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kirammanswifey · 1 day ago

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wedding planning struggles with arcane characters x fem reader

characters: viktor, jinx, vi, caitlyn, jayce, ekko, silco, mel and sevika.

writer's note: did i told you guys that i love this dynamic? because i do, i reaaally do, it's just so comforting describing this kind of mundane and simple problems. i'll exploit this dynamic much more, exciting scenarios are coming. as you already know request are open ;)

marriage proposal link:

Viktor

The excitement of planning your wedding with Viktor fills you with energy. From choosing the flowers to the menu, every detail matters. You've spent hours discussing colors, flavors, and sensations, but lately, you feel like Viktor isn’t sharing your enthusiasm. Today is one of those days when, sitting next to him in the lab, you try to capture his attention.

"Viktor, what do you think about the tablecloths? Do you think we should go with an ivory tone or something more vibrant, like a sky blue?" you ask, flipping through fabric samples.

He barely glances up from his project. "Whatever you prefer, darling."

You sigh and move on to the next question. "And the menu? We have options between a fish dish or meat. Which one do you think the guests will like more?"

"Whatever you decide will be fine," he responds with little interest, his eyes still focused on his work.

Frustrated, you decide to test him. "What do you think about the paper napkins? I was thinking of choosing ones with a floral pink print. Do you like the idea?"

Without looking up, he murmurs, "Yeah, sounds good."

Your patience runs thin. "Viktor! Paper napkins are for picnics, not for our wedding!"

He finally stops, looks at you, clearly confused. "Sorry, I wasn’t paying attention. I was focused on this experiment."

"Exactly, Viktor. You’re always focused on something else. You don’t care about the wedding, do you? No matter what I ask, you always say that whatever I prefer is fine. Does this marriage even matter to you?" The words come out with more force than you intended, but your frustration takes over.

Viktor puts down his tools and turns to face you. "That’s not true. Of course it matters. But you’re better at these things. I trust you to make the right choices."

"It’s not just about making the right choices," you reply, your voice shaking. "I want you to be involved, to do this with me. I don’t want to do it alone."

Viktor rubs his forehead, clearly searching for the right words. "I’ve been involved. I suggested we have the wedding in the Undercity, in the old market where I used to spend my childhood. I wanted that place to have meaning for us. But you refused, you said it was dangerous."

You sit in silence for a moment, processing what he said. "I did it because I want our guests to be safe. Not because I don’t care about what that place means to you."

"I understand, but that was my way of participating, and I felt rejected," he says, his voice low but full of emotion.

Your frustration turns into sadness, and you can't stop the tears from filling your eyes. "Viktor, this is important to me. I just wanted you to feel as excited as I do."

Seeing your tears, Viktor quickly approaches and takes your hands in his. "I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like I don’t care. This marriage means the world to me, just as much as it does to you. If I’ve been distant, it’s just because I sometimes get lost in my work. But I promise to be more present."

You embrace him, feeling the warmth and sincerity of his words. "That’s all I wanted to hear."

He gently strokes your hair, whispering, "We’ll do this together. From now on, I’ll be your partner in all of this, not just in the big things, but in every little detail."

You smile through the tears, feeling the weight of the tension lift. "Thank you, Viktor. I love you."

"And I love you," he replies, his voice filled with tenderness. "I always will."

You both remain in each other's arms, knowing you've found mutual understanding, strengthening your bond and the excitement for the day that is to come.

Jinx

Planning a wedding with Jinx is, to say the least, a roller coaster. You're sitting in your small living room, surrounded by catalogs, fabric samples, and endless task lists. Jinx is on the floor, playing with a knife and tossing it in the air, seemingly uninterested in the process.

"Jinx, can you focus for a second? We need to decide on the wedding theme," you say, trying to get her attention.

She shoots you a quick look, a mischievous smile on her face. "I already told you, we're having a wedding with explosions and fireworks. What else do we need?"

You sigh, trying to stay calm. "Yes, but we need more details. What colors do we want to use? What style of decoration?"

"Colors... hmm," Jinx leans back, holding the knife above her head. "I like blue, you know, like my hair. And pink, because it's fun. How about those?"

"Blue and pink, fine," you say, jotting it down in your notebook. "And about the food? We need to decide on the menu."

Jinx rolls her eyes, clearly bored. "Food? Whatever, something that'll keep them energized to dance all night."

You stop and look at her intently. "Jinx, are you really interested in this? Because I feel like you're not taking any of it seriously."

She sits up quickly, her smile fading a bit. "Of course, I'm interested. It's just... all this planning stuff isn’t really my thing. I like spontaneous things, you know?"

"But this is important to me," you say softly but firmly. "I want it to be special for you too."

Jinx goes silent for a moment, her gaze softening. "Sorry, I didn’t mean for you to think I don’t care. I just have a hard time sitting still and thinking about things so... organized."

You move closer to her, taking her hands. "I know, and I understand. But I want this day to be perfect for both of us. I need your help to make it happen."

She looks at you, her blue eyes shining with sincerity. "Alright, toots. I’ll do it. You just have to guide me a little, okay? I’m not great at this, but if it’s important to you, I’ll do it."

You smile and hug her, feeling her vibrant energy now more focused on you. "Thank you, sweets. It means a lot."

"We’re gonna make this wedding explosive, in a good way," she says, grinning again with that unmistakable spark. "And I promise I won’t blow anything up. At least not too much."

You both laugh, feeling like the planning now has a unique touch, with Jinx’s essence but also with the care and love you share.

The excitement for the wedding has you glowing. You've spent the whole day talking to your parents about the plans, thrilled about every luxury they can include thanks to their generosity. When you walk into the apartment you share with Vi, you're euphoric, eager to tell her every detail.

"Vi, you have no idea what we're going to have at the wedding!" you exclaimed, dropping your purse on the couch and walking over to her. "My parents are handling everything. We’re going to have imported flowers, a special performance from Seraphine, and even a chocolate fountain. It’s going to be amazing!"

Vi, who was sitting on the edge of the bed sharpening her fighting gloves, looked up. "And what else? Are they bringing unicorns too?" Her tone was clearly sarcastic.

You stopped, surprised by her reaction. "What do you mean by that?" you asked, crossing your arms.

She shrugged, setting the glove aside. "Nothing, just that it seems like your parents are turning this wedding into more of a show than a celebration."

"That’s not fair, Vi," you said, feeling defensive. "They just want the best for us."

Vi sighed, running a hand through her short hair. "Sure, the best for their perfect daughter, who’s lucky enough to get to marry someone like me."

The comment hit you harder than you expected. "What are you implying? That my parents are doing this just out of obligation? Vi, they support us, and I... I’m happy they’re helping. I don’t understand why you have to be like this."

"Why do I have to be like this?" Vi stood up, her voice rising slightly. "Because this isn’t what I imagined. I didn’t want us to have to depend on them for everything. I wanted to give you a wedding I could afford, something that came from me, not from them."

Vi’s words took you by surprise. You felt like the conversation was going in a different direction than you had expected. "Vi, my parents just want to help."

She shook her head, taking a step toward the window. "You don’t understand. It’s my pride, deer. It hurts that I can’t give you what you deserve. Every time you talk about the things they’re paying for, it reminds me of how little I have to offer you."

You walked over to her, taking her hand and forcing her to look at you. "Vi, you’ve given me more than any luxury or extravagance ever could. You’ve given me your love, your support, your strength. I don’t care who’s paying for the wedding, because the only thing that matters to me is that you’ll be by my side."

Vi’s eyes softened, her expression shifting from frustration to something gentler. "I’m sorry," she murmured. "I just... feel so useless sometimes, seeing them do everything."

"Vi, you’re not useless," you said firmly, caressing her cheek. "You are everything I’ve ever wanted. This day will be ours, no matter who’s paying for it, because the most valuable thing to me is marrying you."

She leaned in, her lips brushing yours in a soft, emotional kiss. "Thank you for understanding," she whispered against your lips. "I promise I’ll do everything I can to make this day special, even if I can’t pay for it with money."

"It’s already special because it’s with you," you replied, hugging her tightly. "I love you, Vi."

"And I love you, more than words can say," she said, holding you as if she never wanted to let go.

You both stayed there, embraced, letting the tension fade, knowing that, no matter the problems, together you could overcome anything.

Caitlyn

The room was adorned with a golden glow, the walls decorated with elegant tapestries, and the wedding plans scattered across the table, along with details and proposals. You were excited, visualizing what your wedding day would be like, but you couldn’t help but notice that Caitlyn seemed quieter than usual. Her gaze seemed fixed on the corner of the room.

"Cait? What do you think of these centerpieces?" you asked with a smile, wanting to share the excitement of the planning. "We could choose lavender flowers, something simple but elegant, right?"

Caitlyn didn’t respond immediately. Her fingers played with the edge of her glass, but her mind seemed to be elsewhere. Finally, she looked up at you with a forced smile, which didn’t quite hide the worry in her eyes.

"It sounds good, although... I'm not sure my parents would agree with something so... simple," she said with a tone you couldn't ignore.

A knot formed in your stomach. You knew Caitlyn came from an aristocratic family, with many traditions that were expected to be upheld, but you never imagined that external pressure could interfere so much with something so important to both of you.

"What do you mean by that?" you asked, already sensing the growing tension in the conversation.

Caitlyn took a deep breath, standing up and walking toward the window as if she needed space to organize her thoughts. "My family... expects us to have a wedding that represents our status, something worthy of tradition. I don’t know if they would accept the venue being decorated with lavender flowers..." her voice lowered as she continued speaking. "They want everything to be big and glamorous, with high-profile guests. They think a simple wedding, even if it’s on our own, doesn’t reflect what’s expected of us."

Your heart raced. You knew Caitlyn’s parents weren’t exactly easy to please, but you never imagined their expectations would overshadow what you both wanted for this day.

"But... Cait," you began, trying to understand, "isn’t this our wedding? Why do we have to do it the way they want? I don’t want a celebration that doesn’t feel like ours. I want it to be something of ours, not just a display of status."

Caitlyn turned toward you, her face now more serious. "I know! I know, and I agree with you. But I can’t disrespect them, not without consequences. They... pressure me in ways you don’t understand. If we don’t meet their expectations, it would look like a failure for our family."

The tone of her voice grew more desperate, more exhausted. You knew she didn’t want to give in, but you also understood the internal battle she was trapped in, between the love she felt for you and her loyalty to her family.

"So, you want our wedding to be some kind of act to impress your parents, instead of what we really want?" Your voice cracked as you asked, feeling the dream you had for that day crumbling.

Caitlyn quickly walked over to you, taking your hands firmly, her gaze filled with regret. "It’s not that. I don’t want that. It’s just... I can’t stop feeling the pressure my parents put on me. They have so much power, and I don’t want to hurt them in a way that will cause us more problems."

The pain in her eyes broke your heart. You knew what that meant to her, the conflict between the love she had for her family and her desire to do things her way.

"I love you, Cait. And I want this wedding to be ours, not a show for them," you said, trying to calm the storm that was brewing in the air. "Cait, I know you’re strong, and I know we can face all of this together. It’s just not fair."

A tear fell from her left eye, something you had never seen before. Caitlyn, so strong and determined, now seemed vulnerable, lost amidst her own expectations and those of others.

"I’m sorry," she whispered. "I just want you to be happy. I don’t want you to think I’m not considering you. I’m just so trapped in this... and I’m scared that everything will end up being what they want, not what we want."

In that moment, you knew it was time to set aside the anger and hold her. She was having a hard time, caught in a difficult situation, struggling to find a way to satisfy both your desires and her parents’ expectations.

"We can do this, Cait," you whispered, your arms gently caressing her delicate back, and she leaned into you, resting on the person she loved and needed most at that moment. "If we support each other, we’ll find a way. The wedding will be everything we dreamed of, and what your parents expect, but always within what really matters to us. It doesn’t have to be a sacrifice if we do it together."

Caitlyn looked at you for a long moment, as if evaluating your words, evaluating your feelings. Then, with a soft smile, she cupped your chin and kissed you. "I promise I’ll do it. We’ll do it together, like always."

The tension that had filled the room disappeared, and all that remained was mutual understanding and the certainty that, no matter how many difficulties there were, they were willing to face them together. And that was the only thing that mattered.

Jayce

The flowers, the music, the menu... everything seemed to be taking shape, but there was something in the air, a growing sense of discomfort that you couldn’t ignore.

"Jayce, do you really think we need to invite all those people?" you said, the fatigue and frustration beginning to seep into your voice. "Your guest list... it's huge!"

Jayce, who until that moment had been reviewing the papers with enthusiasm you couldn’t share, looked up at you, smiling with a mix of confidence and energy. "It’s Piltover, darling! We need to make this wedding a big deal, something everyone will remember. We have to invite the most influential figures, the city leaders, the people who really matter."

Your breath quickened. You knew Jayce was a man of great ambition and vision, but at that moment, you couldn’t help but feel dismissed by his words. As if all that mattered to him was image and status, and not the fact that this day was so much more personal for both of you.

"I don’t understand, Jayce," you said, trying to keep calm, but your tone came out firmer than you’d expected. "Why is it so important who’s there? Why can’t we do something more intimate, with the people closest to us, with the ones who really matter?"

Jayce frowned, dropping the papers on the table and approaching you with an intensity that made you feel vulnerable. "Are you saying you don’t want to make this a big event? That you don’t want all of Piltover to know what our union means?"

"No, I’m not saying that," you replied, your voice trembling with the accumulated frustration. "What I want is for this day to be something we remember, not what Piltover thinks of us. I want a wedding with meaning, with the people who truly matter to us, not a party to impress others."

Jayce crossed his arms, his jaw tense. You could see his mind starting to process your words, but you could also tell there was something inside him that refused to give in. "This is important! This isn’t just a party, it’s a statement. We’re talking about our future, our position in this city. Everything we do, everything, reflects who we are."

A wave of anger took over you. Each word from Jayce felt like it dug deeper, as if he was ignoring your own wishes, your own feelings. "You’re obsessed with appearances, Jayce! Everything always has to be big, flashy, as if only that has value! I... I just want a day that feels real, something that’s ours, something that reflects who we are as a couple, not a damn parade of names and titles."

The air immediately grew tense, and Jayce’s gaze darkened. "You know what? I don’t understand why you’re so upset. This is an opportunity to show everyone what we’ve achieved, to show them we matter, that we’re not just... I don’t know, residents of Piltover. Doesn’t it matter to you that this day is on par with what we’ve built?"

You stood in silence for a moment, the anger mixed with pain. There was something in Jayce that you didn’t want to lose sight of, something you wanted him to understand. "It’s not about that, Jayce," you said, now calmer but still hurt. "It’s about me wanting you, about this day being for us. I don’t want every decision we make to be based on what others think or what’s expected of us. I want this to be our day, with the people we love, not all those... important people."

A sigh escaped his lips, and for a moment, it seemed like he finally understood. But then, his voice grew softer, but still full of frustration. "I’m not asking you to forget what you want. I just want you to recognize that this is bigger than us, that what we’re doing doesn’t just involve us, but an entire city. What we build here can be remembered, and I want everyone to see it."

The conflict grew bigger in your chest, as if you were caught in a tug of war between what you both wanted. Finally, unable to take it anymore, you said, your eyes full of tears from the intensity of the moment: "I don’t want to stay with someone who only thinks about that. I don’t want this day to be just a showcase. I want it to be something more, something... real."

Jayce looked at you, and for a moment, he thought everything was lost. But then, something in his eyes changed. He came closer, took your hands with a delicacy you hadn’t expected, and in his voice, now softer, whispered: "I’m sorry... I didn’t think about how you’d feel. I... I just want what’s best for us, for you. And I want it to be perfect, I promise. But... I know we also need something that we want, something that makes us feel complete, not just everyone else."

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes allowed you to relax a little. His frustration was still there, but now he seemed willing to find the balance you both were seeking. "We’ll do it our way," he said with a sigh. "I don’t want to get lost in all of this. I want it to be your wedding as much as mine."

Then, with a slight smile, you hugged him. You didn’t know how the day would be, but you knew you’d face it with Jayce by your side, because what truly mattered was what you both wanted, together.

Ekko

The wedding had stopped being just a dream. All the preparations were becoming more real, but as you moved forward, you realized that Ekko's vision of the event was not at all what you had imagined.

One day, after arguing with the organizers about the floral arrangements, you came home to find Ekko looking at some drawings he had on the table, extravagant sketches with half-written ideas. It seemed like he was researching something, but as soon as you walked in, his expression changed.

"What's wrong?" you asked, noticing the slight tension in his face.

Ekko looked at you with a knowing smile, but he didn't seem as enthusiastic. "I was thinking about how to make our wedding something truly unique... I don't want to follow all those boring standards."

You walked over, confused but curious. "Boring standards?"

"Yeah, why do we have to do something like everyone else? Why not have the wedding in an abandoned place in Zaun, where everything started for us? An art show and an improvised banquet for those in needs instead of... this?" he said, pointing to the guest list and the more traditional ideas you had considered.

Ekko's proposal left you in shock. He was serious. A wedding in the Undercity? Full of improvisation? At that moment, an uncomfortable feeling began to grow in your chest. "What? Ekko, are you joking? What's so special about that? It's dangerous, and it's not what I want for us!" You spoke with awareness, since both of you had been born and lived in the Undercity, and you knew better than anyone that it would be quite risky to celebrate the wedding there—interruptions were the least of your concerns.

Ekko looked at you with a mix of surprise and frustration. "I thought you were like me. Why do you like all these... conventional things so suddenly? These ordinary weddings that mean nothing. Didn't you want something authentic, something that truly reflects who we are?"

Ekko's words hit deep, and for a moment, you felt hurt. What did he mean by saying traditional weddings meant nothing? Did he think your dreams and wishes for that day were worthless?

"Ekko..." Your voice trembled a little as you approached him. "Does our wedding mean nothing to you? Is all of this just... a waste of time?"

The silence between you two stretched, and his eyes softened. He slowly approached, taking your hands gently. "No, babe, it's not that. I don't want you to think I don't care. It's just that... I want it to be unique. I want our day to reflect us, our story, who we are. And who we are doesn't fit society's rules."

You sat down, letting Ekko's words sink deeper. It was true, he'd always been someone who fought against the established. Someone who dared to dream the impossible, to challenge what others expected of him. But did that really mean that the wedding you had dreamed of would be lost?

"I just want... I want it to be something beautiful," you said with a sigh. "Something I can always remember as the most beautiful day of our lives. I don't want to do anything weird or strange."

Ekko then smiled, getting closer to you, with a light of understanding in his eyes. "It will be," he said with conviction, "but we'll do it our way. We're not going to follow the standards. I know you don't want that. I don't either."

For a moment, the weight of the situation began to lift, and everything felt much clearer. It was true. You had been so focused on making everything perfect, so eager for the wedding to match what had been your dream, that you'd forgotten something fundamental: you weren't like that.

Finally, you opened up, feeling vulnerable but relieved. "It's just... I just wanted to feel like a normal girl with a normal wedding. I don't know... like the ones I see in the Upper City, with everything so polished, so... perfect. I just want to feel like I belong. Like I'm not different."

Ekko looked at you silently for a moment, and his hands gently squeezed yours. "You're more than that," he said, his voice soft but sure. "You don't have to fit into anything or anyone. What we have, who we are... is unique. And that's what I want our wedding to reflect."

Your breath calmed, and finally, a genuine smile appeared on your face. "Then... let's do it. Our way. A unique day, without following rules."

Ekko hugged you, letting the warmth of his body calm you. "I promise," he whispered in your ear. "We'll make it unique. We'll make it better, but our way."

You both stayed there, surrounded by the warm silence that only the two of you shared, knowing that, even though the road to the wedding wouldn't be conventional, the important thing was that you'd do it together, and that would make it special.

Silco

Silco was standing by the window, looking out at the city from his office high up in the building, where the bustle of the Undercity felt distant but always present. Despite the imposing view, something in his gaze betrayed a void, an internal worry that he couldn’t shake off, even with the love he felt for you. The wedding was drawing closer, and while he knew he wanted a future with you, there were parts of his history, his past, that haunted him, and those shadows didn’t disappear easily.

You were on the other side of the office, going over some details for the ceremony. The environment you were in was bright and luxurious, but for some reason, you couldn’t shake the feeling that everything you were about to experience didn’t quite belong to you. You couldn’t stop thinking about how Silco had pulled you out of the brothel, a life you had left behind but which always silently haunted you. You weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to fully free yourself from that past.

“I don’t know if I deserve this…” you murmured, without thinking too much, looking at a list of flowers for the wedding.

Silco lifted his gaze, the cold serenity of his face mixing with something darker, something that seemed like an internal struggle he was trying not to let you see. He walked toward you, the sound of his footsteps echoing in the room.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, his voice deep but calm, though this time there seemed to be a hint of concern beneath it.

You sighed, not wanting to talk about it, but the sadness overwhelmed you. “I can’t stop thinking about what people will say… They’ll look at me and think, ‘that’s the girl who worked in the brothel.’ They’ll never take me seriously. I don’t feel like I deserve something as… beautiful as this.”

A heavy silence fell between the two of you. Silco stared at you, his eyes as intense and calculating as always, but this time there was something different in them, something closer to concern. He approached you, stopping right in front of you but not touching you yet. He looked at your face, your eyes full of uncertainty, and his lips tightened as if his own demons were struggling to surface.

“You know what bothers me the most?” he said finally. “That you keep thinking you don’t deserve this. That you keep looking at the past as if it’s the only thing that defines you. Those people have no idea what you’re capable of. And you… you’re so much more than any shitty place you’ve come from.”

Your eyes filled with tears that you couldn’t stop from spilling. The emotion swelled within you like a wave. “But… what about my parents? I don’t know anything about them. They sold me like I was merchandise. I have no idea if they’re alive or dead, if they care about me. I never knew if they really loved me…” The anguish spilled out in words, and the tension in your chest increased, as if the gravity of the moment were crushing you.

Silco looked at you with a mix of rage and frustration, as if all that pain were a threat to the fortress he had built around himself. But it wasn’t anger that dominated his voice when he spoke.

“You don’t have to carry that guilt or that damn shame. You don’t have to see all that past as a burden that keeps you from walking toward the future. I pulled you out of that shit, and no one, no one, has the right to judge what we are or what we’ve been. Because what I’ve built for you, and what you’ve done, isn’t measured by what others think. The only thing that matters is what I see when I look into your eyes… and when I look at you, I see a woman who makes me want to break the damn world apart to give you what you deserve.”

Silco’s tone was direct, filled with something he couldn’t express with simple words, something deeper. With a firm hand but an unusual gentleness for him, he touched your face, lifting your chin so you would look at him.

“I don’t care what people think. And I don’t care what you’ve been or what you’ve done. The only thing that matters is what we are now. Us. I don’t want this wedding to be just a formality. I want it to reflect everything. And if you’re by my side, then that everything makes sense.”

Despite the confusion in your heart, part of you began to calm down, at least a little. Silco would never lie to you, not in his coldest gestures nor his warmest ones. His words weren’t just empty promises; they were the words of someone who had fought as much as you had, albeit in a different way, to find his place in the world.

“So you really think I deserve this?” you asked, your voice trembling with emotion.

“You deserve everything.” He answered without hesitation. “And I won’t let any shadow from your past cloud what we’ve achieved. If there’s one thing I’ve learned through all this time, it’s that you and I have the right to create whatever we want. What we’ve done or been before doesn’t matter now.”

You stepped toward him, resting your forehead against his chest, the weight of your insecurities beginning to dissolve by the firmness of his support. “I don’t know if I’m ready for all of this… but being with you makes me feel like maybe, just maybe, I deserve something better too.”

“You always have.” He whispered, wrapping you in a firm embrace. “And if you ever forget that, I’ll be here to remind you.”

And in that embrace, the security Silco offered was more than enough to extinguish the doubts that still burned inside you. It didn’t matter where you came from, or what you had suffered. What mattered was the future you both would build together.

Mel

There was something in the air, a subtle tension that you couldn’t help but feel as you sat at the wedding planning table. Mel was completely absorbed in the details, as if everything had to be perfect and according to her vision. She had told you about the decoration, the guest list, and even the type of outfits she thought you both should wear, but something didn’t add up. Mel was making decisions without consulting you, assuming her preferences were the only ones that mattered.

“I’ve decided it will be in an indoor venue, with all sorts of baroque decorations, and I’ve hired the most prestigious orchestra in Piltover. We want to make our position known, right?” Mel was so confident, looking at the papers and giving a satisfied smile while she handled everything, not letting you intervene.

“What about what I want?” you asked, feeling a mix of frustration and discomfort building up in your chest. “Don’t you want this to be our wedding, not just yours?”

Mel looked up, surprised by your tone, but quickly recovered, giving a small smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes. “Of course. But… it’s not that complicated, don’t you think? I’ve always been the one to take the reins in this, I always get it right, everything perfectly.”

Your heart began to race. “Mel, you’re not letting me participate. It’s not just your wedding. This is about us, about what we want to share, not about what you think it should be.”

Mel furrowed her brow. “You know, right? Our wedding has to be something that stands out, something that tells the world who we are. I’m not trying to do it alone, it’s just… I’ve always known what’s best.”

“That’s exactly what bothers me!” your words came out forcefully. “You always think you know what’s best, but what about what I want? You’re always planning everything without asking me, always making decisions like everything has to revolve around you.”

The tension was palpable. Mel crossed her arms, her expression hardening. “And what do you know? Do you think I’m not trying to do what’s best for us?” Her voice was sharper now, as if each word was filled with contained frustration. “What about you? Don’t you realize nothing is ever enough for you? You always want something more, something different... Don’t you get tired of living within your own limits?”

What she said stung, like a sharp jab to your chest. “I’m not looking for a spectacle, Mel. What I want is a wedding that reflects what we share, not what the world expects to see.” You felt the emotion take over. “You’re suffocating me with your expectations, with your perfection, Mel. Sometimes, I feel like your need for everything to be perfect is taking away from what truly matters. Perfection isn’t what I want from you, what I want is for us to be together, real.”

Mel stood still, looking down, her face showing a discomfort she didn’t often show. For a moment, she seemed to hesitate. “It’s not that... It’s just that... I don’t know how to do things any other way.” Her voice was softer now, but there was still a layer of tension. “My life has always been about controlling things, doing them the way I want. It’s the only thing I know how to do well. And... I don’t want our wedding to be like any other. I don’t want people to look at us and think we’re ordinary.”

Your eyes softened, and you moved closer to her, taking her hands. “You don’t have to be perfect, Mel. I don’t care if it’s not the most luxurious wedding, or if everything is under control. What matters to me is you, and how we feel together. I don’t want you to drown in your own expectations.”

Mel sighed, the sound of her emotional weariness filling the air. “Sometimes, I feel like... I’m not enough.” Her gaze drifted, as if afraid her words might reveal something she didn’t want to show. “It’s easier to control everything than to accept that things might go wrong. Sometimes, perfection is the only thing I have.”

“You don’t need to be perfect for me, I’ve told you that,” you said softly, caressing her cheek gently. “You just need to be you. And that’s the best part of all of this, Mel. I want you, with all your imperfections, and that’s what I want our wedding to reflect.”

Mel took a deep breath, and a small smile appeared on her face. “I guess I owe you that. This wedding... might be simpler than I thought, but what matters is that it’s ours. Does that sound good?”

The tension immediately dissipated, and the atmosphere between you two softened. She moved closer, and finally, her hands intertwined with yours in a genuine embrace. “Thank you,” Mel said, her voice softer than before, vulnerable and real. “I promise we’ll do it the way you want. It will be our wedding, our way.”

“Thank you,” you replied, hugging her tighter. “All I need from you is for you to be you. And that’s the most perfect thing we can do.”

Both of you smiled, understanding that even though you had differences, the strength of what you shared was far more important than anything else. In the end, what mattered was your mutual commitment, not control, not perfection, but the love you had promised each other.

Sevika

The idea of planning the wedding seemed, in theory, fun and exciting. But in practice, it was an absolute mess. Both of you were trying to organize everything, but Sevika and you weren’t exactly the most organized. There were papers all over the table, piles of disorganized notes, and plans that didn’t match what you both wanted.

"This is a nightmare," Sevika muttered as she picked up a crumpled piece of paper from the floor. "How are we supposed to organize this if we can't even agree on a venue?"

You sat down in the chair, watching the disaster around you. "I know," you sighed, running your hands through your hair. "I wanted it to be simple, but it seems like I can't even do that right."

Sevika let out a bitter laugh, a sound you knew all too well. "Simple? Everything here is a disaster, and we're up to our necks in nonsense. I don't know if I'm the worst at this or if it’s just that this isn’t what I imagined."

Both of you were overwhelmed, and the tension was building. The lack of organization and control wasn’t just reflecting the physical chaos, but also the underlying anxieties of both of you.

"I told you, Sevika, this doesn’t make sense! We’re not getting anything right, and I feel like we’re already ruining everything." Your voice rose with frustration because you not only felt the wedding was out of control, but that this lack of success in the small details was affecting you more than you wanted to admit.

Sevika looked at you intently, frustration clear in her eyes. "And what did you expect? We're not people who do everything perfectly. We’re used to improvising, surviving, doing things our way." Her tone hardened, as if she was trying to justify what had happened. "I don’t know why you thought this would be different."

"Because it’s our wedding, Sevika! It’s not the same as always!" You were about to lose your temper. "I’m tired of you solving everything with ‘we’ll improvise’. This is important to me, and it matters a lot, do you understand?"

Sevika stepped closer, her taller frame and steady gaze making it clear this discussion had escalated too far. "I know, I know… but what I’m telling you is I don’t want it to be a traditional 'under control' wedding. Enough with the outside pressures." Her voice was softer but no less intense. "You know what scares me the most? That I don’t know if I’m capable of doing this right, that everything I plan won’t be enough for you. Because I know I’m not perfect. I’ve always been a warrior, not a princess who wants to sit at a fancy table."

A sharp pain pierced you as you heard her words. It wasn’t just about the wedding. There was something deeper in her tone. "It’s not about that, babe," you said, frustration transforming into a softness that took over you. "I just want it to be our moment. But it seems like we can’t even agree on the smallest thing."

Silence filled the room for a moment. Sevika, with her gaze fixed on the floor, seemed to be thinking. Finally, she stepped closer and, unexpectedly, placed her hand over yours.

"I’m sorry," she said, her voice softer, full of sincerity. "I didn’t want this to affect you so much. What’s going on is… I’m scared, you know? All of this is new to me. I’m not used to planning something so… so personal, and that scares me."

You were taken aback by her vulnerability. "I understand you’re scared, I’m scared too. But do you know what makes me lose that fear? Remembering that I’ll be with you, that we’re making the ultimate promise to share our lives together," you said, feeling the intensity of the connection between you both. "What matters is that, even if everything feels like a disaster, we’ll be together."

She smiled almost imperceptibly, with a mix of sadness and relief. "Do you really think I can’t do it right?"

"No, it’s not that," you replied, gently touching her face. "What I mean is, it doesn’t matter if everything is a disaster, as long as it’s our disaster."

A sigh escaped Sevika. "You’re right."

Both of you remained silent for a moment, understanding that perfection wasn’t what mattered. What mattered was what you shared, and that was more than enough for either of you.

Sevika, now calmer, hugged you softly. "We’ll do it right, doll. I promise."

You smiled, relieved. "Yeah, I know."

And, even though the wedding was still a mess, the only thing that mattered was that it was your mess. Your love was the only thing you needed to make everything make sense.

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acciocriativity · 2 days ago

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->You're hyper independent || Ateez Reactions || Hyung Line

Genre: fluff, angst (because of the theme on itself), slice of life AU

Warnings: NONE

N/A: This is a very real trauma response that real people have. However, I tried to keep it light, humorous, and focus on the support and love the reader received from the boys in different contexts instead of the actual trauma triggering situation that cause the trauma response. If I, in any way, offend people who have this trauma response, I'm open to learning and editing this, if necessary.

N/A ²: This is a gender neutral! reader.

Ateez Masterlist

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중): You don’t let him pay for you, and he’s helpless

On your very first date with Hongjoong, just as casually as he wiped out his card to pay for the meal, you wiped out yours. That day, he learned you were as hardheaded as he was, which was an interesting surprise. There was no dance of “Oh, I pay. No, it’s okay, I can pay. No, I insist. Oh, if you insist, then…” as he imagined at first. If you said you were going to pay, then you would do so. In the end, you both agreed to slip the bill even.

That was a common occurrence at the beginning of your relationship, a spit-even bill no matter the cost of the meal or whatever you were doing together.

It wasn’t like he was flaunting his money, nor did he want to offend you in any way, which you didn’t think was the case, thank God. It just became second nature for him to be attentive to those around him, and if he had an opportunity to do something nice for people he cared about, why would he not? Why wouldn’t you let him? You thought he was adorable when he vented that to you on a 1 A.M. something call, like those thoughts plagued his dreams or something. You liked your man a little dramatic like that.

There were times when it was a given that he bought something for the two of you, and then you made sure to put your money on something else for you both that same day. He thought you would rather keep things “separated” at that stage, where things were uncertain, to not create any kind of “debts” with each other, it seemed, although he didn’t agree with that trail of thoughts at all, and it was a bit offensive to him. First, because he’d never be the type of man to expect anybody to owe him anything after dinner, and second, because he hadn’t any doubts about the relationship.

His suspicions weren’t that far off, honestly. You said plainly you rather avoid any discomfort or expectations at this stage of your relationship with him, and he could sleep well because you knew how caring he was even if he wasn’t the one paying for you.

It was lovely for him to know what you thought of him. A simple phrase made his day, and if that was your answer, then he wouldn’t push it. Even if he was desperate to know what those discomforts were for you and if they happened frequently in the past.

For now, he’d gladly wait for you while you met in the middle, even if he feels a little helpless.

Park Seonghwa (박성화): he isn’t allowed to baby you like you baby him, but mama raised no bitch

It wasn’t a rule per se, but the only 3 times he ever tried to baby you during your one-year relationship like you usually do with him, two of them made you almost become physically ill, and the last of them, you were, in fact, ill.

He never thought karma would hit him as hard as it did when he met you for the first time. His tsundere exterior was nothing compared to yours. It felt like he encountered another version of himself, one that he lost to instantly. It was safe to say your charm wasn’t cuteness. It was how attentive you were, how you cared for anyone around you in a quiet and practical way, and how you were honest above all. You were reliable, steady, and so so warm with those you cared for. He was down bad before he could say the word “tsundere”.

The first time was a mistake, almost an instinct. It wasn’t rare for you to be cute unintentionally, but just as much as one shouldn’t make any sudden noise to not scare a grumpy cat away after it laid near, he should not have cooed and pinched your cheeks while you tried some of his stew at a dinner night at his house, the first of many.

He didn’t move, his arms hurt from the position he was in. The sheer astonishment on your face made him freeze, but there was no way of reversing time. There was no running from this. It was done. He feared for his life as you slowly processed what was happening to you.

It was clear how deeply you disliked it, even if you didn’t say so, and Seonghwa always prided himself on being a great boyfriend, so he kept that in mind to never do it again.

But he is just a man at the end of the day, a very, very weak man, and your cheeks are really, really perfect to pinch. Still, he chose his battles carefully, and the last two attempts were successful because you always let him off the hook without much of anything. In all honesty, he was the cutest and childlike one in the relationship even if he didn’t show it after first, and you fell hard for that side of him. The way his pretty brown eyes shined with mischief whenever he got away with calling you cute or cooing at you melted your heart on the spot, so you let him.

If it was anyone else, you’d run as far as you could from whoever it was, even your own parents. You were just not a touchy person at all, because maybe you grew up without people giving that kind of love to you then, but you got used to it from Seonghwa. Of course, it was best if he never knew how much power he actually had, so you let him fear for his life for a moment or two.

Unfortunately, Seonghwa was a cute, silly man, but he was your cute, silly man.

Jeong Yunho (정윤호): You don’t ask him for help, but what else can he do with his acts of service love language?

You two have been friends for a good while now, that kind of friend who everyone thought would amount to something else yet never did. The time to risk for something more was the night you two met, but neither of you took any action then. Now, you two had a good friendship, and that was more than enough for both of you.

Yunho couldn’t lie and say he hadn’t thought of what ifs with you in the past, but in his mind, you were never interested in him like this, so the whole thing was pointless. You didn’t seem interested in a romantic relationship then just as much as you don’t now, and he was fine with it.

You had a nice future ahead of you. A lot of your time was spent on building a good curriculum for college and then a solid career for yourself in a predominantly male industry. It was a rough path, sometimes you wondered if that was the right choice or not, doubted your own capabilities because your colleagues did so all the time, but at the end of the day you had amazing people to remind you who you were, you had Yunho. Sometimes, you wondered if he was a mind reader of sorts.

You dreaded the simple thought of looking weak, even if it was something as little as asking for some space to vent. You grew up with the mindset that any kind of vulnerability was bad, which wasn’t healthy for you at all, but it feels like it’s too late to change, even if you want to. However, the thing about Yunho is that he’d never allow you to ask for anything because he hands you anything you might need.

Did you need someone to distract you after a rough day of work? That’s a given. His silly memes and TikTok’s were waiting for your reply. Oh, you actually needed space for yourself? It’s ok. He’s got the hint quickly, and he’d leave you be with a simple encouraging message to remind you to rest and contact him the next day.

The good stuff came when you had your weekend free because he remembered you wanted to shop for a new couch, and given the amount of work, it’d be great to have a helping hand, right? Oh, it’s rot-in-bed day instead? Well, it's a good thing he’s versatile.

You never really asked for an all-in-one man, but you got him anyway, so better enjoy it!

Kang Yeosang (강여상): You’re the only person he choose to chase and God forbid if that ever reaches San’s ears

He’s an idol, he’s been in this industry for almost a decade, so he understood being busy, and this overwhelming need to isolate yourself and forget about everything else outside your room. The key difference is that he couldn’t do that much. However, that seemed to be your favorite way to cope lately. It was a lose-lose for him because if you were not locked away in your own world, then you were busy with a million other things.

You’re the only friend from his childhood he still has a relatively stable relationship because of how close in stages of life you two always have been, even now, both working in very different industries.

It has been like this since the very beginning. You two always aimed to be something in the future when you were kids. What you two would be was a different question, and neither was ready to answer. In the teen years, Yeosang got his answer while you worked hard to get into a good college, hoping to find yours when you got there. That could’ve been the end of the friendship, but you were both so aligned still that it could only be fate. He took a chance at a smaller company, and you decided to study something different than you had imagined for yourself. You both had similar struggles, doubts, and accomplishments around the same time. It was a running joke at this point.

He had to remind himself of that sweet part so he wouldn’t lose it the moment you actually picked up his calls. He knew lately it’s been tough for you. Only you chose not to speak about it and went right into your suffer-alone mode.

The upsetting part of all this was the fact that these were your vacation days, you earned them and he wouldn’t be Kang Yeosang if he’d let you waste it in bed all day after he heard for months all about the places you wanted to go. It was a coincidence the fact that he also recently got some free days for himself.

He was nice enough. He gave you a last heads-up that he was coming. In another life, he could say he wasn’t taking no for an answer, but you wouldn’t say no to him in this lifetime.

It’s only been a while since he was slightly concerned with this “on my own” approach to coping with the pain because you decided not to include him in it. The why he didn’t know, neither was he interested in it. But looking back, you’ve always acted like this, like a little fortress of sorts, like you had to be strong for all to see and this was the first time he was taking an action against it.

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jenanigans1207 · 3 days ago

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1/7/25: Petty

“Dude,” Sam says to Dean one night when they’re sitting in the library pouring over some boring ass books that haven’t helped them even a little bit up until this point. “What the hell’d you do to Cas?”

“Who says I did anything to him?” Dean asks without glancing up. “Dude’s weird, it’s probably nothing.”

A hand appears on the page that Dean was pretending to read, and it takes him a second to even realize it’s happened, blinking his attention back to the moment and glaring at Sam as he reaches out to smack the offending hand. Sam snatches his hand back before Dean makes contact, but the effect was successful because Sam now has Dean’s full attention.

“He’s taking everything I say so literally.” Sam explains, pausing as if he’s waiting for Dean to add something. When Dean doesn’t, he presses on. “We’ve known the guy for twelve years and even when he was his most angelic, he didn’t do this.”

“Sure he did.” Dean argued, the phrase no, he’s not on any flatbread circling around in his head.

But Sam shakes his head, a few long pieces falling into his eyes. “That was different. He didn’t know then. He’s doing it on purpose now.”

Dean sighs and scrubs a hand across his face. “He’s doing it to be a petty bastard.” He says finally. “On our last hunt I yelled at him because he never fucking listens or does what I ask him to do, which is how he got hurt. So now—”

“He’s taking everything said to him literally and acting it out exactly as he’s told to.” Sam fills in the blank.

“Yeah.” Dean says. “I was trying to ignore him hoping that he’d stop, but he only seems to be doubling down on being an ass about the whole thing.”

To Dean’s surprise, the only response Sam has to the whole situation is to burst out in laughter. It’s the kind of head thrown back, belly laugh that Dean hasn’t heard Sam do in years. It was the kind of laugh he cherished, because he used to get it so infrequently that he had to commit every second of it to memory. And even though Sam laughs more easily now, he still rarely laughs with this kind of unbridled joy— for a moment it makes Dean entirely forget about Cas and his petty revenge. Despite himself and despite the situation, Dean finds himself grinning a little too, just happy to see his brother happy.

“You really met your match,” Sam finally manages to choke out, still smiling in a way that’s happy but definitely verging on shit-eating. “For every pain in the ass thing you do, he returns the favor.”

“It’s not funny,” Dean grumbles, leaning back in his chair. He wants to take a swig of his beer but it’s empty and he doesn’t feel like getting up. “He needs to be more careful!”

Sam settles more comfortably in his own chair then and it’s the slant of his shoulders that tells Dean he should’ve gotten up to get the next beer because he’ll need it for whatever Sam is about to say. “Have you just tried telling him that you’re worried about him? And that it matters to you that he stays safe?”

There’s a lot of deflections and defenses that jump to the tip of Dean’s tongue, but he bites back on them. He’s been trying to be better to be at least a little more honest— with himself, Sam, and Cas. Nobody else was yet included in that honesty, but he figured he’d get there someday. So he swallows the immediate words he wants to say and glances down at the table.

“He should know.” He answers instead which isn’t much but it’s better and more vulnerable than anything else he would’ve said. At least it implies admission that Sam’s right about his true reason for being upset.

“I’m sure he does.” Sam agrees and there’s a sincerity in his voice that does actually comfort Dean a little. “But knowing it deep down and hearing it are different.” Sam explains, pausing before adding, “You know he loves you, but it’s still nice to hear, isn’t it?”

And goddamn it all, Sam has a point that Dean can’t even begin to deny. Because he does know that Cas loves him, knows it to the core of his very bones. But if Cas were to just stop saying it out loud, were to stop reminding him of just how much he’s loved, it would be hard for Dean. He wouldn’t doubt that love, but he would still struggle with it.

Dean groans and pushes back from the table, mumbling an affectionate and exasperated “bitch” under his breath as he leaves the room. He doesn’t have to travel far to find Cas, situated in the bathroom preparing to shave. Cas glances up when he walks in the door, their eyes meeting in the mirror. Cas’s hand stills where they were unrolling a towel over the sink in front of him.

“I’m so hard on you because I’m worried,” Dean blurts before he has the chance to lose his nerve. “I’m terrified of losing you and it scares the shit out of me when you get hurt on our hunts.” Cas’s eyes have gone impossibly wide in his reflection, but he doesn’t interrupt. “I don’t mean to be an ass, I just— I can’t lose you, Cas. You mean too damn much to me.”

“Dean,” Cas breathes, turning to face him properly.

“So there you go,” Dean scuffs the toe of his boot on the ground. “You can stop being a petty bitch now.”

Cas smiles as he steps up to Dean, reaching out to cup his elbow gently in a warm hand. “Thank you for telling me.”

“You knew, right?” Dean confirms.

“I knew,” Cas answers. “I couldn’t have been so petty if I had thought you were serious.”

“You’re such an ass.”

#enjoy some Winchester brothers #and cas being a little shit #supernatural #spn #destiel #deancas #daily drabble #daily destiel drabble

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snoopyhq · 11 hours ago

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˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ eres mi regalo mejor, querido

type: viktor x reader

summary: viktor with a reader whose love language is gift giving

word count: 1250

First of all, why?

Not that he’s ungrateful or anything! Far from it, in fact

See, he just isn’t used to receiving gifts “just because”

Growing up in Zaun, moving to Piltover, and now dedicating his life to Hextech meant that he doesn’t exactly have time to enjoy the little things. He has no desire to be speaking in front of crowds. His comfort zone is being in the lab, his focus on his latest passion project, and he has control over what he’s doing and what he knows

Also, he’s not used to surprises. Didn’t reckon he would ever be fond of them

And I’m totally projecting here, but Viktor is also one of those people with the really awkward reaction to receiving gifts. He doesn’t know what to do or say that would seem appropriate enough, you know? He’s extremely touched that you thought of him and not just that, but saw it fit to get/make him something

Over time, accepting that he’s loved through the means of gifts becomes easier

He’s not the best at it to start with, because most his purchases have strictly been on a “necessity” basis

But he isn’t one of Piltover’s brightest minds for nothing

Babygirl’s hypothesizing, observing, and applying. Got that scientific method approach when he’s getting you gifts

Overall, you’re both doting on each other now in your ritualistic exchanges of presents

It’s a mix of hand-made and bought, and both forms of acquisition doesn’t matter when the thought behind the choice is explained with such love 💕

˚ ♡ ⋆｡˚ ❀ DRABBLE TIME !!!

While the holiday season was a time of rest and relaxation for most people, things within Piltover's labratories were in complete mayhem. The department's end of season party was quickly approaching, which meant Viktor and Jayce were consumed with decorating the halls. That was their assigned task, and they were determined to do a good job.

Sky had went home to her family a week earlier. You and the boys had bid her a sweet farewell, sending her home with a collaborative handmade stopwatch. It had a GPS built in (thank you, Viktor), a widget for the weather and traffic predictions (shoutout Jayce), and you had drawn up the blueprint for its internal mechanics.

Viktor returned home a little after 6:00 PM today. It was well beyond dark outside, even with the lamps lighting up the streets. This was the last breather before the actual event in about three hours.

"Here, eat something," you encouraged, handing him a bowl of soup you'd made earlier.

"Thank you. You always know just what I need," he smiled wearily.

While he got to work on the meal, you went about getting ready. You were Viktor's plus-one, and while most of the department knew your name and face from your frequent visits to see your beloved, you were still nervous. Even so, you were determined to enjoy yourself, and hopefully Viktor would too.

He wasn't too fond of crowds, and for the first time in your life, you found yourself the people person in a duo. That was working out well. You have slowly gotten better at getting out of your shell, and Viktor too, began to pick up on your mannerisms when around others. He has now talked to a handful of people of his own accord, an accomplishment you were extremely proud of, and him pleased.

"Oh, and before we go! Our gift exchange," you piped up. That caught Viktor's full attention.

Right! Your gift exchange was today. He was nervously excited, despite himself. He had put in much thought and effort into your gifts, and while you would never have a negative reaction, he couldn't help the small anxieties that repeated in his mind. But it would be alright.

You went first. Handing him a deep green paper bag with white snowflakes around the border, you waited with bated breath.

"This was the color you said looked good on me, yes?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Yep! Ok, now open your gifts," you encouraged.

He did, eyes widening in delight. There was a clothing set, made in soft, fine material that felt like flowing water between his fingers. There was a rich, brown dress shirt, with forest green silk vest, a black leather belt with silver gear buckles, and brown pants to match the dress shirt. While those articles were commissioned from a local tailor, you had added in a handmade lapel in the shape of narcisscus. The flower for his birth month.

That wasn't all. You had included a candle scented with coffee and a muted hint of pine. Then there was a copy of a philosophy book, writtern by an academic you knew he was fond of. The author had done a recent meet and greet at one of the bookstores downtown, and you had made sure to clear your schedule that day in order to attend.

"Look on the inside!"

He did, and nearly cried. There was a note in the author's handwriting, signed off too.

To Viktor,

I was heard that you were fond of my works. I hope this latest volume of mine brings you as much joy as I felt knowing I had such a devoted reader like yourself. Best Wishes!

"How did you even- I mean, the event was all booked when I tried to get a spot," he laughed breathlessly.

"Why did you think I stayed up all night?" you grinned.

"All of this is so much," he whispered. "God, I feel so...,"

"No, none of that now," you chided. "Whatever you got me will be just as wonderful because it's from you. Don't compare your hard work to mine, Viktor."

He took in a deep breath, and let it out slowly.

"Thank you. Will you open your presents now, love?"

You were more than ready. The bag he handed you was a simple brown one, belying the efforts within. The first thing you got was a copy of a newly released book, one you had been eyeing for ages. Not only that, there were stickers and tabs throughout, and when you opened to a random page, you were met with his familiar handwriting, meticulously annotating in the margins with his commentary. It was a dream. You basically get to read this treasure alongside his thoughts. You've mentioned on multiple occasion how you wanted to start annotating your books, but never quite found the time. Now Viktor had went above and beyond.

"Viktor. Have I ever told you how much I love you?"

Not waiting for his response, you reverently set the book down and went to open the rest. There was a custom CD! The tracklist was accompanied by another note, explaining that he wanted to chronicle the love he has for you through music. Jayce, Mel, and Sky had been great helps in finding him some of the songs and getting it all burned and made into a disk.

And then there was his letter. Beautiful swirls and some words crossed out, the multi-page declaration of adoration was something you couldn't wait to sit down and read fully.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt Viktor's hand around yours.

"Before we go to the party tonight, I want to tell you that you will always be my greatest gift. I may not be perfect at showing it to you quite yet, but I have found myself more and more at ease in this love we share. Happy holidays, moje miláčku."

#viktor arcane #viktor x reader #arcane imagine #arcane x reader #viktor fluff #viktor nation #viktor x you

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lonesilverw0lf · 2 days ago

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Chess student: The cult has become locked itself in this building, we need to clear them out.

Football student: We know where they are, so let’s just bum rush them and take ‘em out.

CS: Don’t be rash. We have to do this methodically so we ensure they’re gone for good.

FS: We have them cornered, just get in there and get it done.

CS: We don’t know how many of them are left, what kind of traps they have, escape routes, or what. We can’t take any chances that they’ve set a trap themselves or that they can escape.

FS: They just got in there after two days of running. They’ve been caught with their pants down! We need to bust down the walls before they have a chance to rest and regroup!

CS: Or walk right into a trap? This is the real deal, we can’t make any half baked decisions.

FS: You’re not the active type, even back in school. You don’t have any idea on what actually goes down in the split seconds, nor any say on what it takes. You’ll let a perfectly good opportunity waltz by as you try to come up with some half clever scheme!

CS: You’ve never thought ahead once in your life. You always rush headlong into things and end up in a bigger mess than what was originally there. Or even create a mess because you didn’t know left from right!

FS: At least I choose to do something instead of sit back like a coward!

CS: I’ve seen better intelligence in a monkey than anything you try to pull!

???: Guys!

FS and CS: WHAT?!

Art Student: You two need to find something to make up, your arguments almost broke my concentration several times. Guh. My farsighted isn’t great, but I did manage to get as much information on the inside as I could. *hands over a stack of papers with sketches of the building and the insides*

CS: That’s great! The more intelligence we have the better we can plan ahead.

FS: Just point out where the boss man is so I can get in there and knock his head in.

AS: At least tell me you can tell what it’s supposed to be? I’m an abstract expressionist not a realist.

FS: Looks clear enough for me.

CS, flipping through the drawings: Ok, so a dozen and so cultists, a couple of horses, a loft, I guess that’s a weapons rack, so far so expected. Hey, what’s the story with this one?

AS: Which one? Sorry my headache hasn’t given me my sight yet so everything’s kinda blurry still.

CS: The one guy with more details than the rest.

AS: Dunno yet. I can only draw what I see using my Sight. I don’t know what it is I’m looking at until I see what I drew.

FS: That sounds stupid.

AS: They say that it’ll get better with time. Right now I’m too low level for that. Huh, that one guy is a lot more detailed than the rest. Weird.

CS: I didn’t get all the details on your Ability. Why is this so important?

AS: My mentor said something about things that I’m more familiar with tend to come out clearer. People I know, places I frequent, they stick out a lot more. Even if the place has changed significantly like a fire or battle happened, or if a person is wearing a disguise or something.

FS: So who would be so familiar to you in this random group of cultists?

Realization dawns on the assembled trio.

FS: Ok CS, your plan is good. We surround the building and- huh?

AS: I just blinked. Where did CS go?

CS, punching a hole into the wall of the building like the Kool Aid man: YIPPE KAI YAY MOTHER FUCKERS!! WHERE YOU AT BLORBO?!

MC, who infiltrated the Cult to feed the local militia information: How the hell do you guys keep finding me?!

The standard 'entire class gets isekai'd to a fantasy world and the outcast MC is basically discarded' anime setting, where the MC, now assumed dead, decides to instead help the class of Heroes in the shadows, making sure they live up to what the people need.

However, the entire class knows that he's alive and are hellbent on dragging that son of a bitch back into the spotlight and to give him the recognition he deserves.

(And maybe because he was basically the entire class's Little Guy™.)

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the-100-days-of-junkan · 3 days ago

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Day 100

One hundred fuckin’ days. God. Actually happened.

I spent 3/4ths of the year drawing more Junkan art than I think anyone else on the internet ever has. Which might be presumptuous of me, maybe i’m just looking in the wrong places y’know? I’m a solid second place bare minimum.

And like, that’s still pretty funny right? This whole event is something I’m gonna cherish forever, the memories, the art itself, the friends I made because of it. But like, c’mon. I drew 100 fucking pieces, learned new skills like digital painting, animation, all that shit, for a ship that I used to hate, and a ship that for the longest time I thought was gonna get me fuckin banished to the deepest depths of the internet just for drawing a poor sketch of them kissing. This ship has become more deeply entwined into who I am as a person that it’s passed up Tokomaru, the ship that literally made me realize I’m a woman.

It’s gotta be at least a little funny, right?

Ah but enough of that, I can talk more on that subject a bit later. For now I reckon I should focus on our art piece for today! Wouldn’t you agree?

Yeah it’s the Wedding. I’d say even before Day 60 I decided the final pic of the Project would be The Wedding, even before I decided to draw a comic of the proposal. Because like, c’mon, it’s basic but how the fuck else was I supposed to end of the project? With something that ISN’T a wedding????

And very shocking to hear after this entire project has gone by, but I did in fact scale back this pic massively. You wanna know what the original idea was?? 22 images, each one depicting different parts of the wedding and afterparty, including the kiss at the end. And the kiss at the end? I was gonna feature every character from the 3 main classes + Ruruka, Seiko, and Yasuke. Fucking why??? Because Excess is all I know people ITS ALL I KNOW.

However I had decided that I wanted this project finished and ready before October, because I wanted to do the Vampire Fic to coincide with Day 30. And again, say it with me here, “Jem was severely burnt out on the project!”

So it went from 22 images, to “However many I can get done in time + the big group shot” and then that became “Just the big group shot,” and then finally, i cracked and just drew The Kiss.

Speaking of which before I divulge some more info about the original plan, i’ll get all the fun things about the actual art I did go through with.

As you can tell I shaded this differently from anything in the project. I normally have two different ways of shading art, I don’t think these are the proper words but I call them Soft Shading and Hard Shading. If you need immediate examples, Day 95 was Soft Shaded, and Day 94 was Hard Shaded. Generally speaking I prefer to do Hard Shading, as I think it works better with the rest of my style, and also just looks better in general. Soft Shading is what I do for pics with like, a very specific tone and energy to them that I can’t really put to words. It’s also significantly easier to do compared to Hard Shading.

A few months back for a commission of Kaede and Marceline from Adventure Time hanging out (yes this is relevant) I was trying to capture a very specific aesthetic that I’m obsessed with called Frutiger Aero. This mostly was in the background, however when lighting the pic I needed a very specific aesthetic that I didn’t know how to capture with just one of my shading styles. So . . . I fuckin did both. And in my opinion (which is crazy because this requires I compliment myself) it looked fuckin great. That said it was significantly harder.

I think I’ve done it only one other time after this, but I don’t remember what the pic was if it exists at all. But obviously as you can see, I decided that to really commemorate the occasion I’d go all out and do both shading styles again. It was very worth it, but fun fact! Doing this style on Roses is a fucking pain in the ass and if I ever have to do it again I will fucking SCREAM!

Anyway, the pic was definitely a lot harder to work on because of that stylistic choice, but the end result makes up for it by a massive margin.

Hope ya’ll like the dresses because they were the hardest part of this! Fun fact, Val (She’s back!) did a chapter for her legendary Year of Love and Despair fic where the gals are in wedding dresses. And the designs she came up with are amazing! I still really wanna draw em when I get a chance! However! I woulda felt bad if I just yoinked em for this, so I had to do everything in my power to come up with completely different designs. And given that I am a perfectionist, that was significantly more difficult than it probably shoulda been. But I did it! I really like how Mikan’s dress turned out specifically, I thought giving her a fit that covered up more skin than a normal wedding dress would be fitting for her. Also I really like drawing Mikan’s hair in a bun, I never had a chance to say that so I’mma say that now.

Wow fuck I just realized there’s probably a lot of random details or thought processes I have on this ship that I just never got an opportunity to talk about, either because I had a different topic to cover on previous posts, or I just forgot, or I just didn’t have a good segway! Crazy right?

Also yes! Shading Junko’s hair was heavenly~

Okay i’ve run out of words on the art. Time to tell you about everything I cut! Now I’m sad to say but no, I didn’t actually cut 22 planned images. I never got far enough to actually figure out each individual pic. Only a small handful, which I almost speedily sketched out for this post, but I don’t have it in me, especially on my current schedule. So i’ll just do my best to describe what I had in mind!

First piece would have been Mukuro being on Security for the Wedding, because of course. She would have also enlisted the help of Mondo and his entire gang, because that combination in this context sounds funny. Don’t worry though they were well behaved.

Ruruka was gonna handle the Wedding Cake, with Teruteru on the rest of the food. Either Ruruka or Mukuro would have been giving him a death glare during the process of course.

Behind the scenes Mikan would be getting prepped for the Wedding. And by prepped I mean Seiko, Ibuki, and Sayaka would be trying very hard to keep Mikan from crying as a result of how happy and overwhelmed she is (Ruining her makeup). Seiko trying to blow air into her eyes to keep them dry while Sayaka and Ibuki desperately try to find an outlet to plug in a hairdryer in because that would be significantly more efficient.

On the reverse, Junko would be doing all of the work on prepping herself for the wedding, with Ruruka, Yasuke and Tsumugi standing in the background, questioning why they’re even there. Junko would yell at them that they’re morale support in this instance.

Warriors of Hope would of course be there being scamps of course, Kotoko would be the Flower Girl because I play favorites. Toko and Komaru would probably be there trying to keep them in line.

I didn’t have anything in mind with the afterparty but I more than likely would have drawn the drunkest Junko I possibly could. Maybe even Mikan too!

For the Bouquet Throwing I was gonna have Syo jumping at it like a feral animal, and thinking about it now I’d probably also have Tenko jumping for it with killing intent in her eyes.

And I think that’s it for ideas I had prior to cutting them. Which means it’s time for me to get sappy about the fact that the project is finally ending! Fuck! Usually when I write these I try to have a decent idea ahead of time of what I’m gonna fucking say, this time however I’m just gonna talk, and i’m gonna keep talking until I’m either struck down by nature or I run out of things to say. Sorry!

This is going to get silly, sappy, and maybe even a little venty, jump in at your own risk.

If you told me at the beginning of 2024 that I was going to draw 100 days worth of Junkan related art, including a gif and a music video, 2 comics, and also get back into writing to make gay fanfic, I’d be so god damn confused. Because what the fuck right? And that’s not even counting everything I drew AFTER I fuckin finished! Like hold on a minute i’m gonna count up how many times i’ve drawn these two, including the individual comic pages from the three i’ve made.

204.

Fucking, I. I didn’t even know we passed 200 by this point.

And that’s not counting the sketches I’ve drawn on paper in my sketchbook. It’s also not counting unfinished pics. It ain’t counting the art I might draw WHILE writing this! It’s not counting the stuff I probably forgot about while searching my files cause I suck at naming the aforementioned files!

AND I’M STILL NOT BURNED OUT EITHER?

I got burned out on the project sure but the moment I had the freedom to do whatever I wanted I fucking IMMEDIATELY drew a Junkan pic for Halloween. And then I kept going, and then I didn’t fucking stop, and I don’t think I CAN stop! I don’t even WANT to stop but you’d think by now I’d be like “Well I don’t have any ideas right now-” NO I HAVE TOO FUCKING MANY IDEAS! I KEEP FUCKING THINKING OF MORE IDEAS, AND THEN I COME UP WITH AN AU AND THAT COULD HAVE LIKE 10,000 MORE IDEAS. JUNKAN IS A MENTAL HYDRA YOU DRAW ONE PIC 2 MORE POP UP IN ITS PLACE!

I can draw these pieces in like a few hours if not shorter, because I don’t have to fucking sketch them properly anymore. I feel like I shouldn’t be able to do that! This ship has done unspeakable things to both my mind and body! And i’ve said it before but i’m not trying to complain here, as you’ll see when I start talking about this ship like it saved me from falling into the grand canyon. But it’s just, so, absurd???

Danganronpa is only like my third favorite piece of media behind Bo-bobo and Fairy Tail and yet I’ve drawn more art of JUST THIS SHIP than I have of just general art of those series! That’s not even counting all the other ship art I’ve done! Like Tokomaru! Remember Tokomaru? The ship that is responsible for me being a woman and being able to find the happiness of being my true self? I think i’ve drawn that and Syomaru a combined like, 20 times across my entire life as a DR fan. ALL OF THIS JUNKAN ART SAY FOR LIKE, 5 OF THEM WERE IN ONE YEAR.

And bare minimum for 2025, assuming I don’t make ANYTHING ELSE OF THEM (Which I will. You know I will.) I’m gonna draw 21 pics for Junkan Week, because you know I’m gonna just draw EVERY prompt from all three lists. And then 30 more for the Month of Junkan (Will try to have that prompt list up soon btw!). So that’s 51 I’m going to do. That’s over half of what I realistically was supposed to do bare minimum for this project. That’s so fucking much, and I’m gonna do it, because I love this ship, and also it sounds REALLY funny if I did that.

I think genuinely the only other ships I could fucking do this for are like, Toko/Syomaru or Flarelu. Maybe Togachako if I did a reread of MHA to get me back in the spirit for that series. And even then i’m not sure I physically have it in me to go that distance even for those ships. I certainly want to draw a lot of them, especially Flarelu because that’s a ship so rare that it makes Soft Junkan (before I fucking flooded the tag on tumblr) look like a bustling city.

Speaking of tags, I still think about sometimes how like, the Junkan Tag maybe got like, a post like, a few times every month. The normal amount for a ship of this general Rarity. And now it’s like, for so many pages, just half of it is me. Because I was asked to bring something to eat to the function for the buffet table and I fucking crashed a Food Truck through the wall. I feel bad about it sometimes, sometimes. I’m imagining the scenario in my head where someone who likes Junkan but didn’t check the tag super often because it wasn’t like, a super commonly updated one, and then pressing it for the first time in a year and being like “What the fuck happened here?” You know what still shocks me? Not once have I gotten hate for any of this. I was so fucking scared for like half of this projects creation that I was going to get bombarded with people angry at me for shipping this, and NOTHING. I’m not complaining I’m just confused. I have to at least have had a few people block me right? It’s just so eerily quiet. And it’d be one thing if it’s just a thing of like “Why would people who hate Junkan check the Junkan tag” because yeah, that makes sense. But also I’ve been putting at least one Junkan pic in both characters tags every day for 3 fucking months, there had to be at least one Mikan super fan who is eternally fed up with my antics. Like, awesome that I didn’t get harassed over a ship, that actually gives me a little hope that nature is healing, just. Crazy right???

So like. Fuck.

I guess I’ll get to the sappy shit now?? I think I ran out of things to be confused about in terms of what I did this year because of this ship. So I guess I’ll just start talking about how much it means to me, both the ship, and this project.

(trigger warning, mentions of abuse, nothing super graphic in my opinion but could be mildly uncomfortable. Either skim ahead or stop here)

2024 kinda, fuckin sucked for me to be honest?? I have like 2 good things I can speak for it in terms of major positive points (Obviously I had other good experiences but if I just said “Oh I read a I Love Amy and it was one of the greatest things ever” it lacks the same impact). Not counting getting this project to like, work, obviously.

I finished the 5 chapters of my webcomic that I wanted prepped so I could actually make a website and start posting (ignore how I didn’t make the fuckin website yet). And I started dating my darling Yves and Rivette. Who I cherish deeply. I made other friends this year, a lot of them in part cause of this ship. And I went through a lot of emotional change.

But to get that change it required I unpack a lot. And by a lot, I mean one bag that was filled to the brim. Gonna try real hard not to like, talk about this in excessive detail or turn this post into some woe is me bullshit, but I feel like I should at least make mention of it.

At the beginning of the year, I asked Yves (who I wasn’t dating yet) about my previous romantic relationship. And she confirmed to me that, based on everything I had told her about it overtime, that yes, it was abusive.

During 2021-2022 I was in a relationship with a girl I won’t name here, you wouldn’t know her of course, it was a completely different community. It started out as friends, I got a crush, jumped at it because I was still inexperienced with feelings, and it didn’t work out. And that’s the simple way of putting it, and that’s how I viewed it till Yves opened my eyes.

From the getgo it wasn’t healthy. She was manipulative, constantly had outbursts towards me, and yanked me around emotionally constantly. I would later find out that she had a previous history of just, generally being an awful person. Even after we broke up we still stuck around each other, mostly because I felt guilty for breaking up with her, and was also just generally terrified of her. The abuse was all mental of course, it was long distance so she couldn’t hurt me physically at all.

I of course, didn’t process any of that as me being abused, I even viewed myself as being at fault for a lot of it. The experience was so bad that I identified as Aromantic because just convinced I wasn’t able to feel proper romantic feelings for someone. It wasn’t till much later when I got another crush that I realized that I’m Panromantic, and me being Aro (and very briefly Aegoromantic) was basically just a coping mechanism to write off my trauma. I still feel guilty about that since it feels like I devalued the importance of people who do identify on the Aro spectrum, but that isn’t relevant here.

Point is, a lot of bad shit happened to me because of that woman, and even after a year and a half of us not talking because we both mutually decided it would be better for us to not stay in contact, she still found ways to worm her way back into my life. One conversation we had just by chance, to catch up, that’s all it took and I was thinking of her again. I never talked to her after that, and I have her blocked now, but I didn’t need to for shit to hit the fan.

So I asked Yves that question, she answered, and I now suddenly had to deal with the fact that I was abused, and that I was traumatized as a result. And like, I never really viewed myself as a traumatized person up till that point, I viewed myself as someone who wasn’t very smart but tried her best to do good by people who didn’t have too much baggage beyond some sucky school memories.

When I had to unpack what happened that kind of spiraled into severe Self Confidence Issues and even more Self Hate. I struggled to accept even the slightest compliment if it wasn’t directed at my art. The reason I even quit weed is because I used it almost exclusively to suppress all of the negative emotions I felt.

I’m in a somewhat better place now, I’m trying to give myself more breaks from artwork, rather than overworking myself constantly just to feel something (and being fully open, I realized near the end of december that I pretty much used Overworking as a form of self harm). I’m gonna really try this year to like, actually let people be nice to me, and in turn try to be nicer to myself. And I have goals to work towards for this year. But I wouldn’t have gotten to this point without two things. One, my girlfriend Yves, who even before we started dating helped me through multiple breakdowns and has helped/allowed me to grow into a (I hope) better, healthier person. And even after I got over most of my feelings related to my Ex, has continued to help me cope with my self hatred. I cherish every moment we share and wouldn’t trade her for anything.

And the other thing, which I know will sound silly right after I talked about my girlfriend, is well. Junkan.

Let me say this, I didn’t get into Junkan to cope with my abuse. I have toyed with the notion in my head before and the idea of it pisses me off to a quite frankly irrational degree. I was into Junkan before I realized my issues. If you want my coping mechanism it’s Alex from Minecraft and no I’m not explaining that right now.

That said, it, like all the yuri ships I like, was a source of comfort for me. Originally I read stuff like Tokomaru fics just to help me reduce stress, back when I dealt with really severe anger issues due to the online spaces I occupied. And to this day reading a nice, fluff fic can calm me down a bit. But now they can serve a much deeper sense of comfort, away from all the bullshit, and obviously, gave me a way to distract/calm myself from the storm of negative emotions and memories that filled the brain.

I see myself in Mikan more than I’d like to personally admit, obviously not to the extreme, but in aspects. So it’s just, nice to see a better timeline for her with Junko, ones where she gets to be happy and maybe even heal as well. It just so happens that I also think there’s a lot of genuinely good potential for the ship from either a canon or non-canon perspective, and Junko’s just a really enjoyable character.

Working on this project helped too. It gave me a way to dive deeper into my love for this ship, and gave me a sense of purpose and validation that helped me work through the rough. Whether it was the really bad mental health days, or just a shit streak of commission work that tore away at me because my job even if I love drawing can be a real drag at times, and i’m unfortunately a workaholic (Trying to work on it though).

I think i’ve said it before but even something simple as Val showing her excitement over the art pieces I was prepping could genuinely brighten my day even while I was at my lowest.

And then when I really started pursuing this as a project, rather than just a secret stash to satiate myself and one other person minimum, I realized I could do something good here. For the people like me who loved this ship but might have been too nervous about expressing it, the people who were just really craving it, and the people who had already made all of the fics and art that sent me into this spiral of obsessive passion in the first place! A gift to all of them, to make ya’ll happy.

In hindsight, may not like, the healthiest mindset for setting off this whole project. But hey it all kinda circled around into eventually helping my mental health recover. So like, win?

And i’ve already spoken on how Day 60 allowed me to feel a lot more emotionally free as an artist even if I still have my struggle days. I’ve gotten better just in general as an artist as I improve more at stuff like expressions, posing, linework, etc. And I’ve even managed to make friends with some of the people I used to look up to as idols and can finally just view em as normal people now. (Even if I might still be a bit excessive in my praise, I swear I’m normal about ya’ll besties I just don’t have like, a middleground for showing my appreciation and affection for my friends. It’s maxed out unless I’m tired as shit)

I find myself comedically terrified of how this ship has affected me over the course of 2024, and how it will likely continue to affect me through 2025 even as I try to move onto other projects not related to Junkan. I wanna show off my love for Fairy Tail on my main blog, and I really think that with a full years time and the first five chapters done I really can get my comic off the ground and focus on that for the foreseeable future.

But hey, 2025 at least we got two whole Junkan Events. And with Junkan Week I’d like to keep that going for as long as I can, unless someone else takes the reins way down the line. So this ol’ blog’ll keep going for a good while I imagine, even if it’s a lot smaller. Maybe I’ll find other ways to keep this place active, I’ve considered just making it a one stop shop for all things Junkan though I don’t think I’m really suited to manage that. Maybe someone’ll read this and try there hand at it down the line, maybe someone’ll do their own 100 Days of Junkan!

Oh hey did I ever tell ya’ll I was gonna make a comedic video just making a guideline for how one could make their own 100 Days Project. It was gonna be like, pretty obvious points just framed in a very exaggerated and comedic tone.

Alright anything else I should cover? Fun facts? Deep personal anecdotes? Sappy stuff?

Lemme check my files, maybe i got another dumb joke image-

. . .

Oh . . . Well there’s somethin.

Alright, don’t get to excited ya’ll, but just for a bit of fun, how about one last day in the project. I know 101 days doesn’t roll of the tongue as well, but I think this is vaguely interesting enough to make up for that! Tune in tomorrow. Same time, same place.

As always, Reblogs, Comments, and Little Notes in the Tags are appreciated!~ They always make my day!~

#danganronpa #junkan #junko enoshima #mikan tsumiki #junkomikan #enomiki #junko x mikan #enoshima junko #tsumiki mikan #shipping

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francesderwent · 3 days ago

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it’s interesting to me how close songs like “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” or “The Manuscript” get to a robust ethics of love versus use. beyond simply the assertion that leaving is a betrayal of love which ought to be forever, these songs contain a pretty strong rejection, specifically of sex where it did not belong and had no business appearing. she can say, not just you leaving was cowardly, you ruined something real, but I regret you all the time—I wouldn’t do it all over again, any of it. not just you hurt me within the bounds of our love story, but this wasn’t above board at all. it wasn’t love. you took advantage. another way to say this: “Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve” and “The Manuscript” recognize that sometimes sex is a sin. not leaving afterwards, but sex itself. for the first time, we’re presented with a love story that couldn’t have been saved by an eleventh hour confession of love, by “don’t go” or “I want you for worse or for better” or “the worst thing that I ever did was what I did to you”. the whole thing is rejected as poisoned.

but these songs can only make such a strong statement because there’s the age gap to point to. to the modern mind, it’s easier to recognize use when there’s a clear power imbalance, but I think we’re getting the causation wrong, or at least oversimplifying it. the reason there shouldn’t be sexual relationships between people of drastically different ages isn’t that older people and younger people exist as such in relationships of imbalanced power. a healthy relationship between a mentor and a mentee or a teacher and a student is about guidance and education and protection and respect. these things aren’t “good” exercises of power or restrained power, they are not exercises of power at all.

power enters into the equation when one party decides to use the other. this choice transforms every difference in the relationship into an inequality, every imbalance into a threat. this wasn’t always secretly there under the relationship, it’s a totally transformed new kind of relationship now that use has entered into it. the more differences and asymmetries there are to start with, the more dramatically unequal the new relationship is—not because the relationship was bad inevitably and to begin with! but because these relationships are more vulnerable and so bringing use into them is a greater corruption, which magnifies the damage that is always there. even a perfectly “equal” relationship becomes a power struggle when use enters into it.

but the further step which is invisible to modern eyes is that sex, outside of marriage, does this all on its own. somebody who sleeps with you without marrying you is using you, full stop. and as much as I think this revelation is between the lines of Tortured Poets (and I do think that, it’s in the parallels between the two men!), she can’t face it head-on. there is no she thought about how he said since they loved each other, everything had been above board…she wasn’t sure. because modernity is so convinced that that has to be above board. so the closest thing we get to a song that speaks to that creeping feeling that she was used again is the mashup of Sweet Nothing and Hoax, and her derisive conclusion: all that you ever wanted from me was sweet nothing.

#the older I get the less convinced I am by ethics that translate everything into terms of power #power is not the only force in the world! it is ONE kind!#and it is entirely possible to have relationships that are not tainted by it let alone defined by it!#love is a ruthless game UNLESS you play it good and right!!!#no more keeping score now I just keep you warm!!#no more tug of war now I just know there’s more!#the fears of the archer are UNTRUE not everything comes down to combat in the end!#there are QUALITATIVELY different relationships not just shades of gray #this is me admitting I need a music tag

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vampirejohn · 1 day ago

Note

And if I want snippets from all 3 WIPs?????

spike ily quite literally anything for you

and i still call home is the big bang sized preseries deanjohn fic nobody asked for. dean gets john to let him and sam stay in town while sam finishes school (and dean gets to play housewife!!). he doesn't exactly mention it's so sam can go to college, which ofc ends well (i'm lying 😈)

He rolled on his side and spread a nervous hand over John’s waist, and then moved down to feel the hard, thick length of him through his jeans. He had to bite back a groan, his own cock twitching valiantly at the thought of getting to see it, really see it, not just in casual passing the way you did when you lived with someone your whole life. But then John took his wrist, pushed him off. “It’s okay,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m good like this.” “But—” Bemused, Dean shifted sort of awkwardly. “It just… doesn’t seem all that fair to you.” John’s eyes narrowed, the line of his mouth going flat and mean. “Why don’t you let me worry about what’s fair to me?” Dean rolled onto his back again so he didn’t have to look at him, hot behind his ears. Maybe this was new for John—and that was admirable, really—but Dean didn’t remember a time when it wasn’t like this for him. The wanting was born somewhere between tucking him in and holding his hands steady around pistols and pool cues and watch out for Sammy, between dental floss stitches in motel bathrooms and it was never supposed to be like this and it’s okay, Dad and you really want to talk about Sam right now? Dean had been capable of this during all of it.

deanjohn dv screening ✨

“You know we’ve been here a couple of hours already, right? Costs an arm and a leg to park here, too.” “There’s a bit of a wait for the X-ray machine, unfortunately. We’re a smaller hospital.” The nurse was still pulling and turning Dean’s wrist, like there was some threshold of pain she had to put him in before she was allowed to give him some goddamned painkillers. “I promise we’ll get him in as soon as we can.” She raised her eyes to Dean’s for a moment, and he took the opportunity to give her an apologetic smile, the one reserved for civilians caught up in John’s wrath. She didn’t return it, mouth turning down into a frown for just a split second. Finally, she let Dean go, turning her attention on John. “Sir, would you mind stepping out for just one second? There’s a few more diagnostics we’d like to run on Dean.” John’s eyes narrowed infinitesimally, only noticeable if you knew to look for it. “I’m good here,” he said, planting his feet more firmly. Dean rolled his eyes. “It’s fine. Do whatever you have to do.” She studied Dean for a moment, and then nodded decisively. “Alright. Give me a few moments.” She wasn’t out of the room two seconds before John said, “The hell was that about?” Dean was busy trying to find a comfortable position to lay his wrist in his lap. “They think you’re beating me,” he snapped. He watched John’s face turn to stone. “And why the hell would they think that?” “Because you’re being an asshole.” Dean stopped to hiss as a twinge of shocky pain shot up his arm. “Look. If they try to get me alone again, just play along, alright? So we can get off their radar.”

deanjohn abo au is my s1 au deanjohn/samdean double feature, where sam figures out that dean let john claim him and goes absolutely bonkers over it

“You’re fucking deranged. You think you're defending my honor or something? Because I got news for you—ever since you found out, you’ve been stomping around, whining like a jealous bitch. Spineless too, like pretending this is about Dad makes it okay. There something you want from me, Sam? Speak up.” Sam didn’t, only pressed his arm harder across Dean’s throat when he tried to move again. Dean’s mouth curled into a nasty grin. “It’s driving you crazy, isn’t it? Thinking about him on top of me. His knot inside me. D’you think about me begging for it? ‘Cause I do, Sammy, I beg him to shove it so deep I can’t fucking breathe, to put me on my knees and fucking knock me up. Just curious—would you prefer a little brother or a sister?” “You don’t have to convince me you’re a fucking whore, Dean.” The last thing Dean remembered before the world tilted and went black was rearing back and spitting in Sam’s face.

#all three of these feature domestic violence i'm realizing i have a Thing oops #my fic #ty spike <333

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cupids-carnival · 1 day ago

Text

i actually Have More thoughts i’d like to add…. if you even care…………….. random facts & info abt this au below the cut! :D i actually thought about it more this time and even if it’s not fleshed out fully i hope u like it ^_^ i might even write a fic about this……. if my motivation will let me and you guys like it…………..

(for added context, this iteration of squid games works a little differently then the og one did, and the characters aren’t really meant to replace the original ones !!!!! :D also a teeny bit ooc but they’re in A Death gameso………….tbh i’m mostly saying that to cover up my plot holes but SHH!!!!!!!!!!!)

clown snuck a dagger inside of the games !!!!!!!! like sae-byeok did!!!!!!!! constantly wishes he had his sycthe back though

there’s also some other lifestealers there …….. ash & squiddo team up in the marbles game . take that as you will……..

evbo— like gi-hun— is really stubborn about his morals, believing most of the people in the games are good people and don’t deserve to be put in the games. but unlike gi-hun, he has no problem indirectly or directly killing people, like how he is parkour civ ! it doesn’t mean he doesn’t regret it / feel guilty about it, just that he doesn’t have a problem with it in the moment if it means he gets to survive and pursue his goals (ending the games/saving his friends, and other people)

the reason evbo is in debt is Because he impulsively Bought A Whole House. a nod to pvp evbo and the whole pvp mansion thing LOLL

evbo and emf ended up pairing together for the marbles game (emf ended up losing)

seawatt ended up betraying ally (ali reference) HARD in the marble games, basically manipulating them like sang-woo did and stole all their marbles. doesn’t really regret this, even if he’s a little guilty about it. willing to do anything to survive in the games

the reason seawatt & ally ended up in the games is basically a punishment, or a repaying of debt. they, both former guards, got in BIG trouble with the front man / evil champion, so they were basically forced to play the games as a form of punishment. seawatt was pretty confident the evil champion wouldn’t kill him— as he was a pretty high ranking guard, to the point he was almost like his right hand man, like in park civ— until he got Dangerously close to dying and got saved by evbo, which pushed him to join evbo’s group since evbo was already showing that he was willing to protect seawatt in some form (and also made him realize he wasn’t as protected as he thought he was). ally ended up joining evbo & seawatt since ally vaguely knew seawatt from the time they were gaurds & thought evbo as a good person, but also really naive.

the final three are clown, seawatt, and evbo.

clown takes sang-woo’s place in this, as he ends up killing an injured seawatt while evbo isn’t looking.

seawatt, while dying, does end up saying something along the lines of “for what it's worth, I was telling the truth when I said I enjoyed working with you” to evbo. evbo, despite already knowing of seawatt’s betrayal to him (due to him working w the evil champion) is wracked with guilt because of this. he still sometimes wonders if seawatt truly meant it even after the games were over! :D

instead of clown sacrificing himself for evbo though, or both of them choosing to end the games willingly, evbo is forced to kill clown as the other man was way too angry and filled with grief from having branzy— one of the only people he was genuinely close to in the games (and also may or may not be his first and last crush)— die, so there was no point to try to end things peacefully in clowns eyes. ofc, there’s other reasons- like clowns innate desire to win, the fact he had both his life on the line and money to win for him and his sister. evbo feels super guilty about this, because even if clown was an enemy for most of the games, he still saw how human clown was in the end; and that fact still keeps him up at night. esp in the marbles game, while he was still grief-stricken about emf, he saw how sad and vunerable clown was after branzy died (even if the other man never admitted it, and aggressively pushed evbo away when evbo tried to reach out). evbo can only hope that clown is happy w branzy in the afterlife!! :D

the reason why i wanted branzy to end up sacrificing himself for clown!!! it was to have a kaboodle cameo in there!!! :D clown ends (vaguely) mentioning his little sister, kaboodle, and branzy decided to willingly die because he knew clown would have a better usage of the money then branzy would, having a family to come back to (even if it was just a sister- still, branzy could see how much she meant to clown through how he’d speak abt her, even though he’d never met her personally!) when branzy had little to none. branzy ended up joining the games to pay off his debt, as with all the other people, but as his literal creditor was also in the games with him & the fact he ended up developing a genuine connection with the guy (to the point clown even offered to let go of his debt if they both made it out of there) left him with little reason to even use the money, so he decides to sacrifice himself! besides, clown is obviously destined for more, something great, right? and this money would surely push him to that fate:O

lastly, in clown and branzy’s last talk, branzy ends up half-jokingly mentioning running a casino together & getting married for tax benefits once they’re out of the games, which is the in-universe replacement for the whole jeju island & mojitos bit in the original squid games :D

now that i’ve rewatched squid games i’ve realized how much of a squid games au can work with all my favs…………………. slight squid games spoilers ahead!!!!!!! but also you need to watch squid games to like understand half of this lmfaooooo

squid games with evbo being the winner / “champion”, the front man being the evil, ex champion / winner, seawatt, one of evbos allies, secretly working w the gaurds / the front man, emf being evbos closest ally/friend, their entire friendship being born out of circumstances but them still being best friends anyway…. ally being someone who works with seawatt & the front man but telling evbo about seawatt anyway since they think he has a good shot of winning and doesn’t want too see him get betrayed… clown being one of evbos enemies and the parkour god being like 001 (the old man version lol) in which the cookie god tells evbo like. crucial information about the games

branzy in squid games lowkey being in debt with clown and being one of the most physically weak players (especially if lifestealers are also there) but clown protecting branzy anyway because he’s cute, but also because he’s really smart and strategic about these games— and branzy ends up accidentally saving clowns life like three times because he always comes up with a plan last minute,, clown relying on his physical strength for most games, but also being logical and calculated, which pushes him to team up with branzy because he can see the potential in him,, branzy is so confused because it looks like clown is fine on his own, with sharp thinking but also the strength to keep him safe, but clown ?? teams up with him anyway?? even when he knows branzy is in debt to him (judging based off of the vague threats clown says to him occasionally) AND THEN to add to it, branzy ends up betraying subz & vitalasy in an early game ( idk what his reasoning was though lmfao ) and then people urge clown to stay away from branzy because he’s a “known betrayer” but clown teaming up with him anyway… branzy ending up being extremely loyal to the very end, because they end up forming a genuine connection, which is the marbles game where they team up but end up being opponents………… branzy willingly gives up his life for clown ( ji-yeong style ) and clown is DEVASTATED

#writing all this with a smile on my face #clownzy #branzypierce #branzycraft #clownpierce #evbo pkciv #parkour civilization #evbos master friend #parkour civilization seawatt #( ash&squiido are barely mentioned but they’re here)#lifesteal #lifesteal au #parkour civilization au

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aninipanin1 · 4 hours ago

Note

I think that Anri begs adult manager! reader to force Ego to eat an actual meal that isn’t those instant noodles

EW, VEGETABLES...?

Notes: I actually love this so much, anon lol

"Good morning, Anri-san. How may I help you today?"

You greeted your fellow female manager, figure hunched over the washing machine, scrubbing the white linen sheets from the many rooms around the facility, especially the one that legit had an oyster sauce spill, leaving a spot darkened.

Anri gave her a large smile, one that is familiar, at first before her, she reached some sort of 'Eureka' moment, and her smile turned into one of disappointment she did not think of it earlier along with a hint of mischief in it.

"Actually, can you help me with something, Y/n?"

"Oh, of course! What do I do?"

The redhaired manager motioned for her to come closer, to which she followed. Cupping her hand around your ear, Anri whispered the 'task' she wanted you to do.

As she spoke, the wider your eyes became. How will you even pull this off?

"But, Anri-san..! You know how much he loves his noodles...and how he doesn't really like me."

You always thought that Ego Jinpachi, the head and director of the Blue Lock facility, never seemed to like you. He wasn't rude to you (you think because he talked to you the way he did to everyone else), but you can definitely see that he would go out of his way to avoid talking to you, approaching you or anything related to talking with you alone without Anri, unless it was something prefessional and work-related.

He also always scolds you. You know, it was just because of the betterment of the project. But why did he have to scold you for just being around Noel Noa or any of the master strikers? They were the ones handling the improvement of the boys. Of course, you need to be around them! Well, it was one of the many things you noticed, but you digressed. After all, you know you cannot please everyone, especially in a workplace environment.

So, you were a little shocked when Anri tilted her head at you, confused about your claim.

"Ego-san...doesn't like you?"

"Um, isn't it obvious, Anri-san? He doesn't really like talking to me at all, and when you aren't there with us, he will always avoid talking to me even if I try to make casual conversations! Also, he always scolds me for the stupidest reasons! Why does he get mad when I talk to Noa-san, Snuffy-san, Prince-san, or even Lavinho-san, I will never understand! It's my job to make sure that the boys are doing well and I can only make sure of that through the master strikers!"

You did not know when you started ranting, but you did. Anri, who listened to you with open ears, could not help but chuckle on the inside. She felt quite amused and also disappointed at Ego. But, she cannot say she was not surprised. Ego was one, if not the most emotionally constipated person she had ever met. It was not a surprise that he would try to avoid you.

But, why did he have to do all those things? It wasn't helping his cause at all!

'You better thank me for what I am doing, Ego-san.'

"Ego-san! Um..."

You stood there in the office where the said man was watching the many screens, watching over the progress of the players who were all training in their own ways. In your hands was a tray filled with sautéed vegetables, a bowl of rice, and some chicken in a bowl you cooked just for the man.

Even if you think he hates you, you can not just ignore someone who is literally putting their life in danger because they don't want to eat healthy things. You aren't messed up like that!

But, you did not know how to approach this, much less him. How will you even ask him to do this, much less with the strained relationship you two had? This was a really bad idea! Why did Anri have to approach you of all people for this-

"What is it?"

He turned his swivel chair to face you, his eyes a bit lidded to show that he was not that happy for being interrupted.

"I made some extra food, and uh...I thought you may want to have it."

'That's so stupid, Y/n!'

He raised an eyebrow at this, and it did not help that the look on his face showed that he did not approve of eating the pallate on the tray.

"Y/n-chan, you know I don't eat those things."

"I know...! I just didn't want to waste it. Anri-san said she already ate so..."

Ego did not say anything, turning his swivel chair to face the screens again. Just as you were about to give up and leave the room thinking that he would not accept the food at all, he raised his arm and pointed to an empty space on the desk.

"Put it there. Don't blame me if I don't eat it and it becomes rotten."

Blinking at his words, you just nodded your head, a bit dazed that he actually considered even being near the food. You did as he told before bowing and leaving to do your other chores and duties.

Needless to say, when Anri entered Ego's office, she was shocked to see the man munching on a bowl of rice with chicken and vegetables on top. His eyes were still focused on the screen, back hunched in a weird position, but he was indeed eating.

"Did Y/n pass by here..?"

"She did. Dropped this...abomination and her paperwork."

Ego answered, pointing to the food that he called 'abomination,' yet he was still eating the food, cheeks round with food. Anri nodded, yet it was obvious she did not believe the disgusted look in his face to which he only glared at her for.

"You're the one who said it. The facility should not waste food." He pointed his chopstick at her.

"Yeah, yeah. It's totally not because you favour her, definitely not." Anri shrugged, a cheeky smile as she headed out the room once she dropped the paperwork.

'I'm surrounded by simps, haahh...' She inwardly sighed.

ADDITIONAL TIME!

Anri: You like her.

Ego: No, I don't.

Also Ego: *proceeds to hoard every single thing Y/n gave him, yes, even if it was the inkless pen she passed to him to throw in the trash.*

I'm sorry if this was too short, hahaha. I didn't really know how to go deeper into this. But I hope you loved this!

Blue Lock is WRITTEN by Kaneshiro Muneyuki and ILLUSTRATED by Nomura Yusuke. All credits to the both of them.

#blue lock #bllk #bluelockxreader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x manager!reader #manager reader #aninipanin1 #ego jinpachi #bllk ego #ego x reader #anri teieri

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persephone-writes · 10 hours ago

Text

A Diviner's Guide to James Potter

Chapter Eighteen: Innamorati

James Potter x Fem!Gryffindor!Reader

Chapter Seventeen ☆ Series Masterlist

Description: Presents, dueling practice, and parties, oh my!

Word Count: 8.8k

Notes: I know that drinking games are more of an american thing, but I am simply choosing to ignore this fact because they are fun and no one can tell me they aren’t

James had made his decision and it was final. Instead of getting drunk in the RoR to celebrate his birthday, he’d go out looking for the map once again. Unwilling to hear out any arguments, you all headed back to the tower, though not without some complaints from Sirius.

In the meantime, you waited with Lily and Marlene as the others went into the common room after dinner to check if Zephyr was there. You had insisted that it was fine if he was, given that you’d have to see them all eventually, though it made little difference. Luckily, the coast was clear, allowing you all to sit by the fire and celebrate in peace.

“Does it smell like fish in the Slytherin common room?” Marlene whispered to Remus, who was sitting beside her on the sofa.

He shrugged. “Not really, no. Why do you ask?”

“Isn’t it half under the lake?”

You laughed, even more when she turned to you in confusion, her brows furrowed. “Even if it did, I’m sure it’d be charmed to take away the smell.”

James looked up from his spot on the floor where he was playing a game of exploding snap with Peter and Sirius, his face contorted in disgust. “Even if it’s charmed, it still stinks.”

You rolled your eyes. “It could smell like roses and frankincense and you’d say it was like a pile of hot rubbish.”

“It’s hurtful you’d even suggest—”

“We’ll skip you if you don’t stop flirting,” said Sirius, his arm propped on his leg as he smiled in that evil way he seemed to save only for your torment.

Your ears went hot, your eyes shooting over to Lily in the armchair, still engrossed in her book. She did not look up, turning a page as James said something disparaging to Sirius. He turned back around, still bickering as he flipped over his card. A pop went off, a small explosion erupting in the middle of their circle. They all jumped back, the smoke lingering in the air as they hollered.

*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*

You cringed as the floorboards squeaked under your feet, the early morning sunlight a shimmering yellow where it filtered in through the diamond window panes. No one sturred in their beds, not that you could hear, anyway. You continued towards the bathroom, only half awake and wishing you were still tucked underneath your blanket. Even the day after his birthday, which should’ve been spent sleeping in after a night of fun, James wanted to practice.

“Tomorrow, six am. If you’re not at the staircase by then, I’ll figure out a way to come up.”

“Why six? Can’t we do it at seven or—”

“Sorry, sweetheart. I have practice at eight-thirty, then I have to actually start doing some schoolwork or I’ll flunk the N.E.W.T.s. And I meant it about figuring out a way up.”

You got ready as quickly as you could, fussing far too much over the way you looked given that you were seeing a friend under entirely unromantic circumstances. Still, you couldn’t help but stare a little longer in the mirror than usual, feeling as though you needed a cold shower.

Beating away your nerves, you brought your bag with you, James’s birthday present safe inside. This would be the only time you’d get him alone today, and the thought of giving it to him in front of the others made your stomach drop. There was something that seemed too intimate about doing it in the company of anyone else, as if it would give you away, as demure as the gesture was. It was just a birthday gift, completely ordinary.

Just as he said, James was waiting for you at the bottom of the girl’s staircase, twirling his wand like a drummer. He had tried to teach you how to do it once, though you never got the hang of it, always sending it flying across the room.

When he heard you coming down he smiled, raising his brows at your tired eyes.

“It’s not that early,” he said, putting his wand back in his pocket. “I could’ve made you get up at five.”

“They call it a holiday for a reason,” you groaned, though it only made him laugh. He led you to the portrait, holding it open for you as you stepped out. “Did you have any luck last night?” you asked.

He shook his head, his smile leaving. “No, the door was locked. We couldn’t figure out a way to break it open. I think he got Flitwick to charm it, probably thinks we’ve been rummaging around in there.”

“The one time he’s a step ahead,” you said with a bitter chuckle.

Filch always seemed to be well aware when they were up to something, though it was rare that he was able to catch up in time. It had been dumb luck he found the map, though there was little way he’d get anything from it. As James had once explained to you, “It knows who’s safe and who isn’t. It lets you in because we like you, same with Lily and Marlene and Dorcas. If anyone else tried to crack it, they’d better be marauders at heart.”

“Isn’t Remus good with locking spells?” you asked.

“Yeah, you should try to open his trunk. The things sealed like a vault at Gringotts,” he said, his smile slowly peeking through again. “We’ll get it back, it just might take a little longer than we hoped.”

James stopped at the tapestry while you jogged down the corridor to check if anyone was coming, a routine you had quickly gotten into over the course of the week. He began to walk back and forth, glancing back at you as the door appeared.

“Maybe we’ll try bombarda next time,” he continued, pushing it open. “I doubt they accounted for that.”

You shook your head at him, holding the strap of your bag a little tighter as you entered the RoR. You stood still for a moment, building up your courage, pulling out the small package with a deep breath. You had wrapped it in scarlet paper, a tag with James’s name carefully placed in the corner. With a sheepish smile, you handed it to him before your anxiety got the best of you.

“Happy birthday,” you said, your heart racing as you watched him consider it.

He lifted his face, his eyes meeting yours. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

You knew he was being honest, though you weren’t sure you could take a back and forth with him. You tried to smile through your nerves, motioning to the present. “Nonsense. Now, open it.”

He sighed, ripping off the paper and tossing it on the floor beside him before opening the box. The joy in his expression grew as he took out the small transistor radio, experimentally pulling up the antenna.

“It’s a muggle one,” you explained, fidgeting as he flipped it over in his hands. “My cousin is married to a muggle, and he’s a pretty good curse breaker, so he’s also decent at overriding some advanced charms. He’s been trying to figure out a way to make a radio pick up muggle stations at Hogwarts. He tried to explain how he finally did it in his letter, but I only understood about half of it,” you laughed, biting your lip as you watched his eyes widen.

“This will pick up muggle stations?” he asked, his voice on the brink of exclamation.

You nodded, his excitement infectious.

He quickly turned it on, raising the volume as he flipped through the stations. After a bit, he stopped on one playing an advertisement for carpet cleaner, looking more happy than anyone in the world upon hearing a sales pitch.

“Turn it to something good,” you laughed, moving to stand beside him as you watched the needle move along the display.

He flipped through the stations again, stopping every once in a while when the static cleared. He settled on one playing an old song, the piano slow, the singer even slower, his smooth voice pouring from the little speaker just before the trumpet came to replace it. He was singing about love, maybe his own, but it felt like it was about yours.

James seemed to settle into something more tranquil, though not completely without his usual energy. He set the radio down, holding out his hand and wiggling his fingers as if he had any need to entice you.

You knew you shouldn’t, that being close to him was a surefire way to get you a flustered, nervous mess, though you didn’t care. You rolled your eyes as if that would make it better, letting your bag fall from your shoulders and onto the floor. He took your hand, pulling you closer to place his other on your back. You couldn't help but laugh, ignoring the way his shoulder felt beneath your hand, the way he swayed you back and forth, leading you where he wanted to go. He’d always been a good dancer, though you’d never danced with him like this, the way you’ve dreamt of a hundred times before. It was better than a dream, for in your dreams you hadn’t felt his warmth or seen the look on his face so vividly as he pushed you back out to spin you.

“I take it you like your present?” you asked, desperately needing something to say. At any moment you thought your heart might explode, filled with a deep, gnawing pain.

“You should keep it,” he said, not letting you go even as the song changed. “Your cousin gave it to you. I don’t think it’s right for me to have it.”

Your feet moved faster with the new beat, more swinging this time, upbeat and less breathy. James’s moves became sloppier, though you suspected it was on purpose.

“It’s your birthday present, I gave it to you to keep,” you said, “I have one at home, anyway.”

“Not one that works at school,” he argued.

“Just say thank you and keep it,” you said, watching as he paused to listen to the song.

“I like this one. Who is it?”

“Haven’t the foggiest,” you said, a noise of surprise leaving you as he pushed you out again, grabbing your other hand to pull you towards him, your back against his chest. He poked his head beside yours, laughing at your reaction. You swallowed, your fear that he could feel your racing heart becoming stronger and stronger the longer he held you. “Where’d you learn to dance?” you asked, hoping he wouldn’t notice.

“Call me a natural,” he teased, spinning you again so you could dance normally.

You tried to act nonchalant, letting go of his hand as you took a step back. You went over to the radio, switching it off, the RoR falling back into silence. When you turned to him, he was still chuckling, an acknowledgment that you could get each other to do things that you would normally fight against tooth and nail. You wondered how much would change if he knew it was because you loved him.

“We should get on with it,” you said, checking your watch, “we’ve wasted enough time already.”

“Ouch. Tell me how you really feel.”

You went to the other side of the room, hitting his arm as you passed him, the smell of his hair still fuzzy in your head.

*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*

To prevent it getting confiscated by McGonagall, Filch, or any other Hogwarts killjoy, you and James decided to keep the radio a secret between you and the others. When James presented Sirius with it in their dormitory after quidditch practice, he told you with quite the smile that, “you would’ve thought I was showing him the philosopher’s stone.” Thus, it became the talk of the day, or rather the week, all of you lamenting the fact that Dorcas wasn’t there to share in the glory of your gift.

However, not all was well. There was nothing you could do to avoid your villainous classmates, so you went on the best you could. Zephyr had been ostracized by the entire student body of Gryffindor due to his being a part of some scheme with the Slytherins to harm you. No one knew the details of Zephyr’s involvement, though you assumed it didn’t take much more than the scene in the common room to connect the dots, as well as his sudden increase in time he spent with the Slytherins instead of his own house.

The memory of Mulciber’s previous attacks and general odiousness towards muggle borns, or just those who sympathized, was fresh amongst your house-mates, making Zephyr’s friendship with Mulciber more than enough to brand him a traitor. Mulciber and his gang had accepted him fully into their ranks, roaming the corridors with him by their side as if he had always been there. Since Monday, the common room grew dead quiet whenever he walked through the portrait hole, slithering back to the staircase with his eyes cast down to his feet in a useless attempt to hide himself from view.

Just as James had said, you practiced dueling every single day for the remainder of the Easter holiday. You weren’t sure where he got the time, though he always had some spared for you. On Sunday afternoon you and James headed to the RoR, savoring the last of your free time before classes began again.

“Let’s see what you got,” James said, grinning wickedly from across the room.

You were already in your position, your feet moving on instinct as you made the first move. “Bombarda!” James leapt out of the way of the explosion, giving you another chance to attack before he’d counter. “Relashio.”

James’s wand whipped in front of him, unaffected by your spell. “Oscsusi!”

You blocked it, shaking your head at him. It was a charm to seal the opponents mouth, his way of telling you that you weren’t practicing your non verbal spells enough.

You wordlessly cast the binding charm, the ropes momentarily winding around him before he said the counter curse, dashing like a bolt of lightning to the other side of the room. You were getting rather good at the shield charm, blocking his next spell just in time.

You could see him moving again, so quick you could barely think. In your panic, you reverted back to your old ways of low level hexes and jinxes, “Locomotor mortis!”

Just as James’s legs buckled beneath him, he flicked his wand again. “Flipendo!”

You heard James cast Arresto Momentum as you flew backwards through the air, though he was too late. You landed hard on the floor, knocking the wind out of your lungs. Your ears buzzed, the sound of him shouting your name muffled by the high pitched ringing. Pain radiated from the back of your skull as you tried to sit up, the initial shock fading as you remembered this was meant to be a duel. You attempted to look around for your wand, though you were soon distracted by James running towards you. He threw himself onto the ground, his hand coming to cradle your head as the other arm wrapped around your back.

“I’m so sorry,” he said, the words pouring from him in a frenzy. “Godric, I didn’t mean to, I tried to stop you—”

“It’s okay,” you croaked, the cobwebs beginning to clear.

You rubbed your aching temple, James’s face no longer blurry in your vision. His brows were pinched, his mouth ajar as his eyes darted down over your figure, searching for injuries.

“What hurts?” he asked in the same manner. “I’ll take you to Poppy—”

“I just got turned around, s’all,” you began, moving to stand. “I’ll be fine in a second.”

He gently held your shoulder down, not allowing you to get up. Before you could protest, both his hands came to the side of your face, leaning in closer to peer into your eyes. You held your breath, frozen as you saw your reflection in his glasses.

“Look at me,” he said softly, maneuvering your face towards him. His eyes continued to stare into yours, looking for what, you did not know.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, barely able to bring yourself to speak. You hoped he didn’t feel the warmth of your cheeks, blazing as he touched you.

“Checking your pupils,” he answered with a frown. “They’re huge, you might have a concussion. I’m taking you to the Hospital Wing.”

“They’re just like that sometimes. They’ll be normal in a minute,” you said, pushing his hands away. You were weak, though he allowed you to remove them, still in a state of anxiety.

“I’ll wait five minutes,” he said firmly, “and if they’re not back to normal by then, we’re going.”

You buried your face in your hands, rubbing your eyes. “What will we say happened?”

“You could have a concussion and you’re worried that Poppy might catch onto us?”

You placed your hands onto the ground, swaying a bit as the pain continued to throb. “You’ve never been nervous enough.”

He paused, watching you so intently you were convinced your pupils would never return to normal, nor would your heart. You looked down to escape his gaze, though you could still feel it, heavy like lead.

“I’m so sorry, Y/N,” he said again, ignoring your earlier implication.

Your name on his lips was a welcomed sound, even if it meant you had to get thrown to the floor. Your eyes drifted back to his, though you knew it was a mistake, his expression so full of dread it made you question if you had blood pouring from your nose. You rubbed it just to make sure, though your sleeve came back clean.

“It’s really all right,” you began, “I just wasn’t quick enough. Call it good practice.”

“You’re mad,” he sighed, his hand coming up to touch your shoulder, stopping just short. “What hurts?”

“Just my head,” you answered, not knowing if you were dizzy from the fall or from his face, perfect right in front of you.

He touched your shoulder, warm even through your shirt. You felt his fingers flexing as they held you, making you feel as if you might faint at any second. After just a few moments it was too much, the realization that you were alone more frightening than it ought to have been. You had thought you were better than this, that you had things under control, though now you were worse than ever before.

“I’m feeling better all ready,” you said, hoping, praying he’d take his hand off of you.

James was unconvinced, his mouth still tight. “What’s thirteen times nine?”

You groaned, “I’ve always been bad at arithmetic.” When he gave you another serious look you rolled your eyes, taking a deep breath as you thought. “A hundred seventeen”

He seemed pleased, at least for the time being, taking his hand from your shoulder so you could stand. You relished in the distance, though what you really wanted was some fresh air, crisp in your lungs. The pain was lessening, the throbbing mostly gone. James held your arm as you steadied yourself, letting it go as you thanked him softly. He didn’t chastise you for saying it, another act of mercy.

“Let me check,” he said, forcing his face in front of yours.

Perhaps to repay him, you didn’t fight, letting him look into your eyes.

“You’ll be all right,” he said, stepping away. “No concussion for you.”

“Maybe next time,” you joked in a feeble attempt to lighten the dull mood that had settled around each of you.

He didn’t laugh, going over to pick up your wand which had rolled away.

“I’ll give you a day off,” he said, finally smiling a bit as he handed it to you, “but we’re back here on Wednesday after classes.”

You swallowed down something, whether it was pride or fear you did not know, allowing your gaze to be selfish. James’s sleeves were pushed up, a lovely, cherished sight. You found yourself settling on his hands, always busy, tapping on desks, fiddling with his wand, brushing through his hair. You drifted over to his lips, barely curled upwards, just for you. Did the fondness in his expression, the tender way his hands touched you mean what the cards seemed to point to, what Marlene had been telling you? Was Remus right?

“C’mon, let’s go back,” he said, opening the door for you. You followed, walking with him down the empty corridor towards the common room.

“Thank you again— for helping me get better at dueling,” you said, though the words seemed to drift away from you, swirling toward the high ceilings.

He turned to look at you with a smile, soft and small but no less touching. Something flashed across his eyes, a ray of blinding, beautiful light. Then, it was gone, leaving only a crushing affection, an impossibly excruciating ache.

“Anything for you.”

*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*

Peter gave you a supportive nod as you walked into History of Magic on Monday morning, knowing who’d already be at his desk. Wilkes, who you had only seen here and there about the castle over the holiday, turned around as you and Peter went to your seats, his eyes dark as they followed you. Professor Binns’s corpeal figure was floating two and fro in front of the chalkboard, muttering something to himself. You tightened your jaw as you forced your eyes to remain ahead, pulling out your things from your bag.

A few more students filtered in as class began, Binns scribbling something onto the board before he spun around, continuing his leisurely pace about the room with little attention paid to his class.

“The history of Dai Ryusaki’s amulet prior to his death is largely unknown, though there have been a host of theories explored by both the Ministry and independent researchers…”

You rushed out of class when the bell rang, ready to make a mad dash down the corridor before someone grabbed your arm, spinning you back around. Sirius had caught you, standing beside James, Remus, Lily, Marlene, and Dorcas. Your eyes widened, catching the expletive that had been caught in your throat. Unlike yourself, Peter noticed the group lingering just outside the door, looking just as confused as you were.

“What’re you all doing here?” he asked.

James’s gaze darted towards Wilkes, walking out of the classroom with a menacing glance in your direction. James narrowed his eyes, Wilkes turning back around with a smug smile.

“I told you I’d be all right,” you said, crossing your arms.

“We were going this way anyway,” Lily said, though she’d always been a bad liar.

You sighed, spinning on your heels to walk down the corridor towards the Great Hall. “C’mon, let's go to lunch.”

“Shouldn’t you be going that way?” James said, motioning down in the opposite direction.

You shook your head. “McGonagall told me this morning I could eat in the Great Hall again.”

“No, no, no, wait.” James grabbed your shoulder, forcing you to look at him, seemingly utterly outraged at the suggestion. “Are you mad? You can’t eat in the Great Hall with them walking around.”

Lily sighed, “James, if McGona—”

“I agree with him,” Remus interrupted, giving Lily an apologetic look. She didn’t seem to take it very well, her lips pulling to one side as she eyed him.

“I’m eating in the Great Hall, end of discussion,” you said with a final glance at the others. James, who was still extremely hesitant, was not at all swayed by your words. “Lily’s right, it’ll be fine,” you said to him.

He took his hand from your shoulder, slumping as he allowed you to continue towards the Great Hall.

“I go away for two weeks and everything goes to shit,” Dorcas huffed, breaking a period of short, tense silence.

You smiled, unsure if it was from joy or misery. “Tell me about it.”

Walking into the Great Hall felt odd. It was as if you hadn’t been there in years, the endless clinking of silverware a long forgotten chorus that used to fill your ears three times a day. Instinctively, you looked towards the Slytherin table, scanning it to see if any of the conspirators, as Marlene had so aptly named them, were there. Severus was sitting with his back to the door, though you’d recognize his hair anywhere, stringy where it hung at his neck. Wilkes was just going up to the table to sit across from him beside Mulciber, the rest of their gaggle already digging into their food. Regulus was one of them, smaller compared to the others, not unlike Snape in his countenance. You wondered when the last time he and his brother had spoken, given that they had not lived in the same house for two years now.

Fearing Mulciber would look up and catch you staring, your eyes shot away, continuing down the aisle towards a free spot at the Gryffindor table.

James watched on warily as you put food onto your plate, fidgeting when you went to take a bite. “I don’t like this,” he said suddenly.

Startled, you lowered your fork, staring at him across the table. He was glaring at your food with an intensity that seemed to suggest that he knew, for certain, it had been tampered with.

“I’m sure Dumbledore took care of it,” Lily whispered to him.

He took his own fork, leaning forward to take a mouthful of your food. Before you could react, he was sitting back down in his seat, chewing as his eyes darted this way and that, trying to determine whether or not he’d drop dead in the next few seconds. You all sat with bated breath, frozen until he swallowed.

“I feel fine,” he said, though not without another uneasy glance towards your plate.

You let out a sigh of relief, even though you were quite sure it was perfectly fine to begin with.

“Now, what if it had been poisoned?” Lily chided.

He shrugged, looking rather proud of his own bravery. “I would’ve been a hero, probably have gotten an award.”

“Dunce of the year,” Remus mumbled, snickering into his glass.

Sirius snorted, turning to James with a smirk. “If you drop like a fish within the next forty-eight hours, I’m not reviving you.”

“He’s not going to ‘drop like a fish,’” Lily said, entirely unamused.

“He might do that on his own,” Dorcas chuckled.

The group erupted in laughter, other than Lily, who was still in a twist over James’s continued recklessness.

“Thank you,” you said to James as the ruckus died down, “but if you do that again, I’ll poison you myself.”

*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*

With your scarf wrapped tightly around your neck, you once again sat squished between Lily and Marlene in the Gryffindor quidditch stands, waiting for the match to begin. This time around, James, Sirius, and Dorcas were in front of you, each hoping for Hufflepuff to kick Slytherin’s butt into oblivion. Corey Luxfire was back in play, meaning that they actually had a shot this time.

Each team came flying onto the pitch, the Hufflepuffs roaring as Corey whizzed beside their stands. Even the Gryffindors went wild when their seeker, Poppy Dunwood, did a loop around the goals, circling back towards the center.

However, you all went quiet as the Slytherin team passed by, Regulus swooping down in front of his house's stands, met with enthusiastic roars. His hair was black like his brothers, though cut far shorter, clean and crisp as every proper young wizard’s of the twenty-eight should be. Sirius turned away as he flew by you to the pitch, hovering above his team across from Poppy.

Below, Monsieur Button started the game, the players flying off when the quaffle was tossed into the air.

Instantly, Regulus went for the snitch, whipping around to chase it towards the grass, Poppy hot on his trail. The Ravenclaw’s all craned their heads up as Regulus flew over, circling their tower before he came back down again into the pitch. In the meantime, a Hufflepuff chaser was in possession of the quaffle, throwing it to Corey who took it under his arm, weaving through the Slytherins towards the goal.

Regulus shot by the Gryffindor stands, losing sight of the snitch as it disappeared past the crowd.

“Score for Hufflepuff, ten to nothing!” said Atticus Bundleby through the speakers.

The Hufflepuffs erupted in cheers, their banners and flags waving in the air. James, Sirius, and Dorcas stood, hollering as the Slytherin keeper threw the quaffle back into play. The others were not much better, particularly Marlene, who had begun cursing out specific members of the Slytherin team. Lily knocked her shoulder, scowling at her poor behavior.

“What?” Marlene said, seeing no problem with her choice of language.

Lily shook her head, wrapping her coat around her tighter as she turned back towards the game.

It was a while before Poppy and Regulus spotted the snitch again, nestled near the base of the Hufflepuff tower. Poppy flew underneath a scuffle, a bludger nearly throwing her from her broom. A beater swooped it, blocking it from hitting her in the nick of time, sending it hurling back towards a Slytherin chaser.

Regulus moved ahead of her, dashing towards the snitch as it went off, zigzagging up towards the students. He flew higher and higher in pursuit, soon becoming small in the face of the sky. This time, Sirius spun around to watch, Poppy flying past in an attempt to catch up.

“Slytherin scores! It’s one-hundred twenty to eighty, Hufflepuff!”

Poppy was just behind Regulus, inching closer and closer, the snitch near enough to catch. Suddenly, Regulus moved to the side, slowing down just enough to make Poppy jerk back, spinning out and nearly falling off her broom.

“Dunwood’s falling from her— she’s back up! Black is gaining on the snitch!”

The entirety of the student body had turned away from the pitch to watch the seekers, Regulus following the snitch with odd, random movements as it made it’s attempts to lose him. You glanced at Sirius, his eyes still locked on his brother as his hands curled into tight fists.

Dorcas was shouting, waving her hands in the air, “C’mon, shake ‘em you hunk of metal!”

“Slytherin scores again! One hundred twenty to ninety, Hufflepuff— Looks like Dunwood’s back in the game!”

“C’mon Poppy!” James called, nearly jumping up and down. He grasped Peter’s shoulders, shaking him silly in his exhilaration. You remembered a time not too long ago when he was praying for her failure, though he’d wish for just about anything if it meant Slytherin would lose.

Poppy made a valiant effort to catch up, nearly beside Regulus, though she was too late. He grabbed the snitch, holding it up in the air in his triumph. Sirius’s fists loosened, his fingers splaying out for a split second before they returned to their normal, relaxed state.

“Black captures the golden snitch! Slytherin wins two-forty to one-twenty!”

Dorcas threw her arms down with a groan, “Motherfucker!”

Regulus flew back down towards his team, who surrounded him with cheers of their own. You tried to pick out his expression, though he was too far away, only a vague blur of green robes and dark hair. You watched him for as long as you were able, soon pulled away by Lily as you all went to exit the stands.

“Two-forty, do you think you can make that up?” Peter asked as you made your way towards the castle over the lawn.

“Yeah, but we’ll have to hustle,” James said, turning to Dorcas and Sirius. “You hear that? I want you two all in these next few months. Their defense is still weak, but Regulus is good.”

“Are you doubting my skills?” Dorcas said, raising her brows.

“You did miss two weeks of drills,” Sirius teased.

Dorcas scoffed, “I don’t need drills.”

James went to argue, though Marlene’s dramatic, drawn out groan cut him off.

“This party’s gonna be such a drag,” she said, her shoulders slumping. “I hate it when Slytherin wins, it puts everyone in a bad mood.”

Dorcas threw an arm around her shoulders, smiling down at her. “Don’t say that. We might be able to get James pissed enough to dance.”

Everyone started snickering, though James only grumbled to himself, his cheeks growing a little more red. If anyone were to point it out, he’d say it was from the cold.

You leaned against the doorframe of the lavatory, watching Marlene coat her lashes in Madam Wink’s Miracle Mascara. Lily and Dorcas had already gone down to the common room, though Marlene had insisted someone stay with her as she did the long, laborious task of getting ready.

“How many coats was that?” you groaned, watching as she pristinely applied what seemed like the twentieth.

She put the wand back in its tube, smirking at you through the mirror. “Why? Do you think I need another?”

“No.”

She still had a look of mischief on her face as she pulled out her lip glass and applied it, far too proud of whatever she was about to say.

“You and James have been pretty cozy,” she began, raising her brows. “How has your training been?”

You made a noise of disgust, your lip curling in a vain attempt to hide your embarrassment. “James teaching me how to duel is totally, completely platonic and you know it.”

She turned to face you with a sentimental, sickly sweet expression, completely ignoring your assertion. “He’s been so worried about you like you’re already married. It makes me want to be sick,” her tone could not have been more different from her words, genuine in her happiness for you.

“What a lovely image, Marls,” you said, full of dry sarcasm.

“Do you know what he said to Sirius the other day?” she said, her eyes sparkling with the joy of someone who knew something of a scandalous nature. It made your palms itch. “James told him that you’re an excellent dancer.”

“Do you and Sirius talk about me behind my back?” you asked, less offended than you were horrified.

She shrugged, throwing her lip gloss back into her bag. “Not often.”

You shook your head, trying to forget the frightening new information that Marlene and Sirius were gossiping about you and James. You could only imagine what sorts of conniving plans they were coming up with.

“Anyway, that's a lie like no other,” you scoffed. “Are you sure he said ‘excellent’?”

She didn’t reply, brushing past you to retrieve her wand on her bed. “One galleon he asks you to dance tonight.”

“Only one? You can’t be that confident.”

She rolled her eyes, motioning for you to follow as she headed to the door. “Come on, let me make you one of my masterpieces.”

Well into the night you were nursing one of Marlene’s concoctions, red and vaguely shimmering, tasting of cranberry and something else unplaceable though undeniably good. The music was playing, some new single they’d been looping all week on the wizard radio stations. In front of you, Sirius, Dorcas, Remus, and James were playing Sparks, a game originating in the twisted mind of Remus Lupin. You and Peter took to watching, Lily and Marlene spinning around with a group of equally drunk students by the speaker.

The rules of Sparks were ever-changing and increasingly complicated, though it mainly consisted of flipping a coin, shooting sparks from your wand if it landed heads, with the slowest having to drink. However, if there were four tails in a row, the first person to shoot two sparks could choose someone to take a shot of firewhiskey. Remus usually came out just fine, Dorcas did not. At least they weren’t doing shot for shot.

“I’m going to kill you, Lupin,” Dorcas gritted, moving to pour herself a shot.

Remus smiled as she grimaced at the taste. “Wanna quit?”

“Never.” She slammed her glass down onto the table, steely as she stared at him.

Unprompted by the game, James downed whatever was left in his glass, looking around at you all expectantly. “All right, who’s dancing?”

“Is it that time already?” Sirius taunted.

James, likely too buzzed to take notice, waited for someone to answer his call. Peter, who you were pretty sure never danced a day in his life, did not move an inch, nor did Remus.

“I’m finishing this even if it kills me,” said Dorcas, her wand still in her hand, ready to take action.

“Don’t make me go out there alone!” James whined.

Sirius smirked again, devious and unnerving. “I’m sure Y/N wants to,” he drawled, turning to you.

Your head, fuzzy and light, swarmed with the memory of two Tuesdays ago, the sound of the muggle crooner in the RoR, the weight of his hand in yours. You could hear Sirius’s guitar, Carly Simon, the sight of James's crooked glasses, feeling the rush as he dipped you.

You chuckled nervously, shrinking into yourself. “I don’t know…”

“C’mon, you’re my favorite, remember?” James said, slouching forward.

You thought you might die. “Okay, just for one—”

James put his glass down onto the table, taking yours and doing the same before he led you towards the group that had clustered around the radio, charmed to play louder than designed. He was burning up, the heat rising up to your shoulder and well into your chest, hammering as you neared Lily and Marlene. You wanted to run, for there were too many people, too many possibilities to make a fool of yourself.

When Lily noticed you two she squealed, having breached that point in the night where almost everything made her delighted. She did some silly, twirling move as James spun you not unlike he had before, pushing you out only to pull you back in again. His curls, wild from the long night, caught the light in a way that made your knees feel like jelly. You noticed Marlene watching you with a cocky smile, a precursor to all the “I told you so’s” you’d have to hear whenever she got you alone.

“I don’t need spells, I don’t need charms, I just want you in my arms, you’re the greatest witch that I have ever seen…”

It was a cheesy song, perfect for dancing and not for listening. Through the noise, a few Gryffindors called to James the way only he received, a liquor fueled affinity for the way he effortlessly charmed the world. He was James Potter: Head Boy, quidditch captain, the life-breath of every shindig who seemed to be known and adored by everyone (other than the Slytherins). But you, you were his favorite, at least to dance with. You weren’t sure how much you could trust his words given the state he was in, though you took them to heart anyway, holding to them as if they were gospel. I’m his favorite.

Slowly, you relaxed, giving way to the unserious manner in which James danced, a thousand different styles melded together into something entirely his own. Lily took you away after a few songs, shouting the lyrics as she danced. You did the same, mumbling half of them and not caring how your voice sounded. It was drowned out by the music and chatter anyway, blocked by the muffliato charm at the door.

As you spun around with her, James took both your hands, tugging you back with a laugh. Marlene took your place with the same look as before, watching as James led you in a quasi-swing dance, messy steps that barely went with the song. Your perception of time was warped, the music melting into one great, endless ballad. You could’ve been there for ten minutes or ten hours, lost in its false infinity.

Just as James pulled you closer, ready to sway with the funky beat of a new song, he stiffened, stopping completely as he glared across the room. You glanced behind you, unconsciously squeezing his hand tighter as you saw Zephyr walk inside, weaving through the crowd. Students whispered to one another, looking at him sideways as he passed, heading towards the staircase.

James’s eyes shot back to yours, filled with concern as he leaned in closer to speak into your ear, “Want to go?”

All you did was nod.

You didn’t feel drunk enough for this. In fact, you were less than tipsy, your head far too clear to handle the way everyone seemed to turn away from Zephyr towards you and James leaving the huddle of dancers. Lily and Marlene each called out your name, though you only glanced back, hidden from their sight by the crowd.

As soon as James got you out of the common room he pulled the cloak from his pocket, throwing it over you both. Any other time you would’ve questioned why he was walking around with the cloak at a party, as well as the fact that it seemed as though everyone had illegally charmed their pockets but you. You were also surprised he was taking you out after curfew without the map, though you didn’t question it, lest he change his mind.

“Where are we going?” you whispered, trying to ignore the way your shoulders pressed together.

He didn’t try to hide his worry, his brows pinched as he looked at you in the low light. “Where do you want to go?”

You thought for a moment, though the need to get away from Gryffindor Tower was greater than you desire to pick the perfect spot. The piles of dust covered furniture in the Room of Requirement was entirely unappealing, as were any of the passageways you’d sometimes hide away in.

“The Astronomy Tower,” you answered finally.

James smiled softly, beginning to walk down the corridor towards the main castle. “Exquisite choice.”

You peeked out of the cloak upon arriving at the tower, saying the password given to all N.E.W.T. level Astronomy students so they could access the viewing deck for study, “Six hundred eighty-five thousand over pi.”

Once inside, James threw off the cloak, shoving it back into his pocket as he stared at you in confusion. “What’s the password mean?”

“It’s the equation for how long a parsec is in meters,” you said, chuckling as he continued to look as if you were speaking a different language.

“What’s a parsec?”

You kept your laughter down the best you could as you continued up the steps, the ceiling twinkling above you. “A little over three lightyears.”

You didn’t reach for your wand when you made it up, relishing the cold air on your bare skin. Instantly, being there made it seem as if the common room was halfway across the world, the noise gone, Zephyr just a distant memory. James followed as you went to the railing, your head craned up to look at the stars. It was nearly the new moon, leaving the sky naked of its usual, vibrant glow. Still, the milky way was painted pale pink and purple, fading out into dark blue, sprinkled with a million stars like specks of glittering paint.

You each stayed there unspeaking, suspended in the hazy hours of Sunday morning, a time in which all things either felt entirely lovely or entirely awful. This moment was the former.

James’s pinky brushed yours, though he pulled it away before you could savor it. Swallowing, he briefly glanced at the side of your face before looking away again.

“I’ve always been bad at constellations,” he said, soft as if to slowly break the silence, little by little. “I know Orion and Ursa Major, but that's about it.”

“At least you paid attention in first year Astronomy,” you said, your smile growing without you realizing. You pointed towards a star, radiant amongst the others. “See that one?”

James followed your line of sight, poking his head beside yours.

“That’s Regulus, the lion's heart. If you follow it up, it’ll make the Sickle, which is Leo’s head. Back there is Denebola, the tail. April is a good month to see Leo.”

When you looked back at him, you weren’t sure if you’d ever be able to look away again.

He smiled, more lovely than any constellation. “How do you remember them all?”

“I don’t know,” you began. “It’s like remembering spells. If you use them enough, after a while it becomes second nature. I’ve always liked the muggle stories, though. They help.”

His eyes brightened. “What’s the story for Leo?”

“Lots of questions,” you teased.

He bumped your shoulder, glancing back at the sky. “Is it a crime to be curious?”

You rolled your eyes, still studying his profile. “You know who Hercules is, right?”

“Big strong guy?”

“Yeah,” you chuckled. “Long story short, Hera didn’t like Hercules, so one day she made him go mad and murder his wife and children. Hercules was ridden with guilt, so to atone for his sins he went to serve his cousin, King Eurystheus, for twelve years. Once he did this, he’d be rewarded with immortality. At first King Eurystheus gave him ten labors to do, but it actually ended up being twelve in the end. Again, long story,” you paused, trying to regain your train of thought.

“Anyway, the first of the labors was to kill the Nemean Lion and bring back its fur. At first, Hercules tried to shoot it with arrows, but they bounced right off. So, he blocked off one entrance to its cave and snuck in the other, strangling it with his bare hands. But, when he tried to skin it, knives couldn’t cut through. Athena came and told him to use its claws, which worked. After that, he wore its skin throughout the other labors because it was stronger than armor. Then, y’know, he did all the other labors and became a hero.”

“Think I could strangle a lion with my bare hands?” James asked with a laugh.

“No,” you said, pretending to think it over. “Maybe a toad or something.”

He leaned his arms on the railing, hanging his head as if you’d ripped his heart out. “You’re so awful to me.”

“You’ll forgive me,” you said, used to his dramatics after all this time.

After a beat he stood back up, shivering as a gust of wind blew past the tower.

“Aren’t you cold?” he asked, placing his hand on top of yours, running his thumb over your knuckles. He took it away too soon for your liking, leaving you longing for the feeling of his palm.

“No, the cold feels good,” you said, your head growing light again as he turned to face you fully. You were filled with an inescapable desire to confess, spurred on by the way you felt halfway in a dream, as if anything you said now only existed here, safe from consequence. But, even if you did speak, what could you say? How could you possibly word it, a thing so simple yet so unbelievably complicated? I love you, I think I always have.

James spoke before you had a chance to take the plunge, though part of you wished he hadn’t, “You’re a good dancer, you know,” he paused, his smile like the sun, illuminating the night. “And you’re the only one that’ll humor me.”

You looked at him as if he had gone insane. “How drunk are you?”

“Practically sober.”

Something about his reply reminded you of his animagus form, as if he’d sprout antlers at any moment. You studied him with great suspicion, noting his ruddy cheeks, though it could’ve been from the chill.

“I mean it!” he said, growing more impassioned. “My last drink was an hour and a half ago, and I wasn’t that bad then. Didn’t want to get too pissed with Zephyr running around.”

“I thought you only danced when you were drunk,” you challenged.

“I danced with you two weeks ago when I was sober,” he paused, his features softening. “How about you?”

“Stone cold,” you said, perfectly honest. “Don’t tell Marlene, though. She made me a dozen drinks, but I kept pawning them off onto Remus.”

“I won't,” he chuckled, pausing after a moment to lick his lips, gone dry with the wind. “Anything for you, remember?”

Of course you remembered, you had thought about it every day since he said it. You wracked your brain for a suitable reply, though all you came up with was “I love you”.

“James, I,” you trailed off, heady with the sight of him, his words, the way he seemed to take you in.

For a moment you really did think it was a dream, because he was looking at you the way you had caught him in the courtyard, endeared to you like no other. Now, however, it wasn’t going away, remaining as he took a step closer, his hands coming to your cheeks. He touched you just as tenderly as he had in the RoR, his fingers brushing along your ears, his gaze bouncing from your eyes to your lips. You stared back up at him, perhaps with the same expression.

In a split second he closed the distance, the world blooming as he kissed you. He moved his hands down to your waist, yours finding their way across his shoulders, towards the nape of his neck where they threaded through his hair. He held you fervently, delicate as if you were a rare, treasured gift. Deep within you something stirred like a gavel striking, a single word ringing out in place of a bang: finally. It was perfect, better than all the times you had imagined it, greater than any book you’d ever read.

As soon as you parted, your head rushing and your heart swelling with absolute bliss, the realization felt more like being struck with an anvil. You just kissed James.

“Mother of Merlin,” you gasped, still staring into his eyes. They were blown out and beautiful, though it didn’t stop you from taking a step back. “You absolute tosser,” you mumbled to yourself, the world spinning all around you, dizzying in the worst way. You felt like you were going to be sick.

“I’m sorry,” he said quickly, his expression pained and rather awkward. “I’m sorry, I thought you wanted—”

You paced back and forth, adrenaline coursing through you. “No, I did. That's the worst part.”

“I have to say, I’m a little offended,” he said, looking at you as if suffering from a dull, ever-present injury, more annoying than it was excruciating.

“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, preoccupied with the stark juxtaposition between your immense happiness and equal regret.

Flabbergasted and obviously unsure how to proceed, he slowly neared you again, forcing you to meet his eyes. “What is it? Is it something I did?” he asked carefully.

Your lips still tingled, your stomach buzzing with the aftermath of your most folly, foolish wish come true. You loved him, and at the very least, he fancied you back.

“Lily,” was all you could say, her name coming out broken and shameful.

He furrowed his brows, his mouth ajar. “What about her?”

“Lily,” you repeated, attempting to convey the seriousness of your crimes, though it did not seem to have the intended effect. “You and I, we can’t, not when—” you cut yourself off, huffing as you brought the heels of your hands to your eyes.

“You think because I dated Lily we can’t be together?”

You nodded, your fingers blocking your sight of him. You couldn’t bear to look, not when he was everything you ever wanted.

He gently held your hands, saying your name as he brought them away.

“Of course we can,” he began, ducking down so you would have to look at him. “She won’t care, not a bit, not when,” he faltered, shaking his head as he reached up to touch your cheek. “She can’t be upset with a man in love.”

You soared. “You’re in love with me?”

“Of course I am,” he began, smiling wider. “I’ve told you before.”

Elation washed over you, the stars seeming to shine brighter over you both, dazzling in their celestial waltz. In an instant, you forgot about all the reasons why you shouldn’t, only able to recall why you should.

Breathless, you lifted the weight that had been upon you for far too long, “I love you too.”

“Thank Godric,” he chuckled, rubbing a thumb along your temple. “I was getting nervous for a minute.”

“You love me,” you whispered, mostly to yourself, as if trying to cast it in stone.

“Please let me kiss you again, or I think I might die,” his voice was ardent, bursting at the seams with a nearly theatrical plea for your attention.

You rolled your eyes. “So dramatic—”

He cut you off, pressing his lips to yours. He was careful with you, nearly chaste, cradling your jaw as your noses bumped. You fisted your hands in his jumper, no plans of letting go.

*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*⑅୨୧*

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