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#But how did no one realize how confusing that would be
ilylovelyz · 3 days
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⍣ ೋ after the break up (prt 2)
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˚ · . kenma kozume, iwaizumi hajime, tsukishima kei, ushijima wakatoshi & atsumu miya (prt 1.)
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KENMA KOZUME — he feels really stupid. kenma does a lot after the breakup in order to distract himself. he buys more games, staying up until it's almost dawn. all of his attention goes into his video games and other devices that he completely stops taking care of himself subconsciously. it's only when he's lost almost 10 pounds is when he realizes how neglected he's become. it happened so fast it confuses him. why didn't you remind him to eat? or shower? oh.. right, it's because you broke up with him in the first place. still, he tries to forget. it's one night playing a game when he's dissociating randomly thinking about you does it all hit.
Super Mario Bro's plays in the background of his room. for once, his fingers are still but his eyes are locked on the pixilated screen in front of him. his eyes are red and dialted due to the bright screen contrasting to the dark dead of night. this game was very expensive, vintage and one of a kind—yet he's subconsciously stuck thinking about you.
did you know he thought about you so frequently? did you think the same of him? he drops the console, fishing his phone out from below him. his fingers tap on the keyboard, searching up your name into his contacts. he notices the last time you texted him was over a month ago. oh–, right. you broke up with him. right. kenma drops his phone back down, laying his face down into the same giant kirby plushie you bought him a long time ago.
a soft sniffle escapes through the thick material, mixing in with the almost taunting upbeat cartoon music.
IWAIZUMI HAJIME — your breakup was done on good terms. he was moving to the U.S., you were staying in Japan. neither of you knew the relationship wouldn't withstand such a long distance relationship so the relationship came to an end. the two of you still call and text over random things, but it's not like how things were before. time passes, and the two of you have less and less contact. iwaizumi is doing his weekly stalking of your Instagram when he realizes you've posted a photo of yourself.. but you aren't alone.
iwaizumi sighs with content when he's finally allowed to sit down, his legs sore from harsh muscle training. as always, he checks his phone. once he's finished going through his messages, ignoring almost everyone except his mom, he comes across your contact. the last you spoke with him was almost a year ago. he frowns, he wishes the two of you kept in contact, but you both were just so busy.
curiously, he indulges in his guilty pleasure and opens up instagram. as if on autopilot, he searches for your online handle. you both follow each other, but of course, never speak. he mindlessly scrolls through your highlights and posts, ending up on your most recent one. it's you. his heart flutters at the sight of you once more. even through a screen, you're still as beautiful as always. you're glowing and radiant as always.
his childish smile soon disappears when he realizes someone has their arm wrapped around you. a guy. a guy who is looking at you with the same loving look iwaizumi would give you long, long, ago. iwaizumi uninstalls the app shortly afterwards.
TSUKISHIMA KEI — he avoids you. he pretends you don't exist altogether. his heart cringes whenever he hears you around, regretting immensely when the two of you arranged your classes together in the previous year. it's childish. no, he's childish. especially because the breakup was more of his fault. still, he hides the fact that his heart is broken. he treats you like everybody else with such hate and bitterness, and only realizes how stupid he's being when it's too late.
"hey kei." you say, walking along aside the tall blonde. "do you want to work on the project together? sensei said that–," "i don't want to work with you." he says coldly. tsukishima doesn't even look to acknowledge you, staring straight forward as he walks. "o-oh, well i just y'know—" you stutter embarrassingly, "i just thought that because—" tsukishima finally stops in his tracks, swiftly turning to you, looking at you through clouded lenses.
"why do you keep on pestering me." his tone leaves you shocked. you can't even think of words to say, only able to let out incoherent stutters and mumbles. "all you do is stutter, it's annoying." tsukishima says nonchalantly, still looking at you with distain.
that seems to shut you up for now. tsukishima is relived when you do, if you talked to him anymore he probably would've accidentally spilled how he missed you. his relief is short lived when he sees the tears roll down your face and out of embarrassment, you quickly walk away from him. he's left standing still, gazing down at the floor. heart heavy and regretting.
USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI — he thinks he's alright but he doesn't realize he's distraught. he continues on with his life like normal, seemingly at peace and happy with whatever he's doing. but, he does have to admit, he's been feeling a bit more.. confused? more like agitated. outside of his calm demeanor to untrained eyes, he seems perfectly normal. but, to those who are close with them, they can see what's actually going on in that seemingly perfect head of his.
hazel eyes watch closely as you walk past. ushijima awaits for you to come up to him like normal, talk to him and pester him with a million questions once more. he hated when you pestered him, he wished you were more quiet and reserved... or did he? he's not sure. because now you are walking away from him, not saying a single word. hell, you barely acknowledge his presence. how do you not? he's everything you said catches your eye, tall and muscular build, with a handsome perfect face.
"y/l/n." he rumbles out. the boom of his voice finally catches your attention, finally spinning around to acknowledge him. you seem defensive, like a cornered cat, a single eyebrow quirking up at his call. "..ushijima-san?" his heart, for some reason, sinks into his gut with the formality use of his name. what happened to toshi? for once, his words are stuck in his throat and he struggles to come up with something to say.
seeing that he's yet to say anything, you hurry out of his presence, trying to be released from the gaze of the man you are forbidden to love. meanwhile, ushijima is realizing for the first time, that maybe he lost someone who he isn't fine with leaving.
MIYA ATSUMU — he's like a pitiful dog. he plays off the break up like it's nothing, even to your face, he just shrugged his shoulders and mumbled something under his breath and walked away. despite the two of you dating for a year, going through so many things together, hell, he even lost his virginity to you, but he still acts like it was nothing.. but everyone can tell it's not. much to his annoyance, even his twin brother tells him to take it easy following the break up. but he's fine. it was nothing. he definitely doesn't search for you in the crowd during his games, nor does he get the random pang of forgetfullness after school as if he should be waiting for you. he's fine.
a girl comes up to atsumu after his game, batting her long eyelashes and pouting her lips. "can i get your number?" she asks, making her voice as smooth as possible. atsumu blinks at her with a blank face before turning his back to her, ignoring her entirely. he ignores her whines and curses of embarrassment, his eyes scanning the emptying crowd.
"shes not here, 'tsumu." he hears a familiar voice say. atsumu snaps his head back to the direction of the voice, seeing osamu standing there with his hands in his pockets, eyes low and unamused. atsumu scoffs at his brother, "yah i know." the two of them wait in silence, but for what? what is he waiting for? suddenly, his ears perk up at a familar body frame, eyes darting to the source only to be severally disappointed with the sight of a person who looks like you, but isn't you.
"let's go home, 'tsumu." osamu says, walking past the blonde haired man. atsumu waits a couple more seconds, taking another quick scan of the crowd before he's hestiantly following his brother, shoulders low and eyes to the ground.
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rreids · 17 hours
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HIS SUNSHINE • S. REID X READER
implied fem reader (self-referential when talking about women but can be ignored); fluff; sunshine!reader x grumpy!spencer; spencer realizes he is in love with reader; implied years of friendship + building to this; kissing; promises; slight angst (crying, mild insecurity); reader has a fear of storms; ~1.5k
part of @reiderwriter's writing challenge using grumpy x sunshine; oh, oh; and libra (modified somewhat to fit the scene more)
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Spencer could feel your pulse calm as he rubs his thumb over your wrist. It was an odd sensation, someone physically relaxing under you and your attention. It wasn’t unwelcome, though, and he felt himself match his breathing to your slow exhales as you steadied yourself and your emotions. 
He brought his thumb up and wiped your tear stained cheeks, rubbing the skin gently. You lean into the touch, nuzzling into his palm. He felt like his heart might stop when you let out a soft sigh, eyes fluttering shut. He could smell your shampoo with you this close, a coconut smell and a hint of vanilla. It was… pleasant. 
“Better?”
You nod wordlessly. Your breath tickles his skin but he can’t bring himself to move away. He jumps when both of your hands find his free one and you intertwine your fingers with his. You inhale deeply before lifting your head, and the redness to your eyes makes his heart ache.
“Thank you.” Your voice is scratchy and Spencer smiles sadly, tracing his fingers up to lightly ghost over your temples and brows, a barely there touch with just enough pressure that you relax again.
“You don’t need to thank me.”
“I woke you up at one a.m. because I walked to your apartment in a thunderstorm just so I wouldn’t be alone. I think I do.”
Spencer smiles. “You’re welcome any time.”
“Really?” Your voice is small. He realizes he’s never made clear that you’re not crossing boundaries when you visit when you ask “I’m not intruding?”
“You’re not Morgan,” he teases lightly, and your smile is like a ray of sun finally breaking through a gray overcast. Everything is warm again. “I don’t mind. Really.” His hand has finally stopped and dropped back to his side, but you keep your fingers tightly twined with his.
“Why is that, Dr. Reid?”
“That I don’t mind you being here?” He can hear the confusion in his voice clearly. Why would he mind? It’s a sign you feel safe, with him, and you’re good company. His favorite company.
“Why am I an exception?” Your voice is infinitely small, and he almost misses the question. It drips with vulnerability and his chest aches.
Spencer doesn’t answer for a moment. He knows it’s just a few seconds, but it feels like time stops as he looks at you. Your small smile still plays at your lips, gentle curls to the corner of your mouth; a sparkle is returning to your eyes; your face, puffy from tears and marked with tear streaks is as beautiful as ever.
He’s in love with you.
He doesn’t know how he didn’t realize before. But he can’t imagine not being in love with you either, head tilting and mouth parting as he hopelessly tries to find words that won’t overwhelm you the way the revelation is overwhelming him. 
Spencer’s eyes flick to your lips again and he realizes he wants to kiss you. 
It’s wrong, he knows that. You’re friends. Coworkers before that. You came to him in a moment of fear and anxiety, desperate for support and seeking solace in him. You wanted a safe space that he could and did provide. He would be taking advantage of your emotional state if he were to spring these feelings on you, especially since he only just realized them himself. 
And yet he wants to.
“I—” Spencer clears his throat. “You… you’re comforting, to me. It’s never too much. It doesn’t feel imposing because you will and always have respected my boundaries.” You always treat me well. I want you. Nothing could bother me beyond superficially and momentarily because I am hopelessly attached to you. “I make exceptions for you because you make them for me.”
You laugh softly. “So our relationship is only transactional?” There’s humor in your voice. You’re messing with him, and he can’t bring himself to care.
“If that’s what you want to call it.”
Your brow furrows. He wonders if he’s ruined the moment.
“Do you want it to be transactional?”
“No!” He answers too quickly, too emphatically, barely able to process his own words. “God, no,”
“Wow,” you drawl, all anxiety and tension gone from you. “You’re calling on God.”
Spencer can feel his face burn. He pulls his hand from your hold. Words escape him.
“Spencer.” Your tone draws his gaze to your face immediately. “I need you to be honest with me.” He nods before he can think to reject you — not that he’d deny you any request. He never can. “What are you thinking about?”
He studies you carefully, breathes out “you” before he can psych himself out of speaking. “Why I make exceptions.”
“Care to share?”
You’re so close to him. He can feel the warmth of your chest inches from him. Can see flecks of color in your eyes, could even count your eyelashes. He has half a mind to do so.
“I don’t think it’s appropriate,” Spencer whispers softly, shoulders relaxing as you toy with the sleeve of his hoodie. “You were just crying.”
“So it’s inappropriate?” You wiggle your brows and look up at him, eyes innocent and bright. Beautiful.
“In a sense.”
You smile, innocence to your expression vanishing. “So you want to sleep with me.”
Spencer coughs. “I didn’t— __, I didn’t say that! Don’t put words in my mouth.”
“You don’t want to? I’m hurt.” You’re grinning. “Here I was, thinking I’m irresistible.”
“I didn’t say I don’t…” he trails off. 
You’ve cornered him. You have a Cheshire Cat grin.
“Will you run away screaming if I tell you a secret?”
“Depends. Are you going to tell me you kill pretty women and I need to make a break for it?”
Spencer laughs. “No.” The humor fades quickly, and he can feel his pulse pounding. Hear his heartbeat racing in his ears. “I love you.” His voice hitches on the words. “I’m— I just realized I’m in love with you.”
“Well, it took you long enough.”
He can’t think of a smart reply. He can’t think much at all. All he smells is you and your shampoo and bodywash, and he tastes vanilla chapstick when your lips press gently to his. You don’t give him time to kiss back.
“Are you sure?” Your fingers trace his cheekbones and his head is swimming.
“Sure about what?”
“That you want me. I mean, I was crying on your couch for an hour because of a storm. Do you really want to deal with all of that?” All of you. You’re asking for reassurance you’re not a burden.
As much as he wants to kiss you, he doesn’t. “I want you as you are. If that’s what you want to know,” Spencer whispers. “You are enough for me.”
“And if I’m not enough?”
“For me or for yourself?”
“... both.”
“You are. You will be,” Spencer ducks his head to kiss a scar on your collarbone, a knife mark from one of the first cases you were on with the BAU. “You’ll find it. The balance between who you want and need to be. What you want others to see you as,” your fingers twirl the hairs at the nape of his neck and he’s hyper aware of your touch, buzzing with anticipation of more contact. “For now, you have to learn to be satisfied with who you are.”
You swallow. Nod. Blink back tears again.
“And you’ll have to be satisfied with how I am. With all my scars and flaws.”
You smile. “I think you’re perfect.”
Spencer rests his forehead on your shoulder. “I’m not. No one can be. As long as you promise to be how you’ve always been with me, then, yes, I’m sure.”
“So you don’t want anything to change?” The lightness is strained. You’re too emotional for it to land, but he doesn’t call you on it.
“I’d prefer if you kissed me.”
And you do. He basks in your warmth, your sunshine. You break his dark clouds and his barriers. It’s enveloping, a heat and comfort. Familiar. It’s like you were destined to slot against him, warm him from the inside out. He can taste your tears. A sun shower. He can’t pull back, soaking up your affections like a plant. You’re smiling despite the way your breath hitches from your emotions, and he knows you’re happy. Overwhelmed. It’s everything and not enough.
He traces your spine.
“I love you. I love you. I love you.” His heart matches his mumbled words, beating to your tempo. It was years coming, in the making, years of your smiles and sweetness breaking down his walls and becoming part of his world in every way.
And yet the rhythm is familiar, as natural as breathing.
Spencer is tired of being upset with the world. And whenever he’s with you, he isn’t. Can’t be. He just hopes he can provide the same light you do.
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i am trying. idk.. it's a fic!!! that's all i got.
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thinemoonshine · 2 days
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⋆𐙚₊ 𝐚 ‘𝔀𝓮’ 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐚𝐧 ‘𝓾𝓼’ ˚⊹♡
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downbad!enhypen hyung line x fem!reader content(s): fluff, enhypen being down so horribly, terribly, bad, like whipped whipped for (y/n), (y/n) is sassy and loves to tease, pet names, one profanity, alcohol type: oneshot
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˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ synopsis: in which (y/n) doesn’t call them her boyfriend because they haven’t officially asked her to embark on an official courtship˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
⋆˙𐙚 L.HEESEUNG 𐙚˙⋆ “…you’re gonna be the death of me!”
“don’t you think this would look good on us?” heeseung asks as he lifts up a pair of couple-y beanies and looks at (y/n) expectantly.
(y/n) shifts her gaze between the two before she brings it down. “don’t they look too couple-y?”
“yeah, i mean that’s the point, righ—wait, what do you mean ‘too couple-y?’” the realization hits him late and (y/n)’s already walking out the store, bells hung on the door chiming behind her.
heeseung hastily puts back the beanies, panicky, before he runs out to follow her. “(y/n)! (y/n), wait! what do you mean by that?”
“by what?” the girl monotonously responds.
“there’s nothing wrong with wearing matching stuff, right? aren’t we a couple? or do you not like it?” heeseung worriedly bombards her with questions as he sticks behind her like a tail—almost stumbling entirely when she stops abruptly.
“we aren’t, though.”
“huh?”
“we aren’t a couple,” (y/n) corrects him and his eyes widen as lips gape—frantically moving to stand in front of her when she budges in the slightest.
“are you breaking up with me? please, (y/n). i-i don’t know what it is but i’ll make it up to you! please not like this, no. i don’t want to lose you,” heeseung pleads as his hands shakily grab her shoulders—much too soft to actually say he even put force but the way his fingers curl, securing onto her show that he’s more than ready to latch on for his life. “tell me. tell me what i did wrong.”
(y/n) stares at his face, the desperation and concern paint him so clearly and a guilty sigh leaves her. “we can’t break up if we weren’t together in the first place.”
now confusion settles over him. his brows knitting and doe eyes searching into hers. “what do you—oh.”
and finally putting the pieces together, a loud laugh escapes him while his not-girlfriend frowns, a small pout playing on her lips.
he coos while his thumb brushes over them. “aww, is that what this was all about?”
“heeseung, you—”
“(y/n),” he interjects with his voice laced with so much charm she just can’t refute. an endearing smirk threatens to appear on his face as he cups her cheek—looking down at her with the most tender and sincere gaze. “will you let me be your boyfriend? please?”
the air’s knocked out of the other at his soft little voice that instantly extinguishes any sort of fire in her as she instead, melts into his arms that magically made their way around her waist.
she clears her throat. “yeah, i guess. yeah.”
he finally lets the smirk form as he swoops down and pecks her forehead, eliciting a gasp of surprise from her and he chuckles at her expression. “now let’s get those couple-y beanies to celebrate our official first day as a couple, hm?”
“…yeah,” the girl bashfully replies with cheeks tinted in a shade of pink.
heeseung’s chest tightens at how cute she is to the point it’s hard to breathe and he squeezes her against him—pressing her face into his chest as he resists the urge to just gnaw at her head. “you’re just so—gosh, you’re gonna be the death of me!”
“hee, my makeup!”
the way his nickname rolls from her tongue so casually is music to his ears and he bites his lip, shutting his eyes as his head falls back. “i’m the luckiest person ever to have you as my girlfriend.”
⋆˙𐙚 P.JONGSEONG 𐙚˙⋆ “silver or gold?”
there’s something off. he can’t quite put his finger on it—but there’s something terribly wrong. and it’s not just because of his and (y/n)’s cuddle sessions with her hugs too short to even be called cuddles, or the lack of kisses from her and hesitant acceptance of his or even the way she sometimes cringes at the pet names he uses on her.
but also because of the way she treats him in general. she’s still affectionate—greeting him with the biggest, most beautiful smile, going out for lunch dates with him and paying for his order because “last time you paid for everything” which, in his perspective is mortifying because why?? would she?? do such a thing??
it’s his responsibility—or so he claims—to spoil her as much as possible. he wants to be the one to feed her, buy her all her silly little trinkets and take her out on shopping sprees and carrying all her bags so why?? it breaks him to see her act the way she is.
but at the end of the day, it’s still affectionate, isn’t it? as much as he can’t comprehend it, he sees it as his girlfriend wanting to treat him every once in a while to show appreciation or something—a self-hypnosis, one might say so he doesn’t fall into hysteria.
despite his suspicions however, he says nothing and lets things flow as he takes the opportunity to observe her more, in hopes he can at least make a small conclusion so he won’t upset her by asking the wrong thing.
and today’s the perfect time for it since they’re having another one of their lunch dates. he sits anxiously at their table as he watches (y/n) who’s still at the counter—having bumped with her friend and now she’s accompanying her as she orders.
“is that all you’re having?” (y/n) asks her friend who nods and right after, the former passes the cashier her card—surprising her friend to which she assures her it’s all fine. “no, i insist! after all, last time you paid for everything.”
jay who has been a loyal, attentive audience this whole time instantly feels himself being washed over with dread. small lips parting and hand resting on the left side of his chest as it dawns on him.
all this time…(y/n)’s been treating him like a friend. not a lover. it all makes sense now. the distance she put between them and the affections shown that are always in border between friend and lover but never more to the latter—he sees it now.
“jay? what’s going on?” (y/n) asks from her seat facing him. “you’re zoning out. hello?”
he just had a short circuit and her saying “jay” so simply is only rusting his gears from overtime working.
“‘jay?’”’he echoes with a small frown on his face. “why jay?”
his question baffled her and she emits a small confused yet amused scoff.
“that’s your name? what else am i supposed to call you?”
“baby, bae, darling, honey—” he starts listing out loving pet names and making her gape at his eloquence. she’s not sure if being so knowledgeable in this subject is really useful at all but it’s impressive. “there are so many you can use! just not just my name as it is. we’re not friends…right?”
ding ding ding! finally, the man gets it and (y/n) lets a mischievous smirk play on her lips.
“i’m pretty sure we are, though,” she teases and her date’s jaw detaches, crashing to the floor along with his heart in shards. she giggles and the sound itself revives him, now looking at her with eyes wide and lips pressed expectantly. “i mean, i don’t recall being asked to be someone’s partner so…”
an audible gasp leaves him before he reaches out to hold her hands in his on the table. “my love, i should’ve known. i shouldn’t have left things be unclear between us. so, silver or gold?”
his question confuses her. “huh?”
“for our couple rings. i’m using it to propose to you to be my girlfriend later. so, silver or gold? actually, diamonds will be best, right? you only deserve the best.”
“wait, slow down—”
“how many carats?”
“jay!”
“‘jay???’”
“…sweetie? babe??”
“so much better <3”
⋆˙𐙚 S.JAEYUN 𐙚˙⋆ “i can even be your doormat!”
it’s not a secret that sim jaeyun is sometimes the embodiment of a human puppy. so it’s not surprising to see him literally following (y/n) around like tail—even before they professed their love for one another.
the only difference now is that he’s much braver in initiating skinship to show his affections like fixing her hair, or cupping her cheeks, drawing circles on whatever part it is that he’s touching on her and even cuddling with her to the point that he’s practically sandwiching her onto the couch with his buried in the crook of her neck.
but he notices something: it’s always been one-sided. and that’s weird. because as far as he knows, one of (y/n)’s love languages is physical touch. but it’s not like she rejects any of his advances, she accepts them all. maybe she’s just not very keen on starting it, but is always up for it.
so he lets it be.
until at one point, it starts to bug him and eat him from the inside out, leaving him shriveled like a wilted flower lacking every single form of nutrient and water—and all the sun’s doing is just drying up every bit of moisture and drawing the life out of him.
“(y/n)…” jake croaks weakly as he crawls onto his phone that he previously threw onto his couch, now only a sliver of the man he once was with his cheeks hollow and lips chapped as his sickness riddles him. a terrible sickness caused by (y/n) deficiency.
the other end of the call rings a few times before the voice of his beloved sings through, instantly energizing him. “hello? jake?”
“(Y/N), I NEED YOUuUuUu~” he howls and (y/n) has to pull her phone away from her ear. “i’m SICK.”
concern fills her quickly after. “sick?? what happened? do you have a fever?”
she’s bombarding him with questions as she hastily puts on her shoes near her main door, ready to leave right after. the pitiful sob from him that follows after only heightens her worry.
“i’m sick…of missing you,” he finishes and (y/n) nearly trips over air just as she’s about to step to the door. “please come over and cuddle…please…?”
his desperate whimpers are just so adorable that it nearly shatters her resolve of playing hard-to-get. nearly.
squinting her eyes and crossing one arm under chest and hooking it to the other that holds her phone to her ear, she then hums questioningly. and gosh, does jake feel like every second is another hour taken from his life span.
“no.”
nevermind. he’s dead now.
“wh-what? what do you mean ‘no?’”
huzzah! he’s been resuscitated. he wants justice.
(y/n) captures her lip between her teeth—holding back her amused chuckles at his cute confusion. “that sounds like a very boyfriend-girlfriend activity, jake. and we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend…”
beep! beep! beep!
he…hung up??
(y/n) gapes and calls him.
“the number you’ve dialed is unreachable…” the automatic machine answers.
again.
“please leave a message after the beep!…”
again.
still no answer.
worry creeps in again as (y/n) slips in her foot back into her shoe which she took off mere minutes ago. just when she stands however, a persistent ringing of her door bell freezes her momentarily.
swinging the barrier between her and the source open, she’s met with surprise to see sim jaeyun, the man himself, down on his knees as he looks up at her with doe eyes glossed over.
“jake! wha—”
“we’re not boyfriend and girlfriend? what did i do? tell me, i’ll fix it!”
“you didn’t do anything!”
“i didn’t? the-then, why?”
(y/n) opens her mouth to answer when she suddenly realizes that him not doing anything is exactly the problem—and her momentary hesitation is enough to have him clasping his hands together in desperation.
“please please please, don’t throw me away! i love you so much, i won’t be able to live without you! please please, pretty princess? PLEASE!”
the girl’s eyes widen at his sudden pleads and she anxiously looks at the other door in the corridor, hoping her apartment neighbors will disregard the chaos occurring. “jake! jake, stand up! stop doing this!”
“NO! you’re mad at me! i don’t know why but…still! is it because i’m too clingy? because i asked you to come over? sh!t! i should’ve been the one to come over not you! i’ll be better, i promise!”
“what?? no! there’s nothing wrong with that just listen to me and get—”
“NOOOO!! i’m not getting away! i’m not leaving! just keep me by your side! i’ll do anything! i-i can even be your doormat—here! right here!”
the sound of a rattling doorknob triggers (y/n)’s fight or flight and she seizes jake’s wrist that’s conveniently raised—thanks to his howls and pleads of “you said you love me!” and “love me backkkk~” respectively—and she hauls him into her apartment.
jaeyun’s eyes widen at the abrupt motion and he stumbles onto the floor of her house but before he can say anything, a pair of soft slips smash against his—ridding him of every thought as his hands instinctively reach up to cup her cheek and nape.
he limps backwards, now completely against the floor while (y/n) hovers and his vision darkens as his eyes shut—reveling in the addicting sweetness of her taste.
a small whine sounds from him when she pulls away and he chases after her lips—wanting nothing more but to relish in her essence endlessly yet her hand that gently pushes him down by the chest halts him.
she giggles at his dazed expression—his breaths shaky, eyes blown out and half-lidded as he peers up at her. “i do love you, jakey. i just said we weren’t a couple because you haven’t asked me out yet.”
“i haven’t?” he slurs like a drunken man, still on cloud nine from her kiss and his gaze casts frequent glances onto her glistening, rosy nubs. “must have been in my dream then.”
“yeah, must be,” (y/n) chuckles and sits on his lap before hauling him up—instantly getting engulfed in an embrace with his arms coiled around her waist and nose buried in the crook of her neck. feeling ticklish, the girl elicits a few titters which makes him smile against her skin.
“i can’t believe i let my princess feel so frustrated for so long,” he muffles into her. “but don’t worry, i’ll ask you now.”
“i’m all ears.”
“will you marry me?”
“HUH??”
⋆˙𐙚 P.SUNGHOON 𐙚˙⋆ "love me please"
sunghoon is more emotional of a person than how he seems. he just hides himself well and even when others try their best to push him to the edge, he will never lose his grip on his thread nor walk the plank—able to pull himself up and return to the safe shores.
of course, he’s still human and thus, will never be completely impenetrable. one common weakness among those with strict discipline? alcohol.
“i don’t know why…she doesn’t love me,” sunghoon sobs into his arms as he’s hunched onto the counter and almost slipping off his stool. jake looks down at him before a sigh escapes. he was amused seeing his usually stoic and smiley friend act so sappy at first—but that was 3 days ago and he’s still being it since.
jake pats the other’s pack. “why don’t you ask her? i thought you guys confirmed your feelings for each other?”
sunghoon nods against his arm as a low groan rumbles through him. “we did…but then i overheard her saying to her friends that we ‘aren’t together’ and are just ‘two people who share mutual affections.’”
“maybe you misheard?”
a wail akin to a whale’s call sounds from the drunken lad and jake looks around frantically, embarrassed, and is for once thankful for the blaring DJ remixes that burst people’s ears.
“i didn’t. i heard clearly what she said, that’s why i ran away… i left her there… i screwed up our lunch plans… she’s gonna hate me more! it’s my fault! why did i just—WAAaaAaA!”
once again, his friend finds himself in a fluster, scared that someone’s going to think that a marine creature’s been illegally smuggled into the establishment—causing him to haul the taller lad onto his shoulders and out of the place of business.
“there you go. stay,” jake huffs as he laboriously drops his friend onto the bench outside before pulling out his phone. dialing a number, he then puts the gadget to his ear. “hello? sorry for calling you so suddenly but uh, sunghoon’s kind of in a situation i know you’re the only who can save him from. oh, no! it’s not anything dangerous! it’s just, well…”
after hearing his explanation, it doesn’t take long for the girl to zoom to the club and there, she meets a passed out sunghoon on a cold wooden bench and jake sitting on the edge of his seat—not having enough space due to the drunkard.
“hey, thanks for coming,” the slightly older male says with a smile and nods with gratitude at her. she reciprocates.
“so…you say he’s been doing this for 3 days straight—since he overheard me?” (y/n) confirms and jake’s affirmation elicits a long sigh from her. “dummy hoon. thanks for accompanying him, jake. i’ll take over from here.”
bidding goodbye, (y/n) then approaches the sleeping young man. her heart flutters at his delicate yet sharp visages that simply steal her breath away even when he’s doing something utterly mundane such as sleeping. her hand lifts to cup his cheek, flinching at the coldness of his skin. “sunghoon, wake up. hoon?”
she nearly has a cardiac arrest when the man’s eyelids shoot open and he springs to a sitting position before facing the blanched girl.
“(y/n)!” he exclaims cheerily with the most radiant beam before engulfing her whole against his figure—muscly biceps securing around her frame as she squeaks from the sudden embrace. she chuckles, adoring how he’s still able to be so gentle with her even whilst drunk. “hi, my love~”
the nickname brings a blush to her face that’s already mantling from the cold. “come on, let’s get you to the car.”
as soon as he’s in the passenger’s seat, (y/n) bends down slightly in front of him to secure his seatbelt but pauses when sunghoon’s head drops onto her shoulder—rubbing his forehead against the fabric covering her skin.
“(y/n)…you’re so warm,” he murmurs, eyes shut and lips parted. “if only you were really here.”
his words make the girl’s brows knit. ‘does he think he’s imagining me?’
click! the seatbelt connects and she shuts his door before going to the driver’s seat.
the drive is mostly quiet with sunghoon being drowsy and (y/n) busy with trying to get him home safely but the tranquility is broken by an unexpected monologue by the former.
“i do this again and again just to see you… and you’re always there. but i wake up and you’re gone…always gone,” sunghoon murmurs in his sleepiness, and (y/n)’s fingers tighten around the wheel at his confession—feeling her heartstrings getting tugged. “i love you so much, it hurts.”
(y/n) glances at him, feeling a surge of guilt and swallows dryly. “if the real (y/n) was here, what would you tell her?”
“i’d apologize for canceling our lunch date again. and tHeN! i’d apologize again and tell her i’ll do wAyYyYY better! i’ll be the BEST MAN she’ll ever have!” sunghoon exclaims in an inconsistent rhythm—bursting on some words and calm for the others. “the LAST one too! she’s going to end up with me, i’ll make sure of it.”
his drunken confession affects her more than she thought—butterflies erupting and tickling her from the inside out with their soft, rapid wings.
“oh, really?” she teases, an amused grin worn as she faces the road which isn’t unseen by sunghoon.
his sudden quietness confuses her but soon feels his scrutinizing gaze prickling at the side of her cheek—her peeking at him from her peripheral.
“woah. you’re the best version of (y/n) my brain’s made. you feel and look real…so warm and pretty like how my (y/n) really is… my gorgeous, gorgeous girl… hihihi…” his lovesick bashful giggles from his own comment instantly beats all her favourite music and artists, defeating all her playlists and reigns the throne.
his eyes upturned in a blinding eyesmile as cheeks and nose glow a bright red from both the alcohol and the lovey dovey, giggly mood he’s brought to himself. he’s so cute. a cutie pie.
by the time they arrive at his home, he’s onto his reason number whoever knows on his list of ‘why my-not-but-still-my-girl aka.(y/n) is the best girl.’
he flops on his bed when (y/n) drops him with a large grunt before joining his side in exhaustion. big mistake.
because now she’s caged within sunghoon’s beefy arms and as much as she loves nothing more than to stay in them—suffocate in them even, but he’d never let—she has to go home.
“sung—oof! sunghoon!” she grunts and wriggles in his unbudging grasp and just when she tries to slip through by sliding down vertically and off the edge of the bed, he nuzzles into the side of her head—drawing figures in her hair with the tip of his nose.
“love me, please,” he whispers and that instantly shuts down her motor—now completely still as she slowly turns to him. her eyes dance across his face that’s slightly scrunched and she can tell it’s because of what he overheard her say. he’s thinking about it again.
“i do love you, hoon—so so much that it physically squeezes the air out of me sometimes. i only said what i said because i realized we never made it official and whenever i hinted at you, you just acted like it was nothing. just going with it without accepting or denying anything,” (y/n) explains in a whisper as her finger moves up to trace his features.
freezing suddenly when she reaches his mouth and the corners begin to curl up.
“so i just need to make things official and we won’t just be ‘two people who share mutual feelings together?’” he asks with clarity. the lack of muddled mumbles and dragged words instantly tell the other of his sobriety.
she looks up, taken aback to see him already staring down at her with the most endearing of gazes—shifting between her eyes constantly before letting it dance across her face and back to melting their gazes together.
“i guess so…” she mutters, flustered and belatedly shy from the proximity.
sunghoon catches his bottom lip between his teeth, finding the sight before him simply too adorable and presses a kiss on her forehead. “then, just as i am already yours, will you be mine?”
his concise offer makes her heart skip beats but it still doesn’t compare to hoon’s that’s running a mile a minute, vigorous thumps almost blending into one another and she feels it from the way he hugs her tight.
so much for mr.cool guy act.
“it would be my honour, hoon,” she replies with a cheeky grin and a second later she’s squealing from getting bombarded with butterfly kisses—unknowing of his struggle to keep himself together and not just crush her every bone from the cuteness aggression, finding her to be the loveliest ever.
ᡣ𐭩ྀི₊ ⊹ masterlist ᝰ.ᐟ✮⋆˙
𝜗𝜚 hi, it’s romi here!! thank you so much for reading to the end!! if you enjoyed it, don’t forget to leave a heart and reblog—they give me some motivation, ya know? but please do not spam like!! X♡X♡, romi ⋆.ೃ࿔*:・
copyright © 2024 thinemoonshine all rights reserved
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heyhoeudoin · 1 day
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i want a watcher!grian fic of NOT ANGST like can we stop being depressed for one second and think of the possibilities of a NOT ANGST watcher!grian. he would totally mess with the hermits in many ways.
like imagine watcher!grian opening an eye around mumbo and just messes with him in chat
grian: hey mumbo what are you doing grian: you missed a redstone at (coords) mumbo: how did you know that????? mumbo: YOURE NOT HERE?????
grian could literally confuse xisuma on historical information that grian shouldn't "technically" know. also, grian would totally "fix" up some of xisuma's admin codes... and even leave not-so-secret messages.
"hey x, did you know that food didn't stack back then," grian casually shared to xisuma who slowly turned to him. "oh also, did you know that zombies dropped feathers instead of rotten flesh back then cause it hasn't existed yet." xisuma blinked at him. "how do you know that? grian then pointed at the floating screen. "also, your code there is wrong. it should be—" he pulled out his own screen and started typing down a code, then showed it to xisuma. xisuma read through it, his brows slowly furrowing. "how do you know admin code?" all grian did was shrug. "who knows, exe-eye-zuma-vee-oid, maybe when you wake up tomorrow your code will suddenly fix itself." then give a mischievous grin. the next day, when xisuma checked the codes for his daily check. he saw that everything was rewritten. that caused him a massive panic and spent the next few hours checking who could've gonr through the admin code, but he also realized that his code really did fix itself... like what grian said. he then saw at the end of the script is a message written in the galactic alphabet that he knows for sure is a dead written language. it's a good thing that he's a voidwalker, but even then, he's not that fluent at reading it. "thank you for everything, xisuma, this is my gift to you," is what it said (after a few tries of getting it right).
also also, i love yhs!grian and he would totally just randomly start talking in japanese to etho and etho wouldnt even realize that he started replying in japanese until grian leaves and realizes.
also also also, grian would totally leave messages in galactic all around doc's base because he knows doc can't read any of it. doc would totally lose his mind as well because it. and grian would totally talk to doc using an eye making doc lose is mind once again. "where are you grian?! i know you're here!" and grian is actually not there.
also x4, grian could literally leave an eye with scar, out in the open, not even bother hiding it and scar would just be like "ooo new friend" and let it be, not knowing that it's a watcher thing.
also x5, i can't think of anything else but imagine the possibilities!
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a2zillustration · 2 days
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(It's ok Yurgir will respawn in Avernus)
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strawberrystepmom · 3 days
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sanemi x f!reader. isekai au, established relationship, mostly fluff and character study. | wc 1.3k, divider thanks to @cafekitsune
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Gentle communication has never been Sanemi’s strong suit.
He’s moved through his life as wild and blusterous as the winds he wields to keep the world safe, a flurry of carelessly running off at the mouth and leaving destruction behind him if it suited him best. At least until he met you.
Brash is the kind word you’ve chosen to describe him or at least that’s what he overheard you discussing with Mitsuri shortly after he realized his feelings for you were mutual, after the two of you had engaged in relatively wordless physical passion more than once. He didn’t know what the word meant (frankly, he isn’t sure if she did either although she never mentioned it) and he asked you, pointedly, to explain yourself.
“What the fuck does brash mean?”
The look on your face, wide eyes and slightly downturned corners of your lips, caught him off guard even more so than you found yourself. He watched you through narrowed violet eyes while you considered the way to phrase the explanation, a little regretful about his naturally commanding and harsh tone though he could not, and cannot, change it about himself. For a period of time, you looked terrified of him every time you glanced at him and while he felt grateful that was no longer the case, old fears crept in when you opened your mouth to speak, eyes still wide.
“Are you upset with me?” You asked, glancing toward the ground for a moment and then back at his face - that scarred, beautiful face - concerned that your choice of words offended him.
“No.” He answered quickly, reaching out to rub his thumb along the soft skin of the inside of your wrist, something that became a habit after the two of you began sleeping together. His shoulders slumped forward, he inhaled deeply and lowered his voice. “I just want to know.”
Smiling at the glimpse of the man beneath the surface, you leaned in toward him to close the surrounding world off to just the two of you.
“It means that you aren’t afraid to speak your mind and to assert yourself. It’s not a bad thing, you just get to the point quicker than other people might.”
He could tell you were beating around the bush, a little trait of yours he noticed more and more over the time that passed, and his face fell into a scowl despite his thumb still pressing against your skin.
“So you’re saying I’m an asshole?”
You frowned back at him, shaking your head.
“No, I think you just forget about the subtleties of conversation. Facial expressions, tone of voice, language,” you raised your eyebrows at him, pursing your lips to punctuate the last point. “Little things matter, Sanemi. I can’t tell you why but they do.”
Tilting his head to the side, he lacked the grace to hide his confusion. You glanced up at him and trailed your free hand up his arm, reaching until you cupped his chin and cheek in your palm.
“Why? Why can’t people just say what they mean?” You giggled and patted his face, shaking your head. “I don’t have an answer for that but what I can promise you is that I’ll always figure out what you mean even if you say it a little roughly.”
He smiled down at you, slight enough that anyone else would mistake it for a grimace, but you knew better. Emotions have never come easy for Sanemi and you knew that long before getting involved with him bearing in mind that he didn’t speak to you for weeks except to bark orders or demand you cover yourself up in the revealing Slayer uniform you were given upon your appearance in his world.
Even back then, you’d come a long way with one another in a short time. You sighed and dropped your hand from his face, sparing him the embarrassment of being caught mid embrace with you lest someone approached.
“I never mean to be mean to you,” he admitted, eyes glued toward his hand still resting on your arm. “I don’t know how else to tell you what I’m trying to say. All this shit is just…different for me.”
Nodding, you reassured him with a half smile.
“I know and I always pick up on what you really mean anyway.”
The small tells have always said more than he thinks. Twitching fingers, especially the ones he has confided in you he has less feeling in, resting against your arm. Low chuckles in his throat, so brief you believe you imagined them. His lips roughly pressing against your hairline, your cheek, your throat in the darkness of your room.
───・・✦・・───
Those small signs have certainly come in handy over the time the two of you have spent together. The days of miscommunication aren’t long passed, they still linger in the back of your mind when his jaw is slackened and he looks like he may open his mouth to say anything and leave you to play damage control, but you have figured out the little tells.
The crease between his eyebrows deepens and he grips his teacup a little too tightly while kneeling in front of the table at his brothers’ home. You wordlessly sip from your own cup but glance over at Sanemi, raising your left eyebrow to give him the silent signal that you are checking on him.
Are you ready to go?
So many words contained in a simple gesture.
Please.
He nods once, indistinct enough that Genya and his wife who are lost in their own conversation do not look away from one another. Cup placed gently back on the table in front of him, he leans upward and folds his arms over his chest, allowing you to do what you do best. Talk.
“I think we’re about to head home.”
Genya and his wife rise and smile at the two of you, exchanging goodbyes and thanking you for visiting them and their ever growing family. Sanemi’s heart still occasionally pumps a few beats harder when he takes the time to consider how thoughtfully you approach him, patiently allowing him to clarify himself when most would just assume he’s impolite and leave it at that.
“Thank you,” he finally says when the two of you have exited out of the gate separating Genya’s home and the road, stepping down the path headed toward your own that is closer than it seems on a dusk summer evening.
“Of course.” You butt your shoulder against his playfully, fiddling with the inside of your sleeves. “I know you better than you think.”
Sanemi chuckles, sliding his arm around your waist and pulling you against his side. He’s never been one for overt displays of affection but it’s just the two of you, the crickets, and the earliest appearing stars tonight. There’s no harm in kissing the crown of your head and nuzzling his face into it while your footsteps fall into sync.
“You do,” he agrees, kissing your head. “You’ve tried a hell of a lot harder at the very least.”
This makes you laugh, grinning up at him and wrapping your arms around his waist in return.
“Only because I like you.”
He looks down, brows raised, feigning that same angry look he used to wear before he learned to relax and roll with the punches - assisted by you, of course.
“You only like me?”
Giggling, you shrug, pressing your head into his chest so he can rest his chin on top of it.
“Okay, okay, I guess I love you or something, too.” He chuckles and you feel it rumble beneath your ear, cheeks warming his breath gently ruffles the hair on top of your head.
“That’s better. Say what you mean when you’re talkin’ to me.”
There’s no derision in his words. No anger or frustration, nothing to make you jump or wonder what you’ve done wrong. You glance up at him to find him looking down at you rather than the path ahead, smiling. He’ll save his “I love you” for later, in another way, something you’ve come to appreciate about him since the days when you barely knew each other and were trying to figure it out.
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With her sweetened breath and her tongue so mean - poly!marauders x slytherin!reader
Summary: Preparing for the dreaded OWLs proves to be a difficult task for one tightly-wound Slytherin. How do Remus, James, and Sirius each offer assistance, and how does she handle it?
Notes: No Voldemort, but pureblood elitism is still very much a thing. Story starts at the end of the Marauders and Reader’s fifth year. I don’t know the most about all the Marauders Era headcanons so I kind of did what I wanted, sorry if you don’t like it. 
Tags: Angst, fluff, traumatized Slytherins, pureblood elitism, slightly mean!reader
Words: ~7.8k
p.1
I huffed as I reached for another heavy book on the shelf from one of the dark back corners of the library. I wasn’t in the restricted section just yet, but getting close to it. Between the weight of the other five books stacked in my arm and the height of the shelf I was trying to reach I nearly dropped them all. 
“Careful, there, Princess. Might break something lugging around all those books,” someone said next to me. I nearly jumped as I hadn’t noticed anyone come down this same aisle. 
I shot a glare at him for startling me. It was none other than Remus Lupin, one of those pesky Gryffindors who was constantly fighting me for my space at the top of the class. My glare intensified when I realized who it was.
“Yes, and it would sure be a shame if I managed to drop these on your foot and break something there,” I snarked. 
He looked amused at me. “Whoa, Princess, no need to get feisty with me. I was just going to offer my assistance.”
“And what kind of assistance should I accept from you when you’re just as likely to try and trick me?” Lupin gave me a weary look. Typical of Gryffindors to think everyone is as blindly trusting as them.
“No tricks, Princess, just offering a bit of help,” he said with a shrug.
“Would you stop that? Stop calling me that,” I snapped at him before turning back to the book I needed. Before I could make a second attempt to reach for it, Remus stepped up next to me and I froze. But then he grabbed the book for me and set it on top of my stack then took a step back. 
“Not a fan of your nickname?” He was of course referring to me being known as Slytherin’s Princess. Sometimes I like to pretend the nickname came about because I’m always top of the class, making my house proud, but I know the real reason is because I come from a wealthy, pureblood, Slytherin family and everyone thought me rather spoiled. 
“I am not some simpering girl in need of a man to save her and it’ll do good for the people in this school to remember that.” Despite his significant height, I lifted my chin to Remus Lupin and dared him to say otherwise. 
“Of course, of course,” he agrees, nodding his head and holding up his hands. “But you are Slytherin’s Princess, aren’t you?” His eyes light up in amusement at my frustration. 
My nostrils flare as I hold back my anger. It doesn’t do me any good to blow up at some stupid Gryffindor, not when that is exactly what he wants and I am not in the business of giving Gryffindors what they want.
Instead, I turn to walk away. Take the high-ground as they say. 
“Wait, wait, I’m sorry!” Remus calls after me, quickly catching up to and following me. “Seriously, dove, I’m sorry. I was only joking. Please, let me help you with whatever on earth you could possibly need all these books for.”
I stop abruptly and turn toward him. “And why should I accept help from someone like you?” I nearly growl at him, barely holding back my frustrations.
Remus looks taken aback by my words. “Someone like me? You mean a half-blood?”
It’s my turn to be startled by him. “I mean a Gryffindor,” I bite out. This was exactly why I couldn’t stand this brutish group, they were always so quick to jump to outrageous assumptions, thinking the worst of someone like me just because I’m in Slytherin.
He looks relieved and confused at the same time, but I don’t really care to help him unpack his complex emotions about the exact reasoning behind why I don’t trust him. 
I dump my books down onto the table I had claimed earlier and began to scour the table of contents in the first one. Uninvited, Remus took the chair next to me and began looking over my shoulder at the book. 
“Can I help you, Lupin? Or are you just interested in being a nuisance?” 
“I’m glad to be a nuisance any day, but as I’ve said before I was actually hoping to help you.”
“And as I’ve said before I’m not looking for any help.” 
“But that’s the thing, isn’t it? Is that this close to our OWLs you’re scouring books for something that you think you’ve missed, but you’ve been at the top of our classes all year, so I highly doubt you’ve managed to miss anything of real importance.” I give him a confused look, trying to discern how he’s figured me out so easily. Except he’s wrong, of course, I did somehow manage to lose the year a specific herb was realized to have certain medicinal properties. “So now I’m trying to answer the question of what does little miss Slytherin Princess think that she desperately needs to know, and will that really be the determining factor in her score on her OWLs?”
I glance around to make sure no one else is listening to me admitting defeat in front of a Gryffindor. “I don’t have the year we began to use hyssop to treat earaches,” I murmur. 
Remus’s face seems to fall at my admission. “That’s what you’re so concerned about? A minor herb’s medicinal use? Not even that, you already know that, but what year that was discovered? That is such a niche detail, there is absolutely no way Sprout asks us that.”
I roll my eyes. “Obviously Sprout’s not going to ask us about that, it’s Binns that I’m worried about,” I explain. Although I really shouldn’t be giving my enemy any help in preparing for our upcoming tests. I was just as desperate to best him on these tests as I’m sure he was me. 
“Binns?” He asks, outraged. “Binns would never ask about that in a million years.”
“You don’t know that, no one knows that. We had a lecture on the history of medicinal herbs, hyssop was one of them.”
“And so you really think that from that one lecture he’s going to ask us when hyssop was discovered to help with earaches?”
“I was reviewing my notes and I had written down the year but it got smudged.”
“You’re actually a raving lunatic,” Remus tells me. He looks around the library like he might get up and leave, but then he turns back to me. “I realize these are the most important tests of the year, but I think you have way overestimated the difficulty of the questions that will be on them.”
“And I think you can never be too safe.”
We hold each other’s gaze for several moments. Remus finally blinks and then sighs. “Confound it all, fine. Hand me one.” He holds his hand out expectantly. 
I stare at him, confused. 
“Well? Are we going to look for this blasted year or not?” I blink out of my stupor and hand him one of the books I had grabbed. 
We sit in silence for a long while, pouring over the texts. The only sound in this part of the library is us turning pages. The first book I look through doesn’t contain my answer, and neither must the book Remus has. Although I am tempted to go back later and double check he didn’t find it and not tell me in an effort to trick me. 
After I get through two more books and Remus goes through three, I can’t stop myself from asking the question that had been nagging in the back of my head the entire time. 
“Why exactly are you helping me? Surely you’d much rather be focused on your own studying.”
Remus slowly pulls his attention away from the book in front of him. He blinks at me and then furrows his brows. “Sorry, I know you said something, I just didn’t quite catch what,” he admits. 
I can’t help the small laugh at his honesty. “Why are you helping me? I thought you’d want to be studying for your OWLs.”
“I am studying for my OWLs,” he replies, tauntingly. I roll my eyes at him. 
“Come on, you know what I meant,” I push. 
He shrugs and I think that’s going to be all the answer I get, then after a pause he says, “you’ve intrigued me. I’m curious now to find out when we started using hyssop for earaches.” There’s something about his tone that’s off, but I mark it down to him just teasing me. “Besides, I’m already plenty prepared to get a perfect score and take my spot at the top of the class.”
I laugh at his taunting. “Clearly not prepared enough if you’re not well versed in the history of hyssop,” I tease back. 
He gives me a winning smile and something in my chest stutters at it. I must just be unsettled by his obviously false flattery. 
“Can I ask you something in return?” He asks after a moment. 
I consider him, then reply, “I don’t promise to answer, but you’re welcome to ask.” 
He smiles again and this time it feels like my heart has been squeezed just a bit. “Well I suppose that’s fair. But are you always so…” he trails off and I get nervous at where he’s going with this. “Well, are you always so intense about knowing every little detail?” He finally finishes. 
It must be relief that floods my veins when he doesn’t ask anything backhanded or rude. I actually give him a smile before glancing down at my lap. 
“I have to be, don’t I? There’s one way to stay where I am and it’s by rigorous study,” I admit. 
“Is it really so important to stay at the top that you have to obsess like this, though?” 
I think back to what happened when I would slack off with my studies at home before coming to Hogwarts. I can’t help the way my face falls at the memories. 
“I suppose it might not be so important to a Gryffindor, but success is a high priority in Slytherin,” I finally respond. It seems when I don’t know how to react I lash out, although Remus is lucky to have caught me in a good mood as I let him off rather easily. 
Nonetheless he still looks a bit dejected by my response. I feel a bit bad for shutting him down when we had been starting to get along rather well. 
“We should probably focus on the matter at hand, though, if we ever want to find our answer before curfew,” I say, returning to the book in front of me. 
“Right…” Remus murmurs. Part of me expects him to leave at that point, after all that’s when everyone else does. He surprises me when he stays and doubles down his efforts. 
I open my mouth, to say what I’m not entirely sure. I close my mouth again when I realize that I want to apologize. There’s no way that Remus wants some half baked apology from me. 
Time passes in silence, the both of us occupied with our search, but my mind keeps wandering to the way I had snapped at Remus. I didn’t understand why he had sat down to help me, but I shouldn’t have antagonized him for asking a simple question. It wasn’t his fault that the answer wasn’t so simple. 
I can’t help stealing glances of him every few minutes, which significantly hinders my speed in reading my book, but Remus doesn't seem to notice and I can’t get myself to stop. This means that I notice almost immediately when Remus freezes suddenly. I try not to react, not wanting to have been caught looking.
“Holy shit!” He nearly shouts, someone nearby shushes him loudly, but he’s too busy jumping out of his seat to mind. “Oh, Merlin’s beard I actually found it!” He whispers loudly this time and pumps his fist. Standing at his height above me while I sit next to him I have to strain my neck to look up at his face, but it’s such a beautiful sight with how excited he is.
“You mean you actually found the year?” I ask, matching his excitement.
He nods enthusiastically at me then points to the line of text that contains the answer we’d spent hours searching for. “Yes, yes, look! It’s right there.”
We celebrate as quietly as we can and I quickly jot down the information into my notes. 
“Oh, thank you, Remus! You’ve just saved me probably three hours.” I stand to join him. It’s then that I finally check the time and realize just how close it is to curfew. “Ah, shit,” I murmur. “We should turn in for the night. I don’t fancy having a run-in with Filch tonight.”
“Let me walk you to your dorm?” Remus offers.
“What? It’s nearly curfew, you’ll risk getting in trouble with Filch. No, I’m perfectly capable of seeing myself to my dorms for the night,” I reply firmly. 
“Don’t worry about me, dove, I can handle myself. Let me walk you to your dorm.” This time Remus sounds more like he’s telling me than asking me. Nevertheless I nod in agreement and we make our way to the Slytherin common room in the dungeons. 
On the way down, Remus teases me lightly about how obsessed I must be to dedicate so much effort into finding such a small detail. I tease him back about him being a nerd for helping me look for the answer. It’s lighthearted and easy and part of me thinks I could get used to having Remus as a friend. Another part of me questions what it would look like for me to be friends with a Gryffindor and whether my parents would approve or not. Then the first part kicks the second part for being such a self-obsessed ass. 
Just outside the entrance to the Slytherin common room I wave goodbye to Remus and wish him a good night. I try not to blush when he calls me “dove,” and dart into the safety of the common room. 
The next few weeks Remus seems to make it a habit of running into me in the library when I would otherwise be alone. In the past I had tried studying with Narcissa or Andromeda but the pair of them had bad habits of wanting to chat while I wanted to actually study, so my time in the library had previously been spent alone. 
Remus was different, though. He understood my desire to focus on the material in front of me and not whether or not his hair was looking frizzier than normal. 
Before I knew it I had come to rather enjoy his company. It felt almost reassuring that there was someone else who was similarly interested in studying, but wanted to do it with me. Somehow it was like studying at the same table as him made studying that much better, even if nothing of substance had changed. 
On a Saturday morning, a couple weeks before we were to begin taking our OWLs, I went out to the Black Lake just before the sun rose. I had slept fitfully, getting more and more nervous for the tests ahead of me. There was so much pressure to do good on these, I didn’t know what I would do if I were anything less than perfect. 
I don’t know why exactly I came out here, I just knew that I needed fresh air. Without much else of a plan, I sat down at the trunk of a tree and pulled out my wand. I practiced a couple small charms and transfigurations on the branches and rocks around me. 
“I’d say that rock doesn’t stand a chance against you, but I’d like to know what it did to deserve such treatment in the first place.”
I dropped the spell I had been using to propel the rock in the air and it fell swiftly. There likely wasn’t anyone in the school who I would not have been shocked to see, but I was especially shocked it was none other than James Potter. He’s a fairly popular boy my age in Gryffindor, mostly known for his outspokenness and disruptive behavior. If my memory serves me right, which it always does, he’s actually friends with Remus Lupin.
“What are you doing out here so early?” I can’t help but ask.
“I could ask the same of you,” he points out. I finally take him in at that moment. He’s wearing loose shorts and an old Gryffindor quidditch t-shirt that he’s cut the bottom half off to show off his athletic build. His curly hair is a mess atop his head, but I get the notion it’s always like that. When I meet his eyes I’m struck by how blue they are that I can notice even with him standing several feet in front of me. I can’t help but think to myself how pretty he is. He gives me a dorky smile, as if used to the attention but still not sure how to respond.
“Couldn’t sleep so well. Thought some fresh air would do me some good,” I finally answer, not acknowledging how I’d just been looking at him.
“Some fresh air and tormenting rocks?” He teases.
“Is that all you think we Slytherins do? Torment everything?” I huff. 
His face twists at my response. “No, no that’s not what I meant at all. It was just a joke, most people laugh at them.”
I sigh and lean back against the trunk of the tree. “I’m sorry, I’m just a bit on edge,” I admit, though I’m not sure why I feel the urge to open up to this next to perfect stranger.
James takes a few steps closer and I tense up, but he just takes a seat next to me under the tree. “What’s got you so on edge?” 
“Is that another one of your jokes? The OWLs obviously.”
“Oh, right. I suppose those are coming up soon.” He pauses and tears some grass in front of him. “What’re you stressed over those for?” 
My brows pinch together and I stare at him like he’s grown a second head. “They’re only the most important tests of the entire school year, of our entire schooling career thus far! These will determine our entire futures.”
It’s James’s turn to look at me like I’m crazy. “They’re just another test, though. And I really don’t see how they’ll determine our entire futures,” he says plainly. 
I scoff and roll my eyes. Leave it to a Gryffindor to blow off something so important. 
“Look, I know you’ve got this whole thing about being perfect in every subject and staying ahead of everyone else, so I’ll make you a deal.” I turn to him, my interest piqued. “If you do any less than perfect on each of your OWLs, I’ll turn all the professor’s hair purple,” he offers.
My jaw drops at his suggestion. “What on earth would that accomplish?”
“Well I figure people won’t be talking about what grade you got on your OWLs if they’re too busy talking about Dumbledore with a lilac beard,” he’s laughing even as he says it. I laugh, too, at that image. 
“Make it bright pink and I’ll help you,” I reply through giggles. 
James gives me his award-winning dorky smile and I can’t tear my eyes away. 
“Seriously, though, I’ll bet you’ve already gotten perfect scores on every other test this year, there can’t be anyone else more prepared than you.”
“Thank you,” I mumble, not used to outright compliments that weren’t also an insult. My gaze falls to where James is still fiddling with the grass. “A bit antsy, are you?”
“Sorry,” he sighs, “I’ve been trying to work on that. I actually came out here to go for a run, it helps me burn some of my extra energy before the day so I can focus a bit better.”
I can’t imagine wanting to start the day by burning through energy, I often woke up with barely enough to make it through the day. 
“Oh, I’m sorry to be keeping you. I can go back inside if you want to run by yourself,” I offer and even before I finish talking, I’m pushing to stand up. 
“No, no you’re fine!” He’s quick to reassure me. “Please, stay. Actually if you want you could join me, it might help you clear your mind.”
I consider for a moment before deciding to agree. There couldn’t be much harm in it, it was still at least another hour before most people would get up for the day and I didn’t have anything better to do. 
While we run I can’t help glancing over to James, who’s clearly in his own world.
The sun began to peak over the horizon, slowly illuminating our path. At one point the sun is behind James when I steal another glance at him, and the way the light catches on his features makes him look like a real life angel.
James proves to be right, the run did help me to clear my mind. When we stop back where we had started I’m feeling significantly lighter than before, even if I am breathing significantly heavier. 
“That was… fun,” I am slow to admit. “Thank you, Potter.”
“Anytime, darling.” He gives me another goofy smile. “Feel free to join me whenever you like, I come out at the same time everyday.”
“I just might take you up on that.”
I don’t know what makes me do it, but I take James Potter up on his offer every day for a week straight. I quickly come to enjoy the ritual of it, waking up before dawn, sneaking out of my dorm, getting the fresh air and clearing my mind before the day. 
James’s presence was a reassuring one, even if we didn’t always talk much. I had the sense that he would listen to anything I needed to say and offer encouragement. 
As our OWLs loom ever closer I come to rely on our runs to center me in the mornings more and more, but I also question how long James will continue to let me join him. He never says anything to indicate he doesn’t want me to join, though, so I take him at face value and keep meeting him under our tree every morning. 
The night before we’re to start our OWLs I find myself unable to sleep for even a minute. Of course this wasn’t a problem for my dorm mates who had fallen asleep at least two hours ago. 
I toss and turn, thinking that maybe if I could just get comfortable I could get to sleep. Of course I have no such luck. Eventually I decide that drastic times call for drastic measures. 
I don’t have to worry about being too quiet as I climb out of my bed, pull on a jumper, and slip on my sneakers. I’ve mastered this routine from sneaking out for my morning runs. 
Two years prior Narcissa was sniffling and sneezing her brains out, but didn’t want to wake Madam Pomfrey for medicine. Andromeda insisted we could take care of her ourselves, she just needed a good, hot cup of tea to clear her system. I never knew where she learned it, but she showed me a way to slip into the kitchens undetected. She then showed me which cabinet to find the herbs in, and also which herbs were the right ones. And then she showed me how to use the kettle. 
It was amazing how much better Narcissa was able to sleep after she finished her cup of tea, and the next day she was right as rain. I quickly became obsessed with the simple magic behind a “good cup of tea” and asked Andromeda to tell me everything she knew about the different recipes and ingredients. When her knowledge proved to be rather limited I went on a rampage in the library until I was satisfied─ a good two weeks later. 
My plan was a simple blend to help me sleep and settle my nerves. Chamomile and cinnamon was sounding particularly tasty, although I was considering whether I might like lavender with rosemary more. Lost in my thoughts, I didn’t notice at first there was already someone else in the kitchens. Thankfully when I did I only jumped a little. 
Confused, I stared at Sirius Black as he took a kettle off one of the stoves. He gave me an amused look in return. 
“Couldn’t sleep either?” He guessed.
“No, I’m quite afraid not.”
He gave me a sad smile in understanding. “Have a seat, I’ll make you a cup,” he offered. I can’t say why I listened, but I did. Maybe in a moment of weakness before a highly stressful event I didn’t care that I didn’t know him much, I just wanted to let someone take care of me. 
“Any preference on what kind?” He asks.
“Hmm, I was debating between chamomile with cinnamon or lavender with rosemary,” I say. Then, because I can’t help myself, I proceed to list off my many thoughts on the benefits of each ingredient and what might best suit my current situation. 
Lost in my thoughts, I don’t notice that Sirius has made a decision for me and already started steeping the herbs in the water. I’ve somehow veered off onto what might make a good combination if Sirius was having a headache, or if his headache was caused by a cold and he had other symptoms what could help with that. 
To his credit, he never once interrupts or even looks bored. In fact the entire time he seems to regard me with mild amusement, and I begin to get the impression that everything he encounters in life amuses him. 
I don’t even stop rambling about tea when he sets my cup in front of me. After taking a sip, I start to tell him how very fond I am of lemon balm, then pause when I finally realize the cup of tea is already made. 
For the first time since Sirius asked what kind of tea I wanted, he is finally given a chance to say something. “Are you sure you weren’t meant to be in Ravenclaw?”
I scoff at his suggestion. “Don’t be absurd, Slytherins can be just as studious as Ravenclaws, we just typically hold our cards a little closer to our chest.”
“Right.” He nods. “This was you holding your cards close to your chest?” He then questions.
“Well it’s not like there’s any great secret behind tea. And besides, even if I haven’t been able to sleep I am quite tired.” A yawn escapes me just then to prove my point. “Narcissa always complains about my tendency to ramble when I’m tired.”
“Why would she complain? I found it rather entertaining,” he says, lightheartedly. Even though his tone has a hint of joking to it, I feel like he’s being honest. 
I give him a small smile before taking another sip from my cup. It’s still quite hot, but the flavors are still strong. “Mmm, this is quite delicious,” I compliment. “Is it chamomile with… rosemary?” 
Sirius gives me a proud grin. “Ten points to Slytherin,” he jokes. A smile falls on my face. 
“What have you made for yourself?” I ask, glancing at his cup. 
“Vanilla and rose.” 
“That sounds lovely. I can’t believe I hadn’t thought of that before.”
“James’s mum makes it for us all the time. Do you want to try a sip?” He offers. I nod quickly and he passes over his cup. Sure enough it’s a delightful mixture. I tell him such and he tells me the measurements so that I can make it for myself. 
“So what’s keeping you up on this otherwise peaceful night?” Sirius asks.
“You’ve got to be kidding,” I groan. He looks at me dumbly, confused as to what the obvious answer might be. “We start our OWLs tomorrow,” I scoff. 
“Merlin, you can’t really be this stressed about it.” He sounds disbelieving, though I’m not sure why. 
“I can and I am,” I say, matter-of-factly. He rolls his eyes and turns to begin putting away the tea kettle. “Why are you up, if not because of the OWLs?” I then ask.
“Not for any good reason. Have always had trouble sleeping,” he says, but the tightness in his voice, and the way he tugs at a lock of hair behind his ear tells me there’s something else he doesn’t want to share. I can’t fault him for that, though. “Which of your OWLs do you feel most prepared for?” He asks after a moment of tense silence. 
It throws me off for just a second. Most people want to know which test I’m most nervous for, want to know what area I’m weakest in, where the chip in my armor is so that they might strike there. I consider for a moment, not wanting to say something that I end up bombing. Eventually, I decide on my favorite subject. Sirius seems to accept that answer without pushing any further, so I turn it on him. 
“Defense Against the Dark Arts,” he answers almost immediately. “I want to be an auror,” he brags. 
I roll my eyes at the proud smirk on his face. “Of course you do.”
“Well? What do you want to be?” Sirius asks as if expecting a lame answer such as archivist. 
“My parents want me to be an alchemist,” I reply in what I would guess is a lame answer.
“That’s great for them, what do you want to be, though?” Looking into his eyes at that moment feels as if he’s staring into my soul. 
“I… I don’t know,” I mumble slowly and my brows furrow. I can’t help but look at my cup of tea, half empty at this point. No one had ever asked me what I wanted before, not when it came to something so major. It was always assumed I would follow the path my parents laid for me. 
When I find the courage to look back up to Sirius he has a sympathetic look on his face. 
“Don’t look at me like that,” I snap.
In return, Sirius’s face pinches in anger. “I wasn’t looking at you any type of way,” he defends.
“Yes, you were, you had this look on your face like you were sad for me,” I accuse. “Don’t be sad for me.”
“I’m not sad for you─”
“Good, because you have no reason to be. My life is great and everything is perfectly fine.” The way I say it even Sirius can tell that I’m trying to convince myself more than him at this point. I let out a frustrated sigh. I want to say something about how I’m a great witch and I’m meant to be an alchemist, but another voice in my head whispers to explain how I really feel.
“Look,” I start, then trail off. 
“It’s complicated,” he finishes for me. “I get it. I’m sure you know about my family, you know I get it.” His voice is so soft as he talks to me, as if I’m a frightened animal. But despite my flaws I am still a Slytherin, and I do not appreciate being treated like a frightened animal. 
“Leave it to a Gryffindor to be so self-absorbed they assume everyone knows their tragic tale of woe. Maybe instead of staying up late to make tea and trying to relate to girls you hardly know you should work on your form for your smokescreen spell.” The words spill out of me before I even consider them. I don’t even take the time to be shocked at my outburst. Instead I storm off. 
“Yeah, you’re one to talk about self-absorbed, Princess!” He shouts at my back. I nearly flinch at the nickname, but keep going out of the kitchens and straight back up to my dorm.
─ 
The morning before the first day of our OWLs testing I follow my same routine. I wake up early to run with James, and he tries to ask if I’m feeling alright, but I brush him off and neither of us acknowledges the way I push myself harder on this run than I ever had before. 
After our run, I go back up to my dorm to shower and get ready for the day. My dorm mates still haven’t caught on yet that I’ve started getting up hours earlier. They do ask if I’m feeling flush and press their hands to my forehead, though. I shove them off with a grumbled, “I’m fine,” and shove my things for the day into my bag. 
In the Great Hall I can hardly stomach a plain slice of toast, but I just manage to get it down with some orange juice. I feel a bit queasy, but today is too important to pay that feeling any mind. 
On my way to the first test of the day, I think back to Remus’s reassuring words from our study session the night before. 
“Look, I know trying to reassure you that you’ll do great won’t get through to you, even if I have never been more sure of anything in my life,” Remus says softly, almost hesitantly. “Instead I hope you know that it will be okay if you aren’t perfect.” My heart hits my stomach and I drop my quill. I start to shut down, prepare to lash out. Why would he say that? He thinks I won’t be perfect? 
“Maybe other people will have different opinions, but I will still be your friend and I know that everything will turn out okay for you.”
Oh. My heart flutters back to life. We’re friends? 
For once in my life, I do not lash out at someone for trying to get closer to me, for saying something honest that I wasn’t ready to hear. 
I give him a sad smile. “Thanks, Remus.” I pause for a long moment. “I’m glad you’re my friend,” I whisper. Then, because I’m not sure how to proceed after that, I stiffly turn back to my notes. Remus, ever the gentleman, goes back to his book and doesn’t push me any further. 
I don’t think anyone had ever told me before that it was okay to be anything less than perfect, but his words become my mantra for the day. 
“It will be okay if I’m not perfect,” I think to myself as I walk into the classroom. 
I take a seat next to Narcissa. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 
The professor instructs us to start. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 
I read over every question three times. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 
I double check each of my answers. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 
I finish the last question. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 
I walk up to the front of the class and turn in my test. It will be okay if I’m not perfect. 
As I leave the classroom I’ve almost convinced myself that it will be okay if I’m not perfect. 
My stomach begins to churn and I walk straight to the nearest bathroom, into one of the stalls, and promptly begin to lose my breakfast. I hear the door open behind me when I’ve stopped heaving. 
“Think you’ve found yourself in the wrong bathroom, Princess,” someone says mockingly. Footsteps come closer to me. “Oh shit, are you okay?”
I hadn’t bothered to lock the stall door behind me, so I’m able to turn and see Sirius Black. Again. I give him a horrified look. 
“What the bloody hell are you doing in the girls’ room?” I nearly shout at him.
“Actually you’re the one who’s walked into the boys’ room,” he informs me. I give him a disbelieving look until he shifts and my gaze falls on a line of urinals behind him. My face blushes profusely and I stare at Sirius, mortified. He gives me a pitying look. “It’s okay, pretty girl, you’re clearly not feeling well. Stay there for a moment.”
Still in shock, I stay put. I hear the sink running for a moment, then Sirius comes back with a damp towel. He hands it to me to wipe my face. 
“Thanks,” I murmur. 
“Don’t sweat it,” he replies. With a tender hand, he helps me to my feet when I’m ready. “Let’s get you to Madam Pomfrey, then.”
“Oh, no, that’s really not necessary. It must’ve just been something I had at breakfast,” I lie. 
Sirius gives me a disbelieving look. “You’ve clearly worried yourself sick and we both know it.”
I don’t reply as I follow him out of the bathroom. My plan was to start going in the direction of the hospital wing, then double back to the library to keep studying. Sirius’s plan was to follow me.
“I’m more than capable of walking myself to the hospital wing,” I say tersely. 
“And I’m more than capable of walking with you. I’m glad we’ve determined our abilities for this excursion.” 
I shoot him a glare that would scare off most other people. Sirius doesn’t even blink at me. My new plan: ignore Sirius as he insists on walking me to see Pomfrey. 
“How did you feel about it?” He asked after a moment. 
I don’t respond. 
“I personally thought some of the questions were a bit repetitive, like I had to explain myself multiple times.” 
I stay strong. 
“But maybe that’s a bad sign that I didn’t do as good as I thought.” 
Just keep staring straight ahead, he has to shut up eventually, I think to myself. 
“On the second question─”
“Would you just shut up already?” I snapped. I was stressed enough over how I did without reliving it with someone I didn’t even like. 
Sirius holds his hands up defensively. “Someone’s cranky,” he says with a laugh.
“I am not cranky, I just don’t particularly care to discuss the test with you.” My eyes roll of their own volition. 
“What should you care to discuss then?” He asks. 
“With you? Not much.” Maybe if I can discourage him enough he’ll grow bored and wander off. 
“It’s a bit of a trek to the hospital wing from here, though, and I’ve found conversation to be a great way to pass time.” Of course, I should know that Gryffindors are not so easily discouraged.
“I’ve found that there’s no reason for you to walk all the way to the hospital wing with me.” 
“Wow, are you like this all the time?” He finally snaps back.
“Like what?” I pretend to be ignorant. 
He scoffs at me. “Rude, Princess. Are you always so rude?”
I flare up at the nickname. The way he says it, it feels like he knows I don’t like it. 
“Nobody asked you to pester me,” I say. 
“Most people would consider this an act of kindness, not pestering.”
“How unfortunate for you that I am not like most people.” 
“It would do you a bit of good to learn something from them, maybe you could start with some manners.”
“I’m perfectly well mannered, thank you very much. You’re the one who didn’t listen when I told you I was fine to walk by myself, and you’re the one working yourself up by staying with me when you could bug off to literally anywhere else.” With that I begin to speed up to leave him behind.
Sirius actually stops for just a moment, as if really considering my words. Then he rushes to catch up to me. “No, I want to know what’s so bloody great about you,” he says. 
I give him a strange look. “I never claimed for anything to be so great about me.”
“Maybe not but you sure act like it, so tell me: what is so bloody great about you? What makes you so special that you think yourself better than everyone else here?”
It’s my turn to stop in my tracks. “Who the hell said I think I’m better than everyone?”
“No one has to say it, Princess.” The way he says Princess feels like venom on his tongue. 
I want to hit him. Punch him in the face and give him a great bloody nose. I want to hex him. Maybe knock him off his feet. I want to scream at him. Scream that I don’t think myself better than everyone, that I’m just an imposter pretending to be perfect all the time. 
It will be okay if I’m not perfect.
Tears start to well in my eyes. I haven’t cried since I was eleven and my family was getting ready to drop me off at Hogwarts for the first time. 
“Do not cry, darling, it’s unbecoming,” my mother says to me. “Soon you will be sorted into Slytherin and prepare to continue your family’s legacy. You must show strength at all times, even if you do not feel it. We can not be perceived as weak.”
A single tear snakes out of the corner of my eye and down the apple of my cheek. I look down and it falls to the ground by my feet. Another tear falls, and before I know it I am fully crying. I start to struggle to breathe. 
When I look back up to Sirius he looks terrified. He must think he’s what’s made me cry. The truth is it’s the last five years that have built up to weigh on me continually. It’s the way my life was gilded and no one had ever cared to look below the surface until a few weeks ago when Remus Lupin offered to help me study. Until James Potter offered to go for a run. Until Sirius Black offered me a cup of tea. 
My quiet tears begin to turn into choked sobbing as I realize how sad my life really was, that these three Gryffindors had shown me a kind of genuine caring that I hadn’t known could exist. 
Hesitantly, Sirius takes my hand to lead me over to a nearby bench so I can sit down and try to collect myself. It takes several minutes for me to control my breathing, and several more for my tears to subside. I finally look down to notice that I’m still holding Sirius’s hand, that I’d actually been holding it quite firmly. 
“Oh, Merlin, I’m so sorry,” I say, my voice hoarse, as I release his hand from my grasp. “You were right. Everything is so very complicated.”
Sirius gives me that same look he did last night, and I realize. He wasn’t sad for me, he understood me. But how was it fair that he would get to leave, when his brother and I were left behind with our authoritarian families? Selfishly, I think maybe he could show me the way.
I sit there, lost in my thoughts, for a long while. Sirius stays with me. Eventually the bells toll to indicate it was time for lunch. When I glance up at Sirius, he’s already looking at me. 
“Can I make you an offer?” He asks. 
I grow weary at his words. “I would suppose that depends on what the offer is.”
“Well, your eyes are red and swollen and you’ve got mascara tracked down your cheeks,” he starts and I grow horrified as I realize what I must look like. There was no way I could go into the Great Hall looking like the mess I surely am. He lets out a small laugh at my expression. “Why don’t you go clean up, and I’ll grab us some lunch from the Great Hall. We can meet in the south courtyard.”
I was amazed that even after I’d been so mean to him, he would still be so kind to me. 
“That would be quite nice actually. Thank you,” I reply softly. 
Sirius gives me a swift nod, then helps me to stand up. We go our separate ways, me to my dorm to wash my face and apply some fresh mascara and concealer, and Sirius to the Great Hall. 
I’ve just sat down in a corner of the courtyard for a couple minutes when Sirius shows up. I try not to look too shocked when James and Remus appear with him. Of course, I knew they were all friends, they went galavanting around the entire school proclaiming themselves marauders, but I’d never interacted with all three of them together. 
It suddenly occurs to me that they likely share a dorm, and very well could have planned this all to be some grand prank on me. But they had all seemed so genuinely kind to me until this point, and I was so tired of constantly second guessing everyone’s intentions. I decided that if this were some prank I would let them have their fun at me, then show them the real wrath of Slytherin. 
The three of them quickly set up a small picnic and begin lighthearted conversation. James compliments the way my hair looks today. Sirius teases James for the way his hair looks everyday, although I would argue it flatters him I don’t say that aloud. Remus gives me a knowing look as the two begin bickering. 
Spending time with the three of them is easy, and feels right. Like it was always meant to be the four of us all together. None of them mentions my earlier breakdown, or even anything to do with our tests. I wonder what Sirius told them before they all came out here. Whatever it was, none of them shows me any judgment so I can guess he must have skipped over my rude behavior. 
I’m sad when the bells ring again to signify the end of lunch. We clean up our area of the courtyard, then head back inside. Over the course of my time with the boys I feel my spirits lifted significantly, feeling much better and ready to face the next two weeks of tests. 
It will be okay if I’m not perfect, I think to myself again, and this time I really do believe it. Because even if I’m only just getting to know Remus, James, and Sirius, I know that they are my friends and they’ll be there for me.
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bri-cheeses · 1 day
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So I was just thinking… the Marauders Map.
They can obviously see everyone on that thing, right? And you know that James would get out the map just to look at Regulus and everything… so I’m thinking that one day, James is looking for Regulus, and his eye catches on Evan, who’s in an abandoned classroom. And he obviously knows that Evan is one of Reg’s friends, so he gets curious and lingers on him for a bit, wondering why he’s just waiting around in an empty room. Then he notices a for making its way closer and closer, and it’s Barty, who enters the classroom and meets up with Evan and James is like: wow. Such good friends.
And if their dots are a little too close together, he doesn’t notice, his eye having already moved on to look for Regulus again. But it keeps happening, and James finally thinks it’s odd enough to ask Regulus about why Barty and Evan hang out together so much, just the two of them. And Regulus stops and stares at him and says very flatly: what.
And James explains that he keeps on seeing them on the map (the existence of which Regulus has been informed of by this point) in abandoned classrooms, their names practically overlapping. James still doesn’t think much of it, just slightly confused, but Regulus knows.
So Regulus gets up and leaves with nothing more than a “see you later” over his shoulder, then immediately confronts Barty and Evan in the dorms. Discreetly, though, subtly inquiring about their lives and if anything interesting’s happened, and oh, Barty, how’s that girl you were seeing for a while just a little bit ago? And while he’s doing this, he’s watching their reactions, seeing their shared glances and (on Evan’s part, when Reg brings up that girl) jealous expressions.
By the end of it, he’s sure that there’s something going on between them.
Reg nods along to something Evan is saying from where he’s perched much too comfortably on Barty’s bed, and when he finishes speaking, Reg finally says straight out, “Right. So tell me, when did you two start sleeping together?”
The stunned silence that follows is almost comical, Evan’s mouth dropping open in astonishment. Barty starts to double over in laughter, wheezing about how it only took a couple of weeks for Regulus to catch on and wow, Evs, isn’t that hilarious? Evan still looks horrified, but comes around once he realizes that this means Barty can come sit next to him, put his arm around him, and have it not be questioned.
Anyways, I just imagine the following conversation to be hilarious. Regulus doesn’t want to hear details, Barty is all too keen on sharing them, Evan very clearly does not want to be there—ugh. Pure amusement. Chef’s kiss, really.
Yeah, so I just think that the whole James-accidentally-outing-Evan-and-Barty-to-Regulus thing is a fun scenario to imagine
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lovingache · 2 days
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—unrequited love oikawa x unpopular!childhood friend!reader
this is angst, be forewarned. based on gold rush by taylor swift. gn! reader, angst, i'm probably gonna write a part 2 with a happy ending because this made me sad. not proofread.
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oikawa who's so popular and so sweet to all of the girls that talk to him. who entertains their squeals and giggles, their requests for photos, for autographs, for hugs. who's known as the beloved, golden boy, favourite of Seijoh. who loves this and soaks it up every single time a group gathers around him, whose eyes shine brighter when someone praises him, especially when it's you
who frowns when you tell him that you're uncomfortable around the people he's around sometimes. how you can feel how they look at you differently. how they see you as a nuisance, a roadblock, to get to him. whose heart shatters when you tell him that you're going to try to find your own group of friends like he has, who wants to keep you here, right here with him like it always has been, but who agrees and cheerily tells you that you can do it
who feels so guilty when he's not there to tell off the people who make fun of you or make you feel invisible; who wants to, for the only other time in his life, become violent against the people that ever dared to make you feel like shit. who sobs with you as he reassures you that he's your friend, your best friend, and that he loves you so much. who repeats your name as he rocks you back and forth and swears that no one will ever be able to make you feel that way— not when he's around.
oikawa who looks at you with the deepest scarlet painting his face when you ask him once so casually, as easy as breathing, "what must it be like to grow up as beautiful as you, toru?" who looks at you, confused, and wants to shake you and ask you the same thing. who wants to kiss that stupid doubtful look off your face. who scoffs and waves it off when you tell him everybody wants him, that everyone wonders what it'd be like to love him. who wants to scream at you when you insinuate that, maybe, he'll replace you soon— the way your eyes brim with unshed tears and your lips pout makes him want to tear his own heart out and hand it to you, still beating, because his heart has only ever beaten for you.
oikawa who doesn't know how you've been in love with him since you could conceptualize the idea of love. who doesn't realize that you pull away from him too quickly from soft, sweet hugs, that you glare at his whispered compliments, that you avoid ever being alone with him for too long because you don't know how long you can stand being there with him without kissing him and baring your soul to him
who doesn't realize that you only ever spent valentine's day with him. patiently waiting until after he was done talking to all of the girls that came bearing gifts for him to give him yours. who doesn't understand that his sweet smile and grateful words wormed their way into your heart, your dreams. how you dreamed of him as often as breathing, as easy as smiling when he makes a stupid joke. who never knew or realized, or maybe he did but never wanted to make things awkward by turning you down, just how clearly in love with him you are.
oikawa who's so afraid of losing you, of freaking you out, or making you feel as if he were pressuring you into anything that he just doesn't end up making a move on you for the entirety of high school. who stares at you from across any room you two happen to be in, who loves it when you argue with him, loves it when you glare at him or smile or, fuck, anything. he'd take you giving that annoyed look when he gives you a compliment over anything else in his life and god damn it why is it so damn hard to convince himself to make a move on you
who would give up the world for you. would scorn his beloved sport, his near celebrity status at school and in town, if it meant you became his. if it meant you'd understand the gravity of what he feels for you. who'd forego the praise from everyone else if only you'd praise him more often, or tell him off, or anything to indicate that you don't just look at him as the snot-faced little boy he was when you first became friends all those years ago
who looks at you with so much sadness in his eyes when he tells you in your first year of university that he's going off to Argentina. who cries hard with you (you both aren't even really sure why you two are crying so hard) as he holds onto you as if you were going to disappear the minute he steps onto the plane. who make you promise that it's still going to be you and him, best friends, as always. that he'll be back as soon as humanly possible. as soon as he's a champion, a winner. who promises himself that when he wins that big, coveted tournament on the international stage, then he'll be good enough to ask you out. to tell you how much he loves you. how it's always ever been you.
oikawa whose heart shatters into a trillion pieces when he checks his phone one practice
who has to excuse himself in fragmented spanish from the court
who can barely choke out the words as he stumbles into the bathroom
whose eyes sting and who curses himself in the mirror when he reads and re-reads and re-reads the words he never wanted to read in his life, not from you, never from you:
"i met someone and i think i'm falling for them"
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janeyseymour · 1 day
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chosen family
summary: jacob hill has always been like something of a son to Melissa Schemmenti. You, Melissa's partner, make him realize that.
WC: ~3.3k
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Melissa Schemmenti has always been drawn to people who could not be further from herself. It’s always been that way for her. 
You are not the exception. You couldn’t be more different than the fiery redheaded teacher. Just like everyone else to work there that she is close with, you couldn’t be more different. You’ve picked up on this pattern. You’ve also picked up on other things concerning your new colleagues.
Barbara Howard is a perfect example of being entirely different from Melissa Schemmenti- her work wife, her platonic soulmate until the end of time. The first day, you were made very aware that Melissa Schemmenti and Barbara Howard were something of work wives and platonic soulmates. While yes, they both attend church every Sunday, the kindergarten teacher is much more devout. Barbara Howard is a rule follower, where Melissa bends the rules in ways nobody ever thought possible. While Barbara Howard is often steady and stable, Melissa Schemmenti could light someone’s car on fire over something as trivial as picking up the wrong pasta sauce on the way home.
Janine Teagues, someone who radiates sunshine and positivity, is somewhat of a daughter or a niece to the redhead. The same goes for Gregory- he’s like a son or nephew, in an odd way. You’ve learned that one thing to be aware of is that Janine is never stopping- she’s always going to the point of exhaustion and usually ends up creating a bigger mess than the one she was trying to clean up in the first place. You’ve learned that her and Gregory are dating; but apparently they’ve only officially been dating for a few months now. Before then, they’ve been the ‘will they, won’t they’ talk of the staff room.
Mr. Johnson has such a free spirit that it irritates Melissa at times. But they see eye to eye when it comes to important things in life- like how they would survive on a desert island or a zombie apocalypse. The two have a friendship that confuses both of them. He is there for fun, despite having a crucial part in the school.
Ava Coleman, at one point an enigma to the teacher, has a special spot in Melissa’s heart. At first, it was hatred. And then it was something of a kinship. Ava Coleman may not be conventional by any means, but it worked. Melissa found that she quite liked the zest and interesting takes that the principal held with her. It took time, but they found a rhythm, and that rhythm has since been perfected. Ava Coleman, much like the custodian, wants all fun and no work.
And that left Jacob Hill. Jacob hill, a soft and at times skittish gay man that Melissa couldn’t stand when he first was employed by the city of Philadelphia. But now? Now they’re like two peas in a pod. They’re quite the unconventional pair- a very soft and somewhat skittish gay man and a tough, mob-like redhead. But they seem to work. They seem to work far better than anyone had expected, including the two living together. And the last thing that you’ve come to understand about the young man is that Jacob Hill is something of a son to the fiery second grade teacher. When you first started working here, you actually did think that Jacob was her son- that was quickly laughed off by Janine and she told you the truth of the matter. 
And since you’ve worked at Abbott, you’ve become quite close with the second grade teacher. You’re actually dating her now. It’s something that you’re still having a hard time grappling with. How could someone as beautiful and as… Melissa, as she is end up with someone like you?
But it seems to work out. The green eyed woman seems to be drawn to people who could not be further from her. 
Jacob has quickly become a staple at the apartment that the two of you now share, him moving out a few months ago- it makes sense in all actuality. He and Melissa are quite close, and in turn the two of you are closer now as well.
You see how happy it makes your girlfriend to have the always grinning, and yet somehow still always subtly cynical, man around. You see it when she’s able to make him a plate of dinner, share lunch portions with him, when she’s able to give him advice (in teaching or other), when he’s settling on the couch with the two of you to watch what they know refer to as ‘their’ show. Melissa mothers him more than she mothers Janine, leaving that job to her platonic work wife. It’s a sweet little relationship that the two of them hold very dear to their hearts. 
You’re about to enter the staff room when you hear the two of them chatting quietly over their lunches.
“You’re still coming over tonight to watch, right?” you hear your girlfriend ask.
You can hear Jacob scoff. “Of course I am. Where else would I be?”
“I figured now that you’re seeing Ravi a bit more seriously, maybe you would want to-”
“Mel Mel, no,” you hear the middle grades teacher laugh. You can practically see him rolling his eyes. “Why would I want to be anywhere else?”
You see this as a good time to enter the room, taking your seat next to the redhead. You peck her cheek delicately before diving into your leftovers from last nights Schemmenti family dinner.
“Jake’s coming over for dinner tonight, that okay?” Green eyes look into yours for any sort of hesitation from you.
“He knows he’s always welcome to come over.”
So that’s how you spend that night. You’re in the recliner reading your book while Jacob and Melissa veg out on the couch with their popcorn and sour cream and onion flavoring. They each have a glass of wine, and they’re deep into conversation about who is slighting who and why. It makes you chuckle as you half listen to their conversation, half read about the drama that is happening in your book.
“What are you reading?” Jacob asks. Only then do you look up from your book and realize that your girlfriend is nowhere to be seen.
You show him the cover before asking, “Where’d Mel go?”
“Bathroom,” he tells you. “Then we’re going to watch a movie since our show is over… she thought it might be a nice way to wind down, and who am I to deny that?”
“You’re such a good son to her, you know,” you say casually as you return your attention back to your book. You flip the page. 
Jacob is left searching for words. “She’s not my mother.”
“No, but you’re still the best son she has,” you shrug and reach over to pop a piece of popcorn in your mouth.
He goes to say more, but Melissa returns, reaching for the blanket that is draped over the edge of the couch. She lays it across the two of them before reaching for the remote to turn on whatever movie the two of them will be watching. Jacob swears he sees a smirk dancing across your lips. And he’s right- you are smirking. Because now you know he’s thinking about what you said.
He supposes he sees it- the way that Melissa mothers him. If he’s being honest with himself, his own mother doesn’t even treat him like this anymore. It’s… nice to have someone care for him like that. 
That night ends in Melissa sending Jacob off to his house with a Tupperware container full of Braciole and a “Text me when you’re home and safe in your apartment!”
As time goes on, your words linger in Jacob’s head. He’s like the son Melissa never had. And that is oddly okay with him- he like’s being the best son that your girlfriend has.
And when he and Ravi end with a messy breakup, your girlfriend is the first person he calls. He doesn’t call Janine, he doesn’t call Gregory, he doesn’t even call his own mother. No. The first person that crosses his mind as he leaves Ravi’s apartment for the last time is Melissa.
It’s late, and logically he knows that she probably isn’t awake and hasn’t been for hours. But he wants some maternal love and dials anyway.
You and your girlfriend are curled up in bed- her asleep, and you on the verge of sleep- when her phone rings to life.
“Who the fuck is calling at…” she blinks her eyes awake and glances at the clock. “1:30 in the morning?”
“Just let it go,” you sigh softly.
She reaches for her phone, and when you expect her to set it back down and pull you into her arms again, she doesn’t. Instead, her voice sounds concerned.
“Jacob?” is the only thing that she says into the phone.
You can hear his labored breaths. He doesn’t speak.
“Jake,” your girlfriend sighs. “Jacob, what’s going on? It’s 1:30 in the morning.”
“I- I know,” he chokes out. “But I- Ravi and I just broke up, and I didn’t know who else to call.”
“Oh,” Melissa’s face absolutely drops. She knows how much the social studies teacher liked the firefighter.
“I- I’m sorry,” he says pathetically into the phone. “I- I don’t even know why I called. Get back to-”
The redhead clears her throat, trying to get any of the remaining sleep out of her voice before she speaks again. “We’re still up. Come over.”
“It’s okay,” the distraught man sighs into the phone. “I can just…”
“Jacob, your ass better be here within the next thirty minutes,” Melissa tells him sternly. “You called me, you clearly don’t want to be alone, we were already up, so just come over.”
And that’s how you end up curled up next to your girlfriend, a glass of white wine in hand while Melissa sits in her spot, two glasses of red wine poured out for when her work son arrives.
“Babe, when he gets here though-”
“When he gets here, I’m moving to my recliner so you can mother him,” you roll your eyes as you yawn. “I don’t even know why I have to be here when he comes in.”
“Because I told him we were both up, and I don’t want him to think that we got out of bed for him,” Melissa tells you.
You smile at her softly as you rest your head on her shoulder. “You’re a good mother to him.”
“He’s not my son,” she chuckles.
“No, I know,” you sigh. “But he might as well be at this point. He called you, not his own mother.”
That thought makes her quirk her head to the side, thinking on this sentiment. She doesn’t have much time though, because Jacob is at the door knocking softly. You pick your head up and stand with her. While Melissa makes her way to the door, you take up the space in your recliner and curl up under the blanket, immediately reaching for the television remote.
You hear his sniffles as he comes in. He kicks off his shoes, and your girlfriend ushers him to the couch. She hands him the wine and wraps her arms around him. All Jacob can do is cry. 
The redhead hushes her coworker gently, promising him that everything will be okay. And Jacob believes that- because if Melissa is saying it, it has to be true.
That night ends with him falling asleep on your girlfriend’s shoulder, and Melissa lays him down on the couch when the two of you finally decide to retire back to bed. She pulls the afghan from the back of the couch and gently drapes it over his body before running the tip of her index finger over his cheek.
“You’ll be alright, hun,” she whispers to him. Then she turns back to you and takes your hand.
As the two of you are curling up in bed for the second time that night, you hum, “You really would make a wonderful mother.”
When the time comes that you finally (according to Jacob and Janine) think about getting engaged and married to Melissa, Jacob could not want to be in on it more. He helps you find the perfect ring, he helps you plan it all, and he even insists on hiding out in the shadows in order to capture the event.
“Trying to make your mom happy?” you tease him.
He rolls his eyes with a smirk on his face. “She’s not my mother, but… Melissa being happy is all all of us want.”
When you do end up proposing to her, you expect Barbara to be the first person that your girlfriend flies into the arms of. Instead, it’s Jacob. Barbara, of course, is second. But Jacob seems absolutely ecstatic, telling the redhead that he helped with almost every aspect of the proposal. Melissa tells him that she couldn’t have wished for it to be anything else, and that she was very proud of him. Jacob blushes profusely, and it reminds all three of you just how close your Abbott family really is.
As wedding plans come along, Jacob is there for all of it. It’s a sweet thing. He looks like a kid in the candy store as Melissa, Barbara, and he look for the perfect outfit to get married in. Barbara is of course Melissa’s matron of honor, and Jacob is just happy to be there. He has no idea that at this appointment, Melissa is also going to be having him try on suits to match the bridal party.
“So,” Jacob leans forward with excitement. “What colors are you planning on doing for the bridal parties?!”
“Y/N and I decided that a nice salmony pink color might be good,” Melissa says with a twinkle in her eye. “So… you better start looking at ties and suits, mister.”
Barbara, who knew that her best friend was going to reveal this bit of information, grins. Meanwhile, Jacob’s jaw absolutely drops. He’s astounded.
“What? Why would I have to find a tie for-”
“Did you really think I wouldn’t have you in my wedding party?” the redhead rolls her eyes as she opens up her arms. “You’re as close to a son as I’m going to get as of right now. Of course you’re in the wedding.”
Tears begin to pour over the younger man’s face as he fully tackles his work mother in a hug. “Oh my god.”
“I don’t know,” he chuckles through his tears. “I just thought that I was here to-”
“To help me pick out my outfit, but also to help figure out the perfect color that you’ll be wearing and to get fitted for a suit, if you want,” Melissa tells him.
Barbara passes out three glasses of champagne in celebration.
When your wedding day finally comes, you’re standing up at the altar in your own suit as you await the moment that Melissa will be walked down the aisle by none other than Mr. Johnson (he was elated when your fiancee explained to him that he was something of a father figure to him). 
The ceremony is beautiful- perfect even. Everybody laughs, everybody sheds tears, everybody is just thrilled at the fact that the two of you are tying the knot.
The reception is a thrill. Both you and Melissa make small toasts, a few others speak, and then it’s time for dancing.
You have your first dance with your wife (good God, you can call her your wife now!), she dances with Mr. Johnson, you dance with your own father, and then… Melissa makes her way up to the microphone.
“Hey youse guys,” Melissa chuckles nervously. “I know everyone else wants to get to dancing, but there is one more special person that I’d like to dance with… if he’ll make his way up.”
Nobody stands, but your wife’s green eyes are trained on Jacob.
“Me?” he gasps. At Melissa’s nod, he stands hesitantly before making his way over. 
“Of course.” You see that those green eyes start to turn a little glassy, and she takes a deep breath to steady herself. “For those of you that don’t know… this is Jacob Hill- grade A pain in my ass turned something like a son to me.”
The two dance to a beautiful song written by Elton John, “Chosen Family”. By the end of it, there are no dry eyes in the audience. It’s a song that feels like it was written for them.
And then the night is off, everyone is dancing, and you’re just relishing in this beautiful moment that you have in your hands.
Jacob is dancing near the two of you when you decide to make your way over.
“Hey,” you check him with your hip gently. “Welcome to the family.”
The man smiles at you from ear to ear.
“You’re such a good son to her,” you compliment softly as you envelope him in a hug.
He just chuckles in your ear. “I know. I don’t know how I got so lucky to have her in my life.” Then his jaw drops. “Oh my god. Does this mean you’re like a weird sort of step-mom to me now?!”
As time goes on, you and your wife decide to try to expand the family. And somehow, by some grace of God (Melissa would tell you that it’s because Barbara prayed over you two night after night), you end up pregnant after the first treatment.
If you thought Jacob was a part of your household before, he’s only over more now. He’s constantly bringing over baby clothes and toys, helping Melissa to assemble the crib and the rocking chair as well as installing carseats into both of your cars, he’s bringing over remedies to help you with morning sickness and then creams and other things to help you feel the most comfortable that you can be during this pregnancy.
When you go into labor, he’s the first one Melissa calls, and then she calls Barbara.
You deliver a son, a beautiful baby boy. He’s perfect. And he has an even more perfect name.
“Go get Jake,” you tell your wife gently as you continue to cradle your son to your chest. “He deserves to meet his godson, and lord knows that boy has been sitting in the waiting room since he got your call.”
Melissa just chuckles as she stands from her place on your bed, kisses you softly, strokes the boy’s cheek, and then heads out.
She brings back both Barbara and Jacob, who immediately squeal upon seeing you as a mother for the first time. While Jacob fully thinks that you’ll hand the baby to your wife’s work-wife first, you actually hand the baby to him. He looks at this baby like he’s never seen anything more perfect.
“Do we have a name?” Barbara asks.
You smile at the man holding your newborn. “We do.”
“And it is?” Barbara prompts.
“Mel, do you want to tell him what his godson’s name is?” you prompt.
Jacob’s eyes go wide, and his jaw drops. “G-godson?”
“Godson,” you confirm, tears in your own eyes. You wipe at them gently as you lay back in the hospital bed.
“His name is,” Melissa chuckles through tears of her own as she makes her way over to the pair. “Milo Jacob Schemmenti… Milo meaning beloved, and Jacob, after you.”
“After… after me?” Jacob’s voice goes high as his eyes fill with even more tears. He holds the baby even closer to him, if that’s possible.
“Of course,” your wife smiles as she wraps a proud arm around him. “And if Milo turns out half as good as my first son, that kid is going to be set for life.”
TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @thesamesweetie @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @gwennybriggs @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @sapphicxrat @a-queen-and-her-throne @sunsol-22 @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo
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tac-the-unseen · 19 hours
Text
Slapping Slasher's Ass and Running away!
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Micheal Myers:
•He likes to believe he has complete control over his surroundings 
•He likes to imagine himself as a Jaguar; opportunistic, stealthy, adaptable, and an Apex predator
•And then there's you, here to snap them back to reality 
•If he's a leopard, you're an annoying bird that follows him 
•All this made clear when He's just standing in the kitchen and feels a hard smack on his Ass
•He whips his head around to see you, running at full speed and giggling 
•For a moment he's completely stunned 
•But only for a moment 
•He’s quick on your heels 
•In less than 10 seconds he's holding you in the air by your shirt, like holding a cat by its scruff
•You can immediately tell through the mask how pissed he is
•But for a few seconds he just leaves you suspended in the air, and soon enough he makes his decision. 
•He walks to your shared bedroom and drops you onto the bed
•You think you're in for some sexy-funtime
•That quickly washes away when Michael turns around and walk out the door 
•When you get up to follow you find that he's locks you in by putting a chair under the handle 
•This man is so sick of your shit, but loves you too much to actually harm you
•He just put you in time out while he waits for the stinging on his ass to go away
Billy loomis & Stu macher:
•When the school day ends you're walking towards the front door, you spot both of your boyfriends walking towards the door too
•With the coast clear of teachers and most other students you knew what you had to do
•You rub your hands together diabolically and begins to run towards them
•when you're finally in the perfect position, you wind your hands back and as hard as you can, you slap their ass
•They both tense up and freeze
•When they see you running past them and laughing, they are quick to give chase
•They Chase you down the field and into the parking lot
•Stu was the one to tackle you onto the grass, making sure to protect your head when you fall
•Stu pins you down while Billy catches up 
•When (a winded) Billy reaches you two he drops to his knees and starts tickling you
•Neither boy takes to seriously and think it's a playful invention to rough house and playfully fight
Thomas Hewitt:
•While he was meticulously cutting up some cow legs, you spotted a golden opportunity 
•Thom’s fat ass in perfect position 
•After circling him, carrying the same box of tools, you decide to go for the kill
•”Tommy!” You shout while running past him
•Your hand makes firm contact with the side of his rear 
•You leave a blazing trail up the stairs while Thom processes what happened
•Thom watches you run away while his ass stings 
•At most he's confused 
•He just goes back to work 
Bubba Sawyer:
•You were playing with him outside
•Running around, picking flowers, picking up pebbles, roughhousing
•While play fighting you slap is ass and run away hoping he would chase you
•instead he stands for confused 
•after an awkward couple seconds, you realize he's not going to chase you, So you walk back to him 
•You ask if He's okay and realize his eyes is watering 
•After a frantic apology and check over You managed to figure out that he's not hurt 
•Bubba Just associates spanking with being bad/bad behavior 
•He was upset because he thought you were punishing him for being too rough 
•You made it up to him by making him a flower crown 
Bo Sinclair:
•This could go one of two ways
•He could be really into it OR he could freak out
•It depends on what mood you catch him in
•One day he'll think it's sexy and want you to do it again 
•The next he'll have a PTSD attack remembering his childhood 
•It's honestly best if you keep your hands to yourself
Vincent Sinclair:
•He honestly thought you did it by accident 
•He didn't understand that you were trying to play 
•He didn't react at all 
•You have to tell him what you're trying to do 
•He gets very embarrassed about not understanding that he kind of shut down for the day 
•He remains hunched over on his desk for the rest of the day 
Lester Sinclair:
•It honestly doesn't matter what you do to Lester, He's just happy you're giving him attention 
•The man is the definition of a puppy 
•He's just happy to be here 
•So if you want to play a game of Chase, He’lll Chase
•As soon as you slap and run away he's hot on your heels 
•He chases you through a field and down the roads 
•When he catches you he's out of breath and takes a second to dry heave 
•Then he'll hug and kiss you while walking back to the Truck 
Billy Lenz:
•Billy is one of the characters you Can not hit
•You think he'd be into to quick slap, but he has the opposite reaction 
•He thinks you're planning on hurting him And will either attack you or hide 
•If he chooses to attack, You're likely going to have to hold him down until he calms 
•If he hides, leave him alone
•trying to find him would be like walking into a coyote's den
•eventually he'll come back out because you're the only person that still talks to him 
•He figures it's better to be physically abused than be lonely 
•Good luck explaining that it was just a joke 
Brahms Heelshire:
•He was acting up after you told him the grocery boy was coming today
•He was whining about how you don't need to interact with him and how the help shouldn't be seen or heard
•You remind them that you're technically ‘the help’ and he pouts on the couch 
•When the doorbell rings he immediately jumps up to try to stop you 
•You have a light bulb moment
•You get closer, reach around, and slap his ass
•You almost immediately push past him to run to the door 
•Brahms is quick to follow, but not quick enough
•You swing open the door before Brahms can reach you
•He hides just in time, and proceeds to stew behind the door.
Hannibal Lecter:
•While he was cooking up some breakfast you come up behind him and hug him
•He greets you and continues to cook 
•You two have a lazy conversation while you lean your head against his shoulders 
•Deciding he's not pay enough attention to you come up with a plan
•You steal one of his knives, slap his ass, and bolt out of the kitchen 
•He gives you about a 5-second Head start before he begins his hunt 
•In that time He turns off the stove and allows himself time to find you
•He slowly starts his prowl 
•Checking doors, behind furniture, around the stairs, and behind curtains 
•When he finds you, he pounces and pulls you into a pinning hug
•He forces the knife from your hand and kisses your forehead
•”Let me finish breakfast, then I'll spend time with you.”
Will Graham:
•While on the world's most boring fishing trip (Will Even admitted this trip sucked) You watch as no lines get tugged
•board out of your mind you decide to at least mess around 
•While Will was leaning over to check his lines you slap his ass as hard as to can, which throws him into the calm river
•You howl with laughter as Will get thrown overboard 
•When he resurfaces we comes back up with a scowls on his lips, but a playful look in his eyes
•”You suck” he chuckles while you help him back in
•As soon as he's on board, he throws you into the water and laughs
The Lost Boys:
•All the boys are up for a good chase, But they all have different reactions 
•David
-Slapping David's ass takes balls
-As soon as you try to run he has you by the arm 
-He smirks and pulls you towards him
-”Oh-ho-ho, where do you think you're going?”
-If you play your cards right he'll let you go to properly chase you 
-All’s well and good before he flies at you like a hawk
•Dwayne
-He'll let you run away But as soon as you're out of sight the game is on 
-It doesn't matter where you're at 
-The boardwalk, the cave, the forest, the beach 
-He sprints and tackles you to the floor 
-”Did you honestly believe you could outrun a vampire?” He muses
-could turn playful, could turn romantic 
•Paul
-as soon as your hand collides with his ass, he shrieks 
-He playful pretends he's wounded 
-He writhes on the ground, cries fake tears, hand over forehead
-”Why should you do this to me!” 
-”I thought you loved me!” 
-Walks around all day telling his brothers that you abuse him 
-gives you love bites while telling his tale of woe 
•Marko
-when you slap his ass he lets out a moan that causes both of you to freeze 
-after a few seconds Marko whips around 
-”Tell no one.” He says in a completely serious voice 
-You know for a fact the other would make fun of him for the rest of his unnatural life 
-Every time you're behind him, he turns around to face you So it never happens again
Thanks for reading <3
Sorry this took so long! I've had a busy week!
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sweetcandyhigh · 3 days
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Sending the randomest shit to a pre-relationship Megumi would be the funniest thing. I mean this would before he even realized he had feelings or that you had feelings for him. The poor guy was clueless. And you thought it was hilarious.
Let’s start this off by saying you and Megumi were close, but so were all of you guys, it was a tight nit circle. But Megumi was just different than the rest. So you spent a lot of time together, and texting when you couldn’t be.
So one night you guys as well as Itadori and Nobara were sitting in Megumi’s dorm (the cleanest), just lounging have some random ass conversations. And a few minutes later Megumi was picking up his phone, seeing a message from you. With a raised brow he looked at the simple blue heart emoji you sent, with the most weirded out face you had ever seen him make. Which in turn caused you to burst out laughing getting a few looks from the other two.
Another encounter of this was when you were training. A lax a daisy school day, sparring with each other and some of the 2nd years. And Megumi looked stunning, sweaty and running his hands through his hair every few seconds had you salivating. This garnered another one of your unfiltered texts, and while you knew what you could and couldn’t get away with, you always teetered on that line.
So a “God Damn” text was sent his way. Course he didn’t see that until a few seconds later where he pulled up the bottom half of his uniform top up to wick away the sweat from his face. His eyes went wide as he gave you a look that you couldn’t quite read, a giggle fallin from your lips.
This had happened so many times Megumi decided to enlist Itadori’s help, confused as to what you were getting at. “Itadori,” his calm voice called out, maybe one of the only times he said his name without being irritated with his fellow classmate. The pink-haired teen’s ears perked up, “Yeah Fushiguro?” He called looking up only for a phone to be shoved in his face. Megumi wasn’t good at asking for help and this was the closest it was gonna get, “Read.”
As Itadori’s eyes filtered over the messages a smirk resonated on his face, “I don’t know man, seems like she’s into ya,” he said with a way too toothy grin. Megumi’s brows furrowed as he shook his head, “Not possible,” he huffed out causing Itadori to snicker, “I’m telling you dude that’s what it is.”
And from that day on Megumi was a little too aware of everything you did around him, the dots connecting in his head. But how did he feel about this? He had no clue, absolutely none.
That’s when he went to Nobara, once again someone he wouldn’t normally go to. “Nobara?” He called out the same way he did Itadori’s name, and her ears perking up the same way. “Oh?” She said with a soft snicker, causing Megumi to roll his eyes. Once the situation was explained Nobara’s brow never stopped being raised, “So?” She grumbled eliciting a groan from Megumi, “How am I supposed to feel?”
She shook her head, a tsk coming from her mouth, “Now cmon on Megumi, you’d be passing up a great chance with em.” His brows raised before shaking his head, “That’s not what I’m asking.” Nobara was now the one groaning, “Look, I can’t tell you how you feel, but I’ve seen the way you look at her.”
And let’s just say Megumi was even more confused when he left that conversation, and it didn’t help when he bumped into you. His face was beet red, one of the only time you had seen him like that. “Everything ok Gumi?” His heart fluttered as he nodded, words caught in his throat. “Wanna hang out?” You tilted your head, his heart fluttered once more as he nodded. You smiled, happy he was gonna hang out with you, and his heart fluttered once more.
Let’s just say Megumi never thought he’d be the guy to be in a relationship. He wouldn’t be the guy to want someone. And never did he ever think he’d be the first to confess. Yet here he was muttering the words out, the same calm and collected voice now just a little more shaky.
And while you were flabbergasted of course you accepted, cause you felt exactly the same.
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apomaro-mellow · 21 hours
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Steddie Pov
Nancy&Robin pov
Steve felt relief when Billy was taken away. Something had been shot into his side that made him fall asleep and the humans had lifted him from the tank. He didn't care where to, as long as it was far away. Steve hid in his cave, tending to his wounds. At first, the alpha had postured like he owned the whole tank, nevermind that Steve had been here first.
The moment he caught a whiff of Steve's omega scent, it had all changed. Whenever he went on his tirades then, it wasn't just to get Steve to cede any territory or food he had. He wanted him to submit as an omega does to an alpha. Billy had a gash on his shoulder from where Steve had bit him for his trouble. Steve wasn't unscathed, but the humans seemed to finally realize that harmony wasn't going to happen so long as Billy was around.
But that decision hurt the trust he had in them to begin with and he couldn't help snapping at the first to try and approach him. A human came with a fish for him, a treat that he appreciated because it was hard to hunt with his injury. They helped with that as well and for the next few weeks, he was on the mend, enjoying all the space he had now that there wasn't an aggressive alpha bullying him.
He was in the middle of doing just that when the presence of another mer surprised him, causing him to jump back. The dark tendrils of their hair helped them blend into the kelp that Steve had been playing in. His gills flared a little. Alpha. Not another one. He bared his teeth and hissed, determined not to show any weakness.
The other mer jumped back and then swam away.
Steve floated there, a little confused. Had he really scared him off? He wasn't about to stay around and find out. He stayed near his cave, not willing to give up that protection. And the alpha stayed on the other side. There was a large slab of rock that worked as an unspoken divider between them. Steve liked to nap on that rock, it got the best light, but he wouldn't be doing that with this stranger around.
After about a week though, it was clear this one was so different from Billy. He didn't seek Steve out or encroach on his space, even if a bit more food was to be found on the omega's side. He was much more...playful too. Steve liked to swim up to the humans who would have their faces pressed to the glass, but the ones who would come inside were the ones he stayed away from.
Not this guy. Not only did he do more than swim up to them, he played around with them too, trying to entice them to a chase.
Steve started to make himself more available. He would sit on his rock and wait. His tank mate didn't know what to make of it at first. And then one day Steve felt a tug at his hair. He turned but only got a glimpse of a tail. What a juvenile game. But it only took a few more pokes like that before Steve was giving chase.
Most of the time, he let the other swim just out of reach. It was fun just to see how fast they could go. But then one day Steve wrapped his arms around his tail and brought them both down to the sand. He climbed up the alpha's body, pinning him down with a smile.
The alpha, Eddie smiled back up at him, not bothered at all that an omega had gotten the better of him. Steve's body alerted him to something that would be happening soon. His heat would be upon him. And he finally had a proper alpha to share it with. He just had to show Eddie that he was the omega he was meant to be with.
He took extra care in cleaning and primping and it showed when he noticed Eddie staring.
--------------------------
Eddie hadn't known what to make of the other creature in his tank at first. All he knew was that he didn't want to get any closer to those teeth. He liked to avoid conflict when he could. But the omega who had hissed at him was a far cry from the one before him now.
He found it hard not to stare at the shimmering scales or the flow of his frills on a normal day. But on this morning, the movements of Steve's tail were intentional. I'm beautiful, they said. And any offspring would be just as beautiful.
Eddie was inclined to agree. He showed his reciprocation when he caught a fish in his mouth, right in front of Steve. He glided over, offering it from his lips to Steve. I can provide. I can protect.
Steve accepted and for the first time Eddie was allowed into his cave. Their tails twisted as they undulated against each other, Steve's heat bringing on new sensations for both of them. Ready to mate, a slit opened below his hips, eagerly taking his alpha's knot.
It took a few days to show but his belly began to plump with eggs. Eddie saw one of the humans try to get too close and his instincts took over. Normally he was a friend to humans but this was his mate. And soon, Steve would lay his clutch. As the days went on and Steve got bigger, he left the cave less often, conscious of his vulnerable state.
Eddie was the one hunting and bringing food back, also standing guard anytime the humans came into the water. What if they took Steve away? Or hurt him?
One night, Steve tossed restlessly and Eddie scented the water around them. It was time. He settled behind his mate, twisting their tails together to help keep them anchored. Steve cooed as Eddie's hand found its way to his slit, the other rubbing his stomach. Eddie stroked the folds below, stimulating the nerves as Steve rolled his hips.
Eddie bit into his neck right as he reached his orgasm and with a press of his other hand the first egg came out. Eddie kept Steve loose and relaxed until they were all out. His vision in the dark was better than Steve's and he pushed the eggs so that they were against his skin. They were roughly the size of his palm.
He laid on the other side, nesting them between the two of them. He could already make out one guppy, wriggling just a little. Time would tell if the others would develop as well.
Once the eggs were laid, that freed Steve to leave the cave more often. But only when Eddie was on watch. Three out of the five didn't last, shriveling up. That just made Steve even more protective of the two that were still growing. When they finally broke free, tails flapping this way and that, neither of them could be more proud.
Already, Steve was ready for more, but it would need to wait until his next heat came.
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tallgirl14 · 3 days
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Chilchuck angst
I love this lil middle age man but i aslo live for angst so her are few my ideas because I need tell someone and if you have angst dm me we can talk about it
He carries a wallet size family portrait (when his girls were little) with him when he goes down in a dungeon, and he looks at it when he miss them. ( I feel like photos are probably pretty 💰💰 so they only had few consist wedding photo, baby photo mayjack she's fist born, then one of the whole family ) and this photo is chaotic and It makes him smile.
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This is the ONLY photo he has of his entire family and he hasent seen them in few years with his kids grown living there own lives and him and his wife are split this photos all he's got.
How far would this man go for this picture. I can see chilchuck getting badly hurt because he went back to grab it and as Marcille is lecturing him about his reckless action as she's healing him.
Marcille: "What could have been so important that you risk your life over??"
Chilchuck: "my family or what's left of it"
He shows her the photo and marcille feels her heart drop she finally got to learn something about him and its sad ( this miscommunication leads to his group to believe chil family is dead )
Chilchuck taught Mayjack how to pick locks, and in the manga, he says when he dies, if they need someone, she'd be their first choice. SO he obviously took her through dungeon showing her how to navigate because being locksmith in a shop vs. dungeon is night & day different, dungeon being high pace environment.
Could you imagine how traumatizing that would be if saw her dad die in front of her AND NOT KNOW THEY COULD BE REVIVED!! (Seeing anyone die would be scaring) Especially if she felt it was her fault.
At first, Mayjack was curious about going into a dungeon with her dad to see exactly what he does she rember as kid seeing him come home late tired excused but mostly worn down.
Whenever she asked him about his work as a kid he was always vague or if he did talk about it was pg version and normally he was just trying scare us about going into dungeon. BUT one thing he made very clear, he didn't want any of her or her sister near the dungeon, but now that she's an adult, he couldn't stop her.
" I still don't want you near the dungeon, but you are a skilled locksmith, so you would be valued and well paid. IF you're still interested, I'll have you shadow me on my next small job so you can see what it's like."
At first, it was like any job we met with the client went over to the terms dad took payment, and then we headed over to the dungeon. I was awestruck by the new environment, but it quickly became overstimulating it took me a moment to adjust. the first few levels, dad had pointed out things to avoid what were scams & how to detect traps and walked me through a few I felt confident. Most importantly, when talking jobs, always have a skilled healer. Now I realize why as we enter new room dad was working on trap I was observing the room when I noticed treasure chest peaking out corner not knowing it was a mimick.
Chilchuck was Halfway through picking his lock when his dad sense went off. He quickly looked around room and spotted may messing with mimick
Chilchuck: "MAYJACK TIMS! get away from that!!" He starts running towards her
May turned to look at her dad, confused " why I already unlocked it?"
Her body stiffened as she could feel presents inside the chest, but before mimick could attach, chilchuck pushed her out of the way taking damage as it jabbed one of its claws through his neck causing him to bleed everywhere all mayjack could do was watch in horror paralyzed with fear trying process what happened. One of group members took care of mimick while she scrambled to her feet to get to here dad trying to put pressure on his wound tears flooding out
"Nonononno im sorry I'm sorry 🥺 "
As chilchuck lay there dying, he was more concerned with the fact he could comfort his daughter. This wasn't how he wanted to see death for the first time. Afterwards, the healer from their group came over and assured her he was going to be fine as she worked on reviving him.
Chilchuck let out a gasp and cough out some blood that had remained stuck in his throat. He turns to mayjack " that's why I told you to stay near me..." He moves toward her noticing her hands are strained with his blood. " are you hurt?... may? "
She shakes her head, and tears start to fall down her face he pulls her in for a hug. " it's ok, I'm ok ... I'm right here. " she hugs him tight, and they stay in that embrace for a while. When they finally break the hug, chilchuck wipes tears from her face.
" im sorry you saw that... do you want to go home.? "
" but the job?"
Chilchuck shakes his head " don't worry about it I brought someone along for that exact reason"
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Note
The evil parent club thingy made me think about something if JJ did effect Tim to the point where he still thinks the joker and Harley are his parents imagine how it would impact his interactions and identity
Cuz Harley is good now so he could reasonably go to her and she was a therapist so she could help
But sometimes even if you hate a parent you still long to see them imagine how Tim would react to knowing that his mind sometimes wants him to just go to joker because his brain thinks joker is his dad still no matter how much he hates him
Tw: Abuse, torture, domestic abuse, brainwashing, child abuse, JJ
Yeah. The shitty part about domestic abuse is that it's not clear cut to the victim. Due to certain tactics (like love bombing), it may be hard for someone to realize that they are being abused or that it's the abuser's fault.
I haven't seen much of the Harley Quinn show, but I remember thinking that the first season showed this. Harley kept going back to Joker despite how he would hurt her. Leaving abusive relationships is grueling.
For Tim, he would know before and after the JJ period that Joker is a bad guy. A monster. Despite that, the brainwashing, electrocution, manipulation, etc. would be detrimental to his ability to be strictly rational. Add on that this happened when he was a kid and his brain was still developing?
It's understandable if Tim would have conflicting feelings about Joker and Harley. You're right that you can loathe your parents and still miss them. It is also reasonable that someone might miss their abuser due to emotional manipulation and other tactics employed. This is one of several reasons why people get stuck in a cycle of abuse.
For JJ specifically, I could go in depth about many layers. We could chat about why he would miss the Joker, the shame and confusion and horror he'd feel when he realizes it, his need to hide this realization from others, the many ways he may lash out or try to process his emotions/trauma, and overall how this would permanently change who he is as a person.
I think, and I am in no way a professional, that Tim would benefit from group therapy for domestic abuse victims. He wouldn't need to say who hurt him, but hearing others and their similar struggles may relieve some of the guilt and shame he feels. Due to his unique situation, he may need to be convinced that he does qualify for this group. Maybe Harley is the one to suggest it and support him. Maybe not.
She would not be able to be Tim's therapist due to her role in his abuse, their relationship, and her revoked license. However, she may still provide him support and care if Tim has enthusiastically expressed her presence as an aid rather than a trigger. Boundaries are important
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hxney-lemcn · 3 days
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See You Again — Your Fav Twst Guy x gn! reader
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summery: you don't realize just how much he loves you
tw: pining (idk)
a/n: uhhhh here you go. Another insert your fav character but twst version.
wc: 0.7k
Master List
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You live in my dream state Relocate my fantasy I stay in reality You live in my dream state Anytime I count sheep That’s the only time we make up, make up You exist behind my eyelids, eyelids Now I don’t wanna wake up
As he falls asleep, his mind always seems to slip to you. Going over all the times he saw you and how romantic even the smallest of gestures were to him. Even if you only smiled at him the same as you did with your other friends, when he closed his eyes, he imagined a world where your smile towards him is warmer, softer, more affectionate. Imagine a world where you’d lean in close to him as you laughed at his joke, where you’d rest your head on his shoulder as you stared up at him lovingly. A world where you’d just lean over and give him a kiss-
20/20, 20/20 vision Cupid hit me, Cupid hit me with precision, I Wonder if you look both ways when you cross my mind I said, I said I’m sick of, sick of, sick of, sick of chasing You’re the one that’s always running through my daydreams, I I can only see your face when I close my eyes So…
He watched as you sat with your friends. A warm smile on your face as you watched them squabble. Did you even know what you were doing to him? How he managed to fall so hard for you without you even trying. It was tiring. It felt like all he could do was think about you, your preferences, your likes and dislikes. Perhaps he could try and take you out today? Or were you too busy? It seems like no matter how hard he tries, he’ll always be one step behind you. The only place he can actually reach you is when his eyes slip closed…
Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I’m ‘bout to go to war And I don’t know if I’ma see you again Can I get a kiss? And can you make it last forever? I said I’m ‘bout to go to war And I don’t know if I’ma see you again
He wished his dreams were real. To know the taste of your lips, the gentleness of your hold, the warmth of your love. He never wanted to wake up, his dreams leaving him longing once he awoke. Then there was the dread, the fact that you weren’t from here, that you could go back to your world and he’d never see you again. It was a vicious cycle. Daydreaming of you, remembering it wasn’t real, then the dread of never seeing you again leading him to daydream about you once more. 
I said okay, okay, okay, okey-dokey, my infatuation Is translating into another form of what you call it? Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah, I ain’t met you, I’ve been looking Stop the waiting ‘fore I stop the chasing, like an alcoholic “You don’t understand me” — What the fuck do you mean? It’s them rose tinted cheeks, yeah, it's them dirt colored eyes Sugar honey iced tea, bumblebee on the scene Yeah I’d give up my bakery to have a peace of your pie
His infatuation had turned into love for you, and it started to feel suffocating, and he wasn’t sure if he should even act on his feelings. It would only make things more confusing for you. Yet he couldn’t help his longing for you, how his love seeped into every action aimed towards you. He hated when you waved him off, not understanding how deep these feelings ran through him. How he found every aspect of you endearing, You were the sweetest person he’s ever met, and you attracted him effortlessly. He’d give everything and anything for a chance to be with you. Please, just give him one chance to show you just how much he loves you.
Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la la, la la) Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la, la la) Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, o— (La la, la la la la, la la La la, la la la la) One more time?
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