyes big in the dimly lit room.

"C'mere," Harry mutters, and for a moment he thinks Draco will tell him to fuck off, but then he's getting up, moving fast and falling into Harry's arms as if he belonged there, face buried in the crook of Harry's neck.

"You smell nice," he says, words muffled against Harry's skin.

"I…" Harry starts, swallowing loudly. "I used to miss you too. Everything felt so empty without school, without my friends, without…your eyes searching for mine across the Great Hall."

"Yes," Draco confirms. "And no one was following me around."

Harry chuckles, pressing a tentative kiss on Draco's forehead.

"Attention seeking brat," he murmurs fondly.

"I'm just a fool in love," Draco replies.

327 notes - Posted May 19, 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompts "rumor" and "pink".

"Mildred, look!" a woman says. "It's him again, on the cover of Witch Weekly. Isn't he gorgeous?"

"He's so hot," her friend replies wistfully, and Draco tries extremely hard not to roll his eyes, but it's the thirtieth wix to make inappropriate comments about that stolen photo of Harry in his swimming trunks this week.

Draco readjusts the glasses on his nose and keeps on arranging books for the display on queer wizarding literature. He's wearing horn-rimmed glasses today, black on the outside and pink on the inside. He would have never gone for that colour, fearing people's reactions, but Harry said they looked good on him, that he could get a matching pair, red on the inside. And Draco had to agree, because he's become a bloody softie.

"I bet he's on a secret Auror mission," the woman named Mildred says with a sigh. "He said he left the Forces a year ago, but I didn't believe him."

"I heard a rumour that he's working with the Unspeakables," her friend murmurs.

Draco doesn't tell them that Harry spends his days tending to the garden, baking bread and cakes for Draco and reading on the sofa.

"Have you heard about his most recent love affair?" Mildred asks. "His new flame is a beautiful blonde witch apparently."

Draco clears his throat and frowns. He wouldn't call himself a new flame. They've been married for five years. And he's certainly not a witch, for Merlin's sake, but it's not like he's going to tell them.

"I bet he's a stallion in bed," one of the witches whispers. "Rumour has it that he can go on for hours."

Draco doesn't say that sometimes Harry doesn't feel like having sex for weeks, but that he's always up for a cuddle.

He doesn't say that he spends his days waiting for Draco to come home from work, and then his smile is so radiant when Draco Apparates that it still makes Draco's stomach do an odd little backflip.

He doesn't tell them that they're happy together, in spite of their past and their nightmares.

That Harry loves him more than Draco thought anyone ever could.

He stands in front of them, smiles politely and asks, "Are you going to pay for that magazine now that you've drooled all over it? I would like to close the shop and go home to my lovely husband."

"I bet he's an ugly wanker like him," Mildred hisses as she leaves the shop.

Draco can't help but laugh.

409 notes - Posted February 21, 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompt “fool”.

Draco has never been kissed.

He’s twenty-fucking-two and has never been kissed.

And yes, it's probably foolish of him to hope it might happen this evening, at Madam Malkin's Grand Reopening Gala, but Potter looks like a walking wet dream in those shimmering blue robes Draco picked and tailored for him.

"Eyes up here, darling," Pandy reminds him.

Easy for her to say - her lipstick's all smeared after Ginevra snogged her silly in the restroom earlier.

"You could simply ask him to dance, you know?" Blaise drawls, sipping on his drink, but Draco huffs in irritation.

Because he's twenty-two, gay as a rainbow, stupidly in love with Harry Potter and has never been kissed.

And why would Potter even consider dancing with him, let alone kiss him?

"I'm off," he declares, summoning his cloak and ignoring his friends’ dramatic eye rolls.

He has nearly made it to the Floo when a hand wraps around his elbow.

“Malfoy, wait!” Potter calls, his cheeks flushing a deep shade of red when Draco turns around and gapes at him. “I mean…hi, how are you? Fancy s-seeing you here…”

“At my employer’s party?” Draco asks, confused. “She kind of forced me to come.”

“So I heard,” Potter says, then clears his voice, looking even more embarrassed. “Thanks for picking these robes for me. People keep on saying that I look great.”

“I’m sure that’s just because of you. Nothing to do with the robes,” Draco points out, then feels like an utter idiot for saying that out loud.

“No, no,” Potter insists, shaking his head. “I always find wizarding robes uncomfortable and stiff, and Hermione says I walk like a robot penguin, but these…they feel amazing!”

Draco smiles despite himself, proud of the work he’s done. He cast every softening spell under the sun on those robes, eager to make them perfect for Potter.

“I’m glad you like them,” he replies, tilting his head to better appreciate the way they hug Potter’s marvellous figure.

“There’s only one…err…problem,” Potter mumbles, torturing his curls with his fingers and suddenly staring at his feet. “I don’t…I have no idea how to take them off…”

“Oh,” Draco breathes out.

“So, if you could…maybe…” Potter says, moving his hands in the air in a sort of panicky wave. “Show me, you know.”

“Oh.” Draco murmurs, feeling his cheeks on fire, the blush probably spreading to his ears and neck. “Sure.”

“Great!” Potter exclaims, so loudly that a few heads turn in their direction.

Draco barely has the time to register Pansy’s evil grin and Blaise’s thumbs up when Potter grabs his wrist and side-alongs them to a cluttered bedroom decorated in Gryffindor colours.

Potter’s bedroom.

Fuck.

Draco takes a deep breath and tries to remind himself that he needs to stay professional.

Potter just needs help getting out of his robes, nothing weird about that. He grew up as a Muggle, and he doesn’t normally wear intricate formal robes, as he told Draco himself during the fitting.

Deep breath.

Potter stands in front of him, eyes so green behind the lenses of his glasses, his lips slightly parted and his skin smelling of oranges and cinnamon and something that makes Draco’s head spin madly.

See the full post

451 notes - Posted May 2, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Written for @drarrymicrofic with the prompt "teamwork".

A 5+1 of Draco looking for a new flat.

This is rated M.

“Here's the bedroom,” the lady says, pointing at a single bed and a tiny bookshelf.

Luna hums, tilting her head, and Draco’s eyebrow automatically goes up.

“House rules are simple,” the woman adds, “no meat, no loud music and absolutely no pets."

"Sounds reasonable," Draco comments, wondering what it's going to be like to become vegetarian.

“You can’t have any people over,” the lady says sternly.

"But what about Harry?" Luna asks, looking heartbroken. "He's going to be so sad without you."

"No boyfriends!" the woman shouts, looking outraged, and Draco's lips curl up viciously, ready to give her a piece of his mind.

"Tell you what," Luna says later at the café, "you should just move in with Harry. He's always saying how he's lonely and loves spending time with you."

~ . ~

"This is…" Draco mumbles, trying to find something positive to say about the house they're visiting. Anything positive.

"Utter shit," Weasley comments.

"Rather unsanitary," Hermione says at the same time, elbowing her boyfriend.

"I just don't understand why you don't want to ask Harry," Weasley says, lifting a newspaper with the tip of his fingers and yelping when something scurries away from under it.

"Harry would love to have you at Grimmauld," Hermione insists, casting a cleaning charm so strong that it makes Draco's teeth rattle.

"And he's got a million rooms," Weasley adds. "Much better than this."

~ . ~

"The rent is 700 pounds per month," the man declares. Draco swallows loudly, shaking his head.

"For this shithole you call a flat?" Pansy argues, crossing her arms in front of her chest. "You've got to be kidding me!"

"At least it was clean," Draco mumbles later, accepting the cup of tea Blaise offers him.

"You wouldn't have been able to afford it," Blaise points out.

"You should just move in with Potter," Pansy says, studying him with her sharp gaze. "The sexual tension between you two is insane. Imagine the mind-blowing sex you could have."

"Shut up, Pansy. Pass me a biscuit, will you?"

~ . ~

"Darling you could always move back to the Manor," his mother says, her delicate fingers brushing against a rose before she prunes it mercilessly. "Your father is finally going to be released from Azkaban."

"Merlin save me…" Draco breathes out, shaking his head.

"Aren't you on friendly terms with the Potter boy?" Narcissa asks, eyeing him slyly. "You could always ask him."

"Farewell, Mother!"

See the full post

519 notes - Posted January 20, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my writing

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bluefirewrites · 3 years ago

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'A Floral Fixation’- Juke Florist AU Part 2

Continuation of my last post about Flower Delivery Girl!Julie where she works at her family's flower shop, The Petal Pushers, and ends up making regular deliveries to Luke.

Note the title is silly. Does not allude to anything else :)

Julie has no clue how one favor for a friend could lead to all of this.

Ever since her brief stint as a singing telegram as well delivery girl, she’s now playing this... game? Yeah, game is the appropriate word for it. This ‘game’ with Luke Patterson.

And it would go like this:

There would be a delivery for Luke Patterson, Julie would drop it off, wondering why yet another flower arrangement is being delivered to a 17 year old boy on what seems to be on a regular basis, he offers her a flower, she declines, then leaves.

Julie's only the messenger, she doesn't see who keeps ordering them for Luke or if Luke's ordering these for someone. She doesn't check the card.

Or she would if there is one. There would usually be a card with each order. Tía nowadays just hands over the flowers with a telling arch of her brows and Julie instantly knows she's pedaling those to Sunset Curve's garage.

But she’s convinced that it really is Luke calling in and making the orders because every delivery she makes to him is always different and every time she would give it to him, he would always ask if they were her favorites.

Julie found the whole thing amusing, toying with him. But she had made numerous attempts in the past to get him to stop. She couldn’t imagine what kind of strain this would have on his wallet (flowers ain’t cheap), and she didn’t plan to string him on like that. It wasn’t fair.

But Luke Patterson is determined.

Why? No clue. By her deeming it a ‘game’ implies that there is a winner. Some sort of prize when they reach the end.

Whenever that is.

Maybe she doesn’t want it to end so soon. Not when these deliveries may be an excuse to go see him after school. She doesn’t stick around though. She is on the clock after all.

In the meantime, she’s good to play. And when Luke Patterson manages to guess her favorite flower (there’s no chance), she will accept it when offered to her.

So far, it’s been sunflowers, hydrangeas, chrysanthemums, and many other kinds of flowers.

This time, as she pedals up to the garage, it's zinnias in her basket.

And this time, the rest of the band is there.

Julie knocks on the door again and Luke's the first one to reach her. He leans against the entryway, taking the bouquet from her, picking one flower, and tilting it in her direction- the usual dance.

"Zinnias. Tell me that I'm right,"

"Hmm..." she makes the move to take it and Luke brightens...

Only for her hand to land on his forearm instead, where she gives him a couple of pitying pats.

"Nice try," she smirks, swiftly turning on her heel and walking back to her bike.

She could hear Alex and Reggie jeer at Luke's dumbfounded expression, 'ooooh'-ing at her trick.

Luke, after shooting his friends a glare and tossing the bouquet at them, he catches up to her as she mounts her bike.

"I'm getting close, aren't I?"

"What makes you think that?" She ensures the rest of her deliveries are secure in the back and front, pretending not to know what he's talking about.

"You're not a dainty flower girl. I know that for sure. That's not who you are."

Julie squints at him, "We haven't started talking until now. How can you say that 'know' me?"

"I heard you sing," Luke says. That makes her bristle slightly. "Trust me. I know everything I need to know about you from that. And with that powerhouse of a voice? No way you'd be a daisy or a daffodil."

Julie tries not to smile, not wanting to give any indication that he was heading in the right direction. The compliment, however delivered in his own Luke way, nearly makes her grin. Yet, it’s the singing part that reminds her way she’s been keeping the boy at arm’s reach and not outright telling him her favorite.

She and music have a complicated relationship at the moment. Her singing the first time she was here had been a one off. If Luke’s expecting her to belt out songs constantly and be as passionate about music as he is, then he’ll be sorely disappointed.

And Julie’s done disappointing people. She’d rather do something new. Even though a really cute guy is humoring her with these antics.

“You know there’s over 300,000 species of flowers?”

“352,000″

Julie raises an eyebrow.

“I research,” he proclaims proudly, rocking on his heels.

Wow, he’s really pushing this.

“What are you getting out of this, Luke?”

“Maybe I’m just very interested in... flowers?”

“Uh-huh,” Julie purses her lips, reading between the lines, “Flowers. Right.”

“And I’m gonna continue to feed that interest... as long as it takes,”

“Or as long as your allowance can take it. Do you even have a job?”

“I work at the diner. But,” he sidles up to her, “If you’re so concerned about my funds, then maybe give me a hint? This can all be over quicker if you’re so eager to get rid of me.”

The shit-eating grin on his face makes her roll her eyes. This boy...

"I guess..." Julie debates internally, "I guess you can cross small flowers off," she ends up admitting.

"Ha!" he jumps, "I was right!”

“Still not the right flower though,” she reminds him.

“Nah that's a victory for today and I'll take it,"

She shakes her head at him, "You’re ridiculous,"

“See you next week then?”

"Oh my god, Julie goes ahead and embarks on her bike, “More business for us, then. Be seeing you, Patterson.”

She rides down the street is about to turn the corner when she hears faint yelling from behind her.

"Your voice does sell more flowers!"

Stopping by the neighbors yard and looks back, "What?”

It’s Luke, standing in the driveway still. He cups his hands and shouts, “I was right!”

“What?” she answers back.

Now that does it. And she breaks out into a laugh, throwing her head back as she does. Luke Patterson- what a clown.

Julie promptly bikes away, and when she returns to the store, Tía clocks her smile immediately and asks about their favorite customer.

“An idiot, as always,” Julie reports back.

A cute idiot.

Tía hums something Julie couldn’t comprehend. Then she returns to pruning the flowers. Julie helps her.

“Well... whoever that young man is. He must have a really special girl in his life. To be ordering this many flowers.”

“Yeah... I guess,” Julie agrees, absentmindedly, focusing more on the task at hand.

“And I hope that girl knows just how special she is too,”

“Yeah- wait. Huh?”

Julie doesn’t get anymore out of her aunt that day, just knowing glances as if she’s meant to be in on this inside joke, but she isn’t.

Oh well.

And when she spots Luke the next day at school, he breezes past her, smiling, hints of floral scents radiating from his person. Much like how the shop would smell.

“Mornin’, Flower Girl,” he greets, tipping an imaginary hat her way.

“Morning, Diner Boy,” she shoots back, taking satisfaction from how thrown off Luke looks by her response.

He recovers and shoots her a wink, “Touchè”

Hey! If he knew what her job was, then she should too. And use it to her advantage. Maybe go to his work and tease him there, pester him about his favorite order, maybe and not be a passive player in this game they have.

Now wouldn’t that be a fun idea...

Tagging: @blush-and-books @lydias--stiles @thedeathdeelers @ruzek-halstead @pink-flame, @ourstarscollided, @nottheleastbrave, @echocharm17618 @smolfangirl @garc-i-a @simp-for-julie-molina @teenagepeanutbird @ifitsallyoudo @fandomscraziness22 @writerownstory @heademptynothoughts @writeineveryemptyspace

#julie and the phantoms #jatp #happy anniversary!#jatp anniversary #juke #jatp drabble #flower delivery girl! Julie #mention of Diner!Luke #julie x luke #luke x julie

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thenighttrain · 3 years ago

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🐣🐨🦔🐢🐄🐸🐧🦭

DID YOU LIKE MY COUNTDOWN!? That was fun! I had fun. That was actually more fun than I thought it would be! There were too many good posts to name. It was very fun reading all your comments and theories. Though side note: animal anon has no problem with people joining her BUT it must be animals and it must not mess with my countdown. No statues! Animal anon does animals, not statues. Side side note: can someone settle the debate of if that emoji is a hedgehog or a porcupine? Because I have no idea. Side note side note side note: sorry if you got multiple asks in a day...my system isn't perfected yet so sometimes I send two (or three) because I forgot I sent one and didn't want to accidently miss anyone (also sorry if i did miss you, still perfecting the system, no one has been animal anon blacklisted, i promise!)

Anyway, GUESS WHAT TODAY IS!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉🎉 It's been one year since I started animal anon! How exciting is that?! Phew, what a year we've had together! I mean what better way to start this second year than some chaos since that's how animal anon started to begin with! I will admit, it was slightly stressful coming up with something to meet the occasion of this event. I hope the countdown and this post live up to it. No, I'm not going to reveal myself just yet.. maybe that will be for year 2...😏😏. BUT I will give you some fun facts about me! So let's see; first, I'm from the Midwest (so not Canadian, but close so I do have a slight accent), but I currently live in the TriState area. Second, I am a MASSIVE theater nerd. No, seriously I have been to 21 shows since Broadway reopened in September and I'm actually going to my 22nd tonight. I don't know if this makes that fact better or worse, but I've really only been to about 12 different show because out of those 22, 10 of those are one specific show. Third, I am fluent in German and English. Though, I suck at writing in German, I never learned how to, so don't ask me to do that please. Fourth, my favorite color is red, so you can guess my favorite Taylor album (and coincidently also the show I've been to see 10 times on Broadway...). Fifth, I love to talk A LOT if you couldn't tell by the essays I send yall. And lastly, I can also confirm I am not Taylor...but I will say that I do share something very important with her... tell me your guesses down below as to what very important thing you think Taylor and I have in common, and I'll send some extra animals to whomever I see gets it right first!

So contuining on with my dissertation here, this week I have been trying to figure out a prompt to live up to this occasion. As I already mentioned, my system isn't perfect! And I've been thinking a lot about community lately and how that's been lacking for so many because of Covid. So what I want yall to do is if you get this dissertation of mine, please send a message, post, anon, whatever you want to at least 1 other blog (though you can do more), telling them something you like about them and giving them an animal emoji! That way we can keep spreading the love all day long to as many as possible! 🥰

As always, you are all brilliant, kind, worthy, beautiful and as this past week has shown, hilarious and unique human beings. No seriously, some of your posts had me kneeling over in laughter. If you would so like, you can tag #animalanon so I and everyone can read all your lovely posts! IM STARTING EARLY TODAY SO WE CAN PARTY ALL DAY LONG BECAUSE I LOVE YALL SO MUCH 🎊 🦥🦁🐯

U DID IT BEFORE I SLEPT, THANK YOU<3 i'm pretty sure it's a hedgehog, porcupines are bigger (and uglier). happy 1 year of being animal anon 🥺 your asks brighten my day and you've made this fandom so much more fun! i really hope you reveal yourself one day! i looove musicals and i'm so jealous you've seen so many broadway shows wtf TAKE ME WITH YOU 😭😭 and re the important thing you share with taylor - your fave number is 13? you're born on dec 13th? you have a bf called joe? you're a cat person?

ilysm and thank u for all the fun and chaos and positivity you've brought

#ask #animal anon #anonymous

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maraudersftw · 3 years ago

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I have a weird question, but do you ever feel like someone is really, REALLY your friend and that you adore them even though you don't know anything about them except for the fact that they're unflinchingly kind?! I have this reader who /ALWAYS/ leaves such wonderful comments and even though all I know nothing I feel like "HEY THAT'S MY FRIEND RIGHT THERE!!" whenever they comment ahaha. I want to know if it's just me or if there are others out there

Um, this is not at all a weird question, and I adore it so much, because YES, ABSOLUTELY! I have a bunch of usernames that I love seeing in my inbox whenever I publish a chapter/fic, and these readers have spoiled me so much that I wait for their comments with bated breath each time.

And since I feel like I don't take the time to appreciate my loyal and unflinchingly kind readers nearly as much as I should, I'm going to go ahead and tag (some of) them here to remind them how much they brighten up my days with their words.

I'm going to start with @all-things-jily of course, because she's got to rank #1 reviewer in the fandom without fail. I await her comments with so much excitement, it's actually insane. But even beyond that, Nina is such a wonderful person and the greatest friend, and I'm so lucky to be able to talk to her openly and honestly about anything on my mind.

@the-dream-team is the love of my life, and I'm always prepared to either be swept up in emotions or laugh my heart out whenever I see her comments in my inbox. And again, even beyond being a fabulous reader, Dylan is just sunshine personified, super talented, and the sweetest friend 💖

@liz-lunane is another person whose comments I can never get enough of. She unfailingly bookmarks every single one of my fics (yes, I've noticed, Liz) and her enthusiasm just makes me giddy to the point of nausea (in a good way hahaha)

@moonzelle leaves the sweetest comments ever! They're always so thought-through and detailed, and the best part is that she lists down her feelings from the chapter, which is honestly the most wonderful thing ever!

@shaniso90 If there's a reader who fits the "unflinchingly kind" descriptor to a T, it'd be her! She says the most flattering things, not just about my stories, but my writing in general. And then she always tacks on "I know I've said this a lot of times, and I'm repeating myself..." which is the funniest thing, because I could reread her comments a million times and it wouldn't be enough

@blitheringmcgonagall has been the most supportive person in the fandom ever since I've joined Tumblr, and it's insane to me how she works the busiest job, writes all this incredible stuff, comments on as many fics as she can, and still manages to be the sweetest person in the world ❤❤ truly the best

@keepingupwithpotters is basically one of the coolest people I know, and I've been in awe of her wit and humour ever since the first time she commented on one of my fics. Every time I see a comment from her in my inbox--I kid you not--anticipation flutters through me because I know this one's going to be good XD

@my-kindred-spirit is SO sweet and adorable, I don't even have the words for it. She always writes her comments with a bunch of emojis and caps to emphasize her enthusiasm, and there's nothing better than that, honestly!

@imgoodwhataboutyou never fails to bring a smile to my face with their comments! It's always filled with such wonderful reactions to the scenes in the fic and the best keysmashes hahaha I'm truly blessed to have such a reader!

@raissassampaio is the kind of reader one dreams about! She not only leaves you comments on the fics she loves, but also goes out of her way to make gorgeous moodboard edits for those fics! Like, talk about being spoiled!

@shehatedhimnahshedidnt kills me with her comments each time! If you ever go to one of my fics and take a look at the kind of lovely things she says, you'll understand exactly what I mean. Plus, I love her immensely 💕

And so, so, SO many other readers who I cherish and love and am unbelievably grateful for. Tumblr tagging cannot possibly express my gratitude to everyone, and it'd take me years to list every reader who's made me happy with their comments over the years. If I've not mentioned you here but you've left comments on my fics before, I want you to know with absolute certainty that I know you and I've re-read your comments a minimum of three times, and I love you with my whole heart. I'm just incapable of holding all that adoration in one post for everyone. Thank you!

#asks #anon #claudia answers #thankful claudia

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t4yce · 3 years ago

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normal people make resolutions for nye but usually i make them on my bday (or i start them on my birthday even if i think of them usually around nye); i get oddly self reflective and emotional about birthdays and it often makes me think of the people i have had the fortune to meet so, is there someone in the last year that has meant a lot to you? Is it a new person? And old friend? Tell me how/why they have been so important to you.

i'm quite a loner lol so at first i didnt think id really have an answer for this question but no thinking about it i definitely do! my best friend of many years has always been a genuinely kind and thoughtful person but there were times in the past year where i was kind of overwhelmed by it?? (in a good way lol) back during the first lockdown she initiated sending each other monthly letters and gifts and we continued last year until she had a baby which is wild to me because she was super busy with work + pregnant yet still wanted to find stuff, package it and send me a parcel each month??? i was surprised every month when she wanted to keep doing it but of course very grateful because it always brightened my day! and we're both the kind of people that give a lot of gifts at birthdays/christmas but knowing how much time she spent alone looking after a wee baby, with very little free time each day i was fully expecting her to take a step back from that but she didnt she gave me the most thoughtful and perfect gifts on my birthday i was very overwhelmed by that; that she somehow managed to find the time even though she didnt have to & wasnt expected to... even the other day she sent me a gingerbread man/bear in the post just because! she really is such a great friend, which i already knew but the past year cemented that even more also just wanna say everyone on here too. i lost interest in drag race for a few years but got back into it during uk2 and started using this blog properly again shortly after. most of the people i used to know here had gone but it was so easy to just slot back into this fandom lol this little corner of the internet is a very nice place to be! this is quite cheesy but making gifs and reading ppls tags really made me feel like ✨a part of something✨ again and like.. less alone lmao i really appreciate everyone here especially you sandra for connecting us all like this !!

#ask #glittertrail

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queenangst · 4 years ago

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How about a oneshot with touch starved midoriya? Maybe neglectful inko? Like the first positive touch he can remember is all might when he was 15, or aizawa or smth

for my 30 min fic challenge / read more: ‘30 min fics’ tag

a hand in the unfamiliar [read on AO3]

The apartment was quiet when Izuku got up, silencing his alarm with a quick tap on his phone. He sat on the edge of his bed for a moment, looking around his room. Early morning light was only just peering in, the sky still blue-grey. He knew it would brighten and change, but by that time Izuku would be long gone.

Mom never got up this early. He peered at the time. 5:43 AM.

He crept out of bed, keeping his slippers off so they wouldn’t make any sound, and then quickly got ready. Izuku hopped from the bathroom, toothbrush still in his mouth, when he heard his phone vibrate.

All Might 5:45 AM Hope you’re ready for training!

Everything in Izuku was suddenly and wonderfully awake. He’d set the alarms, circled the dates on the calendar, but… this was it. They’d already started training two weeks ago.

He still couldn’t believe he saw All Might almost every day.

Yet—Izuku felt like he’d never get used to this floating feeling. Every step down the hall, though cautious, also felt like he was hovering just a little off the floor. He grabbed an energy bar and the water bottle he’d filled last night, looking around the apartment and listening for the lack of sound that meant Mom was still sleeping.

He hadn’t told her about training yet.

Izuku wasn’t quite sure why. He began the jog down to the beach, the cool morning air greeting him. It was just nice to have a secret—though Izuku had kept plenty from her—that was really, genuinely, just for him. A little something that Izuku could keep in his heart and use as a shield for when the bullies or Kacchan got a little too mean, or when the teachers looked over their desks with those gazes that said you’ll never amount to anything.

But—All Might.

All Might was already waiting for him by the time Izuku came over the first slope of sand, grinning.

“Midoriya, my boy,” he said. He smiled. “You look happy.”

“Just excited to work hard!” Izuku cheered. He bowed. “Good morning, All Might.”

All Might chuckled. “Then good morning to you.”

The greeting sent warmth spreading through Izuku. Over the last two weeks he’d kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. Actually, a part of him still was.

One day Izuku would show up and the thick morning clouds would close in, and at the top of the slope All Might would stand, arms folded. In those nightmares All Might didn’t look like a hero, just a dark shadowy figure even though his silhouette was still recognizable.

He would say, I made the wrong choice. You can’t be a hero.

So far it hadn’t happened. Every day when Izuku woke up, he hoped it wouldn’t.

“Where do you want to start first?” All Might asked.

Izuku bit his lip and surveyed the beach. His eyes landed on a small section of trash close to them, cluttered with objects of varying sizes.

“Here,” Izuku said, and All Might followed him.

They fell into a familiar rhythm as Izuku began his work. Usually first he worked on the smaller items, sort of like his warm-up, and lugged microwaves and broken fans, bits of litter and broken things up to All Might’s truck. All Might watched carefully.

It made Izuku nervous sometimes, how closely he watched. That was the point of being a mentor, Izuku supposed, and no way was Izuku ever going to tell All Might that it made Izuku a bit uncomfortable. The back of his neck prickled.

Still waiting. Still waiting for All Might to tell Izuku that he wasn’t good enough. Turn around and go back to your shitty excuse of an existence, worthless Deku. That sounded more like something Kacchan might say.

His foot caught on an exposed metal frame of sorts, and Izuku went flying. There was a loud clatter as he dropped the chair he’d been carrying, and Izuku landed in the sand, pain shooting up his arm despite the forgiving surface.

“Midoriya!”

Izuku sat up and spat sand out of his mouth, groaning. Usually training was hard enough that he always showered before heading to school anyway, but this was just gross, and he’d have to put up with being covered in sand for the rest of the session.

All Might crouched next to him. “Are you alright?”

Izuku looked up into a concerned face, and the words died in his throat. He tried to say yes, just a simple little word, but he couldn’t.

“...Midoriya?”

Izuku wiped at his face, though it only made more sand stick. He looked down at his hand, hissing.

The pressure eased.

“I’m-I’m okay, All Might,” he choked out.

When was the last time someone looked at Izuku like that? Not pitying the way strangers did when it got out that Izuku was Quirkless, not concerned in the way that people often thought Izuku couldn’t handle himself just because he couldn’t create explosions from his sweat or pull objects toward himself. Not the kind of help that was condescending, or to make themselves feel better.

All Might just looked like he cared.

“Your arm, is it alright?”

Izuku realized he was holding it. He turned his right arm around, testing, and felt only a bit of pain now that the initial impact was over.

“Um…”

“Here,” All Might said. He leaned in, hair swinging forward in Izuku’s face, and Izuku realized they were close. Before Izuku could react, All Might gently took Izuku’s arm, massive hand cradling his. “Let me see.”

“It’s—” Izuku squeaked.

All Might, muscle form or not, could probably snap Izuku’s arm like it was nothing more than a pencil. He bet the man could eat bullets for breakfast, even. But All Might’s touch was light, gentle, as he turned Izuku’s arm over.

“Might bruise,” All Might said.

“So-sorry,” Izuku said.

All Might startled. Their eyes met before Izuku dropped his gaze.

“Why are you sorry?” He dropped Izuku’s hand but then reached for Izuku’s shoulder, almost covering it. “I’m glad you’re alright. It was just an accident.”

Izuku chewed on the inside of his cheek so he didn’t answer right away.

Just an accident. Those words could mean many different things.

“I- I messed up.”

All Might chuckled. “You tripped, my boy. Nothing to be worried about. You know, I walk into doors all the time. It’s quite embarrassing.”

Izuku stopped being able to think, or to listen to what All Might was saying, because he was suddenly and overwhelmingly aware that All Might’s hand hadn't left his shoulder yet. It was a casual touch, but it felt so nice that Izuku wondered how long they could stay there. If they could.

At the same time, Izuku thought if they stayed there any longer, he might explode. His childhood hero, Izuku’s hero, was here in front of him.

“Ye-yeah,” he mumbled. “Thanks. Um-I-I think I should get back to work.”

All Might smiled and stood up, towering over Izuku. Then he held out a hand, and Izuku stared, dazed.

“Come on, then, you prince of nonsense,” All Might said. “What are you looking at me like that for?”

At home Izuku tended to skirt around Mom when she was too close—not because he was scared she would hurt him, because she would never—but because he was scared if she came too close she would see all his secrets. At school, no one ever touched him kindly—shoving, pushing, punching.

Kindness was a rarity. Kindness was what Izuku had to make himself because no one ever offered it to him.

All Might was offering.

Izuku took it, felt All Might’s firm and steady grasp on his hand as he was pulled to his feet. They held there for a moment, and then All Might ruffled Izuku’s hair.

“Let’s get back to work, then, huh?”

“Yeah,” Izuku said. He bent down and scooped up the stuff he’d dropped. “All… All Might? I’m glad we met.”

Taglist: If you’d like to be added or removed from this taglist (tagged when a new fic is posted), please let me know. If your blog is unmentionable, I cannot tag you.

@happi-tree @soyoudneverguess @granny-griffin @zannish @liarielle @aroandanxious @gwogobo @honeyandsonshine @cinammon-cinner @paralumanleadmehome @ship-tost @gabs-2002 @the-reading-obsessed-stitchbear @weird-skittle @sapphire363 @fr0znmang0 @in-honor-of-you @cheese490 @anakinthetrashking @proheromidoriyashouto @lust-nd-love @firefletch @mamamiamia @frankiealexquin @crossroadofinterests @bornindundee @bleusmainpage @fleurie3am15inspo @scheherahzade

#bnha #bnha fanfic #izuku #dadmight #all might #my fanfic #30 min fics #anonymous

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opaljm · 4 years ago

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not gonna lie, but i liked you better when you were just doing your own little thing on tumblr. youre hybrid stories were so good and your hades!taehyung story was so promising. but now instead of writing and posting fics- literally where is eye of the tiger it's been more than a year since you teased it and where is turbulent part three?! your becoming a shooter for people that dont even like you as much as you like them. why do you hype up hantaev and chateautae when they never hype you up naia. i dont think they've ever read a single thing by you either. naia their never gonna become your bsfs and its pathetic to see you keep trying 💀 you should just write and post your fics (you know the ones that we ACTUALLY WANT) why did you even release yours truly. just give us eott youve had more than a year to work on it i dont get it. the more you draw it out the less people will care when you finally post it.

Um wow. Okay so, my readers know I have a policy of not answering hate asks and in general the treatment I get from my readers is so good and so pure and I'm always grateful for it but it seems like this motherfucker wants to ruin that relationship, but you know what? I have thick skin and I don't even know if you're actually one of my readers or you're one of those toxic anons that @hantaev and @chateautae have, that decided to come over here and bother me now.

The reasons why I'm suspicious whether or not you're even one of my followers or just fine combed my blog to find ways to hurt me is because I have actually explicitly stated why there is no Turbulent part 3 yet (It's a drabble series that I work on when I have inspiration for it or when I am not working on other works. But I literally have so many WIPs right now. All my readers know that Turbulent is the least of my priorities and they're so respectful of that).

And when it comes to Eye of the Tiger, I've literally stated that I've lost over 20k words of the fic when the file got corrupted and that actually put me into a slump and not want to write that fic anymore. Since then I've decided to completely rework the plot into something that I would want to write again. I had made it into a chaptered form before changing it back to a one-shot. It's even on my list of WIPs for this year. But let's assume for a second that you actually have read my stories and you're not a random anon from the depths of hell. Congratulations! You have delayed Eye of the Tiger for everyone. I was going to work on it next month but now it looks like everyone is going to have to wait until August at earliest. I also don't care if you think that Eye of the Tiger's anticipation is going to die down and no one ends up reading it when I finally do post it. It's not like you have clairvoyance and can see the future.

Now moving onto you insulting Yours, Truly and saying no one wants it. Anon, just because you love Taehyung to the alarming degree that you keep harassing creators for their Taehyung fics just cuz it's not set to your specification or whatever the fuck does not mean that everyone else is such a rabid crazy Taehyung stan. It literally makes no sense for me to put more importance onto your opinion of Yours, Truly over the hundreds of people who have reblogged and hearted it and even asked to be on the tag list. Not to toot my own horn but I really like Yours, Truly and I wish you would open your eyes so you could enjoy it like everyone else. Except I don't know that I want someone like you on my page so 🤷🏻‍♀️ maybe it's a blessing in disguise that you don't like Yours, Truly and won't be able to bother me about it in the future.

I left this for last because it's literally so stupid that I even have to address this. Anon, I don't think you realize this but Hads and Sammy are friends in real life, they are the type of friends that talk every day, facetime and text, and send each other presents. Not only that but they are also the same age. IN contrast, I am... get this... their online friend. I am not as deeply involved in their lives as they are in each others lives. And you know what that's perfectly fine and I'm okay with it, maybe one day it'll turn into something IRL maybe not, it's cool we're chilling either way. Also, I can't believe I even have to say this but anon do you realize that Sammy and Hads are both 19 and I am 23? I'm actually rubbing my forehead right now because there is literally no situation where it's normal or acceptable for a 23 year old to be jealous of a relationship that two 19 year olds have with each other. I just treat them like my little babies that I'm so so proud of.

If you think I'm trying too hard to be their friends, I feel like you genuinely have never seen people act kindly towards others without expecting anything in return. It literally costs me nothing to interact with them and brighten up their days. Also maybe it's my age but I'm not insecure about whether or not my mutuals read my fics or constantly reblog and promote it. We are all so busy I'm never going to ever demand that from someone. Sammy and Hads don't demand anything from me either. How can you say Hads as never read anything by me when she's listed as the beta reader of Yours, Truly (yet another reason why I think you have never read it but are just insulting it because you can)? Sammy has given me private updates of how much she's enjoyed my work. Just because she or Hads never posted a review for YOU to see on multiple works doesn't mean that they don't read and support my stuff. And it's so weird that you're claiming that about them but you're not holding me to the same standard? The last time I reviewed one of Sammy's Maybe I Do chapters was probably for chapter 4 but I've privately been keeping her updated on my progress with reading her fic. I haven't even read Hads' Before Dawn yet. But you know what? It's fine. We're all okay with it and we don't have insecurities like that, we understand that we will all read and support each other's fics when we can and when we're free. I feel like as you get older you realize that friendship is not just what you can physically show off to others its more so all the ways you can be there for someone. I thank Allah that Sammy, Hads, and I are all so much more understanding than you are and that there is not even an ounce of toxicity in our relationship.

Lastly, maybe I'm not jealous of Sammy and Hadiyah being best friends because I have my own best friends? @vivian146 is literally the light of my life and we're going on strong for almost 7 years 😭😭😭

#chatty!naia #asks #anon #naia rant #toxic anon

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jinxedpanda4life · 4 years ago

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DamiRae Hospital AU?

No I am not writing one, if I could write well I would though! So here are some HCs for a hospital AU. If someone decides to write this then I’ll be your first reader. Also I am sort of basing things off of Grey’s Anatomy just a bit and my limited knowledge of the medical field.

- Starts of as 1st year residents, specialties may vary

- The “Titans” are residents and 1st years that show great promise, this doesn’t really play a role its just what people call them behind their backs

- Dr. Kori Anders is a OBGYN (women parts and birth) resident, a year or two away from finishing

- Dr. Richard “Dick” Grayson is is a surgery resident, trained by the hospital owner Bruce Wayne (who is a world renowned surgeon, has awards, etc), specifically general surgery

- Dr. Garfield Logan is pediatrician (kid doctor) res, bonds well with kids, but is considering going back to school to become a vet instead

- Dr. Jaime Reyes is an oncology (cancer doctor), having had cancer as a teen and is now forever trying to rid the world of it, works mostly with kids and teens

- Dr. Jonathan Kent is a physical therapist that works with pain management. Up beat guy and is always trying to brighten his patient’s lives.

- Dr. Damian Wayne is a surgical intern, blood thirsty little thing, hoping to become a neurosurgeon (brain, spine) (or cardiothoracic (heart, lungs) both are competitive)

- Dr. Raven Roth is an anesthesiologist (the drug person that knocks you out) and is starting her surgical internship (she wanted to do more than just help people get high essentially or whatever) has no current preference for any specific surgical field

- Add in characters:

-- Dr. Jason Todd, trauma surgeon (fits too well)

-- Dr. Timothy Drake diagnostician (medical detective basically)

-- Dr. Donna Troy gynecologist

-- Terra Markov is a nurse (i don’t like Terra but nurses are the actual best)

- Story stuff:

- Damian and Raven meet as they are put under the guidance of the same resident

-Damian has an automatic dislike for Raven because she knows everyone already and is equally, if not much more, knowledgable about surgery, the OR, the ER, protocol, etc He also thinks she is cold because she rarely shows emotion (pot kettle Damian)

- Raven can always be found in the medical archives researching old cases and studying new ones, Damian stumbles upon her when looking for an old cardiomegaly case (enlarged heart).

- Raven gets along with all of the past ‘Robins’ making her a go to intern

- Garfield can be seen whenever he is not needed trying to flirt with Nurse Markov and often goes to Raven to sulk

- Damian and Raven are always early to pre-rounds and are typically the first ones there (usually early in the morning, getting there before 500)

- Jon bumps into Damian more often than not and they start becoming friends (Damian is reluctant at first and is still you know Damian about everything), Damian even recommends patients to him

- Though Damian doesn’t want to really ‘hang out’ with anyone he reluctantly hangs out with the Titans, because of Jon and Dick

- When in a large group when at a bar, club or whatever Damian tends to stay close to Raven because 1) they actually have things to talk about 2) she isn’t loud

- Raven & Damian are both assigned to a case that is frankly befuddling and have to start spending long nights and early mornings together to figure it out

- Over that period of time they learn things about each other:

-- Raven learns:

Damian has a dog (Titus) and cat (Alfred)

He is single (Kori told her) and lives in an apartment close to the hospital

He has lived in various countries

He is trained in multiple martial arts

He prefers his tea with brown sugar and a slice of lemon

His eyes are a true emerald color with a ring of gold and flecks scattered within

He may hide it well but when Raven compliments him he becomes flustered

He speaks to himself in Arabic when he curses, trying to remember something, doesn’t want anyone to know what he is saying

He isn’t always an asshole

When he actually smiles a true and genuine smile, she has heart palpitations

-- Damian learns:

Raven has two tattoos (neither are a bird), a gang tat (she is saving up to get it removed), and a mantra in Azarathian; Azarath Metrion Zinthos

She immigrated from Azarath when she was around 8

Her notes are in Azarathian

She actually feels a lot of emotion and knows how to control them

If she is not reading about a current or past case she is reading any book or file she can get her hands on, he has caught her reading in multiple different languages; Azarathian, English, French, Russian, Arabic, Dutch, Mandarin, (could be more or less)

She lives alone and has a cat, Nevermore, and thanks to Dick he already knew she was single

She likes all tea, no matter how prepared, but prefers the sweetener to be honey

Her hair is black but shines purple, especially under the ER lights

Her eyes are a purple that at first glance look blue, like Elizabeth Taylor, he realizes though her eyes are galaxies on their own

When she smiles the world actually stops moving, her eyes shine like stars and he never wants the world to start moving again

She always wears a necklace with a gold and ruby ring at all times (it was her mother’s wedding ring)

- When Damian starts having le feelings for Raven he considers actually seeking medical advice as this has never happened to him before

- Raven tries her best to contain her feelings when at work, going so far as one day a month staying home just to scream, cry and feel her feelings

- It does not help that new feelings towards Damian start popping up, especially since he starts bringing her tea and hanging out with her at work

- During the middle of their 2nd year of residency someone holds Raven hostage in the hospital to fix someone that person loves (this person had connections to Trigon and knew who Raven was)

- That was not a fun time for either Damian or Raven; Damian was outside the hospital pacing trying to figure something out with the other Titans trying to calm themselves and him down

- Shots are fired and when all is said and done, Raven gets shot in the abdomen and the hand (she was in ICU for a hot sec)

- Damian seemed to be there every time Raven woke up, he was always checking on her during rounds even though he wasn’t on her case

- Raven did have to have surgery on her hand and in her abdomen (idk where i’m not getting that specific), she hated being, in her words, coddled

- Even though Raven was right handed (the one that got shot) she learned how to do everything, writing, eating, going to the bathroom, etc. (many of the other residents are impressed since she keeps working on it after her other hand heals)

- Raven’s room also becomes a space for other residents to destress and just vent about their day. She listens and gives advice, all without looking up from whatever she was doing.

- During this time Raven becomes hooked on Pretty Pretty Pegasus

- Raven’s room is also full of cards, flowers, etc all from fellow staff and some from patients. When she leaves (she spends a couple weeks in thanks to multiple surgeries, recovery, and other minor injuries) all of the gifts litter her apartment, the cards end up in a box by her desk, she presses the flowers, and stuffed animals are donated to children’s shelter (she keeps some that she has grown attached to)

- During this time Damian is more of an ass than usual (people notice and tease him)

- Damian at some points keeps working without breaks/sleep for hours on end. Dick pulls him aside after noticing, scolds and forces him to sleep in one of the on call rooms. (He really wanted him to go home, but Damian wasn’t leaving)

- Once Raven was discharged Damian and Garfield help her back home (clothes + gifts + Raven w/a healing hand/other injuries = need help) the other Titans would have helped but were needed at the hospital

- Garfield leaves after dropping off Raven and Damian (and her stuff) as he is called in on a Peds case (could be fake, may not be) and Raven & Damian spend the rest of the time basically watching terrible movies. (with Nevermore sitting on both of them)

- That is the night Damian realizes that not only does he like Raven, but he like likes her. He starts devising plans on how to get her to date him.

- All his plans basically are thrown out the window because of one reason or another (he kept overthinking it)(poor guy)

- It is not until their 3rd year of residency that Raven realizes her feelings towards Damian (Have I made it clear she likes him? I can’t remember...)

- She realizes her feelings when she has to crash at his place for a night (because he lives ridiculously close to the hospital, like how expensive is that??) and he tries to make sure that she is as comfortable as possible

- She never realized how much he cared for her? Like she was always helping him out and there for him but she never realized he reciprocated that care? *Shocker*

- Raven becomes kind of a mess because of all her emotions that she is trying to bottle up. (all the corks are disintegrating and the jar is overflowing)

- Raven is during her Ortho rotation (bone surgeon people, they are cool, ik from experience) that she actually gets a good release for her emotions (setting peoples bones and drilling and hammering in pins is actually therapeutic)

- Raven thinks that may be the specialty she chooses

- Damian saw her as a mess and could not fathom why she was said mess, he figured it was about a romantic interest after someone made an offhand comment about her love life and she became a blubbering mess (very un-Raven like)

- After all of well *motions with hands* that Raven asks why Damian doesn’t have a s/o or someone

- He says there is only person that he has been meaning to ask out (looks pointedly at Raven)

- All Raven says is “Go for it.”

And that is where my HCs end. Now if anyone who happens upon this post decides to write a Medical AU with any of these please tag me, tell me, message me.

You do not have to give me credit, I just want to read it.

This took me a couple of days to write up, so if it is disjointed I apologize.

If anything needs to be corrected for any reason let me know!

I hope this fuels some imaginations!

-I may post more HC AU things if they come to mind, we will have to see.

#damirae #damian x raven #demonbirds #teen titans #raven #damian wayne #rachel roth #headcanon #medical au #au

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the-purity-pen · 4 years ago

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FTRFTH: part iii

Pairing: Frankie Morales x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1,813 Rating: G Warnings: Still just more kissing and cute fluff A/N: This story is back with the third part! Sorry it took a bit to get it written but I’m so excited for these two!

Part 1 | Part 2 masterlist

Three weeks had gone by and when the email came in that your photos were done being edited, you nearly jumped for joy. You had already loved on the sneak peeks that Georgia had posted on her facebook page.

You didn’t know if Frankie had seen so you had called him to make him check Georgia’s facebook page. You had to practically walk in through how to get to it from his email and you found yourself giggling the whole time.

When the email came through with the gallery link you figured it’d be best to just show up with your laptop to show Frankie rather than try to walk him through the process of favoriting and viewing the photos you’d want to keep.

You tried to keep your excitement contained and forced yourself not to look at any of the photos until you were able to meet with Frankie. When you sent him a quick text to see what he was up to the next morning, he told you his schedule was wide open. So you planned a quick coffee date to view the photos together.

“I can’t wait to see them. And you.”

His text sent a little flurry of butterflies to your chest and you had a hard time falling asleep. You kept opening your phone and re-reading the text like some lovesick teenager. Maybe that’s what it was. Just puppy love.

The next morning came and by the time you got everything ready to leave, you realized you were going to be a few minutes late. You called Frankie to let him know and his response warmed your heart.

“I’ve got a table for us so take all the time you need.” He had to stop himself from typing an endearing nickname at the end of the text. It had been over a month since the first meeting of you and he couldn’t get you out of his head. The electricity that he felt when he finally kissed you made him crave more of that feeling.

It didn’t help squash that feeling that you were more than willing to talk to him nearly every day and not just over text. You respected that new technology wasn’t really his thing and simply for that, he was grateful.

Frankie sat at the table, coffee cup in hand, holding it with both hands, leaning his elbows onto the table as he watched the window. He was partially watching the people just go by with their lives but he was also watching for you. When he saw you appear and walk right in, he immediately stood up to greet you.

The smile on both your faces was evident as a single arm wrapped around you and cheek kisses were given. Frankie was nothing if not polite. He stepped aside and even pulled out your chair which had you giggling like a fool in the middle of a coffee shop.

He pushed in your chair as you sat down and you looked up at him and gave him a smirk. You thanked him quietly and he leaned over to ask you what your coffee order would be. You told him and he nodded before walking away to get it for you.

You took that time to open your laptop, connect it to the shop’s wifi and pull up the link to the gallery. When Frankie came back a few moments later and set down the coffee cup, he was leaning close to you and you half expected him to kiss you. But he didn’t. He just smiled and took his seat across from you.

“You’re gonna have to scoot closer,” you laughed and watched as he pulled the chair with him, not fully standing to do so. His elbow bumped you and he immediately apologized which just made you laugh again. “Frankie, you’re fine. C’mere.” you tugged his arm so he was leaning in with you as you clicked on the link and opened the gallery in a new tab.

Both of your eyes shot open at the photos. The way the sunset looked so warm behind you, the vibrant colors of your top that you had worn that day and the grass just making it look like a painting. “Wow,” Frankie gasped quietly as he looked at the photos that you pulled up one by one.

After a handful of photos, you reached over to click the arrow button again but Frankie stopped you. You looked at him but he was staring at the photo intensely. It wasn’t a photo of the two of you. It was a moment that the two of you were separated for a moment, probably talking and Georgia had snapped the moment that you were looking down and laughing.

You normally hated the way you looked when you laughed in photos and it was a rare occurrence to even happen in photos with your ex. Yet here you were, golden sunlight dancing across your features, illuminating you in just the right way. Your face was relaxed but bright at the same time.

Frankie had to stop you on this one. He couldn’t get enough of how beautiful you truly looked like that. With his hand over yours, he finally looked over at you and saw the way you were looking at yourself in the photo. It was like you didn’t recognize yourself and he realized how beautiful you were looking at the computer screen like that. Enamored with how you looked in that photo, in that moment.

Frankie said your name quietly and you looked at him but before you could respond, he leaned closer to slot his lips against yours softly. Your heart immediately jumped from your chest into your throat as you kissed him ever so gently. His lips were just as soft as you remembered and the intensity behind the gentle kiss reminded you of that day all over again.

When he pulled away after only a few moments that felt like forever, he pulled back just enough to look into your eyes and you felt your heart lurch forward once more. Your hand, still covered by his was brought to his face where your fingers gently scratched at his sparse facial hair. It had grown in a bit more since the last time you had seen him in person.

You were so wrapped up in each other that you nearly forgot about the photos. Frankie was the first to break, clearing his throat before kissing your palm gently and placing your hand back down on the computer. “Let’s, uh, keep going,” he said quietly, bringing his free hand up to rub at his still shocked lips from the contact with yours.

You smiled nervously, feeling your heart beating a mile a minute in your chest. You nodded and started to flip through the pictures again slowly. Each one progressing to you both moving closer and then the ones of you dancing together and then finally, that first kiss. It was your turn to stop pressing the button and just stare.

The way the light lit up behind Frankie and illuminated his curls that he had let loose from his usual cap that he donned. The way his hands held you, his thick fingers gripping your side and the way his lips looked so perfect against yours. It was no wonder Georgia had left you two alone for a bit. It was clear even from the still photograph that there were sparks flying.

“Wow.” It was your turn to be rendered nearly speechless at the photo. Frankie let his hand come down and cover yours, his thumb running gently along the back of your hand. Goosebumps ran up your arm with each pass of his thumb. Your breath hitched as you looked at him at the same moment that he looked at you.

“Do you feel that?” he asked and at first you furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to say what but his soft brown eyes made you close your mouth again. “The spark that you see in that photo. Do you feel it?”

Your breath caught when he moved closer and your eyes closed instinctually, waiting for him to close the gap but when he didn’t, your eyes opened. “Do you?” he asked again slowly and quietly, a near whisper that made you shudder. All you could muster for energy was to nod slowly.

His smile brightened up. “Be mine then,” he offered in a whisper before his lips found yours again in a quick, soft kiss. You wanted to say yes. Oh how badly you wanted to say yes but a voice in your mind told you that this was just being swept up with the feelings the photos were invoking. That he was just overjoyed at how beautiful the photos were but in time would see how truly broken you were.

You pulled away from his kiss and out of the grasp of his hand. He frowned down at his now empty hand before looking at you. His eyes held sorrow and confusion. “I- I can’t. I’m sorry,” you murmured before you were reaching to close the laptop. Frankie grabbed your hands and moved them closer to him.

“Hey,” he said your name so you’d finally look at him. “Look, I’m sorry that that was out of line. I just- I really like you and I really like that you’re so patient with me and using my damn phone and-” he sighed, “I’m sorry if that’s moving too quickly. I-”

You held up your hand and shook your head. “N-no Frankie. It’s not you. Believe me, it’s not you.” Your voice calmed as you tentatively reached out to touch his hand. “I just- I got out of a long, painful relationship a year ago and I’m still just not quite ready, you know? I swear, it really has nothing to do with you. You’re so kind, and gentle and warm and-”

Words were cut off when he leaned in to capture your lips again. It was like he couldn’t get enough. He was addicted to the taste of you already and it was a huge factor in why he liked you so much. When he pulled away, you were breathless and tried to calm your breathing. Your eyes opened to look into his and you felt at a loss for words.

“We can take it slow,” he said, filling in the silence that overcame you as you sat so close together in the middle of a fairly busy coffee shop. You nodded slowly, the smile growing on your lips which caused him to echo it. His hand came up to the side of your face as his eyes danced around your features.

“I’d like that,” you told him honestly and felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

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themoonlily · 3 years ago

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Hi! I found your stories on a ficrec list for Eomer/Lothiriel and WOW!!! MUCH LOVE!!!!! I can't wait to read more wonderful stories from you! Can I ask what got you into this pairing, and what draws you to them? Also: any headcannons about them? (Physical/personality/hobbies/etc.)

Hi there! I am so glad to hear you like my stories. :)

I would say that I got to Éothiriel thanks to Éomer. I can't say I fell in love with him straightaway - I was your typical Aragorn fangirl back in the day (mind you, he’s still one of my favourite characters in the legendarium). I had always enjoyed the bits with Rohan in particular, and the more I watched the films, the more I liked Éomer, and once I had read the books a couple of times, I realised there was so much more to this guy. I loved his integrity, his unashamed passion, his loyalty and devotion to his family and friends, and how he strives to do better and learn.

His arc in the books is such a fascinating one. He starts out as a scion of one of the leading families of Rohan (and is a son of a princess, no less), but is orphaned along with his sister at an early age, and then raised by the King himself. What kind of a trauma did that loss leave him with, and how did it affect his relationship with his sister? Were his teenage years very difficult thanks to this? At the time of the events of LOTR, he’s a fairly young man - among the youngest of the entire cast - and yet he has this hugely important duty as the Third Marshal of the Mark. He’s passionate but also ready to put himself and his own needs aside in order to do what’s right. The whole House of Eorl dynamics are just so fascinating, even though a lot of it happens outside the actual narrative of LOTR. What are his relationships with his uncle, his cousin, and his sister? How does this partnership with Théodred grow (to the point of Saruman seeing these two as the chief obstacle of the easy conquest of Rohan)? What does it feel like to watch his beloved uncle fall under the influence of ill-intended counsels (not to mention the threat of Wormtongue against Éowyn)? Éomer is portrayed as a fairly temperamental guy, so I can only imagine the fury he must feel at the situation.

But then Théodred dies, the noose tightens around everybody’s throats, and one may just imagine the desperation and dread he must feel at this point. He’s still figthing and trying to do the right thing, even if that may now mean treason. But he’s still friendly to Aragorn and co. when they meet, recognising them as an opportunity to help Rohan almost immediately.

He’s so loyal to his family that even after he’s been disgraced and humiliated by Wormtongue by the proxy of Théoden, he still knows where the true malice is coming from, and is ready to fight again for his uncle the moment he’s released. And he slips straight back to being the King’s lieutenant without even blinking his eyes.

There’s also how Éomer becomes king. I’m fascinated with what it would feel like to him. I mean, he’s been second in line to the throne his whole life, so he probably always realised there’s a chance he’ll be king one day. But the circumstances he comes to the throne - the near ruin of his country, the tragic and violent death of his cousin he might have been able to prevent if not for Wormtongue, the brief time he has with his restored uncle, and then the whole mess of the War of the Ring... all that must feel pretty surreal for him. And, of course, the Battle of Pelennor’s fields, and his scenes in it... wow. Him nearly losing his mind over thinking his sister (and whole family) is dead, charging like a madman over the field, composing some pretty amazing poetry in the spur of the moment, and then just laughing in sheer defiance against what seems like imminent death. What a dude.

And then there are so many other interesting aspects: how he must have felt over those long years (was he unhappy? was he lonely?), what he expected his life to be versus what it turned out to be, and what it did to him to watch his family leave one by one. I could go on, but then we would be here whole day.

So, enter Lothíriel. Of course I was eager to know what happens to Éomer after the war is over, and fortunately, Tolkien had an answer ready - although he could really have told us more about them! Not that in canon there is anything to imply it was a love marriage, but personally, I don’t think that a man with a disposition like Éomer would submit to a loveless or faithless marriage (or that he’d risk his relationship with Imrahil by being faithless). I just can’t see it happening. Also I just want him to be happy, and find someone who brightens up his days, someone who won’t leave him. It’s nice to imagine him having a new start with her.

Sadly, of her personality I can’t say anything that would be indicated by canon, but if we imagine her being anything like her father, then she might be a proud, strong and brave woman. Well, she would probably have to be courageous to leave her homeland for marriage (another reason I think it was a love union, because I want her to be happy, too)! I like to imagine her finding some unexpected, unimagined freedom in Rohan, perhaps even fulfilment of ambition in her role as a queen. Also, maybe with her background and if she had access to some kind of education, she’d be uniquely qualified to helping Éomer to rule and counseling him. Perhaps she even feels some personal pride over the fact that together, they are starting a new dynasty (or a new line) to rule in Rohan. Also, having a fairly big family, I think she would be well equipped to show him the love he has missed most of his life.

I recall at some point reading the appendix about the House of Eorl, and that Éomer married Imrahil’s daughter, Lothíriel, and thinking yes, this makes sense. It’s just the sense I gleaned from the interactions and circumstances of the story. Of course Éomer would have strong feelings for Imrahil, since he was the one who saw that Éowyn was still alive and hastened her delivery to safety. Being a man of strong emotions, I think Éomer would hold Imrahil and his entire family in high regard thanks to this. Maybe it’s even a ground from which some attachment did grow between him and Lothíriel. Also, Rohirrim are a culture based on horses, and apparently the Princes of Dol Amroth also maintain a cavalry (the Swan Knights who, with Imrahil, took part in the Battle of Pelennor fields). So I see there definitely being a lot of points of connection!

Of course, it also fits the socio-political frame we are left with at the end of the story: the new unity among the Free Peoples, the task of rebuilding after the war, and this new blooming of the friendship between Rohan and Gondor. On a purely logical level, it is reasonable that he’d marry the daughter of a powerful house like Imrahil’s. But for my purely headcanonish “aesthetic” (if that’s even the right word) reasons I do like the contrast these two make: their different cultures (and all that they entail from songs and poetry to foods and habits), their union as the union of earth and sea, his gold to her silver, the warrior and the lady... also this is purely headcanon/tropes but I definitely think of them as tol/smol and embodying the pair where A is the reason B began to smile again. (Tol/smol is at least half canon because Éomer is apparently as tall as Aragorn, like 6 feet 6 if I recall right. Since he’s also a professional warrior, he’s probably built like it too.)

So, yeah - I guess that’s already a lot of reasons for why I love this pair! There’s just so much potential there, so many avenues to pursue, and so much food for imagination. If you’re interested in more of my headcanons, you could try searching the tag “Éothiriel” in my blog - I’ve got plenty of posts about them!

Thanks for the ask, and sorry for this answer being so long! I rather got carried away and Éomer deserves every bit of the love he gets, and so does Lothíriel.

#Éomer #Eomer #Lothíriel #Lothiriel #Éothiriel #eomer x lothiriel

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sinnabee · 3 years ago

Note

Any people you look up to on Tumblr ? :)

YEAH and i’m not gonna tag them because i’m about to be embarrassing as fUCK but

1. caffeinewitchcraft - absolutely incredible author, everything they post on here gives me damn shivers when i read it. my favorite prompt fill they’ve posted is one about having made up a language as a kid but you meet somebody who also knows the language you thought you made up. again - CHILLS. they just have so many wonderful ideas and their writing can really just grab ahold of you and take you on a journey, it’s amazing!

2. luckystarchild/luckychild - this is my FAVORITE fanfic author EVER. i love their yyh fanfic lucky child! i have re-read it several times (tho i am currently behind on the updates atm) and UGH i just love their writing so much!!!! again, another incredible author that i just super adore. it makes ME want to write when i read their writing! (and re-read their writing, because even if yyh isn’t my current hyperfixation atm, their writing is so fantastic. i can almost always just go back and re-read their stuff and love it all over again, i’m never not in the mood for it. :D)

3. bamsara - aaaaaaaaah i love bam’s art so much. like literally i know their fic only JUST dragged me into this sun and moon hyperfixation, but there’s also a really WILD overlap of interests?? they write (and draw) for invader zim, too, and they also love (as far as i can tell) lilo and stitch. and like??? that’s 1. my favorite movie ever and 2. my FIRST fandom ever. and their art style just gives me life?? and their writing??????? holy fuck! bam is just really incredible all around and they do SO much, even though they constantly have people stealing their art and are frustrated by dealing with that. i just think they’re super cool and talented and i frequently scroll through their art tag abshsajkd they have so many funny ideas that they turn into comics and put in their fics;;; all around just. yeah. cool. god i’m so embarrassing

4. shandzii - again, another SUPER incredible artist who’s work and art style i adore. i CRAVE. iirc they are an animator on helluva boss? which i LOVE???? and their art-style (much like helluva boss) is that wonderful cartoony style SO reminiscent of invader zim era animation (i think i am NO expert) and their stuff is pretty much ALWAYS colored, and AHHH THEIR ANIMATIONS - just a lot of incredible art i adore basically!!!! every time i see one of their animations it makes me want to try my hand at animating too, tho i have a problem with any project that can’t be finished in one sitting lol. tho i’m working on that!!! another artists that tbh when i look at their stuff it makes ME wanna draw more and improve my art :D

5. gigiree - my friend!!!!!! gigi is an INCREDIBLE author that i’ve been so SUPER DUPER LUCKY to befriend through her fic, and we’ve known each other for years now. (which is WILD to think about omg) she’s super talented and super kind, and i love throwing around ideas with her and seeing her art and all the CRAZY stuff she does (her COLORS, the elaborate BACKGROUNDS, she ANIMATES)! gigi is one of those authors that inspires ME to write more and also work on my writing, and i’m so glad that we’re bros now omg. honestly just a person that brightens up your life! sometimes i read a line of her writing that just fuckin punches me in the gut and grabs my heart in a death grip because it just, effects you. god damn. she’s incredible! not to be gay, but i’m lucky to know her and ecstatic to be her friend :D

i think those are the main ones! there are a LOT of other authors, artists, and blogs i adore - twinanimatronics, maudiemoods, bones-of-a-rabbit, thebibliosphere, cultureandseptember - those are just a few! But these ones were the first to come to mind, off the top of my head, that i had a LOT to say about. and if i gush about ALL the incredible artists and authors on tumblr that i adore, we’ll be here for days. :D

thanks for the ask anon!!! this was a fun one to answer!!!! i know gigi at the very least is likely gonna see this, but uhhh if any of these other ones do too just know that i may be embarrassed but i stand by what i said, y’all incredible :D

#ask #anon #no i will NOT be tagging anything related to those fandoms or blogs #because then they might ACTUALLY SEE IT AGSHDJSKDK #i will not stop anyone ELSE from doing so #but i will pretend i did not see it if you do #sometimes i just have to gush and be embarrassingly honest about my thoughts and feelings okay #and i fr fr adore these people’s work and their blogs so much #so yeah;;;;;#omg don’t look at me #sinna babbles

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peeterparkr · 4 years ago

Text

perfidy;tom holland|8

chapter 8: the focus

enemies to lovers au/enemies with benefits

chapter summary: y/n’s fears and tom’s thoughts.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: swearing, alcohol mention, drama

word count: 6.7k

here’s a playlist

social media before you read (IMPORTANT FOR THE CHAPTER) : Tweets & Instagram

previous chapter next chapter series masterlist

wanna be tagged?

Stay safe and here’s a doc where you can find out how to support BLM

How wonderful is it that life makes us coincide with people. How wonderful is it that two people with all of the odds of never seeing each other find each other. How amazing is it that two people can feel absolutely everything. How incredible is it that two people can fall in love?

How stupid was it that she had to make that person be Tom.

Y/N was currently debating to herself: did she really want to go there?

She stared at the blank document in front of her. She typed in some letters but there was something bothering her. She’d written a few pages already but this really wasn’t where she wanted to go with. She held her coffee in between her hands as she tried not to squint at the bright screen. She’d put on some big white t-shirt that was hanging around as some

shorts. She’d already taken a pill to help with the headache but there really wasn’t any pill that could soothe her morals. Or her heart for that matter.

And there was no pill that could calm down her thoughts. Because she had felt that spark in her eyes, that stupid smile and that gentle butterflying in her stomach. Sure, she could blame the alcohol but she really knew she couldn’t.

And it came back to that night, the yellow flowers.

She remembered how it felt. The heartbreak, the last one she’d experienced. How hard she’d fallen into that very dark place. How vocal she had been about it when being alone.

Having to pretend everything was okay because she was not supposed to be in love with him and how she was not supposed to care about him. How she had to swallow up her feelings but come home to tear herself apart.

How much her stomach hurt and how barely she could sleep. How she couldn’t talk. How she’d break down in random moments, in the shower, in the bus. and at school and pretend it was something else. Blame it on everything.

How disappointed she was. How nothing made sense. How she’d cry until she fell asleep, but she didn’t sleep at all. Waking up in the middle of the night to think about everything, to call herself a fool for even coming up with it. Losing her breath. How she would need to scream to her pillow. How somehow she’d lost a bit of herself with him.

How the days had turned grey, so grey and so long, nights seemed too short and if they ever came the moon would only get ever so brightly to wash her body to keep her awake. How she had cried so much she’d run out of tears.

How she’d changed her style. How she’d try to be more feminine. Or how she tried to comb her hair in a different way. Or her makeup. Change herself. How she had tried to change her personality. . How she couldn’t know why he couldn’t love her. What was wrong? her perfume? The lipstick? Was it her music taste?

What was wrong with her? Why did he hate her that much?

The thought would remain on her head for hours and hours. Days and nights. Weeks. Months. Years.

How she had isolated and found comfort in movies, and scenes and brightened up her day. But they didn’t make any sense, at all. Nothing did. Not even her favorite song or her favorite movie.

How nothing would make her smile. And how she’d listen to sad songs to make herself sadder and how she had to deal seeing him parade around and keep mocking her. How she had to keep on an act. Keep ok with a life when she had been so broken-hearted. How she had given so much and it hadn’t been enough.

How hard it had been because everything simply would bring it back. Like a random song on the radio, a movie scene or a book. And how hard it was seeing him everywhere, and how she had had to block his name from coming up. How she had to distance herself from his family, his friends. Her friends and her family.

How no one knew. And no one could know. What did she win by saying a man had screwed her over? What would she win by saying that man had been Tom?

She’d cried for a complete month, even more. Her tears had dried out. Not knowing if she was crying out of pain because he’d hurt her or she was crying out of self pity, because what a fool had she been.

Because she knew, she had warned herself. That he was a rock. That Tom would never love her, that he hated her. She was well aware that he had a stone cold soul, that his heart was not reachable. Not for her, at least.

She knew he was poison, she knew he was the devil in disguise, that he was no angel. That he’d break her.

And yet, she’d fallen in love with him. But that’s what she got for ignoring her own advice. She remembered the day she’d promised herself she would stop trying.

All because of yellow flowers.

She stared at the script she started and she thought about it: she couldn’t go through another heartbreak caused by Tom. She couldn’t go again through it, she couldn’t cry mid workouts, and she couldn’t shut her thoughts. How dumb she had felt, and how much it simply hurt. She needed to have her heart locked up, she couldn’t let herself feel anything.

And she didn’t. She really didn’t. She didn’t want to be hurt again. Because the last time he broke her heart, he broke her completely.

Maybe he didn’t know about it. No one did, really. Each heartbreak had been different. With Tom, there was a constant. She had to be quiet about her pain. Even when she wanted to scream and yell, she couldn’t let him know he’d won. No one could know that she was crying over him. No one could know about her frustration.

It made her nauseous thinking about it. She couldn’t go back to that place. But she needed him to go through it.

But even after the darkest storm, the sun comes out. She’d met Timmy. And he had saved her from drowning. Even after the drought. Even if it had been a crime.

Because Timmy showed her that she could be loved for being herself. Because Timmy loved every aspect that made her. From the way she liked to let the tears dry on their own or how she always had post-it’s hanging around for her notes. Because Timmy loved that y/n liked to watch the vinyl roll as it played, and because Timmy loved the way she’d run out of breath whenever she laughed.

With Timmy, she’d stare at windows and enjoy walks in the rain. It was calm. And she was breathing again. even underwater She didn’t have to worry about her makeup, or anything. Timmy had shown her how to love herself. Maybe that’s why he was still hanging on the Polaroids. Because he had learned to love her when she was down and he managed to pull her up.

Not that Tom had ever told her anything about herself but y/n with her complicated mind, only could wonder why he hated her. Why did the person she’d loved the most hated her so ardently? Why couldn’t he love her? Why wasn’t she enough?

Timmy had taught her something, loving is simple. Timmy had taught her she was enough.

She was more frustrated this time, not only would she get hurt if he didn’t fall in love with her but she’d have no script. Still, she was writing,

Eventually, he finally walked into the kitchen bare chested, he’d wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her shoulder, her neck and finally ended on her cheek. She’d been quick to close the document and then stared at him, and expected him to throw in something that would break her again. Hadn’t she met Timmy she’d probably already be crying. But maybe she’d built up a shield so high that she wouldn’t be bothered by him anymore. Even if she felt the pain on her chest.

“Morning,” he sheepishly said as he continued to pepper her neck with kisses.

“I made you coffee,” she whispered as she closed her MacBook.

“Sh, you’re being too loud,” he nuzzled into her neck. “I’m never drinking wine again.”

She chuckled. “Here ,” she pushed a box of aspirins towards him. “I wasn’t going to give you anything, thought it’d be a good way to attack my enemy. But I guess, having some pity is a benefit we should have.”

He grabbed the pill and then chuckled as he searched for his water, he downed two glasses before he took the pill.

“Your fans have made their way to my Instagram, by the way, haven't checked any of the notifications and I really don’t want to,” she admitted.

“Sorry.”

She didn’t say anything. She waited for him to speak, to destroy her and somehow make her insecure again. Even if the glance he was giving her could make anyone believe he liked her, she was just waiting to be stabbed.

“You have a lot of Polaroids,” he commented.

“Not all of them are actually Polaroids but I edited some and printed them out, they’re important,” she mentioned.

He raised his brows. “What is the importance of them?” As he sipped from the bitter coffee.

“Moments, memories, things that made me who I am,” she shrugged.

“And Timmy made you who you are today?” He chuckled.

She watched him. “In many ways, yes.”

He scrunched his nose. “So you’re not taking them off?”

“Why would I?” She questioned as she reached over to the cookies she’d baked the day before, pulling the plate towards her.

“You broke up,” Tom pushed. “You should hate him.”

“I don’t hate him, besides even if I did. Wouldn’t take him off. I hate you and you’re up there.”

“You have the worst pictures of me,” he pointed out.

“I know,” she smirked. “But you’re up there... even if I don’t like to admit it, Tom, you’re a very important part of my life.”

“Am I?”

She looked at him. “I grew up with you. Yes.”

“What would make you take a picture off?”

“I’ve taken some off for some time,”she admitted. “But it meant that I really, really didn’t want to see their face.”

“What’s your favorite picture there?”he grinned.

She smiled to herself. “I’ll show you,” she said as she headed back to her room. He followed her with curiosity. She looked up for the picture, one of Tim’s, the one with the raincoat as he’s looking up in the rain.

He rolled his eyes. “Why?”

“What?” She frowned.

“Why this one with Tim. I see all these pictures and some of them, I know you were the happiest.”

“It’s the moment I knew I was truly, madly deeply in love with him,” she explained as she sat down on her bed again. The moment she was finally breathing again.

“The moment you knew? Look, I… I think love is something gradual, there’s not a moment that you wake up one day and realize you’re in love.”

“No, but there is a moment you realize it,” she pointed out.

He frowned, sitting beside her. “When you realize it?”

“Yes, it’s like that climax point in a movie, it was that one with Tim,” she stared at the picture. The way he was smiling, the way the rain covered him down.

Tom leaned over to see it. “Really?”

“You know those scenes in movies when everything just… makes sense as they’re perfect?” She smiled. “How even though there is probably a lot going on, the lights are hitting the main character perfectly, the focus is only on them, and how the music is subtly playing just building up the emotion, and how their own feelings fade in, maybe a close up, and you know it as everything falls into place.”

He frowned comprehensively. “Right.”

“Well, that day…. I felt it, I saw it, and he was that focus and I knew it. I was so in love with him.”

“When was this?”

“It was autumn.”

He chuckled.

“Don’t laugh,” you wanted.

“No, I won’t, sorry. It’s cause I hardly believe you could feel something as inspiring… with Timothée,” he pronounced his name with such venom.

She ignored him. “We had been walking around, it was a date and I remember holding his arm, it was cold and it was raining just slightly, but we would go to this tea house…”

“Did you get pneumonia?”

She rolled her eyes. “and we were heading to this library first but it started to rain harder but...everything fell into place, we tried to run for a place to cover ourselves but then… something magical happened as if it was straight out of a movie,” she grinned. “a guy opened his balcony window and started to play the cello… You know that Bach song everyone knows?” She grinned.

Tom blinked.

“And I found cover under a perfume shop’s shade and I called for him but he was… too entranced by it, I remember he looked up to the guy in his balcony and he just smiled…and he called me out to go in the rain with him, and I had to take a picture because the look in his eyes and… the way he was the main character…I just knew it then. I was so in love with him.”

And even if she wasn’t raining, she had finally found a way out to breath.

Tom cleared his throat. “You’re too poetic sometimes.”

“Well haven’t you ever felt it? I know you’ve been in love,” she pointed out.

“Yes but it’s never worked out,” he clenched his jaw. “And it didn’t work out for you either.”

“A break up doesn’t necessarily mean it didn’t work out,” she debated.

“Well mine didn’t.”

“Why is that?”

“I don’t… I… look, that conversation is definitely not included in our benefits,” he scowled as he stood up searching for his phone.

“Sorry I thought since I told you—“

“You thought wrong,” he grunted.

She closed her eyes. “Of course.”

The doorbell rang just in time to make this less awkward, she left her room as he plopped down back on the bed to stare at his phone.

There needed to be a way to know what had him falling in love, of course that would take a while. Maybe a little more wine, get him all turned on again and he’d be spilling it all.

But she walked to the door, it ran again, triggering her headache.

“Coming!”

She slightly opened the door to see who was there, and little did she expect… him. She almost fainted as she saw his pretty face, with his curls falling down his green perfect eyes, as his hands held pastel colored flowers.

“Oh my god,” were the only words that had come out. “Tom—I mean… TIMMY!”

“Y/N!” He started but y/n closed the door. “Y/N?” He called out again.

And she remembered, they had agreed on having brunch together. She cursed under her her breath every possible bad word she knew.

She opened the door again to see a confused Timothée.

He frowned, “y/n.”

Then she cleared her throat. “Give me a sec—“

“Y/N—“

But she’d closed the door again and rushed to pick up any trace of last night, then she ran to her room to see a half naked Tom with his cup of coffee, scrolling through his phone. She threw his clothes at him.

“Hey!” He complained.

“Shut up!”

“Who was it—“

“Sh!” She jumped slightly in frustration. “It’s Timmy.”

“Timmy.”

“Oh my god, he can’t know,” she chirped. “I—“

“What is he doing here?”

“I’m having brunch with him and then we’d go together to Harry’s…”

“He’s coming?” Tom frowned.

“Emma invited him,” she was so nervous.”but oh my god he can’t know about this so you’re going to stay quiet and hide.”

“C’mon y/n—“he laughed, “why can’t he know?”

“You want me to tell your brothers and friends too?”

“No—“

“Then?”

“Fine, I’ll stay here. I’ll be quiet.” He frowned. “But why are you going out with him?”

“It’s—my business, and I don’t think asking those kind of questions are included in our… benefits,” she searched in for some clothes, picking out a pretty dress. “now I’m gonna go let him in and I’m going to take a shower and I need you to—“

“Is that an invitation?” He asked with a smirk.

“No, you’re ugly,” she answered. “And I need you to stay here quietly.”

“C’mon babe,” he laughed.

She shot him a death glare and threw a pillow at him, “shut up!”

“What was that For?”

“Keep quiet.”

“Babe,” he grabbed her arm.

“Fellow associate,” she frowned as she watched him.

He only pulled her over to kiss her. She didn’t kiss him back.

He blinked as he pulled away. “Hey.”

“Keep quiet.”

He rolled his eyes, watching her leave the room, closing the door.

He then heard her: “Timmy! Hi, sorry I’m… you can come in, sorry, I uh… I’ll be quick alright?”

“Yeah, of course—Uh, These are for you.”

“They’re beautiful, Tim, thank you… now uh, I… you can hang around here in the kitchen if you want to—I’ll just take a shower“

“Yeah,’course—“

Tom rolled his eyes, as he mimicked Timmy. He was fumed. Disgusted.

Tom could hear the water running now from the shower. Y/n’s apartment was very small, that made it cute but it was very small that there was no wonder why she had asked him to stay quiet.

“So, y/n.” Tom heard Timmy say. “Busy night?”

Tom smirked to himself.

“Hm?” Y/N answered. “Not really! Very calm actually!”

Tom frowned.

”really?” Timmy pushed. “I saw Tom was here.”

Tom frowned. How did he know?

“How did you—Yeah he came for dinner, nothing special we went over his schedule.”

“With wine?” Timmy asked.

“You really think I would stand him without it?” Y/N yelled back with a laugh. “But he was long gone.”

“And then you got drunk by yourself—“

“I—what?” Y/N asked.

Tim laughed, “you posted a… very nice picture.”

“I—what?”

Tom frowned as he went straight to Instagram. And he saw it, the picture he had very well snapped of y/n. She posted it. Of course Tom was nowhere in sight but if people connected the dots… of course people would think stuff. Thankfully, Tom knew, Harry probably was at Emma’s, and he hadn’t noticed that Tom hadn’t slept home. But Harrison.

He’d have to deal with Harrison.

“Aaaah,” y/n said. “What did I post? I actually did get very drunk by myself…”

Tim didn’t answer.

Tom cursed under his breath. He had to leave now, because he didn’t really need to give an explanation to Harrison. Haz probably already was up. Did Harrison know he was not home yet?

Tom even stopped listening to the awkward banter between y/n and Tim. He didn't care anymore. He had his own reasons to freak out. And y/n and Timmy started a very dumb conversation. Even if it wasn’t, Tom was annoyed by Timothee.

Even if the guy had done nothing wrong. But Tom did have his reasons to hate him. Being bloody perfect for y/n was the biggest reason, of course. And that y/n was so smitten with him. If y/n ever looked at him the way she stared at Timothee, and if she listened the way she listened to Tim, Tom would never ever be able to say he hated her.

Tom didn’t even realize when y/n had walked into the room, also freaking out about the picture.

“We need some damage control,” that’s all she said before handing him the keys to her apartment so he’d close it up.

Before Tom knew it he was quietly walking into his place, with his t-shirt stained with wine, and probably stained with the infamous walk of shame. Tom was praying to himself that he wouldn’t see Harrison. And he thanked everything in existence that Harry had stayed at Emma’s and that the party would be at her place so there was no reason as to why Harry would know.

Tom quietly tiptoed his way in but little did he know he was expected.

“Good morning!” Harrison greeted him.

“I—went to my—car.”

“Are you gonna tell me you went to your car which clearly wasn’t here all night? And probably was at y/n’s just like you were.”

“No-uh.”

“Amazing walk of shame you’ve got going on there,” Harrison sassed. “So are you gonna tell me what’s going on? Or are you gonna invent something like y/n did last time and claimed she watched porn? Did you watch porn at her place now?” Haz smirked as he took a sip of the tea he had in his hand.

Tom was screwed. He couldn’t lie to his best friend.

“I—“

“Nice t-shirt, is it designer?” Haz chuckled. “Is it by the same designer of y/n’s glass of wine in her last picture?”

“It’s nothing—“

“Is it really nothing?” Haz laughed. “Just like the fact that when I was on set I might have seen you sneak a kiss on her cheek?,” Haz smirked. “I didn’t mention it but I might as well do it right now before you come up with any stupid excuses.”

“I—“

“We ain’t got all day, Tom,”Haz insisted.

Tom squinted. “It’s nothing—“

“Nothing?”

“It doesn’t mean anything.”

Harrison frowned. “Sit down, Thomas. You’ve got a lot of explaining to do.”

Tom had to sit down and deal with the pounding headache he was facing not only because of the alcohol he had had last night but now because he really had no excuse to give to Harrison.

“So?” Haz crossed his arms.

“I… well.”

“You slept with her, we both know that,” Haz sassed.

“I…. did.” Tom cleared his throat.

Haz expected him to elaborate.

“Twice,” Tom continued. “Yeah, once when… a few weeks ago, and… well last night.”

“How did it—“

“The first time?” Tom gulped. “I may have… hinted at it, I think it just… led to it. We made out in the car and we’d been flirting all night. And… we have… we have been having this whole game I dunno, when we were teasing each other, and I don’t know… we made out a few more times but… last night, we were talking about everything, we had had dinner, we had laughed, and then I just kissed her and it escalated and—I dunno it just happened.”

“Just happened.”

“And… well, I don’t know, we agreed on being enemies with benefits.”

“What even is that?”

“Means that we can continue hating each other but we get to fuck I guess,” Tom looked away. “Sounds stupid don’t even know why I accepted it.”

Haz raised his brows. “Well… why did you?”

“I just did.” Tom gulped.

Harrison frowned. “Your brother was bloody in love with her and you hate her,” he said condescendingly. “Tom this is—“

“What if I don’t?”

“You don’t—what?”

Tom stood up. “I’m very bloody aware he was in love with her but he’s with Emma now. And I’m spending time with y/n… and we are both single and so far the sex has been great.”

“I guess it’s not a crime Tom, but this is insane…You hate her.”

“I don’t alright?” Tom admitted, he was sweating. “I’ve been bloody in love with her my whole fucking life and now I… Harry moved on.”

Harrison watched him. “Well that’s… such a turn of events.”

“Yes I loved her okay? Is it that big of a crime?” Tom scoffed. “And I—I also do hate her because I wasn’t supposed to love her alright?” Tom rubbed his face. “I never wanted to hurt Harry and okay, had she been in love with Harry instead of me…”

“She loved you at some point, didn’t she?”

“When we were younger, just a crush,” Tom continued, well aware that y/n had told him only last night that he had been her first love. “But I hated her because I…”

“You hate her and you’re in love with her.”

“I hate her because I shouldn’t be in love with her, not when my brother loves her too and he deserves her, and she deserves someone like him. Someone who treated her right, who didn’t bother her to get her attention.”

Harrison watched him, curiously. He was slightly shocked but not really. “I’m… this isn’t.”

“And look, maybe it’s stupid but Harry moved on and now she’s not dating that stupid Timothee—and I thought hey this might be my chance, but the only problem is still Timothée, that dumb man.”

“You don’t have to come for Tim-“

“But look, she’s not over him, she literally woke up, and left to have breakfast with him—“

Haz watched him. “You’ve literally treated her so badly her entire life—“

“I know, I've been an asshole my whole life, I guess I tried to make her fall in love with Harry instead,” Tom sighed. “Look, I know she’ll never be able to—I noticed it, she doesn’t look at me the way she—God, just this morning when she saw a picture of Timothée, her eyes lit up, he’s her bloody everything.”

Harrison watched him. “But you’re in love with her.”

“Yes and I know I can’t—I know I can’t have her because I have fucked up so many times and if I did do anything, Harry would be devastated even if he’s over her…” I can at least have this, this whole enemies with benefits bullshit.”

Harrison watched him. “And would you try anything else?”

Tom sighed, “maybe,” he coughed. “But it’s—when I’ve kissed her, she—I know she doesn't feel anything.”

“Do you? Have you shown her?”

“I don’t know how, and this—this has only been full of lust and I know… this doesn’t feel like it’s supposed to feel like alright? It feels like we are in a place where we only want to hurt each other.”

“Hurt each other? Don’t you love her?”

“It’s a matter of habit, I guess…” Tom gulped. “Old habits that didn’t wear out. It’s in my nature I guess.”

His friend stayed quiet, trying to process the information he was just given.

“Well change,” Haz said. “If you love her—“

“I won’t. I’m okay with this,” Tom lied. He cleared his throat. “But look Harry can’t know because even if he doesn’t know I love her he’ll think I’m just using her and if he knew I loved her he’d encourage me to try something and in any way that’ll break his heart…”

Harrison rolled his eyes. “I won’t tell anyone,” Haz sighed. “But Tom you’re just playing with something that—I don’t know man, maybe try something?”

“Why?”

“Harry wouldn’t mind if he knew you dated her, he’d mind if he knew you were doing this,” Haz pushed.

“But she won’t—give in,” Tom sighed. “I know.” Tom paused. “I know but… maybe I’ll just… I’m just scared that all my life I’ve told her that she’s always found a way to make every wrong decision and I know I’m just another one, alright? I’m another mistake she’s making.”

Harrison raised a brow.

“Gee, I’ve been talking too much with her. I'll be getting all poetic like her but—I know that Timmy or Harry would be right for her but I really don’t want her to see that. I want her to choose the wrong option. I am the wrong option here.”

Harrison watched her. “I don’t know man, just be careful because you might end up hurting several people in here… now go get dressed and presentable, we need to head to Harry’s party.”

Somehow telling Harrison had not soothed any of his thoughts. Because Tom knew this was a wrong turn and that anything that would lean on from this. He was incredibly confused.

Tom knew that he’d hurt y/n in very many ways, sometimes he’d meant it, some others, mostly he hadn’t. But we can understand that love is so complicated. He had never seen her cry in front of him, not really. Sure he knew that she was hurt but she always looked back like saying; you'll get my revenge. Maybe she had been incredibly good at hiding it or maybe she’d never been hurt at all.

Just as they continued to grow up y/n would show less and less importance to Tom. Even this morning when she’d refused to kiss him back, as if saying you’re not going to win this one.

And Tom wanted to prove her wrong. He wanted to show her how a real kiss should taste like, and he wanted her to choose a different path. Because he saw y/n had always been struggling while climbing up the same tree. The same songs. Stuck in a place where she wouldn’t get out of.

But that made her. All the small details. when you’ve been in love with someone you notice the little details that make a person.

Maybe Tom wanted to show her a different part. And maybe he had just by last night having genuine fun with her. Not meaning about sex of course, but everything else.

The way he had heard her run out of breath from laughter or the way she had offered him a spoonful of the cookie dough. So simple. So real.

Love is strange. Because what Tom hadn’t told Harrison was that Tom was also waiting to be stabbed. He was also waiting y/n to betray him. And y/n could hurt him more, because she had also been so good at hurting him.

Because y/n had hurt him too. Not in the ways one would expect it. But also in the same way that he couldn’t really look at yellow flowers anymore. Because he’d regretted it and she had shut him out. And… he couldn’t be thinking about that.

Not when she was standing right in front of him, with her hair flowing as she laughed so melodically. The light was hitting her just in the spot. Everyone in the party was moving but she was the only focus. Her floral dress matched her pink lipsticks. Pink lips. Everything around her had stopped. She was the only spotlight needed, even if Timothee, Emma and Harry were laughing with her. They went silent to Tom

They were laughing at the cookies y/n had made, with the flower petals she’d put on. The aesthetic had been more important.

And Tom had to look away because he was staring too long. And he’d been transported back to a few months ago, when Tim and Y/N were still a thing. And just seeing them made Tom realize that they probably still were. Not dating but this…

It hurt. It hurt knowing he wasn’t the right choice. Yet… y/n looked up just once and gave him that stare. The kind where she basically undressed him with a glance.

He wondered how she was feeling because she had been, even if she was laughing, she had been extremely weird.

Though Tom had only had one same thought the whole day. He needed to buy a Polaroid. But that was the least he should care about. Because his brother had ignored him, all day long.

And y/n had arrived with Timothée, and she had been laughing all this time. And Tim had given him a weird look, but Timothee had been so cocky this evening as if he knew a secret that Tom didn’t.

But y/n and Tom were normal, mocking each other, rolling their eyes at each other and acting like usual. Nothing to suspect there. But y/n had kept on a little game, if she ever walked behind Tom she’d brush a hand on his lower back, or the way she’d sometimes stop and look at him, biting her lip slightly.

She was driving him crazy.

Sam had asked Tom about y/n’s night, and Haz had stepped in.

“Yeah, y/n must have been so tired of Tom that she probably had to black out to forget them, Tom came home pretty early.”

And everyone was around Harry and Emma couldn’t take her eyes off of him. They would miss him.

But Harry had been quiet. Harry hadn’t looked at Tom. He had talked to anyone else but Tom. Was he angry?

Tom walked over to Harry, Emma, and Tuwaine.

Tim, Haz and Y/N were talking to some other friends of them.

“I thought they had broken up,” Tom commented with poison as he eyed them.

“They’re still friends,” Emma commented, “and if we are honest they’re gonna get back together any time soon.”

“Wouldn't say that,” Tom insisted.

“You wouldn’t?” Harry wondered. “Did she say that at your dinner last night?”

Tuwaine laughed. “I’m impressed you guys haven’t killed each other by now.”

Emma laughed, “I don’t know how y/n is dealing with it, my girl, she is so strong, having her ex and her worst enemy in the same room…”

Tuwaine scrunched his nose. “Poor y/n.”

Harry chuckled. “Yes.”

“But they…” Tuwaine watched them. “They seem like they’re alright.”

“I don’t really understand why they broke up. They’re so perfect together,” Harry agreed, watching them.

Emma shrugged. “Dunno, and besides this whole best friends dating each other best friends was amazing.”

Tom coughed. “Right.”

“But no, I’m sad to tell you,”Harry chuckled. “I know y/n, and she’s…”Harry gulped. “Let’s say they’re not at the same place you and I are,” Harry grinned as he kissed Emma. “God, I love you.”

Tuwaine and Tom gave each other a glance and decided to walk away. They truly didn’t want to be in their way.

Tom wondered if Harry was so in love with Emma why had it bothered him that he had had dinner with y/n? What bothered him? Emma was so in love with him. And Harry was so in love with her. Emma was like… anything Harry had wished for.

But the party continued.

And Tom and Tuwaine ended up talking about the movie, about Tuwaines life and about everything that was going on.

But Tom kept looking at how Timothee hadn’t left y/n’s side.

“It’s not me, right? Tim is extremely annoying,” Tom pointed out.

Tuwaine laughed. “What? The guy’s a sweetheart.”

“He’s not, he’s boring, and—“Tom rolled his eyes as he saw everyone laughing exactly at something Timothee had said. “And he's really not handsome.”

Tuwaine frowned. “I dunno about that, I just know he’s too… what was the word y/n used? Dreamy.”

“He wouldn’t appear in dreams, he’s a nightmare,” Tom scoffed. “What did he see in him?”

“I don’t know,” Tuwaine chuckled. “I—why are you asking me this?”

Harrison approached them. “What are we talking about?”

“Why Tim is so dreamy,” Tuwaine laughed. “Look at his eyes,” Tuwaine chanted laughing.

Haz glanced behind him and then raised his brows at Tom. “Really?”

“I’m just curious.”

“Probably because he treated her like he was the only girl in the room and he looks at her so nicely and he hasn’t broken her heart multiple times and he’s not an asshole, and doesn’t constantly mock her,” Haz sassed.

“What?” Tuwaine laughed. “That sounds so specific.”

Haz laughed. “I know.”

Tom rolled his eyes as he turned to y/n again and she locked her sight with him and then slightly motioned away. She excused herself from her friends and headed to the restroom, Tom waited for a decent amount of time before heading after her.

He knocked on the door, “it’s me.”

Y/n opened it and before checking it was cleared she dragged him inside, locking the door.

“How’s that damage control going?” She asked him.

He wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her close to him. “Hi.”

“Thomas, not the time,” she rolled her eyes, but her hands landed on his chest anyway. “What did you do with Haz?”

He scrunched his nose. “He didn’t notice,” he lied.

“Good, Tommy—I mean,” she blinked, “Timmy did ask but I told him a lie.”

“Don’t you ever dare confuse me with him again,” Tom threatened.

She smirked. “Or what?”

Tom pushed her up against the wall, “or else…” his lips connected with her neck. She instantly closed her eyes.

But someone knocked on the door and y/n instantly pushed him away.

“Uh… coming!” Tom said.

“What?” Y/n mouthed.

“Oh okay, sorry!” It was Harry. Tom and y/n panicked. “Hey Tom, did you see y/n?”

“No I didn't, why would I? I’m in the bathroom man, and I’m definitely not up for a conversation,” Tom snapped.

“Right, sorry, I’ll… should I call her?” Harry asked.

“No, no man…”

And y/n quickly pulled out her phone and silenced it before anything else could go wrong.

“I—Tom, actually can you come out already? I need to talk to you.”

“Man. I’m kind of… busy,” Tom said again. Tom licked his lips, as he then pointed to the shower.

“What?” Y/N mouthed again.

“Hide there,” Tom whispered.

Y/N frowned but got into the shower and hid behind the curtains.

Tom washed his hands and walked out to face his brother, closing the door.

“What?” Tom wondered.

“What happened last night?” Harry asked.

Tom cleared his throat. “I went to y/n’s place, had dinner, we discussed the schedule and that’s it.”

“Tom, don’t play with her,” Harry begged him.

“What?” Tom frowned.

Harry took a deep breath. “Look… I… we both know you guys have your relationship but I really don’t want you hurting her anymore, okay?”

“I’m not—doing anything.”

“Tom but you know how she used to feel about you,” Harry pushed. “I don’t want you messing her up anymore because okay, if you make her cry once again I’m not gonna be there and—“

“Harry, Harry, Harry, I genuinely am not going to do anything to hurt her, things have changed okay, we are… kind of friends.”

Harry sighed. “Fine—I am just worried okay?”

“Yes okay.”

Harry cleared his throat. “Well I’m—“he pointed to the bathroom.

“Aaa—-ahhh, hey good luck there Harry! Going into the bathroom! Good for you! What are you—what are you doing there?”

“Peeing, thanks for asking.” Harry scowled.

“GOOD LUCK IN THE RESTROOM WHILE YOU PEE!” Tom yelled again.

Harry frowned and punched Tom in the shoulder, but got there anyway.

Tom chuckled to himself, before taking out to text y/n, warning her.

But before he knew it y/n had come back to the living room and glared at him.

They gathered up to say their goodbyes, and good luck to Harry. It really wasn’t sentimental, maybe only coming from Sam and Tom, wishing their brother their best good and congratulating him. It was just people happily giving their advice and nice words.

“Thanks to everyone I—this is very nice coming from all of you,” Harry chuckled as he was looking at Emma. “Uh—well, tomorrow it’s completing a dream one and—I… but my dream wouldn’t be complete without Emma here, my love.”

Emma grinned as she stood up, taking Harry’s hand.

“Well we have another announcement,” Harry said nervously. “Well uh—“

“We’re engaged!” Emma announced showing her hand up as a big ring was adorning her hand.

“What?” Was the only word that was spreading around the room.

And suddenly the focus was only on that ring.

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mobagehelllocal · 4 years ago

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“dati” ver ii - kalim, vil, idia & malleus

A/N: Wah, this got so long I had to split it into two parts ;u; So here’s some information if you didn’t read ver i, and went straight for ver ii!

The Reader, is different from the actual MC of TWST!

“Dati” is a pretty difficult word to translate, because it’s just one word but--it can mean so much. For the sake of this story, you can interpret its meaning as “a long time ago”.

Due to the general premise, the reader is female!

The prologue for ver ii “dati” is the same prologue for ver i!

Link to the concept design for the uniform!

Inspired by:

“Dati” by Sam Concepcion, Tippy Dos Santos and Quest. (I encourage you to listen to it OR read the English lyrics.)

“If You Can Dream” by the Disney Princesses. (I would link both but my posts dont appear if I do that ;u;)

So, without further ado, let’s get into it!~

Other versions: ver i (riddle, leona, azul), ver ii (this)

"--as you already know. We held a school-wide meeting about the week long exchange program with the all-females private school, Garden Academy. Professors Divus Crewel and Mozus Trein accompanied our delegates to Garden Academy this morning,” Dire Crowley peered at his students through his black mask, “while Professor Mozus Trein stayed with our delegates, Professor Divus Crewel escorted the delegates from Garden Academy to Night Raven College.”

Excited whispers broke out in the crowd. Crowley cleared his throat once, then again--before everyone settled down. The Headmaster huffed audibly at that.

“I’ll be using this morning meeting to introduce the delegates,” Crowley turned to the left side of the stage. He motioned at Crewel who was standing back stage with a Garden Academy professor and her students. “Now then, please give a hand for--”

In the crowd, his eyes widened.

In turn, you were pretty excited too. You had held off telling your friend about you coming to his school because you wanted to surprise him.

All you girls had been assigned to a particular dorm, not to sleep in--but rather, to experience. Each dorm in NRC (much like GA), had their own unique culture. So, to truly experience the college meant you all needed to immerse yourselves in the different dorms and their cultures. You had to sneakily reconfirm with him what his dorm was, to make sure you got assigned to the correct one.

And now that you were here...

“Alright ladies,” Professor Radcliffe said kindly, “we will reconvene here at 5PM to return to the dorm Headmaster Crowley so generously set aside for us.”

“Yes Professor.” Radcliffe eyed all of you girls, before she sighed with an exasperated smile. You were all very excited, and doing very little to hide that.

“Okay, I know you want to go--but one last thing,” you all let out loud, false and very unladylike groans that Radcliffe ignored. “Remember to be beautiful--”

“At heart.” you all recited, familiar with your school’s motto.

“Go on then,” Radcliffe finally said, “the dorm heads and their assistants should be waiting outside for all of you.”

With a cheer, you all parted ways.

Kalim‘s eyes brightened as he caught sight of you again.

“Jamil! Jamil! Look!” he tugged on the other boy’s sleeves as he pointed you out to the crowd. “So it really is [Name]!”

“They did announce her full name on the stage, Kalim.” Jamil said rather blandly, not that Kalim was affected by his exasperated tone.

“Kalim! Jamil!” Your uniform--the pale green of House Water Lily, the House of Passion--swished around you as you came to a stop before the two boys that you hadn’t seen in ages.

“It’s been awhile.” You reached for their hands and clasped them with yours--at which both boys blushed. While Kalim gave you a goofy smile, Jamil instantly looked away.

You had spent a couple of months as a child in the Land of Hot Sands because your parents were just beginning to expand your family owned restaurant--Tiana’s Palace--into that country. You had met Kalim, then Jamil because your parents were business partners with Kalim’s father.

It was hard not to enjoy their friendship. Kalim--was fun loving and easy going. Jamil--was calm and attentive. When you were getting exhausted by Kalim’s energy, Jamil knew when to step in and what to say to calm him down. They were perfectly balanced, and you remembered them fondly.

Needless to say...

When it had been time for you to return to your country, there were a lot of tears.

“Sniff... why are you leaving?” Kalim cried, “I thought we would be friends forever!”

“I--I don’t want to leave too!” you shook, snot dripped down your nose.

“Kalim... [Name] has to go back.” Jamil said slowly, but even his eyes were glassy and wet.

“Wah!” You sniffled as you wrapped both of your arms around the two boys who became so dear to you.

“I--it’s not like we won’t meet again!” Jamil protested, as he too began to truly join in the crying fest.

“Waaah! Don’t leave [Name]!” Kalim wailed loudly.

“B--but I can’t stay.” you sobbed. “I tried already...”

(Behind you the adults were chuckling to themselves at the drama the kids were causing... had they not realized they could just ask them to keep in contact...?)

(But to a child, the world seemed infinite. It didn’t seem to have an end.

To the three of you, it truly felt like a final farewell.)

“Promise, we won’t forget each other?” you demanded as you pulled back. The two boys shared a glance through their tears and turned back to you with a determined nod.

“Promise we’ll always be friends, no matter what!” Kalim said. In turn you and Jamil nodded pretty determinedly.

Then you and Kalim turned to Jamil--you waited for him to make a promise too. He flushed at suddenly being put on the spot, before his eyes light up and he said--

“Then we promise--to meet up again, one day? Here?”

You and Kalim nodded vigorously at that.

As your parents took you a way, you all wailed pretty loudly.

“You can see them again one day.” your mother had said, confused.

“But it doesn’t mean I won’t miss them when I can’t see them.” you said in a solemn tone. Your parents exchanged looks amused looks.

“I’m surprised you got so attached to those two.”

“They were fun to play with.”

“I’m sure they were sweetie. Now get some rest.”

There was some time where you all attempted to exchange letters--since the MagiCam had yet to be developed to a point where international instant messaging was possible.

However...

Children were fickle creatures.

Within a few months, you all eventually found something of more interest than a friend from a distant place who you might not see again.

Your interests in each other waned away, until it became a distant, fond and somewhat embarrassing memory.

That is until...

“Hey [Name], did you sign up for the Night Raven College exchange program?” You looked up from the recipe book that you were reading.

“Yeah I did, why?”

“Did you know the model, Vil Schoenheit goes there?”

“Who is Vil?” Your friend gasped dramatically before she rolled her eyes. “Figures you wouldn’t know who Vil Schoenheit is. Come here.” She showed you pictures of Vil’s MagiCam account. There were some photos of the school, and rarer still--photos of other people aside from Vil himself.

Which, you know--if you had a face like that, you’d totally fill your MagiCam with just selfies.

“Oh Sweet Evangeline,” your friend sighed dreamily, “NRC boys are definitely cuter than RSA boys--and I swear I’m challenging all the RSA stans to try saying otherwise over my dead body--” You snickered at her rant, before a certain photo caught your eye.

“Oh is that...”

“Oh holy Evangeline--” your friend began to wheeze. “I think these are all the Dorm Leaders for this school year--” she clicked onto the photo to open the post. Your friend was right--Vil had noted that this was this year’s NRC Dorm Leader list.

“Malleus Draconia-- naturally. Vil Schoenheit--NATURALLY.” your friend giggled in excitement, “Oh, I guess Leona Kingscholar is repeating a year... No idea who Riddle Rosehearts, Azul Ashengrotto or Idia Shroud is--and this guy is--”

“Kalim Al-Asim.” you whispered. If you shut your eyes, you could hear the wind whistle, the laughter of two boys, the joyous shrieking of a girl--and a magic carpet ride across the wide expanse of the sky. Your friend arched a brow at you.

“Do you know him?”

“I think I do.” you hesitated, the sound of laughter still rang in your ears. “I’m pretty sure I met him when I was a kid... when I travelled around with my family.”

“Oooh, you should totally try and see if he remembers. He’s cute.”

“We were kids.” you tried to explain to your friend but she only waved a dismissive hand.

“You aren’t now. Also childhood romance trope is so cute, you gotta let me see it first hand.” your friend grabbed your phone and typed in the tagged username of Kalim Al-Asim.

{”Hi Kalim! Do you remember me? I’m [Name] [Surname].”}

{”Like [Name] [Surname]? Like Tiana’s Place? Yes! Oh Sorceror, how’d you find me?”}

{”Well funny story...”}

And the rest was history.

Jamil took awhile to come around, but you had a video call with the two, and after naming a particular embarrassing moment--Jamil had easily been convinced that it was actually you.

That had been a few months before the actual exchange, and you chose not to tell them about your part in it so you could surprise them once you got up on stage.

Surprise them you did.

The moment they announced your name, Kalim shouted, and Jamil had face palmed.

It was another memory to add to the ones you held dearly.

Now you were seated in Scarabia’s dorms, as you happily enjoyed the grand feast and parade prepared by Jamil and Kalim.

As Kalim flopped onto the seat next to yours, he shot you a wide grin.

“Are you enjoying yourself?”

“I am!” you hummed, “I haven’t been anywhere close to the Land of Hot Sands recently...” you put your spoon down and smiled. “The food is really good too! This is the best version of your cuisine that I have tasted. My compliments to the chef for sure! I’d love to take a peek at the recipe.” On your other side Jamil choked, and you turned to him with a confused expression.

“Are you okay, Jamil?” you asked, concerned.

“Hahah, he was probably surprised at the praise! Jamil cooked everything after all!”

“Woah, you did? We definitely should exchange recipes.” with a particularly red face, Jamil nodded his assent before he excused himself.

“I hope he’s okay.”

“It’s fine! He’s having a hard time expressing it, but he’s really excited to see you.” Kalim peered at you curiously. “I am too, of course.”

“Same.” you agreed. “It’s a little sad we lost contact.”

“Well, finding each other now was pretty fun! So I think it was worth it.” You giggled in response.

“I’ll have to agree with you, Kalim.”

You both turned back to the front to watch the parade when Kalim spoke up again.

“Hey [Name]?”

“Hm?”

“This time... let’s not lose each other, okay?” You turned back to Kalim, surprised at the change of his tone. You couldn’t help but let your expression melt into a soft one.

“Mhm! This time... let’s keep those promises.” You two shared a grin, as the parade finished off with fireworks.

When Vil saw you hop up onto the stage, he had definitely been surprised. He hadn’t expected to see you--though now that he thought about it, it had been so out of the blue of you to ask him about whether or not he was in Pomefiore.

Then again he had been busy with other things... So he hadn’t thought too much on it. You were, after all, the type of person who brought up something from ten years in the past simply because you suddenly remembered it. He had assumed it had been something like that.

Vil stood with Rook by his side, his arms crossed as he waited for the Garden Academy students to exit the Mirror Chamber. Once you finally appeared in the crowd, your eyes instantly met his.

“Hi Vil.” you greeted--uncharacteristically nervous and shy around him, dressed in the pale purple colors of House Chrysanthemum--the House of Artistry.

At the sight of you, Vil’s lips instantly curled up into a beautiful smile.

“Well if it isn’t my number one fan.” he raised a hand and began to rub a finger against a purple mark on your cheek. “paint got to your face again.” Your tense shoulders loosened as Vil greeted you the same way he always did.

“Whoops.” Vil shook his head, and as he pulled back he noticed that your skirt and your sleeves had faint splatter marks of paint--and on your wrist--

“You need to stop writing on your wrist, dear one.” he chided gently, though used to your antics, he easily unclipped his magic pen from his breast pocket and began to cast a spell to clean you up.

“Is it that obvious? I really did try to clean up...” you complained, but you let Vil fuss over you--as he normally did. There was no stopping him until he was satisfied. When he finally pulled back, he nodded in an approving manner.

“Vil, did you like it? Was it a good surprise?” you looked up at him with curiosity shining in your eyes, and he let out a soft chuckle.

“Yes. It was a pleasant surprise. So we’ll be spending a whole two weeks together...” he mused.

You were a person he had grown up with, and the person he regarded as his dearest friend. Much like him, you had an eye for art--except while his art focused on himself as a model and actor--yours came in the form of paintings.

Your identical passion for beauty made the two of you attached at the hip. You were the one whose opinion mattered the most to him--because there was no one whose opinions he trusted more.

“Ohoho, Roi de Poison, who is this?” Rook peered curiously at you, he had never seen Vil react like this before...

Well actually he had. Whenever Vil was on his phone--but Vil never explained, and no matter how Rook tried, he never figured it out.

“This is my best friend, [Name]. We’ve been friends since our childhood.” Vil’s lips curled up, “She’s also--” Vil looked at you for a moment, and you nodded. Vil then mentioned your MagiCam account, and Rook’s eyes popped open in surprise. He knew that name--you were one of the most popular artist on MagiCam. Rook knew that you and Vil followed and liked each other’s works, but there had been no hint to the of your relationship with Vil.

He studied Vil curiously.

For someone who was never afraid to share what he did to the public’s eye, you were an incredibly well kept secret for Vil. From what he knew about you on MagiCam--you were a very private person who was never one to share your photos. Why, he knew that Idia Shroud from Ignihyde was a fan of some of your otaku related works--he had heard from the man that one of your quirks was that you chose to never appear in fan gatherings. You were incredibly mysterious.

To realize that--that person--

He eyed you curiously. You were far different from the women that Vil would often be seen hanging out with. As a model, he had a pretty extravagant social life. He hung out with people as glamorous as him and you--

Well, to put it plain and simple, you weren’t anything like that.

“So Vil, where do we go first?” you asked, Vil turned his gaze away from the analytical glint in Rook’s eyes, to smile at you.

“I’ll show you the gardens, I’m sure you’ll love them.”

After Vil had bid you ‘good bye’ as you and your classmates returned to your designated dorm, Vil looked at Rook with an annoyed expression.

“Alright Rook.” the Pomefiore Dorm Leader crossed his arms, “what is it?”

“What’s what?” the other third year raised his hands defensively.

“You kept staring at [Name] earlier with that look in your eye... I don’t like it.”

“I was just thinking... she was a very well kept secret.”

“A secret..?” Vil arched a brow. “She isn’t a secret at all. As you remember, she’s also incredibly famous on MagiCam.”

“No, I do mean, she’s a secret of yours, Roi de Poison.” Rook smiled, and Vil’s eyes narrowed in turn.

“I don’t understand.”

“You never mentioned her on MagiCam.”

“That was by her request. She wanted to build up her own audience.” Vil explained.

“Hm... that’s interesting.”

“What is?”

“I do believe...” Rook’s eyes slipped open. “That your friend is hiding something from you.

Vil didn’t like to believe what Rook told him, but he did wonder to himself how he could miss it.

You had considered each other best friends--yet he never noticed how you truly felt. The next time he caught you (because for some reason--it was as if you knew he wanted to talk to you about something important--and he had a difficult time catching you), he asked you if you could spend lunch together in private. You had happily agreed.

Once you two had sat down together in one of the gazebos in NRC’s gardens, he placed down the basket of food.

“Ah! Vil, it looks really good~” you said, happy.

“Yes, and you’ll see it’s all healthy too.” he smiled--how could he not, in your presence? As you two began to eat, you chattered on about what you’ve seen and liked about NRC so far. While he did listen--he can’t help but have his thoughts drift off to Rook’s statement.

Could you really be hiding--?

“--Vil? Is something wrong?” you put the utensil down, and studied your friend with a worried expression on your face. He felt a little guilty--your usual absent minded but happy expression was twisted with the furrow of your brow, and the downward slope of your lips.

“No it’s...” he hesitated a moment. He thought for a second how you were the first person to ruffle him in a long time. “I was thinking... we’re both big influencers now--in fashion and in the arts.”

“Alright, I’m listening.” you nodded.

“Why don’t we do a collaboration? While you’re still here. We have a week left.” He offered, and you furrowed your brows.

“I don’t know Vil--as alike as our fields are, our audiences can be pretty different.”

“Do you... well, do you not like sharing about me on your page?” Vil hated this. As an influencer, he was used to being loved and hated. There was a time when the comments got to him--but now, he’s able to brush it off with little problem. With you though--well, he was always going to be emotionally invested in you. So, of course you could make him feel this insecure. He hadn’t felt like this for such a long time--and it’s certainly much worse than he remembered. You looked alarmed.

“What? No, no! Of course that’s not it.” you frantically shook your head as you reached your hands out to hold his.

“Then why? I was happy that you didn’t want to mix business with our friendship... but well... something made me realize that we don’t have a relationship on MagiCam at all and...” Vil paused, and you rubbed the back of his hands gently. “And you’re so important to me [Name]. So I want to share that with my followers too.” Your cheeks turned red at that and you looked down on your laced hands.

“It’s just...” you inhaled sharply, “I... well, I know you have a certain image to uphold and--and I don’t want to be someone who would cause people to criticize you.” you pulled your hands away to gesture at yourself. Paint splattered blouse, ink on your wrist and hair--an absolute mess. “I mean look at me... and look at you. People have a hard time imagining we’re friends and--and well... I know the type of fans Beauty influencers can have. I don’t want to get criticized because I know you’ll defend me and I don’t want that to negatively affect your reputation.” Your eyes flickered away, and he could swear they were slightly wet.

Of course.

Rook was wrong.

Rook had assumed that perhaps you simply hadn’t wanted to be associated with Vil Schoenheit. While that was technically the truth--you weren’t doing it for negative reasons. You were just looking out for him--thinking about the best for his reputation.

“Like right now--I really wanted to see you, surprise you--so I impulsively joined the exchange program and couldn’t back out. I was worried about how people might see us hang out together... I’m worried about how what your fans will think...”

However, there was no way in hell that Vil Schoenheit would let you put yourself down like this.

“Okay, no.” he interrupted, and you looked up at him--confused.

“Vil?”

“I won’t allow you to look down at yourself like that. I appreciate that you care about my reputation but--” he takes your hands in his and looks you in the eye. “[Name], you’re more important to me than that.” your eyes water up, and he kept speaking.

“Sweet one, you were always my number one fan--even before my career really took off, you were the one who cheered me on. You were so sure I could do this, even when I had my own moments of weakness. You believed in me when no one else did.” Vl scowled, “So I’ll always be on your side too, alright? It doesn’t matter to me what they all think.”

“But... you really worked hard to get to where you are.” you said weakly, “It can happen super quickly...”

“I am not Vil Schoenheit for nothing.” he said in response, “besides--you are beautiful [Name].” your blushed intensified, and you ducked your head. “Do you not believe me? I know beauty when I see it--and I know you are.”

“Vil... please stop, you’re embarrassing me.”

“No I will not. I will keep telling you this until you know this. I refuse to let someone I consider beautiful, look down on herself like this. Alright?” He reached out a hand to lift your chin. Your eyes were wet, and you bit your lip as you nodded hesitantly.

He smiled, pleased.

“Vil... I’m sorry for not... well...”

“No, I’m sorry I didn’t realize sooner. What type of best friend am I, that it took someone else pointing it out for me to realize it?” You giggled at that.

“Well, to be fair--we are best friends. I know how to hide it from you.”

“And you better stop hiding these things from me, alright?”

“Yes, of course.” you nodded, a grin finally lit up your face. Vil’s smile turned gentle.

“Now, how about we think of a collaboration project?”

As you stepped out of the Mirror Chamber, you immediately move in the direction of a familiar blue flame.

“Hello Ortho.” When Ortho looked up, he beamed brightly.

“[Name]!” He wrapped his arms around you, which you reciprocate with an elegant smile.

“It has been awhile, has it not?” you mused, as you let go of him. You quickly smoothened the pink skirts of House Eglantine--the House of Sophistication. You turned your head from side to side and your brow raised as you realized that a certain man wasn’t here.

“Ortho, where is your brother?” Ortho gulped nervously, and behind him--one of the Ignihyde student’s gadget began to shake. Your eyes narrowed.

“Is your brother holing himself up in his room again? On such an occasion? Which requires his presence as a dorm leader?”

“Uh...” Ortho glanced away nervously before he met your gaze again. “Yes?”

“Ortho!” squeaked the gadget, “you could defend me!”

“Sorry big brother... but you also brought it onto yourself.” Ortho said quickly, and your lips twitched at that. “There’s no point in lying to [Name].”

“That’s true.” you could hear Idia squeak from the tablet at your response. “Take me to his room.”

“Alright [Name].” Ortho agreed easily.

“Ortho!” Idia wailed, “on whose side are you on?”

“For once, not yours. Sorry big brother.” Ortho eagerly looked up at you. “Will you tell me some stories?”

“I also have pictures.” you offered and Ortho cheered. You turned back to the the tablet.

“Prepare yourself Idia.”

“I’m going to die.”

Your childhood best friend mourned, and your lips quirked in amusement.

Despite it all, you had missed Idia especially because...

Your lips twitched downward for a bit, before you immediately composed yourself.

You really didn’t want to upset Idia after all.

As he heard you begin to tell Ortho some stories from your school, Idia began to frantically run around his room, and cleaned up as best as possibly could.

After all, you weren’t a part of House Eglantine just for show.

Like him, you were the daughter of an incredibly old and wealthy family from the Isle of Lamentation. In your childhood, Idia, who had always been shy--attached himself to you, when you had protected him from some bullies. Ever since, he just followed you around.

For some reason, you chose to stick around with him--despite how different the two of you were.

He was an absolute shut-in who preferred to play games and watch anime from the comfort of his bedroom.

You were a popular socialite amongst the elite of the Isle of Lamentation--known for your beauty and intelligence. You were also recognized on MagiCam for your love of travel. In fact, you were often transported all over Twisted Wonderland because tourists locations wanted to be on your account.

Again, he really didn’t see why you stuck around.

A lot of his friends when he was younger--those seeking to befriend the Shroud Family’s heir--had given up on him when they all realized that he was difficult to communicate with.

But not you.

Ever since he attached himself to you--you had seemed to attach yourself back for no reason. You willingly called himself his best friend (and despite how different you were--he’d admit that you were the only friend he had that he could consider as a best friend--), which could hurt your social standing because of how insanely beloved you were--but you didn’t care (and of course, you’re also the type of popular kid that could never make yourself unpopular).

Don’t get Idia wrong.

He didn’t hate you.

You were patient.

You were kind.

You were understanding.

Idia definitely had a crush on you, and he didn’t know what to do with it--because he had such a hard time finding something about himself that you might be attracted to.

You were like the true hidden route to be conquered on a dating simulation game. First he would need to find a way to ensure that he were on the right path. Then next, he needed to complete a bunch of prerequisites to be able to even access this hidden route.

Your difficulty level was EX.

He had spent most of his childhood by your side--

‘but why does it feel like I know nothing about you?’ he frowned.

Truth be told, Idia had an idea on why. He had been very selfish with you. Nobody had been willing to talk to him about his interests in real life--except you. That’s why he talked to you about his games or robotics--because it’s different when someone in real life is the one doing the listening to you. In the process of that, he felt like you knew more about him than the other way around and it made him guilty.

He was guilty he didn’t hear you out often but the thing is--you never really shared.

“--Idia.” he felt a hand press against his forehead, and he fell backwards with a screech. You put your hands on your hips as you looked down at him with an arched brow. “Well, at least I know you aren’t running a fever.”

“You--you’re here!” He squeaked, “Already?”

“I am.” you looked around, and noted how messy his room was. Instead of commenting however, you began to move around and pick up his things. When you noticed he still hadn’t moved, you turned to him with an arched brow. “Come on Idia, I’ll help you.”

“Ah... Okay.” He looked up at Ortho in confusion, and it seemed that he was also stunned that you hadn’t gone straight into a lecture about his responsibilities as you normally would.

Idia considered himself a terrible friend, but he wasn’t so terrible as to not notice that you weren’t... well, at max HP. Sometimes he thought you would get angry, but you would instead sigh, and just avert your gaze.

When you were in public (because Idia was worried okay? So he kept an eye out for you too--) you seemed to interact normally with your peers. The fans you had in NRC--were dealt with your normal grace.

However, when you would visit Idia, you would grow quiet--and thoughtful.

It was, literally, killing him.

Was it him? Were you mulling the idea of cancelling your support together?

Idia sincerely didn’t know what to do if this was real.

So one time when you were in his bedroom, you suddenly got a call. You looked down at your phone, furrowed your brows in that way that Idia hated--and left the room.

“You should speak with her, brother.” Ortho suggested, a frown on his face. “she seemed really down recently.”

“I mean... what do I even say?” Idia squeaked.

“I’m not sure.” Ortho shrugged, “but I can tell your concerned brother, so just do it.”

Idia gathered all his courage, and moved to follow you. As he turned down the hallway he heard you speak.

“--I don’t want to marry Adonis.”

Idia immediately froze, and stood in place as he heard your one sided argument--with who he assumed--was probably one of your parents.

Alongside with being the most popular socialite of the elites in the Isle of Lamentation, you were also the most desirable waifu--ahem--he meant bachelorette.

Idia knew this because it was one of the only times you ever complained about it. Your parents were pleased with how popular you were, and the amount of marriage offers you received. You had told him that since you were pretty young, you weren’t really being forced to chose now.

“But I’m sure the pressure will be different when I grow older.” you had sighed. Idia hadn’t known what to say--and the most he could do was put a hand on your back.

“There... there?” he asked, with a frown. He really hadn’t known what to do. You looked up and met his eyes before laughing.

“Sorry to bother you about this Idia.”

‘No, it’s okay! I don’t mind!’ was what he thought, but you stood up.

“Venting helped a little. Thank you for listening.” you picked up your things and stared at a frozen Idia. “I think I’ll go home now. I’ll see you... later.”

He should’ve tried to stop you--but he just... blanked. He should’ve tried to say something--anything to cheer you up. Heck, maybe you would’ve liked for him to ask if you wanted to game a little to get your mind off of it.

“I’m serious mother... Adonis doesn’t respect women--I won’t...” you paused, “I won’t feel safe... I know father thinks he’s the best option but... I don’t really want to talk about this right now. I’m in Idia’s dorm...” you stopped again.

“Mother...” your voice was shaky, and Idia’s hands fisted in his coat. “No. Stop talking about Idia like that.” Idia tensed, and turned his head. “... It’s not about that, he’s my friend. My best friend. I won’t allow you to talk about him like that.”

Idia had an idea on what the elite of the Isle of Lamentation thought of him. They looked at him with respect because he was the heir to the Shroud Family, they also acknowledged his skills with technology... but otherwise? He was considered eccentric.

The reason your family did not mind your relationship with him--is because it brought them a certain esteem. That their daughter was the only one who the next Shroud heir would actively communicate with. The Shrouds were still one, if not the most powerful family in the Isle after all.

“Bye.”

Idia flinched, and he frantically looked around for a place to hide.

“Idia?” He looked up and noticed that you were looking at him with a startled expression, before it slipped to an exhausted one.

“You heard...?”

“A bit.” he croaked out. “Is that... why you were so sad?”

“You noticed?” He frowned at that.

“Of course I did... we’re... friends, right?” you studied him carefully, and he felt like he was in a boiler room or something--he was sweating a lot.

“Yeah we are.” you then slid down to the ground, and tucked your skirt underneath you. You looked up at him expectantly, and he hastily sat down next to you.

“So they’re pressuring you right now.” Idia stated.

“Yeah.”

“With Adonis.”

“Yeah...” you groaned, as you raised your hands to your temples. “they could’ve chosen anyone.. but they chose that narcissistic... arse.”

“Who are the other offers?” Idia asked, and you mumbled out a bunch of names he recognized. Hey, he might not be active in the social sphere, but he was aware on who was who.

“Adonis is...” Idia paused, “well in terms of social standing, I guess.”

“Yeah. Unless someone of higher status proposes, there’s nothing I can do.” you mumbled.

“What about me?” You whirled your head to look at Idia. “W-what--? You?” You cleared your throat, “I mean...that... I...”

“Oh.” Idia blinked in surprise. “No! NO! Wait! I meant, why--what was your mother saying about me?” Your face flushed red, and Idia found your flustered expression cute. You rarely showed that face.

“Oh you know, same old, same old.” you grumbled as you fanned your face with a hand. “Just... criticizing you... and all that.”

“Well... I can guess what she said, and... she’s probably... not wrong.” You turned to him with the same ferocity that you had done earlier.

“No Idia, don’t you dare speak of yourself as that. Don’t you dare listen to the elites on Lamentation. They couldn’t be even more wrong about you.”

“But--”

“No buts.” you narrowed your eyes, and he flinched at the sight of your fury. “You are an amazing person--you’re smarter than they think and you create some pretty amazing things. Sure you could stand to go out more and make friends--but when you’re focused on your craft...” you paused, and you expression softened. Idia wondered what you were remembering. “You are so amazing. I hate how they don’t see that.” His breath hitched.

“You really mean that?”

“Of course I do! I love you--your work.” you coughed in response. The two of you went silent, before you sighed and picked yourself up. He looked up at you, and you shot him the same sad smile you had--all those years back, when the problems of today seemed like distant nightmares.

“Thank you for listening to me, Idia.” you said, “and I’m sorry to bother you with my problems.”

“I... I’m your friend right?”

“... Yes.”

“So please... don’t worry about it [Name].” he looked away uncomfortably. “I may complain sometimes...”

“Sometimes?”

“Okay, all the time.” he said grouchily, and you giggled--which made it all the more worth it. “...even if I complain all the time--you’re still my precious friend.”

You smiled, leant down and pressed a kiss to his forehead.

When you pulled back, Idia was stuttering, and turning red.

“Thank you, Idia.”

After you left Ignihyde, he sat back at his computer and began typing out an email.

For you--whose smile was so precious to him...

Idia knew that he liked you. A lot.

He probably already loved you really.

And judging from the way you reacted--

maybe it was mutual...?

Dear Lord and Lady [Surname],

The Most Ancient and Noble House of Shroud would like to extend an offer of engagement between your daughter, [Name] [Surname] and our heir, Lord Idia Shroud...

"Oh no.” one of the Garden Academy students, dressed in the aquamarine colors of House Sage--House of Spirituality, turned to Lilia with a frown. “We’re missing one of our fellow House Sage classmates... give us a moment, we’ll go find her.”

Lilia’s lips only curled upward.

“Would her name happen to be [Name] [Surname]?”

“Yes.” the student blinked in surprise. “That would be her.”

“Ah.” Lilia smiled. “Don’t worry, I’m sure she’s fine. I’m sure he’s gone to find her already.”

The Garden Academy students shared a glance.

The most Malleus knew was that majority of the Student Body had gone off to the Mirror Chamber for some event. He didn’t know, after all, he hadn’t been invited.

So he had decided to go on a long walk, internally unamused that he was once more forgotten when he sensed it--

Your presence.

It was in the gentle caress of the wind against his face, in the rustle of the leaves, and in the soft warmth of the sun.

One moment he was incredibly unhappy, and in the next second--he felt your magic touch his.

It was like a ripple--and it soothed his entire being.

You and your magic--he wondered if you knew the extent of your effect on him.

He began to walk deep into the forest.

He paused in his step as he caught sight of you. You had sat down in a patch of sunlight in the small meadow. You were surrounded by some creatures of the forest--from bears to deers and rabbits. You looked completely serene--as you should--after all, you were one of the most powerful nature fae living. Coming from your head were horns--but nothing like his. Yours were shorter, and much more like tree branches. As you hummed idly to yourself, a few birds fluttered forward and decorated your horns with small flowers. Your smile brightened the clearing, and the birds--pleased--chirped a song that you instantly began to hum along with.

How he wished he could draw closer to you without disrupting the peace--animals didn’t do well with Malleus. They inherently knew how powerful he was--and though the same could be said about what they sensed from you--your powers were much more attuned to nature in itself. To be by your side--it would be peace for the animals.

‘ He could understand. By your side, there were no pressures to be anyone else other than himself.’

As he stepped into the clearing, all the animals turned to look at him, and tensed. You blinked in surprise at their actions, before you turned your head to see Malleus at the far edge of the small clearing you were in.

“Mal.” you greeted, your startled expression slipped into a sweet, happy one. “It has been a long time.” Malleus inclined his head. “Won’t you come close, dear friend?” you raised a hand, beckoning him to come closer.

He eyed the animals around you warily.

“I don’t think they will enjoy that.” You let out a soft laugh at his deadpanned statement. Your laugh seemed to instantly calm most of the animals down (he could feel his tensed shoulders unknot too). You looked around you and began to speak to them.

“Now now everyone--Mal is a dear friend. I grew up with him. He’s a good person. Won’t you all please be patient with him?” The animals around you shuffled uneasily.

You looked up again and gestured for Malleus to draw closer once more. Malleus approached slowly at first, and once he realized that none of the animals would be disrupted, easily slid down beside you. One of the male deers leaned forward to sniff him--and Malleus held as still as possible. Apparently satisfied, the deer relaxed beside Malleus. Around him, the animals slipped back to their relaxed states.

“See? That wasn’t so bad.” One particularly ambitious rabbit hopped up onto your lap and peered inquisitively at Malleus. You smiled, and began to brush your fingers through the animal’s hair.

“[Name], not that I’m unhappy to see you but...” He began, “what are you doing here?”

“My school, the Garden Academy is having an exchange program with your school.” you peered up curiously at your childhood friend. “Did you not hear?”

“As per usual, I do believe people have forgotten to inform me.” he frowned slightly. “Then... this would be the event being held at the Mirror Chamber, then?” You nodded.

“The event should still be ongoing.” Malleus eyed you curiously, but you spread your arms wide in response.

“The trees told me that some creatures were excited to see me.” You said--and the animals all made noises of agreement, “so I thought to visit them already.”

“Will your classmates and teacher not worry then?” You giggled at his questions.

“I appreciate the concern Mal but.. there’s nothing here that can harm me.” you said simply, and he hummed in acknowledgement--you were right.

You were perhaps the one person Malleus could consider an equal.

You had grown up side by side--and he was more than aware of your power and capabilities.

If there was one person who knew him as well as Lilia--it was you. You had seen him at his best and his worst--you were there when he could barely control his own magical power. He hadn’t been good at dampening his own energy back then--nobody ever approached him out of fear for the amount of power he had. The only one who bothered to interact with him had been Lilia, who had been his designated caretaker and...

And you.

You had no reason to be by his side when he had been his most volatile.

But you had been there.

And you stuck by him with no hesitation.

“How about you?” You glanced at the dragon fae from the edge of your eye.

“Ah. I wasn’t invited.” he answered with a sigh, and you could see the discontent in the almost, unnoticeable, wrinkle between his brows. You--who knew him so well--could spot the tiniest giveaways to Malleus’s moods--it was a skill you were proud of.

You were someone who occupied an almost identical role to Malleus. All that differs from the two of you is the type of magic you possessed.

As a dragon fae, and a descendant of the Witch of Thorns--it was easy to predict the type of power Malleus would eventually manifest. Draconic transformation and dark magic. This made people fear him, and dislike interacting with him.

As a nature fae, and a descendant of the Spirit of the Willow--most knew that you would grow to have power attuned with nature. It explained why you could speak the language of the trees and flowers--why animals adored you. To others--people saw you as harmless.

Perhaps in the beginning, you hadn’t really thought too much of your similarities. As years passed however--you realized how unfair the world was to Malleus.

They never saw the boy who sneezed and set Lilia’s hair on fire, they never acknowledged the man who treasured his Gao Gao Dragon toy--because it adored him as is. They didn’t allow Malleus to make mistakes, they didn’t allow Malleus to be vulnerable. They refused to see past this idea of a strong magician and the title of prince.

You reached forward and cupped his cheek. He turned to look at you quizzically.

“Then... should we have our own event?” You smiled, a tad bit more mischievous. You looked down at the animals. “Would you be willing to help out, my friends?”

The bunny in your lap twitched its nose in response, and a lot of the animals eagerly leaned closer.

“An event, like a party--to celebrate our reunion?” You glanced at Malleus to see him look on in curiosity. It seemed like the animals understood the idea of a party and began to move. You noticed the the female animals were the ones who specifically pulled you away, and when you glanced at Malleus--you noticed the the male animals began to surround him. He shot you a desperate look, but you only laughed.

“Let’s have fun!”

The male animals had weaved flowers together on top of Malleus’s head. Another animal had gotten several leaves, and put them together to form a long cape. He had no idea how the animals were doing it--but he just assumed it was because you were magic.

One of the birds flew over, and chirped loudly--which the animals took as a sort of signal. They all stopped and studied what they had done to Malleus. They began to make displeased noises, until one of the deers pushed a long stick towards Malleus. When he picked it up, he looked to the animals to see that they were all still unsatisfied. To humor them, He unclipped his pen from his breast pocket and waved it. He used the foliage that had fallen to the ground to decorate the stick--and craft it into a staff similar to his own.

“Is it good?” he asked, and the animals all vigorously gave their assent. At that, he could feel his lips curl up. The bird chirped again, and the animals snapped into action. One of the bucks nudge Malleus forward with his snout. “Ah, is it time to go back?” the birds make a pleasant chirping sound, and he allowed himself to be pushed back into the clearing.

He found himself in the clearing again--with all the male animals standing by his side. He thought briefly of what an amusing sight this probably was, until another bird chirped from the opposite side of the clearing. He raised his gaze that way, as a bunch of female birds flew in, and dropped flower petals onto the ground. The smaller animals came in first, followed by the younger fauns--and finally--

You stepped forth into the light of the clearing, and he found his breath caught in his throat. While the flowers on his form were restricted to his crown--the animals had chosen to decorate your whole form with it. Unlike the flower crown you were wearing earlier--this one had a train that fell to the ground, and billowed around you--making you all the more ethereal. Escorted on either side by the tall, elegant form of does--you resembled the idea of a Fae Queen with her animal court. As you came to a stop beside Malleus, you giggled at his surprised expression. He felt something tug on his pants, and when he looked down--he found a squirrel made exaggerated gestures towards you.

“Ah.” he looked up and met your curious gaze. “You look beautiful, [Name].” And he did mean it--for the centuries that he had known you, and the centuries he had yet to share with you--he knew that one thing would remain constant--the way you made his heart skip a beat, and the way you were beauty in everything you did.

“Thank you, Malleus. You look handsome” you blushed. That’s when you were both nudged forward by the deers, and were now much closer. One of the deers, snatched the staff in his hand. The birds fluttered around you, pulling your sleeves into place until finally--both you and Malleus were moved to a waltz pose. You stared into each other’s eyes, stunned. Malleus wondered briefly is animals were truly capable of sensing feelings he had--that even he had yet to fully comprehend.

“Shall we?” he offered, and you beamed in response. The birds began to sing, and the two of you proceeded to dance in the clearing.

“I think they enjoyed themselves, too much.”

“Did you have fun?” Malleus asked gently, and you smiled.

“I did but...” you curiously peered up at him. “Did you have fun?”

“I suppose I did.” He mused.

The other animals watched on--pleased.

Though neither of you saw it--blissfully caught up in enjoying your dance--they did. They could see the future King and Queen of Faeries.

#aiwrites #aiscenarios #ai dati series #ai tga verse #female reader #twisted wonderland #twst #twst scenarios #twst kalim #twst vil #twst idia #twst malleus

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