#then small insignificant things happen and it makes things feel worse because like it just feels bad it all feels bad

[whimsyprinx]

I think the worst part of it all so that I didn’t decide to like feel unlovable, i didn’t like get a say I’m feeling this way and no matter how hard I try it what other people say the feeling of being unloved persists

[merthosus]

Birthday Cake

Summary: After your fingers slip and you drop Grace Cake, your boyfriend yells at you and takes his anger out on you. After you had scraped up the cake, you were on your way out to your car. But someone was already waiting for you with a new cake in their hand.

This Story is inspired by this Tic Tok: https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGeTPh561/

“You don’t need to apologize for his behavior”

Tentatively, you looked around for your boyfriend to see if he had seen it. But before you could even turn your head in his direction, you felt his hand on your cheek. You recoiled and sat on the floor in front of him. No one had noticed, everyone was watching Grace trying to smash the piñata. You now felt like the piñata too, only less colorful. However, you were very glad that the attention of the others wasn't on you at the moment.

“How can you be so useless?” he asked you as he took a few steps towards you. The loud children's music drowned out his shouting in the crowd. With every step he took towards you, you slipped back a little, until at some point you felt the wall behind you. That he reacted like this was nothing new to you. You knew he had an anger problem, but you always tried to look on the bright side. He just didn't want you to fail. Several nights went by as he knelt at your feet and cried. He said he'd never do it again and you couldn't help but look into his tear-filled eyes and believe him.

“Get another one! Everyone will hate you. How can you be so stupid and clumsy?” he yells at you. Before you even realized it, tears were streaming down your cheek. "The whole evening is ruined because of you!", he yells. Your heart was arching, like someone took it out, squeezed it and rammed it in again.

The sting of his words cut deeper than you could have ever imagined. You had felt small before, but now you felt insignificant, like a shadow of yourself, barely holding onto the edges of who you used to be. The tears kept coming, unbidden, each one a silent cry for help that you knew would go unanswered. You had seen this side of him before, the anger, the cruelty, but each time it reared its head, it still managed to catch you off guard, leaving you defenseless and hollowed out.

You wanted to say something, anything, to defend yourself, to make him see that it was just an accident, that you hadn’t meant to mess things up. But the words were trapped in your throat, choked off by the fear and the heartbreak. The only thing that came out was a small "I am sorry". “Get up!”, he hissed, his voice low and venomous. “Get up and go get another one. Fix this!”. Your legs felt like they were made of lead, too heavy to move, but you forced yourself to stand, your body shaking as you did. You wanted to disappear, to melt into the wall and never have to face him again, but you knew that wasn’t an option. Not now, not ever. You had learned long ago that running from his anger only made it worse.

As you stumbled toward your car, your keys jingling in your trembling hand, you felt the weight of everything crashing down on you. The second your hand touched the handle, you collapsed, all the fear, frustration, and oppression pouring out of you. You were no stranger to this feeling, after bottling it all up, it always found a way to break free. But this had never happened in public before. Usually, it was in the privacy of your bed, next to him, the very source of your pain.

Your sobs were quiet but intense, shaking your entire body. "Everything alright?" A soft voice suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts, startling you. You looked up, wiping at your tear-streaked face in a futile attempt to hide the evidence of your breakdown.

“Five?” Your voice was barely more than a whisper, cracked and raw. “I… I’m fine. I just...” You tried to smile, but it wavered, crumbling under the weight of everything you were trying to hold back. Your fingers are still clutching the keys in your hand to stop them from rattling constantly, but your mounting trembling made that an unfinishable task. “I saw it,” he says without batting an eyelid.

Five’s eyes were steady and serious as he looked at you, not buying your attempt to downplay what had happened. His voice was soft but firm, cutting through the pretense you had tried to maintain. “I saw it,” he repeated without batting an eyelid, his gaze piercing through the façade you’d constructed. You looked away, feeling a rush of shame and helplessness. The truth was too raw, too vulnerable to confront head on. “I’m sorry,” you murmured, the words feeling inadequate and hollow. “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen.”

Five stepped closer, his presence a steadying force amidst your chaos. He walks closer to you, his expression a mix of concern and resolve. “You don’t need to apologize for his behavior,” he said, his voice gentle but unwavering. “You’re not at fault here. You deserve to be treated with respect, not anger and blame.” You could hardly process his words through the fog of your distress, but something about his unflinching support made you feel seen in a way you hadn’t been in a long time. For the first time, someone was standing up for you, not just against your boyfriend, but for your own sense of self-worth.

As Five reached out, his hand brushed away the tears on your cheek with a tenderness that contrasted sharply with the cruelty you’d just experienced. His touch was gentle, almost reverent, and it brought a fresh wave of tears to your eyes, not just from sadness, but from a kind of relief you hadn’t allowed yourself to feel. Your breath hitched as you looked up at him, your eyes meeting his with a mixture of hope and fear. The vulnerability you felt was overwhelming, but Five’s gaze was soft, reassuring, and unwavering. “You’re not alone,” he said softly. “I’m here. And I care.”

Five’s words wrapped around you like a warm blanket in the midst of a storm. The compassion in his eyes, so genuine and unwavering, offered a refuge from the harshness you had just endured. The tears you had been holding back continued to fall, but now they were mingled with the relief of someone truly understanding your pain.

He gently cupped your face in his hands, his touch surprisingly soothing. You leaned into his palms, finding comfort in his proximity. His thumb brushed away the remnants of your tears, and his gaze never wavered from yours. The intensity of his eyes made it clear that he wasn’t just offering sympathy, he was offering support, something you desperately needed.

“Thank you,” you whispered, your voice quivering. The gratitude in your heart was immense, but words seemed inadequate. Five simply nodded, his expression softening even more. Without another word, he leaned in, his lips meeting yours in a kiss that was both tender and reassuring. The kiss was gentle at first, a sweet promise of understanding and care. But as you both sank into the moment, the kiss deepened, fueled by the raw emotions that had been building up inside you. His lips moved against yours with a gentle urgency, as if trying to convey all the feelings that words couldn’t express. The world outside seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you and the warmth of his embrace.

You responded with equal fervor, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, pulling him closer. The kiss became more fervent, an exploration of comfort and connection that transcended the pain you had just experienced. It was a moment of shared solace, a physical manifestation of the support he had offered with his words. Eventually, the kiss softened, but neither of you wanted to let go. Five’s arms wrapped around you, holding you securely as you rested your forehead against his.

But both of you, so tangled in the moment, didn't see the two eyes, sharply watching you two.

Thanks for reading love :)

[itsgreti]

UNSPOKEN FEELINGS

pairing. james beaufort x f!reader

summary. james realizes he has deeper feelings for lydia's best friend.

warning. slight cursing, mentions of cheating

word count. 1.4k

a/n: i just watched maxton hall and felt the urge to write a quick fic. english is my second language, so if you find any mistakes, don't hesitate and text me! (divider is made by rookthornesartistry)

The prestigious campus of Maxton Hall Boarding School was a world itself, where the rich teenage life unfolded in all its complexity. Among its many students were James Beaufort, the charming and popular heartthrob, and his twin sister Lydia, known for her big mouth, but besides that, intelligence. (Y/N) was Lydia's best friend since they were toddlers, and because of that she often finds herself in the company of the Beauforts. Despite this, (Y/N) felt like a shadow, always in the background and unnoticed by James. His attractive presence draws attention, as he walks around the hallway, towering over others, always surrounded by admirers. Like everyone in the school, (Y/N) also had a crush on him, but she knew she would always be only his little sister’s friend. And she had long accepted that.

The (Y/L/N) family is famous internationally, because of their luxurious, high-quality dresses. They often collaborate with the market-leading fashion brand, Young Beaufort. But (Y/N) usually wished for just a simple way of life, without fame. All the children, who inherit their family’s legacy, are burdened by the weight of expectations and pressure.

To make things worse, it was a chilly afternoon when (Y/N)'s world shattered. She had been dating a boy from another school, a relationship that seemed promising but ended in betrayal and heartbreak. The boy had just played with her, and thrown away her without a second thought. (Y/N) was devastated and hurt.

Lydia was away on a school trip, leaving (Y/N) with her emotions alone. She wandered the campus aimlessly, eventually finding an isolated bench near the gardens, where she let the tears flow freely.

Unaware of (Y/N), James had noticed her distressed state from afar. He had been passing by when he saw her sitting alone, shoulders shaking with silent sobs. Concerned, he approached quietly, unsure of how to begin.

"(Y/N)," he said softly, startling them. "Are you okay?"

(Y/N) quickly wiped her tears, attempting to make herself presentable. "Oh, James. I'm fine. Just... having a rough day."

James sat down beside her, his expression gentle but insistent. "You don't look fine. What happened?"

The unexpected kindness in his voice broke through (Y/N)'s defences. She looked at him, eyes filled with pain, and sighed. "It's just... this guy I was dating. He turned out to be a jerk. He used me and then just... dumped me."

James's jaw tightened, a flash of anger in his eyes. "Who is he?"

"It doesn’t matter. He’s not from Maxton Hall." (Y/N) shrugged her shoulders.

When James heard the pain in her voice, he decided to deal with her now, and it will be enough later to get to know about that asshole. "I'm sorry, (Y/N). You didn't deserve that."

(Y/N) shook her head, feeling small and insignificant. "I should have seen it coming. I'm not exactly someone would notice."

James frowned, shifting closer. "That's not true. People notice you, (Y/N). I notice you."

(Y/N) looked at him in surprise. "You... notice me?" she said with irony.

James was confused, but nodded, his gaze sincere. "Of course I do." (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat hearing those words. "You're important to Lydia, which makes you important to me. And beyond that, you're a great person. Anyone would be lucky to have you in their life."

The warmth in his words and the intensity of his gaze made (Y/N) feel a flicker of hope. She had always seen James as someone out of reach, but here he was, sitting beside her, offering comfort and understanding.

"Thank you, James," she whispered, feeling the weight of her sadness begins to lift. "It means a lot."

James smiled softly, his hand reaching out to gently squeeze hers. "I do care about you, (Y/N). And if that guy couldn't see how amazing you are, then he's the one who's missing out."

For a moment, they sat in comfortable silence, the cold air around them a sharp contrast to the warmth blossoming in (Y/N)'s heart. James's presence was a balm to their wounded soul, a reminder that she was not alone.

"Do you want to talk more about it?" James asked, his voice gentle. "Or maybe we can just sit here for a while. Whatever you need."

(Y/N) smiled, feeling a sense of gratitude and a newfound connection. "Sitting here is nice. Thank you, James," she said feeling his arms pull her into a hug.

As they sat together, (Y/N) realized that maybe, just maybe, she had been wrong about James’s emotions towards her. Perhaps he had been seeing her all along, and in this moment of weakness, she had realised that her feelings for her had not changed over the years.

The weeks following that emotional afternoon saw a gradual but significant shift in the dynamics between James and (Y/N). Where once their interactions were only about polite nods and casual greetings, now there were shared moments, conversations, and a growing sense of friendship.

James found himself looking forward to seeing (Y/N) more than he ever anticipated. Her presence was comforting, her laughter infectious, and her perspectives refreshing. He was drawn to (Y/N) in a way that was new and unexpected, and it unsettled him in the best possible way. He finally had to admit that he had lied to himself all the years when he said he didn’t care about (Y/N).

(Y/N) felt the change too. She was still close to Lydia, but now James seemed to seek her out independently. He'd join them for lunch, walk with them between classes, and even invite them to hang out with his friends, to where (Y/N) always refused to go and eventually Lydia accepted it. It was confusing but exhilarating.

One evening, while Lydia was busy with her extracurricular activities, James invited (Y/N) to study with him at a cosy coffee shop off-campus. They settled into a quiet corner, books and notebooks spread out before them.

"You know," James said, looking up from his notes, "I never realized how much fun studying could be until I started doing it with you."

(Y/N) laughed softly, their cheeks flushing. "I have never thought that once in my lifetime I will hear that from the mouth of James Beaufort, but I think you just enjoy the coffee and the company."

James smiled, but there was a depth to his gaze that made (Y/N) look away shyly. "You're right about that. But it's more than that. You're different, (Y/N). In a good way. You make everything better."

(Y/N) felt her heart skip a beat. The sincerity in his voice was undeniable. "Thanks. Spending time with you isn't that bad either."

As the weeks went on, James's feelings for (Y/N) deepened. He found himself thinking about her at odd times, daydreaming about their future conversations, and feeling jealous when he saw her with others. It was during one of these moments when he saw (Y/N) laughing with Cyril, that he realized the truth: he had fallen for (Y/N).

The next day, James asked (Y/N) to meet him in the gardens where they had first bonded. The air was cool, the sky painted with the hues of sunset.

"(Y/N)," James began, taking a deep breath. "There's something I need to tell you."

(Y/N) looked at him, concern flickering in their eyes. "What is it?"

"I've been thinking a lot, and I realized something important," he continued, his voice steady but his heart racing. "That day when you sat with me here, something changed for me. Spending time with you, getting to know you better... I've come to realize that I have feelings for you. Romantic feelings."

(Y/N) stared at him, her breath catching in their throat. "James, I... I-"

James stepped closer, his eyes locked on her. "You don't have to say anything right now. I just needed you to know how I feel. Whatever you decide, our friendship means a lot to me, and I don't want to lose that."

Tears welled up in (Y/N)'s eyes, but they were tears of happiness and relief. "James, I feel the same way. I've liked you for a long time, but I never thought you'd feel the same."

James's face broke into a radiant smile, and he reached out to gently hold (Y/N)'s face in his hands. With that, James leaned in, closing the distance between them. Their lips met in a soft, tender kiss, a perfect blend of nervous excitement and genuine affection.

As they pulled away, both of them breathless and smiling, James whispered, "I've wanted to do that for so long."

(Y/N) smiled back, her eyes shining with happiness. "Me too."

[kiwriteswords]

hi! i love your hotch x shy!reader fics! and i was wondering if you could make an angsty fic about the reader n hotch like shy! reader made a mistake during a case and hotch is very protective over her? (like they get into an argument) and please a happy ending! thank you!

Hi!! Thank you!!! Thanks so much for requesting a short drabble! I hope this was what you were looking for!

Drabble Prompts | Other Writing | Ao3

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Shy!Fem!Reader!

Word Count: 800

Rating: Everyone

TW: Canon-typical themes

The Weight of Mistakes

The air in the conference room felt stifling as the BAU team gathered around the table. They were mid-case, and things were tense, to say the least. The unsub was proving difficult to track, and time was slipping away. You had made a critical mistake — one that had cost the team precious hours. It had been a small oversight, but in a case like this, small mistakes were magnified tenfold.

You kept your eyes on the file in front of you, heart pounding, barely able to focus as Hotch gave his final instructions before sending the team out again. Your nerves were frayed, and you could feel the weight of his disappointment looming over you. Hotch was protective, fiercely so, but he was also firm when it came to the job.

As the meeting ended, you hurried out, hoping to avoid any confrontation. But you barely made it to the hallway before you heard his voice.

"Y/N, my office. Now."

You swallowed hard, nodding and following him. The walk to his office felt like an eternity, your stomach churning with anxiety. Once inside, Hotch closed the door softly, which somehow made it worse.

He stood by his desk, arms crossed, his expression unreadable. "What happened today?"

Your voice was small, barely a whisper. "I—I didn't double-check the data, and I misread the location."

"That mistake nearly cost us a witness," Hotch said, his voice tight. "You know how important it is to be thorough."

The weight of his words felt like a punch to the gut. You nodded, tears threatening to well up in your eyes. You hated how small and insignificant you felt in moments like this. "I'm sorry," you murmured, barely able to meet his gaze. "I—I didn't mean to—"

"Y/N," Hotch interrupted, his tone softer now, but still firm. "You can't be this careless. Not in the field, not when lives are at stake."

You flinched, his words cutting deeper than you’d expected. You knew he was right, but that didn’t make it hurt any less. Your insecurities swelled, and before you could stop yourself, the words tumbled out.

"I’m sorry I’m not like the rest of you," you said, voice trembling. "I’m not as confident, or experienced, or… or perfect."

Hotch’s eyes softened, and he took a step toward you, his voice low. "Nobody's asking you to be perfect."

"But I keep messing up," you said, finally meeting his gaze. "And you... you’re always watching me, waiting for me to fail, and I hate it."

His brows furrowed, and for a moment, there was only silence between you. Then, unexpectedly, he stepped closer, closing the distance. "I’m not waiting for you to fail. I’m watching because I care. Because I know how much you push yourself."

You blinked, confused. "What do you mean?"

Hotch sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You’re harder on yourself than anyone else could ever be. And I see that. But today… today scared me. You could have been hurt."

It clicked then. The protectiveness in his tone, the frustration, the way he hovered when you were in the field — it wasn’t about your abilities. It was about him caring. A lot.

Your breath hitched. "I—I just don’t want to disappoint you."

Hotch's expression softened even more as he reached out, gently cupping your chin, lifting your gaze to his. "Y/N, you don’t disappoint me. Not ever. But you have to trust yourself. You’re part of this team for a reason."

You felt the tears welling up again, but this time, they weren’t from shame or guilt. They were from relief, from the overwhelming sense that maybe, just maybe, you weren’t as inadequate as you thought.

Hotch’s thumb brushed your cheek, his touch surprisingly tender. "You made a mistake. We all do. But it’s how you move forward that matters."

You nodded, the tension slowly unraveling from your chest. "I’ll do better," you whispered.

"I know you will," he said, his voice low, almost soothing. Then, after a beat, he added, "But I’m still going to watch over you. I can’t help it."

A small smile tugged at your lips, and for the first time that day, you felt lighter. "I think I can live with that."

Hotch’s lips quirked up in a rare smile of his own, and before you knew it, he pulled you into a hug. It was brief but comforting, grounding you in a way you hadn’t expected.

As you pulled away, he looked down at you, his expression soft but serious. "Just… don’t ever think you have to be perfect. You’re enough, Y/N. Always have been."

Your heart swelled at his words, and for the first time in a long while, you believed them. With Hotch at your side, you knew you’d be okay — mistakes and all.

Tag List: @zaddyhotch @estragos

[mollyrolls]

all shades of blue; hinata shoyo

track 10 / now playing / track 12 : ̗̀➛ weatherman collection

Broken bottles shine / just like stars, make a wish anyway. / Just your smile lit a sixty-watt bulb in my house / that was darkened for days. / Been thinking you probably should stay.

tags: gn!reader x timeskip!hinata, established relationship, hurt/comfort, angst, fluff, mentions of blood and alcohol, happy ending.

wc: 2k

an: this one is dedicated to the lovely @nectardaddy, because wine-drinker hinata is so canon that it literally changed the original idea i had for this song. I'm proud of this one :)

Superstitions are a funny thing. You don’t necessarily believe in them, but you pick up the penny anyway, avoid cracks in the sidewalk, throw the salt over your shoulder. They feel too simple to avoid.

Superstitions make it easier to explain away the shitty things that happen to you, rather than letting you spiral into despair about what you’ve done and why you deserve it. 

Superstitions also have a lot to say about the broken glass you find lying around your feet, your glass of wine long gone.

Some people would say that it's a sign of demise and betrayal. Others claim that wreck and ruin are just around the corner. Most people would agree that it’s a sign of heartbreak.

Regardless of what they have to say, you have a mess on your hands that you are too paralyzed to fix. Your mind is screaming to move, get towels, do something, but all you can do is sit and stare.

Maybe on a better day, you could ignore it. Chalk it up to a shaky hand or a loud noise from the movie playing in the other room. Wipe away the spill, brush the glass into the trash, and forget that it happened.

But today there’s something about this mess, ruby liquid spilling and staining the floor, bleeding out like a wound, that makes your heart ache and renders you useless to the world. A sense of foreboding sends a chill down your spine.

You barely notice your boyfriend crouching next to you, examining the damage and trying to fix things. He’s not looking at the mess on the floor but rather at your body, turning your hands over in fear of cuts or scrapes.

And you're not quite sure what it is, maybe shock, maybe a cut, maybe the sudden feeling that everything is too much for you to handle right now, but the pressure building behind your eyes is bursting before you feel it start.

One measly tear drops, landing cleanly on the back of his hand. That single tear seems to worry him more than the glass ever did, and the emotions flooding his eyes are overwhelming: worry, fear, relief, panic.

“Are you okay?”

Hinata is a lover. He might as well be the personification of it. His love is unconditional, abundant, no one is too insignificant to get a piece. It’s one of your favorite things about him, but it's also the thing that causes most of your despair.

Because you are not like that. Yes, you love him, but nowhere near as easily or openly. Your love is not explosive and all-encompassing, but quiet and steady, falling into the background. Sometimes you wonder why he sticks around at all, when he could easily find someone that can give him the love that he deserves.

You’ve never voiced your concerns to him, somewhat worried that he’ll realize you’re right and leave you in the dust. But more realistically, you know he’ll deny it. And that hurts worse.

You don’t think he’d understand how you feel, to no fault of his own. Going above and beyond in everything he does is in his blood. 

You forget he’s like that because he also knows how it feels to not be enough.

So when your thoughts get to be too much, you box them all up and push them under your bed. Waiting for a night alone where you can cry and mourn and worry. He’ll come home and soothe you like he always does, but you vowed a long time ago to never let him know the worst of it. 

“Are you okay?”

You hum distantly, letting Hinata continue his examination. When he finds a small cut on your finger, he’s immediately up and getting you aid. All you can do is stay in your position on the floor, pathetic, like a dog waiting for their owner to return.

He’s gentle when he cleans the wounds. Apologizes when the saline stings, like he’s responsible for the pain. Kisses your finger after wrapping the bandaid.

Once he’s done, he settles back on his heels, kneeling before you. He cups your hand in his, a warm and sturdy presence you drink up. 

It’s quiet, movie in the other room muffled. Quiet moments with Hinata can often be overwhelming, but that might be due to the circumstances you find them in. Him waiting for something you can’t provide, an impossible persistence that’s somehow never overbearing. 

And it’s hard. It’s just another way that you’re not enough for him. He deserves someone who can open up, share what they’re feeling. Someone who can care for him the way he cares for you.

“Hey- hey, what happened?”

You didn’t feel them start, so the tears rolling down your face are unwelcome. Blinking them away just produces more and you can’t make them stop. 

“Are you upset about the glass? We can get a new one.”

You chuckle horsely. “No, that’s fine.” Prying a hand from his, you scrub at your eyes, hoping the sting will keep you from unraveling. Hoping to feel anything but this unbearable sadness. 

“Then what is it?”

“It’s stupid.” 

He stays crouching with you, tracing the lines in your hand. “I’m sure it’s not.” 

His finger settles at the topmost line, smoothing along the sloping curve, finding the path easily in the depths and grooves. 

And he stays sitting with you, letting the wine seep into the floorboards, just waiting until you’re ready to share.

At times like these, you resent your boyfriend and his patience. You know he’ll wait until he gets an answer. As more time passes, the more guilty you feel. 

Finally, you sigh, resigning yourself to a truly miserable conversation. 

“Do you know what they say about broken glass?”

He shakes his head no, brows pinching together just slightly. You don’t like seeing him worried, especially not over things like this. Like you.

But in his funny way of showing up, he squeezes your hand to keep you going. You feel your pulse humming beneath him.

“Some people think it’s a sign of heartbreak. If you break a glass, there’s something bad about to happen in your life, like losing a job or breaking up with someone. And I know it's stupid, but I just got scared.”

The admission leaves you breathless. He just hums. Lifting one hand to trace the curve of your jaw, the other hand never leaving yours. He won’t let you look anywhere but his eyes and all you see is raw devotion.

Instead of some grand speech, some large gesture about how much he loves you and he’d never leave you, he just stays. Admiring you in this moment, the luminescent bulbs of the kitchen lights casing you in warm light.

After a while, he lets go of your face and picks up a shard of glass sitting next to you. Thinking as he turns it over in his hand.

“It’s not stupid, but I don’t think it's true. I’m not going to let your clumsiness dictate that we’re over.”

He raises the shard of glass up to you, letting the light hit it. 

“I think that it's how you look at it. You don’t have to let it be heartbreak, but maybe it’s something that gets a new life.”

“How?” You whisper, fearful you’ll shatter the moment with even a breath that’s too heavy.

“Anything you want. We could put it back together, use it as stained glass, throw it away, make wishes. I’ll eat it if you want.”

“Don’t eat glass, Shoyo.”

When you laugh, he looks at you. His shoulders drop, relieved you’re no longer crying.

“Okay. I won’t.” The relief is palpable in the air and it makes breathing just a bit easier. He’s always made things easier. 

“Can I ask you something else?”

You nod, voice too caught in your throat to say anything.

“Why did this upset you so much? Did you think I wanted to leave?”

And in one soul-crushing move, he shrinks into himself. So insignificant you might have thought he was just breathing. But you love quietly and steadily and know his mannerisms like a second language.

“Did I do something to make you want to leave?”

The idea makes your mending heart shatter once again. 

It’s your turn to grab at him, cupping his hands in yours and bringing them close to his chest. The proximity feels right. 

“No. Never.” 

“Then why?”

A simple question, one that makes you feel like you’re drowning. Because he sounds so gutted, an indiscernible voice crack that only the most attentive would pick up on. And you have to disappoint him once again with your answer. You know it’ll turn into him comforting you, like always, when you need to be the one there for him. 

But you’ll do anything to make him happy again, and right now that means sharing the truth.

“It's just… sometimes I feel like I drag you down. You love everyone so easily and it's so hard for me. You don’t get enough from me, so why should I keep you here when you deserve so much more?”

He sits there, letting your words soak into him. While you’re waiting for the final blow, to your surprise he laughs. A wholehearted one, one so joyous you can’t help but laugh along, even if it's strained.

Once his laughter subsides he sighs, your name a whisper on the wind. “You think I don’t get enough love from you? Really?”

You nod, not sure what else you can do.

“Then I must be doing a horrible job at showing my gratitude. I feel so loved by you it can be overwhelming.”

You can hardly believe the words he’s saying. They hit you like a shock to the system, turning your world inside out.

“But I don’t do anything crazy or romantic like you. Does that not get to you?”

“Not at all. I don’t want to be with another version of myself, and there’s not a gesture you could make that would mean more to me than you coming to all my games with my name on your back. Having you in my corner is more than I need.”

You hear the words he’s saying, but your mind and your heart are at war. He’s breaking down your walls without even trying but your brain refuses to accept it. 

“Don’t you ever get tired of having to do so much for me?”

“I like taking care of you. Don’t say that like it's a chore or a burden. It makes me feel wanted.”

He answers all your questions with ease, never once diminishing you or making you feel wrong for asking them.

And bit by bit, piece by piece, you’re starting to believe him. Hinata has taken up the jagged pieces of your heart, reached into the darkest parts of your soul, and brought them back to life. 

Just to drive it home, he pulls you in closer, resting your head against his chest. His heartbeat is strong and steady, racing just a bit faster now that you’re so close.

“I want you to tell me if you feel like this again. I can’t believe I let you go on so long thinking you were anything less than enough. You’re-”

His voice falters, and he changes direction.

“Let’s make a wish, okay?”

He picks up a shard of glass and carefully places it in your palm, covering it with his. You’re protected from any jagged edges or loose flecks by the expanse of his hand.

“You can’t say it out loud though. Or it won’t come true.” You warn, right before the words fall off his lips. 

His radiant smile peeks through, shining a few rays down to illuminate the scene before you. 

“I wish that you’ll always be by my side and that you’ll keep loving me the way only you do. Nothing can take that away from me, broken glass or anything else.”

When his golden eyes meet your gaze, it’s like you’re falling in love all over again. 

And sitting here, crouched on the floor with your lover, admiring a broken shard of glass, you’re glad he’s here.

[generalsdiary]

is this enough for a love confession?

Dr. Ratio x Aventurine

warnings: none

word count: 2k

a/n: idk if this is wht ppl call tsundere, this attacked me at 1am last night and held me in a chokehold until i wrote every single thing veritas had to confess, help? not beta read, aventurine came home guys

description: a small argument tips Ratio over to confess his feelings to Aventurine

„should I apologize?” beat. he tilts his head, annoyment fills the sound of his voice, “should I fucking apologize? for being… what?... capable! of-“ vague gesticulation, “actual conversation, for being ‘smart enough to keep up with you’ and not disappoint?” his tone of voice suggests he is getting agitated by the second while trying to remain calm, “for being a competent conversationalist?” Aventurine scoffs, he takes the black gloves off of his hands along with the jewelry. “you will look at me while I talk to you- or, I’m sorry, is the view of a gambler- below one such as yourself?” he steps forward, taking Veritas’ chin in his hand making the taller man face him. Ratio’s expression appears tired, defeated almost.

Veritas’ eyes turn to meet his. there’s a certain silence, stillness… he knows he set him off by being insensitive or saying something that is triggering to a tired Aventurine. the apology is already dancing on his lips, ready to spill over the soft hills of the plush pink. Veritas hums, “I apologize, I must’ve been careless, although you seem a tad unwell in this moment- perhaps a cold shower would help? furthermore, no, you needn’t apologize.”

“I’m tired of this. I feel like you just don’t care.” Aventurine hisses with disappointment dripping from his words, he lets go of Ratio’s chin and looks away. “I… do not care?” Veritas calmly asks. “Aventurine, is this truly about that or did you have a difficult day?” “can it not be both? and, perhaps, do not undermine me, Doctor.” Aventurine snaps back like a whip.

Veritas sighs, pinching the skin between his brows in thought for a couple of moments. after sorting his thoughts he stands straight and looks at Aventurine who isn’t even turned towards him anymore. his words start low, calm, and slowly crescendo into a louder tone, more confidently, “I care. of course I care. not even a fool would be able to miss how much I care. I stand beside you at this moment and my heart and mind is yours, my body-“ he gives a dry chuckle, “is yours the stomp on. and if you’re expecting some warm, romantic words you’re asking the wrong man, I am a lot of things but I am no romantic.” he looks to the ground, gathering his thoughts once more. “if something happened to you I would never be the same. if anything, I think I’d turn for worse, seeking knowledge that is forbidden for a damn reason just to... bring you back. and, I’d- I’d take you reborn in any shape you’d come.” he takes a deep breath, “I cannot imagine starting my day without embracing you first thing in the morning, smelling your shampoo on the pillows, your hair falling through my fingers like melting gold… I cannot imagine my baths without you annoyingly popping in asking if you can join- or my breakfast without you reading me the day’s news while I complain about the insignificance of it. maybe I’m a creature of habit, and I simply grew used to you and you may argue that.” he falls silent, speaking the next words a tad louder than a whisper, “I yearn to be near you. I gravitate to you like a metal to a magnet; uncontrollably and eagerly. my day feels incomplete when I do not get to share it with you and everything that happened. the weight of your body on top of mine feels comforting at night and I cannot sleep without the pressure on my chest and your scent around me. mentally I feel like I crawl on my knees to get home to see you, like an insect bent over and staying low to the ground. just to get to you and my heart begs to kiss you when I do get home. to taste your lips like drinking mint tea with honey, the freshness because it feels every time like it is the first time, and honey because I cannot resist the sugar the same as any other human. I feel like a parched man without your touch, I can barely breathe when I don’t see you and that damn plaster head doesn’t help to tune it out when I’m sick and you’re my only remedy. and on the days you cannot handle physical contact, I pray that the next day I could be blessed with that exhilarating feeling of kissing your lips. like now… you took off your gloves and I’m weak in my knees like a little boy over how pretty they are- like I’ve never held them before, how delicate they look, how I get to see them, and how I wish to kiss every pretty vein while telling you its name in Latin and its function. what a blessing it would be to hear you giggle at my funny words and gentle touch, and then I’d kiss your knuckles and talk even more; about your bones and joints, naming them and talking all the time like I’m a teenager trying to impress my crush when all I’m doing is rambling as an excuse to look into your beautiful eyes and get your attention on me. you could hate me and I’d be happy you’d use your time on a strong emotion while thinking of me. you are my sun, I circle around you, a moth to the shiniest flame. and perhaps I can now understand believers of religions and sinners because I’d pray for your time and your gaze, and, oh Aeons, I’d sin for you, for your presence, your body, your voice, your everything. so please, please… do not say I don’t care when I would rip the skin off of my own body to keep you warm. I’m yours… Kakavasha, even if it burns me and destroys me from the inside out.” a stumbling love confession, portraying a man lost and needy. with his ending words he steps closer, and rests his forehead on Aventurine’s.

Aventurine feels speechless, he has a full monologue surely ready to give to Veritas if the need arises but for now he looks at him with shaky eyes and a trembling bottom lip, itching to meet his. he outstretches his arm, taking Ratio’s hand in his and the taller man exhales deeply.

“you do care,” Aventurine whispers the only thing that comes to mind. Veritas opens his eyes and stands straight once more. he nods. “perhaps I ought to care less”

“marry me” Aventurine raises his chin, meeting Veritas’ gaze with a sweet smile. “absolutely not. the concept of marriage is idiotic, moreover, I do not require a piece of paper to tell me I am loyal to another” he scoffs, rolling his eyes at the thought of it, making Aventurine chuckle. “hm.. of course not…”

“dinner?” Veritas suggests in a normal tone. “sure, official?” Aventurine suspects this might not be a casual outing. “sadly. we must show up for a dinner event, organized by your employer and mine.” he observes the smaller hand in his, thumb caressing Aventurine’s knuckles. “maybe I’ll find a way for us to leave early.” Aventurine flashes him a smile, “music to my ears, Doc.”

a/n: yes I even sneaked in a Kafka reference in there (the writer not the hsr character), also in case you didn't read it - I wrote a dinner event fluff thingy about them hehe here legato*

[thewebcomicsreview]

Hamsteak? Again? God, everything happens so much, but at least we're done with Vriska. And I can copy and paste text again. Wowsers. Anyway we're out of hell and now we're with The Moms, in a suspiciously green-and-orange environment.

ROSE: This is an impressive shield. ROSE: I don't think I've ever seen you make one this size before. JADE: ive been practicing! JADE: if i stay focused i should be able to keep it up for quite a while.

Oh hey, starting us right off with Deepest Lore, as Jade can apparently make shields. We've never really seen her "natural" Witch of Space powers in the original comic, since she was using First Guardian powers the whole time (or no powers and just gadgets like the soothspecs, back before everyone became X-Men). I've been wondering what she could do au natural, and...apparently it's shields? Would not have called that, but sure.

JADE: between yiffys capture and rescue and finding dave... JADE: like that... JADE: i just feel like my life flashed before my eyes and it made me a little crazy! JADE: after being unconscious for a bit things feel way clearer now

It's still weird to me that Dave's "death" was so recent to the characters. That was in the epilogues! We made a sequel series since then! It got cancelled! Then it got revived! It was a long time!

JADE: after being unconscious for a bit things feel way clearer now ROSE: Nothing beats a rump to the skull for mental clarity. JADE: the mistakes we made are so obvious to me now JADE: embarrassingly obvious!

Being unconscious is Jade's natural state, so naturally it heals her. Also I detect a justification for a small change in Candy Jade's characterization here, like she'll be acting differently that she has been and this is the excuse. Lets stick a pin in that thought, though.

JADE: this whole situation is my fault and even though it just keeps getting more frustrating and shitty im going to do right by you JADE: were going to figure this out ROSE: Are you sure it's prudent to keep this amateur marriage counselor performance up? JADE: rose... JADE: youre taking this seriously JADE: right? ROSE: I don't know what you mean by that.

I really do like this characterization of Candy Rose, though (which is apparently also a slight retcon from the original plans, according to the writer commentaries). None of this is real, so she doesn't give a shit about any of it. Her mid-life crisis is worse than John's.

JADE: though playing stupid and cajoling her into slapping me around for catharsis wont work anymore JADE: well have to think of something else... ROSE: Jade, I've been compliant with these clumsy machinations partially because they weren't all that consequential at the time, but you need to cut your losses.

Oh we are hard retconning Candy Jade's personality here. She's not an emotional wreck at all, at least part of it is her clumsy attempt at being Machiavellian. Are they building up to changing Yiffy's backstory, far and away the least popular idea in HS2?

JADE: "ohhhh bluh bluh blah i can see the fruitlessness of all our clumsy insignificant thrashing in fates cosmic current" JADE: dont forget im more than a little versed in future sight myself ok JADE: i dont care how credible it seems, you cant depend on that information!

Opens Homestuck_2_Speculation.rtf.doc.xpf.bro

What information is this, Jade? Is it related to the visions Calliope had that let her build the machine? The only future sight Jade's ever had is the clouds of Skaia

JADE: "abloo hoo hoo, my life is a monkey paw, everything i want hurts me in the end" ROSE: It was a little pathetic. JADE: I KNOW!

Oh man, that's going back deep.

This aspect of Jade, that deep down she's a bit of a wreck but she toughs it out because she hates her own weakness, hasn't really been focused on since Act 4 of the original comic when it got personified in Jadesprite. It's nice to see that aspect referenced again here. I liked Jade's speech justifying Yiffy's existence, it did a lot to make that plot point go down smoother, but I totally buy that Jade herself hated it. Kind of funny that we had six updates of Vriscourse and now I have way more to say about this one expository speech out of Best Girl, but Jade's actually a pretty complex character and her issues are so often glossed over as "Wow she had to live in isolation for three years after her brother and boyfriend randomly exploded and that's kind of sad I guess", so it's nice to spend some time inside her head like this.

JADE: the truth is whatever people WANT to believe JADE: you can either try forcing them to understand your side JADE: leave it completely in their hands and take no responsibility JADE: or you work with their wants and perspectives JADE: and make some informed compromises ROSE: Over the state of reality? JADE: rose i am begging you can you please cut it out with all the cryptic cosmic crap and come back down to earth???

One of my pet peeves of the epilogues is that Dave Strider turns into a Bernie Sanders supporter and keeps talking about "neoliberalism" despite living in a wacky future utopia planet and having never lived through the 2016 Democratic Primary that all his talking points were cribbed from, but we have an explanation for that now. It's his wife. Jade was the neoliberal all along.

JADE: thats whats scaring me! JADE: youre not prepared for how bad it can get JADE: you have no idea at all!!!!!!!!!!! ROSE: If you say so.

That was a joke but this is sounding a little suspiciously like voting discourse, but that might just be me being election-brained. God I'm so stressed, please vote for Harris if for no other reason to make Trump-analogue Jane Crocker feel dated and weird.

Jade has no idea what she’s talking about. There’s not a thing to worry about here. You came out the womb playing defense

You didn't come out of a womb at all. You've never even been in one. Also holy shit this page is called Rose: Ramble and it's early-HS2 levels of Wall of Text, though I think you're actually intended to glaze over it a little.

It doesn’t really matter, in the long run. Important or not, Vriska’s going to fail. Jane’s going to fail, too; really, just about everyone is going to fail to do something that really matters. In an unsuccessful effort to stave off that failure, and perhaps to atone for it on some level, Calliope will sacrifice herself, fruitlessly. You’re not exempt from the firing squad, either. In the imminent battle, you are going to be shot in the head, the bullet burying deep into your moral grey matter and jamming up the works of your conditional immortality, leaving you confined to a hospital bed. You had to pull all kinds of ridiculous, eyebrow-raising Chaos Theory shit to figure that one out. The rat-tail was worth it, your daughter’s anguish aside.

It's generally considered bad writing to have a prophecy not come true, but I think this is bullshit and Rose's Seer of Light powers don't work in a land of pure void.

KANAYA: Those Two Will Not Be Joining Us On The Battlefield Either KARKAT: OH? KANAYA: I Know Such Decisions Are Well Above My Pay Grade And That The Critical Need To Win This Battle Far Outweighs My Marital Discomfort KANAYA: And Being Down Two Gods Isnt Exactly Ideal KANAYA: But... KANAYA: I Cant KANAYA: Sorry KARKAT: DON'T BE.

KARKAT: FUCK ‘EM.

Man, Punished Karkat is cool.

Man, I love how stupid Jane's death ray looks. It's a cake!

Your father never did voice any kind of opinion on your parenting style. In hindsight, he was probably avoiding the subject altogether.

It's hard to talk with your dad when he's not allowed to have any dialogue due to stylistic convention. I have that issue with my uncle.

JAKE: Oh. JANE: chhhhhhhhlmm nnnn. JAKE: OH CRIPES! JAKE: I'M SORRY JANEY!!! JANE: kkkkkkkkaaaaaa?? JAKE: JUST- S-STAY STILL OK?

lmao. This is the absolutely best way this assassination attempt could've gone.

This art is excellent.

Man, this was a great update, Jesus. So much shit is going on, and while HS2 and HS:BC have had good moments this is the first time in a long while I've really had that classic Homestuck feeling that made me fall in love with the comic in the first place.

[lunnats]

I present to you, a listener character!!

YouTube Audio Series: Gator Boys

Listener: Bug (in nearly all varieties except literally)

Name: Beatrice "Trish" Atknis

Never knew a biological family, grew up in an orphanage in Aakahn, where the environment was less than ideal for a small child. The kids in their care would quickly learn to fend for themselves, stealing food, coin purses, medical supplies, whatever they might need whenever they might get the chance to get it.

Beatrice learned quickly to play the tough girl act, to play at being confident and do everything on her own.

When she managed to get out of the orphanage, she tried to get a better life for herself with an honest job but it's not as easy as it seemed to be for everyone else. After a few years of bouncing from job to job, she decided to try to be a hunter, the work' i's dangerous but she could handle herself and not only was it well paid but hunting down monsters sounded like an honorable enough job. What could possibly go wrong?

She could get herself lost and then step right into a bear trap! That's what could go wrong! Because Divines forbid anything actually works her way even once! Her very long and varied list of curses did not seem like enough as images of dying alone in the middle of nowhere where bleeding out or starving were the better options when compared to being brutally murdered by some swamp moster made the rounds in her head... Maybe her next life would be better, because there was no way it could actually be worse! At least it wasn't like she was leaving anyone behind to remember her, let alone miss her...

As it happens, her whole life was about to take a turn she had never even dreamt possible.

Turns out, the “monsters” of the swamp weren’t the big green and clawed alligator half bloods, but the humans who hunted them. Kinder than any human she had ever met, these gators take her in and show her something she had only ever dreamt of – a true home. They look after her when she's injured and when she's sick, never doing anything to make her feel like a burden. They care for each other and even for her, a human who they know basically nothing about "Do humans not help each other? The way I see it, it's only natural to help a person when they need it." an action that seemed so natural to them yet feels absolutely foreign to her even though she knew it shouldn't. For the first time ever she felt... Safe.

Confessing to being a hunter was the scariest thing she’d ever even considered doing, but Bodie admits to have known all along and so revealing himself SOMEHOW even kinder than she already thought him to be. But what about Marco? Or, Divines forbid, Timmy…?

As she's gathering her courage and picking just the right words and where to even START that conversation, the chance gets taken away from her... With the catfish out of the bag, she just hopes to be able to help and maybe, just maybe, Divines willing, they'd understand too.

***

OK! I've done it! @astralbulldragon13 I'm tagging you OBVIOUSLY for dragging me into making this and everyone else you said I should tag... So yeah...

@rozeliyawashereyall @asmrbrainrot @willowve01 @kaiamtt @iistxrmyskyii @insignificant-anarchy @stxph-artist @aspenm00n @keyaartz @fangsshadow @rustycopper4use @piffany666 @lunaritychuwolf @dreamyshape @idontevenknow7878 @littlesiren79 @castbracelet240 @strayharmony943 @proxdragon @tiefling-chaos @threeweekinsomnia @redcated @wilderrorcard @diamondzoey @fennaboysenberry

[silent-browser]

Fuck it. Insane yandere with a noise sensitive darling.

The very first time he ever saw you scared was because of a particularly aggressive phone conversation he was having back when he still considered himself stable. It was also the first time he ever felt his psyche crack.

It was supposed to be date night. Going to pick out a some books in the library and then off to a small vietnamese place near by that had amazing pho. A perfect and quiet night out. A night was was interrupted and nearly ruined before it even got started.

Work. Always work. A crappy office with even crappier management. They tried to call him in.

You can cover so-and-so's shift can't you? You will get recommended for that higher position we were talking about last time if you do.

Rudeness at its finest. He explained politely that he had a prior commitment and that he can't come in.

If it's a partner I'm sure they wouldn't mind. After all it's more money in your bank account and you can just make it up to them later.

He still can't come in. He just wants to spend a relaxing night with his-

If you can't commit yourself fully to this company I'm afraid that we may just have to write you up for insubordination. Now you should really consider what's more important. Your lively hood or one insignificant person.

He felt like an explosion went off in his brain. He roared down the receiver of the phone. How dare they threaten his job. His income. His darling. Disgusting, awful things were said that night, including threats to sue and rip that whole company to shreds. That eventful phone call ended when he threw his phone at the opposite end of the couch he was sitting on.

With frustration and rage still swimming in his mind he started ranting. Growling and pacing his living room like a caged predator when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder. He had whipped around and was ready to rip into whomever touched him until he realized who was standing there as well as the expression on their face.

His partner. His lovely partner was standing there. Shaken. Scared. He didn't mean to make you scared. He's so sorry. Please let him hug you. You don't like certain loud noises? He's even more sorry. He wishes he knew sooner. Reassureances that an outburst like that won't happen infront of you again.

The second time he saw that frightened look on your precious face was when he went on trial for murdering three entire departments from his office.

He saw you in the audience of that trial. He wanted to catch your eye. Hopeing to get across the message that he would be home soon. Instead he saw raw fear and disbelief. And suddenly the extra time off he had gained through the murdering of all those people didn't feel like an accomplishment. It felt like shame.

The crying mothers and screaming loved ones never moved him. The guilty charge didn't get phase him. Life in prison even seemed preferable at the time. Anything to get him to stop looking at and remembering your terrified face.

The third and hopefully final time he saw that look, the one that haunted his nightmares and delusions now, was when he came back.

Prison really only did one good thing for him. Gave him time to work out. He had never been stronger or in better shape. Hopefully it was a shape you were attracted to, was a common thought for him during his time in prison. In every other aspect it only caused him to get worse. Nightmares of you running away from him, hallucinations of your voice telling him that you didn't love him anymore but worst of them all were the visions of your body, broken and bruised, usually accompanied by more auditory hallucinations of you telling him that this was all his fault. He was tortured by his own mind daily. So when he finally got out he made it his new life's mission to take care of his darling. Whatever the cost.

He had to be quiet when breaking into your new house. Loud noises scare darling. If I scare darling I'm an awful and unworthy boyfriend. Don't scare them don't scare them don't scare them.

He had to be careful when drugging you. Darling hates needles... But this is necessary! But darling hates needles... Please don't hate me...

He had to be confident leaving your house. Nothing to see here. Just a man with THE MOST WONDERFUL AND AMAZING HUMAN BEING IN HIS ARMS, and wrapped in a carpet. I hope they can breathe in there... Have I suffocated them!? Have I just killed my darling!?!

He had to rush to the car and speed off.

He keeps you in a cabin now. Deep in a forest. No news from the modern world reaches here. None of the reports of an escaped convict from a mental asylum (but that was allowed right? He escaped for true love after all.). No reports about his old boss being found in his home, gutted and torn apart with his heart removed (that heart would make a fantastic anniversary present! A show of his devotion and ability). No reports about the expartner of the infamous workplace ripper suddenly disappearing the same night as the asylum escape. (Better this way in his opinion. Those other FAKES didn't really care about you. They were only reporting it because the story would bring in some money. Hmm... Maybe he should visit that news station soon... Teach them the error of their ways...)

[yuzurujenn]

[2024.11.01] AERA x Yuzuru Hanyu Photobook "Shin" - Q&A session

Q: When you feel uncomfortable in your current environment, should you try harder or choose to change your environment? What standards do you use to judge? A: I think when you really want to work hard, but you know that no matter how hard you try, you won't get better results, then maybe it's time to consider changing your environment. Or perhaps it depends on whether you see "changing the environment" as giving up or as an opportunity to finally continue striving. So, I believe that “how I feel inside about changing my environment” is my standard for judgment. If I feel like I’m “giving up” or “escaping” when trying to change my environment, then it might be better not to change.

Q: When you feel so small that it's overwhelming and you have no confidence, what words do you use to boost your self-affirmation? Can you share a magic phrase? A: Hmm… Words? I don’t have such a phrase, so I can only “put my head down and work hard.” I can only keep trying. I’ve always felt this way, whether it’s about things outside of skating or skating itself, I strongly feel that “I’m too insignificant.” I lack confidence. But because I lack confidence, I push myself to work hard. I practice to the point where I think, “If I reach this level, I should feel a bit more confident.” I’m someone who manages to hold on through hard work. So, I don’t think there’s a magic phrase that works wonders when confidence is low. It’s just about doing your best, that’s all.

Q: When I’m about to have an important event, I always worry too much about my health management, which makes my physical condition worse. Hanyu, how do you manage your health? A: Honestly, I feel a bit helpless about this. Before big events, I also end up exhausting myself. I get so nervous that I have stomach aches and feel nauseous, but how should I put it… I accept that this situation can happen from the very beginning. With this mindset, sometimes I think, “Hey, surprisingly, my condition this time isn’t bad,” or when I consider my poor physical state as the norm, I feel great when I’m in good shape and just think, “Oh, it’s not bad,” when I’m not feeling well.

Q: When I have to talk with difficult people at work, I find it hard to make eye contact. How do you manage communication with challenging individuals, Hanyu? A: In those situations, I don’t think it’s necessary to look directly into the other person’s eyes. From a zoological perspective, “looking someone in the eye” can be seen as a form of intimidation, so sometimes not trying to maintain eye contact actually makes the other person feel more comfortable. So, I try not to overly fixate on their eyes.

Q: Recently, I find that I suddenly forget small things… How do you remember them in this case? ① Try to think hard ② Look it up ③ Use your own unique method to think hard A: I understand the urge to look things up because you don’t want to waste time, but that does give a feeling of having lost to yourself… What to do? I don’t have any unique tricks… Hmm? Actually, maybe I do? I think I will be like, “If I can’t recall it, I’ll just set it aside until I can remember.” While I do try to think hard about it, if I can’t recall it at that moment, then I might just let it go. I accept it as “not being able to recall means I don’t need it right now.”

Q: I don’t have friends I can call close friends, and I feel very lonely. Hanyu mentioned close friends recently. How can I meet someone like that? A: Ah, I can only say it’s fate. How should I put it? It means that there is someone with whom I get along well. I feel that if it is this person, I will not feel tired when I am together. If it is this person, it is easy to talk about anything. Sometimes I am surprised that I can talk so much. For me, I think it’s because I’ve been thinking about performance with that close friend, exchanging ideas and working together, so, how should I put it? It’s like people with similar views on performance and similar values in life might become close friends. I have that feeling. But truly, it’s all about chance. If you do encounter someone, you’ll feel very lucky... Even if you don’t meet someone, if you go looking, you might find unexpected connections. They don’t necessarily have to be a person from the real world, they could be from a fictional world or a book. As long as you can have moments that bring you peace of mind, moments where you don’t have to think about anything, that might be good.

Q: When something you’ve poured your pride and perseverance into doesn’t get the expected response or evaluation, how does Hanyu feel? A: I probably just think, “My efforts weren’t enough.” I understand that sense of perseverance and pride very well, because I’m a creator and a performer myself, so I empathise deeply. But if it doesn’t come across, it might just mean my work is still half-baked... How to say it? Being too radical can lead to various criticisms and all sorts of feedback, but ultimately, we’re striving to make people feel good, so I reflect on whether my efforts were enough.

Q: After watching Hanyu’s performances, although I was indeed there, the memories feel blurry, like a dream. How does Hanyu preserve such incredibly happy memories? A: Actually, my own memories can’t linger much either. Good memories don’t tend to last long, that’s a rule in my heart. Unpleasant memories or failures tend to stick around unexpectedly. So, I try to recall the memory of that moment as much as possible. It’s like memorising words. When memorising English words, you say them out loud or write them down multiple times, right? It’s a bit like that feeling. I keep picturing that memory in my mind countless times. Even though I don’t know if it’s a real memory, that moment’s memory temporarily takes shape, and that’s how I remember it. That’s how I remember the scene around me during my performance at the PyeongChang Winter Olympics.

Q: I have a major failure that makes me feel very frustrated every time I think about it. If it were Hanyu, how would you overcome it? A: Ah… I just don’t touch it (laughs). I completely avoid that topic and don’t think about it at all. That’s how I do it.

Source: https://weibo.com/6473801248/OEil7CHGs https://weibo.com/6473801248/OEirAk5Bv https://weibo.com/6473801248/OEiFAf2Vv

Info: https://www.amazon.co.jp/dp/4023323748

[colgatebluemintygel]

Pls tell me about oao for the wip ask game

HELLOOO EL my beloved mutual ... oao well.. it's just this silly little thing that i've been working for er ... nearly 2 years 😇 hehe allow me to share some lil deleted snippets with you <3333

from: tuscany part one

Sirius suddenly feels sad and furious all at once. He’s sad that this is a side of Regulus that he’s not allowed to see anymore. He’s furious at Regulus for maintaining this inexplicable distance that seems to have developed between them. Where had everything gone so wrong? Sirius doesn’t even want to answer that question. Where hadn’t it? At some point, they’d stopped talking to each other; Sirius self-destructed and tore through that house like a comet. Regulus retreated so far into himself that Sirius is certain that he left a part of himself behind in that house. Sirius doesn’t blame him. Sometimes he feels the same; that he’s permanently lost a vital part of himself. Perhaps that’s why Sirius is so desperate for love; to feel loved. To feel wanted. To fill the void he feels inside himself. To fill the gaping wound inside himself. And, if Sirius is honest with himself, he’s jealous. He’s horribly, dangerously jealous: he’s jealous that Regulus, who grew up in the same loveless environment as him, has found not just one but two people to spend his life with. Sirius couldn’t even hold down one. And if he’s honest with himself, what Alphard had said the day before had been completely right: the love had long worn off between him and Emmeline. He’d clung to her like a raft. The fear of being alone was worse than whatever hadn’t been working between them.

from: tuscany part two

Sirius remembers the way that Walburga’s face would ripple and contort, her mouth a tight, white line as she’d say, ‘Regulus is a good child, quiet. Not like you were.’ Her comments always perplexed Sirius. he doesn’t remember himself ever making much noise at all. In fact, most of Sirius’s childhood memories involve him trying to take up as little space as possible.  He remembers the time that they passed Hamleys and he got a bit teary-eyed because Walburga always refused to let him go inside. He remembers her eyes flaring like quicksilver and the tight grasp of her hand around his wrist as she led him to a nearby restaurant bathroom. He remembers how the lemongrass soap had burned on his tongue for hours afterwards. He’s never liked lemon, since.  He has plenty of other memories just like it, accompanied by all the others that he tries his best to forget. Even now, Regulus will make the odd comment about how Sirius rebelled, in ways both small and large, quiet and loud. Sirius doesn’t remember those moments. What he does remember is trying to make himself so small, so quiet and insignificant, that he constantly felt like he was bursting at the seams.  Sirius remembers trying so hard, all the time. Regulus remembers Sirius not trying at all. He’s always found it strange how people remember the same events. He wonders how it felt when he was even younger and didn’t know any better than to throw himself down on the ground and scream. Sirius wonders if he’s ever really, truly screamed. He feels like he’s stuck there, sometimes. Stuck in that limbo, that precipice, between a child who screams because they don’t know better, and a child who no longer needs to scream because they’ve learnt how to process their emotions in other ways. Yet, Sirius doesn’t scream, and he doesn’t throw a tantrum. Instead, he slouches back in his seat and stares out the window.

from: berlin??? i think..

The pieces start to slot into place. He remembers their uni years, and how Remus would disappear every night for a few hours, always to reappear looking pink cheeked and messy haired. Even when their lives started to become more separate, their flats scattered across different London boroughs, Remus would always find his way back to Sirius’s flat at the end of the night. He remembers Emmeline the first few times it happened, face drawn and tired, answering the door at 4 am. “It’s Remus,” she’d say, tired and annoyed. “Isn’t there somewhere else he can stay? He has his own flat—“ Then, after the twentieth, fiftieth time, nothing. Remus would always be gone in the morning. They never talked about it. It never struck Sirius as odd until now.

[madame-fear]

Lucerys getting wounded at training and he tries to hide it from you but ohh you do notice, the way he would wince when his arm is moving, or when he's ever so slightly limping down the stairs. It makes you so sad that he's hurt and knowing he's a prince - he will encounter battles in the future. You prod him into telling you his injury and he tries to play it off like 'nah its just a bruise' or 'its just a little cut don't worry about it' but when he rolls up his sleeve or takes off his shirt when you're alone in your shared quarters, its nowhere near little. He allows you to patch him up and he sees how his injury upsets his wife so much that he promises to be more careful and more mindful in training 🥺🥺

Anon, you have no idea how I deeply felt your request in my heart ❤🥺

Even if throughout the years Lucerys, your now Lord Husband, became more skilled with swords and training for battles, he still gets wounds and injuries from it — more often than you'd like, much to your dismay.

You're always proudly staring at him from a distance while he's training, and you always notice the way the other person he's training either cuts him — this happens several times — or he just accidentally looses his grip on the sword and stumbles, falling to the ground, making you flinch everytime that happens. Obviously you know he's surely hurt, but when you talk to him about it, he always tells you not to worry, and that he's not injured at all — just a 'small, insignificant cut/bruise'.

But that's a lie, and he's a bad, bad liar. The way he winces when you grasp his arm, how you occasionally saw some bruises hidden under his sleeves, how he limps sometimes when walking and he flinches. Seeing him in this state absolutely shatters your heart for your dragon prince, whom you adore ever so dearly — and yet, you know he'll encounter worse things in future battles. But you just want to be there for him, and protect him.

At one point, you just grow terribly concerned with the mind-eating thoughts of his injuries, so you just insist too much to the point that, when you're alone in the chambers you share, he'll either just roll his sleeve up, or take off his shirt briefly only to reveal how badly cut he is. There are several big cuts, and bruises all over his body. Of course, he never wanted to tell you — or always tried to distract you from it — because he knew that you'd kind of be in between scolding him, and being even more concerned than you already were.

With a stern tone, you make him sit in the edge of your bed while you bring a kit with all things for patching some open wounds up, and so he does that. He's a bit embarrassed of it, especially seeing how your face is a mix of being upset, and worry, so his gaze would be always down on the floor, not being able to look at you out of shame. Once you're finished patching him, you obviously scolded him like the loving yet concerned wife you are.

“Lucerys, I don't want you to ever hide such things from me. Can you not see I cannot bear the thought of you being even merely hurt?! The pain it brings me to know you are severely wounded, and you would dismiss it!”

Seeing — and hearing — how your eyes are watery and your voice breaks a bit shatters his heart. Luke hates seeing his wife feel this sad about his own injuries, and knowing how genuinely concerned she is for him. So, after that, he'll gently wrap his arms around your body, and would kiss the top of your head ever so delicately.

“I promise I will be more careful and thoughtful about it when training, my love. I do not want you to feel this way.”

Of course, he'd spoil and drown you too much with love and affection, reassuring you that he'll be more mindful about it, and that he will now tell you if he is ever hurt, or cut. You're his beloved darling wife, his companion, and he'd do everything to see you joyfull, and well.

The next times you see him training, he fulfilled his promises. His movements were more careful, yet sharper enough as to not get cut several times like he used to, or even stumble more easily to the floor — and seeing your proud and satisfied grin, makes him feel his very own pride overwhelming him.

♡ taglist : ♡

@jjamieberry @anemicroyalcore @countsmoon @tickle-euphoria @beeebo234 @manuholland6 @capellaadara @kyuupidwrites @tchatso @dopepersonacloudllama @zzz000eee

[voltronisanobsession]

Lance with a Genderfluid S/O who feels Insignificant

Ok!! so this was requested by @girlboypersonthingy , who wanted hcs with Lance and a gender-fluid/non-binary s/o who feels like he’s kinda pushing them aside/insignificant to him!

Ngl I had a little trouble writing this, so I hope i was able to execute this well!

You and Lance have built a really strong relationship with each other

Despite Lances’ initial confusion, he was quick to understand that you didn’t identify as one gender

He’s SOOO supportive of you like this boy would do anything to keep you feeling comfortable in your own skin

But it’s the little things he won’t truly understand, like how clothes never seemed to fit in the right places, or the weird feeling that would rise in you whenever you unknowingly compared yourself to another person

The latter seemed to happen more often though as the boy spoke with others around him

The flirty grins he’d send the girls he met, or the playful comments he would make that were different from the ones he would tell you

Was it just you or did it feel like you guys were growing apart?

It made you begin doubting if Lance even liked you in a romantic sense

Was it because you weren’t like the girls who would return his flirty grins with a sweet smile?

Were you just not good enough as you were? Did he have a preference for a specific gender?

Doubts and insecurities began gnawing in the back of your mind the longer Lance kept up his playboy act

Why didn’t he hold your hand? Was he afraid to be seen with you?

Should you were more feminine clothing? Even if there were days that you didn’t want to?

Lance began noticing the small changes in your appearance and mood though

The way you began wearing a little more makeup, the way you began curling in on yourself whenever there was a girl around

He grew suspicious of your behavior but decided not to say anything, thinking maybe it would pass

Wrong mistake buddy

I think he really starts noticing your changes when you start pulling away from his touch, avoiding him whenever he’s talking to someone or just in general

“Has y/n been acting weird? I feel like they’re acting weird. Are they acting weird?”

“Lance, if you think they’re acting weird, then why don’t you go ask them if somethings wrong??”

Lord someone save Pidge from this dude💔

He definitely drags her around, along with Hunk, trying to find clues on why you’re acting so differently now!

Finally after a couple of days of you avoiding him in the halls of the castle, he decides to just ask you what’s been bothering you

“Y/n hey! Um is something going on?”

“What uh, what do you mean?”

He would start listing all the stuff he’s noticed about you and this entire week, which makes you feel even more worse once you hear how obvious you had been

Lance is just so confused, bless his clueless soul

You would get frustrated and finally just spill it all out

It’s hard for you because it really does feel like your showing a part of your soul, it makes you feel vunerable

“I can’t be like those other girls Lance! I just feel like sometimes you would prefer if I were just a girl or just a boy, but I cant.”

It’s like the whole world stops for him because is this how you truly felt?

Did you really think that he didn’t want you, for you?

“I know I’m not the ideal partner, so if you want to find someone else who can-“

“WAIT WAIT WHAT NO!”

Seeing your eyes, Lance feels so bad for making you think that he didn’t want you and ugh he just feels terrible💔

“Why would you think I would want anyone besides you?!”

“W-well, the way you look at others made me… you know, think you wanted to be with someone else who could stick to one gender…”

Cue loud shattering effect cuz this dudes heart just BROKE

“No! No no aw man! I’m so sorry i made you feel that way! I know I can do that sometimes, habits die hard. But I promise you I don’t want anyone. Only you. Regardless of who you are and choose to be.”

After you both talk it out for a while, it still takes some time for you to feel fully secure in your relationship again

Lance does everything in his power to assure you that you’re the only he wants

When you’re feeling a certain way and want to be referred to a specific pronoun, he’s 100% supporting you no matter what

Fully believes that your gender, or uh lack of gender, doesn’t define your relationship

He’s so respectful of you and is always willing to talk to you whenever you’re feeling upset about yourself

Man he’s just so UGGHHHH💔💔💔💔

He’s so proud of you, and he makes sure to always reassure you about your guys’ relationship

I love Lance so much i can’t even💔

[blackjackkent]

Tiefling party time!

I really do feel like we could have cleaned up the giant blood sigil left from Rakha's reign of terror before inviting guests over, but what do I know?

Rakha is definitely REALLY nervous about this whole situation. She remembers when Alfira came and what happened to her, and this is way more guests now. The beast is stirring irritably in her brain at the flood of relative strangers and she knows, all too well, that she is capable of slipping tonight just as she did then.

So she keeps to herself, at least at first, which is how she ends up on the beach at the edge of camp with Wyll.

She didn't entirely mean to follow him, at least not consciously... but she's aware that she feels the strain in her head relax when she realizes he's there. Somewhere along the line, of all the members of their little band, he became the point where she feels the most at ease - he answers her questions without judgment. He has guided her first fumbling attempts to stand against the beast's hunger.

Even her trust in Lae'zel, firm as it is, does not quite bring the same sense of... comfort.

For a little while, she stands and watches him silently. He seems lost in thought, staring out at the slowly rolling surface of the river. Finally she takes a step forward; her boot knocks against a small pebble, sending it clattering along the rocky beach into the water, and he jumps, spinning around.

"Agh. Hells," he mutters sheepishly. "I was hoping you wouldn't notice I was gone."

She raises an eyebrow. Why? she wonders. Does he think his presence insignificant? Does he think she thinks his presence insignificant?

"Are you all right?" she asks quietly.

He smiles ruefully. "Oh. I'm deeply proud of you. A touch less so of myself."

She stares at him. Proud? Of all the things she expected him to say, that was not one of them. She has come far enough in the time since the nautiloid to know that there is a battle to be fought within herself - that there is more to her than the beast if she is willing to find it. But she has not come nearly far enough to believe that battle is being won, not yet.

But he says he is proud of her. And the fact makes her feel... strange. Warm. As if she has crossed some milestone she was not aware of reaching for.

Thank you, she wants to say - but then she registers the second half of his comment, and gives him a questioning look. Not proud of yourself? Why?

(A/N: Look at his poor sad eyes. :( Wyll needs a big hug stat.)

"In truth, I don't feel in a festive mood," he says with a slight shrug. "And I didn't want to cast a grey cloud over the night."

She nods, thinking he means the recent revelations about his father - which would be understandable enough - but he keeps talking. "I'm a devil. I love the people from the grove, but I unsettle them deep down. As I seem to unsettle everyone nowadays."

His face twists with sudden anguish, and he turns away, looking out at the water. "You don't want a devil at your party," he mutters bitterly. "Horns this sharp will pop the balloons, you see. And the guests won't take kindly to scars quite so monstrous."

Ah. She listens in silence, taking in these new details, filing them away. Wyll's transformation makes him like those who drew the teeth-lings into the Hells in the first place. It makes him look like their enemy. Like many people's enemies.

But not like hers. "You don't unsettle me," she says. It's a blunt statement, matter-of-fact. "You know that." There is much worse in me than anything you have ever shown me. And you have looked at me without blinking.

His head lifts and he looks at her intently for a moment. She can't quite read the expression in his eyes, but his voice is low and heavy with some sudden intensity. "If only half the world had half the heart you do," he says softly.

There would be nothing left living, I think, Rakha thinks with her own surge of bitterness. But she doesn't say it aloud, because she recognizes the compliment, even if she doesn't agree with it. What does he see in her, that he keeps saying these things?

And why does he see so little in himself?

For a moment they both stand there, eyes locked; the air feels suddenly charged with electricity. She finds herself wishing, out of nowhere, that she could show him what Gale showed her the other night - the depth of the Weave, the peace of it. The magic he carries is something very different, something darker, tainted by Mizora... but perhaps he could still channel it as she did...

The thought of the magic connecting them, of the intimacy that went with that bond, makes her feel suddenly unstable in a way that she can't define. For a moment she is almost certain one of those wild surges of magic is going to burst through her without warning and set the whole place ablaze.

But she holds his eyes with hers, and though her heart has suddenly started to thump like thunder... her magic calms, and the beast quiets, and she simply breathes, and waits, and hears the water lap gently against the shore by their boots.

He draws back suddenly, a brittle smile flickering onto his lips, and the moment breaks. "But off with you. This is your day! Have a dance. Enjoy the music."

She looks over her shoulder, back towards the party, and she clicks her tongue with a disinterested expression. No. She feels much more comfortable here with him, and perhaps that was why she walked this direction in the first place. "Can't you tell why I really followed you out here?" she says, with a gruff tone unaccountably laced with a sense of indistinct embarrassment.

He blinks, snorts. "Clearly Mol has put you up to stealing my britches so you can turn them into a flag for her gang." A pause, and then he adds, "Not that I'd necessarily object." His lips twitch in a slight, cautious grin.

She laughs softly. It's a sound she's heard so rarely from herself that it startles her - hoarse, low in her throat... but amused. "Nope," she says. "Guess again."

His grin widens. "Let me think. Why are you really here?" He snaps his fingers, coming to a dramatic conclusion. "You must be Volo in disguise, out here to harangue me for some tales of the Frontiers." He leans back on his heels and shakes his head in mock-sorrow. "What a cruel disguise! My nerves started hammering the second I thought *she* was the one looking for me."

It takes her a moment to parse this joke. She, meaning me. Ah... The idea that she would have that effect on him, after everything she's done... it doesn't really make any sense, even as he's articulating it. "Keep trying," she says, and her voice feels suddenly thick, unwieldy.

He hesitates; she sees his cheeks suddenly darken and his eyes flick away from her, the playful air fading abruptly. "It's a long shot," he says softly. "But maybe you've grown fond of me. Gods know I've grown fond of you."

There it is. Spoken out loud - by him, because she had no words for it. Fond. It feels... inadequate, but also correct. At the least, it encompasses something of the sense of safety and guidance he is able to instill in her.

She remembers the hectic, ferocious night with Lae'zel - which was also built on something of the same foundation. But this is not where this is leading, she can already tell. This is something different, something she has no words for.

"Maybe just a little," she mutters.

He smiles. Perhaps he registers something of her uncertainty, because his tone lightens deliberately. "Then we share a similar affliction, for I've grown fond of you too. Though I can't say I've earned the honor. I haven't even managed to kill one measly devil. I'm hardly a prime catch."

(A/N: We have the option for a persuasion check to ask for a kiss here. It's honestly more verbally direct than Rakha feels just yet, I think - an impulsive kiss immediately without the words would feel more likely - and I checked and it's just the one kiss anyway and then he sends you back off to the party regardless. So we're going with the more slow-burn setup here.)

She snorts dismissively. "You don't need to be the 'Blade of Frontiers' for me. Just be yourself." She respects his cause as one of the things on which she can model herself in the battle against the darkness in her head. But she has little interest in judging him for whatever ideals he has stood up for himself. He has done her that credit in return many times over already.

He shakes his head sharply. "The Blade *is* my best self," he insists. "On my best days, I've even lived up to the name."

There is something else he wants to say, she can tell - but he shakes his head again, visibly putting whatever it is aside in favor of a firm, sudden smile. "Now - you've got a party to get back to," he says firmly. "Don't forget - tonight is about you."

He draws closer for a moment, rests a hand carefully against her arm, and his smile softens. "There will be another time for us," he says, his voice low. And then, before she can respond, he turns and walks away down the beach.

[jazlynriddle]

Welcome to your life - Pt 2:

Acting On Your Best Behaviour Ch 22:

Summary:

They'd seen it in their fellow orphans often enough to recognise the pattern and were now forced to admit, despite their hopes to the contrary, that Isidora had likely suffered similar side effects.

No… they'd always known she had. The Keeper had just wanted the power that Ranrok had, enough to convince themselves that they would be able to handle it better than that naive woman.

With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.

Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.

Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).

You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)

Notes:

“Hello, Poppy.” The Keeper greeted as they stepped through the entrance of Brood and Peck, closing the door behind them quickly to prevent a diricawl from escaping the beast materials shop.

Warnings: Canon-typical violence and wow this is a pretty long chapter-

Not sure why, but my chapters have been getting longer and longer, it's getting harder to cut them off at a middling range, oh well, more to read probably isn't bad xD

I do worry that I do too many in-brain musings in this fic, but like, I feel that humans’ minds are always recontextualising memories and perspectives, and I enjoy writing and documenting the changes in perspective that moments in life create in a person's world-view.

So, there's bound to be some repetition since humans change in small increments irl ya'know? The human brain is the most unreliable narrator on earth.

Fears come back constantly, happy moments are muddled and remembered through dark-tinted glasses when a person's mood is low. Victories become objects of shame and self-loathing. Good things become bad, bad things become good, we forget how happy we were three days ago just because today sucks and we'll forget how much today sucked in three days or suddenly remember it in three years.

Human brains barely make sense half the time and that's when we're just trying to understand our own minds, what we want and what can help us feel better, let alone other people, and then the miss-communication happens.

In the end, all we can do is keep trying to make things better and be honest and communicate, even if we don't know what we're doing or if what we're doing will make us happy and can't be sure if what we're seeing is real or objectively interpreted, and I'm hoping that this ideology of mine gets communicated in this story xD

Poppy turned to smile at them as the shopkeeper, Miss Peck, rang her up. “Oh, just give me a minute and we can get going!”

The Keeper nodded, leaning against the wall beside the door, relieved that she seemed to be more lively today and was wearing more practical clothing, though that could easily be attributed to their destination today.

Wherever that might be, all she'd said was ‘in the forest’, which they would guess meant that they were visiting a beast den. The Keeper was pretty sure that she wasn't stupid enough to visit the snidgets while they had a stalker on their tail, but that still left hundreds of possible venues.

“Alright, let's get going!” Poppy beamed as she shoved the bag of beast feed into her pack, before slinging it over her shoulder and running over to open the door.

“And where are we going?” The Keeper asked with a wry smile as they followed her out the door and onto the path to the right.

“Hehe, you'll see!” Poppy giggled, following the path to Hogsmeade Square before taking the left fork to walk along the river.

As the Keeper passed the stairway leading right, towards the square, they spotted Sebastian and Ominis seated outside Steepley and Sons. A pang of longing hit them like a bludgeon, and they sighed wistfully, wanting more than anything to be by their sides instead.

At least the boys were sitting close together, perhaps their quarrel had been resolved? That would be a relief, the subtle tension between the two of them had been awful to deal with over the week. It hadn't been very prevalent, considering how much of their time was spent studying for the upcoming exams, but it was certainly something lingering in the background as the three fought to stay afloat in their studies.

Realising that her companion had stopped following her, Poppy bounced over, took the Keeper by the hand, and tugged them towards the path eagerly. “Come on, it's this way!”

The Keeper blinked, startled out of their thoughts, and allowing her to pull them up the hill. Somewhere between resigned and bemused by her enthusiasm, as Poppy dragged them a little ways out of Hogsmeade, before slowing at a patch of open grass.

“It's a bit of a walk, so… um, you brought Highwing, right?” Poppy asked sheepishly.

“So, that's why you asked me to bring her.” The Keeper snorted, wondering why she hadn't just said so, they'd have asked Deek to pack Sepulchria in their Nab-sack too, then the two of them could have had a more comfortable flight.

Without another thought, the Keeper summoned Highwing from their Nab-sack and Poppy greeted the hippogriff happily. “How've you been, Highwing?”

The proud beast made a gentle sound, nuzzling against the girl's shoulder and she laughed warmly. “I've missed you too!”

The Keeper smiled fondly, giving the friends a moment to enjoy their reunion, before swinging up onto the hippogriff's back and offering Poppy a hand to climb onto her back as well.

As Poppy made herself comfortable, the Keeper asked. “Where to, then?”

“Upper Hogsfield.” Poppy replied, her heart beating rapidly as she wrapped her arms around their waist, pressing her face against their shoulder blades.

With a nod, the Keeper urged Highwing into flight, keenly aware of their tail following on a broom a ways behind them. Well, fucker could try bringing down a hippogriff if he wanted, he'd have a harder time with Highwing than a broomstick.

“Careful, there's a pretty large spider nest nearby.” The Keeper cautioned quietly as they followed Poppy, finding the forested path they were on rather familiar.

“Two actually, but don't worry, we're not going in that direction.” Poppy replied as she dropped down from a stone ledge, landing with a soft grunt. "It's just a little further."

The Keeper nodded and continued following her, travelling deeper into the forest along the path.

As they did, the Keeper began getting an inkling that Poppy was bringing them to the clearing where Bugbrooke had asked them to search for her Unicorn friend Hazel, a pure white mare who had been injured protecting her from wolves. As requested, the Keeper had taken in the injured beast then, and as they followed Poppy over the rocks, they were not surprised to find themselves in the selfsame clearing.

Ahead of them, Poppy smiled, it was as beautiful as she'd remembered, yellow-green fireflies shimmering and reflecting off the shallow pools of water on the floor, surrounded by deer and hares. With the warm afternoon sun streaming through the trees, it was the perfect place to have a pleasant picnic and, if they were lucky, even meet some Unicorns.

Stopping in the middle of the clearing, Poppy spun around to face her companion, eager to see their reaction to the scenic view as they trailed after her. “Well, what do you think?”

“This is what you wanted to show me?” The Keeper asked, their expression not giving anything away as usual. While that was rather expected, it would have been nice if she could read them this time though. Poppy nodded, finding it difficult to breathe through the pounding of her heart.

“I thought we could use a change of venue and have our tea here.” Poppy explained, placing her hands behind her back, and wringing them nervously.

The Keeper opened their mouth to speak when a whinny, pitched high in distress, reached their ears, and they turned to face it, asking. “Did you hear tha-”

Poppy immediately took off in the direction of the sound.

“Wait! It could well be dange-” The Keeper called out, but there was no stopping her, and they sighed, drawing their wand, and chasing after her.

Running past a few trees, they found Poppy crouched beside a bush, speaking softly. “Hey, it's alright, I'm not going to hurt you…”

The Keeper approached cautiously, looking around for any danger. “Pop-”

“Shh.” She shushed them and returned her attention to the bush, holding out a handful of feed. “Here, are you hungry?”

A soft neigh came from the shrubbery, and a moment later, a small gold coated Unicorn foal emerged from behind the bush.

“There we go, it's alright…” Poppy cooed, reaching out to gently stroke the foal's side as the young Unicorn ate hungrily from her hand, frowning in concern. “Where are your parents, little one?”

The Keeper hummed, examining the little Unicorn's golden patterned body, painted with an array of inexplicable patterns, before their eyes widened. This… was a rare and valuable breed of Unicorn, the kind that would wear their golden coat into adulthood. What a stroke of fortune, and this little one's parents were likely of the same bloodline.

“We should see if they're nearby. Revelio.” The Keeper waved their wand as they cast their gaze around, frowning when nothing lit up in their vision.

“Yeah, he's probably scared.” Poppy nodded, standing slowly so as not to spook the foal. “Come on, let's look around.”

The Keeper and Poppy spent the next hour searching the area, the small foal following Poppy at a doddering pace, as a child might, the entire time.

“I guess they aren't nearby…” Poppy sighed, looking discouraged as the two returned to the clearing, the little Unicorn stooping by the water to drink.

“Perhaps they'll return after some time.” The Keeper patted her on the shoulder.

“You're right, I suppose we can have tea until then.” Poppy brightened, looking around before making her way over to the arches of winding wood with flowers adorning each twisting vine and lowering the pack from her shoulder.

The Keeper blinked in confusion, wasn't that where she put the beast fee-

Poppy produced a large, folded mat from the pack, followed by sandwiches wrapped in cloth, a jar of water and a pair of teacups that didn’t even have coverings.

“You put our food with the feed…” The Keeper trailed off at Poppy's confused expression.

“Yes?” She nodded, seemingly not seeing anything wrong with that statement and continuing to lay out their picnic spread.

The Keeper stared at her for a moment, before smiling wryly. Well, it was a Poppy thing to do. The Unicorn foal trotted over to her side, perhaps thinking that he would be getting some food too and the Keeper sighed, about to follow, when a shrill girlish scream came from behind them.

Drawing their wand immediately, the Keeper was promptly struck with confusion when a familiar figure came running up the path towards them, and they soon recognised Macnair's ugly mug. They didn't focus on him for very long however, because behind the motherfucker, was a horde of spiders.

The Keeper cursed, the stupid boy must have disturbed the large nearby nest, they glanced back towards Poppy and the foal. They wouldn't be able to get away with the foal fast enough, so they and Poppy would have to stand their ground here.

“Protect the little guy!” The Keeper shouted at Poppy as the swarm of spiders closed in on the clearing, scuttling over roots and rocks with incredible speed.

“Got it!” Poppy replied, readying her wand as well and standing protectively in front of the trembling foal.

The Keeper nodded, scanning the clearing quickly as the fauna scattered to hide, they would have to utilise some strategy to win this one. They wished they could take a hit, but they neither had the time, nor the privacy to do so. They just had to hope that their stamina would hold out.

Taking a deep breath, they dug into the well of their Ancient magic, stabbing their wand into the earth and channelling that magic through the soil. A moment later, a short wall of earth formed to their left and one to their right. Poppy should likely be able to handle any spiders that got past the bottleneck, at least the twisted wood arches would make it easier for her to defend the Unicorn.

Like hell they were going to lose such a rare specimen.

Sprinting into the clearing, Macnair tried to run past them, through the opening between the walls, before releasing a yelp as the Keeper kicked a leg at him, slamming the front of their shoe into his knee and sending him flat on his face in a puddle of water.

Glaring at them from the floor, the boy stumbled to his feet, pulled out his broomstick, mounted it, and flew upwards quickly through the opening in the trees.

They would've loved to punish the stupid boy further, but they had bigger problems right now and they couldn't afford to waste magical energy on him.

As the first large hairy arachnid crossed the treeline, and the last hare disappeared behind tree roots, the Keeper flung a Bombarda at the wave of spiders, throwing three backwards with a large explosion.

A screech of anger and pain rose from the mass of spiders as they rolled into the clearing like a wave crashing upon the beach. Gritting their teeth, the Keeper shielded themselves with a Protego, breaking the tide like a rock, the cascade splitting into two streams around them and slamming into the walls they'd created.

With that, the battle began.

The spiders were relentless, slashing at the Keeper with their tarsal claws and snapping at them with pincers dripping with poison. They'd had a lot of experience fighting spiders, but not in quantities like this and only alongside Sebastian, who was the sole student in Hogwarts who came even remotely close to the Keeper's prowess in combat. Macnair must have caught the attention of both of the large spider nests nearby, fucking lovely.

The worst part was that they couldn't roll very far from their position, lest they allow more than one or two spiders past them at a time, which meant that they were forced to use Protego continuously and to a strenuous degree. With every Diffindo and every area blast of Incendio, they could feel their magic reserves draining, cursing as they paused to hit a spider with a Confringo, knocking it off the left wall as it attempted to climb over.

Eventually, they reached a point where they couldn't afford to keep using Protego and were forced to resort to physical combat. Drawing the dagger that they kept strapped to their upper arm under their robes, the Keeper transferred their wand to their non-dominant hand, blasting a Bombarda at a spider with one hand as they embedded their dagger deep into another spider's head with the other.

Behind them, the Keeper could hear Poppy casting at the few spiders that made it past their blockade as they kicked a spider away from the gap between the walls and stabbed their dagger into another large spider's carapace.

“Shit-” The Keeper cursed as they attempted to withdraw the blade and encountered resistance. Taking advantage of the opening, a spider jumped at them, slashing its claws down their side, ripping through their robes and digging deep into their flesh, its sharp clawtips scraping against their ribcage.

With a yowl of pain, the Keeper used the ensuing adrenaline spike to wrench their dagger free and jammed it in-between the spider's eyes, right as another spider latched onto their non-dominant arm with a sharp burst of heat.

Struggling to hold onto their wand, the Keeper cast an area Incendio, feeling the flames from their spell lick dangerously close to their skin, forced to cast it slightly closer to themselves than they normally would, to drive the spiders back and give themselves some space.

Using their Ancient magic on the spider still attached to their arm, they shrank down the large insolent creature to the size of a regular spider. It then dropped to the floor where the Keeper ground their heel into the dirt, crushing the spider under their shoe.

Casting a Transfiguration spell on another spider, the great hairy creature turned into an oil barrel, and they swung their wand in an arc, flinging it at the last cluster of spiders with their Ancient magic, where it exploded on impact.

The Keeper bit back another curse as their body screamed in protest, the gash in their side stretching wide open with the gesture and soaking their robes even further, but as heat from the explosion rolled through the clearing, the last of the spiders shrieked as they died.

Breathing heavily, the Keeper held a hand against their bleeding side as they cast their eyes over the clearing, the grassy floor, and pools of water near covered in charred spider corpses. Finally…

Heaving a sigh of relief, they turned towards the arches, the large pile of spider corpses piled in front of it inciting a fond huff from them. Poppy was a force to be reckoned with when there were beasts to protect. She wasn't nearly as skilled as Sebastian, but to an extent, one could attribute some of that inferiority to her spell choice.

About to call out to her, the Keeper stiffened when the ground on the other side of the arches erupted in a spray of soil, right behind the foal. A large spider shot from the cloud of dirt, flinging itself at the foal with its legs raised in attack and the Unicorn let out a loud whinny of fear, catching Poppy's attention.

Without hesitation, she dove in front of the foal, wrapping her arms around it protectively and the spider's sharp tarsal claws slashed down along her back, ripping through the cloth over her shoulder blades. The Keeper felt a jolt of déjà vu, the image of a woman shielding a terrified child from them flashed over their mind's eye, before they were called back into the moment by Poppy's cry of pain.

The Keeper's teeth clenched, at this distance, they might hit her if they used a Diffindo or Confringo. Remembering Sebastian's clever use of Imperio on the goblin that was about to kill Anne, they made a quick decision and cast the unforgivable as the spider raised its pincers again, this time to bite Poppy.

Fortunately, their spell hit their mark and the spider immediately stopped moving. The Keeper sighed in relief, instructing the spider to crawl over to them, slashing its legs off with Diffindo as it approached. Before they placed their wand between its many eyes and fired off a direct Bombarda, causing the back of the spider's head to explode and spray its blood across the floor.

Limping past the mess, the Keeper made their way forward between the walls, waving their wand and pressing the earth back down, returning the clearing's terrain to its original state.

Withdrawing a wiggenweld from their satchel as they approached the arches, they called out breathlessly. “Are you alright, Poppy?”

“Uck- Y- yeah.” Poppy gasped, gripping her shoulder in pain as the patch of red gradually spread over the back of her shirt. Lifting her eyes towards them from her spot kneeling beside the foal, Poppy flashed a wry smile. “See someone's not afraid of the Dark Arts.”

“Got a problem with that?” The Keeper chuckled, wincing as the movement sent stabs of pain through their side.

“Not really.” Poppy shook her head as their hobbling gait finally brought them to her side. “I'm pretty fond of being alive.”

“Here.” The Keeper snorted, offering the potion to her with a grin, which she accepted gratefully, before they gingerly lowered themselves to sit on the picnic mat with a tired sigh, leaning back against the wooden arches. Taking out another wiggenweld for themselves, they popped off the stopper and knocked back the potion quickly, a wave of exhaustion rolling over them.

Sighing in relief as she lowered her empty vial, Poppy grimaced as the skin of her back knitted together under her shirt, glancing over at the Keeper, whose robes were much more bloody than hers, and near drenched in sweat from their battle. After giving the foal a look over and a gentle brush against its coat, she crawled over to their side.

“And you? You look worse off than I.” Poppy asked in concern, brushing a thumb over a cut along their forehead that they hadn't even noticed, the soft touch felt so familiar, a trace of warmth from a moment of kindness.

The Keeper huffed a light laugh. “You're such a mom.”

“A- a mom?” Poppy echoed with a bewildered expression.

“Ah, sorry, you just reminded me of a mother I met once.” The Keeper shook their head, a little surprised that they'd spoken aloud. They must be more tired than they'd thought.

“...you're an orphan, right?” Poppy asked hesitantly.

“Yes, but it wasn’t a prospective parent looking for kids to adopt.” The Keeper shook their head, guessing her thoughts.

“No?” Poppy blinked curiously and the Keeper mentally shrugged, well, there wasn't any reason not to answer.

“A dumb kid threw a rock at me when I was around ten. Little bugger hit me right in the head too.” The Keeper began, tipping their head back to rest against the wood as the wiggenweld began stitching their wounds, resisting the urge to scratch at the spreading itch.

Does that hurt? Gonna go cry to mommy? Oh right, you don't have one! Hahaha!

“I picked it up and decided I'd give him a taste of his own medicine.” They chuckled, remembering how terrified the boy had looked as they shot towards him with the intent of slicing his throat open with the sharp edge of his own weapon. “His mother jumped in to take the hit. Thought she'd be angry at me, but she turned right around and scolded him instead.”

Jonathan Andrew Lewis, what have I told you about hurting others!? Apologise right now!

“She treated my injuries and answered some questions.” The Keeper smiled, remembering how confused they'd been, asking plainly why she had scolded her own son if she cared about him enough to shield him.

Well, I do love my boy, but it's because I love him that I can't let him behave like this. If he keeps starting fights for no good reason, it'll be him that suffers in the end. When you love someone, you want what's best for them, you don't want them to hurt, even if that means you have to fight with them sometimes.

“That was the first time I heard about love. I thought it was a parent thing back then, but I've recently realised it isn't just something that exists between family members.” The Keeper shrugged as they closed their eyes, thus missing the way Poppy's eyes widened and her cheeks flushed.

They'd probably seen it without realising it at the time, in Sebastian and Ominis, watching the two fight so hard to protect each other in their own way, not because they wanted to hurt each other but because each boy wanted what was best for the other. Because they didn't want each other to hurt.

We've always looked out for each other - Ominis and I. I hope he knows that hasn't changed.

Perhaps that had been the moment that the Keeper really began wanting it, wanting them, wanting to be a part of what Sebastian and Ominis had. Wanting both of them to be happy and to ease their sufferings. Another pang of longing hit them, ah, they just wanted to curl up with the two boys again, to hold the two in their arms, feel their warmth, enveloped in the faint mingling scents of parchment and mint.

They could practically feel it, that contentment and warmth, almost dizzying in its comfort…

“H- hey, are you alright?” Poppy's voice was oddly muffled, as though they were hearing her speak from underwater.

The Keeper felt a cool touch on their forehead and then Poppy's muffled voice became more alarmed. “...you… bitten!?”

There was the rustling sound of Poppy moving about, before the Keeper felt her shaking them by their shoulders, clearing some of the haze that was descending upon their mind. “...with me… where's your… Highwing?”

The Keeper grimaced, fighting to think through the fog that was filling their brain. Highwing… They reached into their satchel, fingers fumbling for their Nab-sack, and their vision blurred as they passed it to Poppy, forcing their body to cooperate enough to speak. “Bring the- Unicorn… dangerous… alone here.”

“I will, just hang in there!” Poppy's words came out in a rush as she frantically summoned Highwing, soothing the Unicorn foal, and securing him in the Nab-sack, before tucking it into her pack temporarily.

“Gently please…” Poppy instructed Highwing as she settled on the hippogriff's back, directing the beast to pick up the Keeper by their arms with its large and strong claws. “Alright, up, Highwing, we must bring them to Nurse Blainey quickly!”

The Keeper felt their stomach turn as the wind kicked up about them and the earth fell away from under their feet. Their last thought as they succumbed to the fog of unconsciousness, was a faint hope that their partners wouldn't be too upset with them for giving them yet another heart attack.

“Will they be alright?” Poppy asked worriedly as the nurse slowly fed the unconscious Keeper a green-tinged fluid with a long glass dropper.

“Yes, don't worry, they'll be just fine.” Nurse Blainey reassured as she placed the empty dropper down on her tray, before slowly lowering the Keeper's head back onto the cot's pillow. “It seems like they got a rather large dose of arachnid poison, so I'll be giving them the antidote every hour till their condition improves.”

“O- okay.” Poppy brushed a few strands of the Keeper’s hair from their face as the nurse adjusted their blanket. “I guess that means they'll be staying the night?”

“Yes, I imagine they should be ready to be discharged tomorrow after noon.” Blainey smiled as she gathered up her tray. “They'll probably sleep till tomorrow, so you can come back again then.”

“...alright.” Poppy nodded slowly as the nurse returned to her office.

Poppy sighed, feeling uncertain about the day's events and what they might mean, the desire to speak with Natty warring with her worry for the Keeper. She hesitated for a few moments, but ultimately decided that there was little she could do here. The Keeper would be safe here under Blainey's watch and she really wanted to talk with Natty.

Standing and setting the Nab-sack down beside their bed, Poppy gave the Keeper one last glance, before leaving the infirmary to search for Natty.

Nurse Blainey looked up from her papers when the small clock on her desk chimed on the hour. Setting down her quill, the nurse left her office to retrieve a tray and prepare the necessary items she'd need to administer another dose of antidote for the Keeper.

When she was ready, she approached the Keeper's bedside and began her routine checks before casting Anapneo on them to make sure their airway was clear, then tilting their head back to prevent choking and inserting the dropper.

Blainey spent the next several minutes slowly feeding them, waiting a few moments more for the Keeper to swallow naturally, before lowering their head back onto the pillow and tucking them back in. As she did so, she heard a faint murmur from her patient.

“...Omi...nis..."

The nurse blinked, finding the word familiar, wasn't that the name of one of the Slytherin boys? That's right, come to think of it, she was rather surprised that the two boys hadn't been with them. Those two had been practically glued to their bedside the last time the Keeper had been warded in her infirmary.

Normally she wouldn't pry in the business of the students, but Blainey was fairly certain that those boys would be here if they knew that their friend had been injured again. Perhaps she should send Mr. Gaunt an owl...

The sound of hurried footsteps echoed up and down the stairwell as Ominis and Sebastian hastened to the infirmary.

As they ran down the hallway, Ominis clutched Sebastian's hand tightly, struggling to keep his fear at bay. Nurse Blainey's letter had said that the Keeper wasn't in any danger, but his blasted mind was still dredging up the stench of rust and iron that had permeated the air the last time the Keeper had been warded.

He’d witnessed Selwyn trying to poison their tea at Steepley and Sons when Sebastian went to use the loo. Idiot probably hadn't realised that Ominis was only blind, not deaf, and he'd tossed the spiked tea before Sebastian could test it on anyone. Macnair must have tried something with the Keeper too.

While he was somewhat mollified by Sebastian staying by his side, Ominis was still upset about the Keeper saying that they would protect Poppy at their own expense because she was only in danger on their account. His lover was not the self-sacrificial kind, they were calculative, and he'd thought that their protective nature extended only to him and Sebastian.

It had surprised him how bitter that revelation had made him, how much he now resented Poppy for having acquired such status. Had he enjoyed it so much? Being special to both the Keeper and Sebastian, being the exception to two individuals with high standards for preferential treatment.

He'd always thought he wanted to be treated like a normal person, like everyone else. Well, not in this context apparently.

Ominis glanced around the infirmary with his wand sight, quickly locating the nurse walking through the room.

“Nurse Blainey, are they alright?” Ominis asked breathlessly, feeling Sebastian release his hand and move past him towards one of the cots, presumably where the Keeper was lying.

“Yes, they're quite alright, I was just about to give them another dose of antidote.” The nurse replied kindly as she made her way to the Keeper's cot where Sebastian was gently wiping the perspiration from their forehead with a handkerchief.

“Do you know what happened?” Ominis asked, standing by the bedside with Sebastian and taking the Keeper's hand in his as the nurse prepared her tray of implements.

“I believe that they and Miss Sweeting were attacked by spiders, both sustained lacerations, but your friend here was also bitten and suffered a rather large dose of arachnid poison. As such, I'll be administering an antidote every hour until their symptoms alleviate.” The nurse explained, as she filled a long dropper with the aforementioned antidote.

Ominis’ jaw clenched as the Keeper's hand burned with a feverish heat against his palm and felt that bitterness return, an ugly feeling coiling in his chest. They were like this for someone else. He wanted to erase that fact with his own hand.

“Nurse Blainey, could I- that is, would you allow me to do that?” Ominis asked haltingly, as the nurse looked up, pausing in her task of feeding the Keeper.

“Administering the antidote?” Blainey asked with some confusion.

He gave a curt nod in return. “I am hoping to become a Healer when I graduate.”

The nurse gave an understanding hum. “A rather unorthodox request but I suppose there's no harm in it, you'll have to follow my instructions, however. Wouldn't want your friend to choke on it, now would we.”

Ominis flashed a wry smile as the nurse placed the dropper in his hands.

“First, we must ensure that the patient's head is tilted backwards slightly to prevent choking.” The nurse placed Ominis hand against the back of the Keeper's neck to feel the angle she had positioned them in.

It was incredibly strange to be holding the Keeper while they were unconscious, their normally tense neck muscles limp and loose against his fingers as he moved his hand into position to support their head, in place of Blainey. There was something almost thrilling about holding them in such a state, their bared neck exposed and vulnerable. Shaking off the odd feeling, Ominis forced himself to focus.

“Next, is to open their mouth by placing your thumb on their chin and pressing down.” The nurse watched in supervision, as Ominis gently opened the Keeper's mouth with his other hand. “Very good, now place the dropper's tip against the wall of their mouth, between the cheek and gums.”

Ominis nodded, lightly tapping the glass tip along the Keeper's teeth to get a feel of where the target space was, and gently rested its tip against the soft inner wall of their cheek.

The nurse nodded with an impressed hum at the accuracy of his placement in spite of his visual impairment. “Excellent, now, you'll need to squeeze the dropper's bulb very slowly and steadily. You want the potion to trickle out in small, controlled amounts, so that the unconscious patient will naturally and automatically swallow it like they would with their saliva.”

Ominis nodded, his eyes narrowed in focus as he followed her instructions. “Could I ask how you determine what ailments a patient is afflicted with?”

“The most common method is the spell Diagnosa, it's a basic Healer spell that draws from your own understanding of the human body to identify symptoms to diagnose a patient. Though, that would only be useful if you already know how to match symptoms to a diagnosis, so it's not included in general education.” Blainey explained, a speculative expression on her face.

“That sounds incredibly useful. Might I ask if you could teach me?” Ominis asked, feeling the resistance of the squeeze bulb ease a moment later and gently slid the glass out from between the Keeper's lips, his fingers brushing over the curve of their mouth.

As he did so, Ominis was struck by a most unexpected impulse to claim those still lips, to feel an unnatural softness that he'd never experienced before, since the Keeper was not exactly a passive kisser and was a very light sleeper. There was a strange tingle under his skin at the thought of experiencing a sensation that no one else ever had.

“It's rare for students to express such clear interest in a particular career and I can see that you have a very steady hand.” Blainey mused.

Ominis almost jumped at the reminder of where he was, his cheeks flushing at being caught in the middle of such unusual thoughts. Fortunately, she seemed to take it as a reaction to her compliment and he offered the nurse the empty dropper, before lowering the Keeper's head back onto the pillow.

“If you'd like, I would be willing to take you on as an apprentice.” Blainey smiled as she set the dropper on her tray.

“I- really? Yes please, I would like that very much.” Ominis nodded with a surprised smile.

“I'll speak with Professor Weasley about this and if you'd like, I can teach you Diagnosa and some basics until curfew.” The nurse gave a bemused huff. “Since the two of you will be staying till then I imagine.”

Ominis flashed a chagrined smile, glad that she didn't seem to hold animosity for his bluntness during the Keeper's first stay a few months ago. He imagined that was something he'd have to get used to as well when he was a Healer, people would be more brusque when upset or in distress like he had been then.

However, while he did rather want to start learning, to have something to focus on, a part of him was reluctant to leave the Keeper's side.

Seemingly sensing his hesitation, Sebastian placed a hand on his arm gently, reminding Ominis of his presence. “Go ahead, I'll let you know if they wake up.”

Ominis relaxed, it never ceased to warm his heart when Sebastian displayed that rare sensitivity that the earnest boy seemed to reserve just for him. Staying by his side all day, supporting him now, Ominis could probably fall in love with him a million times and it would still feel like the first time. If not for Sebastian's inspiring confidence and kindness by his side, or the Keeper easing his fears and uncertainties, Ominis was certain that he wouldn't have the courage to do anything.

Placing his hand over Sebastian's in gratitude, Ominis nodded and followed nurse Blainey towards her office.

Sitting down at a bedside chair, Sebastian sighed wistfully, rubbing at the crescents shaped imprints that Ominis had left on his hand.

It never ceased to impress him, how clear Ominis’ path always seemed to be. His best friend hadn't shown the slightest hint of self-doubt when trying to stop Sebastian from pursuing the relic or when leaving his home and cutting ties with the Gaunts, nor did Ominis ever seem to have any question of what he wanted to do and be.

Ominis had declared, after confiding in Sebastian about his parents forcing the cruciatus on him, that he would become a Healer. That he would spend his life curing and saving the very people whom his parents deemed worthy of derision, purely for their blood purity or lack thereof. Since then, he'd been working towards that goal, slowly but steadily.

In contrast, Sebastian had spent two years searching for a way to cure Anne, failing constantly and when he thought he'd finally found the right path, it too had failed abysmally. Would that he could bear Ominis’ conviction in his own actions without becoming a fool at the same time.

He'd thought Ominis too cautious and afraid, but it had been Sebastian who had been too desperate and afraid, throwing himself into his search to escape the fear. Now, he was feeling desperate again but this time he was trying to cure himself. To cure himself of the doubt that Anne's actions had unearthed from under his stubbornness, but he didn't know what would do that.

He didn't know if anything could do that and that was scarier than being told that he wasn't good enough to save Anne.

Notes:

Did I just give Ominis some mild somnophilia? ...yes. It seems like I did. I don't know, it just came out while I was writing- x'D I'm not even sure why, do you think it's enough that I need to add a somnophilia tag? Please let me know if you do =D

Also, I hope you guys like Diagnosa, because I'm gonna use this spell I made up decently often. It's more like my usual type of world building than JK's, I just can't create something without any realistic logic in it-

I headcanon Sebastian smells kinda woody and paper-like cos the dude's always reading and Ominis just feels like a mint kinda guy for some reason, like a very clean refreshing kind of smell.

Also the Keeper really needs more defence points, kid's a glass canon.  Sebastian tank pls xP Imo, Sebastian's use of Imperio to save Anne was a smart decision, every other offensive spell (Diffindo or Confringo) would be dangerous if he missed and hit Anne. If he accidentally hit Anne with Imperio, he could just force her to get out of the way despite her pain, saving her anyway.

Plus, the kid was angry so it's understandable for him to make the goblin gut itself. I mean, imagine your sister got raped and impregnated and there are no abortion clinics so she has to drop out of school and she might die during the birth because she's 14 a year old kid with a frail body and the guy who raped her is about to stab her with a knife.

If you could, you’d probably take his knife and gut him too.

At this stage, Sebastian doesn't yet see the difference between goblins, thanks to social engineering racism. To him this goblin is the same as the one who cursed Anne. (Even though we know now that it was actually Rookwood.)

Sure, he probably shouldn't have had the goblin kill himself in front of her, but the kid was angry and when giving a mental instruction, I imagine it's less defined and clear cut than verbal commands. He could have just been visualising it because he was angry and didn't have the presence of mind to give it a specific order.

Also, the random mom in the Keeper's history is why they have such a healthy idea of what love is, despite being an orphan from a shit orphanage with shittier caregivers. We actually see the Keeper reflect her actions when they blocked a Bombarda for Sebastian during chapter 16 xD

I can't understand the people who say Sebastian was just using Ominis and didn't care about him. Like did they not hear Sebastian? "I didn't want to worry him all over again." And my favourite line, looking out for each other, he only lied and kept secrets because he cares about Ominis, I just don't understand these people.

Also, man, the Keeper was exactly the same kid five years ago huh? “Oh, you threw a rock at me? Prepare to die motherfucker.” xP

Minor sidenote, I added more descriptions for part 1 chapter 3 and added a paragraph to Sebastian's inner monologue in part 1 chapter 11 (when he's approaching the Ndiaye twins) these adjustments don't change the plot at all but just gonna mention it because they're not just one or two rewordings. In case anyone cares enough to get mad at me for changing something like that unannounced xD

Geez my notes are definitely getting longer along with the chapters-

[upon-a-starry-night]

A Perfect Christmas Pt6

Pairing: WandaNat x Reader

Summary: You're used to doing Christmas activities alone- but there's a certain couple who plan on changing that this year, and maybe you'll all get the Christmas gift you're really hoping for!

Pt5

You sighed tiredly as you entered the elevator, you really hoped Wanda and Nat were already done with whatever you were doing, you really didn’t feel like talking to anybody. Especially them right now.

Unfortunately, luck was not on your side because as soon as the elevator doors opened you saw them in the kitchen talking and decorating cookies. Neither of them seemed particularly happy but maybe you’d caught them when they were discussing something important.

You tried to sneak past them as best as you could but it was no use trying to sneak past The Black Widow.

“Y/n?” You looked up and gave them a pained smile, trying to focus on not crying.

Both of them looked over to the clock and then back over to you, Natasha immediately understood what happened. Wanda approached you and placed her hands on your cheeks, pulling your gaze down to hers

“What happened моя любовь?” Her eyes searched yours for the answer but all she found was sadness and unshed tears. She already knew she and Nat would find whoever did this to you and eliminate them.

“I got stood up” You croaked out. you contemplated coming up with an excuse but you knew they’d both see through it immediately.

“Oh дорогой, I’m sorry” She hated that you were hurt but she couldn't help the small bit of hope that she felt.

The two of them had begun losing hope the more they thought about the fact that you were out being treated to dinner by someone other than them.

Instead, you were probably standing outside of a restaurant by yourself, searching for her unworthy face in the crowd- or even worse, you were already seated at the table and the waiter kept coming over to ask you if you wanted more water. The thought made Wanda’s heart burn with anger, she felt her powers begin to react but she forced herself to calm down so she could be there for you.

Wanda hugged her arms tightly around your torso, Nat walked from behind the kitchen island and joined the two of you, you let your head rest on her shoulder. Despite your disheartening situation, this was by far the best hug you’d ever had in your life. If there was one good thing that came out of you being stood up it was this.

No matter what you could always count on them, you guessed it was probably one of the reasons why you loved them.

You immediately tensed, hoping Wanda didn’t hear that thought.

After a few minutes, you reluctantly pulled away from the hug, it was by far one of the hardest things you’d ever done in your life.

Warm hands rubbed soothingly up and down your arms, despite the immense comfort it brought you your heart still raced at the contact. Gods the things these women could do to you.

The things you wished they would do.

You shivered a bit, after standing out in the cold for so long your legs had started to get cold, and while you brought a sweater you weren’t really expecting to be outside for long and New York weather is unpredictable.

You sighed dejectedly at the memory of waiting so eagerly for your date to arrive

“I just- she was so nice” The pair scowled at the mention of the woman who Natasha already planned on getting the address of. There was theft and other crimes they stopped and then there was hurting you, and hurting you was on another level “I was so excited to be…apart of something you know?” You looked at them like a kicked puppy and both of their hearts broke, you were one of the sweetest people they’d ever met. “Maybe I’m just destined for loneliness” For someone so insignificant as that woman to make you feel undesirable was unacceptable. You were incredibly desirable and both women were witnesses to that firsthand.

The sound of your watery laugh filled their ears “I mean who would want me?” Both of their heads snapped up at your words. How could you think that? You. The person who’s been on their minds for so long. The person with the brightest smile and the warmest heart.

How could anyone not want you?

How could they not want you?

“Y/n.” You looked up at Nat’s soft yet firm voice “You are one of the most stunning women I’ve ever met, never let anyone make you think differently.” Your heart skipped a beat, had The Natasha Romanoff just called you stunning? Has she seen herself?

“Дорогой you deserve so much more than someone like that” You smiled shyly at Wanda’s words “See there’s that beautiful smile”

Wanda noticed the goosebumps forming on your arms, whether it was from the cold or something else she couldn’t really tell.

“Why don’t you go change into some pj’s and then come decorate some cookies with us if you’re feeling up to it hmm?”

God that sounded like absolute heaven right now, You didn’t trust your brain to speak after those compliments so you just nodded and headed to your room. Now your heart and mind were more confused than ever.

–

The entire time you were decorating you felt like Wanda and Nat were touching you a lot more than usual. It was probably just because they were comforting you right? Still, the way Nat came up behind you to grab something over your shoulder and brushed her front against your back, or the way Wanda kept placing her hands on your waist when she needed to get by you- their little touches made you melt and yearn for them even more.

You imagined if it was like this all the time, them giving you a kiss on the cheek in the mornings as you all sleepily moved about the kitchen, or waking up to the sight of them every day, the sun's rays falling perfectly onto their delicate sleeping faces.

Now you all found yourselves cuddled up on the couch watching Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer, You’d settled comfortably in between them without argument this time, you were too tired to fight and something told you they needed it as much as you did. You tried to keep yourself awake as best as you could but the warm blanket and cozy environment made your body start going into shutdown mode.

Being around people that made you feel safe meant you were drifting off faster than you intended.

You fought hard to keep your eyes open but somewhere between The Isle of Misfit Toys and The search for Rudolph you fell asleep.

Your head dropped softly onto Wanda’s shoulder and Nat frowned, she wished you’d fallen asleep on her shoulder.

Wanda smiled and wrapped her arm around you, pulling your blanket up slightly from where it had fallen off. Nat’s frown was quickly wiped off of her face at the sight of you two. Her two favorite people all cuddled up together. She was totally going to tease Wanda about the blush that was spreading across her face later, but for now, she just scooted herself closer to the two of you and wrapped her arms around the both of you.

She didn’t have to be a mind reader like her girlfriend to know they were both thinking the same thing; I wish it could be like this all the time.

(моя люб��вь-My love)

(дорогой- Darling)

Do you guys say Natasha Romanoff or Romanov because I keep seeing both but I don’t know which is more accurate?

Pt7

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@lenam07​