#and if you try to talk to them instead of going into battle

[writingwisterias]

hewwo hewwo

in case it hasn't been asked yet, id love to see your take on each leon era reacting to their partner who's also a fellow agent and also his pseudo captain on the field since they have a little bit more experience and level head compared to him

all your hcs are such joys to read <3333

HIII, This was so interesting to think about! I'm glad you enjoy my hc I'm sorry I took so long its been a really busy couple of months <3

Warnings: None

RE2: I think Re2 Leon would prefer someone with more experience in this Era. He has to sort of make a lot of choices himself and perhaps he could lean on someone to make more of them. It might ease the pressure he probably felt during the entire time. You can see how he reacts to Ada, he follows her instructions because there little else to do, so maybe it would have turned out slightly differently with someone else to talk in those situations.

RE4R: He seems a lot independent in this game so perhaps he would prefer if despite your increased experience it was more of a joint effort, maybe prompting an open discussion. With his head space and he's very protective I think he would also take control or make brash choices before he's really thought them through/ spoken to you about it. Infinite Darkness: Again I think he would accidentally ignore you advice as he gains more experience himself. I feel like Leon's battle strategy is to ensure people remain as safe as they can be. Which could result in him arguing with you about certain situations, mostly follows your lead though in terms of conversations and the general approach to a scenario but will overtake during an actual fight. Damnation: There no point in trying with him. He not going to listen to anything you say that could be a logical response to a situation. The mission requires really fast paced decision making and I feel like he would just take control. If you confront him about it there's no point he'll ignore you and pulling rank doesn't matter or affect him because as far as he concerned it doesn't matter in battle. I think maybe towards the end where he's sort of running on fumes and spite he might listen to you a little bit more, stopping his charging horse approach. RE6: The situation in the game is an interesting one tbh, I think at the start in Tall Oaks he might lean back and encourage you to deal with Helena and just work on being your support during the situation. However, in China I think his behaviour would switch to listening to you and himself depending on what point you are at in the game. I think he would ignore you the most when Ada is involved and he has the opportunity to prevent anything from happening to her. Maybe the encounter with Chris n Piers could strike up some arguments or angst between the two of you. Since he is laying his feelings on the table in the moments, depending on your relationship with him that could hurt. Vendetta: With how he interacts with Chris, I think he would prefer to take orders from you. Towards the start of the film he doesn't really seem interested in listening so it could be interesting if Chris used you as a way to get Leon to listen. Maybe he ran off instead of talking to you or something (Most likely)… I think he would just prefer to take the heat of decision making away for a change since he lost an entire team under his watch. Depending on if you were helping Chris for a while or not then I think he would also play it off as you having more knowledge on a situation. You can defiantly guarantee some stupid joke about listening to what the wife wants or some bs Death Island: I feel like he would prefer a shared opinion on the situation, talking out strategy's etc but I don't think he would argue if you took the lead, make some half-assed Whitty joke about it. instead? The entire mission is weird and there's a lot of opportunity's for you and him to get separated etc so I think it would just be a mutual if you make a call I follow it instead of actual argument's.

[sins-of-the-dragons]

Jacaerys obsessed fellow over here (🐺)

Thinking about Betrothed Stark!Reader and Jacaerys. Thinking about how Reader with her northern upbringing and lifestyle albeit not oblivious or clueless to court manners still is a wild card in Rhaenyra's court with her mere presence and how this is viewed by Jacaerys himself.

Stark!Reader who is so enamoured with Jacaerys that she doesn't hesitate to protect him and his pride/image with the ferocity of a dire wolf.

Stark!Reader who is true to her name and absolutely obliterates any lord or punny guard/maid with words if they do as much as dare doubt the ability of her crown prince betrothed Jacaerys.

Stark!Reader who is ruthless with her verbal onslaught yet diplomatic enough for it to be brushed as a 'northerner behaviour'.

Stark!Reader who says things like 'to question your crown prince like this is to question your queen's ability in picking a proper heir for herself and the realm' when in a diplomatic meeting. Stark!Reader who also says things like 'My lord do you find perhaps unsatisfied with the fact that your youth has passed by you and maidens could be less bothered by your existence if it weren't for your health and name compared to the crown Prince who is getting attention from plenty and not only for the mere fact that he is the crown prince?' when the surroundings aren't as formal.

Stark!Reader who reassures Jacaerys of his role and importance in the war but who is absolutely against him going to battle. 'You are your mother's heir. If you perish, will you let your burdens fall upon the shoulders of your younger siblings or do you perhaps seek to madden your mother with grief?'

Stark!Reader who loves Jacaerys but who ultimately gives Jacaerys a taste of the cold frosty north whenever he gets too heated with his fire and blood, just enough to cool him down and bring him into her arms lovingly.

Okay but imagine Stark!reader was betrothed to Jace at a very young age so even though you have never met him before you felt a sense of loyalty to him. You were always taught about love and duty towards family while growing up and you knew Jace will be your both once you two get married.

Imagine first time meeting Jace in Winterfell. His dragon, although not as big as the others you have heard of, still fascinates you. Mildly snowing. You standing behind your brother Cregan Stark, snow falling on your stark hair, cheeks slightly red, pride of a wolf in your eyes as you welcome Jace to Winterfell.

Jace talking to Cregan but his eyes keep moving to you, after all you are his future wife and he is seeing you for the first time.

Jace was immediately smitten when you spoke to him for the first time. He might have the blood of the dragon in his veins but it was no match for the northern fire in you.

Imagine you were the one who first read the letter of his brother's death and had to give him the news. Heartbroken Jacentried to be strong but he finally broke down infront of you.

Imagine when he returned to Dragonstone you went with him, after all you two will be married soon and it shows loud and clear that house Stark supports Rhaenyra's claim to the throne and Jace as her heir

You are not just another noble lady there. you are the future wife of Jace, the future queen, and you carry yourself as such

A few lords have tried to get into your head, those who secretly support Daemon to take the throne instead of Rhaenyra or think Jac shouldn't be the crown prince. They tried to even secretly convince you to marry another but you never let them succeed

Whenever they try to disregard Jace, you are there to put them in their place, whether it be publicly or in private.

Imagine assuring Jace that no matter what, he is Rhaenyra's son and that is enough to make him a Targaryen and the crown prince. Plotting with him to control the lords.

Imagine stopping Jace from doing something reckless or dangerous because he has to think of his family and mother. If something happens to him it will be a big loss to the Blacks and his family and you will lose the man you love.

Imagine Jace angry and you calming him down. Sitting on his lap, showering him with soft gentle kisses, making him see reasons and how to proceed with his problems.

Maybe sometimes he gets tired and angry with you for fighting his battles. Imagine having a fight about it, and then kissing suddenly. Like "I am angry at you but I love you so much" kiss and it leads to so much more

You two certainly didnt wait till the wedding to have sex. Of course Rhaenyra finds out, but what is she going to do? and she knows if Jace will rule one day he will need you by his side

Imagine stolen kisses, secret touches

Imagine Jace trying to teach you archery, a cute and productive way of spending some alone time. Him standing behind you, teaching you how to aim and pull the bow string, his words whispering in your ears, his lips faintly touching you. Such a romantic moment. And then you go and shoot bullseyes with all the arrows, because well...you are a Stark

Imagine your close relationship with his siblings. They all adore you. Imagine you sometimes looking after them, their barely batched dragons by their side. Jace leaning on the door frame and looking at the scene with a smile on his face. He just cant wait to get married

[icharchivist]

i do love that we're getting a glimpse of what Reno and Rude thought as they were carrying on this mission.

like, it tracks with their characters that they'd be on the edge of being conflicted, but they've been doing that for so long now that what's the point getting conflicted now.

And i sure love that Reno shared his anguish all while looking easy on the eye.

[what-is-it-to-be-pk-esque]

My partner finally finished BG3 but has no idea that his ending was actually bad cause he was a pro-Vlaakith githyanki who rode off with Lae'zel but got NO EPILOGUE where Withers points out y'all died im 😭😭😭

they have no idea what happened with Gale or anyone else (who was still alive) after flying away 🙃🙃🙃

[tizeline]

TSAU Season 1 Finale - Part 1

It's about damn time I go over the TSAU's version of the remaining season 1 finale, as well as episode 1 of season 2, so HERE WE ARE! I am too lazy to adapt the entire thing into a proper comic, especially considering several plot points remain rather unchanged from canon, so we're doing whatever this format is instead.

(You should read Cell Talk and Gearing Up before this if you haven't already)

But a quick recap, the Gearing Up comic ended with Draxum in the Dark Armour going up to the surface with Mikey to start with the whole conquering humanity thing. Raph and Leo have offically joined Team Good Guys and they, alongside Donnie, Splinter, April, Shelldon and Mayhem went after Draxum to stop his evil plans.

When they make surface, Draxum and Mikey have already started their rampage and are just kinda wrecking the baseball stadium. The Foot are also at the stadium, clearly still expecting The Shredder to show up or something. Team Good Guys (yes that's their name now) figure it's probably good to try to get whatever info about the Dark Armour they can so April and Mayhem teleport to where The Foot are to try to gather some intel that might help them in the fight against Draxum.

Meanwhile, the others start fighting Draxum and Mikey. Draxum is low-key kinda baffled that Raph just straight up switched teams lmao. Leo is one thing, but Raph has always been so loyal and responsible so it's real suprising that he's completely disobeying orders. None of the Draxum family members are really enthusiastic about fighting each other (except maybe Mikey he's kinda pissed at this point) but they engage in battle anyway. Donnie, Shelldon and Splinter are less hesitant about kicking Draxum's ass and don't really hold their punches lmao. Despite that they're kinda struggling considering both Drax and Mikey are so strong, but that's when April and Mayhem teleport back with that useful intel!

What April learned from her intel-gathering is that The Foot think there is some kind of flaw with the armour, like in canon, you know the deal. What differs from canon is exactly how that flaw occured. Turns out that Donnie when he was younger got a little bit carried away with giving Shelldon cool powerful weapons and Shelldon enced up accidentally shooting up the teapot to smithereens, oopsie! Donnie managed to reassembe it before Splinter saw, but with one of the pieces having gone missing he had to sacrifice his Atomic Lass figurine to plug up the final hole (he's still upset about that to this day btw). BUT POINT IS, like in canon this means that the armour has a obvious weakpoint and if they hit that it might be enough to knock Draxum out of the armour!

You know what happens next, they resume the fighting with this new strategy in mind and eventually they manage to get a lucky hit in and as predicted knocking out the Atomic Lass toy causes Draxum to get knocked out as well. Except YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS and you know it's not quite that easy. Lo and behold, the Atomic Lass figurine was the last thing keeping The Shredder from being resurrected, so now that it's gone? Yeah, the Dark Armour is finally completed, it slurps Draxum's life-force or whatever and then spits him out.

The Shredder is back.

... Except not entirely of course, like in canon he's acting like a wild animal attacking anything that moves, but regardless it's still a new threat they have to deal with. With Draxum being so hurt, Leo makes the decision to portal him back home, and to also send Mikey with him. Both because Draxum probably needs someone to look after him and also Leo doesn't really wanna deal with Mikey's attitude at the moment with everything else going on lmao.

From here on out the battle against Shredder begins. This too goes mostly the same way as in canon, Shredder kinda kicks all of their asses before suddenly teleporting away, and then that song and dance repeats a couple of times before Team Good Guys figure they need a better strategy. Splinter brings up how Big Mama would probably have a way to subdue Shredder, only problem is that it's BIG MAMA and he does NOT wanna go anywhere close to her. In canon Leo brought Splinter with him to BM anyway, but in the AU he kinda respects Splinter, or rather Lou Jitsu, too much to force him to come along. Instead Leo decides he and Raph will go to BM for help, while the others keep Shredder from completely wrecking New York.

The rest of the finale continues in Part 2!

[sp0o0kylights]

Sometimes I think of a Steve Harrington that is absolutely exhausted by all the horror and bullshit and trying to keep the kids alive through said horror and bullshit, who watches Eddie rock up to him at the beginning of S4 with a dead eyed, flat stare.

"Steeeeve Harrington." Eddie taunts and peacocks and twirls around him, and all Steve wanted was for a couple months to process the trauma, maybe feel safe enough to start thinking about the future instead of stuck in a never ending anxiety loop of what might happen to Dumbass Near-Deatherson, should Steve go to college or move out of Hawkins (bc all the bad nicknames in the world won't erase the fact that Dustin's family, now. They're all family. And when they need help, they go to Steve.) and now he's suffering the unjust ordeal of being haunted by the high school drug dealer.

"His highness has come down from his castle!" Munson will crow, making a show out of Steve picking up the kids like this is a great battle of wits, a scoreboard between them and not like Steve is half dead on his feet, head aching, dreams full of too many teeth. "Quickly hide behind me, he'll try to cut off your heads!"

"Wouldn't he just cut yours off too?" Lucas asked, though the tone was slightly timid, Sinclair unsure if his joke would be well recieved.

(Steve doesn't care if the kid outright insults him. He still recalls the junkyard, the fight with Billy, the blood staining the kid's headband. Lucas lived, therefore, he can be a shit if wants.)

"Mine? Oh, the King wouldn't dare." Munson tosses his head, full of cartoon energy, too big for his body and grin both. "Many have tried you see, but no one had ever succeeded!"

Steve, equally, does not give a single shit that Eddie Munson has decided to play these games with him--until he realizes he's maybe been a little too exhausted and depressed and morose around the kids.

Watches them getting worried over him, whispering urgently and making dramatic gestures and talking to Robin and suddenly, playing a little tug of war over them the way Munson seems to want feels like a good idea. A way to hide all the rough edges, a way to be fine so they can be fine.

"How about you guys skip the dork brigade tonight," Steve taunts back the next time they're all together, standing like the man he used to be, wearing a dead personality. "And we go do something actually fun instead?"

Eddie laughs, lights up, is all too happy to match him tit for tat, and it's so easy to fake this kind of interaction, rolling his eyes and snapping his gum. Steve could match this energy in his sleep, and never once does Munson catch on that Steve's not doing this for him.

That he's not even looking at him half the time, eyes askew, locked on the kids. Seeing them relax as he banters, seeing Dustin glow as he returns to his favorite position, being the center of attention.

So long as they think he's okay, Steve will be okay. If that means putting up with Munson, then so be it.

Its not like he'll catch on.

Eddie doesnt.

(Or rather, he does--but Its months and several deaths later, when they're in the RV, chasing what feels like literal demons, does it dawn on Eddie what Steve is doing.

Has been doing, the whole time.

Steve, sassy, ridiculous, jock- brained Steve makes the mistake of doing it again, using the same trick he had on the kids to convince them he was fine on Eddie. To further convince Eddie that they were fine as a group.

That they'll survive, they'll figure it out, they'll make it.

Loudly bantering with dead eyes, smiling with a mouth robotically locked in. Jokes on jokes on jokes and all of them making the kids take their minds off VecnaHenryOne to screech ineffectively at their babysitter. Winks tossed to the girls, who both roll their eyed at him. A sly look given to Eddie, to include him.

Its then, that Eddie decides to cement his life with Steve's. Because this loyal bastard of a paladin is too good hearted to die, too protective to not try it anyway. The idiot is cutting himself to ribbons to tie them all together and Eddie can't undo the damage but he can grab all the pieces he can, loop them together.

He can make those dead eyes light up again.

And he does.

This time when things are over Steve finds himself unable to pull those little tricks of his. Every time he slides the mask over his face Eddie rips it right back off again.

They fight, a lot, until they start kissing instead and for a while that also, somehow, feels like fighting but Eddie's real good at this. The emotional part, not so much the kissing, but he knows how to draw Steve out. How to break down walls, and annoying his real personality out.

The kissing was just an odd little side benefit.

A thing they don't talk about.

There's a benefit to it, one he doesn't look very hard into, until strangely, one day, Eddie wakes with Steve's head pillowed on his shoulder and comes to the abrupt conclusion that he's screwed.

Or so he thinks--until bright, loving eyes blink awake, and turn on him, and Eddie realizes just how long it's been since they looked dead.

He wonders, vaguely, how long it'll take for Steve to catch on, that this just got serious.

Will laugh at himself when he learns that Steve already knew.

Guess that's what he gets for finally paying attention.)

[maryellencarter]

I don't think most of my followers actually need to be told, but: y'all gotta let people switch sides.

I'm seeing a lot of "if you voted for Trump you're not welcome here" floating around. A lot of "haha the leopards are eating your face how does it feel". A lot of talk about the irredeemability of Nazis, with the strong implication that everyone who had any hand in bringing the current administration to power is a full-on Nazi and should be shot without trial.

People were fooled. People were lied to. People who genuinely tried to do their research were lied to by sources that had been reliable for decades. People who didn't have the time or the education to do their own research because they're fucking poor in America are finding out they were lied to.

If someone is trying to get out of a cult, you don't fucking lock them back in. You give them a place to run to. And if someone is trying to join your side in a battle that, at least hypothetically, is supposed to be settled by future democratic elections and therefore by strength of numbers, you fucking let them.

People are scared. People are finding out they were wrong. We are nowhere near the point yet where the wrong side is composed entirely of Bad Guys, if we ever will be. (Hell, eleven years after Hitler took power, some of his own generals tried to assassinate him with an exploding briefcase. It failed, but every time I see that stupid Tarantino gifset go by about "everyone in a Nazi uniform is irredeemably evil", that's what I think of. People are complicated, and everyone has their own breaking point.)

Where we *are* at is a point where people who don't want to be the bad guys are finding out what they were tricked into and trying to stop doing it. If you have any remaining faith in the democratic process at all, you should be helping those people join us and understand what the sides actually stand for, how they can actually fight for lower egg prices or whatever they were falsely promised. Even if you don't think democracy will help anymore, having a bigger group to fight alongside you is generally a good thing.

Or you could just take your hatred out on the most convenient targets, instead of on those who exploited them. Seems popular.

[stevesgother]

Chalkboard Hearts - S.H

Pairing - KindergartenTeacher!Steve Harrington x Fem!Mom!Reader

WC - 4.3k

Contains - strangers to friends to lovers, slowburn, so much fluff, teacher!steve and mom!reader. No descriptions are given of reader or abbey, other than that abbey has curly hair, steve and reader are the same age (about 24-25), set early-mid 90's

AN - i don’t write for kids often so i hope this reads well and is realistic. i don’t have a clear end for this series in mind, so i’m gonna keep writing it for as long as y’all want it :) feel free to send requests for blurbs for this AU if you so wish and as always, thank you - emma

“Moooooom,”

You hear a tiny voice whisper in your ear. Most mornings started this way, if not all of them. Whoever said getting children out of bed in the morning was difficult had clearly never met Abbey. Every day you peeled your tired eyes open to see the miniature version of them staring back at you, the only difference being they were much wider, and lacking the distinct fog of leftover sleep.

Today her hair was sticking up in all different directions; frizzy curls here and tangled knots there. Your daughter takes after you in many ways, one being that she’s an active sleeper and it shows when she wakes up. Her bed was always disheveled; embroidered blankets strewn across her bedroom floor and little red lines indented in her cheeks where they had been smushed against her pillow.

“Mornin’ Ab,” you say, voice gravelly with disuse. “Have you made your bed yet?” you eye her suspiciously.

You know she hasn’t and she confirms as much when she spins on her heel and dashes for her room down the hall. Truthfully, you couldn’t care less if her bed was made or not, it was merely a guise to buy you a few extra minutes of peace and quiet each morning.

︵୨୧︵

When she doesn’t reappear, you assume she’s gotten distracted and decide to make your way downstairs to scrounge for something to eat. You never ate breakfast before you had Abbey; either for lack of time or because the smell of food so early in the morning made you nauseous. Eating three meals a day was just one bullet point on the long, running list of changes in your routine since becoming a mother.

Two bowls of Frosted Flakes were set out on the table after deciding there was no time for anything more nutritious.

“Abbey!” You call, “Breakfast!” 

You hear the sounds of sniffling and small feet padding on hardwood as she enters the kitchen– pouting. You try not to gape at the utter monstrosity of an outfit she's put on. She whines, “I don’t know what I want to wear!”

You sense a meltdown coming already, on today of all days. Pre-school was easy, as Abbey was a fairly agreeable kid. Or at least she used to be. Lately it felt like you had to battle her about anything and everything. 

“You look so beautiful, Ab!” you reassure her, attempting to deescalate the impending tantrum. She has on pink corduroy pants and a frilly forest green blouse. For accessories she’s sporting a chunky plastic necklace that definitely came with a dress-up kit, along with a tutu. You have no idea where the tutu came from.

Eventually she decides not to fight you, at least not on her outfit. However, as she climbs into the kitchen chair, she scowls down at the soggy cereal in front of her and asks in the most darling tone she can muster,

“Can I have Scooby fruit snacks instead?”

“How about I pack some in your lunchbox today and you can eat them at snack time?” you try to barter.

Sneaking a glance at the clock, it mocks you with its unforgiving hands– you’re going to be late and your daughter will have skipped supposedly the most important meal of the day. Some mother you are.

“But I want them right now!” Her petite fists bang against the wooden table and she’s a heap of dramatics wriggling in her chair.

“Hey, what did we talk about? Yelling is not nice, even when we’re frustrated. Right?” She acknowledges you with a teary nod along with more crying and petulant moaning that can be heard as you run to the bathroom and grab a hairbrush with two bows. When you return, she’s still moping over her breakfast, but taking bites nonetheless. A win is a win.

You begin detangling the mess of knots and snarls at the back of her head. “Ouch, Mommy!” she cries when you try to comb through a particularly tangled section.

You place one of your hands over the crown of her head like a claw in a poor attempt at keeping her from squirming, “The more you move the longer it takes, sweetheart,” 

“Hmph.” she pouts, folding her arms over her chest. When all is said and done, your daughter has her hair parted and tied into two high pigtails, secured with little pink bows, and you’re rushing her out of the front door with haste.

︵୨୧︵

In all the hubbub, you realize you’ve barely gotten yourself ready. Reaching over to buckle Abbey into her carseat, she asks,

“When can I sit up front with you?”

“When you’re this many,” You hold out both your hands to display all ten fingers.

She mimics you with her own smaller fingers, “Ten?”

“That’s right!” You smack a kiss on the crown of her head as you pull back, she smells like her strawberry scented shampoo.

“Watch your feetsies,” you warn and she tucks her legs unnecessarily far into her chest as you close the door. 

The ride is filled with the usual nonsensical ramblings of a five-year-old. She beams back at you through the rearview mirror, eyes sparkling and nodding fervently when you ask if she’s excited to make some new friends today. Your social butterfly, the complete antithesis of you. 

The elementary school is only a few miles from your home, and before you know it you’re circling a crowded parking lot and preparing to drop your only child off for her first day of kindergarten. The rush of emotions you feel are indecipherable, something like a mix of somberness, excitement, relief, and anxiety.

As you walk towards the front of the building, you’re surrounded by dozens of kids aged five through twelve greeting their teachers and saying ‘Hello’ to friends they haven’t seen all summer. The teachers are holding laminated signs that indicate their name and what grade they teach; thank God for that. Abbey’s little fist squeezes around your index finger and you can tell she’s becoming nervous, despite her previous unbridled anticipation.

“Hey, it’s okay,” You assure, “Look, I think that’s your teacher right there,” you point towards a tall, brunette man standing near the double doors.

A shy smile tugs at the corners of her lips when she sees the teacher in question. He’s dressed in a striped button-down shirt and khakis, with a lanyard dangling from his front pocket; the typical teacher attire.The sign he’s holding reads, ‘Mr. Harrington’ and just below that, ‘Kindergarten’ with a little cartoon apple printed next to his name. He looks young compared to the rest of the staff, closer to your own age. This must be his first year teaching.

As you approach him, Abbey treks in front, eager to meet him. Her backpack is adorned with sparkly butterflies and it covers nearly her entire torso; bumping the backs of her knees with every step she takes.

The man crouches down to her level and greets her, “Hey there,” he offers a warm smile, “what’s your name?”

“Abbey,” she says timidly, twiddling her fingers and flashing a toothy grin at him. She doesn’t bother with her last name, honestly you’re not positive that she even knows it.

“Well, it’s very nice to meet you, Abbey,” he holds a gentle hand out for her to shake and she does so hesitantly, “My name’s Mr. Harrington, and I’m going to be your teacher this year. How does that sound?” The way he’s so patient and attentive with her stirs something within you that you haven’t felt in years, but he’s a teacher, for goodness sake. He looks up then, locking eyes with you and rising back to his full height.

This time, it’s your turn to shake his hand. “I’m Steve.”  He flashes you a smile directly out of a Colgate ad and you hope you’re not blushing as much as you feel like you are.

You must look nervous because he immediately assures you that Abbey’s in good hands this year. “We’re having an open house tonight, I hope to see you both there,”

You glance at your daughter, “What’d you think, Ab? That sound fun?”

“Yes!” She squeals and almost falls over from the weight of her backpack.

“Okay then,” With that, you crouch down to give Abbey one final hug. It’s clear that she’s itching to go socialize with the other kids, so you try not to delay her with your sappiness.

“Be good today, okay?” you give her a tight squeeze and a smacking kiss on her little cheek, “I’ll be back to get you at two-forty-five.”

“What will the clock say?” She asks inquisitively. Her favorite question.

“It’ll say ‘two-four-five’,” She nods in understanding, “But I bet you’ll be having so much fun that you won’t even remember to look.”

She’s already on her way to the door when she calls, “Love you, mommy!” and blows you a kiss with her lips puckered. You blow her one back and fight the tears threatening to surface. When did she get so big?

A pang of insecurity settles in your chest when you chance a look around and see all the children accompanied by two parents. You begin the walk back to your sedan before the thought has a chance to fester.

︵୨୧︵

Six hours goes by alarmingly fast when it’s spent running around your house in a frenzy, trying to catch up on all the cleaning you aren’t able to do when there’s a rampant five-year-old on the loose, making a brand new mess where you just cleaned an old one.

Before you can even register the time has passed, it's two o’clock and you need to pick Abbey up in a mere forty five minutes. Looking around your house, you feel satisfied with the progress you were able to make on tidying and call it a day.

This time, you decide to try and appear more presentable before visiting the school, and firmly remind yourself that it has nothing to do with how flustered your daughter’s kindergarten teacher makes you. By the time you’re dressed and have pulled your hair up into a halfway decent top knot; it’s time to go.

︵୨୧︵

The line for pickup wraps around the front of the building, aided by crossing guards and supervised by a few teachers. Twenty minutes into waiting, you regret not having gotten here a little sooner. ‘Tomorrow’ you think. Soon, you catch sight of two little pigtails bobbing up and down as your Abbey skips over to you, grinning ear to ear while Steve watches from the doors she just exited.

“Mommy!” she shouts as she bounds towards you. You place the car in park and run around to greet her.

“Hi, Bug!” you exclaim as you bend at the waist to pick her up. She gives you a tight squeeze around the neck, and you catch a split second of Steve’s gaze over her shoulder before he’s disappearing back inside the school

Plopping her as gently as possible into her carseat and fastening the straps over her chest, her mouth is already moving a mile a minute– absolutely ecstatic to tell you all about the activities she got up to while you were gone.

“What is ‘open house’ ?” she asks, kicking her feet like she can’t possibly contain all the excitement inside her little body.

“It’s just a chance for all the mommies and daddies to meet your teachers,” you explain, “And you get to show me around your new school, fun right?”

Her face lights up like a christmas tree at the prospect, “Are we gonna go?!”

“Yes, but first we have to eat dinner. What sounds good?”

Without missing a beat, she yells a little too loudly, “McDonalds!”

You want to say yes, of course you do, but your shifts at the ER barely cover the minimum of your living expenses. Your resolve begins to crumble, however, when she looks at you with those saucer-round eyes, and her bottom lip juts out in the most precious pout. Who knew she could be so harmlessly manipulative?

“I don’t know, Ab. I think we have some chicken nuggets in the freezer at home, though,” you say, with an air of hopefulness that she might accept the compromise.

“Not the same,” she whines, “Please, Mommy! I’ll be extra extra good please–”

And with that, it’s over.

“Okay! Okay, fine,” you feign annoyance through a smile, “We’ll stop on the way home,”

You can still hear her squeals of excitement when you close the door and walk around to the driver's seat.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey dresses a little more cohesively for the open house than she did this morning. This time she’s clad in a thrifted pair of overalls overtop a little purple blouse. She leads you, hand in hand, inside the school like she knows exactly where she’s going– despite only having spent six hours here.

Steve’s classroom looks exactly how you’d expect. The walls are a light, mint green and it’s as if a character from Sesame Street threw up all over it. Abbey leads you to a reading nook in the corner of the room, surrounded by books and complete with several bean bag chairs, and proclaims this is her favorite spot. She shows you where her desk is– right in the very front of the classroom– and on it, a laminated sticker with her first and last name sits neatly near the top. The walls are lined with colorful letters in alphabetical order, accompanied with numbers just underneath them.

“Abbey!” you hear a familiar voice call, “I’m glad you and your mom could make it!” turning to you then, “I’m actually not sure I ever caught your name,” he chuckles awkwardly, clearly embarrassed by the fact that he doesn’t know it yet.

“Oh, it’s–” and before you get the chance to tell him, Abbey pipes up and tells him your first and last name with a confidence that she certainly didn’t have when it came to her own introduction this morning. You’re relieved that she feels so comfortable around him already.

He repeats your name back to you and holds out his hand for you to shake, “It’s nice to meet you,” You pay no mind to the way your heart beats a little faster in its cage at the sound of your name on his lips. His palm is surprisingly soft when you grasp it in your own.

“It’s nice to meet you too,” you grant him a polite smile, “Abbey could not stop talking about you on the way home,” you pinch her side, teasing, and she giggles in that contagious way that kids do.

“Is that so?” he feigns surprise when he looks at her.

“Nooo!” her giggles amplify as she becomes increasingly bashful.

He crouches down to meet her at eye-level, exactly like he did this morning, “Well, that’s a shame, because I think you might be one of my favorite students,”

Now, she’s a heap of laughter and has a blush spreading from the apple of her cheeks to the tips of her ears. You can’t help but feel enamored by how great he is with children, silently wondering if he comes from a big family, or if he has a child of his own.

“Did you introduce your mom to Nibbles?” he asks her when her laughing mostly subsides.

She gasps like she can’t believe she would’ve forgotten such a thing, then she hauls you by the arm over to a tiny cage on a table, presumably for an even tinier animal.

“Mommy, look! This is Nibbles,” She’s peering between the metal bars of the enclosure and encouraging you to do the same, when you lean in closer you see a small, tan gerbil sleeping in a little nest of bedding.

“He’s our friend and he helps us learn, so we have to be very careful with him,” she tells you with a sudden seriousness that's amusing to see displayed on such a young face. It’s obvious she’s parroting Steve.

You turn to see Steve observing from a few feet behind you, both hands shoved in his pockets, “I didn’t think teachers actually had class pets,” you breathe a huff of laughter.

“Oh, yeah,” he chuckles with you, “I brought him from home, actually. Figured he could use some socialization. With dozens of children.” he informs you sarcastically. God, he’s funny too.

“Wouldn’t have pegged you to be a hamster guy,” you tease.

“He’s a gerbil, first of all,”

“Right, sorry, my bad,” you smirk.

“No time for a dog, I guess,” he shrugs, “thought I could use the company,” he’s clearly still bantering, but there’s an underlying melancholy in his tone that you can’t quite place. Before you can think about it for longer than a second, an impatient five-year-old is tugging on your arm and begging to show you the library.

“Okay, alright,” you laugh, “better get to it, the library awaits,” you shoot him an apologetic look for having cut the conversation short. You feel less guilty, however, when you see more parents and children start to funnel into the classroom, busying him in yours and Abbey’s absence.

“See ya, “ he waves. 

“Bye, Mr. Harrington!” Abbey yells, already halfway down the hall. 

︵୨୧︵

In the library you have to shush Abbey several times, much to her dismay.

“We use our inside voices in the library, Ab,” you remind her for the fifth time. She frowns but it’s temporary when she spots her favorite section: the picture books. Abbey is ahead of a kindergarten reading level now, and it's one of her favorite hobbies, but you can still never go wrong with a good picture book.

You’re about to follow her when you hear someone call your name. 

You turn, “Stephanie?” you ask, puzzled.

“Oh my gosh! It’s been forever!” an old friend from your shared high school, Stephanie, pulls you into an unreciprocated bear hug. Squeezing and swaying back and forth for an awkward amount of time.

“Hey,” you draw out the last syllable and try to paint your voice with a nostalgic excitement, “How have you been?” you ask, even though you’re sure you’d rather be shot than continue this conversation.

You don’t know if you could really call Stephanie a ‘friend’, or if you ever could. The only reason she even knew your name being the shared, piranha-esq social circle you both ran in years ago. She reminded you of your past– who you used to be– someone who you’re not particularly proud of.

“Oh, I've been just fine!” She gestures wildly with manicured nails. Her lips are overlined and her hair is still damaged from bleaching and too many perms. Evidently, not a lot has changed. You ponder if she’s still the mean girl she always was underneath all that makeup, or if at some point in your adolescence she decided to mature.

“Todd and I just bought a house over on Maplewood, are you familiar?”

“Oh, no, not really– my daughter and I live across town,” You don’t like how ashamed you feel, “I’ve heard it’s beautiful over there, though,” you attempt to smile but it doesn’t reach your eyes.

“That was your daughter?” She’s trying not to sound taken aback and failing, “With–?”

“Yes,” Your teeth grit ever so slightly. You hate that she won’t say his name, as if speaking it into existence would somehow break you. Like you’re fragile.

“I was terribly sorry to hear about what happened, Hon,” Her sudden sympathetic tone irritates you, whether it’s genuine or not. You don’t need pity, especially not from Stephanie Nettles.

“It’s okay, Steph, really,” losing patience by the second, nothing about it was okay. “It was a long time ago, Abbey and I are doing fine,” you assure her.

“Oh,” she fawns as she presses her bony hands against her chest above her heart, “Can I meet her? Would you mind?" Her tone is saccharine sweet. You figure it can’t hurt, but when you turn around to retrieve Abbey, she’s not where you left her. The spot on the rug that she was previously occupying is empty and her book is abandoned on the floor.

“Abbey?!” Calling a little too loudly for the setting you’re in but you can’t bring yourself to care. You search row after row, it’s not a big library, and after every shelf you’re expecting her to be there– browsing novels and you’ll feel silly for overreacting.

But that doesn’t happen, and you realize with mild panic that she definitely left the library; somehow without you noticing. You suppose this is the safest place for her to go missing, but the thought doesn’t soothe you for long as you still have no idea where your daughter could be.

Stephanie is staring at you with concern, but still making no effort to help you locate Abbey. You don’t speak and neither does she as you rush out of the room and begin to pace the halls, still calling out for her. You check the bathrooms by the gym, a couple of empty classrooms that aren’t locked– she’s not there either.

When you’ve checked every available room and potential hiding spot in the near vicinity and still see no trace of her, that’s when the real dread sets in. What if she’d wandered outside and been taken? Or worse, there had been an accident and she’s hurt? She could be miles from here by now, she could be–

“I think this might belong to you,” a mellow voice rings out.

Steve and Abbey walk leisurely towards you, hand in hand. A complete contrast to the frazzled mess of anxiety you are right now. You hurl yourself in their direction and wrap Abbey up in a hug, lifting her off her feet.

“Oh my God, Abbey,” normally you’d be fuming at her for wandering off like that when you know that she knows better, but you can’t feel anything other than relief in the moment.

“Found her on the swings,” Steve continues, “Isn’t that right?”

Your relief does eventually morph to frustration, “You know better, Abbey Jane. Don’t stray off like that again. Do you understand?”

She succumbs to her guilt and you can tell her short-lived freedom has lost its novelty. “I’m sorry, mommy,” her little eyes well with tears. “The other kids were going to the swings, I wanted to go,” she pouts.

“We could’ve gone, baby, but you have to ask first, okay?”

Her meek response is muffled in the crook of your neck, “Okay,”

She’s still sniffling into your shoulder when you remember Steve is there, and your surroundings come back into focus.

“Thank you for finding her, Steve–”

“--His name is Mr. Harrington, mom,” she corrects like she can’t believe you’d embarrass her like that by calling her teacher the wrong name.

“--Mr. Harrington,” you stifle a laugh for your daughter's sake, sending him a knowing look.

He returns the expression, “Anytime,” he smiles, sweet . “Think that's enough scaring your mom for today, huh?”

Instead of acknowledging with words, she simply nods her head, eyes glued to the floor, ashamed.

“I think someones getting sleepy, might be time to head home,” you drag a gentle hand down her back soothingly.

“Will you carry me?” she asks too adorably to say no, despite her being ever-so-slightly too big for it. Grunting as you pick her up, you say, “Thanks, again,”

“No need,” he ruffles Abbey’s head lightly as you pass, “See you tomorrow, right?”

“See you,” her eyelids are heavy already. You make your way back to the car slowly but surely, arms growing more numb with every step.

︵୨୧︵

Abbey manages to bargain a bath out of you and four books before bedtime instead of the usual two. How you ever say no to her, you’re not sure. By the time you finally tuck her in, it's well past nine o’clock.

“Did you have a good day today?” You ask as you bend down to kiss her forehead.

“Yes, Mr. Harrington is my favorite teacher,” she proclaims drowsily.

“He’s your only teacher, Ab,” You snicker.

“But he’s still my favorite,” she replies in the same cadence one would say ‘Duh’.

“Well, I guess you’ll have to go to sleep super fast tonight so you can see him sooner, right?”

You can practically see the lightbulb turn on above her head like she’s just had a groundbreaking revelation and nods fervently. You tuck her in tight on both sides, and give her a kiss on each of her cheeks and once more to her forehead for good measure.

“Love you, Abbey girl,” you tell her on your way out, “Goodnight,”

“Goodnight, mommy,” she says wearily from underneath her princess bedsheets.

The door closes with a soft click and you make your way to the living room. You never had the chance to ask Stephanie what she was doing at the school– from what you knew, she didn’t have any children. Perhaps she was a teacher. It didn’t matter as long as you didn’t have to interact with her again.

As you lounged on your old sectional, you couldn't help your mind wandering back to thoughts of Steve. You wanted to know more about him. Where he came from, what made him want to work with kids, why he needed a gerbil to keep him company. Distantly, you imagined what he was like outside of an elementary school setting. You hoped one day you’d find out.

He was Abbey’s teacher, sure, but what was the harm in a little crush?

taglist - @soulxiez

divider credit to @/strangergraphics

[petite-siren06]

Forced Heat [Fem Chubby Bunny Reader] {Smut + Fluff}

Image from Pinterest by: Ti✦na

CW: Breeding, Knotting..

Not Proofread

You're a bunny hybrid, the last of your kind and through the time in imprisonment in this laboratory you were cautious of everything that did. The food they gave you, the stares, the tests. Everything freaked you out. It took a long while for you to get used to your new living conditions. The scientist in charge made sure to give you a habitat that suited to your needs instead of putting you in a cell since you were the last of your species so they made sure to take extra special care of you. So why did they think to pair you with a predator species? That was the last thing you wanted and apparently he felt the same way. “Why am I paired up with this inferior creature?” The wolf hybrid snarled at the scientist. You could only frown at his harsh words. His words stung just because you were a prey species doesn’t mean you are less important than the predators. “We are trying to see if you two are compatible Matias. Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” One of the scientists warned him. Matias huffs in annoyance as he stares at you.

He sits down on the opposite of you in the tiny cell they put both of you in. “So what’s special that they had to pair me up with a small and chubby thing like you?” Matias said as he scrutinized you harshly. “Beats me.. I don’t want to be here any more than you do so please can we get this done.” You tried extending an olive branch to him. “Fine but we somehow are compatible enough to be mates. I don't want to hear any complaints from you.” Matias said with harsh glare. “So what’s your name, little bunny?” “[Y/N], My name is [Y/N]..” You told him with an unreadable expression. “[Y/N]” He took a second to digest the information. “It seems to fit you nicely. Yeah, I like that name.” Matias said as his lips slightly twitched upwards. Your eyes raked over his body. He was fit and lean, he didn’t have too much muscle which was good but he also had a lot of scars. “I’m guessing you're a warrior? Judging from your scars.” You asked him with curiosity. His gaze seemed to harden once you spoke about his scars. Your eyes widen in slight panic from his reaction. Matias then let out a sigh. “Yes, I was one of the warriors of my clan. All my scars came from different battles.” He informed you. As he starts to ramble about his scars you choose to get closer to him. He continued to talk and talk until you made it to the other side and sat beside him.

You then grabbed his hand and when you did that seemed to grab his attention. You pressed soft kisses to his scarred hand. You could feel him tense up but he didn’t pull his hand away. A soft ding noise echoed through the room. The scientists then entered the room with clipboards in hand. “Congrats you two. You both are compatible to be mates.” One of the male scientists with a sly smirk. Matias wrapped an arm around your plush waist signaling the male scientist to watch his words. “Alright, I see you're already getting protective of her.” He said with a chuckle. “Alright, guards take them back to their rooms.” The other scientist called for the guards.As the guards escorted both you and Matias back to your room you gave him a small reassuring smile. He saw it and couldn’t help but smile back. 

As time went on the scientist found that you and Matias were the best fit for each well and mostly because once two hybrids mate they won’t be compatible with anyone else. So one day they decided to do a specific test only with you and not Matias. “It’s just some medicine [Y/N] relax.” The scientist said in a reassuring tone as she held up a syringe. Although it didn’t look like medicine, you'd rather obey than go without dinner again. So you lifted your arm and let them stick the needle inside of you. They injected  the “medicine” and it didn’t seem to take effect immediately you sighed thankfully. You were free to go back to your room but as you were escorted back to your room you couldn’t help but feel your body heat up.

Whatever they gave you it made you go into your heat faster than anticipated so you were humping anything you got your hands on.. Anything to make the aching feeling in your cunt go away but nothing seemed to be working.  You whined in pain as you humped the pillow that was drenched in your slick. “Get her mate, we have enough data and she looks like she needs him.” One of the scientists told the guards. Soon you heard the door to your habitat open and you saw your mate and he looked beyond worried. “Pumpkin, I’m so sorry.. Here let me help you.” Matias said as he unzipped his pants and freed his cock. He took the pillow away from you and flipped you onto your back. He positions you into a mating press as he aligns his cock into your dripping sex. He hissed as he pushed himself into you. You could only groan as you wrapped your legs around him to pull him in deeper. Once fully inside you he started at a slow pace but then gradually sped up. “Gonna give you some pups but first gotta take care of my baby.” He cooed as he kissed your soft plump cheek. “God my baby is so perfect..” Matias whined as he felt you clench around him. “Focus on my cock honey, focus on how it fills you nicely and perfectly.” He encouraged you as he thrusted roughly instead of you causing you to cry out in pleasure. The sound of other hybrids in contaminate cheered Matias on as he continued to help you with your forced heat cycle.

Matias feels you tighten around him, he bites back a groan and he thrusts one last time before he paints your walls white, he orgasm triggers your own and you moan out his name as you creamed around his knotted cock. You start to whine as you feel the base of his cock start to swell inside of you. ”I know.. I know sweetheart this is just to help you a little bit more.” He reassured you as he nuzzled his face into your hair as he inhaled your sweet scent. Your body trembles as it slowly gets used to the stretch. After a few mins Matias’s knot swells down and he pulls out of you. You sighed in content as you felt his strong arms wrap around your chubby body. You felt him rub his hand over your chubby tummy. “Can’t wait to see your belly swell up with our pups.” He said affectionately as looked into your eyes. “I’ll protect you and our babies. I promise my love.” He said as he pressed his lips against yours. “I love you” He whispers against your lips.

Image from Pinterest by: Grafik Dizayn

[insertdisc5]

TIMELOOP GAMES REAL!??!??!!

hi i made a timeloop game called In Stars and Time and this is a whole post about other timeloop games you can also play.

some i liked. some i loved. some i didnt like. all are worth playing and like also listen the second friends and family heard i was making a timeloop game, i got bombarded with timeloop media recs. so here is a sampler in no particular order! NOTE: knowing some of those games are timeloop games is a spoiler. but. you are here. for timeloop games. so timeloop games you shall have

Outer Wilds

If you need to play one timeloop game, it's this one. Please play it blind. I swear to god you won't regret it. it's timeloops in space!!! it makes you think!!! there are so many "HOLY SHIT WAIT I GET IT NOW" moments!!! please just go play it please please please. some of the best environmental storytelling in a game. so many hints in plain sight. JUST PLAY IT

[way more timeloop games under the cut]

Oxenfree

I didn't actually like Oxenfree very much. But also it stayed in my mind for weeks after I finished playing it. that's how you know it's a good game. I really enjoyed the dialogue system in this, and how much the loop affected the characters. and it got so spooky!!!

Hikeback

i'm in the credits for this one because i was one of the inspirations heehee <3 i loved playing it… short little game about trust, self-sabotage, and never-ending cycles. highly recommend it

The Stanley Parable

Listen babes it absolutely counts. I replayed it a bunch while making ISAT, and I got immensely inspired by the dialogue, and how it catches you off guard sometimes? You get SO SO used to the narrator's "All of his coworkers were gone. What could it mean?" at the start of every game, and then for no reason instead it says "A soft wind blew outside and perhaps rain started, and if it did it stopped shortly after. Stanley hoped that he would one day see weather." like WHAT THE FUUUUCK IM GETTING CHILLS JUST THINKING ABOUT IT

12 minutes

ok i know we all made fun of this game when it came out because the story is batshit insane HOWEVER!!!!!!!! i REALLY REALLY LOVED how doing the same actions multiple times would have slightly different outcomes. If you battle someone, the first time you get knocked out in one hit and the loop restarts. the second time you try, you evade the first hit, but get knocked out. the third time, you last a little bit longer, and a little bit longer, until you can pretty much hold your own against your enemy. And it applies to so many things in this. Retrying different things to see how they would change was a delight.

this game is also so bad its almost good, and if you're interested you HAVE to play it with friends so you can yell about how bad it is together.

Zero Escape

it's just a good series ok. escape rooms, and also time loops! the 3rd game in particular goes deep into The Math of how timeloops would work, which i think is interesting. sometimes timeloop games just go "yeah you can timeloop dont worry about it" and others go "OK HERE'S THE HOW AND WHY IT WORKS" and both are interesting!

START AGAIN: a prologue

this game has almost everything i could wish for in a timeloop game. depression. lines repeating. dying brings you back. you get new levels and skills because you're aware of the loops but your party members don't. so you get overpowered next to them and they Notice. just. party members who dont know about the loops still noticing something is wrong. you are acting differently than yesterday. you look sad. you are acting weird. you know too much. how did you know where the keys were? how did you know this would happen? what's wrong? talk to us. and oh my god this game has a sequel? which will probably have Actually Everything i could wish for in a timeloop game? i can't wait. who made this? (its me i made this)

Ghost Trick

ok its not really time loops and more time travel and only for 4 minutes HOWEVER!!!! you should play it. you know you should play it because everyone says so. so go play it

Elsinore

im sure its a great game but ive never seen/read hamlet. so thats a failing on my part. because. you absolutely need to know hamlet to understand this game lol i did like the whole "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop"! very fun. or it would be. if i. knew. hamlet

The Forgotten City

a friend kept recommending it to me and i didn't like it. its good! just not for me. but if you like to think a lot you should play it. another "make sure to find out which events are Important and which ones aren't so you can have The Perfect Loop" game

Gnosia

Gonna be real. I didn't like the story very much, in part because the game lets you choose your gender but still acts like youre a straight dude. HOWEVER the gameplay was very inspiring to me. Every loop is pretty much just an among us meeting, and you have to find out who the imposters are or everyone dies and you loop again. and sometimes you ARE the imposter, so you need to make sure no one finds out. or you loop again. rules get added as time goes on too. i REALLY loved how quickly the loops stacked up. seeing "loop 100" was such a nice moment. ive been here so long! i tried to recreate that somewhat for my own game…

Loop Hero

Technically not a timeloop game, but a loop game. It still absolutely counts because it's about loops and memories, and what are loops and memories together if not a timeloop. You have your little guy going through a closed loop, battling enemies, getting cards, and making the world whole again by using those cards to make forests, towns, lakes come to life. I am famously a Story First Gameplay Second kinda player, but I did play this 45h for the gameplay alone. I learned a lot about battle balancing and randomness by playing this!

You and Me and Her: A Love Story

you know doki doki litterature club? this came before. and one might say. it's. better. in some parts (and i say that as someone who LOVED ddlc!) i won't say much except it's a dating sim but with timeloops. with a lot of what it implies. why are you dating this girl a second time? a third time? a fourth time? choose another one already! it was such a fascinating game to play, and is incredibly meta in the way it talks about dating sims and visual novels. had a lot of very impactful moments however, i played the hentai version. some of the worst, most cringy sex ive ever read and heard. however, one might say the sex is an integral part of the game and its deconstruction of hentai/dating sims…? no. just play the steam version which doesnt have the horrible sex scenes and you will have a great time i think (or play the hentai version. if you like. to watch. horrible sex scenes???)

Higurashi

knowing this is a timeloop game is a massive spoiler. however, this game is more than a decade old, so,,, honestly if you havent played higurashi what are you doing. i know i just spoiled you on it but i was also spoiled on it and i can GUARANTEE YOU that you will still have an amazing time. one more thing. you gotta play with the original sprites or you're a fake fan

I Was a Teenage Exocolonist

starts as a visual novel/management sim/dating sim kinda thing, until you realize that every replay is a new timeline. so the main character can save people, because they remembered about them dying in a previous one. i wish the timeloop would affect the game/story more (let me find a certain character quicker once ive found them in a previous playthrough!!!), but timeloop aside, it's a very fun game to play!!!

that's it! hope you will find a nice timeloop game you like

[starkwlkr]

she’s always a woman | max verstappen

an: this fic is a special birthday fic for my lovely friend anto!! happy birthday love!! hope you enjoy your special day <3 also let’s just pretend that lewis wasn’t battling max for the championship in 2021 instead it’s max and the reader

tw: jos mention and narcissistic mother

Max couldn’t really remember why your friendship ended. He was always there when you needed a shoulder to cry on, when you had a bad race and needed some support, etc. He was always there so when you stopped talking to him, he was confused and hurt.

KARTING DAYS

At the time, the boys you raced against hated being beat by a girl. It was humiliating! A girl was faster than them? No way! But when Max Verstappen saw how fast you were, he was amazed. You made it look so easy.

“How many trophies do you have now?” Seven year old Max asked you as you two shared a bag of gummy bears, your favorite snack.

“I haven’t counted. What about you?” You questioned.

“I haven’t counted either.” He replied.

It was a long day of practice and all Max wanted to do was spend time with you and eat gummy bears. He noticed how you only ate certain colors like red, blue, orange and yellow. He asked why only those colors and your response was that those colors were your favorites, all the other colors looked unappetizing.

Spending time with you was something Max loved about karting. Most of the boys you competed with would rather lose than hang out with a girl, but not Max. He liked being around you. And it seemed like you liked having Max around too so it made no sense to Max why you stopped talking to him.

As time went on, Jos Verstappen kept a close eye on you. He certainly didn’t want some girl distracting his son. He kept telling Max how much of a bad influence you were, but of course Max didn’t listen. Why would he? He liked you and you liked him.

Unlike Max, your mother’s words went to your head.

“He’s just like the other boys, sweetheart. When you least expect it, he’s going to leave you heartbroken.” Your mother told you one day after another successful win. She watched the way Max stood next to you on the podium and clapped for you.

“But he’s my friend.” You said lowly.

“What did I say about this sport? You are not here to make friends, they are not your friends and neither is he. He’s competition and if you want to keep winning then you need to keep away from that boy!”

The next time Max saw you, he was the heartbroken one. Every time he kept trying to get your attention, you ignored him and turned the other way.

Did I do something wrong? Maybe I forgot her birthday? No, it was a month ago and we ate chocolate cake together.

All day Max was wondering what he did to make you upset. He had even brought a tiny bag with only red, blue, orange and yellow gummy bears for you. He had spent an hour picking out your favorite gummy bears and now you weren’t talking to him. . .

Little Max Verstappen had his first heartbreak at the hands of his first love.

The next day he figured you would start talking to him, but it was like he didn’t even exist in your world. He was starting to lose hope.

“Good, now you won’t have any distractions.” Jos told him after Max mentioned how you had stopped talking to him.

“But she wasn’t!”

“She was.” Jos confirmed.

Max stayed quiet. He knew it was no use trying to argue with his father.

As you both grew up, Max was beside you at every podium even if you weren’t on speaking terms. He hoped that maybe one day you would speak to him. He also kept a plastic bag in his bag with your favorite gummy bears to share with you in case that day ever came.

2021 SEASON

Max was both nervous and excited for the last few races of the season. Both you and him were battling for the championship. It was like a dream come true for him, both of you in Formula 1 and now you’re both in the championship picture. He wouldn’t have it any other way. To Max, it would’ve been better if you could at least acknowledge him.

It was after the Brazilian Grand Prix when Max wanted to congratulate you on your win, but had to wait until you finished with your interviews. He was eager to talk to you.

The post-race interviews were a whirlwind, but the moment that caught your attention was when a reporter, eager for a headline, asked you about Max Verstappen.

“We've heard that you and Max were childhood friends. What’s the story there? You two seem to be fierce competitors now. Was there any friendship left between you, or is it all business these days?"

Your smile tightened. It was the last thing you wanted to discuss, but you were a professional, and you knew better than to let your personal life spill over into the press room. Your gaze flicked to the corner where Max was conducting his own interviews, but you quickly refocused on the question.

“Max and I... we were friends, sure," you said coolly, your voice steady but your tone sharp, almost as if you were trying to distance yourself from the memory. "But that was a long time ago. I don’t really have time for friendships anymore. Racing’s my focus. It always has been."

“But you were so close back then," the reporter pressed. "Is it hard to battle him for the title, given your history?"

You shrugged, trying to maintain your composure. "Racing's not about who you used to be friends with. It’s about who’s the best right now. And I’m focused on being the best."

“So, no hard feelings?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You didn’t miss a beat. "No time for feelings," you replied, your lips curling into a faint, almost imperceptible smile. "Just results."

After finishing all your interviews, you walked back to your driver’s room. All you wanted was to lay down and take a much needed nap, but the sweet voice of a Dutchman stopped you. It had been years since you heard Max say your name.

Before you could say anything, Max stood up abruptly and walked toward you, his stride purposeful. He reached out, grabbing your arm with a firm grip, pulling you into your room without a word.

“Let go of me, Max," you whispered, but your voice cracked.

“No," he said simply, his tone rough, but his eyes were soft—something in them that you hadn’t seen in years. "I’m not letting you walk away again."

Your heart skipped a beat. His eyes searched yours, that fierce intensity you remembered from your childhood still present, though now mixed with something else—pain, perhaps. The unspoken hurt you both carried for so long hung between you two.

“Max," you began, but he cut you off.

“Why did you stop talking to me?" His voice was quieter now, but the question hung in the air, sharp and urgent. “Everyday i asked myself ‘did I do something wrong? Did I say something that hurt her?’ What is is? Why?”

Your throat tightened. You took a shaky breath, your eyes lowering to the floor. "You were my competition," you muttered. "And my mother… she made it clear. She said you would take everything from me. That I needed to stop talking to you or I’d lose everything." Your chest constricted, and you felt a sudden wave of bitterness rise within you. "She said you were nothing more than a threat to my future, and I had to focus—focus on winning.” It pained you to even remember all the talks your mother had with you about Max.

Max stared at you for a moment, taking in your words. The silence that followed was thick, the air between them charged with everything unspoken. Then, slowly, he stepped closer.

“I never wanted to take anything from you." His eyes were filled with a quiet sincerity that made your stomach twist. "I never asked for this. I never asked for us to be enemies."

Your breath hitched as a knot formed in your chest. You stepped back, your hands trembling. "But that’s what she wanted. She wanted me to beat you, to prove I was better. To make sure you didn’t have what I could have." Your voice cracked, the words tumbling out in a flood of emotion you had long kept hidden. "I—"

Your words faltered as you felt the familiar sting of tears threatening to fall. You tried to hold them back, but the weight of it all—the pressure, the competition, the years of silence—was too much. You turned away, pressing your palms to your face, feeling the dam break inside you.

Max didn’t hesitate. He stepped forward, his arms enveloping you in an instant. You stiffened at first, surprised by the warmth and steadiness of his embrace. For a moment, you couldn’t breathe, couldn't think. But then, something inside you snapped, and you collapsed into him, your body shaking as the tears finally came.

Max didn’t say anything. He didn’t need to. He just held you, his hand gently rubbing your back, grounding you in the moment.

"I’m sorry," you whispered between sobs. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry.” You kept repeating.

His grip tightened ever so slightly, as if offering you the comfort and understanding you had been denied for so long. "You didn’t deserve any of that." You clung to him, unable to stop the flood of emotions that had been building for years.

Eventually, the tears slowed, and the sobs turned into shallow breaths. Max didn’t let go. He stayed, a quiet anchor, as if he would hold you for as long as you needed.

When you finally pulled back, your eyes were swollen, your makeup smudged, but you felt something lighter—something like relief, like a door you hadn’t realized was closed had finally opened.

“Does your dad know you’re here?” You wiped away the tears.

“I don’t really care about him right now,” Max responded. He took your hand and brought it up to his lips, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand. “You need me right now.”

“Max, I don’t want you to get in trouble. You need to leave.”

“I’m a grown man. He can’t tell me who I can and can’t talk to.” He said.

“Then . . . I don’t care what my mother says either,” You declared. “You know, she said we couldn’t talk anymore because you were my competition. That I shouldn’t get too close to you. She thought it would make me weak."

“Your mom never understood that... you’re not my competition. You never were. You were my best friend. And I . . . I miss that.”

“I’m not going anywhere, Max.”

QATAR

The camera lights flickered on, and the usual hum of the media circus surrounded Max Verstappen as he sat in front of the press. Another victory under his belt, but the atmosphere in the room felt different today—slightly more tense than usual. The 2021 season was in full swing, and the rivalry between Max and his childhood best friend and fellow F1 driver, had become one of the most talked-about stories of the year.

“Max, earlier this week, someone that you knew quite well was quoted saying, ‘No time for feelings, just results,’ when talking about your past friendship. Given the intensity of your current rivalry, how do you feel about that statement?”

He took a breath and leaned forward, his voice steady but laced with an undeniable undercurrent of emotion.

“she’s one of the most focused and driven people I know. I don’t think anyone truly understands what it’s like to be in her head—how much racing means to her. She’s an artist, in every sense of the word, when it comes to driving. She doesn’t do anything halfway.”

A brief silence fell over the room. Max seemed to weigh his next words carefully.

“We’ve both been through a lot over the years, and yeah . . . I get why she said what she did. This sport can make you say things you don’t always mean. It can make you choose things—like cutting ties with people who used to be your family, just so you can win. But trust me, it’s not easy for her. Or for me.”

His voice softened slightly, the edge of competition giving way to something more genuine—something rooted in your shared history.

“She’s not the kind of person to just forget about things or people. I know her better than anyone,” He continued. It was as if he could talk about you all day and never get bored. “As for the championship, yeah, It’s just the way it is. But that doesn’t change the fact that I respect her more than anyone. She’s a hell of a driver, and I know what she’s capable of.”

Max leaned back slightly, the cool exterior of the driver once again overtaking his emotions. He was a fighter. And this season, he wasn’t just fighting for the title.

ABU DHABI

It had been weeks since your last conversation with Max, but occasionally you would sneak glances at each other. Maybe even smile at him, which caused the media to wonder if your friendship had finally been restored.

The paddock was bustling with the usual pre-race energy—team members darting around, engineers checking telemetry, and drivers preparing for what would be a pivotal race. But Max Verstappen was not focused on the usual chaos. He was standing in front of your motorhome, his jaw clenched as he faced a woman who had been an obstacle in his life for far too long: you mother.

All he wanted to do before the race was to wish you good luck but he had one problem that came in the form of your mother.

“This is a pivotal moment for her career, Max. The championship is on the line. She needs to focus.” Your mother spoke.

Max’s eyes narrowed. “She doesn’t need you to tell her how to focus. She’s not a child anymore. She’s not your puppet.”

She smirked, her gaze calculating. “Oh, I know exactly how to handle her. You, on the other hand, have always been a distraction. Just like you were when you were kids. I told her back then that you were competition. And look where we are now—competing for the championship.”

Max took a step forward, his voice low but sharp. “You don’t get to control her anymore. She doesn’t deserve the way you treated her. She never did. She’s not some tool for you to use to further your own agenda. She’s a person. A damn good one, too.”

Your mother raised an eyebrow, her lips curling into a smug grin. “And now you think you have feelings for her? After all these years? You’re wasting your time, Max.

Max’s chest tightened, a sudden rush of frustration coursing through him. He had always felt something for you—something deep and complicated—but he hadn’t realized how much until he saw you again. How could he not? The way you made him laugh, the way you understood him in a way no one else did. The way your presence grounded him when the world felt chaotic.

“I’m not wasting my time,” Max snapped, his voice rising. He was no longer just angry; there was something more vulnerable beneath his words. “I... I care about her. More than you’ll ever understand. And I’m not going to just stand by and watch you tear her down again.”

Her eyes widened, the smugness on her face faltering for just a moment. She hadn’t expected that. But she quickly recovered, her icy demeanor back in place. “You think you can just waltz in and change everything, Max? You think she’s going to forget the way I’ve always looked out for her?”

Max’s pulse was racing now. “You’ve never looked out for her. You’ve held her back. You’ve made her feel like she couldn’t trust herself. Do you know how many times she’s questioned her worth because of you?”

Before your mother could reply, Max spoke again. “If you think for a second that I’m going to back off now, you’re wrong.”

Your mother glared at the Dutchman. “I’ve spent years in Formula 1, fighting for every ounce of respect, and now I’m fighting for her, too. And I’m not letting anyone—least of all you—tell me what I can or can’t feel about her.”

His words hung in the air between them, the weight of them settling in. He turned to leave, but paused at the door of your motorhome, looking back one last time.

“Tell her,” Max said, softer now, “Tell her I’ll be waiting at the finish line. I’ll always be waiting.”

Maybe your mother would pass on the message, maybe not. Either way, Max would still be waiting for you.

The roar of the crowd still echoes in the distance, but it’s muffled, almost surreal, as you stand behind the barriers, your helmet under your arm, heart still racing from the intensity of the race. The buzz of the paddock feels far away, and your body is heavy with exhaustion and disappointment. You finished second—close, but not close enough. Max had done it. He’d won the championship, after all the drama and all the battles that had led them to this final, decisive moment.

You lift your eyes and see him, standing by his car. Max, in his usual composed way, looking like he belongs there, like he's always belonged there, standing among the team and the media, all his focus, all his attention fixed on you. A smile tugs at the corner of his lips when he spots you, but it’s the way he’s standing, waiting, that hits you. Like he said he would.

You hesitate for a moment, thinking about your mother’s words, about everything that has always been said about Max—his arrogance, his rivalry, the fact that he’s always been competition. But this, here, this feels like something different. He’s not the enemy anymore. At least, not in the way they used to think of each other.

You take a breath, and then, almost instinctively, you walk toward him. As you step closer, you hear the whisper of her mother’s voice in the back of your mind, a warning you’ve heard so many times before. Stay focused. Don’t let him distract you. He’s your competition, not your friend.

But your steps don’t falter. You reach him, and when you do, you look up at him, your gaze soft, not the hardened competitive stare it once was. Max’s grin deepens, though it’s filled with something almost bittersweet.

“I heard you were waiting for me,” You said, the words slipping out before you can stop them. Your voice is steady, but there’s a touch of vulnerability in it, something you can’t quite mask.

Max’s eyes soften, and for a moment, it feels like time pauses. He looks at you as if he’s not seeing the driver, the fierce competitor, but the girl he used to know—the one he used to race against in karting, the one who once shared the same dream, the one who still, in some ways, understands him better than anyone else.

“I told you I would,” he replies quietly, his voice low and calm. “I wasn’t going anywhere.”

Your mind flashes back to the words he said to your mother, the promise he made—I’ll always be waiting.

“You won. Congratulations.”

Max’s expression doesn’t change, but there’s a certain warmth in the way he looks at you, a quiet understanding that goes beyond just racing. He takes a step closer, his voice a little softer now. “You’re better than you think. I have a feeling you’ll take it away from me next year.”

You shake your head, but there’s no bitterness in your gesture. “Next year,” you repeat. Your fingers press the edge of your helmet tighter, almost like you’re grounding herself in this moment. But there’s something else too—a sense of peace you haven’t felt in a long time. “Maybe. But I’m just glad you’re here.”

Max’s smile is genuine now. “I’ll always be here. Waiting for you to finally beat me.”

You laugh—a real laugh this time, one that’s not forced. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that one day,” you say, your voice a little lighter. “You should go with your team, I’m sure they’re waiting to drown you in champagne.”

Max chuckles, then steps forward. For a moment, it’s just the two of you, standing in the midst of the chaos, everything else fading into the background. You breathe in, realizing just how much this—this moment—matters more than the championship itself.

“So, Max, you’ve just won the title, but there’s a lot of talk about your competitor. She’s been called ‘too emotional’ in the past by some. What’s your take on how she handled this title fight?”

Max turns towards the reporter, a protective energy surging in him. He absolutely hated doing interviews, all he wanted to do was get back to you. “Well, for one, I think anyone who says she’s ‘too emotional’ is clearly not paying attention. She’s one of the most focused drivers out there. Honestly, anyone who thinks you can compete in this sport at the level we’ve been at, especially in the last few races, without being deeply passionate—well, they don’t understand what it takes.” He glances over at you, who’s trying to hide a smile while also looking frustrated with the question.

While you were a few feet away from him doing your own interview, you could hear Max. You tried hard to listen to the interview questions, but all you wanted to do was listen to what Max had to say.

“isn’t it a bit too much? The way she gets in her own head. She’s been—well, let’s just say, a bit of a perfectionist this season.”

Max shook his head, chuckling at the reporters words. “But, you know, that’s exactly why she’ll be winning a championship someday soon. I have no doubt about it, but I’m excited for the day she takes my championship away.”

Max could hear you burst into laughter at his words. His smile grew ten times bigger. “Seriously, though, she’s one of the most talented drivers I’ve ever known. she’ll steal the show when you least expect it. And maybe she’s a little bit hard to understand at times, but that’s exactly what makes her great.”

The reporter nodded. “Are you saying she’s like, uh, the Billy Joel song?” He asked confused.

Max grinned, clearly amused by the confusion. “She’s always a woman to me. Maybe I’m not the best person to explain it, but you get the idea.”

You chuckled once again as you heard Max. He really had a way with words.

“And one day, I’ll be watching her take the title with the same respect I have for her right now.”

That’s when you decide to step in after finishing your interview. “Maybe, Max. But for now, I think I'll let you have your moment. You’ve earned it.”

“We both did. I owe it all to you.”

[tea-writes19]

lightning and rainbows | j.t.

pairing: joaquin torres x shy!reader

summary: sam & bucky ask for your help on a mission, leaving you smitten and in love with joaquin torres

w/c: 658

warnings: reader can control the weather, fluff, slight angst?, reader being insecure abt powers, social anxiety, swearing, joaquin being a lovesick cutie, pre-relationship, tfatws spoilers obvi

a/n: based on this request! lowkey misread the request so it's pre-relationship instead of established. So sorry nonnie, but i hope it still lives up to your expectations!! also lets not talk about how long this has been in my drafts okay...

When Sam and Bucky had asked for your help in stopping the Flagsmashers, you had been hesitant.

After the Battle for Earth, you had withdrawn from the superhero life. You had lost so many friends—no, family—that day, and you couldn’t see the point in continuing to save the world.

Yet here you were; sitting on the side of a German road waiting for Sam’s air force friend to come pick the three of you up after getting beat up by a group of super soldiers.

You sit between Bucky and Sam on the curb side as they bicker over the Flagsmashers and Walker and Sam giving up the shield. There’s a mini storm cloud over your head, drenching you in rain that you can’t control. Thunder sounding every time Sam and Bucky blame the other for something minuscule.

Your powers always went haywire whenever your emotions were running wild and the two bickering men on either side of you weren’t helping in your calm meditation practices that your therapist had given you.

When Bucky reaches across you to swing at Sam, You finally have enough. And without thinking you lay a palm against each of their chests, arms folded in an ‘x’ across your chest and sending a small bolt of lightning into both of them.

They go flying back in opposite directions, hair standing up and cursing. You jump up to apologize as you see the little strands of electricity crackling along Bucky’s vibranium arm and Sam begins ranting about his tech malfunctioning…

“Wicked…”

You whirl around at the sound of the voice, awe visible in it. There’s a flush to your cheeks as you notice Lieutenant Joaquin Torres leaning against a military issued jeep. His expression one of awe and wonder. He pushes off the driver side door, coming over to you as your mission partners gather their wits and clamber to their feet.

"That was awesome! Can you generate lightning strikes too?"

The flush on your cheeks deepens even more at his genuine excitement. You’ve always been self conscious of your powers. Never having been able to fully control them and the thundercloud above your head is a testament to that. You’re drenched to your core from the small rain cloud.

Yet Joaquin’s face stays full of childlike curiosity and excitement and your powers can’t help but to cause a little rainbow to form over the gray cloud, rain trickling to a sprinkle as you stutter out a response.

“I-I mean…I uh.” Sam cackles at your flustered state, both he and Bucky having forgotten their mini argument at the sight of you being reduced to a blushing school girl at the Lieutenant’s praise.

Joaquin just nods, little happy smile that makes him look like a golden retriever never faltering as he waits patiently for your answer.

“I-I can generate lightning strikes, b-but but I can’t really control it…” You trail off awkwardly, trying to calm your racing heart at the cute boy smiling so prettily at you.

His smile widens into a grin and he walks closer, seeming to not mind the light spray of rain and your soaking appearance. “That’s really cool! I wish I could zap Sam with lightning whenever.”

He says it with a light chuckle and you find yourself giving him a shy smile back. The rain from your storm cloud has slowed to a stop and the grey cloud fades as you stand before Joaquin. The rainbow staying much to Sam’s delight and your embarrassment.

Joaquin doesn’t notice or seem to put two and two together that the rainbow is because of him as he chatters on about how awesome your powers are and excitedly asks if you could show him more some time.

You can’t help but to fall a little in love with him at that moment in time. And you’re oblivious to how that feeling will only grow the more time you spend with the energetic Lieutenant…

© tea-writes19 do not repost, translate, or copy

taglist: @lottiewills @softpia

[mushroom-words]

Intertwining Souls || Poly!WolfStar

Fandom: Harry Potter (Marauders)

Pairing: Remus Lupin x Fem!Reader x Sirius Black

Words: 2054

Notes: As usual, I will fix the formatting once I get on my laptop. And I’d like to thank the lovely @daydreamandforget for not only finding amusement in the boys’ pesky little flea problem in my other work Pest Control but for also inspiring me to explore it a little bit more. Also, if anyone has any ideas or requests for this particular pairing, please feel free to drop them by me. I love Poly!WolfStar with my entire being but have been dreadfully unsuccessful in thinking of situations to write about.

Warnings: Light dom/sub elements. Pet names. Dom!Remus & switch!Sirius if you squint. Reader is referred to as a girl with she/her pronouns but all other descriptions are neutral. Polyamorous relationship (if that wasn’t already clear).

Summary: You’ve been neglecting your sleep to take care of everyone else. Just when Remus is finally able to care for you instead, Sirius tracks in a bigger problem.

YOU WERE READY to fall asleep right where you were. It was all very lulling—the crackling of the fireplace a few feet away, the scent of cinnamon and sandalwood, the gentle brush of his fingers against your temple, and the cadence of his voice reading aloud to you. Your eyes drifted closed as you let yourself be blanketed in the warm environment.

The last week was particularly draining for you. Between your duties with work and the Order, and caring for Remus through the lunar cycle, you were running on fumes. Your boyfriends were absolutely lovely when it came to helping you through the stress and exhaustion, but it was that certain type of fatigue that could only be nurtured away with time and patience.

Remus paused to check in when he felt your breathing even out. He smiled softly and swept some hair behind your ear to get a better look at your face. The worry lines had smoothed out, lashes delicately brushing your cheekbones, muted breaths pushing past your marginally parted lips as you slipped deeper into sleep.

He debated for a moment whether to let you rest a bit longer in his lap or risk waking you by carrying you to bed. He was just about to put his book down when the front door was prodded open, a black snout nosing it open to make way for the large dog to come indoors. The animal nudged the door shut before shaking himself of the light downpour that had started not five minutes prior to his return.

Remus sighed quietly. “Must you always do that, Pads?” he complained, though a fond note softened the cross tone. “We’ve talked about this.”

Shifting back into human form, the Animagus merely grinned at his boyfriend’s annoyance. “Y’know I can’t help myself, Moons. ‘S in my nature.”

The other man rolled his eyes but let it go. He knew well that with Sirius Orion Black, it was wise to pick your battles—and this wasn’t one he wanted to rehash with you trying to catch up on some well-earned rest.

“Nice run?” he asked, moving his hand to trace his fingers along your arm.

“Definitely.” Sirius absently scratched his head and made his way over to the overstuffed sofa. His eyes drifted to you, adoration softening his jovial expression. “Aww, look at her. Ain’t she just adorable, Moony?” he cooed.

“She is,” Remus agreed, watching as you sighed softly and shifted. “Careful—don’t wake her,” he warned when Sirius reached for you. “She just fell asleep.”

“I’m not gonna wake her.” Sirius grazed his knuckles down the contour of your cheek. Despite his promise, your lashes fluttered at the touch.

You nuzzled against Remus’ legs before prying your eyes open, blinking through the haze to focus on your boyfriend. A sleepy smile notched on your face. “G’morning, Siri,” you mumbled.

Sirius chuckled and bent to kiss your forehead. “It’s late, bunny,” he said. “We should get you to bed.”

“No, no. ‘M awake.” You slowly pushed yourself up, still blinking the sleep from your eyes. The boys chuckled affectionately at your tired state.

“Dove,” Remus cooed, using an arm to bring you into his side, smiling when you melted into him. “You’re exhausted. Let’s get you in bed, yeah?”

You shook your head, dropping it to rest on his shoulder. “Wanna stay with you,” you argued. “‘M not sleepy anymore.”

“Liar,” Sirius crooned, scratching at his head a bit more intensely. He wasn’t even aware he was doing it, but it caught the attention of his partners.

Remus lifted a brow. “You okay, love?”

“Hmm?” Sirius snapped his gaze to him, pausing before lowering his hand. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m good, mate.”

You frowned slightly, vision clearing a bit more as you eyed your boyfriend. His fingers twitched across his thigh like he was fighting the urge to scratch, curling and unfurling in increments.

You lifted your head from your other boyfriend’s shoulder. “Siri?”

“What’s wrong, sweet girl?”

Your attention was stolen away from his cautious expression by a small dark speck that abruptly appeared on the sofa. All traces of lingering sleepiness bled from your system when that little fleck jumped away. A twinge of irritation replaced it, breathing acuity into your mind.

Remus’ forehead creased as he tracked the movement. He snapped his attention back to Sirius, studying the way he shifted on the sofa, his nails digging into his trousers as he resumed scratching at himself. His focus honed into another tiny dot crawling on the sleeve of his jumper.

You pinched your lips together. “You have fleas. Again.”

Sirius’ eyes rounded, gaze darting away from you warily. “Don’t be silly, bunny. What makes you say that?” he asked.

“Well, if that wasn’t enough,” Remus said, gesturing towards where he was wildly scratching at his leg, “this,” he continued, reaching forward to pluck the pest with the tips of his fingers, “is enough proof, if you ask me.”

The flea wiggled around in the clutches of his fingers before Remus promptly rolled it between his nails, popping the exoskeleton with precision. He raised his brows at his boyfriend expectantly.

Sirius spluttered for a moment, heat flushing his cheeks. “Well—that’s—how do you know it’s from me?” he argued. “The full moon was two nights ago—it could’ve come from you, y’know! Or—or maybe…”

He trailed off as he clocked the pointed looks from both of his partners, neither you nor Remus particularly amused.

“Okay, fine!” He threw his hands up in the air before scratching at his neck. “I have fleas! It’s to be expected from time to time!”

Remus sighed and stood from the sofa, grabbing the other man’s arm. “C’mon, love. We’re taking care of it before it gets worse.”

He hauled Sirius up and started dragging him towards the bathroom. You watched with mild amusement as Sirius blanched. His fingers grappled at the wall, finding purchase near the doorframe. So dramatic, you mused to yourself with a heavy roll of your eyes.

“We? No, thank you.” Sirius jerked back, causing Remus to halt as his purposeful stride was interrupted. “I can bathe myself, thank you very much.”

You groaned at his theatrics and rose from the sofa. “Not in your Animagus form, you can’t,” you reminded him.

“Well, I won’t bathe in my Animagus form then, will I?”

“Padfoot,” Remus said sternly, though not without an affectionate lilt, “you know the flea shampoo won’t work otherwise.”

Sirius looked back at you as you sidled up to their stalemate, eyes wide and imploring. “Bunny, please, I’m begging you—don��t let him do this to me.”

You leveled him with a dour look. “I’m already gonna have to treat the flat and Remmy again in the morning,” you told him. “Get in the bath—or you can sleep in the garden tonight and we’ll bathe you in the morning anyway.”

A dark look of hopeless betrayal flashed in his gaze. “I can’t believe this,” he pouted. “You two are being unfair.”

Remus rolled his eyes. “C’mon, Pads. Let’s get it over with,” he encouraged, tugging Sirius away from the doorframe. “Dove, why don’t you go on to bed? We’ll be in as soon as he’s defleaed.”

Normally you might insist on helping wrangle the uncooperative Animagus into the tub, but now that you’d have to wake up earlier in order to get the flat in order, you knew it was probably best that you rested for the night. So you nodded your head, covering your mouth just as a yawn broke through, like your body knew that Remus had declared your bedtime.

“Sure, yeah, go right on to bed,” Sirius grumbled. “Pay no mind to my suffering.”

You gave a tired smile. “Your suffering will end once you’re not being eaten alive,” you countered, knowing he always felt better after a flea bath despite how difficult it was to wrestle him into one. “G’night, Siri. Love you.”

“Yeah, yeah. Love you too, bunny.” He continued to moan but couldn’t ignore the wave of affection when you pressed your lips to his in a sweet kiss.

“Sweet dreams, dove.” Remus, maintaining a firm grip on your disgruntled boyfriend, swooped down to kiss you goodnight. “And don’t wait up for us. You need to get some rest,” he added a bit more austerely, giving your bottom a solicitous pat to send you on your way.

You shuffled to your bedroom, looking forward to snuggling beneath the duvet and letting the plush mattress lull you into sleep. But as you settled into the empty bed, you knew you wouldn’t be able to actually kip down without your boyfriends. So you just closed your eyes and listened to their scuffling while you waited.

“This is a cruel and unusual punishment. You’re a bloody sadist.”

“Oh, stop being so dramatic. It’ll be quick.”

“Why don’t you ever have to take flea baths?”

“Because they don’t make baths big enough for werewolves, Pads. Go on then.” A soft laugh interrupted the bickering. “No, kissing me won’t change my mind. Get in.”

“I’ll never forgive you for this.”

“You’ll live, I’m afraid.” A few seconds ticked by, followed by a teasing, “That’s a good boy.”

An indignant, grumbling bark was the response.

You huffed out a fond giggle and rolled over onto your side. Your eyelids felt heavy against your sockets, like you wouldn’t be able to reopen them even if you tried, but sleep evaded you just as you predicted. It was quite pathetic really—you’d become so accustomed to having at least one of your boys with you as you slept that it was nearly impossible to sleep without their warmth curled around you.

It was one of many silly little side effects of loving so deeply your souls intertwined. A love so deep that it completed you, spilling into the pits denting your heart and filling them to the brim and then some. You honestly hadn’t known you could love another person quite so much until the boys graciously showed you.

You’d lost track of time as you lied there mulling over the ridiculous way you continued to fawn over your partners like a schoolgirl with a crush. You were snapped back into reality by the low murmurs and footsteps entering the bedroom.

“You think she’s asleep?” Sirius whispered.

“Hopefully,” Remus replied quietly. “She’s been exhausted.”

“Sweet girl’s running herself ragged.”

Muted shuffling around the space told you they were dressing down for the night. Then, slowly, the bed dipped on either side of you as they finally joined you. Remus settled at your back, draping a gentle arm around your torso and pulling you into his chest, while Sirius crawled to lie facing you, slender fingers running through your hair tenderly.

You sighed contentedly and let a small smile give yourself away.

Remus clicked his tongue when you shifted back against him. “You’re supposed to be asleep, dove,” he whispered, planting a few tender kisses to the slope of your neck.

“‘M supposed to be a lot of things,” you murmured, tilting your head up when you felt Sirius’ fingers glide down your jaw, “but I live to disappoint.”

The boys seemed to move in sync, free hands drifting down to pinch your hip and thigh affectionately. “Oi,” Sirius chuckled quietly, “that’s my job, bunny.”

You hummed and cracked your eyes open, peering at him through your lashes. “Feel better, Siri?”

“I will when you get some sleep.” He shuffled closer, kissing you sweetly, starting with a few on the lips and then traveling to the tip of your nose and finally your forehead. His hand squeezed your hip, thumb tracing idle circles against the curve.

Remus’ lips touched the back of your head. “We all will,” he murmured, tightening his hold on you until you were trapped between your boys—not like you ever wanted to be anywhere else.

You smiled again, sleepily letting your eyes flutter closed once more. “I love you.”

Sirius sighed softly, minty breath ghosting across your face. “We love you too. G’night, pretty girl. G’night, Moons,” he said, stretching over you briefly to kiss the werewolf before settling back again.

“Pains in the arse, both of you,” Remus mumbled fondly, voice low with a sleepiness that lulled you into tranquility. “Now shut up and go to sleep.”

[gianna-z-xdx]

His lips were warm. Desperate. Like he’d been waiting for this longer than he’d ever admit. You could feel it in the way his hands settled on your waist—strong, but gentle, like he was holding something precious. Like he didn’t want to break you.

You didn’t want to stop.

You didn’t know how long the kiss lasted—seconds, minutes, maybe more—but when he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, breath hot and uneven.

“This is a bad idea,” he muttered, his voice gravelly, more to himself than to you.

You swallowed hard. “Then why aren’t you walking away?”

His silence was answer enough.

He didn’t want to walk away.

And neither did you.

Simon leaned back slightly, searching your face like he was looking for regret—but there was none. Only flushed cheeks, parted lips, and the same thing he’d been trying so damn hard to ignore: want. Need.

He exhaled sharply through his nose, then turned and walked away—but only to the door. He reached out and locked it with a soft click.

Your breath caught.

The sound of that lock felt louder than any words.

When he turned back around, his entire posture had shifted. More tense. More certain.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” he said, voice low.

“But we are,” you replied.

He crossed the room in three strides, and the moment his hands touched you again, your body lit up like a match struck too close to gasoline.

This time, when he kissed you, it wasn’t hesitant.

It was fire.

Your back hit the nearest wall as he pressed into you, one hand braced beside your head while the other tangled in your hair, guiding your mouth to his like he’d die if you pulled away. You gasped against him, fingers grabbing at the front of his shirt, and he growled low in his throat—that sound sending heat straight through your spine.

His lips moved down to your neck, slow but deliberate, and you felt the scrape of his teeth as he mumbled against your skin:

“Tell me to stop.”

You didn’t.

You couldn’t.

Instead, your hand slid under his shirt, fingers brushing the hard lines of his abdomen, the scars etched across him like a map of every battle he’d fought—and survived. He shuddered under your touch, then pulled back just enough to look at you.

“You don’t know what you’re getting into with me,” he said hoarsely.

“Then show me,” you whispered.

His pupils dilated.

And that was it.

He spun you toward the bed in one motion, crowding you against the bottom bunk, the heat between you two nearly unbearable now. His mouth returned to yours with more hunger this time, more need, like he'd finally given in to every thought he'd buried for months.

The room was dim, the air thick, your heart threatening to beat out of your chest—and still, everything about it felt…right. Like this moment had been inevitable from the start.

But just as his hands began to roam further, exploring the skin beneath your shirt, his breath hitched and he stopped, forehead pressing to your collarbone.

“Shit,” he breathed. “I can’t… I want you. But not like this.”

You blinked, breathless and dazed. “Not like what?”

“Not in secret. Not with half my mind still in combat mode. You deserve more than just a fuck in a barracks room.”

His voice was rough. Sincere. Like it actually hurt him to stop.

Your chest ached with something deep, something unfamiliar.

“You’re not just a soldier to me,” he added, eyes locked on yours. “You’re not just someone I want to touch and forget about. You're in my head. All the time.”

You stared at him, heart hammering. “So what now?”

He exhaled again. Sat down on the edge of the bed and pulled you between his legs, resting his head against your stomach. His arms looped around your hips, holding you like he wasn’t ready to let go.

“You sleep,” he murmured. “And tomorrow, we talk about this. Properly.”

You threaded your fingers through his hair. “And until then?”

He looked up at you with eyes softer than you’d ever seen them.

“Until then,” he said quietly, “you stay here. With me.”

Hours later, you were lying beside him in the narrow bunk, bodies barely fitting, but neither of you caring.

You felt him before you heard him—the brush of his fingers against your hip under the blanket.

“Still awake?” he whispered.

“…Yeah.”

A beat.

Then: “You still want this?”

You turned to face him, barely able to see the outline of his face in the dark.

“Yeah.”

A pause. His hand slid up your back.

“Good.”

Because this time, he wasn’t going to pretend he didn’t care.

taglist; @quest4cabbage

@babygurl97

@brown-girl-szn

@s-a-v-a-n-a-34

@tessakate

@lillybunni

@astridminsstuffie21

[cheapshrimpysheep]

In the Backstage

SUMMARY: He invites you to watch the inter-school Battle of the Bands where the Pop Music Club will represent Night Raven College and compete with other schools, one of them being Royal Sword Academy. But unfortunately, they come in second place. He also gave you a VIP pass to visit him backstage after the competition.

CHARACTERS: Pop Music Club 🎼 (Cater Diamond / Kalim Al-Asim / Lilia Vanrouge)

TAGS: Fluff; GN Reader; Flirting; Kiss; Comfort

WORD COUNT: An average of 1.330 words per character.

COMMENTS: The Pop Music Club was the first club with the cards released and the first one I wrote something about. But nowadays, and compared to what I've written for other clubs, I thought it was worth writing something new and better. Especially for Cater, Kalim and/or Lilia fans.

I hope you enjoy it. 😉

OTHER CLUBS:

But… We Lost… - Basketball Club (Ace / Floyd / Jamil)

Romantic Experiment - Science Club (Trey / Rook)

For a Quarter of a Second - Track and Field Club (Deuce / Jack)

Unlucky Overtime - Spelldrive Club (Leona / Ruggie / Epel)

A Rainy Walk - Mountain Lover Club (Jade) / Gargoyle Studies Club (Malleus)

.

You are at another Unbirthday Party in Heartslabyul when Cater announces that there will be an interschool battle of the bands. The Pop Music Club will represent Night Raven College and compete with other schools including Royal Sword Academy.

The other Heartslabyul students didn't seem very confident that Cater and the others would win.

“Aww, come on...” Cater says disappointedly. “Why are you guys looking at me like that?”

“Well... some of us have already seen the few concerts you've given...” Trey says with that polite smile. “That and...” He smirks “We also know how much effort you guys really put into your club.”

“Auch, you are such meanies.” Cater says sadly. “Do you really have no hope in us?”

“I wouldn't say we have no hope. I do hope you win.” Trey simply says smiling.

“We all want Night Raven College to win, that's not even in question.” Riddle says. “But Trey is right. The three of you have already let it slip that you spend your meetings eating snacks and talking instead of practicing. And I've also seen one of your concerts.” He says with that disappointed face that looks like he's about to sigh. “If you truly want to win against Royal Sword Academy you will have to put in some real effort!”

“I should have known the conversation would go this way." Cater sighs as he plays with a strand of hair. “But you're right, Housewarden. I promise we'll do our best. Anyway, I wanted to invite you all. Ta-da!”

Cater takes five tickets out of his coat pocket and gives them to Trey, Riddle, Ace, Deuce and finally you. “Front row! The best seats!”

“Hey! What about me?!” Grim complains.

“You both count as one student, so you only need one ticket. Isn't that cool?” Cater explains.

Both Ace and Deuce say they believe in Cater and the others to win. Ace because he's a bootlicker and Deuce because he's just that naive. As Grim begins to focus more on the food than on you, Cater gets closer.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan~” He whispers to you. “You're going to root for me, aren't you~? I got you a special ticket.” He discreetly passes you another paper that said ‘VIP pass’. “You can meet me backstage after the concert if you want. You will make Cay-kun very happy if you do~” he winks.

Cater was really happy to see you in the audience, in the seat he arranged for you, along with the other Heartslabyul students. During the NRC song he looked at you many times.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time, they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

The performance really went well, their best concert so far. But... unfortunately... Royal Sword Academy was better. At least for the jury who gave them first place, while Night Raven College got second... as always.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and both Trey and Riddle told you that you could leave Grim with them while you went to check on Cater. They could tell that he had worked hard and might be a little down from losing to RSA. They also agreed that you would be the best person to cheer him up if needed.

Using your VIP pass, you entered backstage and passed Kalim and Lilia in the hallways. Kalim was happy to have made it this far to the point of being ranked second among so many other schools with talented students and so was Lilia. But Lilia whispered to you that perhaps Cater would be more cheer up if you went to see him in their dressing room.

You do so and Lilia and Kalim head outside to meet up with the others. When you arrive in front of the door that Lilia indicated to you, you knock on it and tell Cater it's you. He casually asks you to wait just a second, and only then does he open the door for you.

“Hey, (Y/N)-chan~” Cater greets you with his signature smile. “I'm glad to see you using the VIP pass I gave you. I hope you enjoyed our show.”

You tell him you loved it and how it was the best they've ever done, at least compared to what you've seen.

“Aw, you’re so sweet~. We really tried hard this time. It was difficult to convince Kalim and Lilia to take this a little more seriously, but they did it for the school. Ha ha... It's just a shame we didn't win.”

“But you did won.” You say. “Second place at least.”

“Yeah... Second place... You’re right! We won one of the best places and I'm really happy about that. All our training was worth it!” He says with a big smile. “We should go celebrate with the others.”

But you don't move out of his way so he can go through the open door. You knew that was his happy mask and you wanted to talk to him alone, to try to get him to be honest with you.

“Before that, I liked to see your dressing room. I never saw what one actually looked like in real life.” You tell him.

“Oh, it's a little small for three people, but it's actually pretty cool. Come in, I'll show you.”

You walk in and close the door behind you, which Cater doesn't find strange. He shows you the dressing tables that they used to put on their makeup, the instruments that still needed to be stored in the boxes, the cart where their clothes were, etc.

“Cater...” You say almost interrupting him. He looks at you. “I know you're not doing so well. Lilia knows you're not doing so well. Riddle and Trey knew you might be a little sad after all your effort. You can be honest with me.”

“You're all so sweet to worry about Cay-kun so much. But I'm fine, I promise.” He smiles and winks at you.

“Okay. Then give me a hug.” You say, opening your arms.

He's taken a little aback and says that you're really cute, but that he's actually fine. However, you don't low your arms and say that you want to give him a hug to congratulate him on his performance. He sighs and ends up accepting.

He starts by giving you a hug like he always does. But then, the hug becomes a little tighter and more sincere.

“I’m sorry...” He whispers, close to your ear and with difficulty. “...I did my best...” His words were almost inaudible.

You hug him tighter and tell him that you know, that everyone knows, and that it's okay to be sad about not winning first place. You also tell him he can stay there with you as long as he wants until he feels better. Actually better.

This makes him hug you tighter.

“I don't want to waste your time.” He whispers again, as if at the same time that he wants to say it, he doesn't want you to hear it.

“You're not.” You whisper back to him. “You're never.”

He asks again if you really thought he acted well and you are sincere in saying yes and that he can ask whoever he wants, everyone will say it was their best performance. After some time, he breaks the hug and discreetly wipes away a little tear that you hadn't even realized that he had shed.

“Ha ha. This isn't very cute, is it?” He says.

“You are always very cute.” You reply, cupping his face.

“You too.” He smiles and places his hands over yours that you placed on his face. “Do you know what would really make me feel a lot better?”

You smile, showing that you probably know. You move closer to him and he moves closer to you in response, until you kiss. You feel his smile on your lips and then his hands on your back to bring you closer.

“(Y/N)!!!” You hear Kalim's voice shout, approaching, running behind you.

You were in the hallway, in the break between classes with Grim, Ace and Deuce. You turn around and Kalim stops in front of you, tired but with his huge sunny smile on. As he catches his breath, you see Jamil running towards you with that stressed look on his face. Kalim probably started running all of a sudden when he saw you.

“(Y/N)! There's going to be an interschool battle of the bands!” Kalim tells you. “And we're going to compete. You have to come see us!”

“The Pop Music Club will compete for Night Raven College.” Jamil explains. “And the members can invite any students they want to the front rows of the audience.” He took three tickets out of his hoodie pocket and gives one to Ace, one to Deuce and one to you.

“Hey! What about me?!” Grim complains.

“Since you and (Y/N) are counted as one student, you only need one ticket to be able to go together.” Jamil explains.

“I'm so excited! Especially to see you in the audience.” Kalim tells you. “I’ll do my best to give you the best show ever!”

After all the classes, when you were already in Ramshackle Dorm, you hear someone knocking on the door. When you open it, you see Kalim and Jamil.

“Hey! I wanted to give you something else, but Jamil said it was better to do it when you were alone.” Kalim takes a ticket from his pants pocket, a different color from the others, and gives it to you. “It's a VIP pass. I would love it if you could come see us backstage after the competition.”

“If we had given you this ticket in front of the others,” Jamil says with that annoyed expression. “I can easily see Ace and Grim trying to convince Kalim to give them a VIP pass as well. Even though each member only has one VIP pass each to give to someone”

Kalim was so happy to see you in the front row, in the seat he had arranged for you, that he got distracted before they start playing, waving and smiling at you. Cater was the one who called his attention to come back to the drums.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

The performance really went well, their best concert so far. But... unfortunately... Royal Sword Academy was better. At least for the jury who gave them first place, while Night Raven College got second... as always.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and you took advantage of Grim being busy with the food to use your VIP pass to go see Kalim, Cater and Lilia backstage.

You found them in the hallway. The three of them were smiling and talking excitedly, and when Kalim saw you, his smile grew even bigger and he ran to you.

“(Y/N)! What did you think of our show? Did you enjoy it?”

He was as happy as if he had won first place. You should know by now that winning or not is not what's important to him. As you told them how much you enjoyed their music and how it was probably their best concert yet, Cater noticed something.

“Hey, Kalim, didn't you have a ring on each hand?”

Kalim looks at his right hand, which had a ring on the index finger. Then he looks at his left and sees that there is no ring. Kalim searches through his pockets until he remembers that he had taken off his rings to wash his hands and must have only remembered to put one back on. Cater tells him and you to go back to the bathroom or the dressing room to see if you can find it while he and Lilia go meet the others at the after-party.

On the way to the bathroom, the two of you started talking, about the music, the performance, the competition in general, other things that had nothing to do with anything...

In the bathroom Kalim looks for the ring, but came out saying that he couldn't find it anywhere, so maybe you should look in the dressing room. In the dressing room you look for the ring on the floor, since Kalim said he had sat on the floor packing some things. You find the ring under one of the dressing tables they used to put on makeup, give it to him and he puts it back on his finger. When he does this, you can see his nails better.

“Ooh, you noticed my nails! Yeah, they're gold with a tiger-stripe pattern. Cool, huh? I can help you do your nails like this too. It would be fun if we matched. OH! Speaking of which.”

He walks over to a large cardboard box that was in the corner of the room, opens it, and takes out a white t-shirt.

“Our matching T-shirts are custom-made, you know. We ordered more to sell as merch.” When he unfolds it and shows you the front, it's a t-shirt exactly like his. “Which is how we blew through what little budget we had.”

He walks back to you and hands you the t-shirt. It's a little bigger than the size you normally wear.

“Sorry, we only made one size. I think it was because it was cheaper. He he. It's the same size as ours.”

You thank him and say you're excited to trying it on, so Kalim turns around so you can swap shirts. As soon as you tell him you're ready, he turns around and smiles when he sees you wearing the same t-shirt as him.

“It looks so good on you!” Kalim looks at his hand which has the ring with a red stone. “Hey, try this too.” He takes off the ring from his index finger, comes closer to you and holds out his hand. “Can I?” he asks with a cute smile.

You place your left hand on his right hand and he instinctively puts the ring on your ring finger.

“Another gift for you. For being my best friend and best fan, Heh heh heh. I tried really hard today because I really wanted to make you proud. We didn't get first place, but second is also really cool, isn't it? I won for the school and for you.”

In the midst of so much joy, you end up hugging him to thank him for the gifts and to say that you agree that second place is incredible too. He hugs you back so happily that he even spins you around, making you lift your feet off the ground.

You knew that even if Kalim really liked you, he wouldn't just give you a kiss out of the blue. So you're the one who does it and kisses him on the cheek. He's surprised for a second, but then he kisses your cheek back.

“Even though this day is already amazing.” He says, still hugging you and his face is so close to yours that your noses are almost touching. “The best part is still celebrating with you.” He ends by saying in a lower, more affectionate tone. His eyes inviting you to kiss him again.

You do it, but this time on his lips. You feel his enthusiasm and love not only by the intensity of his kiss but by the way he hugs you tighter.

You were coming back from Mr. S's Mystery Shop, while Grim had stayed at Ramshackle Dorm out of laziness, when you comment to yourself something about the shopping bags being a little heavy.

“You should not be shy about asking a trusted colleague for assistance then.” Lilia says, suddenly appearing upside down.

You get startled and almost drop one of the two bags you were carrying, but Lilia catches it in time.

“You are carrying all these purchases alone? Allow me to be your cute little helper until arriving at Ramshackle Dorm.”

He puts his feet on the ground and walks with you. You ask him if there was any reason for him to be around.

“Do you mean any other than a simple, pleasant walk? Ku fu fu. Well, yes. I was looking for students to invite to the interschool Battle of the Bands. The Pop Music Club will compete for Night Raven College against other arcana academies. One of our enemies being Royal Sword Academy.” He says with that smug smile. “I have a special ticket for you and Grim in the front row, along with Malleus, Silver, and Sebek.”

Lilia makes a ticket appear in his hand and gives it to you. He also explains that since you and Grim are counted as one student, you only need one ticket to go together.

“However,” Lilia smirks. “I have in my possession another type of ticket, an even more special and exclusive one, that I intend to gift to you and only you. Have I piqued your curiosity?”

Of course you are.

“Khee hee hee, that is the spirit! Here.” He makes another ticket appear, different from the first one he gave you. “It is a VIP pass. You can visit us in the trenches after the battle. Or as they call it, backstage.” His smug smile returns. “It would be a great pleasure to celebrate our victory with you.”

Lilia spotted you first. When you saw him he was already looking at you smiling. But during the performance he gave as much attention to you as he did to his Diasomnia boys. If you want to be Lilia's biggest cheerleader, you'll have to compete with Sebek, or simply join him.

To your surprise and that of all the other students who had seen them perform before, this time, they were actually taking it seriously. They were having fun as always, but you could tell they had been practicing and were trying hard to win. Lilia didn't even try to do his scream vocals or throw himself into the audience. Okay, he pretended he was going to do it, but just to startle the people at the front of the stage, he didn't actually do it.

The performance really went well, their best concert so far. But... unfortunately... Royal Sword Academy was better. At least for the jury who gave them first place, while Night Raven College got second... as always.

There was a buffet for the guests after the competition and you took advantage of Grim being busy with the food to use your VIP pass to go see Lilia, Kalim and Cater backstage.

You found them in the hallway. They were smiling and chatting excitedly when they saw you. All three of them really wanted to know what you thought of their performance and you said that it was the best show of theirs that you had ever seen.

While the four of you are talking, Lilia has the feeling of having forgotten something. And then he realizes that he was missing one of the necklaces. He must have forgotten it in the dressing room and suggests that Kalim and Cater go meet the others in the after-party while asking you to go with him to help him look for the necklace.

The two of you go to the dressing room that was provided for the three of them and start looking for the necklace. You ask him if he remembers when he took the necklace off his neck, but... he doesn't. You see him making that sulky face. His biggest pet peeve was missing things and then looking for them, and remember this makes you giggle.

“Are you laughing at my misfortune?” Lilia messes with you. “I lose such an important item and the person I trusted to help me makes fun of my memory loss. How mean. You are so cruel. *snif*” He fake whines.

You know he's just messing with you and tell him that you just thought it was funny because you remembered that it was his pet peeve.

“Do you know what kind of necklace I am searching for?” He asks with a smirk. “It is a long chain with a tag, all made of stainless steel. It's called Dog Tag, or more precisely: Military Dog Tag. Nowadays, many young people use it for style, especially cool band members such as yours truly. But its origins date back a few decades, during a battle between humans, as a way to identify soldiers who were wounded or killed on the battlefield. That is why these tags usually have the names, ranks and even the blood type of the respective soldiers engraved on them. Quite interesting, don't you think?” He smiles casually.

You agree, but ask why he decided to tell you that at that moment.

“Fu fu.” He smiles smugly again, the raspberry red of his eyes piercing you. “You are able to understand why this necklace suits me, correct? Should you not be more careful when laughing at me?”

In response, you smile at him relaxedly and tell him that you trust him.

“Khee hee hee, I'm actually glad to hear that.” Lilia smiles sweetly at you and suddenly seems to remember something that made him bursts out laughing.

You ask what he was laughing at. What had he remembered?

“HA HA HA HA! My memory really is not what it used to be. After our song, I accidentally broke my chain. But Kalim said he knew someone who could fix it and make it look like new. I told him ‘I'm actually glad to hear that’ and he put it in his trouser pocket. Ha ha ha ha!”

So you were looking for something that wasn't even there. And neither Lilia, Kalim nor Cater remembered that. You laugh with Lilia.

“Oh well, at least this little mistake served to spend a pleasant time alone with you.” He smiles seductively, abruptly switching the mood. “You know, second place is as noble a position as first place, but...” he makes puppy eyes at you. “I am quite sad to have dishonored our school by losing again Royal Sword Academy. *snif* Oh, if a loving soul could soothe my sorrows.” He closes his eyes sadly, but opens one to look at you with a sly smile at the corner of his lips.

You chuckle and ask if a hug would help. He says yes and hugs you before you can change your mind.

“At least it was fun.” He says close to your ear. “And it was a good sight to see you rooting for me. You are such a cute fan~” He pulled his head away, but didn't break the hug and pressed his nose against yours, looking at you provocatively. “But I wonder what kind of fan you would like to be. Cater told us some... captivating stories. Fu fu~”

Your noses were touching, but he wouldn't move any further than that. He expected you to take the initiative from there. If you do, and kiss him, you will feel his smile on your lips and the type of his hug gradually changing.

If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX

[lilislegacy]

when i say percy is one of the only people in the world who will stand up to annabeth or call her wrong, i do NOT mean she’s a horrible person and he calls her out for being one. allow me to write a long incorrect quote scene to show you what i actually mean:

*in some battle, post-heroes of olympus*

annabeth, fiercely in control and leaning over a large map: okay, here’s what’s gonna happen, everyone. we are going to evenly distribute our forces and deploy them in successive waves. we must avoid further division to ensure that each wave remains strong and concentrated on the central target. we are going to systematically weaken their core. once their primary fleet becomes depleted, we will expand our focus to engage secondary targets. we will defeat brute force by gradually eroding their strength over the course of several hours. anyone got a problem with that plan?

everyone in the strategy tent, including the smartest children of mars and athena:

annabeth: that’s what i thought. okay so-

percy: actually, i do

*everyone’s eyes widen in surprise*

annabeth, raising her eyebrows: what do you mean?

everyone: *backing away slowly in fear of her wrath*

percy: i get what you’re saying, and usually you’d be exactly right. but i know these guys better than you do, wise girl. i’ve actually been here and fought a couple of them before. yes, they are insanely physically strong creatures, but you’re overestimating their intelligence and positioning. if we do what you’re saying, they’ll just pick us off little by little. we need to be quick and dirty. force their hand

annabeth, pinching the bridge of her nose: percy, you’re talking about a full frontal assault on their strongest point. that’s reckless. we’ll be outnumbered and overwhelmed.

percy, stepping closer to the map and pointing to the terrain: not if we use their terrain, which i personally know. if we concentrate our forces here and here, we can create the illusion of a weaker center. they’re crazy strong, but much more arrogant than you’re assuming. so knowing them, they’ll all focus on our main assault, assume they have us outnumbered, and put all their energy into trying to punch through. but if we’ve got our best fighters hidden in the valleys, instead of holding back, we can hit them from both sides once they commit

annabeth, her brow furrowing as she considers percy’s plan: we’d be baiting them into a trap. they’d think they’re winning, but the second they overextend, we surround them. they won’t see it coming because of the way their ranks are arranged.

percy: exactly

annabeth: it’s based off the assumption of their own tactical shortcomings, but… it’s brilliant. come here and show me all the pathways, and i’ll plan for the side attacks. do you have any advice there?

percy: nope, i need you for that part

*them working seamlessly together as everyone else stands around in shock*