#this opening leads down from what I'm seeing

[psychohoneywhiskey]

What about Wade going to a different timelime requested by the TVA years after the Time Ripper. They told him the X-men and the anchor being of that universe were in danger and he needed to make sure they survived and he got rid of the problem for good.

So Wade goes alone to avoid his babygirl having to face the alternative versions of his dead team. He gets to the X mansion and explains them the situation, tells them he is Deadpool, a mercenary sent by a time organization to save them all and they believe him.

Everything was going surprisingly well until, well, it wasn't. And how could he have not thought to ask who the anchor being of that universe was? How could he not notice the absence of a very important person there? He is still surprised (after years of not seeing that amount of rage directed at him from his Logan) to see a younger Logan get to the mansion baring his teeth at him, unseathing his claws and preparing to pounce, seeing him as a threat.

And when he does he tries everything in his power not to hurt him, evading the punches, claws, and 300 pounds of feral Wolverine and not attacking him even once. Eventually, Logan stops confused about the man's playful attitude and the voices of the X-men asking him to calm down. When he asks Wade suspiciously 'why didn't you fight back bub?', Wade just laughs and answers in a tone so soft and sweet and foreign to him 'Well, if this had happened years ago I would have indulged in some fun, I always loved taming a feral Wolvie but I can't bear to hurt an alternative version of my husband now'.

Everything got so quiet he could have heard a pin drop but Wade was solely focused on Logan, watching the similarities to the love of his life who now had some more wrinkles around his eyes and cheeks, a soft healthy body, hair almost fully gray and a sweet smile almost all of the time around him, Laura, their friends, their family. Compared to this Logan who still looked so tense, wary, ready to run.

He stays with them for weeks waiting for the attackers to get there while spending time with this version of Logan. And as the time passes the man understands why other version of him would be head over heels for the mercenary, yeah the man is so damn weird and loud and fucking annoying at times but he has never found someone who could understand him and make him feel the way he does. He starts yearning, for a person, a place he will never have cause it already belongs to someone else and he dreads the moment Wade will leave and not come back ever again. And the X-men notice it, bewildered by Logan's behavior around Deadpool, how he seems to follow his lead as naturally as breathing, how they seem to get what the other is thinking or feeling just by seeing each other and they realize Logan has never been fully theirs cause he is just waiting for someone else to bring him home.

Inevitably when the time comes, and Dealpool saves them, he doesn't even have time to react and say goodbye to the merc cause a weird orange portal opens in the middle of the war field and a blue and yellow suited hand appears through it yanking Wade away, and Logan recognizes a voice so similar to his saying 'you've taken too long Mouth, our daughter's birthday is next week, and we all miss you at home'.

Logan knows all his life he's just been a stray longing for a place to settle but at least now he can hope there is a loud mouth, sarcastic, pretty, and soft mercenary with no filter waiting for him somewhere in his world to take him home.

I apologize for any mistake, I'm not a writer and English is not my first language but I just can't get enough of these men and any of their versions being soft with each other.

[cheeseceli]

Under the mistletoe

Pairing: Yang Jeongin × Gn!reader

Genre: fluff, friends to lovers

Warnings: reader is lowkey oblivious but not really, that's it?

A/n: so this is my Christmas post 🙂‍↕️

Daily click

"Questions can be saved for later, just follow me" with that, you had absolutely no chance to talk back as he was already walking away, expecting you to actually follow him.

You were at the boys' Christmas party, celebrating the holiday with your closest friends - including Jeongin - but this specific person seemed to have other plans. Ever since he laid his eyes on you, he had been trying to get you to talk to him alone and, preferably, outside. Now, he was succeeding.

"What are we going to do on the balcony?" you asked, trying to keep up with his pace "It's freezing out there."

"I said no questions for now. Just trust me, okay?"

Once again you weren't able to respond, as he was already opening the door for you: "after you."

And so you did. Outside, it was in fact cold, snow slowly falling down. When you looked at Jeongin you expected to see him either shivering because of the weather or with a mischievous grin, that would explain the reason as to why you're far from the party. However, you notice him nervous.

That's odd.

"Jeongin? Are you okay?"

He seems to be lost in thought, his gaze nowhere near where you were, looking up instead.

"Yeah, yeah." Basically a synonym to no.

"Are we here for a reason...? You seem to be a little-"

"Oh yes, actually" he replied rather quickly, walking to the spot he was looking at before "Come here, there's something I want to show you."

You followed his lead, getting closer to the view. Though he wasn't looking ahead, so you didn't know if that was what he truly wanted to show you, you couldn't help but be awestruck. You had seen that scenario a few times before, every time you visited the boys' dorm, but never had it felt so magical.

"Is that what you wanted to show me?" You slowly look at him, your eyes not wanting to leave the beautiful sight ahead of you "it's beautiful."

"I mean, that as well." He looked up quickly, and you almost didn't realise this small gesture "but there was this other thing..."

As his voice died out, you looked above only to finally notice what this all was about:

"The mistletoe" you smiled. He was waiting for you to see it. You look at him, his eyes not exactly meeting yours just yet "What? You brought me here and aren't even going to kiss me?"

With this last statement he finally looked at you, a bit of excitement and hope shining on his eyes. Your smile didn't seem to falter anytime soon, as it was growing even more with his reaction.

"Can I?" he quietly said, afraid of doing anything that could ruin the moment.

You smile, barely believing it. You had been waiting ages for something like this: any opportunity, any moment that would give you the chance of becoming something more with Jeongin. And then he, during the holiday season, simply makes a whole plan to give you that chance.

It was adorable, to be honest. How he was so determined to bring you under the mistletoe, but still let you silently know that whatever you wanna do from now on is up to you. He's letting you choose. And no matter when, either on Christmas or on any other normal day, you would always choose him. And so you did:

"We cannot break a tradition, can we?"

Masterlist I you'll probably like: Christmas with skz

Reminder this is just fiction!! I'm not trying to portray real life and you shouldn't believe that this is how the member actually is. This is just for the vibe and the delulu!

Taglist (open!): @yuyubeans @dandelions-143 @sleepyleeji @jinnie-ret @sheraayasherrecs @rockstarkkami @urlocalmultigroupfan (couldn't tag in bold)

Divider by: @enchanthings-a | Images 1, 2 and 3

[ivystoryweaver]

'Twas the Night Before - Marc Spector

Marc + falling asleep together for @ladywynne

Winter Wonderland Fluff Ficlets | Marc Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Christmas night and Hanukkah 1st night are both Dec. 25 this year and I'm REAL excited!

Notes: Word Count 2.5k, gn!reader, kissing and flirting. Vague references to Marc's past but it's not angst. Marc is a flirty boy. He's younger than in the Moon Knight series (late 20s instead of late 30s). Just go with it. Overuse of italics, not beta'd.

You don’t believe it.

Even though you see him with your own eyes, you can’t actually believe Marc Spector is standing in his childhood driveway, which sits directly across the street from your childhood driveway.

From your old bedroom window, you can see him pause as his hands land on his hips. He’s facing away from you, but you watch his head drop as if he needs a moment to collect his thoughts or steel himself.

Resisting the urge to bang on the window, or open it and shout his name, you pause as his father, Elias throws open the front door.

Marc must hear his name, but not from you, because he finally looks up, waving halfheartedly before collecting a carryon size suitcase from the trunk of the car he drove up in. After grabbing a backpack from the passenger seat, he trudges up the walk, pausing momentarily before accepting his father’s handshake.

Even from your vantage point, you notice the tension he holds in his shoulders - broader and sturdier than they were the last time you saw him. When you were teenagers. Children, really.

His father claps him gently on the back before leading him inside.

Quite nonchalantly dressed in the cutest outfit you brought with you on the trip (besides your Christmas attire), you march the distance to your neighbor’s house, armed with a paper invitation to your mom and step-dad’s Christmas Eve/holiday party.

Elias would have received an invitation a few weeks back, but you want to be sure that Marc knows he’s invited.

And you want to see him.

Elias graciously accepts your invitation, promising to pass it along to Marc, who is out at the market. You express your disappointment in missing him, and Elias remarks how grown-up you look, and how he agrees that Marc has to see you during his brief visit. Finally, Elias invites you over for the first night of Hanukkah.

“Hey there, need some help?”

Yearning mingles with relief and excitement as you hear the soft tenor of Marc Spector’s voice later that afternoon.

Grocery bags in hand, you whirl around to see him - really, finally see him. No taller, but more handsome. He’s grown into his features. Some people are cuter as kids, while others grow into their best look as adults. Marc was never unfortunate looking, but adulthood suits him wonderfully.

His dark curls are longer than you’ve ever seen them, but styled neatly off his face, despite the rebellious curl or two threatening to fall across his serious, coffee colored eyes. Jaw squared, his throat bobs, full lips parting as he utters your name.

"You’re home for Christmas.”

You smile at him brilliantly.

“You’re home for Hanukkah.”

He quickly nods, reaching, without invitation, into the trunk of your mother’s car to retrieve the rest of the grocery bags. “Same day this year.”

"I know, I thought of you once I noticed it on the calendar.”

His eyes find yours. “You thought of me?”

“Of course,” you nod toward his childhood home. “I think of you every year when I come home, always wondering if this is the year I’ll see the elusive Marc Spector.”

Something darkens his countenance. You can guess what. But he grants you a wry smile anyway. “Lead the way.”

You do so, feeling your heart thump in your chest as he follows you up the front walk, through your front door, all the way into your kitchen as you announce, "Mom, look who I found!”

Your mom squeals in excitement to see the young man she used to know, rushing him through setting down his grocery bags on the kitchen island so she can give him a proper hug.

You hover closely, making sure she releases Marc at an appropriately brief interval. You don’t want him bristling and uncomfortable in your home. Not during the holidays, or ever.

Pleasantries are exchanged, Marc is offered a sizeable sugar cookie in the shape of a dreidel, which makes him chuckle. He nods for you to take one as well, and you choose one shaped like a candy cane, if only to keep him from eating his alone.

"Why don’t you two go downstairs and I’ll bring you some tea or coffee…or cocoa?” Your mom offers, that matchmaking twinkle in her eye.

"Mom, we’re not six,” you tease. “You have enough to do for the party.”

You turn to Marc, who is smiling warmly, something serene settling in his countenance as he watches his old neighbors interact. Just the sight of him steals your breath for a moment. He is truly, remarkably handsome.

He apologizes, letting you both know he has other plans for the afternoon, but promises he'll see you soon.

You show him out, bouncing at little on your toes at the chance of seeing him again.

"So, does this mean you're coming to our party?"

One corner of his mouth curls. "As long as we hide downstairs the way we used to. And dad says you might come over to ours."

“Definitely.”

The holiday party is a smashing success, as always. The whole neighborhood turns up, including Mr. Spector and Marc. Since he hasn't visited home in years, he draws a lot of attention, most of which doesn't interest him.

But he plays the dutiful son and the friendly neighbor, continuously gravitating back to you as a sort of touchstone. You make sure to "need his help" carrying dishes to the kitchen, taking out the trash - anything, really, to let Marc escape if he wants to. The two of you walk Mr. Spector back across the street, lingering longer than is necessary in your front yard.

"You don't have to go yet, do you?"

Scuffing his foot on the pavement, he hesitates, so you're quick to add, "We haven't dodged the rest of the party in the basement yet. And of course, there's the pool table."

"Right," he agrees, remembering the fun (and safe) times shared there.

"I saved some of the good whiskeyyyy," you tempt, taking his arm. "We can watch Eight Crazy Nights."

"Hell no. Die Hard."

Arm in arm, you sneak him back inside, texting your mom to let her know you'll help her clean up tomorrow.

She's quick to text back that you should 'take your time' and 'have fun' with lots of embarrassing emojis.

“Wow, it’s like stepping back in time. This place hasn’t changed one bit,” he marvels as the two of you descend the oddly curved, carpeted staircase to your basement/family room.

"I know. Time capsule,” you laugh, watching as he takes a gander at all the old photos framed and situated across the mantle.

“God, you look almost exactly the same,” he remarks, zeroed in on your senior portrait.

"For real?”

He regards you openly, warmth in his eyes. And something more, as if he appreciates the view. “You’re exactly the way I remember you. Must be nice not to age.”

“Yeah, right,” you chuckle. “But thank you.” A beat passes between you, gazes locking, before heat creeps up your neck, warming your cheeks. “You look different, though. Good different, I mean. You don’t hunch anymore.”

He laughs. “Steven hunches enough for the both of us.”

"Oh Steven,” you remember the alter kept so carefully hidden, but you knew. You always knew. “How is Steven?”

“Good, I think. Probably won’t pass up the chance to tell you himself,” Marc diplomatically responds. “He’s been quiet since we got…home.” He clears his throat.

Boldly stepping closer, you, gently grasp his forearm. “I’m glad you’re here. So glad.”

“Thank you,” he responds evenly, and it feels like something is healed in him since you last talked, and certainly since you last laid eyes on him. “You ready to get your ass kicked at pool?”

“Nine ball, corner pocket,” Marc announces smugly, taking his fourth shot in a row.

“I should so bump into you right now,” you tease.

“You can. I’ll still beat you,” he fires right back, sinking the shot, which makes you groan. So you bump him next time, hip to hip, and he misses.

“Your turn,” he offers, with mock graciousness, and you can tell he’s plotting his revenge. Eyeing him suspiciously, you call your shot and lean over to take it when you suddenly feel him crowding in behind you.

“This is actually my shot, cheater,” he breathes on your ear, strong arms encircling yours as his chest presses against your back. “We’re gonna play the rest of the game just like this.”

“Fine,” you pretend to shrug him off, as if you aren’t thrilled to have him close. He smells like sun-drenched sands and secrets and spice.

Your eyes drift closed as his lips almost brush your cheek. “You knew this would happen.” Wrapping his arms and hands carefully around yours, he executes the shot you called, clumsily but successfully - the two of you almost tipping over in the process.

Gripping your hip with one hand, steadies you, then maneuvers you to the other end of the table to set up for the next shot. “You always know what happens when you cheat,” he taunts, settling in behind you and announcing his next move.

“I think you want to play like this,” you fire back. "You probably love it when I cheat. Consider it your Hanukkah present,” you tease, thrusting back against him temptingly, yet playfully.

The slightest, satisfied growl rumbles in his chest as he leans you forward to make the shot. Then he turns you around, taking the pool stick out of your hand and stashing it across the table beside his own. Leaning forward, he cages you in with his forearms braced on the table's edge.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be?” His gaze drops to your lips.

“Yeah. Guess so,” you shrug. "What are you gonna do about it?"

Marc wets his lips with his tongue, his eyes incapable of focusing on one part of you for long. Eyes, mouth, neck, even your chest and he's not subtle about it. "Haven’t changed at all.”

“You have,” you tell him, grasping his biceps for support as he crowds into your space. “You seem...good.”

Sobering a bit at your observation, Marc eases back out of playful mode, and your personal space. “Better.”

"Good." Missing him so near, but feeling a little off kilter from his blatant flirting, you close the slight distance between you, palms pressing against the warmth of his chest. “Marc, I missed you.”

"I missed you too."

"Now this is a party," Marc says, resting comfortably enough on the lumpy old brown couch, socked feet stretched out in front of him on the coffee table, nursing the "good" whiskey.

"Told you. Thanks for sticking with me upstairs," you softly reply, not at all interested in the action movie sounds on the world's oldest TV.

"No problem. I don't mind it as much as I used to. Especially with you here." He offers you a sip of whiskey with such a familiar nonchalance, you almost feel like a couple.

"I can tell, you know - that the same things don't...I guess bother you as much," you gently prod. "Or maybe you handle things differently?"

"Hopefully," he nods, fingers brushing yours as he takes the drink back from you. "But what about you? How are you?"

So you catch him up on your life. College, significant others, job, your family.

"Your turn."

Then Marc tells you the most incredible story about Egypt and gods and magic powers. And how he is with Steven now. No more hiding.

"It's okay if you don't believe me," he concludes, knocking back the last gulp of whiskey. "I wouldn't."

"I'll always believe you. Tell me more about Egypt. About everything."

Marc has always been a fortress - always withdrawing into himself as to not disturb the space around him any more than was necessary. When his emotions did come out, it was usually...really intense, to say the least. Then he would run.

And that was Marc, for a long while. Feel, hurt, withdraw, lash out, run. It was one of the reasons you probably weren't together right now. Not to mention your own contributions to the issues between you years ago.

It's been a long Christmas Eve of wrapping and party prepping and hosting, and having Marc here this year is equally soothing and all-consuming.

Before you realize it, you've inched closer, arm pushing into his arm from shoulder to elbow. Your head drops to his shoulder as he continues talking. Eventually, he either takes a break or concludes his tale, focusing in on the movie. But in the mean time, his voice so soothes you that your eyes flutter closed before you realize it.

The movie ends, Bruce Willis saves the day, along with Reginald VelJohnson. "Let it Snow" plays during the credits and Marc softly calls your name. He suspected you were asleep, but now that he's certain, he doesn't have the heart to disturb you.

The gentle sounds of your breathing lull him into a state of calm he hasn't felt most of his life. He smiles to himself, lets his head drop back against the headrest and closes his eyes.

A couple hours later, you wake up, smooshed up against Marc's side, some Christmas movie playing on the TV. Marc's head has slumped down on his chest and you feel terrible because he simply can't be comfortable.

Calling his name, you shake him gently before easing down on the floor beside him to help him lie down. He stirs momentarily, bleary eyes blinking, struggling to focus.

Seeing you, he seems to remember his situation. "Sorry," he mumbles.

"No, it's okay. Lie down. I'll get you a blanket if you want to stay."

Perhaps he wants to walk back across the street, but it is the middle of a cold night, and this would not be the first time he spent the night in your basement.

But as you stand to get him the blanket, he seems to realize you're leaving. "No, stay," he pouts, still half-asleep. "You're warm."

You sleepily giggle, hesitating only a moment before settling into the tiny space he's created for you beside his stretched out body. "Marc, I don't think I'm a very good blanket."

"Just stay for a minute," he whispers, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his nose in your hair. "Just one more minute."

"Okay, I'll stay" you agree, now wide awake as your heart races. It takes you a second to tuck your body into his.

You end up half on top of him and it feels so good you can't even think straight.

"You can go upstairs if you want," he offers, palm spreading over the curve of your back as he presses you closer. "Just wanted to hold you, is all."

"I want you to hold me," you confess in a rush, breath ghosting his cheek. "I want to stay."

Then you feel his lips on yours, warm, soft and demanding. You fall apart in his arms as he tastes you, tenderly tracing the shape of your jaw as he eases back.

You don't let him get far, pressing your mouth to his.

“Welcome home, Marc,” you whisper in the dark before you fall asleep together on Christmas morning.

Winter Wonderland Fluff Ficlets | Marc Masterlist | Main Masterlist

[backseatsoldier]

"Broken", Not Stupid - 4

Pairing: alpha!Simon "Ghost" Riley x unusual omega!OC (13)

CW: Omegaverse; cult-like situation; dehumanization

Author's Note: I can't stop. Oops. If you want to be on the tag list, drop a comment to let me know <3 Also, I feel the need to warn you that CoD fic is what got me into Omegaverse and this is the first time I've written it lol

Thirteen hours.

It took thirteen hours for the paperwork to be filled out and processed. They'd dragged Simon off immediately to fill out the paperwork and I was "escourted" (dragged) to my space to wait.

The last thirteen hours have been spent with staff members pampering me. Bathing me, doing my hair and makeup, dressing me in clothes that aren't Salvation's omega dresscode - all of it. There was even something of a literal photoshoot?

I don't know why they needed photos of me, but I always knew these people were weird.

However, all of that lead to me being prettily posed in the room they keep omegas in while they wait for their new alphas to arrive. Specifically at 10:30 pm. I almost want to shoot Simon for the insistence of immediate pick-up.

Could be asleep by now.

A knock at the door pulls me from my whirlwind of thoughts and I sit up straighter, putting on my best "submissive omega" impression for whoever enters.

"UK-009-0013? Your alpha has arrived," an employee calls from the other side of the door.

I stand quickly and tug gently at the way-too-big black skull tshirt that they ended up putting me in at some point.

"Come in."

The door creaks open and reveals Jenny - who looks way too happy - and Simon.

"There she is, sir. In the clothes you dropped off, as you requested," Jenny says a bit too proudly.

"I can see that."

I have to suppress my laugh at the look of hurt on Jenny's face at Simon's lack of praise. Instead, I continue my "submissive omega" act and begin fidgeting with the edge of the tshirt while looking up at Simon through my lashes. The more smitten I appear the better.

"Simon," I call to him softly, meekly.

He wastes no time crossing the room and scooping me into his arms at the sound of my voice. My arms wrap tightly around him and I grab fistfuls of the back of his hoodie.

"Anyway you can tone that shit down a bit?" he whispers into my ear, voice a bit strained.

"Not if you want any chance of getting me out of here without roadblocks," I whisper back with my face burried against his neck. "Don't make it weird."

I'm acting, to him, like I'm unphased by having an alpha but the seemingly-dormant omega portion of my brain seems to be waking up. She's still drowsy and unsure what's happening, but with my face shoved against his neck...

I can smell him.

I've never been this close, physically, to any alpha before. The fact that doing so is triggering the omega part of my brain is royally pissing me off. Thankfully, Simon loosens his grip on me and steps back. One of his hands drops to mine, his fingers lacing through mine.

"Everything is settled. Correct?" Simon addresses Jenny agan as he turns. "I'd like to take my future mate home now."

My cheeks warm slightly at the comment and the implications, but I remind myself that it's part of the act to get me (and hopefully other omegas) out of Salvation's grasp.

"Of course! Everything is settled and you're both free to go." Jenny's smile is unsettling, as per usual, but so is her choice in wording. It's clear from the way Simon's grip tightens around my hand that he also finds it strange. However, as promised, we are allowed to leave with no problems.

As soon as we're out of view of the property, I feel my entire body relax. My muscles ache from being tense for so long - literal years - and I'm tearing up out of relief.

Bless Simon, though. If he noticed my change in demeanor, he didn't comment or react.

"Are these... your clothes?" I ask once I manage to force the tears back.

He stays quiet for so long I start to think he didn't even hear me.

"Would it bother you if I said yes?"

Not... the response I was expecting, but alright.

"Not really, no. It'd be expected. Giving me things with your scent and all that." I toy with the strings on the sweatpants. They're long and hang low from how tightly I had to tie them to get the pants to stay up.

"This, whatever it is, doesn't have to be like that." His voice is gentle, unlike what it has been 99% of the time. Even when we were playing our parts to get me out of there there was a mostly gruff, gravely tone to his voice. I glance at him, confused as all hell, but his eyes are trained on the road.

"Didn't you go to Salvation to find an omega? A mate?"

"Yeah, I guess," he shrugs, eyes forward still. "But there are more important things in the world than finding a mate and reproducing for the sake of having a mate and reproducing. Like rights and safety. Especially that of omegas."

The omega in my mind seems sad at his offer and point of view of our situation, but I couldn't be happier. Salvation is not what it implies and I knew I would never get out of there or be able to help my fellow omegas while stuck in their grasp.

An alpha who seems to actually care about the wellbeing of others. Even if he is a bit... odd.

Things could be worse. A lot worse.

Masterlist | Part One

Tag List: @lucienofthelakes @lostintransist @demothers-empty-blog @scaredyspooks

[left-side-up]

Jupiter

Smallishbeans hit the ground too hard.

When Joel opens his eyes, he's in a desert.

That's strange. For one, the Wild Life server doesn't have a desert. Even if it did, Joel wouldn't be around to see it, seeing as he's dead now.

The sun beams down on the sand. Joel squints. It's unbearably bright here.

The desert looks like it used to be a war zone. Cacti and lava surround its borders, making an impenetrable wall, and in the middle of everything is a series of deep craters.

There's not another soul in sight.

Joel begins walking.

Something about this place seems sad. Familiar, almost. The answer is on the tip of his tongue, but he just can't seem to grasp it. He knows this place.

An image of Gem flashes in his head. She would've liked to build here, he thinks. She'd know how to turn the barren wasteland into something cute and livable. He wishes she'd had more time. A space to build freely without fear of being backstabbed or blown up.

There's something you're forgetting.

"Who was that?"

Joel whips around, searching for the source of the voice. There's still no one here. The sun beams down on the sand.

"Show yourself! I just won a death game, I'll have you know!"

I know.

In the blinding light of the desert, the waves of heat start to reassemble a person.

"Who are you?"

The figure is short, but it's hard to make out any other features. Joel reaches for a sword, but his hand comes back empty.

The mirage raises a hand and gestures for Joel to come closer. Then it starts walking away. Under any other circumstances, Joel wouldn't be dumb enough to follow. But Lizzie and Gem are gone, and Joel is pretty sure he's dead, and there's nothing left to lose now. So he follows.

As they walk, the mirage becomes clearer and clearer. It begins with a more solid outline. Then sandy blond hair. Then a red sweater, and fabric draped over it, large enough to defend from the desert sun. Then feathers, red and blue and yellow.

I killed you, Joel thinks. And then- No. You're not the Grian I killed.

A mountain comes into view. There are structures on top, and stairs leading up to them- evidence of life.

Or not.

The house is just as destroyed as the rest of the desert. All that remains of the front porch is a flowerpot, cracked and lain on its side, dirt and dead lilacs pouring out of it.

The mirage of Grian is now clearer than ever. Joel can see the scars on his hands and the poppy in his hair as he guides him towards their final destination.

A grave. And a ring of cacti. And blood, splattered all around the tiny arena. The mirage kneels in the red sand, resting his hands in his lap.

Sit with me, he beckons, and Joel complies.

It's silent for a moment. Just Joel, the mirage of Grian, and the grave before them. Then-

Can we still be friends?

Joel startles at Scar's voice. He looks around, but there is no Scar, mirage or otherwise.

YOU TRAITOR!

Long live the science bros!

Put your shirt back on!

I am going to murder them.

Grian and Scar's voices echo through the war torn desert, a series of memories Joel has no part in. Some sad, some happy, some bleak or forlorn. Beside him, the mirage holds his head high. Grian has always been a prideful being. Even when he's sad. Even when he's in pain.

...How does he know that?

You may slay me and take the enchanter.

I can't do that.

I think that, no matter what, we can call this a double victory.

Scar, fight back!

I'm so sorry.

I'm so sorry, Scar.

Grian fell from a high place.

The mirage is crying.

Joel thinks he can piece together what happened here.

"Grian, is this... was this a life game?"

Do you really want to know?

"Yes."

Grian wipes his tears, then holds out his hands to Joel.

I'm sorry in advance.

"For what?"

The mirage doesn't respond.

Joel sighs and takes Grian's hands.

[scarletwinterxx]

won't let these little things slip out of my mouth - jeon wonwoo imagine

i have a confession... i cried while writing this. now i'm sad no one will ever propose to me this way, why oh why did i even write this BUT I LOVE IT SO MUCH🥺🥺🥺🥺

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2024 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(pics not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The cold winter air nips at your cheeks as you walk beside Wonwoo, his camera slung over his shoulder as always. The streets are adorned with twinkling lights, festive wreaths, and the hum of Christmas carols drifting from nearby speakers. Despite the chill, you feel warm. Maybe it’s the cozy scarf he insisted you wear or the way his hand occasionally brushes yours as you walk.

He’s been unusually quiet tonight, though. You steal a glance at him, noting the slight curve of his lips as he stares ahead, the golden glow of streetlights reflecting in his dark eyes. He’s up to something. You just know it.

“Jeon Wonwoo,” you say, breaking the silence, “what’s with the secrecy? You’ve been grinning like a kid who knows something I don’t.”

He chuckles softly, the sound warm and familiar. “Patience,” he teases, his tone as smooth as always. “You’ll see soon enough.”

He leads you to a quaint little gallery tucked away on a quieter street. The windows are frosted, but you can see the soft glow of light inside, illuminating what looks like an intimate exhibit. Your curiosity piques as he holds the door open for you, the bell above jingling softly.

The gallery smells of wood and faintly of pine, and the atmosphere is calm, almost reverent. Wonwoo leads you through the first room, where a variety of black-and-white photos hang on the walls. They’re beautiful, sure, but they don’t hold your attention for long. Not when you can feel Wonwoo’s excitement radiating beside you.

“Come on,” he says, tugging you gently toward a smaller, dimly lit room at the back. “This is the part I wanted you to see.”

The moment you step inside, your breath catches. The walls are lined with photographs, but these aren’t just any pictures. They’re familiar. Too familiar.

“That’s... Wait, that’s from our trip to Jeju!” you exclaim, pointing to a shot of you laughing on the beach. Another photo catches your eye—a candid of you staring in awe at cherry blossoms during spring. And then another, of you holding an umbrella, your face lit up with laughter as the rain poured down.

You turn to Wonwoo, your heart racing. “What is this?”

He’s smiling, that soft, shy smile that always makes your knees a little weak. “Keep going,” he says, nodding toward the other wall.

You walk further into the room, and your chest tightens as you take in rows and rows of photos. All of you. Every angle, every expression, every moment he managed to capture. There’s one of you napping on a park bench, another of you squinting at a map, and one where you’re mid-bite into an enormous burger, ketchup smeared on your cheek.

You burst out laughing, tears pricking your eyes. “You didn’t!”

The walls of the gallery feel like they’re closing in as you walk further into the room, your gaze darting from photo to photo.

Each one is a piece of your life together—your smiles, your laughter, even your messy moments. You pause at a picture of you trying to eat an ice cream cone that’s melting faster than you can keep up with it. You remember that day vividly, how Wonwoo kept laughing and snapping pictures while you tried (and failed) to salvage the cone.

“Wonwoo,” you say softly, your voice trembling as the weight of it all settles over you. “You’ve been collecting these... all this time?”

“Every moment I could,” he says from behind you, his voice warm and quiet in the stillness of the room.

You move to the next photo. And then the next. They’re all you, and it’s overwhelming in the most beautiful way.

Then your eyes catch something different.

The very last photo on the wall.

It’s simple—a close-up shot of a ring nestled in a velvet box. The light glints off the delicate band, making it shimmer in a way that feels almost magical. Your breath catches in your throat as you take a step closer, your heart pounding in your chest.

“Is that—” you start, but the words die on your lips when you turn around.

Wonwoo is there, down on one knee in the middle of the gallery, holding that same velvet box in his hand. The air leaves your lungs as your gaze locks onto his, the vulnerability and love in his eyes almost too much to bear.

“It’s just us,” he says softly, as if he’s answering a question you didn’t ask. “No distractions, no one else. Just you and me.”

You cover your mouth with your hand, trying to hold back the tears threatening to spill over. He takes a deep breath, his voice steady but filled with emotion.

“I’ve spent so much of our time together trying to capture every moment, every expression, every laugh, because I never want to forget a single second with you. But the truth is, none of these photos come close to how I feel when I’m with you. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen—through my lens and in my life.”

He opens the box, revealing the ring that you’d just seen immortalized in the photo. It sparkles under the soft lights of the gallery, but nothing shines brighter than the love in his eyes as he looks up at you.

“I want this to be my last photo project,” he says with a small, shaky laugh. “Because after this, I just want to live the moments with you. Will you marry me?”

The world tilts and rights itself again as you nod furiously, your tears spilling over. “Yes! Yes, of course, I’ll marry you!”

Wonwoo grins—one of those rare, wide grins that you know he reserves for the moments when he can’t contain his joy. He slides the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle and sure, before standing and pulling you into his arms.

The silence of the gallery wraps around you both like a warm blanket. It’s just the two of you, the faint glow of the photos on the walls casting soft shadows.

You lean back to look at him, laughter bubbling up through your tears.

“You seriously used a picture of the ring for the big reveal?” you tease, your voice trembling with joy. “Couldn’t help yourself, huh?”

He chuckles, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s a story, isn’t it? And now it has the perfect ending.”

You rest your head against his chest, his heartbeat steady beneath your ear. “Not an ending,” you whisper. “The perfect beginning.”

And in that moment, surrounded by the story of your love etched in photographs, you know you wouldn’t want it any other way.

[greyeyedmonster-18]

jingle all the bidet

(a wolfstar holiday au.

happy christmas eve. this is simply nonsense. enjoy xoxo)

--

Remus practically ran to the front door once he heard the knock, socks sliding on the hardwood floors, sweater sleeves pushed up to his elbows though that wasn't particularly helpful. The cuffs were soaking, and the extra fabric drooped down to his forearms, small droplets splattering as he twisted the knob in a hurry, flinging the door of the house open.

"Hello, sir. I'm with Potter's Plumbing, we got a call about--"

"Yes! Yes! That's me," Remus said, gesturing wildly for the man to step through the doorway.

"I didn't finish--"

"As long as you're a plumber, I don't much care what call you were supposed to be on. You're here, you're helping me. Remus, hi, so nice to meet you--" 

"Sirius." Sirius seemed to get the hint, stepping into the house and Remus was able to firmly shut the door behind him, perhaps a little too forcefully.

"On a different day, I'd make a comment about our names and how we should join some sort of support group for parents with odd senses of humor but--" Remus didn't bother to look behind him as he walked quickly down the hallway, to see if Sirius was following him, just blindly hoping Sirius had these sort of emergency calls all the time. As a plumber does. No time for small talk and pleasantries and other superfluous information. 

Just quick. Down to business. Before a house flooded. Or maybe that was unique to Remus.

"Not today?" Sirius remarked from behind, a touch of laughter in his voice.

"Absolutely not today. You see, I'm in a bit of a plumbing crisis--on the Eve before Christmas Eve nonetheless. Festivus!-- so you can imagine my stress, I simply do not have the time to pencil in a good joke, because there are bigger issues at hand and I'm hoping you'll know exactly what to do, because I am at a loss and well....ta da!" Remus stopped just in front of the bathroom door, a weak smile on his face as he glanced between the mess of the master bathroom, and Sirius. 

It was a scene from a film.  Except instead of the bathroom being booby-trapped and finagled to catch robbers from killing him, Remus had made an entire crime scene attempting to install a bidet himself. 

How hard could it be?

Remus should’ve known when he was required to use a wrench that it would end poorly, but he had a modicum of faith, and a stubborn streak a mile long. 

There was an elbow-sized hole in the wall behind the toilet.

The tile flooded. Remus’s house slippers soggy on the bottom and cast aside outside the bathroom door. 

Remus had put a bucket behind the piping, but that didn’t catch much water at all when it all shot up like a geyser into the air, drops now falling from the ceiling. Remus had somehow managed to take down the shower curtain as well, and if he was brave enough later, he thought he might ask Sirius for help putting that back up. 

The top toilet cover had a handsome chip missing from it.

The toilet seat off its hinges.

And the bidet proudly on the floor.

Sirius tilted his head to the side slowly, surveying the scene wordlessly and inhaling deeply. Sirius took a pencil from out of his back pocket, scribbling a few notes on a notepad before turning to Remus and opening his mouth.

“We—”

“I know, I know. You’re probably wondering what the bloody hell happened,” Remus chuckled nervously, “And if I’m being honest, I’m wondering the same thing. I-I-I read the instructions before attempting to do this and I have always been a good student. A great one even!” Remus started and then stopped, “Okay, no, that was a lie. I’ve always been an okay student, but I know how to read. And in theory, I had it down pat. Flawlessly executed in my mind. But damn are toilet’s a lot harder to maneuver than the bloody instructions made it seem and one thing leads to another, I’m squatting down, elbow-deep in drywall. Literally,” Remus gestured to the hole behind the toilet, “I guess the only thing is I’m glad the water was clean and flushed and, and, well, you know what I mean don’t you?”

“I was going to say,” Sirius started, tongue poking out to wet his bottom lip, the corners of his mouth turning upward in amusement, “I hope you have another bathroom to use in the meantime.”

“Thank god we do.”

“Alright,” Sirius nodded, hitching up the knees of his jeans and squatting down to get a closer look at the damage. The band of his underwear poked over the top of his jeans. 

“A-alright, then. I’ll. Just..stay out of your hair and uh, let you get to work.”

“Sounds good.”

“Do you need anything? I think there’s a wrench down there somewhere,” Remus pointed to the broken ceramic behind the toilet.  Sirius stood back up and turned around to face Remus, who, at that moment, realized he was standing much too close, now standing nearly nose to nose with a stranger-plumber and he flushed. “Ah! Sorry, sorry, I’ll just—”

“I’ve got to get some supplies from my truck, but otherwise I should be all set. The beauty of calling a plumber is they take care of it for you, and you can just relax, Mr….?”

“Remus! No, I mean not Mr. Remus. Remus Lupin. Mr. Remus Lupin.”

“Alright, Mr. Remus Lupin, rest easy,” Sirius said, with a quick smirk, walking past Remus down the hallway again toward the front door. Remus felt like he was chasing after him Sirius’s stride was so long and certain. 

“No, I mean, you don’t need to call me Mr. Remus Lupin. Or Mr. at all. It’s just Remus.” Sirius nodded again and exited the house. 

--

Remus wasn’t sure what he was supposed to do while a maintenance person was in his home. He recalled vaguely as a child hiding in his room until they left, pretending he did not exist--there were absolutely no children in this home, and if there were they certainly were not present at the time they were there, no sir! And typically, Gideon was the one who handled service requests. Remus making it a point to be uncharacteristically busy the moment something needed a repair. A light not working? Suddenly Remus needed to leave and return a package that had been sitting there for two weeks already. But Gideon was away, finishing up work for the holiday season, which was the perfect time for Remus to surprise him with a gift. 

A shame it ended in absolute disaster.

And now Remus didn’t know what to do.

With his hands, with his time, with his anything. And opted to pace back and forth down the hallway as Sirius started working in the bathroom. 

“Hello!” Remus poked his head into the bathroom, hands on the door frame. “Just checking in.”

“Checked,” Sirius told him, not moving from his position on the floor of the bathroom. Sirius’s work boots were damp on the bottom, uniform shirt rolled up to his elbows, and the long curly hair that had previously been down and dusting the man's shoulders, pulled up and out of the way. 

“Can I get you anything? Water, or a snack, surely you must be hungry or--”

“I’m all set, Remus.”

“Or, maybe I could--”

Sirius cleared his throat and sat up to look at Remus, elbows resting on the top of his knees, “Though I know it perhaps feels odd, as usually, I assume, when you have guests over, you entertain them in some capacity. But in this situation, it is quite okay to ignore me.”

“I…people really just ignore you?”

“Most of the time. Spare a few odd moments of chatter, but I believe you said this was an emergency and there simply wasn’t time for that today.”

“Well you don’t seem too concerned about all this.”

“I’ve seen so much worse.”

“That’s comforting. Perhaps I could make time for a joke or two then.”

“Let’s hear it.”

“Oh, uhm,” Remus’s eyes went wide, “I-I didn’t mean an actual joke, I don’t think I have any of those, though I really should. I’m a teacher, you see. Kids love jokes, but I think most of the time, I’m the joke and don’t necessarily need to come up with something with a punchline. So, I might be fresh out, but if you give me an hour I could look one up.”

“Why did the Christmas tree go to the barber?”

“What?”

“Why did the Christmas tree go to the doctor?” Sirius repeated, soft smile on his face as he waited Remus to answer.

“Uh…I dunno. Why?”

“It was looking a little green,” Sirius finished, slapping the top of his knee for effect and Remus snorted.

“That was pretty good.”

“My godson is seven and is in his joke telling phase. I had to find a few of my own. You know, just to make sure I didn’t lose the cool godfather credibility.”

“Of course,” Remus said, and nodded, “Sorry…I’ll let you work.”

“If you would prefer…you don’t have to ignore me.”

“Really?” Remus asked, but was already inside the bathroom yet again, “Because I am winded walking up and down that hallway, between this botched installation and the pacing and the everything, this is the highest my heart rate has been in years. I promise, you won’t even know I’m here.” Remus took a seat on the edge of the bathtub letting out a sigh of relief as Sirius lowered himself to the floor once again.

--

It turns out, it was probably a good thing that Remus had never been home previously when a repair person had entered, because he could not simply pretend to not be there any longer. He was there. And Remus did not do well with silence.

“....so anyway, when we moved in, and I think Gideon--my partner, did I say that already? Oh, I did, I know I did-- wants to repaint the walls next year, to add some life into the place. But I dunno, I think it’s pretty lively. Do you think so? You go in a lot of homes, don’t you?”

“I do.”

“And does mine, breathe life?”

“The snowflake hand towels are a nice touch,” Sirius commented, as he twisted something on the side of the toilet. 

“That's what I thought! Why do we need to paint and redo everything, when we can…spruce it up, with towels and…other decorations? Other..less permanent things,” Remus finished and Sirius hummed. “Not that I know much, or anything really, about designing and homes. This is my first one. Well, after the one I lived in before, but there isn’t exactly a book about how to…home. You know?”

“I get what you mean,” Sirius confirmed, “Are you French?”

“Pardon?”

“The bidet,” Sirius said from his position on the bathroom floor, back on the ground and doing something to the piping. The number of tools Sirius had brought with him was evidence enough that Remus had no business installing the bidet in the first place, the wrench he had sworn would be enough Sirius hadn’t even touched. Though he probably had nicer wrenches. Fancier wrenches. Did wrenches have levels of class? Just as well Remus would use a poor man's wrench.

“Uh. No, no, I’m not French. Not really. Sort of? My father is. Or…was. Is? He died, so he’s not…currently French and walking around saying Bonjour, or mon petit chou anymore, not that…that wasn’t all he said but he is French but just French as in dead in a cemetery. But his body-you know what I mean, don’t you? Anyway, he was—is—French, I am not. Well not, not. I grew up in Wales with my Mum. We barely had plumbing, sometimes we just went out back and dug a hole in the ground! Never had this problem with holes, I’ll tell you that much, no, no problems like this,” Remus trailed off and Sirius made another hum of acknowledgement as he worked, “Sorry. I shouldn’t have brought that up. People get weird when I do. Like oh, I’m so sorry for your loss, and I can’t say, It’s fine I barely knew him! Without sounding like a complete arsehole so, I usually just make it weird and awkward and uh…well, you have a front-row seat to that,” Remus said, slapping his hands on his thighs, the thwack against his jeans echoing through the bathroom.

“You’re not an arsehole.”

“You don’t know me that well.”

“You’re not an arsehole for not knowing your parent,” Sirius clarified. “Wales is nice.”

“It is. It was.”

“So you’re not French, why the bidet?”

Remus sighed standing up from the ledge of the tub, pacing the floor for the bathroom as he spoke, "Well, you see, I got it as a gift for my partner. Gideon, remember? They're away on business, and I told myself this was the perfect time to get ahead on Christmas shopping. If you knew me...which you don't, not really, but maybe by the end of this whole mess we'll be fast friends! I already told you about my dead Dad, and that's usually something I hold off on…it’s a bit of a downer. Anyway, if you knew me..know me, I'm terrible at planning ahead. I mean, who wants to go to the shops during the hols? Nobody. I don't care how much you love your mother--and I love mine, I promise I do, really--all the people running around, it's just too much. So I put it off and put it off, and suddenly it's Christmas Eve and--"

"That's about the worst time to go..." Sirius said, shifting his position so he was crouching instead, lifting the toilet seat off in one smooth piece.

"Precisely, so sometimes I don't even bother going at all, which I suppose might make me a bad person. I'm not! Occasionally an arsehole, but not a bad person! I recycle and, and, and I’m a good friend, I-I-I just...planning and gifts and the whole bit of it...isn't my strongest suit,” Remus said. “So I was so proud of myself! Because Gideon had mentioned wanting a bidet for the bathroom, the breathing life and the personal touches and all that--”

“I’m noticing a theme…”

“Yes! Life, carpe fucking diem! So he mentioned it, and I remembered--which is another thing I am not the greatest at-- and I went out and bought the bidet! Hid it in my office at work for a month knowing he’d be out of town today, and it would be the perfect opportunity to install it. He’d come back from his trip, go to the bath to wash up and he would be overjoyed, elated, delighted even, to see the bidet there, and I would be there shouting Happy Christmas! and for once feel like I really nailed the Christmas gift. Because the thing is, he is so thoughtful and so good at gift giving, and I…just come up short. And I thought not this year! But instead of coming home to a beautifully installed bidet, he’ll come home to…a plumbing bill and peeling up linoleum tile and a patched up hole and…a shower curtain. And-and- who knows if he’ll even like it! He’ll probably hate it.”

“Why would he hate it?”

“He never usually likes my gifts.”

“Who…doesn’t just say thank you for a gift?” Sirius asked, pausing his work to look at Remus. “That’s kind of the rule isn’t it? Even if it's an itchy sweater, or something you don’t particularly like, you say thank you and then later return it and pretend it didn’t fit. It’s not about the gift.”

“Well, I don’t know if there’s rules exactly,” Remus countered, his eyebrows furrowing as he thought of birthdays and holidays gone by where Gideon had remarked "oh, this isn’t exactly what i wanted, or you tried, Re in response to Remus’s efforts. 

“Secret rules, as my godson would say.”

“I mean, sure, there’s secret…rules, I guess, but remember? were you not listening to the whole bad at gift giving part?”

“I listened. Were you gifting rotten eggs?”

“Well no. It’s just that, he, and-and-I we’re just never on the same page, and his gifts are--and well, mine are--”

“Ah.”

“And, and, and who the fuck gets their partner a bidet for Christmas?”

“Well…maybe someone who has a partner who asked for one?” Sirius said, smirking a little before getting back to his work.

“Well you’re a bit arrogant, aren’t you?”

“Or just…right.”

“No. Because he didn’t explicitly ask for one he more mentioned it in passing…he’s mentioned  countless things in passing, why not just by one of those and not a major home renovation…this was a terrible idea. This was stupid! Why didn’t you tell me that? Going on about the gift rules and secrets, and the real issue here is that this was a bad idea!”

“I’m in the business of fixing up baths, not sharing my opinions on Christmas gifts.”

“Except you just did.”

“Very unprofessional of me, I admit.”

Remus said, stopping his pacing to run a hand over his face, “This is very unprofessional of me. Arguing with my plumber! About presents. And, it’s my fault, really. I should’ve told you in the call! That’s what I should’ve done, straight out the gate, just let you know the real situation, and I should’ve said that I bought this stupid bidet, and made a mess of my bathroom, and a million other wrong things--”

Sirius grabbed the bidet from the floor and placed it on top of the toilet. Pieces falling perfectly into place. 

“It’s not a bad gift,” Sirius told him, “Odd perhaps, but thoughtful. Plumbers honor.”

“Really…?”

“Really.”

“You’re right!” Remus said, and as Sirius made some final adjustments before pressing a button on the bidet. A jingle played.

“And, for what it's worth, you bought a good bidet. Nicer bidets tend to be more finicky to install so…really, this mess showcases heaps of effort.”

“Thank you!” Remus responded, somewhat indignantly, throwing his arms into the air. Someone understood. 

“That’s exactly what he should say. Your partner. When he walks into this room and notices--”

“The bidet.”

“The spectacular bidet.”

“What…if he doesn’t?” Remus asked quietly after a long silence, two men standing and admiring the bidet sitting proudly on a toilet with a broken top, singing its little song to prove it was functioning. 

“Would you like my professional opinion?”

“...Yes.”

“If he doesn’t say thank you and kiss you full on the mouth for this very thoughtful gift…then at least you can enjoy this bidet and you throw a massive party with all of your friends and tell them to use this bathroom.” Remus snorted, thinking about walking guests into the master bedroom and bathroom during a party--coworkers and neighbors and friends, stepping on the carpet in their shoes just to get to the bidet. 

“What’s your unprofessional one?”

“Find someone who will say thank you.”

“So I should find a liar.”

“Thank you for thinking of me, and thank you for the effort it took to find this gift, isn’t a lie in my book. It’s not about the bidet.”

“It could be.”

“Yeah but it's not.”

“But it is, kind of.”

“No.”

Remus opened his mouth and closed it again, unsure of what to say, Sirius grinning smugly at Remus, daring him to disagree again. This man might have had the same stubborn streak Remus had. His stomach fluttered for a moment, almost laughing, almost joyful at the silly, naive thought of spending a lifetime with a man, this man, who argued without the malice behind the words. 

“It’s not that simple anyway,” Remus said, “Just…leaving.”

“Never said it was, but either way…this is yours,” Sirius gestured to the bidet, “And someone should use it.

--

It had only been a few hours, but the bathroom looked good as new. Bidet installed, hole patched up and water was mopped up. The only sign that something had gone awry was the toilet top with the chunk missing. 

“We’ll have to get you a new one,” Sirius told him, writing up the invoice as they walked to Remus’s front door, toolbox in hand

“Will that take weeks?” 

“No, a few days just because of the holidays. I’ll bring it by the 26th, and it’ll be all set.”

“You are truly a life saver, I don’t know what I would’ve done, and….thanks for listening to me talk…all day. I know you probably didn’t sign up for that exactly when you took this call, and probably had better things to be doing, and--”

“This was one of the more enjoyable calls I’ve had actually,” Sirius told him, pausing in front of the front door. “I had a good time.”

Remus laughed awkwardly, reaching for the doorknob to open the door for Sirius, “This feels like the end of some sort of date…do you want me to walk you to your car?”

“Very kind, but I promise I’ll make it.” Sirius nodded, sticking out his hand. Definitely not a date. “Pleasure working with you Mr. Lupin.”

“Remus.”

“Remus,” Sirius said, “I’ll see you in a few days. My numbers on the invoice, should anything come up before then. Just…call.”

--

Christmas music was playing loudly in his living room, Sirius’s godson testing out his new dance moves learned at school on the rug, his best friends clapping along and joining in with their own dance moves alongside their child. Sirius had just pulled the roast chicken out of the oven--the shining star for the Christmas Eve feast-- when the phone rang. Oven mitts still on, he hurried to grab the land line, tossing a stray curl out of his face as he answered.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Potter’s Plumbing?” the voice on the other end said and Sirius couldn’t help but bite back a smile. He had been in Remus’s home for only a few hours, but had heard the other man talk enough that Sirius was certain he’d be able to identify who was speaking with his eyes closed. It was refreshing. Sirius returned home that day and recounted the emergency call to his best friend, leaving out no details about the frazzled, freckled, and messy man who attempted to install a bidet. 

You put your personal number on the invoice? Sirius, that’s too bold.

Sirius was thinking he wouldn’t call.

He hadn’t expected any bidet related emergencies.

“This is Sirius Black,” Sirius said, “But I am part of Potter’s Plumbing.”

“Oh, good, Sirius, it’s you. Hello, it’s Remus Lupin, remember, you serviced my bidet a few days ago and there's a toilet top that needs to be repaired, and we hung up a shower curtain together and I almost fell to my death off the bathtub ledge?”

“Ah yes,” Sirius teased, “Thanks for those details to jog my memory, without them I would’ve definitely forgotten. Did you run into some trouble?”

“Uh…No.”

“Oh…then, how can I help you, Mr. Lupin?”

“Remus.”

“Remus.”

“I…” Sirius heard Remus click his tongue a few times, “I…decided to…not…I mean, I don’t need a new toilet top. Can I cancel that? I think it looks better this way.”

“With the missing part?” Sirius asked, feeling a touch disappointed at the nature of the call.

“Yeah.”

“I’ll go ahead and cancel that for you, Remus. No problem at all. Was that it?”

“No,” Remus said and paused again, “I’m having a sort of party.”

“Sort of?”

“A party, on New Year's Eve. I decided. To celebrate the new year and new beginnings and all that, glad tidings, you know, the things people usually celebrate. And…also to celebrate the bidet that's in the bathroom because I’ve been told it's a good bidet, like a nice one even! A professional told me that, and it…uh should be appreciated by someone. So I'm having a party and I’m wondering if…you like bidets?”

“Did I not tell you I’m French? I love bidets.”

[h-ngm-nssluttt]

Have Yourself A Merry Owen's Christmas

When Tyler finally decides to make this a Christmas to remember by finally admitting to his childhood best friend that she's the love of his life

Every year when storm season is pretty much over for the year I find myself full of excitement to head back home. Christmas in Arkansas is like no other. My folks run the Christmas Tree Farm and I help out while I'm home for a few weeks. The Christmas Tree Farm was my favorite place to be growing up. My best friend Y/N and i would spend hours playing hide and seek in the rows and rows of trees in the summer. Every Christmas season in highschool she would work the register while I cut and loaded trees. The perks of having your best friend live right next door, you could do literally everything together. If she wasn’t at our house i was at hers. We were constantly getting into trouble together and always going on adventures.

The true blessing of having your best friend live right next door to you is that eventually she becomes the love of your life. Now you would think that i would have jumped at the opportunity to make her my girl. The overly confident and cocky Tyler Owens would have swept her off her feet… but it was the opposite.. As much as I wanted to make her mine, I can't risk losing her if she doesn’t feel the same way. My life is full of adventure and living life by the seat of my pants not knowing what’s going to happen each and every day but she is the one and only constant thing in my life. 

I turned down the gravel path that leads to my family's farm and Y/N’s place. I make a split decision and turn right at the fork in the road as I head down the driveway as I see the all too familiar farm house come into view. I park my truck as I make my way to the front door. The porch creaked as I opened the screen door and racked my knuckles against the wooden door. The faint sound of Y/N’s voice came from the other side letting me know to come in.

I open the door and the all too familiar smell of apple pie and vanilla and caramel fill my nose. The applepie being one of the candles she always burns but the vanilla and caramel the unmistakable smell of Y/N. 

I kick my boots off at the door and make my way to the living room as my eyes take in the sight before me. Boxes all over the floor, decorations and ornaments everywhere. My eyes shift to the tree in front of the living room window noting that it’s a bigger tree than you would normally have and then I see you sitting aside of it with your back turned towards me as you sit there tangled in Christmas lights.

“Wow.. i see you went bigger this year” I make my way around the various boxes on the floor as i stand next to you as i look down at you smiling

“Ty! I didn’t know you were home”

I let out a small chuckle as I reach down and take a tangled string of lights into my hand

“Yeah.. I just got home. Sorry I didn't give you a heads up.. But i could hear you struggling from the driveway”

Y/N let out a laugh as she stood up and looked at me and rolled her eyes playfully

“Sure you did… it had nothing to do with wanting to see your best friend at all”

“Well of course it has to do with wanting to see my best friend. I just didn’t think you were gonna struggle THAT badly with these lights”

I watch as you glance around the mess covering the living room and let out a sigh

“It’s just been different… I’m used to having my moms help. I didn’t realize how hard it was to get everything set up by myself. I honestly thought about putting it all back. Only reason i even have a tree is because your mom made your dad bring me one”

My mom had mentioned that she made my dad bring you a tree. She knew you were trying to avoid the holidays. She had convinced you to spend Christmas Eve and Christmas day with us at the house instead of going to work to pick up extra shifts like you had planned to. I knew the holidays were going to be difficult for you this year and that’s honestly the main reason I made sure to come home a little early this year. I take another look at everything scattered about

“I know Y/n… It’s the first holiday without her, I can't imagine how much harder it makes things like this. But I’m here now and I'll help you as best as I can. My mom said she was going to stop over here soon to help as well. Something about bringing cookies and stuff” 

you look up at me and give me a small smile “Well the more the merrier… and we both know i can never turn down your moms cookies so…”

I let out a laugh as a comfortable silence fell between the two of us as we finished untangling all of the lights. 

“Alright.. That should do it… now for the fun part hanging them up…Come on get up here”

I smiled as I squatted down so you could get onto my shoulders. I knew better than to do the lights because you would be picky. A laugh falls from your lips as you get onto my shoulders as I stand up as my hands hold onto your legs as you begin to put the lights on the top of the tree. The music in the background was the only sound filling the room besides the rustling of the tree limbs as the lights were placed onto them. I found myself swaying to the music, mostly on purpose to tease you as you attempted to put the lights on

“TY! You gotta stand still” 

I tilted my head up as i looked as you as you looked down at me and let out a laugh

“But it’s not as fun when I have to stand still” you laughed as I continued to shift from side to side even more as you worked on the lights.

“My lights are going to be crooked”

“Oh they’ll be fine… A little crookedness adds some character”

“My tree will have a touch of the Tyler Owens effect huh?”

I smile as i give your legs a slight squeeze 

“Exactly” 

I watch as you tuck a few more of the lights into the top of the tree as you looks it over

“Okay.. i think the lights are done”

I smile and carefully lower you to the floor as I stand next to you as I admire the tree. 

“You were right, the lights are a little crooked, but they look pretty good. I’d say the tyler owens effect helped with the lights than anything else”

My comment was met with a playful elbow to my ribs as you let out a laugh.

“Yeah yeah.. Now start hanging some ornaments Cowboy”

I smile as I grab the closest box of ornaments as i let the blush on my cheeks subside before looking back at the tree

“Yes Ma'am”

A comfortable silence fell between the two of us as the Christmas music played softly as we hung the ornaments on the tree. I couldn’t help but glance over at Y/N as she would tilt her head and decide if an ornament would look good in that spot on the tree or as she would faintly hum along to the song playing. The second i saw you stand on your tiptoes to try and reach the top of the tree i immediately stepped behind you as i placed my one hand on your hip as my chest rested against your back and my other hand took the ornament from your outstretched hand and placed in at the top of the tree. A smile crosses my face as I feel your head lean back against my chest as I fight to keep my heart rate normal.

“See this is why i keep you around”

I let out a laugh as i gently pull away from you 

“Oh so you only keep me around for my height.. Very shallow Y/N.. Very Shallow”

your laugh filled the room as you tossed an ornament as me teasingly as i managed to catch it

“Hey every short girl needs a tall best friend”

I roll my eyes playfully as i hang the ornament onto the tree

“I guess you’re right. Who else would hang these for you”

I couldn’t help but find myself looking at you again as you went back to the tree. The way your eyes shined from the lights on the tree, the way your hair was framing your face. I quickly shook myself out of it as I continued to decorate the tree.

After finishing the tree and decorating the rest of the living room, my mom had kept to her word and dropped off some cookies for you. We found ourselves on the couch, beers in hand as we sat there in silence as we admired the tree.

“I think we did a pretty good job”

I smiled as i felt your head lean against my shoulder as i wrap my arm around your shoulder pulling you a little closer as i looked down at you and in that moment i realized i couldn’t deny it anymore.. I was falling in love with you… and badly… 

“I think you’re right.. This tree looks perfect”

“Thank you.. For today… i think if you wouldn’t have stopped by i wouldn't have put anything up”

I snapped back to reality after zoning out for a few moments when I heard you thanking me.

“Of course… i would have felt like a horrible best friend if i didn't come to check on you  on your first christmas without your mom”

‘And on my first christmas realizing i’m completely in love with you’

“I don’t know what i’d do without you Ty”

I rubbed your arm subconsciously as I pulled you a little closer. God do I love having you this close.

“You’d probably still be tying yourself up in christmas lights”

Your laughter filled the room again 

“Hmmm you’re probably right”

I let out a laugh as I looked down at you. The longer we sat here I really couldn’t take it any longer. You were so close… and fuck im so in love with you.. I gently pulled you onto my lap as my arms wrapped around your waist as i looked into your eyes and take in your shocked expression as i mumble under my breath

“God I'm gonna regret this…”

“Regret what?”

I look into your eyes once more before I speak quietly

“This..”

Before I lean in and close the distance between us as I bring my lips to yours as I kiss you passionately. I notice that your breath catches in surprise before a sigh leaves your lips as your hands rest on the sides of my neck sending a shiver down my spine and the feeling of your hands on me. A small quiet moan leaves my lips as you kiss me back as I tighten my grip on your hips. God, I had been dreaming of this happening for god only knows how long. I gently push you onto your back on the couch as our lips continue their passionate dance together. 

I felt your hands tangle in the hair at the of my neck drawing another quiet moan from me as I started to kiss down your jaw to your neck as I slid my hand under the hem of your shirt as my hand gently caressed the skin on your hips.

“Mmmm Ty…. Baby….” 

A shiver goes down my spine as I hear you call me ‘baby’ for the first time and it took everything in me to just not completely lose it right here on the couch. My hands roaming your skin under your shirt as I nip at the sensitive skin on your neck making your breathing increase making me impossibly hard. My voice betrays me and comes out in a whimper against your neck

“I need you…”

The sound of your shaky breath reaches my ears as your fingers run down the buttons on my flannel

“I need you too”

God hearing you say you needed me too was about to send me into a spiral. I lean back for a moment to look at you, a moment of clarity in my lust filled hazy mind as i bring one of my hands up to caress your cheek

“Are you sure…? I need to know you want this”

“I want this…. I want this Ty…”

Any restraint I had after hearing you say that was completely gone. I quickly removed my Flannel and tossed it onto the floor as my eyes roam over your body taking in every inch of you as i started to slowly remove your shirt as i leaned down and placed soft kisses to your now exposed chest

“God you’re so beautiful… I need you so badly… i love you so much”

I could feel your heart pounding in your chest as i placed another soft kiss to your exposed chest as your shaky voice speaks up

“I… I love you too”

I slowly lifted my head up to look down at you as I took a second to process the fact that you were saying the words I had been wanting to hear for so long it made me feel weak inside. I smiled down at you as if you had hung the stars in the sky as i run my thumb along your jaw

“Do you want to take this to the bedroom?”

I smile as I see you gently nod your head yes as you look up at me with those beautiful blue eyes that I love so much. I wrap my arms under you and pick you up holding you against my chest as I carry you up the stairs and to your bedroom. Once we reach your room i gently lay you down on the bed as i lean over you, my hands on either side of your head

“You don’t know how badly i’ve wanted this… how many times i've dreamt about being with you like this..”

“Well i hope it’s better than the dreams Ty..”

I let out a low chuckle as i slowly start to kiss down your chest and my hands go back to roaming your sides and hips reveling in the feeling of your bare skin under my hands as i speak against your skin gently as i take one of your bra straps between my teeth and slowly pull it down

“Oh it’s going to be so much better”

I can feel your breathing get faster as your chest and cheeks turn red

“Mmm i’d be lying if i said i haven't dreamed of this either”

I gently finish pushing your bra straps down your arms pulling the piece of lacy fabric off of you and tossing it across the room. My eyes roam over your now bare chest below me as i speak in a soft voice

“I know i already said it but god, you are beautiful Y/N… and i really want to make love to you”

“I really want you to as well”

I slowly let my hand trail down your body as I reach down and unbutton your jeans and quickly remove them and toss them to the side as I work on removing my jeans as well. “I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life. I’ve never wanted anything more than i want you” 

“Me too Ty..”

I look down at you and take a moment to admire you taking in how beautiful you look under me

“You are absolutely gorgeous… and i am so unbelievably in love with you, darling”

“And I'm so unbelievably in love with you too.. Have been for years”

I smile as my hands caress your sides and hips like they are worshipping your body as I lean down and kiss you again as my hands gently pull your legs around my hips as I press myself against you. I pull back from the kiss and rest my forehead against yours as my voice comes out soft 

“Are you ready darling?”

I feel your hands wrap around my bare shoulders as you look into my eyes

“Ready”

I smile as I carefully position myself at your entrance. I swear when i looked down at you in this moment my heart felt like it was going to burst out of my chest

“I love you..” “I love you too Ty”

I smiled at your words as I gently pushed myself into you and immediately a soft moan escaped my lips as I kept my eyes on you. I honestly felt like I could cry at this moment. I love you so much and having you right here, under me like this was something I never thought I would get to experience. My forehead rests against yours as my hips set a slow and steady rhythm my voice shaky

“God Y/N…”

You reach your hand up and lace our fingers together on the bed as i watch your eyes flutter closed and the moans leaving your lips as my cock fills you up

“Oh god baby.. You feel so good” 

I moan as my hips continue their steady pace as my head tips back as the pleasure courses through my body. The sound of your moans driving me crazy as you mumble out a few words as your eyes flutter closed

“Mmm so good”

The way you were holding on to me and the sounds you were making were driving me closer and closer to the edge as I picked up my pace and pulled your leg tighter against me needing to feel more of you. I unlace our hands as i bring my hand down and pull your chin back so i could look at you, needing to see you in this moment

“Look at me darling… i want to see your face”

The look in your eyes and the breathless moans falling from your lips were borderline pornographic and I needed to hear more. Your voice sounding shaky as you speak out between moans

“Mmmm i love you i love you i love you”

I smiled the second your eyes connected with mine as I felt a new wave of emotions rush through me. I leaned down and kissed you as i continued to move my hips against you, the way you were looking at me and the words that fell from your lips were pushing me closer and closer to the edge

“I love you so much… I've never felt like this before… i”

I was cut off by a moan that I couldn't hold back. Between the way I felt for you and the fact that it was you that I was doing this with was completely overwhelming me. I picked up my pace slightly the need to be close to you and make you feel good becoming stronger 

“Darling… Sweetheart… I-i’m going to-”

“Mmmm I’m gonna cum Ty…”

I thrust my hips harder into yours as those words left your lips as i kept my eyes on yours as my breathing becomes heavy and shaky

“Cum for me darling.. I want to see how beautiful you look when you do”

Your grip on my shoulder tightens as I feel your legs begin to shake as they wrap around my waist tighter as your orgasm washes over you. Moan after moan leaving your lips as your head tips back against the mattress and your body arches off the bed. Between your sounds and the way you looked as you came around my cock was too much for me. I thrust my hips once more  as i began to cum as a moan left my lips as i ride out my high 

“God… oh god…you’re so beautiful… I love you so much…”

I watched as your chest rose and fell quickly as your cheeks flush as the pleasure washes over the two of us. Once we both came down i slowly collapse onto the bed next to you as i gently wrap my arms around you and rest my head against your chest as i tried to catch my breath and listened to the sound of your heartbeat as my voice comes out mumbled

“That.. was perfect…”

I sigh in content as I feel your fingers run through my hair in a soothing motion as my body begins to relax. Your soft voice filling the room

“Stay the night?”

I close my eyes as i lean into your touch, the feeling of you running your hand through my hair putting me into and even more blissed out state as i mumbled against your skin as i place a few gently kisses to your chest

“I wasn’t planning on leaving”

A comfortable silence fell between us as your movements continued 

“Ty..” 

I gently caressed your hip with my hand as i mumbled against your skin sleepily

“Hmmm?”

“What does this mean for us now?”

I lift my head up slightly, resting my chin against your chest as I look at you. My smile softened as i gently reached my hand up to caress your cheek as i spoke quietly

“It means I'm yours, Darlin. I’ve been yours for a long, long time. I love you”

“I love you too… and I've been yours for a long time too whether you knew it or not.. It’s always been you Ty..”

I smiled as I heard you say that you have been mine for a while. I push myself up so I can properly hover over you as I look down at you lovingly.

“My turn to ask a question”

“Okay”

I smile as my eyes roam over your face as i gently tuck a piece of hair behind your ear

“Now that we know how we feel, and we both know that this is what we want… will you be my girlfriend?”

“I’d love to finally be your girlfriend Ty..”

I smile widely as i lean down and place a soft kiss to your lips before gently placing kisses all over your face as i spoke between kisses

“I love you…i love you.. I love you”

My heart skipped a beat as I heard you let out a giggle as I planted kisses all over your face as you mumbled out that you loved me too. I planted one final kiss to your lips before I laid down onto my back and pulled you over so you were laying on my chest as I held onto you not wanting to let go for a single second. Your head on my chest, your legs tangled with mine had me feeling like I was in a dream. I smiled once more before kissing the top of your head and pulling the blanket up over the two of us as we both drifted off to sleep in eachothers arms. 

I felt the warmth of the sun shining through the curtains as I slowly opened my eyes, taking a second to orient myself as I realized where I was and when I did my mind instantly went back to the memory’s of the night before. I looked down at you still sleeping against my chest as a smile crossed my face. I honestly think this is the happiest I have ever been. Getting to wake up next to the woman that I have been in love with for so long was a great feeling. I gently ran my hand up and down your side to gently try and wake you up. I smile as you tilt your head on my shoulder as you look up at me and give me a tired smile. I ran my fingers through your hair as I tucked a few loose strands behind your ear.

“Good Morning beautiful”

“Mmm Morning Handsome”

I let out a soft chuckle as I continued to run my fingers gently through your hair as your eyes flutter closed again. 

“I can get used to waking up next to you”

“Me too.. I think that’s the best i’ve ever slept”

I smile as i gently pull you closer to me as i mumble into your hair

“I know this is gonna sound cheesy, but last night.. With you, was the best night of my life”

“Me too Ty” 

Hearing you say last night was the best night of your life as well sent a new wave of happiness and reassurance through me. I placed a gentle kiss to your temple as i return my hand to your side as i gently ran my fingers up and down your skin

“Darlin, can I ask you something?

“Of course”

I look down at you admiring how you looked snuggled up against me as you shimmied yourself even closer to me

“Where do you think we will go from here? I mean, we’re officially together, we know how we feel.. But I was wondering.. Where you saw us in 5,10 years, Like… I'm sure it’s still too early to talk about that stuff, but I can't help wanting to plan forever with you.. I’ve waited too long for this.. For you..”

“Well if you were asking 15 year old me… id be hoping we’d be getting married, buying a house and having babies”

I let out a laugh as you said that finding it kind of adorable that you had dreamed of this with me when you were 15.

“Oh yeah?”

I moved around so i was hovering above you as i looked down at you with nothing but pure love in my eyes

“And what about the you now? What does she want?”

I smile as you look up at me and gently brush some of my hair back from my forehead as you bring your hand down to rest on my cheek as you look at me like i hung the moon in the sky

“I want the same things as a 15 year old me… the house.. Getting married.. The babies.. Maybe throw in a dog or two in there..” 

I practically melted on the spot. Hearing that you still wanted all of those things with me filled me with both happiness and nervousness

“A house, a wedding, babies and some dogs huh? That’s a pretty big list darlin.. Anything else missy?”

“Nothing else.. Just as long as I have you… ohhhh and maybe a few horses though.. That would be kinda nice too”

My smile grew the more you listed off

“Oh of course, a couple horses, how could I forget… you think we’ll fit all that in one place?”

You look up at me with a smile on your face as your response to my questions comes out confidently

“Well why don’t we just live here? The house is mine now, and it’s got plenty of farm land to go with it… plus it’s right down the road from your parents”

“Live here? In this house? We could actually have room for the horses, the dogs…”

I pause for a second as i look down at you

“And the babies….”

“And the babies”

I smile as I gently press my forehead against yours as the idea of raising a family together with you in the same house I've known for so long makes me happier than I thought it would.

“I think I could get used to that, spending my life with you, building a family in this house that we’ve known forever.. It almost seems perfect”

“Any life with you would be perfect Ty..”

I close the gap between us as i kiss you lightly on the lips as i whisper against them

“Then it’s settled. Our plans for the future, for the rest of our lives… House with horses, and puppies, a wedding babies… and love, lots and lots of love”

“Lots of love”

I lean down and gently place a kiss to your neck as i speak between each kiss

“DO i get to pick the number of those babies, or are you going to be in charge of that?”

“Mmm that depends… how many are we talking about”

I chuckle against your skin at your questions as i move my lips as i nip at your skin leaving a small mark as i speak back

“Hmmm, does 3 sound good to you?”

“Mmmm how about 4”

I let out a groan against your skin, liking your idea of 4 better than 3 and the fact that you were willing to have that many kids with me… my kids…

“4 sounds wonderful darling”

I gently kiss down your neck as i nip at the sensitive spot as your hands gently tangled into my hair

“Mmm but no babies until i get a ring and your last name first” 

I hummed against your skin as my hands started to wander across your body as they moved lower as i whispered against your neck

“You’re right. And i plan to put a ring on your finger as soon as i can, i want to make you mine for real, but…”

I begin to slowly kiss down your chest as a small moan falls from your lips

“...that doesn’t mean we can’t practice making those babies….” 

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I hope ya'll enjoyed this... I am slowly trying to get back into writing. SOrry if it's not the best but i'm trying!

[nickgurl4life]

✦PAGES✦ chapter one

Pairings: nerd!matt x popular!reader

CW: for this chapter is just fluff, just their first time talking, but tutoring and soft flirting are in here if you care :)

Summary: popular!reader asks nerd!matt for tutoring lessons and when she arrives at his house for the lessons, she's a bit more flirty and open, what will happen between the two?

Announcement: This is my first ever series! So I really hope you guys will enjoy it :)

CHAPTER 2

He was in awe, straight up ogling over you. But he knows he doesn't have a chance. You're the prettiest, sweetest, most popular girl in school, and he's, well, him. He watches from his spot at the lunch table, and you perched on top of the seat by the "popular" seats as they all call it. You chat away with friends, and he almost squeals as you lock eyes with him. His face flushes red at the sight of your gorgeous eyes meeting his ice blue orbs. When he looks up to check if your still looking, he blushes more as he sees you still looking, raising a hand, he waves shyly then looks down immediately as you reciprocate it. He hears your voice faintly then notices you start to approach. He starts to mentally curse himself and forces a smile when you mutter a soft, sweet hello. "Hey- uh...can I, can I help you?" He asks softly and you chuckle. "May I sit?" You question as you gesture to the empty seat next to him.

"U-uhm-" he nods as he scoots to offer a bit of extra space. He watches as you sit down, the small expand in your thighs, the tiny arch in your back, the way your backside expa- "Hey? You with me?" You ask with a soft chuckle as his face floods with redness as you mention his zoned out expression. "Yeah- sorry uh....if I may ask, why did you wanna sit with me?" He inquires with a tilt of his head. "Oh! Right I was wondering if you could tutor me in math. My grade is low and I'm struggling bad-" You retort with soft flushed cheeks. He smiles, finding your small bit of embarrassment cute. "Yeah, if your fine doing it at my house cause I usually do better in my own homely environment" he replys with a nod as you nod as well. "Okay, meet me in the school parking lot and I can drive you to my house..." he says softly and you nod, getting up and returning to your original table. God he can't wait till schools over now.

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It was last period, and as soon as the ball rang, signaling schools ended. He grabbed his books and papers, darting out the classroom to his locker. He places his stuff in his locker in an organized manner, slipping his bag over his arm and walking out of the building towards his car where he sees you, sat on the bench on the sidewalk near the parking lot. "Hey!" He says with a high wave to signal him. He chuckles at your reaction, a small gasp but a smile growing as you jog over. "Okay, you ready?" He questions, and when you nod, he leads you to his car, casually opening the door for you without thinking. When you sat inside his vehicle, he shut the door and round the car to get into the driver's seat. His hand inserts the key into the ignition, turning it as the car starts. He pulls out of the parking spot, and before you know it, you're down the road. You can't keep your eyes off his hands, the veins exposed from his tight grip on the wheel, the way he casually drives is hot to you. No, not him? Why are you ogling the nerd of all people, damn it, you need to stop. You are pulled out of your thoughts at the soft call of your name. "Hey? You okay, you zoned out~" Matt mentions as he pulls into his driveway.

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It has been about an hour since you and him arrived, and all you hear is "blah blah blah" when he talks. You never thought you'd be in awe of the schools nerd, but something about him just makes you wanna shove the book off his lap and smash your lips on his. "Hey? Did you write that down?" He asks as he taps the equation on the paper. "Oh- uh yeah...one second," you nod as you quickly copy down the problem. "Has anyone ever told you that you look cute in glasses?" You compliment without thinking, and when it clicks in your head, you go red, matching Matt's face as well. "Uh, I am so sorry. I didn't mean to say that I-" You stutter out in embarrassment. "Hey, uh- y-your, fine, I just...wasnt- expecting that?" He reassures shakily with a small chuckle. "Let's just uh- get back to work." He says as he looks back down to the thick textbook on his lap. "But uh...thank you- and uh...you are really pretty-" he mumbles in a barely audible tone, but you still hear him, both of you red as a tomato. "But uh, let's just keep working..." you mumble and you both nod. It may not feel like it but this might just end differently than both of you thought.

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It's now the next day at school, throughout the morning you both exchange small glances in the halls. It has now hit lunchtime and he's is in shock when you sit your tray on the lunch table and sit down next to him. Why weren't you sat with the popular kids? "Uh, hey~" Hey says softly, praying he doesn't mess this up, nor make you uncomfortable. "Hi, uh I know I should've asked before I sat down but...may I sit?" You ask with a chuckle. "Yeah I don't mind at all" he chuckles as he takes a bit of his food. "Okay, thanks...my friends are being dicks so, figured I'd sit here~" you admit with a sigh, making him frown a bit. "Why? What did they do?" He tilts his head. "Oh they are just making fun of me for talking with you and shit but it's fine." You take a bite of your food, him doing the same. "Well, I wouldn't mind if you hung out with me more~" he admits with a grin and you reciprocate it. "I'd love to hang out more Matt, it'd be fun" you chuckle as his cheeks go bright red. "Well uh...same time for tutoring?" He nods, "yeah, same time works, just meet me in the parking lot again" he smiles, watching you stand up and leaving the lunchroom. He doesn't mind being your tutor, hell, maybe he might get a relationship out of it cause of how it's going but he can never be sure~

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Hi guys! So this was chapter one, there will be many more but I hope you like this. Again this is my first series so it won't be super long as I'm still working on the lots of writing bit I hope you enjoy it loves🫶🏻

Dividers by me :)

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[abbysimsfun]

Sims In Bloom: Generation 2 Pt. 114 (A Winterfest to Remember?)

The events of this post occurred leading up to and during Winterfest (Generation 2 parts 99 to 102)

As Winterfest approached, Nicola and her brother Dominic allowed themselves to reminisce about holidays with their father. The spirit of the season had begun to infect them, and their gloomy hearts were beginning to open up to the spirit of the season.

Hazel woke late and came downstairs - she'd been at the Gnome's Arms until the early hours of the morning, and Nicola wondered how she could be so chipper. "Morning!" Hazel said, but the number of good mornings between them had dwindled. "Are we all ready for Wicked Winterfest Movie Night at the pub?"

"You've been home for five hours and you already want to go back?"

Hazel shot an annoyed glance at her wife. "We've been going to Wicked Winterfest every year since high school."

"Midnight Massacre 3 is barely even a Winterfest movie."

"It takes place on Winterfest Eve!"

Nicola sighed. "I just don't feel up to it this year. Don't you want to stay in and watch something less gory? My mom said she'd bake her chocolate chip cookies."

"River, Cass, even my Dad said they'd be there tonight. It's a tradition. I have to go."

"You don't have to go."

"Well, you don't have to stay home."

Hazel left for work in a foul mood. While she and the mayor canvassed in Finchwick that afternoon, he stopped to talk with her near the village green.

"Is something wrong, Hazel? You haven't been applying yourself to the job as much lately as you did when you started."

"I like my job, Mayor Varner, but I'm not sure this is what I want to be doing. It's a lot of administration and I don't know if I'm making a difference."

The mayor smiled warmly. Taking the reins of a town like Henford was rarely a stressful job, but Mayor Varner was kind and unflappable. "Enjoy your time off over the holidays, and give your future some thought. We can talk more about it in the new year."

Hazel met her family in the upstairs den of the Gnome's Arms, where every Winterfest they played slasher flicks for those who appreciated a little subversion from the usual cozy celebrations. Her sister-in-law, Cassandra, was delightful and charming but also a little gloomy from time to time, and she loved this tradition as much as Hazel.

"Midnight Massacre 3 never gets old. It's a Winterfest classic!" she gushed, too excited to sit down.

Hazel stayed out late for another night, chatting into the early hours with fellow local horror fan, Elsa Bjerg-Watson. She lived in Old New Henford with her parents, Bjorn and Clara, her wife Maira, and their daughter Jada, but she said the family had just made room for her niece, who had moved to Henford from San Myshuno.

"Suri broke up with her girlfriend a few months ago and she needed a change of scene. My mother's the best professional baker this side of Simlandia - even she knows she'll never match Noemi Alegria in Tartosa - but Suri wants to be as good as her grandmother someday."

"If Suri's cakes are as good as Clara Bjergsen's, I'll be her best customer," said Hazel.

The next morning was Winterfest Eve, and Nicola's mom, Kim, made chocolate chip cookies. She probably missed Eddie's presence at their holiday celebrations even more than her kids, leaving the cookies on the kitchen table before heading upstairs to cry it out in her room.

Hazel joined her wife in the kitchen and made a beeline for the cookie platter. "Did you want to head over to my parents tomorrow in the morning to open presents, or did you want to open presents together here?"

"We want to open our presents on Winterfest Eve this year because Dad always liked opening them before bed."

Hazel shrugged. "Okay, great. Then tomorrow we can go over in the morning for presents with my family, too."

"We want to go for a walk to see the wildlife on Winterfest morning. Dad loved living out here for the wild foxes and bunny rabbits."

Hazel didn't mind Henford's picturesque forests, bunnies, and birds, but they could walk through Isle of Volpe Park any day of the year. "I'd really like to go over to see my family in the morning."

"You're with them all the time," she said. "Why not make time for me?"

"Nic, I'm sorry you lost your dad, but he wouldn't want you to mourn him this long. He loved you too much to see you so sad. But when I'm home you're grading papers."

"You don't know what my Dad would have wanted, Haze. And seriously, when are you home?"

"I'm home right now and we're fighting again!"

Nicola and Hazel finally heard themselves and grew quiet, but a bitterness had long ago started to fester.

Hazel spent Winterfest Eve and most of Winterfest Day with her family, not her wife. She gushed over Heather's new engagement ring, and wouldn't let her own relationship troubles dampen her excitement for her big sister.

Hazel lingered outside a while before sunset. She hoped to delay going home just a little longer, in favour of a cozy celebration with her family. Like old times. She finally turned to leave when her phone buzzed with a text from Nicola.

Come meet me by the rink. Please.

Henford's local ice rink was just across the laneway from her childhood home on Cobblebottom Street, and she met her wife next to the ice with a kiss.

"I'm sorry I've been so hard to live with lately," said Nicola with a sheepish smile. "I don't let myself get sad about my dad, but holding it in makes me angry. I know I need to talk to someone for me as much as we need to talk to someone for us. But I love you, and I want to make us work."

"I want that, too."

With the sunset providing a picture-perfect backdrop to a tense Winterfest season, Hazel and Nicola found a way to end Winterfest with a cozy celebration at the ice rink, after all.

Could their blissful moment last, and would they make time for counseling as intended? ->

<- Previous Chapter | Gen 2 Start | Gen 2.1 Summary

Gen 1 Start | Gen 1 Summary

In case you're wondering why this is such a sad arc already, Nicola's grief moodlets say it is:

[kurogane2512]

Been thinking about this voiceline from Lady Pearl and just had to write a little fic~

Mainly contains kissing and implied sex, nothing explicit

You were taking a round of the recreational area, looking at the various activities the Sinners were doing. It was usually a joyous place all day, filled with laughter and leisure. Of course, there were also areas which were far quieter, reserved for the peaceful ones. As you walked past, you noticed Lady Pearl seated in a faraway corner reading a file. She had a curious and intriguing expression on her face which prompted you to ask what she was up to.

"Ah, how may I help you, honey?~" she chimed with a smile when you stood beside her.

"It's nothing, I was just wondering what you were doing."

"Oh, curious little thing, aren't you?~" she chuckled and patted the place beside her, suggesting you to sit down.

"Hm, I was going over the script for a new play at Fortuna. It's shaping up to be quite good, I'm eager to have you watch it with me~"

"I see, what is it going to be about?"

"I don't want to spoil the fun so all I'll say is it's a romantic tale brimming with passion~"

She flipped open the script again and browsed some lines with a hum before letting out a giggle.

"What is it? Is it a funny scene?" you asked, feeling slightly curious of her reaction.

"No, quite the opposite in fact. It's a kiss scene~"

You blushed for a moment and cleared your throat, "O-Oh, I see. Sounds to be a passionate tale of romance indeed...."

Lady Pearl's lips curled up in a smirk, "You know, a kiss is a wonderful but fleeting thing. When it fades, reality hits and the madness dries up. Some people accept it, while others....sprial."

Your gaze subconsciously fell on her lips at this statement, feeling drawn to her tempting, plump and moist peach lips. Just then, she turned to face you and met her gaze with yours while her hand cupped your cheek as she leaned closer.

"I wonder, if it were you, what unexpected choices would you make?~"

Your eyes flickered down to her lips even more, and she knew well where you were looking. She too gazed at your lips for a moment and dragged her hand down to rub them with her thumb.

"....Why don't we find out?~" you replied unexpectedly, her eyes widening for a second before she leaned back and retracted her hand.

"An interesting suggestion. I'll almost feel envious of being a mere spectator of a passionate display like that~"

"Why would you be a spectator? I was thinking of doing it with you. Wouldn't that be more effective?"

Lady Pearl couldn't help but laugh, finding you adorable.

"To say that so directly.... You are bold and untamed, and that's what I like about you~"

You blushed again, "Isn't that what you were thinking as well?"

"Hehe, who knows. But tell me, do you really prefer me over those pretty, adorable young ones? I'm sure there are quite a number of people here who'd love to have that kind of opportunity with you~"

You averted your gaze for a moment then firmly looked into her eyes, "I'll be honoured to do it with you. I don't really care about age, you are beautiful and desirable no matter what."

Lady Pearl felt her cheeks become warm but she hid her flustered self well. She placed her left hand on your shoulder and shifted closer, your eyes once again falling on her lips.

"How unpredictable and flattering.... Every moment with you is worth remembering." she whispered while placing her right hand on your cheek, drawing your face closer to hers.

The wait felt like an eternity as you both drew closer, until a fire surged through your body the moment your lips touched. It started as a simple touch, a mere contact of muscles. Then it transformed into a desire for something deeper and intimate. Her lips were soft and tasted like peach with a hint of strawberry, a taste you became addicted to quickly and sought more of. Your lips moved with hers with passion and an unmatched intensity she had never experienced before.

Lady Pearl expected to lead and make you overwhelmed, but she was quite surprised by your quick adaptation and the way you fought to conquer her. Your taste was equally addicting to her. She leaned into you as much as possible, her arms snaking around your neck to kiss deeper. You settled your hands on her waist and rested against the wall behind you, enjoying this fervent exchange with her. Breaths mingled and tongues danced as the next act approached, muffled voices coming out as moans resounding in your ears.

It was supposed to be a simple kiss, but neither of you knew how it turned into this heated frenzy. Her hands roamed over your body and shuffled through your clothes in desperation, eager to rip and expose your naked body for herself. But she kept her composure knowing you were in a public place, still she found it difficult to stop the growing lust in her. She knew what the madness in a kiss meant, yet to experience it like this was unexpected. She wanted to see how you'd react after the madness ends, but she couldn't guarantee her own state now.

"....-ief" you felt someone calling you in the hazy state of your mind.

"Chief." the voice came again and the haze started clearing up as you opened your eyes.

You were met with the sight of Lady Pearl still pressed into you and your lips ravaging hers, but you finally realized someone was standing behind her and calling out to you continuously.

"Oi, idiot Chief! Snap back to your senses!" The piercing voice was all too familiar, it was Hella, and the other calm voice was Hecate.

Your face reddened up in embarrassment at the situation, you didn't know when you got lost in the feeling of the kiss and forgot where you were. Just then, Lady Pearl released the kiss and moved away from you with a smirk adorning her lips as if she was unfazed during the entire exchange. She looked at your flustered self and licked her lips while caressing yours with her thumb.

"Hehe, a most interesting experience. You surprised me once again~"

You were breathing heavily as you tried to pull yourself together then hurriedly stood up, "A-Ah, I got to go now! I hope that gave you your answer, good luck with the play!"

You grabbed Hella and Hecate's wrists then swiftly walked away. Lady Pearl watched you go from the corner of her eyes then turned back to face the front before taking a long, deep breath. She touched her chest and felt her heart pounding as if it was ready to jump out. She then touched her lips and pondered about the feeling of yours, she wanted more— no, she needed more. How could a simple kiss intensify her feelings for you so much? She didn't think she'd be one of those who spiral; and judging by your reaction, you were clearly spiraling too but holding back. Well, what was the point of holding back? She always believed in making unpredictable choices and forging one's own path.

It was late night when you were seated in your office working on documents, but your mind was ever-muddled and diverted from the events of the morning. You couldn't get the kiss out of your mind. You couldn't get Lady Pearl out of your mind- her taste, scent, voice, face- everything kept spiraling in your mind constantly like a tornado. Your hands became sweaty as you thought about the kiss more and soon kept your pen down to take a break and get your focus back. You were about to get up to fetch some coffee when a knock was heard on your door, followed by none other than Lady Pearl coming in.

"Apologies for disturbing you at this hour, honey. Do you have a minute?~"

"O-Oh, sure! Come in, please! Would you like to have some tea or coffee?" you nervously spoke while walking back n forth, picking up documents and clothes from the chair to make space for her to sit.

She watched your shifty state, your fumbling steps and uneasy glances as you tried to remain calm. You were adorable as ever, but even more so this way. She was planning to be slow and tease you a bit first, do some foreplay and make you desperate. But she found that to be a waste of time when she could be having your body in her arms instead. She waited as you poured out a cup of coffee before turning around to talk with her. You placed your coffee on your desk and were about to walk to your side of the table when she stopped you by holding your wrist. Her touch instantly sent shivers down your body, your mind once again thinking of the kiss.

"I-Is everything oka— mmph!~"

Your words were blocked as Lady Pearl pressed her lips to yours instantly for a short moment.

"No, everything is not okay. You have been on my mind all day, so much so that I have been rendered ineligible for several tasks. I couldn't even finalize the script from today and it's all your fault, honey~"

She teased with a smirk and walked closer until you were leaning against the edge of your desk, she held your hands and guided them around her waist before settling her own on your shoulders.

"....Did you get the answer to the question from then?"

She hummed and brought her face closer until your lips were barely touching, your breaths mingling together.

"To some extent. But it also gave birth to more questions~"

You pursed your lips then suddenly pulled her closer, "I guess we should answer each of them one by one~"

Lady Pearl chuckled then wasted no time to devour your lips with hers. The affair was much more passionate and needy from before, both of you desperately fulfilling your desires. You slipped off her shawl while she unbuckled your chest harness and proceeded to unbutton your shirt. Your bodies pressed closely as you tried to push back and pin her to the wall, your hands roaming all over her curves. Just when you thought you had her pinned to the wall, she showed an unexpected display of strength and pushed you down the sofa instead then straddled you.

"Mmm, h-honey!~" she moaned into the kiss as she sat on your waist, her fingers continuing to open your shirt.

"So passionate.... fervent.... yet loving.... Oh, I'll let the flames devour the world while we act out the utmost frenzy! Show me more, honey!~" she chanted in a lovestruck state.

You slipped the straps of her dress from her shoulders until her body was half exposed as you sat up to hold her. She wrapped her arms around your head and kissed you deeply, making out with unmatched fervour and need. Of course, she didn't stop at just kissing you— as implied by the hickeys on your neck and scratches on your back.

[dragonbabes]

F*ck it, I'll do it myself...

Note | I've taken it into my own hands and am writing a short series on the weeks that Rook is stuck in the fade. This is based off my Crow!Rook playthrough. I'm posting it through AO3 as well, because why not. And buckle up my friends, this is gonna be a long ride and is very much going to be a passion project.

Words | 4,366

Pairing | Rookanis, for sure

The Thorns that Bind

Ch 1

He comes to notice the ache in his jaw first. How that dull throbbing is slowly spreading up into the base of his head, and then down into his shoulder and neck; oh, how he ached all over. The familiar burning of muscles from being pushed to their limit, and further, has him releasing a groan and a mumbled curse. His eyes crack open and drag mindlessly over the floating shelves and rings of the astrolabe that is suspended in the lighthouse…

The lighthouse? When did he get here? What happened?

A form — long hair spilling over their shoulders — leans over him, eclipsing the bright light he’s been squinting at while collecting his thoughts. They extend a hand to him.

“Rook?” He clasps onto the hand that forcefully pulls him up and then steadies him as his head spins. No, not Ise. Brown eyes stare back at his, brows slackened with uncharacteristic worry, and lips in a thin line.

“Did you have to hit him so hard?” Neve snaps over her shoulder, her gaze hardening at Taash. The young Qunari crosses their arms and shrugs, keeping their position between Lucanis and the stairwell leading down to the eluvian. He takes note of Harding, standing at the top of the other set descending steps. The assassin puts together that his lapse of memory may have as much to do with Taash’s blow as Spite’s influence.

“We don’t need him hunting down Solas and getting himself killed.” Taash confirms it with her own hard look at Neve. Lucanis rubs at his jaw and shuts his eyes at the sharp pain that jolts through it. What made Spite take over? He doesn’t recall going to sle-

“Get the dagger!” The line — one that comes with blurred images of bright red and the smell of metal — echoes in his head. He remembers being thrown back. From what? He squeeze his eyes shut and turns away from the others, so they wouldn’t see the confusion flittering across his paled skin. His heart begins pounding, his muscle tensing; Lucanis stands on the edge of a watery memory, desperately trying to get a clear view of what he was seeing or where he was.

“Lucanis?” Neve sounds like she's shouting from the other end of a tunnel.

There’s a crushing force pressing down against him, a fierce wind lashing out at him and throwing dirt and debris against his cheeks; it burned. He could only push himself to his hands and knees. He used one hand to block the blinding light trying to catch sight of-

“Rook! Get the dagger, Rook!” It’s a sudden shift that has his cheeks and arms running cold, and his heart coming to a dead stop from its hammering beat. There’s a flash of her long burgundy locks whipping in the wind, her hand latching around the hilt of the dagger – a swell of triumph in his chest because he won, he stabbed and killed the elvan god Ghilan’nain, and he smiled – and then her scream tears through his head.

“Where’s Rook?” Lucanis’ voice is drawn tight, his hand reaching out to stop Neve from stepping closer to him. He can feel and hear Spite fighting for control; bellowing that he gets her out. If he loses control again, he fears what Spite will do if they were to step between him and his goal: deny the Dreadwolf, kill Fen'Harel.  “Where is Isehari, Neve?” He pushes as the silence persists

“You don’t remember?” The mage’s voice is full of a pity that Lucanis can’t stand to hear. Why pity him? His flaring eyes dart to Neve’s, where the fire within him is immediately extinguished at the watery look she gives back. She wears a slack brow over downturned and wobbling lips. For the stoic Neve to have that look on her lovely features; Lucanis’ eyes flutter at the burn in them.

“What, Neve?” He grinds out, impatiently looks to the other for answers. Ghilan’nain is dead, Rook had the dagger. His gaze pleads with Neve to tell him what he doesn’t remember.

“After you killed Ghilan’nain and Ise grabbed the dagger, a tear occurred in the Veil… She was pulled into the fade, and – and,” Neve begins a pace, “we don’t know what went on in there, but it was the same at Solas' ritual, except this time Solas came out and…” She stops and surrenders her hands in front of herself. “And Isehari didn't.”

“So…” Lucanis blinks at the others. So, she’s trapped in the fade? Trapped in the prison that ancient mages, so powerful they were considered gods, couldn’t escape themselves for thousands of years? It digs up the suffocating feelings he thought he’d buried with Zara. Feeilngs that made him slam his fists against his cell walls, made him pace and scream and tear at his hair; feelings that he's smothered a thousand times before. He heaves in a sudden and deep breath, burying the corners of his lips into his cheeks.

“She’s imprisoned in the fade.” Taash does him the favor of saying it for him. He swallows thickly and focuses to keep his legs under himself. Lucanis reminds himself to count his breaths, deep and slow, until the pounding in his ears subsides.

“Thank you, Taash.” Lucanis nods to them. “Can we get her out?” Taash’s eyes flick to Neve, piercing into the mage.

“The question of the hour.” Lucanis raises his brow at Taash’s words and then takes in the closed off stance they hold toward Neve. The tucked chin, arms crossed over their chest, feet a shoulders width apart. He could cut the air between them like butter; the hard stares he’s finally taking note of making his feet shift.

“Am I missing something?” The assassin asks. Neve hums at him and holds her hand out to Taash.

“Oh, yes indeed!" Neve motions towards the dragon hunter, "Taash was enlightening me on how I don’t care about Isehari.” Neve’s voice is hard, and a tight-lipped smile returns to her face. Taash rolls their eyes.

“Neve…” Harding’s voice is shaking with nerves. Lucanis can see it on her round face, in the flush of her cheeks and her darting eyes, the way she holds her hands out in front of her as if she’s trying to calm a wolf. He imagines she feels that she is, somewhat, sandwiched between the towering form of Taash and the cool look Neve is giving. He’d be on edge too. “I don’t think Taash means it that way.”

“I do.” They don’t waste a beat.

“How can you say that?” Neve scoffs. Lucanis’ trained ear picks up the strain in the investigators tone. He looks back to Taash.

“Not really sure how ‘let’s leave Rook to rot in the fade’ exactly says you care about her.” Taash narrows their gaze. Neve throws her hands out and shakes her head. Lucanis holds his hand up and shakes his head.

“Wait – we’re considering leaving her?” Taash shrugs.

“I’m not.”

“I didn’t say that Taash!” Neve’s voice is raising. She takes a step closer to Taash, and Lucanis moves forward instinctively. He joins Harding in standing between the two and watching their every movement. What the pair would do — with Taash being triple the size of both of them, and Neve a force to be reckoned with — he isn’t sure. “I’m just saying that Elgar’nan is still out there. We need to deal with him.”

“Not without Rook.” Taash stands their ground. Lucanis is inclined to agree with them, too.

“Taash, not even Solas – an ancient elven god — could escape that prison. What makes you think we can get Rook out?” Neve’s voice comes out softer this time, almost as if she’s pleading with Taash.

“If we can’t, then Rook will.”

“Rook is just Rook, Taash. She’s not even a mage. What can she do?” Lucanis flinches at her words; he can see Neve recoiling at them herself. The dragon hunter’s hands find purchase in their hair as they begin pace around. “What do you expect her to do?”

“I don’t know!” Taash cries, tearing their hands from their hair and turning back to Neve. The tears reddening their eyes makes the mage draw back and swallow the other words she was poised to spew. “I don’t know, Neve. But Rook finds a way. She always finds a way.”

“And if we take the time to get her out? Elgar’nan will decimate everything in the meantime. Rook won’t have a home to even come back to.” Neve stops. As do the rest.

“If she can come back.” Harding’s head falls.

“You too?” Taash’s expression falls. “You’d turn your back on her?” Harding looks to her hands, head falling a little, and shoulders slumping forward. “No! I-“ Harding’s lip wobbles, but she steels herself against the judgement pouring from Taash with a deep and quick breath, “People are dying, Taash. We can't ignore that.” They only grunt back to Harding and then turn away, putting distance between themselves and the rest. “Varric brought us together to stop the world from falling apart. That’s what I intend to do.” Harding’s voice is soft. Lucanis’ heart pounds in his head. He sees where Neve and Harding are coming from… But…

“I can’t…” Lucanis’ voice breaks as soon as he starts. His head falls. Heaving in deep breaths, he tries to find the right words.

Does he want the world to burn? No. Of course not! But… He almost doesn’t care, with Isehari gone. The last time he fought a god with something weighing on his mind like this, he failed. He doesn’t get to fail twice. Not this late in the game, not with Elgar’nan on the cusp of breaking this world entirely…

“I can’t do this without Rook.” Lucanis’ words are rushed, and he’s positive he’ll never be able to get them out so evenly again. “It’ll be Weisshaupt all over again. I cannot do this, knowing she is trapped in there.”

“I don’t like it either, Lucanis, but what other choice do we have?” Neve reasons. “We don’t have the dagger, we don’t know anything about the rituals to open the prison, or where to look for rook, or how to find her; if she’s even still alive.” He takes in a sharp breath.

“She’s alive.” His words are hard, but his eyes are pleading. Eyes begging Neve to never utter those words again, or he may wither away to nothing. Her rich, chocolate eyes keep locked with his, steadily, before she sighs and turns away from him with a shake in her head.

“If I might…” Emmrich’s quiet and smooth voice, and the only person in the room who still seems to have a grip on even a thread of reason, finally breaks the silence he’s been keeping, “Rook has been gone for approximately four hours… We have done nothing but argue in the meantime.”

Lucanis didn’t realize it’s been so long since everything happened. It’s been a blink of an eye between now and when he saw Rook grab the dagger. Part of him deflates and he repeats those words to himself; it’s only been four hours, and Lucanis feels he’s already at death’s door…

“Yeah. All over bullshit, too.” Taash snorts over their shoulder at them. “We shouldn’t even have to argue this.”

“It’s not-“ Harding comes to an abrupt halt at Emmrich’s raising hand, the jewelry adorning him clanking together.

“Come now. We’ve been making circular arguments.”

“Because Taash won’t listen!” Neve cries. “Everyone else can see reason.”

“This isn’t about seeing reason! This is about being there for a friend that’s never let us down.”

“Oh?” Neve tilts her head toward them. Lucanis can already guess what she means — they’ve talked it over again and again — before it comes out of Neve’s mouth in a cool tone, “What was Minrathous?”

“Minrathous wasn’t just Rook’s responsibility.” There’s a glean in Taash’s eye, one that has Lucanis moving closer to them.

“Taash is right on this, Neve.” Lucanis pitches into the conversation. “I thought we worked past that…”

“I know that Rook made a hard call… But…” Neve crosses her arms over herself. “Lucanis you’ve seen my home now. You all have. I fully believed that Isehari would come through for me that day… So, forgive me if I don't feel the same about it.”

“Four hours and eight minutes we’ve been arguing.” Emmrich sighs. “Rook would have this cleared up in no time, wouldn’t she?” There’s a distant look in his eye when he says it, and a melancholy smile taking up his lips. Isehari does have a nose for trouble; she somehow shows up as soon as words started getting tense. She came with a smile and disarming green-blue eyes curved and sparkling. It’s like she sucked all their anger directly out of them. Then, she’d play peacekeeper.

“She did have a knack for peace keeping, didn’t she?” Harding gives a light laugh…

There’s a long silence after that. One that’s needed after the last twenty-four hours. He takes that time to sit down; the others soon follow. Every inch of Lucanis’ body runs numb with fatigue, his heads spinning, and his stomach twists. When’s the last time any of them have eaten? He’s still got blood dried on his gloves, and a cut on his arm he really should patch up. The others don’t fare much better than him. All disheveled, covered in blood, bruises, and dirt.

“Listen…” Lucanis leans forward. “We’re all exhausted. We need to clean ourselves up and eat something.”

“That’s an excellent idea!” Emmrich says. The assassin stands quickly and nods to the others before darting out of the lighthouse doors.

~*~

Dull eyes stare back at him. Shallow pools of earthy brown; pupils blown a little wide, the whites irritated, and the skin beneath them reddened and purple. They reflect nothing. He looks into them, and he sees nothing; feels nothing; can read nothing.

Gaze turns back down to the basin in front of him. He watches his hands turn through the cold water, barely feeling it shift against his calloused palms, and then considers how the firelight flickers off the ripples in the bowl, or the water dipping off his hands. His hands. They turn in front of him, and he examines the scarred knuckles on his right hand, the hardened skin on his palm; these are the hands that have taken a thousand lives, hands that he cooks with, the hands he used to brush Rook’s hair back from her eyes and tuck it behind her ear.

The hard and blank expression he’s practiced in the mirror falls off, his brow pinches, and his downturned eyes crest with unshed tears. He reached out to her that day without thinking – on instinct, because he couldn’t see her eyes – and took up the soft tresses that had fallen over her shoulder; her wide eyes had shot up to him and frozen him in place, hand stopping at the corner of her jaw before he quickly yanked it away. His heart was pounding, every inch of his body thrummed, he was on fire; he felt alive.

His heart beats the pace of a dirge now. His limbs are numb, and he is cold. Muscles aching at every movement, the assassin splashes water over his face and rubs at his quaking expression, until the sob swelling in his chest subsides and he can iron his expression out once more. The icy water on his face puts his feet a little flatter on the ground. He lets his head hang.

Rook is gone… She… Isehari is missing.

“Find. Rook.” Those words have been Spite’s mantra since Lucanis has come to. “She was torn away. Get her back!” Mierda, Spite knows no rest. It’s exhausting, ignoring the same thing being screamed and grunted every so often. “Ripped and torn from us!” Lucanis’ eyes flick up to the brown ones before him, and he meet’s the purple flash just behind the pupils with a wave of fresh determination hardening in his heart and setting in a frown on his lips:

He will get Rook back. At the very least, Solas will answer for his transgressions against Ise.

Lucanis steps back into the dining hall and pulls the tray holding the coffee he brewed along with cups, sugar, a small pitcher of sweetened milk, and a small jar of cinnamon off the counter… No one but Ise puts cinnamon in their coffee; he gave her a strange look the first time she followed him to the market one day to purchase a small jar of cinnamon and sweetened milk... He’s kept it stocked since.

He leaves the cinnamon on the tray and turns to Manfred, who stands close at his side, hissing his eagerness to help.

“Take this to the others, please.” The spirit takes up the tray – Lucanis imagines if Manfred could smile, his lips would be stretching from ear to ear, the way he bounces about – and scuttles toward the door. The assassin returns his attention to the assortment of foods he’s prepared, counting the plates and utensils twice, before taking up the dishes and realizing he’ll have to make two trips; the plate of fruits and the puff pastries that Harding always takes two of.

“Here… I’ll help.” Harding’s voice is quiet and sudden; he almost didn’t hear her approaching.

“Thank you.”

“I’m happy to… I’m not much help in there right now anyways.” Lucanis hums his agreement; he understands. This, he casts his eyes down to the snacking meats, cheese, and sliced bread in his hand, is the best he can do. Isehari is trapped in a lonely desolate place, and all he can do is prepare a decent spread.

Lucanis cannot poison the sky; he cannot stab the veil and force his way into the fade to find her; he doesn’t understand any of that. What he does know is that no one has eaten much of anything in at least eleven hours. No one here has any appetite to eat a meal, but a snack and drink is less daunting.

The others have cleaned themselves up and taken seats in the time that Lucanis has been preparing the food. He sees that the adrenaline has finally left the others systems, just as it’s left him an exhausted mess. Their eyes have fallen lidded, shoulders are slumped forward, defeated. The loud and passionate voices from before have become withdrawn and staggered between drawn out silences.

Emmrich is hunched forward with his forehead pressed to his hands, clasped atop his walking stick; the charcoal gray hair on his head is freshly washed, but unusually displaced. Neve holds her cup out as Manfred pours the coffee with a fascinated hiss at the rising steam. Taash has resumed the same pose as before: leaned back in their chair, arms crossed over their chest, furrowed brow, a frown, a tucked chin, and a withering glare locked on the table. Lucanis sits the snacks in front them, hoping it’ll redirect their attention for at least a minute. He takes up a cup from the coffee tray, and Manfred hops over to him.

“Thanks.” Lucanis’ eye is drawn to the coffee tray as Harding pours a bit of sweetened milk in her coffee. The three cups remaining on the tray catches his attention, and it remains there. One for Davrin, another for Bellara, and the last for Rook.

“Hey…” Neve’s soft voice calls him back. He shakes his head at her questioning gaze.

“Have we gotten anywhere?” Emmrich’s head is shaking before Taash or Neve could fire another back handed word or start up another argument that bordered more on word vomit than actual reasoning.

“We’re just circling the drain, my friend.” The necromancer leans back in his chair. “We can’t come to an agreement.” Lucanis can’t help the twinge of annoyance in his chest. He swallows it into his endless pool of patience and nods instead of snaps at the two stubborn parties glaring at each other.

“Right…” Lucanis grinds out quietly. “We’re not doing anybody any favors while standing here arguing. Not for the people dying by Elgar’nan’s hand,” he levels Neve with a look before turning it onto Taash, “and not Rook. We need to do something.”

“Like Emmrich said before,” Taash begins in a surprisingly civil tone, taking up some of the cheese from the tray, “Rook would’ve had this figured out asap. We need Rook to make the decisions, whether we like it or not. If we go up against Elgar’nan without her, and we can’t come up with a plan on the fly, we’re all dead. And everything was for nothing.”

“Taash, there is so much we don’t know, and not enough time to understand it. Believe me, I want to get Isehari out; I do! But this is so much more than stabbing at the sky and pulling her out.”

“Well, duh. But, if I’m right, didn’t Rook just spend the past few months recruiting fade experts, famous investigators, and assassins? If there’s anyone that stands a chance of helping Rook, it’s us.” Lucanis nods.

“They’re right. It’s not like we have to chose one or the other, right?” Harding sits up on the sofa, and then sits her glass down as her face lightens. “Emmrich, Taash, and Lucanis, you can look into what we’ll need to do to get Rook back, if you can… Neve and I can keep tabs on Elgar’nan. Loosing Ghilan’nain must be somewhat of a setback for him.”

“Or it’s just pissed him off a little more.” Neve mumbles. Harding nods, acknowledging that that could be very true as well. The mage sighs. “You tear open the Veil, and there are going to be consequences.”

“As there always are.” Lucanis finally takes a seat.

“The consequences are something to consider.” Neve reasons. “What we could do by breaking into that prison? It could be catastrophic; we could release more blight, release more demons, or get ourselves killed in the process.” Taash scoffs.

“Rook wouldn’t let any of that stop her if it was any of us in there.” Lucanis is inclined to agree with them. “Rook would find a way. We need to do the same.”

“You’re right. Rook does things that no one expects, and she rarely considers the consequences when the stakes are high. But that’s also the whole reason any of us are here.” Neve cooly says back.

“Neve…” Lucanis shakes his head. “I don’t think it’s fair to blame all of this on Isehari.” The Shadow Dragon blinks and shakes her head.

“Oh! I’m not pointing a finger at her. I haven’t forgotten that I was pushing that beam right next to her. But that doesn’t change that we were reckless… And we released two blighted gods on the world.” Neve’s voice trails off, until she is silent again. Everyone is. Lucanis sighs and begins to run his hand over the fabric of the chair beneath him. Ise always sits here when the team gathers. She was here, in this chair, less than a day ago, and her scent is still fresh. It’s wrapping around him much like a hug. The thought places heavy weight into chest; a feeling that makes his body tense, and ache.

“I…” Lucanis’ voice comes out tight and gravelly, “I will kill as many blighted gods as I need to. Once Rook is safe.” Neve stares at him with an unreadable expression, until she takes her eyes away when she takes another drink of her coffee.

“I know.” They’re all quiet for a bit. “Bell would be far better for this than I am… I want to help Rook,” Neve’s eyes are pointed at Taash, who purses their lips and looks away, ”but I can’t ignore the threat that Elgar’nan poses.” Emmrich’s head falls as he gives a somber nod. 

“Solas has the lyrium dagger.” Harding suddenly announces, bringing the rare burst of momentum they’d found to an abrupt halt. They sit in silence, occasionally taking a drink, occasionally plucking a bite from the assortment of food on the table, and occasionally sighing.

“Elgar’nan and Ghilan’nain made their own dagger. We can do the same, right?” Lucanis suggests. Both Emmrich and Neve stare at the assassin, before they look at each other, considering.

“We could, technically… But the power we would require to make that…” Emmrich looks to Neve and shakes his head, and she only responds with a shrug of her own. “I’m not sure how we would come across that.”

“When the Inquisitor closed the Breach ten years ago, she had to siphon enough mana into the mark to do it… She recruited the rebel mages from Redcliffe… Could we do something similar to that?” Harding asks.

“It could work… I’m not sure where we’d find that many mages."

“We all know a few.” Harding says. “We have connections; let's use them. I should reach out the Inquisitor Lavellan and let her know how things have turned out… She might be able to help with the dagger and recruiting enough mages to help.”

"We should get in contact with Morrigan again… I imagine she’d have some good counsel right now.” Neve adds.

“I agree.” Emmrich has straightened considerably, like a flower that had been without sun for too long, and there's a new brightness in his eye. “In the meantime, I will reach out to Vorgoth and some other associates. I’m hoping I will be able to gather more insight into the fade prison itself.”

“And I’ll see if Isabela can get started on tracking down the materials we’ll need to craft the dagger. If one of you could give me a list, that is.” Taash looks between Neve and Emmrich.

“Of course.” Neve nods to her.

“Any expenses, the Crows will cover. Spare no expense.” Lucanis says to Taash. They grin in turn.

“Well, ‘course I won’t.” Lucanis nods and swirls the coffee in his cup.

"I'll check in with with the Shadow Dragons, see what sort of movement the Venatori have been making. Bellara said she kept notes. I’ll take a look through her things to see if she kept any on the dagger.” Neve sighs, a new sense of calm masking over her features again.

“She and I looked at the dagger extensively together. I have a very basic understanding of it, but Bellara truly is the expert of it all… Her notes will be invaluable” Taash stands slowly and excuses themself to go and clean up. Dread sags into Lucanis’ shoulders, and he rests his head against the back of the chair.

“You’re not doing anything.” Spite’s voice crawls into his head. “Do. Something. Find Rook!” Lucanis rubs at his temple. He’s going to do something alright… He nearly dreads this more than he dreaded taking his first shot at Ghilan’nain.

He must tell Viago.

[thebramblewood]

I was tagged by @retrotrait, @simvanie, @moonwoodhollow, @aheathen-conceivably annnnnnd @salemssimblr to post my top 24 screenshots from 2024, but I jumped the gun on posting a retrospective earlier this month.

I still wanted to do something, though, so I'm going to take some inspiration from @elderwisp and talk about my favorite story scenes of the year specifically - since there's nothing I love more than yapping and reminiscing.

Before I start rambling, I'll tag @living-undead, @esotericas-sims, @fallstaticexit, @simsdaughters, @biffybobs, @whyeverr, @kissalopa and @earthmoonz! I'm sure some of you have already done this (and no pressure if you don't want to), but I'd love to see you reflect on your year in whatever way suits you!

Good food and hard truths with Grace Anansi (one, two). I think this is quietly one of my favorite moments in the story so far because it revealed so much about Caleb's past that until this point had only been hinted at. It also gave him a friend and confidante, which he sorely needed. This was an extremely lengthy and exposition-heavy conversation, so it was challenging but rewarding to write, edit (endlessly), and execute in a compelling way. Plus, its final moments had to lead seamlessly into...

Party like a spellcaster (one, two). I think this was the first flashback in the story, so it was a pretty big deal! It was also the point where my ambitions started making scene preparation increasingly complicated. I spent a hell of a long time converting broomsticks and potions into pose accessories, but I was so pleased with how the vision came together, and it taught me a lot of skills that have become indispensable as my ideas grow more elaborate. Overall, it was a welcome moment of levity and joy for Caleb, even as we know tragedy looms in the future.

Lilith does a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad thing. Turns out once I started doing flashback scenes, I couldn't stop. You guys have no idea how it felt to sit on this particularly nasty secret for months. I wanted it to be a shocking reveal that fully established Lilith's villain status, but I also knew I would have to get her back into Helena's - and our - good graces eventually. It's been interesting to write a character like her who you love and hate at once. Ultimately, I want all of us to be on the same rollercoaster ride as Helena, equal parts repulsed and fascinated. This was especially wild to bring to life because it felt pretty surreal to be adding a whole new layer to this idea that originated years ago in my legacy!

Helena Zhao can't come to the phone right now. I was very proud of this scene because it was the first one where I made all the poses myself. It was also a major turning point in Helena and Julia's relationship, where their sisterly bond is deeply tested. I may have cried a little while writing and shooting it. I really enjoyed the brief moments we got to spend in Julia's perspective, and I hope to bring her back if the story calls for it. Although she was in extreme shock at what her sister had done, I imagine she'd eventually come around to having a bit more compassion for her situation. She'd probably be open to reconciling someday, presuming Helena ever sets foot in Copperdale again.

Reunited and it feels so... good? (one, two). I didn't even realize I posted Helena and Lilith's reunion on April Fool's! Everyone was waiting with bated breath to see if they would ever cross paths again... and who are we kidding? Of course they would! I had a very good time writing this conversation and giving Helena a chance to finally get everything off her chest - though, of course, she couldn't help but be worn down by Lilith's manipulative charm in the end. And then Caleb got his comeuppance for keeping the truth of what happened a secret for so long, reminding us once again just how scary Lilith can be.

Plasma Pals! As dark as this story is, I enjoy weaving in moments of comedy and lightness when I can, so it was really fun to portray Caleb and Helena's evolving friendship through the lens of a cheesy sitcom. I wasn't sure it would hit with anyone other than me because the funniest things I write are usually accidental. It's hard to be funny on purpose! But it ended up being possibly my most popular story post ever, so obviously I did something right.

Lilith teaches Helena the true art of supernatural seduction. I wanted this section of the story to be all about the two very different approaches Lilith and Caleb take to teaching Helena. This was one of my most technically challenging scenes. I shot the entire attack sequence twice because I was underwhelmed the first time. But in the end I'm glad I took the time to do that because it contains some of my favorite screenshots ever and really conveys Helena's internal struggle. But will she be able to resist when it inevitably happens again?

The night where it all began, part one. I love this entire series of flashbacks, but I'm particularly fond of the opening because we finally get a glimpse into what Caleb and Lilith's relationship was like as humans. It turns out they liked each other! And only bickered in a light-hearted way! And conspired and giggled together! This was another scene where I made all the poses. It was exhausting, but these flashbacks to the Vatores' vampire origins were so important for me to get right. I'd been thinking about them for a long time, so I wanted them to be as perfect as possible.

How Caleb was transformed, one and two. Again with the flashbacks! I think part of the reason I like them so much is because, as much work as they are, they always offer a change of scenery that refreshes my creativity. This particular scene was one I was obsessing over for months, so I had cultivated a very specific vision of how it would play out and didn't want to compromise. I'm glad I had the foresight to start learning posing far enough in advance that I felt ready to take it on. If I had to choose, this is my single favorite scene of the year. Everything came together exactly how I wanted, and it gives me chills every time I revisit it.

A very vampiric dinner date, part two. This entire sequence took so much work to complete from beginning to end! But it was the first big outing beyond Forgotten Hollow in a while, and I wanted it to be special. I enjoyed being able to put a bunch of pre-mades into compromising positions with your guys' vampires. As much of a pain as it is to pose multiple Sims, the end results are always worth it. And then, of course, the sequence resolves in Helena and Lilith having a genuine moment of intimacy for the first time since Helena was turned, which had us all squealing.

Helena is horny and confused. Can you believe this is the only Ulrike appearance of the year? 😭 I'm really glad I managed to sneak one in. Even though they broke up before she was turned, Ulrike is the ultimate reminder of Helena's human life, of everything she left behind and of what could have been. Other than her family, Ulrike is who Helena misses most when she thinks about the past. This scene was pulled together quickly based on me finding the pose pack. I wasn't entirely sure if it would even work as part of the main narrative. But I feel like the spontaneity made it feel extra special, even if it is a smaller moment.

Forgotten Hollow 101. If anything, the theme of this year has been taking an increasingly long amount of time to finish every post. This is in part because I got busier in the second half of the year but also because I can't stop thinking up crazy complicated ideas. This one took me a month more or less. Even though each vampire only had one picture, it required a lot of effort to get them all in game, find poses, set up locations, etc.! But it was so important to me to do justice to your guys' vampires, so I was happy to take the time, even in the couple of moments where I began to feel burned out. I hope to keep showing off your lovely creations next year!

[cowboylikefaith]

with great power...

art donaldson spiderman! au x reader

summary: stanford has a masked superhero on the loose, and you're trying to crack down on his identity. little do you know, it's your boyfriend art.

warnings: cursing, injuries, reader highkey gets mugged, art is being mysterious af, reader is incredibly oblivious, sappy at the end sorry, not proofread

author's note: HI so this is actually my first time writing a fic ever... but this au idea has been absolutely rotting in my brain for the past week or so and i need to get it out. enjoy!!!!!!

╰🕸️ ₊✧ ﾟ❤️⚬𓂂➢

"dude!" you say barging into art's dorm (not realizing that your poor boyfriend was in the middle of a nap) "look at the topic the newspaper just assigned me. some shithead on campus is doing parkour in a scuba suit, people are calling him 'spiderman'."

art is pulled out of his trance-like state when he hears the name fall out of your mouth. you feel bad after realizing you woke him up, seeing him wipe his tired eyes with a pout on his lips. "hey pretty" he says with a lopsided smirk on his face "what were you talking about? some spider-idiot?" you hop into bed next to him "yeah it's nothing...sorry for waking you up, just go back to bed, 'kay?"

you don't know what's been up with art recently. he rarely returns your calls, he's always tired, and when he's awake, he's either in a rush or incredibly sluggish. you asked patrick about it and he said that the beginning of a new tennis season is wearing both of them down. seems reasonable, right?

now, it's been a few weeks since you were assigned this story, and jess (your senior editor) wants you to photograph and interview this spiderman guy, because apparently he's some kind of campus superhero (returning stolen laptops, helping drunk sorority girls avoid getting hit by cars, the usual) however you have no leads so far.

until one day, tashi tells you a story about how he saved a freshman from the tennis team from being hazed, and you decide to ask your boyfriend about it.

"you don't know anything about a kid named steven mcdonald, do you?" you ask art as you settle down to watch some gossip girl.

"that freshman who survived a hazing incident? yeah, i know of him" he replies as he pulls you into his arms and kisses your forehead.

you pull away with furrowed eyebrows "well did he...say...anything about that night?"

"uh no. no, not really" he says (a little distantly) "anyway! i seriously don't understand why serena loves dan so much, nate is obviously the better choice for her."

you roll your eyes sarcastically "wow donaldson...really smooth transition! way to change the subject there honey."

"i'm sorry.." he replies as he plays with your hair "it's just that...i don't want you getting mixed up in that kind of stuff. if you got hurt.." he sighs "i don't know what i'd do with myself"

and so you promise art that you'll stop working on the article...until jess says she'll kick you out of the stanford star if you do.

one night, as you're walking back to your dorm after dinner with tashi and patrick (third wheel much?), a man in a black ski mask suddenly approaches you and orders you to put your hands up.

"give me your fucking heels lady...and your purse!" he demands.

"oh god no" you shut your eyes and groan "please sir, these are really expensive and- and these are manolo blahniks!! my mom bought-"

before you can finish your rambling, you can hear a thud, and when open your eyes, you can see that he's been wrapped up in some web-like substance.

"don't worry, he's not dead" a figure says as he walks out from behind the criminal. you feel like you know him, you can't even see his face but something about him is just so familiar, and you can't put your finger on it. until..

oh my god

"oh my god! you're spiderman! thank you so much, seriously. that guy could've killed me" you say excitedly, forgetting about your past opinions about him.

art- i mean spiderman, chuckles and says that it's no problem, and asks if he could take you back to your dorm.

"yeah! i would love that, thank you." you reply "actually, could i take your photo? i'm doing an article about you for the stanford star." oh and art eats it UP. he's doing stupid poses and acting silly and goofy (just to hear you laugh of course).

you get back to your dorm safely, and spiderart bids you farewell. just before he leaps out your window, he pulls a red stanford cap (one that you've never noticed, and one that looks suspiciously like art's) out of his pocket.

"hey, maybe i'll see you around" he says as he puts the cap on...backwards. something that only art would do. lucky enough for him, you're too tired to notice.

"...and those are the differences between meiosis and mitosis." you're trying to study for another biology exam when all of a sudden you hear a tapping noise on your window.

at first you think it's a bird, or some frat boy trying to piss you off by throwing empty beer cans at your window, but the tapping turns into banging and you start to hear sounds of pain through the glass.

you run to the window and see a boy in a familiar red and blue suit sitting on the windowsill. this time with a huge gash in his side.

"spiderman? oh my god, get inside, what happened?" you ask while scrambling for a first aid kit. art falls onto your bed, unknowingly bleeding all over your new floral sheets. he groans and holds his side, mumbling something about...well god knows what.

art protests as you try to patch up the very open wound by his waist. "you're just like my boyfriend art," you say with a grin "he gets all fucked up during his tennis matches and doesn't let me help him out." you can hear him through the mask but you can't tell if it's a laugh or a whimper.

"jesus- how long is this going to take? i have an econ final to study for" he says with a wince. "not very long if you sit still, spiderboy" you retort "why don't you take off your mask? you must be dying with that thing on."

you feel his face, and it feels...familiar. you slowly take off the mask, and reveal art's lips, sculpted nose, blue and brown eyes, and tousled blonde hair.

suddenly you realize. you realize the reasons for the missed calls, hurried kisses, and rain-checked dates. all this time you've been thinking that it was tennis kicking his ass, when really art was kicking other people's.

"hi honey" art mumbles, same lopsided, boyish smile that you fell in love with gracing his face "i'm sorry. i should have told you." before you can say anything, he kisses you and sneaks his hands to the small of your back. you can feel him smiling into the kiss as he pulls you into his lap.

"i missed you" you say, pulling away with a pout. you card your hands through his blonde curls. "i know, i know, i'm sorry pretty girl, it's just that...i don't want you to worry about me." art replies, pushing your hair away from your face.

you flick his forehead. "you dumbass. of course i'm going to worry about you, whether you like it or not...because i like you. a lot. no matter what kind of freaky superpowers you have." art lets out a weak chuckle, then he kisses you like a man stuck in the desert for 40 days. you can feel him drawing small circles along your hips and caressing your thumb.

you pull away one last time. "now tell me spiderboy...how did you go from tennis team captain to stanford superhero?"

[heliosunny]

Yandere!Fyodor x Reader

I took a liking to this man recently so bear with me ∠( ᐛ 」∠)＿ Promise I'll write one for Dazai soon.

The step-mother who once wore a mask of kindness revealed her true nature after your father passed away.

"Y/n!!!!! Get down here!" The woman adorned in luxurious fabrics and expensive jewels screamed your name at the top of her lungs. You were cleaning the messed she caused you earlier that morning.

I'm thirsty! Go make me a drink - the elder woman demanded, tossing you orders like you were nothing but a servant. Dutifully, you got her a glass of orange juice, only for her to knock it to the floor, watching it shatter without so much as a sip. Now, you carefully pick up the sharp fragments, trying not to cut yourself.

Her voice rang out again, shrill and impatient. You replied reluctantly, fully aware that hearing your name from her lips rarely brought anything good "Yes, I'm coming!"

Descending the stairs, you were greeted by an unfamiliar man seated on the couch sipping tea while speaking to your stepmother. The moment his eyes - cold and calculating met yours, a chill ran down your spine. Something was off.

Behind him stood two soldiers, their presence exuding quiet menance. Without warning, at his signal, they raised their weapons and shot your stepmother dead before your eyes.

"Y/n.." The man said, stepping forward. His uniform bores an air of authority, and his eyes, a piercing shade of violet, seemed to see right through you. "I need your ability." You stared at him with question. What ability? You have one?

You avoided his eyes and stared back where the corpse of your stepmother was. The man moved in your direction to keep your eyes on him. "You didn't know? Your father was a honorable man, yet he told you nothing?" You shook your head, stunned.

He sighed, almost amused "My my... You have the power to predict the near future, Y/n. Now that I've freed you from.." his gaze flicked to the corpse "whoever that was to you. I want you to work for me." Suprisingly, you agreed.

The man introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoevsky. He was straightforward, almost unsettlingly so. He admitted having prepared several ways to persuade you, but things had turned out far easier than he anticipated.

As your childhood home burnt to the ground, You felt little attachment to the ashes left behind. Without your father, it had never truly felt like home.

┈┈┈┈

"Now that you're with me, I'll teach you to use your ability." Fyodor said, his lips curling to a smile as he lead you to a room in his mansion. The place was old, its hallways cracks and worn, yet some rooms looked oddly well-maintained. The moment you sat on your bed, a strange sensation overtook you. Pain pierces your skull like a hammer blow, your nose bled, and your body collapsed. You fainted.

When you open your eyes, the first thing you saw was Fyodor sitting by your bedside. "Ah, you're awake. How do you feel?"

"Much better", you replied, though your voice was quiet and hesitant. "Good, rest." His hand gently patting your head. Suspicious of his kindness, you put his hand away and backed of a little. "You said you need my ability, what for?" For a moment, he was silent, simply staring at you with those unnerving eyes. That act creeps you out. Then, he stood and turned toward the door. "You'll find out soon enough." Before leaving, he added "You'll understand."

That night, sleep evaded you. Creaking footsteps echoed from above and around your room. A constant reminder of guards patrolling the mansion. Your mind raced with questions about Fyodor. Cruelty seemed second nature to him. After all, he had ordered your stepmother's death without hesitation.

A voice suddenly whispered from the windows "Shh, over here!" You turned, startled to see a man with white hair and a distinctive fringe. "I'm here to save you, open the window!"

"Save me?" You murmured to yourself, wondered.

┈┈┈┈

The story started to unfold as you encountered Atsushi and the men he mentioned to be detectives from Armed Detective Agency, your ability leading you to dangerous visions and even more dangerous choices.

"So she fled?" Fyodor stood in your room questioning the two guards, eyes scanning the whole place. "W-we didn't hear any sound.. sir- --khoff-" The one who was answering him cough up blood and drop dead soon after, leaving the other trembled in fear. "FIND HER!" Fyodor ordered.

Suddenly, a vision flashed in front of your eyes, you saw Fyodor. "STOP!!" You screamed, frightened Atsushi who was rushing through the bushes. He then stopped. He knew you saw something, as your ability is unstable, he didn't know when it will happen, yet it's better to be cautious. Fyodor is no man to joke with.

And so You returned. On your own.

Fyodor didn't even have to go, you're already here. "What did you see that changed your mind?"

"A lot" you replied "and definitely not worth risking the lives of others." By 'a lot', you mean there will literally be mountains of corpses. You got a hint of his nature and it was wrong for you to follow him back here, but he freed you from that wicked woman. You have mixed feelings about him. Fyodor signaled you to come closer to where he sits. You followed, he pulled you in. "Don't worry, You are in good care."

┈┈┈┈

Months passed. The bond between you and Fyodor grew more complicated. He exploited your ability ruthlessly, yet showed an inexplicable tenderness towards you. His touch lingered, his words carry a weight you couldn't ignore, and his gaze seemed to pierce in your very soul.

The only drawback to using your ability was the toll it took on your body. Prolonged use often left you feverish and drained.

Today was one of those days. You lay sprawled in your bed, feeling as though every ounce of strength had left your body. It was nearly impossible to even lift a finger.

"Y/n! Time to take your medicine." Fyodor called as he pushed the door open. Since aligning yourself with him, you had become something of a criminal, constantly moving from one safe house to another. You had long lost count of how many places you'd stayed in. Fyodor often leaves you behind, disappearing for meetings or visits to members of his mysterious organization. He never shares the details of his plans, brushing off your curiosity with a dismissive "It doesn't concern you."

Now as he sat beside you, you couldn't help but feel conflicted. You'd seen firsthand how easily he sacrificed others, treating them as pawns in his schemes. So why did he bother taking care of you with such apparent concern?

"Y/n, what are you thinking about?" He asked, his piercing eyes scanning your face. You shook your head weakly, unable to answer. He sighed and helped you sit up, his hands steady yet firm. "Your temperature is no joke, can you take this on your own?"

Before you could respond, another vision overwhelmed you. A sudden flash of Fyodor mercilessly killing the members of ADA. Blood, screams and lifeless bodies filled your mind, and it was enough to make your stomach churns. You had only encountered Atsushi and others a handful of times, but their kindness had left an impression. You couldn't bear the thought of them meeting such a cruel fate.

"Y/n! Y/n!" Fyodor's voice broke through the fog of your vision. "Huh..?" Your consciousness wavered as you turned your head towards him. The dizziness hit you like a wave, and you nearly collapsed into his arms. For a brief moment, you thought you saw worry flicker across his face. That couldn't be right, Fyodor, worried? It had to be your imagination.

Without a word, he placed the pills into your mouth. Then, to your surprise, he drank water from the glass and passed it to you through a kiss. You were too weak to resist, and before you could process the intimacy of the act, the medicine was already working its way down your throat.

By the next morning, your fever had broken, and you felt noticeably better. You left your room quietly, your curiosity pulling you toward Fyodor's study. He was asleep, his usual composed expression softened in slumber. You hesitated, unsure whether to disturb him, but the stack of papers on his desk caught your attention. Creeping closer, you skimmed the documents. Your breathe hitched. Among the papers were detailed accounts of your father's death, your personal profile and outlines of Fyodor's larger plans.

And then there were the pills, your medicine. The documents revealed that their side effects weren't a natural result of using your ability but something he had engineered.

"Enjoying yourself, curious cat?" The low, mocking voice made your heart stop.

Before you could react, Fyodor was behind you. His hands pinned you to the desk, his tall frame casting a shadow over you.

"You..." the words caught in your throat. You were powerless, frozen under his control.

He leaned down, his breath warm against your neck as he inhaled deeply. "What a shame, I had hoped you would find those later," he murmured, his voice tinged with disappointment. Without warning, pain seared through you as his teeth sank into your neck. You gasped, the sensation both shocking and terrifying.

"I suppose I'll have to accelerate my plans" He said, pulling back to meet your wide-eyed stare. His fingers tilted your chin up, forcing you to look at him "I've given you everything you wanted, haven't I, Y/n?"

Your gaze dropped to his chest, unwilling to meet his piercing eyes. "Yes.." you whispered.

"Good." His voice softened, almost tender. "Then from today onward, you'll give me what I want."

[blitzsicedcoffee]

Ficlet-Happy New Year Part 2

Search for "Ficlet" under my blog to read Part 1 :)

This one is Mature 16+

Blitz helps Stolas out of the passenger seat of the van, putting a hand over his head so it doesn't hit the top as he climbs out.

Stolas takes a deep breath. It is nice being in Wrath again. Ever since he started his duty as a teen for the Harvest Moon Festival, he's liked how clear the air is compared to the city. Especially at this time of year at night, it's crisp.

"Come on Blitz, Sallie set up over here on the big blanket!", Millie mentioned, grabbing Moxxie's hand to pull him along. Blitz smiles, looking up at Stolas, "Sure you're still up for this?" he asks. Stolas nods, "Of course. It will be...fun".

Sallie waves, greeting everyone with hugs until she gets to Stolas. She looks put off and steps back, pulling on Millie's sweater, "What's he doing here?"

She explains the situation. Sallie's mouth stays agape for a moment then she physically pushes her jaw back up. Walking over to Stolas.

"Your high-er- Stolas, is it? Welcome to rough n tumble ranch", she extends a hand with a smile. Stolas looks to Blitz who's still smiling and takes her hand, her handshake rough as she pulls on his arm.

"Uh-yes, and you are?" he asks and she replies, "Sallie May". He nods in a small bow and she chuckles and walks back over to Millie, they both sit down.

Blitz pulls Stolas onto the large blanket that's strewn about the dirt ground.

"Your seat for the night?" he gestures and plops down, still holding Stolas's hand.

"No..chairs?" he asks and Blitz chuckles, "Not in the country. Come on, it's better for star watching". As he mentions stars, Stolas's eyes widen and he sits down next to him, sitting on his knees with his talons behind him. Blitz puts an arm around his waist, pulling him closer, which makes his position shift to sitting on his butt.

"Oh!" Stolas yells out then chuckles a little as he steadies himself against Blitz.

Blitz points to the sky as Stolas follows his finger, "Look! You can see the whole damn sky out here", he smiles and Stolas focuses his gaze at the moon, a new moon. He takes another deep breath and grabs onto Blitz's arm, squeezing with both hands.

"Hey-hey you okay?" Blitz asks as he sees Stolas's sad frown. "I can't...do anything for the sky. The stars. The moon. I'm just an observer now".

Blitz leans his head against his shoulder, "Well, I've been an observer my whole life. It ain't so bad".

"I guess I'm just...not used to such limitations", he replies solemnly. Blitz takes his chin gently, kissing him softly.

"You are not limited. You are limitless, you always have been. Losing your powers doesn't change shit", Blitz says, caressing Stolas's cheek. Just as Stolas starts to smile from Blitz's tenderness, BOOM. There's a crack from behind the ranch home and a flash of light zooms into the sky, crackling as it spreads it's light.

"My gods, what is that?" Stolas asks, "That's not natural". Blitz laughs, "That's the light show, silly. Just watch the colors". Stolas squeezes onto Blitz's arm again and hides his face behind his back, "Must it be so loud?" Blitz widens his eyes and takes his hand, leading him back to the van.

"What're we doing? We don't have to go home, I can stand it, it's alright", he says as Blitz opens the larger doors, and pulls Stolas into the back seat with him. Then he pushes down the back seats into a large mattress-like position, closing the door.

"Better?" Blitz asks, smiling. Stolas thinks for a moment and realizes it's not nearly as loud as it was, and smiles, "Well....yes. It is. But don't you want to see the lights?" "I can see enough light right here", he says with half lidded eyes, making a bright pink spread across Stolas's face.

Blitz climbs on top of him, straddling him and kisses him languidly, Stolas moaning into it immediately.

"B-blitz won't it be rude to leave the light show?" Stolas asks. Blitz chuckles, "Pretty sure they barely noticed we left. Now shut up that perfect beak and come er'", he soothes as he wraps arms around Stolas's neck, making out with an intensity that makes him catch his breath a few times.

"Is this what New Years typically is?", Stolas asks, so naive to lower class hellborn's traditions in ways that Blitz honestly finds endearing.

"Mhmm, now fuck me. Please. That shirt I picked out is begging to be pulled off and I want to start the year inside you", Blitz replies.