#yes. im already about to finish the series

[n0b0dyukn0w]

eee thank you <3

Last song: Pretty Boy by TV Girl! (my favourite right now)

Favourite colour(s): Purple, and my favourite combo is like a dark muted purple with a light muted green

Last book: The last one I finished was called Ghost by Jason Reynolds (about to read the whole series-) But the one I'm reading now is Radio Silence :)

Last movie: Wicked! I saw it in theatres for my birthday and I'll probably post a rant about how good it was soon

Last TV show: What We Do In The Shadows, it's so funny

Sweet/spicy/savoury: oooooo probably savoury with sweet being a close second! I have a high spice tolerance (thats the asian speaking) but I'm not a huge fan.

Relationship status: too afraid of commitment for that shit- I probably want a QPR though!

Last thing I googled: old english translator

Current obsession: the owl house/spider-verse (I keep meaning to watch it but I'm already obsessed )

Looking forward to: I'm in my areas version of mathletes (MathCounts I believe it's called) and I made the team so I get to skip a school day next week and do the competition with my friends :) {yes ik im a nerd, I'm also in battle of the books-}

um! you already tagged the people I was going to, and I don't want to clog up their notifications lol

all my moots (and anyone who sees this) you are officially tagged

Ten people I’d like to know tag game:

Thanks for the tag @beauty-is-terrror

Last song: Swan Upon Leda by Hozier

Favourite colour(s): dark greens, navy blue, browns

Last book: reread Bacchae and other plays by Euripides

Last movie: Brideshead revisited

Last TV show: I don’t watch them

Sweet/spicy/savoury: savoury

Relationship status: cursed

Last thing I googled: name of the newspaper in my country

Current obsession: ovid

Looking forward to: Going to Switzerland next week

Tagging: @shinaaposts @siriuslyobsessedwithfiction @perpulchra @the-etcetera-archive (no pressure and sorry if anyone has been tagged before)

[david-blackthorn]

I havnt read those books in the shadowhunter chronicles yet, what are your favorite things about them? (Im curious whether I should read them or not since I have such a big tbr already)

Oh maaan you're in for a ride

I have no idea which series in the Shadowhunter Universe you meant exactly but i'll start with my fav

Part I:

The Dark Artifices:

Do you ever feel like your soul needs a good mix of romantic pining, chaotic battles, and emotional devastation? The Dark Artifices is calling your name.

But seriously if you love stories that combine heart-pounding action, deep family bonds, and characters so real you’ll find yourself thinking about them long after you've finished the books? This is the series for you!

This series follows a family of Shadowhunters in sunny Los Angeles (yes, there are beaches AND demon fights) as they deal with forbidden love, ancient laws that make no sense, and plot twists that will leave you staring at the ceiling at 3 AM like: what just happened.

It’s got:

Two people who can’t be together because of reasons but have enough chemistry to destroy you.

A goofy warlock with more secrets than anyone is ready for.

A soft boy who paints and probably writes poetry but will absolutely murder you if you hurt his siblings and childhood friend.

A broody faerie loner who says “I work alone” but would probably die for his friends.

“I would die for my siblings, but also, they’re so annoying” energy.

Found-family dynamics that will have you texting your friends, “DO YOU SEE THIS?”

And, of course, the *painful but addictive* mix of love, loyalty, and chaos...

Enemies-to-lovers? No, wait—friends-to-lovers? Actually, it’s more like "reluctantly obsessed but too emotionally constipated to say it."

Three people staring dramatically at each other like ‘Is this polyamory or a REALLY complicated love triangle?

Characters who will make you scream, “JUST COMMUNICATE,” but you’ll love them anyway.

Enough family angst to fuel a therapy session for years.

A genius, autistic boy who solves mysteries but can’t solve the mystery of his own feelings

Main characters? Let’s just say there’s a parabatai bond that’s more complicated than your high school crush.

The plot? Fast-paced, full of betrayal, and packed with vicious fight scenes.

The family? Everything is fine...except when it’s not.

The romance? You’ll laugh, you’ll cry, you’ll probably scream and definitely ship things that should not be shipped. :)

Basically a murder mystery, faerie politics, and the most relatable struggle of all: Trying to keep your family alive and well while the world is falling apart.

Fair warning: you’ll never emotionally recover (and you’ll love every second).

part II:

The Mortal Instruments:

If you’re looking for a fast-paced urban fantasy series full of adventure, humor, and heart, you need to pick up The Mortal Instruments.

It’s got everything: shadowy secrets, epic battles, forbidden love, and enough twists and turns to keep you hooked from start to finish. Plus, the friendships and family bonds will hit you right in the feels.

If you like:

Hot people with emotional trauma

Family dynamics so messy even you would say "y’all need therapy"

Enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies-to-allies-to-love(maybe) but make it *gay*

Bonus gay dads with actual functional communication (because someone has to balance the chaos)

A love triangle that's not technically a triangle, but don't worry, it'll still destroy your soul

If you do then babe, let me introduce you to The Mortal Instruments:

It’s like Twilight, but everyone fights better is hotter and has sarcasm set to ✨maximum damage✨.

You'll question the characters' life choices, then realize your own aren’t much better.

There’s an overachieving golden boy with a superiority complex who definitely Googles his own name but is secretly baby.

A girl who just wants to vibe and maybe not be surrounded by apocalypses, but alas.

A cinnamon roll nerd who says, “I don’t want to be here,” but somehow ends up saving the day every time.

And a guy who walks in like: "I’m too goth for this mess," but then adopts everyone and pays for dinner.

The Mortal Instruments is what happens when an ex fanfic writer starts a writing carrier and makes a book series: chaotic, emotional, weirdly self-aware, and packed with heart. Read it. Your inner emo kid will thank you.

Bonus:

The plot? Like Supernatural on speed.

The dialogue? Whedon-esque but with more sass per square inch.

The drama? Every fanfic writer wishes they wrote this level of ✨chaotic bisexual disaster energy✨.

If this sounds appealing, congratulations! This series was literally written for you.

part III:

The Infernal Devices:

The Infernal Devices by Cassandra Clare is an absolute gem of a series, blending romance, adventure, and a touch of Victorian-era steampunk. If you love books with unforgettable characters, heart-wrenching love triangles (in the best way), and a beautifully atmospheric setting, this is the series for you.

It’s full of witty banter, emotional depth, and a story that stays with you long after you turn the last page. Trust me—there’s no ‘right’ team to root for, but you’ll love every moment of trying to decide.

The plot? Wild.

The romance? Devastating.

The side characters? Hot, chaotic, and probably more interesting than the main ones in most other books you’ve read.

Let’s not forget:

The Victorian Aesthetic™ (it’s giving Pinterest board).

A robot army that would make Skynet say, “You okay, bro?”

Poetry recitals that feel like life-or-death declarations.

And more tragic backstories than a Shakespearean play.

It's got:

a steampunk version of London where demons and shadowhunters roam the cobblestone streets, and your biggest problem isn’t the fog, but the ✨existential dread✨.

There’s a protagonist who just wanted to read books but accidentally became the center of everyone’s emotional drama (relatable queen).

A golden retriever boy who’s so perfect it physically hurts and is slowly dying.

And a sad boy™️ who looks like he stepped straight out of a My Chemical Romance album, only with a reading obsession.

A love triangle where instead of fighting, the two love interests are like, ‘Hey, what if we all just loved each other?’

Friendships so deep they’ll make you scream, “WHY CAN’T THE WORLD LET THEM BE HAPPY?”

A heroine who’s like, ‘Do I choose the guy who might secretly hate himself more than anyone else alive, or the literal angel in human form?’ (Spoiler: she chooses both. Iconic.)

Brooding boys who quote poetry in life-or-death situations (because of course they do).

*A love triangle where instead of fighting, the two love interests are like, ‘Hey, what if we all just loved each other?’

Start with Clockwork Angel and get ready to laugh, cry, and ugly sob over Will, Jem, and Tessa. But be warned: this series will RUIN you in the most beautiful way possible.

I won't write a summary of The Last Hours since i haven't finished it yet sorry babes, but hope you liked these *mwa*

[ilomilodailystuff]

Send help I'm watching that scene, I know that scene, you know that scene, the scene, of ep6, that scene, I am actually watching that scene, you know the scene—

[stinkrascal]

playing the sims is just like so fun sometimes. ive been playing in sulani for my personal save and its such a fun world to live in so ive decided gen 2 of straud needs to live in sulani

[cnidariandreams]

the urge to rewrite things based on newly acquired information vs Finishing A Goddamn Project For Once

[kquil]

DIVORCING ORION BLACK | CHAPTER SIX

06 : POTIONEER

CHPT. SUM. : Orion is furious at Sirius' sorting and demands he be resorted bringing you and Regulus with him to Hogwarts where you catch a glimpse of Remus and finally remember who Damcoles Belby is. 

LENGTH : 13.1k

TAGS : domestic fluff ; mother-son moment between Sirius and reader ; Regulus is a precious baby ; Orion is a dickhead and a big baby ; fluff ; angst ; hurt/comfort ; Marauders becoming friends ; Damocles and Ruth are couple goals ; reader gets revenge for our baby.

TRIGGER WARNINGS : child abuse ; claustraphobia 

← PREV. 05 : SIRIUS: FIRST DAY | SERIES M.LIST

3rd September 1971

The day before had gone relatively well. Sirius and the other first years in his classes were still fascinated by the castle and its magic so the tour and introductory first lessons in the afternoon went smoothly. The first years were adjusting well. 

Today will be Sirius’ first full day of lessons and, although it’s daunting, his demeanour is exuberant. Knowing that he will be sharing classes with his new group of friends made him all the more excited. The previous night was spent mostly chatting with his dorm mates, being in bed by 10 pm but not sleeping until past midnight. It meant that he was down for breakfast later than what was ideal and to avoid worrying about rushing back to get ready in his dorm, Sirius made sure to get dressed and brought his book bag to breakfast. This was entirely Remus’ idea, which the boys were incredibly thankful to him for suggesting. The soft-spoken brunette was beginning to build a reputation for having a head full of sensible ideas, making up for what the rest of the group lacked. 

Sirius was just about to finish his plateful and reach for a serving of freshly cut fruit when a shadow appeared over him. It was Argus Filch, the caretaker of Hogwarts.  

“Can I help you?” Sirius asks, managing to quell his alarm and brace himself for what may come. Surely he wasn’t in trouble for anything already — there couldn’t possibly be anything he could be guilty of. James, Peter, and Remus looked up in curiosity, also having the same unanswered questions on their faces, silently seeking some sort of response to calm their startled nerves. 

“You’re needed at the Headmaster’s office,” Filch announces, his eyes gleaming with amusement at the sight of the group’s unanimous surprise and dread, although his expression remains largely dull and unimpressed. 

“…just me?” Sirius dreaded to ask. 

“Just you,”

“Why?” Sirius’ demand visibly irritates Filch but he answers nonetheless, happy to have done so when he’s rewarded with Sirius’ pale and ghostly expression — an explicit look of horror.

“Your father is here,” the edges of Filch’s lips seem to twitch but ultimately remain in a straight line, neither smirking nor frowning, “shouldn’t keep ���im waitin’ now,” James was immediately vocal in his protests. He could tell that Sirius was petrified at the thought of his father and immediately assembled the pieces Sirius was willing to divulge the night before on his home life — his mother was supportive but his father was not. James’ bold protectiveness over Sirius was heartwarming, he never had anybody stand up for him against his father much like this. Primarily because not many were a witness to it and Sirius would like to keep it that way as much as possible. His mother protects him now but this was only recently. Before that, Sirius made sure to keep Regulus out of trouble, vowing to protect his little brother and avoid trouble for his sake alone. James’ display was refreshing and touched his heart. And it was what gave Sirius the strength to willingly go with Filch. 

Despite the bubbling dread in his stomach, Sirius keeps his chin high as he’s escorted to Dumbledore’s office. Although fearful at first, the prospect of facing his father at Hogwarts made Sirius more angry than anything else. Yes, he was shocked and, in that shock, terrified,  but for his father to behave so impudently by visiting Hogwarts was highly hypocritical when the man always demeaned Sirius and punished him whenever he behaved or spoke in a disorderly way. Their encounter was surely going to be an explosive one. 

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Orion was losing his patience. It wasn’t like him to act so brazenly but the current oddness of his wife had been provoking his displeasure. He’s been feeling the unpleasant bubbling for an entire month and endured it all. So it shouldn’t be a surprise that Sirius’ Gryffindor sorting finally made him blow up and throw about the house’s interior in a blind rage. Atop that, Orion had been even more disgraced but in his own home this time; his wife had ordered their filthy, useless house elf to move all her belongings into a spare bedroom. 

They no longer shared a bed. 

Imagine his surprise when, the following morning, he was greeted by his wife and son at the fireplace, ready to floo to Hogsmeade and journey to Hogwarts. 

“Regulus and I will be having breakfast at the Three Broomsticks,” you announced firmly, reminding him of the early hour. He had the open invitation to join you both but Orion refused, demanding that the matter with Sirius was urgent and that there wasn’t any need for breakfast. But he should have listened to his wife. When he charged up to Hogwarts ahead and was greeted by Dumbledore, the wistful headmaster had him wait around until he was finished with his breakfast before Sirius was finally called for, requesting that the Squib caretaker do the retrieving. Now, Orion sat in the office with an empty stomach and only his anger fuelling him. 

“I hope that your boy has had the time to eat his breakfast as well,” Orion looks at the headmaster, stopping his impatient foot tapping when he notices the mysterious gleam in the elderly wizard’s eyes, “we wouldn’t want him going to class with an empty stomach,” 

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Orion was an idiot. You had an idiot for a husband. The thought made you roll your eyes and scoff irritably. Men were so pigheaded sometimes, do they even realise how annoying they can be? 

Observing Regulus as he wiped the crumbs off his mouth with a napkin was all you needed to ease your mounting irritation, however. Your sons won’t grow up unpleasantly like that; you know that your boys will be true gentlemen, naturally, with their own personal idiosyncrasies but, unlike your foolish husband, they’ll be chivalrous, well-mannered and receptive, you’ll see to that personally. Orion won’t have any influence over them. This is your new life’s mission now. 

“I’m all done now, Mother,” Regulus announces with a somewhat sheepish smile as you grin with amusement against the lip of your teacup. He knows he didn’t pay the best attention to his etiquette when devouring his plate of breakfast at The Three Broomsticks but you don’t seem to mind so maybe he’ll get away with it… Little did he know that you found him incredibly adorable and enjoyed the way he appeared more like a child his age for once. 

“That’s good, dear,” your calm demeanour and slow actions makes slight panic flash in Regulus’ eyes. He’s concerned at the lack of action, the passing of time and the idea that he won’t be there when his father and brother meet, “we will keep our promise, Regulus, I assure you,” his endearing worry is met with your kind smile, “I’m sure Sirius is enjoying his breakfast right now too,” the growing smirk on your lips begins to reflect on your youngest, who immediately catches onto your cheekiness. 

“I-I suppose father will be going without any breakfast then…” Regulus comments, taking a sip of his apple juice. 

“Darling, who are we to get in the way of your father’s demands? He was ever so insistent,” an amused giggle passes between the two of you and Regulus is finally able to relax a bit. He makes a mental note to write about your uncharacteristic mischief to Sirius in an upcoming letter. He had been meaning to write a letter congratulating Sirius on his sorting but thought it better to voice in person instead after you invited him to Hogwarts under Orion’s furious insistence.

You took some minutes to enjoy the rest of your breakfast before announcing your departure. 

“Come again soon, Mrs Black! Both you and your son are always welcome,” Madam Rosmerta shouts warmly as she waves you and Regulus off with the beer mug she had been polishing. 

“Of course, Madam Rosmerta. Until then, take care!” you call back, smiling happily at the woman. 

Unfortunately, you didn’t account for arriving at Hogwarts castle without a guide ready to escort you from the grand entrance to the Headmaster’s office. It was pure luck that you were spotted by one of your favourite characters and immediately taken to your destination. 

“The headmaster speculated you’d be arriving here,” McGonagall spoke stiffly but warmly in her distinctive Scottish intonation. Following a brief introduction of all parties, she finally begins to lead you and Regulus to the Headmaster’s office. She looked much younger than she did in the films, yet to be worn down by the mischief the marauders cause only to be succeeded by the Weasley twins, coming to wreak the same havoc and closely followed by the golden trio. It was nice to see her modelling such a reliable and tenacious character before Dumbledore manipulates her into becoming hesitant and unreliable, inconstant with her trustworthiness amongst the students. This prestigious school deserved a headmaster who cared for their pupils equally, unswayed by bias – someone fair and trustworthy, not just powerful. In your eyes, that was McGonagall. And you were going to put her in that position yourself. 

“I appreciate that, and I appreciate you coming to collect us,” you voice politely, offering a smile that she appeared taken aback by. She’s been influenced by the rumours as well. Walburga’s magisterial ways and elitism precede her. It was annoying. But, you’ll admit that it’s amusing to see the surprise on people’s faces when you distinguish all those claims personally. Not only are you making a new name for yourself but you also have the satisfaction of tarnishing the bitch in your head’s reputation. That was more fulfilling than anything.     

“It is only the correct thing to do,” 

“Are things always that black and white?” Minerva doesn’t know how to answer your sudden, cryptic comment and you have the slight mind to apologise for your loose lips. Not only was the deputy headmistress caught off guard by the question but she was dumbstruck by the question coming from you, the woman who openly expresses her abhor of muggle borns and blood ‘traitors’ — you and your bloodline were the most ‘black-and-white’ people in wizarding society. To say that McGonagall was speechless was an understatement. To her relief, you breeze past the comment entirely, “I apologise for my husband’s brash behaviour, it’s truly insufferable how audacious he is, sometimes,”  

Clearing her throat, McGonagall goes for the professional response, although she was highly tempted to agree with you, “all parents have a right to have a say in their children’s education,” 

“This goes beyond mere education, professor,” you look into her eyes and are met with agreement, “Surely, you can agree that the matter is useless kicking up such a fuss over and that my husband is entirely wrong. In this matter, I am right in saying he is being an idiot by publicly throwing a tantrum,” you tut in displeasure, “The humiliation of it all is almost unbearable,” at your side, you hear Regulus choke on his laughter and crack a smile, giving his small hand a light squeeze. Finally, McGonagall allows a smirk to stretch across her lips but before she can make any comment of agreement, you’ve already reached the gargoyle entrance to the Headmaster’s office.  

“The password is ‘Pear Drops’,” With a wave of her hand, the gargoyles reveal a spiralling staircase to the Headmaster’s office, “good luck,” she nods at you and you watch as her expression softens ever so slightly to face Regulus and bid him a soft goodbye, “hopefully, our next meeting will be a more pleasant one, down by the great hall on your first year,” Regulus smiles and nods, waving her goodbye. She offers a smile to both of you and turns with a swift swish of her thick, draping robes. McGonagall never expected you to be so warm and pleasant —it’s easy to misjudge the character of a person simply from third-party accounts and retellings. She’ll have to rethink her own prejudices and biases moving forward.  

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Sirius hadn’t arrived yet. As soon as you sat down, Orion was already gritting his teeth, the squareness of his jaw making his frustrations obvious. 

“I told you so,” you voice blankly and with an unamused face to match. Orion didn’t say a word — he couldn’t. He was already facing the consequences of his impatience as his stomach tried to eat itself from hunger. Dumbledore raises a questioning brow at the interaction but doesn’t say anything. Instead, the headmaster turns to Regulus with a kind smile and offers him the latest muggle sweet he’s grown a recent taste for, the password to his office, Pear Drops. 

“Try some, my boy, I promise they’re a delight,” Regulus looks to you, silently asking for permission. 

You smile softly and nod, “Go right ahead dear but you’ve had a rather hearty breakfast, why don’t you save it for a special treat later on?” Regulus nods and reaches for a small handful of the sweets to pocket in the meantime, however, his small, pale hand is smacked away by Orion who hisses angrily through clenched teeth. 

“No son of mine dabbles in any muggle sweets — it’s unbecoming, Regulus!” 

It was thankful that Orion was already clenching his teeth when you slapped him across the face or else he would have bitten straight through his tongue at the force of your firm hand. 

“Touch my son again, and you’ll be falling from the tower without your wand, Orion,” you threaten through clenched teeth of your own as the man stares at you in wide-eyed shock, his expression reflected onto the Headmaster. 

The reddening hand mark on your husband’s pale cheek isn’t nearly enough to contain your rage. Your shoulders and hands shake from the barely contained wrath bubbling in your veins, you don’t even register how your palm was stinging from the slap as well. Rather than divorcing the stinking pile of shit you have for a husband, you’ll end up murdering him instead. Regulus cuddling up to your side was the only thing able to extinguish the violent rage shooting through your bloodstream but seeing the reddening of his small hand from Orion was quickly reigniting the fire within you. 

“You can’t just—” You don’t know what shameless words he planned on stitching together as a poor explanation of his actions but you were having none of it.

“Shut your mouth!” you hiss once more, eyes narrowing at him, “I said he could have some so he’s having some! How dare you publicly cause a commotion like this over Sirius’ sorting andhave the cheek to harm Regulus on top of that! And over muggle sweets?! Have some decorum, Orion! How embarrassing!” Orion appears to shrink in his seat as you lean over more and more with each word. You didn’t see it but Regulus no longer had tears lining the seams of his precious, silver eyes, instead, they were filled with glittering admiration and love at the sight of you defending him. If only Sirius could see their mother like this, he would no longer have any cause for worry about being away at Hogwarts while he stays home. 

“Ahem!” All heads turn to the entrance where Sirius stares on at the scene, wide-eyed and with a delinquent smirk tugging at the edges of his lips. It isn’t until his eyes meet his father’s infuriated ones that Sirius finds the will to conceal his satisfaction. What he had just witnessed was admirable and a laugh desperately tried to push past his lips but he resisted; he was still on the chopping block for his father to rip apart. Although, knowing that you’re also here, eases Sirius’ worries.  

“Sirius,” you breathe with a smile, your expression immediately warming up at the sight of your firstborn. It hasn’t even been a full three days since you’ve last seen him but the effects of missing him were substantial enough that you were able to easily decompress from your heated exchange with Orion. 

“Get over here, boy,” Orion seethes through clenched teeth, his attention averted. Knowing that his son stood before him as a proud Gryffindor and without an ounce of regret for the shame he has befallen their family makes the patriarch clench his fist so hard that his knuckles turn a paper-white. Sirius doesn’t move, he doesn’t even spare him a glance and when Orion follows his son’s gaze, he’s surprised to note that his gaze is fixed on his mother. 

“Feel free to take any available seat,” Dumbledore offers kindly, observing the scene with a curious glint in his eyes. 

“Please come and sit with your brother and me, dear,” you barely finish your words before Sirius moves across the Headmaster’s office to sit beside Regulus, who has promptly pulled away from you to admire his brother. 

“Thank you for arriving so promptly, Sirius,” Dumbledore begins, eyeing the substantial gap between the two parents before settling his twinkling gaze over the first year, “I hope your breakfast wasn’t interrupted too terribly by the sudden meeting,”

Sirius offers polite understanding over the disruption to his morning despite it only being the third day of school. At the sight of Sirius’ clenching and unclenching fists, you can tell that seeing his father was an annoyance, however, you’re proud of his ability to school his expression. He’s already grown up so much…

Giving a slow nod, Dumbledore directs everyone’s attention to Orion, who was barely holding himself together at the unnecessary —in his eyes only — exchange of pleasantries, “Your father has some troubles over your sorting,”

Sirius pays his father no mind as the pathetic man slams his hardened fist against Dumbledore’s wooden desk, “I DEMAND THAT THE SORTING BE REDONE! THIS IS UNACCEPTABLE!” the frightening volume of your reprehensible husband’s words makes Regulus’ shoulders shake but you and Sirius were there for him. Flanked on either side of the youngest, you were able to bring Regulus into your side for a comforting sideways embrace while Sirius reached over to console his brother by threading their fingers together and clasping his hand tightly. Regulus immediately begins to calm down and smiles to himself at the warm feeling of protection surrounding him. 

“…It cannot be done, Mr Black,” Dumbledore states matter-of-factly in a serene voice that bodes no fear for the wrath of your husband. 

“EXCUSE ME?! CLEARLY THIS WAS A MISTAKE—”

“The sorting hat makes no mistakes,” Dumbledore was so firm in his statement, that Orion was left stammering with disbelief. It makes you smirk with a sort of evil satisfaction. What will he say next? 

“That’s impossible! For that tattered old thing to have made no mistakes whatsoever?!” Orion finally has the decency to lower his voice though, not by much. 

“You are free to doubt the sorting hat as you wish Mr Black but it is indisputable and Sirius will not be resorted,”

“Of course not!” you pipe up, pinning your husband with a harsh glare, “For the sake of your own ego and pride, Orion, how could you demand such a thing? This whole fiasco is far more embarrassing than our son being sorted into the house of bravery and courage. Get over yourself. Our son will miss his lesson at this rate. I apologise, headmaster, for my husband’s shameful behaviour, I assure you that my son will behave far more gracefully,” turning away from your staggering husband and the amused headmaster, you look at Sirius with pride. Leaning over Regulus to press a kiss onto his older brother’s forehead he’s able to hear your tender whisper of pride, “I’m so proud of you, darling,”

You leave a humiliated, red-faced Orion to argue with Dumbledore, who handles the overgrown baby’s temper tantrum with grace. It was much appreciated and you were willing to applaud the old wizard if it weren’t for your existing hatred and secret plot to rid him of his position as headmaster. You’ve led Sirius and Regulus to stand quite a distance away from the two so that you could share a private moment, the attention mainly pointed towards your grinning firstborn. 

“Have you received the gift I sent you?” you ask in a whisper as you hold Sirius in a loving embrace, his arms wrap around your shoulders and he presses his nose into your loose hair — you smell like a mixture of milky vanilla, calming lavender, fruity current and flowery jasmine, it’s not like any fragrance he’s ever smelled on you but he’s grown to find comfort in it. He nods and you silently ask for the pin’s whereabouts. 

Sirius reaches into the breast pocket of his school robes, now embellished with the colours of Gryffindor, daring red and enchanting gold. He brings up his fist and unfurls his fingers to reveal the unworn pin. From the side, Regulus gasps at the beauty of such a small and intricate accessory. Smiling, you read off the personal message you engraved on the back before fastening the pin onto his grey cardigan, “A shield to protect my brave, daring and noble son,” you lean back and give him a once over. Sirius can see the visible lining of tears that gather at the edges of your waterline and his breath stills — it was one thing to read of your happiness and pride for his accomplishment at being sorted into Gryffindor but it was another thing entirely to hear the words from you firsthand and to watch as happy tears blur your vision. Sirius has never seen his mother be so happy and proud that she begins to tear up, Regulus hasn’t either and both stare at you in wonderment. Sirius feels as though he would begin to cry himself but refrains from doing so when Regulus looks at him with a bright grin and glimmering eyes of admiration. Regulus was proud and happy for him too…  

Reaching forward, you pat down the lapels of Sirius’ robes, “goodness, you look so handsome in your school robes,” you share a breathless laugh with your bashful, first-year son before bringing him into another embrace. This one feels tighter, “are you truly my son? I can’t believe it!”

“Of course, I’m your son,” Sirius pouts into your shoulder, trying to counteract his glowing grin, somehow, but it’s no use; the urge to smile from the acceptance and the happiness was too overpowering. 

“This feels like a dream…” you whisper into the air and Sirius is brought back to the time he witnessed the affectionate exchange between his mother and younger brother at the home library doorway. He remembers feeling his heart ache and clench before finally shattering into painfully sharp pieces, engulfed by spite and jealousy. But now… you were saying the same words to him…

“…a dream come true?” Sirius asks so softly and with much insecurity, you can’t help but squeeze him tighter. 

“Yes!” you’re giddy with happiness and it’s infectious, even onto Regulus who was momentarily saddened at his older brother’s innocent wants and endurance, silently suffering from that fateful day at the Library, where everything had changed. While Regulus was floating on air from the merriment, his confident, protective and loving older brother was dealt a painful blow right to the heart. He wants to reach out and hug him tight and apologise for not noticing sooner.

“A dream come true, it’s just that.” you laugh again, “I still can’t believe it — you’re my son,” Sirius smiles as you cup his cherubic face with your gentle, loving hands. He’s stuck between jumping for joy and doing a happy dance but settles for shyly avoiding your gaze and smiling down at your wrists, where he witnesses your thumbs lovingly caressing his cheekbones in his periphery. 

“I’m your son…”

“You’re my son…” you kiss his cheek and pull away. Regulus had been inching closer and closer throughout your interaction and you could practically taste his eagerness in the air, wanting to pull his older brother into a warm embrace, himself.

Happily, you allow the two to share a moment and they don’t waste any time holding one another tightly. “I can’t believe you’re a Gryffindor, Siri! Your pin looks so beautiful. Mother did a really good job with it. I wonder where she got it made and how… I hope I get one too…” Sirius, knowing the elation the pin had given him when he had first received it and even more when he read the personalised message engraved on the back, didn’t want to deprive his brother of the same feeling, not a single bit. Looking over at you, he meets your eyes and is immediately assured by the smile dancing on your lips. 

“Of course, you’ll get a pin too, baby,” you seal the promise by pressing a kiss to the back of Regulus’ head, who spins around to face you so quickly, you fear he might have gotten whiplash but the smile on his face was enough assurance. 

“Really, Mother?”

“Really really,”

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Sirius returns to the great hall with enough time to spare. His Gryffindor pin is proudly displayed on the chest of his cardigan as he finishes breakfast with his group of friends. Upon his return, they ask him the obvious questions. 

“Is everything okay?

“What happened?”

“Are you alright?” 

“What was the meeting about?” 

Sirius could hardly answer anything from the flurry of overlapping voices and questions he was being bombarded with, other students were even beginning to look at him with curiosity after witnessing his departure with Filch. However, something in the distance catches his attention. The boys follow Sirius’s distracted gaze as soon as he turns away, not having answered a single query. At the open entrance of the great hall, they witness Orion’s scowling face pass swiftly, barely casting a glance at Sirius. He can’t believe his father is being so childish but it was satisfying to watch and listen to his mother treat him like a child too — a child who got caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Behind him, Regulus appears at your side, walking at a more leisurely pace. You and his little brother take a moment to lock eyes with him from the great hall entrance. Both of you smile and give him a small wave, leaving unhurriedly when he returns the gesture. But not before you blow him a kiss with a devious smile on your lips. 

Despite the tender moment you shared in Dumbledore’s office, of course, you would still want to embarrass him in front of his friends! Sirius wasn’t mad though — it was quite reassuring to see a mischievous side to his mother.

“Th-that’s your mum?” Peter squeaks nervously. He’s heard of the ancient and noble Black family before. And he’s heard a lot about the notoriously disdainful patriarch and matriarch, Orion and Walburga Black so your uncharacteristic actions make him flounder, “I-I didn’t know your mother was capable of smiling like that…” 

“Me neither,” Sirius replies with a grin, but I’m glad I know now. 

“She’s pretty,” James comments, almost gushing as Remus nods along demurely, blushing down into his morning tea. 

“Why did she look at me like that?…” Remus whispers against the lip of his teacup. 

“What was that?” Sirius asks with a curious tilt of his head. He didn’t quite manage to catch what Remus had said but his muttering was enough to pique his interest. In his embarrassment and distracted thoughts from when you had blown him a kiss, Sirius failed to notice the way your gaze lingered on Remus, who noticed an unknown glint come to life in your eyes. “Remus?”

“—N-nothing! It was nothing… nevermind,”

4th September 1971

You can’t get over how adorable the marauders look as first years. They might as well be little babies, their cheeks still possess some youthful plumpness and they look ready to grow into their school robes with much more fullness. However, as adorable as you found them to be, you have much more important and urgent matters that need tending to. You can’t believe how you’d forgotten such an important detail until now but seeing Remus was what you needed for the pieces to finally fit together. 

Damocles Belby. Inventor of the Wolfsbane potion in the 1990s. You aren’t sure about the exact year but it definitely wasn’t invented while Remus was in Hogwarts. That was why you were drawn to his quaint potions shop and why his name has been lingering in the back of your mind since that day. 

Regulus didn’t have any classes with Peony today as it was Saturday and you weren’t entirely comfortable with leaving him alone as Orion was out on business. You didn’t hear of his departure personally, he had Kreacher come and notify you in his stead. He’s still being an overgrown baby about what happened in Hogwarts. 

Dumbledore continued to refuse on the matter of Sirius’ re-sorting and firmly refused all attempts of bribery on your husband’s part. It was an unreasonable request and you were all sent out soon after so that Sirius could finish his breakfast and attend his lessons on time. Admittedly, it was better to receive the news from Kreacher rather than Orion. Despite the action being petty and out of anger, you were more than happy with the arrangement and you’ll be sure to return the gesture – whenever you want to relay a message to him, you’ll ask Kreacher for his assistance too. 

Your droopy house elf sees the mischief in your eyes and immediately notices the lack of offence to Orion’s backhanded pettiness when he hiccuped through the message he was sent to deliver. His mistress has changed so much… though he cannot argue that most of the change was pleasant. 

“I hope you’ll forgive me for arranging an outing so suddenly like this,” you sheepishly apologise, helping Regulus with his suspenders before he pulls his cardigan over his neatly pressed shirt. 

“It’s okay, Mother,” he flashes you a precious grin, “I enjoy spending time with you like this,”

It was hard to resist his sweet words and you’re immediately pulling him into an embrace, pressing light kisses onto his face. Regulus flushes a bright pink when you squeal about how ‘sweet’ and ‘precious’ and ‘charming’ he was. You’ve become so much more affectionate and, even though it’s not an unpleasant change, Regulus still finds it hard to adapt to. However, he can’t say he wants to forget or take for granted the feeling of elation and warmth that floods his chest whenever you act lovingly — he’s always dreamed of receiving affection from his mother like this. 

“Please never grow up my darling,” you sigh, already knowing the truth as you lead him to the fireplace where you’ll floo to Diagon Alley together, “but I suppose you’ll always be my little boy, so growing up won’t be too bad,” Regulus doesn’t openly admit that he wouldn’t mind being the way he is forever so long as you continue being such a wonderful mother. 

“Where will we be going, Mother?” Regulus looks up at you with curious eyes upon exiting the fireplace soot-free. He’s already reaching for your hand so you don’t lose each other in the crowds. 

“We’ll be visiting Mr Belby,” you smile fondly at the grin Regulus flashes you. He surely remembers the lovely couple owning the potion shop from when you went first-year shopping for Sirius. 

“I know where that is,” he pipes up when you look around curiously, trying to map out your journey. 

“Oh? Then do you mind leading me the way there, darling?”

“Of course, Mother, this way,” he steps forward and begins leading you along the cobblestone paths. Belby’s Potions and Ingredients was quite reserved compared to the other shops, which made it hard to distinguish, especially when it’s the weekend and more people are out and about.

“You’re so clever, thank you, darling,” you press a kiss onto the crown of Regulus’ head when he leads you beneath the hanging sign of the shop. 

Regulus grins and his chest puffs out ever so slightly, “you’re welcome, Mother,”

Observing the shop in front of you, your brows furrow with worry, “why does it look closed?” despite the observation, you knock on the door while squinting through the empty shop windows. Their sign states they’re open from Monday to Friday between the hours of 8 am and 5 pm. “They should still be open, it’s only 11 o’clock in the morning…” you knock again with more insistence and shout through the door, worried for the couple. Regulus observes your panic with anxious eyes and begins to feel the distress melting into his thoughts and feelings. The Belby couple were lovely, they were good people that no misfortune should ever try to pollute so he dreads to think they’re in any trouble. Your knocks sound as if you were determined to break their door down just to get inside, you were tempted to cast ‘alohamora’ but there would be no use for that, you’ll be arrested for trying to commit ‘breaking and entering’ in broad daylight.  

It wasn’t until Damocles himself seemingly appeared out of nowhere, looking dishevelled and sleep-deprived that you finally stopped knocking, “Madam Black,” Damocles acknowledges as soon as he opens the door to you and Regulus, “I’m afraid we’re closed for today,” to emphasise his point, he presses the closed sign onto the window of his shop’s door.

“Mr Belby, I apologise for being so demanding but this is urgent,” you try to argue, feeling the distant press of Regulus against your legs, his arms circling your waist for comfort. He doesn’t know what’s happening but to see his mother and the kind Mr Belby interact in such a state of distress made him nervous. This was so opposite to their first interaction at the shop. 

“I-I’m afraid I have far more urgent matters to attend to as of this moment,” he reasons breathlessly, trying to close the door shut but you’re determined. Your mind has been set — not only were you going to help Sirius and Regulus but you were going to be there for Remus too. 

“I insist that what I have to say to you is very important as well!”

Damocles incessantly shakes his head, his lips pressed into a thin line as his knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping his shop’s door handle, “my dearest Ruth is my top priority right now and she’s terribly sick at the moment, please — I’m sure this can wait!” with that, he slams the door shut, causing you and Regulus to flinch at the harsh sound. You didn’t want to hold off on the situation but you know when a line is drawn and Damocles’ insistent refusal of your entry was more than enough to tell you to back away. 

His behaviour was rather odd, however. When you first met the man and his wife, they were beyond lovely. Both were incredibly welcoming and warm, looking down at Regulus, you see the confusion in his clear, steel-grey eyes also. 

“Let's try again on Monday, darling,” Regulus nods at your suggestion. His small brows were furrowed with concern and he seemed hesitant to look away from you despite the smile of reassurance you give him. It warmed your heart seeing how troubled he was over your predicament with Mr Belby; you couldn’t resist kissing away the wrinkle between his brows, “don’t worry, my dear, patience is key when it comes to things like this,” 

Giving one last lingering glance at Belby’s Potions and Ingredients, you redirect Regulus to Gringotts. It rose higher than any of the other buildings in Diagon Alley so it was relatively easy to spot and head towards. Before heading home for the day, you had one more errand to take care of. 

˖  ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔݁ ˖

Filgus was easy to spot, he was the goblin you immediately walked to upon entering the opulent establishment. His sharp, angular features help hold up a monocle over his right eye as a gold chain trails down to the breast pocket of his smart, black suit, though he wears no tie. His healthy head of silver hair is pushed back and tied into a small ponytail at the base of his neck. He looks much younger than his colleagues from the largely less wrinkled visage of his countenance, it was no wonder that entertained your previous request. 

“Madam Black,” Filgus smiles at you, content with your polite, formal greeting. He smiles at Regulus too, who mirrors the goblin greeting at your side, “How may I help you?” he smirks beneath his long and pointed nose. Past the reflections of his monocle, you catch a faint gleam in his eyes, though you can’t comprehend exactly what emotion stands behind it. Was it excitement? Curiosity? Something else entirely, perhaps… “Will you be requesting another commission for our services?” you smile, finally understanding the look in his black, black eyes. 

“Although I highly commend your metalsmith expertise, I am here for a different affair,“ your words pique Regulus’ interest and he begins to speculate whether you had the goblins make Sirius’ Gryffindor pin – it would be an incredible feat if you did, "I only hope to open two new vaults today,” your request eases Filgus’ posture and his action to lean back make you realise the full extent of his previous excitement. It almost makes you want to apologise for not meeting his expectations. 

The first time you had come to him for a commission request, he had been surprised and you suppose he had been able to conceal his delight well but now his disappointment was more obvious. It made you want to giggle but you didn’t want to accidentally offend him or any of the other goblins nearby so you kept your amusement to yourself. 

“That’s simple enough,”

“I want both vaults to have the same precautions and safeguards as the Black family vaults,” his quill stops momentarily as he makes a point of raising a brow at your specifications. A beat passes and he finishes off what he was writing. 

“Who will these vaults be for?”

“They will be for my sons. One for Sirius Orion Black the third,” you reach over to wrap your arm around Regulus’ small shoulders, “and the other for Regulus Arcturus Black,” 

“Unusual,” Filgus comments under his breath but makes his notes regardless of the uncommon application from the Black family matriarch herself. This was not tradition for ancient, noble wizarding families to create a separate vault entirely when they all simply shared one vault. The only reason for something like this to happen would be when someone was disowned by their family and are forced to start from a completely empty vault. Filgus looks up from the parchment he was writing on, only to meet eyes with Regulus who looks white as a ghost and frozen with fear. The sight makes the goblin chuckle under his breath and shakes his head subtly. Even if he wanted to, he had no words of comfort to offer the young wizard. 

“I want the vaults for my sons to be entirely separate from the Black family vaults — nowhere near it,”

“Consider it done. The keys and paperwork will be delivered to you soon enough,”

“Thank you very much, Filgus,” you nod with a smile, “and I assure you that I will be back to request another commission soon enough,” he smirks beneath his pointed nose and his black eyes seem to light up despite their soulless darkness. He says nothing more as you lead Regulus out of Gringotts for the journey home.  

Beside you, Regulus is filled with dread to the point that he feels sick. Getting a separate vault means only one thing and the realisation makes his eyes sting with globulous tears. Looking up at you, his mind flashes with all the happy memories you’ve shared with him and Sirius the past month or so — was that all just a lie? Were you such a good actor that you managed to babble that prideful speech to Sirius at Hogwarts on the spot? Did you always mean to disown them? But then why did you put so much effort into bonding with them like this? It’s too cruel…

“Darling!” you panic at the river of tears running down Regulus’ flushed cheeks. Stepping out of Gringotts, you were just about to ask Regulus if he’d fancy stopping by a sweet shop to bring something yummy home to indulge in and maybe get something for Kreacher too, only to be met by the pitiful image of your youngest sobbing and clinging onto the draping silhouette of your dress skirt. You sweep him up into your arms and move to a bench placed in a, somewhat, secluded location so that you can have a modicum of privacy. “Oh, sweetheart…” you coo and gently brush back his hair with your fingers, “please tell me what’s the matter so that I can help you feel better…” he mutters something incoherent under his breath and in between his hiccups but you ask him to repeat it as you couldn’t hear the first time.  

“Y-you’re going to disown me and Sirius…“ he sobs before throwing himself at your lap and crying into your skirt, “Please don’t disown us, we’ll be good, I promise!” you couldn’t take hearing his tearful cries any longer and you scoop him up again so you could hug him tightly as he wraps his arms over your shoulders to sob into your neck, his legs wrapping around your waist. 

‘Openly crying in public?! HOW DISGRACEFUL! LOOK AT WHAT YOU’VE DONE TO MY SONS YOU WRETCHED THING!’ Walburga screeches in your head but you’re quick to hush her up, completely ignoring her piggish squealing to focus on comforting Regulus. ‘THEY COULD HAVE BEEN TRAINED AND DISCIPLINED INTO HONOURABLE SONS BEFORE YOUR INFLUENCE BUT NOW IT’S COMPLETELY HOPELESS!’ She can rant and squeal and screech as much as she wants, you’re not responding to a single thing. Regulus was much more important right now. 

You sit there with him, softly shushing his sobs and patting his back comfortingly as he cries and cries until his eyes run dry. In his panic and distress, Regulus wasn’t in the right headspace to listen to any consoling words you had to say so you waited. It wasn’t until the neckline of your black dress was made damp with Regulus’ tears that you finally whispered your consolation, he had managed to quiet down to small hiccups and shy sniffles. 

“There is no way on earth that I would ever ever disown you or Sirius, let alone both of you,” you press a kiss to Regulus’ temple, blinking back your tears at the intense display of sadness from your usually mild-mannered son. 

“B-but,” Regulus protests, pulling away to look at you with wide, swollen eyes, “you’ve created a separate vault for me and Sirius, that can only mean one thing…” he explains, making you realise your careless actions. 

“Oh darling, I’m not disowning you at all…” you wipe your thumbs beneath his eyes, offering a sad, apologetic smile for having conveyed such confusing intentions, “I only wanted to make sure you and your brother had something to put your belongings in and have a place for your savings that nobody else can touch,” he tilts his head curiously at you, “it’s to set you and your brother up well for the future. These vaults are for your and your brother’s possessions only, nobody else’s. For now, I’ll have your keys and help you save up some galleons until you’re old enough. I know that we’re a very rich family but there’s no harm in having your own vaults so that you and your brother can start adulthood on a good foundation,”

“…th-that’s all?”

“That’s all,” you nuzzle his nose with your own and kiss his forehead, making him giggle — such a beautiful sound. 

He throws his arms over your shoulders and gives you a tight squeeze, “Thank you, Mother,” you can hear the relief dripping from his voice and it makes your heart clench. 

“I’m sorry for the misunderstanding, darling,” 

“It’s okay…” he whispers shyly, not wanting to pull away so you could witness the flush of embarrassment dusting his cheeks. 

“Next time you’re worried about something, please talk to me, okay? I don’t want you to worry needlessly,”

Regulus nods and pulls away to grin brightly at you, “Okay!” you bought him a lot of sweets at the shops after that. 

11th September 1971 

You visited Belby’s Potions and Ingredients every day for the next week and it was always closed. After some time, you take the trips without Regulus, opting for going by yourself while he’s being tutored by Peony. Usually, you’d make your way home after realising there would be no signs of the couple appearing any time soon. There wasn’t a single light on behind the shop’s windows. Its interior was motionless, like a space suspended in time — nothing was out of place, it was merely still… and it stayed like that for an entire week.

An unhealthy amount of concern was beginning to build up in the pit of your stomach for the couple — perhaps Ruth’s illness the previous week was truly debilitating and when you remember your insensitivity, dominated by desperation, your chest constricts with shame atop the mounting anxiety. After your visit with Regulus, you had purchased a moon calendar and discovered that Remus would be experiencing his first transformation the following night and you suppose that realisation didn’t help your anxiety over the issue. He was going to be experiencing his first transformation so quickly, he barely would have settled into Hogwarts. For that sweet, kind and anxious boy, you were willing to do anything atop all the things you were already planning to do for Sirius and Regulus. 

Belby’s Potions and Ingredients was just ahead now, the muscle memory of the journey there easily guiding your feet and allowing your mind to wonder about the young lycanthrope attending Hogwarts with your firstborn. You were anticipating another uneventful but worrisome visit, however, the sight of an ‘open’ sign hanging on the door made your heart stop. For a moment, you paused, frozen in place and took the time to digest what you were seeing in front of you. You have to confirm that it wasn’t a dream or an illusion that your mind conjured up in its noxious mixture of fret and despair. 

No, this was real! 

Pushing open the door, you rush inside and immediately call out to the potioneer, “Mr Belby! Mr Belby!” you meet the bearded man at his designated station behind the front counter. Beneath his eyes are the faintest trace of dark circles but he manages to smile at your bright demeanour. 

“Good morning, Madam Black,” he greets, somewhat, cheerfully, “how may I help you today?”

With warmth in your eyes, you redirect his statement, “Actually, I was hoping to help you today…” as eager as you were to offer your aide and investment in the brilliant potioneer’s talents, his appearance was a sharp contrast to your first meeting that you were swamped with worry. Damocles gives an inquisitive look at your statement and prompts you for an explanation but it falls on deaf ears when you remember his words the previous week. “How is Ruth?” guilt tugs at your heartstrings and the emotion easily shows on your features, “Is she feeling better?”

Happy to divert from your earlier words in favour of his wife, Damocles smiles rather grimly and nods, “She has quite the weak constitution, especially after an episode,” he’s careful with his words and expertly continues despite his true emotions pleading to take control of his expressions. At times there’s an odd quirk in his smile or a misplaced dullness in his eyes — gone was the man you greeted at your first encounter. He looked poorly. Dishevelled and weighed down by something heavy. Someone so kind, loving and passionate about his work didn’t deserve such troubles. 

“And it’s lasted an entire week?” you’re saddened by his confirming nod and hum, “Is she here? At the shop?” you don’t wait until he confirms nor denies; you’re already stepping towards an isolated but well-loved corner of the quaint shop. 

“Madam Black…” a weak, melodious voice greets you. Approaching Ruth in her rocking chair, you offer a kind smile, happy to see her in, somewhat, good health. “I apologise that my illness has deprived the business of my husband,” she is humbly sheepish and her radiant countenance almost distracts you from her trembling hands. It isn’t a secret how devitalised she is but to still attempt her embroidery in her eroded state makes your chest tighten.

“I’m just happy you’re doing better,” you try to forget the careless words you had desperately shouted the week previous. It wasn’t your intention to be so insensitive and you wouldn’t dare wish any ill-will towards Ruth. The Belby couple are incredibly pleasant people and a treasure to have for company. You suppose that your eagerness to help Remus with his lycanthropy was too strong to resist – not only can you help Sirius and Regulus, but you can help many more of your beloved characters too. 

“Thank you, Madam Black,” Ruth has the loveliest smile, it breaks your heart to know that she’s suffering from such a debilitating, chronic illness. 

“I can’t imagine being as lovely as you despite needing a week to recover from an episode—” You pause and look upon Ruth with searching eyes. Aside from her face, she is covered head-to-toe in clothing. Leaning on the wall was a simple cane within her reach. And, if you weren’t mistaken, exactly a week before today, was a full moon…

“Ruth, my dear, your potion,” Damocles gently reminds, pulling out a phial of the iconic magenta healing potion. You recognise it immediately. It’s the same healing potion you’ve been forced to endure because of the degenerate bitch stuck in your head causing you to faint multiple times. 

“Darling, you’re a wonderful potioneer but I’d rather not consume another healing potion right now. I’ll be sick, otherwise,” Ruth politely declines. Her attentive husband directly goes to protest but you’re quick to interfere. 

“Mr Belby, when did you say Ruth had her episode?” 

“Last week,” he answers nonchalantly, still entirely focused on his wife, who continues to resist his resolute demands of needing to drink the potion. 

“That was a full moon…” the couple pause and a stillness consumes the space. It’s as if you’re suddenly in a vacuum, where time doesn’t exist and everything is at a standstill. “Is Ruth suffering from Lycanthropy?” you take care to keep any form of judgement out of your voice, your tone is neutral, your volume levelled and there isn’t a trace of disdain in your eyes. To avoid causing a huge stir, you try to keep neutral but a warm sadness and soft compassion manages to sneak onto your countenance. 

“Ruth’s illness is not your concern, Madam Black,” Damocles’ voice is strong, commanding and protective. His firm stance as he partially stands in the way of his wife demands that you pull back and stay at a distance. 

“Are you trying to find a cure?” you ask, completely impartial now and, almost, chillingly stoic. Damocles doesn’t answer. You glimpse their connected hands, their grip on each other is as strong as a tightly wound knot; it would be a struggle to pry them apart. “If you are, there isn’t a cure—” 

“I WON’T STAND FOR ANY VERBALLY DEMEANING REMARKS AGAINST MY WIFE! GET OUT! YOU ARE NOT WELCOME HERE!”

“I haven’t said anything of the sort to Ruth…” you smile kindly at the potioneer and reach out your hand, “I want to help you,”

“HYPOCRITE!” his loud volume makes you immediately retract your hand. From her seat, Ruth places a gentle hand on her husband’s forearm, a silent plea to give you a chance. Damocles doesn’t fully yield his anger but, in respect of his wife, lowers his voice slightly, "You just denied that a cure could be made!” he can’t trust you. You are a Black, the matriarch, in fact — your entire family despise dark creatures, even those that were afflicted without their consent, much like his dearest. He won’t let you lay a finger on his wife. 

“I said that only because that goal is too ambitious for the moment.” your comment makes Damocles pause, shocked but thoughtful, “I can’t encourage you to make a cure right away but I will support you in the endeavour to create a potion that will relieve the symptoms of Lycanthropy,”

“Support, how?” 

“Funding?” you suggest, “I can help you get expensive ingredients. Or maybe I can help you with research? Or I can keep Ruth company while you focus on your work entirely? I can do all of that and more if you will only let me,” 

The couple look at each other with curious eyes that also fill with fear and hope. 

“…what do you hope to gain from this?” Damocles needed to know. He just couldn’t fathom that someone of such high standing in the wizarding world, who was infamous for her intolerance of dark creatures, muggles, half-bloods and everything that didn’t reflect her skewedimage of ‘pure’ was in favour of helping him, the husband to a lycanthrope.

“I have no ulterior motives… I only wish to turn over a new leaf and help those that I can,” 

“I don’t believe you,” Damocles looks at you with suspicious eyes, narrowed and sharp. He is a contrasting image to the kind and warm man you first met at the counter on Sirius’ Hogwarts shopping day. 

“Then believe that I also have someone…” you look at Ruth, meeting her gentle eyes with a soft stare, “Believe that I have someone I deeply care about and wish to help with their Lycanthropy too,” you’re unable to break eye contact with Ruth; she can comprehend the deep sorrow in your eyes along with a determination that cannot be rivalled. It connects with her deep down, making her heart ache with feelings of desperation and painful hope.  

Damocles is torn. Ever since meeting his current wife, he has wanted nothing more than to use his expertise in potions to help her condition. It was an ambition he had been doing alone largely due to the prejudicial opinions surrounding Lycanthropy. It’s been years and his progress has barely been noticeable. All he’s been able to achieve are potions that barely have an effect. His recent potion was the most progress he’s ever made, where he was able to reduce her anxieties during the transformation. It was only thanks to the powdered moonstone he had managed to get a hold of. If he can have easy access to such valuable ingredients, his progression on the potion will be exponential. But he resists. He’s getting carried away by the excitement of possibilities, not only will he be helping his wife but he will have the opportunity to work with high-quality, precious ingredients again. He was a potioneer, not a businessman so his shop is barely keeping him and his wife afloat, their heads barely above the water of bills and necessities.

Ruth looks at her husband’s thoughtful countenance. She feels such guilt for burdening him with her condition but she doesn’t regret marrying him and promising to share the rest of her life with the kind man. Damocles makes the effort to always support her and assure her that he loves her regardless of her condition and affiliated insecurities. He loves her for her smile, her beautiful eyes, her delicious cooking, her kind heart, her precious love of books, her talent for embroidery, her loving words and the fact that he feels whole with her. The moment he said his vows and uttered the words ‘I do’, he had pledged to take care of her wholeheartedly and he intends to keep that promise, in the same fashion she does.    

“Sweetheart…” Ruth pleads with her eyes, staring up at her husband as tears well up in their eyes. They don’t know your full intentions but they’re willing to do whatever it takes. 

‘I want to take care of her,’

‘I want to be good to him’

“…alright, it’s a deal,”

You leave the store with the promise of visiting the Belby couple again soon, where you plan on catching up with Damocles’ progress and discuss future endeavours with the confidential project. The buzz and thrill pulse through your arterial system like an effusive river, unable to stop and eager to run its course all the way to its estuary but you don’t have one so the rush will have to calm on its own. 

This was a step forward in helping Remus and Ruth as well as many more werewolves across the country. The week you were shut out of the shop because of Damocles’ absence, you’ve been relentlessly planning your future tactics. It’s led to further elaborations on your other plans as well as the inclusion of other entirely new plots. You not only have the power and insight to help your darling sons but a myriad of other characters as well. There wasn’t going to be a chance of you doing one without the other now. Everything is interconnected in this universe; if you help Remus, you’ll also be helping Sirius and Regulus. Everything connects to your beautiful sons — you weren’t going to neglect a single path forward. It’s ambitious but when has a challenge ever stopped you from moving forward somehow? Never. 

Entering 12 Grimmauld Place, you were met with an eerie quietness. Searching for the time on the grandfather clock down the hall, you realise that Regulus would have finished his lesson a little while ago, nearing half an hour. The realisation jumpstarts your nerves and you’re rushing up the stairs to greet him at the Library; that’s where he usually goes to consolidate his lesson notes. You can vividly imagine him bent over a desk, carefully skimming over inky parchment as a plate of snacks and a cup of tea sit within arms reach of him, courtesy of Kreacher. When you peek into the Library, however, there isn’t a trace of Regulus anywhere. Where could he be? Regulus is fond of his routines and doesn’t normally stray from them, especially when it comes to his workflow study habits. 

Why do I have a bad feeling?... You think to yourself, placing a trembling hand over your thundering heart. The silence around you is deafening now and you have to hold back on rampaging through the house. Orion is home… In situations like this, you must stay calm. If Orion has done something to Regulus, it’ll be best if he doesn’t know you’ve come home yet. 

“Mistress! Mistress!” Kreacher appears out of thin air, tugging anxiously at his ears with eyes as wide as saucers. The panic in his watery gaze sets your own heart racing with apprehension. You already know what may be happening.

“Where is Regulus?”

“The vault, Mistress! The vault!”

You’ve never been in the very upper levels of the house before. It never felt worthy of exploration when you wanted to focus on your boys and the plans you’re slowly beginning to implement for them and the universe. 

The uppermost floor of the house was an attic space that had the far end shut off as a separate room. This area must be due to some space-warping magic because the roof was flat from the outside but the ceiling of this large room had the typical triangular roof shape. Boxes and other miscellaneous items litter about the, otherwise, sparse area, providing plenty of nooks and crannies for spiders and other creepy-crawlies to make a home in. Kreacher stays by the skirt of your dress, trembling from restlessness as you lean further into the room. He informed you that Regulus was forcibly dragged up here by Orion as soon as he saw off Peony at the fireplace. Orion had been peacefully reading The Daily Prophet in an armchair in the corner of the living room. Regulus was jumped by his own father. The old dirtbag must still be incensed by Sirius’ sorting ceremony and what had occurred at the Headmaster’s office. 

Narrowing your gaze, you focus on Orion, who leans against the locked door of the attic’s separate room. The iron wall that sectioned it off blended into the metal door that was firmly shut. From within that small, hollow, metal room came desperate banging, presumably from Regulus hitting the walls with his closed fists. The thought makes your hand clench around your wand tightly. This pathetic bastard has a death wish…

“If your brother had been sorted into Slytherin this wouldn’t be happening Regulus! How big of a disappointment the both of you are!”

“Father! I’m sorry!” Regulus’ pleading comes out muffled through the metal walls and door, you can barely hear him. It makes you want to hollow out your chest with the way your heart is relentlessly clenching down on itself.

“When you turn eleven and enter Hogwarts, you better be sorted into Slytherin OR ELSE YOU WILL BE IN FOR A WORLD OF PAIN! DO YOU HEAR ME?!”

“…n-no father…” 

“WHAT WAS THAT?!!! REGULUS?!!!” Orion’s angry shout was met with silence and he punches the mental door in anger, the force making the structure shake, “ANSWER ME, BOY!”

“Flippendo!”you utter angrily under your breath with your wand raised at Orion’s turned back. The spell sends him flying forward with a startled scream. His head hits the metal door and he’s immediately knocked unconscious. You don’t wait a second further to rush forward and unlock the metal door. It takes a great amount of effort to pull open with its heftiness but maternal instincts make it as simple as opening any normal door. 

“Mother!” Regulus cries at the sight of you from where he’s seated directly behind the door. The enclosed space was incredibly dark, there wasn’t a window anywhere. With the light filtering in past your silhouette, you looked like an angel sent to rescue him. 

“Let's get you out of this horrid room, darling,” it’s hard to relax or temper your anger when you’re looking upon your trembling son who should only ever be smiling. You don’t want him spending a second longer in this horrible attic so you quickly lift him into your arms and rush him down to his room as he cries freely from relief. 

You weren’t in a hurry to get Regulus settled beneath his blankets and tucked in; having him in your arms was a firm reassurance that he’s with you, safe and sound so you’re reluctant to let him go. Nevertheless, you get him settle him down and sit at his bedside before flicking your wand up. The gesture draws back the curtains to their furthest limits and opens up the windows to allow in some fresh air. 

“You’re okay, darling. Mother’s here now…” you whisper, gently petting his forehead and combing back his inky curls. Beneath the covers, Regulus can’t seem to stop himself from shaking but enjoys the sunlight pouring in through the windows and the cooling breeze that caresses his pale, tear-streaked cheeks. He hasn’t said a single word and neither have you. His gaze remains transfixed on the open window where the blue skies are decorated with floating clouds. You watch as his anxious expression gradually loosens, unfurling into one without emotion. “My love?…” the tension in Regulus’ small shoulders and tight limbs melts away when your voice finally breaks through the ringing in his ears. “I’m so sorry…I didn’t mean to leave you home alone…”

His eyes flicker up to hold your gaze. He watches as tears gather at your waterline before spilling over in a cascade of glittering diamonds, created under the mounted pressure that was your love and panic for him and his wellbeing.

“Mother is so incredibly sorry,” you cradle his small hand in your own before pressing his palm against your tearful cheek. “Please forgive me, I promise I won’t let this happen ever again,”

You had nothing to be sorry for. It wasn’t your fault. Regulus was frightened and shaken up by his father’s aggressive and malicious expression of contempt, you had done nothing. Regulus would willingly go through that all over again if it meant his father didn’t get to touch Sirius. For the longest time, Sirius had been his only protector and now he has you too. He can bear anything if it means keeping his older brother safe the same way he kept Regulus safe before you came to protect both of them. For the longest time, it felt as if they were the only two people who truly understood each other — it still largely feels that way — and that they were the only ones who knew how to protect each other properly. But that wasn’t the case anymore because they have you now. Beautiful, amazing, motherly you. 

Oftentimes, Regulus would remember the day you had such a drastic personality change. It started normal despite the odd behaviour you had been partaking in leading up to that moment, spending more time in the private quarters meant only for the ladies of the Black family. It had been happening for weeks and the behaviour was odd but since it’s led to such a change of heart in you, the two brothers didn’t question it. 

Here you are now, apologising for his father’s abuse and tearfully pleading for his forgiveness. Regulus never would have imagined witnessing the beautiful image of his mother expressing such sincere sorrow and guilt over his ailing form. The youngest Black thinks he could be dreaming, still back in that claustrophobic attic vault and conjuring up a hallucination to save himself from the mental turmoil the small space puts him through. Sirius had nothing to worry about when he left for Hogwarts because, no matter what, you’ll be there for him and Regulus, even if it means going against Orion. 

“It’s okay, Mother,” Regulus softly smiles up at you, his brows furrowing slightly when his words make your tears pour out in more globulous amounts. 

“This won’t happen again, I swear it,” you press a kiss against his small palm. 

“I know,” the trust and belief Regulus has in you shines through in the glimmer of his eyes, catching the sunlight pouring in from his windows. With your heart stuttering in your chest, you pause before opening your arms and leaning forward to embrace his form through the blankets. “NO!”with a loud shout, Regulus pushes you away and presses his eyes tightly closed.

When Regulus opens his eyes again, you’re frozen in place with wide, shocked eyes. You don’t know what to do. In your chest, your heart breaks at the notion that Regulus doesn’t want to be touched by you but there’s a side of you that reassures his reaction is natural considering what he had just gone through. The conflicting emotions freeze up your limbs and leave you motionless, vulnerable to be swayed onto either side.

Realisation dawns on the youngest Black brother and a frightened gasp escapes him before he’s apologising profusely. Tears reappear at his waterline and threaten to spill over at the thought of pushing you away when all you wanted to do was comfort him. He needs to explain! He has to explain! 

Please don’t hate me! Please don’t hate me! Pleasedon’thateme!

“I’m sorry, Mother!” Regulus reaches for your hand and squeezes it in between his own, “I-I don’t feel comfortable in tight spaces, I don’t want to be h-hugged right now,” you have reminded him and Sirius multiple times that they have the right to communicate their emotions, wants and needs. The important thing you always emphasised was that you would never be angry at them for doing that – Regulus is holding you to your word but waits with bated breath for your response.  

His words were all the confirmation you needed to relax. Of course, that was what he was worried about most. How stupid and selfish of you to make this situation about yourself when Regulus had gone through something so traumatising. 

“Don’t worry, my love, I should have been more considerate of you,” you carefully shush him and wipe away his silent tears, resisting the urge to lean in and take up more of his personal space, “please don’t cry, you have nothing to be sorry for…if you don’t feel comfortable with anything please tell me right away. I promise I won’t get angry or take offence,” you look into his eyes earnestly, reiterating the words you always reminded him and his brother of. It makes Regulus smile softly; you kept your word, “I only want you to be comfortable and happy, always, okay?”

Regulus calms down and nods affirmatively, his smile growing. You agree to hold his hand in silence while he falls asleep and relish being allowed to stay close despite what happened to him earlier. His hand is small but his grip is strong, he doesn’t seem to want to let go of your hand, even in his sleep. You will protect him forever and always. 

While Regulus rests peacefully in his room, you carefully slip away from his hold to make dinner. His favourite. So is dessert. He’ll be eating all of his favourites for the next week and he’s getting spoiled rotten. As usual, Kreacher accompanies you and ambles about the kitchen under your precise instructions, however, you have a special task for him tonight. 

“Is Orion still unconscious in the attic, Kreacher?” you ask monotonously. 

“Y-yes mistress,“

“Good,” you chirp cheerfully, “Please move him to the bottom of the third staircase,” Kreacher gives you a curious look but doesn’t question your intentions. 

“And then, mistress?”

“Leave him there,” in a blink, Kreacher had disappeared to do your bidding. The house elf doesn’t know what you have planned for the patriarch but knows it would be to avenge the young master. That was enough for Kreacher. 

When Kreacher rejoins you in the kitchen to finish preparing Regulus’ dinner, you proceed to tell him that he move Orion to bed as soon as he wakes up. But only when he wakes up. 

“Whatever the mistress says,” Kreacher nods. 

When you bring up the trays for Regulus, he’s still peacefully asleep in bed so you place his food at his bedside and ask Kreacher to keep the meal warm by putting a spell on the plates like he often does with yours and the boys’ tea. It’s then that the wrinkly elf perks up and alerts you that Orion has awoken. Nodding briefly at him, he disappears with a snap of his fingers and you immediately know he’s gone to do as you’ve asked earlier on. While he does that, you fetch Orion’s dinner as well, which is simple tomato soup with garlic bread — it’s more than he deserves. 

As soon as you enter the room with the food tray, you hear Orion muttering to himself bitterly as he sits up in bed, “Useless house elf, leaving me at the bottom of the stairs,”

“I told Kreacher to leave you there,” you explain gently as you approach his bedside. 

“WHAT?!”

“Calm down, Orion, you’ll only hurt yourself more if you act so excited after just waking up,” as if on cue, Orion groans and falls back with a hand pressed against his temple, “See? Here, I’ve made dinner to help you feel better, eat it at your own pace,” it hurts you to smile at him after what he’s done to your sweet, precious Regulus but you have to be patient. You’ll bring the axe down on his neck soon. You can’t believe you were willing to settle for divorce alone but that’s not enough for someone like him. Now, you have something much more fitting in mind.

“Why did you tell Kreacher to leave me there?” Orion doesn’t take the food right away, only giving it a brief side-ways glance before trying to figure out what happened. 

“It was for your safety. It looked like you hit your head and that’s a very sensitive place, I was worried that if he moved you, he’d end up carelessly hurting you even more and we don’t want that…”

With a huff, he deems your explanation decent enough and finally sits up again, reaching for his food. You smile even more, eagerly anticipating his replenishment on your home-cooked meal when he stops to ask something, “Did you have something to do with this?…” He gestures to his temple subtly, referring to his injury. 

“Of course, I did,” you answer simply, ignoring the blend of shock and fury that consumes his expression, “I made sure your meal was very nutritious so you can heal properly,”

“That’s not what I—… never mind,” Orion sighs in defeat and slowly begins to eat in bed. He gives an occasional groan of protest, reaching up and making it obvious how uncomfortable his temple is, silently asking for additional attention and care. He’s not getting any of that from you. Rather, you quite enjoy his uncomfortable musings. You won’t take initiative, instead, you’ll wait until he explicitly asks for a healing potion before finally giving him one. You’ll ensure that Kreacher is informed of this too. He’s a mere house elf, after all, your stupid husband can’t expect Kreacher to make any helpful suggestions. 

“Make sure to eat everything, it’s to help with your health, okay?” you leave him to finish off his meal alone, smiling all the way to Regulus’ room. 

‘YOU PUT SOMETHING IN MY HUSBAND’S FOOD! I SAW IT!’ Walburga screeches in your head. For once, it comes out as music to your ears. The laxatives were from a muggle store so she has no clue what you’ve done.

‘Now, now Walburga,’ you inwardly voice in a patient and gentle tone, ‘Orion was very naughty doing that to Regulus while I was away. So kindly SHUT THE FUCK UP AND ENJOY THE SHOW YOU FOUL, EMACIATED, UGLY BITCH!’ that shuts her up nicely just as you’re about to enter Regulus’ bedroom again, smirking to yourself at Orion’s imminent doom.  

‘Enjoy the explosive diarrhoea you disgusting prick,' 

You also manage to bring up a second helping of food so you can eat together with Regulus when he finally wakes and has the appetite for dinner. In the meantime, you brought your notebook of plans to continue your scheming at Regulus’ desk. You had spent some time admiring his layout and the way he organises his stationery. He has quite a mature system in place for someone so young but it was something you admired — you can tell how incredibly bright his future is going to be just from seeing how he sets up his workplace. Truthfully, the set-up helped motivate you more, you want to preserve your youngest son’s hopes, dreams, happiness and everything about him so that he can live a fulfilled life — not even his desk will be touched by those with malicious intent or anyone that wanted to drag him down. 

Your specific plans for tonight focus solely on the wolfsbane potion and trying to remember everything about it in your universe. From the corner of your eye, you have the perfect image of Regulus peacefully sleeping in bed, tucked up and cosy. There isn’t a single sign of terror to agitate his precious features, rather, he looks completely at peace. This is how he should always look. The image encourages you to push forward, trying to remember any bit of helpful information from your previous life as a Harry Potter fan. Even if the clue may seem unhelpful or completely made up, you write it down regardless. 

‘All this and for what?!’ the nagging voice in the back of your head makes another appearance but you simply roll your eyes. If you give her more attention than she deserves, you’ll only spur her on more, ‘not only is my son part of that foolish house but you’re making such efforts for disgusting half-breeds! Ridiculous! Have you no shame?!’she screeches unpleasantly to the point of making your inner ears ache. However, it was at that moment that a thought occurred to you. It’s strange…very strange. Orion made his displeasure of Sirius’ sorting known the instant he heard the news but Walburga only voices her dissatisfaction now. 

‘When I think about it… you didn’t freak out half as much as Orion when letters gossiping of Sirius’ sorting came. I was fully predicting a meltdown that would put me in a coma for a day or two,’ you internally voice, passing it off as an innocuous comment in the hopes that it leaves her naive to your true intentions. 

‘Your sickening plans for that pin were too much of a distraction!’Walburga excuses as you keep quiet. If you interrupt her ramblings, you won’t be able to pick up on the reasoning behind her actions. It’s best to let her get ahead of herself, the fool, ‘Typical for a soft-hearted, feeble muggle like you! Celebrating such a dishonourable sorting ceremony result! It’s simply humiliating! Rather than that revolting pin, I sent that no good son of mine a howler the day after his sorting. Useless child! He’s no Black, he’s a no-good, mud-blood-loving, blood-traitor who likes to engage with half-breeds and is an utter disgrace to his family! Associating himself with that ‘light’ Potter family, engaging with filthy mudbloods and blood traitors — dirty! The lot of them! Regulus is my only good child, if only he hadn’t gotten himself killed trying to leave the organisation, he would have been my perfect son!’

‘H— How do you know that?…and how do you know about his ‘half-breed’ friend you vile piece of shit?’ as always, her disgusting attitude makes your blood boil on Remus’ and Ruth’s behalf. How dare she act so high and mighty when she’s the most unpleasant person to ever exist? She doesn’t answer your question, instead, she becomes eerily quiet once more. Scoffing at her cowardly departure from the conversation, you make an urgent annotation in your notebook. Hopefully, this will lead to some answers. 

‘Investigate the first room you woke up in’

SERIES M.LIST | NEXT. 07 : ... →

A/N : This was longer than I intended but a lot has happened so I hope you enjoy the read regardless. I'm sorry for what happened to our baby but we'll be there for him as you were able to see. No way are we letting that slide nor are we going to let that happen any longer. 

Thank you again to all the darlings who always show their love and support of this series, even though I adore writing it and planning future chapters, it's also really time-consuming and exhausting to keep up at points so it really means a lot when I see that you darlings enjoy the read and look forward to series updates. 

please like, comment and reblog to show your support, i'd really appreciate it! property of kquil ; all written content is mine and no one else's unless stated otherwise ; do not steal, plagiarise, modify or translate to other sites

[arkhammaid]

— ˚₊‧⁺˖ THE WORDSMITH.

fandom. formula one

pairing. charles leclerc x author fem!reader (fc: none)

about. bestseller author genevieve dedicates her newest book to a special person. the internet tries to find out who it is

content warnings. social media au, not edited/proofread

notes. who doesn't dream about being a world famous author?

GENEVIEVE_UPDATES

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc and 10'883 others

genevieve_updates The dedication in the newest Bestseller 'When We Were Wallflowers', by @/genevieve. For the first time in her career she mentiones a partner, calling him 'my love' and surprisingly also 'mon coeur'. Who could her beau be?

user NO MOTHER IS NO LONGER SINGLE

⤷ user my life is officially over...

user HE'S THE REASON WHY WE HAVE THE BEST ROMANCE BOOK OF THE DECADE THANK YOU DAD

⤷ user parents fr 🙏🙏🙏

user "our story now forever immortal and never forgotten" AND WHAT IF I CRY

user don't know if i should cry tears from sadness that mom is taken or happiness that mom is taken

⤷ user at least he makes her happy (delulu)

⤷ user you're so right, tears of happiness then

user THE F1 X GENEVIEVE CROSSOVER IS HAPPENING??

⤷ user SO I'M NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO NOTICED PIERRE IN THE LIKES

⤷ user charles as well???

⤷ user hello wtf is happening SINCE WHEN DO THEY READ??

user "YOUR WORDSMITH"???? am i the only one loosing my mind over this

⤷ user no. i just haven't recovered yet

GENEVIEVE

liked by pierregasly, charles_leclerc, haileybieber and 503'002 others

genevieve My summer was filled with flowers and love, so much love. It has given me enough inspiration to write yet another romance book, even if I promised to return to my beloved fantasy. Yet when the heart calls... who am I to refuse? 'Reverie, Lost in your Love' will be published in November '24!

user HOLY SHIT WE'RE GETTING FED FR

user SHE NAMED HER NEW BOOK REVERIE I CAN NOT

⤷ user reverie: a state of being pleasantly lost in your thoughts, almost dreaming

⤷ user mom is big brained fr "lost in your love"? yes, yes i will be

haileybieber I will be (im)patiently waiting, as always 💗

⤷ genevieve And I will be sending you the first draft, as always

⤷ user their friendship is so dear to me 🥹🥹

⤷ user icons supporting icons i fear

⤷ user auntie hailey better drop some spoilers!!!

zendaya We're getting another romance by our queen! Rejoice!!

⤷ user DAYA IS LIKE US FR

⤷ user WEWOOO SHE READS GENEVIEVE

user i just know the cover will be serving cunt (in the most beautiful flowers)

user REVERIE REVERIE REVERIE

user only four months left... only four months left......

pierregasly super liked by pierre gasly

⤷ user why is he so unserious 😭

⤷ user "super liked" goddamn we're finally reaching the part where he will rate posts he likes

CHARLES_LECLERC

liked by pierregasly, andferrari007, arthur_leclerc and 1'032'883 others

charles_leclerc Nothing better than summer, sun, beach and a good book in my hands. And of course good company 😉

user the tan 🫠🫠

user IS THAT A GENEVIEVE BOOK??

⤷ user oh my god you're right

⤷ user and it's one of her fantasy ones, from her fae series 👀

⤷ user charles has taste

user first he's in her likes and now he's reading her books... how do we tell him

⤷ user hear me out, genevieve and charles *gets shot*

⤷ user KEEP YOUR MOUTH SHUT, MOM DESERVES SO MUCH BETTER THAN HIM

⤷ user i trust in mom and i trust that she wouldn't fall for a vroom vroom man

pierregasly you already finished the other books?

⤷ charles_leclerc Breezed through them 😆

⤷ arthur_leclerc He's waiting for November

⤷ pierregasly aren't we all?

user the filter is back..

⤷ user the filter never left

GENEVIEVE

liked by charles_leclerc, zendaya, gigihadid and 3'029'746 others

genevieve "J'adore ton sourire, ma belle." I remember hearing these words for the first time, I remember his own smile he gave me back then, and I just knew, I love him. Thank you, Charlie, mon coeur, for standing by my side, for being my inspiration, my defender against the cursed writer's block. Your passion inspires me to write even more, so I'm proud to announce once again, another romance book. 'Winterbliss and Midnightkiss' will be available in March '25.

charles_leclerc Tu es incroyable, ma belle ❤️

⤷ genevieve Right back at you, my champion

comments have been limited

taglist. @lilypadlover , @adorablezhui , @peqch-pie , @namgification , @keyz-writes , @obsidianjewel , @aimixx , @themercyverse , @lem-hhn , @lupicalbestwolf , @akiraquote

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ARKHAM MAID 2024

[delulu-baddie]

Between Sister and Heart

Summary: You begin to question your morals after getting into a relationship with your sisters ex Caitlin.

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Warnings: Cheating and a few curse words

A/N:  I’m getting ready to go back to school so lifes been kind of hectic, but this is going to be a multi part series. As always thank you guys so much for reading and all of the love on my past projects. Lastly, make sure to send in some requests so that I can give you guys stories that you want to read. <3

_________________________________________________

You knew it was wrong and you should've stopped this a while ago. You two are going to cause so much hurt to someone that you love, but something about Caitlin made all of your morals go out the window. 

Caitlin and your sister Audrey had been together for the past two years and while you weren’t exactly fond of her in the beginning, you grew to like her, which turned into a great friendship, and you should have stopped there but didn’t. As time went on your feelings for the girl began to grow and for a while you were able to keep them to yourself, until you werent. 

9 Months Ago

Tonight one of Caitlins teammates was planning on throwing a party to commemorate the beginning of the new school year. Your sister is a STEM major, and has always taken her academics seriously, putting school work before anything else. You on the other hand were the opposite. You had a pretty easy major, probably one of the easiest your school has to offer. You liked going out to drink with friends, and going on random adventures, even when you knew you should be at home finishing assignments. Caitlin had always liked that about you. Typically when Audrey would tend to flake on certain events whenever she had a big assignment or a test coming up which ultimately was the reason she decided to start hanging out with you more, and tonight was no different.

Caitlin had let your sister know about Kate's party weeks ago, and while she didn’t give a definite ‘yes’, it still surprised Caitlin when she got a text saying she wasn’t going to be able to go because one of Audreys professors had already scheduled a test coming up in a week. Audrey knew her girlfriend hated going places alone when she planned on drinking so she urged Caitlin to ask you to go to her place. But what she didn’t know was that her girlfriend was happy that she had told her to ask you to go in her place. 

You had just finished up an assignment for your math class and heard a notification from your phone, quickly checking it and seeing a text from Caitlin.

                                            CC <3

CC <3

hey, ik this is totally last minute but your sister bailed on 

me and i need someone to come with me to my friends

party tn. so could you be the most perfect friend ever

and come with me. I’ll buy you crumbl cookie!

Y/N                                                                    

wow… glad to know im a

scapegoat. :’(

CC <3

omg you're right that sounds so insensitive, im sorry!

you don’t have to go, im sure you already have plans

for the night, i just figured id ask.

                                        Y/N

          chill clark, you had me at crumbl

what time do i need to be ready??

CC <3

in like two hours, you can come over to mines

to get ready if you want

Y/N

okay, ill be there in like 30. im

going to shower rq

CC <3

tysm! you're an angel!!!

You quickly take a shower and start getting your stuff together running back and forth between yours and your sister's closets trying to piece together an outfit. Once you come up with an outfit you deemed appropriate for a house party you say goodbye to your sister before making your way to Catlins. 

The drive is short since she only lives about ten minutes away, but you still rush out seeing as you have a little over an hour to get your hair and makeup done. You make your way to her front door and knock before its swiftly opened by a smiling Caitlin.

“Well if it isn't the life saver herself” She says bringing you into a hug.

You giggle at the comment before responding “Life saver or scapegoat?”

“Okay you know I love you and that I hate making plans with people at the last minute. It's not personal.” she says, rolling her eyes playfully and walking back towards her room to finish getting ready.

You follow the tall girl deeper into the apartment before making your way into the bathroom next to her and laying out all of your hair tools. After about half an hour you finally finish your hair and quickly do your makeup and get dressed so you two can pregame a bit before calling the uber and heading to Kate’s. 

About an hour into the party, it's pretty safe to say the two of you were plastered, however, even with the level of drunkenness you were at, you could tell Caitlin was being a lot clingier than usual. She was constantly wanting to be near you, holding your hand, even going as far to have you sit on her lap when all of the seats got taken during a group game sesh. At first you thought that she was so drunk that she was confusing you with your sister. That was until she pulled you out onto the balcony when she wanted some fresh air. 

The two of you just sat in silence, focusing on the trees blowing in the wind and the occasional late drivers passing by. After about ten minutes you felt her place her hand on your thigh. You hated to admit that you felt butterflies in your stomach at all of the little touches of affection she was showing you tonight, but you knew it was wrong and decided to correct her on it before things got too far. 

“Caitlin, this isn’t right, and maybe i'm reading into this too much and you're just too drunk to realize that i'm not Audrey, but this can't happen” you say, sliding her hand off your thigh, breaking the silence.

“I know exactly who you are,” she says, grabbing your hand from off your lap. “You’re the girl who will drop anything to come help me out with something,even when you know you have other things you should be focusing on. The girl who comes to all of my games so that I know I have someone personal there for me because her sister who i'm with refuses to put her disliking for the sport aside to come support me. You’re the girl I'm in love with, and I can't, no I refuse to go another day without telling you.” She rants. “And don't tell me that you don't feel the same because I know you do. I feel the way your heart starts to race every time i hug you. I see how you look away every time your sister and I share some sort of affection. I need you to tell me so that I don’t feel stupid for telling you this right now” she finishes now facing you completely, staring at your eyes desperately waiting for an answer.

You were quiet for a minute, however that felt like hours for the girl standing in front of you. She had just poured her heart out confessing her love to the sister of the girl she was dating. While you sat trying to process what was just said to you, Caitlin was freaking out internally hoping that she didn’t just fuck up her chances of ever speaking to you again. You finally decide to respond to the girl, but it wasn’t what she was expecting to hear as a response. 

“I think we should leave, it’s getting late and my sister is probably waiting for me to get back home.” you say, before walking back into the house to say your goodbyes to everyone and calling an uber back to Caitlins so that you can retrieve your stuff and head back to your place. 

Caitlin stood there in shock, she couldn’t believe that that was all you had to say. She had just let her guard down to tell you how she truly felt about you, and your only concern was the time and your sister sitting at home. She soon walks back into the party to say her goodbyes as well before following you out the door to get into the uber you had ordered a few minutes ago. Her teammates had noticed the change in demeanor between the two of you from when you went outside to when you came back in, but everyone decided it was best not to bring it up at the moment. The ride back to her place was quiet. Caitlin was hoping that you would say something, occasionally looking over at you, but you didn’t. You just stayed quiet, fiddling with your fingers and staring out the window for the whole 15 minute drive.

Once you guys had finally arrived back at her place, you begin getting all of your stuff together, mentally scolding yourself for not telling your true feelings to the girl. You could tell that she was angry at you for it, and it broke your heart, but she's your sister's girlfriend and you would never want to hurt Audrey even if that meant causing hurt to yourself. You finish grabbing all of your stuff and tell Caitlin you're going to head out before she stops you. 

“Look, I know you don't want to be around me right now, but Audrey would never forgive me if I let you drive home knowing that you had been drinking. Just stay the night here and you can leave in the morning, I'll just sleep on the couch.” She says looking everywhere but at you. 

“I’m fine, I promise. I can drive back home, I don't want to intrude.” you say looking down at the floor. 

“You could never intrude, if anything your absence would annoy me more.” she says, grabbing your chin to make you look at her.

Staring into her brown eyes made your heart melt. You were so in love with her and you didn’t want to fight it anymore. Before you could think twice you grab her face, pulling her into a kiss. It caught the girl off guard, but she quickly melted into it, placing her hands onto your waist pulling you in closer. The kiss was what you had been wanting to do for the past five months.  What you didn’t know was that she had been wanting to do it since the first time she laid eyes on you. The two of you eventually pull apart just looking at one another smiling. This felt right.

“Does that mean what I think it means?” she asks with a slight smirk on her lips.

“Yes Clark, that was my way of saying I love you too” you respond rolling your eyes but failing to hide the smile creeping up on your face. “But we have to do this the right way. If you want to be with me, you have to end things with my sister, I don't want to be the other woman.” you say sternly.

She swiftly brings you into a hug and whispers “For you, i'd do anything.”

[queenie-the-court-jester]

𝐥; 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐁𝐥𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐰𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐚𝐜𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐬: masterlist

𝐭𝐰: none, just reader being fruity. Not proofread, sorry for any bad grammar

𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐇𝐎𝐑'𝐒 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄: all characters, including the reader, are 18+. Mdni since this series will include grave topics and nsfw content. Reader is depicted as fem and goes by she/her pronouns

You woke up after a crazy dream of taking a shower and some dude kidnapping you as soon as you stepped out of the bathroom, groggily you sat up as you could faintly hear birds chirping outside the little window next to the bed you were on

wait. A window? Your eyes shot open at the realization, this wasn't your bed. There was no way you would ever be able to afford all the fancy stuff in it. You practically jumped out of the bed, you were wearing only a very fine silk nightgown and bonnet. You walked over to the door, about to open it when it opened itself

A pair of black eyes stared at you, and you stared right back. The elderly man held a tea set in his hands, suddenly breaking the silence

"I see you are awake.. that is good news, im sure you're wondering where you are right now hm? Come nowy dear, let's sit down and talk over this subject over tea"

You hesitantly followed him to the cornet of the room, sitting across from him on the little tea table. He seemed frail and weak, the thought about rocking his shit so you could escape crossed your mind, but you couldn't do that to an old man. It was against your morality

"so.. who are you? Where am I?"

"I am cosmo soleris, the headmaster of this school. You are in my school, one of my students found you unconscious in the woods and brought you here, tell me, do you remember anything?"

"no just.. some guy kidnapped me after I finished showering I think..?"

"I'm terribly sorry this has happened to you.. unfortunately it seems you aren't from our world, so it may take a while for us to find a way for you to return home"

"...what."

He explained to you of different worlds and realm travelling of which you understood nothing of, only that a hole must have opened to their world in the middle of your kidnapping and you must've fell through

"rest assured my dear, we will do everything we can to find this hole and send you back home. In the meantime, you are welcome to stay here until he figure everything out. Oh! Where are my manners.. what is your name?"

"y/n.. y/n l/n.."

"welcome y/n"

he smiled warmly at you, setting down his teacup. Guess you had to stay for a while.. fuck, you already missed your bed

Cosmo offered for you to study at the school meanwhile, he looked for a way to send you back home. At first you thought it would be nice, you were supposed to enter your senior year anyway, and free tuition is always a welcome benefit to dropping into some random ass world. Until your new schedule was dropped off, Cosmo's annoying ass pet bird swooped into your bedroom through a window on the roof. Honking and cawing until you got up.

You shot dirty looks at the bird, rolling your eyes as you grumbled and muttered. Trudging to the tiny bathroom to get ready. After you got out, the bird sat on your bed. Staring at you with it's beady eyes

"what are you even..a chicken? Duck? Cockroach?"

It only cawed at you before hopping onto the floor, walking to the door and waiting for you to open it. You sighed and walked over, making your way down the hall with the bird as your guide

"what did Cosmo call you again? Phee-phee?"

It chirped as if saying "yes"

"Well phee-phee.. guess we're stuck together for a while"

You were so distracted Talking to the ugly ass bird you didn't notice the girl right Infront of you. It was too late since you bumped into her and somehow fell onto her tits

"oh my god shit are you okay-"

"ow.. that hurt.."

You looked up, only to come face to face with the hottest girl you've ever seen. No, literally. She was so hot, scalding actually. You winced as you quickly got off her, helping her get back up

"so you're the new transfer student.. I am Chloe javius Skylar. Pleasure to make your acquaintance."

She did a polite short bow, blonde curls bouncing a bit

"..hey chloe, do you like girls"

"huh."

[urperfectcinnamonroll07]

Can I request a chishiya with a reader who simps for other actresses infront him making him think reader is lesbian or bi (not really but reader is just girl's girl type of person) and later he gets annoyed and confront her??? (you can add smut if you want) i hope that was clear. ITS FINE IF YOU CANT DO IT!! JUST WANTED TO SEE HOW WOULD HE REACT LOL.

Girl's Girl

requested?: yes pairing(s): shuntarō chishiya x afab!reader warnings: smut, acarophilia, oral (f recieving), hair pulling, chishiya being a cocky bastard, mentions or reader being a girls girl, unprotected sex (wrap before you tap), choking, breast play, literally pure filth tbf summary: 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘪, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘢 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭'𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦 𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘴 word count: 2k a/n: i feel like my smut is starting to get better after reading ana huang's twisted series. im on twisted hate and LET ME TELL YOU josh chen UGH. and rhys, and alex. (ava and alex are defo my fav tho). the hyunjin request will be out soon so dw, i js need to figure out how to start it, i have a lot of ideas. make sure to eat and drink something, love yas, mwah!

you and chishiya were sitting watching a movie, as you both do every friday night. another thing you both (only you) do, is hype up the female characters as if you were standing right in front of them. and chishiya was always confused, you were practically crushing on a girl right in front of him.

you would always call them 'gorgeous' or 'stunning' almost as if you were talking about your crush to him. but when you asked chishiya if he agreed and he said yes? you didn't even care, you just smiled and looked back at the screen.

not long later, the movie finished and you both went up to bed as it was getting late. chishiya decided to himself that he would question it tomorrow, and sleep tonight.

        •❦︎•

the next morning, you were up early as the birds outside had woken you up with their singing, plus it was summer, so it was already light out.

so, you decided to try your hardest not to wake chishiya and go downstairs to make pancakes for the both of you. so there you were, busying yourself on the stove, with your headphones on, playing whatever music you decided to put on.

you didn't hear chishiya wake up, but you certainly felt it when he wrapped his arms around your torso and kissed up your neck. you slid your headphones off and paused the music playing.

"morning, chi" you smile at him, you only get a small grunt in response, you giggled.

chishiya moved to let go of you so you could get back to cooking, leaning against the kitchen island.

there was a few minutes of silence before he spoke up, his voice low and gravelly as he had just woken up.

"i've been meaning to ask you" he pauses, you look over your shoulder at him "are you gay? or something. you seem to like all the female actresses that come on the screen while i'm right there. if you are, it's fine, i just was wondering."

you chuckle at his words, flipping a pancake over.

"no, chi. i'm not gay. it's just like, girls support girls, y'know?" you turn to look at him, leaning against the counter behind you.

"so you still like me?" he says, walking over to you and grabbing you by your hips to sit on the kitchen island with him in between your legs.

"yes, of course i do

" you smile down at him, he grabs your neck and pulls you down closer.

"so you still like dick?" he asks lowly, your breath hitches in your throat.

"yes"  you say breathlessly.

“yeah?” he asks almost sarcastically, leaving a light trail of kisses down your neck and collarbone, god bless the tank top and shorts you wore to bed last night to give your boyfriend easier access.

you just manage to nod in response before chishiya has found your weak spot, suckling on it, bound to leave a mark by night. you let out a breathy gasp as he did so, to him, it was music to his ears.

chishiya slowly made his way down your body, pulling your tank top up and over your head, before swiftly reattaching his lips back to your neck. he then pulled his shirt over his head, letting your hands wander all over his chest and neck as he did so.

it didn’t take long for him to kiss his way down your body, until he got to your panties. you wiggled your hips in order to help him get them off, he threw them to the side, god knows where, but you both knew you didn’t care. you looked down at him, and his brown eyes found yours, asking for permission. your lustful eyes was the only answer he needed before he got to work on your cunt, lapping up your juices, letting his tongue run down your slit, before right back up again to your clit, giving it a harsh suck. your hands flew to his hair in response, letting out a lewd moan as you did so. chishiya chuckled at your reaction, and did it again.

he got the same reaction, but this time with you tugging harshly on his blonde locks, throwing your hair back in silent pleasure. you could practically feel the smirk on his face as he practically made out with your sopping cunt. he had to hold your hips down so you don’t buck away from his mouth, it wasn’t like you wanted to. you felt absolute ecstasy as his tongue abused your hole.

When he saw signs of you beginning to get close, he pulled his tongue back and stilled all of his movements, picking you up and carrying you towards the living room. he set you down on the couch so you were in a sitting up position and resumed his previous attack on your pussy, making sure to such your clit extra hard this time, causing you to see stars.

“shiya” you whimpered out, barely able to contain your soft moans and mewls as he continues his assault on your clit.

His tongue flattened against your clit to give you at least a bit of leverage when he delivered a particularly harsh suck.

“shiya, the couch” you moan out, you felt him smirk against you as your pussy juices drip from your hole onto the plush sofa, definitely creating a wet patch.

“i don’t give a damn” he mutters against you, sending the most delicious vibrations through your body, making you jolt in pleasure.

your sofa was quickly forgotten about as you start to reach your high again, widening your legs as your back arches off the back of the sofa, the harsh suck on your clit throwing you over the edge. chishiya kept lapping at your puffy and swollen clit to deliver you down from your high, also managing to lap up your juices as though he was a starved man, lapping up every drop as if you would evaporate if he didn’t hurry.

as soon as you opened your eyes again from your high, you saw chishiya smirking up at you with those cat eyes you loved so much. he wasted no time in getting up and pacing his knee in between your thigh in order to keep your legs open. his lips were back on yours in almost an instant as he pulled his joggers down his hips, covering you completely as he pushed into you. he slid right in as you were so wet, your slick coating your inner thighs.

he waited barely a few seconds before pulling out and leaving just the tip inside of you before thrusting into you with so much force you practically jolted back along with the sofa that clashed with the wall. chishiya pounded into you relentlessly, not slowing down his pace when he hears your mewls from beneath him. his chest completely covered your sight as you wrapped your arm around him and dragged your nails harshly down his back.

it was probably enough to draw small pricks of blood, but chishiya wouldn’t mind, he always enjoyed you scratching at his back, it was your own way of marking him up. you kept going with scratching his back, earning low groans from the man on top of you. you never told him to stop, even though your overstimulated clit was hitting his stomach over and over. you didn’t want him to stop, and he wouldn’t. not unless you said your safe word. 

“only i can make you cum like this, yeah?” he said gruffly, you nodded in response, not trusting yourself to speak with the amount of pleasure you were feeling, he was quick to grab your throat and squeeze tightly, making you squeal.

“yes, shiya. you’re the only one” you moan out before beginning to babble how close you are to your climax. your eyes brimmed with tears as the intense feeling of him hitting your g-spot over and over.

as you babble incoherently, chishiya reaches down to fondle with your breasts, twisting the nipple in between his index finger and thumb, earning mewls from you as you arch your back off the sofa, reaching your peak. chishiya smirked as your eyes shut tightly, your tears spilling over and slipping down your cheeks. he leaned down and kissed where your tears had fallen.

chishiya finished not long after you did. he brought you into his chest, an just as you thought he was done with you, he spun you around and walked you over to the arm of the sofa before bending you over it, his cock never leaving your hole. you moaned out and gripped the arm of the sofa as chishiya began pounding into you again, even harder this time. at the new angle, he was hitting that spot inside of you that had you seeing stars, it was complete ecstasy.

you whimpered and moaned, tears streaming down your face as his cock filled you up in the most delicious way possible. it wasn’t long before chishiya had you standing upright again, his cock thrusting up into you. his hand was still wrapped tightly around your throat, but not so tight that you couldn’t breathe. his other hand travelled down your body from your tit, going all the way back down to your pussy again.

he quickly found your sensitive nub, rubbing fast and harsh circles on it. the overstimulation, plus chishiya pounding into your sweet little pussy from behind, had you feeling close to your second climax of the morning.

chishiya knew you were about to cum as you began to babble again, you didn’t have any idea what you were saying, but you were too drunk on pleasure to care.

“aw, my baby is close again? gonna cum for me again my pretty girl?” he coos in your ear, you could barely respond as one final snap of your boyfriend’s hip sent you tumbling over the edge, yelling out his name as you see nothing but white as your pussy clenches around his cock.

chishiya lets out a low groan as your pussy clamping down on him sends him over the edge with you, his thrusts growing sloppy as he tries to ride the both of you out of your highs.

“c’mon, im sure the neighbours are sick of hearing my name by now” chishiya chuckles, pulling out of you before picking you up bridal style to your bathroom. he ran you a bath and sat you down in it, disappearing briefly as he fixed you a plate of pancakes from when you are done.

you walk downstairs in an oversized shirt, grabbing onto things as you walk down the hallway to your kitchen, seeing your boyfriend in nothing but sweats. his shirt was long gone, and you saw the scratches you left on his back. you felt a small pang of guilt.

“relax, ive had worse happen” he says as he feels your stare burning into his back. he turns around and looks at you, smirking as he sees your wobbly legs. “maybe we should do that more often if i get you to the point you can barley walk, princess” he teases.

“i can walk” you say matter-of-factly.

“oh yeah?” he says cockily, “walk over to me then” he says in a sweet, but demanding voice.

you try your hardest to do so, grabbing onto the kitchen counter as you do so.

“uh uh, hands off the counter sweetheart” he says lowly, you take your hands off the counter and stand there for a couple of seconds before your knees buckle. chishiya grabs you before could fall, catching your shoulders.

you hold onto his forearms as he lifts you back up, guiding you over to the sofa and sitting you down, crouching in front of you.

“i think maybe we should give the neighbours a reminder of my name, princess” he says with a mischievous glint in his eyes as he grabs your thighs and pulls your pussy back towards his face “what d’you think?”  

[jamiepaige]

Constant Companions Closeup #10: MY DARLING, MY COMPANION

(also on spotify!)

It's the Constant Companions Closeups! A series of in-depth dives into the songs off of my latest album, Constant Companions! Last time, we talked about gender with Object of Affection! Today, we've made it to the title track (kinda?)! My Darling, My Companion! Do you think she's figured out what she wants to hear yet

---

Every time I first embark on the process of making another album, I always think I know what the final product will look like. This is a fairly recent phenomenon, born of the part of me that thinks that planning things out and being somewhat disciplined in the act of creation will ultimately lead to a better final product. That's fair and all, but it's also genuinely never how things actually shake out, as I almost always toss that out the window and just start writing shit the first chance I get.

Constant Companions, however, is the closest I've gotten to actually following through on those initial ambitions. Well, maybe not the initial ambitions - without fail, every time I finish an album, there's a two week period where I start writing new material thinking "this next album's gonna be the MOODY one" and it's never the moody one - but rather the plan I developed once my pile of works-in-progress started looking album-shaped.

There's always been some amount of self-referential leitmotif-loving song-series energy in what I've written - Imaginary, Effervescent and Secret Girlfriend; sampling myself on Too Much Autotune or Second Hello; that little four note motif. I had been leaning even further into it with People Posture Play Pretend and 🤼‍♀️, bringing the little interconnected background radiation straight to the forefront, and I wanted to keep going.

So, I would take that mindset and write about motifs - the things that have stuck with me and gotten me to where I am - the hopes that I've clung to, the dreams I want to make real, the patterns that I keep finding myself in. The things that haunt me and the things that keep me living.

...

My constant companions, if you will.

wait didn't i already do that bit. what was i talking about when i did that

This might be incredibly obvious if you've already read the Closeup for Breeze Blows, but yes, this is another song about being plural.

Like I said previously, writing these self-directed songs portraying internal conversations has been a very big part of finding peace within myself. Having to confront a part of myself both alien and overly familiar with seemingly a mind of her own is, understandably, scary as shit in countless ways! If nothing else, it feels like sometimes I can't even talk about it out loud without sounding completely gone.

But it's made me realize and really think about something I think most people take for granted, something that feels silly to even say out loud given how obvious it is but that has completely changed my relationship with myself - you are always a part of your own life.

The overwhelming, ceaseless negative self-talk I lived with for however many years never went away because it was a part of me, and no amount of compartmentalizing or boxing-up or repression or anything helped even in the slightest compared to the act of showing her kindness and patience, letting her be a genuine part of me, being a friend to her. Doing so revealed to me a happier, more hopeful part of myself I thought I'd lost forever.

Letting yourself be yourself, and loving yourself for who you are, is the best way to be!

or something. that feels so fucking dr seuss of me to say whatever we're corny here we will Be corny

---

The working title of this song was "Hathaway", inspired entirely by my friend Lexie messaging me one morning about a dream in which I had released a song named as such. Naming and writing songs based on dreams is maybe my most beloved bit at this point, but my girlfriend ultimately convinced me to make the title My Darling, My Companion. Mostly because she (correctly) thought it'd be cooler than just a pure title track.

The verses were written by sampling my own previous demo for a title track, turning it into a call-and-response between me and GUMI, and the chorus was lifted almost word-for-word from another demo of mine using Teto. That second demo was partially inspired by the character Morgan from the visual novel Heart of the Woods - which I mostly bring up because it's just a really good yuri VN that is near and dear to my heart. And also because my friend Teffi voices the character Tara in said VN. And also because I recorded my vocals for this song at her house. And also because the voice that says "me when I'm goated as fuck" right before the second verse is in fact Teffi in the recording booth with me. Yuri runs deep in my veins.

Speaking of which, this song, in my mind, is one dedicated to advancing my agenda of GUMI x Teto, albeit subtly and in a roundabout way.

See, GUMI has always been something of an idealized voice in my other work. The songs of mine she sings historically have always been hopeful, upbeat, expressing some sense of comfort - I Wish That I Could Fall maybe being the only exception, and even then still offering some hope in the end.

On the flipside, there's a part in verse two where my voice is swapped out for Teto for a couple lines. I couldn't really tell you what it is, since it's not in terms of timbre or range, but Kasane Teto - her Synth V voicebank especially, but really all iterations of her - is the vocal synth that feels the most like a stand-in for my own voice. And really, writing with her almost seems to bring out parts of myself that are a bit too honest.

These two juxtaposed against each other made perfect sense. It helps that they have The Color Scheme, too.

Finally, this song is basically just one big reference to my song Destiny, from back in 2018, and it even closes out with lyrics based very directly on its closing refrain. I don't have much else to say on that front - but there's another Jamie Paige song this bears some shared DNA with, and a blatant reference to it is hidden in plain sight right as the bridge transitions to the outro.

Do you know what it is?

That's the post! If you have any questions, feel free to send them my way - I'm planning on doing a big AMA style bonus post after the album's finished!!

Speaking of which, tomorrow, we'll be talking about the eleventh and final track on the album - a simple little song about a computer falling in love... :~)

[anxi-aashi]

SJCKEBCEJGNF I LOVE YOUR WRITING BABES! Honestly your pirate series and giving childe a bj was hot omg- Can I request like Husband! Childe x Wife! Reader? Like childe wants a another kid or smth even thought they have so many XD and just you know breeding reader or smth- Ajfjehfjrjff anyways you're amazing!!!!! love you :>>>> <33333

a/n: TYSM this took me absolutely way too long to finish BUT im officially on spring break now so hopefully I'll be able to write some more again!

cw: breeding (with intent), praise, fem!reader, fingering, kids (derogatory), not proofread, lmk if I forgot anything!

At last, your crotch goblins were asleep.

It felt like years had passed just trying to get them to settle down after dinner, much less convince them to get into bed; your youngest spent about fifteen minutes arguing with his dad in the bathroom before finally brushing his teeth.

And yet, as you and your husband wandered past the doorways of all five of your kids, watching them sleep without a care in the world, you felt a sort of contentness fill your chest knowing you’d probably have to do it all over again the next night.

While watching your third shift in her sleep, drooling, Childe joined you, resting his head atop yours and rubbing a palm on your arm soothingly. “Phew! That took forever,” he remarked in a whisper.

You snickered along with him and turned to meet his eyes. “You’re pooped, too? Thought you were all about the thrill of danger.”

He snorted softly. “Right, nothing more dangerous than five gremlins who napped a little too long after lunch.” His gaze slipped to your third behind you, now passed out flat on her stomach, and pressed a kiss to the side of your head. “Let’s follow their lead tonight, hm?”

With that, he led you to the room you both shared. The two of you went about your nightly routines in comfortable silence, you brushing your teeth while Childe picked out something for the two of you to watch together before bed. Or at least, you thought he was.

Childe was not doing that. Instead, he watched you, his wife. Wife. It still hit him every now and then that you were his, no matter how long you two had been married. What did you see in him that made you say yes when he proposed? When he first asked you out? He’d probably never know.

He knew what he saw in you, though. And somewhere in that long list of qualities (that he had written on his phone), was your pussy.

The same pussy that birthed his five kids. The same one that got so wet every time he whispered something filthy in your ear. That hugged his dick so perfectly.

Fuck, he was hard. And you were none the wiser, simply rinsing the toothpaste from your mouth like normal. 

Childe’s eyes trailed down to your ass as you bent over the sink. Down your legs, up to your stomach covered with the fabric from your fitted tank top. He pictured it— remembered it— stretched out and swollen, round with his kid growing inside. You had looked so good pregnant. Every time. 

And suddenly, he really wanted to see you pregnant again. 

Hands snaked around your waist as you washed your face, drawing your attention to the mirror in front of you. “Hm, what’s up?” you asked his reflection.

Childe remained silent, opting to take his time feeling you up instead. His hands idly roamed around your stomach, grazing the sides of your breasts, leaving tingles of goosebumps in their wake, until finally landing on your hips and pulling you flush against him.

A squeak of surprise escaped you, a question close behind, but the motives behind his behavior became clear when you noticed his hard-on nestled snugly between your ass cheeks. “Ajax! You can’t wait five minutes for me to finish here?”

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” he mused, ignoring your protest.

You bent over to rinse the soap from your face. “‘A while?’ Did you already forget how you practically jumped me the other day after the kids went to school?”

“I mean since we had one.”

You paused at his clarification, standing up straight to meet his eyes through the mirror. 

He had that look in his eye— one you had seen many times before. Five times, to be exact. Childe smoothed his hands over your hips, the pressure combined with the dull throbbing of his cock against your ass making you dizzy. “You always look so beautiful carrying my baby. Let me give you another one?” 

You forced yourself to think around the growing arousal simmering in your blood. “You want another baby or you just want to get me knocked up again? Pretty important difference, there.”

His grin was devious as one of his hands migrated to slide into your panties. “I think six is a much better number than five, don’t you think?” A finger grazed your slick folds. Childe’s grin only grew wider. “Kinda feels like you agree with me.”

You tilted your head to lean against his shoulder, relishing in the sensations of his fingers teasing your sex. “Please,” you breathed.

That was all he needed to hear. Ever the gentleman, your husband transported you swiftly to the bed, wasting no time pulling your sleep shorts and underwear down your legs while you rid yourself of your top. Your hands tangled themselves in his hair to pull his face to yours, lips meeting in a messy kiss. 

Childe ground his hips into yours, sending waves of heat pulsing through your limbs and encouraging more slick to seep from your cunt. He moaned into your mouth, the kiss becoming sloppy as impatience and need had you panting rather than meeting his lips. You were hot, so hot, desperate for any sort of attention that would soothe the steady ache building in your core, that when he finally dipped a finger into your drooling cunt, a loud moan ripped from your throat.

A hand slapped over your mouth, muffling any further sounds you made. Childe panted down at you, panic and lust etched into his face. “Shh, baby,” he whispered, “Don’t want to wake the little ones up, do we?”

You shook your head, pleading to him with your eyes to keep fingering you.

“Good girl.” His finger slowly pulled out of you, only to sink back in up to the knuckle; again, again— another finger joined— again, again, until the steady pace he set had your pussy singing his praises in lewd squelches. 

Grateful as you were for the stimulation, it wasn’t enough. You brought up a hand on top of his that covered your mouth, lifting it up just enough to gasp, “Please, please, want you inside me, wan’ you to fill me up.”

The dark chuckle Childe let out was almost patronizing. “Aw, my fingers aren’t enough for you? So impatient tonight,” he cooed, curling his fingers up to tease your g-spot before pulling them out. 

“Don't worry, I’ll fill you up soon.”

And soon came faster than you expected. This time, you’re thankful that Childe’s hand was still so close to your mouth, otherwise the whine that you let out would’ve had you answering some very concerned questions from your kids. His cock sunk into you with ease and without warning, and you were suddenly reminded of how whole you felt when he gave you the piece you were missing. A shudder rippled through your body as he rolled his hips into yours, rutting with a need that you could tell was out of his control. 

But just as it was starting to feel good, he paused, moving his hands to grip the back of your thighs to fold you into a mating press before you could complain at the loss of movement.

With your cunt bared open to him in the new position, the tip of his cock kissed your cervix with ease, grazing by the gummy spot hidden within your walls with every pass. Childe hissed in a breath when he felt you squeeze around him, hips stuttering into a steady pace that gave you no room to breathe. 

The room was getting hot. Or maybe that was you? Childe always did have the nasty habit of fucking you out of your head, and now that he had a purpose in mind, you had a feeling you were going to be walking a little funny the next day.

Every slam of his cock sent your knees knocking into the mattress beside your head. Every slap of his balls against your ass as he filled you to the hilt with every thrust had your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Every filthy thing your husband uttered without shame triggered another wave of slick to coat his cock, making it all the more easy for him to fuck you however he wanted. 

“Can’t wait to get you pregnant again,” he panted. “I hope it's a girl— your tits always look so— hah— so much bigger with a girl.” The bed was creaking. “We’re gonna get it right on the first try, ‘kay? Not wasting time with a negative test. ‘M just gonna have to fill you enough tonight so that it takes. And you—” A hand of his left your thigh to swipe vigorously over your swollen clit. Your back arched, mouth dropping open with a whine. “--- You, are gonna cum as many times as you want. Got it, sweetheart?”

“A-jax,” you whimpered. “I— gonna—”

“Ohh, already?” he crooned. “Go ahead, cum on my cock. Want you to feel good while I knock you up.”

Your first orgasm of the night ripped through you, the coil in your stomach snapping. This time it was you who covered your mouth the block the gutteral moan that threatened to make itself heard. The walls of your pussy clamped down on Childe, a small squeak accompanying the juices that spurted around his dick as he worked you through your high. 

“Fuuuck, yes, just like that. So good, mmmh.” A bright flush glowed from under his pale skin, covering his face and sweat-soaked chest. His thumb stopped its assault on your clit to catch a dribble of your cum that slid down your ass. 

You were almost a little disappointed when he didn’t offer it to you for a taste, but the sight of him licking it clean was more than enough to make it up. And enough of a distraction from the steadily building overstimulation of Childe’s cock still, albeit slowly, rocking into you. 

A tear slid down your cheek, prompting Childe to lean over you to lick it up as well. He propped himself up by your head, his tongue dragged lightly across your cheekbone, then followed up with a multitude of kisses around your face. He finally reached your lips, rewarding you with a languid kiss, rimmed with the tang you recognized from your cum. 

Against your lips, Childe continued to mumble praises in between sloppy kisses, each sentence egging him on to chase his release. “You taste so good.” His warm breath graced your mouth as he spoke. He was too close, too warm, you were too warm, the heat radiating off the both of you so palpable you swear you could touch it. And it was his fault. “I wish you could see yourself right now. So fucking beautiful. Mother of my kids.” A hand of his drifted down to palm your tummy, pressing down until you could both feel his dick rearranging your guts beneath your skin. “Feel me here? That’s where I’m gonna cum. Gonna fill you up so much it’ll be dripping out of you and I’ll just have to fuck it back in.”

You yelped as he buried his head into the crook of your neck to better focus on drilling his cock into your g-spot. “Ajax!”

“Fuck, yes, say my name. Say my name. Who’s pussy is this?”

“Yours, Ajax, it’s yours! ‘S your pussy— please cum, please, please,” you sobbed. 

“‘M almost there, almost— ” he cut himself off with a groan. His thrusts turned sloppy, steady pounding shifting to erratic jackhammering before his hips stuttered, and he pushed himself to the hilt again before spilling his load into you. 

You sighed in bliss, basking in the warmth settled in your belly. As Childe caught his breath, he picked his head up to look at you quizzically. 

“You didn’t cum again.”

You shook your head with a raspy laugh. “It's ok.”

Inside your cunt, you felt his cock twitch. He arched an eyebrow at you. “You’re right, it is. You’ll cum again soon anyways.” Childe slid out of you, making you whine at the loss before wrapping an arm around your waist and carrying you with him as he sat up, plopping you in his lap. 

“Because I’m nowhere near done with you.”

[sporesmoldandfungi]

roll with me - marty mcfly x reader

A/N : yes i know my tumblr is mainly ghostbusters related things but im in a bttf phase rn and there's not enough marty mcfly works. i will probably make this a series until i run out of gas lol. ignore any grammar and spelling errors, i typed this at two am last night :))))) enjoy!!

"God damn it, McFly..." she muttered under her breath, seeing her grandfather's house in a complete mess. It looked like a tornado had flown through the already messy and cluttered home. Walking over pieces of broken metal and random items cluttering the floor, she reached the workbench. On top of it, lay a note in messy handwriting.

Sorry about the mess, I couldn't resist trying the new amp. Promise I'll come by sometime to make it up to you. See you tonight.

-Marty

She crumpled the note and threw it over her shoulder to join the rest of the mess. She couldn't for the life of her understand why her grandfather, a brilliant albeit cooky scientist, chose to keep Marty McFly as company.

Sure, he was funny, kind, sometimes charming, and was nothing but good to Doc, but Y/N still didn't understand what he saw in Marty. He wasn't as smart as her. He was careless. He didn't even have a real interest in science. The better question would be, why did Marty McFly hang around Doc Brown?

Their relationship often crossed her mind, seeing as she often had to fight Marty for her grandfather's attention, and it was also downright strange. Nevertheless, she had to get used to Marty, it was obvious he wasn't going anywhere.

Y/N tinkered on the leftover gadgets Doc had entrusted her with to finish while he was gone. She looked at the many clocks that littered the walls.

4:25

"Four o'clock. Okay, Brown, you've got..." She stopped to look at her wristwatch. "About nine hours to get this place back together for Pop."

She picked up the broom and began sweeping up piles of the broken amplifier. As she cleaned the destroyed living room, her thoughts kept going back to Marty. For all the good qualities he had, he sure was selfish. 'I'll make it up to you sometime.' my ass.

It took her until nightfall to finish cleaning the house, including the rotting dog food her grandfather left in Einstein's bowl. She made herself a quick meal and plopped in front of the TV, catching the last few stories from the ten o'clock news.

She eventually dozed off, the TV still playing in the background. Just before she was about to drift into a deep sleep, she heard the backdoor creak open then close quietly. She opened up one eye to see Marty tiptoeing through the room.

"Hey, McFly." Y/N said, yawning and sitting up.

He jumped at the sound of her voice, turning around to see her rubbing her eyes. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand awkwardly. "Hey, Y/N. You picked up the place pretty quickly."

She rolled her eyes, "Yeah, thanks for that mess by the way, it was a great way to start my weekend. What are you doing here anyways? I thought I was meeting you at the Twin Pines Mall?"

"Doc asked me to pick up the camera on my way there. Probably a good thing I stopped by, from the looks of it, you were about to go into a coma." He smirked.

"Shut up." She muttered.

As Marty looked for the camera, she threw her acid wash jacket on and began lacing up her high tops. By the time she started grabbing her scooter from the spare closet, he had found the camera and was carrying it triumphantly.

He slung it around his shoulder, following Y/N out the door. She mounted the scooter, waiting for Marty to grab his skateboard. He looked her up and down and chuckled.

She frowned, "What's so funny, McFly?"

"When are you finally gonna let me teach you to ride in style, Y/N? You look like a kindergartener on that thing."

"You talk a big game. Are you forgetting I beat you almost every time we race?" She smirked.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah." He mocked. Marty got situated, ready to take off. "Come on, Y/N, no more kid stuff or we're gonna be late."

She smirked, "What's wrong McFly? Chicken?"

She saw him freeze and turn around slowly. "What did you call me?"

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest, keeping the scooter upright by balancing it between her knees. "You heard me."

Marty approached her angrily, waving a finger in her face. "No one calls me chicken, Brown, nobody."

Their noses were almost touching as he stared down at her. She looked up at him, internally flustered, externally smug. "We'll see about that."

In a flash, she took off towards the mall, leaving Marty speechless in the dust. He quickly got back on his skateboard, hurrying to catch up with her. Marty could see Y/N's head thrown back, laughing to herself as she rode ahead. Although he was pissed, he couldn't help but smile to himself at the sight of her. He had been trying for as long as he knew her, to be her friend. While her grandfather, Doc Brown, was one of the friendliest people he had ever met, his granddaughter, Y/N was as stubborn as a mule. She never flashed her charming smile his way unless it was at his expense. They had a lot in common. Their uncommon modes of transportation, their love of rock n' roll, their love of Doc. Yet, there she stood, relishing in his humility.

They continued the race all the way up to the mall. Although Marty had tried to catch up, the head start Y/N got proved to be just enough for her to win. He kicked up the skateboard, sticking it under his armpit and jogging towards Doc and Y/N, who was already talking excitedly with him.

Doc heard the footsteps and turned to face him, his face lighting up at the sight of the boy. "Marty! You made it! Did you bring the camera?"

Marty checked to see if it was still slung around his shoulder, it was. "Yeah, yeah. Where have you been the past week, Doc?"

"I've been working on something big, Marty, something very big. I've been waiting thirty years for this day." Doc said, walking around the large truck parked beside them. Y/N and Marty followed behind, seeing Einstein as they turned the corner. They both pet him as they continued to follow Doc. The three of them stopped in front of the parked DeLorean.

Doc and Y/N smiled at the sight of it, while Marty looked confused. "A DeLorean?"

"All of your questions will be answered soon, Marty. Roll the tape. Y/N, make sure he's getting all of this." Doc instructed, standing by the DeLorean.

They both nodded. Marty held up the camera, beginning to record while Y/N watched.

Doc cleared his throat before speaking. "Good evening. I'm Dr. Emmett Brown. I'm standing on the parking lot at Twin Pines Mall. It's Saturday morning, October 26, 1985, 1:18 a.m., and this is temporal experiment number one." He paused for a moment, then turned his attention to Einstein. "Come on, Einie. Hey, hey, boy, get in there."

Doc opened the door to the driver's seat, helping the dog into the front seat. "That a boy! In you go. Sit down. Put your seat belt on. That's it." He instructed, getting the obedient dog situated.

The confusion on Marty's face grew as he looked on. Doc leaned down to hold up his watch as well as the one hanging around Einstein's neck. Doc held it up towards the camera. Y/N nudged Marty, motioning for him to zoom in on the clocks.

"Please note that Einstein's clock is in precise synchronization with my control watch." Doc put the watches down and double checked that Marty was getting all of this.

Marty gave him a thumbs up and Doc began closing the door, then joining the two in front of the car. He pulled out a remote control from his pocket and began pushing the joysticks forward. Marty looked at it and asked, "You got that thing hooked up to the car?"

Y/N rolled her eyes, "No shit, Sherlock."

The DeLorean began to rumble with the sound of the engine. Marty was still focused on the remote.

Doc smiled, pushing the joysticks forward, "Watch this." The DeLorean began to move, but Marty was still distracted. Y/N rolled her eyes again and grabbed the camera, moving it to focus on the car. The DeLorean turned sharply and lined up in front of the three, albeit from all the way across the lot. Doc looked at the two teens, smirking. "If my calculations are correct, when this baby hits 88 miles per hour, you're gonna see some serious shit."

The tires screeched loudly before accelerating quickly towards the group. As the car got closer, Marty tried moving away before the car reached them, Doc and Y/N both pulled him back. He looked at the two, seeing that they both had the same crazy, wild-eyed expression on their faces. His attention was quickly drawn back to the fast-approaching car. Just as the car was about to hit them, a bright light flashed and the car disappeared, leaving only behind two trails of fires where the wheels would be. The three of them turned around, looking at the empty lot behind them. Doc and Y/N began cheering, jumping up and down and running in circles. Marty, still confused, stared on.

He heard the two talking to each other, breaking his prior concentration. He quickly approached them, "Jesus Christ, Doc! You disintegrated Einstein!"

Doc turned to the confused and frightened teen. "Calm down, Marty. I didn't disintegrate anything. The molecular structure of the car and Einstein are completely intact!"

"Then where the hell are they!?" He screamed, pacing.

"Not where, McFly, when." Y/N smirked.

"You see, Einstein has just become the world's first time traveler. I sent him into the future. One minute into the future, to be exact. At precisely 1:21 a.m. and zero seconds, we shall catch up with him and the time machine." Doc explained, the joy still spread on his face.

"Wait a minute. Wait a minute, Doc. Are you trying to tell me that you built a time machine out of a DeLorean?" Marty asked, not believing what he was hearing.

"The way I see it, if you're going to build a time machine into a car, why not do it with some style? Besides, the stainless-steel construction made the flux dispersal..." Doc started, but the beeping of his watch interrupted him. He quickly grabbed Marty, "Watch out!"

Marty instinctively grabbed ahold of Y/N pulling her away along with him, just as the DeLorean came speeding back into the parking lot. The car was covered in ice, steam protruding off of it. As Doc ran to the car, ready to open the door, Mary and Y/N stood back. They both looked down at their interlaced fingers and blushed. Y/N was the first to let go, shaking her hand slightly as she walked towards Doc and the car.

After seeing that Einstein was okay and intact, Marty finished filming the last bits of the dog's short journey through time, how the machine worked, and Doc reliving the day he first came up with the idea of time travel before Doc ushered him and Y/N away to put on radiation suits. They entered the large van and began suiting up. The air was thick with a tension that was unknown to either one of them. Marty was the first to attempt to break the silence.

"So, uh, you knew about this time travel thing, and you didn't tell me?"

She scoffed, "Why would I tell you, McFly?"

He zipped up the suit, walking over to her. "You can't just ignore it, Y/N."

She was looking down, putting her legs into the suit. "Ignore what?"

"Me. Us."

She looked up, seeing the seriousness in his face. "What do you mean us?"

"You mean to tell me you didn't feel what I felt back there?" he asked.

She stood up, sliding the rest of the suit on. "Excitement? I mean who wouldn't be when they witnessed time travel? It's not something you see every day, McFly."

"Goddamn it, Y/N. I'm being serious." Marty said, running his hand through his hair.

"So am I, you aren't very direct when you speak." She said, beginning to walk away.

He groaned and grabbed her by the waist pulling her close to him. Her eyes widened and she looked up at him with the same doe-eyed expression that she had when their hands were intertwined. Still holding her to his chest, he took one hand and pointed at her face. "That, that face. It tells me that you feel the same way I do whenever we touch."

She let herself be held by him, before snapping back into reality and pushing herself off. She walked towards the door, opening it. "Come on, Doc's probably wondering what's taking so long."

Marty watched as she left, thinking to himself, "Why does she have to be so goddamn stubborn?"

He joined them outside, listening to the tail end of their conversation. "... so, I took their Plutonium, and I gave them a shoddy bomb casing full of used pinball machine parts!"

"Pop... that's really dangerous, are you sure it's under control?" Y/N asked, concern lacing her face.

Doc waved off her words, "Never mind that, Marty, get that camera ready. Y/N, grab my luggage from the truck and bring it here. " The teens followed Doc's instructions as he took his seat in the driver's seat. Y/N finally joined Marty's side, who was already filming Doc.

"I, Dr. Emmett Brown, am about to embark on an historic journey." Doc began but stopped and chuckled to himself. "What am I thinking of? I almost forgot to bring extra plutonium. How did I ever expect to get back? One pellet, one trip. I must be out of my mind." He stood up, walking over to his equipment, but stopped when he heard Einstein barking. Doc walked over to the barking creature, "What is it Einie?" His face then drained of all color, and he looked on in horror.

Marty and Y/N shared a worried glance before joining him at his side.

Doc began to speak, still looking ahead in horror. "They found me, I don't know how, but they found me."

Marty and Y/N followed his stare and saw a small, green van suddenly turn its headlights on as it drove towards them. Einstein quickly ran into the safety of Doc's equipment van. The three of them could make out the figure of a man standing out of the sunroof. Doc turned to the two and quickly pushed them away.

"Run for it!" He cried.

Marty quickly grabbed Y/N's hand and ran back towards the DeLorean. She gripped his hand tightly as they looked at Doc as the headlight shone brighter and brighter on him. They watched as he raised his hands in surrender. The car screeched to a stop, and they saw the man in the sunroof aim a large gun at Doc. Y/N started to run towards her grandfather, but the man had already opened fire on Doc. She screamed and fell to her knees.

Marty stood behind her, tears filing his eyes. He screamed out, "No! You bastards!"

The man's attention was now on the mourning pair. Marty watched as the man began to aim his gun at Y/N's head as she crawled towards Doc's lifeless body. Marty ran forward, tackling her and moving her out of the way as bullets ricocheted off the pavement next to them. He shielded her body with his own. They both braced for the impact of the bullets but heard the gun clicking instead. Marty lifted his head to see the gunman struggling with the weapon. He quickly pulled Y/N up and led her toward the idle DeLorean. He threw open the passenger's door, practically tossing the mourning Y/N into the seat. He followed suit, hopping into the driver's seat. Marty quickly turned on the ignition and sped away from the men who from the looks of it, finally got their weapon back in working order.

The bullets were heard on either side of the vehicle, just barely missing it. Y/N screamed as Marty continued to drive as fast as he could. The Libyan's van grew closer and closer as Marty frantically tried to drive out of the mall's parking lot. The DeLorean shook as the Libyan's van hit the back bumper.

Marty looked down at the speedometer, "Let's see if you bastards can do 90."

Y/N's eyes widened, "No!"

He looked at her confused then back at the rapidly increasing speed. He watched as it climbed closer and closer to 90. "What's the problem? You want to end up like Doc? Or do you wanna get the hell out of here?"

"McFly, do you remember what happens when the car hits 88 miles an hour?" She asked, watching as the speedometer reached top speeds.

Marty's eyes widened in fear, realizing what was about to happen. Before he could step on the brakes, the car lit up with blinding, blue light. The light temporarily blinded both of them as the car went back to driving in complete darkness. As Marty's vision adjusted back to normal, his eyes widened as the DeLorean hit a pine tree.

"Look out!" Y/N shouted as they drove towards a lone barn in the distance.

Marty tried to get the car to turn, but it was too late, the DeLorean hurled through the side of the bar, crash-landing in a pile of hay. They both groaned at the impact. Marty began undoing his seatbelt, once free, he turned his attention to the girl next to him. "Are you okay?"

She nodded, her eyes not meeting his. She was fixated on something in front of them. Marty followed her gaze and saw a light coming from one of the barn doors. He turned to Y/N, "Stay here, I'm gonna check this out."

He opened the driver's door, bumping his head as he exited, making his radiation helmet fly over his head. From inside the helmet, he could make out the silhouettes of two adults and two children. He was also able to make out the sound of their frightened screams, no doubt afraid that Marty was an intruder. He raised his hands up in defense, trying to calm them down. As he stepped through the large hay pile towards the family, he saw one of the adults raise what looked like a shotgun up at him.

"Shit!" he cried, flinging himself back in the car.

As the figure fired the first shot, Marty had already driven back out of the barn and away from the family. He found a road and sharply turned on it, still speeding away.

"Okay, McFly. Get a grip on yourself, this is all a dream. It's just a very intense dream." Marty said to himself as he drove. He turned to face Y/N who looked as frantic and confused as he was. "This has to be a dream, right?"

Before she could respond, her eyes widened, and she quickly reached for the steering wheel. Marty looked ahead and saw the approaching vehicle she was trying to avoid. She turned it sharply, making them swerve to the side. Marty slammed on the brakes before they made an impact with the car. They were both panting, having just escaped death three times in five minutes.

Marty and Y/N both stepped out of the vehicle, approaching the black car in front of them. They walked to the driver's side window, seeing an older couple in the front seats. They both looked frightened at the sight of the two strangely dressed teens. Marty leaned his head down, to talk to the man driving.

"Hey, listen, you got to help us," Marty said to the man, but his wife was urging him to drive away. The old man took one glance at Marty and Y/N before hitting the gas and speeding away from them.

Marty groaned, walking back towards Y/N. She was leaning against the hood of the DeLorean, staring ahead. "Y/N?" he asked, trying to get her attention, but she continued to stare. He groaned again and placed his hands on her shoulders, slightly shaking her. "Y/N, you got to help out here. Where the hell are we?"

Y/N finally met his gaze. His eyes were wide and full of confusion. He had sweat forming in the base of his hair, starting to travel down the sides of his face. He looked at her with so much emotion, hoping she could somehow make this all go away. She gently removed his hands from her shoulder and spun him to face what she was looking at. She pointed ahead, "Does that give you a hint?"

Marty followed her finger to see the entrance to his neighborhood. Only there was no neighborhood, no houses, no streets. Just the two pieces of stone that read Lyon Estates. He looked to the side and saw a billboard advertising the neighborhood that was still not built. His eyes widened once more, realizing the gravity of their situation.

"It can't be." He whispered.

Y/N walked back towards the passenger seat, starting to take off her radiation suit. Marty stared ahead for only a moment before opening the driver's door. He sat down beside her, attempting to turn the car back on.

"Don't even bother." Y/N said, making Marty stop his actions and look at her. "It won't work. Remember what Doc said, it needs Plutonium to run. One pellet, one trip."

"So, are you trying to tell me we're stuck here? Wherever the hell this is." Marty asked.

She stood up, stepping out of the suit, tossing it in the car. She ignored his question, instead saying, "Come on, help me push it behind that billboard. We got to go into town, so I can figure out a way for us to get out of here."

Y/N slammed the door shut, making Marty jump. He quickly threw off his radiation suit and joined Y/N at the back of the car. They pushed it off the road and into the field, rolling it behind the large billboard for Lyon Estates. Y/N wiped her hands on her jeans before walking back onto the road, making Marty follow suit. They both began walking to where the black car had driven off. Neither of them said a word to each other, both too caught up in their thoughts to speak. Marty looked up to see a road sign that read,

Hill Valley: 2 Miles

"This is heavy."

[thelov3lybookworm]

Mine? Epilogue

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Summary: her heart is so full.

•○●⛦●○•

Word Count: 975

A/n: we are done with this series... I CANT BELIEVE IT OMG WERE DONE WITH IT 😭

THANK YOU TO YOU ALL FOR COLLOWING THIS SERIES EVEN THOUGH IT TOOK ME MONTHS TO FINISH IT ASJHAJDHDF 😭 ILY ALL SO MUCH ILY ILYY

im so happy heheh 🥹

anyways, enjoy!🥹❣️

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

"Mommyyy."

Y/n sighed, bowing her head and rubbing her eyes, water dripping from her fingers. She had only just gotten into the bath and Adelaide already missed her?

"Yes my love?" she called out.

"Where are you?"

"In the bath, baby."

Adelaide’s response was only the soft pitter patter of her feet as she ran into the bathroom, the door unlocked because Y/n knew her little girl loved following her around and if she had locked the door, it would have resulted in a tiny tantrum.

"Mommy, where is daddy?"

Adelaide had returned from school half an hour earlier, the car ride back home filled with her babbling about everything that had happened that day. Y/n had no choice but to nod along like she understood it all, while half the stuff she could not even make sense of.

It made her wonder if she even knew english.

Y/n raised her brows at her five year old. She only just remembered that her daddy was not home?

"Baby, daddy had some work. He will be returning soon."

Adelaide pouted, leaning against the tub and swirling her finger through the milky water.

"I miss him."

Y/n nodded solemnly. "Do you want me to call him?"

Adelaide’s eyes lit up. "Yes momma! Please."

Y/n wiped her hand on a nearby towel and picked up her phone to dial up her husband’s number.

"Hello?"

Y/n had the call on speaker phone, so before she could respond, Adelaide did.

"Daddy! Where are you?"

Y/n could hear the smile in Grayson’s voice. "I’m just parking the car sweetheart. Come greet me?"

Adelaide only giggled and ran off, leaving the bathroom door open. Y/n sighed again, shaking her head.

Adelaide was a daddy’s girl through and through. And he was just as smitten by her as she was him.

Y/n would never want it any other way.

"You there, love?"

Y/n blinked, turning her attention to her phone. "Yes."

He paused for a moment. "I forgot what I was supposed to say." he exhaled a frustrated breath, prompting Y/n to giggle.

From the other end, Y/n heard Adelaide’s voice squeaking and squealing and smiled, deciding to end the call. Her husband would soon be coming to say hi anyway.

My husband.

Despite being married for four years already, the thought made her blush every time.

The two had gotten married almost a year after he had proposed. It took the two almost twelve months to convince Liam and her father that Grayson actually loved Y/n. Y/n’s mother, despite being disappointed in Grayson, had forgiven him quickly.

Maybe she saw the way Grayson looked at Y/n, or maybe it was her mother’s heart that only wanted happiness for her daughter. Whatever it was, she had accepted the two’s engagement within the first month. It was the men of the house who still held a grudge.

Y/n’s father and brother would constantly poke at Grayson, at times borderline bully the poor man. But Gray did not budge on his decision to marry her, even knowing that there was a chance that her family would never accept him and always hold animosity towards his very existence.

And that very determination of his to stay with Y/n swayed her father and brother, and while they still weren’t too friendly with him still, things were constantly getting better.

"Mommy’s in there." Y/n heard just a moment before Grayson appeared in the doorway, Adelaide in his arms.

His brows rose the tiniest fraction when he realised Y/n was in the tub. "Well, hello mama. How are you?"

Y/n shook her head, suppressing her smile at the way he shot her a suggestive smirk. "Good."

Adelaide squirmed in Grayson’s arm before he could say anything else, attention already drifting.

"Daddy, I drew you in school today. Let me show you."

She was gone then, leaving Y/n with her husband, who’s lips spread in a flirtier smirk.

He walked closer to her, leaning in while eyeing her shoulders. Y/n could already see the gears in his head turning, already thinking of ways to persuade Y/n to let him join. He began leaning in when she splashed some water on him, making him jerk away.

"Y/n! What was that for?"

She giggled, leaning back in the tub, shaking away the few tendrils of hair that had escaped her bun. "Just felt like it."

He scowled at her, then before Y/n knew what was happening, he began tickling her.

Well, I didn’t think about the consequences.

"Gray- Grayson stoop."

He finally relented after a long moment of making Y/n laugh hysterically, her stomach squeezing.

If anyone who had known Grayson five years ago saw him now, so happy and warm, they would not believe it. But Adelaide had somehow, without even knowing, healed her father. He was happier now, he did not hide his emotions behind a mask, he smiled at everyone he talked to.

"That’s what you get for being mean to me."

She just smiled at him, her heart so full, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, not caring that she left behind prints of her hand, and tugged him close.

He let her do so without a complaint, smile on his lips when she finally kissed him.

"Daddy!"

Y/n pulled away, laughing lightly. "Go, daddy, your princess has summoned you."

He chuckled back, standing straight, but seemed to change his mind as he pecked her lips once more. "I’m yours."

Random confessions of love had become a habit of his now.

Kissing her forehead once he jogged out of the bathroom, shutting the door behind him. Leaving her to smile to herself like a giddy teenager.

Mine.

He’s mine.

°•°•°•○🌑○•°•°•°

Mine taglist: @aaronwarnerobsessedmylove @blocked-zombieartist @lillycore @lanterns-and-daydreams

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The Inheritance Games Taglist: @dahliawarner @thena101 @yucanbmylxdy @sheisntyou @kitkatlover015

[vesperane]

dirty little secret

cw: age gap. leon is 21 and reader is in her late 30s. sooo. yeah. potential cheating? probably. awkward flirting. no beta reading. idek what to add ;(

a lil note: controversial topic but listening to artemas’ song i couldn’t help but think of re2 leon and the reader in her late thirties who is an aspiring milf... so yes... here it is the first chapter of the series and idek how many chapters it will take me to finish this bc lately im just feeling intense disorientation?? anywayz i just want some angst and some yearning and it’s all about rookie leon with his questionable mommy kink & his sad big blue eyes.

chapter 1

“Leon, ventilate your stinking room!" 

The morning routine begins with a refreshing shower and Leon’s combing his hair when the voice of Giselle, the biweekly working housekeeper, jars him out of his thoughts. He huffs and puffs since the song he was humming got halved halfway through. 

“Jesus, man. It’s not like I’m running away,” he rants to himself. He dumps his comb on his bedside drawer, barely finding a gap between the volumes of books. Careless and haphazard.

The morning breeze caresses his face when he reaches for his window and cranes it open; the zephyr brings a sweet repose after his long slumber. 

The fresh aroma of autumn rain wafts through the city. It rained non-stop last night while he slept soundly all night. The best time of the year—Leon’s absolute favorite season—had come barging through the door. Lovely morning. Gives him a certain contentment. 

Leon’s eyes, lit by the pale blue and cerulean purity as he surveys the block, fix on the move-in truck. It had been rumored for a few days that there would be other residents moving into the neighborhood. His curiosity about this new family was naturally piqued, considering he hadn’t personally heard much about the new family moving in next door. But all he could see were men working, packing things into the lift, and a few weary groups of old and some young faces. 

Maybe he should go down and help them. Sounds like a good idea. 

He didn’t have much to do on the weekend anyway. Except that the rumbling, fluttery growl of his stomach thwarts his plan of introducing himself. Breakfast time. Shouldn’t be too much trouble to grab a bite to eat right now, and head downstairs, he thinks to himself as he flaps the window shut. 

In the kitchen, he helps Giselle with breakfast, pours himself a fresh cup of coffee, and there’s an empty seat at the table. Somebody is out of the usual, all-too-cloying family picture. His dad is the missing part. 

It doesn’t take long. Leon knows his dad has already gone out, probably to the station. 

“Wasn’t dad on patrol yesterday?" 

“Yeah, kid, but he didn’t show up yesterday. Tried ringing him, sure, but Mr. Kennedy didn’t pick up the phone.” Giselle ruffles Leon’s hair as she always does before she settles the breakfast plate in front of him. 

With a gruff retort, Leon smooths back the hair that has fallen in front of his eyes. God, he hates when they fuck up his perfectly washed hair.

Now don’t get him wrong, Leon sees Giselle as the granny he never had—she’s a part of the Kennedies and a sweet aunty who knows some good cookie recipes, but this kind of cuddly gesture is starting to grate on him now that he’s all grown up. It’s been like this for the last couple of years, since he hit puberty, so to speak. 

“Why are you talking to me like I'm a 12-year-old kid?” It’s hard to comprehend, really. Leon isn’t a 12-year-old kid anymore—he’s a goddamned adult, and he thinks he should be treated like one. 

“Because your hair is always soft, my sweet boy.”

“Whatever.” He waves it off abruptly, but his cheeks do flush. 

“The folk moving in the next door got a boy just like you. Oh, how adorable. Unlike you, he thanked me when I brought some cookies and didn’t pout at me like you always do." Giselle grouses to herself as she walks over to the sink, to the dishes. Typical and ungrateful grandma. 

“Giselle, have you ever heard of the term first impression? The guy probably did that so he’d paint himself as a good neighbor. Jeez!” Leon bites into his morsel of food with a know-it-all lecture. So dramatic, as per usual.

“That still makes him a better boy than you, Leon. Have I ever told you before that you’re growing more like your father as you get older?" 

“Oh, come on. Don’t play the granny card with me now,” Leon says facetiously, but inwardly he knows Giselle’s making a valid point. It’s as if it’s Leon’s instinctive nature to emulate his father, even if he doesn’t want to, not necessarily anyway. But the motivation to be a cop just like his dad is pressing, driving. Knowing that the world he lives in is laden with acidic and poisonous clouds in lieu of rosy skies, Leon never lost his dreamy streak; he was welcomed into a warm home by this very cop when he was a little boy, before he even knew his own name. 

Little by little, Leon treads a path he has decided to take so that every person in trouble, not least kids without a mother or a father, can emerge with that feeling of penchant. Sure, it makes him uneasy; sometimes it’s hard to walk, but it’s always better than nothing. For many more Leon’s to save, to protect. Call it Pollyannaism, call it overly optimizing, even a White Savior complex—Leon wouldn’t mind. He has a solid goal, and that’s it. 

The pandemonium he encounters when he comes downstairs after breakfast is more chaotic than he expected.

“Jesus, a hell of a mess,” he maffles, sotto voce. 

Leon paves the way towards a burly man carrying a vast television set, its screen packed securely in bubble wrap. His eyes, searching for the owners of the apartment, fell on you for the first time—a woman he had never seen before—when he was watching this blight from his window this morning. 

With your back straight to him and a notepad in your hand, you’re recounting something to another staff member. Pencil skirt, button-up shirt ensemble. Ohh, professionalism is talking now.

You must be the daughter of the proprietor of the house or something, in Leon’s opinion. Maybe he should introduce himself before jumping into the conversation. 

Without further ado, he approaches you from behind and calmly pays a detached ear to your conversation with the second worker, who listens to your every word with a perpetual tartness on his face, as if he’s constantly sucking on an acerbically godawful lemon. 

“As I said, the leather on the canapés is authentic, very very prone to ripping. All I ask for is your undivided attention, sir.” 

“Of course, ma’am,” the worker sheepishly gives partiality to the subject, and, relieved that at least your belongings are safe, you look over at the... boy who stands next to you. His powder blue, beaming eyes are the first thing you notice. 

“Hey,” he begins, confidently, to say the least. A sweet attempt. Who could this be? 

“Do I know you?” 

“Oh, yeah— I meannn...” He opens his mouth, and with your proverbial raised eyebrow and probing gaze, Leon simply freezes. He should have known from the start that he was about to engage in a conversation with a hard-ass girl. 

He clears his throat. Awkward tension is killing the both of you, but you do a better job of hiding your emoticons than he does.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. Say hello to the boy next door. I’m Leon Kennedy.” Undeterred, precocious Leon still does what he has in mind: cracking a more sophomoric joke with a raised hand for a handshake. 

“Oh!” You draw on. No need to get rude now. 

His eyes twinkle and agleam. And you give your name to the boy you consider to be the next-door neighbor’s son, shaking his hand cordially. Piece of cake, baby; he knows your name now. 

“It’s been an exhausting day, Leon. Please forgive me if I started with a rude attitude.” You release his hand and then smack your forehead with the hand holding the notebook. Leon thinks it’s very amiable—the moue on your face and the way you switch off the bitching mode almost immediately. 

“No problem, no problem.” Leon raises his hands, palms open and facing outwards. 

“Man, where are your parents? Are they running off with all the work on you?” 

Your parents? Parents?

Aww, that boy’s got it all so wrong. Normally, if you weren’t so knackered, you would have burst out laughing. Anyway, keep it as a memory that you will remember later and laugh your head off. 

“My parents are on vacation in California, Leon." 

“What?” His jaw slacks open. “That’s cruel, damn.” He shakes his head in negativity, as though he has heard the world’s most insipid news. 

“Sure, of course, dear. Only, I must tell you, as the woman of the house, I can take care of a small house relocation.” You cross your arms beneath your chest, tucking them close. 

A pause.

Okay, did you really call him dear and, oh, so randomly? And why are you talking like you’re a character out of those grievous novels?

He’s tense. You’re making Leon reconsider everything he’s done and endured as the numskull he believes himself to be.

The what? The lady of the house? What’s a what? 

You’re married?

...

You’re married.

And most importantly, was Leon mindlessly flirting with a married woman? A chick, actually, just look at you! That, however, isn’t the point. 

His pupils are pinpoint; his blues are narrow and indigo spheres. The poor boy is in a state of sheer perplexity. 

“Holy shit!” His reaction doesn’t last long to be blurted out of his plump lips; it’s visceral, and the picture is unbelievably ridiculous to follow. 

“You’ve got to be kidding. You barely look in your twenties. Ahem! Well, you look great, ma’am.” He mumbles again and again; he’s rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly. 

Where is his initial and boyish verve now? 

Alas, you let him compose himself. Let the poor boy take a breath, right? 

“I feel like I should be thanking you,” you interrupt, so that the boy who’s fiddling uneasily with the fabric of his jacket sleeve will feel a little better. You don’t want to look like a scary and heartless witch in his eyes, anyway. 

“Heh,” he snorts, but futilely. It’s not a pleasant feeling—the guilt wracking fumes swelling deep inside his belly and clenching his muscles in a huge balloon that will eventually implode and burst. 

“Anyway,” he says resolutely; there’s no need to drag it out any further. Let this little talk be a funny, unforgettable, and endearing first impression for both of you. 

“There seems to be a lot of stuff here. Thought I’d drop by to help you out with those,” Leon smiles, all warm and sincere. Playing the role of a wonderful and helpful neighbor, a hero, is his favorite sport. 

“I never turn down a kind helping hand.” 

And you’re up for it. 

With your hands on your hips, you take a cursory glance around and tip your head at the rows of plants in large pots on the floor. 

“I’d be truly grateful if you could help me take these up to the living room. I’ll need them watered, those poor, poor lovelies.” Your eyes fall on his blues again, and it feels gratifying to capture that sheen of sparkle in them. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He... salutes you.

Alright... Boy with a goody-goody attitude. 

You don’t have to tell him twice. Carefully and effortlessly, Leon lifts two heavy pots (show off!), almost child-sized, and you follow him into the elevator with the tiny cactus succulents in your hands. 

part 2?

[etherealyoungk]

━☆ first kiss with seventeen: woozi

♡ first kiss with seventeen series ♡ masterlist ♡

pairing: woozi x reader

warnings: kissing, fluff

wordcount: 550

you're curled in on the couch, earphones plugged in as you listen to woozi's new song - a demo of it. woozi sits next to you as he keenly watches you while you listen, nervous but also sightly excited. he always loved hearing your thoughts on his songs and lyrics.

he watches as you gently bop your head to the music and there's a small smile across your face. if he had to be honest, he was nervous about showing you this song, because it was about you. during the months he was away on tour, he found himself missing you a little too much. so he picked up a pen and started writing, about you.

he thought it might be too cheesy to write a song about you but he couldn't help himself and he was proud of the outcome. it was only when he wanted you to hear it for the first time, he realized how nervous he actually was.

the song finishes and you pull out the earphones, smiling as you look at woozi. "that was amazing", you tell him, and he smiles in relief. "im going to take a wild guess that this song is about the love of your life?", you prompt, teasing him and he smiles to himself. "to my one and only", he tells and you chuckle.

"but you know, i really liked this one line "and we kissed under the moonlight", you start. he looks at you, waiting for you to continue. "but we've never actually kissed...yet", you tell softly and you can see the way his ears turn read upon your comment. you think it's cute how easily shy he gets.

"maybe we could change that?", you prompt, scooting closer to him. "y-yeah we could", he replies, looking back at you. "can i kiss you?", you ask him and it takes him few seconds before registers what you said.

"i'm the one who's supposed to say that!", he counters. "says who", you counter, leaning forward. "and you didn't answer my question", you tell, intertwining you hand in his.

"yes, you can kiss me", he replies softly and that's all you need to close the gap between you both. your lips press softly against his and your hand immediately comes up to cup your cheek as he softly kisses you back.

you pull away and look at him, giving him a soft and sweet smile. "we should kiss under the moonlight for real next time", you tell softly and he smiles, pulling you closer. "we should", he replies and you kiss him again. he'd kiss you with a sweet sort of passion and kiss you sweetly.

he pulls away and pulls you in for a hug, engulfing you in his arms. "thank you for writing a song about me", you tell before sitting up so you can look at his face again.

"you're going to write a song about this moment right", you prompt, knowing woozi a little too well. "read my mind already", he tells, pecking your cheek. he proceeds to show you another song he worked on and looks at you with the most loving eyes as he watches you listen to his music, his emotions, and his feelings. it really made him the happiest person on the planet and you were everything to him.

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