#I don't think he would be a perfect dad but he would be a dad who would do anything for his child

[pinkthrone445]

-Welcome Home- Part 2

Part 1

Pairing:Melissa Schemmenti x Reader

Gender:soft, fluf, friends to lovers(?)

Warnings:I don't think so

Summary:You come back home after many years and your mom's friend welcomes you like if time never passed.

Btw... HAPPY PRIDE MONTH MY BEAUTIFUL PEOPLE!

Thick, soft thighs squeezing the side of your body, her hips pressing down on your crotch, the heat coming from her and that gentle rubbing she generated, your hands squeezing her skin and her lips bitting you. Her delicate necklaces hitting your chin and her heavy breathing caressing your skin. And those little whimpers... Fuck, you were fucked.

How were you supposed to sleep with what had happened? How were you supposed to sleep with the redhead lying next to you in your t-shirt and only her underwear underneath?

Her bare soft thick legs next to you... Fuuuuuck

If you opened your eyes you could see her next to you and how the sheet hugged her hips and ass, but if you closed your eyes you couldn't stop remembering the perfection of a woman she was and how good she looked sitting on your hips. Either way you were fucked.

You also couldn't go to sleep on the couch because she was right, it was very uncomfortable, plus you couldn't leave her alone and give her the wrong idea that you didn't want to be with her. Although, come to think of it, maybe you had already given her that impression when you sent her to sleep without explaining why.

Fuck a thousand times.

The next morning as soon as you saw the first rays of sunshine picking through the window, you got out of bed leaving the redhead alone. Your father was in the kitchen preparing breakfast as he was used to getting up very early, silently and tiredly you hugged him and he kissed your forehead

-"Hello baby. Are you okay? You look tired" - He asked worriedly, and you smiled as you sat down at the table nodding

-"Yes dad, just a little bit worried about the new job, that's all" - You responded and smiled like a toddler when your father handed you a plate of your favorite breakfast plus a glass of juice and a bowl of fruit-"Thank you Pa" - You responded and took a swig of juice just as you heard the redhead talking behind you while she came down the stairs, you started choking and cough nervously

-"Damm Gerald, that smells amazing, even if I feel like I want to puke, my stomach is having a fight for a taste of your breakfast" - Melissa was wearing her sunglasses as she normally did when she was hungover, she was also still wearing your nightshirt but with pants underneath this time and she had a ponytail. The redhead crouched down in front of you and kissed your forehead and stole a piece of fruit from your plate, the shirt opened a little giving you a rich view of her breasts-"Good morning sweetheart" - She murmured, smiling

The sight of her breasts made you literally salivate, even more than the hearty breakfast you had on your plate. Images from the night before flooded your head, her body grinding and her groans flooded your ears. How could she act so normal? You thought she would be angry about your rejection or embarrassed about it, but maybe she didn't remember anything because of how drunk she was...

The sound of your father clearing his throat brought you back to reality and you blushed for staring at the redhead's breasts

-"I-I left a painkiller and a glass of water in the counter for you, I figure you would be hungover" - You muttered and looked back at your plate

-"You're too sweet" - Mel kissed your forehead again and went for the pill.

-"Melissa... We are going a few days to the beach to celebrate that (Y/N) is back with us... Do you want to go? You are one of her closest friends and also my wife best friend, I'm sure they want you there, don't you baby?" - Your father commented to the redhead and you nodded smiling a little forcefully because you couldn't get your memory off what had happened a few hours ago.

By the next day, the bags were packed and the plane tickets bought. Thanks to fate or thanks to your mother, you ended up sitting next to the redhead.

While the trip wasn't that long, Mel had taken pills to calm her down as planes made her nervous, so as soon as you all got on the plane, she fell asleep leaning on your shoulder. You carefully bent down and closed the window a little so that the light wouldn't disturb her, then put on a movie to enjoy on the flight.

The redhead let out small sighs as if she was dreaming, delicately you took her hand giving her little caresses that calmed her little whimpers quickly. Unconsciously and asleep, she squeezed your hand tighter, making sure you didn't let go, thing that made you smile. Taking advantage of the fact that she was asleep, you observed all her features with patience and care.

When did you start seeing her this way? When your eyes for her had changed? When and why? Why have you never felt this way about someone before? You'd been in love before, but not in this way, it was something familiar and completely new at the same time.

Why did your hands tremble with desire to caress her cheek, to touch her, to feel her? Why did you feel so much desire and wanting for her? Why was it so easy for you to end relationships with other people, but now you couldn't control the feelings you had for her? Why did that kiss, instead of calming your cravings, stoke an uncontrollable fire inside you, a fire that was consuming you from the inside out? When did you had fall in love with her?..

Your fingers contour the silhouette of her knuckles, her skin was so soft and always smelled good, you contoured some veins that stood out on her white skin, almost as white as the skin on her thighs, those veins were like path, like a map to her heart. Her skin had some very slight age spots and some freckles, like the ones that you could see in her face if you were lucky to be close enough...

If you risk it all and kiss her, she would kiss you back? Or she would still see you as a stupid teen like when she met you at your 19? Even though it had been more than 15 years since that, would you still be a child in her eyes? What would happen if you risk it all?...

You don't know if you could keep ignoring what you were feeling for her much longer. You always felt a certain attraction to her, but before it was easier to ignore it, because the age difference was so big and she was married, you were sure she wouldn't have payed attention to you. But now, now that you were older and no lover was on the way, now that you had come back after 8 years and those feelings haven't diminished a bit, instead they grew and surfaced much stronger than when you were younger, you weren't quite sure you could hide them for much longer. Much less hide them from her who knew you better than anyone else.

All these years that had passed between you and yet it seemed that at no time had you been separated from each other. The way she kept grabbing your attention even though you were in a room with thousands of people. Hasn't she noticed? Has she noticed your gaze on her? Has she noticed the feelings behind your eyes? Has she noticed them and decided to ignore them? Or she haven't noticed them at all?

Why, even though you've been in love before, has it never felt like this? Should you take the risk? Should you take a chance and tell her how you felt? Tell her that even if you were thousands of miles away from her, the green of the Northern Lights at night only reminded you of the green of her eyes, that neither the beauty of the Northern Lights could compare to the beauty of her eyes nor could it capture your attention as she did.

Maybe you should tell her how the red of dawn only reminded you of the red of her hair and lips, that the heat generated by the sun on your skin was nothing compared to the heat your heart felt when she was close to you.

Tell her how whenever and wherever you were, she was your everything, your first though and the reason of your dreams...

You wanted to tell her everything, but words weren't enough to express everything that you felt for her. And also, you were scared if you tell her everything and she didn't reciprocarte, you would lose her forever.

Why love was so hard and scary? Wasn't there some way to skip all of this and get to the part where you'd gotten around all the awkward chatter and problems and were finally together?...

The pilot, warning that the plane would begin the descent and that you should please put on your seatbelts, took you out of your thoughts. You delicately stopped holding the redhead's hand and put on your belt and then did the same with her, drowsy, the redhead opened her eyes and smiled softly at you

-"Thank you" - she whispered and stretched

-"We are landing" - You answered

-"Oh no, I woke up earlier... Can you hold my hand while we land?" - She asked and you nodded

-"Always" - You took her hand tightly and she sighed at peace.

When the plane landed and you got home, your parents took the master bedroom for them, your sister and her boyfriend other room and Mel and you ended sharing the last room.

You had big plans for the week you would have on vacation, you wanted to make the most of everything before you had to start working at the hospital, plus it was pride month so you had to celebrate.

On the first day you all decided to go to the beach together.

There were people listening music, some playing, others tanning and some swimming. You could taste the salt of the ocean in the air and the sun provided a comfortable embrace. Your father placed an umbrella in the sand and some beach chairs, you put a towel on the floor and sat there. After everyone had a snack, you and Mel went to the sea to enjoy the warm water. You buried your feet in the wet sand and let the water get your knees wet, the redhead stood next to you smiling and took off her beach robe leaving her only in a bikini, you did your best not to look at her body

-"Happy Pride kiddo, I'm proud of you" - she whispered and you smiled finally looking at her, she was using a very colorful swimsuit, like a rainbow, thing that surprise you, since she always used her signature red one-"I'm an ally, I'm using this to support my favorite girl" - she told you and you laughed, she called herself an "ally" when she could easily be the one running the whole pride parade-"I also convinced everyone to use a pride pin on their clothes or bags, you're welcome" - she said proudly

-"Ohh that was the reason, thank you Mel" - You smiled to her and she took your hand pulling you deeper to the water.

You spend the whole day getting wet and playing with each other in the beach (I know what you are thinking dirty minded).

More days and activities passed and everywhere the redhead stayed with you. One of the last days of vacation, when you went out to buy something to eat, you found out that there would be a party for Pride Month, something you couldn't miss, and it wasn't very hard to make the redhead tag along.

You and the eldest dressed in your best dresses and made colorful and extravagant makeup, and then went to the party venue. The atmosphere was safe and fun, many couples dancing or drinking or talking, it was a cool well decorated place.

I'm no time, you and Mel started drinking and talking with other people, having fun and dancing the night away.

People treated you like if they had known you from many years and a group of queer people invited you to play games with them

-"For this game, you and your partner tell us a story, each of you have to say a sentence, it can be a real story or a made up one, you have to trick us, and by the end, we have to guess if it is true or not, if we guess correctly and you loose, you have to make out, if you won, you can choose a punishment for us"-One of them explained and Mel and you nodded. No matter how much you explained to others that the two of you were just friends, they made you play together since the game was in pairs and you were the only ones who were playing who had not gone with a romantic partner to the party

The game started and everyone played their turn in pairs until it was Mel and you's turn

-"... So we started running away from this men yelling behind us for stealing some oranges from his tree..."-Mel continued with the story where you had stayed

-"...But I tripped because I had my shoelaces lose..."-you said

-"... And she face planted on the concrete of the sidewalk..."-Mel said

-"... I broke my nose in two and it started bleeding so much..."-You added

-"... I stoped to help her and when I turned to pick her up, turns out... "-she made a pause for you to continue

-"The 'man' that was following and yelling at us, wasn't a man..."-you made a dramatic pause

-"... It was a parrot that kept repeating 'don't touch my oranges'!"-Mel finished the story and everyone start laughing you included

-"Come on! That can't be true! How the heck she didn't realized that it was a parrot?" - one of them said thinking about if it was true or not

-"Yeah, besides she has a really pretty nose to be broken in the past" - other said

-"Well, final word?" - Mel asked

-"It's false" - they decided and you both denied since it was true

-"They took me to the hospital and everything, and turns out the orange that we stole, was very bitter to eat, so that wasn't even worth it the broken nose" - You said and they laughed more.

You assigned the punishment to the appropriate people and continued to play. After a few more drinks and other rounds, it was your turn again. Even though Mel was an amazing liar and you had an amazing connection to follow each other's lies, thanks to the practice you had when you lied to your mom, it seemed like she was having a hard time to follow you this time, you didn't understand if it was on purpose or because of the alcohol, but she was making really easy to notice that you two were lying

-"... And then while she was helping babysit the little kid..." - You said

-"...My brother Tony came to visit us..."-she said and everyone frowned

-"They are lying, she said earlier that by that time her brother Tony was in jail" - They quickly said and you frowned too-"now they have to kiss!" - one of them yelled

-"Kiss! KISS! KISS!" - They all start to tell and you laughed grabbing the redhead face

-"What a punishment" - You said sarcastic before connecting your lips with her, her hands immediately took your waist and lifted you up a little drawing you to her lap without breaking the kiss, by the surprise of the movement you let out a small squeak which the redhead took advantage of to claim your mouth with her tongue, easily dominating you. Your hands went to her hair playing with her soft curls and your nails scratched the nape of her neck a little, earning a groan from her. Thank to the alcohol, you had no remorse or thoughts at that moment, you were only thinking about her and her heat next to you. Your hips starting grinding unconsciously against her lap and she bit your lip a little bit harsh. You were running out of air but it didn't matter if you kept kissing her until you passed out. She broke the kiss delicately and rested her forehead on yours, breathing fast and agitated almost as much as you

-"Woooow, what a kiss! Are you sure you are only friends?" - one of them asked and you blushed, you had forgotten they were there. You tried to lift from her lap, but she kept you there giving little massages on your waist the rest of the game.

When it was later and almost everyone was drunk or asleep in some couch, you and Mel came out of the party room to walk on the beach, she was carrying her shoes and yours in her hand, and her free hand was grabbing yours. As the moon began to set and the sun to appear, the effects of the alcohol began to wear out

-"Mel..."-you whispered still walking by her side grabbing her hand, she hummed to let you keep going-"Are you still drunk?..."-you asked

-"No... Just tipsy... You?" - she asked and looked at you

-"Same... You are still grabbing my hand" - You commented

-"Yeah... I like having you close" - she squeezed your hand

-"Mel?" - You asked again and she nodded-"I love you" - You said and she smiled

-"I love you too kiddo, and I missed you... I always have fun with you" - she answered

-"Yeah fun... What do you mean when you tell me you love me? What am I to you?" - You asked-"Because I really really love you..."-you said shy

-"You are so special to me and I really love you too" - she said and you stoped walking

-"Mel... do you really love me like the way that I'm telling you that I love you? Because the two times that you had actually showed me that you had any interest for me, was when you were drunk... And if you tell me that you don't love me in that way, I'll understand, okay? But I need to know what is this"-You asked looking the sand

-"Only when I'm drunk? I've been showing my interest for you from years now. When I kick out some girl that was interest in you because they were not good enough for you? That was because I thought the only right one for you was me. The times that I waited awake so I could call you while you were living on a different time zone? That was because I was craving for at least hearing your voice. The many times I send you letters with my perfume on it, it was so you though of me at least 20% of how much I thought of you... I... I love you, but I could only get the strength to tell you when I was drunk, because I was scared to lose you if you didn't felt the same"-she said with honestly

-"I've loved you for years but I was scared too..."-you laughed a little and she signed at peace, kissing your forehead - "What does this means now?"-You asked again

-"I don't know, but whatever we decide, let's hope your mother doesn't kill us both when she finds out... Let's keep walking on the sand while we figure this out, I don't want today to end" - she said and you nodded without letting her hand go-"Happy pride to us..."-she said and started walking

-"Happy pride Mel..."-you smiled

[kteezy997]

Daddy's Boy-Part Thirteen(the end)//t.c.

Warnings: angst, cursing, smut, pregnant sex, little bit of dirty talk

In the weeks following the honeymoon, your belly really started to grow. Both of your boys were obsessed with the bump. Theo would bring in his favorite books into your room to read to the baby at bedtime. Timmy would lay his head on the bump, caressing it, and whisper sweet little phrases in French.

It was even better when you found out the gender and you all could call the baby by his name, Dylan. You came up with his name as Timmy had wrapped the Bob Dylan film that he had worked so very hard on for years. When he heard your pick for your second child's name, he was in love with it. "It's perfect." he said.

"Dylan Chalamet. It's so cute." you replied, hugging your husband and giving him a kiss.

Theo learned how to write his baby brother's name, and even colored him a picture for his nursery. "That's me, daddy, mommy, and baby Dylan." he explained, pointing to each of the adorable stick figures he had drawn, with each name spelled out perfectly.

"We will put it in the baby's room, just above the crib. That way he will see it every morning when he wakes up." you said, hugging your son before taking the drawing to hang it up.

Theo kept one of your ultrasound photos and slept with it every night as if it was a teddy bear. When Timmy discovered this one night, he became emotional. You could even see the tears welling up in his eyes. He pulled you into a hug, saying, "He's going to be the best big brother."

........

Time flew by during this pregnancy, and before you knew it, you were ready to pop any day.

One night during your ninth month, Theo was oddly quiet during dinner. Afterwards, he opted to work on his spelling words in his room by himself.

As you cleaned the dinner table together, you decided to mention your concern for your son to Timmy. "Do you think Theo is acting a little weird? Like he's not quite himself today?"

"Yeah, I'm not sure what's going on with him. You should get off your feet, babe. Go sit with him in his room, talk to him, okay?" Timmy answered, stepping over to you to press a sweet kiss on your cheek while he gave a soft rub to your large belly.

"Okay. I'll see what’s bugging him."

.......

You knocked on Theo's bedroom door, opening it and peeking your head in, "Hey buddy, is it okay if I come in?"

He was lying on his bed with his papers in front him and responded, "Yeah."

"You were really quiet during dinner, is everything okay, Theo?" you asked, your calming mom voice was present as you sat down on your little boy's bed.

"Yeah, I'm fine." he mumbled, writing out one of his spelling words.

You frowned, not fully convinced by him, "Are you sure? You know you can talk to me about anything, is it something to do with the new baby coming?"

Theo shrugged, not looking up at you. "I don't know. It's just that I don't want you and Daddy to forget about me when Dylan gets here."

You could feel how sad your boy was, and it hurt your heart that he felt this way. You put your hand on his head, caressing his hair to soothe him. "That could never happen. We are going to love you and Dylan both equally, we could never forget you. You're our son, we love you more than there are stars in the sky. Don't you know that?"

Theo sighed, "Yeah, I guess. But what if Dad likes Dylan more than me and doesn't want to play with me anymore?”

"Oh, Daddy will always want to play with you. You guys are the best of friends, and when Dylan comes, he will be Daddy' other best friend, but nothing will change."

He put his chin on his hand, tracing letters, "Okay."

You realized what he needed. "Come with me, you should talk with your Dad about this."

...........

You took Theo by the hand into the kitchen, finding Timmy at the sink, washing dishes.

"Hey," your husband greeted you both, "is everything alright?" he set the wet, clean plate in his hand into the dish drying rack on the counter.

"Theo is having a hard time with the baby coming. He's worried that you won't want to play with him anymore." you explained.

Timmy frowned, grabbed the dish towel nearby to dry his hands, "Hey," he said, kneeling down to Theo's height, "don't think like that. We'll always be buddies, that will never change. We'll just have Dylan to hang out with too, and I will never let you feel left out, okay?"

"Do you promise?" Theo asked, his eyes widening at his father.

"Of course." Timmy answered, holding out his pinky finger. As he let Theo wrap his own pinky around it, he asked, "What is a pinky promise?"

"The most solemn vow there is!" the boy said, smiling.

.......

You came into your bedroom later on, after tucking Theo in. Timmy was already under the covers. You figured that he was naked, as you had been making love nearly every night the last couple of weeks. You were always in the mood lately. It felt amazing to ride him, or for him to fuck you softly from the side. You both typically loved the missionary position, but with a basketball-sized belly in between you, it was nearly impossible.

You smiled at your husband as you got into bed. It felt so relieving to lay down and be off of your swollen feet. "You were great with him tonight." you said, taking his hand in yours.

"Yeah, well, you set it up for me. He just needed reassurance." Timmy said, squeezing your hand lightly and caressing his thumb over your hand.

"You don't always have to praise me." you told him, resting your other hand on your baby bump belly.

"Oh, but I do. How could I not give you a compliment every chance I get?" he cooed, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek.

You leaned into his kiss just for a moment, but then you felt the baby move awkwardly in your stomach. "Oof." you said softly, moving your hand toward where the movement was.

Timmy sat up, "Everything okay?" His protective mode was engaged.

"Yeah, yeah, I think he's just moving lower. Just getting ready to come out."

"Okay. At least all the sex is working to induce the birth." he wiggled his eyebrows at you.

"Yeah, I think it's working nicely." you turned to him, kissing his lips. "You're doing great, Daddy." you smirked. "But I'm ready for him to be out of me." you giggled.

Timmy grinned as well, giving you another kiss. "I know you are, baby. But he'll be here really soon."

"Ugh, I know. I can't wait to meet him." you scooted closer to him, then rested your head on his bare chest.

"Theo is worried about you giving birth."

"Oh,” you frowned, looking up at him, “did he ask you about where babies come from?"

"No, not exactly. He was just curious if it would hurt you to have Dylan come out."

"What did you tell him?" you sat up in the bed.

"I told him that it would hurt, but the doctors can give you medicine to help with the pain. He’s just worried about his mom. I have to admit, I am not looking forward to seeing you in that amount of pain.” You could see the genuine concern in his green eyes.

“Oh, honey it’s okay.” you touched his cheek, “You’ll be there with me, so I know everything will be okay. Besides, when it’s all over, we will have our sweet baby boy. And Theo will have his brother.”

“He’s been so excited about the baby. I hope what he was feeling today is only a temporary thing.”

“Oh I’m sure once he sees the baby, all his worries will be forgotten. Anyway, I'm not looking forward to the day when he does ask about where babies come from. I hope he asks you."

"Me?" Timmy laughed, "Why me?"

"I don't know, because you're both boys. And because I don't want to have that talk with him, he's my little boy. So innocent, you know?"

“Yeah, I guess it would be easier to understand for him when he’s not talking to his mom. That’d be awkward as fuck.”

“Which is why when the time comes, down the road, you’ll be having the sex talk with both boys.”

Timmy visibly winced, “Oh man, I do not want to think of our boys being that old. But I do love having sex talk with their mom.” he then snuggled close to you.

“Is that your segue into having sex right now?” you giggled.

“Yes. Is it working?”

You climbed onto him, throwing your hands into his hair, “Of course it is.”

Your husband gave you a sly grin as you leaned to kiss him, and you softly bucked your hips in his lap. His cock grew hard within seconds.

“Mm, push my panties to the side.” you moaned against his lips.

Timmy did as he was told, sliding the fabric away from your pussy so he could sheath his thick cock inside of you.

You moaned deeply, trembling at the feeling.

He held your hips, looking up at you, his eyes wide like a child looking at a lit up Christmas tree. “You’re so amazing, y/n, you feel so good.”

“Ahhh.” you pulled him into your tight embrace, bucking your hips as best as you could with your belly in the way. He filled you up perfectly, the rubbing on your walls made your pussy throb around him.

Timmy held onto you, sucking on your neck, nibbling along your collarbone. “Yes, baby, fuck me. That’s it.”

He was always so sweet and encouraging lately, it turned you on even more. You grabbed his hands, plopping them onto your heavy breasts, and plunged down on him harder.

“Just like that, fuck.” he praised, scrunching his brows in pleasure and biting his lip. He watched your breasts as they bounced under your oversized night shirt.

He started to rub your breasts, the wet slapping sound underneath you thundered through the bedroom, and you were brought over the brink of your orgasm. You could feel Timmy come inside of you as well.

I am ending this story for now, but I could be persuaded to do a sequel, if enough people would be interested!

@gatoenlaciudad @thebetawolfgirl @musicandbooksaremyhappyplace @softhecreator @tchalamss @lixzey @bitchyunknownuser @ducktapebar @aoi-targaryen @yukideadinside @elloise0 @thatoneweirdgirl17 @mel-vaz @sammy-halpert @iwishchalamet @that-one-fangirl69 @jindongdongie @briefkittenearthquake

[kiryoutann]

Before reading, please check series masterlist to read the warning(s), disclaimer, and to make sure you’re on the right chapter. Minors do NOT interact.

WHEN YOU WERE A CHILD, the world was a small, uncomplicated place. Mom and Dad don't have much money to travel abroad and their jobs only allow for little leisure, so the furthest vacation spot is a beach four hours' drive from your home city. School fills your days with lessons, friends, and the promise of weekend sleepovers. Every day, you stroll down the same street and greet your neighbors by name. Happiness was as close as your mother's freshly baked blueberry pie.

But now? When your world becomes wider and the reach of your hand becomes longer, it seems that happiness finds further hiding places. It grieves you that childhood was too brief; that bubble of safety from the world's woes and tribulations burst before you could even appreciate it.

The five-year-old you looked in the mirror, twisting your tiny feet to see the new shoes from all angles. Despite your repeated protests that you preferred the blue one, your mother purchased the bright pink one—she said it matched her favorite dress, and mother knows best, so you don't have to bother thinking about what you wanted. You shrugged to yourself; at least it's better than your old one.

Walking down the hall, you found your father. He's not in his usual play clothes – he's dressed for work, eyes crinkling as he smiles. "My little princess, you look so pretty!"

You beamed at his praise, chubby cheeks glowing. Nothing makes your heart sing like Dad's smile. You spin around like a princess in a fairy tale, showing off your shoes by stomping gently on the wooden surface.

“Mom bought it for me. It's not blue, but I like it!”

Dad chuckled. “Well, at least she spent my money on my favorite girl.”

Your mother emerged from the kitchen, your lunch bag in hand. “I saw them on sale at the store and just knew they'd be perfect for school,” she says proudly. Your father turned to you, opening his mouth to say something but, Mother interrupted. “We'd better get going or she'll be late for class.”

Dad sighs, mumbling a “yes, I know,” and kneels to sweep you into a tight hug. Your secret handshake is special – finger guns with “pew pew” noises, then knuckles bumping before more hugs and kisses. Your mother rolled her fondly eyes. “You two are always conspiring, sharing your little secrets. Now say goodbye, Daddy has to get to work."

You dislike it when Dad has to leave for work—in fact, you prefer him to Mom. But, Mom said he had to go or else there would be no food on the table for dinner; Besides, Daddy will definitely come back home and you can play with him again. You waved, forcing a smile to look as happy as possible.

"Bye, Daddy!"

"See you soon, princess." With a wave of his hand, your father answered and vanished behind the wooden door.

As Daddy's car pulls away from the curb, you hear Mom walking over to where the car keys are kept. You take a deep breath before exhaling slowly, but that strange tightness in your chest persists—one that usually occurs when it's just Mom and you. She opened the door and told you to go to the car. You followed her in silence, eyes fixed on the pattern on your new pink shoes.

Sliding into the backseat, you peer out the window. The car engine started, and the radio played the same playlist. You watch the buildings and trees move backward. Mom glances at you in the rearview mirror and corrects you about your slumped posture, saying it's an ugly look for a young lady. You sat up straight in your chair and muttered an apology. Satisfied, your mother returned her attention to the road.

Secretly, you wish it could be your dad driving you to school instead. He's more fun, telling silly stories to make you laugh, and doesn't mind your messy crayons or clothes that don't match perfectly. Your mother always finds fault with anything that is unclean or out of place.

Looking up at the clear sky, you hope the sun will soon be above, indicating that lunchtime is approaching. Lunchtime means it's a few hours until sundown, and dinner will soon be served.  You want to quickly see Dad and hear whatever stories he has during the day—that is, if he comes home. Lately, work has been keeping him from home more and more. However, if he's too busy, then tomorrow will do—Sunday sounds fun. He never missed a Sunday with you.

The weekend comes quickly, and you can barely contain your excitement when Dad takes you to the park Sunday morning. You walk hand in hand down the busy sidewalk, you chat a mile a minute about school. Laughter and barking greeted you both.

A fluffy golden retriever catches your eye, and you tug Daddy's hand, pointing excitedly. “Can we get a puppy, Daddy? Please? I'd take such good care of it, I promise!”

Your father chuckled, then shook his head. “You know how your mother feels about furry friends making a mess in the house.”

Disappointed, you scruff your shoes in the dirt. Dad never refuses what you want, no matter how ridiculous it is, unless it contradicts Mom. Unfortunately, the majority of what you desire is always something your mother despises. You continue walking.

Then he points – an ice cream cart! “Can I have one?” You ask, only to remember. "Mom said no sweets before dinner."

Dad crouches to meet your downcast eyes. “But Mom's not here. And you and me, we're partners in crime, right? I won't tell if you won't. What do you say we keep our sweet treat just between us?”

Gasping for joy, bubbles of laughter escaped your lips. "Okay!" Dad got you cones, of course, chocolate ones, and you swung your clasped hands and gawked at all the colorful, melted options. There's no better way to spend a Sunday than taking a stroll with Dad in the sunshine.

Monday night, however, was spent with you lying in bed with a fever ravaging your little body. Through the haze, you hear raised voices carrying down the hall—Mom scolding Dad for letting you have that ice cream.

“I can't believe you disobeyed me, Peter! One ice cream and now she's sick as a dog.” Her shrill voice pierces your pounding head.

“C'mon Anna, the girl's allowed a treat now and then.” Dad's calmer rumble does little to quell your mother's fury.

“If you'd listened to me from the start, this never would've happened. But you always think you know best.” Their arguing grows more heated, and you curl into a tight ball, wishing you could disappear.

Your mother's booming footsteps grew farther away as their conversations ceased. You open your eyes. When your door creaks and you turn around, the light from the corridor peeks through a tiny opening, and your father's form fills the frame. He sits next to you with a strained, contrite expression on his face.

“Hey, honey,” he started. “I'm sorry our secret got out. Mom's just worried about you being sick.”

You try to smile, though it comes out as more of a grimace. “S’okay, Daddy.” You said, and he stroked your damp hair tenderly; concern etched deep.

“Jesus, you're burning up. How about a story to take your mind off feeling bad?”

As if on cue, you remember – “The Nutcracker, please!”

With a kind grin, your father got up to get the cherished book. He takes a seat next to you, acts puzzled as he flips through a book and clears his throat.

"Now let's see, how did this story go again?" You chuckled at his attempt to divert your attention from your fever.

Soon later, he starts reading aloud with a low, comfortable voice. Sometimes, he stumbles over long words or loses his place, but each time he simply smiles sheepishly before continuing on. His favorite part is the dialogue, as he frequently adopts a different voice to portray different characters. You find yourself entranced, following each magical adventure.

For a little while, you can forget about the uncomfortable heat covering your body and Mom's angry shouts. In these quiet moments with your father, nothing else matters but his gentle company. In this once kinder world, he is still your father and you are still his favorite daughter—his one and only. Even if getting an ice cream is what makes you sick, you would do it all over again just to share this time with him.

By the story's end, your eyelids grow heavy enough, but not quite heavy. Dad chuckled, closing the book. “Still awake, little love? You must be feeling better.”

Your lips curve into a smile, glazed eyes glistening as flushed cheeks rise. “Mom signed me up for ballet classes,” you mumble sleepily.

A gasp escaped his lips, his forehead shot upwards emphasizing the already existing wrinkles. He looked at you with irises the same color as yours. You chuckle from his reaction, but your smile fades when his features swim and blur before you like figures in a dream. His gaze was always so kind, looks darker than you recall. Stubble shadows his jaw. When he smiles now, it doesn't reach as far.

He said your name—but it sounded foreign, it felt wrong. Why can't you see him clearly anymore?

“My little princess, you’re going to be the greatest ballet dancer the world has ever seen.” You wanted to answer, to hold this moment with him forever; but heavy eyelids won the battle and ultimately dragged you down. As the darkness enveloped you, Dad's hazy face was the last thing on your mind.

Thin curtains block the dreary morning light as you begin your daily ritual of waking up. The city has just woken up below; fog still hangs on the streets of London as you pad barefoot to the kitchen, the hardwood cold under your feet.

Filling the kettle, you set it to boil and retrieve your favorite chipped mug from the shelf. Your hand reaches for a packet of instant grounds—two scoops of it go inside, followed by a splash of cream. After lifting the whistling kettle, you poured in the boiling water slowly before taking a tea spoon to stir. The sound of the drizzle striking the glass was amplified by the apartment's quiet, and a small clink! sound is added each time your spoon meets your porcelain mug.

Lifting the mug, you breathe deep its comforting aroma before taking a careful sip, sighing as warmth spreads through your body. Coffee in hand, you turn to the task of packing your bag, put the essentials: water bottle, warm up shorts, warm up sweater, leg warmers, two pointe shoes, skirts, and a pouch containing deodorant, hair spray, comb, pins , and band aids.

Feeling quite satisfied, you finish your coffee and rinse the mug before leaving it to dry. You go shower and do your skincare routine. Pulling out your clothes drawer, you retrieve the leotard and tights, sliding the familiar fabrics over still-damp limbs.

Before the full-length mirror, you start to stretch. First position – feet turned out, heels together, arms graceful at your sides. Middle split – breathe in, reach for your toes, feel the burn in your thighs. Forward fold, palms flat on the floor, spine lengthening. After feeling warmed up for the day, you slowly got up and grabbed your bag towards the door.

The city was already starting to get busy, with the hustle and bustle of commuters making their way to work. The aroma of freshly baked pastries and brewing coffee wafting through the air. You quickened your footsteps on the cobblestone streets.

When the train door opens, you rush out, clutching your bag tight. Racing up the stairs, you burst through the exit and meet the cold air from the rain. You rubbed your hands against your arms in a desperate attempt to warm yourself. Overhead, heavy clouds hung low. You set off down the sidewalk at a brisk pace.

But, as your building comes into view, you slow down—memories from last night fill your head. It was just here—under the awnings of that little café—that you first took shelter from the rain with him.

Simon. His name whispers through your mind like fog swirling around lampposts. If only the place was still open, maybe you would come in for a sweet warm drink instead of that crowded pub. Must've been nice, you think—it must've been nice to chat between sweets, enveloped in comfort that stretches time to be longer. Maybe he won't be so guarded and you'll get more than a name and a job—a promise to meet tomorrow at breakfast, for example.

Realizing you had completely stopped walking, you shook your head as embarrassment settled on your cheeks. Why do you dwell on such fantasies? Despite his kindness, Simon is just a stranger with just a name, one of many faces in this city that you will never meet again.

With a sigh, you continued your walk and disappeared behind the large doors of the opera.

The heavy doors creaked open as you pushed inside, warmth enveloping your cold body. Long hallway echoed with the conversation of the dancers who had arrived, sitting cross-legged on the cold floor while exchanging a joke or two with each other. You turn into the dressing room. Hanging up your coat, you saw a familiar sight—girls chatting and gossiping as they got ready.

You sat down at one of the dressers, placing your duffel bag at your feet. The sound of a zipper being opened sounded in the air; you bent down and reached for your pouch. Then, you pull out your trusty lip balm before applying it to your lips and gently massaging in the colorless formula.

Just then, a girl came and stopped at the door frame, panting. “It's up! The casting announcement is on the board!”

Squeals of excitement and joy were heard as they rushed to see who got what role. You hurriedly closed your balm, returned it to the pouch before getting up from the chair following the others. They had gathered at the end of the hall, jostling to see a piece of paper stuck to the board.

Air fills your lungs slowly when you inhale. It felt like your hammering heart was going to drop to your stomach as your legs started to swing. The pessimistic side of you says to turn around—why bother? It said tauntingly, you know which role you ended up having. But the hopeful side—the little girl still full of dreams stored somewhere in your ribs—insisted on peering and feeling.

As you stepped into the crowd of dancers, they turned around and some started smiling at you. One of them, Jasmine, approached you after calling your name.

“You did it! You got the role!”

As she hugged you, you scanned down the long list. Your eyes freeze on the main role. The Swan Queen. Beside it is printed in big black letters, your name. The Swan Queen.

You detach yourself from Jasmine's embrace, muttering excuses as you flee down the hall to the toilet. Step by step opening each stall to make sure the space is totally empty, you then lock yourself in one of them and sink into the closed toilet lid. Your mind is racing with a plethora of feelings as your eyes are fixed on the sections of tile plaque.

Joy, pride, disbelief... But underneath it all lies a hollow ache you can't place. Why? Isn't this what you've always wanted, to to become more than just another dancer in the group, to stop at precisely the thirteenth, and somehow take on the role of the Swan Queen—the one who shines the most on stage? Perhaps it's the self-conscious part of you, believing that the director must have made a mistake and mistook you for someone else.

Or perhaps this emptiness was once occupied by the never-ending quest for approval. In truth, that person no longer exists; you have no one left to tell this good news to. The chairs in the crowd were empty.

The cost of keeping everyone at a distance, indeed.

You clutch on your leotard, the fabric wrinkling in your tight grip. Gazing up at the ceiling and inhaling again, you make the decision to push up on unsteady legs and get out of the stall.

The hallway seems louder than before. Every footstep and whisper amplified in your mind, eyes tracking you as you pass—all judging, wondering. A flush creeps up your neck. You speed up your steps, hoping to quickly get out from under their scrutinizing gaze. However, no matter how hard you try, your ears cannot be deafened by the snatches of hushed conversation that follow.

“Can't believe they chose her; she's so soulless on stage.” Your throat constricts, and your hands are clenched into pale fists.

Claudine's piercing stare cuts through the crowd as your eyes meet. She rakes her gaze over you slowly, as if trying to decipher what the director found so special. You lowered your eyes, hurriedly passing to the safety of the empty dressing room. Grabbing your bag with shaky hands, you flee once more to the practice studio, desperate to lose their judgment.

The studio door's knob turned, and as you pushed slightly to get a glimpse inside, the hinges creaked. With the coach and pianist, the director was engaged in a serious discussion. He gives you a quick glance and gestures for you to enter.

“(Y/N), it's so wonderful to have you here. I know this role is in excellent hands with you.” His kind words did little to calm your fraying nerves, but you took the crumbs of his appreciation.

More dancers arrive behind you, their excited chatter filling the hallway. Risking a glance over your shoulder, you catch sight of familiar faces: Jasmine, Sophia, Eloise, long-faced Marie—surely she's not used to not being the main star, and you feel like you've taken her place even though you're not good enough. You swallow hard and turn back, placing your duffel bag in the studio's corner.

The director clapped his hands to get everyone's attention. “Bravo to each of you for earning these coveted roles through your talent and dedication. Now, let us begin our work to bring Tchaikovsky's magic to life for our audiences. Places everyone, we'll start from the beginning!”

Your shoulders rise as you inhale a deep breath. Swan Lake. First time becoming the Swan Queen.

Does the director know that his gaze carries a heavy weight? The more sighs he lets out, the more you suffocate, as if the air has been tainted with butane and you've reached the vertigo stage. His eyes followed your every move, but it was his lips that showed dissatisfaction. Something isn't up to his expectations, and it's not the techniques and poses your ballet teacher has been drilling you in since childhood. You are deficient in something that you are unaware of.

The director calls to a halt, praising and giving notes to the other dancers before turning to you. You brace yourself with a deep breath.

“Your technique is truly flawless as always. But I wonder, could you try injecting just a bit more... feeling?” he began. “You portray her innocence and loneliness beautifully. But what is missing is the glimmer of hope she finds in Prince Siegfried's promise to free her.”

Hope? The girl had lived most of her life as a swan; what silly hope did she still have and seek in a man? As if their hearts have the ability to keep a promise. Swan Lake wouldn't be Swan Lake without the prince declaring his love for another woman and Odette jumping off the cliff from the realization that her dreams had ended in vain. Is it not more fitting that she feels only emptiness—the result of years of loneliness leeching any warmth or longing from her soul?

You tell yourself that, if not merely to cover up your poor performance. The director is many years older than you and has directed and seen many ballets throughout his life. If anyone knows how to bring a character to life, it's him.

It begs the question, though, of whether a cursed being like her seems capable of wishing for miracles or fairy tale things like love. Can a withered flower, beaten down by countless rains, still hold the memory of the sun in its crumpled petals?

“I'll do better.” You said.

The director gives a pitying smile; you felt small beneath him. “Good.” Then raising his voice, “Well done everyone today. Let's call it a day and start again tomorrow fresh!"

Snatching up your bag, you rush towards the exit before anyone can speak to you. With your head down, you push through the doors and into the night. Breathing in trembling, you let your legs carry you down the well-known pavement. The sights and sounds of bustling London blur around you.

You shouldn't have believed that girl. You shouldn't have given that dreamy girl the chance to lead a version of herself that has grown far beyond her—because you know her judgment means nothing, just a limited view of the world through rose-tinted glasses. She is that way because a liar once said that she would make a great ballet dancer, and she stuck to it like a devoted disciple to the words of her God.

It was stupid, perhaps a misplaced self-confidence. With your every step, the negative voices in your mind grow louder, jeering relentlessly at your foolishness. This was a mistake from the start. As if you could ever do Odette justice. Best tell him you're stepping down; let Claudine or Marie have the role they deserve. Your heart is heavy, weighing you down to the floor. 

You almost pass by without noticing, but there, through the haze, glows the warm orange light of that pub. The one Simon and you ducked into that stormy night, where you shared pleasantries over pints of bitter. As you watch the door open and close for the newcomers, you halt.

You're not sure which Satan incited. But when you push open the pub door, warmth immediately envelopes you, scents of ale and smoke mingling with the bustle of chatter. A lively folk tune played on the sound system as patrons laughed together in the booths and around the bar. Steeling yourself, you approached awkwardly.

The bartender looked up, his eyes widening briefly before his lips curved into a flirtatious smile. "Well hello gorgeous, what can I get for ya?"

Warmth floods your cheeks and you shift from foot to foot. “Um, do you have anything non-alcoholic?” You said, awkward voice breaking easily. Why did you come in here again?

He raised an eyebrow but maintained a friendly smile. “Sure do, love. Give me a mo.” As he turns around to prepare your drink, you glance around helplessly.

Faces blurred in the dim light—all engaged in lively conversation. You sit alone at the bar like you're waiting for a friend while watching everyone else meet theirs. A feeling of loneliness overtakes you – what were you thinking coming here?

Bartender returns, sliding your drink across with a wink. “On the house. Let me know if you need anything else, yeah?”

Giving a mumbled thanks, you take a sip acting busy. As you sit alone nursing your drink, you believe you understand why. Deep down, beneath all the self-doubt and shame, is a glimmer of truth you loath to admit – you desperately seek companionship, if only for a moment.

And the only person close enough for you to consider a friend is a masked stranger you will never see again. That's pathetic; you're pathetic. Clinging to the irrational part to watch Simon walk through that door. He claims he's a regular here—his “I'm here often enough” seems to make you hold out for the chance of running into him again.

Twenty minutes pass in a haze, and Simon still hasn't appeared. Maybe he's not a regular after all. You finally glance at your phone—it's time for your usual subway.

Signaling the bartender, you place some cash on the bar as a tip. “Thanks again,” you murmur, then gather your coat and slip out into the chill night.

“Sorry,” you mumble when you bump into a figure about to enter.

“No worries, love,” a British-accented voice replies smoothly, and you glance up, thinking it's someone. A stranger—tall, broad shoulders, but not Simon. Perfectly coiffed hair and skin as smooth as porcelain. He shot a charming smile at you. “Off somewhere?”

Instantly on alert, your eyes start looking for a way to get away from him. “Just heading home, thanks.”

Making a sidestep, his arms extended to block your path. Your mind's alarm goes off. His gaze burned as it swept over you, lingering in places it had no right to be before he licked his lips. You felt a cold sweat run down your back.

“Don't be like that, darling. I just want to chat. Buy you a drink, maybe?” His smile grows, and the sick glint in his eyes shows how much it amuses him to see you trembling.

“Sorry, I—”

“I believe the lady said she’s not interested, mate.”

A gruff, familiar voice cuts through the haze. You whip your head around to see Simon standing there. His face is half obscured by his black mask, but you'll recognize that steel gaze everywhere. For some reason, your heart gradually calms down in your ribs.

“And who the fuck are you?” the other asked angrily, puffing up his chest. A daring move, you think. His too-tight t-shirt reveals his consistent gym muscles, but if Simon is his opponent, you can be sure he's no match.

“Just not a fan of creeps harassing women. Now do yourself a favor and fuck off before I make you.” Simon threatened.

The color drains from the guy's face when he sees Simon's seriousness. He walked away, swallowing his wounded pride with a huff. The pressure recedes from your rigid frame as you watch the figure leave before turning to Simon.

"You hurt at all?" he asked, doing a scan of you to check for himself.

You shake your head, then manage a shaky “No, I'm fine. Thank you.”

Simon looked at you, then looked behind you towards the pub. When he turns back to you, his eyebrows raise slightly questioningly.

“You were in there your own?”

The warmth from his question traveled across your cheeks, striking a contrast with the night breeze. You didn't dare to meet his eyes, choosing to settle on your shoes instead. Despite having come here just to meet him, feeling under his judgment is like getting a shot of adrenaline into your legs—so much so that you want to run to get away from him.

“I, um…” Words fail you beneath your embarrassment.

How pathetic you must look—a lone girl nursing a drink with no companions, seeking solace in other people's conversations. You can't, however, just reveal your total lack of friends. Your mind searched frantically for a convincing reason.

“Just… needed to clear my head after a long day of practice. Thought the atmosphere might help.”

Even to your own ears, the lie falls flat. You didn't know if Simon noticed. Though you're pitiful, he doesn't furrow his brow or look at you that way. He asks no questions at all, not even about poor attempts at lying, and he doesn't press people on matters they would rather leave unsaid. Simon doesn't pry; you think that's his good quality.

Simon looked up at the dark sky instead. “Getting late, this is. I'll walk you to the tube.” He nodded, gesturing down the empty sidewalk.

Thick clouds rolled low. The two of you make your way towards the subway station, passing one by one the buildings constructed from buff-colored brick. Simon is striding beside you, his long legs eating up the pavement with ease. Secretly, you steal glances at his broad figure against the lamplight. Your eyes follow the line of his shoulders under his leather jacket—the way it molds into muscular arms.

This is different from your first meeting. There's no need now for nervous small talk to fill the quiet; you're not much of a talker, and Simon also finds more peace in silence.

Simon's presence feels more companionable than awkward. Warmth bloomed in your ribs as your lips curled into a small smile before it disappeared again. You both walk in wordless sync before you become bored and break it.

“I didn't really expect to see you again.”

Simon glances down at you, his brows quirking questioningly. Did you sound ungrateful? You rush to explain. “I mean, it was all like a chance thing, running into each other like that. Figured it was just... a one-time thing, you know?”

He thought about your words for a moment. “Funny how things work out sometimes.”

Up ahead, the glow of the station sign begins to appear. You bit the inside of your cheek as you slowly slowed down your pace, but you made sure it was unnoticeable. Your journey's end draws near, but you hope this togetherness can last longer.

Summoning your courage, you try, “Were you meeting someone at the pub? Before…” Your words trail off, but he seems to understand.

“Nah, wasn't meeting anyone,” he said casually. “Just fancied a drink, is all.”

You nodded, acting satisfied, but actually feeling a little disappointed. It seemed that he was in fact a frequent visitor, coming and going on any given evening; it was just for a drink, like before he met you. Meanwhile, you cling to the prospect of another chance to meet like a lifeline. As the station came into full view, your eyes fell, brewing more embarrassment and desperation in your stomach. Maybe he has someone waiting for him. What were you thinking, letting yourself hope?

Yet, though small, the rebellious part of you refuses to let this end.

"What do you usually drink?" You ask again, grasping for any excuse to extend your time, no matter how little.

“Bourbon,” he replied gruffly. “Kentucky, usually. Good drop.”

Twenty-three years old, but this discussion is still foreign territory for you. Your fingers can count the few times you've tasted alcohol—each occasion marred by your mother's voice in your head, warning of its evil. It's rather comical, considering how it once became her loyal companion for several years—that damned thing became the only thing she looked for after coming home from work and gulping it down flat on the living room sofa to dull her broken heart. You cannot yet judge her as a hypocrite or someone who has learned from her mistakes. As if a single glass would transform you into some fallen woman. It was always all or nothing with her; there was no concept of moderation.

Such inhibitions are not for Simon, though. A man of the world who has seen and done things that you could scarcely fathom. For him, a pint after work is as regular as taking a breath.

All too soon, you reach the stairs leading down to the station entrance. Your feet stopped when he did. Turning your body to face him, you gathered your courage and looked up. His eyes meet yours, and you see him about to open his mouth behind his surgical mask. No, you can't bear to hear that final goodbye.

“Do you..” You started. “Like anything else to drink, besides bourbon? I probably have… something at my place.”

There was a change in his gaze before he returned to his usual guarded gaze. Your cheeks screamed on fire at the implication that you didn't quite mean to make. Such an invitation should be the last thing a girl like you offers to a stranger she's only met twice, particularly at this hour. To your defense, though, he's now an acquaintance, and desperation influences people to do the unthinkable. The nights are getting colder and your lonely apartment won't do.

It seems that your question surprised him too. Simon scanned your face carefully before releasing the tension.

“Tea.”

When Simon replies with a single gruff word, you can't help but smile, ducking your head to hide it behind loose tendrils of hair. Lifting your eyes once more, you find him staring at you. Two people engaging in a silent game of deciphering, each trying to unravel the secrets of the other piece by piece.

“Tea,” you repeat softly, as if savoring the taste of the word.

Fingers twisting together, you steel your nerves before turning toward the stairs to lead the way down. You hear his footsteps fall solidly behind you. Not daring to look back out of fear that this dream will shatter, you mentally urge your feet faster.

At the platform's edge, mist curls between the rails like grasping fingers. Simon was standing right next to you. Slowly, the lights of an approaching train emerge, growing brighter by the second. With a weary hiss, the sliding doors open in front of you in welcome. You turned to Simon, then stepped aboard, and he followed, as you already knew.

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[im-actually-a-certified-idiot]

Smoke, Blood, and... Strawberries?

Summary: A Potions lesson on Amortentia gives Evan and Barty a nasty awakening. Only, Evan's a bit slow at realizing it.

Word count: roughly 2.9 k words

If you prefer to read it on Ao3, click here

Evan hated garlic. 

That sentiment wasn’t too unheard of, he knew; garlic was widely despised for its pungent smell. But Evan hated the taste as well- it was far too spicy and strong for him to bear. Even as a child, he’d realized his aversion towards garlic and made it very clear to all who knew him. Consequently, he was given the nickname “Vampire” and told to stop being so picky. (He refused to comply, of course.)

Unfortunately for him, there was no way to avoid it- not for another few years, at least. He had selected Potions as one of his classes to continue in his sixth year, and Professor Slughorn seemed to be overly fond of assigning his sixth year classes with potions containing garlic. What went on in that man’s head, Evan would never know, and he didn’t think he wanted to, anyway. 

“This smells like shit,” he complained to Regulus, who sat at the table in front of him. Unlike Evan, he seemed to be thoroughly enjoying the experience- so much that he had even taken complete control of the cauldron. His sleeves were rolled up, his face flushed from the heat- or perhaps exhilaration. He stirred the cauldron with a thick, fat wooden spoon, grinning as a silvery wisp of smoke began to rise into the air. Evan almost envied his enthusiasm.

His partner (whatever her name was), who sat beside him with absolutely nothing to do, didn’t look too bothered- she seemed to be too busy making moony eyes at the Gryffindor girl across the aisle, and all too happy to let someone else do all the work. The perfect pair, Evan thought sardonically. 

Regulus paused in his stirring, glancing over his shoulder at Evan. He looked rather annoyed to be interrupted. “It’s garlic. Do you expect it to smell like daisies?”

Evan scowled. “Thank you for your empathy,” he said sarcastically. “You’re very kind, Regulus.”

“Any time, Rosier.” Regulus turned back to his Potions. 

Little shit.   

Grimacing, Evan lifted his chopping board and tilted it sideways over the cauldron; the bits and pieces of garlic came sliding downwards, spilling into the cauldron with a series of staggered small splashes. He craned his neck to sniff and instantly jerked away- horrendous. He turned to complain to Barty, who had the empathy of the Galleon yet very much kinder than Regulus. But then he remembered that Barty was, in fact, not here. 

“Where the hell is that fucker? It’s twenty minutes in, even if he was late he should’ve showed up by now.”

“Who, Barty?” Regulus asked. 

“No shit, Sherlock.”

“He’s probably just skipping,” Regulus shrugged. “He always does that- and he hates Potions anyway.”

Evan shook his head. “He wouldn’t- the last time he skipped, Dumbledore owled his dad ...don't you remember the Howler he got the next day?”

“No.”

“The one that called him a disappointment? Said he was disgracing the entire family?”

“Doesn’t he get that every week?” said Regulus mildly, and it took every ounce of Evan’s practiced self-control to not strangle him by the neck. It was funny when he took a jab at Barty’s daddy issues, but whenever someone else did, it felt more offensive than amusing.

Perhaps Merlin himself was listening from the high heavens, or the universe decided to cut Evan some slack, but at that very moment, the dungeon door flung open, and Barty came stumbling inside, looking thoroughly disheveled. 

Slughorn, who was critiquing a student’s potion from the back of the dungeon, paused mid-sentence and called out jovially, “Mr. Crouch, I see you’ve finally joined us! Do you have a pass?”

“Yes, sir,” Barty replied, waving a small slip of paper in the air for Slughorn to see. He caught Evan’s eye and winked- forged, then. Not necessarily a surprise (it was Barty, after all), but this was- what? The fifth time in one month? Evan shook his head. Where was his Slytherin sense of subtlety?

Slughorn bustled all the way to the front of the dungeon, taking the note from Barty and peering at it behind his spectacles. Barty waited beside him, his face a smooth mask of calm innocence- but Evan could see him fiddling with the very end of his tie. A nervous tic that was sure to give him away, if Slughorn knew him well. Which he didn’t. 

“Professor Trelawney sent this?” the professor asked, frowning slightly at the note. There was a hint of doubt in his voice, as if he were finally catching on. It would be a grand day indeed if he finally did.  

“Yes, sir,” said Barty seriously. He tugged on his tie, plastering a charming smile on his face. “She broke a crystal ball and I volunteered to help her clean it up- she had another class right after, see, and she needed to get them started on their Dream Journals. I didn’t want her to have to go through such trouble.” Evan had to duck his head and bite his lip to suppress his laughter. Such a blatant lie. He waited for Slughorn to call Barty out, but the old professor was nodding along, completely buying into Barty’s utter bullshit.

“I see,” he murmured, as if he knew what a Dream Journal was (he probably didn’t, Evan thought). “Alright then, let’s get you partnered up…” He looked around the classroom, and Evan held his breath, crossing his fingers beneath the table. “It appears that Mr. Rosier is the only one working alone.”

Evan hid his grin as Barty nodded and replied obediently, “Of course, sir.” He pretended to examine the cauldron intently as Barty walked over, making sure to glance at his Potions textbook as if he were puzzled. But as soon as Slughorn’s back was turned, he glanced up to smirk at Barty, who shoved him in response. 

“Missed me, Rosie?” he asked mockingly, plopping down to sit next to Evan. “I could see you staring.”

“Not particularly,” Evan lied, faking nonchalance- he could feel himself growing uncomfortably hot under Barty’s intense look. “Thought you were done with forgery? What was it you said- a new man, new plan or some shit?”  

Barty pressed a finger to his lips, eyes filled with mirth. “Keep running that mouth of yours, Rosie, and I’ll have to do something about it.” It was just friendly banter, just him firing back, but for whatever reason, the words sent a small thrill down Evan’s spine. 

They locked eyes for a moment, Barty’s cocky smile faltering, and Evan got the absurd impression that they were embroiled in something fragile, delicate. Something easily broken if he wasn’t careful. He held his breath again, not saying anything as Barty’s lips opened, then closed. 

“One of these days, you’re going to get caught,” said Regulus, his voice breaking the spell. Barty tore his eyes away, and Evan considered strangling Regulus for the second time in less than ten minutes, though he wasn’t entirely sure why this time.

“Maybe,” said Barty, who stared straight at Regulus, as if he were pretending not to see Evan. His cheeks were flushed- but Evan didn’t think it was from the heat. “But the teachers here are so slow, I doubt it.” 

Regulus shook his head. “Don’t come crying when you get another Howler.” He jerked his head towards Evan. “This is all your fault. You encourage this shit all the time.”

Barty’s eyes flicked to Evan, then away. “Don’t be pissy, Reg. It doesn’t suit you well- I like you better when you're Mummy's good boy.”

Barty’s words had a surprising effect. “Oh, fuck you,” Regulus growled, making a hand gesture so crude and unlike him Evan had to suppress a snort. He turned back around, apparently done with conversing with the likes of Barty. But maybe it was because that was a sore spot- Regulus didn’t talk about his mother much, but when he did, it was enough for Evan to guess their relationship wasn’t as ideal as he acted like it was. 

Barty stared at Regulus’s back, like he was also recalling this and felt bad for it- but after a moment, he just shrugged and turned to Evan, though still not quite looking him in the eye. “You finished it?”

“Yeah,” said Evan. “It wasn’t too hard, really.”

Barty’s mouth twitched. “Potions prodigy.”

“That’s Regulus, actually.” 

There was a beat of awkward silence. 

“Attention,” called Slughorn from the front of the classroom, with absurdly perfect timing. Evan had never been happier to hear his voice. Perhaps the universe was feeling kind today. “Attention, students!” He waited a few seconds for the chatter to die down, and then continued. “Now, it’s time for the theory part of the lesson. I decided to do it a little differently today, because I wanted to see how well you all know your potions.”

There was a murmur of interest and surprise around the room. In the past six years, Slughorn had always used the more traditional teaching methods. This should be interesting, Evan thought, leaning forward in anticipation. 

“I wrote on the board,” Slughorn pointed his wand at the blackboard, “that this Potion is called the Draught of Living Death. It seems most of you did not think much of it, which is a bit disappointing, I must say, because this Potion that you happen to be brewing right now is not the Draught of Living Death.” The murmurs grew louder. “Does anyone have any guesses as to what it might be?”

Regulus’s hand shot into the air- and his only. Slughorn beamed at him. 

“Yes, Mr. Black?”

“Amortentia,” said Regulus promptly. “The Love Potion.”

His words sparked an almost dramatic outbreak of gasps and giggles. Beside Evan, Barty shifted slightly, and (when he thought Evan wasn’t looking) casted a furtive glance.  

 Slughorn smiled wider, looking pleased. 

“Very good, Mr. Black! Fifteen points to Slytherin.” He waved his wand, and the words Draught of Living Death rewrote itself into Amortentia. “Now, can anyone describe the effects of Amortentia?”

Again, it was only Regulus’s hand shot into the air. “Once drunk, it can allow anyone to become romantically infatuated with another person. Even just one sip can make someone fall madly in love.”

“Very good, my boy! Another ten points!” Slughorn looked utterly delighted “Does anyone know what happens when you smell it? No, not you, Mr. Black, you’ve answered enough.” He scanned the room; students began to slouch or pretend to be absorbed within their textbooks. “Miss Carrow?”

Alecto Carrow was not known for being clever or attentive- in fact, she was probably the dumbest girl in the year (if Evan had to be honest). Which was why it was quite a surprise to hear her answer correctly. “It smells like the person you’re in love with, sir.”

There was another outbreak of snickers in the classroom, accompanied by elbowing and knowing looks. Love. What a stupid thing. Evan almost rolled his eyes. “Settle down, settle down,” said Slughorn, though he might as well have been talking to a class of third years. “Now, the basic theory…”

***

Amorentia theory, as it turned out, was incredibly, devastatingly boring.

 In fact, only Regulus and a particularly nerdy Gryffindor seemed to be remotely interested in it- the rest of the class grew bored within minutes, returning to whispered, idle conversations, paper airplanes, and naps on top of the tables. Even Evan found his attention span wandering; after ten minutes; he resigned himself to doodling along the margins of his textbook.  

He had just finished sketching a large, looming thick skull when he felt a hard poke on his shoulder. “Oi, Rosie,” Barty whispered. Another poke. “Rosie.” A third poke. “Rosie~”

“Tell me, how hard do you have to work to be this annoying?” Evan muttered, dipping his quill in his ink bottle. He began to sketch a rose between the skull’s teeth, his strokes swift and short. He wasn’t an artist, per se, but his skills weren’t awful, and he actually kind of enjoyed it.“Or were you just born like this?”

Barty ignored the jab. “What d’you smell?”

“What?”

Barty gave a huge sigh, as if Evan were extraordinarily stupid. “The amortentia, dumbass,” he said impatiently. “What do you smell?”

Evan set his quill down, frowning. “Why do you wanna know?” he said, for the question seemed rather abrupt and suspicious to him. As far as he knew, Barty didn’t care for petty teenage affairs involving fickle romance. 

“Stop being a dick and just tell me.”

Evan glanced over at Slughorn, who was still deeply immersed in his rambling lecture and blissfully unaware of the lack of response he was receiving from the class. Slowly, he leaned over the cauldron and carefully wafted the fumes into his nose. 

“Smells like…smoke…” he said slowly.

“And?” Barty prompted. Evan took another sniff, and his brows furrowed deeper. 

“And…blood, I think…”

Regulus, who had been listening attentively to Slughorn up until then, chose that moment to twist around in his seat, eyes widening. “Blood?” he hissed incredulously. 

Barty waved him off, eyes glued to Evan. “And?”

Evan, growing bolder, inhaled deeply this time; it took a solid minute to catch even a whiff. 

“...and…strawberries?” The normality of that scent felt the most bewildering of them all. 

“Strawberries?” Regulus echoed. “What idiot smells like strawberries?”

“I dunno,” said Evan. He looked at Barty; he had erupted into a barrage of heavy coughs. “What’s wrong with you?”

“Fuck off,” was the brunette’s response, as if Evan had done something wrong. Barty turned away and began to dig through his bag, even though there was only five minutes left of class. 

Evan scowled and turned back to his drawing of the skull with the rose. Logically, there was nothing wrong with it- it was his best work yet, actually- yet he found himself hastily scratching it out, splotching it with ink until it was nothing but a dark stain. 

***

“Oi, Evan!” Regulus called from the other side of the room. “Would you mind doing me a favor?”

It was late in the afternoon, almost a week after the Amortentia potions lesson- Regulus stood in the doorway of the bathroom, hair freshly wet and rumpled from the shower, clutching an unusually large white envelope in his hand. 

They were the only ones there- everyone else had gone out- whether to study in the library, or go down to the Quidditch pitch to watch the Slytherin Quidditch team practice. Evan would’ve loved to join his peers, to escape the boredom and blandness of his dormitory, but his pile of homework was dangerously high- two essays, and a Herbology diagram, all due tomorrow. 

“I would mind very much, actually,” he said snidely, glancing up from his Potions essay. “If you can’t tell, I’m busy.” 

Regulus blew out an irritated sigh. “Please, Evan- I need to go send an owl to Lucius Malfoy. You remember him, right? He was a few years above us.”

A memory resurfaced within Evan’s mind, of a pale, blond boy with a pointed chin and a haughty, sneering face. Lucius Malfoy had been widely known for one thing and one thing only- his ability to talk for hours on end, without pause. “Vaguely.” 

“He and my cousin just got married yesterday- I need to send my congratulations, or else Mother will have my head.” Regulus jerked his head towards a small red bottle that sat on Barty’s bedside. “Can you throw that away? It’s Barty’s old shampoo- he switched to cinnamon or some shit, and he asked me right before he headed out to put it in the bin.” He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the empty space that had once been occupied by the trash bin. “However, as you can see, the bin isn’t here, which means you need to go throw it out in the common room.”

Evan scowled. “The shit I do for you,” he groused as he rose from his seat. He crossed the room in a quick patter of steps, grabbing the red bottle and scowling at it. “What kind of shampoo is this anyway…?” His voice trailed off at the label: strawberry scented. 

He and Barty had hardly talked since the Amortentia lesson; before, he’d chalked it up to the workload that had been steadily increasing over the last few days. But now, as he examined the shampoo bottle, an uncomfortable suspicion began to whisper in his mind.

“Regulus,” he said, slowly. “Why is this strawberry scented?”

Regulus, who was pulling on his socks, paused and frowned, as if the thought had never occurred to him. “I dunno- Barty likes strawberries?”

Evan’s heart began to pound very, very uncomfortably- he could feel it all piecing together in his mind, forming a picture he refused to see, to admit was true. Maybe on its own, he could ignore it. But strawberries and blood…it was too big of a coincidence…

“Say, Reg,” he said casually as Regulus began to put on his shoes. “You know where he is right now?”

“Probably out smoking with the Carrow twins- you know how he is. His lungs are gonna be shit before he even graduates.”

Smoking. 

“Why? Something wrong?”

“No,” Evan lied. He turned away, certain he wouldn’t be able to disguise his expression. Especially not to Regulus, who could read faces like books. “Nothing at all- just…curious, that’s all.” 

He waited until he heard the footsteps, and then the door shut. His whole body deflated, and he had to grab the nearest thing- a chair- to maintain his balance. He felt as if his whole world had been pushed off-kilter, like he was falling, floating, and flying at the same time.

Fuck. 

Oh fuck.

He was in love with Barty Crouch.

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

i hope everyone caught the skull + rose reference

[befuddledcinnamonroll]

Ok, I just caught up on last week's episode yesterday, after a busy week with both a guest and some mild food poisoning, so I am going to take my time and enjoy today's episode, because I deserve this dammit!

Lol, I was thinking sleeping together was a bold choice in a room full of people, and how they must not care if anyone knows...

Guess Peem lucked out to wake up first. Silly boy.

Haha, Peem is such a little doof, and I relate. I make faces like that when I'm alone too.

Kluen, sweetie, I don't think you're evil, but you do need to learn to pick up on vibes.

God I love Phuwin's physical comedic acting.

Ok, Kluen does get points for communication.

And Peem, dude, you're just leading Kluen on by pretending you don't like Phum. Give the guy a break.

Arg, nevermind, Kluen backed out of being clear too! These boys!

My heart, these little moments when Fang's sheer delight in Tan slips through.

Also adoring Fang being happy about his brother's crush.

Gaaaah, the chemistry between these two.

I love that they are explicitly making fun of the jealous boyfriend trope here.

If I have time, I really want to do a write-up of all the ways this show is gently making fun of or subverting so many traditional BL tropes, all while utilizing the most traditional of BL formats (ie university).

Poor Q, they really need to stop jerking him around. He's trying to do what Toey said!

Ok, I still think this plan was unnecessary, but it may be worth it for this shot alone.

Q really must be in love, because I'm not sure I would be that immediately forgiving.

Finally!!!

Phum & Peem are the couple I desperately need to make out, these two are the ones where Q just smiling at Toey makes me all happy.

Ok, good, Q is mad, just at his friends. Makes sense to me!

Phum, nooooo. Bringing up the slave contract was the exact wrong way to handle this!

Oh, but the way this show takes every relationship bump and directly spins it into a friendship support moment is just golden.

Beer once again being the episode's secret MVP.

Can we please have a Papang cameo where he shows up to date Beer? Our boy needs some smooches.

Totally normal about this hand placement.

Omg, and Chain lifting him in the water, I'm dead, just dead.

Coming out of a My Engineer rewatch, where the jealousy was just at an absolutely insane degree, can we take a moment to appreciate the evolution of the seme in these stories?

This is so healthy and mature, I adore it!!!

Oh god, though, the way Phum was surprised his apology was just accepted... this says a lot about his past experiences. Do we think it's his dad who's unforgiving?

Haha, Peem, "don't know" if you like him my ass.

Omg, Phum's smile, Peem's slip has given him life.

Haha, and then the roses!

And the painting! Oh, this is just perfect.

OMG FINALLY!!!

[mewhenimanangel]

—synopsis. you finally perform the solo you’d been practicing for the last three months. eren is sure to show up for you

—chapter 8 ౨ৎ

𝜗𝜚content!: au-high school, teenage romance, black reader, ballet dancer reader, cheesy romance, idiots in love

previous ౨ৎ next ౨ৎ

"you did what?!" lana whisper-yelled, scolding you as you stretched on the barre. you told her about how you blew off eren's date and told him off monday morning. she asked you how you and eren were doing since she hasn't seen you guys together all week.

you told her about how painfully awkward math class was. for the first time since sitting with each other, you and eren spent the entire lesson focused on mr ryan and writing down the notes. you even moved your self over a bit so to not bump against him.

"is this because of your dad?" lana asked. you rolled your eyes, she knew you too well. during your depressive episodes, lana was the one person you never successfully pushed away. she would show up to your house with snacks and a stuffed animal she thought you would like, your room was growing a collection at this point.

she would then spend the night with you in your bed so you weren't alone.

"maybe it is" you told her as you changed positions according to mrs jaeger's instructions.

"dude. i'm sorry but you can't keep doing this" she scoffed. "what? don't tell me how to cope with my feelings" you got a little defensive.

"you can't be serious." lana deadpanned "girls. focus." mrs jaeger said. "we're not done with this conversation" she whispered.

once mrs jaeger was done with practice, you joined lana at your designated spot in the room.

"listen i know how you get but eren didn't deserve that. he actually really likes you" she chugged her water before continuing "the fact that he even came up to you proves that. don't shut him out."

"fine you're right that he doesn't deserve it but..i think we might as well just leave it there. the show's in a week and i've been slacking off. plus i saw that he followed historia on ig again" you scoffed.

"okay that part is weird. but you can't be upset when you're the one that literally told him to go back to her. that's literally your fault"

"ugh shut up it's not like i meant for him to literally do it." "relax, i don't think they're back together. it's just a follow. connie would've told me if they did get back together"

"ugh i guess you're right" you sighed, grabbing your duffel bag. "practice?" she asked and you nod your head.

"you want me to come back to take you home?" she asked you. "nah it's fine i'll call my mom" you left the room.

you looked down at your phone for a second before you managed to bump into someone. "sorr- oh." annie cut herself off when she saw you.

you rolled your eyes before beginning to walk away. "so how are you?" she put on a phony apologetic voice. "what do you mean?" you furrowed your eyebrows.

"well rumor has it that you and eren are done and he's back with historia. that's gotta hurt doesn't it?" she frowned. "i wonder if mrs jaeger is gonna give me the solo now that you've broken her poor son's heart after slutting yourself out"

"...annie do you fucking hear yourself?  whatever the fuck i have going on has nothing to do with you or this solo. i never got the solo because i was talking to eren, i got it cause i'm actually a good dancer and i know how to do a basic fucking spin." you scoffed.

you put your earbuds in and walked away before she could say anything else. it's like everything in your life was just trying to test you this last week.

you spent the next two hours perfecting your solo and going over your parts in the recital.

unbeknownst to you, eren was out in the hallway watching. he subconsciously stopped outside the room when he was going to ask his mom for the keys to the house again.

eren wondered why you even still bothered with these long practices when every move you did while practicing was perfect. it was kind of silly to him. you spun around and eren quickly ducked past the window he was creeping from.

you furrowed your eyebrows, swearing you'd just seen someone standing there.

by this point you were starving, tired, and developing a headache so you decided it was best to call it a night, calling your mom to tell her you were done. you stumbled out of your pointe shoes and changed into the slides you'd brought with you earlier, putting on a pair of sweats over your shorts.

ʚɞ listen to cherry!

you were practically hyperventilating backstage. today was show day, meaning all the dance recitals including your solo. you were so nervous you felt your heart would drop out of your chest.

"dude relax, it's okay. you're gonna do amazing!" lana threw her arm around you. "yeah for real, we've all seen the way you practiced you're gonna do so fucking good" your friend kailee nod her head.

so far you had danced in your hiphop performance, your class's contemporary piece and your solo was coming up after the next performance, you would be closing the recital.

you were currently dressed in a garnet red backless leotard that had a ruffled skirt like hem, white pantyhose, and a pair of white leg warmers.

your hair was slicked back in the tightest bun with a red peony hairpiece while lana helped you with your makeup after you ended up running a little late this morning. "you actually look perfect" kailee handed you a mirror.

"y/n i hope you're stretched, you're up in two minutes!" mrs jaeger came up to you. your heart dropped all over again hearing those words.

lana and kailee squealed as you got up from the ground and started heading closer to the stage.

you took deep breaths as you waited for the school director to announce your name and you walked out on to stage, waiting for the music to start.

you gracefully danced along to the song, making sure the three months of long and intense practices were evident in the way you move.

you were running on adrenaline, making your body shake before you subconsciously shut the audience out and focused on your movements.

you sharpened every kick, graced every pirouette and every spin, matched your movements with the beat and lyrics of the song.

you pretended there wasn't a crowd of people - which was easy due to the dim lights in the auditorium, you pretended it was just you in the room, you pretended it was just you practicing in front of eren while he sat on the floor of the studio and watched your every move.

you wanted to make every move perfect just for him, even if he wasn't there in the crowd. you couldn't but relate the song to your situation with him as you passionately matched the energy of the song. 'I fall to pieces when I'm with you (why?) Cause I love you so much' you memorized those lyrics throughout your practices, you dragged your right leg back behind you as you bent your body back, lowering your self to the ground to match the dramatics of the music.

you looked into the audience, tripping every so slightly when you saw eren looking back at you. he was in the front row with connie, elbows on the armrests as he held his hands in front of his mouth, studying your every move intently. 

eren had memorized these moves and knew the dance was almost over. his gaze never left you and he noticed how your foot slipped when your eyes met his. but you managed to catch yourself, he loved that about you, you always seemed to find a way to get back up.

once you heard the last beat of the song that you'd become familiar with in the last three months you ended your dance in a pose - laying sideways on the floor with one arm holding you up and the other draped over your head, your eyes didn't leave eren's as you tried to hide your heavy breaths.

you tuned back in once you heard everyone in the audience begin to clap and cheer for you. you got up from the ground, smiled, and curtseyed before leaving the stage as the curtains closed.

once you were back stage, lana and kailee hugged you and began jumping around and squealing.

"i don't know WHY you were nervous that has to be the best performance of the whole show" lana praised you. "yeah seriously everything was perfect" kailee nod her head. the other girls back stage clapped along for you too.

mrs jaeger came over to the three of you clapping her hands before reaching out to hug you. "that was beautiful y/n! i knew i made the right decision making you my soloist. every last move was so graceful, even when you tripped and made it look as though it was part of the routine" she told you.

"thank you mrs jaeger" you smiled. "such a beautiful end to such an amazing recital. you all did wonderful jobs this evening i am truly proud. everyone give yourselves a round of applause"

after taking a group picture, you all went to the dressing rooms to grab your things and meet your families in the auditorium.

you grabbed your duffel bag and put on your sneakers. "we ate every performance up oh my goddd" lana squealed as you walked to join the crowd in the audience. on the way there you bumped into mina and annie who rolled her eyes when she saw you.

"nice performance. you looked somewhat decent" she sighed. "thanks" you scoffed before walking away with lana.

for some reason it hit you hard that this would be your last performance, it was almost bittersweet. "can't believe we're leaving this place after this year" lana sighed as you entered the auditorium.

"it's crazy we're literally graduating.."

you scanned the audience for your mom before she turned around, smiling as she made her way to you. "ohhh my baby. you did so good, it was beautiful! and you had the audacity to be nervous like you weren't gonna blow the crowd away!" she hugged you and bobbed from side to side.

"you liked it?" you smiled. "i loved it!" she cheered as she gave you the bouquet of pink peonies. "yeah you actually looked really good" enya chimed in. "thanks kid" you smiled as you brought her in for a side hug.

"ohhh and lana you looked amazing up there sweetie" she pulled your friend into a hug. "every chasse every spin every move ugh you girls are perfect. you keep me young" your mom pulled you into the group hug.

"thank you so much mrs l/n" lana grinned. "oh hang on i'll see you guys later i see my dad" she told you as you all said goodbye.

mrs jaeger came over to you and your mom to congratulate you and praise your work to your mom. "she's such a wonderful dancer, i'm going to miss her next year" she turned to smile at you. "i'll always visit" you smiled.

the four of you turned around when you heard someone clear their throat behind you. your heart sank when you saw eren standing there. he wore a black polo shirt and baggy black jeans.

your mom and mrs jaeger each other a look "sweetie i'll be outside okay?" your mom told you as they stepped away.

"hey" eren stepped closer to you, reaching for a hug. "hi" you threw your arm around him pulling him into the embrace.

"you looked amazing up there" he pulled away to look at your outfit.

eren didn't tell you he was gonna be at the recital but connie brought him along.

watching you dance was always nice but watching you dance your heart out on stage was just so beautiful and encapsulating. eren couldn't get enough of you. everything about you was so graceful and beautiful all the time.

he knew he had to see you once you were done, but he was nervous considering the two of you hadn't spoken much in the last two weeks. he was shocked you even hugged him.

"thank you, did you like my solo?" you grinned. "it was fucking amazing. i don't know what you were so scared of, those practices definitely paid off." he smiled.

"they definitely did" you nod your head, a friendly gesture. "thanks for coming, i didn't think you would" you told him.

"of course i would, i was with you so much when you practiced i had to come see the final product" he smirked as he bumped your shoulder.

your mom came up behind you and put her hand on your shoulder. "hi, i'm y/n's mom" she smiled as she put her hand out for eren to shake. "hi it's nice to meet you, i'm eren" he told her.

"oh well it's nice to finally put a face to the name, i've heard so much about you" she told him and your face dropped when you realized what she meant. eren looked at you with a cocky grin on his face and you smiled before rolling your eyes.

"well it was really nice meeting you but we're gonna have to head out if we wanna make those dinner reservations" your mom turned to you. "oh right" you looked back at eren.

"seriously thanks for coming" you hugged him again and his hands lingered on your waist for a beat longer than they should've.

"of course, i'll see you later" he waved to you and your mom.

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

7. Domestic Dinner Dates

Cooper Howard × Fem!Reader / The Ghoul × Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence. From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen

I fix my shirt in the mirror. A knowing smile on my lips. “You look nice Daddy.” Janey catches my attention from the open doorway. Tomorrow we planned on discussing the future with Janey. She was a smart girl. She had noticed a shift in the dynamic of the house. She never once picked a side. She was pure of heart and full of joy. I kiss her forehead as I exit. “Thank you, sweetheart.” She follows on my heels. “Where are you going?” I look over my shoulder with a grin. “I'm having dinner with a friend. I wish I could stay honey pie. I heard your moms making your favorite tonight.” I stand at the door, grabbing the keys off the table.

Barb walks out of the kitchen, Pip-Boy on, files in hand, and a pep in her step. “Actually,” she starts with a simple smile, “I’ve got a meeting, and it was so short notice I couldn't find a sitter. Janey can tag along with you to dinner with your… friend. Can’t she?” I stare at her in disbelief. No doubt this was a planned move. She’s so particular in scheduling. There was no way she didn’t know at least days in advance.

I chew on the inside of my cheek. Would (y/n) feel overwhelmed? Fuck I’m sure. This JUST started and here I go tossing her into the fire. Barb sure as hell knew of my plans.

Janey smiles and jumps in excitement. “Yeah, Daddy, can I?” Barb smiles with evil eyes; an innocent mask. I scoop Janey up in my arms, “Of course you can!” I exit the house with my daughter in tow. I drive over to her house hoping for the best, but expecting the worst.

“Who are we going to dinner with, Daddy?” Janey asks as she watches the passing cars and trees. “You remember that singer you like? I took you to see her a while back.” Janey gasps loudly, “(y/n)? Yes! Is she nice? Will she like me? Can I sing with her?” I laugh at her various questions. “I’m sure she’s going to love you, Janey.”

~

Three solid knocks on the door notify me of Cooper's arrival. I stand from my spot on the couch, straightening my outfit to perfection. My nerves were shot, and my hands were fumbling with the door knob. I opened it to see him, I couldn’t help but smile. Dashing in a dress shirt and coat. The fall air is crisp in the evening. “Hi,” in a daze I exit the house and lean into him. He distanced himself, glancing back to his vehicle. I feel the clenching in my chest. Was he not here to pick me up? Is Barb in the car? Was this a setup? "Cooper? What's wrong?"

"There's been a slight change of plans." I stare at him with wide eyes, my hands beginning to shake. "Oh?" He nods back to the car, "Janey is tagging along." My nerves ease slightly. "Your daughter?" Why on earth would she be coming? Wouldn't Barb flip if she knew? I'm sure she's told Janey what she thinks of me. Cooper nods with a sigh, "If you want to reschedule or, just cancel, I understand." I look at him in confusion, "Now, why on earth would I cancel just because you had Janey? I've been wanting to meet her forever now." He shrugs, a shy smile creeping its way to his lips. "Well, I don't know. I didn't want you to feel overwhelmed. She's a real good kid." I grab his hand and tug him down the driveway. "Then we better not keep her waiting."

I enter the car with a smile. "Hi! I'm Janey!" She beams as she clings to the back of my seat. "Hello Janey. My name is (y/n). I've heard so much about you." She gasps and smiles at Cooper. "Really? I've heard so much about you too! My dad loves to talk about you." I blush as she reveals his secrets. "He says your hair smells like apple pie." She giggles causing Cooper to shake his head. "Okay, that's enough out of you."

We arrived at the restaurant, ate, and left with no issue. I enjoyed it with Janey even more than I would've just Cooper and I. She was the sweetest little girl. So full of wonder and light. She skips down the sidewalk singing a song. We stroll up to the theater. An idea sparks in my head. "Janey! Do you want to see something cool?" She stops mid-skip and turns on her heels. "Yeah!"

I peel myself from Cooper's side and dig in my purse for my keys. "What are you doing?" Cooper asks from behind. I insert the key into the lock with a grin. "We're going to show Janey what it's like to be on the big stage." I open the large door to the theater. Darkness enveloped the building until I flicked the switch. One by one the rows of light lit up each row before lighting up the large stage, the red velvet curtain hanging with grace. "Whoa!" Janey gasps as she runs down the empty aisle. Cooper watches her with a grin, a proud smile on his face. He races after her, helping her onto the stage and spinning her around. He cared for her deeply. I could only feel my heart swell for him more.

We sang, danced, and laughed together. It felt natural as if the universe brought us all together for the pure reason of making each other happy. As Cooper pulls up into my driveway I feel my chest clench. I didn't want this night to end. I bring my head up from resting on his shoulder and frown at him. "I wish you could stay," I whisper to him lowly. He parks the car and meets my gaze. The longing look in his eyes begging to be released. He looks back to Janey, who is happily admiring the large house. "It is getting a little late." I nod in agreement. His smile growing. "And it's almost an hour and a half drive back to your house." Cooper looks at Janey once more. "Janey, what do you say we stay here with (y/n) tonight and hit the road in the morning." She shrugs with a simple grin. "Okay." This child was too easy.

Janey wanted the grand tour, and so she received the tour. She even recorded a short original song in the recording studio. It wasn't too long before she was yawing, silently begging for a bed to rest. Cooper settled her in the guest bedroom and in the meantime I rolled a small joint, prepping for tomorrow. I licked the paper and rolled it up nicely. "And what are you doing, darlin'?" Cooper asks as he walks down the steps. He walks around like he owns the place, clearly comfortable in my home. The thought made me smile. I wave the small joint. "Just rolling. Don't worry, I'm putting it up." He shrugs, taking the seat next to me. "Well, now hold on a second." I look at him in disbelief. "No way." "I was young once too." I grab his face, pecking his lips. "You're still young, Cooper." He rolls his eyes and grabs the joint out of my fingers. "You turn 40 and then come talk to me, sweetheart."

Back and forth, back and forth, again and again, Cooper and I smoked the joint until it was almost gone. I followed his hand as it moved closer, “Want another toke, sweetheart?” My eyes move up to his, a smirk growing. I wasn't a lightweight, but Cooper was a drug that made me high all in itself.

I took the joint from his fingers and took another, longer than necessary drag. I hold it in as I hand the joint back of the red eyes squinted, Cooper smiles at me like a teenager. He watches every inch of my face with intent. He runs his index finger down my cheek. "I love you." Those three words are more addictive than anything on earth. I nuzzle into his hand. "I love you, Cooper." I kiss down his palm, the deeper I go the lighter I feel.

“You know,” I begin, keeping my eyes fixated on him. "We could always… go to bed." He raised his brow, "Go to bed?" I stand from the couch, running my finger over the pearls around my neck. "Don't you want to take me to bed, Cooper?" He bites the inside of his cheek, "I think I do."

He picked me up with ease, attaching our lips in a heated passion. He maneuvers the staircase and the hallway with ease, entering my bedroom and tossing me down on the plush sheets. He lays down, hands on my hips.

Confidence soars when I'm high, and I wanted Cooper since the second I opened my front door. "I want you so bad," I breathe out into his neck, grasping at the collar of his shirt. He smirks, “What are you waiting for then, sweetheart?”

I crawl over him, my legs moving to straddle his waist. I bite my lip as you look down at him, eyes burning with desire. He brings a hand up, gently laying it on my cheek, “You’re so beautiful.”

I lay a hand on his cheek, smiling as you lean down, “I love you, Cooper.” I press my lips to his, sliding my hands down his shirt, unbuttoning his shirt one by one. His hands grip my hips as I continue to undo his shirt until it is open. I begin to run my hands over his bare chest. He leans back, “I love you.”

He pushes my hips and I dig my nails into his skin as I grind down onto his throbbing length. I whimper, “I need you.” He smiles against my lips and strokes my hips with his thumbs, “In good time, baby. Just relax, okay? Let me take care of you.” Cooper lays me down on the bed, his body over mine. My legs hook around his waist. He leans his head down to kiss my neck. I let out a moan as he sucks a deep purple mark into my skin.

He kisses up to my lips and slides his hands up under my dress. His hands found my breasts. He massages them with a groan, digging his crotch into my clothes core. I arch my back, eyes rolling closed as his fingers pinch and pull at my nipples, “I want to take it slow. Okay, baby?”

I open my eyes, moaning as he continues to slowly roll my nipples between his fingers, “F-fuck, Coop.” I slide a hand around to press it to his cheek, “Go as slow as you want baby.” You smirk, “But, next time You should throw me around a little.” His length hardened more just from the words spoken.

“Goddamn, I love you.” His lips crash onto mine again and he pushes his hips deeper. “I'm going to take these off. Okay, honey?” I nod, moving my hips to assist him as he slides my panties off. He tosses them to the floor, caressing my legs slowly, kissing up to my knees, and down my thighs.

He brings his fingers to his lips, collecting a little spit before he drops his hand down to my needy cunt. I let out a breathy moan, my head already buzzing from the high. I look up at him, biting down on my lip as I feel him push two fingers into my cunt. I gasp and slide my hand to the back of his head. I toss my head back, "Cooper," I whine, "Please don't tease." I could feel the smirk against my lips. He traces my tongue, before removing his fingers.  

He replaces his fingers with the head of his cock, pushing into my flower. I grip the sheets, eyes closing as I feel my walls stretching around him, “Fuck, Cooper, you feel so good.” I look up at him, face twisting with pleasure as he pulls out and pushes back in.

He leans down, hips rolling slowly into mine, “You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen.” I arch my back, clenching around him as he swallows my moans, “I’m gonna cum if you keep squeezing my cock like that.”

Running a hand through his hair, I bite his neck, suckling his skin in several places. “You fuck me so good.” His eyes search mine as a smirk grows on his face, “I love when you say that shit to me.” I tighten my legs around his waist as I gasp, “fuck,” I squeeze his cock, my orgasm tearing right through me. I cry out, coving my mouth with my hand, “Don’t stop, don’t stop, don’ts-“ “Fuck, (y/n).” He groans as he fights his grips on my hips, “Come on, pretty girl.” He kisses my lips and leans up, “I want to feel it. Come for me, baby” I let out a moan and tightened my grip around him, moaning out his name over and over again.

Cooper manages to keep his thrusts steady enough to guide me through my high before his cock quickly vacates. He reaches down, stroking his cock while I plant gentle kisses on his face. I feel his hot cum spill out into my pelvis. He rolls over with a groan and a ghost of a smile. He lays still for a solid minute before I nudge him with my foot. I couldn't help but giggle, "Coop, honey, I love you. You think you can get me a towel?" His head pops up with a light grin. "Oh, shit, yeah." He scurries off to my bathroom, returning with a hand towel. Cooper cleans up his mess with delight.

He leans in and pecks my lips, “I love you.” I smile, returning the gesture “I love you too.” I kiss his face several places making him grin, “I’m going to go get us a snack, do you wanna roll us another one?” I look at him wide-eyed. "Cooper Howard. The pot smoker. What would your fans say?" He shrugs, tugging his pants back on. "A man can live a little." He leans forward with a smile, “So you want anything special?” His hand resting on my cheek with a dopey grin. I shake my head, “Just you, so hurry back."

[kittenlittle24]

Chokehold

Request: f!reader is part of the diagnostics team and one day, they realized that one of the cases they were handling involved a physically abusive parent, which started the patient’s condition. Reader went to confront the parent, which in turn made the parent attack her, and then Dr. House saw this and came in to save her. and then some fluff? and yes, house and f!reader is secretly in love with house @schnitzelbutterfingers

a/n: I based it on s2 e13 but also changed it to fit the request better, I apologize it’s short I had a real writing block.

Btw, gifs aren’t mine! Likes, comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated!

“A 15-year-old model was given by her father before taking the stage at a big fashion show. After walking out, she gets into a violent confrontation with another model, then collapses on the runway.” Cameron presents.

“The tox screen shows she has been taking heroin.”

House ordered a rapid detox procedure thinking the drugs are masking another disease and that we don't have time to wait four weeks to find out. Formen and Chase explained the risks to her father, who agreed to the procedure. They put the patient into an induced coma. She later went into cardiac arrest, of course, they revived her. They explained to the father that if they bring her out of the coma before the detox is over, she will be in extreme pain.

When the girl came out of the coma, she showed signs of short-term memory loss, which House diagnosed as PTSD as the result of sexual abuse from her father.

Cameron of course went straight to Cuddy who called child services, however, you were the lucky one to be cornered by the dad.

“You called child services on me?! I do everything for her! She’s my daughter!”

Slowly you tried to walk away as you denied till your back hit the wall, then you knew you were screwed. He was so close to you, that you smelled his breath and felt his spit splattered on your face as he continued to yell, you hoped one of the nurses would come by already and call security but the next thing you knew he had his hand around your throat, grasping his wrist you tried to move it away, the tears in your eyes blocked your sight, your chest starting to hurt.

He stopped as quickly as he started and fell to the floor. Falling to your knees as well you looked up to see House standing behind him, his cane raised.

“What did you do?” You rasped out.

“He was choking you!” He argued as he helped you up and the security guards lifted the assaulting man.

He took you to his office where he examined you.

He lifted your chin gently and looked at your neck where you already started to bruise.

“Might want to wear a turtleneck,”

You nodded, “Why did you come to check on me? You were supposed to be in the clinic and you never visit patients.”

“Teen model? The perfect excuse to avoid clinic.”

Grasping his arm, “House.”

“I had a bad feeling about the dad, I had to make sure you were safe,” he whispered.

Stepping closer to him, “You were worried about me.”

He nodded once.

Stand on your tip toes, you cupped his cheeks and leaned forward, slowly placing your soft lips on his, giving him plenty of time to stop you.

Instead of stopping you, he wrapped his arms around you and pulled you closer.

[fatedbutblinking]

meeting the parents. jason grace x eros daughter

jason and eros' only half-blood daughter are in love

everyone knew that about them but they refused to admit that it was true to everyone, each other and themselves

then they 'accidentally' sleep with each other one night

despite trying to be the perfect and detached leader, jason can't help but confess first

not only is she the most beautiful girl that he has ever seen, but she pushes him to be the best version of himself. she's caring but biting. she's excited him since the day he met her. and she is really good in bed so

and she thinks his arms are sexy

then comes parent day, one day a year where all the gods are forced to spend the full day on earth with their children

as the only daughter of eros and with jason being one of zeus' only children, zeus and eros decide to take them out for a nice meal

zeus and eros aren't keen on each other, because eros keeps trying to shoot arrows at him and human ladies to piss off zeus' wife hera

soo it's a bit awkward

'i can't believe you're in love with a boy who looks like he should be on a cereal box.'

jason almost spits out his water.

'dad,' she hisses.

'it's like dating peter pan on steroids.'

'nice,' jason jokes.

'don't push it, eros,' she hisses again.

'they're barely dating. of course my son is going to be drawn to a barbie doll.'

'don't talk about her like that,' jason says sternly.

'it's not bad to admit that. she's shiny. it's a good break for you, son.'

jason shakes his head. 'you're such a --'

eros ignores what zeus says and continues to her. 'i know you're in love with him. i can feel how much you do, trust me, and i know he loves you more -- obviously -- but you should still keep your options open.'

zeus puffs his chest. 'of course you're encouraging disloyalty, eros.'

'you're not exactly a saint, zeusy.'

'and whose fault is that?'

'the arrows don't force you to fall in love. they only make you do what you otherwise would if logic wasn't in the picture.'

'i'm already tired of being here.'

'then you shouldn't have made the plan.'

'i had to. you would have taken them to a brothel otherwise.'

'fuck off.'

and so zeus and eros argue

jason and her look at each other. she grasps his hand.

'i'm sorry.'

'no, i'm sorry. your hair is very shiny, but i love you for a lot more than that.'

'really now?' she teases.

'yeah. i like your face, your body, your lips...'

'very funny, grace.'

'i'm more than my looks as well, you know.'

'i don't know. i think he's right about you looking like peter pan. the buffer, sexier, more stupid version.'

'ha-ha-ha.'

'i am sorry, jase. you'd think my dad being the god of love and affection would mean he'd be nice.'

'don't be sorry. they're gods. they're always going to think they're right.'

'but they're our fathers.'

'even more reason for them to think they're right.'

'i love you.'

'i love you more. your dad's not wrong about that part.'

suddenly they notice it is really quiet around them. both zeus and eros are staring at them, having listened to part of their conversation. they seem to be a little bit shocked, but regain their composure quickly. eros ends up smirking, folding his arms on his chest and leaning back as he stares at them. zeus watches them with curiosity, eating an olive.

'what?' he asks. 'what is it?'

'have you two picked what you want to eat?' zeus asks, motioning to the menu.

'i thought you guys wanted to leave,' she says.

'it just happens that you're obsessed with each other,' cupid explains. 'i should at least try to find out why.'

zeus nods. that's the first time that they agree with each other. both of their heads dart towards the menu as they bicker over what food they're going to get.

jason smiles softly and holds her hand. she is a bit in shock now.

'guess we're hard to deny,' he says.

'we? i'm the shiny one,' she jokes, squeezing his hand back.

[lunchtimebedamned1997]

Cosplay WIP and Doodle Dump >:3

Haven't really been working on a bunch of digital art lately bc I've been busy working on cosplays and crying over Stolitz XD

But I thought I'd show you all what I've been working on since I'm really excited about it! <3 (So many updates :D)

Let's start with Helluva doodles!

I finally started drawing Blitzø and Fizzy-Frog! <3 Fizzy looks so much healthier in the newst ep I could CRY ohhh my goddd. And both Fizz and Blitzø look so dapper! Little cuties! Little cuties who are friends again! My heart!

Next up: Cosplay props!

We've got a lot of stuff for the Vees, and then a liiiitle bit of Angel Dust progress to show y'all!

Let's start with Vox since I only have one main thing I've made so far!

I had an old pair of headphones that stopped working, and I'd already worn them to costest Vox (since I'm not going for the TV screen approach) and so I thought I could give them a makeover! I decided to do the symbols from his silly little hat, and paint the microphone tip to resemble the little red bauble at the end of his antenna!

I just sanded the labels off, painted everything in acrylic and then sealed it with clear nail polish, pretty simple stuff, but I'm really pleased with the effect! And I think it will be a nice touch for the costume! <3

Now onto Valentino! I have the most stuff for him so far bc everything that wretched man owns is cool AF and I wanted to make, like, all of it XD

I started with the guns from 1x02 ala: "Which of these makes me look sexier ;3" since I thought they were both pretty iconic and I definitely want to film that little clip once my cosplays are ready to go hehe

(My reference Image ^)

This pink one is definitely my favorite, both in the show and based on how it came out in the end! I've only ever built one propgun before this for Jinx, so it was really fun to get back to it again! Lots of math and measurements, but luckily I'm a little racoon creature who hordes recycling like my life depends on it XD Even though he actually bedazzles another gun in the meeting room in 1x02, I was not about to make a third one in the span of two weeks, so I decided to just put it on one side of the pink, and I really love it tbh!

The gold and grey definitely looks a bit more... cardboard-y, but I'm okay with it tbh, I don't love the design of this one as much, so I probably won't be using it on it's own as often as the pink! But I still think it turned out well overall! Especially bc by the time I got to this one my exacto-blade was crapping out on me hardcore lmao

I also have two hand options ready for Valentino! I noticed that sometimes he has gold claws, and sometimes his hands are fully black, so I thought it would be good to have a couple options!

I went ahead and ordered some pleather gloves which I think work really well for him on their own, but then I also took some fake nails and layered them with gold acrylic paints and clear nail polish to make his 'actual' hands. I figured if I need a particular close-up for a shot it would be really cool to use black facepaint on my skin, and then have these nails stuck on! I just used eyelash glue to test out affixing them last night, and I think it actually worked super well!

Since the nails are pretty, well, claw-like I don't want them on all the time, but I still need them to stay when I'm moving around in costume, and I think the eyelash glue is kind of the perfect things for my at-home cosplay needs! I'd definitely want to do something stronger if I was going to a con in these, but yeah - XD I'm rambling, anyways -

Let's move onto Velvette!

I had an extra set of gold nails I'd made, that I was originally planning on attaching to the gloves (I did not like how that looked lmao) but I didn't want them to go to waste, so I used some of the little gems and do-dads that I had laying around to make them match one of the bra-tops I'm planning to use for Velvette! (Yes that sparkly orange and pink thing on the left is what I tried to match it to!)

I have a plethora of blank fake nails now, so I think it would be really fun to make a pair that matches each of Vel's outfits! I hyper-fixated on nail art for a couple years when I was a kid, so I'm really excited to play with those skillz again lmao - especially because I can use acrylic paint for these instead of nail polish which really cuts down on cost and expands my color ranges exponentially!

The last thing I have to show you for the Vee's specifically is the wigs I ordered for them! (I want to scream, I'm so excited!!!!)

(All of these are from Wig Is Fashion btw, notspon or anything I just have really loved their wigs so far! I really hope these three work well!)

Finally, my gloves for Angel and a couple of my colored lights for filming came in, so I just threw on one of the outfits I have ready for him, the wig I styled, and the gloves to get a feel for how it was coming along :3

I think I want to get different little shorts for this look (maybe pleather?) and figure out a couple other details to add in, because I feel like there is currently too much 'blank' space in the look. I'm sure that will be lessened by the makeup, set, etc. But I want to make sure the extra looks I have for characters still feel 'designed'/styled well, obvi.

Anyways! Lots of work to do, and I still need to buy a new sewing machine so i can make some of the actual outfits from the show, but it's all a process lmao

I'm planning a full-on Angel CMV atm, as well as a ton of other videos, but that's all a ways away lmao, I wanna really put effort into it which means time haha

I did already post some little Cherri, Angel, Vox and Charlie closet-costests to my TT if y'all are interested! I've also made Millie and Blitzø horns, but tbh I just can't be assed to get pictures of all of that rn XD if you look at the most recent (as of rn lmao) 'cosplay updates' vid that's up, you can see the horns, wigs etc that I didn't show in this post!

My main links are all right here if you want 'em: https://lunchtimebedamned.carrd.co/

And with that I'm going to go have brain-off time LMAO I've been working non-stop for weeks on this. I'm also sorry to anyone waiting for the Ch.4 update on The Space Between Us, this chapter is deciding to be very slow-going and difficult. IRL stuff is probably heavily contributing to that, but oh well. Know that I am working on it <3

[theaceace]

imagining a world in which Simon agreed to go with Edwin and try to escape hell, imagining Simon developing an immediate and very inadvisable crush on the cute guy that just threw a grenade at a demon and Edwin's reaction to that, imagining the reaction of Charles Overprotective Rowland when he finds out that the guy Edwin insists on dragging along with them is one of the guys that sacrificed him to a demon in the first place, imagining the Night Nurse's face when three dead boys pop back through the door instead of two

[4esthetic-dissonance]

I'm working on a fic and was like 'how in the hell do you make LINGUANG JUN the least bit redeemable?'. I mean, /Linguang jun/ who tossed a developmentally four year old Mobei Jun to a pack of humans? The kid could have died. And then I saw a translation of the extras. It describes lgj as mbj's 'young uncle', says that he 'wasn't that much older than him (mbj)'. And I just- its a hell of a lot different, a Scar type tossing his nephew to the proverbial wolves than it is for a maybe dumb, maybe petty, maybe developmentally five or six year old to shove their annoying technically-nephew-who-in-age-and-context-is-more-like-a-brother-than-lgj's-actual-brother into a situation that the text implies was more frightening than actually /dangerous/. And that- well I can work with that.

[crossbackpoke-check]

Why I Am Not Coming In To Work Today [abridged], Jess Zimmerman

part one | part two

[evignonita]

uhghhg buzz grunt..... 😢..

[kenzan-kiwami]

i really love how much your perspective on... basically everything inoue says to ryoma in ishin! changes on the second playthrough

knowing that he grassed "saito" up to kondo immediately and fucking PLAYS DUMB whenever he says something immediately suspect, and yet, through all of this, covers for his sorry ass at every turn, even knowing there's a real possibility ryoma would cut him down on the spot if he found out who he was

both of them bullshit each other so much through the whole game, and it makes me sad they didn't ever get to speak as equals with no false names attached

[magnuspirate]

Kidd could be the best dad ever 😂 ( i love him sooo much)

As long as you don't touch or break his personal stuff you can do whatever you want.

You want to play with the knife? Go for it.

What, you want to hold a gun? Alright but be careful.

No babysitter? Anyway, you're coming with me to the pub.

Monsters! Where? I'll kill that mf!

Bad dream? Come here *kisses you on the forehead and holds you tightly