#which was cool to find out back when i was looking all this up the first time and again just now

[peechglaze]

I'll probably elaborate on it later in a more thought out post, but i think that Ellie's descent this episode was really cool.

Her brief panic and spiral over getting Dina and the baby killed, realising that they are so out of their depth right now and that Dina really might not make it out alive-- that if Dina dies this is just another person to add to her fucked up tally of deaths she blames herself for, lives lost because she dare to exist. Her practically begging Dina to come back with her, the panic in her eyes as she clings onto her.

This sets us up for a beautiful contrast when Ellie runs off solo to the hospital, having made the decision between her need to find Abby and going back to her injured girlfriend-- which she does because they're not alone anymore. Jesse is there, and Tommy is somewhere close by, and Ellie knows that Dina is safe and looked after. She doesn't have that piece of her holding her back, the one that's scared of Dina dying on her watch, for her cause.

And they're going to be so mad when she gets back, right? For going by herself. But she won't care like she would have before, because she just did what she did to Nora and now knows where Abby is. Three months of held back grief and rage has been rekindled, and Ellie has once again been consumed by it.

It's sad when you think about it, how the people who came all this way to bring her back have unknowingly set her loose.

There's no coming back from this.

[ce1estiall]

kiss my troubles away

summary you get ready for paige’s game, but she can’t resist your lips

warnings fluffffff

celestial notes enjoy this quick fic i did 😉 i can’t wait for summer my finals are next week. masterlist.

“just on touch is all it takes

won’t you come and kiss my troubles away?” kiss my troubles away - twice

it was a hot and sweet summer day in dallas. texas heat was rising throughout the afternoon , going from 80’s-90’s. you were in your apartment waking up late, almost 12pm. you awakened to the sound of bacon and sausages being fried in a pan that paige was cooking currently, waiting for her princess to wake up.

paige had a home game at 5:30. she invited you to watch her game, sitting courtside. you needed to be ready by 1:30 and out of the house by 2. the pressure was on.

you got up and out of bed, heading to the bathroom to wash your face and brush your teeth. the cold water satisfied your skin, as the heat was already entering your house. you opened your mini fridge and pat some toner in your skin. nothing you loved better than having to get ready for the day while also being cooled.

as your skin was drying, you headed to the kitchen, eyeing paige on her making you your late breakfast. you hugged her from behind, letting your arms rest on her neck as you inhaled the scent of the food. “good morning my love.” you whispered in her ear.

she smiled from the sound of your voice. “hi princess. thought you weren’t gonna get up at all.” she turned the sausages over. “making your breakfast, but now lunch.”

you let go of paige and headed to the cabinet, grabbing a plate for yourself. “are you gonna have any?”

she looked at the clock on the oven. “baby, i ate 2 hours ago. it’s all for you.” she grabbed your plate and served your meal. you sat down at the island, enjoying the food as if it were your last meal. one thing about paige is that she can cook. she always seasoned her dishes with more than just salt, and you knew she always made it with love, just for you. you finished the last bite of the bacon and you put the plate in the sink. “i’m gonna go get ready.” you said, licking your fingers.

“you’ve got…” she checked her apple watch. “an hour. hurry up, ‘kay?” she placed a kissed on your cheek as you were heading out the kitchen.

you went back to the bedroom, deciding on what to wear. this was the hardest part of your day. you would usually find inspiration from pinterest, but because of the weather, there wasn’t really much. you finally decided on a black crop top with green cargo pants. you didn’t care if you were gonna die from the heat because of you wearing black, you just cared if you looked good. a pile of clothes were spread around all over the bed because of you indecisiveness. you’ll just clean it when you got back, you didn’t have time right now.

outfit, check. now time for hair. you had curly hair, which was such a pain in the ass during the summer. you decided to wear it down because once again, you didn’t care how you felt. you cared about how you looked. paige also loved seeing you with your natural hair, as it made her fall in love with you even more. you were used to straightening it everyday because you were ashamed of it, but paige helped you embrace your natural beauty.

you soaked your hair with the spray bottle, then gently brushed out the ends, eventually making your way to your skull. you grabbed a wide comb, brushing out your hair to make sections for your curls. water was everywhere. counter, clothes, floor, sink, everywhere. the relationship you had between you and your hair type was such a love and hatred one. you applied leave in conditioner and curl cream to your hair, slowly raking it in. you eventually scrunched your hair to really define your curls. a microfiber cloth was nearby, and you scrunched your hair once again, using the cloth as it soaked up any excess water.

meanwhile, paige was in the bedroom getting changed for her tunnel outfit, which was just an oversized tee with black sweats and some jordans. paige then had to pack her bag for any necessities. you had no idea what she was doing, all you heard was a ruckus from behind. you turned around and saw her, making a mess. it made you chuckle slightly.

you let your hair air dry as it was time to start your makeup. you pinned it back, away from your face so it wouldn’t be in your faced. you grabbed your primer and pumped in on your face, eventually rubbing it in with your fingers so your makeup would have something to stick and stay on.

you loved doing your makeup, but what you hated the most was foundation. it would break you out terribly and crease all over. you swiped your concealer under your eyes, then gently patting it under your eyes with a sponge so it wouldn’t blend. you didn’t wanna apply too much makeup because you didn’t want it to practically melt off, but just enough so you wouldn’t look as scary.

you grabbed your rare beauty blush in the shade “hope”, applying a small dot on your cheek as it was very pigmented. you blended it with your brush, spreading it up to the apples of your cheeks as you smiled. you applied some setting powder, blurring the oil on your face and hopefully preventing sweat from later in the day.

you brushed in a light coat of waterproof mascara to make your eyes pop, then sprayed setting spray on your face, locking your makeup so it wouldn’t move or shift at all. the packaging said it was sweat proof, but all you could do was pray. you removed the clips from your hair, then fixing any flatness or bumps you could see. you scattered through your makeup bag, finding your favorite lipgloss. as you were swiping the pink sparkly gloss on your lips, paige came into the bathroom.

“wow.” she rested her arm on the door frame, looking up and down, checking you out. “i don’t think i’m gonna be able to focus at the game today. i’m gonna be too busy staring at you.” she smiled.

you smacked your lips together, turning around to look at her. “how do i look?”

she couldn’t resist your beauty. she practically ran closer to you, arms on your waist. “like a fuckin’ goddess.” you smiled, looking up at her, placing a kiss on her cheek. the lipstick printed on her face. she turned to look in the mirror, satisfied. she kissed your neck, slowly making her way up back to your face. every kiss was meaningful, leaving a small tingling feeling afterwards. her mouth could not keep off your lips, as she kept coming back for more.

after what seemed like an eternity kissing you, your lipstick was completely off from her affection shown. paige licked her lips, tasting your lip gloss. “sweet, like you.” you giggled at her response, then reapplied your lipgloss, you turned around as paige was about to kiss you again.

“nuh-uh. we’re gonna be late.” you grabbed her hand, reached for the keys and headed out to the garage to the game.

[rotapathetic]

HIMBO RAFE does blind unboxing with you

himbo introduction

RAFE stared intently at the box, lips pursed in concentration. “hm. . i think i’ll be fine with this one, but i really want the dude with the goggles, he’s sick. don’t want any of the ones without something in their hands, that’s boring.” he pointed at the images as he spoke, then showed it to the camera, even doing the little youtuber hand.

the kubo, mr bone, and hirono figures are the ones rafe has been into, while you can’t get enough of skullpanda right now.

it wasn’t a surprise when rafe came up to you, showing you videos of people doing unboxings and asked if you two could shop for some. well, more like pleaded. he was in such adoration walking through the store, picking up boxes, examining the series’, and calling out ‘woah,’ while tapping you to point at a box he thought looked cool.

he ended up grabbing more than you did and paid for both of you guys, smiling excitedly at the person at checkout. you, having seen the videos as well, decided it would be fun to record, and rafe was of course down to show off his finds.

you tapped your lip, looking at your box. “i want the one sitting on the grass, how cute is that. i’ll honestly be fine with any one of them. . not the one with the umbrella though,” you squinted at it in a way of telling it not to come out of the box.

“okay,” rafe signaled you two to start opening the boxes, then once the packages were out, you looked to rafe to start the countdown. “one, two, three. .” and you were both tearing them open, then pulled out the figures you got.

rafe gasped then immediately ‘aw’ed with a pout at not getting the one he wanted. you, on the other hand, got the one you wanted, and you smiled, showing rafe. his frown instantaneously flipped at your joy. “that’s the one you wanted, right? dude, that one is cute,” his smile was bigger than yours. “i don’t even care about mine, i’m just happy you got yours.”

you frowned, looking at his figure. “that one is cute too, no?” rafe looked at it, shrugging, “he’s alright, not mad at him.” he tossed it to the side, grabbing another box from a different series.

you did the same, then you both examined the boxes. rafe repeatedly tapped his finger excitedly on the box, “now i don’t wanna get my hopes up, but i really like this dude with the headphones. i wouldn’t even mind getting any of these. except this freak with the glasses,” he showed the camera with a cringe. he turned to you to see which options you had. “ooh, that pink one is pretty. . and that red. which do you want?” he leaned back on the couch, throwing an arm over the back and tilting his head to still see the box from behind you.

“yeah, that pink one is cute. i like them all too, yay.” rafe sat forward, putting his elbows on his knees and poising his hands to open the box. “okay, ready?” you nodded, and instead of counting down, you both just started opening the boxes.

“wait, close your eyes,” rafe told you, putting his hand over your eyes. you giggled out an ‘okay,’ and closed them, then rafe removed his hand. “open yours and i’ll let you know if you got it.” rafe couldn’t stop grinning at how cute you looked with your eyes closed, all excited. “okay,” you ripped open the package, pulling the figure out. rafe turned to the camera, giving the audience a shocked look.

“baby, look.” he told you, and you opened your eyes to see the pink one you two both liked. you turned it to rafe, eyes wide. “no way,” you laughed.

“you’re so lucky at this, and i’m so lucky i get to see you all smiley,” he poked at your cheek. you put your figure aside then clapped excitedly, “okay, your turn.”

rafe let out a little breath through his nose, then turned his head away as he pulled out his figure, showing you. “what is it? if it’s that freak with the glasses, i swear. .”

“you got it,” you squealed out, and rafe turned his head to see he got the guy with the headphones. “yes!” he proudly showed the camera, then put his hand next to yours, looking at your figures side by side. “they’re like us in figure form. can they sit together on the shelf?” he gave you the pleading eyes.

like you would ever say no to him, “of course they can.”

[aerieinthenest]

Whose Shirt?

Sylus x MC Drabble

(Will be crossposted to my Ao3 too)

~

~

“Sy, it’s too hot in here!”

The whiny voice of his beloved came echoing down the hallway adjacent to his office. Sylus had been cooped up in the dim room for a few hours, trying to get through as much paperwork as he could before he was dragged out of work mode to do something with the owner of the voice, undoubtedly sprawled out somewhere in the lounge room a few rooms away.

It was true though, the base of Onychinus was utterly sweltering in the heatwave that had set upon both Linkon City and the N109 Zone. The Deepspace Hunter had sought refuge in his den, thinking she’d be saved from the crappy cooling system in her cheap apartment building; which Sylus has offered to buy and replace numerous times, to his girlfriend’s chagrin, but the heat and the humidity that swarmed the air had infiltrated every crevice in the two cities.

The humidity in the base even had Sylus wondering if he’d even had a state of the art cooling system installed, or whether he’d dreamt the whole thing up.

With a snap of his fingers, he willed his Evol to place a decently sized desk fan to appear by the young woman lounging on his couch in the other room, already blowing cold air onto her damp skin. There was a barely audible sigh of relief before a chipper ‘thank you!’ reached his ears, pulling a soft chuckle from his lips as he returned to his work.

He’d barely typed another page‘s worth of the report he was writing when soft footsteps drew his attention to the door. There she was, clad in nothing but a sports bra and a sinfully small set of pyjama shorts to fend off the uncomfortable feeling of clothes sticking to skin; his beautiful girl, staring at him with the most adorable pout on her lips and a frown creasing her brow.

She padded right over to his desk, rounding the corner of the ornate wooden frame as he swivelled his chair around to face her, and plopped herself right into his lap. Arms winding around his shoulders, she buried her face into his neck, sighing in dejection. Sylus found himself chuckling as he steadied her on his lap, holding her gently to his chest.

“Now what could possibly be bothering you now, kitten?”

Another sigh was huffed onto his neck, the woman wriggling slightly as his fingers caressed patterns on the clammy skin on her back. “…too hot.”

“And yet here you are, in my lap, in the middle of a heatwave.” Sylus teased. “I must say, sweetie, the inner workings of your mind truly fascinate me sometimes.”

There that pouty face came again, filling his vision as she retreated from her hiding spot. “I missed you.”

“I’ve been sitting in here the whole time, you could’ve joined me at any point in the last three hours.” He reasoned, cocking his head to the side playfully. His hunter frowned deeper, shaking her head.

“No, I mean that we haven’t seen each other in a few weeks because I’ve been swarmed with missions from Jenna.“ She explained, shifting to straddle his legs. ”And then the one weekend I can spend with you for the first time in weeks is the same weekend we get a heatwave.”

Sylus sighed, tutting. “You know that can be easily fixed, right kitten?”

“If you tell me to quit my job and come work for Onychinus one more time, I swear I will walk right out of this base and not come back.”

He roared with laughter, jostling the woman on his lap who glared at him playfully. “Alright, I concede. This time.” She gave him a pointed look that dared him to try it again, eyebrow arched high. “You’ll find in time that joining Onychinus is filled with perks, sweetie. Namely, seeing me all the time.”

“If we’re seeing each other all the time, I fear Onychinus might crumble under a negligent boss-man.” Sylus pinched her thigh at the sassy tone, raising an eyebrow of his own.

“That’s precisely why we have Luke and Kieran. We’ll just send them to do the dirty work while we lounge in bed all night and day.”

His beloved gasped in mock horror, glancing at the door while her palms covered his mouth. “Don’t let them hear you say that. They’d be heartbroken you only see them as pawns.”

“As opposed to viewing them as…?”

“Sy, anyone in your inner circle possesses enough eyesight and common sense to see you value those boys like your own.”

“Kitten, I think you’re projecting onto me now.” That earned him a pinch to his cheek. “Besides, my inner circle entirely consists of Luke, Kieran and you.”

“Well, you better make sure I keep my lips sealed then, hm?” She brushed her nose against his, eyelashes brushing his skin delicately.

Sylus leaned in out of habit, ghosting his lips over hers as she pressed herself closer to his chest. “That won’t be difficult.” He sealed his mouth over hers, kissing her deeply while she sighed from the contact.

Her lips disconnected from his after a moment, a frown on both of their faces. Sylus was not nearly close to finished with ravishing her mouth. “Kitten?”

Her fingers slid down from his neck where they had tangled in his silver strands, tracing softly down his shoulders until she reached the first button on his shirt.

“It’s too hot. Need to take this shirt off.”

Sylus leaned back, watching his hunter work diligently at the buttons.

“Sweetie, you are aware that this is my shirt?”

The devilish gleam in her eyes, coupled with the innocent smile on her face sent a thrill down his spine.

“I know.”

~

~

Based on this interaction i had with sylus today:

[moongirlrhea]

an azriel and his best friend drabble - period comfort

this is a drabble in the azriel and his best friend universe, but it can be read as a standalone!!! in the timeline this happens at some point before the events of the series :)

series masterlist

word count: 1.8k

azriel x reader drabble

warnings: descriptions of period pain

a/n: sooo backstory: i had a really bad period last week and it brought me back to when i used to have really bad periods in high school. like passing out and all that so: this fic is the result of that! as always feedback is appreciated, let me know what you think!!!!

She groaned into her pillow as pain pierced through her stomach. She curled tighter into a ball as she fought the tears brimming in her eyes.

She couldn’t take this, she really couldn’t. She hadn’t even known her cycle was coming, with how unregular it was, but this morning she woke to red-stained sheets and a sharp pain shooting through her stomach. And by the time she managed to get the bed, and herself, cleaned up, she was utterly exhausted.

Azriel was at training, so he wasn’t there to help her, which he usually insisted on doing. After first coming to Velaris it was utterly strange for her to have anyone, especially a male help her with her cycle, considering how her entire life she’d been taught it was something to hide, to be …ashamed of. That it was a liability that should be hidden from a lady’s husband, and well she didn’t know why exactly she correlated that with Azriel, but- Anyway. It was standard for her to manage the pain on her own her entire life, although that usually consisted entirely of whining and whimpering in bed alone.

After getting close to Azriel everything changed, and he insisted on taking care of her, which at first was mainly just her trying not to burrow herself into the ground from embarrassment. After a while, however, after first experiencing Azriel’s gentle care and the love he conveyed in it, that quiet compassion and his lack of judgement, she started to let him help her. Although she had to admit, that the mortification she was thought to feel at showing her pain to a male of all people so undeniably, never really went away. Maybe it never would, but Azriel didn’t seem to mind reminding her how there was nothing wrong with being taken care of.

She squirmed again, a big part of her wishing he was here, unable to find a position that would ease the pain even the slightest bit. Sweat beaded at her brow and she whimpered as she lowered herself from her bed, and onto the floor.

It was cool against her skin, making her feel at least a bit less faint. Right? That’s what she thought would happen, but now her breathing shallowed and darkness swam in the edges of her vision.

Gods, the pain- Whimpering, she leaned her head back against the edge of the mattress and suddenly everything around her was blurring and-

Well, that definitely didn’t work in making her feel less faint.

-

Someone was shaking her shoulders.

“Sweetheart-” a familiar voice urged somewhere above her “Wake up, please, come on”

She groaned as she felt pain stab through her again. She was slowly coming about and slowly the realization that she knew that voice washed over her. Gods, what had happened?

“Az?”

“Thank the Mother,” the male crouched above her exhaled in relief “Can you open your eyes for me, love?” he asked in such a soft voice, that she couldn’t not try to.

She cracked her eyes open and looked at Azriel through squinted lids, vision still swimming. But he was already grabbing her forearms and helping her sit up. His touch was so, so gentle as he fussed over her that it had tears brimming in her eyes all over again. Suddenly her best friend’s eyes widened and snapped to hers.

“You’re bleeding. Did you hit your head? What happened, where are you hurt?” The questions were coming at her one after the other, though it was obvious by the pinch of his expression and the furrow of his brow that Azriel was trying extremely hard not to sound too scared. The unconcealable worry in his eyes gave him away.

Had she passed out from the pain? The answer was obvious in her mind and her stomach sank a bit as a pang of embarrassment consumed her. She tried to keep her eyes glued to Azriel as she stayed quiet for longer than needed. Oh, cauldron.

“It's my cycle, Az” she sighed out finally, eyes glancing around the room. Her vision was suddenly drowned in the golden, intense sunlight streaming in from the floor-to-ceiling windows. Was it midday already? How long had she been out?

“Why didn’t you call for me?” Azriel coaxed her head in his direction by placing a gentle hand on the side of her face. His thumb was stroking gently along her cheekbone as his shadows, who seemed to have noticed her earlier discomfort, shot out to close the curtains, keeping most of the overwhelming light from the room.

“You were at training, I didn’t want to…-” her voice trailed off.

“You should have called for me, you know one of my shadows is always somewhere close” his voice was almost scolding as he studied her with such deep concern in his golden-brown eyes, it almost took her breath away.

“I’m sorry”

“You know that’s not what this is about,” he told her in a soft voice “You always call for me when you’re in pain, alright?”

She narrowed her eyes and leaned her head against his shoulder in exhaustion before replying. “And that goes the same for you, right?”

A beat of silence ensued before Azriel chuckled, his hand coming to rest on the nape of her neck, fingers brushing through her hair. “It does”

“Alright, then”

Before any of them could say something more, a wave of pain so intense hit her, that she doubled over, gasping.

“Fuck, sweetheart, where do you have your pain tonics? How long ago have you taken one?”

“I haven’t- Ah-,” she gasped as she tried to get the words out “I haven’t taken any” she managed to rasp out, finally.

“What do you mean you haven’t taken any?” she could practically feel the way he froze in front of her, the shadows that had been twirling around her frame going in tow with their master.

“They don’t help anyway” she mumbled through a whimper.

“They don’t help? Love- You passed out on the floor from the pain, for Mother’s sake you can’t-” Azriel said seriously somewhere above her “You need to take care of yourself, we’ve talked about this” he added a bit sternly.

Was he mad at her? As she whimpered from the pain again, an ugly, albeit well known feeling swam through her body. But he wouldn’t think that of her, right? “I’m- I’m sorry” she tried wetly, a bit helplessly, maybe.

He exhaled shakily somewhere next to her “No- No don’t be sorry,” she sniffled at that “Hey, you’re alright. I’m right here. I didn’t mean to- I’m not mad at you, alright?” he said as he gathered her shaking form into his arms. She was a mess, breathing heavily, almost sobbing from the pain.

“It hurts, Az” she felt a stream of salt rivulet down the side of her face.

“I know, I know” he mumbled as he placed her gently on the bed “I just need to get you a tonic, okay sweetheart?”

“No, don’t leave-”

“I know, but I’ll just be a second,” his voice was strained and unsure about leaving her out of his sight in this state. Even for just a moment, but the sight alone of her state cemented the decision for him. She needed medicine. “I’ll be right back”

She groaned as she curled into a ball, breathing heavily through her sobs. There was a muffled conversation in the hallway somewhere but she couldn’t focus at all. Her door closed and opened and a weight appeared on the bed next to her.

Someone was whispering something to her, stroking her back and head gently. But the world around her wasn’t making sense at that moment and it was only after a while that she realized who it was, based solely on the smell of night-chilled mist and cedar that hit her. But the pain was all consuming and in her state of torment she couldn’t even make out his words. A vague, unspecified amount of time passed as she lay there and at some point Azriel must have been gone again, and she heard voices outside her room. And then he was back, coaxing her to turn on her back and sit up.

She squirmed in his arms, eyes closed and face pinched as he tried to adjust her. “Just one second, sweetheart, here,” he said softly as he coaxed a bitter liquid past her lips “There you go, you’ll be better soon”

“I can’t- I can’t do this” she whimpered.

“It’ll be over soon, angel, I promise” there was urgency in his voice, as though he was trying to convince her on something but she couldn’t focus and then-. She was turning over again, intuitively pressing herself into his side. Then there was something hot being pressed against her stomach, and a pair of arms circling around her. Azriel was whispering something to her, trying to comfort her but the words were incomprehensible in her state. Suddenly everything was blurring.

-

Azriel pressed a shaky his on his best friend’s forehead as he held her trembling form in his eyes. It was torture to have to see her like this and he was already berating himself for not keeping up when her cycle would come.

Poor girl.

Thankfully, he bumped into Mor right after going to get a tonic for her, and she happened to have an abundance of the stronger dose that she got from Madja sometime earlier. And so, he could already feel his girl’s form slumping against him, succumbing to sleep.

The plan for the next week was laying itself out in his mind as he held her. He had already sent his shadows to get her favorite foods and snacks from the Rainbow, and Mor promised to ask Madja for more tonics today. So that was covered. The House would supply them with hot water bottles, so he checked that from his list. He would have to check if she was in need of more linens.

There was one thing left to worry about, however. The convincing that it will take him to get her to actually stay in bed, because he was already sure she’d be trying to get up and to work the second she woke up. But it was alright for Azriel to ease his best friend’s mind and make sure she was well taken care of.

That’s what he was there for, and it was a job he’d cherish. Until the end of his days.

taglist: @greenmandm @thoughtfulcoffeeflower @dark-night-sky-99 @ly--canthrope @azrielssgirl @topaz125 @azrielsmate3 @i-am-infinite @stressed-reader @blonde-bansheee @k-homosapien @azysmate @brekkershadowsinger to join let me know under this post

[emeraldserenade]

Soul Ties ~ Joaquín Torres

synopsis: you went your whole life thinking it was odd that some people had a predetermined lover while some had to find their own

tw: fem!reader, soulmate au, med student!reader, none?, barely edited

fic, ficlet, drabble, request

I went back to my roots, aka I used to exclusively read and write soulmate AUs. Yell at me if you never want me to do one of these again, but I miss them. I miss that time of fanfic (I'm feeling nostalgic)

➽──────────────❥

You weren't sure about the whole soulmate thing, it was nice to know that someone out there will love you no matter what. But your parents weren't soulmates, they didn't even have marks, but they loved each other so much.

"It's not that I'm against them, it's super cool, but there are people out there everyday without one that find love. I'm just saying that it's odd that some people have someone predestined for them and some get the choice," you argued once in debate club. You have gone from social outcast to an oddly respected person to everyone who wasn't staff. You noticed it right away, while you got more friends, people agreed that it was odd, your superiors looked at you sideways.

Nothing ever came of it, they would give you odd looks, but at the end of the day they would never voice their opinions.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You met Sam first, he was visiting his sister. You watched AJ and Cass when your college schedule allowed, it wasn't the highest paying job but you loved them.

"Uncle Sam!" Both boys shouted in unison as you walked up to the door from the car. You had their backpacks thrown over your shoulders, you took them over night since you had them for the aquarium and a movie the day before.

"Who's this?" Sam Wilson gave you a look, one that you knew well, he was trying to figure out if you were his soulmate before the handshake.

"Y/n, I watch the boys whenever Sarah needs and my schedule allows," you offered your hand which he kindly took, the soul tie not snapping into place. You offered him a kinder smile, the one that comes with years of practice of not being someone's soulmate.

"It's nice to meet you, y/n," Sam offered you a kind smile in return, one just as practiced as yours.

"You're not soulmates, right?" Sarah gently asked, not wanting to come off as offended just in case. AJ and Cass had run off into the house at some point.

"No, we're not," you told her, handing her both of the backpacks.

"Good, he's a little too old for you," she joked and you laughed gently.

"I'll see you later?" You pulled your phone out of your pocket to check the time, if you left now, you would have time to get a coffee before your study group.

"You don't want to stay? Joaquín Torres, the new Falcon, is coming over and we're having a BBQ," Sarah offered and you gave her a kind smile.

"As much as I love your cooking, I have a group study of six people to get to. We will lose the big study room if we don't have all six," you explained, gently backing up.

"The public library?"

"No, the school one," you corrected before bidding them goodbye and jumping in your car.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

Joaquín first saw you at the library, AJ an Cass were insistent that they bring you and your whole group food. You weren't sure how they all got on campus without a voucher, but you had to guess Captain America had something to do with it.

"Ok, and The False Vertebrae is nine pieces that are unite to form two bones. Nice the two bones and the amount of pieces that make it up," your friend, Johnny, challenged you. The other people in the group listened and you saw Sarah, Sam, AJ, Cass, and a man you had never seen before also listening.

"There are four that make up the coccyx and five that form the sacrum," you announced and the group cheered that you got it right.

"Y'all look hungry," Sarah announced their presence. "We brought y'all food," she gestured to the bag you assumed was insulated.

"You, Miss Wilson, are a godsend," Jen praised as she reached for the plate offered to her.

"I want to give it to her," Cass whined, pulling at the plate him and AJ were both holding.

"No, I want to," AJ pulled the plate towards him.

"Boys," you called for their attention. "You both can give it to me," you compromised and watched as they walked side by side to hand you the plate. "Thank you," you gave them both over dramatic kisses to their foreheads to watch them laugh.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You finally met Joaquín a day later, Sarah invited you over to her house for dinner after your last final.

"Whether you pass or fail, you'll need to eat some good food," was her bargain, as if you needed to be convinced to eat her food.

You showed up with the unopened email that held your fate of if you passed or not. You knocked on the door and was ushered in by Sam, you sat at the table with everyone around you.

"I passed," you breathed out. "I passed with an 98!"

"Congrats!" The cheers around you made you smile and you pulled AJ and Cass into a hug.

✧°˖ . ݁˖︵‿❀‿︵˖ . ݁˖°✧

You were alone outside watching the boys play, Sam and Sarah were inside finishing dinner and Joaquín was off doing something else.

"Hey," Joaquín's voice made you jump a little.

"Hey, we haven't formally met," you mused. "I'm y/n," you held your hand out to him.

"Joaquín," he offered his name and took your hand. You felt the soul tie snap into place and froze. You still didn't understand why some people were destined to be with someone else and why some were given the chance to choose. But you decided that you were ok to be one that didn't have to choose, you decided that this was a mystery of the world that didn't need to be solved. Or at least not when you had Joaquín.

"Mom, Uncle Sam! Y/n and Joaquín are soulmates!" The boys went running inside as they yelled and you broke out of your stupor long enough for you to press a quick kiss to Joaquín's lips before Sarah and Sam came running out with the boys on their tails.

➽──────────────❥

Masterlist | Requests

[moody-alcoholic]

This Is Going To Hurt

Part 12 - Epilogue

Summary: Poly141 x reader, established relationship, medic reader, kidnapped reader, mini fic.

CW: PTSD, use of weapons, canon typical violence, death, alcohol, military inaccuracies.

Previous parts - masterlist AO3

6 months and 5 days. That's how long it took them to track Sayyid down. 189 days. 

You did take a month off with Johnny, it was good, a nice distraction to dote over him while he was recovering from his surgery. It was just enough work to keep you distracted and busy, but not enough that you didn’t have time to make it to regular psych appointments. And even when you did go back to work you could still keep them up, you’re not sure if it’s helping but you don’t mind, it’s nice to just talk. 

John keeps a close eye on you, only giving you as much as he thinks you can handle. You tell him you can handle more but he won’t have it. It was only a month after Johnny had officially been back on duty you got the call from Laswell. They’d tracked Sayyid to Iran and marines were ready to move in and take him. 

“We’re not letting the Americans get him again!” You shout, slamming your hands on the table. Everyone looks at raising eyebrows or letting out sighs. 

“We might not have a choice.” Simon said, looking over at John who's standing at the head of the table with his hands on his hips. 

“We need him to find Khalid and Jamal.” Laswell says through the phone. 

“Fuck that, you’ll just want to use him to trade again.” You snap.

“Calm down.” John says, you can hear the warning in his voice. You don’t care there is no other end for him then death. You don’t even care if you’re the one pulling the trigger or not. 

“What if we can find them?” Kyle asks, everyone looks at him. “We’ve done it before.” 

“With Farah’s help.” Johnny reminds him. There’s a sigh down the phone line. 

“I can give you 10 days. Then shepherd wants the marines to move in. Find the whereabouts of Jamal and Khaled before then and Sayyid is all yours.” Laswell says. You smile looking up at John, he doesn’t look as sure. You’ve all spent the last 6 months just trying to find one of them. 

“10 days.” John nods. “I have to make some calls.” 

…

It only took 7. 

You remember the wave of relief you felt when Johnny came crashing into your room with the folder in his hands. 

“We fuckin’ got ‘em.” You jumped off the bed throwing yourself into his arms. You both ran to the conference room, you almost couldn't believe it. But there it was in black and white; satellite images courtesy of the Russians. 

You don’t care how you got them-just that you had them. You had them which meant Sayyid was yours. Even John was smiling when he saw you. 

…

The night was cool. There's a gentle breeze. 

You’re crouched behind the wall with Kyle. As soon as Shepherd gave the go ahead you were all on a plane to Iran within 24 hours. Now you’re here, ready to raid the compound where Sayyid has spent the last few weeks hiding. 

Shepherd wanted to call in an airstrike and just blow the place. You needed closure though, it took alot of convincing but finally he relented and allowed 141 to go in with help from the Americans. 

“Bravo-2 in position, got eyes on the target.” Ghost says, you look over at the ridge where you think him and the other snipers are hiding. He’ll be the only one not coming in with you. You lean back down against the wall. Johnny shuffles up next to you. 

“You ready?” He asks. You nod, you’ve been waiting for this moment. You’re not one to seek revenge, you don’t exactly fantasise about killing people. Even ones you hate. But Sayyid has hurt so many, killed so many innocent people. If you're not going to do this for you, you'll do it for Naajiya, because she definitely didn’t deserve to die.  

“Copy, remember Sayyid is ours, as soon as we’re clear we’ll blow the place.” John says over the radio. You watch him as he stands up with the 2 random soldiers following him. 

“Let's go.” Gaz says next to you and you nod standing up with Soap following behind you. 

“Entrance looks clear.” Ghost says. You all walk down the dune hill to the compound's gates. Price is already there with one of the soldiers using bolt cutters to destroy the padlock around the gate. You follow them through the gates and up to the main door. Everyone stacks up and Price checks the handle, it's open and he looks back at everyone. 

“No friendlies through this door. Let's keep it tight.” He says in a low voice, it’s met with a string of copies and nods. Your throat suddenly feels dry, your hands sweaty under your gloves. The weapon feels heavy in your arms, you bring the sight up to your eyeline as the door is thrown open. 

Your heart is pounding in your chest as you make your way through the building following Price’s lead. You listen to the coms moving where you're needed firing off shots when people pop into your vision. None of them are Sayyid though, Ghost said he saw him so you assume he’s on the next floor. You’re already moving to the stairs before the ground floor is clear. 

Johnny follows behind you and you both make it up the steps. At first you don’t see anyone but you keep pushing hearing Price call that the ground floor is clear. Johnny tells him you’ve already moved up. The smell of blood and gunpowder fills your nose. It makes your heart race even faster as you let Johnny take the lead as you clear the rooms with him one by one. 

When you make it to the last room you kick the door in, as soon as you do shots ring out. You and Johnny dive to opposite sides of the door. Price and Gaz come up behind you a few seconds later helping you to your feet. This has to be Sayyid, the rest of the place has been cleared, and if there was someone on the roof Ghost would have got them long before now. 

“Sayyid!” You shout. You hear an angry voice shout in Arabic. Johnny peaks the door before swinging and firing off a shot. You swing too, it’s not a kill shot but he hit the weapon out his arms. Sayyid is rolling on the floor holding his shoulder. 

Johnny kicks his weapon out the way and you lower yours going over to him and unclipping his pistol, pulling it off his hip and unloading it.

“What here to take me back to the Americans?” He asks looking up at you. You throw his pistol to the side. Soap and Gaz keep their weapons trained on him, he sits up still holding his shoulder. He looks around at everyone else. “Bought the whole gang. Where’s the Ghost?” 

“None of your business.” Soap snaps, taking a step closer to him. You pull your pistol off your hip and click the safety off. He puts together what's happening, sighing and dropping his head for a second. 

“This doesn’t make you a good person. You know that right? Killing me won’t stop Al-Qatala, it won’t even help you sleep at night.” He spits. 

“What happened to the guy with the crush injury? The one you were praying for?” You ask. He frowns, the scoffs. 

“Is that how you do it? For everyone you kill you save another.” He chuckles, it makes you mad. You should just do it now, kill him and get it over with. “He died. It was a blessing to be honest especially after you sliced him up.” You don’t believe him. This time you can’t help yourself and you cry out smacking him over the head with the butt of your pistol.

He drops his hand and braces himself on the floor before sitting back up again and looking at you. You’re trying really hard not to let him know how much he’s getting to you. How much you just want him wiped off the face of the Earth.  

“Do no harm.” He says, his eyes digging into yours. You move your finger to the trigger. 

“You’re right. You won’t be doing any more harm.” You don’t let him get another word off firing the pistol point blank at his head. You look over at the blood splashed across the room and the pool coming from his head. His eyes are open, you should bend down and close them, it’ll be the last piece of respect he deserves. 

You can’t do it though, instead you put your pistol away and turn back. You look up at John before picking your weapon up and heading out the room. You don’t say anything, Just listen to the coms as everyone finishes clearing the area before you all leave. Not that you really needed to do that anyway, there’s about to be an airstrike on this place. 

It’ll be reduced to a crater in the sand and Sayyids body will be buried along with it. You hope it's something at least. Johnny’s hand lands on your shoulder when you make it to the top of the dune. 

“You good?” He asks. You nod looking back down at the now abandoned building. You hear Ghost say he’s clear too as you continue to walk so you’re out of the firing range. When you make it to the rendezvous, Ghost is already there waiting, you turn to look back at the building as Price calls for the airstrike. 

Soap’s hand comes around your back and Gaz steps up next to you. “Feel better?” He asks. 

“No.” You say. You feel like shit, you killed someone in cold blood, Christ even your therapist said it wouldn’t help you. Maybe it was Sayyid who got the last laugh after all. You hear the whooshing of a rocket and a second later the building explodes. You let out a sigh clutching your weapon, he’s gone he can never hurt anyone again apart from you and you’re okay with that. 

You look down at your feet digging your toe into the sand, before looking up at Price who’s turned to you. 

“Good job. Let's get back to base and I’ll buy you all a drink.” He says. 

“As long as it’s none of that American shite.” Johnny says cheerfully. It makes you smile and John smiles back. 

“It's fucking water mate.” Kyle seconds as you all turn to walk back to the trucks. You see Simon with his sniper thrown over his shoulder. He waits for you, letting everyone pass first before you follow at the back with him. 

“Don’t ask me how I feel.” You say. 

“I won’t.” You smile nudging him. His hand comes to pat your back. 

“I think we’re quick, we can sneak into the Germans tent and swipe a case of beer.” He says. It makes you chuckle. 

“Sounds like a plan.” 

…

Instead of stealing the beer you trade a couple of packets of cigarettes for them. They even threw in a few packets of some German crisps Johnny ended up snacking on straight away. Johnny and Kyle took some chairs from the rec room and John picked out a quiet spot on the roof of a building at the edge of the base, away from prying eyes that looked out into the seemingly endless desert. 

You were already on your second beer and letting yourself relax when Kyle's hand came to land on your thigh. 

“Shame there wasn’t any ice.” Johnny says as he finishes his second can and goes for a third. 

“Wait till you find out what we traded for them.” Simon says, chuckling. Johnny looks over at you but you hide your smile by taking another sip. You look up at the sky, there is no light pollution here but the lights from the base are blocking your view of the clear night sky. 

Kyle squeezes your thigh and you look over at him smiling. You didn’t need to kill Sayyid to feel whole, you just needed this. Surrounded by the people you love doing a job you love. Nothing else should matter. You reach down for his hand, lacing your fingers with his and squeezing his hand. 

“We should take a holiday.” You say looking over at the others. Johnny leans forward in his chair to see you better past Simon and Price. 

“Where would we go?” He gestures out over the wall to the desert. “This is already beautiful.”

“Maybe somewhere where we won’t get shot at.” you say. 

“Or blown up.” Kyle seconds. 

“Somewhere cold.” Simon says, taking a sip of his beer. 

“Iceland.” John says finally. Johnny sighs, leaning back in his chair.

“We could see the northern lights.” You say excitedly. 

“When this is over.” John says. “When this is over we can go wherever we want.” He turns to you and smiles, you smile back and nod at him. 

“What the hell!” You all turn to look down at Laswell with her hands on her hips. “I’ve been trying to call you for over an hour.”

“Laswell. C’mere, put your feet up, grab a can.” Johnny says throwing a can at her. She catches it but doesn’t open it. 

“Shepherd wants you in Urzikstan.” She says.

“Now?” John asks. 

“There’s already a flight waiting for you.” She says with a smile. 

“We’ve been drinking.” You say. 

“You can sleep it off on the plane.” She says. John chuckles and jumps off the roof to stand with Kate. 

“No rest for the wicked huh?” Johnny asks, picking up the rest of the crate. 

“Leave it for the Americans.” Simon says, jumping down next.

“Yeah, let them know what real beer tastes like.” Kyle says jumping down next and looking back up at you. You smile and jump down. Johnny lands next to you throwing his arm around your shoulder.

“I’ll let you sleep on me, lass and we’ll get a few hours kip before we land.” he says.

“Then what? Are you going to take me out to dinner, treat me like a real princess?” You joke. 

“Fuck, on my salary? Dream on.” He laughs, you laugh with him and walk as you walk back to dorms. You watch John get caught up by Laswell, in a few hours you’ll be in Urzikstan, you’ll be after a new target probably Jamal or Khaled if you’re lucky both. 

Your taste for revenge has gone, maybe you’ll always hate him and maybe you’ll never forgive him, but he’s gone and he doesn’t deserve anymore of your tears or your energy. He’s buried in the sand where he belongs, and anyway you have other people to worry about. You smile as you look up at Johnny throwing his arm around Simon’s back. 

Kyle’s arm is around your waist and he pulls you closer to him. You look up and smile at him.

“Thank you.” 

“No thanks necessary, love. Besides you’ll make it up to us.” he says, slipping away from you and winking. You laugh, he’s just as bad as Johnny. You finish the rest of your can and throw it in the bin. 

At least you won’t be back here for a long time…hopefully.

Banners by plum98

[cosmica-galaxy]

ok but your PV and witch child! Reader is so adorable and I need to put my two cents in. When little witch reader gets sick, I bet all hell breaks loose for multiple reasons. I’ve babysat before, So it always breaks my heart when they get sick and stuff, especially when it’s that first scare for young children who haven’t been sick before. they’re just so pure and miserable but you can’t do anything :( PV would be so torn apart by their sad faces and being in pain. He probably wouldn’t heal the sickness immediately because he wants his kid to build immunity so he lets it run its course but it’s still like willingly touching hot metal for him :( and anyone else who’s there

number 2: the weather and stuff gets wonky from the little witch magic. Sunny days switch to flash floods or heavy thunderstorms turn into heatwaves. Even all in one day if it’s a you-should-check-with-a-hospital level kind of sickness. We all have that one hospital visit sickness as a kid(or maybe you’re lucky idk)

number 3: PV and the others are on edge because this is a human illness. Cookies getting sick versus a little witch is an entirely new experience. So they can only really use their knowledge of when they have gotten sick to help. Everyone is jumpy because they don’t know what could happen. Especially PV who is watching his kid with emotions that can be summed up as: :’( my baby…

Oh DEFINITELY! I think that the child would slowly get sick after playing a lot in the snow drifts with Caramel Arrow Cookie while PV visits the Dark Cacao kingdom for a bit to settle some business between the two kingdoms. But once they get home, the toddler looses their appetite and struggles to stay awake. PV, naturally thinking that they are tired after such a long trip, puts them down for a nice nap. However, citizens start coming into the kingdom's castle to tell PV about the sudden weather changes. PV literally stands in the doorway of the castle and watches the weather flick over from sunny, to drought-like conditions, to sudden rainfall, and to a small hail storm. He immediately knows that he needs to check on his little one and he finds them whimpering and tossing about in their bed with a look of extreme discomfort. The next few days would be a rough trial for Pure Vanilla, as he tries his best to keep them comfortable enough to lighten up the weather outside, but it still affects the way that the environment balances itself. He keeps them cool, comforted, and filled with yummy jam soup while they endure the sickness. But only when the little one feels like they could eat, as he doesn't force them otherwise. He may loose precious sleep while tending to them, but he tries his best to get them through such a rough patch. Then one day, the sun rises and all the weather phenomenon is normal and completely typical. He checks on his little one and is relieved that their fever finally broke and that their own immune system was able to fight off whatever was ailing them. When they wake up, they happily embrace their father and beg for a good meal after nothing but jam soup for the last few days. To which their relieved tired father is more than happy to oblige. Human illnesses are hard for cookies to deal with, especially ones that can only be fought off by the human's own immune system. But with a few trial and error methods, they eventually find some good remedies to help the tiny human cope with sicknesses while they grow up into a stronger adult. Pure Vanilla would definitely be sleeping like a rock after such an intense scare and exhausting acts of caring for the human while they recovered from their intense fever. He also thinks about getting them inoculated...but he doubts that anything that cookies made for vaccines would work for humans. Maybe he needs to reach out and see if there is an expert or a cookie with the perfect background for developing preventives? Who knows. He's just glad that it's over and that the weather finally has it's own will back.

[mer-acle]

Snippet: Silent Wars

~Little Owl~

CW: Implied/referenced parent death; car accident

Just a few days after the accident, Zeus is taking his daughter home from the hospital... into a new life that none of them are really prepared for. (Metis spent some time at the Deans' house during the last five years because she didn't really trust Zeus with baby Athena in the beginning and especially after Ares was born, her and Hera also had stuff to talk about so she often stuck around while the kids played, so they did in fact all know her)

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

Zeus walked around the car to open the back door. Athena looked at him from Ares’ booster seat, grey eyes wide, the owl plushie hugged to her chest like a lifeline.

“There we are,” he said, unbuckling her. “Need help down?”

Athena didn’t reply. She very rarely did.

He set her down on the pavement, and she took a few steps away from the car as if it would bite her, then stood, like a lost suitcase. She flinched when he put a hand onto her back to guide her to the door.

“Come. Hera made cake for you, I think.”

Her steps were tentative, and more than once he considered just lifting her up and carrying her over, but he’d been told to be careful with sudden movement because her still healing concussion.

Hera stood by the kitchen door as they entered, Ares on her hip. He grinned widely at Athena, waving.

“Hi-“ Hera nudged him gently, and he lowered his voice to a whisper. “Hi, Thena.”

Athena didn’t look up, just stood there, her small body rigid.

“Athena’s a bit tired,” Hera said. “Can you go play for now, baby, till the cake is ready?”

Ares looked a bit unsure, but nodded and raced off when she set him down. Hera crouched before Athena, not reaching out, keeping her voice low.

“Hey Athena. It’s good to see you.”

Athena looked away, shifting uncomfortably on her feet. She was wearing the new clothes Hera had picked up at the store yesterday, a soft sweater with a cat on it (she had had to give up on finding an owl), warm leggins, a winter jacket. Only her boots were still her own.

Zeus nudged her slightly to encourage a greeting, but the girl just flinched and stayed silent.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to talk right now,” Hera said gently. “There’s no rush. Do you maybe want to come sit in the kitchen with me?”

Athena’s brows twitched, her fingers gripping the plushie more tightly.

“We can also go up to your room,” Hera offered. “We tried to make it comfortable but if you want anything to change, you just have to ask.”

Athena’s eyes flickered down the hallway, then to the door. Finally, she pointed toward the kitchen with her chin.

“Okay,” Hera said. “Can you take off your jacket and your shoes, honey?”

She wasn’t sure if it was good to ask that, but she hoped Athena would like to have a simple task to do, something casual and everyday within the chaos.

The girl shrugged off the jacket awkwardly, then her boots. Someone had apparently made her put on socks, which Hera suspected would not stay on for long, if there was one thing one learned quickly about Athena, it was that socks were her sworn enemy.

“Give em to me, kiddo,” Zeus said, taking the jacket and shoes from her.

Hera offered Athena a hand without expecting it to be taken, letting her follow to the kitchen. Athena halted in the doorway, unsure.

“You can sit over there if you want,” Hera said, gesturing toward a beanbag Ares insisted on having in the room so he could keep her company when she cooked. She went back to check for the cake which had cooled enough to apply frosting, chocolate aroma wafting through the room.

Looking back subtly, she saw Athena had sat down, not on the beanbag but beside it, her legs pulled close to her chest. Zeus looked at her from the door, face unreadable.

“Can you get a pillow or a blanket from the living room?” Hera asked without turning around. “The floor is cold.”

“Sure.” He seemed relieved to get out.

Hera finished the cake in silence, not wanting to hum in case Athena’s head still hurt. It was nothing special, just a simple chocolate cake she remembered the girl had liked on Ares’ third birthday.

Zeus returned with a blanket, slightly lifting Athena to put it under her. She tensed slightly but didn’t protest. He stroked her shoulder.

“There you go, that’s better, isn’t it?”

For a moment, Athena almost leaned into the touch, but then hugged her plushie instead. At least she didn’t flinch away.

Hera cut a small piece of cake and filled a glass with milk before crouching down beside Athena to place both within her reach.

“It’s okay if you don’t want any right now,” she said softly.

Athena looked at her warily, then at the cake, but didn’t move.

Ares rushed back in, a toy car -of course it had to be a car, Hera thought- still in hand. Athena flinched from the noise.

“Careful, bud,” Zeus called. “There’s cake on the floor.”

“I want cake!” Ares exclaimed indignantly.

“Sit down nicely and you can have some,” Hera ordered, cutting off a slice for him. Ares dropped on his beanbag beside Athena. Hera guessed that the endless fight of getting her son to sit at a table would have to be delayed until further notice.

Ares wolved down his slice and wanted seconds, Athena still sitting without touching hers.

“Mom and I made you a new room,” Ares explained brightly. “I picked the toys. It’s not next to me cos I always play in that room, but it’s next to that. Mom, can we go show her?”

Hera crouched down in front of Athena again.

“Do you want to go see it, Athena?”

The girl was still for a long moment, then shrugged almost imperceptibly. Hera decided this was enough of an agreement for now.

“Alright, let’s take a look then, okay?”

She picked up the cake and milk, guessing Athena might be willing to eat it later.

“Yayyyyy!” Ares jumped up and bolted out. “I’ll be first!”

Athena quietly got to her feet, clutching her plushie. She followed Hera without a world.

“We’ll make it more yours as we go,” Hera said as they climbed up the stairs. “If there’s anything you want in it, just tell us.”

She led Athena down the hall, hearing the unmistakable sound of bedsprings creaking.

“Ares Dean, stop jumping on the bed!”

The creaking stopped, followed by: “I wasn’t!”

Hera shook her head, not mad, she didn’t feel like she could ever be mad at him again, not when she was walking next to a little girl that had been lucky- such a cruel word in this moment- lucky to get out of the accident with a concussion and some bruises and shallow cuts.

“Over here, honey.”

Athena stopped at the threshhold, looking into the guestroom that had been quickly converted into something livable, two bookshelves that Demeter had brought over from Persephone’s old furniture, a small table with some pencils and sharpies, more colorful sheets and curtains, some toys that Ares was clearly very eager to try out from how he was eyeing them.

Hera was acutely aware that it wasn’t a home, just an attempt, but the thought of having the poor girl sleep in the guestroom as it had been, even just until the apartment was cleared, had been unbearable. Still, she released the breath that she’d been holding when Athena stepped inside and looked around, not curiously, but slightly engaged. Her eyes flickered to the chest of drawers, a small frown passing over her face, but she didn’t say anything.

She stepped up to the bed, not a kid’s bed, the double bed from the guestroom. She met Hera’s gaze maybe for the first time today, questioning.

“I know it’s very big,” Hera said apologetically. “We’ll get you a nicer one soon, okay?” She had stepped inside as well, putting the cake and milk on the nightstand.

Athena bit her lip, then carefully climbed up on the bed, clumsily because she wouldn’t let go of her plushie. Again, that questioning look.

“Do you want to lie down a little?” Hera guessed, uncertain.

Athena hesitated, then nodded very slowly.

Ares pulled a face.

“But it’s the middle of the day,” he complained. “And there are so many new toys we can play with, Thena.”

Athena hunched her shoulders.

“Ares, remember what I told you earlier?” Hera interjected gently. “Athena hurt her head the other day, she needs to sleep more than usual so she can get better. You have to be nice and gentle with her right now.”

Ares huffed, but didn’t argue.

“Why don’t you go downstairs to the play room and I’ll come play with you in a minute?” she offered, smiling despite herself as he lit up.

“Okay, I wanna build a castle and play with the dragons, Mom!”

“Yeah, we’ll do that, get the pieces out and I’ll join you.”

Her eyes followed him briefly as he left the room before settling back on Athena.

“Does your head hurt?”

Athena shrugged, sitting on top of the covers and looking at Hera with her big grey eyes.

“A little?” Hera asked.

The nod felt like a victory, a small engagement.

“That’s okay. I’ll talk to your Dad about when you can have medicine for it, okay? Too much medicine at once isn’t good for you so maybe you’ll have to wait a little. Does anything else hurt?”

Athena shifted slightly, then shook her head.

“Okay, that’s good. I think if we close the curtains, your head will like that better. I won’t make it completely dark, don’t worry.”

She got up to push the curtains over the windows, dimming the room to a gentle twilight, then squatting beside the bed.

“Look, here’s a nightlight,” she said, pointing to where it was plugged into the outlet. “It has different kinds of light, you can try them out with the button, or you can switch it off if you don’t want it.”

Athena looked at the soft blue and pink glow for a moment, then pulled in her legs to finally get rid of her socks.

Hera lifted up the blanket to let her crawl under it, throat tight when Athena curled up on the pillow without a word.

They were sitting on the porch, watching the kids play in the warm light of late autum. Metis was wearing a hand-knit scarf and beanie, hands wrapped around a mug of tea. Athena came over, easily climbing the single step. Metis leaned forward, putting the tea aside. “All good, baby?” Athena shrugged. “Tired,” she said, reaching out her hands to be lifted up. Metis smiled, scooping her daughter into her arms. “If you’re tired, you can take a nap in the guestroom, you know?” Hera said gently. Metis chuckled as Athena fervently shook her head and comfortably buried her head in her mother’s scarf. "A nap? You insult her, Hera. It is impossible to get my little owl into a bed before midnight.” She booped Athena’s nose and the girl giggled. “That’s why she’s so grumpy in the mornings all the time, aren’t you, Nea?” “Not grumpy,” Athena mumbled. “Just play-tired, not sleep-tired.” “That’s okay, baby. You can just stay here with us.” She turned to Hera while fondly running her fingers over Athena’s hair. “Has Ares since discovered the dark arts of sleeping?” Hera chuckled weakly. “I fear he has in fact not.”

Hera swallowed hard, tucking the blanket around the little girl’s shoulders.

“I’ll come check on you in a little bit, yeah? You can always come downstairs if you want, or do something in here, whatever you feel like. If you want to just sit and watch Ares and me play, that’s okay too. You don’t have to do anything today.”

Athena looked at her briefly, then wrapped her small arms more tightly around the small handmade owl, hunching her shoulders. Hera’s hand rested briefly on the blanket beside her, not touching. She knew that right now, being Athena’s father’s wife was not enough for the girl to trust. She honestly doubted that even being Athena’s father was enough to trust at the moment.

She rose slowly, rightening the blanket.

“Rest a little, okay?” she said softly. “You’re safe here.”

She hoped one day, Athena would believe that.

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

*quiet sobbing noises* Help I made my angsty AU sad and I was forced to write like an actual hurt-no-comfort scene? I don't like this why was there no hug??

Ares is the rayest of sunshines istg and GODS Hera the woman you are. Ig we will accept that Zeus was actually trying (*grumble*)

aghh I'm sad.

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

Tagged for updates:

@firinnie , @pikachiee , @yourfavtexan , @witless-winion1 , @wickeddisney55 , @flyingonions , @aikya-kat-44 , @therapybard , @electricpirateduck , @greekmythologyjunkie

(ask if you want to be included :3)

and fuck it, @grape-jucie-dog , I sent you the beginning, I am now making this snippet your problem >:3

[newkatzkafe2023]

WukongVerse Yandere Jax (Y/N) x Jester Monkey kings/D.O

A little something because as a the amazing digital circus fan🤩🥳 and Jax being my favorite character😈

(Jax Y/n) Best in the show, just in case you don't know, nowhere to good, that's what makes it fun though. Queen of keep calm and relax ain't no problems when your (y/n)

(Lmk Wukong) He was in the middle of chasing you. Well at least he was because you've been driving him and everyone he knew crazy and the final straw being that you had messed with Mk by putting spiders in his bed. That made Wukong snap and chase after you but now he trapped wearing a stupid jester costume, he was freaking out definitely but he focused his anger on you. Wukong yelled and threatened your blank indifferent face for hours until he realized something how the hell is he gonna get out of here. Wukong demanded the exit to this place but you Conveniently don't know the way out of your circus. Wukong was not in a state of panic as he flew around looking for anyway out, but it was like the exit disappeared the second he entered and he was starting to crash out. However you continue to keep cool as your husband was just having a cute little tantrum about his situation, and what pisses Wukong off more is the fact that your actually ok with all of this. He needs to get out of here before he loses his mind with your poor idea of affection.

(Jax Y/n) Best in...Best in the show, Best in....Best in the show, Best...in Best...in the show yeah you get it Wukong I'm going to bed now

(Jax Y/n) Now this may a bit traumatic, Cuz I'm just a bit dramatic simply to exist is to be Damned i think therefore I am🎶🎵🎶🎵

(HIB Wukong) He sat in the dark or as you called it the void. He doesn't know how long he was here for but he doesn't want to think about it either. You had pissed him off quite badly to the point where he actively chased you and now he's stuck and trapped in the void. He tried to find a way out needing to get out of here and back to his kids, he had a shouting match with you demanding to let him out the circus. It doesn't help that your telling him he, pigsy and the children are trapped here with you taking care of them and a argument would break out like this. However you would throw his own ideas and worries back at him for wanting to keep the children safe and sound from danger, especially from heaven themselves. You even brought all the monkeys from flower fruit mountain to live in safety and happiness and created a perfect little life for everyone. However this isn't what Wukong had in mine just to put everybody under lock & key, forever you couldn't do this he thought you love him which you in a way do. Just way more darker then intended.

(Jester Wukong) I can be a bit dramatic, But isn't this a bit traumatic??? To simply exist Is to be damned I think therefore I am🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵

(Jester Wukong) Cause I need to leave this wobbly world Will seriously drive me crazy Can't believe i'm stuck in the void Can somebody come and save me🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵

(Nezha Reborn) He was running, though false exit doors, and it's not going so well. Why, you ask, because you trapped him here. Wukong was tricked into a prank war against you, and you may have gone too far by putting makeup on his face while he was sleeping. So when he chased you into a portal, he found himself in a circus wearing a jester costume. He glared at you as you explained about his new home and new life with you, and he demanded to know the way out. However, it felt like a never-ending cycle of doors that took him to the same room you're both in, Wukong had it with you. Yelling and screaming and demanding to let him out, to let him go home. Until you hit him with a staggering fact that he has no home to go too, that everything was designed, that all he had left of FFM was you.....and that F*cked him up more then this kidnapping ever can be. Worry not, he'll get tired of running in circles eventually or at least till he breaks down😁

(Jax Y/n) Ohhhhhhhhh Wuwu you still sing that song again????

(Jester Wukong) I can't believe I'm stuck in this wobbly world it's driven me crazy🎵🎶

(JAX Y/n) it's ment to drive you mad🎶🎵

(Jester Wukong)can't you see this is now my faith, nobody will come and help me

(Jax Y/n) A Jester shouldn't be sad🎵🎶

(Jester Wukong) All alone no way home, I might start to like it maybe 🎵🎶

(Jax y/n) With me it's not so bad🎶🎵

(Jester Wukong) can't go back to who I was before, who

(Jax Y/n) Come on Wukong

(Jester Wukong) i ever find the exit door??🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶

(Jax Y/n) Absolutely Not😇

(Jax Y/N) What's got you filming, buddy? What's got you raging, dude? Did something p*** you off? You better learn to cope soon, This place eats dopes for Breakfast, you'll need some thicker skin cause if you're angry now, Imagine how you'll feel when🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵

(MK Reborn Wukong) Ever since you trapped him in your circus, you have done nothing but raise his blood pressure over 9000!!!! He thought the monk and pigsy were annoying, but then their was you. First of all, how dare you trap him in this super hell with you, and second, how dare you take him away from everything he knew. The worst part is that he was being mentally Tortured by you and your pranks and tricks, he's honestly not sure how long he's gonna last but he took deep breaths and did something he never do prey and meditate 🧘‍♂️. This shows how desperate he actually is because of how fast his sanity is deteriorating with him being trapped and you being the only one around. Wukong fought you and demanded for the exit and a way out, but you continued to joke and play with him. It didn't take long for him to snap on you trying to attack him. However, you would just smile mischievously but sweet on him. All you would do is easily steal kisses from him, and leave him to his tantrums. He can't take this anymore!!!!! Just let him out please let him out please 🙏

(Jax Y/n) Get your y/n toy, have a little laugh boy, so your not down to clown, well I won't let that get me down. I'm your y/n toy have a little laugh boy i would say sorry but it's not that kind of party🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵

(Jax Y/N) They're not Your friends you don't care about them, You don't need to pretend you'll see how it's all gonna end you'll see it happen again and again and again and again and again🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶

(Netflix Wukong) He was angry, he was Furious, he was Betrayed and he was trapped. It was one thing for Lin to betray him for the dragon king to get his staff back but you, you trapped him in this circus hell. How could you do this to him after everything you both been though, but you kelp repeating these words to him telling him that their not his friends, and that you care about him. The heavens, Lin, Dragon the whole world outside your digital circus, Wukong tried everything, trying to find the exit, Yelling and Insulting you, ignoring you, fighting you but nothing. He even started to beg, plead and cry to you for his freedom. All you did was repeat what you've been telling him for months, their not your friends and that you only you love and care about him. Days felt like weeks, weeks felt like months, months felt like years as Wukong felt his mental health Deteriorate, now rocking as you pet and cuddle him smirking gently.

(Netflix Wukong) There not my friends, I don't care about them, you don't need to pretend, I saw how it's all gonna end I'll see it happen again, and again, and again, and again, and again and again knock knock who-🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵

(Jester Wukong) 1 2 3 4 counting everyday, I've been stuck in here can someone help me get away, 5 6 7 8 Time is just a hoax in a colored world of characters and family jokes.

(BMW Wukong) Ok ok this is.....Well this Wukong is holding on to his sanity as you had trapped him in your digital hell. Wukong has allowed you to get away with alot of things but this he's not ok with this, he demands that you either show him the exit or you let him out yourself. However you just continued your normal antics slowly getting on his nerves with your antics. Wukong doesn't know how long he was stuck in here, it could be minutes, hours, days, weeks, months.......oh god what if you trapped him for years. No it can't be you just booby trapped him like he gotten into some pretty messy situations, but this gives him the sinking feeling like being trapped in that accursed mountain. Though this place is place is far worse and the only other person in here is you.....he just take it anymore he needs an exit door.

(Jax Y/n) Just your imagination, the exit is your fixation, door after door, you will find that it was just a digital hallucination. You'll try find a way out but your stuck here day after day, inside a.......Digital Hallucination🎵🎶

(Jax Y/n) As the years pass you by, it seems worthless to try, and escape from this digital dream. So you start introspecting, reforming, reflecting,(SPLAT!!!) and that's i hit ya with banana cream🎶🎵🎶🎵

(Destined one) You make everything much worse for him, it's bad enough he's stuck in here with you but you keep messing it up for him. Just how can you make his situation worse then before and why the hell would you freely do that, however you weirdly help him stay intact in a way. The Destined one would occasionally run around and look for the exit to escape, but to keep him from breaking completely but eventually the mild depression comesback to haunt him. As the Destined one is forever stuck in a virtual prison and his only company being you and his own thoughts.

(Destined one) As the years pass me by, it's worthless to try, and escape from this digital hole, so I began introspecting, reforming, reflecting Til I make for myself a new digital roll. I think of all the things that can happen to me and everybody else outside the city pull a prank make them fall with my back to the wall, and i can stick with the ones I can recall like glue..................and you'll be laughing too................and you'll be laughing too🎵🎶🎵🎶🎵🎶................and I'll be laughing, laughing, laughing, laughing, Laughing, LAUGHING, LAUGHING! LAUGHING!!!!!!!!!!!!

(Lotmk Wukong) what the heck is going on what am I wearing?! Something gone terribly wrong why is she starying. One second I was me and now im this strange plaything. Lights are fading lights evading get me out of here!!!!!!!!🎶🎵🎶🎵

(Lotmk Wukong) Wukong doesn't know how this happened one moment he's at the end of his journey, then next thing he knew he was brought to your world. You told him it was him and the monkeys brand new much safer area, where nobody can tear you both apart or hurt the monkeys of flower fruit mountain. Wukong at first was into it but he soon grew unnerved by the whole situation, and decided to ask when you both can leave and go home. You didn't answer though you never did as this was home everything you do is for his own good, Wukong begged to know when can he go home take them all home. You just smile though it's for your own good little clown, and the sooner he understands the message the better.

(Wukong) I just don't know where I am, and slowly losing who i am, and I would just like to go home now.............................................................I said I want to go home now!!!!!!!

Aftermath🙊🙈🙉☠️☠️☠️

(ALL together)I cannot eat, I cannot sleep, I have a mouth but i can't scream, loud enough to change the scenery, Inside of this machinery, a polygonal prison Made of one and zero digits, And I wonder if that's all I am, This form I have been given, Or my mind is in a coma and this nightmare will preserve it, Maybe this is all a test Maybe somehow I deserve it And these thoughts that fly inside my head, I'm filled with Exessential dread That's why I lay awaken in bed....AND STAY UP WISHING I WAS DEAD!!!!!!!

Well Surprise, surprise and mildly unfortunate, but you can definitely work with it. Whatever stability Wukong thought he had went out the window went be got trapped in the circus with you, and well the dude abstracted faster then you can say great sage. Even when they claimed so hard that they won't abstract and for you not to ever entertain the idea that he can't, but considering he's cracked before you didn't think this would happen. On a brighter notes he can change back apparently it only happening whenever he's extremely overwhelmed, but you always get away when he does. Your new husband has also found ways to cope with being trapped, with you forever, but don't worry about it. All he has left is you, and it's not like he can run anymore😈🥰

(Jester Wukong/D.O) But I'm fine, I won't lose my mind. i don't need your dumb distraction...I'm no a...b...str-actio-n🎵🎶🎶🎵🎶

FEEL FREE TO REBLOG 🎪

[iloveyoongi4321]

Drawn To You Ⅱ ᯓPt. Ⅰ ᯓpairing. artist! shouto todoroki x afab! reader ᯓwc. 1.1k

He books more sessions with you. Once or twice a week. You pose differently each time—sometimes clothed, sometimes not. He tries different mediums, gets experimental. Once he tried sketching with coffee and called it "warm-toned innovation." It was hideous. You framed it. He always gravitates back towards charcoal, like the traditional man he is. Reliable. Hot.

Sometimes you talk. Sometimes he mumbles to himself while sketching and you lie there silently, afraid to break the delicate moment. Once you sneezed while he was in the zone and scared him so badly he smeared the drawing with his thumb.

Another time, he’s the one who forgets he’s not on mute. You’re stretching between poses, arms up like a cat, when you hear him mutter:

“…that’s actually insane. Who even looks like that?”

“Like what?” You watch his face, unblinking for three seconds before he plays it cool and shrugs.

“Like… bendy.”

That earns him a giggle.

A few days ago, he mumbles something about feeling underprepared for finals. Says he’s been getting distracted during online sessions. Asks if you’d be open to meeting in person—just once, just to try it. Says he learns better that way. You say sure.

You spend the whole day cleaning your studio, just to keep busy. Rearranging chairs, wiping down the windows, dusting corners you forgot existed. You even light a candle. It feels stupid, so you blow it out. Then light it again.

You wonder how he’ll carry himself. If his voice will sound the same without the weird compression of a mic. You wonder if he’ll look at you the same way in real life—or if he’ll even be able to.

Ridiculous. You’re ridiculous. This is a purely educational meeting with a really handsome client and you will not be getting ahead of yourself.

Which would’ve been convincing—if you didn’t mumble it into an empty room.

⋆⋅☆⋅⋆

You don’t expect the knock to rattle your studio door like that. Three short taps. Precise. Hesitant. You open it. And there he is.

Icy-Hot, in the flesh. Tall. Broader than you pictured. He stands just slightly off-centre with a messenger bag slung across his chest like it’s a shield. Jacket half-zipped, There's a faint red line pressed into his cheek—you think he might’ve been leaning on it before he arrived. Boyish. His eyes flick up to meet yours, pale and arresting, then drop again like he’s afraid of being caught.

“Hi,” he says, then clears his throat. His voice is soft, frayed at the edges. “I hope I’m not late.”

“You’re five minutes early.”

“Oh.” He says, adjusting his grip on his bag. “I wasn’t sure how long it’d take to find the place.”

You step aside to let him in. The floor creaks under his weight, the sound swallowed by the vast of the studio. He brushes past with all the grace of someone trying very, very hard not to touch anything. His scent trails behind him, clean, but not neutral— soap, worn cotton, and something green. Mint, maybe.

“Lighting's nice,” he says, his eyes lingering on the candle you spent too long setting up. “You have a good eye. For ambience.”

You raise a brow. “That sounds like a compliment.”

“It is.” Then, almost reluctantly, “I don’t usually give them.”

You smirk. A tiny win in your book.

He looks at you from the corner of his eye. “You’ve got clothes on now.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

His ears go pink. “Nothing. I just meant you usually wear… less layers.”

You tilt your head. “Would you prefer if I didn’t?”

“No—I mean, yes? No— I just—” He shuts his mouth.

You lean forward, walking towards your platform, the makeshift stage where you usually pose, pointing him toward the stool across from it.

He settles into the corner, sketchbook braced against his knees, body folded in tight like he's trying to shrink into himself. You wonder if he always carries that sort of tension in his shoulders, or if it's just you.

"Are you going to pose me?"

That startles him. He looks up, almost wary, like you’ve said something dangerous.

"I'm not—" He hesitates. "You’re the one who agreed to this."

"I did," you say. "But you haven’t told me what you want."

He opens his mouth, then closes it again. His fingers tighten around the pencil.

You raise your eyebrows. Wait.

He gets up slowly, like he’s not sure he’s allowed to.

Then, with a steady hand, he reaches out—touches your wrist. Gently moves your arm higher, so your elbow curves like a line he’s already sketched in his mind.

“Here,” he murmurs.

His fingers brush your jaw next. Tilts your head. Angles it toward the sunlight coming from your window.

“There.”

You hold still. Say nothing. But your pulse answers for you.

When he sits back down, it’s quiet for a long time—just the scratch of pencil on paper, the rise and fall of your chest. The smell of charcoal clings to the corners of the room, warmth blooms where a lamp hovers over your shoulder, golden and steady.

You wonder what he’s thinking. He looks so peaceful, like he belongs in the quiet of your studio.

Then, hesitantly, “You can call me Shouto.”

You smile. “Shouto,” you echo, like you’re tasting it. “Why’d you wait so long to tell me?”

“I didn’t think you wanted to know,” he breathes. He really likes the way you say his name—thinks maybe he should’ve told you sooner.

“I caught it in your signature. On the back of that sketch made of coffee, the one you mailed.”

“You kept that?”

You point to the wall behind a particularly tall house-plant. He follows your finger, squints, and—yep. There it is. Framed. Crooked. Proud. You think he looks smug.

“Not my best work.”

You hum in agreement. “How’d you come about being Icy-Hot anyway?”

“Highschool nickname. Couldn’t use my real name, anyway. Didn’t want strangers to know me like that.”

“Too late now.” He smiles.

It doesn’t take him long to finish, setting his pencil down. When you lean in to sneak a look at the sketch, he doesn’t stop you. It’s impressive how insanely you it is, while still holding something distinctly him—like the way he sees you, with a little piece of himself in every line.

And as he walks over to the door—the two of you sharing goodbyes and promises of another meeting, you cant help but notice that the air feels different now, quieter somehow. The space—this big, open room—suddenly feels a little emptier, like it’s missing something. Or someone.

please dont expect this kinda speed with the next update LOL

[musingsofahufflepuff]

Stardust and Soul Marks

Theodore Nott x gn!hufflepuff reader; fluff & angst

summary: soulmates. you don’t believe in them for a second. especially once you find out theodore nott of all people is supposed to be yours.

a/n: after an eternity, here it is. hope it was worth the wait. dedicated to @obsessedwithceleste (go read her interpretation here) and all 1k of you who continue to support my work. it means the world ♡

It was almost midnight and you definitely should not have still been in the library. However, there was a History of Magic essay due in a few days and your roommates were, for some reason, not cool with you studying in the dorm at this hour. So here you were.

You had been the only one in the library for the past few hours until one Theodore Nott strolls in like he owns the place and you can’t help but roll your eyes. You’re ready to ignore him, reshuffling your quills and books which causes your parchment to roll off the table with terrible timing. With a groan, you bend over in your seat to pick it up. He apparently had a similar idea and for the briefest of moments, your fingertips touch. Much to your shock and horror, the letters T.N. were now inscribed on your wrist in rather sloppy handwriting. 

“Holy shit,” Theodore’s stunned whisper comes out before you properly get a chance to process what just happened. “You’re my soulmate?”

You catch a glimpse of your initials etched into his wrist. Your eyes travel up further to meet his shockingly blue ones and all you can think is you need to get out of there. Now.

In record time, you’ve packed your things and you’re slipping out of the library, leaving behind a stunned Theodore. The castle is empty as you hurry back to the Hufflepuff common room, wishing desperately that this could all just be some horrific nightmare.

As you leave the library in a hurry, Theo sets down his books and without thinking about it, runs after you.

You hear him shouting your name as he books it through the empty corridor. You ignore him. Just before he can reach you, you’re slipping through the common room door, letting it shut in his face. You don’t hear the thud of his forehead hitting the wood with a groan.

It hits you that it definitely wasn’t some horrific nightmare when you immediately notice Theodore leaning against a wall outside the common room the next morning. For a second you contemplate turning right back around and skipping classes for the day. You aren’t quite quick enough deciding, with Theodore’s predatory gaze falling on you where you stand in the doorway. He raises an eyebrow and damn it, you won’t be able to easily get past him. Nonetheless, you make an attempt. 

As you try to casually slide past him, he steps in front of you, effectively blocking your path. Prick.

“What do you want, Nott?” Your arms come up to cross over your chest as you meet his eye with a glare. He’s a bit taller than you, so you have to look up. For some reason, it’s incredibly frustrating.

“I want to talk about last night.” 

“There’s nothing to talk about,” you quickly respond, side stepping to get around him. He immediately blocks you again with an incredulous look.  

“What do you mean nothing to talk about? We touched fingertips and now your initials are carved into my skin. We’re soulmates.” He seems genuinely a little shocked you’re putting up a fight with him. 

“No, we’re not. Get out of my way.”

“Then explain this,” he holds up his wrist where, yes, your initials are written in black ink. He was being dramatic about it being carved. You scoff. 

“I don’t care. Now move.” You manage to slip past him this time and continue down the corridor. 

His eyebrows raise in surprise that quickly morphs into that signature smugness that nearly makes your eye twitch. “You’re actually going to class?” There’s an almost taunting tone to his voice and maybe your eye does twitch. Maybe.

“Must be surprising since your lot typically skips, but it is something that people do,” you give a nonchalant shrug.

Theo’s smirk drops off his face, “my lot?”

You bite your lip to hold off a smug grin, “yeah, that group of delinquents you skip class to smoke with all the time.”

“It’s not like we need to go to class anyway, we do just fine. It’s more productive to have a break.”

“More productive in what? Giving you lung cancer? Sure thing, Nott.” Without another word, you exit the corridor.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t take long for him to catch up to you. He gets entirely too close for your liking, you can practically feel him behind you. “You know, out of all the people that could possibly have been my soulmate, I never expected a Hufflepuff.” 

You don’t acknowledge the soulmates comment, instead asking, “What’s wrong with Hufflepuffs, Nott?” 

“Just surprised is all, as they produce some of the dullest people I’ve ever met. You’re rather feisty though,” you can practically hear the smirk in his voice and the heat radiating off his skin—

You come to an abrupt halt, causing Theodore to slam into your back from walking too close. He makes a startled noise as he stumbles before covering it up with a scoff. Before he can regain his footing, you start walking again. 

“What was the sudden stop for? Couldn’t handle the Slytherin heat?” He quickly regains his smirk and catches up, this time by your side, walking in time with your footsteps. 

“Thought snakes were supposed to be cold-blooded.” You take a sharp corner on your way to the Charms classroom, yet you’re unable to shake him off. “Badgers would be the warm ones.”

Theodore seems to think over your words for a moment before letting out an almost inaudible chuckle, “alright, fine. You got me on that one.”

You walk together in a surprisingly comfortable silence the rest of the way to the classroom. As you make your way across the castle, you sneak a glance or two at the taller boy, trying in vain to figure out what the hell is making him do this. Theodore Nott has always been one of the biggest pains in the ass you’ve ever met, yet in this moment, his company was at the very least tolerable. Which is more than you could say for all the years you’d known him. 

You enter the relatively empty classroom and find your usual spot. Theodore, not missing a beat, swoops into the chair beside yours. “I thought you had better things to do than class, Nott?”

“I can make exceptions. The guys will be fine without me for one morning.”

“You sure about that? You seem attached at the hip to—what’re their names? Riddle and Berkshire?”

Theo has a look of genuine surprise on his face that shifts into a subtle smile when you mention his friends’ names. “How did you know that?” 

“It’s not like it’s some secret,” you deadpan.

Cold blue eyes study your face for a moment, seemingly scrutinizing every detail they run across, trying to figure you out. You don’t give him much of an opportunity, turning your head to slam your textbook onto the desk. You see Theodore jump at the thud out the corner of your eye. 

Before either of you can say more, two of your housemates, Justin Finch-Fletchley and Hannah Abbott, are approaching. You can tell by the looks on their faces they’re intrigued to see you sitting with Theodore, and there’s no way they’re going to miss the opportunity to give you a bit of hell over it. 

Your last name rings out in the slowly filling classroom and you have to suppress a long suffering sigh.

“Fancy seeing you sitting with a Slytherin,” Justin’s voice hits your ears with a sneer. “Figured you had better sense than to sit with one of those types, aren’t you worried what people might think?”

“Especially Nott. Hanging out with the son of a…Death Eater, not exactly a good look,” Hannah’s eyes flick between you two. “Only person worse would be Riddle.” You don’t miss the way Theodore’s eyes narrow at her jab at his friend.

Seemingly unable to hold himself back from mocking you further, Justin adds, “didn’t realize you were taking charity cases. Though, with how you are I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You look up at them with a borderline bored expression, hoping they’ll give up and leave you alone.

“Oh…nothing,” Hannah gives a faux innocent smile. 

Before they can continue to berate either of you, you interject, “I don’t recall asking for input, anyway—” you tug Theo closer by his tie to make a point, “I’m fine where I am, so you can piss off with evil snake talk.”

With a huff, Hannah is grabbing Justin’s arm and pulling him away. 

You release the hand on the green tie, barely noticing how Theo quickly attempts to fix it back into his jumper, cheeks slightly flushed. “I can see why you prefer to skip,” you grumble under your breath once they’re gone, eyes returning to your textbook and missing Theodore’s stunned expression beside you.

“Why did you—” he clears his throat in an attempt to regain his aloof demeanor, “why’d you do that?”

“Didn’t like the way they were talking about you,” you shrug, nonchalant like you were speaking about something mundane as the weather. Theo feels his brain malfunction for a moment, just staring at you like he can’t figure you out. Soon more students are filing in, then the lecture is starting, response dying on his tongue.

The moment Flitwick dismisses you, you’re shoving the textbook back in your bag and making your way to the door. Theo starts to complain about your habit of disappearing until his eyes trail up to you waiting at the door for him. He’s stunned for the second time that day.

He scrambles to grab his things and follow you. You walk together through the corridors in silence until you’re pushing open the door to the North Exit Courtyard. Theo’s brain finally catches up with them and he pulls his smirk back onto his face, following too close behind you yet again. He continues a half step behind you the entire way to the Cares of Magical Creatures classroom.

“You’ve got quite a bit of sass for a Hufflepuff.”

“And you’re quite clingy for a Slytherin. Do you have to stand so close?” 

“Yes.” He somehow walks even closer, “still no clue why we’re coming over here when the lesson isn’t for another three hours.”

You drop your things onto one of the tables before picking up a small bag of treats. Theo continues to trail behind you like a lost puppy as you make your way to the pens behind the classroom. You stop at the second to last enclosure, where a group of kneazles are lounging in the sun. Carefully opening the gate, a couple of the cat-like beasts quickly pad over, clearly familiar with you. While one hand gently pets the head of one, you offer a treat to the other as Theo watches on in fascination from the other side of the fence.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you for an animal lover.” It draws your attention back over to the Italian boy, unimpressed look on your face, “yeah? Why's that?” He just shrugs, intense eyes staring you down.

“Thought Herbology was more of a Hufflepuff thing, I suppose.”

“Oh Merlin, no. Almost got attacked by a Venomous Tentacula last term, so no green thumb here,” you give a gentle scratch under the chin of the purring kneazle. “Funny enough it was that mate of yours, Berkshire, that yanked me out of the way before I could become plant food or something.”

Theo’s eyes narrow briefly as one of his eyebrows quirks up, “You’ve met Lorenzo? And he saved you from a plant?” He almost wants to laugh at the absurdity of it.

“Well, it was really the only time we’ve spoken. I guess you snakes aren’t all bad,” there’s a teasing grin on your face as your fingers absentmindedly run through soft fur. 

“You continue to surprise me, badger.” He’s staring you down again with those, slowly but surely less, intimidating blue eyes. “You didn’t seem friends with those other Hufflepuffs and here you are defending not one, but two Slytherins…why?”

You think it over for a moment before shrugging casually, “loyalty and respect are earned. Just because you ought to bond with certain people doesn’t mean you do. They think I’m quite odd, I’m pretty sure.”

“Then who has earned your loyalty, badger? Other than the school creatures,” he gestures to where the beasts are nuzzling against your robes and nearly purring. 

You just shrug cryptically again, frustrating Theo more than he anticipated. 

He groans as he leans his forearms on the gate. You were completely unlike any Hufflepuff he’d ever met, but it intrigued him. Maybe he’d spent the last few years being a dick to you, mostly on principle; his group of friends were very aware of how they were perceived and it was often wise to get ahead of the insults by spewing them at others first. But you’d stuck up for him. You had something nice to say about his friend without the expectation to get something out of it. At least as far as he knew you weren’t trying to hook up with any of them, which is why most people decided to play nice with them usually. So why were you letting him follow you around? Was it because of the soulmate connection? You seemed hellbent on denying even the idea of it. He feels like his head is spinning.

Then like a life raft in a maelstrom, he’s pulled out of his thoughts by your soft voice.

“C’mere,” you gesture for Theo to join you in the enclosure, expectant look on your face. He hesitates for a moment before obliging you. The gate creaks as he pushes it open and warily steps inside, eyeing the kneazles like they’re about to take his face off. You have to hold back a laugh at the normally stoic boy obviously scared of what might as well be oversized house cats.

Once he’s close enough you reach out for his hand. It takes a moment of him looking between you and the kneazles before he puts his palm in yours, his touch surprisingly gentle and warm. You carefully tug him closer, positioning his hand in front of the kneazle for it to take a sniff at him. 

Whiskers tickle his palm as he curiously looks over to you for an explanation, but all he gets is you watching the interaction intently, like you’re waiting for something. The kneazle apparently deems him suitable for pets as the furry head bumps his hand in a silent request for attention. You nod before standing up and straightening out your robes.

Theo gently starts petting the beast’s fluffy head as he watches you. “I think it likes me.”

“Looks like it.”

“You knew it would,” his tone is teasingly accusatory, like he thinks you’re testing him.

“Oh. I had no idea. Could’ve bitten your fingers right off for all I knew,” you once again shrug nonchalantly, opening the gate to the kneazle pen and softly closing it behind you. Theodore looks at you in alarm, eyes wide as they flick down to the creature nuzzling at his palm like an overgrown kitten. He quickly pulls away from the beast. “You were going to just let it bite me?!”

“You’re much more talkative than you look, anyone ever told you that?”

“You’re dodging my question…again.”

“And you’re dodging mine!” There’s a new air of playfulness in your voice, gone is the irritation you had directed at him most of the day and the entire time you’ve known each other.

He rolls his eyes, almost affectionately as he follows your lead out of the enclosure and back toward the classroom. He shouldn’t have been so surprised when he rams straight into you for a second time today. This time there’s a lack of teasing on your face, instead replaced by surprise that mirrors his own.

“Oh! Almost forgot,” you redirect to one of the first enclosures in the lineup, where there’s a pile of gold and gems and various other shiny objects spilling out of a den. A little blue niffler, smaller than the other ones lounging on and around the pile, scampers up to the fence when you approach. 

“Hello Trinket,” you dig in the pocket of your robes for a moment before producing a shiny galleon. Your voice is softer than Theo had ever heard from you as you speak to the little creature, your tone taking on what he can only describe as a parental adoration. You carefully hold out the coin for greedy little niffler hands to quickly snatch up and shove into the pocket on its tummy. It gives you a pleased noise and lets you gently scratch the top of its head.

“Don’t tell the others, but this one’s my favorite.”

Theo has a stupid, lovestruck grin on his face when he responds, “wouldn’t dream of it, vita mia.”

As you both walk back towards the castle, something compels Theodore to ask, “so…what do you like so much about Nifflers? And why the little runt in particular?” And by the way your entire being seems to perk up and you animatedly launch into a ramble about what’s obviously a passion for you, Theo’s heart thuds hard in his chest. Deep down he knows he’s already a goner for you.

You don’t share the next class, but he always seems to find his way back to you. Waiting by the door the moment you’re dismissed, and bewildered, you think he must have either left early from his class or booked it through the corridors (or both) to be there in time. But the little smile on his face is unwavering. 

On the way to the Great Hall, he offers a seat with his friends over at the Slytherin table and for a moment you’re so shocked (and secretly touched) that he wants you to properly meet his friends, you’re tempted to say yes. It’d probably beat sitting mostly alone at your house table as usual, but one glance over to the group already looking at you from across the dining hall and you’re making a stupid joke about not wanting to venture into the snake pit and speed walking in the other direction. Not intimidated at all.

Theo seems once again undeterred by you making an escape, appearing by your side the moment the meal time is over. He follows you, too close as you’ve come to expect, all the way to the library; his snide comments all but gone from your interactions. The space is instead filled by what sounds like genuine questions about yourself and stupid stories of situations only a group of teenage boys could get themselves into. You find yourself smiling more than you ever have with him, even more than much of your time with your housemates. 

The more he feels comfortable, the more you get to see a boy that loves summers by the sea and evenings cooking in the kitchen and who’s favorite instrument is the piano. 

You two settle into this routine of him tagging along, right by your side for the next few days. Talking with him is easy and he seems content to just listen to you endlessly ramble about anything. He always has questions relevant to what you’re talking about, sometimes even bringing up things you had mentioned in passing, days prior. 

He had even managed to drag you up to the Astronomy Tower late one night to properly meet his friends. Conversation with them even came easier than amongst your fellow Hufflepuffs. You could joke with them and they would have a witty, often snarky response in return.

Slowly you were finding yourself enjoying having a bit of company most hours of the day. Finding yourself leaving your common room in the mornings to fall in step with Theo, who was always there and waiting for you. 

Eventually he had ended up sneaking you into his dorm one evening to study while his dorm mates were out doing Merlin knows what. After a couple of hours brainstorming over a Potions project, Theo’s eyes flicked up to meet yours. 

“Are you still…vehemently against the whole…soulmate thing? It’s alright if you are and I don’t want to push, it’s just,” he sighs softly as he turns his quill over in his fingers, “it’s been on my mind a bit.”

The sudden topic change has you blinking in surprise, brain blanking as you struggle to even process your own thoughts.

“I just…don’t—I don’t know,” you stumble over your words a bit as you look away from him. You bite your lip for a moment, internally debating whether or not to lay bare this part of you, to let him past the carefully crafted walls that had been there so long you weren’t even sure what was left to guard anymore. But soft ocean eyes that always seem to linger too long, holding depths you could have never anticipated look back at you. And you feel safe.

So you continue, “my, uh parents were soulmates. In name only I suppose. As far as I know, they never loved each other, I don’t think they even liked each other.” You fiddle with the sleeves of your robes. “I didn’t want to let myself fall for you if you were just doing it because you thought we were destined to be together. I wanted you to like me, just…as me.”

“I never wanted a soulmate but here you are, ruining everything. With your stupid charming accent and the way you remember things about me and how you look at me with that stupid lovey look on your face—”

You’re cut off by gentle lips on yours. Expensive cologne and smoke fill your lungs in an intoxicating burn. It steals your breath, leaving only him. 

“I understand the feeling, the doubt about leaving it up to the universe to decide on something so…important.” Theo’s voice is quiet, gentle, when he pulls back from your lips. “My parents weren’t soulmates. It’s archaic, but purebloods have certain expectations and practices, one of them being arranged marriages. That’s what mine were. Mia mamma, she ended up falling in love with my father but him, not so much. Wanted me for an heir.” 

He looks over your face and for once it’s not a look of scrutiny, but something tender. Like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever laid eyes on. 

“She never got to be with her soulmate so she wanted me to get the chance to be with mine. But it’s hard, you know? I don’t know what I’m doing with the whole destined relationship thing, but I want to. I wish you could have met her. She had an eye for good character, I think.”

“Theo…” You’re almost at a loss for words, but you push through. “I—with the kneazles…I didn’t actually think they were going to hurt you. It might sound stupid but they’re particularly good at sensing trustworthiness and I…”

“And you wanted their second opinion?” he cracks a smile.

“Perhaps.”

“Well, I’m glad they found me trustworthy.”

His thumb grazes over his initials on your wrist as you hesitantly speak. “Me too. I know it might not be instantaneous, but…I’m willing to—no—I want to give this soulmate thing a shot. I’m just…scared.”

The light graze against the soul mark shifts to gentle, reassuring circles on your skin. “Maybe soulmates are just the pieces of the stars finding each other over and over again after they separate. What makes us up, just returning home. I want to get to know you, over and over again, no matter how much you push me away. No matter how long it’s been since the pieces of us have reunited.”

The pull to be close to him is nearly overwhelming, but this time, you don’t fight it. Instead you throw yourself forward, into his arms, into his trust, into the rest of your lives. And he catches you, holding you tight with the promise of never letting go.

[mixingandmelting]

Hope we can get silly fic about reader and ssb team in the newest chapter <33

A/N: the way i laughed from them in 547 😂❤️also as a note, the relationship between reader and sabbath is open interpretation

Oh shit. Oh shit, oh shit-

You quickly tug your hoodie down, pulling your phone out to pretend you’re on a phone call with someone. 

With the weather being so nice, you thought why not take a walk in the park? Touch grass, get vitamin D. And things were great until your sixth sense started tingling, alarms blaring in the back of your head. People say fangirls and guys are scary because they can recognize their idol within a long distance. You? You, however. Considering how long you’ve known and spent time with them, you can tell them apart and know where they are even if you were in a different country. Example A: your situation right now, as you instantly realize from where you’re standing it’s Wooin in black out sunglasses, Joker in a black mask. Then there’s the guy with mascot bunny head which you have so many things you could say about but none of them are of higher priority compared to your need to escape them. 

To make matters worse, there’s no way out. You’re already too close to simply turn around and walk the other direction. There’s nothing on you to really disguise yourself as someone else. 

Desperate begging to whatever beings in the heavens exist, you press your phone closer to your cheek while slowing down to walk beside some stranger who conveniently had appeared next to you. 

Please! Please, don’t recognize me! 

You hold your breath and wait. Wait some more. Then, having walked a good distance away, you do a fist pump. 

“Yes! I’m saf-” You freeze. 

From where you stand, you can hear a strange sound getting closer behind you by the second. Specifically, the sound of wheels skating across concrete. 

“Dammit!” Legs do not fail me! Boba tea that I drank before I got here, give me energy!

Embarrassment be damned, you didn’t care how comical the scene is of you running away from some guy in a mascot head and Adidas slippers chasing you on a scooter. It’s life or death right now i.e., losing more brain cells as you get annoyed by your self-proclaimed “besties” versus regaining the ones you lost last week as well as your sanity. 

Of course no matter how you maneuver through people, making surprise turns at last seconds, the Grim Reaper is able to keep up and manages to get closer to you. 

So, out of desperation despite knowing full well how pissed off it would make Hyuk, you do the inevitable.

“No way is that Team Sabbath’s Hyuk Kwon in a cute bunny costume!” You instantly flinch, reconsidering maybe you shouldn’t have done that when you turn around and check if your plan had worked. 

One would think the cute mascot would smother and make things look not that bad. You learn that’s not the case, watching fire coming from his eyes with promises of violence and revenge rolling off of him that causes the fangirls to stand an arm’s length away from him, all directed towards you. 

With new motivation, you go back and start running again this time faster than before. Looking left, looking right, you make sure the alley you want to enter has a lot of people since Wooin and Joker tends to loiter in the sussy, emptier ones. You finally find one with a bunch of open venues where people are eating and relaxing, leading you to enter it. 

“I’m so tired.” You huff out, resting your back against the cool, concrete wall. “Hopefully I lost them…”

“Lost who?” 

…Crap. 

Just as you get ready to make another mad dash, Joker wraps an arm around your waist and hauls you over his shoulder. 

“Put me down-!” A tatted hand covers your mouth and muffles your cries. 

“Do you really want to start this?” Wooin hisses. 

The two of you continue to lock eyes, waging a wordless battle. It’s you who ends up waving the white flag, defeatedly nodding your head. You scowl when his expression morphs from annoyance to glee. 

At least he doesn’t let you suffer from your awaited faith of facing the grim reaper’s wrath. It was at the expense of your humiliation of being carried as is through the streets and being the one to pay for dinner at the same BBQ place the five of you usually go (you swallow your tears as you ate from hearing your wallet scream). The audacity of the three of them had to drag you to get ice cream though- it broke the camel’s back and you caused another chase to start when you ditch them as soon as you got your ice cream which led them, most likely Wooin, to pay for it.

[sturnispider]

”it started like..”

requested by @taytaysttpd

i wasn’t expecting her to be that pretty.

i mean — obviously i knew someone was coming. matt kept talking about “his friend from back home” and how “she’s chill, you’ll like her.” which, honestly, could mean anything. matt’s version of “chill” includes people who’ve broken three phones and ghosted their group chats for two weeks straight.

but when the door opened and she walked in — hoodie on, hair kind of messy, smile like she already knew the punchline to whatever joke i hadn’t told yet — it threw me off. in a good way. like the kind of off where i had to remember to unfreeze my face.

madeline said “you must be chris.”

i said “yeah. uh—yeah, that’s me. chris.”

cool. real smooth.

she stuck out her hand like we were meeting at a job interview. i took it, and she had this little ring on her thumb that clicked against my fingers. the kind of tiny detail that just sticks in your brain for no reason.

she sat on the couch like she’d been here a hundred times already, right next to nick, who didn’t even look up from whatever video he was editing.

matt said “madeline, this is the crew. crew, this is madeline.”

i said “where’d matt find you?”

madeline said “we met at a show like… a year ago? i told him his shirt was ugly and we’ve been friends ever since.”

i laughed. for real. like, stupid loud. didn’t expect that answer at all.

i said “so you started with bullying. solid first impression.”

madeline said “i like to set the tone early.”

something about her made everything else in the room go a little quieter. or maybe it was just me. the way she talked, the way she moved — confident without trying too hard. i found myself watching her when she wasn’t looking. not in a creepy way. just… curious.

at one point, matt got up to grab something and she looked at me, leaned back on the couch, totally relaxed.

madeline said “you’re quieter than i thought you’d be.”

i said “you’ve known me for five minutes.”

madeline said “yeah. still thought you’d be louder.”

i smiled and shook my head. i liked her already. which — kind of sucked. because when you like someone that quick, it usually means they’re about to live in your head rent-free for a while.

later, after she left, matt asked me what i thought.

i said “she’s cool.”

but what i meant was: i’m in trouble.

it’d been a week since she came over, and yeah, i was still thinking about her. not like, in a creepy way. just… more than usual. more than i should, probably.

she came back over on a friday. matt invited her again for some casual game night thing. it wasn’t even a big deal — a few people, snacks, uno cards on the table. but the second i saw her walk in, hoodie sleeves pushed up, hair tied back, and smiling like she wasn’t about to ruin everyone in the game, my brain just went static.

nick clocked it immediately.

nick said “yo, chris. try not to fall in love before she sits down, alright?”

i said “shut up.”

matt smirked from the kitchen.

matt said “he’s been in love since the minute she called my shirt ugly.”

i flipped him off, casually, respectfully.

madeline came over to the couch and flopped down next to me without asking. just like that. like it was her spot. and maybe it was.

madeline said “ready to get destroyed?”

i said “you talk a lot for someone who hasn’t seen me play yet.”

she grinned, leaned closer.

madeline said “confidence looks good on you, chris.”

i swear to god, if i didn’t keep it together in that moment, i would’ve walked out of the house just to scream into the night air. instead i sat there, heart doing double time, trying to act normal.

and the worst part?

nick was watching.

nick said (way too loud) “someone get chris a fan. he’s overheating.”

i tossed a pillow at him.

matt said “don’t be mad just ‘cause your crush is funnier than you.”

i said “you’re both insufferable.”

but madeline just laughed, nudged my arm, didn’t look away.

madeline said “don’t worry. i think it’s cute.”

that was it. game over. she could’ve taken every uno card in my hand and i wouldn’t have cared.

i was done for.

BOOMSHAKALAKAA I HATE MY BOSS GURNEJSNSKA AOSBSK

-@sturnispider

[rosewaterandivy]

berlinterlude

summary: slice of life sequel to vena amoris; before sunrise inspired

pairing: s.h. x reader

w.c.: 1.9k

a/n: could you also call this so long london? idk, probably 🤷🏻‍♀️

Sometimes in that place between dreams and waking, Steve will remember London.

The slants of winter sun streaming in through the windowpanes of that place you’d stayed in Kensington. The British winter that had you opting for the warm comfort of pubs and museums rather than a stroll in Regent’s Park.

The touch of your hand dragging him clear across the National Gallery from Baroque to French Impressionism, your eyes twinkling as you turn back with a smile. The balm of sweat that blankets your heaving chest as he wrests another orgasm from you, kiss-bitten mouth falling open with a whimper the windows of the hotel fogging in a fever.

The stuttering rasp of his name as your lips eagerly seek purchase against his neck. A low groan as he reluctantly slips from you, a decorous sheen coating your inner thighs. How you, despite the heat generated between you, sought the comfort of his sweat-slicked chest as your eyes fluttered closed. And how he, however stupidly, thought there would be all the time in the world.

_

“Y’know,” you said, setting the fork delicately against the china. “I think the last time I was in London was for the play.”

Steve breathes a laugh, “Which one?”

You blink, as if suddenly remembering the litany of productions to your family name. “King Lear? Mom played Cordelia, I think I was … nine?” You cock your head, squinting slightly. “It was before all of…”

His hands finds yours easily across the table, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

A sigh escapes you, lips quickly fixing to a pleasant smile— appearances and all of that.

It’s something you don’t talk about much, understandably so, not wanting to draw attention to an inescapable ache. He’d first noticed it maybe a few weeks into knowing you, someone from across the yard, some Hasty Pudding wannabe, had said something to the effect of—

“Hey Barrymore, don’t go overboard this Spring Break.”

Steve’s head had whipped around so fast he audibly cracked his neck, scrambling to trail after you, watching as your fist gripped the back of the guy’s shirt and yanked him flat on his back. He was rendered speechless as you stalked to stand over him, face full of fury as you spat, “Hey trust-fund, how’s buying your way into talent going?”

The guy’s face turned beet red amidst the jeers and hollers from the quad, his mouth snapping shut with a grimace.

And then you’d just turned on your heel and left.

After that incident, Steve remembered where he’d heard your name before. A terrible accident, a prominent Hollywood dynasty shattered, a custody battle for the ages. His own mother likened it to the Kennedy curse or the death of Princess Diana.

“An unmitigated tragedy.”

He could see the sadness in your eyes, not often, but enough to know he’d find you at the rundown art house theater every August like clockwork. To sit beside you in the cool dark as her pictures played out on the screen. Knew enough to wait.

Shaking your head, you go back to the lamb ragu and pick up the discarded fork.

Your other hand remains clasped in his across the table.

“You look like her,” he says because it’s true.

“Unfortunately, I favor my father,” you dismiss, “You know that.”

He rubs his thumb across your knuckles. “Bullshit. What is it your grandad used to say?”

He waits, watching as you take a sip of wine, tracking the beads of liquid as they submerge back into the glass.

Your voice is small when you reply.

“When I look at you, it’s like she never left.”

Steve smiles, noting the turn of your lips and tension melting from your shoulders.

“Atta girl.” He takes his glass, swirling the scotch as he brings it to his mouth. “That old bastard was many things, but a liar he was not.”

_

When he wakes in the cool light of morning, Steve wants nothing better than to roll right back over and fall back asleep.

Despite his overall jock persona, Steve had never been a morning person, he fell asleep under the spray of a hot shower more often than not, and it took not one, but two secretaries to keep him on schedule.

It was worse when someone was warming his bed.

Namely, because they weren’t you and he’d now have to hustle them out of the door.

Luckily, he has no such issues this morning, his late night liaison preferring to make an early day of it, which was fine by him.

He rarely wakes with a memory of his dreams, but this morning there’s something eluding his grasp.

Do you ever wanna just disappear?

This as he’s tangled up in you.

A muddled light filters through the blue linen sheets you’re sprawled upon, his hands bracketing your face and mane of hair. His pelvic bone kisses your clit as he rolls his hips forward, slow and agonizing.

There’s a distinct thrill he gets watching as the tiny furrow between your brows makes an appearance. A clammy hand braces against his sternum, winding its way up to the nape of his neck eager for purchase. Fingers cradling his skull and drawing him down further and further still, until he’s forced to drop to his forearms.

Steve thinks you’re pretty all the time, but especially in moments like this— tendrils tangled, eyes screwed shut, lips open and panting hot breaths against his heaving chest, knowing that soon enough you’ll crumble. Bright eyes will find his in the fading dark, pupils blown and full of love lust. A deft tongue in your mouth when he kisses you blind, a shudder rolling through blooming at the base of your spine.

His hips stutter against yours, a low groan tinged with your name on his lips. A sweaty lock of hair falls to his face, your quick fingers push it back, nails scoring against his scalp as you fling the top sheet off and away.

He’s never wanted to disappear, at least not in the sense he thinks you mean.

Despite this, he’d gladly let you subsume him.

Consume.

Ruin.

_

It’s a balmy afternoon when he finds himself at Spreebogenpark walking along the waterway. He’s rolled the cuffs of his shirt, ditched the blazer, and is half-way to chucking these god awful Italian loafers when he hears it.

“Steve!”

Someone is erratically waving from the train station, nearly toppling over the rails.

He squints and pushes his sunglasses up his forehead.

The waving and shouting continues.

He turns his wrist and checks his watch.

15:13 on the sixteenth of June.

Shit.

Fuck!

By the time he’s made it to Berlin Hauptbahnhof, Steve’s nearly ate it on the pavement twice in his haste.

He’s kicking himself for forgetting, with all those postcards and voicemails how could he not? His secretaries had even reminded him before he left the office today. He’d only been looking forward to this for the past six months, fucking christ.

I can feel your eyes on me when I look away.

Steve flushes all over, pink crawling up his neck and chest enough to choke him blue.

“No, I didn’t—” you pause your perusal, looking very much a cat who caught the canary. “I like it, is what I mean.”

Your voice whispers against the hair at his navel, your mouth sponging kisses as you work your way down his stomach.

It’s a lazy morning, your last in London, and fittingly enough, it’s raining.

Waking slowly, you’d traced your fingers down his chest in a tantalizing fashion and he’d woken quickly thereafter. That clever little mouth working him over with lover’s spit, and fuck if he hadn’t been gone for you by then—

There’s a ring in a box in a tastefully appointed bureau in Berlin.

There’s an admission on the tip of his tongue.

“Holy fuck, I l—”

It crashes on him like a tidal wave, all force and pressure and whitewhite light. Surges against the confines of his body, blood thrumming in through veins and he can feel it in his skin.

You.

A blinding smile, one of his favorites, it has to be said, as you crawl your way up to straddle his chest. Biting your lip you lean down, locks of your hair tickling against his skin. He rises up to bring you down, hands cradling your face as he licks into your mouth chasing the taste of himself against your tongue and teeth.

In the come down, after he’d pulled you up to straddle his face and had your hips rolling against his mouth, he traces nonsensical patterns lightly on your skin.

Turned away, he watches the rise and fall of your breathing, the feathering of muscles along your back, follows the wings of your shoulder blades.

His voice is soft when he says, “Meet me in six months.”

There’s a muffled trill of Hmm? as you turn over, eyes glazed with sleep, and lashes fluttering.

“In the summer?”

“Yeah, six months to the day which would make it—“ He leans over to the bedside table and glances at his watch, thumb circling the familiar engraving on the back of its face. “June sixteenth.”

“You’d like that?”

He sets the watch down and turns back to you, his arm drawing you bodily across the bed, cradling your back to his chest.

“‘Course.”

His voice is a rumble against your temple, head falling into the curve of his neck. Twining your fingers together, you bring them to rest at the soft curve of your stomach.

“You know what I would like?”

“Hmm?”

Turning in his hold, he catches your smile— soft and intimate. Like one he isn’t supposed to see.

“What I would like, Steve, is to be kissed.”

Yeah, he thinks, that he can do.

-

There’s a gorgeous smile and a giddy squeal as he’s wrapped up in flailing arms.

“Ohmygod, I missed you soooo much!”

He lifts her as they hug, gives her a twirl.

“Missed you too, dingus.”

“Oh shit, oh no!” Robin’s fingers trace the mustache that’s grown there since she’d seen him last. “This has got to go, where’s the nearest pharmacy because clearly I have work to do.”

He takes her hand easily, dropping a kiss to her palm before hoisting her physics defying backpack onto his shoulder.

He can’t help when his eyes cut behind her, checking for someone else. Drops the shades back on his nose in an effort to blunt the pain when no one else arrives.

Robin squeezes his hand, pulling him away from the station, talking about a mile a minute and asking all sorts of questions.

“How are the pretzels, where do I get the best one? Ooh, or what about those coffee shops, eh?”

Followed by a pointy elbow to his ribs.

“Shit, sorry!”

“It’s fine,” Steve breathes, “Besides, I think you’ve gotten confused with Amsterdam.”

“Noooo, really?!”

“‘Fraid so, Rob.”

She chatters on as they skirt the waterway, a car meeting them at the park’s edge. And he loves her, truly, she’s his best fucking friend and he’s missed her.

Phone calls and postcards, voicemails and packages can only do so much.

She holds his hand all the while, even in the car, their arms stretched across the backseat, her blue eyes glued to the window as they pass the museums and monuments.

“Can we go see the wall?”

It takes him a moment to acquiesce, Steve’s mind having wandered elsewhere, wondering where you are. Wherver it is, he hopes you’re happy or content at the very least.

Berlin stretches out before them, a purple summer, and with it the possibility of forever.

It’s June, everything is in bloom and he misses you like a fucking limb.

[moony-mybeloved]

Under Pressure

The Marauders band au I suggest in my last post received a resounding yes so heres chpt 1! comment to be added to the taglist 🫶

The last thing Remus Lupin expected to be doing after a very successful show was driving home in his shitty car, down his shitty road, to get back to his shitty apartment, without his shitty boyfriend.

It wasn't supposed to end like this. Sirius wasn't supposed to say those things, he himself wasn't supposed to flip his lid, but here he is, and now he has to pull over before he kills someone because he can't see the road past the tears blurring his vision.

The break up was messy, backstage of a show, Remus was angry already, Sirius had been a dick before the show, going mental at James for taking a shot before the show, yelling at Peter for snapping a string on his guitar right on their 5 minute call, and scolding Remus for showing up with his cane in hand.

'You can't play with one hand! your gonna have to, I don't know, lean on something, just make it look cool ok!?'

Make it look cool? Remus had been livid, it was a bad hip day, he could barely walk on his own, but god forbid he run Sirius Blacks big show. He would have blamed it on the mans nerves, if he hadn't been acting like this ever since the band got a big break, and now The Marauders are a known name, then Sirius changed, been more like a boss than a boyfriend of 10 years, it pissed him off, to say the least, and he couldn't handle the diva he turned into.

Remus wants the days when they had fun, played in pubs where the only people who came to really see them was James' parents, but now Sirius black is a ridiculous control freak who is now more focused on the fame, the money, the opinions than the fun of it, the passion that he once had.

Its the radio that snaps him out of it, Sirius' energetic, belty voice along with his own smooth tones that bring a fresh wave of sobs wracking his aching body.

Under Pressure. The song that made the band and broke the bond, his shaky hand freezing when he hears Sirius sing 'Can't we give love, one more chance?'

No. Not with the way you've changed.

That's the only thing running through his mind as he manages to drive home, unlock his apartment and immediately find a bottle, when the phone rings, he lazily grabs it off the wall.

'Hello..?'

'Alright, mate?'

'..What do you want, James?'

'We just like..y'know, wanted, to know if you were, serious about the whole break up, with sirius..no pun intended-'

'Yes, I am, and..'

He hesitates. Does he really want to do this? Throw everything hes worked for since school, away? Because of a break up?

'I'm quitting the band,'

'What!?-'

He hangs up before James can try to convince him to stay, because it would work. Instead, he takes a long sip of his beer, rolls over on the sofa, and closes his eyes.

Remus doesn't leave his house for about a week, moving boxes scattered about the place, he had been supposed to move in with Sirius that week.

James and Peter had been ringing, from Sirius? Radio silence, which tells him all he needs to know. Hes angry. Hes upset. He regrets it. But hes free.

And so Remus deals with his feelings the only way he knows how, he writes music, he pours his anger into the lyrics, thinking about meeting sirius in school, who was desperate to fit in, despite his stupid posh parents, how Remus had fallen in love with him, but once a stuck up, arrogant prune, always a stuck up arrogant prune, I suppose.

When he finishes, he feels like he can take a deep breath.

He names the song 'Common People'.

After writing a song, crying, quitting his band, drinking, smoking, drinking and crying a little more, and sleeping for a week, only one thought is clear in Remus' mind.

I fucking hate Sirius Black.

Short first chapter ik!! but it was more of a setting the scene kinda thing, but the next ones will be longer promise! hope it lived up to expectations, and i plan to post a new chapter every Wednesday!