#so hes like. a subject of occasional gossip

[catominor]

rattling lfc around in myhead really hard rn. hes so strange and unusual babygirl... i think he has a lot of artistic/scholarly pursuits he does when he isnt politicking/getting lawyerly with it. obvs he writes his philosophy but he also writes really technically well done but boring poetry (perhaps plays too?) & plays the cithara quite well. other than that he spends most of his time reading its his favorite thing to do. he doesnt go outside at all if he can avoid it hes an indoor creature truly

[zephyrchama]

You were sick. Your head was in a fog and your throat hurt something fierce. It was sweltering hot yet you shivered under the covers, hoping for the fever to pass soon. Your body, doing its best to get better, decided to empty the contents of your stomach over the side of the bed.

Beelzebub was the first to discover your condition. He came to wake you up in person when you hadn't shown up on time for breakfast. You were teetering like a newborn deer trying to clean up your mess. He was taken aback at the sight, at how clammy you were, and gently wiped the sweat from your face while checking how warm your forehead was. "You should lay down," he recommended, practically pushing you back into bed. You asked him to guide you to the bathroom instead.

He disappeared to fetch Lucifer. The eldest arrived immediately upon being informed of your condition. Your face muscles twitched as you tried to hold back a second round and apologized for the state you were in. Lucifer told you to stay quiet and just rest. "If you want to apologize, then get better soon."

"Don't tell anyone about this, ok?" you tried to ask. It came out as a garbled, barely perceptible whisper sending bolts of pain through your neck. You didn't want anyone to know how bad things really were.

"I do need to inform Diavolo, but rest assured I'll keep it brief." After ensuring you had water and would be fine alone for a few hours, Lucifer left early to inform RAD of your absence. He later texted you, "Don't hesitate to summon me if you need anything."

The house was quiet. It felt surreal to be the only one there. After some time had passed, you hobbled back to your bedroom and tried to sleep through the pain. Blissfully unaware of the chaos occurring elsewhere.

RAD is no small academy by any means, but rumors sure do spread fast. In first period, Beelzebub told Belphegor the sight he witnessed. They were overheard by Asmodeus, who lamented your absence to Solomon. Solomon asked Raphael to come with him to prepare some nutritious human food so you'd recover faster, and had to be forcibly stopped by Simeon. Luke found out by interrogating Solomon about why he was causing a scene in the kitchen.

Mephistopheles caught wind of the gossip and went directly to Diavolo for confirmation. Lucifer was none too happy at the situation, but the rumor mill was already spinning in full force. He did his best to uphold your image by telling anyone who broached the subject, "it's just the sniffles."

By lunchtime, Mammon was taking bets on how sick you were. "500 grimm says they're explodin' from both ends." "If that were the case, one of us would have stayed at the house with them," Satan rebutted, spying an easy win. "500 grimm says it's just coming out the bottom." They went back and forth, with others occasionally chipping in new symptoms such as hives or internal bleeding. Asmodeus, unable to listen any longer, left the cafeteria to post vague stories about his concern for you on social media.

Leviathan and Thirteen sent you get-well-soon text messages. One was full of worry and asked you to respond ASAP so they knew you weren't dying, as anxiety over your condition was causing them no end of fear. The other assured you to rest easy knowing that your candle was fine and you had plenty of time left before you kicked the bucket. It even recommended passing your bug onto someone else for fun.

You only saw the notifications in the evening, when a pounding headache woke you up and resounding footsteps in the hall signaled that people were home from school.

There was a knock at the door and Lucifer announced you had company. The crown prince and his butler imposed with a tray of fresh herbal tea. It would have smelled amazing if you possessed the ability to breathe through your nose. As the door shut behind them, you spotted at least ten figures out in the hallway.

Barbatos silently served you a hot cup, hopeful the rising stream would assist your sinuses. "Looks like you're recovering well!" Diavolo chimed. "That's great. I feared you were going to heave your guts out all day."

The frank sincerity caught you off guard and you choked on your tea. Barbatos was quick to grab the cup before it spilled.

"You knew?" you rasped. "Oh yes. Lucifer said it wasn't that bad, but tales of your illness have spread all over campus. We know human bodies aren't very strong."

You hunched down into the blankets to hide. The heat spreading across your face this time was not due to fever.

[beloveds-embrace]

What if in og dukedom Kiong was also a Duke but from another kingdom, perhaps the "monsterous northern duke" webcomics like to do lol.

You meet him at a gala in his kingdom (maybe Price had to attend for some political reason?) and make polite conversation, not bothered by this massive intimidating man (you live with Simon after all)

And he feels so at ease with you. This kind and warm woman who is unafraid of him, doesn't shy away from him when he moves a little closer. Perhaps you don't know about the rumors around him being a monster.

But you did know, you mentioned as you watched noblewomen gossip behind their fans. They were just nasty words spoken by bored nasty people. And you smiled so warmly up at him, him of all people.

It made his chest tighten watching you leave to return to your husband's side. He can't help but start looking into you after the gala, wondering what your life is like back home.

And it breaks his heart hearing what people say about you. Calling you a barren woman who's destined for divorce, how you're doomed to become a fallen noble because of it. You were the sweetest woman he's ever met, there's no way fate would have take the chance of motherhood from you. Obviously this was your husband's fault.

And he was more than happy to take you from him and give you all the children you were meant to have.

Wait omg yes i love this 😫 always the cliche northern duke tho hehehe will never get bored of that trope LOL

Dukedom au masterlist

I’m just thinking of him unable to stop thinking about you, even when months passed. In just one night, one gala, you had thawed the ice around him and now, you are all his thoughts circle back to you, you, you.

The flickering firelight danced across the dark stone walls of König’s private study. The room was quiet save for the occasional crackle of the hearth and the faint rustling of paper as he read through the letters his informants had gathered. With each word he read, a knot of anger tightened further and further within his chest, his calloused fingers gripping the parchment.

“Barren,” the word stood out on the page like a cruel slash across delicate skin. “A failure of a wife. Her inability to bear children has become the subject of much speculation among the Southern court. Whispers grow louder of Duke Price seeking annulment or taking a mistress. Some say he might already have.”

König’s sharp, pale eyes lingered on the word. His jaw clenched so tightly it was a wonder his teeth didn’t crack. How dare they? How dare anyone reduce you to such indignity? The woman they were speaking of- the woman he could not get out of his thoughts no matter how much he tried- was kind, intelligent, poised beyond anything the shallow nobles of the Southern Kingdom could comprehend.

You spoke to him with no fear, no judgment. Not a single noble was worth half the delicate shoes you wore.

And this was what said nobles spoke of behind their gilded walls?

He exhaled through his nose, a harsh, controlled sound as he set the letter down. His hands, broad and powerful, trembled faintly as he dragged them over his face, trying to compose himself. His mind betrayed him, conjuring an image of you at the gala months ago, your warmth and grace so at odds with the venomous words on the page.

König stood abruptly, his imposing height casting long shadows across the room. The parchment fluttered to the desk, discarded, as he began pacing. Long strides carried him to the window, where snow fell silently beyond the frosted glass. He stared out, his breath fogging the pane, though his eyes saw nothing but the specter of his anger.

Unbelievable.

This wasn’t just idle gossip. He knew better. Rumors of this kind didn’t grow legs this much unless someone was feeding them. And who else but your own husband could have allowed such things to fester?

“Price.” König spat out the name like a curse.

The thought of the Duke filled him with a cold fury. John Price, who stood beside you at that gala with the possessive air of a man who knew what he had but didn’t deserve it. Price, who allowed these baseless, cruel rumors to circulate unchecked while you stood tall and weathered them alone, a lighthouse in the dark, deep oceans of nobility.

König’s hands curled into fists, his nails digging into his palms. What kind of man allowed his wife- his Duchess- to suffer such indignity? A real husband would have silenced those rumors before they even began. A real husband would have cherished you, ensured the world saw you as König did: radiant, strong, untouchable. A goddess in your own right.

But Price… Price was blind. Or perhaps worse- he simply didn’t care.

Unbelievable.

“It’s his fault,” König growled to himself, taking a deep breath to calm the anger rolling through him.

Still, idea burned like a brand in his mind. If Price had been the husband you deserved, these rumors wouldn’t exist. If he had protected you, König wouldn’t be reading about your supposed “failings” in a cold Northern study lacking your warmth. The hearth was just a pale imitation of you.

His gaze returned to the letter on his desk. He reached for it, smoothing the crumpled edges with surprising gentleness for a man of his size. He scanned the hateful words again, and instead of despair, something else stirred within him- resolve.

If John Price wouldn’t shield you from this venom, then König would. He didn’t care what it cost him. You deserved better, and he would ensure you knew it. The Northern nobility bowed to him; no rumors against you would be allowed once he got you with him.

König pulled out another parchment, clean and smooth, and he wrote a letter. He needed to know what you’d like in general to have around, to make this space more comfortable for you.

How could a man be so blind to the treasure he had? König truly couldn’t fathom it. You deserved love, adoration, and everything the world had to offer. If John Price couldn’t see that, König would ensure that you knew your worth.

He dreamed of sweeping you away to his estate, where the snow-capped mountains would shield you from the cruelty of society even if by the time he had you, all their tongues would be culled. He imagined you holding his children, your laughter filling the halls of his once-empty home.

Yes, he decided. You were meant to be his.

Months later, so much information gathered, another diplomatic meeting brought you back to the Northern Kingdom. This time, König ensured he was present, his heart pounding at the thought of seeing you again.

When you arrived, carefully stepping out of the carriage with John’s help, he couldn’t help but crack a smile; you looked so lovely, bundled against the cold in a fur-lined cloak and mittens, the deep and pale blues of your clothes making you look like a snowflake. He approached immediately, pale blue eyes bright.

“Duchess Price,” he said, bowing slightly. “Welcome back to the North.”

Your smile warmed him more than the roaring fireplaces in his castle ever could.

“Duke König,” you replied, offering your hand for him to kiss. “It’s lovely to see you again.”

He took your hand gently, his calloused fingers brushing against your gloved ones. “The pleasure is mine, my lady. Shall I show you the gardens? They’re especially beautiful this time of year.”

John watched from a distance, forced away as the servants began showing them to their room, though his sharp eyes narrowing as König led you away. Simon, standing beside him, crossed his arms with a grunt.

They… didn’t like this.

[dreamsteddie]

Once Steve and Eddie come out to the broader world, Eddie's floodgates open, and before interviewers can even think to ask about his "long-term partner and love of my life" Eddie starts gabbing about Steve almost as soon as a microphone is put near his face.

At first, Eddie refuses any and all requests to be on talk shows or long-form interviews. Steve himself has no desire to be interviewed ever, and Eddie wants the media hype to die down before he makes any big appearances off the stage. He knows that if he does the conversation will be a glorified investigation into his private life no holds bared.

So Eddie takes the occasional question after a show or on the red carpet but always dominates the conversation and finishes quickly. He's always dropping little tidbits about Steve, even if it's just talking about whether or not he was able to make the show or how handsome he looks in their matching outfits today.

Once the hype dies down and the media vultures aim their beaks at another celebrity, Eddie agrees to do a couple of talk shows with the rest of the band.

Everything is normal. The focus is on their next leg of the tour and the music video they released last week that went viral. Right up until the last three or so minutes when the interviewer asks, kindly, how his boyfriend Stevie is doing.

Stevie.

As in Eddie's Stevie.

The name only Eddie and Robin have ever called him. The name that used to make Steve flush so pretty when they first started drifting together. The name that still makes Steve give him one of those pleased little smiles that make his heart pitter-patter in his chest years later.

Eddie's hackles are immediately raised at the audacity of this stranger to talk about his boyfriend so familiarly. His shoulders rise, eyes narrowing ready to say something scathing when the rest of the band notices and steps in. Jeff drops a not-so-friendly hand on Eddie's shoulder while Freak steps in to very loudly tell a funny story about the last time Steve joined them on the road. Emphasizing "Steve" a little too much as he does.

When Eddie finally gets to stalk off stage he's let himself get worked into a tizzy. Logically, it's not a big deal but Eddie has always been territorial when it came to Steve and has been even more on edge since they came out. The idea of anyone outside of their family acting like they know them, know him, just because he's married to Rockstar Eddie Munson and shows up in the occasional gossip rag makes him so fucking mad.

As soon as he's backstage he's dialing Steve's number, impatiently running one hand through his hair as the phone rings and rings. As soon as he hears the beginning of Steve's standard WASPy "Hello, this is the Harrington-Buckley residence, Steve speaking" greeting Eddie launches into a long rant about "the audacity of media vultures."

Steve doesn't say a word the entire time, just letting Eddie vent out his frustrations. At the end, Steve lets the silence linger for a little bit before speaking.

"Hey babe?"

"Yeah, Stevie?"

"I don't know how to tell you this but you've been referring to me exclusively as 'Stevie' since we came out. I'm pretty sure when we made the announcement you said 'This is my Stevie. He's been my partner for six years.'"

".....what?"

"In fact, I'm sure that's exactly what you said because Robin replaced all my nametags at work with ones that said 'My Stevie' because she has the sense of humor of a middle schooler."

"God fucking damn it!"

They hang up not long after. When Eddie looks up for the first time since he dialed Steve's number he's met with the rest of the band and their personal crew all wearing various faces of exasperation.

Sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck, he rocks on the balls of his feet and says "Sooooooo...I may have overreacted."

----

The next day, despite Eddie's hopes that his outburst wasn't that noticeable, his clearly irate face is the subject of every magazine and gossip rag at the grocery store.

Robin frames her favorite one and gives it to Eddie for his birthday.

[iamgonnagetyouback]

lorenzo berkshire x oblivous bsf!reader who doesn't realize enzo's feelings for her

You and Lorenzo Berkshire had been inseparable since before either of you could remember. You shared everything: birthday parties, first days of school, scraped knees, and secret hideouts. Growing up in each other’s orbits meant that your lives were entwined so tightly that the idea of "you" and "Lorenzo" felt like one singular entity. There was no "you" without him.

Your earliest memories were filled with laughter—his soft giggles as you raced through the fields behind your house, his shy grin when you baked cookies together for the first time (though he burnt them terribly). As kids, you held hands without a second thought, sneaking into each other's homes when it rained, building forts out of blankets and pillows while you dreamed about the day you'd finally go to Hogwarts. The night before your first train ride, Lorenzo had shyly handed you a daisy he'd picked from his backyard.

"To remember me by," he mumbled, cheeks pink.

"As if I could forget," you'd teased, but the flower stayed pressed between the pages of your favourite book.

Then, Hogwarts happened, and you made new friends, got sorted into different houses (he ended up in Slytherin, you in Hufflepuff), but you still found each other between classes. The teasing continued, the inside jokes and pranks. You became his safe space when the weight of his duties pressed on him too hard, and he was your companion in every late-night gossip session.

There were still times when you thought there was something different. Like the time during a lazy summer day at the lake when he draped his jacket over your shoulders, even though the sun was shining brightly, or the way he hesitated just a moment too long before pulling his hand back after helping you up from a fall. You never thought too deeply about it, brushing it off as part of your long-standing friendship.

Year five arrived, and the two of you were as close as ever. Still, there were moments that felt... different, though you couldn't quite place why. He'd brush your shoulder when he passed you in the hall, or his gaze lingered just a little too long during meals. You laughed it off—because what could possibly change between you and Lorenzo? Best friends forever, right?

One night, in the Common Room, you were discussing upcoming exams when he turned to you, his voice lower than usual.

"Do you think..." he hesitated. "Do you think people can just stay the same forever? Like... always be what they are?"

You blinked, caught off guard by the question. "I mean... I guess? If they want to be. Why?"

Lorenzo only gave you a small smile, one that didn't quite reach his eyes. "No reason," he murmured before changing the subject.

In year six, things shifted subtly again. He started walking closer to you, his hand occasionally brushing against yours as you strolled through the halls. There were times when his laughter seemed softer, more reserved when he was alone with you. You didn’t notice, not in the way he hoped. It wasn’t obvious enough to break the oblivion that surrounded you, and maybe that was for the best.

It wasn’t until the holiday party that year that everything came crashing down.

Aurora, your best friend from Ravenclaw, had nowhere to go for the holidays. You couldn't leave her alone, so you invited her along to Blaise's annual party, excited to introduce her to the Slytherins you’d grown close with. Lorenzo had helped organize everything, naturally, and you spent the first half of the evening by his side, laughing with him as usual.

You introduced Aurora to everyone—Pansy, Draco, Astoria, Daphne, Theodore—and lastly, Lorenzo.

“This is Aurora,” you said, motioning to your friend with a grin. “She’s an absolute sweetheart. I think you two will get along well.”

Lorenzo’s eyes flicked from you to Aurora, offering her one of his rare, warm smiles. “Nice to meet you.”

You missed the way Aurora’s cheeks flushed instantly at the sound of his voice. But Pansy didn't.

The evening wore on, the room buzzing with laughter and chatter, and eventually, the group began to scatter into smaller conversations. Aurora pulled you aside near the punch table, her face unusually tense.

“What’s wrong?” you asked, concerned by the sudden shift in her mood.

She hesitated, glancing nervously at where Lorenzo stood talking to Blaise. “I… I think I like Enzo.”

Her words hit you like a blow to the chest. You stared at her, the warmth of the room suddenly feeling suffocating. "What?"

“I think I like him," she repeated, biting her lip. "I don’t know how it happened, but… there’s something about him. The way he talks, how kind he is. He’s just so—”

You didn’t hear the rest of her sentence. Everything blurred, and for a reason you couldn’t quite grasp, it hurt. A lot. You wanted to tell her she was mistaken, that it didn’t make sense, that Lorenzo wasn’t supposed to be liked like that—at least not by someone else.

But what could you say? She was your best friend too, and she deserved happiness. So, you forced a smile, though it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I didn’t know. I mean, he is… he’s great, isn’t he?”

Aurora nodded, her expression soft. “Yeah. I hope it’s okay that I told you.”

“Of course it is.”

But it wasn’t. Not really.

The next morning found you sprawled across your bed in the Hufflepuff dormitory, staring blankly at the ceiling. The sun had already risen, casting beams of light through the window, but you hadn’t moved much since getting back from the party. The thoughts from the night before still circled in your mind, refusing to let go.

Your dormmate, clearly concerned by your uncharacteristic silence, glanced over at you as she packed her books. “You good?” she asked, hesitating by the door.

You gave her a half-hearted wave, plastering a smile on your face. “Yeah, fine. Just tired.”

She eyed you for a second longer before shrugging. “Alright, well, don’t forget about class later.”

As soon as the door clicked shut, you let out a long sigh. Alone again.

Your mind wandered back to the party. Aurora. Lorenzo. You couldn’t shake the way her eyes had lit up when she talked about him. How she had looked at him like he was the most fascinating person in the room. But why did it bother you so much? It didn’t make any sense.

Would they even look good together?

You sat up a bit, propping yourself on your elbows as you thought about it. Aurora was so petite compared to Lorenzo. The height difference wasn’t even cute—he’d have to bend down just to talk to her, and that would be awkward, right? And they were complete opposites. Lorenzo was calm, reserved, always thinking before he spoke. Aurora was bubbly, spontaneous, the type of person who filled every room with laughter. Opposites attract, sure… but them?

You groaned and flopped back onto your bed, hands covering your face. "What would their ship name even be?" you muttered to yourself. "Aurozo? Lorora? No, that sounds terrible."

But then your mind wandered further, picking at the insecurities you hadn’t let rise to the surface last night. Aurora was amazing, after all. She was sweet and smart, always knowing the right thing to say. She was pretty—okay, not just pretty, she was beautiful—and witty, always ready with a clever comeback. And then there was her personality, so warm and inviting that even the most standoffish people were drawn to her. She was perfect, really.

Too perfect.

You sat up and slapped your forehead, hard enough that the sound echoed in the empty room. “Talking to yourself now? Really?” you whisper-yelled, feeling the embarrassment creep up your neck. “That’s a new low.”

You lay back down, arms draped over your eyes as you tried to push the thoughts away. But no matter how hard you tried to brush them off, the uncomfortable tightness in your chest refused to leave.

It didn’t make sense.

Why did it bother you this much?

After classes that day, you were packing up your books when you spotted Aurora walking towards you, her usual bright smile lighting up her face. There was something different about her today though—something nervous and a bit fidgety. She stopped just in front of your desk, twirling a strand of her hair between her fingers.

"Hey," she said softly, biting her lip as if she was about to ask something big.

You tilted your head, sensing her hesitance. "Hey, everything okay?"

She took a deep breath, then let it out in a rush. "Can you… set me up with Enzo?"

Her words felt like a punch in the gut, but you masked it with a cheerful smile. After all, what kind of friend would you be if you didn't help her? She liked him—really liked him. And wasn’t it your job to make sure your friends were happy?

“Of course,” you heard yourself say, even though the knot in your stomach tightened. “I’ll help. Enzo’s great, and I’m sure you two would… get along.”

Aurora’s face lit up instantly, and she clasped your hands in excitement. “Thank you! I just… I didn’t want to approach him out of nowhere. I figured since you guys are best friends, maybe you could, you know, talk me up?”

You nodded. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll drop your name.”

For the next week, you became Aurora’s biggest advocate when it came to Enzo. You wove her into nearly every conversation the two of you had, even when he clearly tried to steer things elsewhere.

“Did you know Aurora’s favorite flowers are tulips?” you blurted one afternoon while the two of you were studying in the library. Lorenzo looked up from his notes, blinking in confusion.

“Oh. No, I didn’t.”

“Yeah, she’s got great taste. She’s really into plants in general, actually. She’s been thinking about starting a garden.”

Enzo raised an eyebrow, clearly not following your sudden shift in topic, but he nodded politely. “That’s nice.”

You grinned, determined to keep the conversation going. “She’s super thoughtful too. Last year, she handmade Christmas gifts for all her friends. You should’ve seen the scarf she made me. Perfect colors.”

“Mhm.” Lorenzo hummed, leaning closer to his parchment, probably thinking you’d drop it.

But you didn’t.

The next day, when you met up with him for lunch, you brought her up again, like clockwork. “Aurora’s so smart. She absolutely aced her Potions essay the other day. I bet she could help you if you’re stuck on anything.”

“I’m actually doing okay in Potions,” he replied, glancing at you with a flicker of confusion. “But thanks.”

“You should ask her about it sometime though,” you continued, smiling brightly. “She’s great at explaining things. I mean, I’ve learned so much just from talking with her.”

Lorenzo hesitated for a moment, his eyes scanning your face as though searching for something. “You’ve been talking about Aurora a lot lately.”

You shrugged, brushing it off. “She’s amazing! You two would really get along if you gave it a chance.”

He didn’t say anything, just gave a small nod and looked down at his plate, clearly wanting to change the topic. But the next time he showed even the smallest interest in anything you said about Aurora, you latched onto it.

During a conversation later that week, Lorenzo mentioned that tulips were actually nice flowers. That tiny comment was all it took for you to believe he was finally taking an interest in her.

“See? I told you! You and Aurora have so much in common. She’d totally love to talk flowers with you.”

His eyes flickered with something, a mix of frustration and confusion, but he didn’t argue. He nodded instead, a sigh escaping his lips. “Yeah… maybe.”

You beamed, completely oblivious to his hesitation. “I knew it! You’re going to be great together.”

For some reason, the idea of them getting closer felt like an itch you couldn’t scratch, but you kept pushing through it. This was what you wanted, right? To see your best friends happy. So why did you feel like you were slowly unravelling the more you pushed them together?

You sat in the courtyard, absentmindedly fiddling with the hem of your robe. The cool autumn breeze swept through the trees, but you hardly noticed. Your mind was still preoccupied with everything Aurora had said, her excitement about Enzo, and how you’d promised to help set them up. But why did it feel so… wrong?

Aurora had stopped by just minutes ago, her face bright as she asked, "How's it going with Enzo?" You had forced a smile, nodding, “It’s going great,” before watching her bounce away, completely unaware of the growing knot in your stomach.

Moments later, Pansy dropped down next to you with a dramatic sigh, her usual smirk plastered across her face. "Why the long face, sunshine?" she asked, bumping your shoulder lightly.

You mumbled, "It's nothing," but Pansy wasn’t one to be easily fooled.

She leaned closer, eyes narrowing suspiciously. “Nothing? Or Miss Perfect just dropped by to say something stupid?” The nickname made you cringe, a flash of guilt creeping up. Aurora was your friend, and yet… every time Pansy called her that, it sparked an irritation you couldn’t quite explain.

“She was just asking about Enzo,” you muttered, hoping Pansy would let it drop.

“Oh?” Pansy raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued. “What about him?”

You sighed, lowering your gaze to the ground as you mumbled, “She wants me to set her up with him.”

There was a brief pause, and then suddenly Pansy burst out laughing. Like full-on, holding-her-stomach, can’t-breathe laughing.

You blinked at her, bewildered. “What’s so funny?”

Pansy wiped a tear from her eye and shook her head, still chuckling. “That’s so dumb. Aurora and Enzo? Together? Yeah, no. That’s never going to work.”

“Why not?” you asked, though the question felt hollow. Part of you had already started wondering the same thing.

Pansy smirked, tilting her head at you as if you were missing something incredibly obvious. “Even in an alternate universe where that might happen, it wouldn’t matter. Because Enzo likes you.”

Your brain screeched to a halt. You blinked, once, twice, before squeaking out, “Enzo what now?”

Pansy gave you a look that was part amused, part exasperated. “You heard me. Enzo likes you.”

You stared at her, not quite believing your ears. “What do you mean Enzo likes me?”

With a dramatic sigh, Pansy leaned back, crossing her arms. “You know, like when someone admires the other person and is practically whipped for them? That kind of like.”

“I know what like means, Pans,” you muttered, feeling your heart race. “But Enzo doesn’t like me.”

Pansy rolled her eyes. “And the sky isn’t blue.”

You shook your head, still in denial. This had to be a joke, right? Lorenzo liking you? He couldn’t. He never showed any signs. Or… had he? You suddenly thought back to the subtle moments—his lingering looks, the way he always seemed to be there when you needed him, the small touches, the quiet smiles. No, it couldn’t be. Could it?

Suddenly, excitement bubbled up inside you. “Wait, are you serious?” you asked, your voice rising with hope. “Enzo really likes me?”

Pansy raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, obviously.”

You stood up, pacing as your mind raced. “But I can’t! What about Aurora?”

Pansy let out a loud groan, sitting up straighter. “What about Ravenclaw?” she asked, rolling her eyes again.

You stopped in your tracks, spinning to face her. “She likes him, Pans. I can’t just—”

“Oh, please,” Pansy cut you off, waving her hand dismissively. “I just saw her flirting with some Hufflepuff a few minutes ago.”

You froze. “What?”

Pansy smirked, clearly enjoying your confusion. “Yeah. So maybe she doesn’t like him as much as you thought.”

Your heart was pounding as you made your way to the common room later that afternoon, determined to confront Enzo. You found him sitting with Theo, the two of them quietly talking. When you approached, both looked up, and Lorenzo’s eyes immediately softened at the sight of you.

Without hesitation, you blurted, “You like me?”

Lorenzo’s eyes widened in surprise, then a slow smile spread across his face as he leaned back in his chair. “Took you long enough to notice.”

Theo snickered beside him, giving you a knowing look. “That was so obvious,” he muttered under his breath, shaking his head.

You stood there, frozen, as your brain tried to catch up with what was happening. Lorenzo—your best friend, the person who had been with you through everything—liked you. He had liked you this whole time, and you hadn’t even noticed.

Lorenzo stood up, walking over to you. “I didn’t want to push you,” he said softly, his voice gentle and reassuring. “I didn’t want to make things weird between us. But yeah, I like you. A lot more than just friends.”

Your heart fluttered at his words, and you found yourself grinning despite the whirlwind of emotions spinning inside you. “I… I didn’t know.”

He smiled, reaching out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I figured,” he teased lightly, “but I was okay waiting until you did.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips, and you shook your head in disbelief. “I’m an idiot, aren’t I?”

Lorenzo chuckled, his eyes filled with warmth as he looked at you. “Not an idiot. Just a little oblivious.”

Before you could say anything else, Theo groaned loudly from his seat. “Finally. Do you know how long I’ve had to hear him talk about you? It’s exhausting.”

You both laughed, and as you looked up at Lorenzo, everything just… clicked. You weren’t sure why you hadn’t noticed before, but now, standing in front of him, everything made sense.

ughh it took me so long to write but i did it!! my first enzo fic! hope you guys like it

[undying-love]

Paul's grief over time: A Compilation

“During the session [in 1981] Paul fell into a lugubrious mood. He said, ‘I’ve just realized that John is gone. John’s gone. He’s dead and he is not coming back.’ And he looked completely dismayed, like shocked at something that had just hit him. ‘Well, it’s been a few weeks now.’ He said, ‘I know, Eric, but I’ve just realized." (Eric Stewart)

“It’s still weird even to say, ‘before he died’. I still can’t come to terms with that. I still don’t believe it. It’s like, you know, those dreams you have, where he’s alive; then you wake up and… 'Oh’.” (Paul, 1986)

"Occasionally, it wells up. Y'know, and I'm at home on the weekend suddenly and I start thinking about him or talking to the kids about him and I can't handle it." (Paul, 1987)

"Is there a record you like to put on just to hear John’s voice?" I ask Paul the next day. Paul looks startled. He fumbles. “Oh, uh. There’s so much of it. I hear it on the car radio when I’m driving.” No, that’s not what I mean", I persist. "Isn’t there a time when you just wish you could talk to John, when you’d like to hear his voice again?" For some reason, he instead responds to the original question.“Oh sure,” he says and looks a little taken aback. ‘Beautiful Boy". (1990)

"Also not obvious is that McCartney [for the Liverpool Oratorio] has penned a gorgeous black-spiritual-like piece for mezzo-soprano that intones the last words spoken to John Lennon as he lay dying of gunshot wounds in the back of a New York police car -- "Do you know who you are?" McCartney gets a bit choked up at one point when he reveals, "Not a day goes by when I don't think of John.” (1991)

"Delicious boy, delicious broth of a boy. He was a lovely guy, you know. And it gets sadder and sadder to be saying “was”. Nearer to when he died I couldn’t believe I was saying “was”, but now I do believe I’m saying “was”. I’ve resisted it. I’ve tried to pretend he didn’t get killed." (Paul, 1995)

"Paul talked about John a a lot, but the strange thing was that it was in the present tense, “John says this" or "John thinks that. Very weird." (Peter Cox, 2006)

“John Lennon was shot dead in 1980. That totally knocked dad for six. I haven’t really spoken to him a lot about it because it is such a touchy subject." (James McCartney, 2013)

"It's very difficult for me and I, occasionally, will have thoughts and sort of say: "I don't know why I don't just break down crying every day? […] You know, I don't know how I would have dealt with it because I don't think I've dealt with it very well. In a way… I wouldn't be surprised if a psychiatrist would sort of find out that I'm slightly in denial, because it's too much." (Paul, 2020)

"Like any bereavement, the only way out is to remember how good it was with John. Because I can't get over the senseless act. I can't think about it. I'm sure it's some form of denial. But denial is the only way that I can deal with it." (Paul, 2020)

"When I talked to Paul about John and when he missed John most, he couldn't answer me for a long time and his eyes teared up. And I asked him where he thinks about John and when John comes into his mind and he just … he lost it, he completely lost it." (Bob Spitz, 2021)

-------------------------------------------------

The following two are from the gossip website Datalounge, so they may or may not be true. Still interesting though:

"The one time I was ever actually in a room with Paul, zillion people between me and him (and no way I'm gonna bother him, all of us who travel in celeb circles have people we're fans of and all of us inexplicably try to hide it to seem "cooler"), he started talking loudly about himself and John, and how hard it was not to have him there. I remember him saying something along the lines of not a day passing that John's not still in it with him, but it's not like he can pick up a phone and say, "Hey, just needed to hear your voice today," and even when he got craggy responses, he still missed them. He misses it all, and it's bothering to him that he misses him more as time goes on -- it doesn't heal, he just learns new ways to bandage the wound."

“Since everyone is anonymous here, I guess I can give a bit of info I got from a female friend of mine who at one time worked as one of Paul’s assistants. [...] She does not know for certain if John and Paul were involved but she suspects it since to this day whenever John’s name is brought up he acts in her words ‘like a widow’ and he also addresses John in present tense. He would say things like, ‘John thinks that the music should be like this,’ and during his bitter divorce from Heather he was saying, ‘John says that this is getting nasty.’ Kind of creepy." (this one actually seems very intriguing because it sounds very similar to what Peter Cox said, about Paul often talking about John in the present tense, saying "John says.." or "John thinks...")

[daycourtofficial]

Prophesize Me

Summary: Everyone finds out you and Azriel are mates before the two of you do.

Author’s note: I really love this concept, and I hope you guys do too!! 💕

“I would ask you how my niece is doing, however I have an inkling that she’s doing quite well, and will be better soon.”

Rhysand hated whenever Helion got like this. With all of Helion’s knowledge, occasionally he would like to speak in riddles. After receiving confused looks from Feyre and Rhys, Helion handed them a piece of paper, with the words,

“6 becomes 8,

Shadows dance in his wake,

Cobalt light, night skies,

Golden string ties”

Rhysand and Feyre look at each other, both looking incredibly confused, when Helion chirps in.

“My sister was loved by the Mother and the cauldron. When she had all 7 of her babes, the cauldron blessed each of them with a mate.”

Their eyes go wide, searching for you in the crowd of partygoers, and Feyre’s surprise makes her blurt out, “she has a mate?”

Helion chuckles. “Yes, she and her brothers all do. But none of them know who their mate is. Just that they have one somewhere. They were each blessed with a prophecy denoting the identity of their mate.”

He looks pointedly at the paper in Rhys’s hands.

“I started having suspicions when I visited you in Night a few weeks ago, so I went back and reviewed their prophecies and I think we can take an educated guess as to the subject of hers.”

All three of them look at you and Azriel, the two of you engrossed in conversation with one of your brothers.

“Six becomes eight. Azriel has two brothers, me and Cassian. She has six brothers already.” Rhys says, shock all over his face at knowing his brother, who deserves this so much, is going to get his mate. He’s almost vibrating with happiness.

“Do they know?” Feyre asks Helion.

“No,” Helion sighs, “The curse of the prophecy is that the subjects can’t know. If you talk to them about it, it’ll just sound like you’re speaking nonsense.”

“Could we tell Azriel?”

“My assumption would be if he were her mate, if you tried, it would just sound like nonsense. It could be a way to test the theory.”

Feyre and Rhysand couldn’t stop smiling at each other, speaking mind to mind.

“This is incredible. She’s wonderful, she’s adorable! We’ve known her for a while, we all like her, she’s already part of the family.”

“And we know her family! She’s related to Helion - whom we love dearly.”

“How the hell are we going to keep Azriel’s mate a secret from him?”

“How the hell are we going to keep Azriel’s mate a secret from Cassian?”

Cassian wasn’t a spymaster, but he always had a sixth sense when it came to knowing things about his friends. One look at Feyre and Rhys and he’ll know that they know something.

“Do you know what the golden string ties?” Helion asks, genuine curiosity on his face.

Feyre and Rhys look at each other, trying to recall a golden string. Feyre’s eyes go wide as she remembers, “I saw a box In her room a few days before solstice with a gold ribbon around it, but I never saw it in the pile of gifts.”

Rhys turns to her, “I saw Azriel carrying a tiny box with gold string around it a week ago. He wouldn’t tell me anything,” Rhys thinks for a moment, “and I don’t recall seeing them exchange gifts.”

Helion is interested in this - you confided in your uncle about most things, but your love life was not one of them. Helion loved gossip, but when it came to you, it wasn’t just fun gossip. It was your life.

“Solstice was just yesterday - if the prophecy is directly mentioning something that happened on Solstice, then if they are mates, the bond should snap any day now.”

The three of them continue watching you, Azriel, and one of your brothers converse, when Azriel says something that makes you and your brother howl with laughter.

“It can be hard knowing how things will turn out - prophecies are a deep interest of mine,” Helion says, watching you with a smile on his face, “it’s nice that this one will have a happy ending.”

-

Feyre and Rhysand kept the secret from Cassian for twelve hours, a brand new record for them. They were all standing in the kitchen of the house of wind, telling him what they knew. They weren’t too concerned with you and Azriel finding them because the two of you stayed behind in the day court for a few extra days.

When they told him, they honestly thought they had short-circuited him. He just kept going “her… and him… and her…” until eventually the biggest grin spread across his face and he lunged and pulled Feyre into a bone-crushing hug.

“I have to get the feelings out and she’s not here for me to do this to so I’m pretending you’re her!” He says, while spinning Feyre around while she giggles.

Once Cassian is done spinning, he sets Feyre down and looks at them and goes, “okay, so what do we do now? Any schemes?”

“Why are we scheming?” Feyre asks, a little wobbly from the spinning.

“Well we could lock them in a room together,” Rhys says, not answering his mate.

“We could send them on a dangerous mission together, and they’ll be so shaken by how close they come to death, BOOM, the bond snaps,” Cassian says animatedly.

Feyre looks at him, assessing him, “Cass, are you reading romance books?”

He stutters a little, “sometimes Nesta reads out loud so I can fall asleep more quickly.”

“Aww reading really is so boring to you it puts you to sleep,” Rhys coos, reaching over to pinch Cassian’s cheeks, “she reads you bedtime stories.”

“Anyway,” Cassian draws out, trying to draw attention back to the matter at hand, “what are we going to do about our little shadowsinger and our little princess of day?”

-

Cassian was asked to keep his mouth shut and tell no one. So naturally by the time the sun rose the next day, the entire inner circle knew, as did Cassian’s favorite barista and Rita.

“He’s going to be pissed you’re telling all of Velaris his private information, especially before he even knows it,” Rhys tells Cassian, in their war council like meeting.

“He won’t be pissed in the slightest - it’s going to snap any day and we won’t see them for months. Besides, he already struts around town with her, no one was going to be surprised at this,” Cassian says, and Feyre’s shocked his face doesn’t hurt from how hard he’s been smiling since he heard the news.

Cassian did have a point - tons of Velaris citizens had come up to Feyre to ask if the you and the spymaster were together, most feeling disappointed when she said no, none being brave enough to ask the shadowsinger himself.

Mor was buzzing with excitement, her guilt from leading Azriel on has dissipated since you entered their lives, but now even moreso that you’re his mate. She’s especially happy that that means you’ll likely become a more permanent resident in the night court. The inner circle adored you, but they were always afraid you’d eventually just go back to your home in the day court to be with your brothers and Helion.

“I mean, they’re still in day, so maybe the bond did snap, and we just won’t see them again until the spring!” Mor laughs, true excitement coming from her. “Is there a way to know about the bond long distance?”

“I like Cassian’s idea of sending them on a mission, send them to winter so they’ll have to snuggle for warmth,” Lucien, who happened to be one of your oldest friends, speaks up. Elain hits him on the chest, rolling her eyes at her mate.

“Oh oh oh,” Mor pipes in, “we get a male to hit on her, oooh that would really piss off Azriel.”

“He’s already going to be super territorial once the bond snaps, if that happens he genuinely might try to hide her away for years,” Rhys replies, knowing how territorial Azriel already was over you.

“What if we all just disappear for a few days? Leave the two of them here in the townhouse?” Elain says, and Lucien rubs her thigh.

The group considers it - most of them do have their own homes in the city, leaving you and Azriel mostly by yourselves in the townhouse, but the inner circle usually drops by throughout the day. Cassian alone probably comes by five times a day - even more when Nesta’s upset with him.

“None of us visit, and we can’t allow them to come visit us.” Feyre says.

“Just want to point out this was essentially the first idea I had of locking them in a room together,” Rhys grins.

The group continues arguing, with Elain’s idea being the frontrunner.

-

You and Azriel stayed in the day court for an extra night. You got incredibly drunk at the late solstice party with your family, and you also wanted to show Azriel around the day court palace.

You two spent most of the day in some of your favorite libraries - just the sight of one taking Azriel’s breath away. You two spent hours walking around the libraries, telling him about growing up here. You also showed him around the museums - noting to him one of the paintings that was donated by Feyre. You had joked that of course it featured Helion on his pegasus.

Now you were back in your private chambers, showing him your much less impressive personal library.

“Do you miss living here?” Azriel asks, the question on his mind since you all came to the party, after seeing how happy you were with your family.

“Mm, yes and no. I like spending a few weeks here out of the year, I love coming for holidays or just to visit, but it feels like a distant home, like I’m 9 years old,” you say, turning to face him, “I’ve traveled a good bit around Prythian, and honestly I never felt as at home as I do in Velaris.”

The confession hangs in the air. The unspoken words sitting on your tongue, not being brave enough to utter them - “I never felt at home until you.”

He can’t help the grin on his face as he says, “if I may, night court black suits you very well.”

Your cheeks flame as you reply, “it suits you very well, too.”

The two of you somehow closer than you were, only about a foot apart, when a knock shatters the moment. Azriel swears he hears a tiny groan from you as he steps away from you, looking over the shelves of your books, when one title catches his eye. As your attention is focused on the fae who came in to let you know that dinner is ready, he slips the book into his coat pocket.

-

The two of you had winnowed back to the townhouse, directly into your private chambers.

“Can I ask you about something?” Azriel looks at you, curiosity all over his face.

“Anything,” you reply, neither of you moving from the tight hold you had on each other while winnowing.

“Why do you own this?” As he says it, he pulls out a book that you received for Solstice from Amren, one you were especially trying to keep hidden, which is exactly why you brought it with you to leave in your library in the day court.

“Ilyrians: Pleasing a Partner with Wings?” He asks, reading the title. Your mouth is wide open, looking like a fish without water.

“There’s an inscription,” you reply, and Azriel can barely hear it. He’s a little concerned his teasing has gone too far, when he opens the inscription to find Amren’s handwriting.

“Sun Girl,

make a move on the shadowboy. Here’s a guide on how.

Lukewarm regards,

Amren”

Azriel was shocked that Amren would get involved in any of their love lives, much less yours. He didn’t even know if Amren liked you, as much as Amren can like anyone.

“Amren gave you a solstice gift?” Azriel asks. You nod, still hiding behind your hands in embarrassment.

“And she wants you to fuck me?”

You choke on air at his bluntness, “well - uh- I mean - yes but maybe like not in a casual way?”

He looks at you, taking in how clearly embarrassed you are at this gift, at his discovery of it.

“So not in a casual way?” He asks, loving how cute you are in this moment.

You look at your hands, you look around your room, for anything, really, when you say, “not um in a casual way, yes.”

“So you would fuck me in a non-casual way?” He asks, clearly enjoying watching you squirm through this conversation.

You pause, and Azriel’s again afraid he’s gone too far, when he hears you say, “yes.”

“Do you.. have feelings… for me?” He asks, none of his own feelings showing on his face.

You look up at him. Now or never, you think.

“Yes,” you say, looking him in the eye, “yes.”

He continues looking at you as he responds, “good.”

“Good,” you say, not sure what he means, but not wanting to ask.

“Good,” he says, and before you can say the same, he pulls your face into his. Kissing him was an experience for your entire body- you could feel his hands on your face, his body pressed against you, when you felt something in your chest go pop!

You stopped kissing him to look at him in shock, when he’s already smiling at you. “You know!” you shout, “you knew!”

He laughs at your reaction, taking a moment before telling you, “it snapped when we exchanged gifts. I uh needed a few days to process it.”

You nod, Azriel was not someone who took change well, and this was a big one. You can understand him taking a few days to tell you.

“Needed time to process it, but do you uh regret it?” You ask, trepidation coating your voice.

“Not at all. I just… never thought I’d have this. I didn’t want to start things off by saying or doing the wrong thing.”

You smiled at his thoughtfulness, feeling the warmth of the bond in his chest.

-

Rhys was no fool - he knew you two were in day and could return at any minute, so he shielded the room so if either of you came you wouldn’t be able to hear the discussion. He didn’t account for the fact that maybe you were already upstairs, and if you walked by and saw all of your friends gathered not making a noise, it would terrify you.

Which is exactly what happened.

They all heard you scream and turn to see you in the open doorway, Azriel’s shirt hanging off your body. Rhys starts to pull the shield down, wanting to make a crack at you wearing his brother’s clothes, when they’re all hit by the smell. It was so incredibly strong, they all were practically suffocated by it. It smelled like the early morning, when the moon kisses the earth, allowing for night to meet the day.

It all happened so fast, your scream, the shield coming down, Azriel winnowing in a defensive position after hearing your scream from upstairs, all of your friends screaming at the scent of the bond.

Azriel’s in front of you, ready to defend you, only to find Cassian charging at the two of you. He engulfs both you and Azriel in a hug, picking you both up and spinning you. You, in Azriel’s shirt, and Azriel, in his undershorts.

“It’s been like six hours, I thought they wouldn’t know until at least tomorrow,” you muffle into Cassian’s chest at Azriel, who huffs in response.

After what feels like a lifetime of spinning, Cassian sets you down, and you have to brace yourself on your knees to keep from throwing up.

“What are you guys doing here? In a shielded room?” You ask, hands still on your knees, and no one wants to meet your gaze, until Amren speaks.

“They discovered your prophecy, girl.”

Azriel looks to you, confusion on his face. You had honestly forgotten all about the prophecy - you didn’t know the contents, so you didn’t ever let yourself think of it.

You turn to Azriel, “my brothers and I have prophecies about who our mates are, but we can’t hear our own prophecies until they’re fulfilled. I never knew what it stated, just that I had a mate somewhere.”

“And you all heard it?” Azriel asks, looking around the room like everyone was a threat. If the smell didn’t give the bond away, Azriel’s hyper focus on his family as threats certainly did.

“Well,” Cassian interjects, “Helion told Feyre and Rhys, who told the rest of us.”

Nests hits his arm, “they told Cassian and he told the rest of us, big blabbermouth.”

“We just found out last night, and we were meeting to see if there was anything we could do about helping it snap, but it seems like that was a bit pointless.”

You look at Azriel, everything is so new, you have no idea how he would feel about being a pawn in your prophecy, much less about his family knowing something so important with you two being the last ones to know.

The room is still loud, Mor and Cassian found wine bottles and are popping them open. Everyone’s celebrating, while Azriel leans down and whispers to you.

“So, the mother made you for me,” he quirks his mouth into a grin.

“Actually, I’m three days older than you, so I think the mother made you for me,” you retort.

“Oh no, however will I go on? Being made for such a thing of beauty and brains?” He asks. Then he pauses, insecurity taking hold of him for a moment, “are you disappointed? I mean surely growing up knowing you had a mate, you dreamt up imaginary males whisking you away. How do I compare?”

You really take a look at him, a rare moment of vulnerability from him, as you consider a reply. “The males always whisked me away, off to foreign lands.” You look ahead at the chaos of the sheer joy your shared family is experiencing at the news. “You have brought me home.”

You grab his hand, rubbing your thumb across the back of it, hoping that that answer was enough for now. You have centuries to show that the imaginary males are nothing to the real thing.

[rafeandonlyrafe]

pizza night

words: 2.2k

warnings: mentions/implications of sex but no actual smut, best friend!rafe, jealousy, angst but happy ending, friends to lovers, rafe with another girl, reader sleeps with kelce

“PIZZA NIGHT!” you shout, rafe letting out a whoop as you carry in the two boxes, plain cheese for you, and a mess of toppings for rafe.

“was worried you weren't gonna show up.” rafe glances at the clock. you're only about five minutes late, only running behind because the pizza place was busy and your order wasn't ready on time.

“as if i would miss our weekly pizza night.” you roll your eyes. you've had to shift times around occasionally to make sure you get the pizza night in, like for rafes football schedule, or you having to help your parents out at a fundraiser. for the past three years, it's been every thursday night, even both getting pizza from your respective locations while you facetime when you're not both in the outer banks.

“come here.” rafe opens his arms up to you. you step into his familiar hold, strong arms wrapping around you, tugging you against his chest. you inhale his scent, so uniquely rafe.

he's been your best friend for as long as you can remember, your parents being friends when both became pregnant around the same time. you did everything together. pizza nights started as plum puree, as your mom loves to joke.

“what do you wanna watch tonight?” rafe asks, knowing whatever you put on will soon become background noise to your chatting, rafe happy to listen to any gossip you have to say.

“umm…” you tap your finger against your chin as rafe plates your pizza for you, loading his plate with three slices for himself. you know he's already got your preferred drink sitting on the coffee table. “mulan.”

“sure.” rafe nods. he used to argue when he was younger. you'd want barbie swan lake or a romcom while he prefered superheroes and action. he learned throughout your friendship to just not fight it.

you immediately start to tell rafe the latest gossip, filling him in on everything he's missed since you saw him last, even though it was only two days ago.

“oh and you'll never guess!” you squeal. “callie, my friend from florida?” you see if the name jogs rafes memory, which he quickly nods. how could he forget. the one other friend that competes with him, despite you only seeing her for weeks at a time when you went to visit your grandparents in florida. “she's coming to the outer banks! she's gonna stay with us for the summer while her parents travel.”

“oh, nice.” rafe nods. he's happy for you, he really is, but he hopes she's not going to get in the way of his time with you, especially pizza night.

--

“girl, why didn’t you tell me rafe is hot as fuck?” callie giggles, looking out the window where rafe and a couple of his friends are chatting on the patio.

“ew.” you scrunch your nose up. you mean the criticism about callie finding him attractive, not about rafes looks, but callie doesn’t take it that way as she rolls her eyes.

“seriously, he’s so fine.” she slices into another lemon, handing one half to you as you squeeze it to make fresh lemonade.

you just frown. you don’t want callie to find rafe attractive and you’re not sure why the jealous feeling builds in your gut, so you quickly change the subject.

“wanna come to a party friday night? at kelces.” you question.

“oh my god, yes.” callie nods, helping you carry out cups while you bring out the pitcher of lemonade, pouring a glass for yourself and whichever one of your friends also wants one before sitting next to rafe.

callie takes the open spot on the other side of him as the conversation instantly strikes back up. you remain quieter than normal, eyes flicking between them as you watch them interact. you’re glad they’re getting along, truly, but you feel like gouging your eyes out when callie laughs and places her hand on his bicep.

“you okay?” rafe asks after everyone else had gone home, callie having taken your car back to your place to shower while you plan on asking rafe to drive you home.

“yeah.” you put on a wide smile. “whats up?”

“you just seem quieter than usual.” rafe watches your face carefully, noting the way your face falls before you perk back up with a shake of your head.

“nope, im fine. just glad you're getting along with callie!”

“speaking of…” rafe pulls his phone out, handing it to you. “can i have her number?”

“oh… yeah.” you nod quickly, grabbing his phone and typing in her number. you have it memorized along with rafes and your mom and dads, the only ones you’ve typed in enough to know by heart. “why do you want it though?”

“i thought i’d get to know her a bit.” rafe shrugs. 

“okay.” you force a smile on your face before standing up. “im gonna walk home. see you thursday for pizza night!”

“y/n, wait-” rafe tries to call you back, but you’ve already disappeared into the house.

--

you struggle to knock on the door with the pizza boxes in your arms. usually its unlocked, or rafe is there to open it for you the second your car pulls in the driveway.

“shit.” rafe opens the door, his face pale.

“what?” you shove past him, needing to set the cardboard boxes down.

you walk into the kitchen, going to place the boxes down on the counter when you realize there is already a box sitting there, opened up with a couple slices missing. you carefully slide the boxes out of your arms onto the marble before looking at rafe.

“i-i forgot-” rafe says as you look into the living room, seeing callie sat on the couch, her eyes on the television screen as she takes a bite of pizza. 

“you forgot about our pizza night?” you question, not even trying to hide your tears this time as they form in your eyes.

“i just didn’t realize it was thursday, y/n i-”

“its fine.” you shake your head, heading towards the door. you need to leave before your emotions explode. 

“y/n, please.” rafe grabs your hand right as you reach for the doorknob.

“no.” you turn around to look at rafe, knowing that there are tears streaming down your cheeks, yet you still attempt to force a smile. “no, go. have fun with her.”

you pull out of his grasp and leave, rafe standing on the front porch watching you drive away.

--

“coming to the party?” callie asks, wearing a tiny dress with high heels, showing off her flawless legs.

“nah.” you shake your head. “im feeling kinda tired.” 

“alright.” callie frowns, but doesn’t push you any farther as she walks towards the front door, looking back once before leaving. 

you are genuinely tired. you stayed up all last night waiting to hear callie arrive back at your house from rafes. she didn’t get home until 10 in the morning the next day. you know rafe has slept with girls before, but usually when he’s way too drunk after a party, and never with a girl you considered your friend.

you turn the tv on to a random channel, just needing something to distract yourself and stop you from crying again.

hours tick by as the sun sets, your eyes burning from staring at the television and holding back tears when a sudden knock on the door makes you jump.

you stand up, hoping its rafe, hoping he’s coming to apologize and to put all his attention back on you. you feel bad when you open the door and see its topper, your face no doubt giving away your disappointment.

“y/n, are you okay?” he asks. “you aren’t at the party.” he states the obvious as you stand in your sweatpants and a flimsy tanktop.

“just not feeling it.” you shrug. 

“is it… callie and rafe?” topper asks. he doesn’t need you to confirm as tears well in your eyes.

“i-i like him. i didn’t even realize until i saw them together.” you finally admit it to yourself why you’re so upset. 

“shit.” topper pulls you into a hug as you cry into his shirt, glad for his comfort as he rubs his hand up and down your back, hoping he can help you feel better.

“i shouldn’t be telling you this…” topper sighs. “but kelce has a crush on you. if you want to go to the party and… i don’t know, make rafe jealous back.”

“he won’t get jealous.” you shake your head. “he likes her.”

topper just stares at you with a look of pity. so in your head about your friendship that you can’t even put together the pieces that rafe likes you back.

you look down at your outfit. honestly, you can’t even manage to put on anything other than your crocs, you’re not going to change into a dress and heels just to dance up on a guy you don’t even really like.

“just come wearing that.” topper says, sensing your apprehension. “im serious, you look good. it’ll show how different you are then all the other girls there.”

you look back into your house at your couch, the tv still turned on before looking back to topper. he nods at you with encouragement.

“i need to get drunk immediately.” you tell him as he laughs, pulling you out the door.

--

you let out a groan as you turn over, snuggling into water warm body is wrapped around you as sleep slowly clears from your head.

“good morning, beautiful.” kelce says, making you blink your eyes open as the memories of last night come back, of ignoring rafe and callie dancing together as you move to kelce. topper was beyond right about the outfit as you captured the eye of most of the guys there, especially rafe as he tried to get your attention, but you were up in kelces room before he could steal you away.

it felt good to sleep with kelce, but not completely right.

“morning.” you smile. kelce is handsome, especially with the warm morning light shining in on the two of you, but your heart hurts as you wish it was rafes face you were looking into.

“can i have you again?” kelce asks, reaching down to grab your ass.

“yeah.” you nod with a smile. another distraction won’t hurt.

--

“where were you?” rafe asks as you arrive home, not expecting to see him snuggled up to callie on the couch.

“sleeping with kelce.” you say with a shrug. if rafe isn’t gonna hide his relationship with callie, you certainly aren’t going to hide what you were doing either.

“he doesn’t care about you, y/n.” rafe stands up, callies face shifting to one of worry as she looks between the two of you, realization sinking in. “he just wants to sleep with you.”

“okay, and?” you laugh, a bitter, spiteful laugh. “he’s got a big dick, and maybe i just wanted to sleep with him too.” 

you stomp away towards your room, blaring music from your speaker the second you’re inside. you don’t want to hear any noise rafe and callie might make as you flop down on your bed, quickly falling asleep despite the blaring music.

--

the music being turned down wakes you up as someone sits on your bed. you groan and turn onto your back, expecting to see rafe.

“callie?” you question, glancing at the bag slung over his shoulder and the suitcase sitting in your open doorway. 

you sit up quickly. “are you going to stay with rafe?”

“no.” she says with a gentle laugh and shake of her head. “im going back to florida.”

“what?” you question. 

“i didn’t mean to come between you and him. i thought you didn’t like him. i… i don’t want this to ruin our friendship, so i’m leaving. he was fun to be with, but it was never serious for either of us. he’s serious about you.”

the words sink in as you look to her with hope in your eyes. “you talked to him about it?”

“i did.” she smiles with a gentle nod, glancing towards the clock on your nightstand. “the taxi is waiting outside to take me to the airport.”

you shoot forward to wrap your arms around callie, pulling her into a tight hug. “thank you.” 

“of course.” she holds you back just as tight. “come visit me in florida, okay?” 

you nod enthusiastically before she gets up to leave. 

--

“finally.” topper sighs with relief as he opens the door to tanneyhill. “i’ve been trying to get him to go over and talk to you for the past four hours.” topper pulls you inside before you can even react. “seriously, you guys just need to date already. he slept with callie, you slept with kelce, and now you’re even. go make out.” topper shoves you into the living room before fleeing.

it takes a second for rafe to look up, his eyes red with tears.

“i had no clue.” rafe shakes his head. “i had no clue you liked me. i never would have done anything with callie if i knew. i thought i’d never get to have you, so i thought settling for your friend would be the next best thing.”

“i don’t like you.” you say before quickly clarifying. “i love you, rafe.”

rafe is standing and making his way towards you so quickly that you don’t even process his movements until his lips meet yours in a fierce kiss.

you hesitate for a moment before kissing back, feeling his arms wrap around your body, holding you tight to him, not allowing you to escape or leave ever again.

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[schlattslonghairytoes]

across the way🚪📖 🖌️

A.P calc teacher schlatt x A.P studio art teacher reader

moving to a new school as a art teacher is an extremely difficult shift, especially when your class is in the middle of the math wing, far from all the other art teachers

so meeting new friends at this school is particularly difficult

until a lesson plan needed for 5th period requires you to use the math teachers printer one early morning

“Hey, can you help me with this?” you asked the tall muttonchopped man next to you, seemingly making a cup of coffee.

“yeah no problem, let me see” after a few seconds he fixes the printer, and your lessons begin to continue printing. “the ink was loaded in wrong" he chuckles "are ya’ the new A.P art teacher?” you smile up at him and nod.

“and if ya’ don't mind me asking what is it you teach?" you say.

“A.P Calculus. why’d they place you in the math wing?"

the conversation continues and it's very pleasant, you keep talking and realize your classes are no joke across the hall from each other

your friendship starts off slow, only talking during breaks or occasionally borrowing things from each other, considering your subjects barely align 

until one day you're busy making him and some other art teachers you became friends with paintings for their room, and in conversation you remember him liking orcas, and that his room is very bare and needs some decor

so when he waltzes into your room to borrow yet another ruler (of which he definitely has enough but we can look past) and sees the painting, yea he asks for your number soon after.

from then on the only art in his room is made by you or his students

weeks pass and your becoming very close friends, but it never goes past that, strictly school.

until one day during your free period that you share with your new best friend Mrs. Haynes (Sabrina), the recently hired health teacher, tells you something she heard in passing

"okay so you know the hot videography teacher? yeah Mr. Nivision, yeah turns out him, Mr. Keane, and Mr. Schaltt are like close friends." shes is such a gossip, she began opening up her lunch, but before she started yapping you cut her off.

"okay, now quick detour what does this have to do with me?" you joke as you continue reading over your students essays, your class was currently doing art history, which was your major in college. so naturally you were having fun.

"well you will never guess what schlatt said about you!" your eyes widen and you begin to speak but sabrina shuts you up. "its not anything bad, quite the oposide actually!"

"he said youre hot as fuck." you almost spit your coffee out when she said that.

now you werent sure what to do with this information

i mean sabrina had heard it from tuckers wife Emma, who had heard it from tucker, which tucker heard from ted, and ted, the primary source, was told by schlatt himself

you felt like you were a highschooler again

but all you were sure of is you didnt want to make this awkward

by the time halloween rolls around a bunch of teachers had made plans to hang out

schlatt had offered to host everyone he deemed cool enough, which to your luck included you

the only problem was that halloween was three days away, and niether of you had made a costume yet

so the day before halloweekend, while you were actively teaching a class may i add, Mr. schlatt knocked on your door.

"hey jay, whats up?" you opened the door for the giant infront of you

"can i come in?" before you could even respond he already began walking into your class, saying hi to students he recognized

you werent fully worried about your class watching you talk to schlatt, except for one table right up front

it was a table of six girls, who in the span of two months had become the equivilent of little sisters to you, you knew everything about them, and in turn they knew everything about you

that included the time you accidentaly mentioned your small crush on the 6'3 calc teacher across the hall.

but god you really hoped they had forgotten about that

"so ive been meaning to ask you a question." he said looking around your room, seemingly taking it all in.

"shoot away" you smiled up at him

"well i still dont have a costume for Saturday and to my knowledge you dont either?" he asked

"no i dont, why you wanna match with me mr schlatt?" you tease lightly, and he laughs

"yeah, i would, only if you also want to?' he raised a brow softly

"i get to pick it." you demand quietly

he begins walking out the class, not before leaving a "that was a given." smiling and closing the door softly behind him.

when you hear the giggling and snorting of your six favorite sophomores, you sigh.

your fucked.

[avianyuh]

Boring | Min Yoongi

{Chapter One} {Chapter Two} {Chapter Three} {Chapter Four} Chapter Five

Summary: Your love life is going great, but you start to feel bad leaving out such an important part of your life from friends. You want to come clean about your relationship, but Yoongi seems hesitant to let anyone know.

Though your relationship with Yoongi was basically all you had ever hoped it’d be (and more), you had one little problem. The two of you had been in a serious relationship for about three months. In that time, you had told only one person, your mother. And though she had seemed excited for you as you spoke over the phone about a month into the relationship, she expressed her concern for you considering you were in a relationship with your boss. 

“What if you get in a fight? Or worse, what if you break up? Will you have to find a new job?”, she questioned. And though she had every right to ask you these tough questions, they were simply things that you just didn’t want to think about. But, you had to admit that in the very back of your mind, there were those little doubtful questions that kept you up at night sometimes. 

“Mom, I don’t even want to think about that. Even if things didn’t work out, I would hope we’d be in a good enough place where we could just be friends…”, you trailed off as you leaned against the kitchen counter in your apartment. Yoongi was away on a business trip for the week, and even though he offered you his apartment, you declined, preferring your own smaller place.  You peered over towards the front entrance of your apartment, looking down at the shoe rack. You stared at Yoongi’s sneakers, neatly tucked in on the rack, sitting next to a pair of your own shoes, specifically a pair of your flats you like to wear to work. Things were good. You were happy, Yoongi was becoming more “tolerable” according to your coworkers and the best part was that no one knew what had caused the switch. The irony was, people kept asking you if you had any ideas as to what caused the change, yet they were looking right at “the cause” the whole time. You always played it off, shrugging your shoulders and taking a sip of your coffee, or scribbling something down on your notepad to avoid discussing it further. You didn’t want to test your luck. 

But other than the occasional existential thought provoking sleepless nights, you had another conundrum. Specifically, it was the increasingly difficult task of trying to hide your relationship from your coworkers. Especially your two friends, Gina and Hana, who you used to frequently gossip about Yoongi with. And though you continued to eat lunch with them and go out for the occasional weekend outing with them, when time for small talk came about your lives outside of work, you began to start feeling increasingly guilty about the massive portion of your life you were purposefully leaving out. After all, Gina and Hana were your friends, not just your coworkers. And to be completely honest, you were really itching to tell someone other than your mother about your boyfriend. It was weird, feeling the happiest you’d ever been, yet you couldn’t share it with your friends. Two people you saw five days out of the week, sometimes six. 

So one night, after Yoongi came back from his trip, as you were laying in bed, drifting off to sleep in his arms, you decided now would be the best time to breach the subject of soft-launching your relationship with your friends. “Yoongi, you know how I told my Mom about our relationship, right?”, you started as you placed your hand on Yoongi’s bare chest. His arm was wrapped around you as his fingers traced the curve of your waist, his movements went up and down. You had to fight the urge to close your eyes, as he was basically putting you to sleep with how calm he made you feel. 

“Mhm”, was all you got in response as Yoongi continued his hand movements. His eyes were closed. You debated if you should even ask, considering the fact that he was seemingly minutes away from falling asleep. But, the other side of you seemed to be telling yourself that it was now or never. 

“Um, I won’t be here around 12 tomorrow, I’m going for lunch with Gina and Hana, remember?”, you questioned. Yoongi hummed again, his eyes still closed. “They keep asking about why I’m not around as much on the weekends…I keep wanting to tell them but I know you don’t really want to tell anyone”, you trailed off. You looked over at Yoongi, noticing that his eyes were now fully open. 

“What? Do they suspect anything?”, he questioned, slightly sitting up, his grip around your waist becoming a little looser. Your heart started to race a bit. You didn’t want to upset Yoongi. You were still in the honeymoon phase and wanted to keep it that way for as long as possible. 

“No, no, not at all. I just feel kinda bad because I’m sort of lying to them.”, Yoongi furrowed his brows, giving you a confused look. 

“How are you lying to them? Have they asked if you’re single?” Yoongi didn’t seem to understand that leaving out something as massive as a new boyfriend could really hurt your friendship with someone. 

“Well, they haven’t asked but they’re under the impression that I’m single and I’m obviously not.”, you explained as you gestured with your hand between the two of you. “I just wish I could tell them, they’re people I see almost every day, that’s all…”, you stated, laying on your back as you turned the TV on. 

“You know telling people would look really bad. People would think you’re getting special treatment. And I have a board of people who wouldn’t be okay with the CEO dating an employee.”, Yoongi explained. 

“They wouldn’t say anything. They’re more than my coworkers.”, you said, a little disappointed. Even though you really wanted to tell your friends about your relationship with Yoongi, you knew that you had to respect Yoongi’s wishes. He did have a point, an office relationship would be a huge problem. When Taehyung found out that you helped Yoongi with the file instead of him, he was pissed at you. If it came out that you guys were dating, he’d definitely say that you got special treatment, which in your defense, wasn’t true because you weren’t dating when you worked with Yoongi. 

“Listen”, Yoongi sighed, “If you really want to tell them, then that’s your call…I don’t know them as well as you do.” You tried to conceal your smile as you wrapped your arms around Yoongi’s neck. 

“Thank you Yoongi”, you whispered, “But”, you pulled out of the embrace, “Are you sure? I won’t say anything unless we’re both okay with telling people?”You searched Yoongi’s eyes for hesitation. He did look worried, which made you feel conflicted about telling your friends. 

“Like I said, it’s your call. If you really think they won’t say anything about our relationship to anyone else in the office, go ahead, I trust you.”, he explained, pulling you on top of him and closing his eyes again. “Now, can we go to sleep?”, he whined. 

“So dramatic”, you rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as you got comfortable in your boyfriend's arms. You gave Yoongi a chaste kiss as you rested your head on his chest, almost immediately closing your eyes and feeling relieved. No more hiding. 

~

You were sat across from Gina and Hana the next day at your monthly weekend “brunch”. In a way, you were nervous to tell them, mostly because you had been leaving out the fact that you had a boyfriend the past three months. But also that the said boyfriend is your boss. You played with your food as you pretended to pay attention to Hana’s story about the party she went to last week. 

“Oh my god, Y/N, you look like you’re not even paying attention!”, you looked up from your plate to find Gina and Hana both staring at you. 

“No, I am, I promise.”, you pleaded. Hana crossed her arms over her chest as she made a disappointed face at you. 

“Really? Then who was trying to give me a palm reading in the kitchen?”, you couldn’t believe it, she was giving you a pop quiz. You tried to answer as fast as you could to not raise any more suspicion, so you tried to recall who you remember being mentioned at the party. 

“Erica.”, you stated. Gina laughed as Hana groaned in frustration. 

“Whatever, I still know you weren’t paying attention.”, she said, taking a sip of her drink. 

“Then what was the point in testing me? I got it right”, you grinned at her. As Hana continued to act over dramatic, Gina tapped on your shoulder. 

“You know, you have been sort of quiet. Is everything okay?”, she questioned. Concern evident on her features. 

“Um, actually, yeah there is something I wanted to tell you guys. But first of all, you can’t tell anyone, okay? This stays between the three of us.”, You explained, sitting up in your seat. Your friends stared at you in confusion as you started to catch them up on everything you had left out the past three months. “So, I have a boyfriend.”, you said. Gina gasped as Hana looked at you in confusion. 

“What! When did this happen, you hadn’t mentioned anyone…”, Hana asked as Gina nodded in agreement. 

“I know, that’s why when I tell you, you have to understand that this is a pretty unique situation.” you said, giving them a serious look. 

“Geez, who are you dating? The president?”Gina questioned. 

“No, I’ve been seeing Min Yoongi for the past three months.” There, the bomb was dropped. You watched as their faces went pale. Gina claspedher hand over her mouth, Hana dropped her fork. You, on the other hand, felt a giant wave of relief wash over you. “I know it sounds bad because I didn’t tell you, but he sort of swore me to secrecy. I just had a talk with him yesterday and he agreed with me that it’s okay to tell a few people. The only other person that knows is my Mom since I told her.” you said. 

“But, why did you wait so long? Do you not trust us? Three months is a long time to leave something like that out.” Gina said, seemingly hurt by the news. 

“Gina, I wanted to tell you, but Yoongi didn’t feel comfortable because you guys work with him. He’s really paranoid that people from the office are going to find out and the news will make its way to the other board members of the company.”, you tried to explain. “I was just trying to respect his wishes.”

“Well, when were you planning on telling us? When you got engaged or something?”, Hana asked, also sounding upset. 

“No, guys please, it wasn’t up to me alone. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings…” By now you were starting to get nervous. You didn’t expect them to be so upset, shocked for a few minutes sure, but not genuinely hurt by the news. 

“Y/N, we’re not mad, it’s just a long time to go without sharing something so major. Forget that he’s our boss, we just know how hard it was for you to find someone in the first place, so hearing that you’ve been seeing someone is great, we just wish we could’ve known since day one.” Gina said, squeezing your shoulder in reassurance. Hana nodded in agreement. You started to feel better. The last thing you wanted was for your friends to be mad at you over your relationship. “Well…tell us about him. Around us he’s always so quiet and emotionless.” Gina giggled. “Oh wait, can I not say that in front of you anymore? Like, is it offensive now that he’s your boyfriend?” she questioned. You playfully nudged her arm as you laughed. 

“No, please don’t censor yourself around me. Trust me, I know what you mean by emotionless. That’s how he usually acts at work, he even admits to that.”

“Oh okay, so anyways, what’s he like when you're not at work?” Gina asked as you contemplated what to say to your friends. See, certain details about your relationship, you wanted to keep private. 

“He’s actually really funny. He makes me laugh, which I think you guys would find surprising. Oh, and he loves basketball and he plays piano. He’s really talented. But, he was a little closed off at first, but now he can get really clingy”, you giggled as you thought back to just this morning when you tried to  leave Yoongi’s apartment. He blocked the door and kept saying, “One more kiss”, which turned into maybe 100 kisses before he actually let you leave. 

“Interesting”, Hana said as she waved her hand in a ‘Go on’, type of motion. 

“He’s very romantic. He told me he was committed to me completely.” you said as they both made surprised faces. 

“Sounds serious,” Gina stated. You nodded as you tried to hide the growing smile on your face. “Realistically, what would happen if you did make your relationship public? Would he get in trouble?” Gina questioned. 

“I think the rest of the board would try to make him look bad. Basically try to say that he’s unprofessional for having a relationship with someone in the company. You know he’s the youngest CEO the company’s even had. He told me that a lot of the other board members don’t like that about him. 

“Aren’t you afraid that other people would say you have special treatment?”, Hana asked, now looking concerned. 

“Yeah, but I’d be more concerned if the board went over Yoongi’s head and got me fired. That would be way worse.” you responded nervously. 

“Um, not worse, that would be illegal for them to do unless it’s in your work contract. They, along with anyone else with an unwanted opinion would just have to get used to the fact that the CEO has a girlfriend in the company.” Gina snapped, which made you raise your eyebrows in surprise at how worked up she was. Gina had always been protective over you. “If you do get fired, I’m quitting too.” she finished. You both looked at Hana, waiting for her response.

“I love you guys, but good luck on your job search. I on the other hand, like money so I’d probably stay.”, Gina swatted at Hana, and you laughed as all three of you moved on to a different subject. You feeling relieved but at the same time, trying to ignore the fears of your relationship being outed from creeping to the forefront of your mind. 

[mikavlcs]

Absence Persistent

Pairing: Wednesday Addams x fem!reader

Summary: You’re physically affectionate with everybody except for Wednesday, and she’s determined to find out why.

Warnings: soft/ooc!wednesday, yes that is indeed a warning

Word count: 2k

Notes: another late post lol. this a joint request, hope you guys enjoy! (especially you mom)

Masterlist

Physical affection was something that, for the most part, annoyed Wednesday.

Contrary to what many believed, she did not hate it (though if you asked her, she would certainly say she did). She simply didn’t crave it the way so many others did. It was fine in small increments but after a while, it made her uncomfortable.

So while she wasn’t against the very occasional, short-lived hug from those she was close with, it was just something she deemed unnecessary. Something she could easily live without.

Wednesday still tolerated it from a select few people. Namely her family. Her mother was still kind enough to stay at arm’s reach most of the time, but her father was overbearing even when he was trying to tone his affections down. Pugsley was allowed small 10-15 second hugs because he was weak and he needed it.

Enid somehow wormed her way onto that list of people, mostly because she just couldn’t help herself. She was allowed a maximum of 30 seconds worth of physical contact per day, and once that was spent, Wednesday had no qualms about shoving her off.

Though you were close with Enid, you fell into the same category as her mother—seeming to understand and respect her need for personal space.

It was one of the things that drew her to you at first, something that eventually made her (marginally) more willing to close the gap between you two emotionally and allow you behind her walls piece by piece.

She was half convinced that after confessing your feelings, you would switch on her. That you would want to hold hands or hug or, god forbid, cuddle.

However, that didn’t happen. Even after your romantic relationship with her began, you never expected affection from her. You still maintained that distance.

When you sat next to her during class or lunch, you made sure there was ample room between you so your legs or arms never touch hers. While studying, you sat across from her, textbooks and worksheets taking up the void between.

It was amazing, easily one of her favorite parts of your relationship. The fact that you respected her space without any complaints only made you more attractive in her eyes.

Aside from the occasional kiss, you existed in a completely separate space from her. Always. And she liked it that way.

But then her own mind started to betray her.

It started small, with an insignificant observation. Wednesday had always known that you enjoyed being touchy with people you cared for, but over time she began to notice just how much casual physicality you had with your friends.

Walking shoulder to shoulder with Yoko between classes, getting piggybacks from Xavier, giving high fives and fist bumps to Ajax, leaning against Bianca during conversation at lunch, ruffling Eugene’s hair while harvesting a hive together—the list was endless, and it was frequent.

And only when she noticed this did it occur to her that you had never so much as brushed against her before, not even accidentally.

Wednesday found an ache forming with each subsequent act she witnessed, the gratefulness she felt about you keeping your distance slowly souring.

As embarrassing as it was to admit, Enid was a particular point of contention in this aspect.

See, Enid shared your propensity for physical affection. It was one of the reasons why you two were such close friends.

You and Enid were always physically connected in some way when you were together. Linking arms, holding hands, resting your head on her shoulder or on her lap while you gossiped about whatever trite drivel Enid put on her blog recently.

Wednesday hated it. She hated having to be subject to your constant physicality, seeing the two of you so unabashedly happy to be in one another’s presence, to see you so open in displaying it. But worst of all, she hated the way it made her feel in turn.

Jealousy wasn’t something Wednesday was used to feeling, especially toward someone as non-threatening as Enid. But the feeling itself wasn’t even the worst part, it was the way it fed into her burgeoning insecurity.

The desire to feel your skin on hers spread like a malignant cancer, slowly poisoning her mind, body, and soul.

She grew to hate the ever-present space between you two, silently wishing you would bridge the gap and brush your shoulder or arm against hers in the halls, intertwine your fingers between hers while studying, or wrap your arms around her in the solitude of your dorm.

Anything to alleviate the growing want within her.

But she could never find the words. Try as she might, Wednesday just couldn’t find the right time, the right place, the right circumstance. And on the rare occasions that she did, her voice caught in her throat, whatever words she had on her tongue dying in the face of the seemingly insurmountable chasm between you and her.

So she could only sit, wait, and watch from across the rift until her emotions finally boiled over and pushed her into action.

-

Weekly study sessions were something Wednesday routinely looked forward to.

It was a tradition that began mere months after she met you. At first, she simply needed a study partner and no one else was willing to go at her (completely reasonable) pace except for you.

You, who said that very first day that you would always go at her pace, a sentiment that you continued to echo even now, months into your relationship.

Usually, these sessions would be in the Weathervane, tucked into her favorite booth in the back corner together for hours on end, talking about so much more than schoolwork. But recently, having the table separating you from her was agonizing; it was like a physical manifestation of the distance between you.

She couldn’t deal with it anymore, so she began inviting you to study in her dorm. It wasn’t quite as pleasant as the café but she was willing to sacrifice comfort to get even an inch closer to you.

And yet, she was no closer than before.

Because even now, you were staying away from her. Keeping the books between you as you sat across from her on the floor. Even without the physical barrier of the table, there remained an immovable expanse of space between you that she just couldn't get rid of.

You were so close yet still so far and Wednesday could no longer take it.

“Do you not care for me as much as you do your friends?” Not the most articulate way to put it, but it was to the point, and it effectively got your attention.

Your head shot up with a whiplash-inducing urgency, brows furrowed and eyes wide with a concern that permeated your tone. “What? Of course I do, Wednesday. Why would you think I didn’t?”

“It’s just-” She cut herself off, her point not quite coming together correctly. Wednesday never struggled with her words. She was a writer, after all. So the sudden trouble she was having annoyed her greatly. Stubbornly, she started again. “You always…touch them. You said yourself that it’s how you show that you care for someone, but you never touch me. You never show me that you care for me like that.”

“Wednes-“ you began, but she didn’t notice, plowing on with her thoughts.

“Did I do something? Have I upset you? Do I repel you somehow?” The way her voice shook at the end nearly made her look away, the sudden show of insecurity exceedingly humiliating. But she needed to know what was wrong.

“No, no, you haven’t done anything to upset me,” you said, shaking your head quickly. The words did little to ease Wednesday’s mind.

“Then why don’t you show me the same physicality you show them?” she asked, voice lowering to a near whisper.

“Well, I’ve seen how uncomfortable you get whenever Enid tries to touch you too much. So I tried my best to avoid any contact with you so you didn’t begin to resent me for subjecting you to something that you hate,” you sighed, posture deflating slightly. “I just didn’t want to do anything to drive you away from me.”

Conflicting emotions coursed through Wednesday.

The revelation that you were constantly abstaining from something you loved for her was…undeniably sweet. But it was also terrifying—the fact that you were willing to change something so fundamental to yourself as the way you showed love for her perceived comfort.

Wednesday had never met anyone outside her family that cared for her so much that they would alter their behavior for her benefit. And, admittedly, she wasn’t sure what to do now that she had.

In the end, all she could muster was a distantly mumbled, “I see.”

Almost immediately, she was swept back into her head, conflicted again.

On one hand, this was completely uncharted territory. Hugging Enid of her own accord once was one thing, but wanting to do things like that with you constantly was something else, something unfamiliar. Something that, if she was honest, she wasn’t sure she was aptly prepared for.

But she was Wednesday Addams. She had stood up to Tyler after his betrayal, faced Thornhill alone in the crypt, looked Crackstone right in the eye during the final battle without fear. She prided herself on never letting insignificant feelings like fear stop her from getting what she wanted.

And Wednesday would be appalled if she allowed herself to be defeated by something as menial as this.

Fingers twitching, she braced herself to reach out to you, but you were already moving before she could.

Her eyes followed you as you stood, abandoning your open textbook on the floor and offering her a hand. She stared at it for a moment then slowly brought her hand to yours, inhaling against the electricity that coursed through her as you pulled her to her feet. You tugged her over to her bed and laid down, pulling her down with you.

You took a moment to situate yourself into a comfortable position on your side before winding your arm around her, softly pressing her back to your chest.

Wednesday was frozen, tense in your arms as she took in the situation.

The newness of it was overwhelming in a way she couldn’t hate. Her heart raced at the sensation of having you literally wrapped around her, your hold on her waist tender and firm and entirely disruptive to her state of mind.

Any coherent string of thoughts was muddled by the feeling of your thumbs stroking her stomach, the way she could feel your chest rise against her back, the steady beat of your heart reverberating through her, contrasting her own.

“Relax, Wednesday.” Your words vibrated against her back, and she found herself complying before she even fully realized what you said.

She allowed the feeling of your all-encompassing embrace to still her turbulent thoughts, letting your warmth seep into her bones and calm the frantic beating of her heart.

Minutes passed before she dared to slip her hand down yours, interlacing her fingers with yours like she wanted to do for so long. A soft breath against her neck made her shiver.

Wednesday wanted to stay in this moment as long as possible but again, her body began to betray her. Exhaustion weighed down on her, drooping her eyelids with an alarming frequency. Staying awake was becoming more of a challenge by the second, but she was determined to escape the hold of her sudden enervation.

As if you had a sixth sense about her situation, you shifted lightly, slipping one of your legs between hers.

“Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up,” you murmured, the light slur in your words indicating that you too were close to succumbing to the call of slumber.

“Promise?” she asked, uncaring of how childish the question was.

The soft laugh you let out tickled the hair on her neck. You tightened your hold on her waist, properly resting your forehead on the back of her head. “Yeah, I promise.”

Satisfied, Wednesday closed her eyes, the bliss of your touch being her last thought before she was finally lulled into a dreamless sleep within your embrace.

[projectcaramel]

Could you do a headcannon of how a game of truth or dare between the seven brothers go?

Thanks!

-- Caramel: Spoiler alert; the House of Lamentation would be destroyed at least once. --

How the brothers play truth or dare

Lucifer

Usually picks truth during his turn because his brothers dare him to do outrageous things like acting like a dog for five minutes (which, incidentally, turned out quite poorly for the dare-r (Mammon) because Lucifer bit him several times saying he was a hunting dog. He can be semi-playful when MC is present.)

A bit of a copycat in that he'll ask the same dare or truth as someone else. He's not usually interested in the game unless a) his brothers have done something wrong or b) MC is playing.

Under the circumstance that MC is playing, depending on their relationship status he will certainly use the game as an excuse to flirt. Which may occasionally lead to a more private game of truth or dare.

Mammon

Almost always picks dare because his brothers ask him pointed questions like "did you steal x from me a year ago" or "how much do you love MC" (He often tries to cheat either way.)

As per usual, he's in it for profit, so whether the brother asks truth or dare, he's trying to make money off it. Naturally, Lucifer drafted a set of rules, which was signed by everyone but the person in question to prevent something like having dares filmed.

If MC is playing, he has a habit of daring them to do things that he isn't necessarily prepared for, e.g. kissing his cheek.

Levi

Leans towards picking truth because he usually thinks words are less embarrassing than actions, but he surprisingly never runs from the challenge as if he needs to "win" truth or dare.

Many of his truths and dares have to do with Hana Ruri, though other topics unrelated to anime are not off the table. He once asked Belphie, who had chosen truth, to rate the last movie he made him watch. The house was soon flooded.

If MC is playing, he unintentionally tones down his truths and dares to spare them from embarrassment until someone points it out.

Satan

If he's in a good mood, he'll pick either truth or dare as a 50-50 split, but if he's in a bad mood, he will almost always pick truth.

He will dare Lucifer even if Lucifer has picked truth and proceed to call Lucifer chicken. Oddly, one truth he asked of Lucifer was "Do you secretly consider me your son?" (to which Lucifer replied: "If I had a son like you, just counting the number of times you've said 'I hate you.' wouldn't have been enough.")

If MC is playing and depending on how many ridiculous requests they've already gotten, he will likely err on the mundane side. Nevertheless, MC can expect to meow several times.

Asmo

Gets really excited and sometimes asks for both a truth and a dare at the same time so he can decide which one is more exciting. He will, however, cheat if he bites off more than he can chew.

Frequently asks for some hot gossip if he thinks that the given bro will give it to him. If the subject chooses 'dare', his standard choice until provoked (i.e. getting a particularly mean dare / having to confess to breaking Belphie's telescope by accident.) is to express some form of fawning over him.

If MC chooses to play, he will throw affectionate gestures like kisses into the mix, and that kiss does not have to be directed towards himself. By popular begrudging opinion, Lucifer also put restrictions on this.

Beel

Often asks his brothers which option he should pick, particularly Belphie, in part because he doesn't have much to hide, nor is he usually embarrassed.

Like Asmo, Beel will not up the ante unless one of his brothers makes him do something cruel. Unlike Asmo however, Beel's questions and dares are almost all mundane with a few uncomfortable exceptions relating to the brothers' pasts.

If MC plays, little else changes; dares typically consist of Beel just asking for favors like getting him snacks, and truths have a 50% chance of being questions he already knows the answer to.

Belphie

Tells Beel to pick for him, which is more often than not an alternating truth-dare-truth-dare pattern. He's usually half-asleep anyway, so does it really matter? He'll just sleep through it if he doesn't feel like it.

Belphie is almost always the instigator to the biggest fights both when asking truths and giving dares, and he is the most likely to make absolutely ridiculous demands unless it's Beel's turn.

When MC plays, whether or not he shows mercy purely depends on how much he's been allowed to use them as a pillow that week and what MC has already told him to do.

[hazbinhappy]

hii i saw that you want hazbin hotel requests ^^

can i have valentino dating/in a relationship with a very talkative reader please?

have a nice day <3

A/N: Of course! I felt this in my gut bro im a yapper like no other i hope i got his vibe right

Valentino obviously loves control and that starts in conversations so he’s not used to having someone in his life who can talk circles around him and dominate the conversation

It initially pissed him off but he never said anything and saw it as a power play thing and tried to talk over you

But you let him speak his piece before you went back to talking a bunch again

He may not get everything all the time but he figured out that you just like speaking

On days he’s annoyed though he will say “You’re literally talking just to hear your own voice! Shut up!”

You do go silent and leave him alone before he’s sending a gift your way (he’s shit at apologies but it’s the effort that counts with this dude)

On normal days or even the occasional good day, he loves to hear you talk! He claims it’s more interesting than work which is a big ass lie he loves his job, but the truth is he does love hearing you talk and it’s nice as a way to fill the quiet (especially if he’s having a smoke break)

Now of course Val being Val he makes the obvious innuendo or sexual threat here and there about you talking but you never take it seriously

If you talk a lot shout your interests he’ll have Vox help him search for it considering his eyesight isn’t the best (and I don’t think this dude is planning on fixing it anytime soon)

But if you just like to talk about random things he’ll occasionally add his two cents in on the subject or ask questions

But if you like to gossip??? Tell him everything in detail. He loves gossip!

But don’t tell him things about his employees if you care for them

[nixiliv]

Comfy

Author Ramble : Little story popped up in my bored head. Enjoy!

PS: If you have any tips on writing, do share. byyee

Pairing: Minho x reader

Genre: Fluff

No one understands the way you two communicate. A silent secret language through eyes and body language. When people get a glimpse of the way you two spend quality time together, they would swear you’ll have the same hobbies as elderly people.

But you both like it that way. You enjoy the times when you both get to have your calm, quiet routines. They give you security, they give you confidence knowing Minho is content with just being with you. Whether you choose to dress up a little that day or stay in your pajamas. He only cared that he was with you. Your “boring” days would consist of Minho making breakfast, you would occasionally join to help with. Your favorite is pancakes. He would stand close behind you, guiding your hands on how much ingredients to add. Getting you started with whisking the batter and then letting you take over, placing his hands on your waist playfully scolding his kitten on how much of a mess you are making. He takes over when it's time to cook the pancakes. While you cut up fruit or put together any sides, and get coffee ready. 

Depending on the day he might have to go into work for a meeting or two. Your work is hybrid so you might go into the office, or get to stay in and work in your home office. But if you are both free, Minho loves a good walk. A lot of the walks are quiet, only commenting on the scenery around you or talking about some random things you’ve both seen or heard the past few days. There have been walks of you talking about the latest gossip among your friends or coworkers. He listens enough to only add colorful commentary to the story. But he loves listening to you babble. The different inflections in your voice, how animated your expressions get. His favorite is the way you talk really low, telling the juicy part of the story as if the person or subject is within hearing distance of you.

A stop by your favorite coffee shop is one of your rewards to yourself for not complaining once about being too tired while out walking. You order your usual, in addition to a muffin. It’s a new seasonal flavor. Both of you opt for sitting outside, people watching for entertainment. Giggling to each about a conversation you both overhear. Minho isn’t into pda much, but he knows you like little touches. Like caressing your hand or playing footsies under the table. He secretly likes it too. When you link arms with him while walking or rub the back of his neck nonchalantly. He spots a cat, or more like the cat spots him. The feline, curious about the coo-ing, makes his way over. Minho, always prepared, pulls out a little treat, gives the kitty a few pats and it is on its merry way.

Before dinner with a group of friends, you both spend hours watching a couple of movies Minho has had in mind that he wanted to see. Him sitting on the couch with his legs elevated. Your head in his lap in a fetal position with various snacks strewn around you. One of the cats has made home cuddled up with your feet. His hand in your hair massaging your scalp. Checking the time to countdown when you need to get up to get ready. Minho suggests another movie and you are too comfortable to say no. During the credits he asks you to pick between another  movie. You pick something you both have watched a thousand times, each of you repeating lines along with the characters. Before you know it, your phones are lighting up with text messages inquiring about arrival time for dinner. Minho grabs both of your phones, puts them on silent and tosses them to the side. You feel bad, but being comfy and snuggling up with Minho seems more of a great way to spend the rest of your day.

[toubledrouble]

More pjo/hoo headcanons

Apollo kids exclusively work out with musics as a cabin, but they always argue about the playlist that should be chosen. Will uses councillor privilege to force them to pick country.

The Athena cabin has a projector for sure

Also, they have youtube premium because of lofi music

Apollo kids have been banned from using guns in training with others (they recreated the ten duel commandments from Hamilton and actually ended up shooting without missing the target. Now, they can only shoot on regular targets, not living ones)

Hephaestus and Athena kids are a living proof of the "an architect's dream is an engineer's nightmare" thing

There is definitely an Athena kid out there that hates math with a burning passion. Their mom isn't very happy about that.

Despite their rivalry, many Apollo kids have Ares cabin bffs - after all, they spend lots of time in the infirmary

Ares kids usually have a great relationship with their father - he is surprisingly encouraging and supportive

Will can definitely ride a horse and you can't convince me otherwise

Also. His mom has a yellow pickup truck with tons of stickers and a guitar on the backseat

Sally refused to use the subway ever since Percy was born (you know how the underground always smells like monsters and that's why Grover didn't notice the chimera? That was exactly why)

Percy used to cry in the seafood section of stores, especially if it had anything living there

Athena kids can achieve Eminem speed during debate, I will not elaborate any further

Oh also. They're not straight As kids, or at least not all of them, especially the older ones. I mean, the school system vs learning disorders? There's no way they're winning that fight entirely. They probably have the subjects they like and ace, and then the subject that are just there, and since they're not failing, they don't really care (yes this is about me getting a C from physics again, I hate physics)

Annabeth loves the "further is for physical distance, farther for metaphorical and father for emotional" tumblr post

Hera's cabin has a family portrait of the olympians, it's quite a bittersweet sight

Let Demeter kids have a scythe as their weapon of choice pls

Athena kids make so many lame nerd puns. Occasionally, a Hephaestus kid or a secret nerd will laugh.

Athena kids are definitely the type to fight the teacher about their grade. They will gather evidence that their answer is technically correct and either impress or annoy the teacher so much they will actually change their grade

All Athena kids have a resting bitch face (just like Hermes kids have a face that says they're troublemakers)

Hermes kids are naturally skilled at orientation on a map and in terrain

Hephaestus and Hermes cabin have once held a lock-picking competition (based on speed but also the amount of damage caused)

Every single person in the Athena cabin has seen both Dead Poets Society and School of Rock (and loved it)

For an absolutely nonexistent reason I think the Aphrodite cabin has some pro tip for washing blood out of clothes and stuff

Very stereotypical of me but in the Ares cabin, the strongest is the leader and their word is law, if you disagree, you gotta participate in a one on one fight of choice (it doesn't matter that much if you win, at least you still prove your bravery and the courage to stand up for what you believe in). Meanwhile, the Athena cabin votes on everything. And yes, they are proud of it. And yes, they have senate level debates where everyone uses whatever dirt they have on the others to win (because they probably know too much gossip without even really intending to) sometimes. Only sometimes.

Also. They have ostrakism which is basically a thing where you break a pot/vase/something, each person gets a piece and carves on the name of someone who is endangering democracy in their option. The person with the most votes gets chased out I think. Athena kids have changed up that part, they simply ban that person from voting for 6 months.

Athena kids with learning disorders. That's all I want to say.

Mentioning my previous 'Athena cabin has a Pallas cat' headcanon

Also Athena kids are the people who will point out historical stuff behind the names of places or companies (example: my country has a shopping centre called palladium, i instill the lore of the original palladium on anyone unfortunate enough to be there with me)

Apollo kids personalise their instruments - stickers, paint, carved initials, cool straps and other accessories, you name it!

They also have a whole row of those instrument hangers, yk what i mean?

[geniemillies]

Yearning For Spring | Ch. 1 | Tamlin x Oc

◇— Chapter 1 - The Green Handkerchief

Ch. Warnings: implied sexual harassment, implied animal cruelty (I swear not by any mc), things get extreme in Hybern ok, Hybern as a place should be a warning on its own :^

✧ masterlist

||◇|| Ch.2>>

Hybern Castle — Two years after the Treaty

Another party. Another night of standing beside his chair on the dais, overlooking the crowd of Hybern officials as they partied, their faces a mask of joyful expressions, their bodies too rigid as they moved about the floor like puppets under their marionette's gaze.

“Incredibly uneventful.” I hear Brannagh whisper beside me. Her twin mimics her dead expression beside her. Guess I'm not the only one who thinks so.

“Quiet. Don't slouch or he will punish us again.” I scold through gritted teeth and feel their posture shift at the command. “Just until past midnight and we are dismissed.”

I feel them sigh in unison before stepping off the dais to stand in some corner away from the throne, away from where the King might see them. Yet I stay still, unmoving despite my legs and neck beginning to sore at the lack of movement.

Just until past midnight.

The ball went on as usual, the music getting louder with each hour while the dance floor remained filled with rigid dancers. Wine continued to flow and stomachs filled and this party seemed to go on for an eternity.

I hear the King's laughter echoing throughout the room, followed by several others as they clash glasses and exchange vulgarities. Mainly discussing political and military matters that did not need a child's attention but I listened in anyway. Nothing eventful. The King would find a way to spin the subject towards his hatred for humankind to which his circle were more than happy to indulge him in.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask a servant tripping over a lady's gown, echoes of breaking glass did not do as much as startle the dancers but their nervous eyes dart to where the servant was dragged to the kitchens, crying and spilling his apologies, his voice muffled as the door closed and then– nothing.

The dancing and laughter did not stop.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask, the twins gossiping amongst themselves in quiet solitude. They spot me from all the way over here with pleading eyes, I want to leave. But I only shook my head and they already knew my answer. Not until we are dismissed. And with that, they continued to sulk.

In a corner of the ballroom, I spy through the tiny slits of my mask… Amarantha. With her wavy locks of red hair and a dark dress that outshined every other lady in the room. As always, heads turned as she walked, whether or not it was out of respect or admiration or fear, they turned their heads and I knew she basked in the attention.

Before I could roll my eyes and turn the other way I spotted— green amidst a sea of dull colours. Amarantha makes her way to a boy.. strikingly close to my age. His hair was gold in colour. Gold like I've never seen before. It is a rare thing. Hybernians mostly have dark hair but there is the occasional rarity born with red locks.

Right. The King has once again invited a Prythian Lord, our closest ally from the neighbouring island. The High Lord sits with him now in his circle of friends, bearing the same golden hair as the boy Amarantha’s currently harassing. I felt unease as her hand brushes against his shoulder, how he'd shiver and say words I could not hear. Stop, maybe. Most likely. Because she always does this. To him especially, none of the other brothers are treated that way, much less spared a glance by her.

“Niamh.” His voice jolts me from my thoughts and I almost flinch to his direction. “More wine, dove.” The King orders, slouching in his seat.

“Yes, my King.” I turn to one of the servants ready at my command. “Three more bottles of Crimson Oathe. And tell the others to fetch a dozen more from the cellar. We'll be here for quite a while.” Seeing as they're already drunk and craving for more.

The servant came back in a flash with what I requested and I hurried to the King and his little circle of friends. “Pour.” He orders simply and I could feel his friends’ gaze in my direction. I do as I'm told, pouring scarlet liquid onto everyone's golden goblets before pacing three steps away, standing straight with the bottle still in my hands.

They continue their conversations and I stand there until I am dismissed. It is the rule. I cannot walk away from him unless I am told so. Sometimes I thank the Mother for the mask on my face, hiding the discomfort in my expression. I never liked being too close to his circle. Do my best to avoid them, really. His group mainly consists of highborn Lords of Hybern, however few they might be, and military officials that control his armies.

I stay there with my head down, listening to their horrid conversations, unable to mute out their loud voices.

Then I felt it. Felt it before it could even touch me— the hand of an older fae hovering up my arm that I felt all the hairs on my body stand.

Go away. Go away. Go away. Go—

I grabbed his wrist before he could go any further, earning a grunt of pain from the older male. The conversation ceased around the King's circle and all eyes were on me and the death grip that was my small hand around his bedazzled wrist.

“If. You could refrain. From touching me. Good sir.” I do not look at him. I do not do as much as move. I cannot. I might kill him.

“My hand! My hand!!” He cries out. I feel his pulse on my skin, the blood desperately flowing in his wretched veins. I felt my nails digging into flesh, scratching against skin and drawing blood. I smelled it, rotten and unsweet.

“My King!” He looks to the King, hoping to find his aid.

But he only looked, a simple grin on his face as he watched red seep out of his wrists, tainting my own skin. “Niamh. Drop the poor thing's hand.” I hear a chuckle leave his throat. Being used to following his orders— I do just that.

“Careful with this one, Lord Galdiir. She is.. a fascinating one. She will not hesitate to feast on your bones right at this very table. Perhaps then we'll have a real show.” The King laughs once more and other people follow. He snatches the wine bottle out of my hands, his eyes wandering to the blood that smeared my palm. And even with the mask I spot his smile curling into a smirk.

“And next time I hope you'd be wise enough to remember not to touch something that is not yours. I will have your head ripped from your shoulders if you ever touch her again.” He threatened and the circle went quiet.

“Now.” He doesn't face me, only flicks his wrist. “Go.”

And so I left that corner of the room, my left hand shaking, the smell of blood that isn't mine violating my nose. I did not return to the dais and as I passed guests I saw a glimpse of the twins’ face, riddled with worry. Yet they do not follow me.

The music and chatter from the ballroom faded as I now find myself in the empty terrace just outside. I let myself breathe in air that I couldn't find inside that wretched room. Yet, not even fresh air could calm me down. Couldn't really call it fresh as there's always a rotting smell that came with it.

Because this place is rotten. Void of light, life, anything, really. It is a cage.

The terrace overlooked a large garden of shaped trees and bushes that formed a maze. I'm glad for the night's darkness as I knew the dead colour of the leaves in morning light would only sour my mood. At least the sky looks peaceful. Though, I wish the fog would show more stars. I could not even see the moon, only a blur of reddish white light.

I look down at my hands, dark crimson taint the my palm. I press my fingers to it, feeling it sticky and warm and vile. Then my touch lowers down to the golden cuffs etched on my skin, smudging red on it.

I urge to curse, to rip this stupid mask off my face and storm to my room. More often than not, I think about it. But I know the consequences of leaving the King's presence without permission. And so I suck it up and inhale the rotten air, rubbing my bloodied palm, willing myself to believe that midnight would come soon and I could return to my room.

But I sense a presence approach, quiet footsteps make their way to the terrace. Then the intruder stops, standing at a good distance from me.

I froze and thought that if I turned around and left it'd be considered rude. So I shift uncomfortably, looking to the side and to my hands below, glad for the mask on my face for once. But when I caught a glimpse of gold at the corner of my eye, I was forced to look to to the person who had interrupted my solitude.

It's him.., the youngest son of Spring.

He dons on green fabrics, golden accents throughout his outfit that matched his long locks that cascaded down his shoulders. He smells like flowers and morning after a storm. His gaze is fixed to the garden forward and I wonder if he felt my gaze on him.

“Good evening.” He says, his voice quiet and soft and nice.

I snapped out of my thoughts and did a subtle curtsy to the young Lord. “Good evening.” I was told to treat our guests from Prythian with the warmest welcome and yet I forgot to greet him first or address him by his name.

“Forgive me, I was simply–”

“In need of some quiet?”

“I've been in search of it all night.” He said, his gaze torn away from me again. There is a stiffness on his shoulders, a longing for home in his eyes. He does not wish to be here any longer. And neither do I.

“It was beginning to feel suffocating. In there. With all the tense dancing.”

I slightly turn to face him again.

“Sorry. I meant no insult. It's a nice party.” A nice attempt at a lie.

“No.” I hesitate. But no one else is here. No one to hear me speak ill. “It is not.”

I hear a pause, a flicker of surprise maybe. That someone actually has a mind of their own around here. “It is not.” He repeats and maybe I heard a smile in his words, a quiet relief that someone understands.

“Perhaps we could enjoy the silence together?”

I look at him again, my face betraying the look of surprise at his suggestion. I did not say anything when I looked away from him.

But I stayed. And quiet company has never been so peaceful.

My shoulders relaxed as the minutes passed us by quietly. I could still hear the music in the throne room, the sounds of the King's laughter and the clink of glasses. In the stillness of the night, away from the noise and commotion of the party, the gardens below lay silent, and the only sound to break it was the gentle breeze rustling the leaves of trees.

And for a brief moment, I felt respite. I don't know why. Maybe because of the silence. Maybe it is because of him and his very presence that brought a calmness that I didn't know existed. The air seemed more bearable in his presence and for the first time tonight my heart was at peace.

My eyes faltered ever so slightly as I fiddled with my palm, the blood now cold on my skin.

I never want to go back inside.

“I'm sorry that that male has made you uncomfortable.” He quietly said as I felt him extend an arm to me. So I looked and he handed me something..

A green handkerchief.

I stared at it for a good while, confused as to why I am being given such a present. Then I realised that my bloodied hand was still visible and he had seen my outburst earlier.

I take the handkerchief slowly, inspecting it as if it were a strange thing. And it was strange, this kind gesture. I felt my lips curl up into a soft smile.

I began wiping the blood off my palms, smudging red onto the green fabric. “I'm sorry, too.” I mutter.

“About what?”

“About Amarantha.”

He goes silent and looks away in discomfort. “She always does this.”

“I know.” I continue to wipe, fighting the urge to scoff at the mere thought of that female. “She does not take kindly to ‘no’.”

I hear no reply. As I finished wiping the blood off my hand and cuff I looked at the fabric sullied in crimson. “Thank you..,” I trail off, forgetting his name despite going through the guest list just hours before the party.

“Tamlin.”

“Tamlin..” I finish wiping off the blood and I hand him back his handkerchief, completely facing him this time, letting myself see his face through the tiny holes of my mask. “Prince of Spring.”

He only seems to look towards the cloth in my hand. “Forgive me but I do not know your name either..”

“Niamh.”

“Miss Niamh..”

I nod my head and offer him back his handkerchief. He looks at it for a moment.

“Keep it.” He said, reaching for my hand with both his, closing my fist around the piece of cloth. A gift.

I was taken aback for a mere second. I've never been given a gift before. Never had much to say thank yous to. Never had to be grateful. A very foreign and yet.. welcome feeling.

He closed my fist and my eyes failed to remain averted. I look back to his face to see emerald eyes looking back at me. An expression of gentleness that couldn't be found in the eyes of Hybernians. I wonder if there are more like him back on the land he hails from. More people with genuine smiles and golden hair. I wonder if he deems the garden before us a pathetic piece of land compared to the endless fields of flowers back at his court. And maybe if I look into his eyes long enough I could see a glimpse of what that may look like.

I felt myself lost in them. Because I’ve never really seen green like that. Green that swirls with other colours of the earth. Strange and pretty. Even Hybernian trees are of lifeless colours. So I couldn't help but let my gaze linger for a moment longer.

“I cannot–” I gasped.

I flinched, my back arching slightly, the words stolen from my throat.

'What–?'

I grip my neck as I felt something pierce through my back, to the centre of my chest. Like a sword, a needle—No. A spark. Like lighting from the calmest of storms—struck me, right through the heart.

I staggered backwards and I stared at him like he might've inflicted such pain on me, the mask I wore hiding the horror on my face. But when I looked at him again, my heart beat so strongly against my rib cage I thought it might've broken out of it. Every bone in my body seemed to falter into brittle stones as if every part of me was faltering then and there. I wanted to touch him, grab his hand and take him away–

“Miss N–” He reaches out to me, his face riddled with concern. But before he could touch me again I gathered every bit of my common sense and— disappeared.

I panicked and winnowed away, appearing in my room disoriented from the sudden shift of my surroundings, as if I hadn't winnowed all of me, my back hitting against a table as I breathed heavily. I fall to the floor and grip my throat, desperate to stabilise my breathing before letting that hand fall to my chest where I could very much feel the beating of my heart. I still feel it. The spark. Like it's sentient, living inside me, telling me to go back to him.

The thrill of that spark dies inside me when realisation sank, replaced with nothing but dread and fear as I recall back to the books I've read on the matter. The romantic, forbidden tales of fated mates. Libraries are a rare thing in Hybern, the King deeming it worthless to record our histories when he alone exists to remind every single soul in the island just how we were robbed of everything in the Treaty that happened just two years ago. He does not care much for stories outside of those that he only thought mattered. Education of the most basic things are not encouraged, instead he favours military training, condemning all fae, high or lesser, young or old, to be trained ruthlessly into military submission.

Father thought the concept interesting albeit useless. Brannagh thought it a curse. Dagnan doubts its existence. How the Mother bonds two souls together on a whim, on a baseless calculation that the two might work well together. And now she dares pair me up with the youngest son of Spring. Someone so different. So out of reach. So out of my league.

Someone I can never ever have.

She dares play cruel jokes on me. Or perhaps she is simply cruel. That would make more sense. She’s always been cruel when dealing with my fate in her hands.

I did not return to the party. I lay in bed awake that night, my head filled with nothing but images of his face. There wasn't a moment where I wandered to other thoughts, afraid that if I did I couldn't burn his face into memory hard enough. And a hundred years may pass and I might forget his face. The thought alone broke my heart.

The bond didn't seem to snap for him and I could only sigh out of relief. Good. It's for the best. I know well what happens to the things that bring even the smallest amounts of joy into people around here. He takes them, breaks them, ruins them in the cruellest of ways and he makes sure there is an audience to bear witness to his acts. I still remember how her growls of pain echoed throughout the throne room while my body froze, my eyes locked into the eyes of a direwolf I had secretly snuck into the palace. I stood and cried as she whimpered, the light, the life fading from her darkened eyes, her head rolling to my feet as I tried my best to hold the vomit urging up my throat.

The King does not like hope festering the hearts of his people. Says that hope makes way for want. A want for something other than what he has to offer. He seeks only for total control. That is why every waltz at his parties are always rigid, always controlled. He liked it that way. Liked puppets more than people.

He would ruin me in ways that will kill me slowly if he ever finds out. Because I was born into a life of servitude. Everything, even my body and mind, leashed to the King. And this bond swirling inside me, this string of fate.. He will take it too.

And so I held my aching heart as I closed my eyes. And in the darkness it's not a wolf’s head before my feet that I imagine.

It’s his..

I will take this bond to the grave.