#sun said something to soothe me then they showed me the art they got which with my brain looked like amalgamations of famous art works lmao

[bellalunadreams]

Okay hear me out, art thief Sun and Moon and art restorer Y/n

[bebethsas]

#I've said it before and I'll keep saying it until it's permeated through the fandom #steve is the mom #eddie is the dad #and chrissy is dad's super sweet, super caring girlfriend #that you WISH was your step-mom #but dad (the dumbass) hasn't proposed yet #despite you asking about him it every time it's his weekend with you

I wanna clarify/ expand on my previous tags with a few more:

#like dad, c'mon #my permission slip for the fieldtrip requires two signatures #and chrissy's penmenship is a work of art #you seriously still haven't asked her dad?? #what are you waiting for?? #wife her up already!! #and don't tell me that you don't think she's ready #she's READY #she's just waiting for YOU

#seriously dad it's a miracle that you bagged her in the first place #hey have some respect don't talk about your future step-mom like that

and she's not just a great influence on your dad (you've accidentally met some of his hook-ups before when they stayed too long and it bumped up against his time with you; so you know that Chrissy is the best thing that's happened to your dad in a looong time); she's great with you too. She's like a second, equally-awesome, bonus mom. She's fun, but doesn't try to be the "fun parent." She takes an interest in your hobbies. She attends your plays/ games/ recitals alongside your parents (heck sometimes she's stood in for dad when he cuoldn't make it). She carries fun band-aids in her purse. She gives really great hugs. She buys the good orange juice (the nice kind, not the stuff made from concentrate that makes you naseous). She took time off work (no hesitation, no questions asked) that one time when you were sick with a nasty cold during your week at dad's place, and hung out with you on the couch, and fetched you glasses of juice/ water and cold meds and a new box of Kleenex when you ran out, and watched trashy daytime shows with you until you fell asleep, and made you laugh so hard that you forgot you were sick, and kept track of when you took your meds so that you didn't take too many/ go too long without taking more. Also, she's just...really sweet??? And when he's not looking, she gazes at your dad like he's...idk, the sun, or something?

Also, she makes your dad really happy. Ever since she moved in, he's been looking better; he's sleeping through the night more often (fewer bouts of insomnia and fewer night terrors), he doesn't look so pale and haggard anymore; she got him to finally quit smoking (something he's been struggling with ever since you were born)! Dad's cooking more often than he used to, too (not having enough energy + remembering to buy specific groceries = you and dad eating takeout most of the time; which is okay, but you could see it was slowly draining him and his wallet). He's humming more. She figured out a way to orgaize stuff in a way that works with dad's brain, not against it. He's writing songs again (and if you so happen to glance at his notes and notice some lyrics about "red-gold hair" and "a smile that lights up a room," well that's none of my business...).

Sometimes she gets anxious over random, little things (you don't get it; it's just the bathroom scale), and dad's really, really great at calming her down and soothing her through it.

she worked out a schedule/ plan with your mom, because they wanted to maintain a healthy routine for you.

oh and your mom likes her too, by the way; she also likes to ask dad when he's finally going to drop to one knee and ask Chrissy to marry him.

In short: your almost-step-mom is great, and dad NEEDS to ask her to marry him already (seriously, just say the word and you and mom will clear your schedules and make yourselves available to act as witnesses)

CHAPTER ONE: THE HELLFIRE CLUB    ⮑ Stranger Things 4

[babydotcom]

okay i don't know if anyone's said this before but i think hakoda and bato's relationship is really important to sokka accepting his attraction to men. this absolutely got away from me so the analysis is under the cut. i'd appreciate it if you gave this a read!

we all know sokka sees his dad as the pinnacle of Manliness, and spends so much of his childhood and teenage years trying to live up to this standard he feels hakoda has set for him (whether or not this perception is accurate). he is supposed to be a warrior, a protector, a leader. he is supposed to be strong. this is why he represses all of his negative emotions, all his grief, sadness, rage, hurt. it's why he falls madly in love with the first sweet, emotional, kind, traditionally feminine girl he's ever met that he's not related to, because yue compliments his perception of manhood. it's why suki, a woman who is all of the things he thinks a man should be, is confusing to him. suki opens his eyes a little bit, because she is an attractive girl that also embodies manhood the way sokka thinks he should.

from the beginning of book two on, we see sokka be more honest with himself about his attraction to men, even if he's not so open about it. there's the boulder, chong in the cave of two lovers, and zuko (he was flirting at the western air temple i don't care. this isn't about shipping anyway). these are men that sokka textually finds attractive, so he knows he's not straight. this doesn't fit into his perception of manhood- hakoda's love for kya was incredible, so of course sokka would ingrain heterosexuality into manhood. he never voices this same-sex attraction (i know this is nickelodeon, but you know what i mean), but it's pretty much a no-brainer that a relationship with suki, who he perceives as being man-adjacent, is something he wants so much to pursue.

from book two on, we also see sokka sort of reevaluate this manhood standard by expanding his horizons. he finally is expressing himself creatively. first is the haiku club in ba sing se-- when else have we seen him trying to impress girls by meeting them where they're at, using his words in poetry to impress them rather than performing some act of machismo? second and infinitely more importantly is in Sokka's Master. the entire episode is about sokka proving (and realizing) his worth, and to him he is only worth anything if he is a perfect man, if he is like his father. for someone training to be a swordsman, we actually see sokka do little swordfighting in comparison to how much art (which for the sake of this post we'll consider traditionally feminine) he does. he never once complains about this, but his appreciation of the arts changes over the course of his training. for his first calligraphy practice, sokka tries, sure, but he doesn't take it seriously. he mushes his face into the paper, taking the easy, and the more brash route to the end goal.

he approaches his first spar with *checks notes* fat, the same way. he tries, but fails spectacularly because he takes the brash and easy route, making the most obvious first strike against his opponent. he sucks with the sword, so far. it's only after he takes piandao's painting lesson seriously-- or as seriously as he's capable of-- that he has any sort of breakthrough in his swordfighting. his development as a swordsdman, his mastering of a masculine activity and fighting style, is dependent on his acceptance of art and emotion and creativity, of femininity. piandao's training, his emphasis on the arts, is what made sokka a great swordbender. in realizing his worth, sokka had to accept femininity into his ideal of man.

back to hakoda and bato. sokka doesn't get a lot of time with his dad before the invasion on the day of black sun, because obviously they have a war to fight. but what time he does have with hakoda is spent spiraling over his worth as a man yet again, because hakoda has shown just how much sokka has yet to grow as a leader. it's neither of their faults, but hakoda showing up sokka at the planning meeting causes a blockage in sokka's growth, just after he'd reached new heights in sokka's master. sokka's back to feeling like shit, and this is compounded by the failure of the invasion. that moment at zuko's coronation, when hakoda tells sokka that's he proud of him, after sokka had been absolutely crucial to winning the war? that's means the world to him. his Ideal his proud of him.

i imagine that during the war, hakoda and bato weren't together. hakoda was still mourning kya (and he always will be, but the wound was fresher then), and then they were fighting for their lives. so, i think when they do get together, it's not terribly long after the war. sokka seeing them start a romantic relationship is what allows him to finally embrace his attraction to men. his father, his chief, his pinnacle of manliness, can love other men and express that openly. hakoda is the Typical Father in that we don't really see him actually vulnerable other than that moment in boiling rock when he tears up at seeing sokka, so to see his father in a loving relationship again, with bato, his life long best friend, would be incredibly powerful for sokka. it finally clicks that sokka can love a man, too, and that loving a man does not make him less of one. before bakoda get together, sokka probably fears ever coming to terms with his same-sex attraction. he knows that hakoda loves him absolutely, but the nagging voice in most, if not all, queer peoples' heads still makes sokka wonder if hakoda would respect him as a man if he were in a gay relationship, regardless of how much hakoda loves him. to have that worry soothed... that's everything to him, when it comes to his sexuality and acceptance of himself.

much of sokka's arc throughout the series is about deconstructing that idea of manhood he's held onto since he was a little boy, and redefining masculinity in terms that embrace the feminine parts of him that make him such a great warrior, protector, and leader. he is loving in his protectiveness, he is soft in his strength, he is creative and artistic in his leadership. sokka's development in this regard is incomplete by the end of the series, because he's 15 and nobody is done growing up at that age, but him getting his dad back, and finding that his ideal isn't really what he thought, has him on the right track to fully embracing himself as a man whose strengths go beyond the idea that he created as a kid, and whose love goes beyond gender. i just think that's neat.

[novaiya]

The Portrait of Charles Smith - Charles x Reader

Summary: Based on this request: Can I get Charles catching the reader drawing him? I feel like it’d be so cute to see him all bashful n embarrassed that someone finds him attractive enough to make art of. 

Words: 1369

Warnings: None.

A/N: Guess who just finished the Picture of Dorian Gray and is now making it her entire personality.

Your pencil was making swift strokes on the paper as your eyes flicked between the journal on the table and your subject. You watched his arms, muscular and thick, swing down as he chopped through a log. He used the back of his hand to wipe away the sweat from his forehead, and then reached out for another log, placing it down and once again chopping through it.

You enjoyed watching Charles work, doing different tasks around the camp such as cutting logs for the firewood, fixing up the old wagon or taking care of the horses. He did all those things with grace and ease that always captivated you and that’s why you were drawing him now. The way he was swinging down the ax captured your attention, the way his muscles flexed, and you couldn’t help but get out your journal, quickly scribbling down before he finished his chore.

“Drawing him again, aren’t you?”

You almost jumped out of your chair when you heard Tilly’s voice behind you. You were so engrossed in your thoughts and your art that you didn’t hear her approach you from behind.

“Tilly,” you breathed out, your hand on your chest, “You can just sneak up on people like that.”

“Sorry,” she said with a smile that said she really wasn’t.

You tried to discreetly push your journal to the side, but Tilly was quicker, snatching it away and looking over your sketch. You tried to pry it from her hands, but her grip was solid, and if you kept fumbling with her, you were bound to bring more attention to the two of you. So instead you huffed and turned your head to the side, not wanting to see her face as she looked over your drawing of Charles.

She said your name, making you turn back towards her. “It’s beautiful,” she said. “You have to show it to him!”

“I can’t, Tilly,” you said, shaking your head. “I have put too much of myself into it.”

“What do you mean?”

“If he sees the drawing, he’ll surely understand how I feel about him.” You took the journal from Tilly’s hands and looked over the sketch that you’ve done so far. “Every line that I have drawn is like a love confession. This drawing is nothing if not a love letter to him.”

“Love letters are meant to be sent, not kept in the sender’s possession.”

“That, you might be right about,” you said, closing your journal. You looked in the direction where Charles was chopping the logs, but he was gone now. You’d have to find another opportunity to finish the portrait.

It was a few days later when an opportunity presented itself. You have just finished your chores for the day, and saw Charles by the hitching posts, tending to the horses. He was, as always, engrossed in his work, oblivious to you as you took a seat in by a tree nearby, taking out your journal and drawing him.

The shade from the tree kept you cool and safe from the sun's rays as you sat against it. With the journal in your lap and the pencil in your hands, you went to work, continuing where you left off. The portrait, at that point, was almost finished, it just needed some minor alterations with the shading and the details.

Charles was none the wiser, you thought, as you kept looking at him, memorizing every detail that made him him and transporting it onto the paper. When you told Tilly that every line that you drew was like a love confession, you weren’t exaggerating. If someone was to see the portrait, they would easily tell that it was made by someone who loved Charles. The attention to details, to every freckle, wrinkle and scar, could only be done by someone who loved the subject, loved Charles.

“Tilly was right, it is a beautiful portrait.”

Your head snapped up to where the voice came from. Charles was leaning against the tree, looking down at you, a soft smile on his lips. You could practically feel your face heat up and your heart beat wildly against your rib cage. The mix of embarrassment and surprise that flooded through your veins was so strong, you felt you were gonna faint.

You turned to look at your journal, and then at Charles, stammering and trying to think of something to say. Should you apologize? Give him the drawing? Mount one of the horses and ride out into the sunset?

In the distance, the sound of camp could be heard; a mix of chatter, arguments, and laughter. But where the two of you were, it was quiet, and Charles swore he could hear the sound of your heartbeat against your chest.

He sat down next to you so he could better look at the journal in your hands. The drawing was indeed beautiful, just like Tilly said a few days ago. She pulled him away from his chores to tell him about the portrait that you’ve been drawing, and how beautiful it was and that he should see it. He thought that she might’ve been pulling his leg. A portrait of him? Who would in their right mind spend time to draw him, of all the people, he thought. Seems that that person is you.

After a moment of silence, you mustered up the courage and said, “Do you like it?”

He chuckled and replied, “I do, but…” he trailed.

“But?”

“It’s too beautiful, and I’m anything but that.”

“The portrait doesn’t lie, Charles. I simply captured what I saw.”

Both of you were surprised at your boldness, and Charles asked, “Is this how you see me?”

Charles wasn’t the most confident man when it came to his looks. He was confident in his strength, in his intelligence and his skills, but beauty wasn’t one of them. He was okay, he thought, not the worse, but also not handsome by any standards. So to see this portrait, and see the love with which it was drawn, to see all the details that you paid attention to such as his scars, his lips, his eyes, it struck him.

After a moment of silence you replied, “It is, Charles. You’re beautiful, don’t deny it.”

Despite seeing the portrait you’ve drawn, he was still surprised to actually hear you say it. The words left him speechless, and he found himself averting his gaze, a light shade of pink already making its way to his cheeks.

The effect of your words didn’t go unnoticed by you. You reached out and placed your hand on his cheek, turning his attention back to you. How could he think he was not beautiful, you couldn’t understand. You traced a scar on his cheek with your fingers; you wondered where he got it. You took liberty, and traced his lower lip with your thumb; his lips were big and plump, and you have caught yourself way too many times thinking about how they’d feel against your own, the same thought now coming back full force.

You wetted your lips by an instinct, the act not going unnoticed by Charles who kept his eyes on you the entire time. You raised your gaze, and your eyes met. The air was thick with tension as you inched closer towards each other, more and more, until you met, your lips colliding against each other.

Your imagination couldn’t do this moment justice; it felt so much better than anything you could imagine. His lips were soft and gentle against yours, and the kiss itself was nothing if not tender and soothing. Your journal fell on the ground, forgotten, as your hands made their way to Charles’ hair, tangling your fingers in his locks and bringing him closer to you, deepening the kiss. One of his own hands was on your cheek, caressing your skin, wanting nothing more than to memorize the feeling of you.

If the two of you weren’t busy exploring each other’s mouths, you’d see, in the distance, Tilly smiling to herself, proud of her work as a cupid. You’d have to thank her later, she thought. Maybe you could draw her a portrait.

[davidkarofskyindie]

inechoingsilence​:

“it’d be my pleasure, but I have to tell you - I’m French so I take cooking - and art- rather seriously. Just to warn you, it won’t be tossing something into a microwave and calling it cooking.” Acelin replied, grinning. To have a friend outside of work would be something to look forward to. While Acelin wouldn’t say he was a loner, he didn’t have too many friends outside of work and he wasn’t the most social when he did go out, which was rare enough in itself.

He had to smirk a little as Stan made a big deal about being called ‘older’. It was obvious he was being playfully dramatic about it all. “Have I offended you?” he asked, obviously playing along. “How will I ever make it up to you?” he asked. “Let’s find a seat, that sounds like a plan.”

Acelin followed Stan, looking around at what looked like a secret garden space. It was beautiful, and the noise from the rest of the campus quietened considerably.

“It’s incredible, so quiet you’d imagine you weren’t even on campus.” Acelin said as he took a seat on the bench. He chuckled as Stan told him the rest of the campus was downhill from there. “I believe it. If I’m ever late for a class, I’ll probably be here.” he told the other teacher quietly. Acelin adored little spots like this, places others tended to walk right by. He took a sip of coffee, briefly closing his eyes to enjoy the sun on his face.

“Thank you, for showing me this.”

Stan couldn’t believe how easily he found it just having a good time and hanging out with Acelin, in the short time they’d been spending together he was already having one hell of a time with the absolutely amazing man. He was just nice to talk to and easy to hang out with, he hadn’t connected this fast with someone in a very long time.

“Right? It’s really great for those times when you’ve got a few hours and just don’t wanna be in the office... honestly the only downside is during snowy weather this area fills up pretty quick and really holds in the cold but every other month it’s pretty close to perfect” he said, letting his head tilt back and looking directly up to see the walls of the tall buildings that seemed to go straight up forever. It was weirdly soothing in it’s minimalism that he was almost off in his own world when he heard Acelin speak again.

“No problem, nice to have someone to enjoy this with. Seriously feel like I’m the only one that likes this spot so getting to share it’s pretty damn awesome” he happily took another sip from his drink, crossing his legs as he just relaxed “It’s wild to me that this place is the least visited, I keep expecting to walk by here and see young lover’s sneaking a moment alone or something because it’s so out of the way but seemingly that never happens” he said, giving the other man a smile “So if you end up sneaking your partner here just text me so I know to avoid the place and not make things awkward, would be a very uncomfortable way to meet someone then” he joked with a bright cheeky grin.

New Teacher on Campus

Running a hand through his curls, Acelin took a look around his new office. It was a good size, enough for some comfortable chairs and a couple of bookcases that were already crammed full of various science texts. He'd put posters of fractals and other naturally occurring shape patterns up on the walls, and there was a dock for his phone. Right now, the phone was playing Einaudi as he sat at his desk with a lesson planner, laptop open.

There was a knock on the door, and he looked up with a smile for the man standing in the doorway. "Hi...sorry, is the music bothering you? I can turn it off," he offered, reaching towards his phone.

[watchyourbluesturngolden]

cats and babies

This is the first piece I’ve ever written so if anyone sees this be nice pls and thank u

There could be typos/ weird formatting, this was typed entirely on my phone

I also feel the need to say all of my medical knowledge is from Grey’s anatomy and googling things I saw on grey’s anatomy so this is probably not that accurate ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  

Word count: 6,160

Warnings: Car accidents, blood, angst (but with a v happy ending ofc bc sad endings are Not For Me), hospitals/medical stuff, again a very happy ending, I would like to emphasize the happy ending so no one gets scared away from reading this, did I mention there’s a happy ending?

"So, what'd'ya say? Chinese?"

They were deciding where to go for dinner after a long day of touring their favorite art museums. Harry and Y/N had been dating about two years now, and (cheesy as it sounds) they loved each other more and more every day. 

"Chinese sounds great," Y/N smiled, glancing over at Harry. The golden sun reflected off his curls, making him look absolutely angelic. 

He smiled, which turned into a chuckle, which turned into full blown laughter. She was confused. "What is it?" What's so hilariou- eyes on the road!!" 

"Sorry, sorry," he laughed. "Nothing, just- do you-" he breathed slowly, calming down a bit. "Do you remember the first time we had Chinese food? She blushed, laughing with him at the memory. 

Their first date had been... disastrous, to say the least. They had both been nervous, but both trying to act confident. They had decided on a nice, fancy, black tie restaurant, and Y/N was excited. When he picked her up in a limousine, she was hardly unable to contain herself.

However, their plan fell apart almost from the beginning. When they got to the place, a big red sign read "CLOSED FOR REPAIRS"

"Ooook... that's... weird," Y/N had grimaced. "What should we do now?" 

"Uh... we could... try the one a few blocks over? Yeah, that's a good place too, I know the owner. He always has a table for me. That'll work!"

Y/N hasn't quite cared about the wrench thrown into their plans. She really liked Harry so far, and she though he liked her too. So she chirped "Sure! Sounds great."

She hadn't noticed how embarrassed he looked when he opened the car door for her. He couldn't believe his luck! He was finally on a date with a girl he really liked, really wanted to impress, and the best restaurant in town closed with no notice? How could this happen? But he shook it off, climbing in after her and alerting the driver of their change of plans. 

When they got to the next place, Harry immediately got worried. It looked very crowded, and while the owner usually held a table for Harry, it didn't seem so tonight. 

He pulled out his phone.

"Hey, Luke! Yeah, I'm great! Listen, do you by any chance have a table-" He paused, and then his face fell. His voice kept its happy tone, though. "No, no problem at all, I understand. Yeah, for sure, a different night. Thank you!" He hung up, looking more than a little dejected. 

Y/N put a hand on his arm. "It's ok, I promise. I swear I didn't just agree to go out with you for the fancy food. We can go anywhere, 'Im really not upset!" 

"Agh, thank you. You're very sweet. But really, you deserve a fancy place. Only it seems everyone in the world is determined to make sure we don't get to do that," He huffed. "Maybe..." And he pulled out his phone again. He glanced at her curious face. "How do you feel about Chinese?" He asked sheepishly.

  Y/N beamed. "I love it," and there was no trace of insincerity on her face. 

"Right then, Chinese it is!" he found the closest place on his phone, telling the driver the address.

After a few minutes of eating, Y/N looked around the table for a fork. She could handle big foods, like the chicken, with the chopsticks, but definitely not the rice. 

Harry asked what she needed. She was a bit embarrassed to tell him she wasn't good enough with chopsticks to eat her rice, but he was kind about it. He helped show her how to use them without making too big of a mess. Still, she dropped half her plate on a napkin in her lap. 

At the end of their meal, Y/N burst out laughing when she picked up her napkin. Harry looked at her, confused, until she placed what was basically a full serving of rice on the table. He was also unable to contain his laughter, to which Y/N responded by throwing a few grains of rice at him. 

He threw a balled up napkin at her, and she blew a straw wrapper in his face. This escalated until she splashed what was left of her water glass on him. There was stunned silence for a moment, and Y/N thought she went too far. Then he looked at her and burst into laughter. She sighed in relief, laughing with him. "I'm sorry, that was too much," but she couldn't keep the smile off her face at the sight of the water dripping down his face.

"A little water never hurt anyone," he said, his eyes twinkling as he splashed her with his own water. 

Y/N was pulled from the happy memory of their first date when the car skidded on the ice. 

"Careful... if I'd known it was this slippery we'd have found a closer place," she said nervously.

"Nah, we've talked about this, the only good place is the one two towns over. I understand you love Minnesota and all but it is NOT the best place to find good Chinese food," he smirked.

"I will not have this Minnesota slander, not in this house. Maybe you're the issue, with your sophisticated taste and all," Y/N said, laughing at his disgruntled look. "Sophisticated? I took you for Chinese food on our first date. Nothing about that screams "sophisticated" to me." 

"Yeah, but we were dressed VERY fancy. That counts," Y/N laughed. 

"Oh really? that's what makes me sophisticated? alright then, you're right, I'm, extremely-" 

The car slid just a little too far for Y/N's liking. 

"Harry, are you sure it's safe to be driving on this? I think it's getting worse, and- look, it's starting to rain." She checked the weather on her phone. "Yeah, it's at that weird temperature where it's halfway freezing. The road will be worse on the way back." 

"I think we're ok," He reassured her. "The car has 4 wheel drive, and I'll go slow. I think the biggest danger is us not getting our Chinese food," he smiled at her. "Uh, no," Y/N said, rolling her eyes. "I'd say the biggest danger is crashing and dying in a firey car wreck." 

"Always so negative, Y/N," Harry laughed. "We're perfectly fine-" he spoke too soon, because right then the car slid again. A lot, this time. They almost slid right through a stop sign. 

Y/N clutched the armrest. 

"We're almost there, you better not kill me before I get my Chinese food, Styles. I finally know how to eat rice with chopsticks without..." She stopped halfway through her sentence because she was laughing so hard. "Without... dropping all of it on my lap." 

They dissolved into giggles, especially when Harry said, "got any more water to throw at me?" 

The car slid once more, and Y/N felt her pocket nervously. She had bought a ring for Harry. It was nothing too special, but it was the one year anniversary of the first time they had gone to an art museum together. She wanted to commemorate that with something special, so she had gone to the museum gift shop and found the perfect ring. It had a silver band, a little thinner than the rest of his, and a labradorite stone set into it. She thought it would complement his other jewelry nicely. 

She kept her hand on the little box in her pocket, careful not to make Harry suspicious. 

He wasn't looking at her, though; he was completely focused on the road. His hands gripped the wheel hard enough to turn his knuckles white. Y/N felt a little more nervous seeing this. Harry was an excellent driver, and he usually had one hand on the wheel and the other holding hers. He only gripped the wheel this tightly when he felt unsafe driving. 

Y/N looked out at the darkening sky. She was not a fan of storms, especially ones that make the roads icy. Like a true Minnesotan, she knew that under the right circumstances, a bit of rain could make it nearly impossible to drive.

A car sped past them, almost veering into their lane when it went over a particularly icy patch. 

"Harry, really, I don't know if we should keep going," Y/N said nervously.

"I know, but I'm not sure what we should do. I think it's safer to just keep going and hope the rain stops. We're about 10 minutes away, but if we turn around it's almost a 2 hour drive." 

"Yeah... you're right. It's better to just keep going. Just... go slow," Y/N said, biting the inside of her cheek. 

"Stop doing that," Harry chided in a singsong voice. 

"How can you even tell? you weren't even looking at me," Y/N laughed. 

"I know how you are when you're nervous, Y/N. Biting your cheek won't do anything but hurt." 

Y/N smiled. She had never had someone care this much about her. Someone who knew her this well, almost better than she knew herself. She was so hopelessly in love... 

She was so busy thinking about what she would say when she gave him the ring that she didn't hear the horn blaring. She looked up just in time to see the truck driving straight down the middle of the road towards them. 

She could tell instantly the driver of the truck couldn't do anything. He was sliding on the ice like they had before. Harry jerked the wheel to the right, moving the car out of the way. 

It wasn't enough.

Y/N heard a horribly loud crashing noise, and then there was nothing. 

Y/N shot straight up out of the bed she was in, gasping. Someone put their hands on her shoulders, trying to soothe her and get her to lay back down. She pushed the hands away as her vision came into focus. She was in a room filled with people and noise and 𝘱𝘦𝘰𝘱𝘭𝘦.

She panicked for a minute before she realized where she was. Clearly an Emergency Room. There were 4 doctors and nurses around her, checking her eyes, ears, reflexes, pulse, breathing. She threw her arms out to try and get some space. One of the nurses caught her hand, holding it in both of hers. 

"Y/N, you're alright. You're in the hospital. You were in a car accident. Do you have any pain? Whe-"

"Harry! Where's Harry?? I need to see him, I have to, I have to go-" She stuttered as she pushed the doctors away from her, trying to get up again.

  The same nurse held her back.

"Y/N, we need to make sure you're ok before you can get up. If you let us help, you'll be able to see Harry sooner. Can you lay back? Do you have any pain?"

  "No, no I'm fine, I'm ok! I need to see Harry, I need to know if he's ok! Please!" Y/N looked frantically around at the doctors, hoping one of them knew something. 

The doctor who appeared to be in charge ordered, "Someone go get an update on the guy they brought in with her. See how he's doing." 

"Thank you, thank you so much," Y/N breathed, finally laying back. 

"There we go. Do you have any pain Y/N?" The nurse asked again. 

"No, I'm totally fine. I'm- " Y/N brushed her hair out of her face. When are brought her arm down, she saw that her hand was covered in blood. "I'm bleeding!" She cried, panicking. 

"It's ok, it's not too bad," one of the doctors said, examining her head. "It looks like it'll need maybe 5 or 6 stitches. We can fix that up right away." 

Y/N closed her eyes. How had this happened? Harry moved the wheel, she knew he did. How had they crashed this badly? 

The doctor who had been sent to check on Harry came back into the room. Y/N snapped her eyes open, looking at her expectantly.

"He is stable. That's the important thing right now. However, he's been pretty badly injured. He broke his femur and clavicle. He has a small brain bleed, and he is covered in cuts from the glass. He's also pretty bruised from the airbag and seatbelt. He is intubated, because he was having some trouble breathing. He might need surgery to repair the brain bleed, but right now they're waiting and hoping it will get better on it's own." 

Y/N exhaled. "But... he's ok? I mean... he's alive?" 

The doctor smiled. "Yes. He's doing ok." 

Y/N finally allowed herself to breathe. She noticed she was crying but she didn't do anything to wipe her tears away. 

"Ok, Y/N," said the doctor stitching up her face. "I'm finished here. You need to stay here for a little while longer so we can monitor you. There is an IV in your arm to keep you hydrated. If you need anything, call for a nurse. Also, and this is important, don't get out of this bed without someone helping you. You've been through a lot today, but the adrenaline is wearing off, which might make you feel shaky. Do you need anything right now?" 

"No, I'm... I'm fine. Thank you," Y/N said, wiping her eyes. 

After he left her bed, she felt her pocket. She breathed a sigh of relief when she felt the ring still there. Then she mentally kicked herself for being worried about a silly ring when Harry was... no. She wouldn't let herself think that. Harry was 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. They were both alive, and they were both ok.

About an hour later, a nurse came in. After confirming that she felt totally fine, Y/N anxiously asked when she could see Harry. 

"I'm sorry, the ICU is family only," The nurse said. She really did look sorry, but this did nothing to make Y/N feel better. 

"I- I'm his wife!" Y/N said quickly, not even thinking. She most definitely was 𝘯𝘰𝘵 his wife. She wasn't even his fiancee. She slipped the ring from her pocket onto her finger, then held up her hand to the nurse. 

The nurse pretended not to notice the fact that the ring hadn't been there before, and that the ring was easily a size too big. "Oh! Then of course you can see him," She said, helping Y/N off the bed slowly. "I'll take you to his room." 

"Thank you so much," Y/N said, taking her first few steps slowly. 

"Careful- you're still attached to this IV pole," The nurse said, adjusting the tubing so it wasn't in her way. "You can hold onto it for support- yes, just like that." 

Y/N got more nervous with every step towards Harry's room. What would he look like? Would he be in pain? Would he know who she was? Would he... be mad at her? 

When she walked into his room, she almost started crying all over again. He looked, well, awful. He was covered in cuts and bruises. He had several tubes and wires connected to him, as well as a large tube taped in his mouth. He had a cast on his leg and a sling on his arm.

Y/N looked at the nurse who was taking his vitals. 

"How is he?" She asked in a small voice. 

"He's ok for now. He is stable, which is very good. He's unconscious, but we hope to see him wake up soon. You can sit with him, hold his hand, talk to him. If you need anything, just press the call button." 

She left, leaving Y/N and Harry alone. This time, she really did start crying. This was awful, and it was all her fault. She was the one who wanted to go for Chinese food. She was the one who picked today, the first wintery stormy day of the year to go for a long drive. And now.. 

"Harry... Harry I'm so sorry," Y/N said, sniffling. She held onto his hand, the one that wasn't attached to a broken collarbone.  "This is all my fault, and now you're... and I got off with nothing but a cut on my forehead, and it's not fair and I'm so sorry," She let out a sob. 

She continued on like this, crying and talking and crying some more, for a few hours, before she fell asleep in the chair next to him. She woke up around 9 the next morning with a stiff next and puffy eyes. She looked at his face, still covered in bruises, and kissed his hand. The nurse came in to check on him and told Y/N to go get some breakfast, reminding her that she couldn't care for Harry if she didn't care for herself. Y/N reluctantly agreed, going as fast as she could. The nurse had disconnected her IV sometime in the night, and she could move much faster without it. 

She got back to the room with her bagel and resumed her position in the chair right next to Harry. She talked to him as if he was awake, imagining she heard his beautiful voice responding to her. 

She had managed to keep the crying to a minimum today. She kept telling herself that if- no, 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 Harry woke up, she didn't want to look like a monster with red eyes. 

Her phone had been found by some paramedics, so she found Harry Potter and the Sorcerer's Stone online and began to read to him. It was a little weird, but Harry loved these books, especially when he was sick.

Y/N was used to just imagining she heard his voice with her in the room, but suddenly she heard something that wasn't her. She gasped. 

"He's choking!! Nurse!!" She yelled for help, frantically pushing the call button. "Help!" 

Several nurses rushed in. One ushered Y/N back and out of the room, telling her to give them space to work. 

"What's- What's happening? What are they doing??" Y/N tried to go back in, but the nurse held her shoulders. 

"He's trying to breathe over the tube, Y/N. That's a very good sign. It means he's breathing on his own," The nurse said, trying to keep Y/N calm. 

"Does- does that mean he's waking up?" Y/N asked, not wanting to get her hopes up. 

"Not for sure, but it's a very good sign."

After a few minutes, the nurses came out of Harry's room, looking excited. "Y/N, he's awake! He's very groggy and can't speak yet, but he is definitely awake. You can go in and sit with him again if you'd like. We gave him some more medicine for the pain, so you have about 15 minutes to talk before he starts going a little..." She made a swirling motion next to her head. 

Y/N didn't care if he was high on morphine. She just cared that he was alive and awake and didn't... hate her. 

Harry was laying in the bed, looking at her with great concern in his tired eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but no noise came out. Y/N rushed over to take his hand. 

"It's ok, they said you might not be able to talk for a little while yet. It's ok, I'm here, it's ok," Y/N said, smoothing his hair. 

Harry cleared his throat, coughing. He gestured toward the water cup on his side table. 

"Oh, of course." Y/N picked up the pitcher and poured him a glass, setting it in his good hand. 

He raised the straw shakily to his lips as   Y/N watched carefully to make sure he didn't spill. She gently lifted the cup out of his hands when he held it up to her.

His small smile was enough to make Y/N cry all over again.

"Oh, Harry," She cried, holding her head in her hands. "It's all my fault. I'm so sorry this happened, I did this to you- you almost died!" 

"W-what?"

Y/N whipped her head up. "You can talk?" She said, overjoyed.

Harry coughed and spoke again. "Of course I can talk." 

His voice was rough and it sounded like it hurt everytime he spoke, but it was the most beautiful thing Y/N had ever heard. 

"What are you talking about, it's all your fault?" He rasped, looking utterly confused. "What even happened?" 

With tears leaking from her eyes, Y/N explained all she knew, which still wasn't much. Harry remembered everything as she told him, both their eyes watering as her voice shook.

"Why... why're you crying? Does your forehead hurt? I can call the nurse..." He reached for the call button.

"No, no, I'm ok," She took his hand in hers. "I'm just so sorry, because it honestly is my fault, I'm the one who wanted Chinese food and picked 𝘵𝘰𝘥𝘢𝘺 of all days to drive 2 hours away and-" 

He cut her off by raising his finger to her lips. 

"It's not your fault... it's mine. I'm the one who convinced you the only good Chinese food is so far away and I'm the one who was driving. I couldn't keep you safe..." 

Harry had never looked so sad. 

"No!" Y/N exclaimed. "Do you not see me right now? I'm absolutely fine, you did keep me safe. You swerved out of the way... wait a minute," She paused, realization hitting her. "You didn't think we could avoid the truck at all, did you? You knew it would hit us either way, but you made sure it would hit as far from me as possible." 

Harry looked down. "I figured you're more important than me, I had to do what I could."

"Harry Styles!" Y/N whisper-yelled. "If you weren't so 𝘪𝘯𝘫𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘥 I would 𝘴𝘮𝘢𝘤𝘬 you right now! How could you do that? How could you put yourself in 𝘥𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳 like that?" 

"Oh, that's actually why I got so injured, because I knew you'd try to hit me for this," He smiled charmingly at Y/N. She just scowled. 

"Did you really expect me to just say, "oh well, guess she's a goner! bye Y/N! nice knowin' ya!" No, of course not. Of course I'd put myself in danger for you. Always." 

Y/N's lip trembled. "Why do you have to be so romantic after you do such stupid things? it makes it really hard to stay mad at you," She said, wiping her eyes. 

"Yeah, that was the goal there," He laughed. 

Then he caught sight of the ring on her finger.

"That's pretty, when did you get that?" He mock gasped. "Did you get engaged while I was in a coma?" 

“No," Y/N laughed. "It's funny actually. I bought it from the museum gift shop. I wanted to give it to you as a present, for the anniversary of the first time we went there together. I was going to give it to you over Chinese food, and it was going to be 𝘢𝘸𝘦𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 and 𝘯𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘨𝘪𝘤 and 𝘣𝘦𝘢𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘧𝘶𝘭." 

Harry smiled. "That's lovely of you, darling. Why... why's it on your finger though?" 

"Oh! right." Y/N sheepishly pulled the ring off her finger. "They wouldn't let me see you because I'm not family, so I threw it on and said we were married," She said, blushing furiously. "Sorry about that." 

Harry smiled. "Why are you sorry?" 

"Um... we're 𝘯𝘰𝘵 married... so... I don't know, I just thought you might think it's weird, or, something..."  Y/N finished lamely. She held the ring out to him. 

"Happy anniversary." 

"Why don't you keep it?" 

"Right, of course, you don't need a reminder of this day," Y/N slipped the ring back into her pocket, on the verge of tears because she messed up 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯.

"No, that's not... I meant, why don't you keep it... on your finger?" 

She pulled the ring out of her pocket again, looking confused. "Why?" 

Harry plucked it out of her hand, holding it up to her. "Because I want you to marry me," He said, slipping it onto her finger with the sweetest smile she had ever seen. 

Y/N smiled at him. "It's ok, Harry, you're very high on all the painkillers right now. I won't hold you to anything you say," She laughed a little. 

"I'm not... why would I be on painkiller... oh yeah," Harry grinned, looking around. "I remember why I'm high right now." 

"Riiight." 

"I might be high, but I still want to marry you," he said is a singsong voice. 

Y/N laughed. "Harry, why don't we talk about this when you're sober, ok?"

Harry pouted. "Please? Please marry me? I love you, and you're so pretty, and you're so nice to animals..." He started crying, apparently at how nice Y/N was to animals. "And... a cat! We can get a cat together!" 

"Harry, baby, don't cry, of course we can get a cat," She gently wiped the tears from his bruised face. 

"I won't stop crying until you say you'll marry me," Harry said defiantly, gripping    Y/N's arm. "Pleeeaaase?" 

"Ok, Harry, yes, I will marry you. Sure. You can stop crying now, ok?" 

"That's good, I'm glad, because you're my favorite person, and I looooove you, and you're my baaaaby..." 

At this point Harry was just singing random words, usually circling back to "baaaaby" and "looooove youuuu". 

Y/N felt happy for the first time in what felt like years, while really it had been less than 24 hours. 

Eventually, he wanted to see the ring again. Y/N held up her hand and he gasped. 

"It's so beautiful! I'll buy you a real one though, a real ring for our real wedding. Then we'll get a real house and have real babies, and a real cat," He said, with the dopiest grin Y/N had ever seen. 

"Oh? We'll have babies, huh? How many babies will we have?" 

"3," He answered quickly. "Two girls and a boy. No... 4. Two of each. That way they won't team up one of them." 

"Oh, sounds like you've thought about this a lot," Y/N laughed.

  "Every single day since we started dating, you know why?" 

"Why?" 

He motioned for her to lean closer.

  "Because I looooove you," He sang in her ear.

She pulled back, kissing his swollen cheek. 

"You're a sweetheart," She said affectionately. 

"So're you," He smiled. 

"I kind of like drugged Harry," Y/N laughed. "He's very cute." 

"Drugged Harry also likes drugged Harry, he feels like he's floating." 

"Oh, so drugged Harry talks about himself in the third person?" 

"He does now!" Harry smiled at her again. "Drugged Harry is tired... he's just going to..." 

Then the monitors started beeping rapidly. Several nurses ran in, bustling around and shouting various medical terminology. Another nurse ushered Y/N out of Harry's room for the second time that day. 

"No! No, I need to stay with him! I can't-"

"Shh... it's alright. They're going to do everything they can to help him. You have to let them help him. Why don't we go to the waiting room?"

Y/N exhaled shakily. If she couldn't stay with Harry, she might as well sit instead of hovering around the corner. 

"Yes, let's go to the waiting room," She said, after a few deep breaths. 

Y/N had been sitting on the waiting room for what felt like an eternity, but a glance at her phone told her it had only been 45 minutes. 

A woman in a surgical gown approached her, and Y/N stood up quickly. "What happened?" She asked immediately.

"Unfortunately, your husband's brain bleed did not resolve itself like we had hoped. He is in surgery, and for right now he's doing well," the surgeon said, looking sympathetic. 

"Ok... why did the monitors freak out? Did his heart stop? Is he going to wake up from surgery?" 

"The monitors went off because his heart was having trouble, but they were able to resuscitate him through CPR and defibrillation. It's too soon to know if he will wake up, but the surgeon is hopeful. I will come back to update you as soon as I can."

"Ok, thank you," Y/N said, sinking back into her chair.

  She felt a pain in her chest, like real, actual pain. What would she do without Harry? How would she live with herself, knowing he died trying to save her? 

She caught a glimpse of the ring on her finger and choked back a sob. Would she tell people she was engaged? No, of course not. Harry had been completely out of his mind when he'd asked her. 

She slumped down in her chair, wanting to curl up and cry. Instead, she called her mom. Through her tears, she explained everything that happened. 

"Oh, honey," Her mom sighed. "I'm so sorry. I'm on my way. I'll be there in about 7 hours, I'm sorry it'll take so long. Do you want to stay on the phone with me?"

  "No, I can't," Y/N sniffled. "I have to call Harry's family."

  "Do you want me to do that? I wouldn't mind, they're-"

"No, mom, thank you, but I should. I- I'm going to go. Love you," Y/N said, hanging up the phone. 

Checking her phone, Y/N realized it was the middle of the night in London where Harry's family lived. She didn't think she should wait, so she called Anne without another thought. 

"Oh, Y/N, I'm so sorry. We're getting the soonest flight. We won't be there until tomorrow morning. Will you be alright alone? Is your mother coming?" 

"Yes, my mom's on her way. I'm ok, thank you," Y/N said, rubbing her eyes. 

After she hung up the phone, it set in just how exhausted she was. She had slept poorly the night before, because of the awkwardness of sleeping in a chair and because she was so, so, worried for Harry.

She drifted into a fitful sleep where she dreamed of cars crashing, rings flying around, and Harry standing just out of her reach. He was like a rainbow, the closer she got to him, the more he faded. 

She startled awake and realized there were tears on her face. She checked her phone, seeing that it had only been 3 hours.  

She saw the same woman from before approaching her, this time wearing just scrubs. 

Y/ N stood to meet her. 

"Harry is out of surgery and doing well. We were able to repair the brain bleed. His heart stopped on the table," Y/N gasped at this, "But we were able to get him back. His ribs will be very sore and possibly even broken. All that aside, he is doing well, Mrs. Styles, and you can see him now," She said, Leading Y/N to the elevator. 

Her breath trembled as they walked towards his room. 

Harry was laying in his bed, looking like a fragile child. Even though he was so much bigger than her, right now he seemed so... small. 

Y/N looked at the nurse, asking to sit with him. She nodded and explained that two of his ribs were fractured and his collarbone would hurt him a lot when he woke up. 

Y/N held his hand with a featherlight touch, unwilling to jostle him even the smallest bit. 

After about an hour of her reading to him, she felt a small movement, barely even noticeable. Was it...?

She felt another movement. This time she was sure of it. He was squeezing her hand.

"I'm here Harry, I'm right here," She soothed,  moving her chair closer to him.

  He groaned sleepily before opening his emerald eyes and looking at her.

  "Hi," he smiled, squeezing her hand again. 

"Hi," Y/N said, crying more than a little bit. 

"What... did... are you ok?" Harry's brow furrowed. He seemed to have a hundred questions, but he settled on asking how she was. 

"Yes, Harry, I'm ok. How do you feel?" 

"Hurts," he said, closing his eyes. "But if you're ok, so am I." 

Y/N kissed his hand. "I see drugged Harry is still here? The one that is 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 cute and sweet?" 

"No, he's not. This is just regular Harry. I can tell because everything 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 hurts," He said with a small grimace.

"Oh, I'll get the nurse. They'll give you something," Y/N started to get up, but Harry's grip on her hand tightened. 

"Wait," he said pulling her back to him. "Before they make me go all loopy, I just want to say-" He paused, looking at the ring on her finger. "I love you, to my fiancee. I think it counts more when I'm not high." 

"Your- your fiancee? Harry, I told you I wouldn't hold you to anything you said before. You weren't in your right mind at all, I didn't even think you'd remember saying all that." 

"Yeah, but I remember asking you to marry me and you said yes. You might not be holding me to anything I said, but I'm holding you to that," He grinned. "You really want to deny a dying man his last... dying... wish?" 

Harry flopped his good arm dramatically over his forehead, wincing at the motion. Y/N helped him slowly lower it again. 

"First of all, you're not dying. Secondly, I don't want you to go through with this because you feel obligated, or because you think I'll be upset if you aren't ready to propose. It's totally fine, I promise, but why don't we talk about this when you're feeling better?" 

"No, I feel fine," He insisted.

Y/N gave him a look. "Really? You do? Aren’t you the one who just needed help moving your arm?" 

"Irrelevant. I feel fine, like, mentally. If you don't think you're ready to be engaged to me, that's ok. But don't say no because you think I didn't mean it. I did, with every part of me. I love you, and I want you to be my wife." 

"...Really?" Y/N asked, cheeks heating up.

"Really," Harry smiled. 

"And according to drugged Harry, you want to have a cat and 4 children." 

Harry laughed, wincing immediately.

"Don't make me laugh, my chest really hurts," He said, still holding her hand. 

"Sorry, sorry, they said you have some broken ribs. Also your collarbone. Also your femur. Geez, Styles, you're kind of a mess," You laughed. 

"Yeah, really," He smiled. "But seriously, will you? Will you be my wife?" 

"Of course I will, Harry. I love you so much, of course I will," Y/N said, gently kissing his cheek. 

"Great," Harry beamed at her. "Now that we've worked that out, can you get the nurse? Drugged Harry is ready to make a comeback." 

"Oh, right, sorry," Y/N said, reaching over for the call button. 

The nurse came in, giving Harry more medicine. 

"You'll start to have some relief within a few minutes," She said, leaving them alone again.  

"One more thing Y/N," Harry said. She could already tell he was a little more relaxed. "I have to get you a ring!" 

Y/N smiled, holding up her hand. "I already have one, remember?" 

Harry waved her hand away. "No, no, a bride can't buy her own ring! What kind of... chivalrous... gentleman... would I be if I didn't buy you a beautiful ring?" 

"Ok, Harry, as soon as you get out of here, we'll go ring shopping," Y/N promised. 

"And... to the cat shelter? You said we could get a cat... a kitty, a cat, a little kitty cat..." 

Harry had started singing mumbled words about cats and love and babies. Y/N knew it was going to be a long night. Still, she had never been happier.

[noctilucid]

DannyMay Day 7: Illusion

Star slung her backpack into the grass beside the picnic table and made herself comfortable.  The spring sun was warm on her back, and weedy little wildflowers were dotting the school lawn yellow and violet.  Paulina had convinced Dash to buy her a milkshake at the Nasty Burger after school, and therefore refused to leave school grounds until she had him in tow, which meant that Star wasn't going anywhere either.  She sighed, one hand playing with the charm she'd tied to her backpack zipper.  A couple of minutes ago, she'd thought to make the most of the time by knocking out some of her math homework, but now the day seemed too nice to focus on trig.  

"So where's Dash?" she asked, looking towards the horizon and letting the intense blue of the sky soothe her eyes.  

"Some football thing," Paulina said with a wave of her hand, not looking up from her phone.  "It's nothing official.  He said it shouldn't take too long."  

Star rolled her eyes.  They'd be here a while.  

She turned sideways on the bench to people-watch the other students as they filed out of the school building.  Mikey took his usual shortcut along the fence, hopping the lowest point into someone's yard to cut off a block from his commute.  Dale was carrying a white filing box home with him; it probably was full of old AV equipment he was hoping to tune up.  Sam, Danny, and Tucker were skulking by a tree, gossiping about something.  But then someone moving against the outward trickle of traffic caught Star's eye— Kwan was coming up the sidewalk towards them leading his little sister.  He must have picked her up from her elementary school down the street.  When he saw Star watching, he waved and crossed the grass to them.  

"Hey," Kwan said in his sweet, sheepish way.  "Would you guys watch Min for me for a bit?  We're going to go practice some plays."  He gestured vaguely to the rest of the football team out on the field.  Min had one hand around her brother's fingers and the other around the strap of her Sayonara Pussycat backpack.  

Paulina looked up from her phone and beamed.  "Por supuesto, mi princesa," she crooned to Min, motioning her over to the picnic table.  "How was school today, chula?"  

Min climbed onto the bench opposite them.  "Okay."  

"Did you get to do anything fun?"  

"I had art today.  We made collages with construction paper."  

Star half-listened while Paulina made small talk, watching Kwan jog out to the field and join his friends, continuing to fiddle with the zipper on her bag.  There was a deck of cards hidden in one of the pockets.  Star had been learning a bit of slight-of-hand from one of her cousins.  She didn't think Paulina or any of the other A-listers would be particularly appreciative, so she'd kept her budding talent to herself, but entertaining a kid would be a bulletproof defense against accusations of nerdiness.  She weighed the pros and cons in her mind until she sensed the conversation starting to wind down.  

"Hey Min," she said once there was a lull.  "You want to see a magic trick?"  She fished out the cards.

"You know magic?" Paulina asked.  Star shrugged.  

"I know, like, one trick.  My cousin's big into it."  She dumped out the box into her palm and gave it a shuffle, then fanned out the cards and extended them to Min.  "You ready?" she asked.  "Pick one!"  

Min deliberated, touching several cards before finally taking one.  Star straightened the deck while Min read her card.  

"You got it memorized?" Star asked, taking the card back and placing it face down on the top of the deck.  "Now I'm going to shuffle them all together."  She split the deck in two, placing both halves on the picnic table between them.  In her periphery she saw Paulina lose interest and take back out her phone— she had lasted longer than Star had expected her to, honestly.  Star took the bottom half of the deck, split it in two again, and made a show of fumbling with them.  "Hang on, I'm not very good at this…"  One set of cards went between her pointer finger and the rest of her fingers— or it was supposed to, but her hands were a little too small for that, so she supported the cards with her ring and pinky.  The other half she held between her thumb and pointer, so the two decks sat side by side.  Then, she applied pressure to arch the cards and removed her pointer, letting the cards interlace in a smooth, one-handed shuffle.  "There we go!"  While Min watched Star's left hand, her right secreted the card off the top of the other deck and into her jacket sleeve.  She smiled to herself.  Halfway there.  

She picked up the rest of the cards and did a few more types of shuffles to keep Min's attention.  Paulina looked up from her phone and paused.  

"Star," she said suddenly, with an edge to her voice.  

"What?" Star finished her last shuffle before looking up.  

"Oh sh—"  Paulina lurched in her direction, pulling her own legs free from the table and grabbing Star by the arm.  Kwan barreled in from the field, football forgotten, and hoisted Min to his chest in the next instant, running towards the gym behind them.  Star looked up as Paulina dragged her from the table, cards slipping out of her hands, and saw a streak of neon green headed for them.  Paulina steadied her as she stumbled backwards and got her feet under her before they turned and ran for cover together.  Star's legs buckled slightly as she felt the impact behind her and heard the table they'd been sitting at crunch, but she didn't lose her footing again.  

It took them three minutes to reach the gym.  Kwan had already disappeared inside, set Min down, and came back to hold the door, ushering them and the handful of people behind them in.  

"How do we turn this thing on?" Star heard Dash's strained voice carry across the room.  The Fentons had installed two ghost shields on school grounds, one in the cafeteria, and one here.  Their service was suspiciously spotty, however.  "Where the hell is Fenturd when you need him?"  

"He went home with Jazz," Tucker said, sliding in the gym door.  "You're lucky I'm still here."  

Paulina and Star headed over to where Min was perched on the bleachers and sat on either side of her.  She was hunched in on herself, hugging her backpack to her chest.  

"It's ok, mi amor," Paulina whispered, petting Min's hair.  "Phantom will take care of it."  Min gave a little nod.  

Star put an arm around the little girl.  As she shifted, the card, forgotten in her sleeve, moved and pressed into her skin.  

"Uh, hey, Min?"  Min looked up at her.  Star flicked the card out.  "Is this your card?"  Min's mouth dropped open.  "I think the rest of the deck got incinerated.  The magic protected this one.  It's probably lucky now."  Star smiled and handed it to her.  "You should keep it."  Min nodded and tucked the card behind the backpack, close to her chest.  Paulina smiled at Star over Min's head and put a hand on Star's shoulder, letting it linger for a moment.    

Kwan came and sat on the bleacher stair in front of them.  "You ok?" he asked, looking up into his sister's face.  She nodded again.  Then the ghost shield finally sputtered and ground to life.  Kwan visibly sighed.  

"Looks like we'll be stuck here for a while," he said with a reassuring smile.  

Min turned to Star.  

"Do you know any more magic tricks?"

[ineedsleepleavemealone]

Some random headcannons

(I ship erasermic so some of these relate to that)

I guess this also needs a warning: some more mature things if you squint hard enough

Also the ships in this are: erasermic, kiribaku, tododeku, and a tiny tiny bit of momojiro (sorry if I forgot one)

~ Mic is actually kinda sad and breaks down alot when hes alone because of the stress he goes through, aizawa is the only one he will break down infront of ~ ~ Aizawa secretly loves giving mic piggyback rides. Change. My. Mind. ~ ~ Bakugo is nicest and softest when he is sleepy, and more open with his feelings when he is tired (especially to kiri, I ship them too😭✋) ~ ~ When sero cooks or cleans he will put on spanish music and dance to it. ~ ~ Dabi is kinky™️ ~ ~ Dabi will tease e v e r y o n e ~ ~ Dabi makes up stories of how he got burnt, like: Twice: so- uh how did all this go down * gesturing to scars * Dabi: oh, while sneezing Twice: but how does tha- Dabi: *sneezes and uses his fire* Twice: oH- ~ ~ When 1-a all become pro heroes, deku will wear everyone's merch ~

~ When bakugo is working out, when he does push ups he will get kirishima to lay on him for "additional weight" (we see you bakugo👀👀) ~ ~ Shoto can make snowflakes with his quirk. I. Rest. My. Case. ~ ~ shoto likes dancing in the rain or snow, well not dance just like being with deku ~ ~ Shoto will make little things out of ice and give them to deku (all might figures👀👀) ~ ~ Occasionally in the dorms everyone in 1-a has a movie night ~ ~ Ojiros tail wags when hes happy ~ ~ This is cannon because I've seen the official art, but I hc that bakugo likes animals and animals love him cause he smells like caramel and his hands are warm ~ ~ One word for aoyama. S e l f i e s ~

~ Shoto didnt know how to ride a bike so when they all moved into the dorms 1-a taught him ~ ~ When bakugo walks into the dorms common area he says stuff like "it smells like bitch in here" and "ughhh if I stay in here to long the bitchyness might affect me" ~ ~ All the girls in 1-a: sleepovers™️ but every time mineta will try to get in lmao. It. Never. Works. ~ ~ Shotos birthday present to everyone is endeavors credit card number😂he will also go clothes shopping with all the girls just because he can use endeavors credit card ~ ~ Tokoyami is actually really good at drawing and loves writing poetry ~ ~ Bakugo is the oldest in 1-a which is cannon. I feel like he would be the type to brag that he's the oldest and would use it as an excuse to do what he wants ~ ~ The dekusquad and bakusquad have groupchats ~ ~ Bakusquad play video games together and eat pizza together all the time ~ ~ The dekusquad gc consists of iida talking about homework, positive memes, and todoroki not understanding anything happening on there ~ ~ Jirou has a music playlist for every situation. Every. Situation. ~ ~ The best jeanist said bakugo couldn't learn how to style hair so katsuki "I am the best at everything" bakugo learnt how to do hair and now all the girls and kirishima go to him and make him do their hair ~ ~ Kirishima needs his hair dyed red when his roots start showing, so bakugo dyes it for him ~ ~ 1-a loves playing games like truth and dare and never have I ever when they cant sleep or are just bored ~ ~ Bakugo sleeps at 8. pm which is cannon, but still wants to be the best at whatever they are doing, so he still goes if they are playing or watching something but always. Always. Falls asleep, and he falls asleep on kiri. ~ ~ Aizawa is actually really flexible and can jump around and move literally like a cat. ~ ~ Mic: finger guns™️ and I can imagine this Mic: *does finger guns at aizawa* Aizawa: pull the trigger. ~ ~ Everyone goes into bakugos room for advice. Like jirou would go in there at 3am and just be like : yo so I'm lesbian and momo is lesbian and she said she likes me but I'm not sure if she likes me.

And even though bakugo will literally shout at them for being in his room at 3am they will still get advice😂~ ~ Kirishima is named after a mountain. Bakugos favourite activity is mountain climbing. Its cannon and ik it is I just thought I'd say that ~ ~ Shinso definitely uses his voice changer for memes. He would say things like "I'm katsuki bakugo and I'm a little bitch" with bakugos voice and "im aizawa and Im in love with a cockatoo" with aizawas voice. ~ ~ When denki is nervous random sparks of electricity come from his hands. ~ ~ If denki doesnt know how to do something he will search it up on wiki how. Change. My. Fucking. Mind. ~ ~ Shiggy genuinly doesnt know what moisturizer is ~ ~ Mic is amazing at playing any instrument ~ ~ Mic knows sign language and is fluent in alot of languages ~ ~ After toga stabs someone she mumbles things like "ughhh what a mood" "damn that one snatched my weave" and "we stan a queen" and once held up the knife like a beauty guru ~ ~ The girls constantly try to get uraraka to float m*neta into the sun ~ (yes I censored his name💀💀) ~ Tokoyami has good music taste ~ ~ The bakusquad (kaminari) tries to teach all might vine references ~ ~ Shoto l o v e s conspiracy videos ~ ~ Ojiro can purr ~ ~ Mina shares her clothes with everyone ~ ~ Shoto likes to watch the sun rise ~ ~ Omgggg I love this one. Aizawa listens to Mics radioshow when he grades papers and when he cant he will hum the music to himself ~ ~ Kaminari is memes™️ ~ ~ When mic says todorokis name he says it like the target vine (next competitor is- T T T T T T T T T TODOROKI SHOTOOOOOO *makes air horn noises*) ~ ~ The UA staff have prank wars (especially mic and literally anyone. Once poured pink cat shaped glitter on aizawa and it was 100% worth it) ~ Mic can harmonize with himself. Periodt. ~ ~ Tetsutetsu and shinso spend so much time at the 1-a dorms that one time bakugo cooked food for them too. ~

~ On that note, bakugo is obviously an amazing cook and when hes cooking for himself he will "accidentally make too much so you extras can have it" ~ ~ Shoto is literally turtlenecks™️ ~ ~ Mic literally has the worst sleep schedule like how is this man alive???? ~ ~ At night iida will run around the dorms saying goodnight to everyone and checking that they are all still in the dorms because he feels it’s his responsibility to look after everyone ~ ~ Shigirakis favourite thing to do is to just stand in the rain. He finds the rain soothing and calming to him because it’s one of the only things that he can’t destroy so it gives him peace of mind that he still human and isn’t the completely destructive monster everyone claims him to be. ~

Hope you liked them✌✌

[taetaespeaches]

Liv you know how each member has a hobby they are into? How would each member’s ladies tell them they want to do it with them? I can see Peaches straight up being like yes I’m doing this with you because I want to spend time with you. And Holly secretly watching boxing videos and then hiding it once Guk catches her. Or or Poopsie trying to prove to Jin she can indeed cook without his watch 😭 or Petal buying bracelet diy kits 🥺

Well, I thought this was so cute that I turned it into a reaction sorta thing :) the selected hobbies are- Jin: fishing, Yoongi: basketball, Hoseok: diy bracelets, Namjoon: visiting art exhibitions, Jimin: video games, Taehyung: pastels, Jungkook: boxing. Anyways, thanks for asking love, and I hope you all enjoy <3 

“Remember that when I catch a bunch of fish and you don’t.”

kim seokjin x reader genre: fluff word count: 412

SCROLLING through the article about which lures are best for catching fish in fresh water lakes, Jin’s eyebrows were pulled together in concentration. Your head was resting upon his shoulder as you read through the descriptions with him, though Jin had no idea you were paying any real attention to the laptop screen.

“Mm,” you hummed, pushing your finger against the display at one of the lures. “That one is supposed to be good if paired with the right bait,” you told him, Jin quickly turning his head to look down at you.

“How do you know that?” He asked, you giggling as you looked up at his wide-eyed expression.

“I asked my dad,” you told him. “He’s a pretty good fisherman so I asked him for some tips.” A wide smile spread across Jin’s face as he stared at you. “Actually,” you started, standing up and making your way across the room to grab the shopping bag sitting on your dresser. “I got you something.”

Jin’s eyes widened even more, if that was possible, slowly taking the bag from you as you held it out to him. Digging inside, he pulled out a couple of the several lures you bought him, a gasp leaving his lips.

“Whoah, you’re amazing,” he told you sincerely, looking up at you as you grinned. “You got so many,” he noted in surprise, you shrugging.

“I guess I’ll have to come with to test some out for you,” you grinned, Jin’s expression showing even more astonishment.

“You want to come with?” He asked you disbelievingly, though a smile began curving on his lips.

“Of course,” you giggled. “I have an interest in you, therefore, I have an interest in your hobbies, darling.”

Dropping the bag of lures, Jin reached for your hand, tugging you on top of his lap, you less than gracefully straddling him. “I’m so in love with you,” he told you with a fond grin.

Pressing a kiss to his lips, you pulled away to rest your forehead against his own. Placing your hand against the side of his face, you soothed over his cheek with your thumb. “Remember that when I catch a bunch of fish and you don’t,” you teased, Jin immediately letting out a yell of complaint as he flipped you over onto your back, hovering over you.

“You little punk,” he chuckled before kissing you deeply, about to teach you a lesson on picking on your bad fisherman boyfriend.

“Just meet me on the court, you brat.”

min yoongi x reader genre: fluff word count: 450

FOR a man who liked to call you a brat, he sure was a goddamn brat. “Min, pick up the pace, come on,” you whined.

“What are we even doing?” He asked in complaint, though he did move a little faster as you walked down the street. He was dressed in a pair of basketball shorts and an oversized t-shirt with some trainers, as per your request, you in some workout shorts and a shirt just as big as his, because, well it was his.

“Would you just quit being a baby and trust me,” you giggled, receiving a grunt from your boyfriend. Suddenly, you felt a tug on the backpack you carried. Craning your neck to look behind you, you caught Yoongi as he opened up the bag. “Yoongi, no,” you whined, just as he pulled out the basketball.

A small smile gracing his pretty face, he shot you a confused look. “Why do you have this?”

Letting out a deep sigh, you grabbed his wrist, guiding him down the street a bit more, Yoongi following behind you amused but still puzzled. Rounding the corner, you pointed at the little park down the block, which just so happened to have a fully painted basketball court.

“I was trying to surprise you,” you pouted, Yoongi looking from the court back to you.

“Oh, Kid,” he chuckled at your expression, wrapping his arm around the top of your back and pulling you into his side. Pressing a kiss to your temple, he smiled against your skin, chuckling some more. “You’re cute.”

“I want you to teach me your moves,” you told him, the man giggling even more as his shoulders shook.

“My moves?” He looked down at you with a gummy smile. “Since when?”

“Since always,” you stole the ball from him, your boyfriend shooting you a wide-eyed look. “I always want to be involved in your hobbies,” you told him, Yoongi’s gaze softening as his orbs scanned your features. “You love basketball and I love you,” you informed him as if it was obvious you would then also have an interest in basketball.

However, before he could respond with a sweet sentiment for your interest, you shoved against his chest to antagonize him. “So show me what you got,” you teased, Yoongi scoffing.

Stealing the ball back easily and dribbling as he walked toward the court he called back, “you asked for it, Kid.”

“Yeah, yeah, Grampa, don’t break a hip,” you yelled back, Yoongi shaking his head as he smiled fondly.

“Just meet me on the court, you brat,” he called out to you, both of you grinning like two idiots in love, because, well, that’s what you were. 

“You have to show me what to do though, I’m not very crafty.”

jung hoseok x reader genre: fluff word count: 472

AT the sound of your boyfriend stepping out of the shower, you checked to make sure all of your brand new beads we situated on the coffee table. You were determined to join Hoseok in his recent bracelet making hobby.

“Hobi,” you called out from your spot on the floor in front of the table, receiving a cute hum in response from across the apartment. “Will you come in here when you have a minute, please?”

There was about a three second delay before you heard Hoseok’s feet patting against the floor toward you. “What’s up, Pe-” he cut himself off upon spotting your display of beads and bracelet making materials. “What’s all this?” He asked through a bright smile, his wet hair cutely pushed off his forehead.

“I was hoping you could show me how to make those bracelets you’ve been putting together on your lives,” you grinned shyly, highlighting the materials as you scanned over them with your hands as if you were displaying them in an infomercial.

“Really?” He asked with an even bigger smile, his eyes wide and excited.

“Please?” You asked cutely, Hobi immediately doing a little hip wiggle as he clapped enthusiastically.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done this together yet,” he squealed out, hurrying toward you and plopping himself onto the floor next to you. “You really want to?” He asked, looking over your selection of beads.

“Of course,” you giggled, watching him as he looked over everything.

“Ooh,” he awed, “I like these,” he pointed to the reddish-orange opaque beads.

“Yeah?” You asked, Hobi nodding happily. “I’ll use those for yours then,” you smiled, Hoseok leaning forward and placing several kisses on your cheeks.

“You’re so cute,” he mumbled against your face before catching your lips in a few short but sweet pecks.

“I got these too,” you reached forward, grabbing the special beads you got just for you both. Holding them up for him, he inspected the two flower charms and the two sun charms. “I also have a couple hearts,” you said cutely as you looked for them on the table.

However, your search was cut short from Hoseok grabbing your face between his hands and kissing you deeply. Surprised by the action, you took a moment to react but then easily fell into the kiss, your hands holding onto his forearms.

“You’re amazing, Petal,” he smiled against your lips after finally breaking the kiss. “Thanks for putting all of this together.”

“I’ve been wanting to join you in this,” you giggled, pecking his lips. “You have to show me what to do though, I’m not very crafty.”

Pulling away, he flashed you a smile that reminded you exactly why you and all of his fans called him Sunshine. “I got you,” he said cutely, you giggling at how adorable he was.

“Why, wanna take me out on a date?“

kim namjoon x reader genre: fluff word count: 665

ONE of the perks of dating Namjoon was he was always introducing you to new artists, taking you to different exhibits. Not being super knowledgeable about topics such as art but enjoying learning, you appreciated the new experience each exhibit brought to you.

To show Namjoon how much you enjoyed tagging along as he explored different art showings, you decided to seek one out all on your own and invite him to attend it with you. The one you had selected was the Kukje Gallery’s solo exhibition of artist, Wook-kyung Choi.

Looking up from your phone, which displayed the information for the exhibition, you locked your eyes on Namjoon as he scribbled in a notebook.

“Babe, are you writing or do you have a minute?” You asked him, Namjoon’s eyes meeting yours as he shut the notebook.

“No, I was just jotting down an idea,” he gave you a close-mouthed smile. “We can talk, is everything ok?” He asked, you nodding immediately. “Come here,” he opened his arms, inviting you to sit on his lap.

Coming toward him, you seated yourself across his thighs, one of his arms wrapping around your waist as the other draped over your legs. “Do you have plans this weekend?”

“No,” he shook his head. “Why, wanna take me out on a date?” He joked with a smile, his eyes widening when you nodded.

“I do actually,” you giggled.

“Huh?” He asked cutely, surprise evident in both his expression and his tone.

“There’s an art exhibit for Wook-kyung Choi at the Kukje Gallery here in Seoul,” you told him, his eyes widening even more. “Do you know of her?”

Shaking his head, he peered down at your phone as you held it up for him. “I’ve been researching her a bit, and I really fell in love with the way she would talk about her work,” you told him as you scrolled through photos of her black and white abstract paintings. “She was always a bit of an outsider in the Korean art world. She didn’t fit in with either of the dominant styles of the 1970s, so she kind of blazed her own path and ended up changing the whole scene and introducing Abstract Expressionism to Korea,” you relayed the information, looking from the phone to your boyfriend, only to find him staring at you adoringly.

He smiled softly, you looking at him in slight embarrassment. “What?” You asked shyly.

“Nothing, keep talking,” he told you. “I really love this, I had no idea you had your own interest in art.”

“I don’t necessarily, I just know that you do,” you admitted timidly, Namjoon’s jaw dropping a bit at the confession. “I wanted to invite you to an exhibit to show you that I truly do enjoy exploring all of this art with you, and when I stumbled upon this one of Wook-kyung Choi’s work, I just kind of fell in love with her,” you explained.

Namjoon leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your jaw. “She reminds me of you and the boys,” you told him with a small giggle.

“Wait, really?” He asked in shock, you smiling at his expression as you nodded.

Looking to your phone, you scrolled until you found the part of the exhibition description that stood out to you earlier. “These two discrete but related bodies of work demonstrate the artist's strong commitment to personal expression and social commentary through brave exploration of form and content, and how she chose her own path instead of blindly following or adhering to a single artistic movement,” you read aloud to your boyfriend. “That sounds like you and your music.”

“I-” Namjoon started, stopping himself as he stared at you intently. “I love you so much I don’t even know how to put it into words right now,” he confessed, you smiling as you leaned into him, pressing your lips to his.

“I love you just as much,” you whispered into the kiss. “No words needed, babe.”

“Cool it, Park, I haven’t had my turn yet.”

park jimin x reader genre: fluff word count: 517

Jimin/Dear: playing video games. (517 words)

WALKING into your apartment, your ears were immediately met with the sounds of Jimin’s frustrated grunts. Pulling your eyebrows together, you followed the noise until you reached your bedroom, peeking inside to see him sat on your bed, propped up against your headboard staring down at his Nintendo Switch with a grimace.

“Chim,” you giggled, his eyes darting up to meet your own across the room. “What’s up, my darling?”

“Ahh,” he complained, “this game is surprisingly hard.”

“What is it?” You asked, making your way across the room, peering at the screen. “Mario?”

“Yeah, Super Mario Odyssey,” he confirmed. “Jin got it for me a while ago but I forgot about it,” he told you. Sitting down on the bed with him, you watched as he controlled Mario, running through a busy city street.

“What’s the whole idea of the game?” You asked, your eyes glued to the screen.

“Bowser is trying to marry Princess Peach by force and Mario is trying to stop him,” he mumbled jumping over and on top of a bunch of people in the game.

“Ew, the fuck?” You asked, Jimin giggling as he dropped his head onto your shoulder.

“I don’t have to play right now,” he told you, preparing to shut the console down, “I was just bored.”

“No, no, you gotta stop Bowser,” you told him, kissing the top of Jimin’s head. “The fucking perv,” you added, Jimin giggling again as he approached a lever, bouncing on it and making a reddish moon appear. “Whoah, what’s that?”

“I have to collect these moons,” he explained as he jumped back over the crowd of people, snagging his moon. A big ‘You Got A Moon’ appeared on the screen, Mario doing a spin in the air as triumphant music played, Mario finishing with a celebratory fist in the air.

“Ayyyy,” you cheered in excitement, Jimin smiling widely at your reaction. “That’s my man, bitch,” you exclaimed, Jimin giggling as he kissed your shoulder.

“You’re so cute,” he cooed, you giggling as you continued watching him play. “Are you sure you’re not bored, Dear?” He asked, lifting his head from your shoulder.

“Chim, I just want to spend time with you,” you admitted. “I’m always entertained with you,” you noted nonchalantly as you continued looking at the Switch.  When Mario stopped walking amongst the crowd of people, you slowly dragged your eyes from the screen to Jimin to find him looking at you lovingly. “What?”

“Keep saying things like that and I’ll be so flattered I won’t want to keep playing this game,” he told you flirtily, you giggling as you leaned forward to kiss him softly.

“Cool it, Park, I haven’t had my turn yet,” you told him, pulling the Switch from his hands. “Now tell me what to do.”

Chuckling at you, he pressed a series of kisses to your cheek before stepping into game instructor role, pulling up his sleeves and pretending to crack his neck as he played up his acting bit.

If he kept being so adorable, you wouldn’t want to keep playing the game either.

“Couple goals or whatever.”

kim taehyung x reader genre: fluff word count: 483

WATCHING your boyfriend drag the blue color across the drawing pad, you tilted your head mesmerized.

“Are those hard to work with?” You asked, Taehyung humming in thought as he stayed focused on the pastel drawing.

“Not really,” he said, you nodding though he wasn’t looking at you.

You were sitting a few feet away from him in his studio, both of you only dressed in your underwear, having just been intimate on that very floor a mere fifteen minutes ago. It started with you simply visiting your boyfriend in his quaint little art studio, and turned into him taking you shortly after your arrival, unable to keep his hands off you.

When he eventually returned to his pastels, you sat and watched him curiously. Crawling toward him, you sat yourself next to him, his innocent and stunning orbs looking at you with a softness only you could conjure from him.

“Can I have a piece of paper?” You asked, Taehyung’s eyes widening.

“You want to draw with me?” He questioned, you nodding.

“It’s actually why I came here,” you giggled. “Though the sex was great as always,” you added, “truly, you never disappoint.” Taehyung chuckled lowly, running his finger along your thigh, some of the pastel transferring from his digit to your leg. “Turns out your interests are my interests now,” you rolled your eyes jokingly. “Couple goals or whatever,” you added, Taehyung laughing cutely.  

“Hang on,” he told you, setting the drawing pad on the floor and standing up. You watched as his long-toned legs crossed the room, turning around with a new drawing pad in his hands. “You can have your own pad, Peaches,” he grinned, handing it to you.

Gasping, you looked down at the object. “One of my very own?” You asked, Taehyung giggling as he bent over to leave a kiss to your forehead.

“You can have as many as you want,” he told you. “How long have you been wanting to draw with me?” He asked, you shrugging as you set your gaze on him as he took a seat next to you.

“For a while, I guess. I love watching you work, so I guess you kind of inspired me to try,” you told him with a small smile. “You always make me want to do new things, and this is something we can do together.”

Pointing your attention back to the art materials, Taehyung watched as you studied the colors. “Should I just,” you grabbed the light green, “dive in with this and see what happens?” You asked, looking up at Tae when you received no answer.

“I love you,” he told you, you smiling at the sudden statement.

“And I love you, Dearest,” you replied, scrunching your nose as he continued to stare. “Hurry up and kiss me, dude,” you demanded, Tae giggling as he leaned forward, pressing his lips to yours eagerly.

“What the hell are you doing watching boxing videos?”

jeon jungkook x reader genre: fluff word count: 635

WITH your ear buds in, you didn’t hear your apartment door open, much less Jungkook’s footsteps as he approached you from behind. You were stood in your kitchen, your left foot forward and knees slightly bent as you watched the video on how to throw a left hook.

“Pop the elbow, turn the foot,” you mumbled to yourself, a smile spreading across Jungkook’s face as he watched you in utter amusement. “Thumb up,” you barely spoke as you watched the video, mimicking the movement being shown.

However, you realized your solo boxing lesson had been interrupted when you caught a glimpse of Jungkook in the laptop screen and recognized his giggle overtop the instructor’s voice. Reacting quickly, you slammed the laptop closed and spun around to face your crinkly-eyed boyfriend as he was nearly bent over in laughter.

“I hate you so much right now,” you spoke in mortification, watching as he didn’t even attempt to gather his composure. “Oh my god, this is so embarrassing,” you whined.

Finally calming his laughter to just light giggles, he reached out for you, taking your hand in his. “Why are you embarrassed, baby? Your form is great,” he teased, you pulling your hand from his and shoving his chest as you held back a laugh.

“You’re so mean,” you groaned as he quickly stepped toward you, wrapping you up in a hug, you burying your face in his chest.

“Can I just ask you one thing?” He asked, you groaning at the request. “What the hell are you doing watching boxing videos?”

Sighing against his t-shirt, he giggled again. “I wanted to learn some stuff so I could box with you some time,” you admitted timidly, Jungkook immediately pulling you from his frame just slightly so he could look at you, you meeting his gaze.

“You want to box with me?” He asked in surprise, a small smile tugging at his lips.

“Well, I did,” you giggled. “Now I just kind of want to crawl in a hole and die.” Jungkook laughed at the comment before cooing at you.

“You’re so cute, you know, you could have just told me you wanted to come with,” he told you, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I could teach you better than these fools,” he pointed at the closed laptop.

Giggling, you raised your eyebrows at him. “Jealous?” You teased, Jungkook scoffing. “I just wanted to know some stuff before I asked to tag along so that I wasn’t slowing you down during your workout,” you told him quietly, Jungkook shooting you a look of disbelief.

“That’s silly, teaching you would be the best part,” he assured you. Giving him a questioning expression, he grinned mischievously. “Turn around,” he told you before spinning you around, his hands landing on your hips, your back pressed to his chest.

Sliding his hand down your thigh, he tapped the side of it. “Bring this leg back,” he told you, you following his directions. “And now bend just slightly,” he led you, his hands gently soothing across your body, a little too sensually for a boxing lesson.

“See, this is why I can’t learn from you,” you noted, Jungkook chuckling next to your ear.

“Why is that, Baby?” He whispered, you scoffing in response.

“Because I have zero desire to learn how to throw a left hook now,” you whined, Jungkook laughing as he pressed a kiss to the side of your neck.

“We can’t do anything, I swear,” he giggled against your skin, you laughing as you reached back to thread your fingers into his hair.

“Are you complaining?” You asked, looking to your side to meet his gaze.

“Definitely not,” he said just before pressing his lips to yours, immediately deepening it as you turned in his arms.

[belettewrites]

Listen to the melody

In which Jaskier finds a puppy, immediately adopts him, and Geralt becomes the “dad didn’t want a dog//dad and the dog” meme. Oh, and some self-esteem issues from a certain white-haired witcher that lead to some hurt until they finally talk to each other. 

cw: the dog gets hurt but I promise he’s fine.

Around 8k words, link to AO3 here!

And a big thank you to @potatofu-art for giving the dog his name! Go check their blog, you won’t regret it (no seriously, do it, trust me)

Geralt and Jaskier had met again when the cold breeze had been replaced by a warmer one, when trees were starting to wear bright green leaves again and fields were blooming with small and fragile flowers.

A few months had past, spring leaving in favor of a warm summer, and they had not parted ways yet. It was something that they usually did, because sometimes Jaskier needed to go to a bardic competition that took place where Geralt would never be able to find a contract, or because Jaskier was requested to play somewhere Geralt would never be able to follow. It wasn’t really parting ways, actually it was more Jaskier leaving, but Geralt told himself that it was something he was fine with. The bard did find him again after, or Geralt did, and they would start traveling together again, Jaskier sharing gossips that Geralt pretended to care about.

He was… fond of Jaskier, and that was why when the bard stopped following the path that would lead straight to the village they had planned to spend the night in, Geralt stopped to wait for him.

The sun hadn’t set yet and wouldn’t for at least an hour, but cicadas were already singing around them, the luminosity dim even though night hadn’t fallen yet. They were just at the edge of the town, and so they had time.

Geralt turned around to see what Jaskier was doing; surely the bard had found a flower that he deemed worth picking, and- 

Jaskier wasn’t on the road anymore. He had jumped in the ditch by the side of the road, and was currently cooing at something. Now that Geralt thought of it, he could hear two heartbeats in that ditch.

“Jaskier?”

He didn’t draw his sword – there was no need – but readied himself for whatever he would find. He walked closer to the ditch, trusting Roach not to run away; the mare snorted but didn’t move.

“I’m fine, don’t worry, it’s just – can you hold him for me while I get out of here?”

Geralt looked down. The ditch was quite deep, Jaskier would no doubt stain his doublet to get out of it, as he had his boots when he had jumped in it: a layer of mud covered the bottom of the ditch. But that was not the part that interested Geralt at the moment; not, what made him pause was what Jaskier was currently cradling to his chest – a puppy.

It was not a small one; his legs, covered in mud as the rest of his fur, showed that he would grow into a big dog, the kind that kept herds of sheep in the mountains – not the kind that was left alone in a ditch by the side of the road.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, his tone impatient, and Geralt reached out without thinking about it, taking the puppy in his hands.

It squirmed a little but let itself be carried. Geralt put it on the ground next to him, and helped Jaskier to get out of the ditch.

“Thank you, dear,” Jaskier smiled, before his attention returned to the dog. He squatted down to take it in his arms. “The poor thing wasn’t even making a noise,” he said, his smile turning sad, “and he’s shaking. He must have been in here for hours – why would anyone do that?”

Geralt looked at the puppy. His long brown and black fur was in a poor state, hairs matted together by the mud.

“He’s missing a leg,” he stated, and Jaskier frowned.

“And?”

“And people don’t want dogs with only three legs,” Geralt shrugged. It was stupid, but humans often were.

Jaskier’s eyes somehow got even sadder, and Geralt felt helpless. He didn’t want Jaskier to be sad, but there wasn’t anything that he could do to make humans stop being prejudiced against things that weren’t how they expected them to be.

Then determination shone in Jaskier’s eyes and Geralt suddenly felt afraid of what he would say next.

“We’re keeping Butterscotch.”

“We are not keeping him- you gave him a name?”

Jaskier scratched the dog behind his ears, and the puppy closed his eyes.

“Well it’s not as if anyone was going to,” the bard replied, and Geralt suddenly felt extremely tired. “Besides, I found him. I get to name him.”

“We can’t keep him,” Geralt said again, because it was something that Jaskier needed to understand.

“But he’s helpless,” Jaskier almost pouted, “and you said it yourself: people won’t want him. I am not going to leave him here all alone, ready to be eaten by wolves.”

There weren’t any wolves in the area, but Geralt decided against saying it. And of course they wouldn’t abandon him like that.

“His previous humans didn’t want him,” he said instead, “we can find him another family.”

The puppy yawned, which was the most noise he had made since they had found him, and tried to lick Jaskier’s chin. The bard smiled at him, a fond thing, and Geralt suddenly couldn’t tell Jaskier that a young dog wouldn’t survive on the path for long and that they couldn’t exactly afford to feed a puppy on top of their needs.

“No,” Jaskier said, still holding the puppy in his arms. Fuck, but he was cute. The dog – Butterscotch – tried to lick him again, and Jaskier laughed.

Fuck.

They were now doing what he had no choice but to call puppy eyes at him.

This was a bad idea. There were so many reasons why this was a bad idea – a dog would need care and attention, and Jaskier’s life was chaotic enough as it was. And of course, dogs didn’t exactly like Geralt. Neither did other pets; cats avoided him like the plague. He didn’t want an animal to be near him all the time – that would cause it distress, and Geralt knew that Jaskier would choose to leave sooner than he usually did.

But one important thing that Geralt couldn’t push aside was that what he wanted most was Jaskier to be happy, be it by his side or on his own.

“He can stay,” he finally conceded, trying not to let it show that at this point there was nothing he would be able to refuse Jaskier. “For now,” he warned pointlessly, acutely aware that the dog would be with him on the path until Jaskier decided that he had had enough of following a witcher around.

He turned away, warmed up by the smile that was currently lighting up Jaskier’s face. He tried to hold onto that happiness when the thought that Jaskier would leave inevitably came. They started walking again, Geralt leading, Jaskier right next to him.

“We’re going to have so many adventures together,” the bard said to the dog that he was still holding in his arms, “and we’ll have a fantastic time. But for now, Butterscotch, let’s go back to the inn and get you a bath. I’m sorry to tell you, you poor thing, but you absolutely need it.”

***

Traveling with a dog wasn’t that much different. Butterscotch was a silent one, never barking at birds or other dogs, which was a relief; the last thing Geralt needed was a small animal broadcasting their location to every single monster around. Even if Butterscotch wasn’t exactly small anymore.

They had found another town and had decided to stay there; Jaskier had performed at the tavern, earning a fair amount of coin, and they had retired for the night when his set had been over.

Geralt was already under the covers, watching with half-opened eyes as Jaskier was getting ready to go to bed. His boots were already by the bed, his doublet folded nicely on the table. 

Butterscotch put his front leg on the bed, near Geralt’s face, and currently sniffed him. His whiskers were tickling Geralt’s nose, and he glared at the dog, who – tried to lick Geralt’s face. The witcher resisted the urge of hiding himself behind the cover.

"He's not sleeping on the bed,” he warned.

“Of course he is sleeping on the bed, we'll need the extra heat. And he's adorable, Geralt, how can you say no?”

The so-called adorable dog was currently making puppy eyes at Geralt, as if he had understood what was going on and was trying to convince him too.

“Because he'll get fur everywhere, and my pants and armor are already covered in them.”

Because that sounded petulant, he added.

“The inn will charge us double.”

Jaskier sighed, but Geralt knew he had to win this one. If he didn’t, then the dog would just take a bad habit, and they would end up regretting it when he would be fully grown. The puppy was already bigger than when Jaskier had got him and it seemed that he was not going to stop. He looked like a shepherd dog, and Geralt wondered how the fuck he had ended up in the small town in which they had found him.

In which Jaskier had found him. Butterscotch was Jaskier’s dog, not theirs.

“But he’ll get cold, and lonely, and he’ll think I don’t love him-”

“Jaskier,” Geralt interrupted his friend before it turned into a proper lamentation and it was too late, “the d- Butterscotch loves you already, he follows you everywhere. He won’t mind sleeping on the ground, especially since dogs like him are used to sleeping outside.”

“You’re- you’re right. And we’re right here, it’s not as if he’ll miss us!”

It’s not as if he’ll miss you, Geralt thought. I don’t think he cares much about me.

It was already a miracle that the dog could stand being near him. They usually ran the other way, but this one was surely soothed by Jaskier’s calming presence, always here to talk to him or pet him, or even carry him – Geralt had told Jaskier that he would regret it when the dog would be older, but the other man had ignored him.

“Hear that, Butterscotch? No sleeping on the bed for you. But you’ll be fine, you’ll see.”

He heard Jaskier whispering to the dog for a few minutes, and let himself smile, knowing that the other man would never see it. It was nice to see Jaskier so happy; Geralt had given him some coins so he would be able to buy a brush for the puppy, and the way Jaskier had smiled still haunted him.

He heard more than he saw Jaskier slipping under the cover, yawning.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” he whispered, and Geralt hummed his reply.

He discovered in the morning that Butterscotch had slept on his bag, successfully shedding fur everywhere. Jaskier had gone downstairs to get them breakfast, so he allowed himself to say to the dog:

“You’re a menace, little one.”

Butterscotch wagged its tail and nudged Geralt’s hand. Well. You couldn’t win them all.

***

The wind was howling outside, the sky was getting darker, and people were hurrying to get inside before the night fully settled. However, Geralt and Jaskier were too busy arguing to notice that.

“I’m telling you, Jaskier, you have to stay here for this one. It’s too dangerous.”

They had been arguing – calmly discussing – for a good ten minutes about Geralt’s next hunt; the witcher didn’t want Jaskier to come with him because it was too dangerous, while the bard absolutely wanted to come because it would “make a great song”. Geralt tended to disagree – he couldn’t exactly see the appeal of songs describing him fighting against monsters.

Plus, the fight would take place in a forest, at night, so it wasn’t very likely that Jaskier would be able to see anything, and extremely likely that Geralt would have to end up running for his bard’s life, because the other man was too busy taking notes to notice his surroundings. Though the night would prevent him from taking any notes, as would the rain that the dark clouds were announcing. There really was no point for Jaskier to come with him.

“Well what I am telling you is that-”

Butterscotch whined, effectively interrupting Jaskier in whatever he was going to reply.

They both looked down at the dog who was laying at their feet, his ears back on his head. Jaskier squatted down to take him in his arms.

“You’re going to regret that when he’ll be older,” Geralt warned, as he did every time Jaskier went to hold the puppy. Jaskier was strong, but not strong enough to hold the eighty pounds that the puppy would one day weigh. Somehow, Geralt knew that he was going to have to hold the dog when he would want to, and the thought itself was enough to tire him.

“We’ll see,” Jaskier replied like he did every time. “He doesn’t like when we’re fighting,” he added, showing the puppy to Geralt, who barely resisted the urge to pet him. Butterscotch’s ears had perked up now that Jaskier was holding him, and he and the bard made quite an adorable sight, not that Geralt was ever going to say that out loud.

It didn’t seem like Jaskier was going to change his mind soon, if the way he was frowning was a good indication of it. If the wind, the rain threatening to fall, and his possible demise weren’t enough to deter Jaskier from following him, it was time to change tactics. Jaskier might be the bard between the two of them but Geralt too knew how to wield words, though he didn’t choose to do it often.

“We can’t let him here,” he said, shoulders open as a proof of sincerity. Because he did mean it.

“I’m sorry?”

“Butterscotch. You can’t leave him here all alone. He’s still… young, it’s too dangerous.”

Jaskier raised an eyebrow at Geralt, who felt like he needed to go on if he wanted Jaskier to actually yield.

“He might get injured, I won’t be able to defend the both of you.”

And between you and him, I would choose you. Even if you’d hate me for not saving your dog.

Jaskier’s face seemed to fall, but he nodded, reaffirming his hold on the dog.

“You’re- yes, it would be safer for him.”

“For you,” Geralt insisted, because it was something that he needed to say. Butterscotch was a means to an end here, a way for him to make Jaskier stay in their room instead of running to his doom. And if it meant protecting the puppy, well. It was as they said, with the birds and the stone.

Geralt clumsily patted Jaskier on the shoulder before turning around to check if he had all he needed. It was easier than to see how his friend was looking now, his eyes too sad for Geralt’s liking. But it was something that he would do again – Jaskier’s safety was more important to him than what the bard actually thought about him.

He glanced at his things, quickly scanning what was in his bag: potions, a shirt that Jaskier had insisted had to be there, the stick that Butterscotch had given to him – wait.

He took the stick out of his bag, deciding against throwing it away, not because it was something that Butterscotch had given to him, but because… because. He could feel his swords against his back, their light weight a reassurance that everything was going to be okay – that even if he didn’t make it for a reason or another, Jaskier and Butterscotch would be safe here.

“I’ll go now,” he said to Jaskier, who had put the puppy back on the ground and was currently taking his lute out of its case. “Don’t wait for me.”

“Be careful, dear,” Jaskier replied, barely taking his eyes away from his lute.

Butterscotch tried to follow Geralt as he walked towards the door, and the witcher had to quickly close it to prevent the dog from escaping. He heard a whine coming from inside the room and Jaskier’s soothing voice who tried to calm him.

Shaking his head, Geralt walked downstairs, ignoring the way hearing how sad the puppy was made his heart clench.

Jaskier was reading when Geralt came back, thankfully uninjured, though damp because of the rain that had finally started to fall. The bard was already under the covers, his lute safe in its case, papers safely tucked away in his bag. A single candle was lighting the room, and Geralt was left once again to wonder about Jaskier’s powers. Could he see in the dark? Maybe that was why he had wanted to come with him despite the night.

“You’re back,” Jaskier smiled at him, not closing his book. “Do you need help with anything?”

“No,” Geralt grunted, putting his bag and swords down. He had already cleaned them, knowing that Jaskier would already be in bed and not wanting to disturb him.

He started to unbuckle his armor, only to stop dead in his tracks when he saw what was currently sleeping on his side of the bed.

“Is Butterscotch-”

“Sleeping on the bed? Yes, I think he is. He’s cute, isn’t he?”

Geralt sighed.

“I thought we had agreed not to let him sleep on the bed.”

“I know it’s going to teach him terrible habits, but you were away and he was looking so sad-”

“It’s unsanitary,” Geralt said, finally getting out of his armor. Quickly changing into a new shirt – one that wasn’t full of fur –, he woke the dog up by petting his head. “Hey,” he murmured, trying not to think too much about why he was so gentle with him, “get off the bed.”

Butterscotch slowly stood up, stretching and yawning, but finally jumped off the bed in one smooth motion. He immediately went near Geralt’s bag, curled up into a ball, and promptly fell back asleep.

“Hmm.”

“See? He listens, he’s well-educated,” Jaskier said, closing his book and putting it away.

“He was afraid of what I might do to him,” Geralt retorted while getting under the cover. “I don’t think that counts as listening.”

Jaskier blinked a few times, his face growing serious.

“Butterscotch isn’t afraid of you, Geralt.”

“He obeys me because he sees me as a predator. He’s afraid.”

“Is that- Geralt, that couldn’t be further from the truth. Didn’t you hear him when you left? He was sad because you were leaving without him.”

“You’re disillusioned, bard,” Geralt snarled before blowing out the candle. To think that a dog – that anyone, really – would miss him when he was gone was beyond stupid.

Jaskier stayed silent, the only sound in the room the deep breaths of the dog.

“Goodnight, Geralt,” he finally said, his voice small.

Geralt didn’t reply, too busy hating himself to notice how Jaskier’s breaths became more irregular, how the air suddenly smelled like salt instead of them.

Butterscotch kept on sleeping, undisturbed.

***

Geralt hadn’t known how to apologize about that incident so he didn’t, and they kept on moving across the continent for a few weeks, Butterscotch still proudly walking beside them, following Jaskier or staying near Roach who, the traitor, seemed to like the dog just find, never minding when he walked near her.

Jaskier hadn’t mentioned the incident either, so Geralt simply thought that it had been forgotten. He hadn’t made any other remarks after that, and Jaskier hadn’t tried to pretend that the dog loved them both equally when they both knew it was a lie.

It didn’t stop Geralt from thinking back about that night and the day that had followed, how Jaskier had talked but not really talked, how it had seemed more like a defense mechanism than a true desire to share every thought that came across his mind.

Butterscotch hadn’t been allowed to sleep on the bed again after that night though he kept on trying, and Geralt was left to wonder how exactly the presence of a dog had changed their dynamics so much. Or maybe, he thought as he watched Jaskier braiding a flower into Roach’s mane, maybe it didn’t change them as much as it revealed that they had already changed. Jaskier was getting older, and though it didn’t show, Geralt knew that the time for him to finally settle down somewhere would come.

He had mentioned the coast, once, how he would have liked to go there when he would be older, and Geralt knew that it was only a matter of time before Jaskier would leave him, taking Butterscotch and all the happiness in Geralt’s life with him.

But it was not something Geralt had control over; still, he couldn’t help but think about it, about when Jaskier would eventually leave, when he would be all alone on the path once again. He had forgotten how it was to truly be alone. Even when he and Jaskier got separated during the year, he knew they would find each other again. But to know that Jaskier wouldn’t be waiting for him anymore would change the colors of the path from bright and lively to dull.

It was difficult not to think about it right now. They were sleeping outside, in the woods, because the weather was nice and they were too far away from any villages anyway. They had set camp early and the night had just fallen on them. Jaskier and Butterscotch had left for a walk, as they always did on evenings, and Geralt had stayed behind, as he always – no. That was not true. He should stop thinking like that.

He added another log to the fire, and sighed. He could hear them still, Jaskier walking on twigs and Butterscotch running around, but he felt… lonely. Which was ridiculous. He never used to feel like that before.

They were coming back, just in time to eat the rabbits that Geralt had been cooking. He had made sure to add spices to Jaskier’s part.

Butterscotch ran straight to him, his lack of a front leg not deterring him. He stopped right by him, and Geralt petted his head. The dog had surely smelled the rabbits, which would explain why he was letting Geralt pet him. Or maybe – but no. Dogs didn’t like him.

“He whines when you’re not here, you know,” Jaskier said as he sat down next to Geralt. “Which was cute when he was small, but now – I swear, he’s always silent when you’re near but when you’re gone? Gods, the only way to soothe him is to give him one of your shirts.”

That would explain why he kept on having dog hair on his stuff even when they had been safely packed away in his bag.

"Hmm," he replied, trying to ignore the way the dog wagged his tail as he pet him. It meant nothing.

He stopped petting Butterscotch to take the rabbits out of the fire, and the dog nudged his arm.

“He didn’t like how you stopped petting him,” Jaskier remarked, an amused smile on his lips that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Hmm,” Geralt said, but resumed his previous task. Butterscotch sat down and put his head on Geralt’s tight, who tried his best to refrain the wave of affection that overtook him. Maybe – maybe the dog trusted him, after all. Maybe Jaskier had been right, the other night, when –

He quickly glanced at his friend, who looked the other way when their eyes met. Great.

Geralt hated it, hated the way they were right now – but he couldn’t say anything. It was too late. He should have apologized right after his outburst. But Jaskier had acted as if everything was fine the next morning and it had been too easy to follow his lead, to not think about what he had said, how it might have hurt him.

“We should eat,” he said, if only to break the silence. “And maybe – you must have a song or two, for after,” he added hesitantly.

Jaskier’s face cleared up, a sparkle of mischief lighting up in his eyes. It made Geralt want to smile.

Instead, what he did was take his share of the food and eat it slowly, giving as discreetly as possible pieces of it to the dog that hadn’t left his side. If Jaskier saw him, he didn’t say anything; he was talking about the latest gossip in a court whose name Geralt had forgotten.

Listening to his laugh as he recounted the misfortune of some nobles made it a bit easier to forget that this, that them being together and sharing a meal, was not something that was meant to last. Jaskier played soft tunes that Butterscotch fell asleep to, laying down at Geralt’s side, and Geralt closed his eyes. He never wanted the moment to end.

***

The day had been nice; the weather had been kind to them, the sun warming the streets of the town they had decided to stay in because Geralt had taken a contract there and because the inn looked “just perfect for me to perform in, Geralt”. So they had rented a room, Jaskier had given the innkeeper his word that the big fluffy dog that was with them wouldn’t hurt anyone and would keep silent, and they had spent the rest of the day preparing for their respective evening activities.

The fight wasn’t one Geralt was worried about, and it went without much problems. Jaskier and Butterscotch had stayed behind, as they did most of the time now, and Geralt had tried not to think about it too much. Because that was what he had wanted, right? But he couldn’t help but feel as if it were a sign of Jaskier’s soon departure, a proof that Jaskier wasn’t interested in staying with him anymore. It scared him, and the fact that it scared him scared him even more.

He managed to refrain from sighing wearily as he opened the door. He was ready to eat whatever was left of supper and to go to bed, because hopefully his dreams wouldn’t be plagued by thoughts of Jaskier and Butterscotch leaving him.

“Geralt!”

His name, said with so much angst and worry, made Geralt almost drop everything he had been carrying – namely, his swords and his bag of potions. Eyes wide open, suddenly perfectly awake, he all but ran to Jaskier, worried out of his mind. The last time he had seen him, Jaskier had been working at the table of the room, happily humming, the dog laying at his feet, playing with one of Geralt's shirts.

Now Jaskier was standing beside the door, eyes full of tears, while Butterscotch was nowhere to be seen.

“Jaskier, breathe,” he said, as gently as he could manage. “What's going on?”

Jaskier grasped Geralt's arm, his grip almost painful.

“I- it's Butterscotch. He's- he's not doing well, I brought him to the town's apothecary and they said to come back with payment, but I don't think I have enough coins and I don't even know if he'll be okay and-”

Geralt put his bag down and gathered his friend into his arms – to ground him.

“-and I don't usually panic but you were late and- oh, Geralt, what if something happens to him?”

That was exactly why Geralt hadn't wanted the dog to stay with them. Not because he was a liability and another way to waste coin – but because this exact situation could happen. Because loving a being as fragile as Butterscotch was the best way to end up hurt. He tried not to think about Roach, and the Roach that had been there before.

That also was why he had tried his best not to attach himself to Jaskier. Because the bard would die one day, and it was easier not to have friends than to have to face the pain of losing them. Though that line of thought had been cut short when Jaskier had casually said that he couldn't exactly die, and though Geralt didn't exactly know how that particular thing had happened, he couldn't say that he didn't like it. Now the only thing that would stop him from being with Jaskier – as a friend − was the bard deciding that Geralt wasn't worth his time and affection anymore, which would hurt too, but Geralt comforted himself by thinking that at least Jaskier would be alive.

“I have money,” he said at last, not knowing how to comfort Jaskier who was crying in his arms. “We should go there, and listen to what they say.”

He had no idea what had happened to their dog, but it must have been bad if Jaskier was in such a state. The bard loved so freely, it was sometimes worrying.

“Yes,” Jaskier nodded, “Yes. Do you think- do you think we should bring him his shirt?” he added tentatively, sniffing.

“I don't know when my shirt became his, but yes,” Geralt tried to joke just to make Jaskier smile, to bring back the spark in his blue eyes.

It worked, somehow, Jaskier smiling thinly, eyes still brimmed with red. How long had he been crying, alone?

“Come on, Jask. No need to stay here when they need us there. I have enough money, take the shirt, and we'll see how our dog is doing. I'm sure he'll be fine.”

Jaskier nodded, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Yes, you're right, yes, I- I'll tell you what happened on the way.”

They left the room without looking back, and Geralt, worried about Jaskier and about the dog that had somehow forged a way into his heart, let Jaskier take his hand. He needed the comfort, Geralt thought, and it wasn't hurting anyone. And there was nothing that he could really refuse Jaskier – the mere presence of Butterscotch into their life was proof of that.

Their brown and black dog was in a poor state, his breaths laborious and his eyes glassy.

“I gave him something against the pain”, the apothecary explained, “but it's going to take a few more days until he'll be fine again.”

Geralt felt Jaskier squeeze his hand.

“But he is?” the bard asked, his voice hoarse, “Going to be fine, I mean.”

The apothecary smiled.

“Yes, worry not,” they assured. “Make sure he doesn't eat anything like this again, though.”

As Jaskier had explained to Geralt on the way to the edge of the village where the shop was, he had taken Butterscotch outside for a walk right before the night had fallen, because he had planned to spend the evening playing for the townsfolk and the day was just too beautiful to resist a short stroll.

Since the dog didn't need a leash, Jaskier had let him wander around, keeping an eye on him but not worried. Nothing bad had happened, but right as they were going back into their room, Butterscotch had eaten something that had been left right in front of their door, and had started whining soon after. Jaskier had dropped everything to run to the town’s apothecary, Butterscotch in his arms, worried out of his mind and not even thinking about who could have done it.

It made Geralt's blood boil with rage. He could understand people being prejudiced against him, not liking him and fearing him. But to think that someone had willingly tried to poison his dog – it made him feel furious and guilty. What if they had decided to hurt Jaskier instead? 

“We brought him something,” Jaskier said, taking out the black shirt that was covered in fur, “Can he have it?”

The apothecary sent a knowing look Geralt's way but smiled at them. Jaskier hadn't let Geralt's hand go.

“Of course. I can keep him here for a few days, if that's alright with you.”

Geralt could feel Jaskier's hesitation, though he didn't know what caused it.

“I have coin”, Geralt told them, and he felt Jaskier relax next to him. “It's not going to be a problem. Please just... make sure he doesn't suffer too much?”

Jaskier squeezed his hand again, and Geralt squeezed back to let him know that everything was going to be alright.

“I will,” they promised, “He's lucky to have people as loving as you two are.”

“He's... good,” Geralt said, not really knowing how to answer that. He glanced at Jaskier, only to find that the bard was already looking at him.

“Thank you for taking care of him so late in the evening,” Jaskier yawned, and oh, right, it was well into the night at this point. Geralt hadn't even realized. “We'll be on our way,” Jaskier added, and Geralt took it as his cue to give the apothecary the amount of money they had asked for. “Thank you for taking care of Butterscotch, we'll be back tomorrow to visit him.”

They bid their goodbyes and walked back to their room. Jaskier was silent on their way back to the inn, which was weird but understandable; he seemed to be thinking about something, his scent betraying his sadness and his anxiousness. And if Jaskier's hand found Geralt's again, well, neither of them was going to comment on that.

***

“It's weird, not having to tell him not to climb on the bed,” Geralt remarked a little while later, as they were both trying to sleep, candles blown out a few minutes ago.

When Jaskier didn't reply, he opened his eyes to look at him. Jaskier avoided his eyes, and Geralt frowned.

“I'm worried about him too,” he said, “but they said he was going to be okay. You should try to sleep, Jaskier. It won’t change anything if you stay awake.”

Jaskier sighed, a sigh so sad and so full of anguish that hearing it made Geralt's chest hurt.

“I know, it's just- you aren't going to leave him here, right? After he's well again? Because I know we're both just liabilities to you,” Jaskier went on without caring about Geralt's stunned silence, “But this was my fault and he shouldn't be punished like this – because between you and him I don't know which one I would be able to choose, because choosing you would mean losing him and I think I would hate you for that, but choosing him would mean losing you and I- I can't afford to lose you, Geralt.”

To say that Geralt didn't know what to fucking say would be an understatement; he went for the thing he was the most familiar with.

“What?”

Jaskier sat up and so did he. He cast Igni absentmindedly, thinking that it was a conversation for which they needed to see each other clearly and not in the darkness of an unlit room. It was a mistake, though, because seeing Jaskier's desperate look in the light made Geralt feel... he didn't know what the feeling was, but it was not a good one.

“I mean,” he tried again, “Why the fuck would I leave him here? He's our- I mean, your dog, and you love him, why would I- I would never do that, Jaskier, I-”

A thought occurred to him.

“Wait, what do you mean you're both liabilities?”

“What I mean,” Jaskier said, “and don't you dare deny it, is that I know I don't bring much to you, and that Butterscotch at best amuses you sometimes. And-”

“I love him, Jask,” Geralt interrupted. And I love you, he didn't add.

“Oh,” Jaskier replied, clearly not expecting such an answer. “Well, that's-”

“And you’re not liabilities,” Geralt went on, because that was something that he needed to say, that he apparently should have said sooner if Jaskier was able to say it with so much confidence.

“Geralt, you need to feed him, I’m useless in a fight, and I mostly make you end in problems which you would have been able to stay away from if you had been alone.”

That was… true. Not that Geralt cared.

“Jaskier, you don’t- I was alone. And you decided to be my – friend,” he managed to say, trying not to show how much it scared him to say it out loud, lest Jaskier denied it, “and I don’t mind paying for your dog, or for our food, it’s- it’s how I can take care of you. So. I don’t mind.”

He was the one trying to avoid Jaskier’s gaze, now. The mutations made sure he wasn’t able to blush, but boy did he feel like he was. Eyes cast to the side, he tried to say the last thing he had on his mind, because it felt like it mattered.

“And I- I’m happy that you’re here. On the path with me, I mean. And you’ll be welcome for as long as you want. But you don’t have to feel- obliged to stay,” he choked out, because now that it had been said, Jaskier would surely leave, no matter what he had told before. Geralt thought of the coast, of a blue-eyed man laughing on a beach, throwing a stick for his dog to fetch. “I know you’ll want to leave, and when that time comes I’ll make sure to bring you to safety, not because I don’t think you couldn’t handle yourself but because I know I- I know I would want to- to travel with you one last time.”

Silence fell on the room, but not the right kind of silence. It was not a comforting one, not the kind of soothing silence that seemed to wrap you in a hug, the kind that felt like balm gently applied to a burn; no, it was an burning one, a silence so loud that it hurt, and Geralt found that it was hard for him to breathe. He had said his piece, and now Jaskier knew.

The flame flickered and shadows danced around them, and he found himself wishing that it had been a windy night, because at least that sound would have filled the silence that was suffocating him. Geralt was still waiting for Jaskier to reply something, anything, to yell at him or to let out a relieved smile that would mean Yes, finally, I am free, but Jaskier’s face was completely blank and Geralt didn’t know what that meant.

“Or- or if you don’t want that,” he scrambled to say, suddenly understanding why Jaskier was always talking to fill the silence, “I wouldn’t accompany you, I don’t want you to-”

“Is that why you’ve been so odd lately?” Jaskier interrupted him, frowning, his blue eyes clear despite the low luminosity. “Because you think I want to leave?”

“Yes,” Geralt admitted, not daring to speak too much when Jaskier was finally saying something – and wasn’t that ironic.

“Geralt,” Jaskier started, and the seriousness in his voice almost made Geralt shiver of anxiousness, “the only reason I would leave would be if I wasn’t wanted anymore. Which, if I’m being honest” he added, lips stretched in a bitter smile, “was what I was thinking was happening.”

Jaskier closed his eyes, and to Geralt’s horror he saw tears making their way down his face. He ached to tenderly wipe them out, but knew he couldn’t.

“Jaskier-” he said, suddenly desperate to get the words out, to make this right, to make them right again, “about the other night- when I snapped at you because you said that Butterscotch liked me- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it.”

His friend sighed. It was a tired sigh, a weary one.

“That’s the thing, Geralt – you never mean it,” he smiled, but his smile was as happy as his sigh had been. “But whether you mean it or not, your words, the very few of them that I’m blessed enough to hear – they hurt.”

Geralt could only stare helplessly as Jaskier went on, tears still streaming down his face.

“You are my most precious friend, Geralt, and that’s why I have- why I didn’t say anything. Because you mean well, you’re a good person, and just being around you makes me – it makes me happy, Geralt, to be able to care for you, to give you the few things I have, because with you everything is just – better. And in the end,” he added, wiping out his tears with the back of his hand, “in the end the way I feel when I’m near you is worth the pain your words put me through. You are worth – everything, Geralt of Rivia.”

How had they arrived here? How, after years spent traveling together, could Geralt have been so blind about how he made Jaskier feel?

To learn that he had caused so much anguish and pain to the person he loved the most was making Geralt ache. His first reaction was to dismiss what Jaskier had just said about him, but that was part of the problem, wasn’t it? 

“I-,” Geralt tried, tried to be honest and to show more than just aggression for once, “I don’t think of myself that way, so it’s difficult for me to- to think that anyone would. Especially-” he gulped, fighting to get the words out because it felt like if he didn’t, he would lose Jaskier for good, “Especially someone as- as- perfect as you. And it was easier to just dismiss it and push you away than to think about how much – how much I care about you. Because caring about people is – dangerous. Gives them power over you, gives your enemies something to use against you.”

Jaskier was looking at him, hands on his tights; he wasn’t crying anymore, but tears were threatening to fall once again. Geralt hopped, prayed, that it wasn’t because he was hurting him again.

“But you have to know that-,” he started, then stopped because he didn’t know how to say it. “I- I don’t know how to tell you,” he finally admitted. “It’s- like- despite how dangerous it is, I- I let myself care about you, and I- I don’t regret it. I will never regret it, Jaskier, because you are – a blessing. You are a beautiful, perfect thing that my hands don’t know how to touch without breaking it.”

He ached to reach out, to take one the hand that he had been holding earlier.

“So it’s- it’s easier to-”

He had no choice but to say it, hadn’t he? He couldn’t lie to Jaskier anymore, he wouldn’t lie to Jaskier anymore – though was it a lie, to keep the truth silent? He was being a coward and he knew it, but being Jaskier’s friend was better than to confess and to lose his warmth entirely. Though he had been a bad friend to the bard, and – well.

“It was easier to act as if it meant nothing than to admit that I love you,” he mumbled rapidly, afraid that his courage would fail him.

Now that the truth was out in the air, he didn’t dare to glance at Jaskier. What would the look on his face be? Disgust? Pity? Or, somehow worse, just a blank look, synonym of the doom of their already fragile relationship?

“Geralt,” Jaskier breathed out, and his voice sounded teary but the sadness from earlier had disappeared. “Is that how you’re thinking? That love is a – liability? That loving me is a liability?”

“That’s how I used to think,” Geralt corrected him, “before I realized that I was wrong. And that’s why – that’s why Butterscotch scares me. Because he’s young, but he will die, and I know that it’ll hurt and-”

“Darling,” Jaskier interrupted, moving on the bed to be sitting next to Geralt, their tights pressed together. Geralt could hear his heartbeat, knew that the other man was nervous, but the closeness felt like acceptance and maybe, maybe, requited love. A hand found his, and Geralt squeezed it without thinking. “Geralt,” Jaskier sighed, “Why do you focus so much on what is going to happen? It prevents you from enjoying life, darling. Butterscotch will die one day, yes, and I know that it will bring me pain, that it will hurt us both. But is that all that you’re thinking about when you see him playing in the dirt? When he sleeps soundly next to you? When you hear a song, darling, do you think about its last notes or do you listen to its melody?”

“I-”

“I’d be a hypocrite,” Jaskier’s voice dropped lower as if he was sharing a secret, “if I didn’t admit that when we meet up in spring, I can’t help but think about the day we’ll go on our separate ways, because it might be the last time I’ll see you. But then I- I force myself not to think about it, because at least six months of the year will be spent next to you, next to the man I love, and-”

“You love me?” Geralt interrupted him, turning his head to look at Jaskier. His red-rimmed blue eyes had never looked more beautiful.

“Of course I do, Geralt, how could I not?”

Jaskier dropped his head on Geralt's shoulder. Geralt didn’t know where their conversation was going, didn’t understand what had just happened – he had been this close to losing Jaskier, had felt the bard closing off, and now they were next to one another, Jaskier’s hair tickling his cheek.

“So that means I- you- forgive me?”

Jaskier stayed silent, but didn’t draw away.

“Yes,” he finally replied, and Geralt frowned slightly.

“I’m not sure I deserve your forgiveness,” he started, squeezing Jaskier’s hand when he felt that the other man was about to say something, “but I will do my best to deserve it. I will – I will be more careful with you, Julek,” he swore.

They stayed silent for a bit, but this time Geralt didn’t feel as though he couldn’t breathe. The room around them felt more welcoming, the orange light from the candle warmer than it had been earlier.

“What does that mean for us?” Jaskier asked, and he sounded – hesitant, but hopeful. It was a question easy for Geralt to answer, because he had always been better at acts than at words.

“It means that we’ll stay as long as Butterscotch needs us to, and then we’ll go on with our travels. Maybe we’ll stay near the coast, there are always villages that are in need of witchers there. Butterscotch will go play in the water and I’ll complain when he’ll shake himself, but I’ll give him treats when you won’t be looking.”

A pause, then.

“But he still won’t be allowed to sleep on the bed.”

Jaskier snorted, and Geralt felt relieved beyond measure.

“For now, though,” Geralt added, “I think we should sleep. I did just come back from a hunt, after all, and it is quite late in the night.”

“My poor, dear witcher,” Jaskier smiled, and Geralt tried not to let it show how much it pleased him to be called Jaskier’s until he remembered that actually showing how he felt was important, “you must be exhausted. No kiss for you, then, only resting.”

Geralt raised an eyebrow at Jaskier who was looking at him, mirth lighting up his eyes.

“I’m not that tired,” he objected, and Jaskier chuckled.

“Aren’t you? Then I guess I could be convinced to kiss you goodnight.”

Their kiss wasn’t mind-blowing. It just – was. Jaskier’s cheeks were still damp from his crying and their kiss tasted a bit like salt and the angle was weird, but Jaskier sighed in his mouth, a happy sigh, and Geralt found out that he couldn’t wait to do that for the rest of their lives.

Soon they would leave this place and travel, and Geralt would get more injuries and Jaskier would write more songs; but he tried not to think about it, and found it not so difficult to focus on the moment when Jaskier kissed him again.

It was a short kiss, a chaste one; it was a promise for more to come, for sunny days spent in laughter and gloomy evenings spent next to each other, for arguments and reconciliations, and for a life in each other’s company. Just him, Jaskier, and their dog – and Roach. 

[jaskiersvalley]

thoughts on a centaur au? Jask is a Buck and Geralt is probably one of those Draft horses! maybe when jask goes to Kaer Morhen they are fascinated with Jasks' antlers and Lambert hangs shit on them like Lil'Bleater or bowls

This ask made me do some happy wiggles of excitement because centaurs!! I adore your idea of Lambert hanging things on Jaskier’s antlers and we’ll get there, but first, I think a bit of tension is needed :D

The forest was overrun with men who hunted indiscriminately. Jaskier had been avoiding them y climbing higher and higher up the mountain he had always been warned away from. But he figured that nothing the mountain hid could be worse than what the humans were doing. At least, he thought that while it was daylight and he had energy. Now thought, it was dark, getting cold and Jaskier was hungry. He hadn’t had the chance to grab provisions as he had fled, an arrow glancing off his side, leaving a sluggishly bleeding gouge. Around him, the trees had stopped being large and welcoming with the sun peeking through them. Instead, they loomed menacingly, hiding any number of evil threats.

Exhausted, Jaskier couldn’t go on any longer. He found a small clearing next to the path, haphazardly gathered up a few armfuls of leaves for a makeshift nest and curled up as small as he could, hoping none of the howling creatures would stumble upon him. Sleep, no matter how tired he was, didn’t come easy. Every small snap of twig had Jaskier flinching, trying to listen out for anything prowling closer. Heart fluttering in his chest, Jaskier tried to calm himself yet he didn’t dare even hum to soothe his worries.

He was so caught up in calming his heart and stopping his trembling, Jaskier missed the soft fall of heavy hooves.

“You sure have strayed far from your patch, little buck,” a deep voice all but growled and Jaskier was up, legs buckling nervously as he looked up at the new arrival. He was big, taller and broader than Jaskier. “What brings you to our territory?”

Our?! Jaskier’s breath hitched as he twisted and saw that two more similarly built centaurs had materialised from between the trees. He was surrounded, outnumbered and outclassed. If he had been less exhausted and not injured, Jaskier might have been able to outrun them but, in his current state, he couldn’t even slip past them in all likelihood.

“I was hoping for a quiet, peaceful night in relative safety,” he managed to spit back, wit and tongue still as sharp as ever even if his body wasn’t.

Eyes glinted in the dark, positively predatory. Worse, moonlight filtered through the trees and Jaskier caught sight of scars littering torsos and faces. There was nothing friendly or reassuring about the new arrivals. What Jaskier didn’t expect was a low rumble of laughter.

“You won’t find that here.” And Jaskier didn’t think he could have heard anything less friendly. He braced to make a break for it, willing to risk his all because the only other option was to stay put and die.

“Stop being mean, Lambert,” the one behind Jaskier sounded amused and a lot closer than he was a minute ago. Jaskier whirled around, head tipped down to at least look like his antlers could do some damage if he was pushed. “Relax, little buck, we mean no harm. Could smell your blood and merely came to investigate.”

A hand merrily smacked Jaskier’s rump and he bucked, kicking out and skittering away, colliding into a firm chest with a squeak.

“That was mean, Lambert,” the chest rumbled under Jaskier as hands helped right him. “Go check the traps and pick up our bundles. We’re done for tonight and heading back. Eskel, take the rear.”

The one who was evidently called Eskel grumbled something under his breath about them not being bleeding hearted softies but he still moved as told, offering Jaskier a small half smile.

“Apologies about our herd. Brutish but well meaning. Come back to our home, we’ll tend to your wounds and you’ll be free to go whenever you want. We’ll even give you some food for whatever journey it is you’re obviously embarked on.”

Options were slim pickings and Jaskier could either go with them or run. He was too tired to run though so he allowed himself to be led up the mountain. The path was difficult, he delicately stepped over larger cracks and holes in the ground that the others seemingly avoided naturally, like it was a habit of theirs.

Sooner than expected, they were outside a giant, sprawling keep. Parts of it were crumbling away but a good portion of it appeared to be well maintained.

“Welcome to Kaer Morhen,” the leader said, opening the doors.

“Geralt, what is the meaning of this?” Another large centaur asked, standing opposite the open door. In the flickering light of torches, Jaskier could see they were all draft horses but heavily scarred as if, rather than working in haulage, they fought for their keep.

“A stray. Found him just before the Forktail’s Pass.” Turning to Jaskier, Geralt smiled. “This is Vesemir.”

Vesemir looked about as welcoming as a pit filled with hungry wolves and when Jaskier was ushered past him, he tried to give the old and grizzly centaur a wide berth.

“Let’s have a look at your side then I’ll show you to bedroom.” Geralt said, ushering Jaskier into a room that looked like an infirmary. “Though Eskel’s usually better at healing.”

“Damn right I am,” a voice joined them and Eskel walked in. He should have looked so much more frightening in the light, what with scars marring his face and arms. Yet all Jaskier could see was someone who had a lot of pain in his past.

His side was gently prodded, cleaned and a light bandage was wrapped around it. All while Eskel was doing that, Geralt was silent in a corner and occasionally staring at Jaskier. Or rather, his antlers.

The bedroom Jaskier was shown to was basic but functional. Most importantly, is had a lock on the inside. Though what it would achieve was a mystery when any of the inhabitants of the old keep could probably very easily kick through the wood of the door. It didn’t stop Jaskier feeling a little better as he slid the lock into place. Exhausted, he pulled the knitted throws and pelts into a nest and curled up, leaning against the rest, pulling it away from the wall a little to make room for his antlers.

In the morning, Jaskier was disoriented and still tired. His stomach was actually hurting with hunger so, fighting down the worry, he opened the bedroom door and did his best to strut towards the sound of quiet murmurs and the smell of food. All chatter came to an abrupt stop as Jaskier all but pranced in. His rescuers were still terrifying but at least Jaskier didn’t think they were going to slaughter him immediately. At least, the pelts he’d slept on were all predator ones.

“Good morning my handsome heroes,” Jaskier forced a smile. Eyes followed his every step but nobody moved until Geralt cleared his throat.

“Help yourself to food.”

Permission granted, Jaskier helped himself, piling a plate high with food and trotting to the table. He could pretend this was normal, that he belonged, was one of the giants who lived here. Four sets of eyes were trained on him as he ate and he ignored them in favour of taking a bite and lauding the chef with a happy moan.

His hosts never stopped looking at him, sneaking glances even when they tried to get back to their own meal. Plates empty, it was Geralt who offered him a small smile.

“Shall I show you round?”

If Jaskier hadn’t had antlers, he was certain Geralt would have offered him an arm to guide him. However, too close, Jaskier had to turn his head so he didn’t take Geralt’s eyes out. They had stopped in the courtyard when Geralt finally mustered up some courage.

“May I?” His hands were raised towards Jaskier, reaching for his antlers.

“Of course!” Jaskier even dipped his head to allow it, appreciating how gentle and soft Geralt had been on their impromptu tour. “I shed them once a year. Probably due to do it in a few weeks.”

A wicked smirk split Geralt’s lips wide. “I have an idea.”

There was a general fascination with Jaskier’s antlers amongst the others. While Geralt asked for permission to touch them, Eskel only looked at them surreptitiously. Lambert, on the other hand, was on a mission to be secretive and mischievous. The first time Jaskier ended up with a sausage on his antlers, he thought he’d had a mishap at breakfast and thought nothing of it.

However, the incidents kept up. There was a paper chain, carefully crafted that was draped to span his antlers after Jaskier woke from a nap. For the rest of the day, he proudly wore it, suspecting Lambert was the culprit behind the draping. Though the crafting of the chain was much more the kind of thing Eskel would do. It became a game after that, Jaskier noticed. While the others worked tirelessly to keep their keep and surrounding lands safe and their gardens free of pests, they needed some downtime. Which was where Jaskier seemed to fill a hole in their lives. Singing and bringing a splash of colour and art into their lives, Jaskier was reluctant to leave. Especially when Geralt invited him to late evening walks through Vesemir’s rose garden. It was all incredibly sweet.

As sweet as it was, Jaskier was a bit outraged when he woke up to see Lambert hightailing it out of the room and half the kitchen hung on his antlers, clanging bad enough to make Jaskier jump which only dislodged more pots, adding to the noise.

His antlers had been itching for a few days and Jaskier longed to find a good tree to rub against. Instead, he got to ask Geralt to rub the bases for him.

“Payback is going to be so sweet,” Geralt rumbled and Jaskier nodded. The antlers were a little loose. All he needed was something a little heavier on them and they’d likely fall. “I’ll encourage him.”

Sure enough, when Jaskier was pretending to snooze the next afternoon, Lambert appeared with Eskel’s prized goat. It was a sweet, placid thing, Jaskier quite liked Li’l Bleater. He watched as Lambert approached and hefted the goat up. The weight of a happy goat settled on Jaskier’s antlers and there was a small snicker from Lambert. Eskel rounded the corner and he froze at the sight. Which was the exact moment there was a crack and one of the antler fell.

Lambert caught Li’l Bleater before he could fall but there was horror on his face as he watched Jaskier’s antler on the floor.

“Oh fuck. Oh fucking fuckity fuck.” Lambert backed away and even Eskel looked too stunned to do anything.

Pretending to wake up, Jaskier shuffled around and froze when he so obviously caught sight of his antler. Raising a hand, he patted where the antler had been and, with his best acting skills, looked up at Lambert with devastation in his eyes.

“What have you done to me?”

There was a shriek and Lambert crashed into Eskel as he tried to run away. They stumbled, legs tangling and Vesemir came running to see what the upheaval was.

Jaskier was already doubled over laughing and, from the other side of the room, he could hear Geralt hooting.

“I broke the buck!” Lambert cried. “I broke him.”

Vesemir took one look at the scene, stomped over to cuff Lambert on the back of the head and turned to give Jaskier the same treatment.

“Idiots. The lot of you.” However, his eyes strayed to the antler on the floor. “You got use for that?”

“It’s yours, parental figure of the herd,” Jaskier leaned down to pick the antler up and offered it to Vesemir.

“You’ll do,” Vesemir snorted and took the antler, much more gently than Jaskier had expected. “You know your way round already. Stay as long as your heart desires. And maybe ask Geralt about his heart too.”

He gracefully ignored the snickering comment from Lambert about getting the old breeding block out. Though Eskel did cuff him on the back of the head for good measure. Jaskier had never felt more at home or more accepted. He decided he could easily spend several seasons at Kaer Morhen, seeing if it could truly become the home he’d craved all his life.

[prose-for-hire]

Clueless

Pairing: Angel x reader

Request: As I said, Spike will always be my favorite, but every now and then you gotta mix it up. 😅 So here comes my Angel request! 😀 The scoobies find out he has a human girlfriend. And when they meet you they get the impression that you have no idea of the supernatural. So they try to subtly prod if you're aware of what Angel is. You on the other hand are enjoying to play with them. Pretending to be clueless as hell even though you're well aware. 😂 Thank you Darling! 💞

Requested by: @kind-wolf​

A/N: I really enjoyed this one !! Reader is older than the Scoobies and works in the school library. The timescale is reaaally made up. Giles left to open the Magic Box while the Scoobies are still in high school.

[Also i know the gif has nothing to do with anything but it makes me giggle every time so I had to use it !!]

You were the new School librarian. Giles had left to open the Magic Box but still always managed to be in your library when you turned around. The excuse at the moment was that his personal collection had been left behind, but you new there was something more going on. You had a boyfriend that told you of the real side of Sunnydale.

His name was Angel. You had met him after dark, a shining ember amongst all of the despair. He was kind to you and you had kept running into each other until he decided it must be fate. So he asked you on a date. It was the Bronze and you both stuck out like a sore thumb – him for his dark clothing and because you were both slightly older than the regular clientele. You and Angel had been going steady for a while now. He was heavy into courting and doing everything properly. He wanted to keep you happy and ensure you felt safe with him at all times.

He called you his sunshine. You were the one thing that made his un-life worth living. The brightness in the centuries of black. The fiery flame of passion that could never be put out. You were his light. A kind of salvation he didn’t know he needed. All of his guilt. The doubt. The brooding about whether he was enough for you, for the world. For any of it. You filled in these cracks with light. With love and the most important thing: hope.

He knew that he needed to limit the amount of people that knew about you together to a minimum. You hadn’t understood why at first, but one evening when you had been wrapped around each other in bed, he confided in you. His relationships were not destined to last. Literally. He told you everything, almost reducing the both of you to an emotional mess. You laid there, underneath the sheets as you both recounted the worst moments of your lives. The secrets, the fears. Everything.

“Are you embarrassed about dating a human? Is it frowned upon in vampire… culture?” You asked, half embarrassed and half fascinated. He shook his head as you were still speaking, clasping a hand to yours and brought it to his unbeating heart.

“I, uh, just want this for us. You’re too special to me, y/n. I don’t want anyone else to ruin it. I love you more than you can imagine”

“You love me?” You ask, eyes shining with emotion. He nodded, pulling you into him as you told him how much you loved him back. Your voice muffled as you rested in the crook of his neck. He held you to him so delicately as if he was scared that you would break. That if he didn’t hold tight enough, you would disappear into nothing.

The Scoobies had caught glimpses of you around school and sometimes after school when you popped into the magic Box to ask to speak with Giles. Just to ask for tips on your new job in the library (and to check if he had stolen any of the dusty occult books you had started to lock away in case he was snooping again). You didn’t really know the Scoobies, you just recognised their faces from around school and now obviously you had heard the lowdown from Angel. But you weren’t so familiar that you could tell which one the slayer was if you were asked to pick her out of a line up.

One afternoon after you called your goodbyes to Giles and nodded at the teenagers on your way out of the store, talk quickly turned to you. Anya, Xander, Willow, Buffy and Cordelia were all whispering before the door had even closed properly behind you. The Scoobies loved to gossip. And each of them had their own titbit of information that they had heard from someone who had heard from someone else about you. Even Giles had become involved in the discussion as he had started to become aware you were making his life difficult and

“I heard they mastered kung-fu judo which is the most lethal form of martial arts”

“Apparently they were fired from their last school for literally throwing students out for talking too loud in the library”

“Well, they’re apparently an undercover agent planted by the CIA to monitor the supernatural”

“I heard that one – but they’re FBI, not CIA”

The piece of information they found most interesting was that you were human. Despite being the coolest librarian like, ever. Most of the librarians the student body had come across were positively fossils, most recent librarians not included. Suspected kung fu martial arts hybrid training aside, you didn’t have any supernatural powers to speak of. As far as anyone was aware. So, this became the most interesting thing about you, until Cordelia told all.

“They’re totally sleeping with Angel!” Cordelia said, as everyone looked extremely interested in this news, “I saw him open a door for them as if they were in some period drama! Way over the top but their eyes said everything! They’re having sex”

“You can’t tell that from a look”

“You can!” Anya insisted as Cordelia nodded along.

“Yeah, I can tell from hot librarian and the salty goodness that is Angel” Cordelia replied matter-of-factly.

“Do you think they know he’s-” Xander mimed fangs and held his hands up to imitate a vampire, “They can’t know. Why would anyone want to do that with Angel?” Xander insisted as the women of the room, and Giles, stayed silent. He looked around looking for some support for his statement but got nothing.

But now the fact was, they were concerned that Angel hadn’t told you about himself. The vampirism. The soul. The curse. So, the meddling kids decided it was their duty to make sure that they were acquainted with you and made sure you knew who Angel really was. Which was exactly what Angel presumed was going to happen. They were convinced that they were worried about how clueless you obviously were, but also it was their duty is seemed to get involved in other people’s personal lives.

This had been the plan, but it appeared that you were a very busy. You never stayed long hours after the school day ended like Giles used to. Nobody could follow you home because you always sped off in a shiny car. Plus, you often wore headphones in the corridors so you didn’t have to talk to the students.

It had been a while after their plans to befriend you and they had almost given up seeing you in your private time. They wanted to make sure the rumours weren’t true. That Angel wasn’t taking advantage of some clueless human.

Unfortunately, the whole gang stumble into you both while they’re on patrol. On date night. their eyes widen, it looks so normal. You’re both sat in the restaurant in the window seat and they all just stopped and very obviously stared. As if you were zoo animals. They noticed that Angel had ordered human food and had been moving it around the plate a little for appearances. This confirmed it. they decided they needed to save you. Who knew what horrible bad luck would befall you if you kept dating a vampire. 

Angel looked a little embarrassed when he sensed being watched and looked up to see none other than the people he had wanted to keep this from. Buffy had scowled at him, shaking her head. She wasn’t impressed that he would do this. Especially if you didn’t know – it wasn’t fair she decided. You noticed his look but didn’t comment until the group had walked past with their wooden stakes badly concealed under their jackets.

After your meal, you walk back together (he always insists on walking you to your car) and you softly ask why he was embarrassed. You wondered if it was because you were a librarian. You tell him you know people don’t think it’s a great job, but you really enjoy it.

“They just don’t think us being together is a great idea” He said and you nodded along. You understood. There was a history there. The Slayer obviously is the only one that makes and breaks the rules.

“Well lets introduce them to me properly?” You offer, trying to soothe him. Reduce the fretting. He had wanted just one thing. One good thing that was yours and his. “I know they’ve been trying to talk to me all week. I’ll make some lemonade and you can invite them over” You offer. He nodded, curling an arm around you as you walk together both in thought.

It had been a week and the day was finally here. You were meeting the... friends? Weird kind-of family? Annoying brats that were always under both of your feet? 

Angel had gone out to pick up some blood from the butchers before it closed now that the sun was down. This left you hosting solo for the moment. You showed them to Angel’s living room and started to offer them lemonade and snacks. They start dropping hints instantly to try and gauge whether you know about Slayers or vampires. For some reason, you decide to play dumb.

“Have you, uh, ever seen Angel’s teeth up close?” Willow asked, barely above a whisper.

“Yes, we do kiss if that’s what you’re asking sweetie. Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll have your first kiss soon” You smiled at her mock-sympathetically as you turned to the rest of the room.

“What about, ah, those specialist books I told you about, y/n? Have you read them as of late?” Giles questioned, his hint much craftier than the younger members of the group. The books had been vampire history and very specifically passages were highlighted about Angels past.

“Oh yes, Angel said he would give me the overview - he’s read them before” You smile as Giles shook his head and started to clean his glasses. This wasn’t a lie, Angel had told you instead of reading through that book he would tell you anything that yo uwanted to ask. Every gruesome detail if that was what you needed. But you had told him you cared for the person you knew now instead. “Isn’t he just the perfect man?” You continue, smiling dreamily (which if you’re honest isn’t even an act). 

“Man isn’t the word I’d use” Xander muttered and Buffy had to elbow him to make him be quiet. You frowned, but they didn’t realise that you had caught onto what they were doing. Angel entered and the room quietened. He nodded at everyone but came straight to sit beside you.

You sat comfortably, leaning against Angel as chatter started to warm up a little again. After a while, there was a bit of doubt from some in the room whether meddling was the right thing to do or not. You appeared friendly and you definitely cared about Angel. And he definitely cared for you. His eye was always on you and he had kissed your forehead more than once when he thought the others were wrapped up in conversation.

“Do you like Halloween? What about vam-” Cordelia was cut off as she yelped and scowled as someone had stepped on her toes to get her to be quiet. Especially after he had already said something himself that could have made things obvious. You and Angel shared a look and then a shrug as conversation started up again.

You excused yourself to make more lemonade after three more not-so-subtle-hints about your man’s true identity and Angel followed you. Meanwhile, they were whispering about how clueless you appeared and how familiar you both were in front of them – as if you were going to hide that you were in a committed relationship. You knew this as Angel was telling you everything that they said, between light kisses he was pressing against your neck. From your position pressed between his body and the kitchen counter you were grinning as you rested a hand against his side and used the other to lock your hand with his. He hummed softly, only able to get through this strange indirect interrogation was that he knew he always had you.

When you returned and offered everyone refills, one of them asked while you were pouring, “Does, uh, Angel like garlic bread?”

“You might have to ask him on that one, we’re still getting to know each other” you smile sweetly before catching Angel’s eye. He raised his eyes at you but didn’t say anything to ruin the fun. In fact, he had a glint in his eye too. This was the reason he loved you, you turned even a potentially serious situation with the Slayer into something that you could make fun.

 “Uh, have you ever seen Angel in the light?” the questioning continued.

“Have you seen his face? He’s beautiful in any lighting” You smiled sweetly, looking over at him again. He shook his head at you and you knew he’d be blushing if he had any circulation.

“Yeah but- in the daylight?”

“No, he has a sun allergy, isn’t that right sweetie?” You smiled around the room at their horrified faces. They knew it! They knew Angel had been lying, they just needed to find a way to break the news to you. Or warn him away from you.

When asked about his (and your) sleeping habits, you replied, “Some nights he’s dead to the world” You smile, “He sleeps really deep, sometimes I have to check on him – it looks like he isn’t breathing” You have to stifle a laugh at this one as Angel snorts out loud. It was awkwardly covered by a cough and he had to leave the room to hide his laughter.

He was happy with you, the only sunshine he wasn’t allergic to apparently. He was so happy in this relationship he was often worried that Angelus was only around the corner. You caught him stuck in his head, worrying about the what-ifs but you always offered your comfort any way you could. He was glad of you being there for him. Willow and Giles had been talking of working on a way to lift the curse, or at least make it so that it wasn’t so simple for him to change back into Angelus. That was the last thing any of them needed.

The evening started to darken further and conversation had started to lull. You were trying to think of a way to politely hint yourself that maybe it was time for them to go (your hints a lot more subtle and well-practiced than theirs). But before you had chance to open your mouth, you were interrupted, “Demons. Thoughts?” Anya asked bluntly. Nobody cut in this time, they wanted to hear your response now they suspected Angel was lying.

“The ones that creep in late at night when you’re trying to sleep? I try and just ignore them, or get a book to read if I really can’t sleep” You say smiling as you knew Angel had heard that one too when some plates clattered in the other room. You knew him inside out and, although rare, when something like this tickled him it really made him smile. You just wished he had been in the room so you could see his expression. His face lightened when he smiled and you told him all the time his smile was your favourite feature of his. He would also probably be shaking his head at you, trying to discourage you from getting into too much trouble with them.

Angel returned to the room and you couldn’t help yourself. You stood up and instantly closed the space between you. You looped your arms around his neck and kissed him softly on the lips. It was only a lingering peck, nothing too scandalous as these were students at your job. You always missed him when he wasn’t close by. You felt like a lovestruck teenager when he was around and admittedly, so did he. Giles saw the way you both looked at each other. Moved around each other, anticipating  and saw how real it was. It was the same he had with Jenny. He couldn’t let the rest of the group ruin this kind of love. It was rare and he wouldn’t wish it on anyone to lose it (not even the man with the face that tore his from him).

Giles shook his head as Buffy was about to shout something to break you both apart. Something about demons and vampires. About Angel and evil. His apparent lying. To try and warn you. She closed her mouth, rolling her eyes.

 “We need to go patrol- uh, not patrolling, just – walking. At night” She muttered instead, taking her jacket and giving Angel a hard stare.

“Make sure you watch out for vampires. There’s a couple extra stakes in the weapon’s closet if you’d like to take them” You smile sweetly, “You can never be too careful, some bite” you teased before kissing Angel on the cheek and reluctantly moving from his arms which were loosely looped around your waist still. You started walking over to clear the coffee table from the glasses everyone had used when they visited. Leaving the others wide-eyed and eventually laughing at the way you had kept up the pretence so well.

[dontmindmyshadowhunting]

Am I forgotten ? (KitTy Fan Fic)

KitTy fan fic based on Kit and Ty’s flower cards (art by Cassandra Jean), to celebrate the release of Ty’s latest flower card. I alternate between Kit and Ty’s POV.

If you prefer reading it on AO3 or if you have missed the previous chapters, Link is here. AO3 Link - Am I forgotten? 

Following Chapter is Chapter 5 - Blinded by the Sun

*****

Tiberius had never understood the concept of nightclubs. Of sharing loud music, like cacophony in his ears. Of sharing breath and body odors in the same crowded space. Of physical contact with mere strangers. No matter how large the room, he felt like he was trapped. Like he couldn’t breathe. Like all his senses were challenged, driven to the brink of explosion.

Tiberius clutched his pendant, his fingers reflexively stroking the heron shape in a soothing gesture he had made a habit of whenever he was confronted with stressful situations such as this one.

He had been in such a hurry that he had left the Institute without his headphones. This had been a terrible mistake. And Ty did not make mistakes. His mind never faltered, never betrayed him. Except, this was not entirely true. It only took one look into a pair of blue eyes for his mind to come tumbling down like a house of cards, as if hit by a storm, leaving a jumbled mess of incoherent thoughts.

He wasn’t going to be able to go through with it. He had to get out of here, and come back in through a back door. Not the best plan if you tried to remain inconspicuous. But this was a matter of life and death. He couldn’t stay one minute longer in this noisy, giant tin can.

He was moving towards the general direction of the exit, trying to find a clear path through the throng of strangers, when a hand gripped his shoulder. He fought the urge to take the hand off. Literally. To cut it off.

“Not so fast, Dark and Brooding” said a girly voice. Tiberius turned to look at his assailant. He could see under the glamour that she was a blue-haired Faerie. He knew enough about Faeries to know which kind. A mermaid.

“Oh my, but you are gorgeous,” she said, her eyes widening, before zeroing in on the Runes partially visible under his shirt. “I have always wanted to do it with a Shadowhunter… and you, my dear, appear to be one of their finest specimens.”

“Sorry, not interested,” Ty answered in a clipped tone. Although his gaze was directed at her collarbone, his posture must have sent a warning, because she withdrew her hand as if she had been burnt. 

He was about to move past her, doing his best to avoid physical contact, when he caught the change of expression in her face. She looked stunned, as if she had just seen the sun rising in the dark windowless room, her lips parting in awe. But she was not looking at him. Her gaze was directed at something - someone? - behind his left shoulder. Ty tensed and spun.

Kit was standing there, a grin showing white perfect teeth plastered on his face, his blond hair elegantly tousled as if he had just gotten out of bed looking like other people did after three hours at the hairdressing salon.

Actually, he looked like the Angel himself had decided to shrink to human size to walk upon the earth for one single night of debauchery. His thin white shirt did nothing to hide his muscular torso, and the broadness of his shoulders was barely concealed under a tanned leather jacket. He looked as if he owned the place. As if he could snap his fingers and get anyone to do his bidding. As if he knew he could but did not care. He looked dangerous.

And he was all Ty could see, as if he - not unlike the Faerie - had been blinded by the sun. There was only him. It was as if the crowd had vanished, as if the music had been turned off. 

Except, Ty’s heart had started playing staccato inside his chest.

****

It had not been difficult to find Ty among the crowd. Not only was he one of the tallest figures in the room, he stood out. Even as packed with Downworlders as this club was. It was as if a fairy tale character had lost his way in the modern world. Kit almost expected Sleeping Beauty or Snow White to come strolling around in the room, looking for him. The artificial lights gave his pale white skin an eerie glow, making him look even more surreal. 

As soon as Kit saw him across the room, he fought the urge to fight his way through to get to him as fast as he could. Even from a distance, he could see from Ty’s stance that he was in pain.  

Upon seeing him, Ty’s eyes widened in surprise, but he didn’t acknowledge him otherwise. He seemed to be in a state of shock. Well, you weren’t expecting me, were you?

“Sorry, I am late,” Kit said, resting his hand casually on Ty’s shoulder. Ty leaned into his touch and relaxed infinitesimally. “Difficult to find a cab in Manhattan these days.” 

The Faerie who had appeared to be talking to Ty was joined by two of her friends and the three of them were giggling and staring at Kit, as if he were a movie star who had just shown up at the club after his Premiere. Good. Focus on me. Ty doesn’t want that kind of attention.

“Evening, ladies,” he said in his most pleasant voice. “Have you been enjoying yourselves so far?”

One of the Faeries batted her eyelashes at him. “It has just turned into a very interesting evening.”

“Happy to be of service,” Kit said. He executed what he hoped was an elegant bow. It must have been, seeing how his fangirls had turned hysterical. Well, he had learnt from the best.

He mouthed a silence thanks to Jem, then turned to Ty, whispering urgently in his ear. “So, who are we planning to kill tonight?”

“Not kill. Interrogate. A Faerie. I will recognize him as soon as I see him. Two, maybe three bodyguards.” Ty jerked his head towards the far end of the room. “He will probably be spending most of the evening in one of the private rooms in the VIP section.”

Kit’s mind was racing. All his training had led to this moment. Adrenaline was coursing through his veins, and he was beginning to sense the thrill of the fight. Now was his chance to show Ty just how much he had changed from the harmless mundane to the skilled Shadowhunter. But first things first. He needed a plan.

He turned to the puzzled faces of the three Faeries who hadn’t moved from their position during his whispered exchange with Ty.

“Apologies, fair ones,” Kit said. “We’d love to stay and chat but my friend and I had a long night. We are heading home. Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

He pulled Ty away from the Faeries’ disappointed faces, to a more secluded corner of the club, with a direct view of the double doors leading to the private section of the club. He started racking his brain for a plan.

“Should we use the ladies as bait?” He asked after a moment. “We could go back and find them. We would make sure, of course, that no harm comes to them.”

Ty shot him a puzzled look before realization dawned on him.

“No,” he replied. “ From what I hear, he has a preference for….” He cleared his throat. “Men.” 

Kit paused to consider this new information. As he did, he noticed that Ty was searching his face, his eyes moving restlessly, as if he was looking for something there. What are you looking for, Ty?

“Ty,” Kit said after a moment. “Do you remember when Mark had to pretend he was in a relationship with Kieran? Do you think you could play the part of... my boyfriend tonight?” 

He hoped Ty hadn’t noticed the way his voice had risen to a high pitch when he uttered the word “boyfriend”.

Kit understood his mistake a second too late. Ty stiffened and a wave of pure panic crossed his delicate features. His hands were shaking as he grasped the heron-shaped pendant tied around his neck. My gift to him, Kit realized with a jolt. Trusting his instincts, Kit caught Ty in his arms, squeezing hard, and started stroking his shoulders, his back, applying as much pressure as he could. Ty heaved a sigh of relief and relaxed under Kit’s touch, nuzzling his face against Kit’s neck. Kit was able to breathe easily again. He had made the right call.

“Ty- Ty, I am sorry,” he said. “It was just an idea I had. A stupid idea. I will come up with another plan.”

“No, Kit,” Ty said in a quavering voice, muffled against Kit’s shoulder. “I want to help you. Except that… I don’t know how... How to act. How to play a part. I wouldn’t know what to do. Tell me what I need to do.”

“Nothing, Ty. I am not asking you to do anything. I will do the talking. You just need to… come along. I just wanted to warn you in case I touched you in… inappropriate ways.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it.”

“That’s alright,” Ty said, in a clearer voice. “You didn’t have to ask. You can touch me anywhere you want to. I don’t mind if it’s you.” I don’t mind if it’s you. Butterflies were fluttering inside Kit’s chest and around his stomach.

“Don’t worry. I’ve got you, Ty. I’ve got you...” 

It was Kit’s own way of speaking the words he couldn’t say. I love you, Ty. I love you.

Too soon, he released Ty from his embrace, took his hand and, together, they moved towards the far end of the room.

*****

Tagging @arangiajoan @nenyx @naerysthelonesome​ @adoravel-fenomeno @unorganisedbookshelf @blindbandit1515 @whyhastgodfarsakenme @noah-herondale-lightwood @georgiaherondale @nicotheangel17 @joonjxne @that-dreamer-girl-m @mariiaarranz @writeforjordelia @shadowfae1878 @majollica-blog @mferraz ​@darkkitai @justanothermultifandomgirl @kitty-appreciation-week @gabtapia

and anyone who wants of course

[lululawrence]

Wordplay 5.0 Reflections

I dunno what else to call it lmao it doesn't sound right to call this a meme, but whatever it is, here we are! lol @so-why-let-your-voice-be-tamed came up with these questions after @wordplayfics wrapped up last year and I love them so i'm gonna use them for this year as well.

I'm going to start out with listing the prompts and linking the fics i wrote for each one for everyone's reference, though I'll be linking them again through the answers as well. I'm also putting all the questions and answers beneath a read more because, as usual, I rambled lmao Alright! Here we go!

Struggle: I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right Reduce: I Love This Feeling (But I Hate This Part) Divide: He Carries The Key Rise: Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy Sketch: I Heard You Talking

How did you come up with your ideas for the fics? Can you take us through your process after first receiving the prompt?

I don't know that I have a set way I come up with my fic ideas for Wordplay. It all depends on the prompt and what fic ideas I've got on my "to write list" that might fit that prompt. If nothing on my to write list fits or can be tweaked for a prompt, then I just go through my prompts tag until something strikes me for it, or I just ruminate on the different ways the word can be used and see if something comes up.

So, when I did the random word generator for the first prompt and "struggle" was the word that came up, I immediately thought of "struggle bus". lolllll and when I went looking through my to write list, I saw the girl Payneshaw fic I wanted to write and I was like omgggggg Nick ABSOLUTELY is riding the struggle bus the ENTIRE FUCKING TIME and I knew that was my fic for the week. lmaoooo and there you have it.

What is your favorite fic you wrote for Wordplay this year?

oooohhhh this one is HARD AND MEAN lmaoooo i forgot this was a question asked. okay legitimately i cannot choose a favorite because i'm actually stupidly proud and happy with all of the fics i wrote this year.

If you’ve participated in previous years of Wordplay, what has been your favorite prompt from all years you participated in?

WELP. as the creator of this challenge, i've participated in all 5 years which means there've been 25 prompts i've written. lolllll and honestly i think my favorite prompt is STILL from the first year. it was "bloodsucker". like, how great of a prompt is that???

What was the shortest fic you wrote this year? The longest?

the shortest one this year was... I Said It Wrong, But I Meant It Right at 4381 words.

the longest one was... I Heard You Talking at 10580 words.

What fic of yours surprised you?

i think all of them surprised me in some way. that's part of the joy of writing fics, isn't it? lollll but i think the one that surprised me the most was Thou, Sun, Art Half As Happy. it was a last minute change (i'll elaborate in the answer to the next question haha) and it was a VERY different direction than i had planned. it was all based off of a photo i saw on tumblr, and there was no prompt with the photo. i got to just take in the basic idea of the sticker being placed on a bridge overlooking the city and what might make that spot a good kissing spot.

now, as an ace who doesn't actually ENJOY kissing, i... didn't think about the fact that i would be writing a lot of it. lollll i actually have a super hard time writing kisses and trying to make them varied while also relaying the emotional intimacy of the moment, and then add on top of that the fact that once i started writing the fic, both harry and louis let me know pretty much as soon as words started getting written that they were both genderqueer and that worked differently for each of them, so harry would use they/them pronouns and louis would use he/him still, it just made things more interesting. and the way the fic developed??? like, i had a very vague idea of what would happen in the fic. so the way it actually came about all surprised me.

long answer short, from the very start, this fic surprised me and i was just along for the ride. it was a BLAST and i sure do love it, even if it does have the second lowest hits of all the fics i wrote this year haha

Were there any prompts you struggled to find an idea for?

STRUGGLED HAHAHA sorry. just funny since struggle was a prompt this year. ANYWAY. the prompt i had the hardest time with was defo rise. i've had this fic idea ever since greg james tweeted with shawn mendes months ago about how shawn basically forgot his interview with greg on the breakfast show, so greg had to last minute wing a LOT OF AIR TIME AND SHOW CONTENT and he did a great job, but it brought about some funny content... anyway. that made me wanna write a triad a/b/o fic where greg is louis and harry's beta. rise was going to be used in a lot of different ways through the fic, as well. because breakfast show requires greg to rise from bed early, he gets a rise out of harry and louis with his behavior and overt flirtations with shawn, they have to rise above their jealousy, etc etc etc. i was VERY EXCITED.

except i only had three days i was able to write every week this summer, and those were really really difficult to get. if i wanted to write on tuesday or thursday, i was often curling up with my laptop in a dark room with some caffeine and candles burning to soothe me after the insanity that is my life atm, and write for as long as i could before my brain stopped functioning, which was often only around 30 min. but see, that particularly week was the worst part of my son's 18 month sleep regression, which meant instead of him sleeping and letting me write, i was driving him around or trying to rock him back to sleep or letting him play in an attempt to tire him out etc etc etc and by friday morning i had to admit to myself there was no way i could write that a/b/o fic in my one guaranteed evening to write every week (saturday, btw). so i was suddenly left with around 36 hours to find a new fic idea and develop it enough to be able to write it in one evening.

as i said in the answer to the first question, i usually go to my prompts tag to see what might inspire me with this prompt word in mind, but for this one that wasn't the first place i went. i tried looking at more definitions even though i'd done that earlier and nothing was inspiring me. so i then spoke to several friends and was still having a hard time finding any ideas that felt like something i would enjoy writing and could do so quickly.

by saturday morning, knowing i had less than 12 hours to figure out what i was writing so i could actually WRITE IT in only like 2-3 hours of writing time, i finally sat down and scrolled through my prompts tag. once i did, i saw the photo for the "good kissing spot", and i immediately thought of sunrise. so i ran with it. but i wanted to make it stylinshaw, so how would i work that in, etc etc etc. it was just very fast and very difficult trying to figure out how i would structure it so it could be a fun meet cute kind of fic, but also work into them actually building a meaningful connection etc and... well. it was a lot. haha so yeah, it was just a hard time overall that week, but i'm super proud of it in the end.

Were there any prompts you had an idea for but ended up writing something different? If so, what made you choose to change what you wrote? Do you think you’ll ever write your original idea at a later date?

HA okay well i already answered most of this above, but for the last part of this question, yes i will absolutely write my original idea at a later date. the whole reason i decided not to do it wasn't because i couldn't turn it into a fic that could be written in that one writing session, but because i had hopes for what that fic would be, and i didn't want to shorten and condense it enough to do that. i didn't want to have to lessen the dreams i have for that fic in my head, so i decided i would just put it back on my to write list and save it for later. who knows when, but that fic will absolutely get written.

What do you think was the most difficult as well as the easiest part about the Wordplay Challenge?

most difficult was 100% finding the time to write. that was insanely hard for me all summer, but by the time wordplay was going, things at home had ramped up to being very overwhelming regarding the demands on me and my time, and what i had been doing to carve out some time for myself and writing wasn't working anymore, so i had to adjust even more with the understanding that i was working on a really strict timeline too. so yeah. just finding the time was absolutely the hardest part for me.

easiest part was the actual writing. these fics really flowed from me, outside of the pack fic, that one was actually pretty difficult to make sure i was getting the dynamics exactly the way i wanted to have them turn out, but even with that aspect, it still was like it flowed from me most of the time. these fics really just took over and i was along for the ride. it was a blast.

If you participate again next year, is there anything you’ll do differently? If so, what?

lmao well assuming people still want wordplay to happen again, i'll run it again and very likely will take part. so... with the difficulty i had in finding any time to do anything this summer, i was actually ridiculously stressed when it came to the writing part, but also the modding aspect of it. so i am not sure that i'll run it during the summer again next year. i might have it go during the early fall once school is back in session so i at least have only one child at home instead of three to battle lol so that's one thing i'll hopefully be doing differently.

as for the writing aspect, i don't think so actually. i've done 5 years of this, and i'm having fun with it. haha if i ever find a fic idea i think could work for it, i would consider doing a series for it next year, but it all depends on if there's something i'd like to write that could work for that kind of set up with this challenge.

if you made it this far, thank you for reading!!! xxx

[pillarmenarevoregods]

Ask: Macro/Micro Vore Pillar Men and Joseph Joestar

First off, I am so so SO sorry for how long this took. Both real life responsibilities and the double standards I hold myself to about creating “quality content” meant my answer to this prompt sat in a half-finished state for a long time. I figure I should just post what I have now and hope it’s sufficient. 

@delcaty007​ (JoJo’s Bizarre Adventure, Macro/Micro Vore, Multiple Pred Scenarios, M/M, Non-fatal, Unwilling, Fearplay, Mentions of Digestion)

I had several ideas for this, and kind of debated which ones were worth fleshing out (or at least what I’d have the time/motivation for). This might not be fully fleshed out stories, but I hope it’s cool still.

I’m writing this in a premise of post-Battle Tendency, through some means, the Pillar Men come back to seek revenge: Kars is brought back from space, Esidisi and Wamuu are revived, and Santana is out of the Speedwagon vaults. BUT they are 30 feet tall and have no idea why/how that happened. They also find many of their abilities missing, BUT also can be in the sun! Yay! And then they find out the hard way that they can’t digest anything. Joseph’s gonna be stuck in a couple different belly jails.

I decided to write these in the order that Joseph fought the Pillar Men in canon. These can technically be independent scenarios of each other, or you can imagine it as the pillar men taking turns sending Joseph down the hatch if you want. I hope you enjoy!

Santana

He sure remembers how annoying that little primitive named Joseph Joestar was to him, and he’s going to find out what happened to him

He quickly learns about the events that transpired with his fellow Pillar Men and knows Joseph is alive

He actually wanted to seek out that Major Von Stroheim asshole first, because of well… I wouldn’t blame him. However he finds out Stroheim died and well, a little disappointing, at least there’s still JoJo to seek out

Once he locates him, Santana literally plunges his hand into the roof of Joseph’s home and grabs him

Joseph attempts to hamon him, but is shocked that… it no longer affects the pillar man. And how did he even get this large?

Santana smirks, considering it dumb for JoJo to even try using hamon when he’s literally outside in the daylight, unharmed.

Deep booming chuckle, “You idiot primitive…” and he starts squeezing Joseph in his hand, thinking it’ll be satisfying to feel his bones snap.

THEN his stomach gurgles and he has a better idea

Without another word, he quickly pops Joseph in his mouth, tilts his head back and swallows him faster than Joseph can process what just happened.

Joseph goes down Santana’s throat in shock, thrashing, trying to climb his way back up, but the muscles of Santana’s esophagus are no match and pull him down to his doom.

Joseph lands on what seems to be trees, brush, and random animals (still alive). It seems like Santana tried swallowing a LOT of different things

Somewhat to his relief, Joseph notices that nothing has really digested.

Santana, on the other hand, can’t care less about what’s happening inside his stomach. He has that annoying JoJo right where he belonged. The weight in his stomach and the occasional minor sting of attempted hamon only tickled a bit. 

Joseph wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon, and Santana likewise said nothing when meeting back up with the other Pillar Men.

The first thought on their minds was to find Joseph too, and Santana had to press his tongue in his cheek at knowing that he simultaneously got to stick it to Kars by eating his “mortal enemy” before he could.  

Esidisi

He remembers how he died, and while on one hand respects Joseph for winning against him, isn’t going to pass up the opportunity to get his own revenge

Finds Joseph out on a solo boating trip (convenient, right?) and all Joseph can see is some massive force swimming in the water rushing towards him

Esidisi rises up like a colossal beast, picking Joseph’s boat out of the water

“JoooJooo, it’s been a while, huh? What, like 10 years?” Esidisi makes sure to smile wide and show off his sharp teeth, bringing the small boat in his hand closer to his face.

Joseph probably pisses himself (let’s be real), screaming “OH MY GOD” or “HOLY SHIT,” which is music to Esidisi’s ears, causing him to belt out laughing.

“Didn’t think you’d see me again, didya?!” Joseph doesn’t even have a response, he’s just thrashing and yelling at this point

“You remember our conversation about the Art of War, yeah? Well I hope you do. Sun Tzu told me one more bit of advice that has truly been the most beneficial to me...”

He lifts Joseph up above his face, “’Keep your friends close, your enemies even closer.’” before dropping Joseph in his open mouth.

Esidisi hums in appreciation as Joseph flails on his tongue before jerking his head back and giving a thorough swallow to send him down.

He places his hand over his stomach, relishing in the sensation of pounding helplessly at his stomach walls, and feeling confident that he can go back to Kars to report that JoJo has been “taken care of.”

After a long while of walking and swimming through the ocean, he notices Joseph was still active inside him. He would have started digesting by now, right?

Esidisi figures all that physical motion may be disrupting digestion, so he finds a coast to sit on and waits it out, occasionally making small remarks to the man inside him

Gets frustrated and cries eventually because why won’t he digest?? Esidisi at first accepted that there were caveats to being alive again and being able to see the Sun finally, but come on

He already couldn’t use his blood vessels, couldn’t absorb the only advantage he had was being giant and still being able to contort his body, and now he can’t even digest someone he’s eaten?

Joseph meanwhile is yelling and pounding on the stomach walls, trying to hamon his way out. Esidisi is very pleased to see that the hamon is ineffective inside him, in fact it just tickles a bit.

The little pounding and yelling and screams eventually become annoying, though. Esidisi has some important pondering he needs to do on what his new life is now, and the squirming noisy human in his stomach keeps distracting him.

He sits down somewhere to ponder whether the trade-offs are worth it, has to tell Joseph, “Shut up and let me think!”

Wamuu

When Wamuu “woke back up” and noticed his masters had, too, one of his first thoughts was strangely where Joseph Joestar was currently.

He wondered whether Kars had succeeded in killing him and taking ascended as the Ultimate Being.

However, when he saw Lord Kars, also made giant by whatever spell or curse has brought them all back to life and made them 30 feet tall, Wamuu could quickly assume by the tantrum he was throwing that Joseph had also defeated him in some way.

While Wamuu didn’t exactly WANT Joseph to defeat himself or Lord Kars, he still believed in a fair fight and that a winner should be able to keep their victory.

Hearing Kars and Esidisi plot together to find Joseph and enact revenge on him (hell, even Santana is making comments about finding “that annoying JoJo”), Wamuu realizes if he wants to ensure his opponent could keep his honor, he’ll have to find the Joestar before the other Pillar Men did.

While locating him, Wamuu picks up and swallows a bunch of humans (he’s a nervous eater, he needs to snack under pressure you know?)

After several hours of the humans still pounding and yelling inside of his stomach, he realizes something was off… they should have been digesting by now, yet they’re still alive and active

Wamuu thinks it’s only fair to spit them up and let them go. He’s a little embarrassed and tactfully apologizes to these humans, “I did not expect for you to still be alive. Please forgive me, if I had known you weren’t going to digest I wouldn’t have swallowed you in the first place.” Thanks good guy Wamuu, very reassuring.   

When he does find Joseph (on a camping trip in the middle of the woods, alone…), he kneels down in a clearing just as Joseph is about to approach that area.

Boy is he surprised to see a giant man kneeling in the normally empty field, especially a man he killed 10 years ago… but giant

“JoJo, we meet again.” Queue the “OH! MY! GODDD!” and trying to runaway classic Joseph Joestar style

Wamuu picks him up like an ant between his fingers and brings him closer to his face.

“I am doing this for your own good, JoJo.” and he opened his mouth wide, held a squirming yelling little Joseph over his mouth and dropped him in, tossed his head back and swallowed.

Unfortunately Wamuu forgot to tell Joseph that he wasn’t going to die,  only places his hand unconsciously over his stomach, kneading his thumb into the area Joseph is pounding at 

When meeting with his Masters (who were unsuccessful at finding Joseph… gee I wonder why) still has his hand over his belly, trying to sooth the commotion inside.

Kars even asks if Wamuu is ill, to which Wamuu responds with “I ate something that isn’t agreeing with me.” Well, he’s not wrong

He will have to let Joseph out… eventually. But right now he just wants to keep him safe and hidden. When that will be? No one knows - especially not Wamuu or Joseph....

Kars

Oh, this man is NOT happy. All that time in space, going slowly insane? Yeah, he has it in for Joseph Joestar.

Just shortly after he stops thinking, he finds himself rapidly pulled back to Earth and suddenly much larger than he remembers being before.

It takes him a bit to gain all his thoughts back, but of course he’s elated once he realizes his companions are back as well.

After rejoicing the return of Esidisi and Wamuu (maybe at least a little happy to see Santana again, as well), he went about pursuing his new important goal

Joseph Joestar needed to feel the fear and despair he himself felt while drifting through space. He decided he wouldn’t kill him… yet.

He needed to see Joseph suffer the same way he had, killing him too quickly would just end that fun.

Kars wanted to take Joseph down in the most humiliating way - it’s only fair after being defeated in front of his enemies in such a humiliating way.

Joseph happened to be at his work office, doing business as usual in his life free of being a hamon warrior

Therefore, it was absolutely unexpected when a giant hand plunges through the glass pane window, grabs Joseph off-guard and holds him tightly in front of the face of the man in his nightmares.

In fact, he seriously just thinks he’s dreaming. Joseph covers his eyes and yells, “I’m dreaming! This is a dream! I’m going to wake up now in three, two, one…..”

Kars waits a beat for dramatic effect before hissing “Zero.” He licks his lips, being able to sense the pure dread and terror of his prey. Oh, it’s making him absolutely giddy

“I want you to know what it feels like, JoJo… To have all your hopes and dreams unfairly stolen from you.” Kars raises him high above his head, and watches the little man squirm. He’s definitely finding this cathartic.

“I drifted through space, not knowing if I’d ever escape that torture. All of my accomplishments going to waste, because of you! I believe it’s only fair, JoJo, that I give you a taste of what I experienced.”

Without much effort, he casually tosses Joseph high up in the air (but not too hard, because he doesn’t want Joseph to actually go into space

As Joseph falls back down from the sky, Kars waits with his mouth wide open and snaps his jaw shut once the screaming man lands in his mouth.

He doesn’t wait long before swallowing, while focusing on ever little sensation of his enemy wriggle down his throat. Finally, he’s conquered the Sun AND Joseph Joestar.

Even after several hours and realizing his stomach wasn’t digesting his prey, Kars accepted that it was poetic justice in a way that Joseph would remain alive, trapped for an indefinite amount of time in his stomach, just like he had been trapped in space

[lifeofkaze]

An Art of Balance #26

Orion Amari x MC

Word Count: ~ 3.100

_________________________________________

Chapter 26: The Right Path

After dropping Lizzie off at the Transfiguration classroom, Orion had found Murphy in their Common Room. In a stark contrast to the days leading up to their match, the circular room was pleasantly silent. The older students were nursing their hangovers while most of the younger ones were outside soaking in the sunshine.

Orion and Murphy had retreated to one of the reading nooks recessed in the masonry. A scroll of parchment lay in front of each of them and both had their brows furrowed in concentration as they tried to transfigure them into quills without using the proper incantation out loud.

Nonverbal spells usually weren’t a problem for Orion, the main thing required being a strong focus. But today the transfiguration didn’t work, no matter how often he repeated the words in his mind.

It was no use, he knew his head was elsewhere; all the events of last night swirled around his centre in a vortex that was tugging at his concentration. Neither could he blank out the exhilaration that had coursed through him as he and Lizzie finally had kissed, nor could he ignore the sorrow he had felt as he had tried to soothe her through her bitter tears. Seeing her fall apart in front of him had cut through his heart, but he couldn’t deny the sting of disappointment as he thought about Rowan’s accusations as well.

He knew he shouldn’t have kissed her again and he hadn’t meant to, but his mind seemed to lose control of his body whenever she was near. With the way she had been looking up at him, equal parts hopeful and scared, his wish to hold her close had become overwhelming. It had been hard letting go of her, but he stood by what he had told her; if she didn’t solve the conflict between her and Rowan and put her mind to ease, any connection between them would be overshadowed by the loss of their friendship.

McNully let out a small cry of triumph as his parchment finally changed its shape. It still looked a little bit too yellow and too brittle to pass for a proper quill, but contrary to Orion, he had at least managed to pull the transfiguration off.

His friend laid his wand aside and inspected his feather. “Do you want to tell me what’s bothering you?” he asked nonchalantly.

“What lets you think I’m bothered?”

Murphy glanced at his non transfigured scroll. “You’re usually much better at nonverbal spells than I am.”

Orion raised an eyebrow. “Don’t you have any numbers backing your observation?”

“Don’t offend me, of course I have,” Murphy shook his head indignantly. “I just don’t think it’s the time for statistics now.” Ignoring Orion’s sceptical look, he put his wand away. “It’s about Lizzie, isn’t it?”

It had taken McNully a good amount of prying and guessing to get last night’s story out of his friend. Given Murphy’s chattiness, Orion had initially wanted to keep it to himself, but Murphy just knew him too well. It was only after filling him in that Orion had noticed how relieved he was to have someone to share his thoughts with; talking about it with Murphy made it feel more real and less like a dream, both the good and the bad.

McNully took Orion’s silence as a sign to go on. “Don’t worry about her,” he smiled encouragingly, “she and Rowan will be fine.”

“I hope so,” Orion sighed, “Lizzie has fallen off balance; I have never seen her so disconcerted before. I’m worried about her.”

Murphy’s eyes dropped to the table as he spun the feather between his fingers. “The rumours going around at the moment won’t help either.”

When Orion didn’t respond, he looked up sharply to find a hint of confusion on his friend’s face. “Don’t tell me you haven’t heard?” he asked in an astounded voice. “It’s the talk of the school; I have heard five different versions of the story so far.”

“What story, McNully?” Orion asked, but even though his voice was patient, he could feel his shoulders tense.

Very uncharacteristic for him, Murphy seemed to struggle to find the words he was looking for. Not finding a proper way to nicely phrase what he was about to say, he answered only hesitantly. “The common theme seems to be Lizzie screwing with Charlie Weasley and… well you, I suppose, at the same time,” he finished meekly.

Seeing Orion’s expression darken considerably, he quickly added, “Which is nonsense of course; we both know Lizzie would never do something like that.”

As much as Orion wanted to believe him, he found a tiny flicker of doubt tugging at his faith in Lizzie; he had known her for so long and had always believed her to be a person that wore her heart on her sleeve; instead, she had tangled herself in a web of lies that were falling back on her now. He had been honest when he had told her that he didn’t hold it against her; but he couldn’t help the thought that maybe he didn’t know her as well has he had thought.

As if on cue, the sneering voice of Everett cut through the silent atmosphere of the room; he and a few of his friends had just entered the Common Room. He held his head even higher than usual and a smug grin was plastered onto his face. He was talking loudly to his companions as he made a point of walking past Murphy and Orion.

“From what I’ve heard, Jameson’s had a fling with Weasley for over a year now; apparently they hooked up at his home over the Christmas break.” He let out a menacing laugh. “But I’m not surprised, to be honest, I always thought she was a rather loose one.”

“Watch your mouth, Everett,” Murphy cut him off angrily. “These rumours are absolutely baseless; the chances of them being true are so low, they’re not even worth calculating.”

Everett turned towards them, his eyes looking down at Murphy condescendingly. “Is that so?” His smile grew even wider, the complacency positively dripping from his words. “Well big news, McNully, I heard it from her best friend myself.”

Before he had a chance to stop himself, Orion’s head went up at his words and his jaw locked. The motion was only minuscule, but Everett had noticed it all the same.

“Her little prefect friend was bitching to Penny Haywood this morning on their way to breakfast. She seemed pretty sure they have something going and Jameson’s been lying straight to their faces the whole time, kept the whole thing her dirty little secret. Just shows what kind of person she really is.”

His attention turned to Orion; he was sizing him up gloatingly. “If you ask me, kind of pathetic someone like our Captain fell for her.”

Murphy was bristling up but Orion silenced him by putting a hand on his shoulder. The calm expression he held Everett’s gaze with was a stark contrast to the anger boiling under his skin. His whole philosophy was against fighting another person, let alone a member of his own team, but much to his surprise, he felt the tips of his fingers twitching with suppressed rage and the sudden desire to wipe the smug grin off Everett’s face.

Everett’s confident smile started to waver as Orion’s gaze bored into his; he may have looked composed but there was a cold fire burning in his eyes that made Everett flinch subconsciously.

“I understand the frustration of being rejected where others are not may run deep,” he answered coolly, “but be careful; spreading rumours is playing with fire.” His eyes grew harder and he raised his chin. “Take care not to burn yourself.”

Everett held his gaze for a moment longer before he dropped his eyes with a derisive snort. He motioned his friends to follow him and stalked over to the other side of the Common Room, as far away from Murphy and Orion as possible.

Murphy watched with a scowl as the group shooed a few first-years off a sofa. “Do you think what he said is true?” he asked silently without looking at Orion.

“No,” Orion answered brusquely, sounding much more determined than he felt, however. “I don’t think we could have been so wrong about her after all these years of knowing her. And even if there was some truth to it, it would be unfair to judge without having heard both sides of the story.”

Murphy opened his mouth to say something but Orion shook his head. “I don’t want to discuss this any further right now. Whatever may have happened between Lizzie and Charlie in the past is in the past; what matters is the present and at present, I’m feeling unsettled.”

He got up and cracked his head from side to side; the muscles in his neck had tensed considerably since this morning. “If you need me, you know where to find me.”

*

Orion didn’t know for how long he had been balancing; he had lost track of time in the process of turning his focus on his inside. He opened his eyes for a moment; judging by the light of the sun, it was probably way past lunchtime, but he didn’t care too much about a missed meal right now.

All of his concentration was needed to stay upright on his broomstick, that was hovering a good deal above the Quidditch stands. He was thankful for the peace his meditation exercise was giving him. All his thoughts were focused on his steady breathing and his muscles balancing his body in the air, leaving no room for distraction.

He was facing the pitch, his back turned to the rows of wooden seats beneath him, so when he heard a familiar voice calling his name, he couldn’t help but jump a little from being broken out of his concentration so suddenly.

It took him a moment to secure his footing again before he abandoned his standing position and sat down on the handle of his broom. Looking down, he could see Lizzie sitting on the middle row of the stands, her feet resting on the seat in front of her. He had no idea how long she had been there already and he felt his lips curve into a smile as he flew down to meet her.

She stood up as he landed and looked up at him; Orion had never really noticed how big the height difference between them was. As the beating of his heart sped up, he took a deep breath to not lose the calm state of mind he had acquired over the last few hours so quickly. But he couldn’t help it, Lizzie’s presence alone was enough to brighten his mood considerably, all thoughts about focus and balance forgotten.

“It seems like you almost knocked me off balance, Chaser,” he greeted her with an affectionate smile.

Lizzie, however, didn’t smile back at him. She didn’t answer him either; she was simply watching him, her expression stern, the look in her eyes unusually sad. She crossed her arms in front of her chest and held her elbows as if she was hugging herself.

Orion felt the smile fade from his face and his brow furrowed in concern. “What’s wrong?”

She evaded his eyes and turned her head, looking out over the sunbathed pitch. If possible, she looked even paler than this morning.

“I followed your advice, Captain,” she finally said quietly with a bleak voice. “I talked to Rowan.”

“What did she say? Were you able to settle your differences?”

Lizzie hugged herself tighter. “Yes.”

She turned her head from the pitch to face him again, a humourless smile tugging at her lips that didn’t reach her eyes; if anything, it made her look sadder than before.

“She gave me a choice.”

Now it was Orion’s turn to remain silent. He fought the urge reach out to comfort Lizzie when she couldn’t hold his gaze any longer, eyes dropping to the ground again as she struggled to continue. The warmth he had felt moments before was starting to subside, leaving him cold and tense in anticipation of her next words.

“Rowan is willing to forgive me and give our friendship another chance; under one condition,” Lizzie raised her eyes to meet his again and there was no need for her to continue; Orion knew what she was about to say.

“I have to choose between her and you.”

The silence following her words was deafening. Both of them were standing on the wooden stands of the Quidditch pitch, facing each other without a word as the hot rays of the sun burned down on them.

After what felt like an eternity, Orion loosened his grip on the handle of his broomstick, that he had subconsciously gripped tighter, and inclined his head.

“I think I know where your choice fell,” he finally managed to answer.

He could see Lizzie was fighting back her tears as she quickly looked away and pressed her lips together, her chest rapidly rising and falling from trying not to cry. The wish to hold her was so strong it almost physically hurt him, but Orion didn’t move; he couldn’t.

“I’m so sorry,” she whispered, her voice close to breaking. She extended her hand as if to touch him, but stopped halfway, her hand dropping down to the wooden railing.

“Don’t be sorry,” Orion heard himself say; despite of what it meant for him, for them, he couldn’t stand seeing her so devastated. “Rowan is your oldest friend and your bond is worth preserving.”

He laid a hand on her shoulder, careful not to scare her as he felt her muscles tense beneath his touch. The desire to embrace her grew close to overwhelming but instead he focused on his words.

“While I understand that she is hurt, it is not fair to demand such a decision from you. Do you want me to talk to her?” he added after a moment, knowing full well that she wouldn’t hide behind his back from the effects of her own doings.

And sure enough, Lizzie quickly shook her head. “I don’t need you to fight my battles,” she answered with a trembling voice, but he could hear the hard resolve behind it. “I caused this mess and I have to face the consequences.”

“But this doesn’t only concern you,” Orion responded quietly. He saw Lizzie’s determination waver in the way her brow slightly creased and her lips parted to say something, but instead, she averted her eyes.

“Don’t make me question my decision,” her voice had a desperate tinge to it as she added a quiet, “please.”

“Then I will understand and respect your choice.” He ran his thumb over her shoulder, hoping to give her at least some sort of reassurance.

“No matter how much your decision pains you, if you follow the path your heart is showing you, you are sure to go into the right direction.” He offered her another smile but he knew the sadness that was darkening her eyes was mirrored on his own face.

Lizzie opened her mouth to say something again but stopped herself at the last second.

“Thank you for understanding,” she whispered instead.

She reached up and covered his hand with hers. She tilted her head so she could press her cheek against it for one last moment before gently brushing it off. Without looking at him again, she turned around and vanished into the shadows of the staircase.

Orion stared after her for a moment, still feeling the touch of her cheek against his hand before he sat down on the wooden seats, restlessly raking his fingers through his hair. He let himself fall onto his back, watching the clouds above roll by.

When he was balancing, his goal was to clear his thoughts and empty his mind. Right now, he had no thoughts as well, but the silence inside his head wasn’t peaceful, it was crushing; he felt anything but balanced.

*

Lizzie barely made it into the cool darkness of the tower before the tears started welling up in her eyes. She bit them back a few moments longer until she was absolutely sure Orion wasn’t following her. She didn’t expect him to; he had always respected the boundaries she’d set. But she knew full well, if he made the unlikely decision go after her, her resolve would crumble into nothingness.

When she had reached the last landing of the stairs, she sank down onto the topmost step and hugged her knees, burying her face in her arms as the tears finally started falling. She tried not to sob, so no one would hear her and the effort took her breath away, shaking her whole frame violently as she dug her nails into her thighs. The physical pain gave her something to cling to as she struggled to regain her composure.

She repeated the words she had told herself ever since she had made her decision in her mind over and over again, like a steady mantra in the chaos of her thoughts. She had done the right thing, made the right choice; she had been a bad friend for far too long.

She had known Orion would understand and accept her decision, but she wished he hadn’t. She wished he had challenged her, called her out for running, told her they would find a way and give her the excuse she so desperately needed to allow her to be with him regardless.

But instead, he had followed her wish and let her go; the way he had looked at her as she had brushed his hand off her shoulder had been so sad and yet so caring at the same time, it made Lizzie’s stomach twist with regret, the guilt she felt increasing beyond measure.

His words were still ringing in her ear and made a bitter smile appear on her face. ‘If you follow the path your heart is showing you, you are sure to go into the right direction.’

But if she was on the right path, then why did it hurt so much?