#there are so many tiny moments that randomly make me laugh every time I remember them

[hadeswearsprada]

Moments in Star Trek I find very funny for some reason

[siriuslyshewrote]

Beautiful Boy - James Potter

A/N: aptly titled because yes, we all believe that James Potter is the most beautiful boy.

Requested? : yes 

Word Count : 1.3k

Summary : James Potter fluff. What else could we possibly want?

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was something that could never be described as dull. Every moment spent in it was a blur of heightened emotions, whether they be good and bad, and there was never a day that went by without chaos. In comparison, your summers were positively dull.

As much as you loved the castle, you loved the people even more, your housemates and classmates, in particularly the close circle of friends you had woven together over your seven years in Hogwarts. Lily , Mary and Marlene took precedent as your closest girl friends, the ones with which every night in the dormitories was a sleepover, toasting your feet agains the little log burner, listening to the latest muggle records, and laughing your heads off. Sirius and Remus and Peter were brilliant boys, and you loved them deeply, too. James always said you loved too deeply.

It was he that you loved the most, that messy haired bespectacled boy with the crooked , previously broken nose and lopsided grin. With his warm hands and suffocating hugs and intoxicating presence. James knew you more than anyone, and had been a constant in your life since the two of you were tiny children, growing up living on the same street. He above anyone knew each one of your deepest and darkest secrets, your most mortifying memories, and embarrassing crushes. All but one, of course.

The crackling embers of the fire, and the quiet, exhausted chatter of the group around you soothed you, as you finally gave up on your Transfiguration essay, and dropped both it and your quill onto one of the many rugs that littered the floor of the common room. Music, from someone or others record player, played Bowie in the background.

"Tired?"

James grinned from beside you, his head lolling on the back of the sofa. He, too, had given up on his essay, by this time. You had no idea how he wasn't asleep already - he got up at the crack of dawn every single morning to play Quidditch, and still had the exuberant energy of a golden retriever.

You nodded , barely suppressing a yawn as you stretched out on the sofa the both of you were sharing, laying your head into his lap, wearily watching the animated conversation between Marlene and Sirius about something or other. Knowing Sirius and Marlene, she was trying to point out the flaws in another one of his crazily thought out schemes. Remus, too, was watching the pair with a secret smile upon his face - his eyes straying more to Sirius than anyone else, over the top of his book.

Mary was already asleep, curled up in a velvet armchair like a cat, her limbs tucked underneath her as she snored gently.

Your eyelashes drooped, brushing against your cheek, as your eyes closed against your protest. N.E.W.T's, you had very quickly discovered during your first few week back at school for seventh year, were living up to their name this year. They truly were exhausting.

Fingers combed through your hair, with a gentle clumsiness that you would recognise even if your head was currently not in his lap.

"What're you doing?" You mumbled sleepily, too tired to open your eyes, poking at his knee with your finger.

"Stop fussing. I'm just braiding your hair." He whispered, continuing with his mission.

You hoped that he was too concerned with your hair to see the smile that tugged on your lips at his words. James often devised these projects, randomly wanting to learn to do things until he achieved his goal. You had become his subject over the past few weeks as he attempted to learn how to braid, and had, several times walked back into the dormitory to the girls cackles at your newest hairstyle. James had the energy and will to do anything he wanted ... though perhaps styling hair was not his vocation. Really, Lily had told you, you only needed to look at his own hair to see that.

You didn't mind his newest project, and as you let him braid your hair by the fireplace, you desperately tried to pretend that it wasn't because him being so close made your heart beat a fierce drum against your ribs.

After a few minutes of quiet between the two of you, there was a lull in the conversation that you noticed even with your eyes closed in half sleep.

"Merlin, Prongs, could you be any more obvious?" Sirius' voice came from near the fire, a grin in his tone.

James fingers continued their work in your hair as he talked back to his friend.

"What?"

"That you are completely enamoured with our deer Y/N?" Even without looking at him, you could tell that Sirius was very pleased with his very much overused pun.

James tensed. Your breathing quickened slightly, though you didn't open your eyes.

Secretly, you wanted to hear what he would say.

"Piss off, Pads." He mumbled.

"It is quite obvious." Lily added in.

"Just a bit." Remus bit back the grin in his voice at his friends obvious discomfort.

"For fucks sake, guys!" James hissed quietly, clearly under the impression that you were asleep. "We are not dating."

"If you grew some balls, you would be." Sirius spoke, with murmurs of agreement from the others, apart from Mary, who you could still hear snoring.

James was quiet, for a moment.

"You'll have to tell her at some point, before someone else does." Lily spoke wisely. "Her and Amos are getting rather close, don't you think?"

James let out a scoff that was both a little defensive and a little bit worried.

"Y/N would never date that Hufflepuff."

"So you do admit that you like her?" Lily said triumphantly.

"Love her, more like." Sirius chipped in.

James' fingers were weaving once again in your hair, though perhaps a little bit less gentle than before.

"Just leave it." His tone indicated that he no longer wanted to discuss it, and the rest of the Gryffindor's clearly picked upon the tense tone he had adopted, because the conversation shifted quickly after that.

Though you desperately wanted to mull over what had just been said, you felt the pull of sleep drag you into unconsciousness. ————— "Love."

A gentle voice awoke you, with a slight shake of your shoulders. Blearily, you blinked, opening your eyes to the Common Room, which was much lighter than it had been when you closed your eyes. The fire had died in the fireplace, leaving only a few embers behind.

"Mmm?" You replied, rubbing sleep out of your eyes. You realised that you were still lying in James' lap, and a small flush crept up your cheeks.

"I've got to go to Quidditch practice. We’ve got the match this morning.” He said quietly, giving you a sorry look.

"Have you slept down here all night?" You questioned, sitting up and stretching, feeling your bones pop and crack after your slightly uncomfortable sleeping position.

He shrugged, standing up with a stretch, his jumper pulling up and exposing a sliver of his tanned stomach. He ruffled his hair, trying to rid his bed head.

"You were asleep. I couldn't wake you, you'd probably kill me." A ghost of a grin flickered onto his face.

"Sorry." You yawned, holding out a hand for him to pull your off the sofa. He obliged.

"I've really gotta go." He said regretfully, brushing his lips against your forehead in a typical James gesture.

"Love you, Prongsie." You spoke sleepily, making to go up the stairs of your dorm to get a few hours more sleep.

"Yeah... Love you too." His speech sounded almost painful to him, but you were too tired to register it.

In fact, you were too tired to even remember the conversation you had heard the previous night until you reached the top of the stairs, and by that time, James was gone.

[rebeccccccaaa]

𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚖𝚞𝚜𝚝 𝚕𝚘𝚟𝚎 𝚖𝚎

__________________________

𝙱𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚢 𝙱𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚎𝚜 𝚡 𝚁𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

(𝚛𝚎𝚚𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚍) tieddown-withbattleshipchains said:

Hey Dear ❤️ May I ask for a Bucky Barnes imagine where he is your ex-boyfriend but you meet again sometime randomly in New York. So you end up spending the evening together and just talk about everything. Later he walks you home but you ask him to join you, which leads to a night full of love making. In the morning he makes breakfast in bed for you and asks you for a second chance? 😊 Maybe his POV too if you want to :)

𝚆𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: smut 18+; it’s kinda vanilla but like pretty passionate? Slight hair pulling, cockwarming, but like that’s it, tiny bit of angst blink and you’ll miss it, major fluff (the holy trinity)

𝙰𝚞𝚝𝚑𝚘𝚛'𝚜 𝙽𝚘𝚝𝚎: thanks for the request bug!! I love this idea :) ps i had tons of requests so i’ll be posting daily for a bit to get them out asap! thanks for y’alls patience :) ______________________________________

“Y/n?” 

You turned your head to the voice. Your eyes met the familiar ocean blueone  you spent so many hours staring into. Your face held a surprised looked before smiling softly at the handsome man you once were so in love with long ago. 

“Buck, is that you?”

He looked so different. His hair was short; he had scruff speckled with gray hairs all over his jaw, his arm wasn’t that familiar silver vibranium you often thought about, but he doesn’t need to know that. Not now especially. 

“Yeah. How are you? You look great.”

“Thank you. You too. You’ve changed, a lot. That’s not a bad thing though-”

“I got it,” he laughed. 

“Sorry,” you laughed, shaking your head before looking back at him.

“Care for a drink?” you asked him.

You two spent hours laughing and telling stories from the time you two have been apart. It was almost like you two never even broke up. You had to remind yourself that whenever Bucky would lay a hand on your hand in a fit of laughter, or on your thigh. But you couldn’t help it, he was so contagious. 

“Well, it’s getting really late I should head home,” you said standing up. You left a big tip for your waiter and tender because it was almost one in the morning and the place was supposed to close at midnight. 

“Let me walk you. You far?” he said standing with you. 

“Oh you don’t have to.”

“Come on. For old times sake.”

His goddamn gorgeous smile. How could you say no to that?

“I guess that wouldn’t be so bad.”

You two walked side by sided in the darkness. You felt safe beside him. You felt comfortable, like you always by his side. Soft illumination from the colorful neon signs lit up the street you were walking down. 

Your apartment wasn’t far, so you two walked for about 10 minutes. Cars were still busy in the early hours of the New York night and people still walked hurriedly up and down the street. But being beside Buck again after all that time apart, it felt like it was just the two of you.

“Well, this is me,” you said walking up the stairs to your front door.

“Are you gonna be ok?” you asked him.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine,” he said. 

There was a pause between you and you didn’t want him to go just yet. 

“Hey, do you wanna come inside? You know, before we part ways again.”

“I’d love that.”

He stepped inside and took in your surroundings. Your apartment looked practically the same from when Bucky was last there. He regrets leaving you the way he did. 

“Do you want anything to drink? I have coffee, water, another beer?” you chuckled.

“Beer is fine,” he said sitting on the couch; that damn couch. Memories of you riding him came back and he sighed wishing he could go back to those times again. 

“Here you go,” you said holding another for yourself. 

“Place hasn’t changed,” he spoke up.

“Yeah, I- you I’m not good with interior design. And shit’s too hard to move around and replace,” you laughed. 

There was a long moment of silence between you but it wasn’t a comfortable one; it was awkward and unsettling.

“I uh- I’m sorry. For the way things ended.”

“You don’t need to apologize. I kinda figured out what was really going on. You know the whole blip thing. I’m not mad anymore.”

“I’m still really sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Bucky’s heart ached when you said that.

Bucky had shown up one day years ago and left. He told you didn’t love you anymore but you saw through his bullshit. He told that night he was in trouble which wasn't a lie. Thanos had come and Bucky was taking refuge and fighting in Wakanda with Steve, Nat, and Sam after the Accords. He said that you being with him was going to put you in danger. He didn’t say anything else he just kissed you and left. 

His clothes were still in your drawers. His toothbrush stayed untouched. His shampoo used to be in your bathroom but you used if all up when he left depersate to smell his scent since he wasn’t there anymore. 

You were livid to say the least. He had given up on you. He didn’t even talk to you; he didn’t try anything to keep you. So you moved on. But you’d be a liar if you said you didn’t think back on those times at least once a day. Bucky did too. Now after chaos decreased, you realize he did what he thought was best and you forgave him.

“I think about you everyday, Y/n.”

You looked at him with eyes but your head was still down; your eyes avoiding his directly though afraid you’d fall again. He had a new arm; black with beautiful specks of gold in every line and crease of the metal, you assume. 

“I miss you,” he ever so slightly scooted closer to you, as did you subconsciously. 

You couldn’t say anything. You felt frozen.

“I regret how I left. God, I hated myself so much for so long. I still do.”

“Don’t. It was stupid of me to hate you for saving the world.”

“Why are you so perfect?” Bucky leaned in slowly, moving a hair from your face. 

“Buck,” you whispered. 

“Yes?”

“We shouldn’t.”

“You want me to stop?”

You paused.

“No,” you leaned forward and attached your lips to him. 

Bucky’s hand curled into your hair, pulling you flushed against him. Your hands tugged at his shirt doing the same. You two kissed for what felt like hours before you stood abruptly surprisingly Bucky. 

You grabbed his hand and led him to the bedroom; where you two spent most of your time together memorizing each other’s bodies. Where you’ll get to do so again tonight; even if it’s the last time. 

Bucky pressed your back against the door when you both stumbled in. He kissed hungrily like it was last time he’d get to do so. You two were both a little tipsy, not fully sure if either of your actions were genuine or touch-starved.

It didn’t matter in the moment anymore when Bucky’s lips attacked your neck making you moan and pant, each breath pressed your chest to his. His hands went under your shirt cupping your breasts; the stark contrast between his hands bringing memories back.

You kissed again before pulling his shirt over his head and discarding yours just as quickly. You felt frenzied; clouded by lust and need for the man you still love in front of you. He crawled back on the bed after all his clothes had been shed. 

You crawled up his body smiling and biting your lip. You felt yourself getting wetter just at the sight of Bucky fisting his cock; he bit his bottom lip as well looking at you with hungry eyes.

You straddled his hips feeling his dick poking the inside of your thigh. You cupped his face, his scruff scratching the palm of your hand. His hands rubbed your hips and cheeks as he closed his eyes, basking in your attention he craved for so long. 

You lifted your hips to sink down onto Bucky; you both simultaneously moaned at the feeling you both ache for. It didn’t matter how many times you two had sex, Buck’s size always had some getting use to. 

“Sorry, I think I’m ok now,” you whimpered.

“It’s ok, doll. Take your time; I remember how needy you get with my cock, huh, baby?”

“Bucky,” you moaned. 

You grinded yourself on his dick, each thrust brushing your clit making you shudder in pleasure. Bucky grabbed your hair and pulled it hard exposing your neck and arching you back. His lips kissed and nibbled on the skin of your neck, you gasped when he kissed a particular part.

“I remember, baby,” he smiled.

“Of course you do,” you breathed out laughing. 

“I thought about this everyday since I left. I thought about those pretty sounds you’re making bouncing on my cock. I thought these gorgeous tits pressing up against me. I thought about how good this pussy feels wrapped around me. Baby, you were made for me and if you think I’m gonna let you go again you got it wrong.”

His words brought you to the edge and you climaxed with a loud high pitched moan. Your body practically shook against Bucky’s. Bucky chased his own release flipping you over and rutting his hips into you wildly. 

When he did his hips stuttered and his head buried in your neck. He moaned loudly in your ear and you almost came again just from that. His arms collapsed and his body flopped on you. 

Blissed out, you softly scratched his back. His breath slowly even out and you figured he’d fallen asleep. You scratched his head as well before closing your eyes and falling asleep as well.

You woke up alone. You were secretly hoping that you’d wake up beside Bucky but no. you wobbled out of bed into the bathroom seeing the mirror fogged up. He took a shower and left, great. So much for last night. 

You washed your face in an attempt to put some wake in you and put some clothes on. You walked out to the kitchen to make breakfast but was surprised to find Bucky playing some old tunes on the radio and making you breakfast?

“Awe, man. And I was just about to bring you breakfast in bed, doll,” he smiled, holding a plate of food.

“I thought you left,” you said softly.

“I took a shower and wanted to make you something before we… part ways… again,” he sounded sad towards the end of that sentence; like he didn’t actually want to leave. Honestly, you didn’t want him to either.

“You don’t have leave,” you whispered, Bucky long turned the radio off. 

“I don’t want to, truthfully,” Bucky said.

“Then stay.”

“You must love me if you want me to stay after what I did,” he said, walking up to you.

“What if I do?” you asked.

“Then I’d be the happiest man in the world.”

You kissed him softly, feeling him melt into your kiss. 

“Promise you won’t leave again? No matter what happens?” you asked.

“I promise.”

[migilini]

Can I request an imagine with Charlie and like a typical day in their lives? Like they show their YouTube viewers their casual (Charlie chaos included) day? 💕

Typical - Charlie Gillespie

a/n: Sorry it took me a bit, had to take my wisdom teeth out... Anyways, I hope you like it :)) - Momo

words: 1.3k

warnings: fluffy like the clouds

requests are open :)

My MASTERLIST

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

“Hello hello and welcome back!” you told the camera propped up on one of your kitchen counters. The shot showing your tired face and loose pyjamas. A yawn escaped your slightly chapped lips as you tried to stretch the sleep away. Your eyes were heavy, your hair standing up in every possible direction, your body not fully awake yet.

“A lot of people asked for a little day to day vlog with the Gillespies,” you muttered as you made yourself a cup of coffee, the sparkling ring on your left ring finger very prominent in the shot.

“So we try to deliver! I just woke up a couple of minutes ago so excuse the light grogginess and don't know where my fiance is. Seems like you guys have to put up with only me for a bit.” you chuckled and poured milk into the steaming hot beverage.

“Sadly, we really don't have a lot to do today, well not much is planned…” you referred to the normal chaos a day with Charlie entailed. “We just need to run some errands, but I have a gut feeling that today will be a good one.”

You ended the clip and moved into your living room to turn up the radio. Ever since you were little, there was always some sort of music softly playing and therefore you hated a quiet house. It wasn't like you paid attention to the songs dancing through the air but the constant rumbling of background noise calms you down.

A little yellow piece of paper on the coffee table catches your eye. With furrowed eyebrows, you made your way over. Your eyes grew as you recognized Charlie's messy handwriting. Once again, you started a clip on your camera.

“I just found a secret message from Charlie on our coffee table.” you cleared your throat and started reading the note dramatically “‘Good morning Toots! I’m on a run and didn't want to wake you up. You looked so peaceful. I'll bring coffee from Allie’s. I love you, C Swizzle’” you grinned at the note, your heart beating faster with the love you have for him. “Hereby I declare the mystery where C Swizzle aka Char is as solved! I’m so hyped for the coffee. Allie’s is our favourite place in the whole city! Seriously if you're close by go and try it. So worth it. Now, until he’s back I’m gonna answer some emails and do our dishes from yesterday evening. You’re welcome to join me while I jam out to music.”

You propped the camera up on a shelf, filming yourself working for a bit. Then you went to the kitchen and turned up the music blaring out of the speakers you set up mere moments before. “Whenever I walk in the room. All the focus on me. The way I talk, the way I move. They all want on my team. Not tryin' to brag, brag, but I'm flawless.” screaming on the top of your lungs, you swayed your hips while the water from your tap filled the sink, the soap starting to bubble up.

“I'm taking over your playlist. Ain't perfect, but I can't miss, yeah. The party don't start 'til I walk in. I'm stealing all the attention. Don't get me started on mentions, yeah” A poor spoon had to be a placeholder microphone as you jumped through the small kitchen. Genuinely engulfed in the music, you didn't even hear the front door open and close. You didn't hear the footsteps walking towards you or the light chuckle that escaped the person's lips.

Sweaty arms wrapped themselves around your waist, making you scream and drop the cup you’ve been washing. The ceramic dish exploded on the floor, covering it in tiny splinters and shards. Charlie laughed at your reaction and pressed a loving kiss to your shoulder. “Sorry, Toots didn't want to scare you. I thought you heard me come in. Good morning by the way.” At the sound of his voice, you immediately relaxed. You weren't being murdered by an intruder. Turning around in his arms, you faced your boyfriend, your back pressed against the sink.

“I thought this was my last minute on earth. You really want to kill me before you even have the chance to marry me.” you chuckled and kissed his nose. “Where would be the fun in that? I do want to inherit some of your stuff.”

You lightly shoved him away but his arms stayed looking around your smaller frame. Looking down at the cup you frowned. “That was my favourite.”

“I'll get you another one. One that's even better than this one. Again I’m sorry.”

“I'll remember that. How was the run?” absentmindedly your hand brushed away some stray hairs that flew into Charlie's face. “Good.” he murmured “I don't like running with a mask on but it was all worth it because…” he turned around and got a little bag from the counter behind him. “I got us some coffee and that cream bagel you like so much.” you beamed up at him.

“Really?”

The next time you vlogged was at the grocery store several hours later. Charlie was pushing the shopping cart, while still holding your hand as you tried to deceiver your own grocery list. The camera sat comfortably at the front of the cart, framing you perfectly.

“Why did you think it was funny to write most of this in french?” you asked the boy next to you. He gave your hand a squeeze “Because you sometimes write stuff in german as well. It's only fair.”

You only rolled your eyes at that. “Yeah because I forgot the English word.” you huffed “Okay so we need d'oeufs. Eggs? And some milk. Right?”

“Mais oui mademoiselle.” He said amused.

“If you continue I will start to speak german,” you warned your boyfriend and you could bet that he was smiling under that mask.

“Threatening me in the grocery store? That's mean but the game is on honey.”

“You're gonna lose my dear. I had some french at school.” you let go of his hand and crossed your arms, raising one of your eyebrows at him while both of you grabbed some items you needed.

It wasn't the first time that the two of you suddenly challenged each other. One time, a couple of months ago, Charlie just randomly started to run and yelled back at you “Whoever is the last at the restaurant has to pay!” and with these words, he triggered your ambition. You struggled to get rid of your heels, hoping for the majority of the way as the two of you raced, reaching the restaurant sweaty and out of breath, earning some stares from other couples. Or another time where you suddenly claimed that you would be able to eat more pizza than him. A bet that you lost terribly.

Situations like this were normal for you, both really competitive and hardheaded. It was one of the things that spiced up daily life.

He raised both of his eyebrows, sparking a fire behind his eyes. “Essaie-moi, baby (Try me, baby)”

“In Ordnung, ab jetzt werde ich nur noch deutsch mit dir sprechen. (Alright, from now on I will only talk in german to you)”

Let’s just say the grocery shopping was a huge mess and took twice as long. You told Charlie to go and get the toothpaste and he came back with some pears which earned a laugh from you. Charlie tried to explain to you what he wanted to cook for you tomorrow evening, ingredients and everything but you only stared at him confused, occasionally nodding your head so he knew you were still listening. The dinner was gonna be a full surprise.

The two of you kept the act up all the way back to your apartment. You unpacked the food and had a camera recording somewhere. For the second time that day, arms wrapped around your waist, his head nuzzled in the crook of the neck.

“Do you have anything else planned for today?” he mumbled into your skin, his hot breath on your skin giving you goosebumps. A smile spread over your face. Wiggling out of his grip you sat on the tabletop and Charlie immediately stood between your legs, his arms around your neck. He leaned in to kiss you but before his lips touched yours you whispered “I won.”

His eyes grew wide and he pulled away slightly. He huffed and shook his head “Man I totally forgot about that. What is your prize, my lady?”

You traced his jaw with your index finger whilst your eyes never left his. “I demand… a thousand kisses!”

“A thousand?!” he exclaimed “My lady that's too many. You're going to starve the whole town.”

“Well then the town shouldn't have lost.” you teased back.

A smile was prominent on his face as he leaned in closer again “I must say you're a demanding ruler. But it seems like I must comply…”

The two of you stayed in bed for the rest of the day, only moving over to the couch to zap through Netflix. Naturally one of you already placed the camera on the shelf next to you.

Charlie tapped you on the shoulder, looking up from his spot half between your legs and on top of you.

“Yes, bubbs?”

“Play with my hair please.” he nearly whispered and made himself comfortable once again. Tiny hands finding their place in his dark hair.

At first, it was really weird to vlog all the time especially on a day where you and Charlie were just fooling around and being lovey-dovey. Luckily, you could still decide how much you wanted to cut out for the final video.

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

Taglist: @alluringworld

[evermoreweasley]

wait for me (fred weasley x reader)

(all images are from pinterest)

summary: muggle!reader, dad!fred. y/n is the muggle girlfriend of Fred Weasley, a wizard. at the beginning of the second wizard war, you and Fred are kept separated to keep you safe. however, what happens when you find out you’re pregnant?

warnings: angst! mentions of battle of Hogwarts, mentions of death, mentions of injury (knocked unconscious), food, vomiting, pregnancy scare, mentions of period, pregnancy, mentions of sex, kissing, anxiety, separation, cursing, suggestive comments, fluffy ending.

a/n: I love dad!fred :’)

taglist: @theweasleysredhair​ @witchyweasley​ @sarcasticallywitty15​ please message me if you’d like to be added or removed!

word count: 2.2k

---

February 7th, 1998 

You nervously picked at the emerald green nail polish on your fingernails as you looked out the window of your apartment. You watched the headlights of cars as they drove by and people laughing as they crossed the street in groups, going out for the night. 

You were stuck at your apartment, alone in muggle London and you had run out of things to distract yourself with. You drank the last of the tea in the cupboard. You already did not one, not two, but six puzzles. And lastly, you already read not one, not two, but eight books. You were so tired of the small space of your apartment and so anxious about your boyfriend, you needed to find something to do besides stare out the window. 

You had met your boyfriend, Fred Weasley, through Hermione Granger. Hermione’s muggle parents were next door neighbors with your own muggle parents. You had never been more happy than when Fred and Hermione introduced you to their wizarding world so many years ago. 

Sighing, you made your way over to the kitchen sink. You decided to make homemade soup, from a recipe book you had forgotten that you had. It was buried deep inside of your kitchen cabinet, behind your dinnerware. As you cut up the carrots, onions, and celery, you were hit by a sudden wave of extreme nausea. You shook your head as you swallowed hard, convincing yourself it was just nerves for the events that were happening with your boyfriend and friends. But as you placed the vegetables in the pot, you recognized immediately that it wasn’t nerves.

You ran out of the kitchen and down the small hallway of your apartment, in the bathroom you doubled over the toilet as you vomited. Your mouth fell open in shock at your sudden illness as you wiped at the corners of your mouth with a tissue. You quickly washed your mouth out with minty mouthwash. As you opened the cabinet to put the mouthwash away, a small pink and white box caught your attention. It was a box containing pregnancy tests. You had a pregnancy scare all the way back in May, when your period was late. However, you got your period just moments after arriving home from the store with the purchase so you just shoved them to the back of your cabinet. 

Your eyes narrowed away from the box to look at yourself in the mirror. You wondered if you were pregnant. You had barely seen your boyfriend, Fred, since late July, after his twin brother George lost an ear. Fred was so worried about you, especially after what happened to his brother. You had to go into hiding in muggle London at your apartment due to the catastrophic events that were happening in his world. 

You thought back, you had seen him on exactly three occasions since then. The first was in August, second in October, and the last time was in December. 

You remembered Fred visiting right before the holidays. His big, strong hands all over your body as he ripped your jeans off of you urgently. His lips kissing and sucking on the delicate part of your neck, desperate for you as breathy moans filled the room. Your lips only momentarily leaving him, passionate and heated, as your bodies moved seamlessly against each other under the sheets.

In all of the stress, you had missed your period and you didn’t realize it at the time. Your hands trembled slightly as you reached out for the pregnancy test box. You knew you had to take it.

As you waited for the results of the test that rested on the bathroom sink, you paced the small hallway. You checked the wall clock and knew it was time to look. You reached for the test with trembling hands, your heart was pounding out of your chest, your mouth was bone-dry, and your whole body lightly shook for what might come. You turned over the test in your hands and saw a tiny plus sign indicating that you were in fact pregnant. You placed one hand on the sink to steady yourself, while your other hand immediately flew to your wide mouth.

How were you going to tell Fred? When were you even going to see Fred again? Fred would randomly apparate to your apartment when he managed to sneak around and felt he could do so safely, but that was it. How were you supposed to handle being pregnant when you knew your boyfriend was about to go to the second wizarding war?

Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill out. Your hands lightly shook as they fell to your stomach. “You will meet your dad,” you sighed, speaking to the child growing inside of you. “I promise.”

May 3rd, 1998

It was the early morning hours, still dark out, when a loud sound awoke you. A bang from the living room of your apartment. You sat up, now completely awake and terrified. You kept your hand on your now huge bump protectively as you rolled out of bed. You wondered if it was a wizard or witch, and if it was, hopefully it wasn’t an evil one. 

Reaching for a baseball bat near your nightstand, you cursed, knowing it stood no chance to a wand. But if it was a muggle, you could at least try to fight them off.

You heard another crash, followed by a curse word from the intruder’s lips. And then you heard them speak a spell you recognized, “Lumos.” You heard light footsteps walking down the hallway toward you. Your heart was beating rapidly in a panic for who was coming.

“I’ll fight you, asshole!” You yelled out as you gripped the baseball bat tightly, holding it up. You were ready to swing with every ounce of strength you had coursing through your veins, to protect yourself, but more importantly, your and Fred’s growing child.

“Y/n,” The voice calmly spoke as it got nearer to your bedroom. “It’s me,” He opened the door to your bedroom slightly and you dropped your baseball bat hard on the ground as the light from his wand illuminated your room. “George.”

“George?” you spoke out quietly, squinting your eyes at the tall figure that stood in front of you.

Your boyfriend’s twin brother stood in front of you, cautiously. He was covered in rubble and dried dirt. His familiar chocolate brown eyes were kind, as always, but also showed a hint of fear. “I came to tell you, it’s over,” he breathed out. “The war is over.”

Your heart fell into your stomach as a wave of both concern and relief hit you all at once. “What?”

He nodded as he scanned your face. “And Fred,” he breathed out. “He’s alive, but he was knocked unconscious.”

You cursed out as your knees slightly buckled, before quickly steading yourself. You were truly speechless at George’s words. You nervously looked down at your feet, but your vision was becoming obstructed by your growing bump. And in all of the concern and worry, you were suddenly reminded of what was going on inside, a child was growing.

“I’m,” you looked down at your bump, you were nearly five months pregnant and it showed. “I’m-” you tried once more.

George’s curious eyes found yours before he followed them downward, to your bump. “Are you-” he started, his eyes growing wide as his mouth fell open. “Pregnant?” His eyes found yours once more as a small smile spread to his lips, ecstatic that he was going to be an uncle, and his twin a dad.

You nodded at George, tears were now spilling down your cheeks. You were excited to finally tell another person that you were pregnant. But you were also upset that Fred wasn’t the first person you were telling. 

“Oh, George,” you sighed as you wiped the tears that continued to fall down your cheeks. 

George walked over to you, hugging you tightly. “Oh, darling,” George spoke out, as he soothingly stroked your hair. “Are you alright?”

“No,” you sighed. “Can I see Freddie?” you asked into his chest.

“Soon.” He spoke out, continuing to stroke your hair.

“Okay,” you sighed as you loosened your grip around his waist. 

“Y/n,” George breathed out.

“Yes?”

“I may have broken your lamp.”

May 5th, 1998

The day started as you poured George a cup of coffee. It had been three days since the battle of Hogwarts had ended, George told you everything that happened that night and the days leading up to it. Many lives were lost, many were injured. You felt more than grateful at the fact that Fred was alive, albeit injured. One hour into the battle, Fred had been knocked unconscious as he fell backwards against a stone wall, near the room of requirement. Percy and George were quick to move him out of the way and into safety.

George slept on the couch in your living room. You asked him to stay with you until you could see Fred, the anxiety around your pregnancy and your boyfriend’s near death consuming you. 

As George sipped at his coffee, an owl lightly tapped on the window near your kitchen. “Must be mum,” George spoke out as he sprang up from his chair and went to retrieve the letter. He quickly ripped opened the letter and scanned the contents before reading it out loud to you.

“George, Y/n, 

I’m beaming to say that early this morning, Fred woke up. Thank Merlin! He desperately wants to see both of you at once, especially Y/n. Please apparate to the Burrow once you receive this.

Love, Molly.”

The biggest smile took over your features as relief and joy washed over you at the words on the letter. Fred was awake. Your heart began to beat rapidly as you realized that when you saw him, you would finally be able to tell him that you were pregnant.

You looked over at George and as if he knew what plagued your mind, he spoke out. “He will be absolutely overjoyed, Y/n.”

You nodded as you smiled at him. You knew that Fred was going to be the best dad.

“And you’re going to be the best uncle, Georgie.”

He smiled at you as he offered out his hand for you to take. Holding his wand in the other, he looked over at you. “Ready?” He asked you kindly.

“Ready.”

You squeezed George’s hand as you felt the two of you spin and a rush of air blew past you. You never got used to apparating, and you suddenly felt a wave of nausea hit you at the quick spinning. 

Much to your relief, your feet suddenly hit the ground of the Burrow and immediately, you self consciously grabbed your belly. You faced the kitchen as you heard Molly’s comforting, familiar voice behind you.

“Y/n! George!” She exclaimed.

You inhaled a deep breath in, looking over at George as he nodded at you, in an encouraging way. You exhaled and turned to face her. You smiled and then rubbed your bump. Molly’s kind eyes followed downward, landing on your bump as her mouth slightly fell open in excitement. Her eyes grew wide. “Y/n!” She cheered, clapping her hands together. “Am I going to be a grandmother?” She whispered.

You nodded as you smiled back at her. “Yes, you are.”

She quickly wiped away her happy tears with the backs of her hands. “So, so good to see you dear,” She suddenly became an emotional mess. “Sorry,” She exhaled, as happy tears continued to fall down her round cheeks as George walked over to hug her. “Freddie’s laying on the couch. He may be sleeping though. Rough last few days, I’m sure George has filled you in.”

Nodding, you quietly walked into the living room. The back of the couch was facing you, you smiled as you saw that familiar head of red hair poking out on the end of the arm rest.

You cautiously walked around the side of it, noticing that Fred was, in fact asleep. Smiling, you took one last deep breath as you reached out to gently wake him up. “Freddie,” you whispered as you kneeled down in front of the couch, your bump hidden. You ran your fingers through his messy red hair. “Freddie, it’s me.”

Fred’s eyes started to flutter open. Once his warm, chocolate brown eyes were open wide enough, a huge smile immediately filled his entire face. “Y/n!” he exclaimed sleepily, pulling you in for a gentle kiss. “I’ve missed you so much, my love.” You stared at him for a moment, his hands cupping both sides of your face as he gently rubbed his fingers lovingly down your cheeks. 

“Freddie,” you started.

“Yes, my love?” He asked as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“I’ve got something important to tell you,”

His eyes grew wider in curiosity as he scanned your face. “Yeah?”

“I’m,” you started as you slowly got up off of your knees. 

As you got up, Fred’s eyes fell from your face onto your growing bump, his chocolate brown eyes immediately tearing up as a wide grin spread across his face. “Pregnant.” You finished, now fully standing in front of him.

“Y/n!” He exclaimed excitedly as he jumped off of the couch, pulling you into a tight, warm hug. You smiled as you embraced and you could feel a tear or two fall off of his cheek onto you. 

He leaned down to kiss you sweetly and your heart soared out of your chest. “I’m so happy.” He hummed as he lovingly ran his long, slender fingers up and down your back. 

You pulled away to look into his chocolate brown eyes intensely. “I’m due in September.” He grabbed your hand and kissed your knuckles.

“Is that so?” He asked seriously, before a mischievous smirk fell on his lips a moment later, he pulled his hand up to jokingly count on his fingers. “Yeah, that sounds about right to me,” He spoke out, chuckling.

You giggled as you ran your fingers up and down his arm.

“I’m so sorry I’ve missed out on so much your pregnancy, love, I-”

You shook your head as you gently shushed him. “No, don’t be,” you smiled. “I’m just happy that you’re here now.”

Fred smiled at you first, then at your bump. His large hand reached out and ran it lovingly down your belly. 

“Thank you for waiting, so that I could meet you.” He spoke to your growing child. “Merlin knows you could’ve been born during the war,” He breathed out. “Considering the way your mom and I can’t seem to keep our hands off of each other.” He whispered, before looking at you and smirking.

You giggled once more. “Yes, Freddie,” you hummed. “Our baby did wait for you.”

“And I’m so thankful for that.” He leaned down and placed a gentle kiss to your bump.

[threeminutesoflife]

Don’t Forget

Pairings: Steve x Black!Reader Summary: A look at family life for Steve, Reader and their daughter after reader suffers problems with her memory  Warnings: slight angst/ends happy, memory loss due to injury, smut, slightest breeding kink Word Count: 1.8k

prompt: 50 First Dates

a/n: @allaboardthereadingrailroad❣️🧡​ thank you for hosting the Diversity Challenge 

a/n2: piece is purposely choppy and randomly placed to reflect the reader’s struggle with memory. Also, references to Dark Knight, Love Actually, Say Anything, 50 First Dates.

___ A monetary, momentary impact- cause and effect:

Bank robberies were many things. Successful ones were more. Timing, precision, determination; a well-mapped out plan, and methodical dedication to achieve a streamless end result.

It was that sort of successful robbery that cemented you, an involuntary participant, on a repetitive course of choppy, foggy memories. Despite the jovial clown designs of the robbers’ masks, the severity of the situation was real.   

Because things really do play out in slow motion as dramatic events unfold- a deafening crash, a cloud of dusty sunlight pouring in through the bank's broken entrance. Stilted, broken flashes of your life projected themselves on the backs of your closed eyelids.

Unfortunately, you were within the range of the propelling debris when the school bus reversed into the building.

Because of that day, your memory would skip and strip. 

____

Exhilaration- friendly fear of tickle monsters:

The sound of tiny feet slapping the floor drew closer from down the hall, ten little toes against high-gloss maple.

The bedroom door crashed open with no regard to the plaster behind it.

Giggles cut through the room as thirty pounds of mischief in footed pajamas launched itself straight at you.

“Mommy!”

Your three year old squealed before bombing her limbs upon your stomach, "Daddy’s gonna get us!”

___

No time for regret, when you’re in the moment of gratitude:

Steve found you standing in front of the vanity, staring at the mirror- unfocused. Frowning slightly, he knew what you were doing to yourself.  

“You okay, sweetheart?”

“Steve, do you ever think... it’d be easier if you didn’t ask me out all those years ago?”

“Which time?” Steve tested the waters with the usual joke, gathering time to prepare himself for the familiar, spirit-dampening conversation.

Every few months you’d ask him if all this was worth it- if the extra work to be with you was what he wanted. He’d always reply with, ‘Loving you's a blessing, not a chore.’

You’d hesitate at those words, at his sincerity- until he was able to coax affection back into your field of vision. Because you were worth it to him. 

“Steve, come on. I’m being serious.”

“Me too. I’m lucky to be as stubborn as people claim me to be-“

“Oh, it’s a fact," you snorted. "Not a claim. You’re stubborn.”

“Good thing for me then, huh?" Steve smiled, relieved by your humor. "Otherwise, I’d miss out on everything that’s good in my life.”

___

She’s got jokes:

A documentary splashed itself across the television screen as you sank into the couch next to Steve. Pointing your toes, you rested your legs over his lap and cracked open the fake memory journal's spin. 

Watching you from the corner of his eye, Steve hid his excitement that you brought the book out by him. 

You usually looked over it alone, too self-conscious to try remembering things in front of others. He always encouraged you to sit and read it with him. He liked resharing the stories you created together, but your underlying guilt for not recalling events easily shut the door on those conversations.   

Turning the page, you caught Steve glancing at you before shooting his attention back to the screen with a cough. 

Smugly stretching your legs, you bit your lip and rubbed your ankle over Steve’s bulge. Catching the way his thigh jumped and flexed under his thin sweatpants, your eyes darted back to the journal. You couldn’t wait to play out your prank. 

Keeping his eyes on the screen, Steve picked up your ankle and rolled his knuckles along the arch of your foot. As much as he appreciated the way you riled him up, he wanted you to open up.

Chuckling, you mumbled to yourself how great that day must have been before turning the page and complimenting another pretend event. 

Another faux memory praised, Steve twisted towards you before shaking his head and turning back to the screen. Pressing his thumb harder into the sole of your foot, he was unsure how to proceed. 

Delighted by his confusion, you complimented another memory with a theatrical dreamy sigh.

Giving in to his curiosity, Steve paused the television and gave it a shot, “What are we looking at?” 

“I thought it might be nice to talk about the stuff we did- like you’ve wanted.”

The smile that spread across Steve’s face almost made you feel bad for the prank.

“Yeah, yes- I’d like that,” he shut the tv off, practically dropping the remote in excitement. “What are you reading, what’s making you laugh?”

“How you asked me out using cue cards you made. The messages you came up with were sweet.”

“...Cue cards?”

“It was special of you, Steve. Taking the time to write out something on each one. Here. Look at this sentence, you called me perfect. Reading what you did and how loved I felt, you’re so wonderful.”

“...Honey...” Steve’s voice cracked slightly, “I don’t, I don't know anything about cue cards-”

“-And then the time you stood outside my bedroom window with that boombox. Holding it obnoxiously high above your head. Thank goodness for biceps, am I right?" You teased, nudging Steve with your elbow. "That gesture might be a little too much for some but reading how you made me feel, it meant so me.”

“You wrote that?” Steve questioned, an edge of concern creeping in. “You think I actually did-... you remember these things happening?”

“My favorite is right here. When you built that little house out of waffles at the diner. Setting up a kiddie pool of syrup for us to dip the roof in and a jacuzzi of hot chocolate nearby. And then your expression- when I said I'm more of a pancake person. You argued how pancakes aren’t sound enough for construction.” 

Keeping your poker face intact, you tried not to flinch as Steve inspected you intensely. 

Suddenly, he jetted forward and snatched the fake journal from your hands. Sailing it over his shoulder, he knocked your legs from his lap and climbed off the couch to loom over you. 

Before regret set in from your play of inaccurate historical accounts, your body snapped backward as Steve yanked you down the sofa by your ankles. 

“Hysterical. Pancakes over waffles” Steve scoffed dryly at your teasing, boxing himself over you and settling his knee between your legs. “I know you too well. You’re in for it now, sweetheart.”

____

Adoration, a promise of tradition and support:

You sat in bed with her snuggled by your side, a little nose peeked out from under her blanket. Her little hand wrapped itself around your shirt, her other held a well-loved, stuffed bunny. 

Scooping her up, you cradled her in your arms. Warm security. Peeling a corner of the blanket back, you kissed her cheek. 

Between giggles, she raised the rabbit up in the air and you played along- one kiss for her, another for her stuffed friend.

She settled in slowly with a yawn as you hummed the lullaby your mother softly sang to you before bed. The same rich melody draped with the lyrics your grandmother sang to her children. 

Tears gathered in your eyes as you willed yourself not to forget this moment.

___

Gratitude and gratefulness:

“Can’t you see how beautiful you are? Knowing I’m yours- that you’re mine... when you come out of that bedroom each morning, I witness that recognition of love on your face when you see us...” Steve’s body tensed, his shoulders shook as he stumbled over the words. "...getting to see you with our girl each day."

“Hey," You called to him, pulling himself out of his thoughts. "Hey, handsome."

Steve pressed his forehead against yours and tried to push down his anxiety. 

Your eyes locked to his as you promised teasingly, “You and our daughter- seeing her each day- that’s my happiness. You're just a bonus.”

Sputtering a laugh, he closed his eyes and relaxed from your fingers threading through his hair. Steve never took for granted how you soothed him, especially during the times when he should actually be comforting you. 

“Thank you,” Steve whispered. 

“Some things are easier to remember than others for me.”

“Yeah?” His lips ghosted over yourself, a half-smile raising the corner of his mouth.

“Yeah. The journal's a great cheat sheet, makes it easier to recall I have a husband. Now, if only I could pick him-”

Steve moved quickly, cutting off your joke. His mouth trapped your next words when his tongue swept over your lips. 

___

Muscle memory:

“Hold your legs. Spread'em wide for me,” Steve instructed between a husky, broken grunt. “Wider, sweetheart.”

He stroked himself in front of you as you laid naked on your back. Your arms were sandwiched between the fold of your legs and hands locked around your ankles. You provided your husband more access and an even prettier view with your feet in the air and legs parted. 

He ran his fingers over your folds, circling your clit. Lining himself up, he thought how these were some of his favorite moments with you, the intimacy and the need.

Caught up in the stretch and sensation of him slowly entering you, you almost missed his next words over your moans. 

“Want…” Steve stuttered, “want to be deep in you, beautiful.”

You mewled under him, squeezing him from his words. Releasing your ankles, you grabbed his arms for support as he slowly slid deeper. Steve’s movements faltered with a groan, feeling you tighten around him.

He closed his eyes to concentrate as you felt goosebumps run down his forearms under your palms. 

“Fuck,” Steve cursed and praised, thrusting harder. Your legs bounced above your arms from each snap of his hips.

“Free your legs. Give me your hands, sweetheart,” Steve instructed, massaging your breast.

Pulling him down, your hands wrapped around the back of his neck. You inhaled his woodsy shampoo as you dragged your nose along the light shadow of his beard. Capturing his mouth with yours, you tasted salt on his top lip.   

With a quick bite along your collarbone, his chest rumbled when you ignored his instructions. Collecting your wrists in one hand, he secured them over your head and ground into you harshly. 

“I love you,” Steve said, slowing his pace. 

You replied with a roll of your hips, earning a dark moan from him, "I love you, too.” 

Steve rocked back on his heels, dragging away his length and slipping out of you completely. Your body immediately began to cool from his lack of touch. 

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you called out, "What's wrong?"

“Your empty journal sheets bother me,” Steve stated, running his hands over your knees. "We're fixing that."  

His thumbs circled up your inner thighs, looping closer to your core. Spreading your legs further apart, he pushed them into the mattress. Taking himself back in his hand, he palmed his erection and rocked his shaft along your folds. 

"Let's have another baby, sweetheart," he smirked, teasing his tip into you. "Gotta fill up all those pages.”

[ironmandeficiency]

falcon, falcon, goose!

pairing: sam wilson / reader

word count: 3547

summary: there were reports of geese leading people to their soulmates spanning centuries, and it seemed like a cool concept, but why did it have to coincide with you coming out of your writing slump?

warnings: cursing, geese, dumbassery, implied happy au where the avengers get along, iw and endgame who?

a/n: this is an older piece i wrote a couple years ago, decided to brush it up and repost it. and the reader works for snl bc why the hell not? keep in mind that the original was written before everything went to shit w iw & endgame. posted from mobile yet again yall what is wrong w me

it was a sunny day outside, and deciding that you had been cooped up for far too long, you brought your laptop to the park a couple blocks from your studio apartment.

being a writer for saturday night live wasn't always so peachy, what with the lack of a social life outside of your co-workers and constantly explaining your job to confused relatives. you had been in a slump for the past couple weeks, the fact most of your sketch ideas not making the cut for the next episode continuing to throw you off your rhythm.

this week, you were going to change that. Your headphones were playing your concentration playlist full volume and you were hyped to the max. with your laptop on the picnic table in front of you and a warm cup of tea beside it, you were ready to blow the producers away with your next idea.

"honk! honk!"

you felt something nudge your leg, but you were too engrossed into what you were typing to care. after getting through a few more lines, it happened again.

"honk! honk! honk!"

you couldn't hear the sound but the feeling on your leg got a little bit rougher, more demanding. you moved your headphones to the side for a minute and took a moment to look around you. there was no kid running to get their ball back or any squirrels nearby that dropped a nut.

strange.

but you put your headphones back on, trying to keep your groove alive while hoping the interruptions are finished.

"HONK! HONK! HONK!" the goose honked louder, pecking at your leg harder than it had earlier.

you were getting frustrated and a little pissed. the creativity was flowing through your veins for the first time in what felt like ages and this — whatever it was — decided that today was the best day to annoy you.

you kicked your legs out with a strange flail and when you came into contact with something large and solid you nearly screamed.

"ow! motherf- oh my god!"

standing on the ground beside your table was a goose. it honked yet again with impatience (geese could do that?) and nipped lightly at your thigh closest to it. looking to the pond nearby, it was nearly an entire gaggle of the damned things.

so here was this goose honking at you and nipping at you like you were supposed to know what the hell it wanted from you.

"i don't have any bread, dumbass. go find someone else to bother." thinking it would leave if you ignored it, you turned away and continued your work.

"HONK! HONK!" it continued to honk and decided to peck you before flapping its wings, landing itself on the table next to your computer.

"get outta here, ya damn goose!" while you were trying to shop it away, it expertly evaded you. "go! shoo! leave me alone!"

it just stayed over on the bench, expertly dodging your attempts to get it to leave.

a few people nearby had heard your altercation with the infernal bird. one of them was an older gentleman that laughed as he sat across from you, the mirth in his eyes glinting as you give him a sarcastic side eye while trying to deal with the current issue.

"that bird won't leave you alone, you know." At his voice, the goose calmed down and waddled a few feet away from your arm's reach.

that was the first time the thing had been seemingly calm since he showed up at your little table.

"what do you mean he won't leave me alone?"

he pauses, part of him enjoying the irritation in your tone. he remembers someone talking to him like he was to you many years ago, and it made his heart smile at the idea of repaying the favor. "have you ever read about soulmate geese?"

"hey we're gonna go for a run, wanna join?" steve’s offer was given with a smirk. ever since reuniting with bucky, the two supersoldiers found so much humor in doing laps around sam every time they went out jogging.

it annoyed the shit out of him, the "on your left" comments from steve and the newer "on your right" jabs from bucky, but it also pushed Sam to work harder during his runs. ultimately he knew his non-enhanced body didn't stand much of a chance beating them, but he enjoyed when he was able to close the gap between their times just a little bit.

"sure, just gimme a few to eat breakfast and I'll join you guys." the blond nodded and turned back to the elevator, having woken up far earlier than sam and therefore already ate.

he hummed otis redding as he laid the bacon flat into the pan, shoulders moving along with his created rhythm while changing the grounds in the coffee filter. this was how he spent most of his mornings, barring the occasional hangovers and missions where he couldn't afford the distraction.

he ate, got dressed, and told FRIDAY to let bucky and steve know he was ready to go. h had his water bottle in hand, giving his body a pep talk in preparation for the run. they met in the common room and soon, the trio was off.

"on your left!"

"on your right!"

"oh, come on!"

he knew it was gonna happen, but for some reason it felt like it happened sooner than normal. either they were trying really hard to mess with him today, or he was off his game. but regardless, he pushed his body harder than he probably should have because when there was something obstructing his path, he didn't pause. no, he charged it straight on through and fell hard.

steve and bucky had seen this from a distance and immediately rushed to get to their friend.

sam rolled onto his back, exhausted and now in terrible pain from the fall. he closed his eyes and just let it all sink in. when he opened his eyes at the sudden foul smell flooding his nostrils, he could feel the palpitations, thinking he was about to have a heart attack.

"holy shit!" sam sat up like a rocket despite the way his body was throbbing from the fall.

the goose stared at him curiously and turned its head toward the pounding footsteps from the approaching brooklynites.

"sam! What happened?" steve was concerned, inspecting sam while bucky noticed the bird. The brunet bent down to meet the goose eye-level and was somewhat surprised that it didn't run away at the close proximity.

"did you trip the dumbass? was it your fault sam landed on his face? Huh, little guy?"

"honk! honk!"

"i thought so. good job, man." bucky pats the animal on the head gently before turning to help steve get sam off the ground.

"nothing’s broken but there's probably a sprain, can't really be sure until we get to cho." sam and bucky lift their friend from the pavement and they have no problem supporting his weight.

they began the walk back to the tower in silence. well, almost silence. there was a faint pitter-patter of tiny, webbed feet behind them that sam and bucky weren't paying attention to.

steve noticed the goose slowly waddling behind the trio and looked at sam with a smile. sam responded to steve’s happy face with a glare, not enjoying any of the situation he found himself in.

"look behind us, guys."

both men took turns looking behind them and see the goose waddling behind them patiently. sam wasn't particularly happy about the culprit from moments before trailing behind him, but bucky thought it was hilarious.

"do you know what this means?"

sam rolled his eyes because he thought the blond was about to make some sort of poetic comment about one thing for another.

bucky had paused to think about the implications of a random goose for a moment before gasping. "dude," bucky nudged sam softly, being conscious of his friend's injuries. "you’re gonna meet your soulmate, man!"

"a soulmate goose. man come on, are you out of your mind?"

"steve got his goose back during the war, i think we know enough about it."

sam had only heard vague reports of soulmate geese throughout his life, but now that he thought about it, it did make sense. the goose showed up randomly in the middle of his routine, completely throwing him off, and was now refusing to leave him alone.

"well if this is my soulmate goose, then somebody’s gotta tell tony about our newest avenger." they laughed at the implication, viciously eager to witness tony’s reaction to the newest resident of avengers hq.

it has been three days of dealing with your goose, and you were now teased at work as “bird brain”, walking into your office to see several loaves of bread covering the desk. your goose, that you had named piper once you got home, was excited at the prospect of more food, but you planned on donating most of the bread to local shelters, only keeping a couple loaves for the house.

the guest host that week was mick jagger, and he had emerged into the room “i dream of jeanie” style, startling both you and piper, who honked at him in irritation.

it was time for you to work on the song for your little sketch with him, and you had only two more days before performance night (it was thursday) to finish writing it. after settling down and getting into the right mindset, the writing process had begun.

"alright let's see," mick murmured. "let’s all go to the picnic, let's all have a drink. what rhymes with 'drink'?"

you thought for a moment and said quietly, "think?"

you weren't prepared for the absurd response you received from the man, his accent making him round mean as he barked out a loud "NO!" with an unnecessary hand gesture.

piper just about lost it. she was honking and flapping around your office in a tizzy (but staying away from mick because the man was seen as a stranger she wasn't comfortable with).

you racked your brain for another solution, something else to rhyme with 'drink' and you eventually found it: "sink?"

mick thought about it for a moment before replying with a much lighter "yes!" also paired with unwarranted pointing.

‘motherfucker, is this how you write songs?!'

thursday and friday came and went, and soon it was time for your piece to be performed by mick. du to an accidental ankle twist someone else suffered, you were forced to perform a skit live for the first time in your career. it would have been great, but there was one teensy problem: piper blatantly refused to leave your side when it was time to perform, and she would honk and bite anyone that tried to keep her from you onstage.

even poor bobby, who she had grown fond of, was taking the brunt of it. she was not allowing you to be more than a couple feet away from her, and it was almost endearing if you weren't being broadcast on national television.

apparently, piper would also be making her debut appearance on saturday night live tonight as well.

saturday had arrived, and it was sam’s day of rest. he spent the day doing the bare minimum, eating junk food and watching almost everything on netflix he could find.

he didn't stray too far from tradition, not really. it was just that now he had a goose accompanying him the entire time, honking at this and that and eating occasional pieces of popcorn that sam didn't want to share.

he didn't mind his feathered companion, he was actually quite fond of his goose at this point. whitewing (not to be confused with redwing) was the most calm goose any of them had seen, no biting or nipping and especially no honking at ungodly hours of the night.

steve was perplexed. "Are you sure whitewing hasn't done anything bad? no waking you up at night or bites when you don't feed him soon enough?"

sam would chuckle and shake his head, proud to have such a calm goose. "why are you so keen to see him misbehave? aren’t all soulmate geese like this?"

"for lack of a better word, most geese are assholes. i don't know how whitewing is so well behaved," steve balked at the very idea of all geese being so mellow and decided it was story time.

steve’s goose from the century before was the most rambunctious animal anyone had ever seen. he recounted the first and several occasions following where his soulmate goose, jimmy, fended off the blond man's alleyway attackers.

sam was extremely grateful that whitewing had less feral and goose-like tendencies. whitewing was extremely well behaved and had an almost human way about him, the way he honked in reply to sam or the rest of the team when they talked to him.

it was late in the evening when clint decided to plop down onto the couch and flick the channel to nbc, where tonight's host was mick jagger.

"why are we watching this?" sam was enjoying his sitcoms before the other bird man had showed up.

"i haven't watched it in ages, plus mick jagger is on tonight."

"alright, whatever you want."

the intro played like usual, and whitewing was perfectly complacent. they laughed in the right places with the occasional honking from the bird, and everything was great.

"hey man, look!" clint interrupted, keeping sam from being able to hear the punchline. "i think that's a goose!"

"why is there a goose? The skit has nothing to with-"

sam and clint seemed to come to the same realization at the same time as whitewing, the goose beginning to honk incessantly. he was going absolutely berserk, flapping his wings and hopping off of sam’s lap and onto the coffee table, occasionally pecking at the tv where he saw the other goose.

he was going absolutely bonkers.

"whitewing! whitewing, no! calm down!" sam scrambled to calm down his goose, but he was having none of it. the whole entire skit, whitewing was honking and flapping and being a general nuisance.

he found his soulmate.

whitewing kept at it until the screen went to a commercial, his soulmate off of the screen.

"y’know," clint spoke around a slice of pizza. when did he get pizza? "if you hurry, you could go to the studio and meet your soulmate. the show is about halfway over."

before sam could think over the proposition, tony’s voice was heard from the corridor. "somebody shut that damned bird up before I pay ramsay to cook it!"

"i’m taking care of it!"

with that, sam heads to the armory with whitewing on his tail to get his wings. once he's equipped, sam heads to the window and jumps, immediately setting his course for studio 8h and his soulmate.

you’re released to go back to your office once you finish the skit alongside mick and piper, the show almost over. you’re gathering your things lazily, knowing that you have no other responsibilities for the night.

just as you lock your office and piper is waddling beside you without a care in the world, you see kyle running towards you with a look of fear in his eyes. that fear seems to only triple when his eyes land on piper beside you.

"kyle! what’s-"

"there’s another goose on the set! no one is safe!"

wait, was he bleeding?!

you were going to try and help your friend but one look at piper sent him off the rails, the lanky man nearly falling on his ass in an attempt to skid the corner. you hoped that someone would help calm your panicked friend, seeing as you were literally the worst person for the job at the moment.

without further incident, you are able to say goodbye to cecily and mikey before you're stopped in your tracks by michael, who gives piper a funny look.

"wait, so the goose that attacked kyle wasn't piper?" You shake your head in confusion. "dude, your soulmate must have come to the set!"

piper must have either understood what your co-worker had said or she could sense a change in the studio, but she began to honk erratically and run away from you. the last thing new york needed was two feral geese running around attacking people, so you did what anyone would do and ran after her.

"piper! piper, come back!" michael laughed as you chased after your goose. while you were running, you nearly died when you heard a honk that you knew wasn't from your piper. hers were carved into your brain, and you were positive that you could pick hers out of an entire gaggle of geese, so there was indeed a second goose in the studio.

to your dismay, piper did not stop and wait, she just kept on honking and flapping and scaring people in pursuit of the other goose, poor old you having to chase her.

there was another voice you assumed was yelling at his goose since you didn't know of anyone naming their kid whitewing. your eyes were not looking straight ahead when you suddenly bumped into someone, immediately stumbling a bit before regaining your balance.

piper had stopped her honking and that scared you. did someone hurt her? was she-

her and another goose were making muted honks to each other. they sounded like affectionate honks, which is one of the weirdest sentences you ever constructed in your head. but it was true! they were cuddling close to each other and making really quiet honking noises at each other, and if that wasn’t affectionate then you didn’t know what would be.

so if piper found her soulmate, that means yours was-

"i hope comin' to your job was okay. whitewing wasn't gonna give up until I left, so here we are." your eyes were dragged from the touching scene of piper and her special goose to a pair of dark brown irises that radiated warmth and a promise of happy days.

you were absolutely dumbstruck. your mouth was unable to form coherent words, so you decided to take in the appearance of your soulmate. he was wearing a soft grey tee and sweatpants, and socks without shoes. did he realize how unsanitary the streets of new york were?

but upon further investigation, you realize that he probably didn't walk to the studio. on his back was what you would normally call a jetpack, but when you recognize the face your mind completes the puzzle: your soulmate is sam wilson, otherwise known as the falcon. holy shit.

"uh yeah of course, i guess you flew here? no sane person in new york would walk around barefoot in the street." did you really just say that?!

sam nodded and then remembered that he was in his pajamas in front of his soulmate without any shoes. "yeah, he wasn't gonna stop attacking the tv once he saw uh…"

you realized he was asking for your goose’s name, and so you hastily gave it to him.

"yeah, once he saw piper, he went wild. caused more chaos in five minutes than he did in five days!"

you laugh, the nervousness falling away as you recount the story of you first meeting with piper.

people are staring at the pajama-clad avenger and his soulmate, their geese finally satisfied. after all, it wasn't every day so many people were able to watch soulmate geese (and their people) meet for the first time.

sam gently took your hand, his thumb smoothing the skin on the back of it, just listening to you talk. you asked him a question about whitewing and he was in the middle of telling you when he cut himself off. "i just realized i don't even know your name!"

in most scenarios you’d be slightly put off by this, but you didn't have an issue because of the specific circumstances. if he weren't an avenger you wouldn't have known his either, and plus, no one really pays attention to the little rat writers. you give him your name and smile when he introduces himself, his voice even helping show off the brightest smile you’ve ever seen.

with impeccable goose timing, piper and whitewing honk at you to hurry your introductions and leave the studio.

"do you want to fly back to your place , or can I drive you?" it was a risk to ask him such a question, but you were genuinely concerned. you hoped he wouldn't think you were trying to jump his bones only minutes after meeting him so you used (terrible) humor to show your intentions. "you shouldn't fly so late at night without headlights, no matter how high up you get."

sam’s laughter was infectious and soon you joined him, your geese about to get more irritated with their humans.

"yeah, I'd like that. lead the way, soulmate." piper and whitewing honk as the two of you head to the lobby hand in hand, the birds waddling behind you just as happy as soulmate geese could be.

[loopsforlupin]

A Yes That Changed the World

      Sirius was sixteen when he decided he could take no more. Walburga and Orion were going to kill him. They were. Sirius was sure of it. His mother’s gaze was even colder then usual, and his father, well he had always just ignored his sons, but now Sirius could swear he had seen his father reach for his dagger that he always kept on him, only to stop right before he touched it. They were furious with him. No longer was he the silent lamb they could lead around by the rope, and force their opinions down his throat. No he was a Gryffindor, he was loud, he was opinionated. He spoke out against the dark lord, flaunted his friendships with muggle-borns and half-bloods, he proudly stated what he thought of the supposed “Dark Lord”. For every rebellion, he was beat. He was crucio’d. He was threatened with everything from disownment, to being lead before Voldemort himself for his impudence. Nothing broke Sirius’s will, made him submit to his mother’s cruel desires. Sirius’s body was in a constant state of pain, his cuts and bruises stinging and bleeding randomly throughout the day. Sirius hid how bad he was feeling. He’d give them nothing, couldn’t let them see his flinches, or how badly he was feeling with every step. There was only one thing that kept Sirius from leaving. 

      Regulus. How could he leave his baby brother with them? The tiny baby, who had been thought to weak to live, who had grown up to be a fragile toddler, who his mother had told him to protect. His baby. A tiny toddler with long black curls, who clutched Sirius’s robes and whose first word was “Siri”. Sirius had raised the boy. Had shown him how to walk quietly in the shadows, to avoid their parent’s wrath. Had taught him table manners by the age of two, so that their mother couldn’t sting his hands when he reached for the wrong fork. Sirius’s baby, who learned French and Russian, at the same time he learned English, because their mother had many French friends, and their father had Russian business partners, and it was only proper to be able to speak to their guests in a language they understood. Sirius’s baby brother who could recite the proper pure-blood etiquette word for word, and was the “proper son”, the “ proper Pure-blood”. Sirius had done everything he could to ensure his brother would never gain the wrath of his parents. Surely, now that his brother was nearly of age, surely Sirius could be selfish. Right?  

      It was late at night, long after his mother and father had went to bed, that Sirius finally recovered enough to leave. His mother had punished him severely for his “lack of respect”, because Sirius had commended his cousin Andromeda for running off. Because he had the gall to celebrate her marriage to a “no good, waste of magic mudblood”. Sirius’s cousins, Bellatrix and Narcissa and their parents had been over for a “Family gathering”. Bellatrix had mentioned her sister’s “plight into insanity” and lamented that a once proud member had fallen so far from grace. Sirius had snorted, and looking his insane cousin in the eyes, had stated that Bella should be well familiar with insanity. That hadn’t won him any laughs, and instead resulted in his current situation. His ribs were broken, and if he had to judge, based on the sharp excruciating pain emitting from his left arm, so was his forearm. Regulus had been sent to his room, and Kreacher had been instructed to ensure that the room was sound proofed. The demented elf was all to eager to follow his mother’s order, Regulus had looked scared, and almost like he was going to argue. Sirius shook his head slowly, Regulus didn’t look entirely convinced so Sirius mouthed: “Go, go!” The following couple of hours were mostly lost in the haze of pain. He thinks he remembers his mother’s cold laugh as he cried. His father’s harsh voice yelling hexes and curses so quickly that even Sirius’s naturally beater instincts were unable to dodge the colored spells coming his way. The punishment went on for hours, well into the night. 

      Now his body was yelling at Sirius. No more, it seemed to beg. He knew then, if he stayed, the next time they punished him, it would be his death. His own parents would kill him, and in his mother’s case at least, would laugh as he died an agonizing death. With every ounce of will he had left, Sirius forced himself up, and into his room. A flick of his wand had everything he wanted packed flying into his trunk which he shrunk and placed in his back pocket. He looked around one last time at his childhood room. The posters he had stuck to his walls in an effort to piss of his parents. It pleased him greatly that even when he left, his mother and father would not be able to entirely erase him from their home. Two pictures caught his attention, one of his friends at Hogwarts, their faces laughing and smiling at him from the wall. The other one a picture of his brother and him, when Regulus was younger, and Sirius was in his Hogwarts robes. His brother was clutching Sirius’s robes, his knuckles white and tensed at least to Sirius’s trained eyes. This was the last photo his mother had willingly included him in, and it was bittersweet, because Regulus was losing his brother for the year, and Sirius was about to puke from the anxiety of how he was going to be sorted. It was their eyes that Sirius noticed, both of their eyes were filled with fear. Sirius couldn’t help but remember how after they had hugged one last time, that Sirius had whispered in his baby brother’s ears to remember everything he had taught him, to behave to not make waves, to survive until Sirius was home again to protect him. Regulus had been scared but told Sirius he would try. Then Sirius had been a Gryffindor, had made friends for the first time in his life, had learned to have his own opinion, to think for himself. And from then on, Sirius was the enemy. Sirius wanted the picture, it may be the last reminder he every had of his brother. So with careful hands, he cut the wall behind the picture and stuck that in his pocket. 

      Sirius shut his bedroom door, and made his way to the door he knew almost as well as his own. He didn’t open the door, he stopped in front of it and debated. Should he wake his brother to say goodbye? Would Regulus try to rat him out? Would Regulus miss him as much as Sirius would miss him? Sirius was torn, he wanted to say goodbye, but he didn’t want to have the last memory of his brother being an argument. He had just decided to move on when the door in front of him cracked open. Sleepy slate grey eyes, peered up at him from the fragile face of his baby brother. Sirius didn’t dare to breathe. Regulus looked up at him, his eyes narrowing as he took in his brother’s attire. Sirius was wearing his favored leather jacket, jeans and his black boots. In all, it was his normal bike riding outfit. 

      “You’re leaving.” Regulus stated, his eyes slowly losing what little warmth had resided in the grey orbs. Sirius didn’t think he could physically respond, so he nodded; his head bobbing slowly just once. Regulus pulled the door open wider. 

     “Where will you go?” Sirius paused. He hadn’t actually thought it out to much, just ran on the instinct to leave as quickly as he could. 

    “Probably the Potter’s. James will let me crash for a day or two I’m sure. Then I guess I have to find a flat somewhere.” Regulus looked into Sirius’s eyes, trying to find something. Sirius was unsure what exactly his brother hoped to find, but he kept his expression sincere, he would not lie to his brother.  Regulus soon looked resigned, his face falling. 

    “I guess this is goodbye then. I wish you well Sirius.” Sirius couldn’t breathe. Here was his baby brother, who he had raised, and loved and taught how to survive their unloving and cruel parents, formerly wishing him well, like they were schoolmates who barely knew each other. And Regulus was shutting the door, his baby brother was going to close the door, and that was the last time Sirius would see Regulus. 

    “Come with me!” Sirius blurted out, his voice barely above a whisper, but his tone urgent and panicked. “Come with me Reg!” 

     Regulus stopped his action and looked at his brother. His protector. His sanity in a house full of shadows, abuse, and anger. The lion born from a pit of snakes, who roared his opinion, even when everyone around him demanded silence. His brother who took the brunt of his parent’s anger and hatred, and protected him, was standing in front of him now, telling Regulus that he was leaving, and asking him to go with him. Regulus was fourteen years old and he knew this was a defining moment of his life. If he said no, Sirius was leaving, and he would be alone in this hateful house. Regulus would have no brave lion to shield him from his mother’s anger, or to curb his father’s wrath. Regulus would most likely be pushed into becoming a follower of Voldemort. He would stand on the opposite side of his brother. Or Regulus could say yes. But what would happen to them?  No house? No family title? They would be starting from the very bottom, but Regulus would have his brother. Sirius would protect him, of this Regulus was certain. He was so sure of this in fact that Regulus found he had no good reason to stay. His entire family was in front of him right now offering to take him away from all the horrors in this house. 

      It stunned both boys when Regulus nodded his head slowly once. Then speed up as if he believed Sirius would change his mind and leave him there alone. Sirius’s heart pounded in his chest, and his lungs sucked in a greedy gulp of air. His brother said yes. HIS BROTHER SAID YES! Sirius wasn’t losing his whole family, he was keeping the most important part with him. Sirius grinned at his brother and pushed open the door to the room. Whispering for Regulus to grab his wand, and to stand back Sirius entered the room. He whispered a command to get dressed, and to keep one jacket out. Sirius began to prepare his brother to leave. A flick of his wand, had the entire contents of his brother’s closest getting packed into the trunk. Any lose books, quills, or papers also flew into the trunk as well as When everything was packed away, Sirius took one of Regulus’s formal jackets, and transfigured it into a leather styled jacket like his own. Seeing Regulus’s confused expression, Sirius grinned, the kind of grin that James and Remus would have realized meant terrible trouble. 

     “Trust me Reg, gets a bit cold traveling my way.” Another flick of his wand shrunk his brother’s trunk, which he carefully tucked into his brother’s pocket. Together to the two brothers snuck their way down and out of their childhood home for the last time. Neither of them looked back, the only thing they would have regretted leaving was beside them. Once they were quite a ways away from their old home, Sirius stopped Regulus, looked around to ensure no body was near, before he pulled a chain around his neck out from underneath his shirt revealing a motorcycle charm. With a tap of his wand, the charm grew and grew and grew until an oversized motorcycle sat in front of the brothers. A black helmet with gold embellishments, hung on the handlebars. Regulus gulped. His brother had to be kidding. They couldn’t ride this thing to the Potter’s! Sirius grinned knowing his brother’s thoughts based on his face. 

     “Come on Reg! Time to get going. Hop on after me okay. Make sure your trunk is tight in your pocket. Alright?”  Regulus nodded his head still shocked. Sirius went to pull on his helmet before he stopped. He leaned down and looked at the rocks nearby before grabbing one the size of his palm. Another tap of his wand, and he held a dark green helmet with silver details sat in his hand. 

    “Safety first Reg. Gotta have a helmet to ride Gryff.” Regulus put the helmet on, waited until his brother was seated before climbing on himself. He wrapped his arms tight around his brother’s waist. Sirius double checked that Reg was secure before he started the engine. It growled to life, before settling into a deep purr. Soon enough, Sirius and Regulus were roaring down the road the wind whipping their jackets and chilling them through to their cores. When Sirius thought they were well into the country, and therefore far enough away from prying eyes, he turned his head just enough to catch Regulus’s attention. 

     “ Hold on tight, now’s the fun part!” With no other warning, Sirius pushed a button on his handlebars, and suddenly the brothers were soaring into the sky. Regulus clutched him self tighter to his brother. Sirius let out a laugh, and took them higher, and higher until they were covered by a thin layer of clouds, for any muggle out and about at this time of night. They stayed in the cover of the clouds mostly, only dropping down for a second or two to ensure they were heading in the right direction. Sirius’s wand was occasionally pulled out and a “Point-Me” charm was used. They flew for a while, close to an hour, before Sirius yelled back to his brother again. 

      “Going to land! Hold on tight and lean when I do!” Regulus shouted back an okay, and the bike began to descend. Riding the motorcycle was different from a broom, definitely different from a broom. The descent took a little longer than their liftoff, but soon enough the brothers were lading in a secluded area outside of a beautiful manor house. It was gorgeous. Sirius pulled up to the gates, tapped them with his wand, and passed through them with ease. The pathway leading to the house lit up with their approach, little orbs of light lit up the cobble stone pathway. Eventually they reached the circle drive in front of the manor, where Sirius parked the bike. Regulus got off first, his legs feeling kind of unstable as he stood up for the first time in about an hour. Sirius also got off and stood up, stretching his muscles. With a grin, Sirius wrapped his arm around his baby brother and pulled him up to the steps to the grand door. 

    Unabashed, Sirius banged on the door. His face was bruised, his lips were split, but Sirius was smiling like a loon. His brother was beside him, and his other brother was behind the wooden doors, along with parents who loved and shared instead of shaming and hating. With a quiet creak the big doors were open, to reveal a tiny little creature with floppy ears. Sirius’s grin grew even bigger. He kneeled down and looked at the small creature. 

     “Master Siri? Master Siri hurt?!” “Wotcher Bindy! Think you can get James for me?” The elf nodded and popped away with barely a snap. Sirius turned to his brother, still standing awkwardly and sort of shivering, and flashed him a bright grin. Regulus couldn’t help but send a small grin back, they were together, and that was all that really mattered now. A minute passed before another small popping sound was heard and a shirtless, sleepy looking James was standing at the door, his wand pointed at them. His eyes were still sleepy looking but alert enough to be suspicious. Sirius situated himself in front of his brother, who was a little shocked to see the Gryffindor chaser shirtless and holding a wand on him. 

      “ What prank did I play on Lily Evans in second year?” Sirius grinned doggishly and stood up straight his posture relaxed and sure. 

    “You put a skin-color changing potion in her pumpkin juice, you made her a brilliant scarlet color but changed her hair to gold. Then you called her the Gryffindor Lioness for the next month. She hexed you twelve times.” James relaxed, and rubbed his eyes tiredly. 

      “Dammit Pads. What you doing on my doorstep at four in the bloody morning?” James looked at Sirius more closely, and seemed to finally realize that Regulus was there. Interestingly enough, he seemed to become self-conscious, reaching up and crossing his arms over his chest before acknowledging Regulus. “Uhh, hey Regulus.” An awkward little wave followed. Regulus grinned. Potter was an awkward dork. Regulus grinned and waved back over Sirius’s shoulder. 

     “Hey yourself Potter.” Regulus grinned like a shark, his teeth flashing white in the dim light. Sirius grew tired of being ignored as the other two dark haired boys looked at each other.        “Prongs, you gonna leave us standing in the cold?” That snapped James out of his stupor, and he sheepishly gestured them into his home. Both Black brothers sighed in relief, the feeling of warmth seeping into their bones a welcome sensation after the cold wind whipping at them on their journey. 

      James led them into the kitchen the whole way fussing over Sirius. He had finally realized that his friend was injured, and had began to act like a mother hen which he normally is. Sirius took all the fussing in stride, barely baiting an eye as James forced him into a chair. James called for Bindy, asking her to gather bandages, potions, and to wake his mother. Sirius did start to fuss at that last part.

     “Prongs! Don’t wake your mother for this. I can wait ‘til morning! Seriously Bindy don’t wake Mrs. Potter, I’m fine.” His voice was actually distressed at the idea of waking Mrs. Potter, causing Regulus to tense. Would Mrs. Potter treat them the same way their own mother did? Would she punish Sirius for coming to her home so late? 

    “Pads don’t be daft! You’ve got a broken arm!! I can’t fix that by myself. We need her. Bindy go wake my mother please.” Bindy popped away quickly, her own face worried as she looked at the Black heir. Sirius didn’t seem convinced, but he stopped protesting. His shoulders were still tense though, and his eyes shifted around to look at all the possible exits. Regulus tensed even more. Sirius had driven them here? With a broken arm? He had known his brother was strong, but this was next level of strength.  James having done all he could for Sirius turned his attention to Regulus. His eyes seemed nervous, but he stepped closer to him. 

     “Regulus, do you have any injuries?” James’s eyes seemed to stare through Regulus’s clothes, as if he was mentally undressing him, and imagining all the worst bruises he had seen on Sirius on Regulus’s slender frame. 

      “I’m perfectly fine Heir Potter. Sirius taught me to avoid their wrath from a young age.” James flinched at the formal title his eyes dulling even as a small smile flitted on his lips. 

      “Good, I’m glad you were safe. I’m also glad that Sirius brought you here. No body deserves to be left alone with those... those.... those MONSTERS.” James’s face made it clear that the word monster was inadequate to describe what he thought of the Black parents. Regulus just smiled, tilting his head to the side. James Potter was a strange person. He defended Sirius because they were friends, but why was he so concerned about Regulus? James seemed a little in awe from Regulus’s smile, meeting it with a wry grin of his own.

      The sound of the kitchen door opening broke the little spell Regulus was under. Mrs. Potter was a slightly older woman, but she moved quick as a whip. She was next to Sirius in the time it took Regulus to blink. Her wand was out and she was casting diagnostic spells. Her voice was slightly lower than his mother’s, but it was infused with a sense of warmth. She was muttering spells as she moved, and also fussing over his brother at the same time. Sirius’s face was an interesting color of red, as the matronly woman fussed over him. 

      “Oh you dear boy! What did that horrible woman do to you! You’re black and blue! And that arm! How in Merlin’s name did you travel here with a broken arm! You stubborn boy! You’re lucky you didn’t hurt yourself worse! Wait until I get Fleamont up, flying across the sky on that bike of yours no less! With a broken arm! I ought to to tie you to your bed for your own health! Between you boys I’m not sure who’s going to make me grey!” 

     James was laughing, as his mother was fussing. Sirius was a brilliant red color now, his eyes wide as he watched the matronly woman. He lifted limbs, and moved as she instructed. He barely flinched when she healed his arm, was practically motionless as she then strapped it into a sling to help. He did nothing until she was finished, and she planted a kiss to his forehead, when she moved he looked desperately at James, who was to busy laughing to notice his friend’s distress. 

      Mrs. Potter then turned her attention towards the only other boy in her kitchen. He was a slender thing. His hair not quite long, but definitely shaggy. His eyes were so similar to his brother’s only instead of lighting up with mirth, those grey eyes tracked her movements. She stopped about two steps away from him, her wand clearly in his sight. She noticed that while his face was unreadable, his shoulders had tensed and his eyes shifted to find his brother. He was scared. Unbeknownst to her, Sirius had caught Reg’s eyes and had nodded. She was to be trusted. 

     “Hello dear. My name is Euphemia Potter, but you can call me Effie. Do you need any healing as well? I can’t imagine our Sirius-” here she looked over at the still red faced boy with a motherly smile, “-Let anyone raise a wand to you. But you never know dear.” She turned her attention back to him. Her eyes were hazel like her sons, but where James’s were usually warm and full of laughter, her eyes were full of motherly affection. It was a sight he was unfamiliar with but his heart welcomed immensely. 

     “No ma’am. I’m fine. Like you said, Sirius never let me get injured.” Regulus gave his brother a shy smile, which his brother returned eagerly. Effie looked at Regulus with a mock stern expression. 

    “None of this Ma’am business. Effie I insist. Or if you really feel the need to be formal, Euphemia. Ma’am makes me feel old, and while I’m no spring chick, I refuse to the old hen.”  

      Sirius and James both chuckled, while Regulus grinned. 

      “Euphemia then. Thank you for letting my brother and I into your home. We appreciate your hospitality.” Regulus took her hand and kissed the back of it. 

      Euphemia chuckled, as she curtsied in response. 

      “My aren’t you a little charmer. Sirius! You could learn a thing or two from this young man.” Sirius grinned, his face finally returning to it’s normal pale color. 

      “Nah Effie, who do you think you taught him how to charm the ladies!” Sirius then glanced at James and muttered something under his breath. If Regulus had been closer he would have heard the muttered “And some blokes apparently.” But Regulus was too far to hear the comment that made James turn into a beet root red, but he was close enough to appreciate the way James looked when he was embarrassed. 

    Effie’s laugh tinkled in the room, making all three boys smile. She then called for Bindy to make some tea and some snacks for “her three boys”. Regulus and Sirius both perked up at being included, making James’s heart ache for how starved for family both young boys were. After a quick cuppa and a snack of fairy cakes, the three boys were lead up to their bedrooms. Sirius was placed in the bedroom he utilized when he stayed with the Potter’s for breaks, and Regulus was placed in the room across from his. James told Sirius he would raid his closet for a set of pajamas for the pair of brothers. 

       James returned from his closet with two pairs of pajamas. One set included a white, long sleeve shirt made out of a soft material, and a pair of sleep pants with little gold snitches on them. The other set wasn’t actually sleep wear, but instead was an old black hoodie paired with some grey sweatpants. To Sirius he threw the sweatshirt and sweatpants. He shyly held out his other offering.

        “Here. I don’t know if they’ll fit too well, but since you play quidditch I thought you’d like these. The other pairs.... are a little more Gryffindor colored. I didn’t think you’d appreciate wearing red and gold.” Regulus took the bundle of clothes, noticing that the clothes smelled like James. An interesting mix of spicy and cool, a pleasant mix of cinnamon or cloves, mixed with something citrusy, as well as something that Regulus couldn’t help but describe as warm.  

     “Thanks Potter. These will do great. Loads better than sleeping in a button down and jeans.” James smiled at him again, making a peculiar sensation take hold of Regulus’s stomach, and lower regions. Something to think about later he thought wryly. 

     The boys split up, with the Black brother’s changing into their borrowed clothes. They met up again in James’s room. Sirius, while smaller than James, filled out the clothes quite nicely, with only certain areas being baggy. Regulus however was basically swimming in James’s clothes. The drawstring on the pants, the only thing keeping them up on his slender waist. James upon seeing Regulus swimming in his clothes, had his eyes wide, and kept nervously biting and licking his lips. He also kept crossing his arms and uncrossing them as the boys chatted before bed.

    Regulus wished his brother goodnight, and turned to James. Looking up from under his lashes, he bid the Potter heir a goodnight, before thanking him again. James stuttered out a welcome and attempted to say goodnight as Regulus walked over to his own room. Right before Regulus closed the door, he swore he heard his brother say something along the lines of:

     “Merlin James, that was more awkward then you trying to flirt with Evans!” 

 To which he swore he heard James respond: 

     “ Shove of Pads! You’re no better when you try to flirt with Moony!” 

      As Regulus prepared for bed, he heard the other boys descend into a small argument, which consisted of various insults about the other’s inability to flirt, or their general lack of intelligence. It wasn’t until Euphemia shouted for them to settle down and go to sleep did they finally fall quiet. 

     For the first time in the twelve years that he could consciously remember, Regulus Black fell asleep knowing that when he woke up his brother would be safe, and they wouldn’t have to see their parent’s over the breakfast table. Sleep pulled heavily on Regulus’s eyes, until he fell into a deep slumber, where Regulus dreamed of hazel eyes laughing, a cheeky grin against tanned skin, and his brother’s infectious laughter surrounding him. It was the beginning of a whole chapter in their lives. 

[secretlittlerandezvous]

Evermore - Jamie Benn

Summary: Back in summer 2013 Jamie ends his relationship with Y/n. Seven years later they run to each other on the street and both of them wonder what would happen if they tried to get back together.

Words: 2964

“We've been here before, you and me together. And we will again. Somewhere somehow we'll meet again.” - Leohearts on Tumblr

End of 2013

Y/n forgot about the time on July 22 at 5:33 pm. That was when her whole life fell apart and her world turned upside down. That was the moment he broke up with her and left her alone, confused and broken. It seemed so easy for him to walk away and forget about their love, but for Y/n it was a heartbreak she’s never experienced before. She was hurting, but everyone around her kept moving forward, life went on and on and Y/n stayed stuck in place. Summer ended as quickly as it came, the leaves turned brown and fell from the trees in the blink of an eye, Halloween passed and Thanksgiving was near but she didn’t acknowledge it and refused to make plans and she decided to stay home alone and cry. She didn’t want anyone to see her because the breakup seemed to take away all of her confidence and she feared everyone would look at her and think “what a fool, she thought she was going to get a fairytale ending with her hockey player prince”. As if the breakup put her in a bad light, as if it meant she wasn’t worthy of the love and the good company of her friends. The only reason she got out of bed every morning was her job that she didn’t enjoy anymore and for every minute she spent there she prayed for the end so she could go home and curl up in bed. No one saw her smile, no one heard her laugh, she stopped joining her colleagues for lunch and she avoided every conversation. She spent most days in her bed, crying and screaming whenever she needed to, and kept replaying every moment before the breakup to find the one where she went wrong. Maybe one day she’d find the mistake and it’d give her a fair chance of avoiding it the next time she’s in a relationship. Because what if it truly was all her fault? What if she ruined it? On the other days, she wrote letters, sometimes to Jamie, sometimes to herself just to get her thoughts out of her mind, and sometimes she stared at the blank paper and didn’t write a single word. All letters ended up in fire the moment she finished writing them.

Y/n used to believe she wasn’t the type of person who lets a heartbreak ruin her life but the end of her and Jamie’s love story had a bigger impact on her than she expected. She kept repeating to herself it was just a breakup, just a guy, just a temporary feeling but nothing could ease her pain. The pain was so overwhelming she was sure it would last for evermore.

The situation significantly changed in December. With all the Christmas decorations, songs, and movies that followed her everywhere, it was hard not to feel the joy. Suddenly she started craving the company of others and started hanging out with all her friends whenever there was a chance, sometimes she walked around the city on her own, she shopped for gifts and before she realized it, she was being her old self again; happy and cheerful. Her attitude towards the breakup changed as well although it highly depended on her mood each day. When Y/n felt good and confident, she wondered what she was even fighting for. For a relationship that ended weeks before he said it out loud? For a man who got so disgustingly comfortable in their relationship and took her for granted? On days like this, she refused to blame herself. On the days when she wasn’t in a good mood, she still cried a little and some doubts returned. But no matter what day she was having she knew now she was going to get through it.

Jamie on the other hand was doing better than ever before. He felt free to do whatever he wanted, he could go out and party all night every night, he had a different girl in his bed every time he went out, there was no one holding him back. In September he was named the sixth captain of the Dallas Stars, the new season started, and he felt like he owned the world. He had everything he ever wanted. But most of his old friends could hardly recognize him. He was the opposite of who he used to be. Cocky and foolish. Jamie naturally refused it and insisted on his truth: he was still the same person. Everyone could see how lost he was without Y/n, they saw it long before Jamie did. Jamie believed he was happy, however the breaking point came in December, just around Christmas. All his teammates were getting ready to spend the holidays with their wives and kids, girlfriends, and families, they all had someone to go to, someone who would greet them at home. But Jamie returned to an empty apartment every night and he started missing Y/n singing in the shower, her silly dance moves while she prepared the food, or her sleeping peacefully while he was about to leave for the morning skate. He missed her face and her voice and her support and love. Everything that he took for granted. He got overly comfortable and believed she would stay by his side no matter what.

And so, while Y/n started to feel better, Jamie started to feel the consequences of their breakup and the pain of all the things he lost.

Presence

Another horrible date, another idiot her friends set her up with. Another wasted day and time and a wasted outfit on someone who didn’t deserve it, not even a tiny bit. Y/n felt comfortable with being single, but her friends believed it was time for her to start seeing someone again. Since her brokeup with Jamie, she only had one longer relationship that lasted for almost three years. But that was three years ago and since then she only went on dates, but she was never satisfied with anyone. And unlike her friends, she already gave up on the hope of ever finding her soulmate.

On her way home, Y/n decided to take the longer route home to properly clear her mind and get some fresh air she so desperately needed. It was late spring, and the weather was nicely warm, the trees were green, and flowers bloomed around the sidewalk. Her mood was significantly decreased by that idiot her friends believed he could be the one, but she still couldn’t resist to smile as she looked around herself. New life always began with spring for her. And as she looked around, she noticed a familiar figure standing just across the street. A tall, muscular figure, dark hair, and tattoos covering his arms, the way he posed as he stood still. Y/n froze in place when she realized it was truly him, her heart started beating faster and she debated with herself whether she should quickly leave or continue walking and go to him to say hi. She then smiled even brightly and with confidence went to him. After all, there was no grudge against him anymore, no anger or pain, no need to cause a scene. She was at peace and she was now able to look back to 7 years ago and feel joy from all the memories she had of him and them together.

Jamie as if he knew felt a familiar presence behind him and slowly turned around. He didn’t expect to see anyone, and he believed it was just a random feeling but there she was. She was more beautiful than he remembered, her hair was longer, her face more mature now but the smile and bright eyes didn’t change at all. Panic took over Jamie when he realized she was heading his way and he wanted to run away. He wasn’t quite ready to face her because even after 7 years he couldn’t believe he made the mistake of letting her go. He knew now she was the love of his life and foolishly he let her go and he couldn’t believe his stupidity and naivety he was better off alone. What was going to happen now? Was he going to meet her on a beautiful spring day with the birds singing, trees blooming and the sunshine warming up his skin and learn some awful truth? What if she was on her way to pick up her children from kindergarten or school? What if he was about to learn she’s happily married and has everything she ever wanted? Of course, he would be happy for her but the selfish side of him couldn’t accept she would have that with someone else and that he was going to spend the rest of his life searching for her in some other girl and then die unhappy and alone.

“Hey there stranger,” her sweet voice brought him back to reality from his thoughts and sent shivers down his spine. It was like seeing a ghost.

“Y/n!” He breathed out and without thinking, he took a step closer to her, wrapped his hands around her, and gently picked her up. Y/n closed her eyes and let herself get lost in the moment and enjoyed his touch, his strong hands around her body, his beard slightly scratching her soft skin, his cologne, and the nostalgia. Jamie did the same, his heart was beating fast and he knew he would have trouble with letting her go once again. “How are you?” He asked as he put her back on her feet, unwillingly and full of fear he would never get to do this again.

“I’m good,” she said confidently. “Really good. I was just on a date.” She laughed.

“A date huh?” He said raising his eyebrow hoping she would give him more details.

“Yeah,” she nodded. Y/n knew she should’ve told him it was a bad date and that the guy was an idiot but Jamie was the last person she wanted to talk to about it and after all, he didn’t need to know anything about her personal life anyway. “But let’s not talk about that. How are you, Jamie? I’m so happy to see you!”

“I’m good too! Things are great with hockey and everything, you know? Couldn’t ask for more I guess.”

The two fell into a silence that was far from comfortable. They randomly and shyly looked at each other from time to time desperately trying to figure out what to say next. After so many years, after all the pain and moving on what could two people possibly talk about? They were done with the small talk and although neither one of them wanted to part ways just yet, they had no idea what to talk about. Y/n deep down knew meeting him would cause some damage, it would bring back some bad memories and possibly even pain and it would certainly leave her wondering what could’ve been if he didn’t end their relationships. Jamie wanted to grab her hand and never let go because he knew now without a single doubt that it was the biggest mistake of his life to let her go and even after seven years he didn’t fully move on.

“I should probably head home,” Y/n whispered unsurely.

“No! Don’t go, not yet,” Jamie said quickly. “We haven’t seen each other for so long we can catch up a little, grab a coffee or something and talk.”

“Jamie,” she said, rubbing the back of her head as always when she found herself in an uncomfortable situation. “I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Look, after the breakup I was not doing good and it took me so long to get over you. And just seeing you here in front of me is hard because it’s making me realize that it never faded, you know? Something’s still there, some feeling, and I can’t risk getting my heart broken again.” It took all her strength to say it out loud but she had it rehearsed in her mind for such a long time. After the breakup, Y/n often imagined running into him on the street and this was the speech she prepared and memorized.

Jamie knew this was coming, he deserved it. He deserved to know how much he hurt her and how much he screwed up. He had no illusions about himself anymore, for a few years now, he admitted to himself he was arrogant to everyone around him. But what for? It was probably too late. A girl like her, so kind and beautiful, funny and supportive couldn’t be alone.

“I know.” He nodded and looked away. He couldn’t bear looking at her, but he wasn’t gonna give up just yet. “Y/n, I know I made a terrible mistake and I’ve been regretting it for so long and if I had the chance, I would take it back. I was stupid, selfish and I took you for granted. I know it! But I also know that if you gave me a chance, I would be better this time.” This was the first time Jamie shamelessly and bravely admitted his feelings. He was never good with words, expressing his emotions, and avoided it as much as he could but 7 years was a long time to think and to change himself for the woman he loved. In the end, this was probably his only chance.

“I can’t Jamie, I’m sorry, I can’t do this again,” tears appeared in her eyes as she said the last word but she still found some courage to fight it back and smiled at Jamie before she walked away praying he won’t go after her. And he didn’t.

A couple of days later

A few days later Y/n found herself confused about her feelings for Jamie and she couldn’t stop thinking about him. He still had her wrapped around his finger. All these years of moving on and believing she was over him were destroyed. She thought deeply and constantly, wrote dozens of reasons why it’s not a good idea and why she could give him another chance, she cried, tried to forget, talk about it with her friends. But nothing worked. The memory of him kept coming back to her even in her dreams and ever since she ran into him she had a few dreams about the meeting, about their life together, and even a dream of their breakup. She was screwed once again.

“So, what you’re gonna do about it?” Y/n’s friend finally asked after the curiosity took over her. “I mean you’re thinking about him, right?”

“Of course, I am thinking about him! How could I not? It’s been 7 years and I was over him, over us and then I meet him for a few minutes, and he messes me up like this? What am I supposed to do now?” Y/n yelled out. Deep down she already knew what to do but didn’t want to admit it to anyone. Not even herself.

“Whatever you decide to do, I know it’ll be the right thing,” the friend smiled at her warmly.

That night Y/n couldn’t sleep. She kept tossing and turning in her bed, she tried to read a book, watch a movie, listen to a podcast but nothing could put her to sleep. The decision she made deep down haunted her because she knew if it was a bad one it would end in a total disaster and she wasn’t sure if she would survive it the second time around. And so, the next day she decided to go see Jamie in person and clean up the air.

Y/n arrived to the American Airlines Center early in the morning hoping she would find Jamie there. When they were dating, he liked to go there before anyone else arrived to have time for himself and Y/n hoped this habit didn’t change and she would find him on the ice.

“I hoped I’d find you here,” she said with relief when she spotted Jamie on the ice all by himself. “Some habits just don’t change huh?”

“Y/n!” Jamie said with surprised face. He was lost in his thoughts and didn’t notice her standing just a few feet away from him. It brought back so many memories of her coming with him to early morning skates, to his games, or when they sneaked in at night and skated until the late hours of the night. It reminded him of her smile and excitement, he heard her laugh and saw the sparkles in her eyes. “What you’re doing here?”

“I’ve been thinking about what you said the last time we saw each other,” Y/n admitted. “And I came to the conclusion that I might survive giving you or perhaps giving us a second chance.” She smiled at Jamie and then quickly stopped as she realized he could’ve changed his mind and not want her back anymore. “If you still want that.”

Jamie’s face lit up immediately after she finished talking. He hoped and prayed for a second chance and he knew that if he was gonna get it he would make sure to treat Y/n right and appreciate her as he should’ve. He then quickly skated to Y/n and stood in front of her with hope and happiness visible on his face. “I promise I won’t make any stupid mistakes this time.”

“You will make stupid mistakes,” Y/n giggled. “Just don’t ever let me go again.”

“I won’t, I promise you that.”

“Then it’s for evermore,” Y/n whispered and kissed Jamie. And it was right. It felt right. They belonged together.

[hexalene]

What's your wildest cruise ship story?

Oh shit I meant to post this sooner whoops

Uh

I have less “ONE BIG THING” stories and more of like, a series of surreal Events that happened to me over the course of the years and years I went on cruises (my family could go on cruises for free, so we abused the shit out of that for reunions and vacations for a long time)

So here’s a few of those, and I SWEAR TO GOD they’re real, and I might have photos buried somewhere to prove some of them, but idk, that’s like effort.

-I loved wandering around ships super super early in the morning. Like, crack of dawn early. I’d usually go hang out on one of the open floor restaurant areas around the middle of the ship, which had built in window seats you could curl up in. Pillows n shit too. Super comfy. I’d draw and listen to music, ect. One morning, I looked up and saw the Black fucking Pearl from Pirates of the Caribbean sailing by. Did not believe my eyes. It and four other ships, two of which were for non-pirate movies, were being sailed into a bay on the island we were headed to. I did manage to get a distant shot of it when I got on land.

-In 2006 (date relevant) I met two men in two different families, who were not related and had never met, named Tony Stark. As this was before the movie came out, I was left tragically alone with no one to be awed at this strange coincidence with me. One of them was even a dark haired man with a nice goatee.

(The other was a cute chubby grandpa type)

-Given the opportunity to demonstrate how corporations rig the system against the consumer, my father brought me down to the casino level and sat down across from a very fancy claw machine that dispensed iPads and other expensive tech prizes. He told me, “some people will win, and I’ll tell you when they will.”

I was like “okay dad sure” but we sat there for HOURS, and dad would say “okay, this guy will win if he goes for this prize” or “this guy will lose” and finally, “that woman will win an iPad.” Of course, most were losers, but he was DEAD ON every time someone would win. After a while he explained that the machine would only dispense prizes after collecting the money to pay for two more of whatever was won. He’d just sat there and done the math on the people playing the game and when it added up, he’d wait to see what they went for and let me know if they won. It had absolutely nothing to do with skill.

To make his point, he waited, counting out loud the money being put in, before standing up and slapping the button randomly on one of the lower rank prizes. He won an otter box phone case and told me that no one will ever give you the chance to win out at a loss to themselves, so don’t make a bet unless you’ve rigged the game to win. I was 14.

-uhhh what else

-The dance troupe arranged to do shows suffered a tragic undisclosed accident, so the short term bullshit to entertain people in the theatre was an honest to god passenger led talent show. Surreal on its own, but one of the passengers was a contortionist, and ran off to get their suitcase.

Now, they did a lot of fun bendy stuff, very weird, very cool, but they asked for volunteers at one point. I, my sister, our cousin, and two other kids were asked to come on stage. I was the oldest, maybe 12/13ish, my sister and cousin were 9, and the other two kids were between 6-9.

This MADMAN, without straining any of us to bend in any weird or uncomfortable way, managed to fit all five of us into his empty suitcase. I was in the damn thing and I have no idea how he managed it. He then zipped us all up inside and walked around the stage a bit. And it was fine, like not uncomfortable or hard to breath or anything!

I remember getting out of the suitcase clearest of all. We’d all been fit inside so snugly, in this order:

Me, stranger kid 1, cousin, sister, and stranger kid 2. To get us out, he lay the case flat and lifted my sister up. Somehow this like??? Was like those monkey in a barrel toys, we all just neatly unfolded with her, no tripping or falling or anything. That feeling, where one moment I’m staring at my cousins’ feet and some other kid’s elbow, and then I see the dude lift my sister and then all of us just RISE WITH IT and unfold like a flower blooming I have no idea if this makes any sense at all but it felt magical.

- Something bad happened back home, but we didn’t know what. My dad had a business meeting but mom wanted to see the beach. We got off the ship, and like, HARDCORE struggled to find a way to get to a beach, any beach. We were in....Mexico, somewhere in the neighborhood of Chichén Itzá, maybe an island nearby I think? There were some massive ruins somewhere, I remember that much.

While mom hunted down a beach, my siblings and I sat under a giant box fan, near a TV. Something was happening, the employees were changing the channel, trying to find the clearest signal to the American news. I remember looking over at the grainy footage being interrupted by commercials and other signals and piecing together through the static and the employee trying to translate that back home, the 2008 financial crash was happening and that mom’s insistence that we find a beach and have fun was because that business meeting dad had stayed behind to deal with was him trying to make sure we’d still have a house to live in when we got back to the states, and she didn’t know if this would be the last truly carefree time we had before we went home to face the music.

-However, mom’s eternal struggles to find a beach didn’t begin in 2008. The previous trip we’d taken had another Beach Adventure.

That time, it was also just mom and the siblings. I don’t remember why dad was staying behind, maybe a poker tournament or something?

We disembarked and the struggle began. Nothing was in English, other than the scant few signs the cruise ship put out to guide passengers off the docks. However, THIS was not a problem, as I was about as fluent in Spanish as a third grader restricted to the present tense, and this worked well enough to get us around.

There was a massive bus to a beach, just PACKED to the gills with Americans. As we waited in line, a nondescript man came up to us, and said, “that bus will go to a very crowded beach with many other passengers of other ships. I know a better beach, and cheap! I’ll charge only half of what that bus will charge you and my beach is much much nicer!”

You might be thinking that common sense would tell us not to get in a random unmarked car with an un-uniformed man offering an amazing half off deal to a perfect isolated beach in broken English on a largely rural island, wouldn’t you? You’d be wrong.

My mother is a sweet devout catholic lady with a hidden core of raw chaos. Her idea of a nice day out in the snow with her tiny children was to strap us in the back, drive to the massive Schnuck’s parking lot, gun it up to 90mph, and hydroplane/drift like a fucking drag racer across the ice, laughing. Common sense does not exist in any normal capacity in this woman.

We spent an incredibly tense, silent, 45 minutes driving into the wilderness packed into a tiny car with no AC, sweating with heat and nerves as he drove us out in the middle of nowhere. Suddenly the driver pulls over. There is literally nothing but trees and cliffs for miles and miles. Mom is clutching my hand, my baby brother, and her knitting needles. The driver runs quickly to the center of the road, leans over, and picks up a huge tortoise that had frozen up when his car approached. He carried it over to the grass, and pat it goodbye.

Before he comes back Mom turns and looks at me and says, “a serial killer probably wouldn’t save a turtle, I think we’ll be okay.”

[werezmastarbucks]

xenia

honeymoon masterlist

word count: 2851

warnings: mentions of parental abuse

music: damsel in distress by neck deep, beautiful stranger by halsey

You did shots that night.

Xenia has been one of the stops on your ridiculously meticulous search through Ohio. One mention that one of Kai’s grandmothers might be buried here somewhere, and that she was a siphoner, too, which is a rare, and you stopped in Xenia, digging up every inch of the earth.

In fact, at some point, as you lived on in this weird world, systematic search has grown into a kind of manic entertainment.

You took everything to extremes. Searching for the grave, that might have answers and magical solutions, you basically unearthed the whole cemetery, because Kai said that maybe somebody wanted to hide his nana’s body, because she was a shameful accident, being a siphoner and all that. And that random guess got stuck in your heads, turning you into paranoid diggers. Really, you were just keeping yourselves busy. Doing the things you would never normally do in your usual life. Why would you walk around a town, digging the ground randomly, and putting so much effort in it? After a couple of days of incredible stamina fueled work, Xenia looked like it’s been ravaged by gigantic moles. Then Parker remembered. She has never been to Xenia, she lived, and died in Cincinnati.

And that’s why you were doing shots.

You invented a reverse never have I ever game which was called nobody has ever. The point was to think of all the things other people never did for you, and the luckier one had to drink, but obviously, pretty soon the game turned dark.

You found this nice house on the Creek Green Street that overlooked an old alley with a post office that must have been about sevety years old. You wondered how it survived the tornado.

The kitchen was big, and the table, square and made of very thick, nice looking wood, consumed the soft golden lights of the evening. Although your shoulders were hurting you almost to the point of whining, since no matter how many days you dug, your body wouldn’t get stronger, you made a salad. Kai cooked up a myriad of snacks, and they were all piling up on the table in a colorful, tasty mess. It felt like you were both drunk from work and the absurdity of your chore even before you opened up the bottle.

“Nobody has ever”, he said, narrowing his eyes, “hit me in the throat with a tennis ball”.

You shook your head slowly. The shots rested on the table. You were leaning against the table, one foot under you, and listened to music and your joints singing the mournful song of pain. Kai was rubbing his chin musingly. Days in Xenia were very warm - unlike in all other towns. That was amazing to you. Without the people, and the hurry, you could concentrate on the world itself and actually found every location had its own smell, temperature, color. Once you got out, you’d never be the same.

“Nobody has ever cut my hair while I was sleeping”.

Kai nodded responsibly and downed his shot. You raised your brows.

“Oh, I was way too agitated, and never liked scissors near my face. Mom always cut my hair while I was asleep. I was ugly when I was little. One more reason”, he shrugged, “to be hating on lil Malachai”.

You hummed.

“Nobody has ever said they loved me”, he continued, gravely.

Air got stuck in your throat.

You swayed in your place.

“Come on. Not ever?”

“Nah”.

You took your shot and thought, who actually said that to you, except your mother. People usually said it in a friendly way. You couldn’t count how many times Elena said she loved you, and it didn’t mean much at the end of the day.

“Not even in a casual way, like, oh my god, you like Metallica, too? I love you!”

Kai chuckled.

“I don’t like Metallica”.

“Jesus. Okay. You wanna go hardcore. Nobody has ever chose me over everything and everybody else”, you offered.

Kai smirked and took his shot, and then reached for the bottle again.

“How? How come? And they never said they love you? Who?”

“I have learnt to manipulate people into choosing me over everything else. That’s how I keep sane, ha”, he noted. You frowned.

“Who was it?”

He looked at you with surprise.

“You. You chose me over everything else in your life when you decided to spend an eternity here with me. That was pretty nice of you. Cheers”, and he drunk again, forgetting he had already done his shot. You could feel the blood flowing to your face.

“I did it because I thought Damon would stop. I didn’t expect him to send me here”.

Kai shrugged, as if saying, it wasn’t really his problem Damon was a piece of shit.

“And why did you mainpulate me into it?”

Bold of him to assume he had manipulated you into liking him, but his way of thinking is different.

“Because I like you. I wanted you to stick with me. You’re the only person who doesn’t make me feel like a burden”, he replied with a lot of importance. He was a little tipsy.

You sighed heavily.

“Nobody has ever buried me under the ground in a drain pipe”, he ogled.

“Mm-hmm”.

He grinned as you drank.

“By the way, after that, when I made a scene (because I was sixteen) about Damon not killing the love of his life over me, Katherine called me a delusional teenager. God I hate that bitch”.

“Katherine Pierce never infuriated me because I never met her”, he put it.

“It’s not your turn”, but you drank anyway, “Nobody has ever called me an abomination”.

He saluted you with his shot.

“Nobody has ever made me his door boy”.

Shot.

“Nobody has ever took away my natural right of being the leader of my coven”.

Shot.

Your right shoulder stang you with annoying pain, and you glanced at the clock. Midnight would come in a couple of minutes. You always started drinking just before midnight because the change of the day brought you back to sobriety, and you could go on and drink the same amount again without feeling bad in the morning.

As the midnight struck, you suddenly found yourself sitting so close to Kai your foreheads were touching.

You both straightened up and looked at the time. He stretched his neck.

“Were we drunk-confessing our mutual respect for each other?” you asked.

“Think so”, he pulled a bowl of salad to himself and started eating, without forgetting to fill the shots again.

“Happy birthday”.

You clincked your tiny glasses together, and the game went on.

“Nobody has ever cooked for me”, he said.

You downed your shot thinking about how fabulous it is, to have your own chef who is also in love with you.

At the same second, you wondered if he has ever thought about poisoning you, just for the sake of it.

“I have hard time believing it. You’ve made it to twenty-two, which meant your parents cooked for you”.

“We had lots of kids in the house. We always had to eat all together”, Kai shook his head, “if you were late to the table, you had to starve. Besides, I started cooking for myself pretty early”.

“Okay. Nobody has ever locked me up in the basement”.

He was so good at this game, taking his losing drinks like a champ, like a very diligent student. As his adam’s apple went down, you gasped.

“Oh, wait. Spit it out! Spit it out. I recalled. I’ve been locked up in basements plenty of times, it was just... more like... a dungeon”.

“In the Salvatore house?” he asked, displeased.

“Yeah. And once, in the Lockwood mansion. Damon was raging then. We got stuck and...”

“Whatever”.

You licked your lips and shut up, seeing the familiar irritated spark in his eyes. Kai hated Damon at this point; for sending him away; for being not his type of person; but most importantly, for the fact you still lingered on the memories of him.

Gradually, you started running out of ideas, drunk again, and it was barely past one in the morning.

Kai at least was constantly eating, while you just drank, so you now had a hard time focusing on one thing, your thoughts drifting apart like ripples on the water. You looked at his white wrists, his knees hopping lightly as he bounced to the music, and tried to think of something.

“Nobody has ever... ever...” you puffed. Kai smiled. “Ever stood over me at night, watching me sleep”.

“Yes, I have”.

You didn’t get it at first.

“What?”

“I have”, he repeated.

“Oh, you mean... of course, I mean, back in the outer world”.

He nodded, like it was just a tiny misunderstanding about the size of a cheesburger he’s ordering.

“Oh, yeah, yeah. I was in your house at night before we got here”.

“What?!” you snapped.

All your body moved you towards him to slap him on the head, but out of instinct, the unkillable, fundamental instinct that kicked in when he was around, you took his head, let your palms slide down to his neck, as you hugged him.

“Kai, why would you do that?”

“I don’t know, I just wanted to see what you look like when you’re not around me”, he said simply. You could feel his mouth moving against your hair close to your ear. “What you look like when you stare at yourself in the mirror. What you do when nobody’s watching”.

You shut your eyes with embarrassment, your brain trying to recall all the things you did alone back in your house one hundred years ago.

“Oh god...”

“What you smell like when you’re just out of shower. You know, stuff like that”.

“God, this is so embarrassing”.

He laughed out with amusement.

You pulled away and took his head, covering his ears with your plams. His face swayed in front of you a little, as you muttered,

“You have to promise me something, Parker”.

“Okay”, he said carefully.

He could’ve said, of course! because you knew him. You knew how he pretends to be this enthusiastic person. Who is only serving you. But he was real right then, at that moment, looking you in your drunk eye, really considering what you’re about to ask. He could’ve said of course! and not mean it. But he said okay, ruffling up like a ferret, and you loved him at that moment.

“Once we get out, don’t stalk other girls”.

His face moved with laughter he contained inside.

“Why would I do that?”

You thought of that wretched universe full of good-looking girls, and all their different shapes and colors, the way they smell and how gracious they are, and felt scared of losing him for the first time.

“They’re all so pretty, and I... just don’t. Do whatever you can to...”

“You don’t think you’re pretty?” he asked in his are you dumb tone. “You’re a solid eight”.

You have lived enough to feel all kinds of wonders when intoxicated. You’ve sang, blacked out, stumbled, yelled, fought and slept when drunk, and now the very logical reaction followed, which you have also experienced many times.

You started sobbing.

“Eight”, you put your hand to your face, cradling yourself, and consoling yourself immediately.

Kai’s face went almost pale with shock. Then he started giggling uncontrollably, reaching his arms for you.

“I’m joking! Hey, I’m joking”.

He couldn’t start laughing.

“What are you upset about? I’m just fooling with you”.

“I’ve always been an eight!” you cried out, suddenly.

“For your information, eight is fantastic!”

“Katherine has always been a ten”, you finished solemnly, drowning in the pleasure of digging into your deepest wells of insecurity.

Kai froze.

“Don’t tell me you’re thinking about Damon right now. I swear to fuck, I’ll break your neck”.

You tilted your head miserably, letting the tears stream down your face in a dramatic fashion.

“Aaaahhh”.

“Y/N...”

“Damon has made me think that I’m a fool for ever thinking somebody can be into me”, you said quietly. You could feel his hand on the base of your neck. As your hot tears dripped down, heating the perfume on your skin, his grab tightened lightly. He didn’t know how to hold tenderly, it was always half-clutching with Kai. With time, you came to realize it was so reassuring you felt the safest when his hands were around your throat. Whether it was playful or menacing depended on his mood.

“Let me rain on your self-pitying parade”, he murmured, “okay? My parents made me think I didn’t deserve to breathe even. Pretty natural, don’t you think? Everyone has their right to have air in their lungs”.

You looked at him. Kai was being serious. You wiped your cheek with the back of your hand, and his face softened a little.

“But my dad decided I wasn’t worth even that”.

“What are you saying?”

“Once I was sitting in the bath, when I was about five. That was the time you start getting your magic and learn how to control it. That was the time the whole coven found out I don’t have it. That Jo is useless, too, because I’m a siphoner. So one night, when I was in the bath”, he repeated, like he was trying to hypnotize you, “he came in, and...” he looked away, blinking several times. “I remember, he was wearing this dark green shirt. Green is the color of the coven. He held my head under water”.

There was a short break between two songs, and when the next one came in, blasting sounds, you shivered uncomfortably.

“He decided he’d spare himself and everybody else the headache. That’s why I don’t like water much and barely ever go near it. And now you taught me how to swim”.

“How did you survive?” you whispered.

“My mom barged in and pulled him away. I don’t know how she knew. Maybe it was her motherly instinct. She used to have that one for me long time ago”.

The tears welled up on you, pressure pushing on the sides of your skull. You took him, kissing his face, kissing his mouth, as Kai leaned in, quiet, and just let you dote on him. You held him tight, trying to kiss the memories out, begging him to forget.

“I’m okay. Hey, I’m fine. It was a long time ago, and he’s dead. And I’m alive. And I have you”.

You were so drunk, falling apart at the seams like a badly sewn jacket, that he had to hold you so that you didn’t fall off the chair. Hangover was guaranteed.

“Let’s just go... let’s go to bed”, you whispered, your face against his. “You can do whatever you want”.

Kai smiled. His eyes glinted in a familiar way. This kitchen, the house, it all grew on you. The way he held you, you didn’t even know if your feet touched the floor.

“Whatever I want?” he asked.

“Whatever you want”, you echoed.

He put your body onto the couch, and you could feel he moves your limbs a little, and then the weight of his body was next to you.

Fifteen minutes later, you pulled the covers down, and turned towards the light, and saw the TV shining through the blackness of the room.

Kai was watching Lethal Weapon on VHS and cuddling against you.

You inhaled, feeling he room spinning. The light stang your eyes, so you rolled back away and pressed your face into him, into the darkness.

The next time you woke up it was already dark.

You moved a little just to know where you are, and indicated his arms around you. Comfort settled down immediately, but the insane temperatures of his dozing body was too much, so you tried to kick the cover down to your feet. Kai lifted one of his arms unwillingly. It was still deep dark outside the window, and the old post office must have been standing there in complete fright.

“How many parts have you watched?”

“Three”, he said sleepily. You considered whether you were thirsty enough to try and go to the kitchen. Decided it wasn’t worth it. Your face felt a bit swollen with tears, but you felt comfortably tired. You wouldn’t leave this couch even if somebody lit it on fire.

“It’s not true, by the way”, he said.

“Huh?”

“My dad never tried to drown me”.

You rolled your eyes without opening them up.

“Wha...”

“I made it up, I was just trying to make you feel better”.

“You moron. You unbelievable moron, you...”

“You really have to stop calling me names, it hurts”.

“Douchebag. Why... Kai, you told me you weren’t a liar”.

He did something resembling a shrug. You felt his knee between yours, and slid your arm onto his back.

“You made me a liar. You’re changing me”, he mumbled, “I’m changing here with you. I can feel it”.

[sweetchup]

Monarch Butterfly

Anonymous asks: Chrollo and his so that both think they’re playing each other... maybe she’s sweet and cute looking so she plays into it and he thinks she dumb and naive and she thinks he’s just a rich kid that took one philosophy class

Type: Chrollo Lucilfer x theif! Reader

Au?: None (same universe as Cute Little Princess (pt.2) and N.E.R.D.S (pt.1))

Word count: 4,000+

Warnings: Smut, Unprotected sex, Chrollo being a Sapiosexual, Dom/Submissive, Angst, angst and angst. Yay, I’m so sad.

Author Note: welp. In a simple sense I went overboard, hehehe, since I instantly got an amazing idea. I might actually make a part 2 to this one if it gets popular enough. I honestly fell in love with the concept once I started writing. I hope you like it anon.

“(Y/n), are you thinking of trying something stupid again? Don’t think I can’t see that look on your face.” Clementine says, blowing a puff out of her cigarette as she looks over to you. You only laugh at Clem, reaching over to pull one of her short blonde corkscrew curls. You watch it bounce back and forth for a moment before answering. “I don’t think it’s stupid. I’m just thinking of having a little fun, that’s all.”

“A little fun my ass. Do you know where we are right now?”

“A party?”

Clementine sighs and shakes her head, “You idiot. We are in a fancy hotel at a party, being hosted by Emperor Fushi who is crowning his eldest daughter, Himiko, and her future husband, Tai.”

“Well, I don’t think it’s that serious.”

Clementine squints her eyes at you as she exhales one last puff of her cigarette before putting it out. “How so. Enlighten me Miss (Y/n).”

“Well,...” you pause for a minute to gather your thoughts, “this is the second time Himiko has been engaged in less than a month. Her first husband was Phinks Magcub who randomly went missing around a week and half ago, along with Emperor Fushi’s youngest daughter.”

“Yeah, they apparently fell in love and ran off into the sunrise. Like so cheesy comedy”

“I don’t think that’s the case,” you murmur. Finally spotting your target again. Clementine lets out an ‘Hah?’. You ignore her noise and just signal her to move down the stairs with you, “I do believe they fell in love and disappeared but I don’t think Mr. Magcub was actually in love with Himiko. Mr Magcub and Himiko got engaged about three ½ weeks ago and Mr Magcub disappeared 1 ½ weeks ago. What do we know that happened in between that timeline?”

You hear her gasp and you smirk a little bit. “T-the theft of The Dragon Eyes Collection!”

“And who do we know that’s crazy enough to do that?”

“The phantom troupe! Wait, (Y/n) is one of them—“

“Yep, one of them is here,” You squint as you go to search for him again. Oh. There he is, “And it’s their leader.”

“(Y/n) wait don’t. We don—“

You act as if you're checking something in her hair and whisper into her ear. “Clem. He already has the two Crown Jewels. That’s our mission and I need to go retrieve them. We may also get the info on the Dragon Eye Collection. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity, please hold down the fort while I’m gone.”

You pull away and Clementine sighs before smirking. “Don’t be a stupid ass though.”

“I won’t.” You whine as you sashay away. Your heals click down across the tile floor as you get closer and closer to the bar. You hear a whistle and look to your left to see some young prestigious men eyeing you. Practically undressing you with their eyes. Bingo.

As you finally come to the bar area, you locate him. You can’t see his face right now, due to his back facing you, but it’s obvious it’s him. His bulb-like earrings give him away from like a mile away. You smirk before giving your best sweetest smile. You poke the black haired leader on the shoulder causing him to turn around.

“I-um. Oh god. I’m sorry but can I sit next to you?”

Chrollo gives you a smile. “Yes, of course. Is something the matter, Miss?”

“Oh, no. I’m just not a fan of parties and I was trying to go back to my room but, I got a little scared when a couple of men were staring creepily at me.”

“But, wouldn’t I make you nervous as well? Afterall you don’t know me.”

“Ah I guess-s you do. I’m sorry you are just the first one I saw. I guess I’ll leave, I’m sorry to disturb—“ you say, attempting to get up.

The black haired man grabs your wrist. “Oh. I don’t want you to leave. I was just curious.”

You sit back down. That worked perfectly, he reacted just as you thought he would. You once remembered a person telling you that the leader of the Phantom Troupe has an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and his curiosity. And you could tell just by watching him from the balcony, that stealing the Crown Jewels was just like child play for him, so he was bored sitting here at the bar. And even if he didn’t look like it, He was practically looking for anything to possibly entertain him.

So, you walk in, a rich looking damsel in distress waiting for someone to come save her. Chrollo will, of course, take that. You check off all the marks needed to satisfy himself and he had many possible ways to do it. He could steal your Nen, break down your mind, use you, steal from you, or simply just do all of them.

This was where he messed up though. He never would have imagined he would run into someone just as intelligent as him, you.

“I’m Chrollo, Chrollo Lucilfer, by the way.” Chrollo says, leaning against the bar counter.

“Oh! Nice to meet you Chrollo. I’m (y/n). (Y/n) Okage.” You murmur the last part under your breath as if you don’t want him to know. But, he definitely caught it. Perfect, he took your bait. Now he thinks you're an Okage.

“An Okage huh? Wow, call me impressed.”

“Ahh it’s not anything that impressive. It’s just a last name after all.”

Chrollo raises an eyebrow as if he’s saying really. So you’re an Okage, huh? Now he is really interested. The Okage family is a prestigious military family that is known for their very rare Nen. Chrollo is definitely not letting you out his clutches now, he’s going to quietly lure you into his web and pounce. But the question is how…

Ah, that’s how. Chrollo eyes the group of men on the left side of the room, whistling and eyeing every woman that passed by. This worked even better because they were also blocking the exit.

“Would the group of men that happen to be eyeing you, them?”

He points to the group before looking quickly back at you. He watches your doe like eyes blink a couple of times before looking off in that direction. You seem to shudder and clearly show your fear as you see them.

“Y-yes that’s them.” You say, clutching tighter onto your purse. You hear Chrollo let out a small ‘ahh’ as you finish talking.

“Well I was just wondering how you're going to get back to your room without them noticing. After all, they are blocking the door.”

“Oh no. Your right. Do you know if there’s any other doors that lead to the hotel part of this building?”

“Sadly there isn’t. But...,” Chrollo suddenly stands up and extends a hand out to you, “I’d be happy to escort you back to your room.”

“Really?!? Thank you so much!” You say, taking his hand as he leads you away. As you're about to leave you spot Clementine and, secretly, use your hand to signal her.

Clementine smirks into her drink as she notices it. So, the spider has been beaten at his own game eh? Man she might call you stupid but honestly you are the smartest partner she could ever as for. It also doesn’t help you make this job ten times more interesting when you're around.

She just hopes you didn’t get him too caught up in your fun. He’s definitely not like the others you’ve faced.

———🕸—🕷—🕸———

“C-chrollo, W- Wait. I haven’t even taken out the keycard.” You murmur, let out soft moans into his ear as he bites and sucks on your neck. Maybe you made yourself a little too appealing to this guy. Though, at the same time, you can obviously tell him lusting over you is all fake. He just wants you to let his guard down so he can steal from you. Also, you can feel he doesn’t even have a bulge right now.

“Give it. I’ll take care of it.” Chrollo groans, grabbing the card. Once the door to the hotel room is unlocked, Chrollo picks you up and throws you onto the bed. You squeal as he pulls your dress off you and then takes off his shirt and bandanna. Huh. Honestly he’s not half bad, he’s got some nice chiseled muscles going on and an interesting forehead tattoo. Though his patience could use a little work.

You moan out his name as he gives small open mouth kisses all the way from your stomach to your lips. Once he reaches your lips he stops and gives you a passionate kiss.

Honestly, even though this is nice and all, you have a job to finish. Sorry Chrollo. Hope you’ll forgive me on this one.

One moment, Chrollo is pushing you down onto the bed and in charge but in the next, his body feels a hundreds of pounds and it’s even hard to move an muscle.

“W-what?” Chrollo murmurs confused as to what’s going on. You huff as you roll him off of you and he lands next you on his back.

“Fuuuw, Damn Chrollo you weigh a lot. You should lay off the muscle training for a while,” You say, stretching your back. Now, let’s see where those Crown Jewels are. Scurrying through his clothes you find two tiny marbles stuffed into his pant pocket. You bring both up to your eye and examine them as you sit down on his lap. As you look into them you spot the two crowns in one and the Dragon Eye Collection in the other. Score!, “Ooooo! What an interesting ability. Conjures never cease to amaze me with what they come up with.”

You see Chrollo tense, attempting to move, as you throw them on top of your dress on the floor. “Don’t try Chrollo. My Nen won’t be making you move for quite some time.”

“How so?” Chrollo asks, his face blank, unreadable. But, it won’t work, you can see right passed that little trick of his.

“Now I wouldn’t want to tell you that silly goose. I’ll meet one of your conditions if I do so.”

You see Chrollo eyes gleam for a second. He was surprised. He’s had people figure out what his Nen is before but no one has been able to find out his conditions. Not his enemies, not the people of Meteor City, not the Zoldyck’s, not even the troupe. Only he knows what they are. Chrollo licks his dry lips, he’s knows he’s walking on shaky ground right now. “A condition? Are you talking about my Nen? (y/n)? If that is really your name. Though I highly doubt that’s your name. Afterall—

Aww how cute, little Chrollo is trying to change the subject last minute. You decide to cut him off in the middle of his rant, “Yes it’s really my name and yes, I’m talking about your Nen and conditions. Honestly, I already knew you could steal abilities around 3 people had already told me. So it just left me to how. How did the infamous Chrollo Lucilfer, Leader of the Phantom Troupe, steal people’s Nen without their knowledge? Well, it can’t be something that catches them off guard. Afterall, that will grab too much attention and you would have found out already. Yet it also can’t be something too far from the topic of “Nen” either since you need to steal it. So I just observed you as you walked around the party today, after all their is an—“

You pause for a second as you feel something. Is this really happening right now? You test the waters and spread your legs a little bit more wider. Chrollo has definitely gotten a boner while you were talking, it’s a fully hard one too. You decide to roll your hips a little and watch as Chrollo let’s out a moan. You laugh a little at his reaction, “Wow. I’m not sure if I should be happy or offended that me talking turned you on more than the flirting and grinding we did all the way in the elevator.”

Chrollo chuckles, his hair sprayed around on the pillow below him. He’s still trying to keep his tough act up, even now. “Well, there’s a word to describe that actually. It’s called Sapiosexual. By definition it means that someone is attracted to their mind over-r… shit.”

Chrollo clutches onto the sheet below him as you start to slowly grind on top of him. “You know, I’m starting to believe you just really like to hear yourself talk. Either that or you just like to avoid confronting things you don’t know how to figure out in that moment.”

Chrollo doesn’t respond. He just chooses to close his eyes while you smile down at him. “Not talking? Aww sorry I didn’t mean to hit a nerve, Chrollo. Here let me make it up to you.”

You lightly lift yourself off his lap and slowly begin to unbuckle his belt. Looking away quickly, you tried to see Chrollo for a reaction but there was none. Oh well, you can’t rush the good things after all. You’ll have him a mess eventually.

Finally, you pull down his pants and boxers off. Leaving his hard length out in the open; you reach out and hold it lightly in your hand. Wow, he really was a Sapiosexual. The tip of his cock was a pretty red shade with light drips of precum spilling out, showing he was practically craving for release. Hmm...You know what you’ll do. “Wow Chrollo, you're really straining for release. I should help you out. Hmmm... I’m not sure if you're a germaphobe or not so I’m just going to start with my hand….”

Chrollo still had his eyes closed so it gave you the perfect opportunity. As you continue talking, you pulled your panties to the side and lined him up with your entrance. Careful not to get too close so he figures out your plan. Honestly, you were soaked, his cock was honestly really thick and big so you knew it was going to feel absolutely amazing. Also, Chrollo is an entertaining man. You wouldn’t mind have sex with him multiple times if you have to.

“....so Just let me know if it’s not enough ok? I’ll switch to my mouth if so.”

You wait for a second for him to respond but he only lets out a chuckle. Still trying to play it cool. Oh well, you brought this on yourself Chrollo. You take a deep breath and sink down onto his length.

You hear chrollo let out a loud groan as you sink every inch Chrollo has to offer inside you. Even while you are just staying still it makes you feel as if you are about to burst. But, that’s not the important thing right now. You bring your hips up and start off with a slow rhythm, watching as Chrollo is attempting to bring back his composure.

“So,... where was it I left off again? Oh yeah. So I was observing you at the party. Be extra careful to catch changes in people’s aura and listen to what you were saying to them.” You say, rambling off your thoughts. You feel Chrollo twitch suddenly inside you as you speak. You decide to reward the poor man by moving your hips at a faster pace. Maybe you got a bit too excited coming across someone like Chrollo. Clementine will definitely scold you later but, oh well. “I noticed you had stolen the Nen ability of 6 out of the 21 Nen users you talked to at today’s party. Observing you is how I determined the conditions. The first condition I found out was when Mr. Noz and Mr. Casey wouldn’t show you their Nen, and theirs weren’t any of the ones that ended up being taken. The 6 you did take however did show you, meaning one of your conditions is the user has to show you.”

You flinch as you feel Chrollo’s hands grab onto your waist, a bruising clutch against your soft skin. Crap, your Nen was warding off faster than you thought. You have to quicken this up, as much as you didn’t want to. You lean forward onto chrollo’s chest, allowing him to be squeezed more and sucked deeper into you. It definitely made you more vulnerable since it meant his cock was bashing against your g-spot with every flick of your hips but it was also working well on him. You could tell since he was panting and groaning into your ear like crazy. You just needed to hold on for a bit longer.

“T-the second condition I confirmed also with two people. One being a woman whose husband explained to you her Nen ability. You didn’t end up stealing hers so that meant one of the conditions had to do with the person telling you about their Nen. T-Then—then when you went to…”

Oh god, you hide your head into Chrollo’s neck. It was too good, you were honestly begging for mercy. You would slow down the pace but Chrollo has gotten feeling back in the muscles of his hips so he was just thrusting up erratically into you. Chasing after his release.

“What’s wrong (y/n)?” Chrollo murmurs into your ear, causing you to whine and shiver at his mesmerizing voice, “W-what did I do next that 100% confirmed the second condition?”

You don’t respond as your brain was practically melted at this point. Though, Chrollo won’t take that as an excuse. Chrollo, with most of the feeling back in his body, flips you over so he was on top. He stops his thrusts and holds your legs down so you can’t move. You whined as you looked at the silvered eye man above you. “I asked you a question, my little butterfly. And I expect you to answer it.”

You pause and don’t say anything, not wanting him to boss you around. He smirks and pulls all the way out before bashing right back into you, hitting your cervix. You grunt, pain flickering through your body.

You glare at Chrollo above you and he only does it again. And again. Waiting for his lovely little butterfly to answer him. On the 6th thrust is when it gets interesting, this time when he bashed in, your cervix had eased up. Allowing him into the depths of your womb. Your eyes widen and Chrollo chuckles, both of you knowing what this means.

You try to fight against it but Chrollo successfully cross your legs. Making it so you squeezed around him even more. He lets out a sigh, losing his composure as he begins to make small little thrusts, trying to stay in your womb. “Answer me my little butterfly. You and I both know what’s highly likely to happen if I cum this deep in you. There’s no way around it if I do. So answer me.”

He was right, there was no way around it if he does. You’ll just have to follow his orders, waiting for him to drop his guard again.

“T-then I confirmed it when Mr hansu wouldn’t explain to you how to function his ability after you saw it, only about how flashy it is. Meaning your second condition is the person has to tell you the general function or uses of the ability. The third—“ you let out a small sigh as you feel the knot in your stomach about to explode. It also didn’t help you could feel Chrollo begin to twitch inside you, if you came while still explaining there was no question he would cum, hard. “The third, I confirmed through your expressions. Sometimes you would do the first two conditions but not follow up with the third condition since you hadn’t found the ability interesting to you. But when you did, you always had them touch the handprint on your conjured book. The ones that didn’t touch it, didn’t have their abilities stolen.”

You let out a sigh, you were done. You listed all of his conditions. Now he just needs to stop thrusting into your womb.

“And the fourth? The fourth condition?” you blink as he says this. T-there was a fourth condition? Oh god you had forgot strong Nen ability usually had 4-5 conditions not 2-3. Your heart races up as you flicker fastly through your memories.

Nothing else was similar between all the people he talked to. Which means that it’s either a time limit or a magic word that you hadn’t caught. It’s more likely the time limit so you’ll go with that.

“Y-your fourth is a time limit. I confirmed this because strong Nen types need 4-5 conditions and nothing else was similar between the people you talked to. T-This—this means the only likely answer is a tough time limit. From what I observed it took you about 45 minutes to steal from one of the businessmen-men so it’s something higher than that but it has to be shorter—oh~ than 3 hours since that gives too much time and isn’t as strict. Hah-ha-Happy now?”

Chrollo humms for a minute thinking, before he lets out a groan. Come on Chrollo, pull out. You can tell he’s about to burst.

“Chrollo pull out-t, you're about to cum.”

Chrollo groans as you say that, leaning his forehead against yours. Damn, you felt your walls twitching and tightening. You were going to cum.

“You can tell little butterfly? You're so smart my butterfly. All mine.” Chrollo murmurs, pressing kisses against your collar bone. “ I enjoy you, you are so entertaining, so smart, so special. Like a rare specimen. My special butterfly. Trapped in my web forever. Fuck—”

As he says that you finally feel him cum, also allowing the knot in your stomach to finally burst. You bite down, hard on his shoulder, as your whole body shakes underneath him in ecstasy. You thought your brain was mush before, but now it had completely melted into a liquid. It also didn’t help that you loved the feeling of him pumping hot cum into you. The feeling of something so dangerous that also felt so messy and primary sent a flame through your nerves.

You let a couple of pants out as you finally come to. Turning to your right you see chrollo his eyes close since he was out cold. You had hoped when you bit his shoulder and broke the skin that, with your nen, you could put him to sleep before he had cum in you but it seems that hadn’t worked out. As you're trapped underneath the handsome man, you decide it wouldn’t hurt to observe him for a little. Ever so carefully you lightly run your fingers through his hair and then to tracing his features before finally running them across the tattoo on his forehead.

“(Y/n)…” your heart clenches and your fingers tremble as you hear him whisper in his sleep. This is bad. You finally decide it was time to get him off you and it was time for you to make your leave. With a huff, you roll him over before covering with the sheets. You give him one last look before you begin to get dressed, deciding not to even bother cleaning up the cum he pumped into you. You would deal with it when you got back home and we’re able to take a shower, right now you just needed to get the hell out of here. Though before you leave, you decide to neatly fold Chrollo’s clothes and place them on the nightstand beside him, a parting gift if you will. As you place the clothes down and go to leave, a hand grabs your wrist.

You turned, shocked, as you looked at Chrollo. He was hardly able to keep his eyes open and was struggling to even hold onto you. “My Little butterfly… you aren’t going anywhere… you're mine”

You look at him blankly for a couple of seconds before letting out a sad laugh. Damn it. This was supposed to be a fun time but nothing can ever have a happy fairy tale like ending can it?

You lean down placing your forehead down on his. Looking deeply into his silver eyes. “Chrollo. I am your little butterfly. I bet I forever will be but…but…”

You turn your head to the side and savor the last kiss you'll ever share with this man. This extraordinary man that gave you a night you’ll never forget. You slowly pull away watching as his eyes begin to droop again.

“But, Chrollo, you have to be careful. Afterall, A monarch is deadly to a spider.”

And, with that, Chrollo was out. And so were you, not a single trace of you remained in that room. It was like the monarch had never been trapped in Chrollo’s web in the first place.

But, the scars left on those beautiful butterfly wings of yours, Is enough proof that you were there. And that you left, damaged.

[tangledinmdzs]

you belong to me, junior quartet hcs

junior quartet soulmate headcanons (modern au)

these are a bit long, but i hope you all don’t mind (also i hope you won’t mind the little formatting things i’m working on hehe)

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

Lan Sizhui

the timer

the moment that Lan Sizhui met you, he knew that you would be someone important to him

when his parents had become friendly with the family down the street and had introduced him to your smiling face, there was no turning back from there

he’d always adored you, long before the timer appeared on your 12th birthdays

and even after that, when the craze of estimates and soulmate countdowns swept through your school he still felt the same lingering ease of being beside you

Sizhui was fine with the mystery of the very big digits on his timer but you had been curious and had dragged him along on the estimation and soulmate guiding journeys that all the kids were crazy about

with some math, he figured out that his timer was set for only 6 more years from now, when he would turn 18.

you were more than jealous, because you had to wait a whole 4 years after him, destined to meet your soulmate at 22

“ahh that means it could be anyone in high school! you’re going to have your first love be your soulmate! that’s so romantic” and you would go on and on and on about all of that, young love and such things

he’d just laugh at you but let you immerse yourself in whatever you wanted to your heart’s content

high school years pass and go like a short rainstorm. 

you and Sizhui grow up together, laughter together, stay together despite all the world’s turbulences

Sizhui doesn’t meet anyone that stays longer than a week, even as his time drops day by day

the years pass by faster than you would imagine and on a wintery January morning, Sizhui wakes up on his 18th birthday to notice that his timer is counting down hours instead of days.

he’s a little shocked, a little scared

what if he met/was destined with a complete stranger

could that happen?

the smallest part of him hopes that isn’t the case

and then that small part of him is reassured by the fact that he would at least be spending some part of the day with you

out of the many traditions that you both have made, you always promised to celebrate each other’s birthday together

the little cute gifs and texts won’t cut it

just the thought of you eases his anxiousness and he anticipates the night that you guys have together

but as the evening gets later and you show no sign of showing up he begins to get worried, then fearful, then anxious

and even though it’s his birthday he ends up pacing by the front door when every call and text that he sends to you is left unanswered

his dads are worried too, you’re not usually like this and they hate seeing their only son so worried

they end up calling your parents only for them to be confused on your whereabouts and now everyone is worried

Sizhui can’t imagine anything happening to you and his fear is heightened by the late hours that’s approaching

he’s too worried about your well being to really notice that the timer on his wrist only has minutes left instead of hours

it is nearing 11:47PM and Sizhui is hurriedly shrugs on a winter coat and scarf, ready to just go looking for you himself

his dads are against it, one lost kid is already a enough of a worry 

but he doesn’t listen, can’t listen 

you’re his best friend for god’s sakes it’s not like he could just leave you

and he’s ignoring his parents commands and pulling the front door open just as the timer on his wrist runs out

in the snowy backdrop of early January five minutes to midnight, you stand with rosy cheeks and a bright smile with a big bag in your arms and a warmth in your eyes

“i was waiting on line for the release of this and i didn’t realize people took so long to wrap things and then the creators ended up being there so i had to fight some people for their signatures... but i’m here! i didn’t miss Sizhui day!” you explain in tumble of words and shove the bag unceremoniously into his shellshocked arms

“i know they’re your favorite game series! so this is all for you” you tell him, smiling widely at his face

he blinks at you, the incessant ticking at the back of his mind finally silent after so many years

Sizhui puts the bag down without even opening it 

without another word he pulls you close to him, holding you tight

his timer has finally ended

but your countdown steadily ticks on | || ||| [pt 2]

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

Lan Jingyi

writing on skin

you didn’t know who your soulmate was, but whoever they were must be the biggest cheater you’d ever meet

almost as early as you could have been able to contact your soulmate, your skin had been littered with writings of all different kinds

it had started off as little occurrences that slowly got heavier as you both continued on your academic careers

at one point the notes had gotten so bad that you had to resort to wearing long sleeves just to cover up the array of words that were on every inch of your arms  (even the occasional stomach)

all your friends always wondered why you never contacted this soulmate of yours

some acquaintances recommended the idea to you like you couldn’t have thought of it yourself.

of course you wanted to contact this person; tell them to lighten up on the writing a little bit

but was there even any room to write? would they even be able to tell the difference between your handwriting amidst all of the chaos of their notes?

besides this person also seems incredibly sly to be able to get away with such methods of learning for a long time

so you go along with it until you can’t

in your final year of college, the sleeve of words that don’t belong to you almost cost you your diploma

you’d been accused of cheating from your professor and had to go through a deep and painful trial to plead your innocence

it was something that lasted nearly a week, since plagiarism and lack of academic integrity were the highest of offenses at your college

your truth was finally realized when the higher ups on the board realized they couldn’t wash the writing off your arms and you provided the evidence of different handwritings

the trial had been so demanding and draining and it wasn’t even your fault!

and in your anger after the whole ordeal, you don’t think

you return to your dorm room, take out your big blue sharpie and retaliated to your soulmate for the first time by writing STOP on your left arm and  CHEATING on your right. 

you leave the large letters on for a the rest of the night, even when you get weird looks from your roommate for it

that night goes on normally until you’re about to go to sleep and you look down at your arms to realize that the sleeve of tiny scribbles are scrubbed clean from your skin

al that’s left aside from your blue sharpie is a single answer on your right arm, written in the handwriting that you had come to know better than your own for the past few years

i don’t cheat

you huff a disbelieving laugh at that and seeing that your arms are mostly clear go and wash off the blue sharpie

when your soulmate’s answer still remains, you answer them even though the night is late

what does a person do with so much notes on their arms if not to cheat?

your response is written in dark black, neat handwriting despite the fact that you’re writing at an awkward angle and place on your arm

after a few moments, words begin to appear

it’s so weird seeing words appear randomly on your skin, especially when they happen before your eyes

taking notes on the body saves paper

the answer truly makes you have a loss for words and knowing that you were awake, your soulmate probably felt the awkwardness from the silence that lapses for a bit afterwards

it just helps me concentrate better

but i’m assuming you’re not a big fan

and from that you guys start a conversation long overdue, years overdue

you learn that his name is Lan Jingyi and despite the unconventionalities of his work ethic, he had a bit of a charm when he was writing to someone with an answer

morning comes to both of you before you realize

and this time when your arms are filled, it is with many answers, instead of just questions

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

Jin Ling

with one touch

you had never gotten a bruise in your life

which was a kind of funny considering that you were had been training in your father’s dojo since you could walk

then again in your world, only when you touched your soulmate would that purple greenish ugly color come up 

and since you were the star pupil of your father’s martial arts dojo, it’s not like it was ever easy to land a punch on you anyways

anyone that ever did never was you soulmate

and they’d be dead meat ‘immobilized’ (if not by your retaliation or your sibling’s overprotectiveness or your father’s judgement, the possibilities were endless)

but the point was, you had never gotten a bruise in your entire life, so you definitely didn’t know what it even looked like until you were changing out of your gi and your older sister pointed out the large bruise on your shoulder

you’re surprised

you hadn’t even felt any pain from it

but as you stand with your back to the mirror looking at it back and forth you wrack you brain for every person that you had come into contact within the last few days

the only person that comes to mind is one of the newest recruits to your father’s dojo, an aggressive punk by the name of Jin Ling

he’s not a good fighter as much as he just fights a lot

but you vividly remember being pushed hard when you had to break a fight between him and another student the other day

you hadn’t realized that he had actually pushed your shoulder then

you figure that you’ll know for sure when he comes to the dojo for practice tomorrow

the next day arrives and when you’re setting up the mats for everyone else, Jin Ling ends up being one of the earlier arrivals

and since no one’s there yet, you end up asking him to do something that you don’t usually ask people

but it feels like the only way to know for sure if he is your soulmate or not

“spar with me” you invite him when he returns to the main room with his uniform on

he’s more than surprised; he’s the new kid on the block, you’re the seasoned veteran and the sensei’s kid

when you sense his hesitation, you egg him on with “nothing to be scared of; i’ll go easy on you”

and when you look at him, you notice how his eyes darken at your jab

even though you’re a brown belt and he’s just teetering around yellow

the dojo ends up welcoming the next batch of students that come in with a very bruised up Jin Ling

you’re a little bit better off, though your hands are a little battered up

there’s no pain, luckily, just the ugly color of the bruise of a soulmate touch

and even when Jin Ling glares at you as your father goes through the forms for the day’s lessons, you know that he can’t deny the marks on him can only be made by you

✧༺♥༻∞　　∞༺♥༻✧

Ouyang Zizhen

first words tattooed on your wrist

Zizhen’s always been a bit of a romantic 

living in a society where all the movies play out picture perfect scenes of confessions has given Zizhen all of the back up that he needs in order to be prepared for his soulmate

he’s one of those people that make you read a specific quote he’s set out before initiating conversation (he’s just that prepared)

but what he isn’t prepared for is what he’d be saying to his soulmate

so one dreary autumn morning, when he walks into the cafe you’re working at bleary eyed and sleep deprived

 Zizhen is not in the state of mind to be meeting his soul mate

when he comes up to the register, he begins ordering his usual chai tea latte with all the specific condiments as you listen in

as he’s talking you feel a little tingling on your wrist and don’t think much about it, not even asking him anything else when he quietly hands you his credit card to swipe

you’d always been a quiet person, and your boss was always on your back for not going through all of the employee procedures but you don’t pay that any mind

but anyways, only when you’re in the middle of making his order do you finally realize

you sleeve slips up a little bit as you’re making the tea and you notice a little paragraph written in beautiful swirling script on your wrist

you’d almost burned yourself at the fact and put one and one together

some dude just placed a whole order as your soulmate quote

and you’re angry

when you’ve finished making the chai latte you hold onto the drink tight as the guy from before comes back for his order

but just before he gets it, you snatch the drink far from his grasp and pull down your sleeve showcase your newest soulmate quote

‘i’ll have a medium chai tea latte, light on on the cream with two pumps of vanilla, no water and switch out normal milk with soy milk. also with extra cinnamon”

when Zizhen realizes that you’re his soulmate his very actual soul wants to leave his body because:

the moment that he’s been waiting for has finally come

also you’re so cute!!!

but you face looks stormy and sullen... i mean who wouldn’t be, you just got an starbucks order as your soulmate quote  (and only a very very specific group of people would find a blessing in that and you were not one of them)

you wanna just call him ‘dickhead’ and make it even, but even that seems light in comparison to the entire chai tea latte order that he places on your wrist   

f o r e v e r

but you’re in for a treat, because, Zizhen’s always been a too much of a romantic

you take some time off from your shift to make a plan with this dude, because there was no way that you were gonna read the cheesy soulmate quote that he wanted and have everything be dandy

you learn that Zizhen is his name and that he’s much too romantic; so romantic in fact that he proposes a solution in comparison to your soulmate quote right away

“do you have a favorite recipe or something that you like to eat? you can read the recipe to me so that i’ll have it on my wrist, and i’ll know how to make it!”

he sounds so excited that it lightens the order on your wrist a little

the gesture softens you a bit (read a lot)

but you’re also mildly peeved that every time you look at your wrist its a beautiful beautiful calligraphy of a specific order of chai tea latte

so when you guys begin dating, you give him the silent treatment on your first few outings together

but through every date together, from movies to restaurant, you learn that Zizhen is a very easy going and compassionate guy, easily filling in for the empty space that would have been your voice

similarly, Zizhen wonders and lingers on the sound of your voice, but also finds himself falling deeply for your laugh

it’s amazing the vibe that you guys create together and this is without you talking yet!

after a few weeks of going out together, you’re sat across from him in a small homey cafe when you say your first words to him

in the end, there is no big recipe written on his wrist; you read the exact quote that he wants to have

because you know how much it means to him to have that on his skin

when you’re finished, Zizhen realizes that what he was searching for wasn’t even the perfect quote to be said

it was the fact that the person he had grown to love had said it to him

and even though there’s no recipe etched onto his skin, he has the rest of eternity to remember all of your favorite recipes to the depths of his heart

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

[scandeniall]

love in argentina

pairing: oikawa x reader

summary/warnings: you went to study abroad in argentina, he went there to play volleyball. you meet and your love story starts in argentina./ um yeah a ton of spoilers including 402. oh and just implied sex for 2 seconds

wc: 3.2k

notes: in honor of both oikawa’s birthday and the manga officially being over. its been a ride and i’m glad hes getting the ending he truly deserves. 

You're not sure when it happened. Growing up, you never really thought too much about love. You didn’t live in this fantasy that one day you’d get your happily ever after with your prince. You just lived as usual, focusing on your own dreams and goals. Being present and if love happened then it happened.

Oikawa isn’t quite sure when it happened. Growing up it had been a battle between volleyball and his own insecurities as he was determined to be the best. Sure he dated around, but it never amounted to much. There were so many people in the world to prove wrong and love had been pushed off the agenda.

But somehow it happened. Love had found its way into both of your lives and you found it within one another. It came without warning and despite every logical thought in your brains to run you didn’t. Now as you look at your fiance enter the arena your heart is filled with joy. You got your happily ever after all thanks to your last minute decision to study abroad in Argentina. 

----

Another clap of thunder caused another groan to rip through your throat. Looking around your vision was minimal due to the downpour. The occasional shiver ran through your spine whenever the wind would pick up. The covering of the protruding building could only do so much, afterall.  You eyed the directions on your phone for the nth time and still came up useless. When you decided to study in Argentina you looked at the frequency of rain, pleased at its limited occurrence. It was just your luck that your first weekend there you’d gotten caught. 

A hoard of footsteps pounding against the rain soaked pavement caused you to look up from the device, and before you knew it a group of 5 men stood under the buildings canopy out of breath, soaking wet and laughing. Out of instinct you found yourself moving away from the group of strangers as you listened to them talk and laugh. You heard one of them mention the next nearest building they could run over to get towards their destination. 

You eyed the phone again trying to make sense of the tiny map when three of them had run off. Right before the remaining ones could go you found yourself speaking up. Either be lost in San Juan for who knows how long or take your chance asking strangers for help. “Excuse me, could you guys point me in the direction of the university. I’m lost and I really need to get back to campus.”

The words came out rushed and you apologized for disturbing their day when the brunette in the group just laughed. “It's no problem. I’m Tōru. Tōru Oikawa.” 

That was how you met. He’d offered to show you the way back, claiming that he knew what it was like to be new and lost in the city. He’d waved his teammate off, before telling you to keep up. In between running from building covering to building you found out he was a player on the club team originally from Japan. 

“So you went across the world for volleyball? That's kind of cool.” You huffed out as the two of you ran under another canopy. After each one you'd allow yourselves to stop for a moment to not only catch your breath but to chat. “You went across the world to study.” “Yeah, but I’m only here for a semester. It seems you plan on staying. Not nearly as cool.”

Once the two of you arrived at the campus you offered to let him come in and dry off for a bit. “It's the least I could do.” You acknowledged that he didn’t have to show me all the way here and that surely he had better things to do. After a reluctant agreement the two of you found yourselves just talking. Oikawa had given you several food recommendations even ordering the “best empanadas ever” to your place. You two just seemed to have clicked. There was a sense of familiarity just like talking to an old friend that was instant. 

“I have to get going. But it was great to meet you.” As the two of you said goodbye you contemplated for a moment about to offer your own number when he does the same. “In case you get lost again,” he insisted, handing you his phone with a laugh. “My first friend in Argentina,” you joke back. After thanking him again he bids you farewell with a light smile. “I’ll see you around.”

And the two of you saw each other again and again. In between your classes and his practices the two of you found yourselves texting quite often. In between teaching eachother new phrases in Spanish, you shared food recommendations, stories of your own childhoods within your respective countries and went on several adventures. 

“You know, I haven't actually been here,” Oikawa hummed out from beside you. You had an assignment that required you to go to the Museo Provincial de Bellas Artes Franklin Rawson, the fine arts museum. It’d been nearly two months since you met Oikawa and when you'd asked him if he knew where it was located. Having no clue, he just decided to tag along with you. “Is that why you got us lost like 5 times on the way here,” you questioned before walking ahead to the next exhibit. “Hey!”

“Apparently there are 945 pieces here,” Oikawa read off as the two weaved throughout the other visitors, who were likely tourists. “Oh really? That's a lot,” you’d said mindlessly searching for a less crowded place to stand. You were vaguely aware of the hand resting on your upper back, his attempt at not allowing you two to become separated while also not pushing too far. You shot him a kind smile as he opened the door to the next exhibit. 

Throughout the museum the two of you took pictures with your favorite works, a few selfies here and there that Oikawa forced you to send to him before you’d go home and forget. He’d invited you to his next game, one you gladly accepted. You’d seen him play only twice before and were utterly mesmerized by his poise, control, and how he seemed to command the court. After the two of you left he insisted the two of you go out for a few drinks. It was a Saturday night afterall. 

You never quite made it to a bar. The two of you found yourselves just sitting on a bench downtown sipping your local drinks and just talking. “I love coming out at night, it's always so pretty,” you noted before taking another sip of your drink. The athlete only nodded in agreement. You didn’t know it then but that was the first time he’d wanted to kiss you. 

From the constant chatter of people walking he’d tuned in soleyl on your voice. The way the mixture of street and shop lights illuminated your face caught him off guard. However he pushed that feeling away just to enjoy the present. Eventually you’d go back home and he’d be wherever. Still playing and still working towards his goals. “Hey, are you ok?”

He was immediately pulled out of his thoughts, sending you a genuine smile. “Yeah, just a bit sore.” He noticed the way you frowned and immediately regretted using that lie. Especially once you questioned him about his knee, a fact he’d let slip randomly one night over a late night text session. “I’m fine, besides the club would pull me so fast if I slipped into those habits again.” He’d also told you about how his friend would always have to drag him out of late night gym sessions. “Iwa gave me the nastiest bruise one time because I was in too late. It was an accident though, he was kinda shocked at just how hard the ball hit me too,” he laughed when he told you the memory. Then proceeded how he got to guilt trip his friend everyday until it healed. You only nodded but not before scolding him that somehow you’d go all the way to California to bring his friend back to kick his ass if needed. 

-----

“Told you it would be worth it.” The scold you had ready for Oikawa didn't make its way out as your mouth dropped. The mountains completely took your breath away. When you’d first agreed to let Oikawa take you out to see nature you didn’t anticipate the lowered temperatures nor the annoying hiking trails. When you’d seen the first steep path you looked at him in complete disbelief. “You're not serious right now. I don’t even have on the right shoes Tōru,” you complained eying the worn sneakers with very little traction. “It’ll be fine, I’ll help you. The view is worth it.” With that you reached for his outstretched hand and went with it.

“It's beautiful up here,” you said slowly taking in the view. “El Leoncito. Blanco took me here the first month I got to Argentina. It was a rough week and he said I needed to get away. Camp out for a weekend and regain my focus.” You felt yourself nodding along as he spoke. “I remember how much you complained about your last test grades and figured you could use the break too.”

You’d known Oikawa for four months now. Your first semester in Argentina was coming to an end soon, and suddenly you were glad you didn’t let homesickness take over and decided to stay for the academic year. That gave you another few months with who turned out to be your dearest friend in the country. “Thank you,” you replied softly. While he had been looking at the view you managed to sneak a few looks at his profile. He didn’t know it then but that was the first time you’d wanted to kiss him. 

The nights cooled down more than you could have imagined and you found yourself shaking despite the campfire around you. You mentally cursed Oikawa again for not informing you to be better prepared. The sound of a zipper shifted your attention as he emerged from the tent the two of you had set up earlier. “Looking a little cold over there,” he teased sitting next to you. “You suck.”

His laugh filled the air as a sudden warmth came over you. You look over to see he’d placed a pare blanket over you. You were filled with the urge to kiss him for the second time that night. “I’m not such a shitty guy now am I?” You only shook your head in amusement. “Yeah, I guess not.” 

The months came and went. The two of you grew closer as the time for you to go home neared. Neither of you remember quite when it happened. It had been spring break for you and you had been hanging around Oikawa’s place for the most part. Even while he wasn’t there, the two of you had become that comfortable in less than a year. One night he came back unusually agitated and touchy, and you found yourself walking on eggshells until he just blurted out his feelings. “I fucking like you. More than a friend and it's annoying because I kept getting distracted tonight because one of the guys pointed out that you’d be going home soon.” 

Your eyes widened as you watched him down his first shot of the night. A drink he’d insisted he needed after the night he had. After you hadn’t said anything for a few moments it seemed like his words dawned on him and his eyes widened. Before he could apologize you’d crossed the short space from his couch to the kitchen to press your lips against his. 

“It's annoying, but I like you too.”

After that the two of you essentially began dating. You’d never officially declared a title but it was clear as day that you were together. When the year ended you decided to stay in Argentina at least for the summer, moving in with him for the time. In doing so the two of you put off the impending goodbye for at least 3 months. 

That summer had flown by before either of you knew it. In between having more time to watch him play and your Argentinian adventures, they were the best months of your night. You’d spend many nights laughing and making out on the side of bar buildings on nights out. When time permitted, taking random day trips outside of San Juan and exploring together. You’d accumulated enough pictures together to fill out an entire photo album in that time alone. 

One of your favorite memories came after you’d gotten home from said day trip. During which you guys brought three different jars of dulce de leche from different shops. You two had decided to try your hand at determining which shop had the best by putting them in various deserts. 

“Wait we have to try them plain first,” you exclaimed the second the two of you had made it back. Taking the bag you made your way to the kitchen pulling out the jars. “The one I picked is going to be the best,” Oikawa assured, taking a spoon from you. “What if we fed each other and I took pictures to send to Iwa to remind him that he’s single.” You laughed before responding. “Oh please, he’s kinda hot. I doubt he's that lonely.”

“(Y/N) you can’t call him hot. I’m supposed to be the hot one,” he jokingly complained, arms coming to lock around your waist. Leaning your lips towards his, you mumbled with a lazy smile. “You are the hottest. But you’re going down, Grand King.” You pulled away laughing as his distressed look at your use of the dumb nickname. “I should've never told you about that.”

“Too late now,” you hummed opening the jars to set them out. “You wanted to make your best friend jealous right,” you questioned as he made no move toward the treat. You smiled at the sparkle in his eyes. “Hell yes.” 

After you two couldn’t come to a consensus about whose pick was the best you two stared at the ingredients you'd also purchased to use the dulce de leche with. “Now what are we going to make,” he mused, tossing his arm around your shoulder. “Lets ask the internet.” You felt his lips press against your cheek before he agreed. 

By the end of the night you’d managed to make a successful pastry, some random cake where you had to substitute a few ingredients and hope for the best, and a sorry excuse for ice cream. “I told you this was a bad idea,” you laughed as you tried to keep mixing the failure. “It’s not thickening up at all.” You moved aside as your boyfriend took the bowl from you, muttering about letting the athlete stir before adding on. “Thick like me?”

“It's as flat as you,” you deadpan. 

“It’s a liquid!” 

-----

“Hey (Y/N). Are we going to make this work. You know when you go back home.” He’d asked you one night as you cuddled on the couch. Your time together was coming to an end and you were leaving in two days. It’d been something neither of you ever mentioned, even during the packing stage. You raised your head from his chest searching his eyes. “Do you want to?”

Another silence fell over you two as you both processed your question. Eventually he gave you a slow nod. “Yeah. I do. Do you?” At your nod Oikawa let out a breath that he didn’t even know he was holding. “Good. So it's settled yeah,” he questioned. “Yeah it is.” You smiled as you maneuvered your way onto his lap. Settling your knees on each side of him, his hand your cheek pulling your lips towards his. “Good,” he repeated right before his tongue slipped into your mouth as his hands slid lower. 

That had been 5 years ago. In that time you'd gone back home to finish your degree and he stayed in Argentina. The following year his time in Brazil coincided with a school break of your own and you were able to meet him there. You’d gotten to meet the iconic Hinata and the two of you teased your boyfriend to death with Grand King. 

The distance was never easy. There were times where you both questioned if it were worth it. Stress from both of your lives outside of one another would pile up and you had to learn to work through it. Learn to comfort despite being thousands of miles away. Reassuring you that you were indeed the smartest person he’d ever met. Reassuring him that he didn’t want to quit. He was amazing and he found volleyball fun. You’d even been the one to propose going to Brazil trying to find the fun in the game. 

When he told you he was considering the possibility of naturalising you even encouraged it. And then he proposed to you. He had a small break and had flown out to surprise you insisting that it was now or never. He wanted you forever and knew if he didn’t just do it he’d keep thinking about it forever. Of course you’d briefly discussed marriage, stating that you wouldn't mind an engagement, even if it lasted for a few years while you both got your career, living and citizenship situations settled. So when he did it you made the decision to permanently move back to Argentina. 

“Are you sure-” he’d asked you shortly after proposing. The high of you saying yes had worn off and now the realization of what this really meant settled. You’d discussed marriage prior to him starting the naturalization process. The two of you had been sitting in your yard hand in hand watching the stars. “Of course. I was looking into moving back anyways. Wanted to surprise you.”

His hand tightened in yours as he eyed your face for any semblance of a joke. “Really?” You only nodded pressing a kiss on his clothed shoulder. “Of course. It's where it all started. Besides, I have no doubt that you’ll make the olympic team. Gotta be there in person for moral support right?”

Suddenly you were tackled back onto the blanket your now fiance was hovering about you. “God, I love you.” Fingers playing with his hair you returned the sentiment. “I love you too.”

Neither of you are sure how it happened. You’d met at 19 and nearly a decade later at 27 you'd both accepted your fairytale ending. You found love in Argentina and your heart swells at the announcement of your Fiance at the Olympics. You can imagine his scowl at the mention of him never making it to high school nationals and find yourself laughing. Eying the ring on your finger you think back to the promise he made you two years ago on the night of the engagement.

“I want to marry you and I want to keep playing. So if you don’t mind, can the wedding be after the olympics.” There's not a single part of you that regretted agreeing to those terms. As you watched him continue to train your pride for him continued to grow. As he entered the arena ready to play against his home country you found yourself yelling. 

“Beat them all Oikawa!”

a/n: i hope u enjoyed this. I’ve been in a slump and on vacation past week but i am back (i think) and better than ever. I have a 10k atsumu piece coming within the next few days so i hope u stay tuned for that. Both of that and this are me tapping into my creativity and im very passionate about 10k words esp.

also; if you enjoyed this I think you’d really like my sakusa piece no limit to you. it has a similar feel and to date is my fav thing ive written (and 5k words)

lastly: did yall enjoy my google argentina research LMAO. ngl after um i kinda wanna go there tf

[megatrashboyeros]

Revenge Is Sweet

Summary: You were a well known detective, cracking every case you could get your hands on. It wasn’t hard for you to catch people either. Except a certain group of boys who had fun torturing you and leading you on for days upon days. When your boss decides to fuck you over, the only people you can think of to help you were the one’s who call you ‘baby’ and do crimes for a living. 

Note: Yes, this is the first part to a series. They’re going to be a bit long, but I hope y’all like it. I’ll post trigger warnings if there are any. Reminder that my works are centered around male fans ^^

You found yourself sitting in the back of a bar, sipping some alcohol you randomly picked off the menu when you came in. The face of the bartender definitely showed you that he wasn’t expecting yourself to be there, but he treated you to whatever drink you wanted. The spot you picked was a corner, near the top to bottom windows all the way in the back of the bar. It was secluded enough for you to have some privacy but open enough for you to keep an eye out. 

Your purpose was fulfilled when you heard a very familiar voice from beside you. “What brings you here, (Y/N)?” You turned and looked at the leader of the infamous ATEEZ. Behind him stood the rest of the boys, all with curious faces. “I wanted to see my favorite boys, that’s all.” You say and give them a smile. Hongjoong raises an eyebrow and glances back to Seonghwa, who shrugs. Hongjoong turns back and pulls out one of the stools next to you. They all end up sitting around the table, watching you as finish your drink in one go. 

“I never thought I’d be saying this but, I need your help.” You say and sit back in your chair. They all pause for a moment. 

“Is everything okay? You disappeared on us for a week or two and now suddenly you’re here in our bar.” Yeosang speaks up first. “2 weeks without our favorite person is torture!” Wooyoung chimes in. You cough up a laugh and glance out of the window, crossing your arms and trying to hide the faint blush. “The reason why I was gone for 2 weeks is because my boss decided to fire me.” You said sourly as you turned your attention back to the boys. 

“Whoa wait, why would they fire you? Out of all people?” Jongho asked, leaning forward. You smiled bitterly as you remembered how your boss pulled you into his office and told you the news. “You know how I’ve been working on that case since I arrived? Well, my boss didn’t quite like the fact that the spotlight was on me. He wanted his son in my spot. So they took some crucial evidence and made it seem like I stole it.” You explained, watching their faces morph into anger. 

“After I got my stuff and left, I did a bit of research.” You said and reached into your bag. You pulled out a thick folder and plopped it down on the table. The boys leaned forward to get a better look at what was inside as you flipped it open. Multiple lines were highlighted and tiny sticky notes stuck out from the edges. “When my boss pulled me in to his office, he said some thing’s that got me thinking about what he was truly hiding. There’s months worth of information in here. Stuff from even before I was assigned to this sanction.” You said. 

Yeosang grabbed the folder. He flipped through the papers, glancing up at you here and there. “Some of this shit you can’t get through regular sites. Where did you learn how to do this?” He asked. You smiled and tilted your head. “I learned from the best, Yeosang. After how many months of having to deal with you guys, I’ve learned a thing or two.” You said coyly. He paused but matched your smile. Mingi shifted in his seat, turning to you with a serious face. “How do we know you’re not tricking us?” You looked at him for a moment, collecting your thoughts. You knew they’d get suspicious about the sudden confrontation. 

“Because this man took everything from me.” You muttered while picking at your jeans.The boys went quite. “What do you mean?” Mingi asked. You looked back up at him, biting your lip harshly for a moment. 

“I was evicted from my apartment 2 days after he stole the evidence. I had to sell all of my furniture and put my clothes in my parents house. I have no phone, no laptop, no other clothes, society hates me now so I can’t spend even an hour in one place. I’ve been kicked out of my regular hang out spots because I’m ‘making the customers nervous’ or I get comments thrown at me.” You pause and take a breath, looking out of the window, rapidly blinking the tears out of your eyes. 

“My whole career, my whole life, everything I worked for was taken from me with three simple words, ‘He did it.’“ You spat out angrily. “I’m coming to you guys because I’ve got nowhere else to go. No one else will help me. And I’m not pressuring you guys to do this. But if I go after him within the next month or so, he’ll know it’s me. If it’s someone who he hasn’t dealt with then he won’t know how to get around it-” You were cut off by Seonghwa. “Because no else knows as much as you do.” He says and you nod. “He had me work by myself for most of the time until his son came into play.” 

Hongjoong grabs the folder and slowly flips through it. It goes quiet around the table as the leader sighs. The crowd in the bar had died down and there were only a few couples here and there talking lowly. You look down at your lap again, nervously fiddling with the rip in your jeans. A few more silent minutes pass and you see a hand rest itself on your thigh. “We’ll help you. On a few conditions.” Hongjoong says and you raise your head to look at him. He turns his body to you and looks you in the eyes. “You stay with us. You’ll follow our rules and you’ll be accompanied by one or two of us where ever you go. We trust you and we love to annoy you, but we have to take precautions for our own safety.” You nod right away. 

Hongjoong smiles. “Okay, it’s settled then.” He says and grabs the folder. “I’ll hold onto this for now.” You nod once again. “Thank you...really.” You say and give them a small smile. Wooyoung leans across the table and pinches your cheek. “Just think, you’ll be apart of the gang for a while. How scandalous, the greatest detective in our area is working with the criminals now~” He says with a smirk. You roll your eyes and grab your book bag from where it was hanging off the chair. “I have to stop by my friends house to grab a few things.” They all stood up with you. 

“Don’t worry, (Y/N), we’ll get back at him.” Jongho said and patted you on the back. “Yeah, I really hope so.” You responded softly. You’ll show your boss not to fuck with you. 

[letsperaltiago]

i love you and i like you

Based on @stars-my-darling's adorable post: 

“When Mac starts talking he will sometimes just randomly tell Amy that he loves her, usually at the end of an unrelated sentence. They later realise that he learnt to do this because Jake is always randomly telling Amy that he loves her and Mac is copying him." aka. 5 times toddler Mac Santiago-Peralta tells his mommy he loves her

Also includes prompt #101 from the 101 fluffy prompts-list: "…They just grow up so fast."

Read on ao3

Every like and reblog is appreciated <3

Amy Santiago has so far had a lifetime’s worth of great jobs, which, she knows, isn’t that hard when you love work and everything it implies. Everything from assisting her middle school’s librarian to that brief job at a small uptown museum her degree got her to being a respected sergeant in the NYPD. She’s loved every single job but, she’s now come to realise, nothing vill ever beat her most recent employment: Motherhood. With a capital M, yes.

Mac throws her and Jake’s worlds over like the tiny miracle of a storm he is and they’ve never looked back since. It’s brand new, it’s exciting, it’s scary, and though they’re not exactly religious, he’s the answer to their prayers. Parenthood turns out to be nothing like what they’d expected, like nothing they’d ever tried before and looking past some of the rough days, which are inevitable, it’s actually even better. They get to shape and watch a human grow; a human of which they’re both the genesis and they couldn’t be any more proud - both of each other but also their son.

Everything Mac does and achieves is a moment to remember, and they take nothing for granted: every new sound, even simple gurgles, every new movement, even the flick of a tiny finger? They beam, look at each other with wide, joyous eyes and celebrate their newborn addition to their little family. They hold on to everything they can, while they can although, they swear, every other day they’ll be lying in bed with him while he sleeps or watch him begin to explore their apartment on his own and they’ll take turns breaking the comfortable silence with what they’re both thinking:

“They just grow up so fast.”

Even if he’s merely grown a tenth of an inch since the last time they brought it up.

This fact aside, before they know it, their before so very tiny and helpless son can sit without assistance, sooner than later starts crawling and before they seem to have the time to catch up with the ladder he suddenly knows how to say “mama” and “dada” - and the day Mac takes his first steps, Amy filming on her phone while Jake is squatting to entice his son? Both parents guiltlessly shed a tiny tear rewatching the video that night after their little one, who suddenly seems so big, is put to bed.

With the walking comes the talking. Mac, like his dad, is an entertainer and seizes every chance he gets to chat with his parents, and anyone else who’ll listen for that matter, and hopefully make them laugh. Amy quickly sees through the fact that her son’s mannerism is definitely inspired by her husband’s, and Amy’s heart swells at every glimt of it: everything from Mac’s tiny ‘big dramatic movements’ to him attempting to crack small jokes (that sometimes are actually super funny but also mostly make people laugh because his delivery is beyond precious). Despite the fact that his personality is absolutely a solid blend of both parents, Jake’s genes definitely conquer everything else, and Amy doesn’t mind one bit. Although she could do without the short, Peralta-inspired attention span, which can be both very cute but also slightly maddening when you’ve told your barely 3-year old toddler 6 times to finish their meal meanwhile he’s to preoccupied by his father cleaning up the water said toddler spilled just seconds ago.

All in all, Mac is a copy of Jake, and in more ways that one Amy is grateful. Especially when the little boy starts getting a grasp of the word ‘love’ and what it actually means though his parents have showered him with it since before he was born. Jake and Amy will tell Mac ‘I love you’ on the daily and, besides this, his parents themselves aren’t exactly shy of telling each other, especially Jake who often tends to do it out of nowhere or any kind of context which the boy must’ve picked up on at some point.

It starts off quite naturally: the first time he says it.

One night after getting him washed down and put into his favorite firetruck-print pyjamas (the parents couldn’t deny him it even though they were far from thrilled), Amy’s sitting with Mac in his new so-called ‘big boy-bed’. Feeling her son’s curly-haired head nestled into her chest, one hand grabbing onto the fabric of her shirt while the other holds onto his best buddy Leo the Lion, Amy reads out loud from one of the many books she’s managed to accumulate for her son. Obviously worn out from the day Mac, as being almost 3 is very exhausting, stays silent and listens carefully to the sound of his mother’s voice, dutifully paying attention to the book’s colourful drawings and even sometimes pointing at them whenever Amy reaches a part of the story that’s been illustrated.

“Then the little puppy ran through the big big field and the big big forest to get back home-“

“Shee, Mommy,” Mac interrupts her with a lisp caused by the pacifier hanging from one corner of his mouth and points to the drawing of the running dog with his index finger. “Doggy runth!”

“Yeah, I see, baby,” she smiles before pecking the top of his head. Normally she’d ask him to remove his pacifier when he speaks. Her and Jake slowly trying to make the object something Mac knows he can use to relax rather than constantly needs, but when it’s this late and right before bedtime Amy can’t be bothered to reprimand him. For now she’s just proud of her tiny, smart guy. “Where is he running?” She pulls back to look at him, encouraging him to explain further.

“He’sh going home!” he smiles proudly to a point where his pacifier almost falls out, just barely clinging on for dear life.

“That’s right. He’s running home to his family - good job,” she chuckles sending him one last smile before skimming her wristwatch quickly realising bedtime is just minutes away. It’s not that they’re following a strict schedule that depends on every single minute and second of the day: something she’s actually glad Jake’s and his more laid-back lifestyle has transferred to their parenting-style. Although Mac, his parents have come to find out, will reach a point during the evening where it’ll be too late and he becomes overtired and impossible. Therefor 8 PM is the ultimate limit (on weekdays, that is) and Amy sees it quickly approaching so she quickly finishes up their story and shuts the book closed.

“That’s it for today, Mr. Mac. Time to visit dreamland,” simply not able to resist the feel and smell of her son’s newly washed curls, she places another kiss to the top of his head before climbing out of the small bed and hears him reply with a yawn which tells her that she’s probably timed bedtime perfectly. To the great delight of the now also tired mother (a high rank full-time job and a toddler will do that to you) she’s once more proved right when Mac gets under the covers without a trace of fight.

“Roshie?” he looks up at his mother with worried eyes as he hugs Leo the Lion a bit tighter. Those stupid beautiful brown eyes he’s inherited from Jake.  

“Oh,” Amy kneels down to the bed’s side and starts running her hand all over the duvet, mattress and bed-frame. “Where’s Rosie, bud?”

Rosie aka. the pink unicorn he’d gotten from auntie Roro back when he was still a tiny baby (though he’d always be Amy’s tiny baby) was missing and they both knew very well that there would be no sleeping without it. Suddenly her hand comes across a bump, to her relief revealing the stuffed animal once she lifts up the duvet.

“Yay, mommy!” her son smiles as if she’s cracked the mystery of the century and Amy can’t help but feel just a bit proud - anything she does that makes her boy happy will do that to her.

“There you go,” she smiles and places the unicorn in his arms right next to Leo the Lion. “All good, Mr. Mac?”

He nods profoundly, eyes suddenly clearly tired and droopy, which earns him a warm smile from his mother before she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, all at once running her hand fingers his curls as to get her one last fix for the day. Incredible how your child can become somehow addicting.

“Sleep well. I love you,” she pulls back to take him in, the declaration of love hanging in the air for a few seconds before, taking Amy by surprise, her son answers her.

“I wuv you.”

She knows ‘love’ is an abstract feeling that a toddler can’t really comprehend and isolate as an emotion, which is probably also why Mac’s never said it back before, and although she’s told him a million times before and has never awaited or needed an answer, him saying it back definitely throws her off in the most magical, proud, emotional way in a long time. She’s constantly proud of the little things he does on the daily, slowly becoming a tiny actual human with opinions and a personality, but this is a whole new level.

“Thank you for saying that,” she can feel tears forming in her eyes and throat, but doesn’t want to confuse the small child who’s just begun to understand ‘love’, and therefor doesn’t also need to be explained that crying can also be a sign of happiness. That is an oxymoron that will surely just confuse him when, currently, crying is Mac’s way of expressing and understanding sadness and anger.

“That was very sweet of you and I love you so so much too, baby,” she manages to say it one last time, without breaking, before getting up to turn on his tiny night light and leave. “Me and daddy will be just down the hall watching TV, okay?”

A slight movement from beneath the duvet lets her know he’s heard her before she allows herself to half-close the door and walk back to where Jake is cleaning up after dinner. There she is finally able to let out a few soft cries as she lets her husband in on the small, incredible moment she’s just had with their son. Of course, it instantly makes Jake feel like crying with joy too. Their baby is surely the best.

From there on it’s just one big mess of declarations, at the most random moments and Amy is very amused but also even more enamoured.

One night Jake is away on a stakeout which leaves Amy is home alone with Mac, and to the toddlers immense joy this means he’s allowed to sleep with his mom in her and dad’s enormous bed. Jake has told him to keep mommy safe while he’s gone and of course takes this task very seriously. It’s 3 AM, they’re both fast asleep when suddenly Amy is awoken by what seems to be quite some new weight on top of her chest.

“Mommy,” promptly breaks the silence slowly bringing Amy back to consciousness.

It takes her a second to collect herself but she instinctually reaches out to figure out exactly where her son is in the dark. It’s quickly clear that he’s stretched out stomach down across her chest. “Yes, baby?” she mumbles tiredly eyes still closed hoping that her son is just being restless and will go back to sleep.

“I need pee.”

“Oh.”

This, with a power that almost no other request from her son holds, immediately dawns upon and takes over her body pushing her to sit up. Mac is pretty much fully potty trained but only day-wise. During the night he still uses a diaper, and they’ve only just recently started easing him into the night-potty by telling him it’s an option. The boy showing initiative himself is an absolutely great start and even more importantly an opportunity she won’t let slip by.

“You wanna go use the potty?” she looks at him to make sure and he immediately nods. “Okay, lets go then.”

And so they scurry out of bed and make their way across the hall to the bathroom, hand in hand in the darkness, where once the light is turned on Mac’s potty awaits him.

With a bit of help from mommy, he pulls down his pyjamas pants and diaper before getting settled on the potty. There’s no hiding the fact that they’re both very tired, especially Mac whose head hangs a bit, almost asleep while giving in to his body’s need for relief while Amy sits dutifully on the floor besides him.

“Good job telling me, Mac,” she praises, smiling tiredly but the little boy is too tired to even react.

They stay like this for a while, in silence, Amy not wanting to interrupt a probably concentrated Mac, when suddenly he, to her surprise, is the one to break the silence.

“I’m peeing and I love you, mommy,” he mumbles tiredly almost fully asleep right there on the potty, messy curls hanging in whatever which way gravity will allow.

Then, as if she’d never been tired, asleep, woken up and feeling exhausted, Amy’s body rises to a much higher level of awareness. Warmth, one that completely makes her forget about the bathroom floor’s cold tiles, spreads throughout her entire being and if it wasn’t for the fact that he was currently trying to pee, Amy would’ve pulled him into the tightest hug right there. But she doesn’t, of course, and instead settles for a gleaming smile.

“Mommy loves you too, honey,” He’s her very own bedhead, she thinks to herself lovingly running a hand through his hair. “And I’m so proud of you for waking me up to go potty.”

It’s very faint, too tired to put much effort into it but there’s definitely a small smile growing on her son’s face, When he falls asleep on top of her chest a bit later after he’s done and has been put into a clean diaper, just to be safe, the smile is still there, Amy can tell even in the dark.

Another occasion, it’s safe to say, happens when Amy leasts expects it. They’re running on ‘tantrum from hell: hour who-even-knows-anymore’, this time triggered by the banal fact that, no, Mac wasn’t allowed to play with the big knife Jake had been using to cut vegetables for their dinner.

Everyone has their bad days, the parents are well aware, but this one of Mac’s was particularly bad. All day, from the minute he woke up and went straight to the living room instead of joining his parents in their bad, he’d been extra fussy thereby not feeling content with whichever way his parents tried to fix his mood. They’d been understandable and gone easy on him all day, hopelessly trying to please him while also not just giving in to his unreasonable demands. It appeared that this was very a fine line to walk, and so far it sure hadn’t offered them the intended results. Both parents were exhausted and Mac screaming was far, so very far, from their ideal way of spending the evening in.

Both Jake and Amy have tried experimented with different tactics, some that are known to work. Picking him up to soothe him; ask him if he’s hurting somewhere; offering him to choose one of his daily snacks like a glass of milk, yoghurt or a fruit; suggesting that they play a game…  But the little boy wants nothing. Nothing but that huge, sharp kitchen knife.

“Look, you can cry all you want, but daddy is not going to give you the knife. It’s dangerous, Mac,” Amy’s voice is definitely stern but nonetheless still calm well aware of the fact that screaming as well won’t get her anywhere. Besides that she also considers herself a structured, punctual but nonetheless also a cool mom: nevertheless enough is enough. She’s really had it by now, hands resting defensively on her hips  as she feels a head ache creeping up on her meanwhile her 3 year old, who’s now lying face down on the kitchen floor, lets out yet another scream.

“Listen to mom, bud,” Jake intervenes the best he can without interrupting his wife’s operation. “She’s super right, you know? The knife is very very sharp and in your small hands it can easily slip and hurt you. We don’t want that.”

Another scream is how he’s thanked for the explanation and Jake, even though he loves his son unconditionally, has to roll his eyes and sigh. Logic is not relevant when you’re working with a toddler, he has learned but nonetheless gives it a try every time they’re back in the arena - only to be disappointed.

They try not to be the kind of parents that scold or punish their kid unless it’s necessary and they but alas this is not one of them. Amy has had it and shares a look of confirmation with her husband before proceeding - she needs him to back her up on this.

“Okay, McClane Santiago-Peralta,” Amy says strictly. Full name? This is the point of no return, Jake knows.

“If you’re going to continue to behave like this then that’s up to you, but that also means it’s time for time-out, because daddy and I don’t know how to help you, when you keep screaming like that.”

God, she hates this side of parenthood and this shade of herself, though she knows it necessary.

“Knife!” Mac cries out rolling onto his back and hitting the floor with the palms of his tiny hands in protest of now both the knife and the time-out.

“I’m not going to keep discussing this with you,” she makes up her mind, picks up her son which results in him screaming/crying even louder while also putting up a fight by wiggling his entire body in his mother’s hold. “If you’re not going to go by yourself, like the big boy I know you usually are, then I’ll have to carry you there.”

And so Amy, knowing that the most important thing right now is that she sticks to her pledges, starts walking out of the kitchen and down the hall towards her son’s room. The wiggling continues, the crying doesn’t come to quit and he even adds kicking into the air as she carries him to the mess of it all. He really doesn’t want to go, even less have his mommy take him there since it’ll mean that he’s really pushed her to the limit.

Then suddenly the next wail he lets out suddenly sends the situation down a completely different path.

“I just want the knife and I- I wuv you, mommy!” her son screams loudly through his cry, face all red and scrunched up as if he was cursing her which by nature results in Amy freezing on the spot, left to wonder what the hell had prompted that outburst.

That one was new, she thinks, and how the hell do you handle this exact situation right? On one hand his previous acts, and the fact that he’s still hysterical, means that he deserves to be sent to his room; on the other hand he just screamed, bloody murder, that he loves her… Parenthood was indeed so confusing sometimes.

A sigh leaves her body.

“I love you too, Mac,” she figures he deserves, and always will deserve, to hear it back - no matter how frustrating and crazy the situation might be.

“And daddy does too, but it’s really hard for us to help you when you scream and cry like that, baby,” she gives explaining the consequences of his tantrum one last shot, and, to her surprise, the boy actually stills in her arms and buries his face into her chest. The cries die out before transitioning to small sniffles and alas Amy sees the opportunity to, perhaps, talk some sense into her son.

“We’d much rather have you use your words, tell mommy and daddy what’s actually wrong, rather than having you scream and cry like this. Do you understand?”

There’s silence but Amy can feel Mac’s tiny head slide up and down in nod against his chest, and relief, although it might still just be a false sense of safety, floods her entire body.

“So, what is actually wrong? Why are you sad?”

“I-“ Mac sniffles trying to mould his thoughts. “I just wanted help daddy make food.”

Of course, she thinks internally rolling her eyes.

“I see,” she nods. “And you can help daddy cook, but next time you’ll have to say it like that. Use your words, okay?”

He nods again before lovingly grasping onto a strand of his mother’s hair.

“Good,” she pecks the top of his head. “Now,” she cranes her neck to look down at her son’s face where it’s half buried into her tear-stained shirt. “Do you want to be in your room by yourself for a bit to calm down, or do you want to come help me and daddy clean the kitchen and set the table?”

“I wan’ help,” he mumbles obviously lacking energy after spending it all throwing the tantrum, but if he wants to be with them and redeem himself then Amy won’t be the one to stop him. It took a while, but Amy always tries to remember that he’s still very little meaning that it’s inevitable that some social skills aren’t fully developed. So whenever he can come to his senses, with his parents guidance or not, Amy will of course be the first one to endorse it.

“I’m glad to hear that,” she walks back towards the kitchen with Mac resting silently in her arms.

A third memory that pops into Amy’s mind upon trying to remember the many random moment’s where her son has shared his love for her out loud and of the blue (Peralta-stylez), is one time (of the many) they went grocery shopping together. They’d been wandering around the big grocery store, her and Mac, targeting the cereal aisle, hand in hand with a basket in Amy’s free hand.

“Okay, since you and daddy ate the last of the Fruit Loops this morning we need to get some cereal. You think you can help me with that?” she looks down at her son who’s already looking up to meet her eyes. Mac’s enchanting glimmering eyes instantly light up at the thought of responsibility, a trait he’s definitely inherited from her, and prompts an eager nod. Before she can even say or explain further, which he probably doesn’t actually need her to, he’s let go of her hand.

“More Fwuit Loops!” he exclaims happily as his tiny legs take him ahead, down the aisle, to reach the mosaic of colourful cereal-boxes.

“Sure, if that’s what you want, babe, but maybe…” she walks towards him, "we could try something else for once?” she tries to not be too strict about her son’s eating habits, especially when she knows Fruit Loops is usually the only straight up sugary stuff he eats daily, but also, she has to admit, secretly wishes she could perhaps trick him and Jake to eat something just a bit less… candy-like.

“What?” he stops and looks at her with a frown. “Something else?”

“Yeah,” she catches up with him and looks as the many options before him. “Like… bran-flakes, maybe? They look yummy, right?”

Either Amy is a really bad actor or her son simply too smart, but nonetheless Mac looks more than quite unimpressed when his mom pulls a boring, brown box out from the shelf to showcase it

“I donno want brain-flakes ew, mommy” and the face Mac makes, a face of utter disgust, would be way more solid proof than a paternity test if one was needed - he is definitely, without a single doubt, Jake Peralta’s son - and she definitely can’t help but chuckle at the similarity he constantly carries with him.

The tiny human’s hand starts dancing across all the different packages, probably gathering himself a good dose of various germs that in the moment Amy can’t make herself care about, and every now and then he’ll stop to study a cereal that’s caught his child-brain and eyes’ attention.

“There are so many to choose from, huh babe?” she encourages but keeping her distance as to be supportive of him doing something on his own, independent like a big boy.

First he stops in front of the Cheerios, which Amy can totally be content with, but alas he quickly, to Amy’s chagrin, puts them back in their spot. Then come the Frosted Flakes with their blue box and cute tiger cartoon (the perfect child-trap) which, if possible, are even worse than Fruit Loops. Amy unconsciously frowns at the thought of having to rip the box of cereal from her son’s grip when he in a few seconds won’t let go and instead grab the Bran Flakes. But to Amy’s great relief Mac’s finger continue their trip down past the tiger-trap, mindlessly mumbling small nothings to himself that she can’t quite make out. Then, all at once seeming way more determined than with previous ones, Mac throws himself at a bright and colourful box.

“These!” he exclaims jumping up and down on the spot with the held over his head in victory.

As soon as she gets a closer look, having gently grabbed the box from her son, it dawns on Amy that Jake Peralta being the father of her child isn’t exclusively beneficial. Not when their child is asking for Sour Patch Kids morning cereal and Amy knows it’s because he’s inspired by his dad as Jake will gladly share his candy with his son whenever he happens to have some.

“Oh, baby… “ Amy tries to keep up a neutral face as to not reveal how she dreads to get something that’s somehow even worse than the king of artificial ingredients, Fruit Loops, and sultan of sugar, Frosted Flakes, combined. “You sure you don’t just wanna get the Fruit Loops then? I don’t think you’ll like Sour Patch Kids.”

“Yes I do! I eat them with daddy all the time!”

Of course.

Her son is completely oblivious to her dread and shines proudly thinking he’s pleased his mom by finding something new (which it is - Amy can’t deny that) to have for breakfast. And Amy’s mom-heart can’t get herself to contradict her son’s persuasion of the fact that he’s accomplished the mission she set up for him. No way. Not when his face flows with pride like it does now.

“Okay,” she surrenders with a forsaken smile. “We can get these, but they’re very sugary so only for weekend mornings, got it?” she puts her hand forward as to shake on the deal.

Either it’s the handshake that takes his mind off of it, or her 3-year old actually somehow understands nutritional values, but he doesn’t flinch, doesn’t hesitate to meet her hand with his own, agreeing with her proposed deal. Immediately after she hands him back the box, it’s a mystery to Amy how such a simple thing can make her son that happy, he beams with excitement and basically hugs the box of sugary sweetness. Amy has to chuckle and then he’s off again to do his own little thing, prancing down the remains of the aisle chanting a made-up song, Amy guesses, to himself.

“Cereal. Breakfast. I love cereal. I love breakfast. I love mommy and mommy loves cereal and me and daddy and breakfast. Cereal, cereal, cereal!”

And to her, and Jake’s, sheer luck Amy manages to snap a short video of it for them to enjoy and fuss about for years.

That same night, Friday, they’re all lounging on the couch watching a movie. Tangled as per Mr. Mac’s demand because “Flynn Eugene whatever is really cool and the pretty princess hits him with a pan and the horse and green little thing are super fun too.”

So, needing no further arguments, they watch Tangled and snack on Sour Patch Kids (the candy, not the cereal) that Jake had bought on his way home from work after Amy had texted him about their adventure at the grocery store, attaching the video of their son singing.

Although, after a long day, by the time the lanterns in the movie light up the dark sky while Rapunzel and Flynn sing to each other, Mac is half, almost completely, passed out with his head in Amy’s lap and legs stretched across his father’s. Mommy stroking your face and playing with your curls turns out to be very soothing and sleep-inducing. Jake can also, if asked to testify, agree with this fact. Guess there’s something special about Peralta-curls Amy simply can’t resist.

“Ames, I think he’s asleep,” Jake whispers discreetly throwing his wife a knowing smile when he notices his son’s current state.

She, having not noticed being too busy watching the movie, looks down and sees, indeed, a sweet angel face with shut eyes and pouty lips that indicated that her son is, if not entirely, on the verge of being asleep. Nevertheless, every 30 seconds or so, his eyes will flutter just a bit, like tiny butterfly wings, as if he’s fighting to see the end of the movie - a movie he’s seen 134 times already.

“You want to go to bed, Mac?” she coos leaning down to peck his temple.

“Nu-uh,” he fights off the urge to say yes, Amy can tell.

“You sure?” she tries again.

He nods heavily in her lap, shuffling a bit in an attempt to get comfortable enough to, Amy knows, fall asleep. But he can’t seem to find the right spot, is surely overtired too and both parents can tell it’s a matter of minutes before he’ll give in to either fall asleep on the couch or demand to be put to bed.

And they’re right.

“Mommy,” he mumbles in the most exhausted and soft soft voice that makes Amy’s heart flutter time after time. “I love you but I wanna sleep - in my bed.”

Those three words, especially coming from Mac, will never seize to send a tiny jolt of joy and dopamine through her entire being. She chuckles softly stroking his back.

“That’s okay, baby. We’ve had a long day. Let's get you to bed.”

“Okay, I love you mommy. And daddy. Love,” he passes out before he can finish the sentence and won’t even notice his father carrying him to bed while Amy gazes after them with loving eyes.

Even three years in, four if you count the pregnancy, she can’t believe this sweet, beautiful and smart boy is hers. A bundle of love that is half her and half the man she loves the most (next to Mac himself, of course). Parenthood is an irregular graph with ups and down, but they have so much love that it’ll make up for the bad days and hard cases. In the very end the most important thing is that he, Mac Santiago-Peralta with his brown curly hair, tiny nose and deep brown eyes, is here and he’s theirs. Not only is he theirs but he is his own and he loves them, his parents, so much, every day. Plus, he’s so good at actually expressing it that Amy can’t help but feel like they’re definitely doing something right. She’s proud to know her son is surrounded by so much love that it has planted a seed that everyday blooms within him, making him spill over and spread his care and love to other people.

So, yes, Amy Santiago is 100% sure: she is definitely the luckiest, most loved mom in the entire universe. Mac Santiago-Peralta will always make sure of this.