#shoutout to my friend for the idea to put them in a fitting room

[psymachine]

dress den for my brain-twin anon

[therealcocoshady]

Love Game

Author’s Note : shoutout to @shady-577 for texting me the idea for this 👀. Y’all think I’m the Angst queen ? You haven’t met this amazing human being 😂.

TW : ANGST

Marshall raised an eyebrow when he walked in Denaun’s place and noticed shopping bags everywhere. He knew his friends liked clothing but the quantity was over the top. The whole living room was filled with tons of new clothes, with items from various designers’ most recent collections.

- New wardrobe ? He asked.

- Yeah, I figured I could use an update, his friend shrugged. Apparently, I should try wearing things that are more fitted.

- Who said that ? He chuckled. Did you hire a stylist too ?

- I’m just trying to keep up, man, Denaun said evasively. Not everyone wears the same sweatpants and Lions apparel, you know. Maybe it wouldn’t kill you to make an effort either…

- I’m fine, thanks, he chortled. Seriously, though, what’s that for ?

He started looking at the items his friend had bought and noticed it wasn’t only clothes. He spotted bags from various stores, containing expensive candles and even skincare. That’s the it hit him : there was a lady. And like the asshole he very much was, he was not about to lose an opportunity to make fun of his best friend.

- I know your fifties are just around the corner but… skincare ? He asked with a smirk.

- I need to moisturize, Denaun replied. My skin’s a little dry.

- And the candles ? He asked with a raised eyebrow. Just admit it ! You’re seeing someone !

His friend gave him an annoyed look and sighed, not denying anything. It made sense. As refined as Denaun could be, he was not the type to invest in $90 candles that smelled like peonies. His friend had not really been in luck with the ladies, in the past years, and he was happy he finally found someone. He was a great guy and he deserved some happiness.

- What’s her name ? He asked.

- Shut up, Denaun replied in embarrassment.

- She hot ? He asked with a smirk. Slutty ?

- Man, don’t talk about her like that ! His friend snapped.

- I was just asking, he said in his own defense.

Damn. If he was getting defensive, it must mean he really liked that girl. Whoever she was, he just hoped she was worth it. Denaun was a sweet guy but he had a knack for only attracting the wrong girls, the ones who ended up playing him. He also knew he was to blame, in a way : he couldn’t count the times when women dates his friends in hope to get closer to him. He had always tried to make his friends benefit from his status but, when it came to the ladies, it wasn’t too easy and a lot of them were only interested because of the money or the fact that they could meet Eminem, without really caring about the guys they were dating. Before he could say anything more, they heard the doorbell and, minutes later, you were walking in, carrying bags of freshly baked cupcakes, both sweet and salty.

- Hi boys, you said before giving both of them a peck on the cheek. Where are the others ?

- Running late, Denaun said. Let me help you with that.

He grabbed the bags of cupcakes and went to put them in the kitchen, while you babbled to him about the flavors. You were so cute, thinking about everyone and what they liked. You had memorized everyone’s favorites so that you could make them. You had walked into their life a couple of months ago and the whole group agreed that you were the sweetest thing on earth. With your fluttery eyelashes and warm smile, you managed to turn these Detroit rappers into gentlemen and, whether it was Bizarre, Swift, Kuniva, Denaun or Marshall, they were at your beck and call. You had them wrapped around your finger, especially when you wore your flowy sundresses. Marshall was partial to your white one. The last time he had seen it, it was in a ball, on the floor of your bedroom, while he was fucking you senseless. Ironically, it was the night you wore this innocent little number that he had discovered what a freak you could be, happy that he had finally given in on the attraction. Your chemistry was off the charts and, looking back, he was surprised either of you had waited that long before sealing the deal. He kept on looking at you while you were talking to Denaun, remembering the view he had when he fucked you from behind and you were begging him to go harder. The memory almost gave him a boner and he wondered if you wearing the white dress was intentional, debating whether or not it should happen again. On the one hand, the sex had been so great only a fool would turn down the opportunity for more but, on the other, he didn’t want to make things complicated. The two of you were friends and you fit right within the group. If he slept with you again, you might get the wrong idea, catch feelings, and it would ruin the whole thing. The others wouldn’t forgive him either : they were all protective of you and they loved having you around, enjoying your sarcastic comments, terrific cooking skills and encouragements. He didn’t want to hurt you. Even though you weren’t nearly as innocent as the others imagined you were, you were a sweet little thing.

- I need to go and put these away, Denaun said as he gestured to the bags.

- You went shopping ? You asked.

- I think he’s got someone to impress, Marshall couldn’t help but grin.

- You mentioned something about fits and neutral colors, Denaun said as he royally ignored Marshall.

- Glad to know you take my advice, you giggled. Wait… is that the Dyptique candle I mentioned ?

- Figured it wouldn’t hurt to try a new smell for the house, he shrugged nervously. You were right. Peonies is a nice scent.

You giggled and pecked him on the cheek, happy to notice he was taking your advice. Marshall quietly stared as you brushed Denaun’s shoulder, mentioning something about his biceps being bigger. You being all touchy-feely wasn’t surprising, you were like that with everyone, but his friend was looking all flustered. That’s when he realized what should have been obvious : you were the girl Denaun was doing all of this for. Of all people in the group, the two of them were the guys you were closest with but he had never interpreted your friendship with Denaun to be more than that. He wasn’t too sure of how he felt about it, though. Did you hook up with him too ? Did he mistake some slutty behavior for some off the charts chemistry ? He frowned and kept to himself the whole afternoon, even when the others joined. He didn’t talk and, instead, paid attention to your every move. You were the flirty type, for sure. Always had been. But it was painfully obvious that Denaun was under your spell, making sure to make room for you on the couch, fluffing the pillow on your side, making sure you always had a glass in your hand. The worst part was that you didn’t even seem to realize it. How could you though ? You were used to all of them giving you the princess treatment all the time. It was like some magic power you had : whenever you walked into a room, you managed to turn gangsters into southern gentlemen. You did it gracefully, effortlessly, pecking their cheek, giving them nicknames and batting your eyelashes. Even himself was guilty of giving you a special treatment, falling victim to your « Hi handsome », spoken in your sultry voice that could draw anyone in. He was always soft with you. Everyone was. They were all whipped. You had often joked about not needing a boyfriend or husband because your rapper friends kept you happy, but now that it was obvious that Denaun had feelings, it was sad. The worst part about it is that he was protective, urging the others to put some respect on your name whenever they made some joke. His friend was a great guy, who obviously only had the best intentions, unlike himself whose actions towards you were more so driven by lust and desire. When everyone went home, he decided to confront Denaun.

- So… Y/N, huh ? He asked as he scratched his throat.

- Is it that obvious ? Denaun asked with a worried look on his face.

- I don’t know, he shrugged. Have you guys fucked around ?

- No, no, his friend assured him. She’s not like that. She’s a lady.

If only he knew the lady he was mentioning had been on her knees, weeks ago, begging for him to choke her. It was almost painful, at this point. If he had known of his friend’s feelings, he never would have given in on the attraction.

- Does she know ? He questioned. That you like her ?

- No, his friend sighed. I wanted to ask her out but… when she mentioned she wasn’t looking for anyone, I didn’t dare. Plus, I wouldn’t want to ruin the friendship.

- You really care, huh ?

- Man, I don’t want to sound corny or whatever but… I think I’m in love with her, his hype man confessed.

- In love ?! With Y/N ?! He almost gasped.

- Man, have you seen her ? Denaun asked. She’s so beautiful. And so nice to us. And for once, there’s a woman who sees us, praises us as emcees. She’s always hyping me up, I can talk to her about my own projects. Finally, there’s a woman who doesn’t only sees me as your hype man. No offense, bro. Love the job but… you know. Most of the time, you’re Eminem and we’re chopped liver. Y/N, she’s not like that. She treats us all the same.

He hummed and looked away, hoping he would be able to have a neutral expression. The last thing he needed was to crush his friend’s heart and tell him that, though you did treat them all the same most of the time, he had painted your walls white, weeks ago, and made you cry tears of pleasure, abusing each and every one of your walls, doing some nasty shit to you.

- I’ll tell her, eventually, he shrugged.

- About your feelings, you mean ? He asked.

- Yeah. I want to treat her right, give her what she deserves, his friend said with a smile. I’ve never met a girl like her. She’s special.

- That, she is, he agreed.

Marshall liked you. He liked you a lot. You always brightened his day, laughing at his stupid jokes, keeping him fed and down to earth, with your cooking and humor. You also kept him humble. There was nothing not to like about you, lovely person that you were and, in hindsight, it wasn’t surprising that Denaun had fallen for you. And his friend was right : you did deserve the world, as well as a man who was willing to give it to you. Only he knew he couldn’t be that man. He didn’t want to, either. As great as you were, dating wasn’t in the cards and he knew it. He would have gladly enjoyed you as a friend with benefits but he couldn’t do that to Denaun. Not when his feelings were so sweet, so noble.

That night, for the first time, he didn’t reply right away when you texted him and he even found some lame excuse not to see you, when you asked if he wanted to come by your place. There was no way he could keep on fucking you and, with the chemistry the two of you shared, he knew he wouldn’t be able to handle himself if he was alone with you. There was something terribly intoxicating about your pheromones and, whenever he was in your presence, he couldn’t see straight, only being able to focus on you, anything you did and said. You tried reaching out to him regularly but ended up giving up. The two of you crossed paths a couple of weeks later, when Denaun invited you to listen to some beats he’d made in his hope studio. When you walked in, everyone greeted you with a hug, as usual, except for Marshall, who was rather cold. You were extremely hurt that he would give you the cold shoulder, this behavior being so unlike him. So far, he had always been extremely warm towards you but now, you could feel him take a step back and it broke your heart. He ignored you for most of the day, even though you regularly glanced at him. He was acting normal with the others and you were the only one he was different with. When he went to the kitchen to grab a drink in the fridge, you followed him.

- Marshall ? You asked nervously.

- Mmmh ? He asked without so much as looking at you.

- Ahem… can we talk ?

- I should go back to the others, he replied coldly.

- Marsh, it’s sort of important, you pressed him. Can we go outside ?

- What is it ? He sighed.

- We need to talk about… you know… us, you babbled. I mean, what happened…

- There’s no us, he said immediately. Nothing happened.

- Are you serious ? You asked in disbelief.

- Just because I fucked you doesn’t mean there’s anything between us, Y/N, he said coldly. You don’t mean anything, alright ?!

You bit your lip, visibly flushed with embarrassment and overcome with sadness. Marshall stared at you, an unreadable expression on his face. Your face was crumbling but his was steady, unmoved. His gaze was cold, devoid of emotion. You scoffed and mumbled an « ok then » before turning and meeting Denaun’s gaze. He looked visibly hurt.

- I was coming to get you guys but, obviously, you have your own stuff, he said in a sad voice.

- Shit, bro, it-its not-, Marshall began.

- I don’t want to talk to you, man, Denaun replied.

You were about to say something, at least try and mumble an apology but, before you could get any word out of your mouth, you started feeling dizzy and nauseous. You ran to the nearest bathroom, tears in your eyes, holding your nonexistent stomach. So much for telling Marshall you wet pregnant, you guessed.

[pinkprimrose05]

Yugo for the ask meme?

Banana boy! The idiot! The silly himself! Took me too damn long to get to this, but better late than never, I think. Here you go!

Favorite thing about them: If I had to put it in one word, that'd be tenacity. As Yuugo himself put it, he doesn't even know what giving up means, no matter what sort of adversity he faces. This persistence is honestly admirable for someone who grew up in an environment that relentlessly pushed him down at each and every turn, and it's a quality I strongly respect.

Shoutout to his baby vibes, though. Yuugo is precious and must be protected at all costs (even if I know he can damn well protect himself).

Least favorite thing about them: Yuugo's single-minded approach to things is usually endearing, but sometimes it can be rather frustrating. One such example is choosing to duel Yuuri as payback for kidnapping Rin... instead of -you know- going back to find Rin himself? I struggle to even justify that by way of magical fuckery, because as far as was shown, Yuugo was very much himself when he made that decision.

*sigh*

Favorite line: Would it be cheating the question if I say too many to count? Because it's true. This boy says the dumbest things sometimes, but he also has his sweet moments and I love every single one of those. That said, Clear Wing's summon chant deserves an honorary mention. I think it's very neat.

brOTP: Imma throw a curveball and say Yuuya. I was always intrigued by the idea of possible interactions between the two, and the interactions we got in Yuugo's Duel Links event did not disappoint at all!

I just think they're very neat together. They're both adorkable idiots who can't seem to hold the braincell right, and the small differences between them only make the dynamic more interesting. They're also a lot more perceptive than they might let on, and I think that'd lend itself well to interactions where one of the two is feeling down. I'd love to see more of these sillies together, honestly. Please let them tag together sometime.

OTP: I kid you not when I say my primary reason for shipping him with Rin is because of the ship name pun (Ringo is literally just apple in Japanese), BUT! I've come to appreciate it a lot more overtime, because it's actually pretty interesting for a cliché ship dynamic if you squint hard enough. There's a lot of ways to interpret their relationship, and a fair amount of room for emotional growth on both sides too. I think it's nice, but alas, we never really got much of it onscreen.

(That's what fanwork is for, though!)

nOTP: I don't know chief, I just don't see what's there to ship in his and Yuzu's friendship. I guess it does offer the interesting concept where they're both trying to cope with the loss of their loved one through the other, but that just.... sort of rubs me the wrong way. I see them as great friends, but nothing past that at all.

Random headcanon: I think we can all agree that Yuugo's entire demeanor just screams ADHD. Strong hyperfixation on one interest? Check. A tendency to ramble at the smallest prompt? Check. A general inability to just hold still? Check. A crippling case of constant airheadedness? Check!

He and Yuuri invented ADHD/Autism solidarity in the ARC-Verse.

Unpopular opinion: Not sure if this really classifies, but I actually really like how they handled the "Fusion" joke in the EN dub. Seeing them try and pull a new wordplay every time is mildly amusing at worst and downright hilarious at best, and my personal favorite is the one where he says his name and the Obelisk Force reply with "Yugo? You go where?"

Song i associate with them: Seeing as I've been pretty much living under a rock when it comes to actual popular songs and not obscure lyricless tracks, I'm afraid to say my limited song collection has nothing that quite fits. However, his Duel Links theme is a certified banger and I'm so glad they went with such an amazing, completely original track for the boi, because it actually goes so hard wtf-

Favorite picture of them:

Look at this silly boy. This goofy lil kiddo. Precious sunshine child. I wanna squish him in the sweetest hug ever and never let go. Yuugo deserves all the good things and I love him so so much.

[stunted-boars]

Tumblr deletes content under a cut when someone deletes, shoutout to the wayback machine! Doing this on my phone this time, as per usual if i-am-the-altman is out there somewhere and wants this taken down my inbox is open!

Edit: ok so on my end this post is completely out of order, I tried editing the post to no avail. Will take another look at this in the morning/on my PC-_-

ThAshe Fluff that took way longer to write then I thought it would

Transcription under the cut! Lmk if anyone catches any mistakes, it is not easy doing this on a phone

Some SFW ThAshe fluff that @wolfcat-hybrid kind of requested. I hope it was worth the wait! It probably isn’t

Spoilers for like every arc of TI. 

Ashe was exhausted. There was no other way to put it. The ache of bone deep weariness had become all too familiar during her time in the Ban village… From learning the language with Iggy, to the occasional sparing session with Horaven (and sometimes the Bat-masked Ban), her personal time had been severely neglected.

It didn’t help that the only bar in town was somehow staffed by Old Inny. She had little inclination to put up with Old Inny’s senility for alcohol.

With the sun beginning to kiss the horizon, Ashe let out a sigh. Where am I going to get a drink in this place?

As if to answer her question, a commotion outside of a house caught her attention. I wonder what’s going on…

As Ashe drew closer to a crowd of Ban that was growing by the second, the indistinct noise grew clearer, and she recognised Thog’s raised voice. Gods know, I’ve heard it often enough.

“I can’t deal with you when you’re like this!” A pause, and then, “Oh yeah, real mature.” Again, silence. “You know what, fuck you too!” Parting aside the crowd, Thog stalked forward, and Ashe caught a flash of pure Menace. I guess that solves the question of who he was arguing with. She stepped forward, and raised a hand, “Hey, Thog. Rough day?”

“Ashe, you don’t know the half of it. That bat-masked jerk has been pissed at me about something all day, and won’t tell me what the fuck I did…” His shoulders slumped as he fell into step beside Ashe.

“Sounds like you need a drink.” Ashe said, gently elbowing him in the side.

“I need several…” They lapsed into a companionable silence that suited the quiet village and their footsteps lead them Thog’s door. “Speaking of drinks, Ashe, I… uh, liberated a nice vintage from Old Inny and I was wondering if you’d like to… share it with me…” Thog looked at the ground and fidgeted nervously.

“That’s really nice of you, Thog, but you’d just be wasting your ‘vintage’… I can’t get drunk, remember?”

“Ashe, there’s more to drinking than just ‘getting drunk’. Sometimes, it’s about sharing a moment with friends, or remembering those we’ve lost.”

“OK, Thog, but I’m warning you, if you do anything embarrassing, I will remember.”

Entering Thog’s temporary dwelling, Ashe was struck by a bolt of nostalgia. “Hey, Thog, do you remember the last time we got drinks together? Back at Meadshire?”

“Ashe, that period of my life was a constant haze of regret and booze. You’re gonna have to be more specific.”

Getting comfortable on the low sofa (It was nice, and fit the room very well. Whichever Ban Thog had kicked out of here clearly had good taste) Ashe spoke again, “Well, it was shortly after the disappearances started, but before things got too bad. The tavern had closed up early, and we scrounged up a barrel that wasn’t all paint thinner. It actually looked like ale. Or at least, the idea of ale.”

“Oh, fuck, I completely forgot about that!” Thog stopped rummaging through a drawer, and turned around, a bottle in his hand, “We were shit-talking everything in Meadshire!”

“Haha, yeah!” Ashe’s face brightened at the memory. It was one of her only non-depressing ones from her time there.

“Huh. Interesting…” Thog was peering quizzically at Ashe, one eye brow raised slightly.

“What is it? Do I have something on my face?” Frantically scrubbing at her cheeks, Ashe could feel herself beginning to blush. It’s not my fault Xin is always in the hot springs!

“What? Nah, it’s just… That’s the first time I’ve seen you smile in a while. Not to mention how long it’s been since you’ve laughed like that.”

Thinking about it, Ashe realised she had been pretty serious lately. I guess I’ve been so busy trying to figure out what I am, I forgot to be myself… “Well, thanks for pointing that one out Thog. I’ll keep that in mind…”

“It wasn’t a rebuke, Ashe. Unlike some of our friends-” With a cough that sounded suspiciously the name “Inien”, Thog set the bottle and two small glasses on the table “-I can observe without criticising. Besides, you aren’t someone who needs to smile to…” Thog’s voice abruptly cut off.

“Needs to smile to what, Thog?” Ashe crossed her arms, her brow creasing.

“Ugh, I’ll tell you later, can we just start drinking already?” Thog said, as he poured two glasses. Picking them up, he offered one to Ashe.

“Fine, but I consider that a promise. I expect an explanation.”

“And you’ll get one. Don’t sweat it.” Raising his glass, he proclaimed “To absent friends, I guess.” The alcohol swiftly disappeared down his throat.

“To absent friends.” Ashe echoed, following suit.  “Woah, that’s some strong stuff! I think I almost felt something.”

4 drinks…

“Well, I don’t know how Markus keeps his hair so shiny.” Ashe accompanied her statement with a burst of laughter. “I’ve asked, but he just throws a hand-full of glitter into the air and walks away.”

“Is that so… No wonder the bar floor’s always covered with the stuff. I’ll have to have a talk with him sometime…” Thog frowned slightly, “But that’s a worry for later. Pour me another drink, would you?”

7 drinks…

“… and that, Asheling, is why cutlery is so important in Alarani culture.” Thog was not inebriated enough to start slurring his words, but it was a close thing. His shoulders had begun to slump, and his hand shook slightly as he refilled their glasses.

“Interesting. Is that why the bar doesn’t have any?”

“Shut up and drink.”

11 drinks…

“So there I was, elbow deep in a vat of magic potion, Gregor bleeding out on a table-’ Ashe gestured wildly as she recounted the tale of their time under contract in Altreia “-and for all I knew, Markus was being torn to shreds by rabid golems outside.”

“Well, I’m… sorry you had to go through that…” The drinks were clearly catching up to Thog, as he chose his words extremely carefully. “I wish I had done more…”

“Thog, you were responsible for securing us our freedom. You’ve more than made up for it.”

“I guess, but I still feel bad…”

“Would another drink help?”

16 drinks…

The bottle fell to the table, empty. Thog was really out of it, reclining on the couch right next to Ashe. She knew she wasn’t drunk, but Thog’s exhaustion was contagious… I don’t even want to get up. Though she had to admit, there was something comforting about his firmiliar presence beside her. Leaning her head onto his shoulder, she felt herself beginning to drift off to sleep. Right before she slipped away completely, Ashe heard a voice, quiet and far away.

“You aren’t someone who needs to smile to be beautiful, Asheling.” She felt an arm wrap around her shoulder and pull her close. “I hope you know that.”

“Thank you, Thog. For everything.” Ashe mumbled, returning his hug, as she felt her consciousness slip away.

Originally posted August 6th 2016 #Thrilling Intent #I wrote a thing #ThAshe #Alcohol use #Sorry it took so long!

ThAshe Fluff that took way longer to write then I thought it would

Some SFW ThAshe fluff that @wolfcat-hybrid kind of requested. I hope it was worth the wait! It probably isn’t

Spoilers for like every arc of TI. 

Keep reading

[pedropascalsx]

A Little Taste. {Dave York x F! Reader}

Summary: Reader does a little baking, and then has a little idea...

Warnings: Infidelity, unhappy marriage, food play, slight (f receving) oral, cockwarming, dirty talk, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dave york comes with his own warning.

Chapter: 4 of the Appreciation series.

Word Count: 2.3k

A/N: Thank you to my beta-half @djarinispunkk​! I love you, Lauren.

And shoutouts to my partners in crime @honestly-shite​ & @whataperfectwasteoftime!​ Who are so supportive of this series, and have been so wonderfully kind with feedback and letting me bounce ideas off of them. Lusting over these filthy man everyday with you both is always such a highlight. I love you.

The oversized kitchen island seemed much too small with the unholy amount of baking supplies covering it. The recipe book you’d popped out to buy earlier that morning was already covered in flour and powdered sugar, but you didn’t have time to worry about that. You had been informed just as you dropped Molly off at school that the class was required to bring in baked goods that afternoon to celebrate the last day before winter break. So, you rushed back home and grabbed your purse before making your way to the store to grab a bunch of supplies and a new cookbook to boot. Rainbow Sprinkle Funfetti Cake. The picture adorned the cover of the cookbook and you just knew that was the one you had to make. Baking had always been such a stress reliever for you; from perfectly measuring out every ingredient to revelling in the way that the delicious scent filled every room and made your mouth water with anticipation. You were so consumed in your task that you didn’t see him come in. You didn’t hear his footsteps, and you didn’t even know he was standing right beside you until you saw two thick fingers scraping inside the mixing bowl, gathering up a bunch of cake batter on his fingertips. Turning to look at him, you felt a shiver run through you, his eyes silently commanding you to focus on nothing else but him. He bought his fingers up to your mouth and raised an eyebrow, saying nothing but everything at the same time as your mouth opened and formed a perfect little ‘O’ for him to slide his fingers into. “Make sure you get it all,” he whispered into your ear, as you hollowed your cheeks around his digits, eyes still burning into his as he slowly began to pump them in and out of your mouth. “Such a good girl for me… Keep behaving and I’ll swap it for something I know you much prefer the taste of later.” You knew he somehow felt it, the way your pussy clenched at the promise of him using your throat however he saw fit. He spat out another ‘good girl’ behind gritted teeth, before pulling his fingers out of your mouth and sinking them into his own. “Make sure to bring me back a slice,” was all he said, before calling out to Carol in the next room about something you didn’t quite catch. You were left breathless, the task in front of you accidentally abandoned as you attempted to regain a little composure. The weight of his fingers lingered on your tongue and your pussy dripped with arousal, pulsing with an ache that you knew only Dave could satisfy. “Fuck,” you murmur as you pull yourself back into reality.

With the cakes baked, errands run and chores completed, you found yourself with an unexpected hour of free time to burn. You decided to take advantage of the alone time; Dave working from home in his office and Carol out with a group of “mom friends.” Reaching into your bedside table, your fingers fished out the bag that contained your vibrator and you place it next to you on the bed, pulling the bottom of your dress up and over your tummy before shimmying your panties down your legs. And then it hits you. An idea. To play the tease at Dave’s own game.

You put your vibrator back into its drawer and slowly make your way down to his office. With your ear pressed to the door, you hear him mumble out some incoherent drawl that confirms he is indeed on a call, and you slowly push open his door. He says nothing, but raises an eyebrow as you close the door behind you and take confident strides towards his desk. Phone still pressed to his ear, he focuses solely on you, clearly ignoring the conference call he’s dialled in to as he watches you with curiosity. Your teeth gently dig into your bottom lip as you stare into his dark brown eyes, watching the way his jaw rolls as you pull on the bottom of your dress to reveal to him your bare pussy. His expression remains blank as you plant your bare ass down on his solid oak desk and spread your legs in front of him. You catch it, the split second in which he allowed himself, or maybe couldn’t help but to let his eyes dip down and take in the sight laid out in front him. But he does nothing. He says nothing. He just continues to occasionally grunt or hum in agreement at whatever he’s listening to down the phone. A burning rises in your cheeks, and you feel yourself blush with embarrassment. You weren't entirely sure what the endgame here was going to be, but the lack of amusement on his face tells you that this wasn’t a good idea. After a few more intense stares you decide to vacate, silently hoping that he’ll let you both pretend this never happened. But as you attempt to stand, a strong arm wraps around one of your thighs and another pushes you back down. He shakes his head and pushes your legs apart again, modelling you in the same pose as just before. One of his hands leaves you only for a few seconds to press the mute button on his phone, before finding its place on your thigh again. “Tell me, what were you expecting to happen here?” he asks as his fingertips dig into the flesh of your thighs, pushing your legs even further apart. His tongue dips out to wet his bottom lip as he studies you, staring at the most intimate parts of your being with an undisguised lust. “Did you think you could just interrupt my work and I’d reward you by burying my tongue in this perfect little pussy? Oh… you sw-.” “I don’t know, I don’t know what I was thinking,” you splutter as he drags a finger through your folds, the call he was supposed to be on entirely forgotten about as he purposely rips his fingertip away from where you want to feel him most. “I think you do, and I don’t think you’re doing yourself any favours by pretending oth-“ “Da-” “Ah, ah ah,” he warns as you attempt to interrupt him for a second time. “Such a fucking pretty mouth” he murmurs, his hand coming up to grip the bottom of your chin, “It’s such a shame that you just can’t seem to keep it shut.” Your mouth opens once again so you can begin to explain yourself, but before any words are formed, he leans forward and drags his thumb across your bottom lip, eyes finding yourself before he jerks his head forward and spits into your mouth. He watches as your eyes widen in shock and he lets out a chuckle. “Appears that the only way I can get you to shut it up is by filling it with something. Swallow. Now.” You obey immediately, and he rewards you by rubbing a few lazy circles on your clit before pulling both of his hands away altogether and unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants and pulling his already rock hard cock free. He languidly strokes himself a few times before pulling his chair closer to the desk. Moving his head down, he peppers a few lazy kisses down your thighs before swiping his tongue through your folds, purposefully missing your clit. He repeats this action a few more times, until you’re squirming and begging him to give you what you need, and then he pulls away. “You’re going to be a good girl. You’re going to do as you’re told and you’re going to keep my cock nice and warm and IF I think you deserve it, once my call is over, I'll let you cum on it.” He moves you quicker than you can anticipate, and before you know it his arms are under your thighs and his hands are grabbing at your ass as he pulls you down on to him. A moan escapes between your lips as he fills you to the hilt, and a glance of warning is thrown your way as he positions you exactly how he wants you. “You made a mess on my desk,” he murmurs in your ear, “and the minute i'm done with you, you’re gonna lick it all up. Now be a good girl and sit still.” You feel his cock steadily throb inside of you as you bury your head into the crook of his neck, listening at his fingertips hit the button on his desktop phone to unmute the call. “Think we had some connection issues there,” he lies, “Did I miss anything important?” You keep glancing over at the clock, knowing you don’t have long before you need to go out, and he pulls you out of your thoughts by rolling his hips beneath you. Your teeth sink down into his clothed shoulder to stop from crying out, and you know you’re in for it. He makes an excuse to leave the call early and a shiver runs through you, a shiver that makes you clench down around him and a grunt escapes him. He slams down the receiver and you brace yourself for what’s coming your way. “You better hope that doesn’t leave a mark,” he grits out as he grips the bottom of your jaw, “Unless you want to explain to Carol why you’re sinking your teeth into me? Mhm.. is that what you want?” You shake your head and he raises an eyebrow at you. “Mhm. Now, I’ve got less than 10 minutes to work out whether I’m going to let you cum around my cock and quite honestly, I don’t think you deserve it. You kept clenching around me, that pretty little pussy kept gripping onto me so tightly that I thought I was going to lose it a few times… Not sure how long I can hold back from filling you with up my cum.” His hand gently brushes the hair back and off of your face, “So here’s what’s going to happen, I’m going to fuck up into you llike the filthy little whore that you are and if I think you’re riding my cock well enough, I’ll play with that pretty little clit and help you come quickly, so that you can soak my cock.” You nod in agreement before pressing your lips to his, feeling them against yours for the first time that day. The kiss is quick and messy, his tongue licking its way into your mouth before he abruptly breaks it. “Ride me,” he orders as he pulls your tits out the top of your dress. You obey, bouncing up and down as he fucks up into you, both his hands harshly grabbing on to your hips to pull you down harder on to him. “Fuck,” he groans, moving one hand up to your lips and ordering you to wet his fingertips before moving them down to your clit. His thrusts become a little softer as he works your bundle of nerves with his fingertips, rubbing perfect circles and groaning as you clamp down around him. “You feel that, baby? Can you feel how your perfect little cunt fits my fat cock like a glove?” he chokes out as his release pulls nearer, “Fucking cum for me baby” he orders, “Soak my cock, my little love.” Those three words throw you over the edge. Your whole body begins to convulse as you come apart on top of him, squeezing him so tightly you start to milk him of his own release. Ropes of ropes of his cum paint your inside, as he mumbles incoherent praises throughout his high whilst you come down from your own. You go boneless, head falling back into the little crook of his heck as you both pant and attempt to catch your breath. “You liked that, didn’t you? Fuck. The moment I called you that, your pussy squeezed me tighter than ever before. Mhm? Answer me.” “Y-Yes. I liked it. Fuck, that felt so good.” His mouth finds yours again and this time he takes his time, licking across your bottom lip and pushing his tongue into your mouth. His hands find their way into your hair as he presses his lips firmly against yours, pulling you even tighter against him. You audibly groan when he breaks the kiss, and he chuckles. “You have somewhere you need to be. Go get ready, my little love,” he whispers. You clench down around his softened cock, and he rewards you with a groan of his own. “And tonight, I'll come into your room and fill that pretty little mouth like I promised this morning.” With another quick kiss pressed against his lips, you lift yourself off of him and let your dress fall back down just above your knees. You start to walk away when he clears his throat. “Aren't you forgetting something?” he asks and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, just as he gestures to the small pool of arousal on his desk. “Clean it up. Now.” His voice leaves no room for compromise and your eyes flitter away from his for a second, looking down at his desk before finding his again. You take a step forward and lean down over his desk, keeping your eyes on his the entire time as your tongue swears across the woodwork and cleans up the mess you left earlier. “Fuck… Fucking filthy,” he chokes out as you pulls yourself back upright and make your way to the door. “See you later, Dave.” you say with a grin. Just as you exit the room, you hear him shout after you. “I meant it about bringing me back a slice of cake!”

[shurisneakers]

harmless (vii)

Summary: Bucky volunteers to go stop a small time villain, but nothing can prepare him for what exactly he has to deal with. (Bucky x villain!reader, drabble series)

Warnings: cursing, existential crisis, frustrated bucky, dramatic reader, lil bit of angst, clint barton being a lil shit

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: hey shoutout to @ugherik for suggesting a spin on the “A PLATYPUS!??!“ [perry puts his hat on] “PERRY THE PLATYPUS!???” thing. i used it in here, it’s a really small part and probably missable but i tried!! also i like the next chapter better than this one, i just wanted to put this here so it doesn’t seem abrupt <3333

here’s

my ko-fi

if you’d like to support my writing <333

Previous Part || Series Masterlist

Bucky can’t stop staring at the mirror.

He wishes it was for narcissistic purposes. He had enough reason for it to be. His age may be a hundred but he had the youthful exuberance of a very drained sixty year old.

But no, it wasn’t because of the steel cut jawline or thousand gigawatt smile.

After last week’s mini-spiral, he does what almost half the videos on TikTok warn him not to do.  

He got a haircut.

Everyone’s reaction stopped him from following it up with an ear piercing, but he can’t confidently say he didn’t at least consider it once. Maybe a neck tattoo. 

He pulls at a lock of hair. It’s not even longer than his finger.

What did he do-

“It’s just a haircut, man,” he says to no one in particular, almost like he’s trying to reassure himself.

He runs his hands through his hair. It takes lesser time than he was used to.

Steve had told him he looked good. But then again, Steve wore a fugly costume 90% of the time, what did he know?

Clint acknowledged it and didn’t outright call him ugly, which he supposed was a compliment. Wanda simply smiled at him.

“FRIDAY?” he reaches out.

“Yes, Sergeant Barnes?” comes the automated reply.

“How are you?” It took him some getting used to her, given that she was constantly listening to everything, and in general seemed to go against the universal idea of privacy. 

But his therapist told him he needed to form friendships. 

She didn’t mention it had to be human ones.

“As good as ever. Is there anything I can help you with?”

He wants to ask her what she thinks of his hair until he realises fashion advice from a faceless AI is a new low for him. Maybe ‘Do you think I should crawl into a pit and die?’ would be more appropriate. 

“Never mind,” he dismisses instead. “Any messages for today?”

“A reminder to buy a harder bed because you can’t keep sleeping on the floor.” Ah, that was on Sam’s recommendation three months ago, but he wasn’t going to stop any time soon. “And a text from a contact named Nuisance saying to meet them at the attached location in thirty minutes.”

“Where is the location?”

“The local sports centre.”

“Isn’t that closed today?” 

If he had to go out in public looking like this, maybe he could wear a cap and sunglasses and no one would recognise him. Unfortunately, as he was reminded several times before by anyone with an iota of common sense, it was a stupid disguise. 

Beanie it was, then. Bare minimum. 

“It is, yes.” Fewer citizens to worry about.

“Okay.” He hesitates in front of the mirror again, adjusting the hat on his head. “Thank you, FRIDAY.”

“You’re welcome, Sergeant.”

He stares at the little tuft of hair at the front that refused to stay down no matter how much he shoved it back.

“Come on, man,” he exhales in slight despair. “Whatever.”

____

The lock of the door leading to the pool is easy enough to pick. He can see how you got in without a hitch even though it was closed. 

The deck around the pool was absolutely drenched in water. No one was using it, there was no reason for water to splash out unless it was deliberately kept like this.

He catches sight of you easily, being that you’re the only two people there. You were standing at the end of the hall, head ducked as you scrolled through your phone.

The door closes behind him with a soft thud.

You don’t look up from your mobile when you start talking, “What do you think 6 year olds like?”

Because James Barnes, carbon dated to 1917 and therefore certified young person, would definitely know the answer to this question.

“I don’t know. Lego?”

“Just how much money do you think a teacher makes-”

You stopped mid-sentence, finally lifting your head to catch his eye. He stares back at you, steps faltering when you don’t move.

"Who are you?" you squinted.

What

"It's me," Bucky says, tugging off the dumb beanie and using it to gesture vaguely towards himself. Fuck, he shouldn’t have worn it, it was ridiculous anyway-

"You sound like him..." You narrow your eyes. “You don't look like him.”

Great

He rolls his eyes before putting on a mock scowl. Can't have Bucky Barnes without a sense of eternal disgruntlement.

"Oh hey, that is you." You grin. "You got a haircut."

“I did.” He suddenly feels the awkwardness increase. His fingers fidget with the beanie.

“Nice.” You nod in acknowledgement.

He wants to hit himself at the words that just spill out before he could think about it. “You hate it.”

“I never said that,” you snort. “And since when does my opinion matter?”

“It doesn’t.” But now he wants to know what you think since he didn’t trust anyone else to tell him honestly.

“Must cut down on time in the shower, huh?”

It did.

He shrugs. He shoves the beanie into his back pocket.

“Was it a crisis haircut?” How did you kno- “Are you going to get bangs next time?”

“Shut up,” he says lamely, a dull burn in his cheeks. 

“I know a place where you can get hair dye for cheap. Not technically FDA approved, but I think purple streaks are a good place to start-”

“What are we doing here?” he interrupts, sighing.

“Skinny dipping. Take off your shirt, Barnes.” 

“Funny,” he says dryly, eyeing your shoes when you straighten up.

Ice skates.

“Fine, pants then.” You don’t make any effort to move from your end so he does, walking closer to you. 

“What are those for?” He doesn’t hide the annoyance from his voice when he points at your feet.

“Oh, these?” You look down at them. “Yeah, I’m going to freeze the pool.”

That seems... mild compared to the shit show you wanted to do last time.

“For?” He halts where he is. 

“’M gonna take my friends ice skating.”

“Is that all?” He wants to make a comment about the fact that you have friends but bites it back.

“Today is just a trial run. Tomorrow I’m gonna go freeze the East River.” There it is.

“The East River is not your personal ice skating rink.”

“Not yet it isn’t.” You lift up a middle finger.

It was too early for you to flip him off, even by your standards.

He raises an eyebrow.

Your face scrunches in confusion. You follow his gaze to your finger. “Oh yeah, no, that’s a freeze ring.”

Only then he notices a ring around the finger. From where he was standing he could make out the blue stone that adorned it.

“Joy.” He rolls up the sleeves of his black bomber jacket. “Let’s get this done with, then.”

“No no, wait.” You hold up your hand and he complies, having nothing to lose anyway. You pull out your phone and press a few buttons before shoving it back into your bag and tossing it aside.

The soft sounds of a piano start playing from a boombox near the corner of the room. A child starts singing following a series of knocks.

His eyebrows furrow. “What the fuck is this?”

“The Frozen soundtrack.” You beam at him. “I thought it was fitting.”

He doesn’t know what that is and at this point, he’s too afraid to ask. He can vaguely make out the lyrics being about a snowman but he isn’t too concerned.

He takes one step forward. You immediately point your fist at the ground in front of him, forcing him to jump back when a blast hits right in front of his shoes. Suddenly he gets why the floor is covered in water.

It sounds like a series of cracks as the water starts freezing over, a layer of ice now separating him and you.  

"You ready?” The mischief was woven in your voice as the blasts continued throughout the deck, effectively turning the entire floor into ice.

Bucky takes a step tentatively forward. Not bad. He takes another. Okay.

The third one is when shit starts to hit the fan. His hands shoot out to hold onto his balance when his footing slips from beneath him.

His Nike sneakers aren’t used to snow. They’re used to well manicured lawns and pavement trips to Starbucks and marble floors of the compound. Not swimming pool decks covered in ice.

He can hear you singing in the distance and every time he looks up you’re a little further away, making sure every inch of space is frozen.

It takes him a while to get over the initial fear of breaking his skull and just move forward swiftly with short steps. A goddamn penguin is what he looked like.

“There you go, you’re getting it,” you chirp as you whiz past him. He reaches out to grab at you, only to miss by an inch. He staggers, arms flapping wildly to regain his stability.

He hears crackling beside him. He gets a second or two to watch ice crystals spread through the water before turning it completely solid. You step onto the now frozen pool, testing your weight with one leg before cautiously getting on.

A triumphant smile emerges on your face. “Awesome.”

He manages to press himself against the wall as a form of support. 

There is no point to this whole thing. He knows this. It’s been well over 6 weeks and there is genuinely no point to this.

He realises it again when he moves from side to side, body erupting into a waddle. 

Why is he doing this. He doesn’t get paid extra. He doesn’t get any kind of compensation. All he gets is more wisecracking geniuses, embarrassment and the mortifying ordeal of getting caught imitating a penguin.

The song changes to a woman singing about doing something for the first time, forcing him to pay attention to it. He hears something about ball room and balls and tunes right back out.

Bucky manages to find his way to the actual pool since that’s where you’re twirling around, opting to land on his mental arm in case things go wrong. He takes a sliding step forward, followed by another. Maybe he can do this. 

“If a 200 pound super soldier can stand on this, I suppose it’s strong enough,” you muse, watching him slip and slide as he tries to invent makeshift ice skating.

Unfortunately, his method doesn’t have any brakes, so while he’s too busy trying to move forward, there’s no way to actually stop. He finds this out very soon when he almost launches himself off the edge of the pool.

Something yanks him backwards and back onto the ice.  

“Honestly, this is utterly useless since you can’t really do anything but it’s the most fun I’ve had all week,” you admit when he goes sliding towards the middle, arms flailing.

“You had to pick fuckin’ ice of all things.” He thinks that maybe he’s getting a hang of this. He can definitely move faster than what he was doing like, 10 minutes ago. It’s not like you were going anywhere, anyway. 

“I like to keep things spicy.”

He stays where he is to glare at you. You mouth the words to the song, watching his every move whenever it interested you. 

Okay, change of plan; a temporary distraction till he figures out how to actually get the ring from you. He settles on skating towards the edge of the rink slowly, taking a step off, slipping almost immediately when his foot comes in contact with the deck. 

“Where are you going?” you yell over the music initially but immediately break into song when it ends in a crescendo.

He takes a knee, lifting his metal arm up before driving it into the ground. It shatters magnificently, leaving small shards of ice at his disposal. 

He picks up one of them, waiting for you to complete your dumb twirl. He takes aim, and-

“Ouch, what the fuck?” You stop your off key singing to rub your shoulder where the ice hit you.

He wordlessly picks up another piece to throw at you, hitting you squarely in the leg.

“Stop that!”

He may not be able to move as fast but he can definitely throw. 

“Give me the ring,” he commands, stretching his arm behind his back before releasing another piece to hit your forearm. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” There’s nowhere you can skate to avoid his stupidly good marksmanship. 

“You gotta do what you gotta do.” He shrugs, breaking another patch of ice to replenish his ammo. “Hand over the ring.”

“Over my dead body,” you shriek when a particularly big piece lands next to your feet. You knew he missed that shot on purpose.

“I feel like I’m finally acting my age,” he says casually, finding your darting about in order to avoid him more fun than he initially thought. “Can’t throw pebbles at meddling kids so this is the next best option. Thanks.” 

“If you acted your age you’d be in a casket, Barnes,” you hissed, finding that skating in zig zags helped your cause, but not by much. “I’d be- you bitch- I’d be more than happy to help you get there.”

You raise your arm, ready to send another blast to freeze the water that was starting to melt around him, hopefully, keep him where he was if it froze around him. 

He flinches. You notice immediately, hand dropping slightly when you realise what it looked like.

“I’m not gonna freeze you,” you say, softer than you intended. From what you knew, he had enough and more experience with that and you weren’t going to contribute to it. 

He swallows thickly, giving himself a little shake of his head as if to jolt him out of his train of thought. 

Another piece of ice hits you in the leg. You let out a string of curses at him.

“The more ice you make, the more I have to throw at you, Y/N.” He waits for you to regain your balance when you nearly take a stumble. 

“Shut up, you’re so immature.”

“Remind me whose plan this was again?” No point waiting for you to regain your balance when you fall over only a few seconds later. 

He gathers a few shards in his beanie, tucking it into his belt like a little makeshift rucksack just in case before venturing out on the main rink again. 

It’s more difficult for you to stand without railings to guide you, giving him enough and more time to make his way towards you, staggering and skidding. 

Both of you looked ridiculous. 

“Stay away, fiend.” 

“Ring first.” He holds his hand out in front of you. He even considered pulling you up if you just made things easier.

Next thing he knows he’s on his ass on the ice beside you. 

“I hate you,” he groans, watching as you inch away from him on your knees.

He doesn’t really have any other options so he shoves aside the humiliation and gets on his knees, using his arms to drag him along the ice.

“For the love of Christ, none of us are winning here. Just give me the ring.”

The bitch from the soundtrack sings about letting it go but he won’t. 

“Never,” you shout, sliding away from him as fast as possible. 

You make use of the fact that the top layer of ice is starting to melt, using the ring to freeze it again. His knees and fingers get stuck as the water freezes over but he has super strength. It barely takes him a second to free himself. 

“Great,” he huffs, just settling down on the ice, ignoring the sting of cold that was spreading through his limbs. Running after you wasn’t going to work; he needed a way to get the ring. 

“You won last time, I’m not letting you win again.”

“Are we seriously keeping score?” He watches as you scramble towards the edge.

“No one likes a loser, Bucky.” You use the pool stair railings to pull yourself up.

“Explain why you have friends then.” He can’t help himself this time. 

“Hardy har har.” You roll your eyes. 

He doesn’t make an effort to move. Instead, when you take a step back into the rink, he raises his arm and pummels it into the ice, just to annoy you. 

The ground damn near shakes, pushing you dangerously towards losing your balance again. 

“Are you crazy?” Your arm shoots out in front of you to keep you from falling headfirst. 

“No.” He does it again. This time there’s a crack in the ice. “I’m just very tired.”

“If the ice breaks we’re both gonna be underwater, you moron!”

“Fine by me.” He shrugs. “Freeze it again. I’ll just find different ways to ruin it for you.”

You glare at him. He raises his arm above his head again.

“Fine! Fine, stop.” You eye him as he lowers his arm. 

He reaches for his stash of ice pieces from earlier, throwing one at your shoulder again.

“Boy, I swear if you don’t stop doing that-” you duck when another one comes at you. You had no idea he could be this annoying. 

It suddenly hits him, like a lightbulb going off in his brain. He wipes his hands off on his jacket, getting on all fours before slowly managing to pick himself up again. 

He looks at you, tilting his head slightly like he was studying you.

“What?” you ask suspiciously, eyeing as he starts inching closer towards you. “What are you thinking?”

It’s like watching a newborn deer stumble its way through the world, albeit more gracefully, until he starts picking up speed. The motherfucker was going to mow you down.

The skates are useful but not so much when an extremely determined bumbling oaf is barrelling towards you, his speed beginning to match yours even without equipment. 

You don’t know why you’re running, you don’t know why he’s chasing after you but when you see the end of the pool you take a sharp left only to have him knock right into you, sending you both sprawling.

You land half on top of him, breaking your fall but it doesn’t stop the very loud groan that escapes your mouth. He’s already in the process of sitting up straight, giving you less time to analyse what just happened.

“What the fuck was that for?” you speak through gritted teeth. “Fuckin’ acting like the both of us have free healthcare.”

“You refused to give up.”

“So your plan was to tackle me like a quarterback?” You threw your hands up.  

“One part of it.” He drags himself to the edge, away from you. 

“There's more to your monkey brained plan?” He doesn’t look at you. The ice around the pool has more or less melted, letting him gain proper footing on the floor before he stands up. 

“Oh, yeah.” He turns to you. “The other’s a trick I stole from Stark.”

Bucky holds up the ring. Your jaw slightly drops, eyes searching your finger for the now missing piece of tech. 

“Suppose that’s two points for me?” 

You’re impressed. You also want to stab him. So you do the next best thing.

“When I imagined you holding a ring in front of me, the circumstances were very different,” you comment.

“Bye, Y/N.” He spins on his heel, not even giving you a second’s worth of reaction. You found it amusing.

He heads towards the door, clothes all wet. He empties out melted ice water from his beanie before stuffing it into his pocket. Just when he’s about to leave, you remember something. 

Do you mean it genuinely or just because it has an effect on him? 

“Just for the record, Barnes, about your hair-” you call out, earning his attention from over his shoulder. “I think you look really good either way.”

The world may never know. 

You swear you can see the corners of his lips quirk upwards before he turns around again. 

He slips on a block of ice, cursing and clenching on to the door to keep him upright, quickly yanking it open and leaving before he has a chance to embarrass himself further.

Smooth.

Next part

[theweasleysredhair]

Wait For It [F.W.]

Character: Fred Weasley

Word Count: 3488

Requested?: Yes/No

Summary: ‘Death doesn't discriminate between the sinners and the saints, it takes and it takes and it takes. And we keep living anyway. We rise and we fall and we break and we make our mistakes.’ [Based on ‘Wait For It’ from the musical Hamilton].

WARNING: major character death, other character deaths

Tags: @gracemayhateyou @criminalyetminimal @angelinathebook @iprobablyshipit91 @potterverseimagine @slytherineheir @kpopgirlbtssvt @rexorangecouny @mytreec @hemmoporro @thisismysketchbook @acciotwinz @shadowsinger11 @aaannabbanana @lestersglitterglue @anyasthoughts @lxncelot @harrypotter289 @starlightweasley @slytherinsunrise @valwritesx @hufflrpuffforfred @cappsikle @kiwi-sloan @potter-redheads @pigwidgexn @twinkyjohnson @sarcasticallywitty15 @tyyyweasley @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @wonderful-writer @marauders-loving-queen @vogueweasley @marvelettesassemble @thisismynerdyself @gcdric @loony-loopy-lupinn @tinylumpiaa @locke-writes @pussytalenteditdocartwheels @ickle-ronniekins @sehunasbitch @cryingforcrystalpepsi @kashishwrites @girl-next-door-writes @susceptible-but-siriusexual @crissdanvers @whiz-bangs78 @heart-of-tempered-steel @oh-for-merlins-sake @heavenlymidnight @aylinw3asley @vivianweasley | message or send an ask to be added/removed!

Disclaimer: Gif isn't mine, credit to whoever made it

A/n: got a bit carried away with the angst... prepare your hearts guys - i cried a lot and i’m the one who wrote it. anyways lil shoutout to haley @wand3ringr0s3 bc she let me talk out this fic idea and also she’s the queen of angst fics. anyways enjoy x

~*~

PLEASE DO NOT REPOST MY WORK! REBLOGS ARE ABSOLUTELY FINE! <3

+ + + + +

Love;-

His ginger hair was illuminated by the light from the fire, his brown eyes sparkling with mischief and lips curled up into a cheeky smile - one you adored on him, one that made your heart race.

He sat beside Lee, retelling the story of one of his more outrageous pranks, waving his hands in enthusiasm as you smiled at him. You weren’t quite listening, too caught up in his voice and how passionate he was, your heart beating fast as you pulled a knee up to rest your chin on as you watched him.

The conversation moved on quickly from there, but you couldn’t bring yourself to remove your gaze from the eldest twin, moving to lean on George’s arm as you listened, but making no move to join in with them.

“I can’t wait to ask her.”

The words piqued your interest, and you almost jolted from your seat as you heard him say those words, feeling like your heart was in your throat.

Who was he talking about?

“She’s... she’s amazing. She’s smart, she’s funny. She’s fit. If she says yes to me, I’ve hit the jackpot I reckon,” Fred grinned, leaning back into the sofa. His eyes flickered over to you for just a moment and you smiled back at him absent-mindedly.

You couldn’t help it. You loved him.

Lee nudged Fred, wiggling his eyebrows at him, “When are you gonna ask her to the ball?”

Fred cleared his throat and sat up straighter, and you caught his gaze, a small - very hopeful - part of you praying he was going to ask you, and ask you at that moment.

When his gaze moved swiftly onto George, you finally looked away, staring at the fire. And though you knew, deep down, that he wasn’t talking about you, you hoped.

“Tomorrow.”

You’d wait and hope with all your heart he’d pick you.

***

You’d felt nervous all day, a ball of negative energy curling in your stomach as you wandered through your lessons aimlessly, heart clenching every time you saw Fred speaking to a girl, hoping he wasn’t asking her, yet knowing he might be.

You thought studying in the hall was going to be an easy hour, sitting by your close friends, including Angelina and Alicia, the twins and Lee sitting a little further up the benches, near Harry and Ron.

There was some mumbling, and then you heard Ron hiss, “Who’re you going with then?”

You slowly looked up, so as to not draw attention to yourself or show yourself as interested, however as you glanced over at the boys, you noticed Fred staring.

And for a moment, a small gap in time, your heart leapt as you thought he was looking at you. His brown eyes caught yours and he winked, and you felt your throat closing up, thought maybe there was a possibility of him asking you.

He threw the scrunched up ball of paper in your direction, and you held your breath, a smile curling onto your lips as the paper flew towards you. You practiced how you’d say yes to him in your head, imagined what you’d wear, how you’d do your makeup. What colour his tie would be - the same colour as your dress, you’d hope.

And then the paper sailed past your eyeline, hitting Angelina on her shoulder. Your heart sank, blood rushing through your ears as you watched Fred ask her to the ball, felt the pain in your chest growing as watched her nod.

It was one thing knowing he didn’t feel the same about you as you did about him, another to know he felt that way for someone else. More specifically, one of your closest friends.

You ripped your gaze away from them and stared down at the paper in front of you, quill nearly breaking from the force you were applying to it, throat closing up as you blinked away your tears, not wanting anyone to see.

The study time felt like it lasted hours, your hands shaking as you packed your things up and headed straight for your common room, burying yourself under the blankets on your bed and screaming into your pillow.

You were sure you were in love with Fred Weasley, as certain as you were that the sky was blue and grass was green. Your happiness grew when you heard him laugh, heart pounding whenever he was near.

He loved Angelina though.

Tears soaked your pillow as you tried to put your heart back together somehow. Tried to be okay with it.

But how were you supposed to get over a boy you were never with? How were you supposed to fall out of love with someone that didn’t love you?

Your chest ached, eyes sore from wiping away tears, yet they still fell.

And so you sat, crying over a love you never had. And most likely never would.

-

Death;-

“How’re you feeling?” Fred asked as he joined you in a secluded area of the castle. The battle preparations were ongoing, with everyone quickly projecting all the protective spells they knew on any part of the school they could.

You looked out and could see a swarm of black figures heading towards you in the distance, making everything seem that much more real, that much more scary.

“Scared,” you admitted glancing up at the redhead, who nodded.

“Me too,” he confirmed. He opened his arms and pulled you into his chest, into a warm hug. You closed your eyes, breathing in his scent as your arms wrapped tightly around him.

You both stood there for just a while, his hands rubbing your back reassuringly, and you decided, in that moment, you needed to tell him.

You needed to tell him you loved him.

Needed him to know, before you both set off fighting. Needed to know if there was chance for you both - if this was another reason to fight.

“I need to tell you something, before it all starts,” your voice was quiet, but you knew Fred heard as he pulled away to look at you, his hands still holding your waist as he focused on you.

“What is it?”

“I-“ you hesitated for a moment, swallowing nervously as your gaze dropped to the floor. Fred lifted your head up gently with his thumb, a touch that set your skin alight, one that sent shivers down your spin.

“What’s wrong?” He asked softly, in contrast to his usual booming voice, a concerned look set on his features as he looked down at you, his brown eyes showcasing his worry.

“Please don’t hate me,” you replied, just as soft. You squeezed your eyes tightly, feeling him grab one of your hands in his as the hand on your chin moved to cup your cheek.

“Darling, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?”

You bit your lip, reopening your eyes and catching his gaze, your heart pounding as you tried to think of the words you wanted to say, “I don’t want to go into this battle without you knowing, so I- I guess what I’m trying to say is... well, I’m in love with you.”

Silence is odd, having the ability to be both comfortable and tension-filled depending on the company and context. Usually, silence around Fred was comforting, knowing he was there without either of you having to say a word. But this silence, the silence that hung over you, made your heart leap to your throat, and you swallowed harshly, wincing at the wide-eyed look he was giving you at this revelation.

His hand dropped from your cheek and he stepped away just a little, just enough that you swore he probably could’ve heard your heart crack, before he finally spoke, his voice a shaky whisper, as if he didn’t know what to say, how to reply.

“Y/n, darling, I love you...”

You felt your eyes widening a little, heart beating fast now due to his response. You didn’t think you’d ever hear him say those three little words, ones that held so much meaning. The beginnings of the battle around you faded, and you could only think about how you loved Fred, and Fred loved you. Everything was going to be okay - you had each other.

Just as you were going to step forward, a watery laugh nearly escaping your lips, you realised he was still finishing his sentence, that he hadn’t finished answering you.

“... but only as a friend.”

His voice was gentle, but his words cut like glass, sharp pieces hitting your chest and ripping your skin, the words reverberating in your head. And suddenly warm tears were falling down your cheeks - you’d let yourself get your hopes up, let yourself imagine a life where you loved Fred and he loved you. When in reality, he didn’t love you.

He wasn’t in love with you.

You took a shaky breath, nodding at him as you pressed your lips together, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stepped back away from him.

“I know,” you whispered, looking away from his gaze, feeling embarrassed, above anything else, trying to force a smile onto your face, “I-I know... I just- I needed to tell you.”

You swallowed, shaking your head. You felt stupid. He’d never shown he was interested, you didn’t know why you’d ever thought there was a chance.

He ran a hand through his messy hair, before reaching out towards you, a look of sympathetic despair crossing his features as he tried to bring you closer to him.

As his fingers brushed yours and you pulled away as though he burnt you, he felt his heart clench, taking a shaky breath as he watched one of his closest friends pull away from him, tears lining his vision as you moved further away from him, his hand hovering mid-air as though he still wanted - needed - you to be near him.

“Love, please. I-I can’t lose you. Please, let’s just- Let’s talk about this. After all this- please. Don’t walk away, I-I need you Y/n. I’m sorry I don’t lov- but that doesn’t mean I don’t care about you. I care about you so so much,” his lips were trembling, tears falling freely as he reached out again, a sob escaping his lips as you hesitated, allowing him to take his hand in yours for just a moment.

“It’s okay, Freddie,” you whispered, though he and you both knew it wasn’t okay, and possibly wouldn’t ever go back to the way things were before you told him you loved him, “I just- I need to be alone.”

“We’re going into battle, I need you to know that I-“

“I’m sorry,” you shook your head, “I can’t do this.”

Fred tried desperately to get you to stay. He didn’t want to watch you leave, to watch you walk away from him. Not like this, not when you were both about to risk your lives fighting in a dangerous battle, where one wrong move could cost you your life.

“But I-“

“I need to go,” You pulled your hand from his and turned on your heel, wiping your tears away quickly as you ran off.

Fred’s mouth opened, as if he wanted to say something, as if he wanted to call after you, before closing it again and shaking his head sadly, wiping a last lone tear that fell down his cheek before shoving his hands into his pockets.

He’d find you after the battle and speak to you, he decided.

He couldn’t lose you. Not like this.

***

You were tired. The battle wore on around you as you stumbled through the fallen pieces of the building around you, overwhelmed at the fighting and overcome with the realisation that you were basically a bunch of kids trying to fight in a war you tried to prevent.

You hadn’t seen anyone for a while, being towards the back of the school, only fighting the occasional death eater who wandered close to you. You were hiding out after a particularly nasty hex left a gash down your arm, trying your best to bandage it up as best you could.

You hoped everyone was okay, had already passed by Colin Creevey lying on the floor as you found somewhere to hide. You’d almost stopped for a moment, hoping he was just unconscious, however the angle he was lay at told you otherwise, and you forced yourself to move on before anyone came back.

Still reeling with emotion from your talk before the battle, you’d shot spells carelessly at death eaters, hoping it was enough to keep them away. To keep you alive.

You turned the corner, wand raised, your eyes scanning the scene as you tried to find somebody - anybody.

And that’s when you saw it.

A flash of light, and you felt yourself running towards it, stumbling over the rubble, dodging spells in desperation. It hit the wall, the ginger boy stood underneath unaware.

You screamed out his name, the sound somehow cutting through the spells and fighting, your lungs burning as you willed yourself to run faster.

It played out in your mind in slow motion, the light, the stone crumbling, falling.

Fred turned at the sound of your voice, a smile etched on his face from something Percy had said, but just before you could push him out of the way, the wall fell.

You halted, barely metres away, nearly losing your footing as you choked out a sob, tears streaming as you stared at Percy, who had the same stricken look on his face.

Neither of you spared a glance around you before rushing towards where the eldest twin once stood, desperate to find him, to make sure he was okay.

Removing the pieces of rubble with a desperation you didn’t know you could feel, until you found a tuft of ginger hair sticking out between two broken bricks. Your heart clenched, stuck in your throat as you revealed his face, his last smile etched onto his features.

You didn’t hear the scream that left your mouth, didn’t feel Percy gently moving you so he could remove the stones from on top of the rest of Fred’s body.

Your eyes wandered across his face, his freckled skin, the slope of his nose and down to his chapped lips. Tears fell onto his face as your hands rested on his shoulders, gripping onto the fabric of his sweater, sobs racking through your body as you ignored the battle going on around you.

“Wake up, Freddie, please wake up!”

Your pleas went unanswered, the ginger boy laying before you still, his face unwavering.

“No, please!” You sobbed. You didn’t notice Percy’s hand on your shoulder, or his heartbroken mentions to move his little brother away from the fighting - to move you away from the fighting.

You clung to Fred, not wanting to let him go, not being able to, “You gotta wake up, Fred. This isn’t funny, this isn’t a good prank. Please wake up. Please just-“

You ran a hand through his hair and wiped your tears off his cheek, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry for walking away. Please. We need you. George needs you. I need you. Please.”

Your voice cracked as you spoke to him, white noise filling your ears as all you could focus on was the sight of the boy laying before you, cuts across the side of his head, his brown eyes once shining, now dull. You grabbed his hand, holding it in yours, refusing to let go.

You weren’t sure when Fred’s body was taken from you, when he was moved into the Great Hall, too shaken up to think of anything but the thought of the wall falling over and over again, playing out in your mind like a cruel nightmare, each time you were too late, barely metres too late, seconds too late to stop it.

You sobbed into George’s shoulder, his head resting on yours as you both cried.

Before anything, Fred was one of your closest friends. One of your best friends. And now you’d never get to see him smile again, never hear his laugh or get to play silly pranks with him.

You’d never hug him again, never hear his flirty comebacks and witty jokes.

And as you felt George’s clutch tighten on you, both as broken as the other at losing the person you loved the most, a grief-stricken sob escaped your lips, causing George to pull away a little to see if you were okay, his eyes bloodshot, tears streaming down his face, still so caring after losing his other half, your bottom lip trembled as you thought back over everything.

You had walked away from him. Your last words bouncing around your head - I need to go. In your haste, you never said goodbye to the boy you loved. And now you never could, would never get the chance.

George squeezed his eyes tight as he brought you closer to his chest, you grabbing a handful of his t shirt in your fist as tears streamed down both your faces. You mumbled something inaudible into his chest and he moved to hear you better. The same words fell out of your mouth over and over, between broken sobs and falling tears,

“I’m sorry, I was too late.”

-

Life;-

The first few months after the battle were difficult. You saw him in everything - in every bit of laughter, every bright colour, every joke.

You saw him in George, who’d tried his hardest to forget. He’d smashed all his mirrors, tried to dye his hair, before you found him, collapsed in a ball of sobs in the middle of his flat, whispering, “Please, bring him back.”

After living his entire life with Fred in it, he didn’t know how to live without him.

You relied on each other to get you through, taking it day by day, trying to mend your hearts, broken in different, yet very similar ways.

The nightmares were the worst.

Waking up in cold sweats, seeing the wall collapse in front of you, knowing you were too late and didn’t get to say goodbye to the boy you loved. Knowing if you were just a few seconds earlier, George would still have his twin brother by his side, laughing and making jokes like usual.

“The worst part isn’t remembering. It’s easy to remember. The worst part, the hardest part, is those times I forget to remember. I forget that he’s not here, that he’s gone. And then I remember and I feel so guilty,” you’d told George, half a year after the battle. It was nearing Christmas, a time you both used to love, yet now you were apprehensive, didn’t know how to do Christmas without Fred.

George had replied sweetly, wrapping his arms around you and hugging you. And whilst it didn’t feel the same as the way Fred had hugged you before the battle, the feeling was comforting, warm and familiar, “He knew you loved him. You cared for him, watched over him to make sure he didn’t do anything too stupid. And now he gets to return the favour and watch over you.”

“He’s really gone isn’t he. He’s just... gone.”

The night you’d gone through his things with George was difficult. It was sad, sometimes overwhelming, but you also got to sit and just remember, reminding yourselves who Fred was.

With every Weasley product you found, with every photograph you came across, every sweater, broken quill and long-forgotten sketch, your sad tears began to turn into happy ones, laughing with George about your times in Hogwarts, about better days gone by.

It was funny, that even though he was gone, he could still bring smiles to your faces.

Maybe that’s why he was so special, why it hurt so much to lose him. He made the people around him happy, through everything.

You visited him often, needing to apologise, to properly say goodbye. Or just to feel like you were close to him again. To thank him for all he’d done, for allowing you to love him how you did. For being such an important person in so many people’s lives.

Wiping a tear that fell down your cheek, your hand reached out to hold onto the gravestone before you for balance, smiling through your tears as your fingers ran across his name, engraved on the stone.

‘Fred Weasley

1st April 1978 - 2nd May 1998’

You kneeled down, placing a single flower across the grass in front of the stone. It’d been years since you’d lost Fred and somehow the pain got worse every day.

But you knew, with time, things would get better. You’d find your happiness, and learn to move on.

All you had to do was wait for it.

[ickle-ronniekins]

chemical reaction

request from nonnie! “hiiiii! love ur writing sm ! could I request a fic with George maybe like an enemies to lovers kind of thing? or maybe like she’d hated him and he’d actually fancied her the entire time or something? thank you!!”

pairing: george x fem!reader (no specific house)

word count: 5.7k whoops sorry

A/N: i LOVED this request; i don’t think i'd ever really written an enemies to lovers fic before.. maybe once, so i adored this. wish this could be me and him rn tbh. also, had to put a hand through the hair in there ~shoutout to my gals~ anyway, please leave feedback, comments, reblog, share with your friends if you wish, thanks!

tag list: @mintlibri @georgeweasleyx @seppys-return-to-madness @fopdoodledane @fredd-weasley @iprobablyshipit91 @darling-details @laneygthememequeen @lupinsx @keoghans @helloallthethingsilove @waschbiber @dreamer821 @feffffffy @the-hufflepuff-of-221b @62442-am @wtfweasleyy @obsessedwithrandomthings @thoseofgreatambition @harrysweasleys @sleep-i-ness @shadychaoticcollection @haphazardhufflepuff @afriendlyneighborhoodhufflepuff @hood-and-horan @letsfightsomeorcs @theweasleysredhair @purpleskiesstorm @hxfflxpxffs @wand3ringr0s3 @finecole @angelinathebook @highly-acidic @purplefragile @90shermione @zreads @susceptible-but-siriusexual @hollands-weasley @andromedaa-tonks @bbstrawberry0421 @princessof-theuniverse @cappsikle @mytreec @imseeinggred @idont-knowrn @flyingserpxnt @auroraboringalis57 @godricsswords @jejegu | message me to be added, loves!

There was no denying the indisputable chemistry between you both. Everyone could see it. It was pretty difficult to miss, actually, especially when the two of you spent nearly every single lesson at one another’s throats.

“I’m warning you, Weasley -- stay as far away from me as you possibly can. I don’t want you and your misplaced priorities anywhere near me.”

“Wow, it is a pleasure to be insulted by you. Really.”

It all started in your third year. The very misguided and frivolous George Weasley and his brother, Fred, had decided to be prats in your Potions lesson. You’d never really had any interaction with them before that; you were their absolute and complete opposite. You’d preferred to spend most nights borrowing any and all books from the library and reading through them as quickly as you could, or spending your afternoons with the Dueling Club to further your studies with spells, charms, and incantations; whereas the two of them were always setting off fireworks in the Astronomy tower, or whatever the bloody hell two thirteen-year-old pranksters did.

Potions had been normal that day -- Snape had his usual displeased scowl painted on his face, and you were continually checking the clock and counting down the seconds until you could leave and speed off toward your History of Magic lesson. That is, until George had purposefully put the wrong ingredient into his cauldron, causing a spark, resulting in an explosion quite larger than they’d presumed and a ghastly horrible sight: one of your eyebrows burning off completely.

You’d been outraged; while the majority of the class had been too startled and shocked to let a laugh escape their lips, the twins had absolutely no issue erupting into a fit of obnoxious giggles, obviously incredibly pleased at their error. Snape had even cracked somewhat of a grin (if you could consider the edge of his lip slightly curling upward in a sort of mock expression a grin), but he still threw all three of you into detention. You! In detention! For getting your bloody eyebrow burnt off by a juvenile boy!

You and George hadn’t been the fondest of one another since.

In an attempt to separate yourself from him, you’d completely changed course -- McGonagall had been able to help you switch out some of your lessons for others. You didn't really want to take Divination, but if it meant being away from him for an hour and a half of your day, then so be it. You were going to have to be okay with your choices.

Until you heard the sardonic, cool wash of his voice from behind you.

“Fancy meeting you here.”

He sluggishly fell into the seat next to you; (of course, it being the only open spot left as he’d arrived precisely two minutes after the bell signaling the start of the lesson) he propped his feet up on the table in between you both. With your mouth still agape and brows threaded together, you angrily shoved his feet off of the table and slammed your spellbook down in place of them. “What the bloody hell are you doing here?” you huffed, folding your arms across your chest. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be right now? Like setting fire to a third year’s eyebrows? Or detention, perhaps?”

He scoffed airily. “Oh, hilarious, darling -- really; right fantastic joker, you are. No, you see, contrary to popular belief, I don’t spend every waking hour cleaning out cauldrons, or --”

You cut him off, “Oh, and here I was thinking that you’d make a perfectly adequate cauldron cleaner if a full time opportunity were to present itself.”

He didn’t skip a beat. “-- or setting fire to third year’s eyebrows.”

“No?”

“No,” he replied throatily. And then, that all too familiar smirk of his. “Only to those who deserve it.”

You were about to snap back with some snarky retort, but thankfully Trelawney’s very soft-spoken voice floated through the room and managed to calm you down a bit. It didn’t stop you from sneering at George completely though, as he relaxed back into his chair and grinned to himself like an idiot.

You yanked your spellbook off of the table and turned to the desired page; you didn’t really fancy the idea of doing more research on crystal gazing, palmistry, ornithomancy, and tessomancy, but seeing as N.E.W.Ts were coming up, it only made sense that Professor Trelawney would make you revisit these desired areas of study.

“Gaze into the beyond!” she cried, “and tell your partner what you see!”

George very obviously rolled his eyes as you peered closely into the crystal ball. You couldn’t see anything except smoke, and so you furrowed your brows even more, as if to will yourself to concentrate. It was no use. You hated this subject; you’d only taken it to get away from him, anyway! He scoffed at the sight of you concentrating fiercely. “And what is it,” he asked you in an uncanny expression of your professor, “that you see?”

You shot him a glance and backed away from the crystal ball, scribbling something down on your parchment, and then turning your attention back toward him. “I see myself trying to lower my blood pressure and focus on my work,” you said cheerily, “because the idiot sat across from me is being an even bigger git than normal.”

“Wow,” he replied, his voice fierce with mock surprise. He widened his eyes and nodded his head fervently. “You’re really rubbish at this, aren’t you?”

His quips made your blood boil.

It felt as if it were hours before the lesson had ended; when the bell rang mercifully, you packed up your things in a rush and nearly sprinted out of the classroom, without a last glance or a word to George. This was going to be a long bloody year.

-- -

“So what’ve you been learning in Divination, Georgie?”

You groaned and placed your head directly on top of your parchment. Why is it that they always seem to end up where you are? This was the library, they had absolutely no business being here. This was your turf, and it always had been.

“Little of this, little of that,” George replied to his brother, his voice merry. “Been revisiting some old tasks to prep for N.E.W.Ts. Oh, that reminds me -- I was crystal gazing the other day.”

“Yeah?” Fred’s voice heightened. You could hear the smirk and the eyebrow raise. “And what did you see?”

“Well, it was kind of difficult to tell,” George said, “my huffy, stuffy partner kept distracting me with her bloody obnoxious sighs every single time I so much as blinked in her direction.”

You slammed shut the very large book you were reading as the twins and their friends erupted into laughter, swiveled your way through students, and returned the book to its proper place on the shelf. To your delight, Madam Pince was not too keen on noise in the library, and immediately began scolding them. This didn’t stop George from sending you a wink and a shake of the head before you vanished in the corridor. Merlin, he was going to drive you bloody mad.

-- -

You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. Had your friends gone absolutely bonkers? He fancies you. You couldn’t seem to shake the phrase from your head no matter how hard you tried -- it was that outrageous and that hilarious.

There was no way that George Weasley fancied you -- for one, the two of you could not be more different. Secondly, if he really did, and he was still busy treating you like he loathed you, then that could mean only one thing: that he had the personality of a five-year-old. Yes, like that of a five-year-old boy chasing and pushing and teasing a five-year-old girl on the playground at primary school. And then, you figured, he was just as immature as he seemed.

“Perhaps you could make it a less.. hostile environment,” your mate told you one afternoon over lunch. “Clear the air a bit.”

“There’s nothing to clear,” you told her gruffly, picking at your sandwich. “He’s a git -- always has been, always will be.”

She began to laugh. “But you don’t really know that, do you? I mean, yeah, sure, he was a right prat during third year, but you’ve bloody hated the guy since then for laughing. Laughing. It’s not like he did it on purpose, you know. It was a mistake.”

You turned toward her in surprise. “A mistake that caused my bloody eyebrow to burn off!”

“And look,” she replied cheerily, “it’s grown back!” You groaned; why was she doing this? Make it a less hostile environment. The only way that could happen is if you and George were miles, if not worlds, apart.

“Maybe try.. having a conversation, yeah? You may have something in common,” she continued on, noisily slurping the rest of her pumpkin juice. “I’m just saying; you don’t have to love the bloke, but you don’t have to hate him, either. Make this atrocious Divination lesson less dreadful for you both by just being civil.” She slung her bag across her shoulder and tapped you on the shoulder. “Have got Charms -- just think about it, okay? See you,”

Civil. You supposed, as you took a very deep sigh and finished off the rest of your drink, that you could attempt to do that. Just then, a very loud bit of raucous laughter echoed across the Great Hall, coming from none other than the Gryffindor table, where George and Fred were no doubt showcasing one of their products for their shop they were so confident they’d be able to open and run. The commotion from the table only seemed to increase, and you took yet another very deep, gruff sigh. Civil. You could try. But Merlin, you’d have to try really very bloody hard.

-- -

When George sat down across from you a few days later, you’d been back and forth between the idea of being courteous and being rude more times than you could count on two hands. And luckily for him, you’d just flopped back to the idea of politeness.

You stuck out a hand and he looked at you quizzically. “Merlin -- have the fumes in here gone to your head or something? We’ve known one another for years.”

Civility, you thought. You stood your ground. “Can we just.. I dunno, start over? This lesson is already terrible enough without us nearly killing one another. I, for one, don’t want to dread this any more than I already do. So what do you say?”

You couldn’t tell right away if the arch of his eyebrows meant he was genuinely considering this or if he was fighting back a very haughty laugh so as not to spark an argument. But then, surprisingly, incredibly, he took his hand in yours and shook it firmly. “Alright then, Y/N,” he said professionally, “I suppose I can do that. But no bashing my methods of study,”

“No burning off my eyebrows,” you retorted.

“No worries there,” he replied, sneaking a small smirk at you as he opened his spellbook, “nothing to blow up in here.”

For the first time in nearly four years, the two of you had made it throughout an entire lesson without yelling at one another. It was both surprising and refreshing. And although you both continued to make small digs at one another, and he certainly continued to test your patience, you realized that maybe your mate was right.

It turns out you did have some things in common, actually.

“Why the bloody hell haven’t you tried out for Quidditch then?”

George was still beaming over your story of how you’d miraculously caught a Snitch at the very young age of seven in your backyard with your siblings. You’re not exactly sure when Quidditch had come up in the conversation, but somehow it did, and the two of you were now packing up to head to your next lessons.

“I dunno,” you replied truthfully, “it was never really my thing. I much rather prefer dueling than playing Quidditch.”

“Word of advice,” he said, shoving his Divination spellbook back into his bag, “never tell your housemates that you’re a Quidditch wizard. They will kill you dead you for not going out for the team.”

Just then, Professor Trelawney came scurrying over to you both -- her eyes wide and hair a tousled mess. “Mr. Weasley!” she cried excitedly, pointing down at the crystal ball, “what have you seen today?”

He looked at the professor, the ball, and then at you, a simple smile on his lips, sort of a half-smirk half-genuine sort of look. “Friendship,” he said simply.

Dumbfounded, Professor Trelawney began nodding fervently to herself and mumbling things neither of you could understand -- utter nonsense, really, and moved onto the next pair of students before they could leave. You folded your arms across your chest and raised an eyebrow. “Friendship, hm?”

George shrugged and placed his hands inside his pockets before starting toward the door. “And to think,” he said, “all you had to do was not loathe me so much.”

“It’s harder than it seems, George.”

“That’s mean,” he teased, bringing a hand to his chest in mock hurt. Then, genuinely, “we’re kind of best mates now, aren’t we?”

You choked back a laugh and held up a finger to him. “Erm, easy there -- wouldn’t go that far.”

He shook his head and began tuttering. “Dear, dear Y/N.. rubbish at both Divination and at lying.”

You threw a cushion from one of the chairs straight at his head before you both headed off in your respective directions. Best mates. Merlin. It was one lesson you’d both sort of gotten along in. He certainly was exaggerating a bit, wasn’t he? Even so, you couldn’t help the very small grin that spread itself across your face as you walked merrily toward Defense Against the Dark Arts.

--

You were having a particularly rough day.

You’d started the day off by waking up behind schedule, rushing through breakfast, and running in late to your morning lesson. You’d managed to completely bungle whatever nonsense Snape was having you concoct in Potions, losing a generous amount of points from your house. You’d slipped down the steps and given yourself a nasty bruise on your arm, and you were pretty sure that you were getting a cold -- and right before the winter holidays, at that.

So when you sluggishly made your way into Divination and George immediately began to tease you, you were not having it.

“Uh ohhhh,” he said in a sing-song sort of voice, “someone having a bad day?”

You knew he probably meant it as a joke and nothing more, but you were too pissed off to care. Was it the glassiness in your eyes? Your red nose? Your disheveled hair, or the fact that you’d hardly found the energy to straighten your tie? You growled, “I am not in the mood, George.”

“Blimey, alright, I was just --”

“I know what you were doing,” you scowled after a sneeze, “and I’d really just like to get through this lesson in one piece, if you don’t mind.” He put up his hands in surrender and sealed his lips shut. You sighed. “I’m sorry, I’m just not feeling the greatest today -- d’you mind if we just focus on the work?”

Today you were focusing your studies on palmistry. Not your favorite. It was an incredibly long, mundane lesson.

Later on, George asked you, “D’you want me to ask Trelawney if we can finish up early since you’re feeling ill?”

“Please.”

You closed your eyes for the few seconds George was gone; when he returned, he sat back down in his seat with a rather confused look etched on his face. “She, erm, told me no can do. I’ll just have to really.. ‘cleans my aura’ after this.” He used air quotes and actually had to hold back a bit of laughter. “It’s fine, I reckon. I’ll read yours. You don’t have to do mine.”

You reached out across the table as far as you could; your entire body was hurting. You didn’t want to be sneezing and achey during the Christmas holidays! You were busy pouting when George took your hand in his and began examining closely. You found yourself feeling surprised by a few things -- one, the tender touch of his fingers grazing your palm; two, how soft his skin felt against yours; three, the way your breath had hitched in your throat at the mere contact.

The feeling of his pointer finger tracing over your life and head lines on your palm sent shivers down your spine; perhaps it was an oncoming fever? You weren’t sure, and you didn’t know if the fogginess clouding your brain was the head cold or Trelawney’s classroom or the sheer intensity of the moment between you and this redhead. Somehow, though, when George looked up and locked eyes with you, you had this strange feeling that he was feeling the same things you were. Pure shock. Pure surprise.

“So, erm,” you began, clearing your throat and stretching as far away from him as you could, “what’s it say then? What’s going to happen?”

George hummed appreciatively and looked back down at your hand once more before letting go. “Some type of.. chemical reaction. In our Potions lesson. Bubbling cauldrons, and all that.”

What? Were the fumes getting to him too? He never looked so serious in all his life! Maybe he needed a trip to the hospital wing to uncloud his own head --

“Sorry? George, what’re you on about? We don’t take Potions together.”

“Oh, you’re right,” he replied, shaking his head a bit and forcing down a smile. And then, much to your surprise (and delight, perhaps?) he said something you were pretty sure you dreamt up: “--reaction must be between us, then.”

If his knee hadn’t been touching yours under the table, or you hadn’t felt the stuffiness of your head cold take you over, you would’ve been sure that it had all been a dream, or perhaps the haziness of the classroom making you hallucinate. But no. He’d said it. He’d said it quite seriously, with his signature smirk and hand through the hair right afterward.

The bell rang, startling you, and he stood up slowly and slung his bag across his shoulder. You fumbled with your books, both exhausted from your oncoming illness and dumbfounded by his comment. “Mum swears by green tea,”

“Oh, erm, sorry?”

George laughed. “Green tea. My mum says it always helps during the colder months. Pretty sure they’ve got some in the kitchens.” He started toward the door, but waited for you. You both parted ways near the Great Hall. “Rest up, alright? Don’t need my partner missing out on the very exciting, albeit outdated art of palm reading.”

You laughed a bit. “I’ll be sure to, George.”

“And remember,” he pointed at you, “lots of green tea. A Molly Weasley recommendation.”

You couldn’t help the gentle smile that tugged at your lips. “Tell her thanks for me.”

-- -

Two days later and you were feeling as good as new. George had been right -- a few cups of green tea everyday, and it seemed to have cleared your sinuses right up. His mum was a right genius.

There were only two more days of classes before everyone was going to pack up and leave for the holidays. Although you’d be back after the new year, it still felt odd going home; you missed Hogwarts so desperately whilst being home. Something about the castle, illuminated by dazzling decorations and lights and ornaments -- it was rather stunning, actually, and always left you yearning for more.

You were busy scribbling down the very last bit of your Charms essay in the library when you heard your name. Oh no! How long had you been there, working away? You groaned and quickly wrote your name on the top of the parchment and bolted from the back of the library. Then you stopped in your tracks as goosebumps rose on your skin, and you listened:

“Do me a favour, Weasley, and just admit that your brother is mad for her.”

It was your mate. What was she doing, here in the library? Wasn’t she supposed to be in Herbology? You quickly skidded your way into one of the empty aisles, listening intently to the conversation unfolding just a few feet away from you in the aisle next to yours. And then came the unmistakable sound of Fred Weasley’s very dry sarcasm:

“Who? George? My twin? Mad for your friend? No, there’s no way.”

You could almost hear the smile that split his face. Your breath caught in your throat, and you struggled terribly to stifle a cough. What were they on about? There was no way, just absolutely no way that he really did fancy you. You thought your mates had been joking a few weeks back; you’d taken them up on their suggestion to be polite, but that was merely it. Friends? Maybe. A couple? Bloody hell, absolutely not.

“Could you be bloody serious for one moment?”

“I reckon I do not have a serious bone in my body, I’m afraid.”

Ignoring this, your friend continued. “How long?”

“Hmm,” Fred began. You imagined that he was probably looking toward the sky, as if searching for his thoughts so he could pull them directly out of thin air. “Well, let’s see. Pretty sure the day Y/N screamed bloody murder at him in Potions, he’d fallen very quickly in love, even though he never admitted it to anyone. I’ve known it, though, because the poor bloke wears his heart on his sleeve. So about four years, yeah.”

“And he just couldn’t quit the merciless teasing, could he?”

“It’s like you don’t know us at all.”

You couldn’t listen anymore. You quickly shuffled your way out of the library and all the way to your common room until you were safely in your dormitory and could yell into the void. Why on bloody earth would he have been acting so rude if he actually fancied you, even if he had been trying to keep his feelings a secret? But then his comment from the other day flooded your mind, and you soon found, as you mulled them over, that a lot of his comments toward you could be taken in a flirtatious manner if you hadn’t been so obsessed with hating him so much. Perhaps, looking back, he’d been basing his repartee off of your desire to make your distaste of him very well known.

What would have happened if you’d taken that misfortune in Potions in stride? Would you two have been alright? Acquaintances? Friends? Maybe even..

You felt a small jab in your stomach.

It’s as if the conversation you’d overheard had made you do a complete one eighty. Four months ago, the idea of spending any of your time with George Weasley nearly sent you into a tizzy. You absolutely abhorred the idea. The sight of him alone made your blood boil, and any and all interaction with him would have made you miserable to the point of constant sulking. But now?

It was sort of hard to get the guy out of your head.

You found yourself constantly replaying all of your interactions with him over the years back each night before bed. Of course, there hadn’t been too many, seeing as you’d done your absolute very best to avoid him at all costs. But the ones that had happened.. perhaps there was something other than disdain in his voice. Maybe you’d just chosen to hear it as disdain, because you didn’t want to admit to yourself what was actually true.

You didn’t know what happened between that time he’d first read your palm and what you’d overheard in the library, but something had changed.

Lots had changed.

His words echoed in your ears.

Maybe there was some type of chemical reaction going on.

-- -

When you walked into Divination the next morning, you weren’t very surprised to see George already sitting there. He’d started coming to lessons earlier and earlier, to the point where he was getting there before you. It was refreshing, actually. You’d always thought he didn’t really care about work; he’d proved you wrong, though, and you were glad.

You both fell into your routine quite easily, ignoring the very theatrical talks coming from Trelawney as she made her way around the room to observe each of you through her her very large spectacles. You felt a bit of a pull at your heart that this would be your very last lesson together before the holidays -- you relished and also sort of dreaded the idea of being very far away from this foggy mess of a classroom for a few weeks time.

“You’re awfully quiet today. Feeling better?”

George’s voice took you by surprise, because you’d both been working rather diligently on the finishing touches of your essays. You cleared your throat and stunned yourself at how softly your voice sounded in your own ears. “Yes, yeah of course. That tea worked wonders actually -- your mum’s a genius.”

George laughed softly but didn’t look up from his parchment. “Yeah, she’s a wonder, she is.”

“Has to be,” you replied, tracing over the letters of your name, “with seven kids and all. Has to be on top of things.”

“I reckon you’re right.” He finished whatever he was writing and looked up at you with a smile, and when you skittishly glanced back down toward your parchment, he asked, “are you sure you’re alright?”

“Mhmm,” you replied, biting down on your lip. Your feet were thumping rhythmically against the floor. And then the words were said before you could register just exactly what you were doing: “Heard something about you.”

A small smile tugged at his lips. “Whatever it is, I swear I didn’t do it.” Then he paused, thought for a moment, and opened his mouth to speak again. “Alright..maybe I’ve done it.”

A small chuckle settled in the air between you both when he finally looked up from his parchment and locked his gaze with yours. “Sorry. What did you hear?”

You considered making something up, for now you were panicking, and you hated feeling panicked: but then again, you were in pretty deep already, and what did you have to lose? “It was from your brother, actually. Fred.”

“Oh, Merlin.”

“Yeah, said something interesting,” you continued on, focusing your eyesight solely on the parchment in front of you. You resumed tracing the letters of your name over and over, just to give yourself an excuse to not look at him as your cheeks surely flooded pink. “Said you actually haven’t loathed me this entire time?” It came out as more of a question.

“Really?”

“Actually, if my memory serves me correctly..” you dragged out every single word, still unsure if you were going to go for it. And then you did. “I’m pretty sure he actually used the word.. fancy.”

You half expected George to throw up his arms in a fit, exclaiming that Fred didn’t know what the bloody hell he was on about, and of course he’d actually disliked you this entire time. You also half expected him to burst out and cackle himself silly, because the sheer idea of a guy like him fancying a girl like you just tickled him. But instead, he licked his lips and peered at you with a type of compassion in his eyes you’d never seen before. Then he wiggled his eyebrows and offered, “He’s smarter than I thought. And to think.. I’d never even told him how I truly felt.”

Okay, surely you’d dreamt that. But nope; nope, he’d said it, yet again, causing the butterflies to dance animatedly around your stomach. You opened your mouth to speak as he smiled softly at you, but then Trelawney came bouncing over, completely interrupting the moment. “Oh, my dears! Friendship was on your horizon, you say; now, look into the beyond and tell one another what lies ahead!”

She bounced quickly over to the next group, and you took to looking inside the crystal ball; but any type of focus you’d had before had flown out the window now -- there was no way you were going to be able to properly function, because as it turns out, your very worst enemy had actually liked you this entire bloody time.

George leant in closer so that he, too, was hovering over the crystal ball, your foreheads almost touching. You could feel his breath on your neck. His voice was low and cool, “What’s the future say now, love?”

“Friendship,” you somehow spit out, your throat and mouth suddenly as dry as the Sahara desert. “Maybe more, actually.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,”

And then the sound of glass shattering against the hardwood floor across the room startled you both, causing you to pull away from one another and catch your breath.

Moment over.

-- -

The Great Hall was bustling with students chatting animatedly and loads of luggage carts and parcels of presents. You’d just finished your final lesson before the holidays (Charms -- ending on a high note!) and you were very relieved to be on a break from your studies for a few weeks time and to be heading home.

The Great Hall was filled with people, but not the familiar one you were looking for.

Perhaps the conversation you were hoping to have could wait until after the holidays; although you didn’t know if you’d make it through three weeks of wondering what and if without spontaneously combusting.

You tugged your luggage out into the corridor to board one of the carriages to the train when you spotted him standing with his siblings, surrounded by luggage carts and huddled up in his Gryffindor robes and scarf.

Before you could find the courage to walk on over to him to wish him a happy Christmas, it seemed as though he was able to read your mind, for he excused himself from his siblings and made his way over to you, causing you to back up a few inches and press yourself directly into the wall.

You both hadn’t had a chance to chat since your lesson yesterday, since you’d found out the truth, since you’d ran out due to your nerves and George’s cheeky grin.

“So, erm -- sorry I ran out yesterday. Was a bit.. flustered, is all.”

You could’ve said anything else, but these were the words that chose to escape your lips. Bloody hell. You internally scolded yourself, but the expression George’s face didn’t change.

“Flustered?” he asked, confusion crinkling the edges of his eyes. “About what?”

“George, come on.”

“No, please,” he placed his hand on his chest, “You’re going to have to remind me. Yesterday’s events are all a blur, I’m afraid.”

He smirked, and you suddenly felt your blood begin to boil again. He was going to make you say it, of course he was.

“You know,” you started through gritted teeth, “our little conversation in Divination yesterday afternoon. About your... feelings.”

He nodded dramatically and clicked his tongue. “Right. That conversation. You know, it’s funny,” he began, placing his hands inside his pockets and moving closer to you, “I really dislike crystal gazing. I find the more accurate readings come from palmistry.”

“Oh, really?”

“Yeah,” he replied flatly, as if it were obvious. He took out his hand and placed in front of you. “Look here. I reckon you’ll be able to read the future quite clearly.”

You took his hand in yours, and immediately felt as thought you were out of your element. Yet, you began to trace the lines gently with your forefinger. You weren’t reading any bloody future; you were merely trying not to let the very steady pounding of your heart be so evident in the rising tension between you both. You found yourself, actually, pulling ever so gently on his hand, as if to bring him closer to you. You could easily reach out and trace the outline of freckles on his nose.

“See anything intriguing?” he breathed.

Something about being around him made you feel simultaneously more nervous than you ever had been and more confident; you were feeling so self-assured that you actually said something before you could overthink it. “Yeah, actually, looks here like you’re about to kiss me,” you said breathlessly.

How odd, you thought, that just mere months ago the man in front of you was none other than your absolute mortal enemy, and now all you wanted to do was spend the holidays locked away with him in a broom cupboard.

A cheeky grin split his face and he moved another inch or so closer; just centimeters to go, and his lips would be fully pressed to yours, the chemical reaction bubbling over perfectly. “Is that so?” he asked quietly, very slowly moving his way forward. He lifted your chin with his hand so your face was angled up toward his, and he stopped just as his lips so very softly brushed yours. It didn’t even seem real, honestly. Just then, one of the Weasleys shouted to George that their older brother was here to fetch them, and he you felt his smile brighten ever so lightly against you. Damnit! And instead of finishing what he’d started, he merely ran a finger across your chin, down your neck and over your collarbone and whispered, “Happy Christmas, love,” before pulling away.

What in the bloody fuc--! Was he kidding? Not only had the reaction bubbled over, but you now felt like exploding at how much of a prat he was being. He’d already made you say such silly things, and now he really had the audacity to almost kiss you and then pull away?

“You’ve got to be joking,” you said under your breath as he squeezed your hand. “You’re going to kill me.”

He wiggled his eyebrows seductively. “Have got to leave you wanting more, don’t I?”

You scoffed loudly and took a very deep, very overdue breath to regain your composure, but not before he leaned in and caught you off guard by pressing his lips to yours and gently melting into you. A slight sigh escaped you, and before you could register just what it felt like to have his lips on yours, you both broke apart -- he winked merrily at your wide eyes and made his way back toward his siblings. “You still going to be a right prat in three weeks time?” you teased, folding your arms across your chest as he tugged a beanie over his head.

“Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, love,” he said as if it were obvious, “you still going to let me read your palms and drive you mad?”

You grinned a bit more and shook your head, tugging your own scarf around your neck as he was pulled by his siblings out of the castle. You breathed deeply, brought your fingers to your lips where his had just been, and said to nobody in particular, “Oh, there’s no doubt in my mind, Weasley.”

[marjansmarwani]

would’ve loved you for a lifetime

Tarlos || 7.6k || ao3

Prompt: Characters are secretly married and one of them is hurt at work 

-----

The story of how TK and Carlos came together, and how they almost missed out on their future before it even got a chance to start.

For the wonderful @acejuddryder on her birthday! I hope you enjoy this AC and that you have a day as good as you deserve 💕

I came across this prompt a while ago and @bellakitse encouraged me to write it and I am so glad she did! I have been wanting to do a non-linear narrative for a while, and this worked perfectly for that. Shoutouts to both @officereyes and @firefighterstrand for helping me with bits and editing for me, you’re champs 🥰

--------

Judd watched as TK went about repacking the first aid kit with a smile on his face, humming to himself. This had been going on for the majority of their 24-hour shift now and in hour 23, Judd’s patience was finally up. 

“Okay kid, what gives? You’ve been grinning like the butcher’s dog all shift.” 

TK glanced up from his work, startled, “I have not.” 

“Yeah, you have dude,” Marjan informed him as she tossed him more supplies, “want to fill us in?” 

“It’s not just today either,” Paul noted, coming around from the other side of the engine, “you’ve been suspiciously chipper for a few days now.” 

“Can’t a guy just be happy without getting the third degree? Jeez.” 

“There’s happy, and then there’s this.” 

“You too Mateo, really? I thought you had my back, man.” 

“Don’t guilt-trip the probie,” Paul admonished, throwing his polishing rag at TK for emphasis, “just tell us what’s up.” 

TK was saved the trouble of dodging the question by the sound of his phone ringing in his pocket. 

“Saved by the bell,” he declared as he fished it out of his pocket and stepped to the back of the rig for some semblance of privacy. 

“Don’t count on it lasting,” Judd called after him, “we’re getting right back into this as soon as you are done.” 

The others returned to their tasks, eager to finish with the end of their shift in sight. Their focus was soon broken by the sound of a gasp and a clattering sound from where TK stood. They all looked over to see TK, standing on the other side of the engine bay, expression stricken and body trembling. 

“TK?” Paul asked hesitantly but got no response. Not even an indication that their teammate had heard him. They crossed over as a group but Judd got there first and reached down to grab the abandoned phone. The call was still going. He watched as Marjan approached TK, comforting hands reaching for his and Paul reminded him to breathe in his even, calming voice as he lifted the abandoned phone to his ear.

“Hello?” 

“Mr. Strand?” 

“No, this is his friend. He seems to be...a little out of sorts right now.” 

The voice on the other end sighed, “that’s understandable. Would you please just inform him that his husband should be heading into surgery shortly and that he should check in upon his arrival so that the doctor can give him an update?” 

Husband? Judd was so stuck on that word he almost missed the rest of the sentence. He managed to unfreeze his brain long enough to answer, “Of course, I’ll make sure he gets there. What hospital?” 

“St. David’s.” 

“Thank you.” 

Judd hung up the phone and stared at it for a moment. He felt the eyes of the team on him but he took a steadying breath before he looked up. When he did he ignored the curious gazes of the others and looked directly at TK, “they said I should tell you that your husband should be heading into surgery shortly, and that you should check-in when you get there so a doctor can update you.” 

TK nodded, but said nothing else. No explanation, no objection that they were wrong; that he didn’t have a husband. 

Because as far as Judd had known as of a few minutes ago, he didn’t. 

“I need to go,” TK finally said and his voice was so pained it almost hurt to hear, “I need to get there.” 

“I hate to break it to you man,” Paul said gently, “but you are in no shape to drive right now.” 

“I’ll take him.” 

The words were out of his mouth before he had even fully processed them. But when the eyes of the team fell to him, he repeated them: “I’ll take him. Clear it with Cap?” 

The others nodded and he hoped they had picked up on what was left unsaid: tell Owen that he apparently has a son-in-law he doesn’t know about; tell the Captain that TK is a wreck but that Judd had him. 

“There’s only a bit of shift left, we should be able to hold down the fort. Go, and keep us updated.” 

Judd nodded at Paul and the others before reaching out a hand to put on TK’s shoulder, “C’mon kid, let’s go.” 

His voice and guiding hand were gentle, and TK barely nodded before allowing himself to be led out of the station and to Judd’s truck. He climbed into the passenger seat silently and didn’t utter a word for the whole drive. All Judd could do was shoot him concerned glances and try to push back all the unanswered questions in his mind. Now was not the time for answers —his one and only concern was making sure TK was okay. The rest could come later. 

----------

They started on a Tuesday. 

As things went it wasn’t a particularly notable day for a beginning, but there wasn’t much notable about their start. 

They were two people colliding; contrasting desires meeting in the in between, in the common ground. They wanted different ends but the means suited them both just fine. It was hot and heavy; it was rough and quick. It was needy and physical and everything they wanted (if only for a moment). 

Then eventually, it was more. 

Not at first —it wasn’t more for a long time. For months it was just blowing off steam, just mind blowing sex. There were a few dates of varying success, but they continued their dance around each other and the feelings they both had. Then TK got shot and they both watched their potential future teetering on the edge, ready to topple over with the weight of uncertainty. Eventually TK woke up to the chaos of adjusting to life again and a solar storm, and in the quiet that followed the chaos they found themselves in each other. 

From there it was simple: after the start they had it couldn’t be anything but. In all that time they had gotten to know each without really meaning to and now they found themselves fitting together like a pair of gloves; fine on their own, but infinitely better together. They slipped into rhythms like they did embraces, and they were happy. 

They dedicated time to getting to know what they were without an audience and without really realizing it, they had become a secret. A badly kept one, but a secret none-the-less. They existed in the peripherals, their life together a separate entity from their lives as seen by the rest of the world. 

From the outskirts they became TK and Carlos and as time went on, there was less and less space between their bodies, their names, and their hearts. 

And with each passing Tuesday, they grew closer. 

---------

Judd kept stealing glances at TK. 

They were in the waiting room of the hospital, and TK had spent every moment since they sat down anxiously bouncing his leg while he fiddled with the necklace he always wore. 

“Hey, it’s gonna be okay.” 

“You don’t know that Judd.”

His voice was strained and quiet, so unlike the TK Judd was used to. He followed his gaze to the door the nurse had informed them the doctor would be coming through to give TK an update. That was nearly 10 minutes ago and TK’s eyes hadn’t left the door once. 

Judd had so many questions but wasn’t sure how to broach the topic. How do you ask your friend about a spouse you didn’t know they had when they are full of fear of losing them? 

He was saved the trouble of trying when TK spoke beside him, “I know what you’re thinking, just go ahead and ask.” 

His voice was resigned and Judd felt bad for even thinking about the question, but he did need to know. 

“You have a husband. Is it...someone we know?” 

TK pulled his glance away from the door long enough to glance at Judd. After a moment, he nodded: “Carlos.” 

“How long?” 

“Not long.” 

“Are you…” he began, but trailed off. He wasn’t sure what to ask. He had been leaning towards “happy,” but that seemed wrong in this context.  He didn’t know what the right thing to say was;  he had no idea how to approach this situation. He wished Grace was here. She was so much better at this kind of stuff.

They were quiet again until TK spoke, “I love him Judd.” 

The admission was made quietly, TK’s voice low and sad. Judd turned to look at him and TK met his eyes as he continued, “I need him in my life. I don’t know what I’d do without him. I can’t lose him, Judd.” 

Judd swallowed as he studied TK’s expression. It was full of a familiar fear; one that he had felt anytime he thought about the mere idea of losing Grace. He reached out a hand and gave TK’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. He knew better to promise that it would be alright — they had no way of knowing that. Instead he settled on a truth he knew. 

“You’ll get through this,” he told TK firmly, “and you won’t be alone.” 

--------

Time passed and they began to learn the mysteries of each other past the physical. Before TK knew just the spot to kiss to make Carlos moan each and every time, now he could tell you the name of his childhood dog and that when he was 5, he had wanted to be an astronaut. 

Carlos still knew all the ways to make TK melt under his touch but now he also knew how TK had pushed himself in the fire academy so he could feel worthy of the legacy of being the legendary Owen Strand’s son. Their secrets emerged from the shadows into open hearts, more and more revealing themselves with each passing day.

Stolen hours became endless evenings and frantic hookups became languid movie nights. Time passed and they began to feel at home with each other. Soon it became normal for TK to show up at Carlos’s home at the end of his shift as it slowly became more of a home to him. But, then again, the person who lived there was starting to feel an awful lot like home too. 

Their connection was generally known; they weren’t trying to sneak around. But while seeing them dancing at the bar or grabbing lunch at a food truck became more and more commonplace, the depth of their relationship was still a secret from most —including them, for a time. Michelle likely knew, Paul surely suspected; but the fact that they were falling more and more in love each passing day was a surprise to even them. 

It was TK who said it first; in a casual moment without a second thought. Carlos nearly tripped over his own feet when he heard it, but it had been like a dam breaking and soon it became commonplace, almost like breathing for them both. 

Time went on and their love grew. Time went on and they grew together —learning each other's edges and finding out where they fit. They were a puzzle, slowly coming together until the right piece was found. From there, it was a quick solve before the final picture revealed itself. 

And what a picture it was, Carlos thought to himself as he lay in his bed, watching TK sleeping soundly beside him. There were times he had to stop himself from reaching out to touch him, to make sure he was real. Sleep didn’t come easily to the other man and once it was found it was easily lost, so Carlos refrained, allowing his gaze to do the work for him. After everything he could scarcely believe they were here, after everything he couldn’t believe that they had found each other.  

These were his favorite nights, he decided. The ones where he got to fall asleep to the sight of TK beside him, the nights he was lulled to sleep by the sound of his breathing. He knew he wanted more nights like this — really, he wanted every night to be like this. 

But it was too soon for that, so for now he would savor the nights they had.

[continue reading on ao3]

[mot-the-ships-barber]

Posting an OC because why the hell not

Introducing the fabulous, the untrustworthy, the morally dubious, Lieutenant Etius, Assistant Intelligence Officer of the U.S.S O’Neill! (Shoutout to @fuckyeahromulans who’s art I found on Google images, I think it fits perfectly). I made him for a Discord server so the other characters that are mentioned are other players

He’s a Romulan, young at the age of 34, and serving on a Federation starship? Why? The Borg. His story takes place after the Dominion War where he’s seen two separate attacks by the Borg where they almost completely destroyed the Federation. He believed that the Romulan government should have put a more active role in helping stop the Borg, knowing that once Earth fell, Romulus was probably next. The government was fine with just letting it be, letting their two enemies weaken each other and not risk their soldiers lives. After all, they’ve lost valuable manpower in the Dominion War, why sacrifice more when everyone else needs to rebuild. As a low ranking Tal Shiar officer, Etius had access to traced communications that revealed the commission of a new set of Saber-class ships, their mission being the first line of defense against any invasion. With the ships being specified to work well against the Borg, Etius decided to leave Romulus and join the Federation to keep invaders at bay. After all, if the Alpha Quadrant is safe, the Beta Quadrant would be as well.

Upon entering Federation Space, Etius got a thorough interrogation by Intelligence operatives, before getting assigned to the U.S.S O’Neill as the Assistant Chief Intelligence Officer, being given the honorary rank of Lieutenant, although officially he would be outranked by even a first year cadet. Much to his dismay, his superior officer is a Vulcan by the name of Akron. Neither one is a fan of each other, but they’ve grown to tolerate the other. Other faces are Captain Hammond, a by the book Human captain, Commander Danvers, a former Borg drone who returned to humanity and joined Starfleet, very much an unstable loose cannon, Lieutenant Styre, the Vulcan chief medical officer, Lieutenant Atohi, the human chief tactical officer who Etius thinks is a yes man and is completely under his thumb (he isn’t), and Clayde Wilson, an undercover Section 31 agent sent to monitor threats to the rather unstable ship, including Etius

Etius likes to spend his time diving into the culture of other species. In his mind, the only way you can truly understand another is to experience life the way they do, and how can you keep tabs on someone if you don’t understand them? He can often be seen in the ship’s Five Forward bar reading Federation novels, eating their food, and talking extensively with the other crew members. Part of his reason is defensive, he knows that the ship is a powder keg with its clashing commanding officers and chaotic mission and wants to have trusty allies that he understands in case things go to hell, while the other part is just for the sake of increasing his intelligence and understanding.

As a member of the crew, Etius is always the first to come up with a shifty scheme to get the ship out of trouble, no doubt violating some kind of treaty in the process, whether it be cloaking the ship with multispectral emitters to appear like a Ferengi trader or violating the Romulan Neutral Zone. When the pressure is on, the Romulan tends to get nervous, and when he’s nervous he talks. A lot. He also likes to brew Romulan ale as a hobby, the crew conveniently forgets the rather illegal nature of the beverage when enjoying his craft. The fact that it’s illegal is actually a boon for Etius, nobody is able to criticize him on the quality of it, who else knows what Romulan ale is supposed to taste like? Romantically, Etius’s life is completely stagnant, and he doesn’t really have friends as much as he has mutual tolerance, but there’s always room for something to blossom the more time away from home Etius spends.

I have no idea if this is too long and if I’m rambling but I had a lot of fun making this, this is my first Star Trek OC and he’s very fun to use in RP settings. I have another in the works, a very extroverted Changeling science officer who was part of the 100 but avoided fighting in the Dominion War and feels guilt about it. If people like this I’ll write something for them as well.

[poisonedapples]

Domestic Life (Was Never Quite My Style)

Summary: Even with a baby Patton who refuses to go to sleep, Roman finds himself having the loveliest night with his family.

Warnings: The song “Dear Theodosia” and one “blink and you’ll miss it” mention of parental abandonment. It’s mostly adorable fluff

Pairings: Romantic Logince, parental Royality and Logicality

Word Count: 2,522

Taglist: @noodles-07 @didyouseerichohisawrich @look-ma-im-on-tv @somehow-i-got-an-account @depressed-stressed-virgil @queen-of-all-things-snuggly @ohlookanotherdumbfanboy @jamie-writes-things @adoratato @boopypasta @omgsomeonesomewhereonearth @beyondthestacks @changeling-ash @hold-our-destiny

Notes: Happy anniversary to the best boyfriend in all the land, @romansleftshoulderpad, who has been there through everything good, weird and awful. You’re amazing, and even though my Writing Machine broke and had me change my present idea four times, hopefully you’ll appreciate some fluff nonetheless.

(Also shoutout as always to my friend Cornybird on Ao3 for editing my stuff I owe you like five squishmallows)

Roman and Logan were always the couple that no one could have possibly guessed. Roman was wild and untamed; always aiming for the best of the best, striving to conquer the impossible and prove everyone who doubted him wrong.

There always seemed to be so little time for him. He wanted to write, sing, dance, act, create, and he refused to let trivial things get in the way of that. Even as a hopeless romantic who dreamed of marriage, it seemed like his running on pure adrenaline made it impossible for him to make friends, let alone a husband.

Logan wasn’t much better. He wasn’t very invested in the arts and had (arguably) more achievable goals, but he still couldn’t stand to not be the top of his class. He wanted to be idolized. He wanted a kid who felt as helpless as he once did to look at him and get hope for the future. He wanted respect, and he was determined to gain it.

But that led to him overworking himself. Logan had a habit of working late into the night to put efficiency over self care, to drop everything that could get in his way and absorb himself in his own goals. Yet just like Roman, self isolation led to loneliness, and his personal expectations made him deem himself unworthy of a partner and family, no matter how untrue that was.

On the outside, they looked like people who were too busy and in their heads to enjoy the little things. Logan passed up warm showers and movie nights to get his ideas out on paper, and Roman passed up coffee shops and strolls through the park to create bigger and better things. But for the longest time, on the inside they were lonely. And only one person could see that enough to break through.

No one expected them to get to this point. The point where they’d been happily together for four years, Logan’s engagement ring carefully placed in the same box that Roman had given it to him in on the bedside table. But it was real anyway, and Logan was fast asleep, while Roman’s brain was thinking about too many fantasy worlds for him to calm down enough to doze off. Instead, he ran his fingers through his fiancé’s hair and watched him sleep peacefully on his chest.

Roman could have spent his entire life in that position. Just him and Logan, his adorable love looking peaceful and happy as Roman protected him from the world. If he wouldn’t be risking waking him up, Roman would also be peppering kisses all over his face, but he took a mental note to do that in the morning instead. They were going on a date tomorrow after all, and those always ended in lots of kisses and cheesy flirts Logan would roll his eyes at. But Roman thought his faux annoyance was adorable, so he used pickup lines at least three times a week.

But that was tomorrow, and tonight was tonight. And nights were a child’s favorite time to break the peace.

Roman could hear babbling from the room across from them, as well as from the baby monitor next to the bed. Patton was already squealing “dada” a little bit, and Roman knew from experience that he was getting ready to cry for them. It broke his heart every time Patton cried, so he gently pushed Logan to the bed and kissed his hair. He didn’t squirm, so Roman shimmied off the bed and smiled at Logan one last time as the baby talk got a little louder. He knew the drill by now, so Roman grabbed his guitar before he left and went to Patton’s bedroom. Music was the fastest way to get the little guy back to sleep.

Roman opened the colorful door to his son’s nursery. Only a pale blue nightlight gave light to the room, revealing a crib with a babbling baby holding onto the rails. Patton still couldn’t walk, but he was getting pretty good at standing in place, so the day would come at any time now. 

Roman gave his baby a tired smile. “Hello, sunshine. What are you doing awake? Princes need their beauty sleep!”

“Dada, dada, dada!” Patton babbled, jumping as much as his tiny legs could using the spring of the crib’s mattress. Roman didn’t bother going to the crib and picking him up, though. He learned a long time ago that a rocking chair doesn’t make Patton tired anymore; he only squeals with excitement like it’s a baby rollercoaster. Roman experimented one night and played Wonderwall on his guitar as a joke when Patton refused to calm down, but it was the fastest the little guy had ever been lulled to sleep. Since then, Roman immediately picks up his guitar and lets Patton relax to that instead.

“What’s the request tonight, little buddy?” Roman asked as he sat in the rocking chair and strummed some of the strings. “Frère Jacques? Hey Soul Sister? Or do you want a song Dada really likes?”

“Dada!” Patton squealed.

“A Dada song? Excellent choice!” Roman leaned back in the chair and thought about what he may want to play. Logically he knew Patton only said dada because it was the only word he knew, but Roman liked to pretend his baby was the smartest boy in the entire world, even if his farts still scared him and he slapped his hands on every new surface he found. If he grew up to be anything like Logan, then Roman knew that he would have a bright future. “Now...what would I maybe want to play…”

Patton let go of the railing and let himself fall on his butt back to the mattress. He crawled over to his favorite stuffed frog and held onto the fur tightly, which Roman thought was objectively the cutest thing in this world. Though then again, everything Patton did was adorable. He was at the perfect age to steal the heart of everyone, and call Roman a lovestruck dad all you wanted, but his baby just blew his breath away.

“Hey, little froggy, how about we bring back an old favorite? Especially since me and Papa have been watching the Hamilfilm a whole lot!” Patton giggled in response, so Roman nodded his head. “Alright then, let’s see here…”

Roman placed his fingers on the neck of the guitar and strummed the first cord, testing out the tune. When he was satisfied, Roman strummed out the beginning notes of the song, and already Patton began to seem mesmerized by it.

“Dear Theodosia what to say to you? You have my eyes, you have your mother’s name. When you came into the world you cried and it broke my heart…” Patton shoved one of the eyes of his stuffed frog into his mouth, listening intently. When Patton was first born, all Roman did was sing this song to him. It seemed to fit so well given their situation. Logan always went on about how Patton had Roman’s eyes, even though Roman expected Logan to mention that it was obvious Patton would have some of his traits. He was half Roman after all, and Logan was hardly one for sentimentals anyway. But then again, becoming a dad had made him a lot softer than Roman could ever imagine.

“I’m dedicating every day to you, domestic life was never quite my style, when you smile…” Roman looked over at his baby. He had a little smile on his face, but Roman also guessed that was just the permanent position Patton’s face was in. He seemed like a happy baby almost all the time, give or take a few sick days and the time Patton saw a spider for the first time. “...You knock me out, I fall apart, and I thought I was so smart.”

Roman didn’t know if he was smart or not. His fiancé said that intelligence is more than book smarts and street smarts, and Roman had his strengths just like he had his flaws. But insecurity was a wild thing, and though Roman put on his best facade of greatness, he was only human, and humans have a strange perspective on self worth. Though no matter how intelligent he was, Roman had long accepted that Patton could break down any tough walls he or Logan put up. After all, it had been quite the sight to see Logan sob from happiness at holding his baby for the first time.

“You will come of age with our young nation...we’ll bleed and fight for you. We’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

Roman strummed out the notes in between lyrics for longer than he had to, but it was okay when his audience was a baby who didn’t actually know the song. “Ready for one more part, buddy?” Patton didn’t respond (obviously), he only looked up at Roman with big eyes. “Good! I know it’s your favorite part.”

“I have to admit that it is mine as well.”

Roman’s strumming stopped in its tracks when he heard the familiar voice. He looked across the room to the door where his adorable fiancé stood, his hair messy and Roman’s stolen pajama shirt making him look considerably tinier. If Roman wasn’t so tired, he’d scoop Logan up and swing him around the room for being so adorable. “What are you doing awake, love?”

“I can hear you singing from the baby monitor that’s a few feet away from my face.” Roman’s cheeks flushed red, but Logan didn’t care. He walked over to Roman at the rocking chair and wrapped his arms around his shoulders, giving a kiss to the top of Roman’s head. “Did a certain little froggy decide to have a party past his bedtime?”

“He woke up, yeah. I’m trying to put him back to sleep.”

“Did you check his diaper?”

Roman blinked. “...I did not.”

Logan sighed, but he shook his head fondly at his forgetful fiancé. Roman always went to the more complicated solutions before thinking about the basics, but at least he was trying. If Patton had started to cry, Roman would have eventually realized to check those things anyway.

Logan picked up Patton from his crib and took a sniff of his diaper. He smelled clean, which was good, but putting a baby to sleep who simply didn’t want to rest was harder than having something specific to fix. Logan kept Patton in his arms as Roman strummed on his guitar again with a smile.

“I still have to finish my song, Logan. Care to join the late night party with us?”

Logan smiled. “It’s Alexander’s part, correct?”

“Don’t act like you don’t already know. You love this musical as much as I do.”

“Fair point. How about you sing to us, then?”

“Could you do me the honor of singing alongside me?” Roman asked.

Logan felt his face heat up. “...We’ll see.”

Roman didn’t push it anymore. He knew Logan didn’t like his singing voice, even if it was objectively the best thing Roman could ever possibly hear. But when Logan got some time to ease into the idea, he would eventually slide into it.

Roman started strumming again, and the song picked up once more. It was just that with Logan around, the energy of the room felt all the more alive. “Oh, Phillip you outshine the morning sun. My son. Look at my son!”

Patton smacked both his hands on Logan’s shoulder. Logan couldn’t help but laugh.

“Pride is not the word I’m looking for. There is so much more inside me now…”

Logan began to sing, and Roman almost stopped in his tracks with awe. “Oh, Phillip, you outshine the morning sun. My son.”

Patton looked up at his dad with the most adorable baby smile. At the sound of both his parents and his favorite guitar, Patton began kicking and bouncing in Logan’s arms. The song was meant to calm him down enough to sleep, but instead the little guy decided it was the perfect time of day of a dance party. The worst part was that neither Roman or Logan had the heart to argue with him.

Instead, they both began to sing together as Patton bounced and smacked his hands. “When you smile, I fall apart. And I thought I was so smart.”

The music changed a little bit, and Roman and Logan both knew what came next. It was a part that hit them both close to home, but they’d practiced that section way too many times to not be prepared. Roman took the part of Alexander first. “My father wasn’t around…”

Logan held a dancing Patton tighter. “My father wasn’t around.”

“I swear that I’ll be around for you. I’ll do whatever it takes…”

“I’ll make a million mistakes…”

Roman stood up from the rocking chair and strummed louder as he stood beside Logan. Both him and their son smiled as the two came back together for the song. “I’ll make the world safe and sound for you...will come of age with our young nation.”

Roman laid his head on Logan’s shoulder and Patton was merciful enough to stop slapping and put all his energy into bouncing up and down instead of smacking Roman in the face. “We’ll bleed and fight for you, we’ll make it right for you. If we lay a strong enough foundation...we’ll pass it onto you. We’ll give the world to you, and you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday...yeah, you’ll blow us all away. Someday, someday…”

The two parents held the last note as Roman strummed out the ending of the song. When Roman finished with that final strum, Patton still danced until the note had become too quiet to hear. Once he stopped his bouncing, Roman set his guitar down on the floor long enough to grab Patton’s hands and make him clap. “Yay, bravo, bravo! A wonderful musician and his beautiful dancer!”

Patton squealed nonsense in response as Logan moved to steal Roman’s place at the rocking chair, being careful not to rock it in case it only riled Patton up even more. “I don’t think he’s been calmed down by your song, Roman.”

“Well…” Roman grabbed his guitar again and sat on the floor in front of the rocking chair. “That just means we have to let him dance out the energy, right? Then tomorrow, we’re absolutely recording him dancing to this. I would do it now if I wasn’t tired.”

Logan chuckled. “I will try to remind you.”

“But until then…” Roman placed his fingers back on the strings and strummed the first note. “Care for another round, my love?”

The smile Logan gave off mixed with the happiness of their baby was an image Roman swore to cherish forever. “Of course, my prince.”

When Roman began to strum, their precious baby boy started to dance once more.

[yonymii]

secret garden

a/n: shoutout to my chamaedorea plant, Debrah 🤩 (also @gigis-galaxy for telling me to write for mattsun) his characterisation is wierd but whatever,, this took wayy too long to write sjkdjkdjks i think i change tenses at the end?? I liked it tho so i kept it

Wordcount: 4.4k

pairing: matsukawa issei x gn!reader

Warnings: cursing

Matsukawa didn’t notice you the first time he saw you. Of course, he’d seen you sat leaning against the wall scribbling notes onto your hand, but he hadn’t really noticed you, not enough to be able to describe your appearance. Like every other year, he’d just sat near his friends and started talking, completely missing your voice reverberating off of the plain white classroom walls, your laugh never reaching his ears. Your friends were always sat in front of you, blocking you from his field of vision, so it was no surprise when you two had been partnered up for a history project he’d had to ask who on earth y/n l/n was.

You hadn’t noticed him either, though. Matsukawa was one of those kids who joked around in class, throwing paper balls at their friends and drawing bad pictures of the teacher on scrap pieces of paper but was too discreet to ever get caught. You’d heard his voice but never bothered to turn around and learn whose it was, never scanned the classroom to take in and memorise the faces of your classmates. In your opinion, they were irrelevant unless you needed them for something. 

Unfortunately, you needed Mattsun for this grade.

You waited for him to approach you, not moving from your seat, occasionally glancing over to see whether he was coming to sit beside you (on the table your friend had begrudgingly moved from). After what felt like hours, there was shuffling in that spot and you heard the chair legs scrape across the wood flooring, then a figure slump into the plastic seat. He looked over to you but you were already sending texts to your friends on the other side of the classroom, trying not to laugh so you wouldn’t be caught by the teacher. He thought you were quite attractive; not like Oikawa, though. Like you were unaware of your appearance, as if you didn’t spend too much time staring in the mirror worrying about how you look to others. 

It was silly, really. That he was thinking so deeply into it when all you two had to do was study together and then produce a poster on World War One. It wasn’t difficult, except everytime you started speaking he felt obliged to look over at your face, your expressions. Mattsun desperately needed to focus, and you weren’t helping.

“Are you free to work on this over the weekend or do you want me to finish it?” he heard you ask as he was packing his bag on the Friday before your project was due. You two had mainly worked on it during his free lunches, seeing as all your clubs were on afterschool and not at lunch break. He turned to see you stood at the doorway of your empty classroom, tapping the end of your foot on the floorboards. He nodded, zipping up his backpack and meandering over to where you stood. “Yeah, you have my number, right? Text me your address and i’ll come over at twelve tomorrow,” he started walking off but looked over his shoulder at you, “If it’s okay with you, that is?”

You just agreed politely, joining your friends on the field at the back of campus. You could hear them talking, but you weren’t listening. You had your phone out but it was hidden under your blazer in case any teachers walked past and saw you; as you sent your address to Mattsun you couldn’t help but worry about the state of your room.

Not that it was messy. In fact, it was abnormally clean for a teenager. It was just… full. You had no idea how to tell your partner that you had no desks to work on because they were all occupied by your various houseplants your grandmother gave you? You sure as hell weren’t moving them just so that he could work. 

Your room was a long rectangle, your bed positioned carefully so it fitted perfectly into the thin space by the window (which was occupied by a long pot of forget-me-nots), and you had two desks; one that was for plants all along and the other was now home to plants but was previously used for studying. You did most of your work sat in bed with a tray for stability nowadays.

“Hey y/n! The bell’s gone, we’ll see you Monday, m’kay?” your friend said as they tapped your shoulder and headed off. You just nodded, tucking your device into the inside pocket of your blazer and packing up your things ready for your next english class. 

-

There were crescent moons of dirt underneath your fingernails and when you put the trowel down to sit back and bathe underneath the late afternoon sun you felt a presence behind you, their shadow above yours. 

"Y/n?"

You pulled one of your airpods out, turning to gaze up at them. They were stood directly in the way of the sun, the skin on their arms illuminated with gold. You hummed in response, shifting onto your backside and exposing your mud and grass-stained knees. They chuckled and bent down to meet you; you shielded your eyes from the brightness of the sky.

"You're partnered with Mattsun for the history project, right?" Iwaizumi asked, his head tilting to the side. You nodded, fingertips digging into the soil beside you. There were a few younger students kneeling to weed the flowerbeds and vegetable patches beside yours, but they were silent. Iwaizumi lowered his voice, noticing the alck of noise in the area. There were crickets chirping quietly and the heat seared your skin. You wiped your forehead with the back of your wrist.

"Yeah, why?" your cousin smiled, standing back up as he noticed your eagerness to get back to work. 

"He's skipping practice some lunches and won't tell anyone what he's doing. It's driving Shittykawa mad." you laughed at the nickname but still smacked his leg. "Don't call your best friend names, Hajime! And yeah. It'll be done by the weekend so don't worry, m'kay?"

The brunette nodded, turning away from you and starting to leave, waving lazily at you while still turned. You shouted goodbye as he walked off, spinning round to face the bed of flowers and positioning yourself onto your knees comfortably.

-

Your doorbell was broken when Matsukawa tried ringing it. He marveled at the vast number of window boxes filled with vibrant flowers (which he couldn't name), knocking three times on the wooden door. It was mid afternoon, the sun was hidden behind a few clouds and when you opened the door and invited him inside there were no lights on, only open curtains and white walls and carpets to brighten the rooms.

"Where are we going?" he asked when you led him to the back door and opened it, ushering him outside. It was a large green lawn, surrounded by tall bushes and beds of flowers. There was a small allotment behind a wooden fence and grey brick wall and he saw a tall wooden structure supporting a plethora of different vegetables, along with all different shades of sweet pea blossoms. In short, your garden was something out of a children's story book. 

By the time the pair of you were sat on the blanket underneath an old looking tree, the sun had come out and was lighting the area. There was a stack of textbooks by the roots and you handed him a few which he opened to the bookmarked pages. Mattsun had been the one to keep hold of your poster so he set it down on a tray in the centre of the blanket, along with his stationary.

"What do you want to focus on for the last segment?" you broke the silence with a question which he was quick to respond to.

"Uhm, the causes? Of the war?" you nodded in agreement and opened a textbook. Mattsun cleared his throat and spoke again.

"Whose garden is this? I mean, uhh, who like, takes care of it?" 

You had to hold back a laugh at his nervous tone, suppressing your grin when you explained that it was, in fact, your garden, and you lived mostly alone. 

He just nodded, avoiding any eye contact.

"It was my grandmother's but i look after it now." Mattsun nodded again, ruling a line along the bottom of your poster to mark off the last section. "It's really nice," he said, looking up at you. You slipped your shoes off, tucking your feet under your legs and meeting his eyes.

"You must enjoy it." 

A smile adorned your lips and you hummed in agreement, outlining the title of your poster (causes of World War One) and explaining your hobby to your partner. Honestly, you knew he probably didn't care, but he would listen, even if it wasn't particularly interesting to him.

"When i was younger i lived with my grandparents and sometimes my dad. He's away on business most of the time though. My grandmother used to bring me out and tell me about all of the plants, and after a while let me grow a few myself. When she passed i took over the garden," you giggled as soom is the sun appeared from behind the clouds and lit up your face, " It looks the same as it always did though. I haven't changed it much."

Although you'd assumed Matsukawa wasn't listening, he hadn't transferred any of your notes onto the large sheet of paper. He was laying on his back staring up at the sky through the leaves of the large oak tree and there were little dots of sunlight decorating his skin and hair. His eyelashes were fluttering against his cheeks; he was stunning in a way you'd never noticed before. You probably wouldn't have been able to see him this way if you'd have only been with him at school, volleyball practice or at games. It was different, but not in a bad way. You didn't know Matsukawa Issei, but you wanted to.

Clearing your throat to gain his attention (which you had anyway), and looked over at him once again, only to see his eyes on you, cheeks flushed a little as he gazed at your face under the shade of the tree. "We should really get this done, Matsukawa. It's been an hour and a half already."

He agreed, sitting up and resting his soft cheek on the palm of his hand, picking up a pen and copying out your notes in neat while you cut out pictures to accompany the writing.

-

Three sharp knocks at your front door woke you up from the light nap you’d been taking on the sofa laying next to your dad who’d come home for the weekend. You watched sleepily as he stood up to answer whoever it was, expecting a delivery or the friendly postman who was also your neighbor.

It was Matsukawa.

“Y/n!- Oh, uhm, hello, sir.” he said, looking down at his shoes and fiddling with his fingers. After the project you’d turned in the pair of you had become good friends and you now often sat with the volleyball team at lunches, visiting them after school during practice and going to watch practice matches. You’d done this every once in a while because of Iwaizumi but it had become significantly more frequent over the last few months.

“Why do you need y/n?” your dad asked Issei, crossing his arms protectively and leaning all his weight onto one leg. The boy who’d come over to see you just smiled up at him as you peeked out from behind the doorway and waved, pushing your dad to the side gently to allow him over the threshold and towards the door leading to your garden.

“He’s a friend, dad. I told you why i got all that food ready this morning, right?” The sun was setting on the horizon as you took Mattsun’s bag and ran up the stairs to your room, putting it by your desk and running back down to meet your friend on the lawn.

He sat on the tyre swing that hung on the oak tree, his legs threaded through the hole as he swung gently in the evening breeze. “You didn’t tell him i was coming over?” Mattzun said, resting his chin on the rubber. 

“I did! I just didn’t give him any specifics is all.” You collapsed onto the blanket that was spread out over the green blades, your head on a large grey pillow. There was a basket by your feet full of cakes and drinks, and you had a speaker resting in the hollow of the tree trunk. The stars were starting to appear in the sky and the moon was hanging low in the orange glow near the rooftops, their silhouette bold against the slowly darkening backdrop. It was beautiful, and with the silence between you two you didn’t notice Mattsun crawling towards you to lay down on your stomach, a can of cola held loosely between both of his hands. He tapped his short nails against it as he looked up at the sky, his delicately carved face illuminated in the fiery sunset.

"You ok, Mattsun? You're being quiet, it's scaring me," you said, looking down at him as he breathed gently, chest rising and falling slowly as his lungs filled with air. You felt him nod against your stomach, hair sticking slightly to the fabric of your shirt. When he sat up to look at you, it was sticking out in weird directions; he looked like someone from a movie who'd been electrocuted. A giggle escaped your lips and he brushed a hand over the back of his locks, smoothing it down effectively. 

He hummed when you pressed one fingertip to the tip of his nose and then the screen of your phone to play some music. Your dad shut off the upstairs and downstairs lights so now it was almost completely dark; the light of the full moon kissed Mattsun’s cheeks and made him glow, your heart stuttered and your breathing becoming laboured and heavy. The boy was laying down on his back on your blanket, chewing a biscuit and sitting up slightly to swallow it before laying down again. The stars blinked at your through the green leaves of the tree, and you leaned forwards to grab your cup that was filled with tea; the warmth radiating from it met your skin and sent a shiver all the way down your spine. You could hear your breathing fall into synchronization with his, your mind clearing and the only thing present in your thoughts was the boy laying beside you.

-

“Y/n, you never sit with us anymore. Just this lunch?” you shook your head at your friend (who you had indeed ditched for the Seijoh volleyball club a number of months ago), sighing loudly so that she heard you. 

“Seriously, i don’t want to sit with you today, okay?” she just stared at you, face not showing any emotion, “I’ll sit with you guys when i feel like it. That isn’t right now.” and you ignored her pleads as you walked to the stairs where Makki was standing, one foot against the wall and his hands shoved into the pockets of his blazer. His bag was leaning against the surface and one of his shoes was sticking out of the side because the bag as too full. When he saw you he picked it up, slinging it over his shoulder and not speaking, just wandering lazily up the staircase and towards the rooftop where you assumed the rest of the third-year volleyball players would be.

The door was open; there were voices coming through the opening and you heard Mattsun’s laugh, your ears singling out the sound and blocking away everything else. 

Your bag dropped to the ground next to Iwaizumi, sitting on the concrete and letting the wind brush across the bare skin of your arms, blazer discarded on your chair a few minutes away in your classroom. It was a nice day; the sun was overhead, your friend group situated in the shadow of the building. The sky was blue and there were fluffy white clouds floating past, but you payed no attention to them, instead choosing to listen to the conversation the third-years were currently having.

“So you’re skipping detention and sitting with us? For what?” Oikawa said, gazing at Mattsun lazily, the sun almost in his eyes but not quite. He shuffled to the left a bit so he could sit completely in the shade. “Won’t you just get afterschool tomorrow, Mattsun?” 

The boy nodded, fluffy hair bouncing atop his head. His lips were set in a straight line and he opened his mouth to speak, bored expression sticking to his features almost comically, as if he were a doll that only had one emotion. You knew his face never reflected his feelings though.

“Yeah,” he gave no further explanation, just ripped a bit of bread from his lunch and pushed it past his lips into his mouth, chewing slowly and looking over to you. You smiled gently, taking a sip of the chocolate milk you’d picked up from the vending machine that morning but hadn’t had a chance to drink. “Why are you staring at me?” was what you decided to say to Issei after a few minutes, your eyes still locked with his. The corners of his mouth twitched up into a smirk and you sighed, cheeks puffing out. 

“You’re so irritating sometimes, Mattsun. I swear Hajime’s the only responsible one here,” you looked over to your cousin, nudging his knee with yours and adding with a coy smile, “And me, of course.”

The brunette shook his head but didn’t bother to speak. “Y/n, you bring plants to school everyday.” Makki deadpanned, nodding his head towards your schoolbag. . You instinctively pulled it closer by one of the straps, crossing your legs so it was in between your thighs. “Not today, Makki. I didn’t bring anything but my work and lunch.”

Oikawa laughed, seemingly flying over to you and snatching up your bag. When he set it down there was a quiet clink, indicating there was, in fact, something inside. “Y/n seriously, you act as if they’re animals. Just leave them on your windowsill or something.” Makki stated as the captain unzipped your bag. You looked down in defeat when he pulled out a small terracotta plantpot with a tiny succulent in the middle. A burro’s tail, Mattsun thought. He recalled you showing him one when he was at yours after practice once.

The group snickered at the plant and you snatched it away, patting the soil to see if it was in need of water and pulling out your waterbottle to give it a bit. It clinked again when you set it down and Mattsun pulled your face up by the chin to see your expression just as you were about to give the plant a drink. You were pouting, he saw, and your eyebrows furrowed when he laughed at you, his lips curved into a beautiful smile as his voice escaped them.

That’s when you realised just how close his face was to yours. The volleyball team had gone quiet and were all watching you two but you didn’t think Issei had heard you, his forefinger hooked under your chin while his thumb brushed over the top. There was a lot more heat in your cheeks than before, you noticed and you’d dropped your bottle, spilling it over the pale concrete and staining it the colour of slate. Your ears picked up a snort from one of the boys and you tried to wiggle away from Mattsun’s grasp, shaking your head but he gripped your cheeks, squeezing them gently. “Stay there.” he ordered, voice low so the other’s probably couldn’t hear.

Issei leaned in closer, but to your surprise, his lips moved past your face and stopped at your ear, a snicker escaping. “You’re a dumbass, y/n.” was all he said but it surprised you and you yelped from the volume, your head banging against the wall. Your vision clouded and went dark, and when you woke up and raised your hand to the back of your head there was warm liquid over it. You didn’t know if it was blood or the water you’d spilt earlier, but when you saw all four of the third years crouched over you, you assumed it was blood. Iwaizumi pulled you up by your back and leant you against the wall, tapping your nose like he used to when you were kids. 

“Mattsun, you fucking idiot! Shit like that can kill people!” you heard Makki’s voice and then saw Issei’s face above yours, worry filling his eyes. “Fuck, y/n, i didn’t mean to do that, i was trying to joke around,” he whispered, hand on your cheek. Oikawa pulled you up and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, his own slung across your back in case you were dizzy. He turned his head to face his teammates, “I’m taking them to the nurse’s office. Go to class without me,” the brunette informed them and when you stepped through the threshold of the office and collapsed onto the bed, Oikawa setting your bag down on the chair (along with your plant) the bell had rung and you saw the others pass by the office, glancing at you, Haijime waving as he passed. 

You didn’t see Mattsun.

-

It wasn’t until the next weekend you saw Issei again. You were sat on the swing under the shade of the oak tree, swaying gently to the beat of some soft piano music after watering the dying rose bush when your dad called you out of the garden. 

It took a few moments for you to recognise the boy sat on your sofa. Mattsun was holding a yellow plantpot in his hands delicately, tapping it with the edge of his too-long fingernails. He didn’t look at you when you sat down beside him but his cheeks puffed out and he set the pot down on your coffee table, your dad watching quietly from the kitchen with a cup of tea cradled in his hands. 

“I didn’t mean to hurt you. I’m sorry.” was the only thing your friend said, after a long but comfortable silence. You nodded, hand on his thigh, “I know. I’m not mad though! Are you free now? We could go sit in the garden if you wanted to,” your voice grew quiet when the brunette looked up at you. He nodded, hair bouncing as he stood up and reached out a hand to help you up. You laced your fingers with his, smiling gratefully as he led you outside. You heard the kettle boiling and mugs clinking as your dad made two drinks for the pair of you.

-

It was still warm in your garden when you finished your picnic. The sun had started setting and the horizon was growing amber, the silhouettes of birds on telephone lines. The skin on your arms was golden from the light and Mattsun was laying next to you, his eyes closed so that his long eyelashes fluttered gently against his cheeks, long shadows extending across his skin.

Your fingers were tangled in his hair and you didn’t want to move them in case he woke up. Really, you had nothing to worry about. Issei wasn’t asleep, but you didn’t need to know that. The breeze fanned over your bare legs and the hairs stood on end. Maybe it was getting a little cold.

Issei opened his eyes when you shifted to move one of your blankets across your legs. He sat up and pulled it over his, shuffling closer to you. His lips were curved up into a delicate arc, tinted red from biting them constantly. His cheeks were flushed pink and his eyes were gazing over at your figure lazily, hooded and tired. You reached over to your bottle, opening it with a fizz. A little of the drink got onto your nose and Mattsun patted it away with the corner of his sleeve, his smile dropped and biting his lip in concentration. 

“Mattsun?” he hummed, placing his hand over yours as you fiddled with the leaves of a hydrangea bush. “You look like you want to say something. What’s up?” your voice was very quiet, but he heard it just fine. The boy shook his head, curls ruffling against your shoulder. 

“It’s nothing.” 

You furrowed your brows but didn’t push any further, knowing that he’d deny it and eventually just leave if you kept asking. The hand that was resting on top of yours moved to your calf that was slung languidly across his thighs, his thumb rubbing circles into your warm skin. It was quiet, without any bird chirping in the background. You heard a car go past your garden; then silence.

His eyes shone when he looked over at you, and you didn’t know if it was the light from the house or if he was really just that beautiful, but it took the air out of your lungs all the same. The usual lazy smile danced on his lips and he pulled your head down and pressed the smile to your cheek, the feeling of his lips on your skin leaving a burning sensation; it felt good. The heat rose onto your face and it felt as if your whole body was on fire, all the way from the tips of your fingers to the top of your nose. 

He was already looking away, though. 

For Mattsun, this was enough; he didn’t know why his heart was pouding so hard it felt like his ribcage was going to crack open or why his eyes were trying to look anywhere but at you. And as much as he was scared, he liked it this way. If not telling you what he thought was happening to him meant that you could stay with him like this, he’d do it. He’d do anything.

The only thing stopping him was the feeling of your hand on his cheek and something heavy crawling into his lap; not until your lips met did he notice it was you who was so close to him. He saw the moon out of the corner of his eye, and the stars around it but nothing at that moment shone as brightly as you did. It was almost blinding, you were almost blinding.

Mattsun had never been very good with his words but he didn’t need them with you. You thought the look in his eyes when you both pulled away was enough to explain what he was thinking.

uhhh @reiningsun​ 👉👈 mayhaps?? KJBDKW im so embarrassed

[whats-rambled-rambled]

Smoke&Mirrors - playlist

You can find it on Spotify here.

Let’s start from the beginning:

Imagine Dragons - Smoke and Mirrors

Okay, so with Stuck in reverse series everything started with one song that inspired me to write something, and you know what happened later.

With this new series, the idea came first (prompted by @vaneilla​’s wonderful brain, and you know what? I actually went back to check that bit of convo, and it was all because @gallifreyan-uprising​ did what she did to TP, so I guess thank you both, ladies!), and then I was looking for THE song, that could serve as an inspiration and as a title.

And because all my best ideas come to me while driving, and I had Imagine Dragons in my car’s CD player… BOOM.

//I'm starting to cave

I'm losing my flame

I wanted your truth

But I wanted the pain

To disappear

Dream maker, life taker

Open up my mind

All I believe

Is it a dream

That comes crashing down on me?

All that I hope

Is it just smoke and mirrors?

I want to believe

But all that I know

Is it just smoke and mirrors?//

This just felt so fitting for Reader and her struggle a little later in the series, and smoke and mirrors alone seemed like just what I needed to capture the essence of the main conflict between Neil and R.

Chapter 1: Imagine Dragons - Natural

I had the title, I knew what I wanted to do in the first chapter, but I still had doubts if I could switch to this new dynamic. -Neil being mean? I mean how even-- I needed a good playlist to get myself in the right mood to set the tone for the whole series, and even when I found a few songs that were good enough, I knew that none of them was the one. And then again, on my way to work, this time from my Spotify playlist - Natural. I literally started screaming when I realized that it was exactly what I’d been looking for. Not only because of its badass vibe, but those lyrics, holy shit -

//That's the price you pay

Leave behind your heart and cast away

Just another product of today

Rather be the hunter than the prey

And you're standing on the edge face up

'Cause you're a natural

A beating heart of stone

You gotta be so cold

To make it in this world

Yeah, you're a natural

Living your life cutthroat

You gotta be so cold

Yeah, you're a natural//

This is R.  “A beating heart of stone / You gotta be so cold / To make it in this world”. Because she might be all spiky and angry on the outside, but why is she that way? Because she has to. Because nothing ever came easy in her life.

And this is Neil, too. A true natural, as TP calls him. But he also plays a role, because he was put in a position he didn’t want. And not only by TP, but also by R. That scene in the bar? He really hopes to clear the air between them, but she is not ready to listen, and keeps antagonizing him. *sigh* We know how it ends up. Anyway -

bonus: Willyecho - Welcome to the fire

Found this one when I was looking for the vibe, and then those lyrics--:

//I'm focused

I've been watching for the omens

I've been listening to everything you've said

Its been running through my head

Locked and loaded

I've got the feeling that you've noticed

Yeah I've only just begun

I won't stop until it's done

'Til you're broken

So welcome to the fire

I'm the one who lit the night up//

-- because yes, R’s that mad at him, TP, the whole world at this point, really.

Chapter 2: Florence + the Machine - What kind of man

So you know, one of the challenges I’d set for myself for this series was to finally write a proper smut. God, was I stressed out (shoutout to my lovely friends who had to listen to my self-doubting whines for quite some time). And as I knew it was supposed to happen in this chapter, and I already had an appropriate build-up in mind, I needed a song. And it wasn’t this one, although it made its way to the chapter’s playlist. But as I actually wrote the whole thing down… I felt it had that vibe.

//You were on the other side, like always

You could never make you mine//

Oh R, my sweet summer child.

//To let me dangle at a cruel angle

Oh, my feet don't touch the floor

Sometimes you're half in and then you're half out

But you never close the door

What kind of man loves like this?//

And that part is just so fitting with the whole confusion.

bonus: Graffiti Ghosts - Last man standing

The one behind the shooting range sequence:

//Your trigger finger better think about your future

You’re getting twisted thinking I don’t want to shoot ya

I’ve been waiting for a long time

and I’m coming back to get what’s mine

Sick of living with your little double faces

I’m getting itchy and so livid I can taste it

I’ve been waiting for a long time

and I’m swinging til I get what’s mine

but I’m not going down

I’m not going down//

Can’t say that R isn’t fantasizing about shooting Neil at some point, it’s all I’m saying. And the vibe was all right, and worked for the sparring scene as well.

bonus:  Zayde Wolf - New Blood

I needed decent background music to write that sparring scene, you know - to hype myself up. And then found this song. Look at the lyrics:

//I spent my whole life chained to the wall

Hunger for more, not afraid to fall

Had to cut a man down to get where I am

But someone had to tumble, and someone had to stand

Don't try to fight, nothin' you can do

I'm gonna run all over you

It's too late to try, there's nothin' you can do

I'm gonna run all over you//

and

//Most of my life was heavy and hard, yeah

So many days, so many scars

But it was all of those years who make who I am, yeah

But I broke through, and here I stand, yeah//

Added to the playlist instantly. You can see it too, right?

bonus: Nothing But Thieves - Itch

I love this band and I’m eternally grateful that my dear friend @connie-nikas​ itroduced me to their music. Spotify suggested that it fit the mood for the playlist I already had for that part, so I checked the lyrics and YES:

//There's a hunger in my heart

It's full of promise, promise

There's an itch under my skin

It's under my skin, under my skin//

...

//There's a blood red on my shirt

And it's shining, shining

There's a sharp pain from my face

I kinda like it, I like it//

...

//I just wanna love

I just wanna touch

I just wanna see

'Cause I, I just wanna feel something real

'Cause I, I just wanna feel something real

Wanna feel something//

It fits more than one moment in the series, but that blood part seemed accurate for sparring, so it stayed in this chapter.

bonus: Dorothy - Wicked ones

Another Spotify suggestion, and it works pretty well for these dumbasses, although this part:

//This night ain't for the faint of heart

For the faint of heart, for the faint of heart

This night ain't for the faint of heart

'Cause the faint of heart gonna fall apart//

--this got me going while I was having heart palpitations as I was getting closer to the locker scene lol.

And then:

//Ain't no sleep when the wicked play

All we do is get laid, uuh uh uuh uuh

Ain't no love when the wicked run

All we do is try to lay off, lay off, lay off

We're the wicked ones, wicked ones//

Fits, right?

bonus: Muse - Undisclosed desires

I -blame- have to thank M for this one, and it was my initial title song for this part. Just see for yourselves:

//I know you've suffered

But I don't want you to hide

It's cold and loveless

I won't let you be denied

Soothing, I'll make you feel pure

Trust me, you can be sure

I want to reconcile the violence in your heart

I want to recognize your beauty's not just a mask

I want to exorcise the demons from your past

I want to satisfy the undisclosed desires in your heart

You trick your lovers

That you're wicked and divine

You may be a sinner

But your innocence is mine

Please me, show me how it's done

Tease me, you are the one//

It just -- it’s not only about that one scene. Maybe it would be even better for part 3? Anyway, could be sung to R almost word for word, right?

Chapter 3: Nothing But Thieves - You know me too well

One of my favourites from this band, and I knew it had to be a title of some part of the story. Because:

//I gave you a call

Baby, I could come by, help forget it all

'Cause in this sticky weather, oh, it's really hard to sleep

As you know all too well

And when we dig together, oh, you make me feel so cheap

But I can't help myself

Filthy impetuous soul

I wanna give it to you

Oh, just to see what you do

'Cause I'm so drunk on you

Baby, you're all that I want

I want you all to myself

Oh, but you know me too well//

So yeah, filthy impetuous soul was only fair to use for that bathroom, right?

//And maybe you're right

We don't get on so well, when we lose the high//

That’s them at this point, all right.

//'Cause every love story always end in tragedy

If you wait long enough//

Oh hello, R’s beliefs here, clear as night.

//Renew me 'cause sometimes I forget

Got my own two hands clenched around my neck//

Could be said by both of them at this point, tbh.

bonus: Leann Rimes - Can’t fight the moonlight

So let me be frank - I knew I wanted to put that bathroom scene somewhere for quite some time, so it’s written purely for self-indulgence. I just needed to find an opportunity. And during one of the brainstorming sessions with A (because she was so kind to help me out with figuring things out when I stumbled over certain plot points, and I can’t thank her enough), the idea of karaoke night came to life and she gave me this song and fuck yes! That was it!  

One of my favourite Neil headcanons is that he likes cheesy songs, and Coyote Ugly movie has a special place in my heart, so I just knew it was the one for him! Especially because:

//Under the lovers sky

Gonna be with you

And no one's gonna be around

If you think that you won't fall

Well just wait until

'Til the sun goes down//

it’s just perfect if you wanna kinda seduce/kinda embarrass someone, right? And also:

//You can try to resist

Try to hide from my kiss

Don't you know, don't you know

That you, can't fight the moonlight

Deep in the dark, you'll surrender your heart//

Because yes, he wanted to kiss her in that locker room, that’s a thing you do when you’re attracted to someone, right? He thought it was just because of this whole angry sex thing, but was aware of that all the time, that’s why R’s reaction in the bathroom alarms him. I mean it would make him stop anyway, but still.

bonus: Ruelle - Until we go down

The mood progression in this song fried my brain, absolutely amazing!

The lyrics, too:

//And I feel it running through my veins

And I need that fire just to know that I'm awake

Erased, I missed till the break of day

And I need that fire just to know that I'm awake

Until we go down//

bonus: Bishop Briggs - Wild horses

Another song that captures the spirit of what’s going on in R’s head.

//You hold me down in the best way

No quarter from these chains that I've

Slept on my heart for a feeling

Why can't I let my demons out?

Keep screaming into the pillow

Cause your taste still gets me stupid high

Oh glory, I'm a believer

Oh glory, I'm a troubler//

At this point, she’s well aware of the effect Neil has on her, and the internal conflict is strong in this one.

//You call my truth in the worst way

Through the dirty lands of a broken smile

And I swear I'm not a pretender

Sometimes it's love who's the baby's cry

So, I keep on damning the devil

And you keep on saying it's alright

Oh glory, I'm a believer

Oh Lord, I'm holding tight, but//

And the whole vibe of this song, it’s like fuck I’m losing my mind, but I want you and I want you now. Just makes my breath hitch.

bonus: Transviolet - Bloodstream

And as I needed a certain mood, -(ended up actually writing with TENDER in the background because apparently I need a complete opposite mood seeping through my headphones to write any smut at all but anyway...)-, and this song is just...wow.

//Fingertips drip down my spine

Cruel desire, danger in our consequence

You look my way and I lose my…

Hey, you wanna rule the world?

Outlaw love, make you lose control

Hey, hey, boy you got me like whoa

White hot, adrenaline baby

In my veins, you got me praying

Whoa, whoa, whoaaaa

My pretty blue lips begging

Take me, I need you in my bloodstream

Hold me, break me

My breath is for holding, overdose me

I need you in my bloodstream

Hold me, break me, break me//

Hot. I won’t be taking any notes.

Chapter 4: Aimee Mann - Save me

You remember that part 4 was supposed to be the last one? Don’t ask me, I don’t know how I would manage to get that emotional progression from these dumbasses by the end of that part, so I’m glad y’all voted on splitting it into 2 (and then another 2) parts. But I already had a playlist for the finale, and then had to make a new one, and then had too many possible title songs.

Why did this one win? Because in my brain it’s directly connected to my OTP and also fits this part of the story. I battled myself if it was a spoiler or not (and also had trouble getting to terms with R ever admitting that she needs to be saved), but then thought - eh, what the hell, it has the right lyrics and a proper mood, and here it is.

//You look like a perfect fit

For a girl in need of a tourniquet

But can you save me

Come on and save me

If you could save me

From the ranks of the freaks

Who suspect they could never love anyone//

and that shift to this part, oh my heart:

//Except the freaks

Who suspect they could never love anyone

Except the freaks who could never love anyone.//

bonus: Jamie O'Neal - All by myself

Okay, so the car scene was in my mind for a little while, and in the initial outline, aka part 4 is the finale I couldn't find a place for it and thought I might end up making a one shot out of it, so when I actually had enough time to write it into the story, I was so excited!

I was looking for a song, and the first one that came to my mind was Air Supply - All out of love, but I could never beat what Jensen Ackles did in the outtakes of that one Supernatural episode, so I had to abandon that song, sadly. And then I thought about the one with basically the same vibe and *ding ding ding*.  And of course Neil would know it. And would know what movie this is from (just look at him and try telling me he doesn’t like British rom-coms, I dare you). And would tease R about it. (and that’s why I used that cover of this song).

//Hard to be sure

Sometimes I feel so insecure

And loves so distant and obscure

Remains the cure

All by myself

Don't wanna be

All by myself

Anymore//

bonus: Meg Myers - Motel

I’ve discovered Meg’s music just because of Spotify’s recommendations, and oh my god, it’s amazing! And this song just felt right for their talk during the stakeout, just look at the lyrics:

//You're weak, broken in a motel

You blink, tears are falling down, down, down

And you're free, free inside your own hell

You speak, someone let me out, out, out

And I can't stop this pain, it only grows

Tell me why I always feel alone

And I can't fight this feeling anymore

Show me what I'm really living for

I wanna love, wanna live, wanna breath, wanna give

But it's hard and it's dark and we're doomed from the start

I wanna love, wanna live, wanna breathe, wanna give

But it's hard and it's dark and I'm falling apart//

ahh, nothing like a good old angst, am I right? Perfect for writing about the more vulnerable sides of them.

bonus: Fear Of Men - Sane

There is just something in this song that resonates deeply, you know?

//I see you drowning

Half flesh half stone

With ambitions that drain your health

You hear me

(Secrets)

You run from me

You hear me

(You hear me)

I know

You hear me

(Secrets)

You run from me

You hear me

(You hear me)

You know, you know, you know

It’s in your eyes when you’re perfectly sane

It’s in your blood when you can’t bear these heavy thoughts again

It’s in your eyes when you’re perfectly sane

It’s in your blood when you can’t bear these heavy thoughts again//

bonus: Laura Doggett - Beautiful undone

That track almost ended up as the title. When I stumbled upon this song, I was completely blown away, as in I-had-it-on-repeat-for-4h-straight blown away.

//I took you walking

Through the murmurations of my mind//

that line just strikes me right through the heart, and it gets even better later:

//I'm looking down and my heart's connected

I'm feeling love from a different view

We learn the most when we least expect it

We learn the most when we break in two//

I don’t think that any of them expects to learn more about each other during that one mission. I mean sure, Neil counts on it, but doesn’t know what it's gonna be. And if she lets him into his head at all.

//You know you're beautiful undone

(Shine on)

So beautiful undone

You look beautiful undone

(Hearts connected)

My boy of blue.//

My boy of blue. I don’t know why it screamed Neil to me, but it did.

//It's the cracks that let the light shine

It's the cracks that let the light shine through.//

And that’s exactly it.

Chapter 5: LAUREL - Blue blood

Okay, THIS song, as soon as I heard it, I was like - this is it, this is her.

//You woke me up for your blue blood

Made me come undone

Can't believe you've been here the whole time

Too nice to pass you by and I can't believe

You've been here the whole time

You made me feel again

Made me dance circles 'round the pieces of your heart

You made me feel again

After the last time, didn't think that I could love//

That “was he always so gorgeous” moment, right? When she just sees him for the first time this way. And is slowly coming to terms with her feelings.

bonus: Prep School - Come as you are

So this one… We all know the original song (or this is my old ass talking), but only when I heard this cover, I really felt it, you know?

//Come as you are, as you were

As I want you to be

As a friend, as a friend

As an old enemy//

Just made me think about R being ready to get to know Neil better. About the shift in their dynamic.

//When I swear that I don't have a gun

No I don't have a gun//

She lets her guard down, and is ready to trust him.

Also - how great is the mood of this song? That crescendo just takes my breath away, and that calmer moment at the end? Good god. Utter perfection.

bonus: Ray LaMontagne - Such a simple thing

I’ve been sitting on this song for quite some time, and just had to find a suitable moment for it. And this was it.

//Tell me what you're feeling

I can take the pain

Tell me that you mean it

That you won't leave again

Tell me what your heart wants

Such a simple thing

My heart is like paper

Yours is like a flame

I can't make you see

If you don't by now

I'll get through these chains

Some how, some how

Take it if you want it

I'm so tired I just don't care

Can't you see how much you hurt me?

It's like I wasn't there//

My heart just aches while I listen to this song. It’s so tender, and yet so heartbreaking.

bonus: Keane - Hamburg sing

When A sent me this song, god, the way I screamed. Because this is so Neil.

//I don't wanna be adored

Don't wanna be first in line

Or make myself heard

I'd like to bring a little light

To shine a light on your life

To make you feel loved

No, I don't wanna be the only one you know

I want to be the place you call home

I lay myself down to make it so

But you don't want to know

I give much more than I'd ever ask for

Will you see me in the end

Or is it just a waste of time?

Trying to be your friend?

Just shine, shine, shine

Shine a little light

Shine a light on my life

And warm me up again//

At this point in the story, he already fell for her hard. And can just hope that she sees him at one point, too.

You know, writing that first really intimate moment between them-- I know I was supposed to be on R’s side, but I knew what was going on in Neil’s head at that point (that’s why I was so happy when Chels asked that one question that made me write Come as you are) and... I don’t know, I’m so soft for this idiot, I just want to hug him.

//Fool, I wonder if you know yourself at all

You know that it could be so simple//

My dumbasses.

Chapter 6: Phantogram - You’re mine

We’re gonna save this one for the very end, just mentioning it here as we move to the next chapter.

bonus: Adna - Night

You know that sad music montage thing that the movies do after a breakup scene or something? This song has that exact vibe.

//Silence grows and you're all i know

Eyes are closed, I'll see your smile, your love

Thinking

This is what

It could be

Knowing

It is all

It would be

In the night

When you see

What i see

In the night when you feel

What i mean

You're my knight

And my dream

And my only sight

Oh you

Oh you

Stay true//

For me, it’s the beginning of chapter 6. R is almost heartbroken, and that almost comes from the part of her that still thinks that still fights the idea that she might have any feelings for that blonde idiot. Conceal, don't feel, or something. But she’s being haunted by random memories from their time together.

bonus: Snow Patrol - Make this go on forever

This song makes my heart ache and clench and oh my god--

//Please don't let this turn into something it's not

I can only give you everything I've got

I can't be as sorry as you think I should

But I still love you more than anyone else could

All that I keep thinking throughout this whole flight

Is it could take my whole damn life to make this right

This splintered mast I'm holding on won't save me long

Because I know fine well that what I did was wrong//

This works for the sad montage thing I’ve mentioned, but it was all about this line:

//First kiss and the first time that I felt connected to anything//

I was listening to it on my way home one day and my eyes welled up. Because that’s what I wanted both of them to feel right then.

//And I don't know where to look

My words just break and melt

Please just save me from this darkness//

and these lines just brought the image of Neil stumbling over his words and, well, that was it. I knew it had to be done like that.

bonus: Walking On Cars - Speeding Cars

This song is about something different, but there is one part that resonated with the story:

//Even the half smile would have slowed down the time

If I could call you half mine

Maybe this is the safest way to go//

Just fits. Had to be there.

bonus: Etham - Before I lose my mind - Stripped

I think I found this one a while ago, and then it came on when I had Spotify on shuffle, and oh myyyy goooood. That heart-wrenching yearning? So, so on point.

//Look at the state I'm in

I couldn’t say where I've been

Lord knows that it ain't felt like home//

This is as much R’s song, as it is Neil’s.

//I don't know what

I've been running from, running from

Or what I thought I would find

All I know is

You're the only one, only one

I need you tonight

Before I lose my mind//

and this part:

//Don't tell me that I’m too late this time

So much I couldn’t see

With words that I didn't speak

What do I have to do to make you mine?//

This part of the playlist is just utter heartbreak and yearning, but it was only fitting. Just moments before the confession.

bonus: Nick Wilson - Let me hold you

On repeat for the whole part with Neil’s confession. This song is so goddamn beautiful, I can’t--.

//We've been there before

Reaching the end but forgetting the reason we started this for

In all of our flaws

Laid out beneath us, there's no need to keep building up these walls

(Oh we can't go on)

Just let me hold you

I'll run my fingers through your hair

Let our ghost loose

Let me know that you're still there//

bonus: Liz Longley - Rescue my heart

This, on the other hand, started playing right after, and I partially blame it for R’s breakdown. I was just staring at that line about her being afraid to lose him and I was like “where the hell this came from, girl?” and then, as I was trying to push them both further into the plot, but they kinda refused to let each other go, so I was sitting there like “you guys really needed that, huh?”

I know what it sounds like. But when I spend so much time with my characters, really fleshing them out in every possible way, they kinda develop minds of their own, and later they guide me through the dialogue parts, and even sometimes ruin my initial plans. Because they know best how they would behave right then. So all I have to do is just follow them. Or try reasoning with them. (Had a moment like that at the end of the first scene in chapter 6, like had this feeling that R just wanted to dwell on the nature of her relationship with Ives, but I didn’t want to put it there so openly, I was happy with leaving a line here and there, so I had to put my foot down pff - and it switched into that bit about friendships in general)

Right, back to the song:

//Lying to myself I can make it on my own

Making it alone is lonely

Twisting and I'm turning

Oh I'm crashing and I'm burning

So reach out your hand to me

Come down

Rescue my heart I'll drown

Without you//

This is it.

bonus: Madonna - I want you

You know, one of my favourite parts of the writing process is just bumping the ideas around, and I have been blessed to have a wonderful friend such as M, who’s always there when I need to discuss different ideas or just got a bit of dialogue I really want to share. And knowing what I was writing, she sent me this song.

And I’ve been listening to it a lot ever since, and when Neil started his confession, and struggled with words, I wrote: "I want…you.” He moved closer. “The right way.”

I stopped, staring at that line, like really, Neil? This is it? Then the next song from the playlist started playing and:

//I want you the right way

I want you, but I want you to want me too//

So I just sighed and moved on, dropping a short message to M on the way.

bonus: Welshly Arms - Need you tonight

Spotify recommends the best covers, hands down. I love the original song, but this right here? It’s everything.

//How do you feel

I'm lonely

What do you think

Can't take it all

What ya gonna do

Gonna live my life

So slide over here

And give me a moment

Your moves are so raw

I've got to let you know

I've got to let you know

You're one of my kind

I need you tonight

'Cause I'm not sleeping

There's something about you girl

That makes me sweat//

bonus: TENDER - Afternoon

Every song of theirs is just incredibly sensual, so I thought it was only fair to include one of those for the scene (thank you again A, their music is everything, I swear). And this one was particularly accurate:

//I'm spendin' all of my time tryna open up

Let it breathe, let it breathe

It all comes down

To whether you love me anymore

God, I hope you do

'Cause I can't tell, I can't tell

By the look in your eyes//

bonus: Layla - Weightless

Another one for that moment.

//A silver whisper, take flight and steal into my mouth

An urge to kiss you and let this secret pleasure out

Your touch so tender, a helpless roar of golden play

This youthful slender, hallucinate my woes away

We are weightless

We are invincible

Nothin' like this

Flyin' like cannonballs//

bonus: Rob Simonsen - Soft center

While I was discussing the main plot points with A, we knew there had to be a morning after scene, and she had just a song for it. Utter perfection.

end credits: Phantogram - You’re mine

I know I say it a lot, but when A sent it to me… The way I screamed. I couldn’t believe it. The story was already like 2 parts in, I think? And this song...every line was about them. Every. Goddamn. One. And the overall  I just thought to myself “oh, end credits rolling right here.”

//You don't talk to no one

Don't you look at nothing

Focus on me

Look into my eyes

Come a little closer

Let me tell you something

Eat your ego honey

Honey swallow your pride

You don't talk to no one

Don't you look at nothing

Focus on me

Look into my eyes

Come a little closer

Let me tell you something

You ain't going anywhere

'Cause you mine//

And from this part it gets even better:

//I used to be a rifle

Yeah I had my distance,

Whistling like a bullet in the sky//

//I used to be a psycho

Yeah I had my demons,

Crawling like a spider up my spine//

*incoherent screaming*

And the next part took me right back to the very first scene.

//I spotted you the second I walked in the building

I knew that you had let me get you high//

Right? Right???

//I wanna hear the things you say when no-one's listening

But that don't matter anyway...

'Cause you're mine//

And that’s it.

Damn, what a wild ride that was.

Thank you for staying with me until the very end.

[mihidecet]

Sbi&CO d&d AU: Don’t Keep me Waiting (2/?)

I’m back! Chapter two is finally here and, as promised, it’s a bit of a beefy one!! I do hope you’ll like it!

A special shoutout to Cassie and my sister, for basically creating the newly added character, and that anon who totally didn’t guess who was coming a week before I posted the chapter xD

The noise inside the tavern hits them like a tidal wave the instant they open the heavy looking oak doors: a cacophony of people talking, friends cheering, music playing and orders being shouted from one side of the room to the other. 

On one hand, it makes Wilbur flinch and recoil, his ears ringing with the sudden switch from being in the quietness of a mostly desert street to this; the good thing is nobody really pays any particular attention to their group entering. They do of course gather some looks and stares - they're a big group after all, most people here are either in small, four-people groups or even smaller. 

But Techno's trademark pink hair is safely hidden under a hood, in order to allow him to walk around without getting constant stares - respectful, fearful or otherwise. They're here to have fun, not pick fights; at least that is what they had decided on before signing up for the tournament. Except for Tommy: to quote the little demon, they were there to win.

Nevertheless. 

Wilbur is there, at that moment, in that tavern, to play and to share his music with a willing audience. So, while most of the others hurry to grab a big enough table and some extra chairs, Wilbur makes his way towards the innkeeper's desk, tail swinging back and forth, mind already running with ideas on what to play for this specific audience - adventurers are a picky sort, they either like your song or they boo you out of the tavern, and he wants to give a good impression especially with the tournament coming up-

The innkeeper sees him and Phil approaching, his eyes darting to his brand new splendidly hand carved guitar - he will never ever ever be able to repay Tubbo - before he lets out a tired sigh. Which comes crashing down onto Wil's mood like an avalanche, covering instantly all his bright ideas and expectations. 

It's Phil's hand on the small of his back that brings him back into focus, prompting him to regain the sway in his step - no time to mope, they're here for at least another month.

"I don't suppose you have a spot open for tonight?" He asks, putting on his best vendor voice, and he can see the tiredness in the eyes of the person in front of him. 

"I do not. You can have half an hour in two days. Name?" The person asks, voice flat with the face of somebody who's had to repeat this process so many times just tonight. So Wilbur swallows down his protest - half an hour in two days is a horrible deal - and nods amicably. 

"Wilbur, Wilbur Soot." The innkeeper looks to be thinking intensely for a moment - a spark of hope shines in his chest as he hopes for a moment that his name will be recognised, since he's spent the past years building up his fame by working tirelessly -, then they shake their head and write down something that vaguely resembles his name next to some numbers. Wilbur smothers the irrational, embarrassing disappointment that threatens to rise in his throat.

"You have my thanks, good sir!" He adds enthusiastically, voice pitched a bit too higher than normal, because a part of him feels for the poor soul who has to deal with people of all sorts, and swivels on his feet.

Phil's hand on his shoulder brings him out of his own mind as he's definitely not storming away from the poor innkeeper's table. He doesn't even need to say anything: Wil deflates instantly, tense shoulders sagging instantly and a long sigh leaving him as he leans into the elf. 

"I really wanted to play." Wilbur grumbles as Phil's hand moves from one shoulder to the other, effectively bringing him into a half-hug and ruffling his hair with a chuckle. 

"I know, and you're going to." The elf replies, tone calm and reassuring, and Wil can't help but ache a little, feeling like a kid all over again and not liking it even a little bit. Once, he would have stayed quiet and stewed into his own brooding mood, but he knows now that he can rely on the others for situations like these. So he ignores how awkward he feels at protesting for something as silly as this, and lets himself pout. 

"Half an hour is so little, though. And since we're not taking any jobs for a while it could help with paying for the tavern." Phil quietly hums in response and experience tells him that he's pondering over a good answer. Wil's eyes scan the tavern - bigger than he first realised - looking for Tubbo's bee, as he figures it's going to be the easiest thing to recognise in the literal sea of adventures of all kinds.

"You know we don't need it. And I'm sure once they hear how good you are, they'll be asking you to play every night." Phil comments, starting to guide him towards what he thinks is the right direction, but Wil is a bit more preoccupied with preening, slightly flustered, due to the compliment. One would expect him to be used to them, but the thing with his friends is that praises from them always feel a little more true, a little more honest, and they always hit him in the best way possible. 

When they join the rest of the team - clustered around a single medium sized table - Wil's mood has significantly improved. 

There's food already waiting for him and as soon as he sits down a fox jumps in his lap and curls up, snout raised towards him to slowly blink at him before he buries his head in his tail. 

Wilbur starts digging into his meal with gusto, lightly scratching behind Fundy's ear as the shifter decides to take a nap.

The tavern is, overall, a nice place. It's cool to see so many adventurers gathered together, and hearthwarming to be able to see many new friendships blossoming. 

After the team announcements that same morning, there are some people that have found themselves needing to look for strangers basing themselves only on names - or worse, nicknames. 

Wilbur figures that the people that are in the best position to find their teammates are those who have been paired with bards, as there have been half a dozen different people performing ever since they sat down to eat. 

Luckily for him, his own team has no such problems. Tubbo, Niki and Fundy, on the other hand, are still waiting to learn who their fourth is going to be. Since the training grounds will soon be open for team practices, starting from the next morning in fact, they plan on looking for them there. 

Tymora, or Lady Luck, has apparently other plans for them.

It's nearing midnight when a short man with only one eye and a thick Draconic accent walks up the stage for what seems like the hundredth time that night. In his hand, the same piece of paper that has been progressively getting more and more ragged as the evening went on. He unfolds it as he walks up, thanking the tired looking bard that is leaving the stage, and it rips in half - his only reaction is a sigh and a shrug.

He squints, putting together the parchment and pursing his lips as the two ripped halves slowly mold back together, then calls out, somehow magically raising his voice over the sound of the tavern's clients talking and clapping for the leaving bard.

"Next up: Quackity! Come up the stage!"

Fundy's fox claws suddenly dig into Wilbur's legs, making him wince in pain and choke on his sip of mead. A split second later, he's got a lap full of disgruntled mage. 

Tubbo, on the other side of the table, is standing on his chair in order to see the stage over a firbolg's shoulders - holding himself up by using Tommy's head, who is extremely unwilling. 

"A bard?!" Fundy exclaims, prompting Wilbur to move his eyes from the stage towards him with a frown.

"What's wrong with bards?!" He asks, helping him get off of him and into his abandoned chair. Before Fundy can find a way to put his rebuttal into coherent words, Wilbur's eyes snap back toward the stage as people are starting to give a quiet, tentative clap for the newcomer.

The kid looks human, probably about Niki's age, and he sits down a bit awkwardly on the stool he brought with himself before plucking a couple of strings on his guitar. They're sitting quite far from the stage, but Wilbur's trained eye still manages to catch the fact that that is an old and well used one - his heart squeezes just a bit at the thought of his former source pride and joy, the guitar he travelled with ever since he left home.

Wilbur knows, viscerally, of the fear that always precedes a performance, especially in front of a new crowd. Especially in front of adventures, whose tastes are ever changing and easy to sway from the crowd's perspective: adventurers either like you, or they don't, and if they don't you're not gonna have a good time.

And yet. 

After checking his guitar, the kid looks up with a bright smile and a confident expression and starts playing - no buildup, no further introduction, no boisterous announcements of his titles or fame. 

And by the gods does he play. 

He's good, but he's not just technically good: he's an entertainer, plays with his guitar as much as he plays with words and with the crowd - clearly making up verses for his songs to fit what happens around him, bantering with the adventurers that step up to his plays of words. Sometimes he bursts out laughing mid verse and despite that his fingers never stop flying over the cords, his laughter becoming part of the song itself. 

Halfway through, he catches Techno's eyes: the shifter raises an eyebrow and Wil simply nods, so Techno nods back

The tiefling is glad to know that they both think he's good, they had been worried about leaving the three newest additions to their team alone with a random stranger. 

And if the enthusiastic way the rest of the team is clapping for him, they're going to get along more than well.

Half an hour later a flushed and visibility sweaty Quackity makes his way down the stage, followed by a thunderous applause and some occasional claps on the back; one passing adventurer even thrusts a pint of ale into his hands, prompting what looks to be a flustered reaction from the bard as he quickly makes his way out of the tavern. 

Either that or he needed some air, which was completely understandable, especially after such an active performance. 

Wilbur is about to comment on the stellar introduction they just received when the sudden noise of hands slamming onto the table - their table - makes him jump in his skin.

"We have to go and say hi!" Declares Tubbo, still standing on the chair - now with Niki helping him not fall to the ground. 

Tommy nods enthusiastically next to him and even Fundy seems to be about to agree. To be quite honest, Wilbur wants to join in too and is therefore about to stand up when Phil raises his hands to get them to slow down. 

"You're gonna scare him if you all corner him outside. How about his three teammates go, on their best behaviour?" The elf concludes, shooting Fundy a pointed look. 

The shifter gapes, looking extremely insulted, then he starts to protest and finally he sighs with a pout. Ah, the wonders of people arguing with Phil. 

"Alright, no pranks and no scamming. Pinky promise." Fundy huffs out, crossing his arms over his chest and slouching down into his chair. Wilbur does his best to chuckle under his breath, because he's not any better, he's just not the target of the reprimand for this time. 

Then, Phil's stare turns to his left. 

"You too, Tubbo. No scams." He states, prompting Tubbo to almost fall over as he agitatedly protests, spluttering out indignantly.

Exiting into the coldness of the night is almost a shock, especially when compared to the almost too warm air inside the tavern.

The sounds coming from inside are almost completely silenced, and when they close the doors behind them the stillness of the night is all they can hear. Fundy shudders for a moment, his body struggling to adapt to the lack of heat, when his instinctive reaction would normally be to morph back into his fox form. He snaps his fingers together, conjuring a small flame in his hands to keep himself warm, and sees Tubbo moving closer to him before he remembers that ah, right, the kid can't see in the dark. 

Still, it's not hard to find their objective - their future friend, as he's already been dubbed by Tubbo. Quackity is leaning on the outside wall, right next to an illuminated window, pint abandoned on his side as he looks at the night sky, one foot tapping on the ground as if following a silent melody. 

In the beginning, the plan had involved Niki leading the way, so that she could introduce the three of them and they could all make arrangements to meet the next morning at the training fields, so that they could all be friends and hang out and win the tournament. 

Said plan is instantly scrapped the instant Tubbo lets out a small gasp, eyes going wide as he hurries to duck around Niki, swiftly avoiding Fundy’s hand reaching out to grab at his shirt. The young human scrambles to reach the sitting bard, who naturally flinches and stares in confusion at the kid running towards him. 

As Tubbo finally gets close, he stops and points at Quackity’s head.

"Hi! You have a moth on your head." 

Fundy’s groan is so loud, it reaches the two of them even though he is currently a couple of steps behind and hiding his face in his hands. Niki’s high pitched giggles follow suit, and are soon joined by a shocked burst of laughter - loud, bright, just like his music - from the human sitting in front of Tubbo. 

"I- Hi! I do?" Quackity asks, voice tilting upwards as he looks up, as if he could be able to see his own head by rolling his eyes into his skull. 

Tubbo giggles seeing him go cross-eyed, and reaches up to gently take the moth in his hand. The little bug’s wings flutter a little as he is moved, apparently not glad to be disturbed from his perch, but he seems to begrudgingly accept his new spot since Tubbo holds him close to the light coming from the tavern’s window. His wings are very pretty, a light grey with black streaks into them that look like the splatters of ink that cover the pages of Tubbo’s various notebooks - his ever growing collection of plans and schematics for new and old projects. According to Tubbo's admittedly limited experience with moths, this one is smaller than one would expect. Very tiny and friendly - "just like you!" Wilbur would probably say if he were there. 

"Aw, look at him! Isn't he cute?" Tubbo coos at his new friend, prompting a slightly awkward chuckle from Quackity as the man moves just slightly away from the insect.

"I'm not a fan of bugs, but, uh- he does look fancy." Q eyes nervously the other two, but Tubbo ignores it, too taken with his new little pal to take care of trivial things like introductions. Niki just smiles warmly and opens her mouth to do so - possibly to also reassure the poor human - , but Tubbo is already speaking again.

"My friend can speak to bugs! He said moths always think of food and light." Quackity is once again seemingly stunned, stuck between the awkwardness of not knowing who the people surrounding him are and the confusion regarding the topic of discussion. He blinks, shooting a look towards the bug in Tubbo's hand before quickly looking away with a light grimace, choosing to focus on Tubbo himself.

"Well, little buddy better not get hurt trying to reach a flame!" Q jokes, letting out a small chuckle. Tubbo's face turns from awed to serious in a split second, his other hand moving to cup around the moth.

"That won't happen, I'll protect him!" He answers determinately, nodding solemnly towards Quackity, who can only gape for a moment before bursting out laughing again, shaking his head a little. 

"So, uh … Is there a reason why you've cornered me, or are you just fans?" He asks after a moment, once his chuckles have died down, turning a raised eyebrow towards Fundy and Niki, still standing a bit awkwardly behind Tubbo. 

"Oh, we are your teammates! We recognised your name and figured we should say hi." Niki explains with a smile, moving to crouch next to Tubbo so that the young human can move the moth closer to her.

"You- oh! Oh! -" Quackity exclaims, eyes widening and suddenly looking at them with less confusion "-That's good to know, what a coincidence!" He comments, chuckling to himself as he wipes a hand over his face, grimacing at the dampness that comes away with it - he really needs to wash up.

"And yet! The gods smile upon us." Niki says with a smile, watching as the moth flutters his wings to move from Tubbo's hand to hers.

Nobody seems to notice the unimpressed look that Quackity shoots towards the night sky, but Tubbo's eyes snap towards him the instant he lets out a deep sigh.

"I guess so. Anyhow. I'm going to pass out on my bed, I'll see you tomorrow morning?" The human asks, tone a sweet mixture of enthusiastic, hopeful and exhausted as he moves away from the wall - his guitar in one hand and the untouched mug of ale in the other. 

Tubbo nods enthusiastically, grinning widely at him; next to him, Niki smiles kindly, while Fundy goes for a much more noncommittal nod of his head.

Quackity's eyes linger on the three of them for just a moment more, as if trying to figure something out, then he nods to himself and raises the mug to mimic a toast in their honour, opening the door to the inside of the tavern.

"Don't keep me waiting!"

[largedenominationsplease]

you’d come over, right?

Summary: A year after Kiara and JJ broke up, they come home to the Outer Banks to deal with one of the hardest years of their lives.

Word Count: 5.2k

Warnings: swearing, canon-compliant smoking, au, minor character death, cancer, current events

A/N: Alternate Universe: JJ and Kiara dated seriously for a long while, but over a year before this story, they parted ways. Set in present-day with current events, but most current events are only mentioned briefly for context. All characters aged 21+. Partially inspired by If the World Was Ending by JP Saxe and Someone You Loved by Lewis Capaldi and current events and Sad Feels™ and a sad playlist my sister made. Come cry with me... also on ao3

Shoutout to @alexandracheers​ for proofreading <3

Sometimes even the most beautiful things die. It’s the sad cycle of life. 

It starts with a spark, a first touch, a first look, a first kiss; 

a few embers of warmth, holding hands, secret glances, flirty texts; 

the roaring flames of passion, clinging to one another, leaving the party early, tangled limbs and tangled sheets; 

then the steady heat of a well-tended fire, cozy mornings making coffee, binging your favorite shows, texting to see how your day is. 

But, sometimes, even the most loved and cared for fires die. They go out with little warning or reason. What was a welcome flame in the hearth one night may be a bed of ash by morning. 

Their fire died a long time ago. It wasn’t anyone’s fault - no one was trying to douse the flames - it just went out. When they sat down and discussed breaking up - parting ways was a more apropos term - she hadn’t even cried. When he packed up and moved out, it was unceremonious. He even kissed her forehead as he left, like he’d done a hundred times before, only this time he wasn’t coming back. 

She still dreamed about him. Sometimes unbidden images of picket fences and a dog and home-cooked meals and potted plants intruded upon her thoughts. Once, when her period was late, she’d even dreamt of a curly-haired little boy with blue eyes - which was ridiculous because she was very single at the time. Did she even want to have kids?

He thought about her, too. Each new destination she traveled to brought new Instagram posts and awakened an ache in his chest he couldn’t quite place. That ache deepened when she revisited places they had gone together - unwanted memories flooding his senses. The smell of coconut still sent him spinning, missing the feeling of running his fingers through her hair, over the smooth skin of her arms and legs. 

What hurt so badly about their fire dying wasn’t that it died. What hurt was that it should never have died; that it died so quietly and suddenly; that one day it was there, burning bright, and the next it was a cold gray heap of coals. 

Even their friends were surprised when he moved back home. “Where is she?” and “What happened?” and “We had no idea you had any problems.”

Followed by the futile response of, “It was just time to move on.”

And they did move on, eventually. She traveled to forget and perhaps after a few months she could call herself truly happy - though there was always an ache of not having someone to share each experience with. He stayed at home, but he opened his own business and the familiarity of home soothed any wounds he sustained. Their fire might have gone out, but they kept the bed of ash in the fireplace, a shrine to what they once had, and it was more comforting than sad after a time. 

When the virus first hit, she’d been back in the states, on the West Coast. She messaged him:

Are you safe? Still have a job? Anyone sick?

Fine for now. You?

Fine.

When the protesting started, he knew she’d be in the thick of it. Not that he didn’t get involved, he just knew her passion for people and justice. He messaged her back this time:

You’re protesting, aren’t you? Are you safe?

Of course! But I’m being careful. You?

Staying safe. Protesting here, too. 

Hurricane Isaias wasn’t meant to be a bad storm, but she had still tracked it up the East Coast. Her suspicions were confirmed when it intensified.

Isaias didn’t wipe y’all out, did it?

No, blew through pretty quick. The Cut took a hit. Gonna take some time to fix it up. 

At first, after reading the headlines about the fires out west, he thought it was a joke. As they spread, he realized how serious it was and it worried him. 

You evacuated, right? The air quality is shit where you are. 

Yep. Gonna take a pandemic-friendly tour of some national parks further east.

Every new development meant more messages sent. Simple little check-ins that meant nothing and everything. It was a scary year the world faced, and even after all those months apart, the only thing they wanted was to find comfort in one another’s safety. On opposite ends of the country, the two of them tied together by current events and the memory of their relationship. 

Mid-September, while she was traveling away from the fires on the West Coast, he got a call from her mother. He hadn’t spoken to her mother much since they had broken up, over a year ago, but she still liked his Instagram posts and struck up conversations when she saw him around town. 

“Hey, Mrs. Anna.”

“Hi, JJ. I’ve told you, it’s just Anna.” Her voice was soft and as kind as ever, but held an edge of tiredness and strain he hadn’t heard from her before. “We have some… tough news, and we wanted you to hear it from us first.”

Colon cancer…

Kiara’s hearing faded into white noise as her mother spoke those words to her through the phone. Her mother went on to explain that even though they caught it late, the doctors were optimistic that her father would make a recovery. Treatments were set to start right away. 

“Mom, I’m coming home.”

“Honey, we know you’ve got traveling plans. We’ll be fine. We don’t want to interrupt your-”

“Mom, I can’t do much traveling with this virus. Dad is more important than any of that, anyway. I’m coming home.”

JJ cried when Anna hung up the phone. Mike was rough around the edges, and he was resistant to Kiara dating a Maybank, but once JJ won him over, he treated him like a son. Hearing this news was a punch to the gut - it was like losing a father. Even in the midst of his sadness he knew Kiara would be sent into a tailspin.

Hey. You okay?

She was typing in response, then nothing. He waited, seeing the little bubble pop up again and again and fade away each time. And then she videocalled. She hadn’t called him in months - not since they parted ways. The little screen showed her in her car, only illuminated by her dim phone screen and the passing street lights. Tears stained her cheeks, but she kept her eyes trained on the road. “I’m not okay.”

“You’re driving right now?”

“I’m coming home.”

“Kiara, pull over. It’s late. Get some sleep.”

“I can’t. They caught it late - he might… who knows how much time I have-”

“Kie.” His voice was soft. He was always soft toward her.

Her face crumpled as the tears fell fresh. He let her cry. He talked to her about nothing and everything as her tears subsided. She cried as she drove through the night, talking to him when she was calm, crying harder when the conversation lulled. She didn’t stop until she noticed he’d fallen asleep, the video call still rolling. It was after four in the morning. The pang of nostalgia that tore through her was enough to make her catch her breath. They hadn’t talked like that since they first started dating. A few tears sneaked out of the corners of her eyes, but she couldn’t tell if the memories or the fear of the future caused them. She found a safe place to park and fell into a fitful sleep in the back of her car. 

She made it home just in time for her dad’s first surgery. JJ met her and her mother at the hospital parking lot, all masks and six-feet of distance until she said, “I could really use a hug.” The three of them colliding into a group hug within seconds. 

JJ made sure the Carreras didn’t need anything as Mike went through chemo and more and more hospital stays. He ran errands for them since none of them could risk going out and bringing anything home. He did yard work since Mike hated an unkept lawn. Kiara always made sure to leave him snacks and drinks on the back deck as the North Carolina heat stretched into October. Aside from that, he willingly put himself at Anna’s beck and call. Anything and everything she needed done, he jumped at the opportunity to help. He would even come over in the evenings to play cards with Mike - masks included. Kiara’s heart ached as she watched her parents get along with him so well. She hadn’t realized how far he had wormed his way into their little family, but here they were, acting as though nothing had changed between him and their daughter, loving him like a son. He praised her mom’s cooking until she blushed and there were times he could make her dad laugh so hard they all forgot for a moment that cancer existed. Those moments were fleeting and oh-so cherished. 

Mike deteriorated quickly. It made Kiara sick to see her father become a cancer-wasted shell of himself. As optimistic as the doctors had been originally, the treatments weren’t taking well. As chemo wrapped up, his numbers were still dangerously high. November brought another emergency surgery that confirmed their worst fears. Mike moved home. They were told all that was left was to manage the pain and make him as comfortable as they could. They had perhaps a month left. JJ moved into the guest room to be as close as possible in case anything was needed from him. The four of them were left waiting as Thanksgiving approached. 

Kiara wasn’t sleeping. Maybe it was knowing her ex-boyfriend was staying down the hall from her, though that was an odd thing to focus on. More likely, it was the fact that her father was passing away right before her eyes, slipping through her fingers as she stood by, helpless. The sun had set hours ago, and she sat with a now-cold cup of tea in front of her at the kitchen table, mulling over each crazy event that had led her to this point. 

JJ wandered into the kitchen, opening the fridge to inspect the contents. “What are you doing up so late?” he asked.

“I could ask you the same thing.” The words came out harsher than she had intended, but then again, she was exhausted in every single sense of the term.

JJ brushed off her roughness. “Hungry. Did you eat dinner?” He knew she hadn’t, so he set about making an extra sandwich.

After a few moments of silence, Kiara whispered, “It’s all my fault.”

“What?”

“It’s my fault,” she repeated, her lip trembling. “I always kept track of his appointments for him. He was always shit at remembering to go to the doctor. He should have had one last year, but I didn’t come home and I didn’t remind him. If I hadn’t broken up with you, I would have been here to remind him to go.” Tears shone in her eyes and on her cheeks.

JJ gave her a quizzical look, deciphering what she was saying. “I seem to recall being the one who left. But really none of this is anyone’s fault,” he kept his voice even, wanting nothing more than to hug her, to wipe away all the tears, and make sure she never had to shed another one again.

“I know, I know, it’s ridiculous, but it’s what keeps running through my head.” She reached up and readjusted the messy bun that her hair was falling out of. “But, for the record, I asked you to leave.” JJ raised an eyebrow as she said this, as though he didn’t believe her. The truth was, neither of them really remembered who had dumped who or why he had left in the first place. Nothing happened that they couldn’t work out with a little bit of effort. “Didn’t I?” she faltered.

He shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“We just fought a lot, didn’t we?”

“Constantly. You were a bitch.”

She turned to him, mouth open. She slapped at his shoulder, “I know you did not just call me a bitch, bitch!”

He smirked at her. “Maybe you weren’t that bad. Apparently, I was a slob.”

“You are a slob,” she chuckled. Then she sighed and moved to heat up her tea. “But that’s no reason to dump someone. We just… fell out of love, I guess.”

“I didn’t.” His voice was so soft he was barely even sure he had spoken. Based on the way Kiara froze, her back tense, he’d definitely said those private thoughts aloud.

She turned slowly, her face pale with lack of sleep and - something else. Was that anger? Or sadness? “You’ve had more than a year to confess something like that to me, and you choose now?”

JJ shrugged helplessly, unsure of what to say.

“That was the issue all along, wasn’t it?” Kiara’s voice shook, but she kept her tone cool, even. “You wouldn’t communicate with me.”

“Oh, come on, Kie, that’s not fair.” It was too late for a fight. They were both tired and emotional. This wouldn’t end well.

“What’s not fair?” Her voice had started to rise in volume and pitch as her anger increased. She wasn’t even sure why she was angry in the first place, but something about JJ’s confession caused her blood to boil. “The fact that you didn’t admit you still loved me when you left over a year ago? Or the fact that you choose to admit that to me while I’m exhausted and emotionally compromised?”

“Don’t be like that! That’s not what I’m doing.” JJ tried to keep his voice lower than hers, so they wouldn’t wake Mike or Anna, but the way her eyes flashed told him that wouldn’t happen. He grabbed her bicep and led her out to the backyard.

“Let go of me!” She pulled away from him, trying to hide the shiver that ran up her spine in the cool November evening air. “You don’t get to manhandle me and manipulate me into falling back into your arms like nothing happened.”

“That’s not-“ JJ ran his hands through his hair, frustrated. “You know I’m shit at communicating this stuff.”

“At saying ‘I love you?’ At being emotionally present? Listen, I know your dad was fucked up and he fucked you up, but you’re a grown-ass man now. You could have learned how to be there for me!”

“Don’t bring him into this!” They’d had this fight a million times before. The recurring theme of their demise being communication. Their fire had been sputtering under the faulty system they had in place long before they realized what their problems were - it was something neither of them wanted to admit. “Fuck it, Kie, even if I had wanted to get any better at communicating, you were no help. You held every single one of my mistakes over my head. There was no road to redemption for you.”

“No, no that’s not true. I tried to help you-“

“Only telling me what I did wrong wasn’t helpful.”

She opened her mouth and closed it again, stuttering in anger. “Well… if you still loved me so much, why did you leave?”

“Why stay when I knew you didn’t love me anymore?” JJ’s voice dropped and he avoided eye contact with her. 

Her eyes grew wide in realization. “You know what? Fuck you! I loved you until the day you left. If I had known you weren’t coming back I would have fought harder to keep you with me, and if you’re too dense to see-” He cut her words off, cupping her face in his hands and kissing her roughly. She melted into him, a single tear squeezing itself from her eye. He tasted of a coconut flavored vape pod and nicotine and the sea. He was just as stupid and lovely as ever. It only lasted a moment before she shoved at his chest, clearing her throat and turning from him to hide the blush rising to her cheeks. 

“I’m… I’m seeing someone,” she muttered by way of explanation.

“Oh.” JJ licked his lips, missing her more than he had before he kissed her. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t know. Who is it? Why aren’t they here?” He hadn’t meant to add that last part, but he was curious. Who could she be seeing that wouldn’t support her during all of this? Who could she want to be with that wasn’t there, like he was?

“Um, her name’s Fern. I asked her not to come. I didn’t want her to meet my dad this way.” She started to walk toward the door, wrapping her arms around herself in the cold November evening air. 

“Kie,” JJ called after her. She turned slightly, to catch his eye out of the corner of her own. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry about everything… I fucked a lot of things up. And I’m sorry about your dad.”

She nodded. “Me too.” With everything, she added mentally, and he knew she had.

Kiara and JJ wordlessly promised each other that they wouldn't let their differences ruin the upcoming holidays. So Thanksgiving passed uneventfully. It was almost a normal Carrera family holiday, besides the fact that Anna and JJ did most of the cooking. Mike tried once or twice to wander into the kitchen, but he didn’t make it long before having to sit back down. Kiara made him comfortable on the couch and they watched what little football was playing. She was sure to commentate on each play alongside him. The four of them ate extreme amounts of food, and laughed and played games. “Tomorrow we go get our Christmas tree,” Mike announced at the end of the night. Kiara bit her lip and glanced at JJ. He shrugged half-heartedly.

“That’s right, baby,” Anna replied, looking meaningfully at the others. 

And they did. They didn’t travel to the mountains, like other years, but they did go down to the local tree lot. Kiara made a big fuss about finding the fattest tree and over-scrutinized each one until she found the perfect Christmas tree, just like always. JJ had spent holidays with the Carrera’s before, but he had never been so intimately involved in all of their traditions. He thought Christmas might just become his favorite holiday at this rate. 

The weeks leading to Christmas weren’t all smooth sailing. Just a few days after Thanksgiving Mike was confined almost exclusively to a hospital bed in the living room. A nurse moved in a few days after that. He slept fitfully if he slept at all, and most days, the pain (or the pain medication) kept him from interacting with the rest of them. Kie would read to him in the evenings, starting with A Christmas Carol. He fell asleep after only a few paragraphs each time, so it took a long while to get through the story. All four of them watched classic Christmas movie after classic Christmas movie - many of which JJ hadn’t ever seen (to which Anna always replied, “That’s going on our list, then!”). Mike managed to stay awake for the entirety of Elf, his favorite. 

Christmas day was quiet. JJ cooked breakfast for everyone, and Anna gushed about how good his cooking had gotten. They had opted not to exchange gifts this holiday, instead filling their stockings with all their favorite candies and snacks. It had been JJ’s idea, and Kiara thought he might have been a secret genius for suggesting it. In the afternoon, Fern called Kie and they talked for over an hour. JJ thought she looked satisfied when she returned, but nowhere near as happy as one should be when they got off a long conversation with their girlfriend. It was probably just the current circumstances. She didn’t say anything other than, “What’s the next movie, Dad?”

Mike died two days after Christmas. He went in his sleep, which was exactly what he had wanted. No fuss, no doctors trying desperately to save him. Just a good night’s sleep where he peacefully breathed his last. He didn’t look the same as he once had. Cancer had changed him so drastically, his once strong imposing frame a mere shadow of its former glory. But his face was smoothed out, lines of pain, grief, and illness wiped away, leaving simply peace. He could have been asleep, but now he would never wake up. Looking at him, Kiara felt like she was drowning. Like every breath she fought to take just filled her lungs with more and more water. Her dad was her rock, and now she was sinking in a wide, dark ocean. She thought she might never breathe again. 

The funeral was tiny - it was only close family that attended - three days after he passed. The sky was clear and blue and the air was cold, typical North Carolina winter. It had snowed the day before, just a bit, so the ground was frozen and white. It could have been beautiful if it wasn’t so heartbreaking. Anna didn’t cry that day. She said she had cried enough. The snow started falling again that evening, once they got home, and she said that was Mike’s way of telling her he loved her. She loved the snow.  

JJ went back home the day after the New Year. Anna told him to stay as long as he wanted, but he said it was time for him to move on. She understood, hugged him tightly before he went, admonishing him to come around often. He said he would, and promised to help with anything she needed around the house, too. Kiara sat huddled on the front porch in a rocking chair, wrapped in a thick blanket with a cup of hot cocoa as he walked out. “You’re not going to say goodbye?” he teased kindly. 

She looked up at him, her eyes still bloodshot and sorrowful. He wanted to hold her. He wished she had never had to go through any of this. She didn’t deserve it. “I don’t know what to say,” she said. “You’ve done so much for us.”

JJ shook his head. “It was selfish. I thought if I was nearby maybe it wouldn’t happen.”

“It was anything but selfish,” She insisted, standing up and wrapping the blanket tighter around her shoulders. She placed a cold hand on his cheek. “Really, J. We couldn’t have made it through any of this without you.”

JJ might have leaned too deeply into her touch, no matter how cold her hands were. It somehow felt colder when she moved away. He cleared his throat. “So what’re your plans now? Getting back on the road?”

“Not until spring. Mom won’t admit it, but she’s not ready to be alone. She’ll need some help coping. And honestly, I’m not itching to leave.”

“I thought you’d wanna skip out as soon as possible. Doesn’t Fern miss you?”

She squinted her eyes but didn’t say anything in response. “I’ll miss having you around, Maybank.”

“Yeah, don’t worry, I’ll still be around. I think your mom will institute Sunday dinners or some shit if I don’t come over regularly.”

Kie chuckled. “She really loves you. Dad does - did, too.” Her voice broke slightly.

“I love them, too,” JJ said, honestly. He pressed a kiss to her forehead before picking up his bags and leaving. Kiara caught her breath as his lips brushed her skin, warmth spreading from where he made contact. Her wide eyes stayed glued to his figure as he loaded up his truck and drove away. 

If normal could be achieved after a year like the Carrera women had experienced, they worked their hardest to achieve it. Anna threw herself into caring for the Wreck and it had the best off-season it had had in years. Kiara wrote songs and worked alongside her mother and even took some online classes. Anna did indeed institute Sunday dinners with JJ and he came to as many of them as he could. Life was slow to move forward, but Kie and Anna kept each other afloat, reminding themselves that Mike wouldn’t have wanted them to sit still crying over him. Step by step they picked up the pieces of their lives. 

Things went along this way for a couple months or so. The world was calming down, but not fully quiet yet - when was the world ever quiet? Kiara never thought she could enjoy the quiet slow life that was the Outer Banks during the off-season, but after the year she’d had, she wanted nothing more than simple domesticity. She said as much during one of their Sunday dinners, enticing a knowing smile from her mother and a surprising lack of eye contact from JJ. She cornered him on the back deck when he’d stepped out to smoke. She was grateful they had regained some of the ease their friendship had carried when they were younger. “Okay, what was that all about?”

He chewed on his lip, twisting his cigarette between his fingers. He’d given up weed a while back when they were traveling, out of necessity, but she was secretly glad he’d never taken it up again. “I’m leaving,” he said abruptly. 

“Leaving? Going where?” 

“Not sure yet. My cousin’s gonna watch the shop for me. Travel the states for a bit until it’s safer to leave the country. Then Mexico? Maybe.”

“When will you be back?” 

He shrugged, “Don’t know. Not for a long time.”

“Why?” Her mouth had gone dry and her words had run out. JJ was a die-hard salt-lifer. He might pack up and leave occasionally, but the Outer Banks was home, where he belonged. She thought that no matter where he went, he’d always end up back here. Home. How could he leave now?

He turned to look at her, urgency and honesty shining in his eyes. “I know he was your dad, and I probably don’t have the right to feel this way, but I…” 

“You lost him, too,” she said, understanding.

“Need a change of scenery.” He shrugged again, putting out his cigarette before walking back inside. 

Kiara understood better than most the need to keep moving, the change of scenery a welcome distraction. Traveling alone left a lot of time to think and soul-search. She didn’t peg JJ as the soul-searching type, but grief changed people; he needed time. She could support him in that.

“You’re going with him, right?” Anna asked sternly as she and her daughter washed dishes that evening. JJ had just left. 

“What?” Kiara nearly dropped the plate she was drying. 

“JJ told me all about his plans. Getting out of here for a while will be good for him!” She waved a hand over her shoulder, dismissing Kiara’s shocked expression. “He talks to me, too, you know? Always has.”

Kiara chuckled lightly, “So even though he and I broke up, he never broke up with y’all?”

“You shouldn’t have broken up with him.”

Kiara’s heart stopped for a moment, as she processed what her mother had said. “What do you mean?” She started slowly. “I thought you didn’t approve of me dating someone from the Cut.”

Anna sighed, setting down a half-washed pan. She turned to her daughter. “Your dad and I always wanted what was best for you. We thought that meant college, a solid career, marrying up. But we realized recently that that is never what life’s about.” She reached out and took Kiara’s hands, tears starting to shine in her eyes. “Your dad was from the Cut. When we first got married, we had nothing except each other but being with him was the best decision I ever made. He made me happy. I think I made him happy, too.”

“You definitely made him happy, Mom. But JJ and I fought all the time, we couldn’t sort things out.”

Anna scoffed, “Your dad and I fought, too. Fights happen, but you have to realize you’re not fighting each other, you’re a team fighting the problem. Once you figure that out, you can work through anything.”

Kiara shook her head, but she had a soft smile on her lips. “Mom, I just don’t know.”

Anna smiled, tearfully. “That is what life’s about. Nobody knows! What really matters is who is there to walk with you in the unknown. Who is there for you when you need them? Through the good and the bad. Your dad was that person for me.” She paused and looked at Kiara meaningfully, “So I’ll ask again: are you going with him?”

She shouldn’t, but while considering all of this somehow she felt freer. Her father had just died, she should still be mourning him, and yet she knew that he wouldn’t want her to wallow - she had to pick herself up. You knew this was coming, she heard his voice in her head. She hoped she would never forget what that voice sounded like. You knew I was going. Now that I’m gone, you’re free to live your life again. Live it, Kiara.

JJ finished buying his ticket for the ferry. It was cold out, more snow on its way. He had some time to kill before loading up his truck, but not much. He double-checked the straps on his luggage in the bed of the truck and was just beginning to contemplate how to pass the time when he heard his name being called. He turned to see Kiara running toward him, backpack bouncing wildly on her back. She was all flushed cheeks and shining eyes and curls tumbling around her shoulders. 

“I broke up with Fern,” her words came out in a rush as she drew near him before he could even greet her. “I broke up with her months ago.”

“O-okay,” JJ replied, heart pounding. A million thoughts ran through his mind. He had just seen Kiara, why hadn’t she mentioned it then? Or before then? Why had she come all the way here to tell him that?

“And I’m coming with you,” she continued. 

“What?” JJ wasn’t one to be lost for words, but he couldn’t say anything else. 

“You make me happy. When the world went to shit you were the one person I wanted to know was safe. You were there for me and my whole family in the darkest few months of our lives and you really cared about us. I don’t care that we fought or that we will fight because being with you makes me happier than I ever thought possible.”

If she was going to say anything else, her words were swallowed up when he kissed her, hands cupping her cold cheeks. “I love you,” he said when she pulled back to breathe. “I never stopped. I didn’t know how to fight for you, how to stay, but I’ll do better. I can be better.”

She pressed another kiss to his lips. “Shut up, we’ll figure it out. We can do it right this time.” 

Sometimes things die. It’s a sad cycle. The brightest fires turn cold and gray. But with time, new sparks can settle in that bed of ash. With care a new fire can start, burning brighter than before. So, even though things sometimes die, sometimes those dead things lead to an even more beautiful beginning.

[dawn-of-tomorrow]

shoutout to @punishing-gray-raven-ocs for this ask game~!!

original post is here

god, this became much longer since i now i have 5 PGR OCs, ahahaah :'DDDD

1) Are you excited about Autumn starting? Why or why not?

Yoko: Of course~! After all, who wouldn't be excited to either sleep an extra hour in or just be around the people you love, all cozy indoors~.

Higetsu: Looks like things will become noisy again, but I don't mind it. After all, it's fine to have fun every once in a while.

Artemisia: I personally do not mind it. What comes and goes, will come and go. Such is the seasons, after all.

Pollux: Halloween~! Hot cocoa with 'mallows~! Food~! Hehe, so many things to choose from, wonder what I'll prepare for Castor~. Maybe if I ask Teacher for an extra day off, she wouldn't mind.

Castor: Uncertain. Castor has no opinions regarding the changing of seasons. It is simply a natural order of the world.

2) If you are excited about Autumn, what is your favorite Autumn activity?

Yoko: Seasonal activities aren't complete without any festivals~!! You name it, I'm gonna try out everything! Halloween is definitely a part of the fun~.

Higetsu: I'm already expecting both Yoko and Kamui to drag me into any and all celebrations they can join and come across, so scratch sleeping an entire day off from my list.

Artemisia: In the past I used to bake seasonal pies to share with my friends and family whenever Autumn arrived...... haaah. It's been so long. Apologies, don't mind my answer.

Pollux: Castor and I used to roast chestnuts whenever we could, hehe~. Even to this day, I can still remember the smell of the last chestnuts we roasted as humans. Ah, of course, I'm pretty confident in my pumpkin carving skills-- you'll regret doubting my abilities, haha~!

Castor: No comment. Castor has no preferences for any activities. ... However... it might be nice to... attend an Autumnal festival along with brother, Teacher, and everyone........ no, it is nothing. Do forget about it.

3) How would you like to enjoy Autumn once the war is over?

Yoko: Of course, I'd invite everyone to a slumber party back at home. There's a lot of guest rooms that we haven't used in a long time, so everyone can either share a room or have their own~! ... Ah, but I'd probably have to ask dad, er, father about that.

Higetsu: After the war Autumn celebrations, huh.... haven't really thought about that. ... Maybe, I'll sleep an entire day away? Then plan out a relatively small get-together between Gray Raven and Strike Hawk.

Artemisia: ..... I have no plans yet. But... it would be nice to just spend the day with the kids(Pollux and Castor), taking them on an outdoor trip, or even just a peaceful stroll and shopping spree in the stores

Pollux: Mhrrmmm.... Argh, too many things to decide on~!! I'm decide then!!! But I'll definitely make sure Castor survives until then, so we can experience an Autumn where he can live a peaceful life again.

Castor: I....... Castor is.... uncertain. After the war... Castor has never thought about what to do after the war. What does Teacher and brother have to say about this? ....Is that so? Then I will follow their guidance.

4) Do you enjoy Pumpkin Spice-scented foods and/or products?

Yoko: Hehe, yeah~. Ah, I'm not a glutton though! Even I can't eat too much without hurting my stomach, uuuh.

Higetsu: Just to an alright amount. I'm not so crazy over such things that I'd eat them almost constantly you know.

Artemisia: Hm, perhaps just a little. It's fine to enjoy such delicacies every once in a while.

Pollux: ALL OF IT~!! Ahaha, sorry sorry~. But the more the merrier, right, right? Plus, that means there's all the more I can pretend I can't to eat anymore so I can give to both Castor and Teacher~.

Castor: No comment. It is simply a matter of which is the most appealing to my taste and smell regulations, that is all.

5) Are you going to decorate your dorm for Autumn or Halloween?

Yoko: Naturally~! Gray Raven will celebrate Autumn, and I'm already planning out our Halloween decor layouts with Lucia, Liv, and Lee.

Higetsu: Kamui already begged me and Chrome earlier if Strike Hawk could also decor the base with seasonal decorations. I didn't mind it, and though Chrome needed just a bit more pleading, he was fine with it so long as everyone cleaned up the place once the season is ending.

Artemisia: I've already given Pollux and Castor permission to decorate the base as they see fit. I trust that they won't go too overboard.

Pollux: That's such an obvious question with an obvious answer~. Of course we will! Teacher's already given us the go-ahead to decorate the Aegis squad, and we already have the decor ready~. Castor and I'll begin right after this interview.

Castor: Affirmative. Brother wished to celebrate the Autumn season and Halloween, thus we are to put up decorations in our base soon.

6) Hot cocoa or pumpkin spice latte. Which one would you pick, and why?

Yoko: It's gotta be pumpkin spice latte! Hehe, the foam one reason, but the taste is the best part! I hear people say it's too sweet for them, but personally I think it's fine? Mhm, well, everyone's preferences are different after all, so I don't judge~.

Higetsu: Hot cocoa, although pumpkin spice latte is alright too. It's nothing much really, I just prefer the taste of cocoa over the latte.

Artemisia: I have no preferences for either. If anyone were to offer me one of the two, then I'd take the one they're willing to give away.

Pollux: Both! Because Castor likes both, I can just buy either of the two and we can just have one of each. Hehe, don't tell Castor this, but I can tell that he enjoys having hot cocoa with 'mallows, so I often sneakily put in at least a few of them in his drink when I can~.

Castor: .............both. I... Castor is uncertain. The flavor of the beverages simply taste exquisite. That is all. ....but hot cocoa with marshmallows dipped in... I am uncertain as to why, but my chest is heating up at the thought of it.

7) If you're a Commandant, are you throwing any Autumn or Halloween related activities for your squad?

Yoko: Naturally! Lucia, Liv, and Lee all deserve to have have fun and enjoy the season too! They keep pushing themselves to do a lot, and I wanted to give them even just a bit of fun before going back to work.

Higetsu: ....So what if I am. Everyone at Strike Hawk has been working hard, so is it such a surprising thing that I want them to also take a time-off and enjoy themselves? ... Don't you dare tell them though.

Artemisia: Certainly. Although it's been a long time since I threw any Halloween or Autumn-related parties, even a simple celebration of the seasons would suffice. ... But if those two want a grander celebration, then, I suppose I could ask "that person" for a favor or two.

8) What would be the perfect Autumn-themed date for you?

Yoko: Hmmm, there's so many choices for that~.... but spending the day inside the cozy indoors with Lee doesn't seem like a bad idea either... hehe~. But it would also be nice to go out and have a picnic with everyone, just having fun.

Higetsu: Making jack-o'-lanterns, having a horror movie marathon night, going shopping for Halloween costumes and other related stuff, making seasonal pies and donuts.... What? I'm only saying these because Kamui's a huge bubble of energy, so he most certainly would wanna do a lot of things for a "date". ...It's not that I wouldn't enjoy it either though.

Artemisia: A date? No comment. I have no time for such things. Besides... I'm not qualified for such normal and mundane peaceful activities.

Pollux: Bzzzt-!! Nobody will be taking anyone on a date here~! Ah, but an outing with Castor and Teacher word be nice though. I wanna see those two happy, since they're... bah, nevermind. You heard nothing~.

Castor: Negative. A date is an event one goes with a lover, is it not? Then Castor is unable to go to one. ....Hm? You can go on a date with either friends and/or family instead? Is that so. ... Then, perhaps going to a carnival would be nice with brother and Teacher would be nice...

9) Do you enjoy rainy weather, or does it make you gloomy?

Yoko: Well, so long as it's just a light rain or a heavy rain that doesn't last long. The best part of the rain is afterwards, provided the weather didn't disrupt the surroundings too much, aha~.

Higetsu: I don't have any particular feelings towards the rainy weather to be honest. ...Except for the fact that it makes me feel a bit drowsy, damnit.

Artemisia: The rain, huh.... the weather has given me both joyous and grieving moments. I don't hate it, but I don't like it either.

Pollux: I hate the rain. ...Shut up, I won't elaborate why. Move on to the next question before I tear your throat out.

Castor: I.... I don't have fond memories of the rain. But if a mission requires to trudge through even rain, then so be it.

10) Cuddling up next to your favorite partner, on a rainy afternoon, while watching your favorite movies. Would you enjoy this activity? Why or why not?

Yoko: Ehehe~. Is it that obvious I'd enjoy experiencing that with Lee? Honestly, anything I get to experience with Lee would become a good memory, because it means that we're still together, by each other's side then.

Higetsu: Yes. Ah, wait, no I didn't mean to answer that so quickly-- oi, what's with that smirk on your face!? Quit it, you--!! And don't you dare tell Kamui anything I've said here!!!

Artemisia: That sounds like a lovely scenario, I'm sure everyone would enjoy for that to happen. ...That is why I must work harder for that future, for everyone's sake. ...Hm? What about me then, you ask? .... It matters not. So long as I can preserve the happiness of others and their loved ones... then I can get through anything.

Pollux: Something so mundane and tranquil as that.... heh. Not everyone's deserving of that~. But, it would really be something if Castor were to ever finally experience something like that, Teacher too. 'S why I want them to find even the smallest bit of happiness in this crappy world. ....Oi, cut out that footage afterwards and don't share it, else I'll kill you. Heh, am I joking or not~ that's the question~.

Castor: Negative. This scenario requires a lover for this to occur. As Castor has none, then Castor cannot answer this question. ...Hm? Then choose someone close to you instead? A fine alternative. .... would it be alright if I answered a group? Specifically.... the Gray Ravens, Strike Hawks, brother, and Teacher....