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shadowtriovibes · 1 year ago

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Hi! I absolutely love your fics! I have a little request/idea. Sebastian finds out that MC has a little crush on professor sharp and all of a sudden can’t stand his favorite professor. (His small crush on professor garlick is totally different and super justified)

jealousy, you got me somehow

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG-13

Word Count: 1.7K

Summary: Sebastian finds out about your little crush on a certain Potions master and all of a sudden can’t stand the man. (His small crush on Professor Garlick is, of course totally different and super justified.)

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk. Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side. “You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

Sebastian first finds out about your little preoccupation when he innocently stumbles upon you studying with a group of your fellow Slytherin girls in a quiet corner of the library. Or at least, it was quiet until Nerida Roberts had started to derail your entirely legitimate conversation about the uses of Dittany for an upcoming Potions exam by bringing up Professor Sharp himself.

“He’s just so handsome,” she sighs dreamily. “How am I supposed to focus on what’s going on in my cauldron when he’s standing right across the room looking all brooding and roguish?”

Violet McDowell giggles and adds, “I could listen to him talk all afternoon and I wouldn’t learn a single thing!”

“I suppose that’s why so many seventh-year girls are still taking Potions even if they don’t need it for their N.E.W.T.s,” you murmur.

“Can you blame us?” Violet sighs. “You must admit, he’s quite nice to look at.”

“Of course I think he’s handsome,” you say with a scoff. “Just because I have a boyfriend doesn’t mean I can’t see the man.”

As if on cue, Sebastian comes around the corner carrying a large stack of books on defensive magic and spots the three of you huddled around your Potions notes.

“Good afternoon, ladies,” he says with an easy smile.

Sebastian sets his books on the edge of the table and leans down next to you to steal a chaste kiss while he can. He’s seen relatively little of you this week while you both prepare for exams in classes the other doesn’t have, so not even your late-night study sessions have overlapped.

“Speak of the devil,” Nerida teases.

“Shh!” you whisper. “Enough now.”

“Not keeping secrets from me, are you?” Sebastian asks teasingly as he snags one of the empty seats.

“Of course not,” you demur. “By the way, have you got my Potions notes from last week? I think I mixed them up with yours from Ancient Runes.”

Sebastian chuckles and asks, “Trying to change the subject? I must have walked into something quite scandalous.”

“It’s nothing bad,” Nerida says teasingly. “We were just chatting about Professor Sharp.”

“Oh?” Sebastian asks, surprised. “What’s he done now?”

“Nothing,” Violet McDowell answers. “We were just saying that he’s easily the most handsome professor at Hogwarts.”

“He’s certainly your girlfriend’s favorite,” Nerida says with a smirk.

Sebastian raises a skeptical eyebrow at you, and sure enough, you’re blushing.

“Really?” he drawls. “You have a thing for Sharp?”

“No!” you whine. “I just – I really like Potions class, that’s all.”

“Of course you do,” Violet taunts. “So you can moon over Sharp during his lectures!”

You shoot Violet a threatening look and not-so-gently kick the toe of your boot against her shin underneath the table. She yelps and curses under her breath before indignantly burying her face behind her Potions textbook, and Nerida wisely avoids eye contact and doesn’t offer anything further.

After a beat, Sebastian clears his throat and says, “Well then, I, er… suppose I’ll leave you girls to it.”

He helps himself to one more kiss goodbye and you can tell by the significant look he gives you before leaving that this is not the last you’ll hear from him about your crush.

Sure enough, a few nights later the two of you manage to claim a loveseat by the fire in your common room where you can curl up against his side and revise your Potions notes one last time before your exam while Sebastian dutifully transcribes runic diagrams onto lengths of parchment.

“Are you feeling prepared for your exam tomorrow?” he asks you casually.

“I think so,” you answer. “It’s not a practical, so I can’t imagine it will be too challenging.”

“You’re sure you won’t become too affected by Sharp’s dulcet tones and neglect something important?” he asks with a smirk.

Annoyed, you huff and abandon your notes at your side.

“You’ve been waiting several days to bring this up again,” you grumble. “I should’ve known I wasn’t safe.”

“What?” he laughs. “I’m just teasing you, love.”

You narrow your eyes at him skeptically. “I’m not sure I believe you.”

“Well, it’s just… I don’t really know what you see in him, that’s all,” he murmurs, lazily turning a page in his Ancient Runes textbook.

You frown. “What do you mean?”

“I just think he’s rather foul,” Sebastian says plainly. “He’s impatient, meticulous, he’s clearly got a dark past and I truly don’t understand why all you girls think he’s obviously the most handsome man at Hogwarts. To me, he’s simply average.”

Merlin’s beard, you think. You knew Sebastian wasn’t a fan of Hogwarts’ Potions master, but you had no idea his dislike ran so deep.

“I think he’s a good professor,” you offer quietly. “He’s always been quite helpful to me, especially when I needed to master healing potions, and he saved my life in the Repository.”

“How generous of him,” Sebastian mumbles.

Angrily, you sit up a little straighter and pluck Sebastian’s quill out of his hand so he’ll look at you.

“And what about you?” you demand indignantly. “While we’re on the subject of good-looking professors, I happen to know that you turn into a stammering, blushing fool whenever Professor Garlick is nearby.”

You know for a fact that Sebastian Sallow is not an idiot, which is why it’s all the more frustrating when he tries to deny something you’ve known about for months.

“I do not!” Sebastian protests. “That’s – that’s ridiculous.”

You scoff and roll your eyes. “You are not a subtle person, Sebastian, nor are you particularly good at being punctual, yet somehow you’re never late to the greenhouses.”

“W-well, I’m rubbish at Herbology so I like to make sure I won’t miss anything important,” he lies.

“Maybe you wouldn’t be quite so rubbish if you actually listened to the professor instead of staring at her chest for the entire lesson,” you grumble.

Sebastian goes bright red. Clearly, he had no idea you could see him doing that.

“Look,” he whines. “It doesn’t mean anything, I just think she’s nice to look at is all.”

“And I’m not allowed to think Professor Sharp is handsome?” you counter.

“It’s different,” he insists. “You actually like him, it’s not just an attraction.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” you hiss.

“It means he’s a powerful wizard, a brilliant duellist and he’s a former Auror for Merlin’s sake,” Sebastian angrily confesses. “I couldn’t possibly measure up to that.”

You feel your heart break a little when you realize what this is truly all about – your love’s relentless insecurities, the same ones he’s battled for many years now.

Softly, you ask Sebastian, “Do you actually feel threatened that I might leave you for a professor? We’re seventeen, Seb.”

“It’s preposterous, I know,” he sighs. “But I just… I feel like I could never compete with him.”

“Sebastian,” you croon as you take your hand in his lap. “I want you to listen to me very clearly, alright?”

You wait patiently for him to meet your gaze before you continue.

“As you said, Professor Sharp is impatient,” you agree. “He’s also meticulous, and maybe he does have some darkness in his past. But you also said that he’s a brilliant duelist and a powerful wizard. Do you know who else has all those traits?”

Sebastian swallows nervously and squeezes your hand a little tighter.

“You do, love,” you say softly. “So perhaps the reason I’m fond of him is that he reminds me of you.”

“I’m not an Auror,” he points out a little sullenly. “And I’ve never saved your life.”

“Not yet you aren’t, but we both know that’s why you’re studying for Ancient Runes so much lately,” you say with a fond smirk. “And since I’ve saved your life plenty of times, I’m sure you’ll return the favor someday.”

Wordlessly, Sebastian tugs you against his chest and presses a soft kiss to the top of your head.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs into your hair. “I’m sorry for being such a prat.”

“Apology accepted,” you whisper into his chest. “And I love you too, you fool.”

He holds you close for a while after that, nose buried in your hair while you listen to his slow, even heartbeat through his uniform shirt. When he finally lets you sit up so that he can kiss you properly – not one of those chaste ones from the library – you find yourself halfway in his lap before you even realize you’ve shifted.

For Merlin’s sake, your notes are in a messy pile on the floor now.

You huff and try to climb off of him to gather them up, but Sebastian coaxes you back to him with a single finger on your chin, his eyes firmly fixed on your lips. By the time he’s kissed your frustration away, you can’t even remember what you were supposed to be studying for.

“We should bicker more often,” Sebastian says with a satisfied grin, his lips slightly swollen.

“On that subject, I was just wondering…” you ask him with a teasing smile. “Is there anything Professor Garlick has that I don’t? Should I be worried?”

“Absolutely not,” he murmurs as he flicks open the top button of your shirt. “Truthfully, you both have two very nice things in common.”

“You’re foul,” you tell him simply.

“I meant that you’re both kind-hearted and beautiful,” he says smoothly.

You’re positive that you know exactly what Sebastian meant and appreciate the compliment nonetheless. In fact, he’s being so sweet that you even let him undo a few more buttons while you can take advantage of your seclusion.

The next day during your Potions exam, while your female classmates are undoubtedly slipping in and out of pleasant daydreams about your alluring professor, all you can think about is Sebastian’s lips on your neck and his hand inside your shirt as he’d whispered all sorts of electrifying promises about what he’ll do to you after you turn in your parchment.

It’s a fierce struggle to focus on Dittany of all things with that in the back of your mind, but Professor Sharp is nevertheless pleased when you end up being the first to submit your completed exam and then promptly excuse yourself from the dungeons.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #professor sharp #aesop sharp #i know i'm supposed to be writing older requests and longer fics #but i was in a funk this weekend (hungover mostly lmao) so i needed to finish something short and sweet #so have some jealousy fluff!

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dont-offend-the-bees · 2 months ago

Text

We Glimpse Each Other Out of Phase

Hello lovelies; rough weekend, huh? I've had this one roughly drafted for a couple of weeks and was planning to keep it in my back pocket as a Deadboyween prompt fill. However, given the cancellation news, I think maybe we could all use a little gentle melancholy comfort right now. So I cleaned it up a bit, and I hope you will take this little snippet as the warm hug it is intended as 💛 So this technically follows on from/is set in the same universe as my Painland Week fic Something I Can Turn To. A fic which I basically intended to leave as a one shot, but I got quite invested in the universe and have been absolutely blown away by the response to it. So it became a collection which now features, as well as my own fic, two wonderful fics by williamvapespeare and one by Ingi, and I would heartily recommend you check them out if you enjoy this story or my original one! That being said, you probably CAN read this without having read the first story, I just wouldn't personally recommend it, you'll be missing a lot of context and backstory! 3.7k, rated T, also available on Ao3 (registered users only!) Part One (Something I Can Turn To) on tumblr

Charles may have had a bit of a rough go of it growing up, but there'd been quiet moments, too. Most of 'em in a rickety old attic, with the only lad in the entire world he could trust with just about anything.

But there were peaceful times at home, too. Safe ones. Mostly at night. Long as he was quiet, didn't cry too loud or stomp about, he could get through eight-ish hours unbothered. Sure, sometimes he had to pace around the room a bit, silent on sock feet just to shake out the excess energy that wouldn't let him sleep but honestly? He bloody loved sleeping. Couldn't get enough of it. Long as he didn't make a fuss, didn't draw attention, he could sink into his bed in the cellar room and just sort of... bob out of his life for a bit. Like a smoke break, but better for his health. If he was dead lucky, he'd even stumble into Edwin's arms in his dreams; pass the time there 'til morning, when it all kicked off again.

So it wasn't easy, getting used to night shifts. It was a fair trade-off for all the other freedom in his life lately but bloody hell, did it sting a bit, losing that time. That dark, quiet nothing where he could be nothing, too, just for a bit. There was almost something sacred about it. Something he hadn’t known was important to him ‘til it was gone.

At least the night shift was pretty quiet, usually. Most of the people who needed to use a gym at two in the morning weren't exactly there to socialise. Charles' job pretty much amounted to half-dozing at reception and handing someone a towel now and then. He'd not had many nutjobs to deal with or fires to put out.

Then again, maybe a good disaster was what he needed just to stay awake. Christ, he was shattered. Took him a good few tries to get the key in the lock when he finally staggered home.

Charles was sad — but not surprised — to find the kitchen light on when he fell through the door.

He rolled his eyes. "Honey," he called, jokingly, the endearment all funny and wrong on his tongue. He'd call Edwin a lot of things — mate, love, best friend, fucking soulmate — but honey? Mingin'. "I'm home."

Edwin's reply was half a second too slow — textbook Edwin guilt response. Like when your cat didn't jump off the counter fast enough to pretend it hadn't been there in the first place. "Good evening, Charles."

"Good morning, more like," said Charles, drawing the bolts — all three of them — across and dropping his bag in a sloppy heap by the door. His coat came next, then each shoe, leaving a trail behind him as he stumbled towards the voice. The hallway felt too short and dark to be called a hallway, really. Looked more like a cupboard where someone had shoved a load of loose doors they had lying around. There was one to the kitchen, one to the bathroom, one to the bedroom that was basically also their living room. Plus a bunch of other weird little cupboard doors and hatches and grates and things, none of which led to anything you’d logically expect them to. It was a shambles, really. A 'paint it magnolia and fob it off on the students' sort of ruin. But it was home. Even bone-tired, he still found the energy to lock gaze with the weird eye-motif lamp Edwin had picked up somewhere and put on one of the non-shelves, and give it his customary wink. Felt wrong not to. Unlucky, somehow.

A fanlike halo of yellow light spread across the hallway carpet as he pushed open the kitchen door. He found more or less what he'd expected to find behind it. Edwin: sat prim and proper at the scuffed-up little table, surrounded by books and doing a bang-up impression of someone with no bloody idea what time it was. His chin, tucked elegantly behind his curled knuckles in that little thoughtful pose of his, lifted at the sound of the door. His eyes found Charles and narrowed, just a little, sketching a pleased little crinkle or two at the corners.

"Charles," he greeted once again, voice softer this time. "How was your shift?"

Edwin hadn't had those laugh lines when Charles had met him. Seeing as he was twelve, and not exactly full of reasons to smile. Charles wasn't gonna take full credit for them, or anything, but... well, not many other people putting in the legwork, were there?

He dragged in a breath and let it out again, sharply, puffing it out in a raspberry. "Same old."

Charles crossed the kitchen in about three steps (it wasn't a big kitchen), clocking Edwin's book of choice on the way. Some textbook with a long-winded title that basically translated to lawyer gubbins. He put a hand on Edwin's shoulder — and Edwin tilted his head easily, offering his cheek for a kiss. Charles grinned and pressed one to the tail end of one of those little lines.

"Burning the midnight oil?" asked Charles, nicking one of Edwin's favourite expressions. He always seemed to pick up the ones that made him sound about a hundred years old.

Edwin hummed, carefully noncommittal. "I must have lost track of time."

"Could've counted these, for a start," said Charles, tapping the little saucer on the table. It was piled high with used teabags, like some damp and deranged game of Jenga. "Might've given you a clue."

"I've been rather busy," Edwin sniffed, turning the page in his book. "Lots of swotting to be done before my lecture on Monday."

"Right, that's what this is, is it?"

"What else would it be?"

Charles reached out, pinched the book Edwin was reading at the centre, and slid it out of the bigger, decoy book he was holding with its cover facing out. "Oldest trick in the book, mate. Literally," he grinned. He lifted Edwin's secret reading into his arms, having a flip through. "Y'know, most people only pull that move when they've got dirty mags to hide.”

Edwin cleared his throat. Even in the dim light of the table lamp, Charles clocked the embarrassed flush on his cheeks. "Well," he said, setting the law textbook he absolutely wasn't reading on the table. "It does get rather draining, this intensive focus on one subject. I felt the need for a brief diversion."

Charles closed the secret book, glancing at the cover. "Anthropology, again. Like that one, don't you?"

"Hm. There's much to explore; it encompasses a rather broad area of study." Edwin took it back and slid it, sheepishly, behind the pile of other law volumes stacked at his elbow. "It's a fascinating subject."

"Should've applied for it," said Charles, gentle. He rubbed Edwin's shoulder absently — getting a little more intent when he felt Edwin melt a bit, his knotted muscles loosening under Charles' digging thumb. "Or any of the other five million bloody things you're interested in. Y'know, 'stead of the one thing you're not."

"I am interested in it!" Edwin blustered.

Charles raised an eyebrow at him.

Edwin sighed. "I am," he said, bit quieter. "It's just not all I'd like to be doing. But it was the right choice, of that I'm quite certain."

Charles sighed and stepped around him, coming to lean on the table, arms crossed. Their eyes met across the short distance. "Look. If you say it's alright, it's alright. I'll believe you, mate, honest I will."

He nudged Edwin's toe with his own, sock to holey sock. "But, y'know. Not for nothing, but at school you was always going on about all that stuff you wanted to do. Bloody... archaeology in Peru, and whatever else. Just don't see how a law degree gets you there, is all."

Edwin leaned back in his chair a bit, steepling his fingers. "Well, no. No, it doesn't get me to Peru; or Pompeii, or Patagonia —"

"Or anywhere beginning with a 'p'," Charles teased.

Edwin's lips twitched up in a little smile. "But it will get us somewhere. A great many somewheres, I imagine. As degrees go, it opens rather a lot of doors."

Charles cocked his head, squinting fondly. "'Us'?"

"Obviously, Charles," said Edwin, with a dismissive wave of his hand. Like a reality where he didn't bring Charles wherever he went wasn't worth considering.

Charles grinned, ducking his head.

"I'm sure you'll chastise me for my cynicism," Edwin continued, oblivious to Charles and his soppy moment. "But... Well, given the somewhat rocky beginnings you and I have encountered in life, I thought it best to..."

"What? Play it safe?"

"Yes," said Edwin. Firm, unapologetic. "Exactly. Because I would very much like for both of us to be safe in life, Charles."

"We are! Well," Charles shrugged, scratching at his nose with a wince. Still ached a bit sometimes, all told, even though the break was years ago. "We are now."

"And I would like for it to stay that way."

"It will!" Charles half-perched on the table, and nudged Edwin's leg with his big toe. "I'll look after us, won't I?"

Edwin looked up at him, and his eyes softened. Fuck, but he had the kindest bloody eyes — least when he turned them on Charles he did. His hand landed on Charles' knee, gentle as you like; rubbing small circles with his thumb like Charles had done on his shoulders.

"You've done more than enough already, Charles," he said, looking him dead in the eye; not letting him hide for anything. "It's only fair I look after you, too, now and again. Especially when it's within my power to do so."

Charles laughed, a thin, hitching sort of thing. His eyes felt all prickly. Fuck, he couldn't go crying on him, now — his eyeliner'd smudge everywhere, it'd be so obvious.

"Look after me," he mimicked, catching Edwin's hand in his, stealing it all for himself. "You gimme a bloody reason to wake up in the morning, mate. What else d'you need?"

Edwin opened his mouth, brows going all scrunched up like they did at the start of a concerned lecture. Charles ducked in and shushed him quicksharp with a kiss.

"Not saying I'm about to, like, off myself if you chuck me, or anything," he laughed against his lips, fondness glowing in the grate of his ribs like smouldering coals. He chased the kiss with a smaller one, to the corner of Edwin's mouth; the scratchy dusting of his five o'clock shadow. "I'd just wallow about being proper depressed, so. Don't chuck me, please?"

Maybe he was clinging a little too hard for his tone of voice. Maybe he was giving it all away in the hands — always such desperate, grasping fucking things. Always his problem, the hands. How they grabbed things, hit things, did things before his brain always had the chance to catch up. How long 'til Edwin got sick of Charles hanging onto him like a life raft, dragging him down with his dead weight? How long 'til the bones in Edwin's hands started to creak from being clutched too tight?

But Edwin just scoffed, quietly — completely failing to hide that little spark of humour in his eyes. "I hardly think that's a possibility, Charles," he said, lifting his other hand to pat the back of Charles'. His soft fingertips kissed feather-light against Charles' grazed, calloused knuckles. "Honestly,” he sighed, dramatically. “Here I sit, talking about the devastatingly boring career I'm attempting to get off the ground in order to keep you in the manner to which you've become accustomed, and you think I'm about to chuck you."

He shook his head, crow’s feet crinkling and bloody hell. Charles loved him so much it felt overwhelming, sometimes. Like he needed a whole extra heart in his chest just to store it all.

Charles kissed Edwin's hand and flopped, happily, onto his lap, grinning at the mild ‘oof’ it shoved out of him. Grinning even wider when Edwin's other arm wrapped around Charles’ waist without a second thought. Edwin was a bit picky about personal space, for good reason — not with Charles, though. Charles had a standing invitation and he put it to bloody good use.

"Bet you could make a weird job work for you too, y'know," said Charles, dropping his next peck to Edwin's forehead as he sank into his lap. His head felt heavier already; only thing keeping him going was the effort of holding himself upright. Draped over Edwin like a blanket, he could've just dozed off right then and there. But the kitchen chair was creaking threateningly, so. Probably a bad idea. "I know the weird stuff's usually more competitive and that, but you're that smart. You'd run rings round the others, mate, get ahead of the game."

He flung his arms round Edwin's shoulders, scratched at the back of his head, the hair at his nape. It was a little longer than Edwin liked it. He needed a trim. So did Charles, really; his racing stripes had grown out and he kept having to blow stray curls out of his eyes. But they were saving their pennies any way they could. "You could go do something interesting, something a bit barmy," said Charles. "Something with a bit of adventure, yeah? Or at least where you get to have your nose in interesting books all day. You'd love that."

Edwin sighed, resting his cheek against Charles' shoulder as his eyes drifted shut. "That does sound compelling. But I've rather made my bed, Charles; I’ve no money coming in at all if I don’t study for it. And it is interesting, in moderation. Besides, it..."

"What?"

"It seems... like a decent thing to do." The warm weight of Edwin's arm squeezed Charles' waist. "Something I could do a modicum of good with."

Charles heard a rustle, and glanced over his shoulder. Edwin's other hand was flicking through the law book on the table, clever fingers finding the module he wanted without even checking the contents. Charles had to squint at it a moment, his exhausted eyes skittering off the page. He thought he saw 'human' and 'rights' in that word soup of a title.

He softened. "Eds..."

"I merely thought..." Edwin made a little noise of frustration in his throat, angling his face further into Charles. Speaking so soft it almost got lost in his skin, words lodging small and timid in his bones. "So many years, Charles. Trapped at the mercy of other people, no one caring if we lived or died, I... I could do something about it. Learn the right words to say, the right arguments, the right resources. So no one else need..."

Sometimes it fucking killed Charles, that there were people out there who thought Edwin was some... some selfish, spoiled rich toff with no feelings. As if he wasn't the kindest bloody person in the world; as if he hadn't had to carve that kindness out himself with his bare, bleeding hands.

Edwin sniffed. “It was just an idea,” he mumbled. “A silly idea.”

Charles shook his head, stroked Edwin's hair. "S'not a silly idea, love. Not silly at all."

Edwin never struggled to find his words like this — and he definitely didn’t mumble them. Words were his weapons, and he could go toe-to-toe with the best of 'em, talk bloody circles 'round his opponents.

Charles looked from him to the stack of books, the tower of teabags. The plastic clock on the wall, its hands marching on into the morning.

"Aw, mate," he said, rubbing the back of Edwin's neck — and dropping a kiss to the top of his head. "You're dead on your feet, in’t you?"

"I'm perfectly fine," Edwin grumbled. "And I've tests to study for —"

"Tests in subjects you're not bloody taking? Yeah, right." Charles bit his lip, cuddling Edwin's head against his chest. "Can't sleep, can you?"

Edwin was quiet a moment, breathing nice and steady into Charles' throat.

"It's still... difficult," he said.

Three door bolts and four hundred miles was a start, but bad memories had a way of following you about. Charles closed his eyes and breathed in, nice and slow; hoping Edwin could feel it in his chest, find a nice rhythm in his rising ribs.

"Edwin," he said, nuzzling into his hair. "On my life, mate — one of these days, you and me are gonna be so bloody set you'll be able to do whatever you want. Go back to uni fifty times, hundred times, don't care. Study for the rest of your life, if you want.” He tapped Edwin’s temple. “Cram everything that's ever interested you in that big brain of yours. Promise you."

It shouldn't've felt like taking a bloody knight's oath, whispered words at the kitchen table at stupid o'clock in the morning. But Christ, he'd fought off enough dragons to get ‘em here, hadn’t he?

He felt Edwin's smile against his skin, followed by the little dry brush of his kiss. "You could, too. If you liked," he said. "Get your A-levels, apply for university..."

Charles laughed, shaking his head. "Not sure I could keep up."

"Charles," Edwin admonished, in that stern teacher voice that was cuter (and fitter) than it had any right to be. "You're exceptionally bright."

"Ah, come on, mate," Charles mumbled, squirming. Edwin's arm round his waist locked as if it could sense an escape attempt incoming.

"You are. I remember your grades, before... well. Everything that occurred." He smoothed down the collar of Charles' fuck-ugly work shirt. "It's hardly your fault your final years went awry as they did. You could go back, take some courses at the local college. Try again."

"Right, sure."

Edwin huffed, frustrated. "I'm being quite serious, in the event that wasn't obvious."

"When aren't you?" Charles chuckled. He stared at the wall, at the stupid fucking boyband calendar their kooky upstairs neighbour gave Edwin for Christmas. Most of the writing on it was Edwin's, neat and tiny, scheduling tests and lectures and study blocks. Most of Charles' additions were just the word 'WORK', scribbled in on scattered days — more so Edwin knew when he was coming and going, rather than for his own benefit. Always different days, different times. Shift work; no chance to form a routine. He was never great at that, anyway.

"Not even sure what I'd do," he mumbled.

Edwin's palm on Charles' waist rubbed, soothing, grounding. "You never had something you wanted to study?" he asked. "Something you wanted to go into?"

"I..." His brow furrowed. It was so hard to think, sometimes. About times before now. Like all those bloody miserable years just blended into this mush of dread and misery. "I dunno what I wanted," he admitted. "Couldn't... couldn't think that far ahead, could I? I just wanted my mum to be alright. Wanted my dad to think I was worth something. Wanted not to hurt anymore."

He sniffed, and laughed, a watery sort of sound. His arm around Edwin's shoulders squeezed.

"Only thing I ever wanted and got back then was you," he said, flippant, like it didn't really matter. 'Cause it didn't really, did it? Wasn't some big confession or anything. Some deep, dark secret. Edwin knew. They both knew.

But Edwin breathed in sharply, a little ragged round the edges, so maybe he needed reminding now and again. "Charles..."

"Fuck," Charles chuckled, releasing Edwin so he could lean back and rub his eyes — so Edwin wouldn’t have his ear to Charles’ heart when it started beating too fast. "I'm shattered, mate. Dunno what I'm even saying anymore, do I?"

Maybe one of these days, he’d stop being too scared of the fucking size of his own feelings to sit with them a moment.

Maybe they both would.

Edwin sighed, pulling his hand from Charles' waist to pinch at the bridge of his own nose. "I suppose it has gotten rather late." He glanced at the clock, and winced. "Early. You should go and sleep. I'm sure you've had a long day."

Charles hummed, leaving his nice warm spot in Edwin's lap — but his hands didn't leave his shoulders. "C'mon, then," he mumbled, giving them a squeeze. "Bed."

"Better to go without me. I shan't sleep tonight."

"Didn't say anything about sleeping, now, did I?"

Edwin raised his eyebrow.

Charles' brain caught up to his mouth, and he laughed. "Ah — love to, darlin', but. Yeah, seriously, I'm fucking knackered. I meant, like — let's just have a bit of a cuddle, yeah?" He tugged at Edwin's collar where it poked out of his nice green jumper. It was a little crooked — Edwin must've really got into a study groove and unfastened a button or two. Fit as. "I proper fancy a cuddle."

"I'll be restless," said Edwin, all apologetic. "I'll only keep you awake."

Charles hummed, picking up the anthropology textbook and holding it out.

"Keep on reading, then," he said, giving Edwin the big, hopeful eyes he bloody knew he could never say no to. "Just... come read to me instead, yeah?"

Edwin had another dramatic sigh, like it was all such a big ask. He ought to tell that to his fucking smile lines. He took the book — and Charles' hand. "Well. I suppose I can manage that."

Charles didn't know how long Edwin stayed awake, in the end. Could've been hours for all he knew, he'd have had no idea — Charles had been asleep in bloody seconds. Head pillowed on Edwin's shoulder, that gorgeous voice rattling off dry old text blocks and making them sound like spoken-word lullabies... how could he resist?

All he knew was when he woke up, it was eleven in the morning, the sun was slanting through the crooked blinds; and Edwin was snoring softly underneath him. His hair a mess, his textbook open on his chest. His arm a slack, warm weight around Charles' shoulders.

Charles smiled, rubbed his dry eyes — forgot to scrub off his eyeliner before he konked out, again. Classic — and settled back in, nestling safe and sound into the the crook of Edwin's arm. Fuck it. It was Saturday. He'd asked Crystal to pick up his shift today, anyway, so him and Edwin could get a little quality time in.

If all they did with that time was sleep, well. Time well spent, innit? It wasn't like a smoke break from life when he did it with Edwin, anyway.

More like... stepping back to enjoy the view.

Thanks for reading my loves, I hope it soothed the ache somewhat 💛 This has been a strange little one because I've essentially had to take something I very much wrote as a one-shot, and build onto what I established. When I wrote that first one-shot I didn't even have a clear idea in my mind for what Edwin was studying or anything! So things will likely change and grow and develop and who knows where we'll end up, but it's nice to see the lads figuring it out alongside me ^_^ Thanks for reading guys! It's been a bit of a long silence from me since Painland Week ended but I promise I'm working on stuff, including the next chapter of Lonely Bones! Regardless of what has happened to the show or whether it gets picked up or not, my plan is to keep writing and creating for it for as long as it sparks joy to do so - and seeing as I've made some amazing friends in this fandom, I think I'm gonna be here a while! I sure hope you guys are, too 💛 (p.s. if you are over 18, trustworthy with semi-secret identities, and like weird rarepair smut, feel free to DM me for my side Ao3 that I'm sure will be getting some action over the next few months xD)

#dead boy detectives #dbda #payneland #charles rowland #edwin payne #my fanfic #verse: i want something just like this #i have been writing this one in short snatches of downtime so it might not be my most cleanly edited!#i'm sure i will be finding typos for weeks lmao #but it's been such a glum weekend to be a DBDA fan i wanted to stop by and give y'all a little something 💛#love you guys #thanks you so much for all your lovely comments on ao3 #there's so many i still have to get back to!!

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sage-nebula · 2 months ago

Text

It happened, as things so often did, like a bolt from the blue on one of Pacifica's rare days off from work at the diner.

It was the height of summer and so hellaciously hot, even for—no, especially for Oregon. Having lost access to the private pools and yachts after her father's investments into Cipher capital during Weirdmageddon four years prior, Pacifica found herself at the Gravity Falls community pool, lounging on a pool chair after layering SPF 50 on her skin, and silently telling herself over and over that it was always morally correct to block her parents' numbers on her days off, and that her father probably hadn't yet found where Pacifica's pet rescue opposum, Susanna, had hidden the bell yet, so there was no need to worry.

(Pacifica had rescued Susanna from the diner kitchen two summers ago, when she was fourteen. Susanna was technically a male oppossum, but something about him reminded Pacifica of Lazy Susan, so Susanna he was.)

But it was at that moment that deep laughter followed by a higher pitched "shut up!" and even more laughter from both voices broke through Pacifica's inner mantras. She opened her eyes to see that both of the Pines twins, having once again made their yearly visit to Gravity Falls, had also chosen to visit the pool that day.

Pacifica swallowed hard.

For all that she had tried to deny it even to herself in her tween and early teen years, by now Pacifica had long since accepted that she found Dipper Pines attractive. It was impossible not to, with the way he came back taller each summer, his shoulders increasingly more broad as he grew into the physique promised by his great uncles (or his Great Uncle Ford, anyway), a little stubble that he "forgot" to shave always left around his chin, and his sideburns. Oh, his sideburns. Pacifica hated how much she loved Dipper's sideburns. It was beyond cringe, and the only other living soul who would ever know about her crush was Susanna, but Pacifica Northwest did indeed have a crush on Dipper Pines. She knew, and accepted, this about herself.

But then, on that hellaciously hot summer day at the community pool, Mabel Pines took her sweater off right in front of Pacifica's eyes.

Mabel pulled her sweater up over her head, and it was as if time slowed down. Mabel's arms were just as toned and strong (if not maybe a little more toned, the way the sunlight hit her muscles) than Dipper's. She had been wearing a bikini under her sweater—a pink one decorated with stars that fit her perfectly—and her thousand watt smile revealed she'd finally gotten her braces off to reveal a set of dazzling teeth. And when she tugged her hair free from her ponytail, it swished around her in a cascade of long, brown waves.

Dipper had thrown his tanktop onto a pool chair, and Mabel followed suit, throwing her sweater and hair tie on top of Dipper's shirt. But as Dipper was in the middle of saying something (they were too far for Pacifica to hear clearly), Mabel whipped back around with devilish speed and shoved him straight in the pool.

Mabel laughed uproariously as Dipper came back up for air, sputtering water and shaking his sopping bangs from his eyes. But he was only off guard for a second, and Mabel's mirth kept her off hers for longer. Dipper grinned wickedly and snapped his fingers around Mabel's wrist, yanking her in headfirst after him. Just as Dipper had before her, Mabel resurfaced immediately, though she had to use both hands to shove her curtains of damp hair out of her face. But her smile was just as impish as Dipper's own, and within seconds they were splashing each other, shrieking and laughing as they caused the biggest ruckus the pool had seen all day.

And as she watched them play, the water making their skin glisten and their smiles making their eyes sparkle, Pacifica felt a swarm of butterflies in her gut and a flash of heat in her face that had nothing at all to do with the summer sun above. She curled in on herself in her pool chair, and tugged her sun hat down over her face.

"Oh no."

#gravity falls #pacifica northwest #dipper pines #mabel pines #dipifica #mabifica #dipcifica #mabcifica #mystery twins #i'm a bisexual pacifica truther #she crushes on both dipper AND mabel but would rather die than admit it #if they found out i think dipper would tell mabel to date her bc he wants his sister to be happy #mabel would suggest they share her #''you have her mondays and wednesdays. i'll have her tuesdays and thursdays. and we do every other weekend! friday counts as a weekend.''#''mabel that's weird!''#''it works for mom and dad's custody agreement!''#''pacifica's not our child! besides we can't both make out with the same person. that'd be too close to kissing each other.''#''ewww what?! how?!''#''because if your spit is in her mouth and then i—nope no nu-uh not thinking about this.''#''ugh you're so GROSS dipper. not to mention immature. how is this any different than when we shared sodas as kids? i KNOW you backwashed.'#''PACIFICA IS NOT A SODA AND YOU CAN'T PROVE THAT''#''I HAD TO SPIT OUT A PIECE OF FRENCH FRY YOU HAD CHEWED''#''I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT THIS ANYMORE''#''FINE!!!''#anyway Mabel's plan even if implemented (and it wouldn't be bc of Dipper's veto) would fail bc she can't actually share a partner #as demonstrated in Boyz Crazy she gets jealous very quickly and would want Pacifica to herself #so ultimately Pacifica would have to choose. which she won't do. bc a.) she won't admit to any of this #(at least not at age 16)#and b.) she thinks they're so hot her brain short circuits and she literally CAN'T choose #fic fix

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that-foul-legacy-lover · 9 months ago

Text

listen listen... imagine if you will, making a little Foul Legacy plushie.

you use whatever free time you have to sew a tiny, soft version of your favorite Abyssal moth, giving him little fabric horns and embroidered paw pads and little stars in his eye, small enough to grasp with one hand but big enough to squeeze and hug. the plush takes several weeks since you're busy most of the time, but finally you complete it, holding it behind your back as you approach Legacy, who tilts his head and trill curiously at your excitement. without a word you whip out the plush and Legacy squeaks in delighted shock, carefully taking it from your hands and turning it over, looking at the fabric doll from every angle and poking it gently with his claws; two Foul Legacies staring happily at each other

the plushie quickly becomes one of his most prized possessions, bringing it wherever he wants to nap or doze and keeping it carefully perched on a pillow at other times. Legacy treats it so delicately- it's a piece of art, after all- immediately bringing the tiny fabric version of himself to you if he spots any lose threads or tears. the plush joins you for any snuggles, usually held in your arms as Foul Legacy hugs you to his chest- sometimes you bring Legacy-plushie's paws up to give Foul Legacy a high five. and sometimes, when you've been having a particularly bad week, you'll open your bag and find a little fluffy plushie in there, carefully positioned to be facing you with its goofy little grin, and you smile a little bit, too.

#genshin impact #childe #tartaglia #gi ajax #foul legacy #foul legacy childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin childe #genshin tartaglia #genshin x reader #childe x reader #i am in a crafting mood since i started painting a prop last weekend #and AND hopefully i have a plushie on the way soon eheheh #fingers crossed since i got it online and i always am nervous when i order something online #it's so easy for things to get lost in the mail and i am always nervous #so hopefully it gets here with no problem #short scenario #wifi's brainrot #good evening

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thatdeadaquarius · 1 year ago

Note

I was playing Genius Invocation yesterday, but out of nowhere this idea came to me like tge whispers of an old god.

How would the characters react to knowing they are the creator's favorite card? (Mine are Beidou and Ningguang, but if you are confortable, I would like to know yours as well)

AHDAALLL I HAVENT PLAYED TGI CARD GAME ENOUGH!! SO FOR NOW I RLLY LOVE THE WAY CYNO AND KAEYA'S ART LOOKS (tho diluc does look shmall in his hehe)

Thank you for your patience!! Sorry this is SO FUCKING late :0 and if it’s bad! i havent rlly liked my writing the past couple pieces, so i stuck with some fun headcanons i thought of while kicking me feet and twirling my hair over this question hehehe

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them only)

Planet: General SAGAU/Isekai Stuff :)

Orbit: Headcanons

Stars: Beidou, Ningguang, Kaeya, Cyno

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing & Trigger Warnings: None Known.

☆

Beidou:

BIGGEST EGO BOOSTS OF HER LIFE LMAO

SHE WOULD LITERALLY SUBTLY FLEX EVERYTIME UR AROUND IM CRYINGGG

Every fucking port knows she’s a favored one, every goddamn pirate knows it atp, hell maybe even some abyss monsters at sea too-

(Kazuha’s happy for her, but also lowkey jealous)

literally got one of her cards framed and hung in her captain’s quarters, and insisted you sign it omfg-

Ningguang isnt surprised tbh, (she knows u like strong women lol)

Ningguang:

…she gives one of the most smug smirks of her entire fucking life.

All of Liyue is gushing for her, not that she isn’t also excited on the inside, she’s just more proud than anything on the outside/for appearances

Literally set up a whole date meeting that felt like it was about to turn into a goddamn wedding proposal

I’m talking giving handcarved furniture, household necessities but they’re in pretty colors that all match (like a gold tea kettle, gold throw blanket, etc.)

Full nine-yards different kinds of teas, cakes, and all accustomed to your taste

so if u dislike super sweet stuff there are more savory items, the teas can be more bitter, or if u love sweets, this woman is giving you a bakery basically every day for nearly 2 weeks, u dont have enough space in the cabinet for all these teas- help-

Kaeya:

so fucking smug on the outside, def brags about it in Angel’s Share and he’ll only just be tipsy he’s so fucking excited to talk abt it

whenever conversations end or get a lull, he just, “So anyway, our All-Powerful Guide, really likes my TCG card, maybe even above yours, Diluc…”

pls stop him he’s annoying Diluc, and slowly other patrons 😭 (there are bar rules posted on the wall, and Diluc adds one, not for the first time, specifically for Kaeya to stop talking about TCG while in the bar LMAO)

Now all Kaeya has to do is just pull out his card (cough he’s constantly got it in his pocket, the one he asked u to sign cough)

Rosaria just looks the other way like if she can’t see it it’s not real, Diluc will literally be in the middle of making a drink for one of them and just leave it halfdone and attend to somebody else, Venti’s eye twitches-

and the entire bar just groans too LMAOOO

(have a meme I made just for you <3 )

Cyno:

oh no.

Look what you’ve done, you’ve seduced the General Mahamatra!!

Take responsibility, play TCG with him every time you see him now lmao, the only reason all of Sumeru knows you like his card (which makes it all that more desirable to ppl who do play, and collectors)

is bc he talked to Tighnari about it for hourssss, and then it made it’s way down the grapevine, and if they didn’t find out that way, the other was just seeing the usually stern and formidable General Mahamatra nearly vibrate out of his headpiece when you come near him every time you visit

Cyno weirdly gains like, 20x the luck when ur either playing against him, or sitting watching him play someone else, he’s struggling to find partners tbh bc “you’re my lucky charm? Of course I’m winning more.”

When you initially told him about him being one of ur fav cards, he literally looked like there was a loading sign over his head… Then proceeded to nearly break your ribs hugging you so hard, and nearly take ur eye out with the ears on his headpiece lol

☆

Sorry if all my writings shit for these past 2 posts! Idk im just thinking its not so good rn and idk how to fix it-

anyway I’ve started playing Breath of the Wild over the past like 2-3 months I think, and it’s amazingggg

I may or may not be both getting gender envy and also a huge crush on Link help-

Safe Travels Wandering Lantern,

💀♒

♡the beloveds♡

An iced coffee? For me??

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche

#hello i bring more bad writing #kinda short this time #hope u dont mind #love u guys have a good weekend!!#thank you so much again for the ask and sorry again it was so late!!#genshin sagau #genshin isekai #sagau #genshin imagines #my asks #gender neutral reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin impact isekai #genshin fluff

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fauustic · 1 year ago

Text

the fear of losing this

too many people in my inbox got a little too comfortable asking me for “a fight between reader” as well as “miguel angst please” so i am combining both as i struggle to get through this writer’s block ))

gender-nonconforming reader x miguel “spider-man 2099″ o’hara

angst. little comfort. your universe is falling apart, yet miguel doesn’t want to let you go.

warnings: pure angst. light cursing? i’m not too sure, just lots of tears.

word count: 2211

The night sky of Nueva York shined brightly with the bustle of commute, highly advanced cars whirring softly through the clouds. Your mask hung from your hands at your side, bunched up in the anger that fizzed and popped in your bloodstream– threatening to explode at any given moment as Miguel brushed off your conversation with a stoic chill.

“You don’t understand how important this is to me Miguel–” your voice raised as you paced the highest level of the building, padding against the overly complex structures that mimicked webs. You would have laughed at the irony of having a headquarters so invested in the theme of spiders that even the ground you walk on replicated the symmetry of webs if the both of you were in any other given situation– but that joking persona that came with the gig flew and crashed out the window the moment Miguel brushed off and rejected your plans to return back home. “I need to be there, helping my people. What is the point of me taking up a spot in this ‘fateful–’” You dragged out the words, venom dripping from your tongue as you partially made fun of the organization he spent so much time on. “Spider Society if my own boss doesn’t let me return back to the place I belong in?”

“No, no.” His tone was blunt as he stood as rigid as ever; surveying your every move in a way that you could never guess what he was thinking, with or without the mask. “You don’t understand.” Miguel repeated your own words back to you in a taunt as one of his clawed hands fidgeted with the device that decided whether or not you could walk around or stay in a little bubble for the next week just like all the other prisoners were down below. “You created a problem in your own universe, that’s the problem we’re having here. You cannot fix it.” He practically spat his words, anger emitting from every rhythmic clang whenever he tossed the technology into the air and caught it with calculation. “It doesn’t matter whether or not you’re from that Earth, you put that place you so valiantly ‘protect’ into a state of emergency. Is that not clear enough?”

“Oh, sure– but the hundreds of other spider-people that can’t go one word without making a joke of the situation can fix my mess? Am I just some inexperienced rookie to you, Miguel?” You countered, ripping your gaze from his own. His features were exposed to you as his mask was off as well, the sunken circles beneath his eyes growing prominent when a vibrant car passed by and shone a striking yellow light into the corridor the two of you stood within. His usual expression made of stone chipped away with the stress he was under as a deeper frown made its way onto his lips.

Miguel sighed dramatically before pinching the bridge of his nose, turning away from you to mumble a jumble of incoherency. “God,” He repeats your name like it's a curse, “That’s not what I’m saying at all. It’s just not safe.”

You scoffed, eyes growing wide at the audacity of this man you have to call your boss. “Of course it’s not safe Miguel, that’s our job.” You couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief, pulling at the roots of your hair in any attempt to calm yourself down. “I risked my life every single day in my universe before I even knew of your existence, yet now suddenly I can’t?”

“This is different. For some reason these– these anomalies are running rampant in your world and it’s taking everything to finally have the problem at hand contained.” Miguel held his breath as if he had something more to say, but left it unsaid the moment you stomped closer towards him in a new fit of anger.

You shoved your palm against his chest, baring your teeth as a groan erupted from the back of your throat in a concoction of frustration and despair. “Exactly! That’s exactly the problem, Miguel. My people out there are suffering and fighting for their lives, surrounded by these people that are like me but aren’t me.” Tears began to well up in the corners of your pained gaze, humiliation washing over your consciousness as you sniffled and stifled a sob. Fauxe confidence and quips were something you specialized in, annoying Miguel in a little dynamic the two of you found yourself in as months turned into an entire year of being called in for missions. Emotions were never a thing the both of you have ever discussed with one another because it wasn’t your position to pry and he was never the one to initiate such conversation.

“If you just let me go, I’m more than willing to show you how capable I am.” It came out as a whisper as you turned away from him and began padding down the structural webs. Miguel was on high alert, you could notice as every glance felt as if he was trying to convince himself that no other member of his society occupied this part of Headquarters. He followed you close behind, claws digging into the beams of construction to reach the same floor as you without a word. The brooding silence that usually met your company could be sensed from any person in their right mind, and as you spotted the hesitation in each thud of his footfalls– confusion clouded your anger. So in a flurry of adrenaline, you webbed his next step to the ground with a ball of the substance you artificially produced in the depths of your makeshift and cozy lab, hidden away at your home in the world you desperately needed to save. It would give you time to finally just talk to him.

“¿Eres estúpido o qué? Do that again and I’m putting you in the–”

It wasn’t to hold him down, you know you couldn’t match his strength. It was to make a statement.

You interrupted him, a newfound determination holding onto the little hope you had. “You follow me for one more second, I’m going through that portal and never looking back.” Brutally honest and uncharacteristically serious, the attempt at ripping his limb free was cut cold at the promise looming in the air. His frown fell for just a moment’s notice, mouth agape in shocked horror before quickly recovering himself. Repeating yourself more clearly as his attention was occupied, your body shined away while shaky fingers struggled to input the coordinates of your universe. But eventually it clicked, the AI voice of Miguel’s beloved Lyla sounded throughout the tension in a glitchy mess– notifying Miguel of the portal to-be seconds before it truly distorted the fabrication of reality in front of you.

Miguel dropped to his knees, struggling to claw off the web that had his foot planted to the structure. His breath quickened concerningly, shoulders heaving as the plan of his crumbled in front of him in an instant; all because he was not observant enough. You played him like an instrument like you always had, a pained groan from the back of his throat sounded and echoed throughout the space of the vast headquarters. “No, no, no..” He repeated, mirroring the despair you had on your features moments ago at the idea of not being able to save your people. You could never once recollect a fraction of a second where he allowed himself to convey the pain plaguing his mind, and as he reached out to you in a frantic heap of limbs– the walls of protection he hazardously built around himself came crumbling down by each shape contorting and twisting into a gateway to your world. “I can’t, I can’t lose anybody else–”

You stood there, heart breaking as the man who has had villains three times your size on their knees, collapse into fragments of himself at the mere idea of you leaving the security of his universe. Bursts of color painted the dark hues blotching upon white, igniting his fresh-tear stained cheeks in splashes of reds and yellows and greens. The portal was completely open, awaiting your entrance to return back to your familiarity– yet your senses buzzed alarmingly at each step away from Miguel. It’s almost as if you could feel the hole in his chest, searing away his soul he finally allowed himself to offer like a god’s offering.

You fell to your knees to hold his face in your suited hands, the waves of sorrow and grief infesting your mind like a sickness almost had you doubling over in pain. You could hear the cries of hundreds around his, no– your own heavy breathing, a confused and fearful little girl’s pleas for help overlapping the muddled screams. You felt the weight of a child in your hands before it was ripped away like a paper airplane in the wind, and soon your trembling hands met the purchase of his nape. Your body moved automatically, holding his face in the comfort of your lap while you shielded his gaze from the portal. Despite his power, the capability to snap you in two, you held him like a fragile doll that would break within any mishap.

“All this time, you never told me.” You sobbed into his hair, dampening his combed back curls with your tears and he only held your waist like you were the anchor in this unforgiving ocean of anguish. You have become one, the memories of his own mixing into the blur of yours's.

“I didn’t know how to.” He murmured into the purchase of your thigh, wetness seeping into your suit. But you didn’t care as your hands wandered all over his figure: a soft massage to the shoulders before quickly scooping his neck into your arms before finally settling on petting his hair back. “I, I haven’t allowed you to go to your world because a part of my thoughts can imagine your arms fading into a technicolor mess, falling into the clutches of another failed universe.” He forced himself to take a deep breath, gulping up air as the portal behind the both of you fizzled and popped.

“I can’t lose you too. I’d be so–” He hesitated, breathing in deeply just to choke on a sob. “I wouldn’t know what to do with myself.” He poured out the burdens weighing on his conscience, confirming your long-forgotten wonder that he was just as emotional when he was faced with his grief head-on; the same intensity seen in his short-tempered anger.

You simply hushed him, cooing reassurance that he accepted with greed. “Nothing is going to happen to me.” The rational fear being expressed aloud made your shoulders shake and head buzz with anxiety, but you steeled yourself at the reminder of Miguel melting into your tearful embrace like putty. You needed to be strong for him when he wasn’t, just like how he pushed himself to the greatest extent his body can endure all the times before.

“It’s just, I can’t lose where I come from.” You worked at ridding his foot from your webs as your serene tone accompanied his sniffles, his breathing settling out bit by bit as you continued to finally explain yourself. In regards to Miguel's quietness, you genuinely thought he was listening. “You can’t keep me away and shield me from my own mistakes, O’Hara. It’s just not possible, I need a home to thrive and protect. Without my people, I’m going to disappear as well.” A snap of your webs trapping his limbs finished your little speech, indicating that time was up and you had a job to do.

“I’m.. worried.” He mumbles aloud, like the sentence itself was foreign on his tongue. “These creatures from foreign worlds, they are drawn to your universe as if there’s a pulling force. I haven’t been able to figure it out. It’s so infuriating, it’s like I can’t do–”

You intercept his little tangent as you grab his chin and lift his gaze to meet yours’, an unsaid question hanging into the atmosphere like an old letter to a former self. Do you want this? Is this okay? I’m scared of messing this up.

The question is answered as Miguel’s grasp finds purchase in your flesh, claws digging into your thighs like if he let you go you’d fade along with everything else of his. In a messy, salty clash of teeth against fangs and tongue against lips, Miguel lapped up every inch of your mouth like he had to memorize every crevice of your entire being. It’s as if the two of you have synchronized, being able to suspect slight changes in each other’s mood as he grew more needy with the introduction of desire bubbling against the forefront of your mind.

“We can do this.” You murmured into his cheek, hands dancing over his suit in case this was the last time you’d ever be blessed with his presence again.

Miguel nodded, heaving for breath before he snatched one last kiss– sincere and genuine and full of unfiltered affection. “Yeah,” His nose met the crook of your neck, grazing each curve it stumbled upon.

“Together, mi alma.”

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