#this fic is a masterpiece
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Coming straight out of new Heatwaves chapter and then bumping into +10 Aruani posts
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What fic are you reading? Send us the link don't be shy
It's a 2ha/Husky and his White Cat Shizun fic!
Amazing. Chefs kiss.
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Casino-DressCode
Excited for the Casino Party in the upcoming chapter “Of Saints and Sinners” by @morningstarwrites 🫶
It was meant to be a sketch…
#don’t mind the messy lines#I just went with it#first time drawing the others as well so dunno if they turned out good#hope you like it#also go and read that wonderful masterpiece#it’ll rock your world#radioapple#alastor x lucifer#appleradio#alastor and lucifer#huskerdust#chaggie#Hazbin Hotel#Hazbin Hotel Fanart#Fanart#my art#art for fic
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It’s very humbling when you’re reading a book —part of a trilogy, very acclaimed— and the only thing you can think of is ‘the fanfic I read the other day was better’
#like#nothing against the book of course#but I figured out the plot twist about 20 pages in#the chemistry between the MC and the love interest just wasn’t being very chemistry-y#and the plot wasn’t even that great when I compared it to the absolute MASTERPIECE I found on ao3 the other day#yes it was a sterek fic#of course there are books that are very good. this just wasn’t one of them and I struggled understanding why it’s so popular#on reading#patolemus speaks#ao3#fanfic
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this. is fucking crazy. u wrote seungkwan so perfectly? i’m in love with this fic completely like every word of it. i love it all ahhhhhh
not-so-secret glances IIbskII pt.2
summary- After last night's teasing, you decide to get back at your boyfriend. Big mistake.
A gentle breeze, warm sunlight, tangled bodies. You loved waking up to mornings like this. Loved waking up wrapped in Seungkwan's arms. After last night's escapades, though, your body was exhausted. Having three orgasms ripped out of you in succession was no easy feat- especially for someone as sensitive and responsive as you were, but you managed it for him. Anything for him.
You loved Seungkwan, you really did, but god sometimes you couldn't keep up with how intense he was in bed. Perhaps it was time to show him what it felt like.
That would be your worst idea by far.
You wriggle out from under his arms, careful so as not to wake him from his slumber just yet, and slip under the blanket draped over his lower body.
He's hard already. Ugh, men.
Tentatively, you tug his shorts down, watching as his length springs free right away. You lick your lips.
You shuffle forward on your hands and knees, head dipping lower as you nuzzle against his thigh. He murmurs something under his breath, moving ever so slightly, and your eyes widen.
"kwannie?" you call, softly.
When there's no response on his end, you breathe a sigh of relief. Okay. This needs to happen before he wakes up, or he'll find some way to get back in control.
Your lips stretch urgently around the girth of his cock, tongue flicking against the slit before you take him in, inch by inch. The warmth of your mouth must've caught him off guard, considering the surprised gasp that left his lips. A hand reaches under the blanket to grab your hair, and you feel the heavy cover peeled back to reveal your face.
"dirty girl," he mumbles through parted lips, "c'mere"
When you refuse, sticking firmly in place, he cocks a brow at you but lets you continue regardless. You look up at him through your lashes, sinking your mouth lower onto his length. This was going to be so much fun.
You move your head up and down, sucking him off tantalisingly slow. Seungkwan's hips buck up into your mouth and you can't help but moan around him, sending shivers across his skin.
"what's gotten into you today, baby?"
You don't respond. Can't respond. So you spare him a glance, mischief dancing behind your blown pupils. Without warning, you bob your head up and down, faster and faster, hands placed on his inner thighs to keep him steady. His breathing grows shallow, and the arm resting in your hair slips away, fisting the sheets instead.
Your cunt glistens when you feel his cock throb in your mouth, and you know he's close. That all too familiar twitch of his length, the way his head tips back, his ragged breathing- he was so close.
So close he could almost feel it. Seungkwan stood over the edge of pleasure, ready to tip in any moment now. He jerked up into your mouth, groaning, nearly there, almost there-
Until he isn't.
You pull off his cock with an innocent 'pop' and a sly grin. Seungkwan stares down at you.
"what the fuc-"
Scrambling your way out from under the blanket, you giggle, in a pathetic attempt to run away. You make it off the bed, scurrying towards the door, but he's just a bit faster than you are. Before you can move further, Seungkwan's arms tug at your waist, pulling you flush against him.
It's a seemingly wholesome back hug, but the unmoving grasp of his embrace tells a whole other story.
You wiggle, trying to break free, though in vain. Despite trying your best, he remains unmoved, and you realize just how much stronger he is. He's bigger and stronger and oh this is going to be so much fun.
A squeal slips past your lips when you feel your limbs lift off the ground. Seungkwan picks you up, effortlessly, and tosses you back onto the bed. The look in his eyes is unrecognizable, unreadable.
"take your clothes off"
"what if I d-"
He grabs your face, staring into your eyes wordlessly, and you feel incredibly small under him. All you can do is stare back with wide eyes- taken aback by how quickly he'd turned the tables around.
"do I need to repeat myself, sweetheart?"
Frantically, you shake your head, yanking off your (his) shirt and tugging your panties down. He untangles them from your limbs, scrunching the satin fabric into a ball before hooking his thumb into your jaw and shoving it into your mouth. You moan, feeling a familiar heat pool between your legs, and his lips quirk up into a smirk.
Seungkwan pulls back, clasping your ankles and tugging you forward. He levels his hips with yours, biting his lip as he sneaks the head of his cock between your folds.
You whimper, rutting up for something, anything.
"you're gonna keep that pretty mouth shut- not a fucking sound, am I clear?"
You nod, wide eyed.
Without warning, Seungkwan snaps his hips into yours, shoving his length into you in one harsh thrust. You cry out, fisting the sheets under you and his jaw clenches.
"I said-" he reaches over, "keep. your fucking mouth. shut." He clasps his hand around your throat, squeezing as his hips slam repeatedly into you, cock bullying it's way into your sopping cunt.
Tears prick the corners of your eyes, threatening to spill any moment now. You bite down on the lace of your panties, trying your best to keep quiet- but god it's hard with how Seungkwan fucks you into oblivion.
His pretty lips curl into a twisted smile, "so you can follow basic instructions," he snarls, "baby's not as dumb as I thought"
You stifle a whimper when the head of his cock kisses your cervix, pushing so deep you can see the way it moves inside you. Seungkwan seems to have noticed this too, and he let's out a dark chuckle, before pushing down on your tummy.
The force has you reeling. You can feel the drag of his cock within your walls, the oh-so-delicious stretch of your cunt around him, and it takes everything in you to keep the sounds from clawing their way up your throat.
"that's it baby- fuck that's it" he grits, pummelling into you.
A wave of relief crashes over you within minutes, and Seungkwan follows soon after, rutting into you to chase his high. It has your cunt aching so good.
"gonna fill you up- fuck-" he groans, thrusting one last time before releasing himself into you.
You sigh, drool slipping through the scrunched fabric, and he chuckles.
"fucking knew you'd like that"
A protest bubbles up in your throat, muffled by your panties. He grins.
"sorry, what was that? didn't quite catch ya"
You grimace, pulling the wet fabric out of your mouth, and just as you're about to speak, Seungkwan draws his hips back into motion, slamming into you once again.
A choked moan leaves your lips, sparks shooting all over your body. The wetness of your cum and his coats your inner thighs as he plunges in and out of you, a creamy white ring forming at the base of his cock.
You barely register how his hand lets go of your neck until you feel him pressing down on your clit, coaxing another orgasm out of you at breakneck speed. His thumb pushes firmly against your aching clit, dragging tight circles around it, sending you over the edge.
The way your walls flutter around him, pulling him in deeper, has him moving even faster, drawing his own orgasm out right after yours. Wet noises, the smell of sex, his groans and your whimpers- it all felt so dirty. You didn't mind one bit, though. Not at all.
"so fucking tight- you were made for me fu-" he breaks off, filling you up with his cum, hips still working in and out of you, until your legs twitch from how sensitive you are.
He's silent for a minute, pulling out of you and staring at the mess between your legs. It's almost as if his brain short circuits at the sight of your ruined cunt- all sticky and messy cause of him. He caused that. He caused that and he knew no one else could.
"kwannie" you whine, pulling your legs close when he doesn't stop looking, "stop staring"
"if you could see yourself right now, sweetheart, trust me- you'd be the same" Seungkwan makes a mental note to fuck you in front of mirror sometime soon as he speaks. God, the way your pretty hole fluttered around nothing, spurts of his cum dripping out so messily, had him transfixed. He couldn't help when his hands moved on their own, shoving his cum back into you. You cry out, body jolting upright at the stimulation, and he relents, showing mercy.
For now.
"enoughh-" you whine, "c'mon let's get cleaned up, okay?"
A sickly-sweet grin takes over his features and you feel your stomach drop. Surely he'd clean you up, right?
"kwannie, you are cleaning me up, aren't you?"
Yanking his shorts back on as he grabs a tissue from his bedside table, Seungkwan pouts.
"aw baby" he coos, "I want to, I really do, but unfortunately it's out of my control-" The condescending tone of his voice has you on edge. "you were so bad today, doll- disobedient, bratty, trying to tease your poor kwannie,"
He saunters his way back between your legs, yanking one of your limbs over his shoulder to wipe at the cum on your thighs.
"surely you don't think that's going unpunished, sweetheart?"
Your breath hitches. Punishment. Right. Hadn't thought that far ahead.
"that dumb little brain of yours didn't consider the aftermath of your actions, did it?" he smirks, tossing the tissue aside before pushing your legs shut.
"here's what's gonna happen, m'kay?" The blanket is pulled away from you as he starts folding it. "I'm gonna go to work, and you're gonna keep my cum inside you till I get home- am I clear? Put on some panties, dress yourself, finish up your chores and your shopping, and keep it all inside. It better be there when I get back, doll"
Your jaw hits the floor. He could be mean, you knew, but this? How was this even possible?
There's a pause.
"am I clear, y/n"
"kwannie m'sorr-" you try, but he interrupts.
"sorry, sorry" he mimics, a pout taking over his face for a second before it straightens into an evil smirk, "should've been a good girl, hm?"
It's safe to say you had the worst day ever. While Seungkwan dressed himself and left for work, you were stuck at home clenching painfully as you followed his orders.
You wanted to be good.
The twinge of disappointment you felt when he called you a bad girl made you want to cry. Had he been at home, you would've spent all day showing him just how good you could be- but he wasn't. He left home with that same icy smirk on his face, the same cold cruelty, and you hated it.
It was 7 in the evening when you finally finished all your chores and shopping like he told you to. They would've been over much faster if you didn't have to hold his cum from dripping out of you the entire time, but oh well- you girlbossed a little too close to the sun this morning, and you had to pay the price, even if it burned.
Sure, you were completely humiliated at the supermarket when you whimpered through your conversation with the cashier. Sure, you couldn't eat in peace with how hard you tensed your stomach. Sure, it hurt to walk more than three steps- but you weren't complaining. Not one bit. Wanted to be a good girl for kwannie, didn't you?
Sitting on the couch, thighs smushed uncomfortably, you perked up at at the sound of keys jangling in your doorway.
He was home.
After hours of pure torture, Seungkwan was finally home.
"kwannie!" you squealed, running over to pull him into a hug, "you're home"
A soft smile plays at his lips at your eagerness. It was cute, really, seeing you so excited to have him home, even after only a few hours.
"missed you too, sweetheart"
You throw your arms around his neck and he places a soft kiss to your forehead before hoisting you up by your thighs.
"I was so good today, y'know?" you beam up at him innocent as ever, "kept it all inside for you kwannie"
His eyes darken. "you're going to be the death of me"
Within seconds, you found yourself being carried into the bedroom, panting already as he tossed you on the bed. He moans when he sees how you're only wearing panties under your shirt, and he sinks down at the foot of the bed, kneeling before you.
"gonna check, 'kay sweetheart? gonna see if your pussy's still as pretty as I left it, hm?"
You nod, throwing an arm over your head. His fingers slip over your thighs before deftly peeling your underwear down your legs, nails grazing your soft skin as he slid them all the way down to your ankles. He places a chaste kiss there, briefly pausing to toss your panties aside, and the sight that welcomes him has his lungs sucked of air.
Your pretty hole spasmed under his gaze, white streaks of cum glaringly evident all around it. His mouth went dry at the sight.
"fuck," you hear his whisper as a shudder works its way through him.
"so pretty," his breaths tickle the skin of your thigh, "m gonna eat it out of you now, okay doll? gonna clean you up really fucking good with my tongue- that what you want?"
"please," Your whimpers are pathetic, but you don't care. You've been aching for him all day.
Wasting no time, Seungkwan pushes himself to your cunt, slurping at your slit so noisily you can't help the rush of crimson that makes its way to your cheeks. His tongue dips into your hole, collecting the remnants of your combined arousal, before lapping away at your clit.
"kwa- oh my god kwannie please-" you moan, hands flying to his head to hold him in place, "fuck, don't s-stop"
He grins against you, continuing his assault on your clit. The way his mouth works you to your high has you breathless. Your nerves feel alive with electricity, your body feels stiff- waiting for release, your heart thuds against your chest. No man has ever made you feel this way. You hope that's how it stays.
"pretty, so fucking pretty" he mumbles into your cunt, the sound reverberating up through your body.
Sensitivity leads your thighs to tense up, closing in around him, but he pays them no mind, spreading you open even further on his tongue. Your eyes roll to the back of your head, vision turning white as he devours you.
"m'close- kwa- oh"
He shoves his tongue into you, nose bumping into your clit while he drinks you in. The drag of his tongue against your creamy walls is nothing short of delectable.
For both you and him.
You taste divine. Unreal. Seungkwan wonders what he's done to deserve someone as otherworldly as you. You with your pretty face, your cute little whimpers- god he was putty in your hands.
As your moans grow louder, hole squeezing around his tongue, he knows you're close. His hands tug your lips apart as he moves faster inside you, and within seconds, you feel a wave of relief wash over you. Your body grows lip atop the bed, and your legs twitch helplessly.
"there we go," he coos, "that's my good girl" and you can't help but feel a swell of pride in your chest.
You're his good girl. Only his.
"let's get you cleaned up, sweetheart"
#like 73527288/10#please never stop writing for kwannie#ily op#this fic is a masterpiece#dom kwan supremacy always
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scenes i loved from Real Enough to Get Me Through by @marriedzukka <333 [ids in alt]
#zukka#zukka fanart#sokka#sokka fanart#zuko#zuko fanart#atla#atla fanart#avatar the last airbender#zukka fic rec#myart#yall. yall. dani. this FIC#first off it made me cry twice. not like 'oh im crying' internet speak no. like. eyes are too blurry to read let me stop this for a sec#it is SO GOOD#your prose? amazing#your insights on grief? life changing#THEM??? THEM their relationship and trust#'zuko looked at him and his world shifted on its axis'#ive been thinking about that line for WEEKS STRAIGHT#i can't tell you how many passages i screenshot just because of how beautiful or cute they were#the moment of seeing the painting of sokka's mom? how did you manage to make it so telling character wise--so sweet so PAINful AND so#cute with their relationship?!!?!#'oh so you think i'm beautiful too'#GOD#i had so many scenes i wanted to draw it was crazy#also#'Our loved ones leave impressions on us that can still impact our decisions and feelings even after they're gone'#fuck. had me crying AGAIN#seriously this fic is so wonderful and not just through a zukka lens. truly life changing you're an AMAZING writer#the fandom is so lucky to have you and i can't Believe it took me so long to get around to reading this masterpiece
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Was reading ‘The Uses of Adversity’ for the twentieth time and just realized… the firework (contractor) guys are Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen!!!! (Honestly did not comprehend- reloaded the page to make sure I didn’t imagine it and it was still there) 😂😂
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SKILLED FINGERS
Pairing. Sonic x reader, Shadow x reader, Silver x reader, Knuckles x reader
Content. fem!reader. the way they would unclasp a bra. suggestiveness, nsfw. silver’s the shortest but the freakiest hehe. kinda ooc characters. MDNI
Word count. 1.5 k
A/N. I suddenly had the urge to write about this while talking with a friend abt how there’s men who can unclasp a bra with one hand but there are others who really struggle hehe so yeah!! i had quite the time of my life writing this sjdjs and the playlist filled with sex songs really inspired me, so, here!!
+ I was quite surprised with silver’s!!!! my hands moved on its own ! and the one with shadow, i actually got inspired from a fanart i saw on pinterest 🥵 so yeah, i did my research JDJDJSJ
++ I also wrote this while being REALLY sick so forgive me if there’s something poor written :( not beta read !!
SONIC
He gets really excited, and actually knows how to do it but because he’s impatient he can’t find it in himself to take his time
Both of them came back from a mission on green hill. The truth was that Sonic had actually gone to another place for a week now, this was the first time they saw each other after a week, and spending their first moments fighting wasn’t her cup of tea.
But now they were coming home.
Panting into each other’s mouths, his body guiding her to the edge of their bed. His hands were everywhere at the same time, his heartbeat was quick as he kept kissing her. Without parting, she got on her knees on the bed, Sonic quickly followed her.
They both were now kissing on their knees, her hands roaming around his back, playing carefully with his quills, then coming up to cup his face, caressing his cheeks.
The blue hedgehog took the girl from her waist and pulled her close, until she was almost sitting on his lap, both her knees on the sides of his thighs. Taking her top off of her in such a hurried way, she thought he was about to rip the piece of cloth from her body. The man was so excited, impatient. Parting from her lips for a moment, his hand roamed on her back, finding the clasp of her bra quickly.
Giving her a smirk with hooded eyes, he started moving the clasp around, back and forth, pulling, pushing. Nothing. The girl came back from her dazed state and noticed that Sonic was actually having a hard time taking the undergarment off of her.
Waiting for a bit, looking at his concentrated eyes, she started to giggle a bit.
“Need assistance, love?” She asked, her hand going to her own back to end the blue hedgehog’s suffering.
But Sonic had none of that. He slapped her hand away and groaned. “I can do it! I’ve taken it off of you other times, why can’t… I… Now?” He struggled, his voice getting desperate.
She let him keep on trying until she couldn't wait any more. Sliding her own hand towards the clasp, she undid the bra easily. Sonic murmured a low “mhm”, as he continued on kissing her chest, stomach, sliding down. He looked at her with hooded eyes, his face pressed against her thigh as he admired the view.
“Gorgeous.” He winked, brushing his lips on her skin as he started doing hickeys on her thighs. If there was something Sonic quite enjoyed, it was teasing. And it showed.
SHADOW
VERY SKILLED. Doesn’t exactly know why he knows how to do it, but he’s cocky about it, nonetheless.
Shadow had just gotten home from beating the shit out of Sonic. It was a hobby at this point, not even something necessary. He came through the door stretching his arms over his head as he walked into the kitchen.
His significant other was making dinner, thank chaos because he was actually getting very hungry from the previous activities. Smiling at him, the girl looked up from the stove, as she turned it off.
“My love! How was hunting Sonic?” She asked jokingly, as Shadow got close to her, carrying her to sit on the counter, his gloved hand taking her face using his thumb and index finger to hold her chin.
“I still have lots of energy, mhm.” He replied huskily on her ear, as he kissed her cheek, then her jaw and last her neck. “Are you going to do something about it?”
After a few more words from him and a couple of kisses down her clavicle, the room got quite hot, and it wasn’t for her cooking.
“Mhm, Shadow… The food.” The girl tried to complain.
“Shh, I'm having quite the feast here, doll.” He replied simply, his mouth still latched on her skin.
In seconds, Shadow put his hand in front of her. She knew exactly what he wanted. Using her teeth, she chewed the tip of his white glove, taking it off slowly. His breath hitched for a second.
Because that was a rule when being intimate: No clothes between both of them. Including his gloves.
As his hands returned on her body, he touched her naked back. She quickly felt his fingers looking for the clasp of her bra. She was about to offer to take it off herself, when he found it, the thing gave in rather quickly, making her gasp.
Shadow looked at her in the eye, his eyes scanned her flustered expression and smiled cockily. Sliding the straps off her shoulders, slowly, teasingly. She could actually feel his heartbeat as her hands pressed against his chest. The hand that wasn’t sliding the strap was caressing her thigh. His lips pressed as he stared at her chest.
A glint showed on his red irises. Oh man.
SILVER
Not very skilled with his fingers BUT he uses psychokinesis ofc
The girl knew she wasn’t playing fair, but she wanted to push as many buttons as she could. Actually buying those pheromones she saw on the internet, and this could go either too good or nothing could happen. She didn’t believe there were any bad consequences for her actions.
Until now.
Well, it wasn’t that bad…
But the way Silver’s face was actually smashed on her neck, licking, biting, kissing and more made her brain turn into a non thinkable goo. He couldn’t keep his hands to himself, grabbing, caressing her skin, like he wanted to combine both their bodies.
Not only that, but he was rutting against her leg, desperate whining noises coming from his throat. The girl was losing it too, but it was obvious his body was actually on fire. His cheeks blushed a pretty red, and he actually managed to drool all over her sternum.
Her hand threaded on his quills, sliding down until she could feel his chest fur. Doing an experimental tug, the man nearly came on the spot. A breathless moan left his lips as he continued panting over her, his hands positioned on either side of her head.
The girl kissed him hungrily, getting excited by the whole situation.
“Love…” She tried speaking but Silver grunted, taking his girlfriend with one arm under her back, making her sit in front of him. His pupils were blown and his breathing was accelerated. He had no time to think about that damn clasp, so he snapped one of his fingers, the cyan aura forming on his hand and then, the girl felt the bra fall off her chest.
Using his psychokinesis to do such a thing turned her on, she wondered what else he could do with such power.
KNUCKLES
He just rips it off
It was common knowledge that Knuckles wasn’t the most patient or delicate guy, especially when it came to having intimate moments like this one. Rouge threw a little party for her birthday, everyone was invited and, being the showy bat she was, it was quite a formal party. So the girl decided she was about to go wild with her dress.
The piece she wore was a deep green, sleeveless dress. The neck of the dress was high, the thing hugging her curves. it looked rather simple until you looked at the back of it, a slit running all down the low back. It was gorgeous, and she felt untouchable with such a piece.
Amy actually helped her choose the dress, and she also recommended using a specific type of bra so it wouldn’t be noticeable. The straps turned and twisted, it was something difficult to put on, but she didn’t mind, as long as she looked good in the dress.
And now it was time for the reveal. Knuckles actually wanted to wear something nice, so he dressed up (she helped him choose his outfit. He also asked to help her with hers but she declined saying she had a surprise for him).
Walking out of the room, the girl walked confidently towards her boyfriend sitting on the sofa, his legs spread and his elbows were positioned on his thighs, making him lean forwards. Too caught up in his mind, he didn’t notice until the girl was beside him. She cleared her throat and that did the trick.
His eyes flew open as he got up from the sofa, walking towards his partner.
“My… You look gorgeous.” He said, kissing her cheek, that’s when he positioned a hand on her back noticing the slit. He swallowed, nervously. “Say, doll, what if we arrive a few minutes late?”
He asked, his hands starting to roam, sitting on her butt. The girl smiled, patting his chest. “Rouge will kill us if we arrive late.”
Knuckles hissed, finding a button that undid her whole dress. “I think we’d survive.” Were his last words before he carried the girl to bed.
Kissing and palming all over her, the man took a look at her bra and without a second notice, he ripped it off from her. She let out a surprised gasp.
“Now how am I going to use the dress, Knux!” She exclaimed, feeling him grin, his breath caressing her chest.
“Use it without that bra, it would look better, doll.”
#the knuckles one was a full on fic JSJDJSJ#THE SHADOW ONE AAAA#the mental image of him being like this#while writing it i didn’t know if it suited his character so id say its quite ooc#also bcs he’s my favorite and i made him the one with a lucky first try#anywayyyy i hope you enjoy the meal!!#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sonic the hedgehog x reader#sonic x reader#shadow#shadow the hedgehog#shadow the hedgehog x reader#shadow x reader#knuckles#knuckles the echidna#knuckles the echidna x reader#knuckles x reader#silver#silver the hedgehog#silver the hedgehog x reader#silver x reader#arah ⊚ not safe for work#arah ⊚ masterpieces
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I feel stupidly giddy over this. It’s just so wonderful and amazingly written!
Catching Up To Do
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Reader (gender neutral)
Word Count: 8122
Warnings: Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff
Description: Happens during their 7th year.
It’d been a hard year. Well, almost two really, but who was actually counting?
You were. And Ominis. It felt like the two of you kept track of each second Sebastian was gone. Not just gone, disappeared. After Solomon had been killed in the catacomb, triggering Anne’s departure, Sebastian just…vanished. Not a word to either of you.
You’d spent those first few months searching. Every night, every holiday, every weekend. You and Ominis would hole up in the cold, empty Sallow home, praying he’d wander in. He’d made some awful, terrible, wicked decisions, but every night you spent flying over the hamlets, all you could see were his wide eyes as he watched Anne cradle Solomon’s lifeless body. He’d just been a boy, helpless, trying to save something he loved more than life when it seemed everyone else had given up. It’s like he’d been stuck in quicksand, the harder he fought, the faster he sank.
At first, you were angry. Angry at him for leaving you and Ominis to pick up the pieces, angry at him for pushing things so far, angry at yourself for letting him. You’d fooled yourself, believing he’d stop if you were serious enough, believing your words would be able to change his trajectory. You were wrong.
After the anger, came the sorrow, great heaving waves that would crash down on you, beating your battered body against the ocean floor. Some nights you’d find yourself sobbing into Ominis’s shoulder, hating yourself for your weakness, surprised Ominis didn’t hate you too.
Eventually, your sorrow became a deep loneliness. A hollow feeling in your chest, driving you to keep searching, everywhere, anywhere. You imagined that this loneliness may have been something akin to the driving force Sebastian felt. Underneath all that rage, had been a terrible, all consuming loneliness. He’d simply missed his sister, just as you now missed him.
After a year, you stopped. You couldn’t do it anymore, breaking your own heart night after night, cursing the heavens for their cruelty. It was too much, and you hated yourself even more for it.
Ominis continued to search. Not as often, but you knew there were nights he’d walk the dark streets of Feldcroft, hoping to catch a glimpse of messy brunette hair, atop a mischievous freckled smile.
He knew you stopped, and he never faulted you for it. Never blamed you for anything, simply acknowledged your actions with a quiet understanding. Even though you didn’t go looking anymore, you’d still catch yourself gazing at the gates or searching the crowded halls, disappointed every time.
—-------
The start of your 7th year was uneventful. You greeted your friends with enthusiasm, some already lamenting that this was your final year together before life led you elsewhere. You’d laugh, telling them to slow down and focus on classes before planning any goodbye parties.
You’d spent the first week welcoming the first years, catching up with your housemates, and studiously ignoring the haunting visage of broad shoulders and brown locks, disappearing into crowded corridors. These brief hallucinations were nothing new, and you vowed to enjoy your final year, despite their frequent occurrences.
You’d spent far too long chasing ghosts, perhaps it was time to move on.
—-------
You were charging down the steps of Central Hall, incredibly late for Herbology, having fallen asleep in The History of Magic, again. Several books and loose notes were clutched in your arms, many just barely hanging on by the edges.
You weren’t paying attention to your surroundings in the slightest, nearly falling headfirst over the handrail in order to avoid barreling into anyone.
Successfully shoving your way through a group of Quidditch players, you emerge, only to ram your face right into a hard chest. Dropping your supplies, you yelp in pain and cover your nose, afraid you’d broken it and would need to head to the Hospital Wing. You doubled over, shooting off some incredibly creative expletives you were sure would make even the Hogshead regulars blush.
Squinting through your tears, you could see that the stranger had stopped, having used Levioso to catch all your books. You start spewing apologies, while repeatedly thanking them for gathering your belongings. You still hadn’t looked to see who you’d bumped into, the figure being much too tall to be anyone you knew. Determining that your nose wasn’t broken, you blink away the remaining tears and go to grab your books from the kind man. He’d had yet to say anything, and patiently stood, unmoving in front of you.
Looking up, you attempt to apologize once more, when the words die in your throat. The boy…man, standing in front of you was significantly taller than the last time you’d seen him, your eyes level with his chest. Some of the youthfulness had disappeared from his face, leaving a chiseled jaw and prominent cheekbones, his freckles accentuating their contour. You struggled to take in oxygen as your eyes scanned his face, subconsciously noting a new scar decorating his brow, and another faint one across the bridge of his nose.
You stood there frozen, having completely forgotten your earlier rush, trying to figure out if your grief had taken your hallucinations to a whole new level. Perhaps you really did need to go to the Hospital Wing after all.
He looked back at you just as silently, face stoic and unreadable, but never taking his gaze away from you. His eyes darted around your face, as if he was memorizing you, noting the changes he saw, lingering on your lips for a fraction of a second before darting away.
A book still hung suspended in the air in front of you, forgotten as you studied each other, the room and bustling students fading away until it was just the two of you. You stood there with wide eyes, watering with the need to blink, but refusing to do so lest he disappear again.
A small whimper escapes your lips, and you see his eyebrow twitch at the noise, hands and jaw clenching as you take in a shaky breath.
“Se…bastian?” You whispered his name quietly. So quietly, you weren’t entirely sure if you’d spoken at all. He blinked, and suddenly the spell was broken. His face became stony, and he used his wand to place your remaining book into your arms before brushing past you. You thought you heard him grumble ‘You’re late’ as he passed, but couldn’t quite hear him over the blood rushing in your ears.
He left you standing dumbstruck, staring at the space he’d just occupied, startling when you felt something wet hit the back of your hand. You brought that hand up to your face, feeling the wet tracks sliding silently down your cheeks, unsure of when you’d started crying.
—-------
You’d walked in a daze to Herbology, miraculously managing to still make it on time. Professor Garlick set to reviewing a few key points from the previous year before starting the lesson, which you barely paid attention to, instead operating completely on autopilot until the class had ended. You continued on like that for the rest of the day, many of your friends asking what had happened, but only receiving a distracted ‘nothing’ in return.
Wandering down to the Undercroft, you hoped Ominis would be there, if only to tell you that you’d finally gone mad and it was all in your head. You failed to hear two voices rising in volume as you descended into the room, unable to take your wide eyes off the floor, where they’d lingered all day.
The gate opened and you shuffled forward, the tense voices immediately halting as you spoke.
“Ominis, I-I think I saw S-...oh.” Your eyes dragged themselves from the floor, landing on the scene before you. Sebastian and Ominis stand, staring at you from the center of the room. You’d clearly just interrupted a very heated conversation, judging from the furrowed brows and angry flush the boys were sporting.
Sebastian’s gaze hardened as he stood up straight, jaw clenching once more as he looked at you. Breaking eye contact, he swiftly strode past Ominis to the exit.
“We’ll continue this later.”
You wanted to call out to him, beg him not to leave again, but he felt too far away. It was like you were standing alone on an island, watching your ship purposefully sail away from you. Your mouth opened to speak as you watched him pass you, but no sound came out, a helpless look in your eyes.
A snarl sounded from behind you, coming from deep in Ominis’s chest. “Sallow! Don’t you dare walk away, you coward. Get your ass back here and give them an ex-”
“I have nothing to say to them.” His words hit you square in the chest, a pained noise forcing itself out of your throat.
Back to you, he hesitated only a moment, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides before exiting the Undercroft without another word.
Your body shook violently, hyperventilating as your breath came in quick succession. You were crying again, staring at the door he’d left through, trying to keep it together. Ominis called to you urgently, rushing to your side as you heaved air painfully into your lungs. He threw his arms around you, trapping your arms against your sides as he squeezed you.
He kept reassuring you, asking you to breathe with him. You shook your head, hysterically repeating that everything was fine, you were fine.
You both sunk to the floor, earth shattering sobs wracked your body as you held onto Ominis’s arm for dear life. You could feel a wet spot from where Ominis pressed his cheek up against your shoulder, allowing himself to cry with you as you got your breathing semi under control. You held each other for a long time, parting only when you felt calm enough to head to your separate beds, resolving to speak at a later date.
You lay in bed that night with dry eyes, unable to shed another tear. Staring blankly at the curtains surrounding you, the night dragged on, sleep avoiding you at every turn.
—-------
It’d been a couple days since the incident in the Undercroft, your mind felt a bit numb, no doubt caused by the raging storm of emotions that’d been plaguing your thoughts. Ominis had been unable to meet you since that night, 7th year classes bogging you both down, leaving little room for anything else. You sat alone in the library, tucked away in a back corner hidden from prying eyes, quietly trying to focus on your pile of assignments.
Realizing you needed a specific book to complete your paper, you stand from your chair and walk to the appropriate section. You squint at the spines, trying to make out the tiny lettering, noticing that the book you were after was filed incorrectly and was sitting on a much higher shelf. Sighing, you reach into your robes for your wand, confused when your pockets come up empty. You look at the floor, wondering if it’d fallen, until you recall placing it on your study table next to your stack of homework.
Heaving another heavy sigh, you stare up at the book, wondering if it was even worth it to walk all the way back for your wand. Standing on your toes, you try to stretch as far as you can, fingers just brushing the lip of the shelf you needed. Grunting in frustration, you put one foot on the lowest shelf and pull yourself a little higher, fingers now grazing the spine, but unable to get a good grasp.
As you were about to put your other foot on the next shelf, opting to just climb the bookcase, an arm appears above you and removes the book from the shelf. Scrambling down, you spin around to object.
“Oh! Um, I was actually trying to-” Your eyes travel upward and find themselves captive to Sebastian’s intense gaze. His hand had paused above you, the corner of the book still resting on the edge of the wood, effectively trapping you between him and the bookshelf. Your mouth felt dry at the close proximity, but you refused to break eye contact.
“Um…I need that.”
You swore you could see the slightest quirk of his lips, as if he wanted to smirk at you, but held it in. “I know. That’s why I grabbed it.”
He slowly lowers his arm, handing you the book gently. You take it hesitantly, accidentally brushing his fingers with yours. He’d been very careful to keep his distance even with the close proximity, so you felt his fingers jerk away when they’d touched yours, as if he’d been shocked. His brow twitched, lips turning down into a frown. You didn’t want to see that look on his face, so you broke eye contact, looking at the floor.
“Thank you.” Careful not to touch him again, you stepped around him and started walking back to your table. You wondered why he’d helped you, seeing as how he clearly didn’t want anything to do with you. Pausing your movement, you turn toward him once more, face still directed at the ground.
“I’m sorry.” You weren’t sure when the next opportunity to speak to him would present itself, if it would present itself, so you wanted to say your piece while you had the chance.
He quirked an eyebrow at you, putting his hands into his pockets before leaning a shoulder against the bookshelf. “For what?”
Apparently he was in a more talkative mood today, seeing as how these were the most words he’d spoken to you since his return. You looked up at him, feeling a little braver, and did your best to not stare at his exposed forearms. He really had grown up quite a bit over the last two years.
“For…being weak. I couldn’t- I couldn’t help Anne, and…and if I were stronger, maybe I could’ve. Then you wouldn’t have had to…go away.” Chancing a glance, you could see a pinched look on his face, his brow scrunched together in a look of distress.
The almost pleasant atmosphere was gone, replaced with a tense weight that threatened to crush you if you pushed too hard. Looking back at the floor, you clutch the book to your chest, trying to use it as a kind of shield against his ire. “I understand why you…hate…me, but I just-”
“I don’t hate you.”
The words were murmured quickly, his voice so low you had to strain to hear him. You glanced up, a look of heartbreak rested itself on his handsome face, the most emotion you’d seen from him thus far.
Letting a sad smile slip onto your face, you held his gaze. “You don’t have to lie.”
Deciding that your heart couldn’t handle more, you turn on your heel and quickly walk back to the rest of your belongings, gathering everything into your bag and checking out the book. You could do your assignments elsewhere, for now you just needed to put some distance between yourself, and the man watching your back longingly.
—-------
After that, you did your best to avoid Sebastian entirely. Making sure to always look busy, or seem engrossed in a conversation if you passed him in the halls. You noticed he and Ominis had started hanging around each other again. Often surrounded by tense silence, but you were glad to see them putting forth the effort to fix their relationship. You didn’t see much of Ominis, the blonde mainly focusing on repairing things with Sebastian, which was fine. You had plenty of other friends to spend your free time with, but you did miss his company.
One person you found yourself gravitating towards was Garreth Weasley. He was social, and could talk to anyone about anything, making him incredibly easy to be around. Which is what you felt like you needed, an easy friendship that didn’t demand that much from you. You’d often walk together between classes, laughing as you teased him about his crush on Poppy, his freckled face growing redder every second.
Sometimes, you could sense a pair of eyes boring into your back, the feeling fading as soon as you’d turn to look.
Days turned into weeks, and before you knew it, a whole month had passed. Mid term exams were fast approaching and you were on your way to the library with Garreth, arguing playfully about the number of lacewing flies needed for a Felix Felicis potion. Garreth was adamant that the more flies you added, the more potent the potion, but you were pretty sure it would cause an explosion.
You weren’t paying attention to where you were going, and bumped directly into Sebastian, for the second time. You bounced off him lightly with a small ‘oof’, noting that he didn’t move an inch, clearly having planted himself in your path. You look up at his face, noticing his gaze trained directly on Garreth, who looked back slightly unnerved.
“I need to talk to you.”
Sebastian didn’t break eye contact with Garreth, so you assumed he was speaking to the redhead, but after a beat he turned his eyes expectantly in your direction. He hadn’t phrased it as a question, his tone leaving little room for you to object, but it would be rude to ditch Garreth when the two of you already had plans, so you tried anyway.
“I can’t really talk right now. Garreth and I are-” Sebastian’s eyes shot to Garreth again, a dark glare daring the other boy to challenge him.
“You know what, that’s totally ok with me. You, uh, go have that conversation, and I’ll get a head start on the assignment.” Garreth hurried off to the library without looking back. Sebastian tracked his movement with narrowed eyes, turning back to you once you were alone.
“You’ve been avoiding me.” Sebastian crossed his arms as he spoke, a grumpy set to his brow. He stood close, forcing you to look up at him as he towered over you. You squeezed your books a bit tighter against your chest, trying to stop its incessant pounding.
“Have I?”
Sebastian huffed, brows furrowing further.
“Don’t play coy with me.”
You bit the inside of your lip, studying his face, trying to pinpoint his angle in this conversation. “Is it really ‘avoiding’ if you don’t want to see me anyway?”
He got that pinched look again, and no matter how hard you looked, you still couldn’t discern its meaning. “I never said I didn’t want to see you.”
Some of that old snippiness you’d get when arguing with him started to resurface, and you shot back at him without thinking. “Your attitude seems to indicate otherwise.”
He narrowed his eyes at you, his scowl deepening. “How would you know anything about my attitude, when you’ve clearly been avoiding me?”
You sigh and pinch the bridge of your nose, suddenly remembering the stress headaches he’d give you when he was being particularly stubborn. “Sebastian. What- What is it you want? First you’re storming out of the Undercroft, refusing to speak to me, and now you’re upset that I’ve been giving you a wide berth? I’m getting whiplash from the constant back and forth. So what is it?”
You don’t hear anything for a moment, the air charged and hanging dense between you two. Just as you’re about to tell him to forget it, he speaks.
“I’m sorry.” You open your eyes to see him staring at his shoes, the same pinched look back on his face. “Ominis and I had a pretty bad argument before you came down that night. I…was feeling emotional, and took it out on you. I shouldn’t have done that. I’m sorry.”
You weren’t sure if it was due to shame or not, but Sebastian was struggling to look you in the eyes, like he was afraid of what he might see there. You let out a small sigh, arms coming to cross over your heart protectively.
“I can understand that. You probably didn’t want to see me anyway so-”
“Stop saying that.” His voice is fierce, beckoning your eyes to look up at him. He traps you in his stare as soon as your eyes meet, a pleading look behind his irises. “I did want to see you. I do want to see you.”
You look at him helplessly, trying desperately to decipher what his eyes were trying to tell you. Your voice comes out in a pained whisper, unable to mask the deep hurt his absence created. “Then why didn’t you?”
His face crumples and he has to break eye contact, looking back at the floor. He bites his lips and blinks a few times before taking a deep breath, voice matching yours in volume. “I-I can’t tell you…right now. Not because- because I don’t want to. I just, need a little bit more time.”
Looking at Sebastian in this moment, it seemed like the weight of the world rested on his broad shoulders. You could see that whatever happened in his absence had aged him well beyond his years. As much as you wanted to demand answers from him, you could clearly see how close he was to the edge, and didn’t want to be the thing that pushed him off.
“Ok.”
His shoulders slumped immediately, all the tension leaving them. He didn’t remove his eyes from the floor, but released a sigh while nodding his head. “Thank you.”
The two of you stood there in silence for a moment longer, unsure where to go from here. Sebastian glanced up at you through his lashes, scuffing his foot on the floor. “I guess you should, uh, get to Garreth.”
Truthfully, you’d completely forgotten about Garreth, suddenly feeling guilty for keeping him waiting for so long. “Yeah, I guess I should. Um, see you…later?”
The question came out shaky and unsure, but Sebastian nodded his head instantly, letting out a quiet ‘yeah’ before bidding you goodbye. You walked past him towards the library, and could hear him turn to watch you disappear down the stairs.
————-
You started slow. Giving each other small smiles and waves in the corridor, or across The Great Hall during meal times. From there, you escalated to walking each other to class, keeping conversations light. Safe.
It was clear that you’d both changed while apart, and you wanted to take your time getting to know this new person, dressed in such familiar skin.
Your heart would leap in your chest every time you got a chuckle out of him, feeling like you’d put another crack in his shell with each one. You tried not to let the giddiness show on your face, often looking down, lips trembling with effort as you fought a wide smile.
Ominis would often accompany you to your shared classes, giving you a small sense of normalcy after being without for so long. It wasn’t what it used to be, not by a long shot, but you hoped the three of you could get back to something similar.
Sebastian picked up Quidditch again. Well, it was more like Imelda grabbed the back of his collar and physically dragged him all the way to the pitch for practice, telling him that he’d do well to put his new muscle to good use. He’d tried to protest, giving up quickly, as he had enough sense to know he shouldn’t piss her off too much. You hadn’t been aware that Sebastian was even on the Quidditch team, but Ominis informed you that he’d been one of the top Chasers in Hogwarts before the season was canceled in your fifth year.
You were walking to Potions with Garreth, being interrogated about what he should get Poppy as a courting gift, when you felt a dark aura heading down the hall toward you. Turning your head from Garreth, you see Sebastian stalking towards you, a slight scowl on his face as his eyes dart between the two of you. Sebastian wasn’t overly fond of Garreth. Why? You couldn’t say, but Sebastian was always extra cranky when the red head was around, refusing to explain himself. You’d tried asking Ominis once, but all he did was sigh and say ‘Because he’s an idiot.’
Whatever the reason, the scowl on his face remained firmly in place as the three of you converged, stopping briefly.
Garreth hadn’t the faintest idea as to why Sebastian disliked him, but still made an effort to be welcoming and friendly whenever together. “Sebastian!”
“Weasley.” Garreth didn’t let the brunette’s curt greeting phase him, even as Sebastian crossed his arms, scowl deepening.
“Excited to see you back on the pitch tomorrow! Hope you kept up your flying during your time abroad.”
Anytime someone would inquire about Sebastian’s long period of absence, he’d simply state that he’d been a part of an exchange program, studying at one of the other magic academies. It was enough to placate most people, many too intimidated by his stoic mask to pry further.
Sebastian’s eyebrow twitched, taking Garreth’s friendly competition as a slight against his abilities with a broom. “I’m not the one you should be worrying about.”
You pinched the bridge of your nose, pondering a way to break this weird tension. There had been several attempts to correct Sebastian on Garreth’s intentions, but every time he’d narrow his eyes at you, muttering ‘That’s just what he wants you to think’ under his breath before staring daggers over at the Gryffindor table.
Just as you were about to excuse yourself and continue walking to class, hoping Garreth would follow, a smug voice called your name, the figure strolling up to your group with unwarranted swagger. Turning, you pray it’s Ominis, even though you know it’s definitely not.
Leander Prewett came to a stop beside you, much too close for comfort, an over confident smirk plastered on his mouth. “Hello, dearest. How are you on this fine day?”
Sebastian ground his teeth together, a deep irritation rolling off him in waves. “Fucking perfect.”
You’d been forced to inform Sebastain of Leander’s unfortunate fixation on you, when he’d sent you a poorly written love letter, via howler. Crouching in the hall, you covered your mortified face with your hands as Leander’s howler screamed his misguided feelings for all to hear.
His obsession started all the way back in the beginning of sixth year, when you’d made the mistake of complimenting his physique. He’d been upset that a girl he fancied turned him down, convincing himself he was too ugly to love.
In a well meaning attempt to cheer him up, you’d disagreed and said he was very handsome, promising someone would be very lucky to have him one day. To your dismay, he took that as a confession, immediately swearing his love and loyalty to you for the rest of his days. You’d tried ever so gently to correct him, but he’d refused to hear it, choosing to believe that you were just shy, embarrassed by your feelings for him.
Now, in the midst of your seventh year, it seemed he was still in hot pursuit, all of your rejections falling on deaf ears.
Sebastian heard all this and went on the offense, looking Leander dead in the eye as he shredded the letters with his fingers and set every bouquet on fire. This did little to deter Leander, vowing to rescue his love from the clutches of the beast guarding them.
“Get lost, Prewett. They’re not interested.”
Leander scoffed, turning his nose up at Sebastian, ignoring him completely. “Anyway, my sweet, would you care to join m-”
“No thank you, Leander. As I’ve said before, I’m not on the market.” Your words are monotone, practiced, saying the same line you had a hundred times before.
Sebastian visibly stiffened, eyes boring into you as his face dropped a bit. Furrowing your brow, you tilt your head at him in silent question, confused by his reaction. Leander laughed loudly, as if your comment was meant as a jest.
“My pet, of course you’re not on the market! Obviously you’re with m-”
“No. I’m not, as I’ve said several times before.”
Deciding you’d had just about enough, you grab Garreth by the wrist, walking quickly towards the potions classroom. “We’re going to be late for class. Sebastian, I’ll see you later?”
All you got in return was a distracted nod, Sebastian’s mind clearly elsewhere. You wanted to ask what was wrong, but you really were going to be late for class if you didn’t hurry. Throwing him one more concerned look over your shoulder, you and Garreth hurry to Professor Sharp’s class.
—-------
You didn’t end up seeing Sebastian for the rest of the day, or the morning after. The next time you spotted him was on the pitch, during warm ups for the quidditch game between Slytherin and Gryffindor. Garreth gave you an enthusiastic wave, which you returned, while also gesturing with your head to Poppy sitting beside you. He blushed slightly, also waving at her shyly, a nervous smile painting his lips. Poppy reciprocated in much the same manner, looking down at her hands in embarrassment.
You searched the field and locked eyes with Sebastian, who’d just witnessed your interaction with Garreth, giving him an encouraging smile as you mouthed the words ‘You’ll do great’. His face was impassive as he nodded his head slightly, turning back to focus on his teammates.
Hoping to get the chance to speak with him later, you turned your attention to the field as the players got in position. You could see the tension in everyone’s bodies, the air charged as they waited for the signal, and as the horn blew, they were off.
Your eyes were glued to the field, watching in awe as the players maneuvered their brooms with skill and ease. During your fifth year, you’d bested Imelda in the training courses she loved, which was mostly thanks to the upgrades Albie had installed.
Watching her now though, you were convinced it had been a fluke. She turned her broom in a tight corkscrew zipping straight towards the ground, pulling up at the last second in pursuit of the Golden Snitch.
Scanning the field, you spot Sebastian tossing the quaffle through yet another hoop, diving after it quickly as soon as it’d gone through. He deftly dodged the bludgers hurtling towards him, focus unbroken as he scored again. It seemed to you that a good portion of the Gryffindor team was focused solely on slowing him down, failing at every turn. You were unable to take your eyes off him, the way his uniform hugged his body at the forefront of your mind.
Looking down quickly, you mentally chastise yourself. You’d just barely become friends again, sort of, and you weren’t about to jeopardize that in any way. He still hadn’t revealed to you why he’d left, a part of you still convinced it was because of you. Furrowing your brows, you shook your head a bit, trying to dispel the depressing thoughts that had begun to form. Instead, you focus back on the game, eyes still periodically straying to Sebastian’s form.
Leaning on the edge of your seat, you watch with bated breath as both teams continued to score on the other, the tension reaching its peak when both were tied at 140. It was anyone’s game, each side needing to score one last goal to claim their victory. Imelda remained focused on the snitch, having little regard for the other players as she ducked and wove through them.
You heard shouts of excitement from the stands, straining your eyes to see what the commotion was about.
Finally, you see Sebastian swiftly swipe a quaffle out of Garreth’s hands, speeding towards the Gryffindor goals, laser focused. Almost every Gryffindor player abandoned their formations, instead attempting to converge on Sebastian before he scored. Unfortunately, they were too late. Not that it would have mattered anyway, for at the same time Sebastian scored the final goal, Imelda shot to the sky triumphant, Golden Snitch clutched in her hand.
You’d never seen anything like it. No wonder Imelda had been so forceful about Sebastian joining the team, together they made quite a formidable pair. Everyone in the stands lost their minds at Slytherin’s double victory, and you shouted with the rest of your friends, heart swelling with pride over Sebastian’s achievement.
Everyone rushed down to the field to congratulate the players, even commending the Gryffindor team for their exceptional skill and near win. You pushed through the throngs of people, looking in every direction for the brunette.
Feeling a tap on your shoulder, you whirl around, only to be faced with Leander’s smug grin, his uniform damp from playing.
“Come to cheer me up, my sweet? Your kindness knows no bounds.” He moves forward to embrace you, and you swiftly put up your arm, keeping him at a distance.
“Leander, seriously I’m not-”
Leander continues to advance on you, forcing you to take a step back for every one he takes forward. There isn’t anywhere to run in such a thick crowd, but your eyes dart around for any possible escape routes. “Oh come now, stop being so coy, we’re finally alone aren’t we? Where’s your scary guard dog, hm? I don’t see him.”
“He’s right here.”
A cold, angry voice growled lowly in your ear, sending a chill up your spine. Sebastian stares hard at Leander’s hands stretched out towards you, clearly attempting to stop your obvious retreat.
You, however, completely forget Leander’s existence as you crane your neck up to look at Sebastian. There are beads of sweat decorating his brow from all the energy he’d exerted, his slight flush emboldening the scars he’d yet to explain to you. You stare at his rugged beauty for a moment longer, lost in counting the freckles littering his cheeks, before remembering the major victory he’d just accomplished.
Without thinking, your body twists itself around, and you practically throw yourself at him so hard he has to catch you. He makes a grunt of surprise and stumbles back a step before steadying you both.
Your arms wind themselves around his shoulders, squeezing him as tightly as they can, a mad grin on your face as you speak into his ear. “I’m so fucking proud of you. That was amazing. I’m so glad I got to watch you play.”
He doesn’t return the hug, body tense as he stands there in shock. Noticing his lack of reciprocation, you suddenly remember how hard he’d been working to avoid any physical contact with you. It hurt at first, his aversion to your touch, but you’d respected it as a silent boundary he’d put up as a condition of his friendship.
Suddenly you feel awful, having crossed that boundary thoughtlessly in your excitement. You thought were truly no better than Leander, and immediately went to retract your arms, an apology already on your lips.
Sebastian feels you loosen your grip on him, and his brain finally catches up. He wraps his arms around your torso, crushing you to him, almost squeezing all the air from your lungs. His face finds the crook of your neck, burying itself as deep as it can go.
“Please don’t stop.” His words are quiet, desperate, lips brushing your skin as they move. You freeze at his plea, confused, but remain where you are.
“I’m sorry, I- I was just so excited. I didn’t mean to push you into-”
“No. You didn’t. I…it’s- it’s ok.” His arms tighten impossibly around you, asking you to squeeze him just as hard.
“But…you’re always so careful not to-”
“I didn’t want to become greedy.”
You almost miss his quiet confession, his murmuring and the noise from the crowd making it difficult to hear his words. You think that maybe you weren’t supposed to hear them as Sebastian nuzzles further into your neck. “I’m sorry. This is…the first hug I’ve gotten in…a long time. Could you just- could you just stay…here, with me?”
Nodding your head as best you can, you card your fingers through his hair, holding his head to you, uncaring of the sweat dampening it. His breath shudders out of him, body melting further into you.
You stay locked like that until people start filtering off the field, and he’s called away for a debrief with his team. He releases you reluctantly, hands lingering as long as they’re able, bidding you a goodnight before trudging after the rest of the players.
—-------
It seemed like the floodgates opened after that night, Sebastian finding any and all reasons to be touching you in some way or another. Whether it was linking your arms as you walked together, or capturing your ankle with both of his while you ate across from each other. It was overwhelming at first, going from no contact to pressing his leg flush with yours in class, but it certainly wasn’t a change you were complaining about.
Sebastian became more at ease. His smiles coming easier, his laughs getting louder, talking more than he had the whole year. He really started spending time with you and Ominis, rarely being seen without one of you, if not both.
You were thrilled, you really were, feeling like you were finally seeing the real Sebastian, but there was a constant nagging in the back of your mind. He still hasn't explained his disappearance, and you wondered if, maybe now, he was comfortable enough with you to talk about it.
Sebastian asked you to come with him to the Undercroft after class, not wanting to fight through the crowds in the library that appeared right before exams. Packing your things, you automatically take his arm, touching him becoming second nature. He guides you down the hall, a small pleased smile gracing his lips. Opening the clock face, he ushers you inside with a gentle hand on your lower back.
Once in the room, you lean your backs against the wall, shoulders pressed together as you complete your assignments in comfortable silence.
He interrupted the silence with a question about Diricawl breeding, needing the answer for his Beasts class paper, which led to you sharing a wild story about the vanishing bird.
You told him how someone has snuck an irate Diricawl into the Slytherin Common Room, unleashing it on poor Ominis, who was unable to avoid its beak as it teleported around the room after him. You had tears in your eyes as you recounted the disheveled, panting state he’d been in when he’d run into you, begging you to catch the damn thing and stop his torment.
Sebastian laughed with you, clutching at a stitch in his side. “When- Merlin’s beard, When did this happen?”
You wiped your eyes, laughter trailing off slowly, a soft melancholy coming over your features. Avoiding eye contact, you keep your gaze on the piles of homework in front of you. “When, um…when you were gone. In our sixth year.”
The atmosphere became stifling as an awkward silence befell the room. Clearing your throat, you picked up your quill again, continuing to work on your assignment.
A moment passes, the scratching of your quill the only sound in the room. You see movement from the corner of your eye. A hand stretching across you, fingers gently brushing yours as they take the quill from your hand, setting it down. You don’t look at Sebastian until he calls your name softly, slowly turning your eyes towards him.
His face is pained, gaze searching your face as he starts to speak. “Please don’t- I…I thought I was going to hurt you.”
Eyes widening, you turn further towards him. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his lap as he fiddles with his fingers, murmuring quietly. “I couldn’t stand the thought of hurting you. Either of you. You were…are so important to me, and I thought that if I…stayed, you’d-”
Sebastian’s breathing shuddered, hands trembling slightly as his words became watery. “-you’d end up like my uncle. And- And then Anne left, and I was so scared something would happen to her, I tried to…find her, but I couldn’t, and-”
Blinking, you feel wet drops hit your hands, but you refuse to look away from Sebastian as he tries to speak. “I was too afraid to face you, or Ominis. Knowing I’d failed everyone I loved was- was too much, so I…I ran.”
“...Where did you go?” He looked at you then, finally seeing the tear tracks down your face. Bringing a hand up, he wiped your cheeks with his thumb, fingertips lingering before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
“I…I went far. As far as I could. I…became a mercenary of sorts, getting paid to clear out poacher camps, or deliver high value items across hamlets. I thought that…maybe if I did as much good as possible…I could be forgiven. That you’d forgive me.” His hand continued to pet your hair as he leaned his head against the wall, suddenly too heavy for his neck to support. He gazes at you sadly, memorizing your face in case you never speak to him again.
You gaze back just as intently, once again mapping the changes in his face, quietly mulling over his words. “Why- Why did you come back?”
His hand stilled, resting on your cheek. Unconsciously, you tilt your head further into his palm, craving more contact.
“I missed you.” He says it so sincerely, like it’s the only true thing he’d ever said in his life. “So much.”
You feel like the wind is knocked out of you, but still manage a whisper. “Then…When I saw you…why-”
“I was afraid. I didn’t know what to say. You looked like I’d carved your heart out of your chest and ripped it to shreds. I thought that I’d made a mistake…coming back, so I decided you’d be better off without me.”
Shaking your head, you grabbed onto his arm, holding his wrist securely, suddenly afraid he’d disappear again. He blinked, a few tears falling from his lashes as he bit his lip. “...but I couldn’t stay away. I tried to, but every time you looked at me…I couldn’t get enough, and I hated myself for it. I still do.”
You hiccupped, and his thumb collected your tears once more, knuckles lightly brushing your cheek bone when he was done.
“If I was a stronger man, I’d let you go, but…I’m not.”
You sobbed openly. Sebastian pulled you into his lap, rocking you back and forth as you cried into his chest. You told him how much you missed him, how worried you were, how you’d go out looking for him every chance you got. You begged him not to leave again, wailing all your hurt into his sweater.
His arms tightened with every word you spoke, face buried in your neck, tears soaking your collar. He apologized over and over, the two of you holding each other for dear life until you’d stopped crying, and then for a long while afterward. Only parting when the Bell Tower signaled the start of curfew.
—-------
Time passed slowly after that, weeks going by as the season gradually changed. There was something unnamed between you and Sebastian, several of your friends commenting on how sweet he was towards you. If Ominis happened to be around, he’d look at them quizzically and ask what they were talking about, stating that Sebastian had always treated you that way. You weren’t sure if you completely believed it, but Ominis was adamant that this was Sebastain’s normal behavior around you.
Walking the halls, you attempted to give Garreth the pep talk of the century, trying to boost his confidence for his rendezvous with Poppy. “You got this Garr, no sweat, just tell her how you feel.”
He took a deep breath and looked at you nervously. “You sure it’ll be ok?”
“Yes! I’m positive. I couldn’t be more positive. Just trust me on this.”
He took another deep breath, bouncing in place a few times, trying to shake out his jitters. “Ok. I’m ready. I just- before I go…”
Garreth takes both of your hands in his, squeezing a little, his smile nervous but warm. “I just…want to thank you, you know, for being my friend. You’ve always been there for me, probably more so than I’ve been there for you, and I just want you to know how much I appreciate y-”
Your hands are suddenly ripped from Garreths and your world turns upside down. You’re thrown onto a broad shoulder, an arm securing you in place as they walk away with you. You look up at Garreths shocked expression, mouth hanging open, hands still outstretched from where he’d held yours. Turning as much as you can, you look at the back of the perpetrator’s head.
“Sebastian!” Looking back at Garreth, you see him take a few steps to follow.
“It’s ok Garreth! Go on ahead! Good Luck!” You had to shout at him to be heard, Sebastian putting as much distance as possible between you and the redhead.
“Sebastian! Wha- Put me down! This is so embarrassing!” He ignores your cries and continues walking, other students stopping their activities to watch you flail on his shoulder. You recognize the path he’s taking, crossing your arms and giving up your struggle until you get to your destination.
Sebastian only puts you down once you’ve crossed the threshold into the Undercroft. Your arms stay crossed as you glare up at him, Sebastian mirroring your pose, refusing to break eye contact. You squint at each other in silence for a beat before you speak.
“What the hell was that.”
Sebastian doesn’t speak for a moment, jaw clenching as he regards you.
“Go on a date with me.”
He’s so grumpy when he asks, or rather demands, that you’re not entirely sure you heard him correctly.
“...What.”
Sebastian sighs, annoyed that he has to repeat himself.
“You’d probably prefer someone like Garreth, but I’m throwing my hat in the ring. Go on a date with me.”
Your brain short circuits for a moment, but then is irritated with the tone he’s chosen, and any shyness you might have felt flies out the door.
“And this is how you’re asking?”
His brow furrows deeper, offended. “How else am I supposed to ask?”
You scoff and turn your nose up at him, turning your head to glare off into the Undercroft. “Whatever. It’s not like there’s even a ring to throw your hat in. It’s you, idiot.”
Sebastian makes a confused noise, and you turn to look at him again. His arms had partially come uncrossed, a surprised look on his stupidly handsome face. “But…you told Leander you’re off the market.”
You roll your eyes. Unbelievable. “Yeah, for him and everyone else. You made sure of that a long time ago, whether you knew it or not.”
He stands there staring. ”So…you and Garreth…?”
“Oh my- Are just friends. He’s actually confessing to Poppy as we speak, which you so rudely interrupted when you decided to act like a barbarian.”
Sebastian strode up to you, ignoring your irate words, stopping half a step away. Towering over you, his eyes were wide with wonder, hope glimmering behind them. “So…I can have you? Am I- Am I allowed to?”
“For the love of-” You grab his tie and crash his lips into yours. You linger for only a moment before pulling back just enough to glare at him, still annoyed. “Get it together Sallow, you’re embarrassing me.”
You hear a sound coming from his chest, starting as a low hum, slowly building itself up to giddy giggles, before exploding into loud laughter.
“I fucking love you.” He grabbed your cheeks between his palms and yanked you into another kiss, struggling to wipe the grin off his face enough to do it properly.
He gathered you as close to his body as he could, frantically kissing everywhere he could reach. All you could really do was hang onto him as he lovingly attacked you. Eventually he returned to your lips, his kisses turning more passionate the longer you stayed together.
“You’re telling me *kiss* I could have *kiss* been kissing you-” He groaned as he kissed you again, pressing further and lingering longer. “-this whole time?”
He couldn’t stop long enough to let you answer his question properly, so you did the best you could. “Yeah, you’re mmff-*kiss* -fucking late.”
He chuckled, pulling away just enough to speak clearly.
“Guess I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
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happy birthday to one of the greatest fics of all time <3 ( @bisexuallsokka , thank you for writing this masterpiece.)
#atla#zukka#zuko x sokka#zukka fanart#atla fanart#tangled au#now that i see you#now that i see you fanart#fic fanart#so. this fic…#I know I’ve talked about it like. two or three times in the past#but I’m so serious about it#genuinely it is one of the greatest fics I’ve ever read not even exclusive to this fandom#it’s so well written and thought out and carefully crafted#(much like the rest of Jo’s work but I don’t want these tags to be overly long)#so if you are a tangled fan and anyone with a brain#please give this fic a read#literally? it will change your life#anyway happy birthday to this masterclass beautiful extraordinary masterpiece
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Spent all day reading this fic and it has consumed me, so I needed to do something to let my feeling out
#I want to color them#and finish them#but soon it will be 1 am and if I start I won’t go to sleep until I finish#so maybe hopefully I will continue these tomorrow#who knows#but#damn#what a journey reading that fic was#a masterpiece#emmeart#Gale#gale dekarios#gale of waterdeep#gale x tav#bg3#baldur's gate 3#tara the tressym#Gale and Tara
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THIS IS HOW I FIND OUT KAITO AND SHINICHI ARE COUSINS??
#gosho you're evil 😭#if I had a dollar for every time a ship of a fandom i was in got revealed as cousins I'd have two dollars#which isn’t much but it's crazy that it happened twice#also not 20 but 30 years after the release btw. THIRTY. you cannot make this shit up#this ship is older than ME#and the most popular ship of dcmk too#I can only pray for the shippers I'm so sorry#that being said say fuck you to gosho by keep shipping them!#I've read and seen some absolute masterpieces of fics and arts. go wild. create more.#kaishin
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OH FUCK?! WHAT?!?! 👀👀👀 because of us?!
twenty four hours (modern!eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR FOURTEEN
in which eddie finally offers you an honesty hour. which is great, until you learn you've bit off more than you're capable of chewing. (oh, and we find out more of what happened at steve's infamous party)
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, eventual smut, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 5k+
→ a/n: there is still one more bit of the memory left for steve's party!! i broke it into three bits because otherwise it would be too long as one giant clump lol. sorry this is being posted so late... but hey! it's here! see y'all again thursday lol thank you to everyone for continuing to be so kind about this story and show it so much love
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
14:00 ─────────ㅇ──────── 24:00
SIX MONTHS EARLIER
It’s Eddie. You only know because when Nancy opens the door, she greets him loudly, letting her drunken squeal echo down the hallway and into the kitchen.
“Munson! Finally!” her voice carries, and you fight the urge to try and move to peek through the doorway to see him, “Took you long enough!”
Eddie's voice is too quiet for you to hear his reply. He’s not drunk, not fueled by reckless decisions and overflowing affections like most of the other friends were already.
There’s a terrible twisting in your gut at his arrival, and you know it shows across your face when Robin looks at you apologetically. As if for a moment, they had forgotten they way you and Eddie avoided each other. As if for a moment, they had all pretended that the entire group could convene and it could be easy, and that was on them instead of you or Eddie. But it wasn’t on them. That blame could never fall on them.
It was on Eddie, you decided. He was the one who more ardently avoided you rather than vice versa. He was the one with a sharper tongue between the two of you, always snappy, always irritated with you. It was on Eddie. It should be on Eddie.
Except, you still felt bad about the Chrissy ordeal. He may have acted as if he disliked you for no reason before, but now he was hating you with reason. You can’t blame him; you’d do the same thing. If he ruined a date like that, stomped all over possible potential and threw it away without even considering your feelings involved, you’d be out for blood.
You sort of needed to apologize, and needed to apologize soon.
“Eddie, my man!” Argyle calls out from the couch. It captures your attention just in time to look over and watch as Eddie enters the room, his back facing you, his shoulders slack beneath his leather jacket.
He’s relaxed. You’re immediately sure that he doesn’t know you’re here yet.
“Hey, man,” he greets with a gravelly voice, an edge of fatigue to it you’re familiar with. It’s the kind of tiredness that follows long weeks, as you two had spoken about that first night. For a second, you wonder if he’s still having those. And if he is, how often they happen, if he ever comes home from them and thinks about that night, if he has anyone to call when it’s late and they haunt him.
You know you don’t. Neither Steve nor Robin are ever awake that late, or at least don’t answer the phone at that time of day, and you don’t feel close enough with the rest of the group to burden them like that.
There had been a time where you would wonder if Eddie could have become that person, if the type of conversation you two had at the bar the first night could ever translate over phone lines. But that time had been early on, and was long dead. It laid in an unmarked grave with all your other ponderings of what a friendship with Eddie might look like.
“We can keep you two apart,” Robin whispers, or at least tries to whisper. She’s loud, “He said he had work and wouldn’t make it. We… We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.”
Oh.
Oh, what a knock to your pride. Robin means nothing harmful of the words, they should be neutral and just an explanation offered to you. But your mind takes them in its grasp and runs, runs, runs.
“We thought he wasn’t going to come, so we invited you instead.”
You’re the backup plan. You see it now, and it sucks, but you press your lips into a cellophane smile that Robin can’t see through in her flurry to distract you with an offering of you two plus Steve having another round of drinks. You decide to take a straight shot of the nearest bottle of vodka, swallowing it down to drown your already sinking heart. You fake laugh when Steve tells bad jokes, you make up lies about your dates of the last few weeks, deciding you no longer care if you add in more details to look less pathetic.
You’re the backup plan. So you’re sure they won’t notice when you spin a new version of yourself.
This version of you that spews from your lips has gotten lucky more times in the last month than you have in the last year. This version of you is always the one having the last say in conversations, the one leaving men on read rather than the tables being flipped as they were in reality.
Robin says nothing, even when she notices some of the things you say not aligning with what you’d told her earlier that week. She only side-eyes you as Steve drinks in every detail, only disrupting to suggest another shot.
At some point, she gets too drunk to side-eye you.
“Fuck,” Steve sighs, throwing his head back as he glances out to his living room, where Nancy, Jonathan, Argyle, and Eddie have taken to sitting in an oblong circle around on his and Robin’s furniture, “I need some fresh air. Anyone else?”
“Me,” Robin responds so quickly, you would have made fun of her if you didn’t notice the sickly shade of green creeping up on her.
Steve looks at you, raising an eyebrow, but you only shake your head. It makes the room threaten to spin. Maybe, just maybe, you should have slowed your roll with the vodka shots. Maybe.
“I’ll stay in here, hold down the fort,” you promise, letting your eyes fall shut before you inhale deeply through your nose, exhaling softly through parted lips.
No way. You hadn’t drunk nearly enough tonight to excuse getting sick as Robin was seemingly about to.
Robin and Steve leave you be as you compose yourself. You think you hear them extend the offer to everyone in the living room, but you can’t make out who agrees to go and who stays. But as you listen to all the footsteps making their way out the front door, Steve calling out that they’d be back soon, you start to become convinced you’ll open your eyes to an empty apartment.
You open them to an empty kitchen. So far, so good.
But then a voice clears their throat from the living room, just as you pull your phone out of your pocket. You open it to find the cursed dating app still open, your messages with the bartender still staring you back in your face. The bartender you thought you’d hit it off with. The bartender that had stood you up the night before.
Fuck him, you think bitterly as you turn to find Eddie entering the kitchen. Because of course, given your luck, Eddie was the only one who stayed back.
“Those apps fucking suck,” Eddie notes, using the neck of his beer bottle to gesture in the general direction of your phone.
You look between him and the lit up screen for a moment, finding half the mind to click out of the private messages, “You’ve used them in the past?”
“Nope.”
You wait for a second, giving him the chance to elaborate. But he doesn’t. Of course he doesn’t, he’s Eddie. If he explained himself to you, that would just be too easy.
“Okay,” you sigh, squinting at the page and past the vodka, trying to fumble your way back onto the screen that would show you eligible bachelors in your area, letting you swipe and judge them by solely looks as if they weren’t actual people on the other side of the phone. As if they weren’t more than a reservoir of attention at your fingertips.
Maybe that had been your mistake with the bartender – you let him become a real person to you.
“Why are you even still on them? I heard you’ve been having a shit time with the guys on there – quite the opposite of what you’ve been telling Harrington tonight, might I point out.”
It’s something in the way he says it. One moment, you’re looking down, ignoring him. The next, you can’t help but lift your head in shock. The words all felt sharpened and poised for a kill, ready for an attack you hadn’t expected so early on in the night.
“I-” you don’t know how to defend yourself. You don’t know whether to stick by the lies you’ve told tonight, or to be concerned with who was telling Eddie about your love life, “You win some, you lose some. It’s the nature of the app.”
Eddie grins and leans on a counter across from you, “You haven’t made it sound like you’re losing at all tonight. I nearly started a drinking game with Nance where we took a swig every time you said you managed to pull another ‘fuck ‘em and leave ‘em’. Quite the body count you’ve got there, player.”
You’re drunk. You tell yourself that’s why you take his words straight to heart – you’re drunk, and therefore, you’re sensitive.
“You’re bluffing,” you snap, “You couldn’t hear me from all the way over there.”
“We could.”
“No, you couldn’t.”
“Yes, we could.”
“You’re lying,” you spit finally, crossing your arms defensively. Your emotions were rising too high, too quickly, and you blame the vodka. You blame the vodka and you blame the drink Steve had made you. You blame the bartender who stood you up. And most importantly, you blame Eddie.
“I’m lying? You’re the one who’s been telling Stevie nothing but lies tonight,” Eddie narrows his eyes at you, as if he expects you to shrink in cowardice when he stands up straight and takes several steps across the kitchen to be closer to you, “Why do you need to even lie about all that, anyways? It’s not like the truth would be any more pathetic than the act you’re putting up. Everyone strikes ou-”
“I’m pathetic?” you scoff and interrupt him, not even paying any attention to where he was going. The tips of your ears are starting to flame with a red tinge, “Just last week, you lied to the group. You were trying to avoid being where I’d be and told them you had to walk your neighbor’s dog.”
“I did!”
“Your apartment has a strict no pet policy, Eddie.”
He freezes up entirely, grin faltering before your eyes, “How do you know that?”
“I didn’t, but Nancy did,” you roll your eyes at the cracks in his composure, “It’s all I had to hear about the entire night. How she wishes we could get along, how she hates when you lie to her. Thanks for that, by the way.”
“It’s not my fuckin’ fault you go out with my friends,” Eddie grumbles, reserving himself back to his side of the kitchen. If someone came in and squinted closely, they’d find that imaginary boundary between the two of you, an invisible line that would not be crossed. Not here, not tonight. You wouldn’t touch Eddie Munson with a twelve-foot pole if you could help it.
“And it’s not my fault that you don’t.”
You can see his agitation spreading like wildfire across his face, in the tick of his jaw and the twitch of his eyes. You can practically see the words that linger on his tongue as he bites down on it – it is your fault.
“Whatever. Why are you lying to Steve?” his voice goes monotonous as he crosses his arms, and the muscles strain against his shirt. His leather jacket has long been discarded, probably thrown over the back of the couch or a chair in the living room.
You mirror him, crossing your arms, letting the screen of your phone press into your side, “I’m not lying.”
“You are. With Steve, and with me at this very moment,” his eyebrows furrow and you consider the consequences of chucking your phone at him.
Your irritation, your own agitation, is all bubbling beneath your skin. If it wasn’t for the vodka mingling with it, you would have been squirming from the discomfort. Usually, he doesn’t get to you. Normally, his off-handed comments come with a sting that can quickly fade.
None of the jabs are fading tonight. They only seem to linger. Because he’s right, and you hate that he’s right.
“How the fuck do you even know how my dating life is going?” you uncross your arms, waving your hands wildly into the empty air between you and Eddie, “We aren’t exactly friends. Did Robin tell you? Did Steve tell you?”
Eddie swallows hard, and you can watch the words wash over him, but you’re unsure of which of your drunken slurs specifically got to him. You weren’t wrong in any of your statements, you weren’t outlandish in either of your guesses. But your words have frozen him up all the same and you aren’t sure why.
“You’re right,” when he physically melts, the deathly chill remains in his voice, “We aren’t friends. But Rob and Nance are, and Nance and me are. See where I’m going with that one?”
It’s in the way he says it, confirms it.
We aren’t friends.
He hisses it out as if it were a painful reminder, as if saying those words burn him eternally. He says them as if they are capable of sending ice through his veins and bones alike.
You know why he froze now, and it’s too late.
“Well-” you pause, unsure of how exactly to respond. You’ll be having a talk with Robin, surely. But technically, Nancy was your friend, right? Surely, she was allowed to know the drama of your love life, wasn’t she? “You say that as if Nancy and I aren't friends.”
“Are you?” he tilts his head tauntingly, as if he knows something you don’t.
“We… are.”
He catches the hesitation; he runs with it. He finds the handle of the knife you’d tried to keep so hidden, and he twists as hard as he can.
“Would Nancy agree if we asked her?” he hums, as if he were seriously contemplating this, as if it were a mediocre debate rather than a question of if you had friends or not, “Do you even have her on Instagram?”
“You, her supposed best friend, don’t have her on Instagram.”
“Because I don’t have Instagram, full stop.”
“Instagram isn’t the normal gauge of friendship,” you defend yourself, “Some people can have thousands of followers and no friends.”
You don’t have Nancy on Instagram. You don’t follow her, she doesn’t follow you. The most she’s acknowledged your presence on the app was tagging you in a photo on a night out once.
“It’s not about follower count,” Eddie shrugs, “It’s about mutual followings. That’s how Hollywood dictates whether celebrity couples are still together these days, yeah? If they follow each other. If you’re friends, you’d follow each other.”
The vodka makes you bold. Bold enough to mutter out, “Oh, fuck you,” in response to Eddie’s prodding.
“Wait, I-” you watch an unfamiliar emotion pass over Eddie’s face, something kin to regret. But his words are already out in the air, he’s already twisted the knife in your gut fully. He’s already spilled your blood in the middle of Steve’s kitchen, with no one around to witness it. He did it for himself – he did it for his own pleasure, his own enjoyment.
He enjoys hurting you.
“Save it,” you mutter, slowly deflating as you turn your back to him, facing the counter to grab your drink to nurse your wounds.
If you looked close enough in the corner of the room, you would have seen the shovel you should have used to bury away your hope of a friendship with Eddie. You should have piled the dirt over the casket, should have put 6 feet of soil and earth and worms between you and that fruitless yearning.
But you didn’t. He hadn’t taken it quite far enough yet.
Yet.
But then he had to cross that invisible barrier. He just had to walk across the kitchen, come up behind you, and not mind his own business. He just had to look over your shoulder just as you opened the bartender’s profile again, if for nothing else than to further hurt yourself for the night.
You were so caught up in your own disappointment, you never saw the flash of recognition that crossed Eddie’s face. Only the anger that followed.
—
HOUR FOURTEEN - 5:00 AM
You don’t bother with putting pants back on, only Eddie’s sweatshirt. At this point, pants were just beginning to feel like a nuisance when it came to the two of you. A nicetie, as one might put it.
What were the points of niceties with him if he could never hate you?
You have the entire five minutes he spends in the bathroom to try and compose yourself. To try and desperately ruminate through these feelings and detach them from everything that was transpiring. The emotions didn’t belong here, there weren’t twists of guilt and sorrow of loss involved for Eddie when he was fucking you.
So why is that all you could feel right now?
He could never hate you, but he had spent the last year doing exactly that, hadn’t he?
“Hey,” he reappears in the entryway of the kitchen with the worst possible timing, right in the eye of the storm that had begun to cloud over your mind. He holds up a pack of cigarettes you can only assume he’d snagged from his room, “I’m, uh- I was gonna grab a smoke out on the balcony. Join me?”
There’s something of desperation in the way he asks you. All the words are casual, but his tone is an undermining plea; please say yes, please join me, please let me in. He knows something’s wrong, and he’s not just turning a blind eye and ignoring it this time.
You stare at the pack of Marlboro Reds for a few seconds before shrugging, “Sure.”
It’s certainly not as enthusiastic as you’re sure he was hoping for, but he smiles at the small victory nonetheless.
The first thing you notice about his balcony, aside from the clustered furniture, is the view. You’ve never thought your city to be very charming, always looking at it from a pedestrian’s view or through the lens of a tired, crabby college student embarking on another late night. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d step foot on a higher floor of a building like Eddie’s, one just tall enough to see over the rooftops of most of the mundane buildings, one that could peer right over the skyline and show a new dawn breaking. It’s a flourish of pink, orange, and violet, each shade stealing away another breath. The sun is just barely yawning over the horizon, just finally awakening.
God, you’re going to regret not actually sleeping during this time.
“What’s got you scowling?” Eddie mumbles the question out around a cigarette, pausing with his lighter in midair.
You turn your head, and- just like that, all the anger and confusion melts away. He’s painted in the same shades of the sunrise, in a golden light that almost seems to be emitted from him rather than the waking sun. He is all soft edges and tired eye bags, a stubble that you can imagine the itch of against your palm if you were to reach out a hand to hold his face. If you were to kiss him right now, you fear he might dissolve all over your tongue, leaving nothing but his sweetness behind to remind you it was all real.
It’s real. Even if it doesn’t make sense with what you guys projected before tonight, even if it doesn’t align with how your lives will continue on, tonight was real. You were here, he was here, and what happened…. Simply happened.
I could never hate you.
You get it now. Because in this lighting, with a soft breeze tugging your hair and mind alike, you know you feel the same way about him. And you know it contradicts all you have shown him in the past.
You could never hate him. He could never hate you. It’s unfortunate that that’s what you’d been calling it before tonight – hate.
“It’s going to really suck,” you breathe out half a sentence. Two endings before you: letting this night go or, “Not sleeping for a full twenty four hours.”
You don’t know how he does it, how he looks at you like he knows you had something else to say. But he gives you those eyes, and they almost elicit the truth from you.
Almost.
He throws his head back in laughter, and the pinks and purples and all the fights wasted are now trailing down his neck, “Yeah, it is, isn’t it?”
He’s much better at pretending than you are. You know that now.
“Seriously,” you turn and walk to the railing, crossing your arms against the metal grate before he joins you at your side, “I’ll probably ditch my classes on Monday. I’ll have to sleep twenty four hours straight to even the score.”
“God, I wish I could fuck off for Monday,” Eddie groans. He’s throwing his head back again, and you can’t help but wish you could replace the golden rays with your lips. You wish your warmth could sink beneath his skin like the sun’s does.
“You can’t?” your voice cracks with the question as he finally lights the cigarette between his lips.
He takes a long drag, shaking his head with the exhale of smoke, “Nope. I work Mondays at the shop.”
“The shop?”
“Myo’s,” the way his lips curl around the filter of his cigarette as he fights his grin burns a hole in the middle of your chest. Burning and erupting, yearning and longing, ignored and buried, “The auto shop on Main street.”
You know by the way he looks at you that the name should ring a bell, but considering you don’t own a car, you don’t have the slightest clue what his job is, “Oh, so you’re a mechanic?”
“I- Yeah,” he nods slowly, “Yeah, I’m a mechanic,” he pauses and you can see that he has more to say, it just takes him a moment. He looks off the balcony, shifts his weight between his two feet, takes another drag of nicotine. When he finally gathers his thoughts, you’re patient and waiting, biting back a small smile the moment he whips his face towards you, “Have we seriously never talked about that before? I swear I’ve told you I’m a mechanic.”
“Nope, seriously. Never.”
“There’s no fuckin’ way.”
“There absolutely is a way,” you laugh, letting your head fall backwards and not catching the way his gaze falls on you. The sunrise paints you in just as beautiful of a lighting as it had him. If someone asked you, you’d say that you doubt he noticed, but he did. He noticed. He always noticed, “Usually, by now, we’d be at each other’s throats.”
“We sort of were,” he shrugs, eyes still glued to how your collarbone peaks out from beneath his sweatshirt, “Surprised we didn’t leave more hickies.”
The topic you’d been avoiding. The topic he seemed indifferent about.
I could never hate you.
You decide to put his words to the test.
“Are we going to talk about it?” you ask, looking down now and picking at flakes along the metal railing, still not noticing him noticing you, “About…. what we just did?”
“Are you always this straight to the point?” he chuckles nervously. In your peripherals, you catch the way he leans and mirrors you, side by side on the railing. His light cigarette hung loosely between indifferent fingers. Indifference, indifference, indifference.
If you’d just look at him, you’d see anything but indifference written across his face.
“Only when it matters,” you reply, breathing in his secondhand smoke, “Only when it’s important.”
His pinky is within reach of yours once more, just like at the parking garage. Even after feeling the entire expanse of his bare skin against yours, you still crave more – you crave for the intimacy that comes from hooking pinkies as grown adults, from knuckles curling into each other like hinges of a door of possibility.
You don’t see the way he swallows hard, or how he nods subtly to himself before he says, “Alright. Let’s talk about it.”
Those words make you look at him quickly, taken back and not expecting for him to give so easily. If you had noticed him noticing you, it would have been the expected reaction; if you’d seen the way his eyes traced over the pink and orange shadows of your features, you’d know he can’t really say no to you. Not anymore.
“Yeah?” you only ask for the confirmation because you’re waiting for the other shoe to drop.
He won’t let it. He holds it tightly, just nodding, “Yeah. I… You deserve my honesty.”
You deserve my honesty.
I could never hate you.
“I’m starting to get a bad feeling of deja vu, Eddie. We don’t have to do honesty if you don’t want to-”
“Ask me anything. Right here, right now. I’ll answer with the full truth.”
You flashback to hours before, when he’d offered his honesty this willingly and you’d only thrown it back in his face. But right now isn’t that moment, the two of you aren’t in the heat of an argument, there isn’t an impending doom on the horizon and the weight of the night no longer rests on either of your shoulders.
You don’t care as much about why he hates you now, or what he meant by never hating you to begin with. You don’t care much about the porn magazines and you don’t care what changed that first night.
They’re all petty details that have had too long to gather dust.
You do care about his job, you do care to know why he chose to fix cars. You do care about if he still takes night classes, and if yes, which ones. You care to know his favorite color and you care to know how he takes his coffee in the morning. Maybe you even care to know if he has a favorite coffee shop.
You care to know all the new petty details you’d never uncovered about him. Miniscule bits and pieces of him you crave to hold in your hands, if only just for tonight- or today, at this point.
But you need a baseline question. Something that won’t throw him off, but really doesn’t twist around your heart as severely as the others. Something that does neither damage nor nurture to the vines and blooms still occupying your chest.
You suddenly remember a small detail that had been revealed to you by a third party tonight, “Okay, um, well…” you ponder on phrasing, and Eddie edges ever so closer to you, “At that bar we went to tonight, the bartender – Frank – mentioned how you’d been going there for about six months.”
Eddie pales, but he nods nonetheless. Maybe the question is more loaded than you’d anticipated.
“I guess... I…” you continue to stumble over your words and it only leaves Eddie more time to panic, “I’m just curious why you started going? Yeah, yeah. That’s… that’s my question,” you tilt your chin up, try to be seem more confident in your question.
Even in his panic and sudden blanching, Eddie looks ready to laugh at you as his eyebrows scrunch. Somewhere between the wrinkles, you swear you could find something like affection, “That’s your question? Why did I start going to a bar that’s conveniently close to my apartment?”
Maybe it is a good baseline question. Maybe he was just nervous from the other possible questions you could have asked about your time spent together at the bar.
“That’s my question,” you confirm.
The color isn’t returning to Eddie. His hand shakes when he brings his cigarette to his lips. His breath is evidently shaky on the exhale as the smoke puffs out unevenly.
It’s not a good baseline question.
“I…” he won’t meet your gaze, and all your gut can do is twist, twist, twist in anticipation, “I got kicked out of my last bar I was a regular at.”
“Got kicked out? Why?”
It’s ripping the bandaid off the wound of honesty, and neither of you even realize it. Neither of you notice the blood of your history catching up to you.
Eddie sighs and rolls his shoulders before looking at you, “I got into a fight.”
Your twisted gut stills. A fight? Why is he freaking out so evidently over a fight? Does he think you’ll judge him that harshly?
“A fight?” you echo your thoughts with a soft laugh into the morning air, “You… Why do you say that like it’s a bad thing? Jesus, did you go to jail that night? That would suck, but… Eddie, I won’t judg-”
“I didn’t go to jail,” he interrupts, “I mean, they should have called the cops on me, but they didn’t. They gave me a second option of leaving immediately, and being banned for life, effective the moment I stepped out of the building that night. I took the ban.”
“Well,” you relax your shoulders, looking over at the rising sun, “That’s nice of them, I guess, right? I’m sure whatever mean drunk swung their fist at you deserved to get their ass handed to them-”
Eddie interrupts you with a soft utterance of your name, making you look back to his hues of gold instead of the sky’s, “I swung first.”
Oh. Maybe that’s why he still looks so wrecked with nerves. Maybe he thinks that’s the piece you’ll judge him on – it has to be the reason you can see sweat gathering along his eyebrow, just beneath his bangs. “Then I’m sure whoever it was deserved it? I-”
“He did,” he interrupts one final time. You’re about to finally snap at you, telling him to just let you speak, to just accept that you weren’t going to judge him over some bar brawl, when he drops the final bomb of an answer. Here is the honesty, you both realize at the same time, as his words slice through you, “It was about you. I got banned because of you.”
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a heads-up, and one that I think is important:
unless you make it a private bookmark, authors on ao3 can see what you put in the notes when you bookmark something
I guess just be glad that I find it funny that someone rated my national treasure fic "3/5 stars" in their notes xD
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Reading Jegulus fics is all fun and games until you get to Regulus’s chapters.
Then the romcom turns to extreme horror suddenly and you’re wondering how you went from James winning quidditch to Regulus drowning, almost getting killed, killing someone, getting cursed, bullied, and more!!
(stop torturing my son plz)
#regulus black#And they’re always masterpieces#marauders fandom#marauders era#james potter#jegulus#jegulus fic#jegulus fanfiction#the marauders era#marauders fanfiction#harry potter marauders#marauders
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“Aesthetics and symbols are important,” he states simply, and by now she's learned that Sasori’s aesthetics differ widely from her mother’s optics. It’s not about maintaining a perfect image for external validation or finding a balance to please the senses. “What is the point of living if you just walk blind without trying to see the bigger picture? We're particles of dust, meaningless compared to the eternity of the universe.“ "You're really obsessed with eternity and beauty. Is this some kind of god complex?"
sos yappathon scene from the amazing @seoulfulnights's fic koi no yokan. please check it out!! <3
#my art#sasosaku#sakura haruno#sasori#fic recs#her characterization of sakura is flawless truly#every character really#theyre both insane in a way that slays#sns existing. what more can i ask for#trying my best to support this masterpiece#seoulfulnights#i nearly died doing this bg but its ok
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