#alas I was a few years from being born

[headbandsandflats]

“It was like A Chorus Line fucked Our Town.”

Bradley Whitford, talking about his Juilliard class meeting up 31 years later, on WTF with Marc Maron

[ozzgin]

The Mean Girl Bully Reader x Nerd Loser Yandere story sparked another red flag reader idea I had 😈

Imagine a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere. Unlike our favorite monster whore gal, and two-faced bully, this new reader insert is super vocal about her distaste in just about everything. Hardly anything is up to her “standards.” She not only complains, but whines too! 🥳

Then her poor beau weirdly loves her despite her horrid personality. I don’t know how, I’ll leave that part of imagining up to you, but there’s my request 🥺

I just like morally grey or blatant antagonistic readers. A lot of times, it’s more fun if the reader is attractive this way to a yandere, than having stereotypical good traits, like being compassionate or respectful 😔

So please, a Bratty Female Reader x Well Mannered Wealthy Male Yandere?

-👘

I was wondering if I should just incorporate this into the Yandere CEO draft I have, but I had this sudden idea for a downright shameless relationship between a beloved, well-respected politician and a perverted, needy brat of a Darling. (I don't like politicians but alas, I needed a high-stakes public profession for this)

Yandere! Politician x Bratty! Reader

Mr. Politician is a true rarity in his field of work: well-mannered, articulate, and most importantly, genuine in his dedication. He works tirelessly for change and improvement, earning the adoration of the people. There's only one exception to his loyalty: no country ever comes before his Darling. And what a demanding Darling you are...

Content: female reader, older yandere, NSFW, some exhibitionism

Many would describe their interactions with Mr. Politician as follows: he's disciplined, confident and resourceful. A natural born leader, you can tell within seconds of meeting him that he is a man to rely on. He's spent many years in the game, and nothing can shake him out of his signature calmness. He keeps everything in pristine order, and nothing escapes his scrutiny.

There is, however, one quirk only few select people know about. A detail no one dares to discuss. It is common knowledge that Mr. Politician has a partner, yet the particularities of it are kept private. His beloved is a much younger girl, rotten to the core. It is unclear how this pairing came to be; the day Mr. Politician won his place in his prestigious office, he showed up with the mysterious feminine figure at his side.

What's certain and obvious to all witnesses is that his vocabulary quickly discards any meaning of refusal whenever he's dealing with you. It almost feels like the man worships you. He's never alluded to being religious, most likely because that role's been taken already. His eyes soften whenever directed at you, gleaming with raw adoration.

Splurging on expensive things is a given. Money has never been an issue for someone of his status. In fact, it's a handy and convenient tool he frequently uses to dampen the damage of your tantrums.

"Disgusting", you spit between your teeth, pushing the plate away and crossing your arms. The renowned chef of the Michelin star restaurant can only stare in horror before Mr. Politician intervenes with a chuckle. "Not feeling it today, huh?", he coos at you with loving strokes. "May I ask that you bring everything else from the menu?" he says in a sterner voice to the employee. "E-everything, Sir?" the waitstaff questions. "Well, naturally. I can't let my Darling starve."

"I'm bored. Let's leave now", you mention bluntly, standing in front of the heavily ornate table with a huff. "Are you sure, Darling? It's an important meeting for the country", Mr. Politician tries to plead. Around him, the other men sit baffled, observing the outrageous exchange. "Now!" you conclude louder. Before anyone can protest, your boyfriend stands up obediently and reaches out for your hand. "Then allow me to guide you, love."

A paradox. His earnest work is put to a halt if you require anything from him. Somehow, he has until now managed to juggle the two with little effort, and to his credit, there have been many instances requiring nerves of steel. Such as you paying him an unannounced visit to the office, and disliking the fact he was unavailable due to a meeting. So, you marched over to the window and promptly flashed your chest against the glass. Everyone else was focused on the opposing whiteboard; he was the only one who immediately noticed your arrival. "As you can see, the expected result is irresistible", he continued with a professional smile, tapping the graph with a marker.

Everyone knows Mr. Politician is fervently devoted to his principles. Take his last public speech, for example. Knuckles white from gripping the podium, he'd nearly choked during an eloquent -but passionate - conclusion. His face was red, his jaw tightened. He needed a moment to recollect himself, and the public waited with bated breaths, visibly emotional. Of course, they couldn't tell the outrageous truth: that you were shamelessly kneeling at his feet, pumping and teasing his erection until, at last, he let go all over your face.

"I wanted to see if you'd stumble on your words", you explain afterwards, wiping the sticky liquid off with a damp cloth. "That would've been unpleasant", he responds with a shiver. "It was live on national television."

He does not seem too bothered by the potential risk of being caught. Truly, his nonchalance knows no bounds when it comes to you. Or perhaps it is part of the charm. There's something quite depraved yet tempting about this perpetual contrast.

To return your daring favor, he gently places you onto his desk and spreads your legs, leaving trails of kisses along the inner surface of your thigh. A quick glance down confirms his suspicions: your bare bottom lays on top of confidential, rather important documents he dutifully signed hours ago. How thrilling of a feeling! He already smiles in anticipation, picturing himself as he hands over the folder to the oblivious party. He's not breaking any rules, now, is he? Nowhere in the book of etiquette does it state you mustn't fuck your beloved on top of official papers.

You gaze at the disheveled face underneath you. "One day I'll get you in trouble", you blurt out between whines. "Me? Oh, Darling. You know I always have everything under control." He lifts himself up and gives you a quick, desperate kiss. "Including you."

[backtothefanfiction]

Nicknames

Summary; explaining where you and Felix get your nicknames for each other from.

Warnings: fluff, tragic backstory, neglect, sibling bullying

A/N: the whole point of the Summer at Saltburn shorts is that you can read them in any order and they make sense but this is probably one with the most context as to why reader lives/spends their school holidays at Saltburn.

Summers at Saltburn Masterlist

You can’t remember a single summer you haven’t spent at Saltburn. Even as a kid, before your father ran off to South America (when he came under investigation for embezzling company funds), you had always spent some time at your Godfather’s house; because his kids were the same age as you. You were the youngest of four, a “happy” accident 6 years after your older brother had been born. He was supposed to be the baby of the family, not you and the age difference between you and them (they all had only a year or two between them) made them cruel.

Felix had started to call you Daisy in response to hearing your older brothers and sister refer to you as Oopsy at one of his parents parties.

“Why do you call her Daisy, my darling?” Elspeth had asked her son when she realised he’d started to refer to you exclusively as the small yet resilient dainty flower.

“Because her family call her oopsy, as in oopsy Daisy.” He says through a mouthful of food.

“Oh how horrible. Is that true darling?” She says turning towards you. Elspeth had always treated you as if you were one of her own and the thought of people being so cruel to you made her blood simmer under her collected exterior.

You paused before saying “yes,” unable to look her in the eyes.

“Well,” she said, patting your hand that lay resting on the table between the two of you, “I much prefer Daisy, because you are. You are beautiful and strong and don’t let anyone tell you otherwise.”

——————/////—————

You had taken to calling Felix “Fix” only a few summers back, when he finished secondary school and brought his first school friend home for the summer. It wasn’t until another 3 summers later and Felix brought Oliver home for the summer that he finally asked you why.

You had decided to hide yourself in the field in hope of actually trying to get through one of the books you’d brought with you to read this summer. You actually hated the field. It had a very specific rule, if you were going to lie out in the field, you have to do it naked. It wasn’t the rule itself that made you hate it, but the fact you always seemed to get bit by something hiding in the long grass.

You’d managed to sneak away and remain undetected for all of 30 minutes (which was a new kind of record because searching the whole house for someone could take up to an hour at times) before Felix came stalking across the field towards you.

“Clothes.” You called out from behind your book.

He was silent as he stripped off his polo shirt and shorts before stomping through the long grass towards you. He remained silent as you continued to read but his fidgety fingers and legs told you there was something he wanted to talk about.

“Just say it.” You say, your eyes pausing at the end of a paragraph to make sure you wouldn’t lose your spot, hoping his question would have a quick answer and you could go back to the novel in your hand.

“Why do you call me Fix?” He says.

It’s not a question you were expecting and find yourself dropping your book into your lap to turn and look at him. “I thought it was obvious.” You say, peering over the tops of your sunglasses at him.

“Well apparently it’s not.” He replies.

“It’s because you like to fix people.” You say, lifting your book back up to your eyes, figuring it was answer enough, but alas, Felix protested.

“I don’t like to fix people.” He scoffs and as you look over the top of your book at him, you can see the small scowl forming on his face around his furrowed brow.

“Oh yeah?” You say before you both get distracted by the sound of another pair of feet making their way across the field towards you. You look to see Oliver making his way towards you both and it’s like the god’s have just handed this to you on a plate. “Ahhh look,” you say, seizing the opportunity, “here comes exhibit C.” You say to Felix, before shouting a reminder of “Clothes!” At Oliver.

Felix doesn’t say any more about it that afternoon, but when he corners you that evening before dinner, he has to ask. “Okay, so if Ollie is exhibit C, I’m assuming Michael was exhibit B…” he pauses as he waits for you to give him a small nod of confirmation before he asks, “Who’s exhibit A?”

“Me.” You say, as if it’s obvious. One look at his face tells you that you’ve stunned him into silence. Your face is calm and confident as you make your way into the dining room, leaving him alone in the hallway to ponder his thoughts.

[seeingivy]

donuts

megumi fushiguro x f!reader

content: IMPLIED MANGA SPOILERS, hormonal pregnant reader, dad!megs, gojo being a dad to megumi

an: dad gojo this, dad gojo that. WHAT ABOUT DAD MEGUMI. anyways im sick and I am 90% sure I have covid but alas I spit this out before I study. it's like a reward.

--

recently, megumi has been letting things happen. 

and by recently, he means two years ago, when his little star boy was born. or even at large, five years ago, when he met you, his sun. an fellow sorcerer who he easily fell for, like it was something inevitable. something necessary, involuntary even - like it was the air he breathed or his heart beating. 

and since then he’s been letting things happen. he’s been letting gojo come around - so that he can spend time with ash. so that ash can have a grandfather, not that megumi would ever say that out loud. 

he lets nobara and yuuji spoil him rotten, lets maki teach him self-defense (which is just swatting at this point), and yuuta explain the rules of chess to him for hours even though ash barely has coordinated motor functions. 

he lets things happen. especially when ash asks him, the pouty face that he’s entirely gotten from you pressed on his face. like today, when he feels a little fist tugging on the end of his shirt. 

“yes, ash?” 

“i want donuts.” 

megumi squints, like he’s questioning him. every bit his son, ash has fully inherited the full breadth of megumi’s dna - dark hair, green eyes. but every one of his expressions, those are all all you. 

“ash.” 

“yes?” 

“do you want donuts or does mommy want donuts?” 

ash stands there for a few seconds, deep in thought, before answering. 

“sticky wants donuts!” 

megumi sighs, picking him up and dragging him out of the room with him, to find the culprit of this entire plot - you. that deliberation means that ash was trying to remember what it was you had told him. and truly, only you would use his unborn daughter against him. 

he finds you splayed on the couch, a heating pad pressed into the small of your back, as you talk, directed down to your stomach to tsumiki. or sticky, as ash calls her since he can’t pronounce all the syllables just yet. 

“megs?” 

“yeah?” 

“i thought of a name for her.” 

megumi leans against the counter, half turned away from you, where he watches gojo and ash snuggled up on the couch, ash excitedly explaining the plot of his current favorite movie to gojo. gojo’s all too absorbed, though he does get offended every time ash says that elsa is cooler than him. and even more offended that when gojo calls elsa pretty, ash says that elsa would never like him. 

“well. ash is our little star boy. his name is perfect for him. and you’re my blessing so megumi is perfect for you. but our little girl-” 

you reach forward for his hand, placing it on top of your teeny tiny bump, which just started protruding, as you squeeze his hand. 

“she’s precious. she’s our only girl and, and she’s so gentle already. ash was a little heathen, always kicking and excited in there. but she’s so soft, i already know she’s special. she should have a name that reflects that.” 

megumi reaches up, cupping the side of your face, where tears are now sprouting out of your eyes. one of megumi’s favorite things about you being pregnant, besides the disgusting concoctions you eat because of your cravings, is this. your out of whack hormones that have your lip jutting out, that little whiny, cute pout he fell in love with on your face at all times. 

“what’s the name, sweetheart?” 

“tsumiki.” you whispers. 

you look up at his green eyes, wide and filled with an emotion that you can’t quite discern. and you can feel the immediate panic at the reaction and try to backtrack as fast as you can. surely, he’s simmering with rage under there. 

why would you name your daughter after his dead sister? 

“megs. i-i just thought it would be nice because i never got to meet her and i know she was special to you. i’m not saying she’s replacing her, but i just-” 

megumi puts his hand on your mouth, his finger brushing across your soft lips, as he pushes you into his embrace, hugging so hard he’s sure even the baby, tsumiki, must be feeling it. he holds you there for a while, not saying much, as his hands rub into the small of your back. 

and you wait for it, because you know megumi like the back of your hand. touch first, words second. and right on cue, minutes later, you hear it, the soft whisper on your skin that makes your cheeks burn. 

“my tsumiki would have really loved you, you know that?” 

you look up from the conversation you were having with tsumiki - telling her that she always has to side with you and ash instead of megumi - to find him standing there, glaring at you. 

“hello, love of my life.” you say, tapping the spot on the couch next to you. 

megumi takes the seat, trying to hide the smile on his face, as he gives you a suspicious look. he places a kiss to your temple before placing his hand over your bump, something he does every time he walks into the room. it’s his way of saying hello to her. 

“sweetheart.” 

“yes, megs?” 

“ash is telling me that sticky wants donuts.” 

“stickyyy does want donuts. and ash does too.” you respond, giving him your best smile. 

“you know, if you want something from me, you don’t have to use my son and my unborn child against me to get it.” 

“how dare you bring tsumiki into this. she wants donuts, that’s why i’m craving them. take it up with her.” 

ash crawls into the space between you two, resting his head in your lap and his legs in megumi’s as he reaches forward to tickle his sides, eliciting a screaming laugh from ash who is begging him to stop. you smack megumi’s hands off, running your hands through ash’s dark black locks as he calms down and looking at megumi. you pinch ash’s side a little, giving him a non-discrete wink. 

“daddy. I really want donuts.” 

“oh im sure you do ash. i’ll go get them” megumi responds, swinging his legs off and standing up. 

“can i come?” ash asks, excitedly wrapping his hands around his knees. 

“buddy. it’s nap time. you have to sleep.” 

ash juts his lower lip out, mustering the frowniest face he can, as his little green eyes look up into megumi’s. and of course, he immediately gives in, because he can never say no to his little star boy. 

“fine. get your shoes.” 

ash turns excitedly to you, giving you a grinning smile. 

“did i do good, mama?” 

“perfect, star boy. just like i taught you.” 

ash excitedly runs off as megumi gives you a soul crushing glare, which you pointedly ignore. the two of them shuffle out of the apartment, the smile spreading across your face as you watch megumi swing ash onto his back to close the door. 

--

an hour later, megumi walks into his apartment to find you, yuuji, nobara, and gojo on his couch. the three of you are crouched over the table and he can see that your face is all pink, surely from crying. 

ash runs into the apartment, taking turns giving everyone a big hug, before climbing into gojo’s lap, and reaching up to play with gojo’s hair. megumi sets the box of donuts down and takes the seat next to you, wiping the wetness away on your cheek. 

“hi y/n.” he whispers. 

“h-hi megs.” you whisper back, interlocking your hands with his to squish. 

he smiles as he reaches for the box of donuts, equipping you with the maple bar he knows you’ve been craving, as he watches you nearly inhale it in five seconds. 

“god. you’re like a vacuum.” nobara says, a horrified look on her face. 

“s-not me. miki.” you respond, now pounding through your donut. 

“are you really blaming it on your unborn daughter?” nobara asks. 

“she blames everything on her. yesterday, she made me come all the way out here just to hand her the remote because it was too far away. claimed that the baby really wanted to see me at that second.” megumi deadpans, earning laughs from the group of them. 

“she did.” you respond, defensively. 

megumi leans his arm against the back of where you’re sitting, twisting one of your locks of hair in his fingers. he looks over at the table to find an array of colorful ribbons on the table, which he’s sure is the culprit of your crying since the baby section at target always works you up. 

“what’s that?” he asks. 

“nobara and yuuji gifted us a ribbon set for the baby. we can use it when tsumiki’s hair gets long, do little ponytails in her hair and put cute little ribbons in them.” you respond. 

megumi can feel his throat constricting at the thought of it, the wave of emotions that have been resurfacing lately reaching his cheeks. he gives gojo a look and you a kiss on the cheek, before he stands up and heads to the kitchen, focused on brewing a cup of coffee for himself. 

you frown as you watch him walk away, nobara and yuuji halfheartedly asking him if he’s okay as he waves them off. you turn to gojo, giving him an inquisitive look, as gojo places ash in between nobara and yuuji. 

“is he okay?” you whisper. 

“let me talk to him first.” he responds, giving you a reassuring smile.  you watch gojo run off behind him, the two of them leaning against the counter as they talk in hushed voices. 

“it’s the ribbons isn’t it?” gojo asks, watching ash play rock paper scissors with an overly enthusiastic yuuji from afar. 

megumi doesn’t respond, instead focusing on stirring the spoon through the coffee he freshly brewed. 

of course, it’s the ribbons. 

after gojo took tsumiki and megumi in, megumi made it a point to not ask gojo for much. a facet of his childhood stubbornness, of course. though gojo was more than willing to throw his money in any direction, megumi was in no part receptive to that. except in april, when tsumiki’s birthday came around. 

after watching her stare at ribbons in windows as they passed, complimenting strangers on the train on how pretty ribbons looked in ponytails, megumi made it a point that when he could, he would buy them for her. god forbid, she would never get them for herself. 

so he asked gojo, awkwardly knocked on his door well after bedtime and shyly asked. and of course, gojo never disappoints, buying every color, array, fabric of ribbons for tsumiki to wear in her hair to school now. and he watched her do it a hundred times - the satisfied smile she gave herself in the mirror every time it fell perfectly before walking away. 

and the thought of watching his daughter, being the one putting the ribbons in her hair and getting that little smile on her face, is too much for megumi at the current moment. 

“don’t ask dumb questions, gojo.” he responds. 

he turns around to face the same way as gojo now, watching the four of you have the most intense rock paper scissors battle he’s seen yet. granted, you’re all letting ash win but trying to predict his moves gets more difficult as time goes on. 

“did y/n tell you what we’re naming her?” megumi asks. 

“no.” 

“tsumiki.” he responds, not missing the soft smile on gojo’s face. 

gojo smiles, squeezing megumi’s shoulder. one of the nice things about megumi becoming a father is that he finally understands gojo’s frustrations. of what it feels like to see your kids in pain and not being able to do anything about it. 

“not my idea, by the way. all y/n.”

gojo focuses in on you, on how you look over and give megumi a big smile which he returns, before focusing back on ash. 

“i guess these things always have a way of working themselves out, megumi.” 

“what do you mean?” 

gojo inhales, twisting his sunglasses in his fingers before placing them in his pocket. 

“tsumiki always had a way of reading your mind. every time you and i would argue, she was always the one who soothed you down and not me. i-i was never really good at that. and you lost her but you got y/n. and she does it for you now. ash does too. i-it just worked out megs, that’s all.” 

and megumi looks over - at his sun, his star boy, and soon to be the most precious thing he’s ever had. and he knows that gojo is right. That he’s been letting things happen lately, because that insurmountable heaviness that’s been on his chest for years has finally been lifted. that it’s there, but he can breathe through it now. 

not that he would ever tell gojo. he'll just enjoy a donut with his coffee instead. 

--

taglist: @porridgesblog @k0z3me @kayleegomez @yihona-san06 @bsenpai @sweetenertea @skzismyhome @mykyoon @violetmatcha @rebeccawinters @luna0713hunter @shotenvinsoot @itzmeme @squirrelspoetry

[soleilnewspaper]

Just maybe

Series masterlist

Summary: Sirius, Remus and you take the time to talk things over up in the astronomy tower. You agree to give things a chance. However, you find it difficult to find your place in an already existing relationship. Meanwhile, Regulus tries to come to turn with things.

Pairing: poly!wolfstar x fem!reader

Warnings: early stages of a throuple, light teasing, swearing, mentions of feeling insecure of place in relationship, rifts in friendship, angst with comfort.

Word count: 3.7k

AN: Sooo this may or may not be turning into a series. Organically this was meant to be the last part, but because it’s close to 5k, I split it into two. Alas, we have the third part. Hopefully you enjoy it. Please make sure to like, reblog, comment and follow if you do. Thank you lovelies.

The first time you ever spoke to Sirius Orion Black seams like a lifetime ago. If you had to pinpoint the exact moment, it would have been the summer before your third year began. Regulus invited you over to spend a weekend at their house.

Granted you had seen Sirius in passing multiple times over the years. Not solely at Hogwarts but at the countless times you had been forced to attend a Pureblood High Society event. You’d know both brothers since before you could talk. Yet, a part of you felt you didn’t know them at all.

You would not meet Remus John Lupin until you began your first year at Hogwarts. It seams silly, really, to remember something so vividly.

Platform 9 and 3/4 was not difficult to find with your family urging you along. A kiss on your check from your mother, one which held no real affection was the last thing she gave you before shipping you off. Whilst your father barely offered you any attention. To them beinging Hogwarts was no greater achievement than being born. It meant nothing to them. Therefore, you had to stop yourself from letting them see you cry.

Sure, they weren’t the warmest of families, but they were still yours and all you wanted was some sense that they’d miss you. Of course, you were deprived of that feeling.

You remained strong all the way through your walk to the train. Fear had creeped through your spine every second that passed. Finally, it consumed you when you were alone in an empty compartment. That’s when Remus found you.

He was no more than elven years old, having a similar but very different fear to you about starting Hogwarts. A chocolate bar was offered to you, which you took but then left the compartment to go find your sister. Later three boys found Remus who would unknowingly become the greatest friends he would ever have.

Throughout your years at Hogwarts you had little to no interactions with them both. Yet that didn’t stop you falling in love with them. You had thought you could keep it under wraps.

Sirius thought of you as nothing more than one of his brother’s friends. A Slytherin pureblood. So you let him believe that. You let him begin to hate you. In turn you began to hate him. It was easier this way, that’s what you had told yourself every time your heart threatened to betray you.

Remus was harder to ignore. He saw through the walls you put up. Even if it was only through glances and the occasional smile in the library or halls. He made no effort to befriend you which you had thanked Salazar for almost every day.

Few noticed your affection that you so dearly had for the boys. Your friends for one had teased you on occasion but nothing ever came from it. Pandora would try to get you to open up but her efforts fell short.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t find enjoyment in learning things about them. From a far of course. The way Sirius wore cologne that was so strong it overtook all your senses. Or how sometime around third year he started to get a wet dog fur smell for some odd reason. It didn’t take you long to figure out he had become an animagus. The boys were hardly subtle. Besides Regulus, Pandora and you had joked about going through the process yourselves already. To which you did later on.

The library was Remus’s favourite place and it had secretly become yours because of the few times where he’d offer to get a book off a high shelf for you. You hated how he towered over you. To be fair he towered over everyone.

Through it all, you had thought your feelings were in vain. The word delusional was thrown around more often than once.

Never did you think that Amortentia would be the cause of your feelings finally being revealed. A whole month had passed since that moment and you had hoped and prayed that word hadn’t reached your parents. The thought was irrational in truth, as there was no chance anyone was going to gossip to your parents. Alright, maybe it wasn’t completely irrational. Purebloods did love to talk. If a single person blabbered to their parents you knew it would’t be front paper news or anything. But the thought still scared you nonetheless.

As much as you held affections for the two, you knew your parents would not be pleased. A blood traitor and a half-blood broke. You could practically hear your mother’s voice inside your head when Remus had asked you to be their third.

“Ok.” You managed to chock out, barely.

Whilst Remus was staring at you with his beautiful honey eyes which appeared golden with the sun shining down on him. Sirius seamed still, to still, almost as if he feared if he moved this would all go away. Crashing down on him. He was as scared as you were, you realised. You two were more alike than you had originally thought. Both of you had made each other hate in order to avoid your attraction towards each other. Remus was scared too, you knew that, but he was trying to be calm to keep you both from going haywire. You appreciated that more than he would ever know.

Despite every reason not to, you had said yes. It was if your heart had taken over your mind and you hadn’t even fully comprehend the words before they were serging out of your mouth.

“How will-dose-this work?” You corrected yourself mid sentence, clutching onto the straps of your book bag.

“Er, hmm, maybe we should find somewhere more private to talk about this all.” Remus suggested gently.

“I think I’d like that.” You replied.

“Probably for the best.” Sirius tuned in avoiding eye contact with you both.

“Right, then, guess our dorms are out of the question. Considering…” Remus eyes wondered to your green tie and back to their red ones.

“I know a place.” You smiled turning on your heel with both boys following you.

The ‘place’ had happened to be the astronomy tower. It was your friends and your favourite spot in Hogwarts. The marauders had the Shrieking Shack, the black lake and every secret corridor in Hogwarts. But this, this was your spot.

Yours, Regulus’, Pandora, Barty and Evan’s that is. All of you had chosen spots up here too, evident by the blankets and pillows hidden underneath old equipment in a corner. Which you had put an enchantment on to keep your things safe. One Pandora had made herself, completely original. You and Barty were the ones who brought everything up here. Regulus was the one who suggested it. Evan had just gone with the flow, but you all knew he loved it just as much.

It felt almost wrong to have Sirius and Remus up here. The Astronomy tower was a public place, every person in Hogwarts had access. Yet in your mind it was still your special place, and you felt as if you were betraying your friends by bringing them up here.

You knew you were betraying Regulus in some way. The same way James felt he was betraying Sirius with Regulus. Although that was a topic for another time.

Remus leaned against the railing, and pulled his sandy brown waves of hair out of his face. The sleeves of his sweater over his school shirt tattered from use.

It felt like an eternity had passed since one of you had last spoke. In reality it was as much closer to a few minutes, fifteen if you had to guess.

Sirius’s eyes had never left yours in all that time, until now that is. He remained his distance from you as you did to him. Still trying to wrap your head around all this.

“So, exactly, how does this work?” You started, voice far higher pitched than you’d have liked.

“I suppose it’s like any other relationship, just with three people instead of two.” Remus smiled and you were happy that the smile reached to his eyes, telling you it was genuine.

“S’m not complicated at all.” Sirius joked.

“Definitely not.” You responded shaking your head in faux seriousness.

“We all agree to be in a romantic relationship with all parties consenting.” Remus spoke gently, nodding his head slightly. His elbows leaned on the railing.

“Surely there needs to be rules to this.” You stated completely baffled that you were even allowing yourself to entertain this idea.

“You really know how to take the fun out of things, don’t ye, dollface?” Sirius smirked and you wanted to be annoyed truly but you couldn’t find any reason to be.

“Structure is what makes things work, Black.” You snickered in response but your voice showed no signs of being upset.

“You’d know, would’t ya?”

“Merlin, you’re both bloody children.” Remus sighed softly.

“Sod off, Moons.” Sirius replied and Remus rolled his eyes.

A laugh escaped your lips at their interaction, you loved watching them together. Perphas if this worked out you’d be to do that more often.

“I propose we agree to open and honest communication with each other. If we are to go through with this.” If you were to continue to entertain this idea for yourself, you wanted to at least do it right.

“Well I for one.” Sirius stated, pointing a finger at himself. “Would be chuffed to get to know you outside of a ball or Hogwarts hallway.”

“Chuffed you say?” It was your turn to smirk.

“Contrary to popular belief, I don’t in fact hate you.”

“Good, because I don’t either.” You smiled before stumbling over your words. “Hate you I mean-I don’t hate you either.”

“I know what you meant, love.” You blushed at the use of the pet name.

“I’d also love to get to know you before we jump into anything.” Remus chimed in.

“So, we agree, to take things slow.” You nodded looking to both boys before continuing. “And let things develop naturally.”

Remus’s eyes met yours and you swear you felt safer than ever before. Before you knew, Remus was taking steps towards you. Reaching for your hand.

“Would it be alright if I gave you a hug?” Remus’s voice was full of affection and your heart warmed and the thought.

After receiving consent from you in the form of a head nod, you felt his arms around your torso. Initially, the hug felt awkward but as time passed the two of you found your rhythm and eased into it. Allowing yourself to melt into his chest. The warmth was only further advanced by Sirius joining in. Remus made steps to allow him to join in. You became sandwiched in between the two of them.

You knew this would not he easy in the slightest but you had hope for the future. Maybe, just maybe, this might work.

The ‘honeymoon’ phase of your relationship had passed and it had been weeks of intense emotional intimacy.

No one said polyamory would be easy, nor did anyone bother to tell you how hard it would be.

Being the last person to join a polygamous relationship meant you weren’t apart of the already established rhythm. Which did not account for you. In your mind, you would always be second best. Before you had come along, Remus and Sirius were perfectly happy. You only served as a disruption to their happiness. If not for the Amortentia you wouldn’t even be in this relationship in the first place.

Remus and Sirius had history, their relationship had been years in the making. From the beginning it had been like that. They met before they met you. Their friends were the same people. The sorting hat had sorted both of them into gryffidor, and they just do happened to share a dorm for almost six years now.

Their relationship had taken them from friendship to romance, with trials of pain and suffering within. How could you ever compete with that?

Both of them shared common interests, and despite you trying to find a connection with them it always felt like you were being overshadowed. It wasn’t the boys fault at all. You refused to blame any of this on anyone but you. But it’s not like you could back now. Not when you took such a risk to be in this relationship. Years of pining after them and they had asked you to join their relationship.

You were sure your relationship wouldn’t last much longer, the day would come when they realised their mistake. Yet you made no effort to make any change, because you were far too afraid.

The great hall felt smaller than usual, as if the walls were closing in on you. You tried to shrug the feeling off as your brown babydoll shoes presented against the stone brick floors. A smile found its way to your face when you spotted your two boyfriends sat around a Gryffidor table with their friends.

That’s another thing, their friends. You could tell they were all extremely close. Knowing that before you entered the relationship but it didn’t make it any easier when hanging out with them. Especially since they were always together. Wherever James and Peter were, Sirius and Remus like clockwork. There was no escaping it.

James sat across from Peter dressed in his red and gold Qudditch uniform for today’s game. He was working his ass off to try Qudditch Captain for next year. Lily Evans, beautiful as ever sat next to the boy. Her trio of friends surrounded her; Marlene, Mary and Alice who was joined by her boyfriend Frank.

As per usual, Sirius dressed in his beater gear was situated on the left of James with Peter on the far right. Every so often Remus would offer his own comments to the conversation.

His honey brown eyes met your own and he waved you over. Remus scooted over in order to allow you to sit in between him and Sirius. You offered a smile of gratitude as sat down. Quickly, Remus’s hands found yours and you began playing with his fingers.

Remus looked far from his usual self. Large dark circles had taken up residence under his eyes, which appeared tired. The tone in his voice held a hint of pain if you listened closely enough. This had became a monthly occurrence. Days before he would supposedly fall spontaneously ill or urgently need to visit his ma. Around this time, the boys would also start fessing up excuses for their sudden absences. Lily didn’t seam to be worried by it at all, she knew something you didn’t. Which you had spun to that James and as an extension Remus and Sirius clearly trusted his girlfriend more than your boyfriend’s trusted you.

“How’d ye sleep, dove?” Remus asked gently, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. You only hmm in response.

“You alright, dollface?” Sirius asked turning to face you.

“Just tired is all, studying and all that.” You nodded, hoping it would enough to keep the two boys from being suspicious.

Your plan worked for the most part as Sirius returned to his conversation with James and Peter. Most days, Remus or Sirius would force you to tell them what was going on, but not when it was this close to the full moon. Both of them were far too worried about the upcoming full moon.

It had been years since Remus had felt like this. The vague excuses felt all too familiar to the time before the boys knew of his condition. Besides his parents, Dumbledor, Madam Prompery, and the marauders only Lily knew of his secret. No one had told her, she had just simply figured it out and waited until Remus told her himself.

You on the other hand had not figured it out, which was surprising to him given how observant you were. Granted you knew they were hiding something from you, just not what. Which Remus appreciated as he was dreading the day you learned the truth.

Ever since you had began dating, Remus had feared Sirius darkness would cause your breakup. If not that, then him being a werewolf definitely would. He wasn’t ready to lose you, nor was Sirius, they didn’t think they’d ever be ready for that.

“Hey, dove, you still with us?” Remus asked after James and Sirius had called your name multiple times.

“Hmm, sorry.”

“No need to apologise, love.” Sirius kissed the top of your head. “Jamie was just asking who you’re supporting at the game today.”

“More like we want to know who you’re betraying, your boyfriends or your house.” Marlene leaned in making you feel like all eyes were on you.

“Give her a break, McKinnon.” Sirius responded for you though his voice was full of amusement.

“I guess I’m just going have to wear green and red today.” You smiled earning a laugh from the group.

“That sounds perfect.” Remus wrapped his arm around you pulling you into his side.

“Actually, Y/N.” Lily draw your name out to ensure you were listening before continuing. “The girls and I were wondering if you wanted to sit with us for the game. Usually, Mary, Alice, Remus, and I all sit together while Marls, James, Peter and Sirius play.”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, dove. We know you always sit with the Rosiers.” Remus said in reference to your usual seating arrangement.

Typically you would sit with Pandora and Evan while the three of you watched Barty and Regulus play. When Slytherin wasn’t playing, the five of you would sit together, though Barty never stayed in one spot for long. Although lately, Regulus was avoiding you. Despite how much you missed your friends and idea of sitting with Pandora and Evan you knew sitting with the Gryffidors might score you some points with your boys.

Qudditch the most notorious sport admired by all in the Wizardry World. House pride created a certain level of rivalry among Hogwarts. The game served as their primary theme for rivalry. Especially between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Red and Green decorated the stands surrounding the pitch. The golden hoops were situated at either end of the pitch.

The excitement from students and teachers could hardly be contained. The sea of Gryffidor students made you stick out like a sore thumb with your green scarf. You had opted for a new look to try Incorapte your support for both houses. Slytherin robes adorned your figure, while a red ribbon tied your hair in a half up hairstyle. You wore a gold bracelet from your mother to honour the other house colours. All in support of your boyfriends. A term you were struggling to adjust to.

For most of the game you zoned out struggling to focus on the players. If someone were to ask you who was willing you’d certainly be unable to answer. Your thoughts clouded your mind leaving little room for anything else.

Quidditch was a rough game, that was no secret. Yet, seeing Sirius practically thrown across the field still earned a wince from you. Remus, though tired, assured you everything would be fine. As if you hadn’t watched a game before, you knew the risks but that didn’t stop you from worrying. Especially since you could tell Regulus was off his game and you weren’t there in the stands to cheer him on like usual. No, you were there to support his brother. It made you sick to your stomach just thinking about it. Granted it could all just be in your head.

“Dove?” Remus’s voice instantly brought you back to the present moment.

Once it did you realised that the game was over. Lily had already left her seat to go check on James, with Mary close behind making a beeline for Marlene. Your eyes wondered to the field before you. The Gryffidor team were celebrating their victory already. James ran to Lily as soon as he spotted her in the crowd. You watched as Marlene lips found her girlfriend’s who giggled in response through the kiss. Sirius and Peter were chatting about something, most likely the game from what you could tell from lip reading.

“Imma go find Sirius, you want to come with?” Remus asked gently, though you could hear how tired he was in his voice.

“I’ll come by for the after party, I think I want to go see my friends for a bit. If that’s alright.” You replied rubbing your hands together to combat the cold.

“S’course love.” Remus kissed your forehead before leaving you to go join your shared boyfriend.

A deep sigh escaped your lips as you began to walk to the Slytherin house stands. Anxiety creeping through your body as you did.

Pandora was the first to notice you, welcoming you with a simple smile. Her twin brother standing in his Qudditch gear next to her with his boyfriend. Barty who was not taking their loss well. Leaving Evan to try calm him down from the methodical ledge he had climbed onto.

“Treasure, thank god you have returned.” Junior ran over to you placing his hands on both your sides. You had missed him, you missed all of them.

“Salvar you’re still in one piece.” Barty sighed dramatically causing Evan to pull him off you gently.

“They’re not that bad.” You stated with a low voice causing Barty to scoff.

“Speak for yourself.”

Your friends hadn’t taken well to your new relationship. Barty didn’t like the fact that your boyfriends happened to be Gryffidor’s but he was still happy for you. As long as they didn’t hog you all the time. Evan had remained silent on the matter but you knew he wasn’t completely fond of it, though he wasn’t treating you any differently. You were still one of his closest friends after all. Pandora, on the other hand, had welcomed your relationship with open arms, happy to see you not pinning anymore.

“You guys will do better next time.” Pandora spoke softy looking to both Barty and Evan.

“S’m only if I have my lucky charm.” Barty said dramatically throwing his arm around you. “Can’t believe you sat with the lions.”

“Where is Regulus?” You asked feeling the absence of your friend. The rosier twins exchanged a look with Barty which told you all you needed to know. Regulus did not want to talk to you.

Most days, you would let it slide. Today, was not most days. You were already feeling insecure and out of place in your relationship. Then there was the fact that your boyfriends and their friends were clearly hiding something from you. Therefore, you did not have the capacity to let one of your closest friends avoid you like the plague. You weren’t going to let all your relationships fall apart, and you knew Regulus wouldn’t talk unless provoked.

Which is exactly what lead you to march down to the Quidditch locker rooms. You peered in through to look for your black haired friend.

Sliver eyes that matched your boyfriend’s met yours. Regulus scoffed upon seeing you and tried to retreat.

“Regulus Arcturus Black.” You use of his full name indicted you were not willing to negotiate here.

“Y/N Y/M/N Y/LN.” He responded in the same tone you had used on him.

“You cannot keep avoiding me.”

“I would rather not have this conversation.” Regulus ran a hair through his dark locks avoiding your glaze.

“Too bad, it’s happening.” You held your ground.

Regulus groaned and rubbed his hands roughly across his face a few times before looking at you. You noticed that his eyes had an unfamiliar look to them, he missed you too.

“What possible reason could I have for talking to you.” Regulus cold tone sent shivers down your spine. His body retreated out of the locker room with you hot on his tail. You followed him all the way to the dungeons and into the Slytherin common room.

Students were still out on the pitch so the two of you were alone. The only sound besides your breathing was the roaring fire and sirens from the black lake.

“Let it go, Y/N.” Regulus called out to you as he walked across to allow his body to fall limp on one of the green leather chairs.

“No, I won’t not until you tell me why you refuse to talk to me.”

“Might I kindly request that you abandon this conversation?” Regulus pleaded with you. The way his eyes looked into your soul almost broke your spirt right then and there.

“I cannot oblige your request.” If he was going to use formal cold pureblood tone, then so would you.

“I asked only one thing of you, and you couldn’t grant me that, could you?” Regulus breathed out, standing up from his chair and making steps towards you.

“What are you talking about, Reg?”

Taglist: @maraudersforlife2005 @xlxnq

[sihtricfedaraaahvicius]

Note: requested by @tinumiel! as always; thank you! it's been a pleasure to write this one!

Warnings: 18+! fluff/smut/poor comedy attempt.

pairing: Sihtric x you (f)

summary: You and your husband, Sihtric, desperately needed some alone time. But having a herd of children, which were the result of those pleasant alone times, made it nearly impossible.

wordcount: 2,6k

Masterlist

'It's urgent, darling.'

'My wife,' Sihtric sighed, smiling as he watched you climb on top of him, 'my sweet, beautiful wife.'

You chuckled softly, raking your fingers through your husband's long, wild hair as he laid back on the wooden dinner table, in the middle of the great hall, his breeches down to his knees.

Sihtric was a Lord now, well respected and loved by the people of Dunholm, yet also feared by many brave men. But to you, he was still that sweet, lighthearted yet fierce loyal boy you fell in love with when you were younger. Except Sihtric wasn't a boy anymore, he was a whole man by now. But he never quite lost his boyish behaviour. Even after becoming a father, multiple times, he was still young at heart; playful and… incredibly horny. All the time. And you weren't complaining about that, it just wasn't that easy to find the time to do the deed.

'Get out of that dress,' Sihtric husked, tugging at the front laces, desperately wanting to free your bosom.

'We don't have much time,' you whispered with a chuckle.

You both knew your maids were preparing dinner, and it could be served any moment now.

'I don't need much time,' Sihtric grinned as you guided his fingers, helping to untie your dress, 'I'll be fast, I swear it.'

'And me?' you frowned, knowing your husband could finish in no time, but you couldn't, 'what if there's not enough time for me?'

The last thing you wanted was being left unsatisfied, even though that never happened if Sihtric could help it.

'Then I'll have you for dessert, darling,' Sihtric puckered his lips and blew you a kiss.

You gave him a cheeky smile. Sihtric knew all too well how to make it up to you if he couldn't get you to finish along with him, or before your children interrupted. The way he could make you feel by just using his tongue was incredible, and always enough to make you a moaning, begging mess in no time.

You pulled your skirt up, ready to sink down on your husband's perfect, deliciously sized length, but then a familiar crying sound suddenly seemed to close in, fast. You and Sihtric froze, stared at each other with big eyes and both got up as quickly as you could. You adjusted your skirt as smoothly as possible, while covering Sihtric behind you as he pulled up his breeches. You had only barely fixed up your clothes when the big, wooden doors to the great hall flew open, and your five children ran in.

Your youngest son was crying, your eldest son laughing, your daughter looked annoyed while your two other sons looked frightened. And you immediately knew what happened.

'What did I tell you about telling scary stories?' you gave your oldest a disapproving look as they all neared you.

Then, the maids walked out from the kitchen, and all seemed well again amongst the children as they got seated, ready for dinner. You looked at Sihtric, who shifted uncomfortably in the chair next to you, while his face carried the look of a man who regretted having this many children. It's been weeks since he last had you, and it started to gnaw at him.

After your youngest was born, several years ago, you had both agreed to not have any more kids. In truth, you and Sihtric would have been fine with only three pups, but alas, the gods had blessed you twice more. 

The real problem was that Sihtric simply loved the act that had led up to having a child, but at least you now knew of ways to prevent pregnancy. However, the most effective way lately was simply the way that you and Sihtric couldn't hump at all, because you could hardly ever get that needed alone time. You don't know what it was but, these last few seasons, the children only seem to grow more and more demanding of your time and attention, leaving you and Sihtric deprived of each other's touch and pleasure.

Later that night, when the kids were finally asleep, your husband found you in the bedroom, folding some leftover laundry. You knew you had maids for that task, but you found it relaxing sometimes after a long day.

'How about that dessert?' Sihtric whispered in your ear with his arms snuck around you from behind, and his painful arousal pressing against your buttocks.

You giggled as Sihtric spun you around, taking your face in his hands and kissing your lips eagerly. He knew he didn't really need to ask if you wanted to hump or if he could please you, you had made it clear several times already that you were as desperate as he was, especially after being interrupted earlier that day. But Sihtric simply enjoyed the foreplay. He loved to tease you with his lips and tongue, making you beg for him, before he'd give you his all.

Sihtric smiled at you, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth while he took your hands in his. He pulled you onto the bed with him, where he was quick to wrap his arms around you, and rolled you over onto your back. Sihtric may be retired from battle, but he still used a move or two in the bedroom whenever he could, much to your delight, as you loved how small you felt in his strong arms. He pushed your skirt up, his warm hands slowly moving up your thighs, to your undergarments, which he removed with a smirk on his face. He pushed himself back up to meet your eyes, and gently kissed your lips.

'I love you,' Sihtric whispered, 'just as much as I loved you when we first met.'

'And I love you all the same,' you smiled, 'my love.'

'My life,' he replied, smiling.

You stole another kiss before Sihtric brought his face back between your thighs, and you let your head fall back when you felt him press a soft kiss to your wet folds, followed by a swirl of his tongue.

'Oh, gods,' you breathed, already feeling your soul leave your body.

Your hands moved into his hair as Sihtric held your hips in place, your leg resting over his broad shoulders. You felt the strokes of his tongue become firmer, but never faster. He simply knew how to drive you wild, and that's exactly what he was doing now, before he would finally hump you. You tugged his hair, earning a deep moan from your husband, which sent a pleasant vibration through your body.

'Oh, gods, Sihtric,' you moaned, 'yes-'

'Mommy!' your youngest suddenly called outside your door while he tried to open the heavy piece of wood at the same time, rattling the handle.

'Wha- Shit!' you hissed and perked up.

Sihtric quickly sat up in bed, and as you pushed him away in your panic to cover yourself up as fast as you could, you accidentally pushed him off the bed. Sihtric cursed loudly and rubbed the hip he fell on, while you ran to the door, answering your child's call.

'What is it, boy?' you breathed hard while feeling a little dizzy, and your legs were shaky.

'I… I threw up,' the child mumbled.

You looked back at Sihtric, who sat on the floor with his face in his hands, and you both muttered under your breath.

'Just go and find them,' Sihtric said to your daughter, trying to encourage her, 'it will be fun, I swear it.'

'Fun?' she frowned, 'they're stupid! I don't like to play with them. Why do I have such dumb brothers?'

'Hey!' you gave your seven year old a disapproving look as you walked over to the commotion.

'Sorry,' she mumbled.

'Just, please,' Sihtric said, 'go out and find them?'

Your husband was desperate. The boys were all playing in the woods, near the river, and Sihtric tried to convince the young girl to go outside and play with them too. Sihtric had some plans of his own; playing with you. He just needed to get you alone for that.

'No!' she said, arms crossed, 'they're stupid! They only want to play warrior, and I always have to be the princess who needs to be rescued,' she yelled, 'but I want to be a warrior too!'

Sihtric looked up at you, not knowing what to say anymore, but you smiled proudly at your daughter, giving your husband a light shrug. Sihtric huffed and rolled his eyes, then faced the little warrior princess again.

'Well… just… I-,' Sihtric stammered, then looked back up at you, 'love?' he begged you.

Sihtric clearly needed your help here, to which you rolled your eyes this time.

'Honey,' you sighed and kneeled down next to your daughter, 'why don't you go and pick some flowers for me?' you tried, 'and then we can dry them and make a nice wreath tomorrow?'

'No!' she huffed, 'I want to stay here!'

'Okay,' you smiled at her stubbornness, which she could've inherited from either one of her parents, and you kissed her forehead.

You got up and turned to Sihtric, who was now leaning back against the dinner table, clearly frustrated. Sexually frustrated to be precise, and you walked over, feeling just as agitated as him about the situation.

'Darling,' you spoke softly, resting your hand on his chest while you pushed some loose strands of hair behind his ear, 'I know, my love,' you kissed his cheek, 'I feel the same, but we can't force her out of the house just because we want to… you know.'

'Are you sure?' he whispered, 'I mean, we could force her to work the fields-''

'Sihtric!' you hissed and kicked his shin, 'she's seven! How very dare you?'

'Sorry,' Sihtric mumbled and looked down at his feet, 'I'll just… go and find the boys.'

A few days later your kids had all finally left home, to play outside, near the river again. Even your daughter had joined them, after your eldest said he had seen frogs last time he was there.

'Remember what uncle Finan said about licking frogs!' Sihtric yelled after the children as they ran off.

'Finally,' he sighed, and closed the doors with a loud slam.

He immediately stalked over to you, in the kitchen, where you were talking with one of your maids. Sihtric nearly kicked in the door and cleared his throat when he saw you weren't alone.

'I, eh, excuse me,' he apologised to the maid, 'I need my wife, it's an emergency.'

'Oh, my. Can I help?' the maid loyally asked, concerned.

You fought a grin, knowing the so-called emergency would be taking care of your husband's hard cock. But your poor maid had no idea.

'What? Oh, eh, no,' Sihtric said, surprised and confused by the sudden question, 'it's a… private matter.'

Sihtric held his hand out to you, and you dropped the rag you had in your hands while excusing yourself to your maid.

'It's urgent, darling,' Sihtric stressed, impatiently waving his hand, beckoning you to come with him, now.

You smiled, took his hand, and he was quick to pull you out of the kitchen, through the great hall, up the stairs, and into the bedroom. He closed the heavy wooden door while you quickly closed the curtains, and you both wasted no time loosening your belts. After all the interruptions, Sihtric didn't even want the foreplay today, and you both also didn't even need it. Your core was heated, tightened and you were simply soaked by the time your husband had pulled you up the stairs. And as every day since he last had you, Sihtric was already hard when he only did as much as think of your bare body on top of him. Or underneath him, he didn't have a preference today, he just needed to feel you.

You both dropped your leather belts onto the floor and nearly attacked each other. Lips pressed against each other, your hands in his hair, his hands squeezing your hips, while both your desperate, soft moans filled the air around you. Sihtric picked you up in his strong arms, easily, and he threw you onto the bed. He climbed on top of you, bared his teeth and ran his tongue over them. He was hungry, like a wild beast, and you weren't going to defend yourself. Instead, you wanted to be devoured completely by him.

And just when Sihtric brought his lips back to yours, you heard the maid call from downstairs, and you both froze.

'I know y-you have a private conversation,' she yelled innocently, 'but your children just returned, and… eh… three of them fell in swamp water.'

You groaned and Sihtric cursed once again.

'That's it,' he huffed and jumped out of bed.

Sihtric quickly tied his belt around his waist, keeping his leather tunic in place, and he stormed down the stairs. He picked up your youngest son and your daughter, holding one in each arm, while he angrily ordered those who were soaked with swamp water to follow him. 

You desperately tried to hold your laugh. This was just ridiculous. It was impossible to get your man alone and it was driving you to the brink of insanity, but it seemed that Sihtric had already crossed it, hissing like a mad man at his children, because he desperately needed to hump their mother.

'Where are we going?' your youngest cried in Sihtric's arm.

'Uncle Finan!' Sihtric huffed, walking as fast as he could across town, towards the Irish man.

Once there, he kicked the door with his leather boot before putting the two children back on their feet. And without waiting for Finan to open the door, Sihtric turned on his heels and stormed back home.

'Oi!' Finan shouted after the Dane, 'what's this!?' he looked down at the three drowned rats and the two wide-eyed youngsters in front of him.

'They're yours until nightfall!' Sihtric snarled over his shoulder, and Finan got the hint.

Once back again, Sihtric forcefully opened the doors to the hall and locked eyes with the maid.

'Out,' Sihtric said firmly, 'you have the day off. Close the doors behind you,' he said while sprinting up the stairs.

'Oh. Thank you, lor-' the maid was cut off by the hard slam of your bedroom door.

'Sihtric? Where did you bring the childre-' 

You were cut off by Sihtric's lips, capturing you in an angry, heated kiss. He ripped his belt off again and you quickly took off his tunic, after which Sihtric took off your dress in a rush. You had barely laid eyes on his impressive, muscular body, or he was already on top of you, pulling the furs up to cover the both of you.

'We could take it slow now,' you suggested, smiling as his lips sucked and kissed your neck eagerly.

'I can't,' Sihtric said with a desperate tone, 'and I won't,' he growled.

And before you could even prepare yourself, he already entered you with ease.

A pleased gasp left you both, and you wrapped your arms around his neck. Sihtric leaned in, his body pressed onto yours while propped up on his elbows, his hands in your hair and his face buried in your neck. He started to violently thrust into you, with a head spinning pace, doing exactly what you both needed. Your nails dug into his muscular back, but soon they found their way to the bed's headboard, desperately clinging onto the wooden beams as your husband showed no mercy. The bed rhythmically creaked underneath you and thumped loudly against the wall, in sync with each deep thrust. 

You both ran out of breath fast, and where you usually kissed each other all through your love making, you now just murmured while gazing into each other's half-open eyes.

'Needed this,' Sihtric breathed, 'needed to feel you around me, ah, gods,' he hissed, 'so tight.'

'Gods,' you moaned, 'I've been dreaming of your cock for weeks now,' you confessed with a light chuckle.

'Is this as good as in your dreams?' he husked in your ear, slamming into you even harder and faster.

'Better,' you cried out, nails scratching at the wood your fingers were curled around, 'so good,' you sighed, barely audible over the thumping sound of the bed and the sound of skin slamming against each other with force.

Then Sihtric suddenly pulled back. He sat up and grabbed your ankles, pulling you towards him, then threw your legs over his shoulders. He sheathed back inside you, smoothly, and the way your husband felt, made your cheeks heat up instantly. His groans, his hard thrusts and the intensity in his eyes were enough to push you over your edge within minutes, and Sihtric followed fast. 

He collapsed on top of you. Both breathing hard while being wrapped into each other's arms, recovering from your high as your warm, sweaty bodies were pressed together, underneath the furs. Sihtric peppered your neck and face with kisses while you played with his messy hair. You finally both felt calm again, after the hard, impatient and angry humping that had just occurred. 

And since it was still early in the afternoon, and the children were not to be brought home by Finan until the evening, you'd soon make up for all those times you were interrupted before.

taglist: @clairacassidy @finanmoghra @uunotheangel @hb8301 @bathedinheat @neonhairspray @anaeve @bubblyabs @travelingmypassion @sylasthegrim @bubbles-for-all-of-us @andakth @bel-bottoms @willowbrookesblog @lady-targaryens-world @skyofficialxx @diosademuerte @elle4404 @alexagirlie @sweetxime @solango @gemini-mama @cheyennep3107 @little-diable @jennifer0305 @drwstarkeyy @mrsarnasdelicious @verenahx @urmomsgirlfriend1

[redheadspark]

Fifth Floor Prt. 1

A/N - I wrote this out and it ended up being SO long! Part two will come soon enough, and that HAS the SMUT in it!

Summary - You and Oliver reunited after the Battle of Hogwarts, and old flames are rekindled again

Warnings - Just some fluff and angst in this part, Part Two is found here

"Alright, make a perch right here,"

Madam Promfrey helped place you on one of the old Great Hall benches, at least the one that wasn't destroyed and still standing.  You groaned a bit, your head throbbing from a wound that was inflicted on the top of your forehead, your energy dropping by the minute and your adrenaline was no longer evident.  The rest of the students and teachers around you were in no better shape either, trying to mend their wounds and unwind from all the chaos that happened within the last several hours.  Not to mention the bodies that were being moved and placed in a secluded area on the other side of the Great Hall.   It was heartbreaking to see, both Death Eater and those in the Order.  They were all the same: lifeless.  But it was worse since some of those bodies were of the students.

You both felt lucky and cursed to be alive.

Coming back to your old school Ala Mater, you wanted it to be more of a blissful reunion and not a bitter one.  But you were called back too, thanks to the enchanted Galleon you were given. The world was already turned upside down when You-Know-Who took over the Ministry of Magic, his followers running around all over Europe to capture half-blooded and muggle-borns, the safety of the medical world was now critical.  You even had to go into hiding since you were a half-born witch, your mother being a witch and your father a muggle.  Luckily, they both were out of the country on Holiday over in America visiting family when the Ministry Fell, and you can get in contact with them to stay across the Pacific until further notice.  

With your parents safe and out of harm's way, you were not focusing on yourself and going into hiding at your cramped little flat.  It was a bit hard, thinking that when you would go to sleep you would be awakened by a Death Eater leering over your little bed with a wand at your throat. Plenty of people were disappearing in the night.  You were glad to have escaped a few close calls, seeing Death Eaters going among the streets in packs and causing chaos for no random reason.  

Thankfully, you learned a thing or two when it came to blending in and staying under the radar.  You kept your eyes on your neighbors, especially the older couple that had no one else to turn to.  Thankfully, they were not a target to any Death Eaters or even the Ministry of Magic.  They would go for anyone, and to make sure you were not a min target, you made sure any communication with anyone was going to be minimal.

Yet the one person who you were still talking to since you graduated together, was Oliver Wood. 

Being from the same House and in the same year, you both were thick as thieves throughout your years at Hogwarts and in Gryffindor House.  Ever since you were first years, you and Oliver were sticking together when it came to classes and studying.  It was nice to have another friend in your year since you were on the shy side, though Oliver was a bit cockier and a sports enthusiast.  Especially with Quidditch, which was his obsession and life. 

Speaking of which, you saw him helping bring in some of the bodies of the fallen to the corner of the Great Hall, placing them gently on the ground and covering their bodies with some of the blankets from the Hospital Wing.  He too looked worn from the Battle: his clothes were disheveled and covered in dust, and blood was evident along his jaw and a bit in his hair.  But you were glad he was walking around and alive, in a much better state than others.  It made you smile, seeing him alive and alert.

The older you two got while at school, the deeper your friendship was going, and with the deep friendship, you developed feelings for him came along too.  You had no clue when it happened, whether it was your 4th or 5th year when it shifted, but you started to look at him in a different light.  How he would fly as the Keeper on the quidditch team, you watched him a pinch longer during practice or a heated match against Slytherin.  You two were still friends, going to Hogsmeade on certain weekends to get butterbeer and catch up together, or go out on the ground studying together for Potions or Herbology.  

You were catching feelings, whether you liked it or not.

"Hey!"  You saw him make his way over to you, weaving his way around the other survivors who were walking around and trying to catch their breath.  His eyes were right on you, and you gave him a small smile as he finally sat down next to you.  Before you could say anything, he engulfed you in his arms, you clinging onto him while you both were sighing in relief and happiness that you both were alive.  

You were beyond glad to see him there with all his limbs and functioning, the last time you saw him was still in the wee hours of the morning and he was making his way over to the courtyard with some of the other Quidditch players,  You were taking one at least two Death Eaters that were trying to kill a group of 1st years that were caught in the middle of battle and couldn't hide out in time. Of course, the rest of the night you were thinking about Oliver and if he was okay, if he was going to make it to the morning and survive that whole ordeal.

He did, and you two were reuniting again.

"You okay?" He asked as he pulled away abruptly and scanned your appearance frantically, "Nothin' broken?!"

"I'm okay.  I promise I'm okay," You reassured him as he gave you another hug, this one felt gentler and a pinch intimate.  Just being hugged by Oliver alone made you feel at peace for the first time since you arrived at the school on the threshold of chaos and death.  His hugs always made you feel calm through a storm, peacefulness in a chaotic world, and most of all love in a lonely time.  No matter how many times you two hugged, whether it was a simple hug or something more intense, you felt love. 

You both again pulled away and you took in a long breath, looking away from Oliver for a moment, seeing the Great Hall still trying to heal and digest all that happened.  People were weeping, others were clinging onto each other in hopes of feeling consoled, and the rest were simply sitting, saying nothing with longing gazes on their faces.

"I can't believe that happened," You said in a long exhale, tapping your fingers rapidly on your leg as Oliver was watching you carefully and with a hint of concern, "He almost killed all of us, didn't he?"

You-Know-Who, filled with rage and power that it seemed that you were losing hope in winning this war.  All of the horror stories you knew about him and his followers were in effect that night. You knew it would take some time for you to heal, you didn't know if it'd take months or years, but you weren't the only one.  Everyone in that room would need to heal.

"Aye, but I'm glad we're all alive," Oliver murmured next to you, sitting back a bit on the bench, "Thanks to Harry,"

You gave a small smile at the mention of the Boy Who Lived, remembering him as merely a fellow Gryffindor and someone who flew with Oliver on the Quidditch Team.  You've ran into him a few times, being one of the plenty who knew of his story before he even did.  But he was kind, a bit brash at times but kind and willing to stand up to the bullies.  Harry Potter was a true Gryffindor, and for him to lead the battle against the very Dark Lord who tried to kill him as a baby, he was beyond brave.

"Thanks to Harry," You repeated as Oliver shifted in his spot.  He gave you a serious look.

"Where are your folks?" He asked, you rolling your shoulders.

"In America, visiting my Aunt and Grandfather," You replied, "They left two weeks before the Ministry fell, and I told them not to come back,"

"Good," He replied in relief.  Oliver met your parents a few times, the first time was at Platform 9 and 3/4 when you were going back to Hogwarts for your second year.  Your mum and dad thought of Oliver as a great fiend inviting him to come to your home over the summer once or two to both use your backyard to train for quidditch together and to simply talk quidditch with your dad.  

"Your folks?" You asked him with a raised brow.

"Fine.  They…um.. they went into hiding as I did, but they're safe with some old colleagues of theirs," Oliver explained to you, you smiling in return.

"I've always liked your mum and dad," You stated, "They've always been so kind to me, especially your mum.  And your dad is just like you,"

"Or I'm just like my da?" Oliver asked as you smiled and shrugged.

"Don't know, but I'm not complaining," You joked half-heartedly, hearing him laugh in return.  Such an odd thing to do at a time like this, almost dying from Voldemort, almost seeing the school that you grew up and loved become dust.  Yet you two were laughing as if you'd never parted after graduation.  Some people were looking over at you in confusion, wondering why two young adults covered in dust and blood were laughing like teenagers all over again.  

But it felt good to laugh, it felt good to let that emotion come through like a wave that was crashing on the shore.  You remembered laughing like this with him when you two would study together in the Common Room, or chat side by side during dinner in the very Great Hall you two were at.  You missed this, being with your old best friend and not having a care or worry in the world.

For the briefest of moments, you forgot about the war and how you almost died.  

After the laughing died down and you two were quiet again, Oliver looked down at his attire and grimaced a bit, "I don't know how much dust I have on my blazer,"

"Me neither," You agreed, looking at your coat and noticing all that it took on with the battles.  Some wear and tear along your sleeves, your shirt ripped at the bottom from a Dead Eater nearly ripping it off of you while you were trying to escape, blood splattered along your pants and boots that you threw on, and even your hair was a bit matted and barely staying together from the braid it was in over your shoulder.

The last thing you wanted to do was move from the bench you were on since it felt like you could fall over in exhaustion, but you also wanted to scrub down all the filth from your skin.  Your mind didn't know what you wanted to do, and thinking of traveling back to your small cramped apartment seemed too stressful.  

"I need to wash this off," You grumbled, flicking off some dry blood that was stuck on your thumb.

"And I doubt there's anything here in the castle to rinse off in," Oliver added in agreement, then pausing with a tense look on his face.  You looked back at him with a questioning gaze.  You knew that look on his face, plenty of times in the past when he had a bright idea, whether it was during Quidditch practice or knowing what to do in his homework.

"What?" You asked him, seeing him then gaze at you while pointing to the Great Hall doors that were barely propped open and showing the battered hallway.

"You think the fifth floor is still intact?"  He asked you, having you cock your head at him.

"The fifth floor?" 

Oliver got the door open, with a gentle nudge of his shoulder as he had to give it a shove.  After you followed him through the small opening of the door, your eyes went wide from the site in front of you.  Of course, with some debris everywhere and a few cracks in the wall and windows, most of the room itself was mildly damaged from the battle.  Perhaps there was some enchantment in this room, with all the minor damages that were evident all around the room.  You had no clue, you've only heard of this place through some gossip with some friends.

The Prefect Bathroom. 

A massive tub that took up half of the room itself was built into the ground, aligned with cool step stones and marble that wrapped around and melted into the stone walls.  Stain glass windows that were floor to ceiling were on the other side of the tub, different shades of greens and blues illuminating the room from the sun that was already rising over the Scotland mountains and countryside near Hogwarts.  

Along another wall, there were facets, dozens upon dozens of bronzed facets perched over the tub ready for use.  A shelf that was splintered had some white towels that were tossed to the floor, along with some vials that looked to have stored oils and perhaps scented substances for use in baths.

Shocked was not a word you would use in your everyday vocabulary, but this time you were going to have to use it.

"Merlin's Beard," You gasped as Oliver walked over to where the facets were, you were scanning the whole room as Oliver was checking the damage of the tub.  The surprise and shock of this massive room were still reeling in your mind, you've never seen any kind of bathroom like this in your life.  The ones in your old dorm back in Gryffindor Tower had no tubs, simply shower stalls that were decent enough.  But this tub was the size of your entire bathroom at your home.  

"How do you know about this bathroom?" You asked him as he was kneeling next to the facets and scanning the tub.

"Quidditch Captains get access along with the Prefects and Head Boys and Girls," He explained, "You don't know how many times I would hide out here and soak in this tub after a match,"

"No wonder you fled after the games rather quickly," You hummed as you were staring at the gorgeous stained glass over the tub, the image of a Mermaid from the Black Lake was along the glass and looked hauntingly beautiful.  

"Let's test it out, shall we?" Oliver asked, you looking over at him with a hint of shock as he was turning a few of the facets.  Some gurgles were heard, and you thought that the facets were going to be broken and water wouldn't come out. Sure enough, a huge flow of water was coming through at least 5 facets.  Oliver chuckled turning a few more facets with ease.

"What if someone sees us in here?" You questioned in worry, looking at the door that led out of the room thinking someone was going to walk in on you and Oliver in the Prefect's Bathroom.  Of course, you two were grown adults, not longer students at Hogwarts, but it would still be a bit of a shocker if a passerby happened to stumble on the pair of you alone together.  You were no prude, but you would hate to be caught in an awkward situation.  

Oliver gave you a raised brow and a glare, "You think anyone's gonna wander up here after what just happened here at school?  To the Prefect Bathroom of all places?!" 

You glared, "You know what I mean,"

"Aye I do, and you're a bit paranoid," He replied, you huffing and pointing to the running water from the enchanted faucets.

"How is it still working?" You asked in shock as you watched the water flow into the massive tub.  Each facet was giving out a different color in the water but once it was in the tub, it was all clear again.  

"Don't know, but I'm not goin' to complain," Oliver huffed as he sighed and stood back up.  Walking over to you, Oliver cleared his throat and gestured to the tub that was being filled up with hot water, "I'll just…umm…let you go first."

You blushed and fiddled with your fingers.  Now hitting another wall In this situation, taking turns in a bath with your old best friend.  It was already risky enough for you to be venturing amongst the school grinds, right after a massive battle that almost took out the entire castle.  

But another risk was being there with Oliver, the very Quidditch Captain that you both adored as a friend and secretly had a crush on.  No matter if you two were adults, covered in blood and dirt, still running on adrenaline and stress from nearly a handful of times within a few hours, exhausted in both fatigue and mental pain, you were getting those butterflies in your stomach again.  Just like you were teenagers, sitting together during a meal or in a study session, those fleeting emotions seemed to be coming back on overdrive.

Perhaps you were thankful he was alive and with you, finding you in a massive crowd of survivors and making sure you were okay and safe.  Or maybe it was the fact he reached out to you hours before everything happened, telling you Harry was calling all of the ex-Quidditch players to help defend Hogwarts.  You were both barely in contact with each other since you graduated, and seeing him at your doorstep with that glint in his eye and the look of panic and pain on his face.

But you would follow him anywhere, even if it meant into battle.  Placing your life on the line for the sake of helping your old friends defend the school you grew to love. Oliver had a way about him, the way of being able to give you a sense of security and vulnerability that no one else could ever do.  He knew your deepest secrets but held them to his heart with no sign of exposing them to others, his own unique joy and humor made you laugh more than anyone else ever could.  

There was no denial for you, you did love Oliver.

"Thank you," You replied, seeing him give you a small smile.  He was about to walk past you, leaving you in the Prefect Bathroom when you suddenly grabbed his arm.  Oliver stopped, looking at you as if something was wrong.  But you were giving him a kind smile, still holding his arm gently within your fingers and remaining close enough to almost feel the heat radiating off his skin.  It made you wonder if he could hear your heartbeat going up a bit faster.

"You okay?" He asked, his voice was low and subtle, almost sounding gravely, and yet warmth was mixed in his tone.  

"I'm just….I'm glad we're both okay and alive," You said in a stammer, Oliver saying nothing but staring down at you, "Mostly, I'm glad you're okay,"

Oliver gulped, giving you a short nod, "I'm glad you're here too,"

"And I know we haven't talked in a long time since we left Hogwarts, but you were my best friend.  All of the best memories I have ever had within these walls were because of you.  I never had a chance to tell you, and I wanted to tell you now," You explained with no hesitation in your voice.  It was selling out of you before you could stop yourself or dial it down. 

"I'm just glad we're both alive and that I told you how I felt.  It would have killed me if I didn't," You said calmly, then being a bit bold by leaning up a bit on your tiptoes and giving him a gentle kiss on his cheek.  It was brief, the fog that would roll over the Black Lake outside of the castle on an early Autumn morning.  But the feeling alone made you feel experience sparks under your skin, that teenage sensation was back tenfold as you were about to turn back around and grab one of the towels that seemed decent to use.  

Oliver turned you back around with a gentle grab on your arm, kissing you soundly on the lips.

You've been kissed before, yet not like this.  This felt like a new level of a kiss, his chapped lips along your own that almost shuttered from the sensation.  Other kisses felt clumsy or out of place, maybe failed attempts to make you feel swooned.  You hated those kisses, they seemed uneasy and stumbled.  But not this.

This felt like the sensation of flying on your broom for the first time, drinking a butterbeer on a cold winter day in Hogsmeade, and the feeling of snow touching your cheeks during the first snowfall.  Kissing your best friend, the one friend who was your true north and compass in the bad times, the one friend who knew how to make you laugh and feel overjoyed, and the one friend who was your number one fan and supporter in any choice you made.  

He pulled away slightly, you still in a daze from that simple touch of the lips as you slowly opened your eyes and watched him gaze at you.  With him being slightly taller than you, his brown orbs were pouring into yours as he was almost wishing to read your mind.  

But you knew that the same broke inside of you.

"Merlin," You whispered, leaning back up and kissing him back.

You both melted into one another, hands grasping each other's clothes as Oliver kissed you over and over as if he was both starving and yet taking his time with you.  You were letting him, his fingers brushing along your neck as he cradled your face close to kiss you soundly, his body pressing against you with the right amount of pressure that your head was spinning.  Everything about Oliver was consuming you, your fingers were clinging onto his blazer in fear that he was going to drift away from you. He wouldn't, you knew that deep down that he wouldn't leave you like this.  

One of his arms moved from your neck to lower your body, wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you in tightly as his kisses evolved into deeper and more sensual kisses.  It felt like a drug was kicking in with no sign of slowing down, maybe the knowledge of almost losing each other hours before when the castle was in flames and people were dying around you was still igniting in you.  

Before you both knew it, hands were roaming as you were leaning into him more and more. His hands moved to strip off your jacket letting it fall to the ground in a heap as your tongue moved out to trace his lower lip.  A small sharp inhale was heard from him, his fingers were dancing along your worn down shirt and his other set of fingers were digging into your hair while your hands attempting to push off his blazer.  Oliver grinned against our lips, moving his hands away for his blue blazer stained in blood and grime was now on the ground. 

"What are we doin'?" He asked against your lips as you kissed his hotly and smiled. 

"What we should have been doing for some time," You murmured back as his arms were around you again.  

"Aye, we should have done this a long time ago," He confessed as he pulled away again to look down at you again. You saw how plump his lips were, his dilated his brown eyes looked, and even the flush on his skin and cheeks.  This was a unique look on Oliver, who always seemed to have his cool and calm demeanor even the most stressful of times.  But now he looked undone, stripped open and bare, and it was all from kissing you.

"I think this is crazy," you admitted with a soft smile, though the smile on Oliver's face never left as he shook his head.  

"We just survived a war at the hands of Voldemort, and you think snoggin' in the prefect's bathroom is crazy?" He asked you in a breath, you staring deep into his eyes and seeing him reach into his back pocket where his wand was snug in.  With a twist of his wrist, you heard the door snapping shut and locking automatically.

"What's crazy, is that I never said a word about how I felt about you all those years we were friends," He explained with a gulp, his eyes never leaving yours as he went on, "I was afraid to say anythin', but not anymore.  I wanna be with ya, only ya, and after what we went through last night, I'm not lettin' ya go,"

You would have melted to the floor from hearing those words from Oliver, and you knew then and there you would never be able to let him go either.

Reaching down to retrieve your wand that was on the floor with your blazer, not losing your gaze on Oliver who was still giving you an alluring gaze, you licked your lips and gripped your wand tightly.  Finally, you turned around and aimed at the door.  With a flick of the wrist, magic shot out of your wand and landed against the door and the wall, giving a shimmering light.

“What did ya do?” Oliver asked in a tentative tone, thought you grinned and looked back at him with a soft grin.

“Imperturbable Charm” You answered, seeing him  grin widely as you dropped your wand onto your jacket that was on the floor.

“Bloody Hell,”

To Be Continued....

Tagged - @a-lumos-in-the-nox

[the-writer-arrived]

Lonely Birthdays No More

Synopsis: in alhaitham's opinion, birthdays are like any other days, ordinary. on this year's february 11th, alhaitham starts to think it's not so bad to treat one's birthday as a special date once in a while.

Character: alhaitham.

Warnings: gender neutral!reader; established relationship; fluff with no angst *gasps*, down bad haitham is the best haitham.

A/N: something sweet for my first hubby, love you my pookie <3

A/N 2: i'm sorry i promise this is the last time i repost this fic idk why it's been giving me such a headache 😭

Birthday celebrations were something Alhaitham never quite understood the appeal of. Why would you do all that work just to commemorate the day you were born? And why make only that day special? Wouldn't it be better if people used that excitement for something productive and avoid bringing trouble to others?

But alas, not everyone (or anyone in that matter) would share this particular opinion.

It's not a secret that Alhaitham isn't the most social butterfly in all of Sumeru. Even when he was a child, he didn't have any interest in partaking in some meaningless conversations with people he had no desire to interact with, going as far as prefering to stay at home with his grandmother and be self-taught.

Knowing that, it's not surprising that he has never celebrated his birthday with anyone other than his only family. And after his grandmother passed away, the date of his birth became just another ordinary one for him.

Others may consider it sad, but Alhaitham isn't bothered by it nor does he want other people's pity. He'd much rather pass the day in peace and quiet than having to deal with strangers saying happy birthday the whole day and disrupting his work. After all, that was one of his grandmother's wishes: for him to live a peaceful life.

This year, however, he will learn that having a less peaceful day isn't as bad as he believed.

----------

Alhaitham stands at the entrance of his living room, staring at his roommate with a deadpan look. It's far too early in the morning (in the grumpy scribe's opinion) for him to deal with the blond man's sudden desire to redecorate the place.

"What's the meaning of this mess this time, Kaveh?"

"Huh? Oh, you're up already?" The architect steps down the ladder after noticing the other man's presence, leaving to Mehrak to hang the other tip of the decoration on the wall.

"As you can see, I'm putting up the decorations for the party."

"Party? What party?" Alhaitham frowns and takes a proper look around the room. Many colorful adornments fill the space, creating a festive look that seems quite out of place when compared to the rest of the house, the big 'Happy Birthday Alhaitham' on the wall giving the answer he was looking for.

Oh, right. Today is february 11th, his birthday. Is that what all this is for? Kaveh was never one to do such a thing on years prior. No matter, he should put a stop to this before it gets more troublesome.

"Kaveh, I don't--"

"Before you say that you don't want it, I should inform you that this wasn't my idea, but rather of a certain someone's lover. Surely you're not heartless enough to ignore their wish to throw you a party? One which they have been planning for weeks, mind you."

Alhaitham purses his lips, whatever it is that he was about to say being thrown out of the window. He should have known, your behavior the last few days had been quite suspicious, always hurrying from one place to another, meeting many people. You had told him it was for a project, so he didn't think much of it.

He attempts to hide the smile that wishes to bloom in his lips with a sigh. Kaveh, on the other hand, doesn't make any effort to surpress his grin, finding amusing that his roommate folds so easily at the mere mention of you.

Of course, the scribe won't let him have his fun for too long.

"What I meant to say was that I don't think the decoration is nice enough for my tastes." He walks to one of the shelves to get a rather... peculiar ornament (one of many that his roommate tried to convince him to not buy it). "I believe this would be the final touch it needs."

"Are you kidding me?! No way! This thing would throw off the whole aesthetic!"

"Oh? Surely you're not heartless enough to ignore my wishes today of all days?"

This time, it is Kaveh's turn to fall silent. Using his own words against him, how childish can he be?!

With a glare, the architect snatches the ugly statue from Alhaitham's hand while the other leaves to the kitchen with a satisfied expression.

----------

For a house that has been considered a tad too big for two people to live in, now it seems a bit too small to host a total of seven people. Fortunately, the guests are too preoccupied having fun to be bothered by it.

Cyno has managed to snag Kaveh to his team for a two vs two round of Genius Invocation TCG, the opponent pair being Tighnari and Collei. Meanwhile, Dehya and Nilou watch the intense match from the sidelines, cheering and chatting about various things.

As for Alhaitham, he's much too busy thinking about the one person that hasn't arrived to the party yet. You're the one who planned all this, there's no way you have forgotten about it.

After noticing the scribe's restlessness (something he would deny, despite his shaky leg being a dead giveaway), Nilou told him that you were finishing something important, so that must be what it is keeping you. Still, it has been some time and even the dancer has begun worrying about your whereabouts. You're not one to be this late to an event you've been so excited about.

With one last glance to the clock, Alhaitham raises from his seat, determined to find you.

"I'll be right back."

Ignoring the offers of his friends to accompany him on his search, he goes straight to the door of his house... Only to find you about to open it with your own copy of his key, a nicely wrapped box in your other arm.

You two stare at each other for a few seconds, before he huffs a complaint.

"You're late." He crosses his arms to show you he's upset, but it only makes him look adorable in your eyes, his frown being more of a pout.

"Sorry to keep you waiting." You grin apologetically.

Alhaitham can only sigh in defeat as he brings you inside, this whole situation being a reminder of the strong influence you have over him.

The party was full of life, laughther and good food the whole time.

He received many gifts, even from the Dendro Archon herself, who apologized in her letter for not being able to attend the party but still wished to show her appreciation for all that he does for the Akademiya and Sumeru as a whole.

But, if he had to pick a favorite, it would be yours: a pair of Aranara statues, carved in wood, that resemble you and him. You explained to him that the reason of your tardiness was that you were finish painting them and, considering they would be a gift for him, you had to make it perfect, which made you lose track of time. Despite your efforts, however, the statues ended up looking a bit weird, much to your dismay. Alhaitham didn't mind at all, arguing that the imperfections were what made them perfect in his eyes, not to mention that it's a gift from you, his beloved, there should have been no doubt he would like them.

As the festivities come to an end and the last guest leave with one last 'happy birthday' to him, the scribe can finally relax. As punishment for arriving late, he said you are to stay over tonight, something you were more than happy to agree with.

He finds you in the kitchen, putting away the leftover food in the fridge and finishing cleaning up. He tried to convince you to leave the mess for tomorrow, but of course you wouldn't budge, claiming that it'd be worse for the tomorrow you. Besides, everyone helped cleaning before they left, so there wasn't much to do anyway.

Alhaitham wraps his arms around you from behind and your hand goes straight to his hair, caressing his silver locks so gently that almost makes the man purr. He only allows himself to be more touchy when it's just the two of you and there's no risk of Kaveh accidentaly interrupt the moment since he has already retired for the night, feeling quite tired from waking up quite early to decorate the house.

"Did you have fun today?" You ask, enjoying the warmth of your beloved hugging you.

"I'd give a 8 out of 10, a good score for your first time being a party organizer."

"Well, that was higher than I expected. Still, what made you deduct two points?"

He takes a moment to hum in thought.

"The location is one thing. While it was nice being in the comfort of my own house, having to deal with the clean up at the end was a bit of pain. But that only takes half a point."

"Then, what was so bad that it took me a whole point and a half?" You drop the hand from his hair to turn around to look at him with a frown.

"The fact that you made me worried."

After you arrived, Nilou and Dehya pulled you to the side while Alhaitham was distracted speaking with Collei, to tell you about how your lover had been anxious for your whereabouts. (At least, that's what they thought, not noticing the man glancing at your little group from time to time, having a good guess of what they were telling you).

"I'm sorry, Haitham..."

"It's fine, what matters is that you're okay." He takes one of your hands, observing the small cuts on the skin due to you making the wood carvings, before giving it a kiss. "Thanks for party, I had fun."

He speaks quietly, as if sharing a secret for your ears only. The warmth of his kiss and words travel all the way to your heart, feeling glad that you could make your boyfriend happy on his birthday. Even so, that doesn't stop your playful side to show up.

"I've heard that earnest thanks should be given thrice, so--hmph?!"

He interrupts your cheeky words with his lips, thightening his arms around as he feel you melt under his touch.

Today, Alhaitham has learned that birthday parties were noisy, messy and quite troublesome, but also quite fun. He thinks he won't mind having another next year, the year following that and so on, as long as he has the people he cares about by his side.

thanks for reading <3 likes, reblogs and comments are very appreciated <3

heart divider made by @/cafekitsune

pink alhatham banner (fluff) made by @/the-writer-arrived aka yours truly ;)

[newtthetranswriter]

Could I request Gojo x male reader where the reader is a ballet dancer who is a part of the Zenin clan but ran away when they were in high school and Gojo doesn't see him again till adulthood and Gojo falls in love all over again and reader never stopped being in love and they reconnect

Dancing with Curses

Word Count: 3822

Paring: Satoru Gojo x male Zenin Reader

Warning: talks of Gojo’s past arc, the Zenin clan is trash, Canon typical violence, possibly ooc Gojo, let me know if I missed anything

A/n: Hello again, I truly did enjoy writing all of your requests. They gave me just enough information to feel free with creating the story but still having a base to work off of. Anyway I hope you enjoy and as always remember to hydrate or diedrate.

    Y/n Zenin may have been lucky enough to be born with a decent cursed technique but the fact that he had made it clear he was not interested in following the tradition of being a sorcerer, made it so he was looked down upon by the whole clan. For years he tried to fight the system but as the time for high school approached, Y/n was forced to make a choice. He decided that he would follow his family's wishes for just long enough to get enough money to escape the world he grew up in. For him going to Jujutsu High was just a stepping stone to reach his goal, he never expected to add another item to the list of things his family hated him for.

   As previously mentioned, Y/n just wanted to save enough money to escape from the world of Jujutsu, he never planned to catch the eyes of Satoru Gojo. Apparently Gojo had been enamored with how graceful Y/n was with his technique and how he was able to mix Jujutsu with ballet seamlessly.  Y/n on the other hand had felt Gojo’s eyes on him, and he would be lying if he said he didn’t see the beauty in the user of the six eyes. But Y/n knew that if he let himself fall or grow attached he would be further trapped in this dark world. So Y/n put his emotions in a box and distanced himself.

   Finally after almost three years of dealing with the chaos and horrors of the world Y/n left. Having one of his underclassmen die in the line of duty, followed by one of his classmates turning against them, Y/n was done. He couldn’t handle the thought of spending anymore time watching people die for no reason, or seeing people who were once all about protecting turning to murder. So he gathered his belongings and left in the middle of the night. Leaving the world of Jujutsu behind, almost completely. 

   Being an outcast from a young age Y/n knew the signs of the Zenins pushing kids out of the inner circle. And even if it was still early and there were a few years left for her technique to develop, Y/n had a gut feeling Maki would need someone on her side. So before he completely wrote off the Zenin clan, he wrote Maki a letter. The girl was barely 4 but was able to understand the simple contents of the letter. Y/n had simply explained that he was always there for her if she needed anything and asked her to not share the existence of the letter with anyone. He also left his new phone number, telling her to call if she ever needed anything. After leaving the letter with his young cousin he left.

   When it became clear to the Zenin clan as a whole that Y/n had up and ran away, they decided to act like he never existed. Writing his disappearance off as a blessing to not have to deal with him ever again. While most of the Jujutsu world moved on from the sudden loss, Satoru was unable to follow their lead. He spent the better part of five years looking for him. Unfortunately for him, Y/n did not want to be found and managed to hide himself well. Satoru eventually gave up.

  Fast forward eleven years, and Y/n had put very little thought into the world he left behind. He took his freedom and did what he wanted. He became a professional dancer, letting his worries wash away. It was a relief to not think about death and curses everyday. But alas all good things come to an end at some point.

  After a particularly tiring performance Y/n felt his phone buzz in his pocket. Seeing that the id indicated it was the one person he kept in touch with, he answered. “Hey, Maki what’s up? Is everything ok?” He asked, concerned. Even though Maki was only four when she got the letter from Y/n she respected his wishes and managed to keep it secret all these years. The reason Y/n became concerned was that when Maki got a phone they agreed she would only call if something was seriously wrong, otherwise she would text monthly just to check in.

  The calm teen’s response nearly startled the man. “I know you said you would never return to Jujutsu High, but we need all the help we can get.” Maki explained, there was a hint of worry in her voice and Y/n knew that something was seriously wrong if Maki was asking him to come back. Before Y/n could ask for more information, Maki continued. “Some crazy guy declared war on Jujutsu Society and even though we have Gojo on our side everyone seems worried. There has been an influx of Sorcerers on campus and even Gojo seems concerned. I normally wouldn’t ask for you to come back but if Gojo is worried wouldn’t that mean having all hands on deck be the best course of action.” 

  Y/n took a moment to think about what Maki had told him. If someone declared war on Jujutsu Society then no big deal, curse users are stupid. But if said person had Gojo worried about it then there was only one person who could be leading this fight. Knowing that fact led Y/n to make a choice he never thought he would. “If it’s bad enough for Gojo to be worried, then having as many sorcerers as possible is a good idea. I’ll be there in the morning.” He knew he would likely regret going back to his old life but he knew the reality, it’s almost impossible to leave the Jujutsu world and stay gone.

   “Thank you, I know you hate all of this but I’m sure you’ll be able to leave again when everything is done.” With that Y/n said a quick goodbye and hung up the phone. If he was really going to be returning to Jujutsu Society, he knew there was a very slim chance of ever getting out again, that is if he even managed to survive the impending war. 

   The next day as he promised Maki, he made his way to Tokyo. When he reached the path leading to the hidden highschool, he paused. Debating actually entering the barrier that protected the school and alerting everyone of his presence or just turning around and telling Maki he couldn’t help out. But before he could chicken out and run away again, he felt the presence of familiar cursed energy. Looking up at the stairs that would seal his fate of being part of this fight stood the one person he hoped he could avoid, Satoru Gojo.

   It was clear that Gojo had changed since Y/n last saw him, having swapped out his usual dark sunglasses for white badges wrapped around his eyes, his hair was also longer and stood up with makeshift blindfold in place. Seeing the white haired male sent feelings Y/n had long suppressed bubbling to the surface.

   It wasn’t any better for the Strongest Sorcerer. He couldn’t believe his eyes, even if he knew that his cursed technique is never wrong, his heart had a hard time believing that the Y/n Zenin was standing in front of him. Gojo had so many questions, like why did he run away, why didn’t he say anything, and most of all why is he back. Snapping out of his thoughts, Gojo moved down the stairs quickly, taking two at a time with ease thanks to his long legs.

  “What are you doing here?” It came out harsher than he intended, but with recent events and the bubbling of long forgotten feelings, Gojo couldn’t help it.

  Shaking his head to clear the fog, Y/n took in the tall man in front of him. “Well hello to you, Gojo. For the record I’m only here because Maki said that someone declared war and it had even you worried. And knowing you only one person could make you worried about a silly threat. So here I am, isn’t better to have extra hands on bored than facing Geto with fewer people.” Y/n answered, accidentally letting it slip that Maki had been able to contact him all this time. “Now that I’m here, would you mind telling me what exactly Geto is planning.”

   Ignoring the request for information about the situation, Gojo focused more on the mention of his student. “Since when has Maki been able to contact you, she was like four when you left. Why would she call you for help?” When Y/n had left after the worry of what happened had passed, Gojo had been angry, and now that anger was showing itself all over again.

   “Yes Gojo, Maki was four when I left. But you forget I was also raised in the hell scape that is the Zenin house. I also know what it looks like when those douchebags start making a child an outcast. When I left I gave her my phone number and told her if she needed me she could call. And you would never guess what happened. She saw that her teacher was worried over some psychopath declaring war on the people she cares about and called someone she trusts to ask for help. I’m not here for anyone but her.” Y/n clarified, and it was clear from his tone that he truly meant it. He was only coming back to the world of curses to help his young cousin. Not giving Gojo a chance to respond, Y/n brushed past him heading up the steps into the base of Jujutsu Sorcerers.

    Gojo was left stunned by his own stupidity. The only guy he can remember ever truly having feelings for was right in front of him, and instead of expressing his joy of seeing him again he stuck his foot in his mouth. Watching after Y/n as he left, Gojo began thinking of ways to apologize for what just happened and ways to hopefully convince Y/n to stay even after they beat Geto.

   On December 24th, Y/n opted to stay at Jujutsu High with Maki and Yuta as a line of defense just in case. Afterall he wasn’t technically a member of Jujutsu Society so it’s not like the Higher ups could actually tell him what to do. He also had a bad feeling about them sending everyone except a couple Assistant supervisors to the front lines. If Geto had asked Yuta to join his cause wouldn’t that mean he had an interest in the boy. So when the veil was lowered over the school, Y/n jumped into action.

    He knew he didn’t stand much chance against a special grade like Geto, but he couldn’t just let the lunatic kill a young sorcerer. Y/n’s technique had only earned him the status of Grade 1 back in highschool, but that was eleven years ago and this would be his first fight since he left. He could only hope he still had the strength to hold off the Curse User long enough for help to arrive. 

   His own fight with Geto didn’t last long before a new contender entered the courtyard where the two adults were exchanging blows. Having also noticed the veil, Maki opted to join the fight. So now it was two on one, the two Zenin outcasts vs. the special grade Suguru Geto. The cousins were able to hold off Geto for about thirty minutes before Geto got the upper hand. The younger of the two had been severely injured, having likely multiple broken bones and severe cuts leaving her half conscious in a pool of her own blood. The older of the two was not much better off. Y/n had sustained a few broken ribs, one of which he wouldn’t be surprised to find out if it was digging into his lung as it was becoming difficult to breathe. But he was still able to stand and so he was still able to fight.

  There was a brief moment that allowed Y/n to catch his breath, and that was when Geto paused, announcing a hole was made in the barrier. He seemed confident enough that whoever it was would be too slow and he could beat Y/n and take Yuta before they arrived. Y/n took in a few deep breaths, sensing the cursed energy of two people approaching fast. Seeing that Geto wasn’t reacting to it, Y/n waited until the wall exploded next to the long haired man before striking again.

  Unfortunately even with the added help of Panda and Toge, they were still unable to beat him. When they turned their backs on Geto to check on Maki, the curse user took the chance to take out the oldest of the group. Striking Y/n in the back with curse, Geto managed to force the broken rib that was already threatening to puncture one of his lungs right through said lung. The force of the blow knocked what little air Y/n had in his chest out, and now with the loss of function in one of his lungs it was nearly impossible for Y/n to catch his breath. The two first years who were still able to fight tried to fight back but were unsuccessful.

  Y/n fought to stay awake and even tried to warn Yuta who had appeared on the scene to run away, but alas with barely any oxygen getting into his body, he could barely make a sound. He was fading in and out of consciousness and couldn’t help but wish for Shoko to be there to heal his wounds. Slowly suffocating was really fucking painfull. The last thing he remembered before blacking out completely was Yuta using Rika to move the four injured sorcerers to safety and applying his own reversed curse technique to them. As the world faded Y/n silently thanked Gojo for not executing the young special grade.

   Unlike the other three who woke up soon after Yuta beat Geto, Y/n was still unconscious three days later. While Yuta had been able to heal the majority of the injuries y/n had sustained, it seemed Shoko was needed for some of the more intense ones. When word got to Gojo that Y/n was injured and that even after Shoko had been able to treat his wounds was still asleep, Gojo was worried. He spent as much time as he could spare sitting by his bed in the infirmary. 

   Gojo spent the time thinking. Debating on how to thank Y/n for risking his life for the young sorcerers and trying to decide if it would be a good time to tell him he loved him. Yeah Gojo had officially decided that he loved Y/n Zenin, it wasn’t just a school crush. Having spent eleven years apart and suddenly seeing him again reminded him of everything he loved about Y/n. Even though he admitted to himself that he loved him, he couldn’t help but think that maybe telling him would be a curse to the man who clearly just wanted to escape the world of Jujutsu. 

   Caught up in his own reminiscing, he failed to notice that Y/n had started to wake up. He only noticed when he heard the quiet groan from next to him. Looking over he could see Y/n squinting his eyes at the light from the open window, and trying to take in his surroundings while still laying flat on the bed. Gojo quickly stood up, closing the blinds to darken the room, and then moved to help Y/n sit up. “Here let me help you sit up.” He said, causing Y/n to look at him bewildered. “I know I was rude the last time we talked but I was worried when they said you still didn’t wake up after both Yuta and Shoko used rct on you.” Gojo explained quickly.

   Taking a moment to process the words said to him, Y/n looked around the room. Seeing a glass of water on the bed side table, he quickly took a drink before speaking. “How long have I been asleep? And what happened to the kids, is everyone okay?” He wasn’t that worried about himself, his main concern was whether or not the young sorcerers had made it out of the battle alive.

   “Everyone is fine. Well, everyone on our side, that is, the kids are all okay. They’re taking a few days to relax before getting back to training. As for how long you were asleep for, well it's been about three days.” Gojo informed him. “And before you ask, Geto won’t be a problem anymore.” His tone of voice shifted from glad to something lingering with sadness.

  Picking up on the change of tone Y/n understood what he was implying. “I’m sorry for your loss, I know you were really close before everything. But it’s great to hear that the kids are okay.” He said truthfully. Taking a moment to think of what to say next, one thing popped into his mind and he couldn’t shake it. “Why are you here? Shouldn’t you have some important mission that only the Strongest can deal with?” Y/n asked, trying to switch the subject.

   Having spent three days thinking over and planning for how to speak his mind didn’t prepare him for what he was going to say.  “Um, I just wanted to express my thanks for you risking your life to protect the first years. If you hadn’t decided to show up or stay behind while we all went to the front line, who knows what would have happened to those four. I mean sure Panda probably would have been ok, but the others might not have been so lucky.” Gojo thanked him. 

   Y/n nodded along, but that didn’t fully answer his question. Gojo was there when he woke up, if he just wanted to say thank you then he could have done it after someone else told him Y/n was awake. “I think they would have been just fine. Maki is a strong fighter and Toge has a great understanding of his technique. And Yuta has a surprisingly great understanding of cursed energy for someone who just learned about curses a few months ago. But the strength of your students aside, Why are you here? And don’t say it’s just to say thank you. You were here when I woke up, if you just wanted to thank me then you could have gone about your day and then thanked me when someone told you I was awake.” He confronted the white haired male.

   Gojo scratched the back of his head trying to decide if he should say he just happened to stop by to check on him right before he woke, or if he should tell Y/n the truth. Realizing he had been quiet for too long and that if he did lie Shoko would probably rat him out either way, he came to the conclusion that honesty was the best policy. “Well, I’ve kinda been here the whole time. Like I said before I was really worried when Shoko told me you hadn’t woken up after being treated. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” He explained. Watching as Y/n’s face shifted from confusion to shock, Gojo couldn’t stop himself from talking more. “And I know this is probably a terrible time to bring this up, especially with how I reacted when you showed up the other day. But I really care about you Y/n. When you left back in highschool, I thought something terrible happened to you and I searched for you for years. I eventually figured that if you went through the struggle of leaving with out a trace there was probably a reason and so I stopped looking. But the worry turned to hurt and anger and I guess seeing you suddenly and hearing that you only came back for Maki’s sake, made that anger bubble up again. I understand you left for a reason and you probably want to leave as soon as possible after all this life is hell for anyone. But I do want you to know that you mean a lot to me.” This was the first time Y/n had seen or heard of Gojo letting his emotions out in such a clear way. Gojo was always calm and only really expressed deep emotions when fighting or teaching, so having him say all of that really shocked Y/n.

   Y/n took a few moments to process everything Gojo said, before making the second life changing decision of the month. “While I left because this life is taxing and full of hardship, I don’t know if I can abandon it again. I wouldn’t mind sticking around and helping teach the next generation of sorcerers.” Y/n explained. “This isn’t a permanent situation though and I will have some requirements that need to be accepted before I commit to it. After all, I can't leave the ones I care about to fight alone if I’m able to lend a helping hand.” he finished making his intentions to at least stick around for a short while clear.

   Even though Gojo was happy to hear that Y/n was going to stick around, he was confused by the wording of the last sentence. “Wait you said ‘the ones’  you care about, I thought you came back for Maki.” He couldn’t help but ask.

   Y/n just laughed before responding. “You’re right I did come back for Maki. But there are more people here that I care about than just her. Now I may have just woken up from a three day nap, but I’m exhausted so if you don’t mind I’m going back to sleep.” With that Y/n layed back down rolling to face away from the tall sorcerer.

   “Who else do you care about here? I’m confused.” Gojo really wanted answers.

   Y/n responded even though he was half asleep. “That’s for me to know and for you to figure out Satoru.” And with that Gojo was left as the only one awake in the room.

   He sat in silence processing what he had been told. And when he registered that y/n had not called him Gojo but used his first name for the first time, he couldn’t hide his smile. Deciding to let Y/n rest in peace he left to inform everyone about Y/n’s decision to consider staying at Jujutsu high for a while.

[crookedkryptonitebeliever]

DAMNN!!!! It makes me sad how Yves probably doesn’t celebrate his birthday because it probably reminds him of how old he has become 😭 But after rereading the birthday ask, I wanna do something for his birthday, like I’d honestly try to throw a little something for him, even if it’s just the two of us. How would he react to that? But then again I doubt he would tell us his birth date and would NEVER tell us the year so celebrating his birthday would probably be next to impossible. But dang I’d feel bad like being with this man a whole year and realizing like Omg I never got Yves anything for his birthday ☹️

Yves may not like to be reminded of his age, but he does love spending time with you. He knew that you would want to do something nice for him on his birthday. In that case, he would drop hints about his very special day.

Valentines Day; would be the day he chose to represent the day he was born. You would perhaps accidentally take a peep at his passport, Identity card or any seemingly valid documents that contained his alleged birthdate.

14th February, and he will be 34 this year.

He loves roses, jewellery, makeup, handbags, heels, heart-shaped novelty gifts and all things romantic. Yves is sure you would find an easier time to obtain them during heartbreak season.

You might be insecure because everything that's at least touching his standards is out of your budget. So you have to rely on creativity.

Of course, nothing is a surprise for Yves. He knows your works in progress, the trips to the photo printing store, the paper basket filled with rejected, crumpled love poem drafts, hours upon hours of perusing through the internet for cute birthday date ideas... your effort in preparing for it was already more than enough to please him.

Yves definitely loves seeing you try for him. To push past your worries and do it anyway, even if you are shaking out of fear from the thought of him being disappointed.

He would subliminally send you a message that it's not material items Yves is after; it's your company. Gifts and romantic gestures are nice bonuses, but not necessary.

But you're so adamant about doing something nice for his special day, and that warms his heart. So he lets you have your fun and healthy stresses on organizing a nice little dinner for him. Although, he will step in if you're pressuring yourself to the point of deterioration.

Comes the day of 'his' birthday, it's 12 in the morning. He's still awake in his office, typing away at his computer. Yves would appreciate it very much if you greeted him with a hug and a kiss, lightly scolding you for staying up so late but thanking you for your attentiveness nonetheless. If you live separately, you can give him a call or a text wishing him a happy birthday, and he will answer or reply immediately without fail. With some nagging that you should have adequate sleep at night. He doesn't hide the delight in his voice or face, though.

If you've been paying attention, the ideal birthday present for him is... you. Yves would very much rather pamper you instead as if it's celebrating yours, cooking up all your favorite meals, bringing you to your favorite places... but alas, it is your turn to spoil him with whatever you have in store.

You spent the last few days practicing how to cook something that you think is 'fancy' and 'expensive'. You emptied your pockets for that week but it was all worth it, you mastered making a dish that you thought Yves would like, you think. A cake you attempted to make from scratch, is obviously not made by a professional, but the love and care are evident.

Assuming you live with him, a perfect window of opportunity presents itself when Yves is suddenly extremely busy with work, so he has to hide himself in the office. You hurried to set up everything, the presents, the dining table, the candles, the food, and the plates. It was such a coincidence, that he's done as soon as you put your final touches on your dishes.

He would appear pleasantly surprised, tilting his head to the side and gracefully concealing the widest smile on his face with his manicured fingers. You can see his eyes glimmering out of joy, which in turn makes you feel proud and giddy as well. For the presentation alone, Yves is already sure to reward you handsomely.

You pulled the chair out for him, and he thanked you as Yves elegantly took a seat.

You sat down opposite of him, face and neck already covered in lipstick prints before even picking up the sleek champagne bottle. He found it adorable, you can barely afford the lower-end ones, yet you still try. He was monitoring your spending behavior and noticed that you're saving excessively for something, he is happy to know that you used it to get something luxurious for him.

His gaze never left yours as he clinked glasses with you.

Yves made sure to praise you for all your hard work, and he is exceptionally giggly today. Not because he thinks your efforts are funny, but because it's quite difficult to contain his admiration and fondness for you. And it is also because of the sight of you being decorated in his lipstick. He genuinely thinks your cooking is delicious, perhaps a tad bit too oily, salty, sweet, or burnt for his taste, or he simply didn't like that particular food. You wouldn't know, because it seems like Yves ate something that was meant for the gods. It was exquisite because it was made by you with loving intent.

Perhaps you're shy, a bit skittish, and blushing. You somehow thought writing romantic poems and reading them out loud for him to hear would be something he would be keen on. And you were absolutely correct. You could cringe at your own voice and work as much as you want, but Yves is cherishing it deeply.

He knows you would stutter when he sensually caressed you on your thigh, he did it anyway to see such a cute reaction from you. Yves would hold onto every word, listening intently and staring at you with such devotion.

Please don't take his peals of laughter at the end as mockery, it was purely out of glee and love for you, the ticklish feeling in his chest needed to escape somehow. Yves would pull you in a tight, but comforting hug, showering you with so much praise and affection, that you would think you're the world's greatest poet.

He would sit on his chair, crossing his legs, and adoringly watched you scramble to show him all your gifts. Predictably, they're all Valentine's Day-themed, rouge and hearts all around, his favorite.

You truly knew how to make him feel like a queen. Bouquets of fragrant roses, chocolates, even handmade crafts that you slaved over for him... they're all priceless and worth much more than anything in the world. He was slow and careful in unwrapping them, Yves everything, down to the strip of tape you used to keep the wrapping paper together, as intact as possible as they're going to be preserved in his compendium.

You gifted him an expensive lipstick in a shade that he would like. Such a wonderfully attentive partner you are, how could you have possibly known that he loves all things lip pigments? He must simply try it, so he did on the spot, using you as his little canvas.

Oh, he loves that hue on you. Yves made sure to test it out a couple more times, on your forehead, cheek, and lips. Yves would twist it back into its container, cap it, and keep it away before finally permitting you to leave his lap.

There's more, you scampered off into the kitchen. Leaving him alone to deal with his high for a while.

You emerged again with a crooked cake. The piping is uneven, it says "Hapy BDay Yves!!!" in crude frosting- you didn't think the spacing through, and hence it was horribly off-centered, and a singular, lit candle is stuck in the eye of the cake. It was perfection.

You watched him quizzingly as his emerald eyes began tearing up, droplets rolling down his cheek as he smiled wide. He daintily patted the tears away with his trembling fingertips, Yves was speechless and incapacitated by his extreme urge to squeeze you, his cuteness and aggression reaching debilitating levels.

He had to expel all that extra energy somehow, so he resorted to crying out of joy. Yves knew what you were about to do, he knew all that was going to happen, but he could never account for the overwhelm he would feel when you do something special like this. It's embarrassing to Yves, but he pushed that feeling aside and thought about how grateful he is to have you instead.

It would take him a couple minutes to compose himself, a handful of deep breaths before he is confident that he wouldn't bite you like a rabid dog.

You invited him to make a wish, and he did so silently, clasping his hands together and closing his eyes. Yves was so earnest and fervent that you would think he was saying a sincere prayer. Whatever he wished for, you notice there is that desperation in him for it to come true.

He cuts it with you, your back pressing against his front as he holds both your hands in his. Guiding the blade through the baked goods.

He asked if you and he could share a slice, and Yves would spoon-feed you and himself using the same utensils. It's much more intimate and romantic that way. And, maybe it would invoke some nostalgia too.

Yves is saving the best parts for you, be it the cherries, chocolate barks, sprinkles, strawberries... it's yours.

You wonder if he is having a fever because the hand that is holding your chin is unusually warm and his face is pink. He watched you with half-lidded eyes which you mistook as sleepiness and not lovesickness.

You beguiled him enough to earn yourself a night of heavenly sex. It's definitely not your first time, so you knew how fucking difficult it is to convince Yves to do that with you. And you knew how damn good he is in the bedroom.

Naturally, you're shaking in excitement as Yves gives you a nod as he sensually caresses you under your chin. Opportunities like this are rare, of course, you're frothing at the mouth thinking about what awaits you later.

He told you to unwind in the bedroom first while he cleans up. Yves didn't have to say a word more before you took off running.

Yves laughed to himself as he gathered the empty dishes, thinking about the vase he would be putting the fresh roses in.

This may not be everyone's ideal way of spending their birthday; ending the day by doing chores. But that's the way Yves likes it and he wouldn't change his mind for the world, he's stubborn in his ways and loves predictability. Taking care of you is his greatest joy in life. Which isn't all that surprising, Yves is a Taurus, after all.

[presidenthades]

Alicent and Daemon.. That's a whole pack of worms

How would they even get along enough to make 4 kids 😭

Daemon swearing up and down to despise Otto and Alicent and then marrying Alicent and fathering and targ bro's and Helaena...

It actually would be really interesting how Daemon would treat the targ bro's and Hel,where he isn't insulting them every two minutes 💀

So here’s how I would make a “Daemon and Alicent get married and have the Targbros + Helaena” fic happen.

They probably get married around the same time Alicent married in canon, maybe because Viserys realized it might not be a great idea to secretly see a 15yo girl in his rooms…and then he foists responsibility onto someone else, i.e. his brother. Instead of banishing Daemon from court, Viserys annuls the Rhea Royce marriage and tells him to marry Alicent to show harmony and friendship with Otto. Viserys marries Laena instead.

Otto is horrified. Daemon is also horrified, until he realizes Otto hates it, and then Daemon decides he’s going to use this marriage to make Otto miserable by winning Alicent over from her father. Alicent might disapprove of some of Daemon’s activities, but we see in the Episode 1 tourney that she does seem to find him attractive at least. She is probably secretly relieved not to become the queen, although marrying Daemon would also cause a lot of friction with Rhaenyra.

I doubt Daemon would be an especially good husband to Alicent, but he would keep up appearances to fuck with Otto. Alicent is probably content to maintain appearances while mostly being left alone to care for her kids. She is less stressed about her kids being murdered, because they are very far down the line of succession, and few people are willing to mess with Daemon’s children.

In my AU, I tweaked the kids’ ages so Aegon, Helaena, and Aemond are only one year apart from each other. Baby #1 is conceived quickly during the honeymoon period. Daemon names him Aegon after his deceased younger brother and the Conqueror. Daemon is happy he has a healthy son so quickly, so this might prolong the honeymoon period.

Baby #2 shows up. It’s a girl, so Daemon lets Alicent name her, as long as the name sounds Targaryen. Baby #3 is another boy, and Daemon just rearranges one letter in his name ➡️ Aemond. So creative.

Rhaenyra gives birth to Jace around the same time Aemond is born, and a few moons later Laena gives birth to Baela and Rhaena. Laena survives and the twins are healthy, but complications render Laena unable to conceive again. Viserys still has no sons, so this cements Rhaenyra’s position as heir. Velaryons are disappointed but ultimately OK with this because Laenor is married to her and already has one legitimate child, so their blood is getting on the throne.

It does not escape Daemon and Otto’s notice that the only Targaryen males of the next generation are Daemon and Alicent’s kids. When Rhaenyra’s next kid is another girl, our favorite good-son and good-father duo reluctantly cooperate to scheme how to get their blood on the throne. The obvious solution is betrothing Aegon and Jace. Alas, Viserys is still in his “keep Daemon away from the throne” era and strongly discourages Rhaenyra and the Velaryons from accepting.

Daemon and Otto are still determined to marry Aegon and Jace for the Iron Throne, and also Aemond and Luce for Driftmark. Then they realize they should have at least one more boy to marry to Baela. By this point, Alicent is no longer starry-eyed about her marriage, but she’s carved out a space for herself at court, and her kids are all safe and healthy. She’s OK with having another child (it helps that Daemon is not a rotting corpse), and so Baby #4 is born. Daemon swaps one letter in his own name ➡️ Daeron.

Rhaenyra gives birth to Joff a few moons later. She has no interest in having any more children, since childbirth is so risky. Her three daughters are the most desirable marriage prospects ever, so there’s a lot of competition, and Viserys is not in favor of the Targbros. Luckily for them, their dad and grandpa 10000% prepared to be their wingmen 😎.

Ooh I almost forgot to answer how Daemon would treat his kids!

He and Aegon bond over a love of partying and roaming around Flea Bottom. Daemon is better than Viserys at keeping Aegon in shape, because Daemon is actually paying attention to his kids and ensuring they are competitive suitors for Rhaenyra’s daughters. Aegon is more inclined to listen to a dad who takes him out to gambling dens and ale houses for father-son time.

Aemond tries very hard to be like his father, which pleases Daemon. They do a lot of sparring together and talk about Valyrian history. Since Laena is still alive, Aemond can’t have Vhagar, but Daemon might take him on a secret outing to Dragonstone so he can claim Vermithor. Even though they are similar on a surface level, father and son probably still argue a lot because their pride gets in the way.

Daeron is very happy and friendly. Daemon has no idea where he gets it from. Daeron is the baby, so Daemon indulges him like everyone else does, but he really starts paying attention after Daeron is old enough to be whacked around the training yard/thrown onto dragonback.

Daemon isn’t sure what to do with Helaena at first, but unlike Viserys, he realizes that her prophecies aren’t just nonsense. Daemon has a healthy dose of skepticism (“dreams didn’t make us conquerors, dragons did”), but he would be intrigued by the idea of his daughter being a dragon dreamer. Considering Helaena’s abilities and the fact she’s Dreamfyre’s rider, Daemon might decide it’s better not to marry her away and just keep her at home. This makes Alicent happy.

[rapha-reads]

Things from Interview With The Vampire s02e04 (ep11) I noticed:

[Edit 1: Actually this turned into a live-commenting, sorry]

[Edit 2: Keep in mind, I haven't read the books, so all of these observations are born from the show itself and the few (lots of) spoilers and narrative plot points I've gleaned here and there.]

Both Claudia and Louis are so bored with the coven. Or maybe bored isn't the word, but... Done? Frustrated and annoyed? Restless? Louis because he never intended to join and so cares not all for all their internal affairs. Claudia because she thought she'd finally have the life she wanted and instead is being forced to relive the tragedy of her life day after day.

And Armand rejoices in drawing them further apart, scolding and punishing Claudia while begging scraps from Louis.

And he's soooo jealous. The face he makes when Louis starts explaining what Dreamstat feels like is priceless.

Also, personal theory: either Louis is indeed suffering psychotic breaks after psychotic breaks, or just manifesting his own version of Lestat because he doesn't want to let go. Or Lestat can astral project and has been stalking Louis from the moment they left New Orleans.

The coven is tearing itself apart. And normally I'd add "and Armand isn't even seeing it/taking it seriously yet" but given that the whole of them are unreliable narrators and that Armand is a shady ass bitch whose only agenda is himself, I'd say he's well aware and purposefully making it worse.

I can't make sense of Santiago yet, though. Is he jealous? Ambitious? Is he fond of Claudia? Does he hate her? He definitely hates Louis, but is it just jealousy or real antipathy? Oh, but Louis is still my precious special kitten and that speech about Paris, art and modernity, as a contemporary culture student, made me vibrate a little out of my chair, and Santiago clowning him makes me want to claw his face. We get it, you hate him and you think he's pretentious, now can you shut up and let us talk a bit more about the art scene in Paris post-WW2 and why Louis is absolutely right, Picasso isn't all that impressive in the end? Thanks. Bacon tho, Bacon is interesting. My contemporary art teacher last year was excruciatingly boring, but he had a boner for both Louise Bourgeois and Bacon and we spent several hours on them (and not nearly enough about Mapplethorne, alas). Anyway. I feel ya, Lou. I have been called pretentious too for simply getting excited about art, culture and folkore.

I'm rooting for Louis and Claudia to kill them all off and run away to Italy. I know it won't happen, but one can dream, eh.

Is Armand messing up with both Daniel by getting into his mind and Louis by switching the photos? Interesting. Two people who have a shitton of issues stuck with a sadistic, insecure and bitter control freak who's been pulling the threads since way before anyone realises. And Louis is so lost in his trauma and grief and anger, he trusts Armand and doesn't see what's happening and been happening to him for 70 years, while Daniel is just a sad, sick old man who thinks he knows his life and what his future entails. Armand is definitely having fun.

"Je n'aime pas fenêtre quand fermée" is NOT FRENCH, MY EARS. I will be picky, I don't care for artistic licence. Correct sentence would be "je n'aime pas les fenêtres quand elles sont fermées". Admittedly, if it goes into a song, you'd have to respect the length of the line and all those musical measures. But still. You could shorten the numbers of syllables by dropping the language register: "j'aime pas les f'nêtres quand elles sont fermées" ; from 12 or 13 to 9, the original line being 8 or 9. Depending on whether you say "je-n'ai-me-pas" or "je-n'aim-pas" and "fe-nê-tres" or "fe-nêtres". Anyway. I'm sure the writers had those discussions (I hope; hey, AMC, hire me, I'm a good proofreader and I speak 5 languages).

Me: oh, Louis isn't even bothering now, he's directly talking to... Wait, is Lestat eating that photo? If it's Dreamstat: the hell is going on in your head, Louis? If it's Astral Lestat: that is certainly a choice, my friend.

"Barely Balthasar", LMAO, Lestat I fucking love you. Poor Balthasar always gets forgotten in adaptations. Nope, we're not here to talk R&J, moving on.

Armand: "this is my tragic backstory. Feel pity for me. I'm the good guy." Me: yeaaah, how much of this is actually real? And, uh, no, like Lestat said: ha! You're a storyteller and a conman, Armand. You weave your story to pluck at the heart's threads of your audience, modulating it to their sensibilities to better serve your own interests and your plans. What are those interests, these plans? Hell if I know. But I absolutely do not trust you at all.

HANDS OFF CLAUDIA OR I'LL BITE

"The wilderness that is our daughter" have I said lately how much I love Lestat.

Oh, hello, the Loustat scene on the bench just broke my heart, which is funny if you consider that that's just Louis breaking up with himself. Also, do we consider Louis knew about the initials in the pocket, and Dreamstat is saying what Louis wants him to say, or is it another unreliable narrator Louis, or is it Lestat himself...?

Aw, going from the Loumand scene on the bench to "toxic gay divorce with body count" sure is a tonal shift. Lmao. You're losing your touch, Armand. Louis' awakening. Daniel's awakening... San Francisco next, that will be fun. Excited to see how they've changed that part, knowing it's the red thread of the first book.

...

Oooh, that got long. Apologies. I really need to sit and read those books.

[writingmeraki]

fools of love I

READ PART TWO HERE !

summary : being jealous of the stars in your eyes whenever you smiled because he knew they were caused by anyone but him or so he thought.

genre : fluff, slight angst, humour (??)

pairing : cho guesung x gn!reader, idiots to lovers.

warnings : misunderstandings, slight hurt, jealousy,whipped asf idiots, best friend/platonic soulmate kangin, guesung is dumb (&hot) but reader is dumber, cursing, not entirely proofread.

author's note : does the summary make sense?? idk y'all let me know? atp I am thinking of this man 25/8 but really i just had to put this idea out of my pending wips. hope you liked it and be sure to read the little note at the end :)

word count : 3.6k

"Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!"

Your hand held out a makeshift rock as a smug grin was making its way into your face because you knew rock was always the superior.

Or so you thought.

Grinning, your eyes quickly shifted to the other hand that held out the complete opposite of yours, and the smile on your face was immediately slapped off as you groaned out loudly.

"HA! I WIN!"

Kangin proudly exclaimed while your eyes narrowed at him in annoyance as he snatched the bag of cheap yet fulfilling snacks of your other hand.

Scoffing and muttering cusses at the 5"8 man, you retorted

"B-BUT THIS IS cheating!"

You told as you crossed your arms and slightly jutted out your bottom lip forming a small pout as you chose an alternative route of rather using the emotional bargain method, one that always worked from your end as no one was able to resist your sorrow glint eyes. Fake sorrow.

Cute. He thought but then again it wasn't just anybody in front of you, no.

This was Lee Kangin , your very best friend from your childhood. You being born in Incheon and also being a fan of football since a young age even to the extent of you also being able to have a talent in playing the game, it was as if the stars were lined for the both of you to become practically soulmates.

Though you both always laughed at the way you became friends because him accidentally knocking you out cold one day when practicing for football and you woke up wanting to actually murder the person who caused you to be on bed rest for a few days meaning no football as well meant as though someone had actually just murdered you. (tiny flashback ahead)

But despite the rough first impression the boy made, he'd come in the same day later after you gained your consciousness to apologize with a bouquet of beautifully assorted flowers and a handful of snacks, which to his credit, was suggested by his mother.

It wasn't like he didn't feel sorry, he was sorry, guilty in fact but what could the poor 9 year old do other than bring his sincerest apologies to you.

And when he did, you couldn't help but instantly want to forgive him as you saw the solemn look on his face with the guilt practically being overwhelming in his eyes, heck you think you may have even spotted tears, as he took in the bandage wrapped around your little head.

To his utmost surprise, you chuckled as his head was down and he looked up to see you with a small grin on your face

"I guess I could forgive you."

He looked taken aback, even in his little 9 year old mind he thought it was hard to earn anyone's consideration for forgiveness let alone forgiveness itself.

"But you have to promise me one thing."

Curiously he softly spoke out with a small fearful tone as though he was scared you'd be asking for a huge favor one he wouldn't be able to fulfil

"W-what?"

With a toothy grin you finally said

"Be my football practice buddy from now on."

You held out your hand as though it was some sort of business agreement you were proposing and in a way it was at least in your childhood nature.

As he took in the words he couldn't help but smile widely as his eyes narrowed and his full cheeks bunched up and he exclaimed

"Deal!"

And alas that was the start of your great friendship with Lee Kangin.

Raising a brow at you, he knew the tactics you were playing and despite having fallen into that very trap many times, he also knew better than to give in at this time, and as he held the bag in his hand ready to dive into its content any minute, he retorted mockingly while rolling his eyes

"You were the one who suggested we settle this over 가위 (kai) 바위 (bai) 보 (bo) and you lost so quit being a sore loser and the emotional puppy eyes won't work either."

Instantly the small pout and the adorable begging eyes vanished as you narrowed your eyes at him in the offense.

Finally after what felt like he had been digging around for ages he found the bottle of strawberry milk he had been wanting to drink and smiled at it as if it was his greatest achievement till date even though he was an upcoming football player.

As he dismissed the other snacks to the side to be eaten later, a mischievous thought occurred to you and before you could think about it more, you said fuck it and just did what your ultimately hungry stomach and slightly bitter heart thought of.

You grabbed the bag of snacks and made a dash for it, you knew you stood no chance in terms of stamina or even in speed but you knew one thing and that was when you do something that catches the other off guard, no matter how lacking you were in terms of skills compared to them, you immediately gained the upperhand at least for the first few minutes.

Kangin's eyes widened and his jaw dropped almost comically as he saw you make a run for it and he too made a split second decision,

"HEY! THAT'S MINE, WHAT THE FUCK?!"

Screaming loudly, his deep voice boomed across the wide field that the other players had been practicing at, they ended up turning their heads at the colorful choice of words including the captain's as well.

He dropped the strawberry milk bottle on the ground while gulping as much as he could before he had to ultimately drop it and began chasing you at full speed. You burst out laughing, probably sounding like a villian but who cares, you thought while trying to make your way towards the doors that led out to a common lounging area.

Heungmin looked at the loud screams from where he'd been standing a bit further away in a conversation with Seungho and began laughing himself when he saw you running away being chased by a furious Kangin, even he could tell you'd done something to irk the other and it was working.

"Y/N pulled that shit again, I can't believe Kangin fell for it again." Seungho said as his eyes followed you almost reaching the doors and saw how Kangin was almost just behind you, he let out his own chuckle and shook his head at your tactics.

The others of course knew you, maybe some being even more interested in you, but you'd pretty much known them since the time Kangin joined the National Team, you had been there when he made it and even given him the biggest congratulations that you could, because after all your best friend had been able to accomplish his goals at least, quite literally and also philosophically. (no puns intended)

You were introduced to the others and overall they were all friendly with you, some even began seeing you as their little sister and to top it off you also a football player as you were midfielder in your college team so you got along even more well with them. Yet you knew you saw most of them as your older brothers however you felt different for one player.

You don't think it was normal to feel those butterflies, you don't think it was normal to start feeling a pool of warm red forming in your cheeks, you don't think was normal to gulp and your heartbeat increasing as though you'd just ran for your fucking life. And worse this was the first time a guy scratch that a person made you feel this way.

And you certainly don't think it was normal that the reason behind all that had been Cho Guesung.

The very attractive striker of the South Korean National Team.

And that had been your big oh no moment, the minute, the second you realised who was the cause of that state.

You felt so fucking stupid.

Just as you were about to reach the doors, you felt two familiar arms wrap around your waist from behind as the bag left your hand and flew upwards, due to the sudden movement you squealed loudly and gasped when you were lifted into the air.

"Let me down! KANGIN! YAH!"

You began giggling as you suddenly felt him take a spin, it almost felt like you were a kid again and your father was making you play flying games, you know the ones where you pretend to fly in the air.

You weren't exactly a small person, 5'8 for a person wasn't really short, but then again the stamina of these men was no joke.

"Not until you apologize and buy me a whole crate of strawberry milk." Kangin taunted you as he too chuckled from your contagious laughter.

Both of you in your own little antics, to an outsider they'd think you were a couple, at least to those who thought their first assumptions were right.

"You are blocking the way."

A deep voice announced loudly with a hint of bitterness. Both of you immediately stopped, recognizing who it was, and opened your eyes widely as Kangin let go of you, you quickly stood beside him and a sudden wave of dizziness you guess from all the spinning hit you as you stumbled slightly, Kangin wrapping one arm around your waist again and pulling you onto his side so you could lean into him for some support.

The figure in front of you had his hand out when he saw you stumble but quickly put it aside, scoffing a bit after as he saw Kangin's hand on your waist, he went back to his face of indifference that had been holding for a while before anyone saw the scoff and annoyance.

However, it was too late as both Kangin and you saw the scowl. While you moved from your temporary support pretending to dust yourself, you nervously laughed and straightened your shirt

"Sorry," You told sincerely trying to muster a small apologetic smile at Guesung as Kangin rolled his eyes at his hyung's behavior as though he was used to it. He was used to it, more than he wished he was.

Guesung began feeling a small pit of guilt form in his stomach as he saw you look away in embarrassment before he could even make eye contact with you, mentally being annoyed at himself for having thoughts of wishing you'd have at least looked at him.

He quickly shook his head before he could get more wrapped up in thoughts about you. How pretty you currently looked under the daylight with somewhat messy hair up in a pony tail with a few strands out and cheeks slightly flushed from laughing, at least that's what he concluded but little did he know he was indeed the culprit of the flushed cheeks and nervous state of yours.

"It's fine, just don't be in the way next time." He muttered quietly as he held one strap of his duffle bag and his eyes traveled back to the both of you, he quickly walked past you, tightening his grip as he heard Kangin let out a snort.

Just cause he didn't know, obviously yet devastatingly, didn't mean no one else knew about your little infatuation. Though Kangin protested to that being the label of what you felt,

It's not an infatuation Y/N it's basically a crush at this point, maybe even the big L word.

You remember mentally and physically groaning at that and buried your hands in a swirl of emotions.

You let out a sigh of exhaustion and a hint of sadness as Guesung brushed past the both of you while Kangin snorted and once again rolled his eyes

"Can you believe that guy? There's a whole ass football field of space to move and he chose this way to go, as if it were on purpose don't you think?" He asked with a hint of teasing as he looked over at you and you now rolled your eyes and retorted back to him

"Shut up, you were making too much noise anyways."

You playfully hit him on his arm and then began to fix your hair which had became a mess and wanted to throw yourself off a cliff as you realised you looked like an absolute disaster in front of your-

"ME? you're the one who was being a bitter loser and stole MY food?!?" Kangin feigned in fake offence, his eyes held amusement as to how you were gaslighting him at the moment.

"AND you made me look like a fool in front of him."

You narrowed your eyes as you whispered harshly taking a quick glance at Guesung to make sure he wouldn't hear but he would not anyway as he was literally 100 feet from where you both stood.

Kangin looked at you in even more amusement as he saw you take a peek at his hyung, grinning with mischief and teased "Oh don't worry Y/N ah you'll never look like fool in front of him besides it is your true nature, embrace it you know."

He raised his hands and put quotation marks in the air "Self love no matter how much of an idiot you are." He finished with a shit eating grin that made you playfully pinch his ear.

"Ouch! Damn dude that hurts!" "What did you say again huh?"

"You are an id-" You twisted his ear a bit harder "I MEAN YOU ARE PERFECT OW! FUCK THAT HURTS LET ME GO!"

Smirking with pride you let go of his ear as he put his hand up to it to caress it gently from the needed but undeserved violence "Sheesh it's not like you actually will look like a fool anyways at least never to hyung so I don't know why you stress out so much."

He muttered as he caressed his ear and narrowed his eyes at you while cussing you in his mind geez this tiny human knows how to hurt (you still wonder how you seemed tiny because you were practically the same height but you suppose it could be regarding the fact that he was a few months older than you)

You raised an eyebrow, almost in amazement yet disbelief as you scoffed

"He HATES me Kangin might I remind you."

Your voice lowered towards the end as you thought about how unlike the other teammates and guys on the team, Guesung never seemed to have liked you.

(small flashback)

It's not like he would go out of his way to show his clear distaste in you, rather he always wore a mask of indifference or just merely ignored you whenever you were around.

You let out a snort at Kangin's words and what he was trying to imply as you remembered when they came back home after their FIFA World Cup matches, and how you'd been asked to help for the welcome party along with some other close ones of the other players and you being well you jumped to help as you were excited to not only meet your platonic soulmate after months but also excited to congratulate Guesung and tell him how proud you were of him, (as well as the other players ofc)

You'd worn one of your favourite outfits which was particularly red in colour in representation of the team which not only suited you so gracefully but was also comfortable to wear and you were already running late so you did some light makeup which would highlight your beautiful facial features as well as an easy yet pretty hairstyle. You had felt pretty confident that day ready because you yourself did look amazing, as usual.

You had reached the place and were waiting and helping around the staff when they came in one by one from the utter chaos they had faced outside the hotel as well as the airport. Your eyes darted towards Guesung and you couldn't help it, whenever he was anywhere you'd always find yourself taking secret glances at him, despite him doing the same, you relished those moments.

Your whole face lit up as you made your way towards them, poor Kangin being left as an after thought but it's not like you wouldn't meet him eventually you just saw Guesung first so you decided to congratulate him first.

When Guesung had stepped into the hotel lounge he couldn't help but scan the room searching for a particular individual who he had wanted to see after so long. He couldn't help it but admit how much he'd missed you. He'd thought about you a lot when he was in Qatar and was hoping you'd have watched how he played, watched how he scored. His heart always seemed to oppose him but for once he could mutually agree with what his heart was feeling for,yearning for.

And when his secret wish came true, you coming towards him, looking very much real rather than on a screen from the countless videocalls you'd done with Kangin and even some of the others even though you rarely talked to him despite wanting to but always being so so feeblish that you instead just wished him the best and would not talk much, he knew from that point there really was no turning back.

His feelings were very much real and he very much felt all that towards you and only you.

You stopped in front of him a few feet away dressed in their team colours which he observed and oh my God.

It felt as though his mouth had lost its ability to form anything that he had to take a gulp, you noticed his eyes slowly taking you in from head to toe and couldn't help but almost faint. You felt weak hearted, this boy wasn't good for your heart you concluded. But then again, you always craved ruination.

He on the other hand felt no better, he felt his heart pick up as his eyes drunk you in his, mind already getting intoxicated with the thoughts of your face, oh your beautiful face.

And when you beamed at him with the very stars in your eyes as though the Gods themselves had plucked them individually from the galaxy and placed them to make them twinkle everytime you'd beamed.

"Congratulations Guesung." You told still with the same gleam.

"You really played well for the team and those goals back to back were so fucking awesome, especially the second one, it was absolutely spectacular"

You finished fangirling as you recalled gasping in both awe and shock when he scored those goals against Ghana and despite them having ultimately lost the match, you think he played it marvelously and now wanting to cringe because you felt as though that still wasn't enough for what really was going on in your mind, and even though he had felt exhausted, your words were enough to make him for the first time, in front of you because God knows and maybe his teammates, the countless times he's secretly smiled just at the mere thought of you, smile at you as his face relaxed with content.

Yes, you heard it and saw it right, he was smiling AT YOU and not only that BECAUSE of YOU.

Internally you were freaking out and your eyes slightly widened while you try to act calm on the outside as he spoke up

"Thank you, really, it means a lot."

He still remained smiling at you while you stood there trying not to freak out even more because despite those being simple words they really hit the feelings for you.

And really on the other part, he felt no different, those words did mean a lot to him, more than they should have, more than it would to a normal person hearing those words because frankly hearing those words from someone that has an exceptional place in your heart means a whole fucking lot.

Before you could really say anything again, you felt yourself being tackled by someone and immediately your mind quite literally snapped out of its daze and focused on trying to not lose balance as the individual now fully wrapped his large arms around you.

"I MISSED YOU SO MUCH YOU HAVE NO IDEA!"

Kangin sobbed out as he hid his face in the crook of your neck and you couldn't help but chuckle and chose to just go with the flow while you pulled your arms out of the uncomfortable embrace to now comfortably wrap them around his large frame.

Guesung's face dropped, and the smile on his face vanished before he could even comprehend, of course he knew you were not particularly there for him, you were friends with most of the players and Kangin but he couldn't help the small selfish desire wishing you'd have come up to him and instead tackled him just the Kangin did to you, he'd be ready to embrace you, just how you were embracing Kangin.

The small irk of irritation began forming again when he noticed how tightly Kangin had held you, it was always like that, it was normal between you both. His jaw tensed as he looked away and he straightened his broad shoulders as he walked away without even soaring you another glance.

You noticed him as your head was over Kangin's shoulder and as expected you also took note of how his expression dropped which made a small frown settle on your face.

He was just smiling a minute ago, what suddenly happened?

It wasn't like it was your fault really, it was neither's fault because after all love is what makes a fool of us right?

Too bad this time, it decided to make you both the fools.

(end of small flashback)

READ PART TWO HERE !

all written works as well as images and edits (unless credited) belong to pri. do not plagiarise, repost, re-edit or claim as yours. pics mostly found on pinterest.

writingmeraki Ⓒ 2022

links : main navigation !

[ego-meliorem-esse]

Could you talk a bit about Matthew and Alfred relationship? Our boys need love too

The lads! The fellas! The absolute units!

Bear with me here I wanna give a little bit of a context and a personal explanation as to why I'm really fascinated with these two countries in general.

If there is one nationfolk relationship that comes as close to pure and friendly as it possibly can, it would be the Us-Can one. Of course, it has major problems and unavoidable disputes. But let me tell you, as a balkan, ex-yugoslav cretin, I cannot help but be intriqued with the way these two comunicate. They make fun of eachother sure, they have disputes and squables, sometimes outright clashes, but when there is crisis in the US for example, all I hear is Americans straight up saying "ok well time to move to Canada". It's fascinating to me! As a Croat who, after returning from Serbia from a 3 day trip, brought home souveniers (key chains mostly, with the Serbian flag) I was yelled at by my dad who afterwards didn't talk to me for a few days. All because I dared to bring this enemy countrys flag into our home. Now, I was born in 1999. I have no connection to the war 8 years prior. No excusable, personal vandetta. But still it' s very much acceptable to hate so strongly. And even if it wasn't 8 years that passed, but 80, there still would be a widely accepted resentment. But alas, I am not talking about people, cus frankly people are just people. Alliances and relations between countries are another thing. Imagine sharing a huge fucken border with another country and being friends. My euro brain is imploding. Uncomprehensible.

Now I do understand the US is often described as a bit of a phycho, and frankly Canada is an expert at dealing with the phycho. Kudos. Keep the yanks from whipping out their home protection assault rifles and unleashing hell fire is risky shit. Canada manages tho. What I'm really interested in is the USA's view of Canada. They aren't a threat. They aren't suspicious. They are a force to be reckoned with tho, but they are friends. If there is one ally the USA can rely on its the maple sucking french/anglo bastards up north. So much history in such a short time. Fascinating.

To relate this to the bros, I think these two understand eachother better than most. Matt is quiet, obsetvand and passive (mostly), while his unit of a brother is loud, idealistic and prone to thinking the world owes him time on the world stage. And it works. Matt is the one to talk to his brother in a way that gets Alfred to listen. H speaks Alfreds language and can communicate with him freely. I think that that is a skill and in the modern era, a privilage that not many have. Not many dare to tell Alfred to his face that he fucked up majorly, but Matt can. He knows he can. Alfred knows he can. So he does. Matt can pull his brother aside after an outburst, and for the lack of a better word, humble him.

Alfred respects his brothers oppinion more then other nations'. He went from seeing Matt as a weak, self-pitying and ambitionless dominion, to accepting his views, ideas and even asking his oppinion on certain matters. I like to draw a parallel here. Matt had to sacrifice everything and himself to have Arthur call him into the war room and ask Matthew for his oppinion. Alfred is not much different. It takes time for Matthews voice to be heard, but when the time comes, it's desperately needed.

Alfred tho, is and always will be Alfred. And if somthing else catches his attention, he will ignore the house on fire across the street. He is prone to isolation and ignoring his brother for extended periods of time, just sending him a tiktok every month or so. That being the only indication to Matt that his brother is alive. Alfred has so much shit going on and his 13 braincells have to spread evenly across to cover it all. His brother is a constant in his life, stable and therefore forgotten.

That being said, I don't think there is another person on Earth Alfred loves more than his brother. Showing it is not something he ever learned tho. He knows he cannot buy his way into showing his love for Matt, so with his lack skills of other forms of love expressions, he does nothing.

As for Matt, he checks up on Alfred as much as he can. His history and past have tought him to expect nothing form the people he loves. So he doesn't. He knows Alfred is his closest ally and best friend, but doesn't ask for anything Alfred himself isn't giving. He is a person who waits to be asked to hang out on Saturday instead of asking his friends himself.

So while almost all I talked about is sad and somewhat negative, I do think the bond and conversations these two share are one of the most honest and true expressions of brotherly love. And by god I usually don't use the world love when describing nation-folk relationships, but in this case there isn't a replacement.

sorry for the personal shit and Alfred slander, I love him.

[gatheredfates]

KORET SWAN.

Nickname: Kor. Generally only reserved for people she knows well, otherwise it's Koret or Captain. Age: Mid-thirties. Nameday: 32 Sun of the 5th Umbral Moon (All Saints Wake) Race: Mix-race Ala Mhigan Highlander (on her father's side) and Limsan Midlander (on her mothers). Gender: It's complicated. I could write an entire essay about Kor's perception of gender and where she fits in it but that would take up 90% of this mini dossier. However, to keep it brief: Kor is unsure if her desire to abandon her femininity is due primarily to her father's distain of it or that she simply does not see herself as a woman. There are times where presenting masculine suits her, pronouns and all, until she suddenly feels alienated and abandons it altogether. There are times she feels she is everything and nothing at all. There are times were being a woman is a comfort and strength. She fits somewhere on the spectrum of gender fluidity, but she is constantly questioning her place and constantly feeling invalidated by the way her own mind undermines her when it comes to it. She is a pronoun because it is easy; she is not employed because she believes she is always female. If she could stop thinking about it altogether, she would do it in a heartbeat. Orientation: Bisexual, no preference. Profession: Captain of the Wolfsbane; a notorious galleon once commanded by her father, Dimitri. It was 'gifted' to her in a decrepit state when Kor was considered old enough to command.

Fleet Captain of her father's ships in his death, answering predominately to the thalassocracy of Limsa Lominsa when called upon - though she mostly ships goods for Firelight Trading Company.

Warrior of Light in the applicable verse!

PHYSICAL ASPECTS

Hair: A deep, wavy crimson, cut just above the breast. Kor will often plait it when she is working — if not cut it shorter altogether. See aforementioned gender grappling. Eyes: Amber. Her father's eyes. In her non-WoL verse, she lost her right eye in an altercation with @riftdancing's Blink after her father tried to pit her against the other woman and her forces. The loss of vision was a mercy to spare her life. Skin: Pale, closer to her mothers, though she tans without too much trouble. However, seeing much of her skin beyond her face is reserved only for those she trusts, as beneath her clothes her body is marred with scars and pock-marks from her father's abuse. There are callouses on her hands. Tattoos/Scars: See above regarding scars. She is considering adopting some tattoos in light of seeing Vamp and Rex's, but hasn't committed fully to the idea yet. FAMILY

Parents: Dimitri Swan, youngest in a family of Ala Mhigan men forced to watch their city fall. He abandoned his homeland quickly after revelations about the Garleans and the Mad King emerged and took to Limsa for promises of wealth and prestige. Fighting, bargaining, trading and even killing for what he wanted, he became a notorious figure within Limsa Lominsa — reviled and respected in turn —and was not one readily crossed. His desire for a true-born son to inherit his legacy was all-consuming and, ultimately, his undoing.

I haven't given a name to Kor's mother yet, but she was a pretty little thing Dimitri met one night in the Drowning Wench. He wooed her with promises of a luxurious life and the first few years of their marriage were unremarkable — primarily due to Dimitri being constantly at sea. However, when she failed to produce a living heir after two daughters and numerous miscarriages/stillborn children, his opinion of her soured. She died when Kor was thirteen of a 'mysterious illness', though she maintains her mother simply gave up on life due to his ongoing abuse. In her youth, she hated her. As an adult, her opinion of her is complicated. Siblings: One full-blooded sister, Lily. Because I play hard and fast with character ages, and the canonical passage of XIV time makes no sense to me (and I don't subscribe to it), she died at the start of ARR. Whether that was one year, five years or anything in between... you tell me.

Kor is also aware she must have an innumerable amount of half-siblings due to her father's sexual appetite. Even when their marriage was good, there were always rumours he was taking women in far-flung ports — something he denied at first, but wholeheartedly used as a battering ram later as another blow to hurt his wife. It would bemuse Kor if he only shot blanks, but she's not an optimist. At this stage, none have come out of the woodwork and tried to communicate with her. Grandparents: She knows little about them. The ones on her father's side died during the fall of Ala Mhigo and the ones on her mother's she never learned anything about. Others: (God this is going to get so long).

To begin, Kor has a rather large extended family. On her mother's side, she has her cousin Paprika (played by @riftdancing). On her father's, she has Ashe and Eve. Dimitri tried to look like he was assimilating into Limsan society by taking on his wife's last name and abandoning his own, leaving Ashe with to carry the mantle of 'Hawke'. However, Kor was never close to any of them until adulthood.

In Ashe and Paprika's case, though they lived within the same city-state, Dimitri's iron fist over his family ensured Kor couldn't ask for help. They were also not really in a position to assist without inflicting his retribution onto them. Dimitri abandoned his brother when Ashe's father first arrived, and consequently isolated his wife from any contact with her family.

Eve didn't come into the picture until Kor was well and truly an adult. Ashe kept up with her via letters but, due to going due west to Thanalan with the other refugees, she was only able to escape her own captivity in her mid-twenties. They are incredibly distant for numerous reasons I won't get into here (because it'll be a novel).

Kor found a pseudo-father figure in my partner's character Rex, though she will not admit it to him directly. They came into contact through my character Crow (I enjoy all my characters being loosely interconnected), another fleet-captain hoping to push Dimitri out of the picture because he conflicted with her aspirations, and he quickly surmised her predicament through Crow's inference and Kor's eventual admission. His company is a second home to her, both metaphorically and literally these days.

Literally because she's dating one of the Head Mechanics — an Ala Mhigan man by the name of Vamp. This was another cheeky ploy by Crow to give Kor some connections to her homeland in the company of a man she knew to be gentle and kind; to the point she refused his charter from Limsa to Ul'dah, even if Rex was paying handsomely for the fare. Crow hadn't expected them to grow as close as they did... but she also won a bet, so that was nice. If she's in Firelight, she can be found in the workshop or the airship hanger keeping Vamp company while he works on Firelight's various vehicles.

Her relationship with Blink is... a thing. Don't quantify it. In another life, they're dating. In another-other life, one is dead by the other's hand. She's the embodiment of 'I fucked around and found out' — literally! What are they? Is she an ex, an enemy or something in between? Who knows! She calls her a friend these days. That's close enough.

You know who Kor's best friend is? She won't say it. It's Sarrai. Sarrai will happily say it, though. She'll sing it from the rooftops! She once asked Kor for her bones if she successfully died and the Captain was far too taken aback to say no. Dark humour wins again.

There's also some lore around her and my other best friend's OC Beau, but a lot of that is tied into Beau's WoL verse and makes it hard to properly quantify here without talking about that verse and making this post even longer. However, there's a lot of homoerotic tension. That's all you need to know. Same for the numerous connections she has with my friends' ocs at FTC and beyond. Most of them aren't active on tumblr but they know. They know. Pets: I jokingly have the Ugly Duckling out on Kor. She had a dog called Nipper in her WoW verse. Maybe she has a pet? Who knows.

SKILLS

Abilities: Kor is a captain. With that come a myriad of skills including, but not limited to: commanding a ship and reading the seas; diplomacy, negotiation and bartering; mastery over a myriad of weapons including a gunblade and a musket (I maintain Kor was a musketeer in ARR despite it being moved to machinist in HW); a depth of political understanding/manoeuvring; and a shit-tonne of luck. She also possessed the Echo, a 'gift' given to her the night her sister died. Hobbies: Kor is a workaholic. Down-time is few and far between, because it gives her too much time to think. However, she does enjoy reading for its escapism.

TRAITS

Most positive trait: I think it's her accountability. Kor doesn't like to admit she is wrong and doesn't like to look weak, yet she will grit her teeth and apologise eventually because she knows it's the right thing to do. She's also got mountains of endurance and will put her own life/limb on the line for her love ones because she knows she can take it. Most negative trait: Her melancholy. Kor is jaded from a lot of life's experiences, and this manifests in someone who is closed off, hostile and downright nasty when people push her too far. She battles with extreme suicidal ideation that can often make her endurance a detriment because she doesn't always care if she dies. Her father called her a dog for her bark but she's also known to bite.

LIKES

Colours: Navy blue, bottle-green and red. Smells: Sea-salt, brine and freshly-carved wood. Smoky cedarwood colognes and anise. Rum and other similar spirits. Coffee. Textures: Water, wool and steel. The feeling of wood beneath your fingers. Drinks: Hot chocolate.

OTHER DETAILS

Smokes: Frequently. It's her go-to vice, only because it has less 'negative' side-effects to alcohol. Dimitri was an alcoholic and Kor possesses his rage. She knows what she can be like when she drinks. Drinks: ...Semi-frequently. Just because she knows what she's like doesn't mean she won't partake, especially in times of turmoil and strife. These days she tries to drink sweeter things like mead and wine, rather than hard spirits/beer, because she finds she's more aware of how much she has drunk rather than losing herself to the bottle. Drugs: She's dabbled, but it's not for her. Kor has an addictive personality and wrestles enough with booze and tobacco. She doesn't need anything else. Mount Issuance: Does a ship count? I also fully believe that the fall of Garlemald has brought technological advancements to Eorzea and Rex would not have passed up the chance to build things like cars and motorbikes. If so, Kor has the latter. Been arrested: Sure! She's been drunk and disorderly and had a few nights in a Limsan gaol. That's kind of the part of being a privateer, y'know?

Tagged by: @sundered-souls — at least for this one! I'm going to try and do one character per tag. Tagging: @halikyon, @zylphiacrowley, @abracarabbit, @laurel-resting, @starforger, @corsair-kovacs, @cindernet-explorer & @eriyu! (provided you haven't done it already; if so, maybe an alt?) If you'd like a chance of being tagged, you can like my permanent interaction call here!

[sannasruins]

my letters to you

Aizawa Shouta x reader

type: fluff to angst

warning: major character death, non-descriptive violence, grief

a/n: i did not intend for this to be so long, i'm already working on the next part, i just wanted to get this out since it's already at this length, this is probably the saddest thing i have ever written, sorry in advance. reader is referred to with she/her pronouns

word count: 4.7k

As a Pro Hero, you had known since your school days, the job held the risk of one day not letting you return home. While it was a scary thought, devoting your life to a job that very well may take it, you had no doubt in your mind that being a hero was what you were meant to do. So, from a very young age, you had decided you wouldn’t ever let yourself get too close to someone, especially not your fellow hero’s in-training, so you wouldn’t have to suffer the grief of losing them, and they not have to suffer loosing you, if it ever came down to it. That was, until you met Aizawa Shouta in your first year at UA high school. 

He sat two chairs behind you your first year of school, the quiet one in his loud friend group, and though many people didn’t seem to see it, you saw how incredibly kind that boy way. You saw in him what you hoped others might see in you, that he was truly born to be a hero. You decided, looking at that dark-haired boy who sat two seats behind you your first year at a high school for heroes, that he was going to be someone that you let get too close.

You spent your school days studying and training with your peers, and the evenings after school walking home with Shouta, and on those trips to and from school, you slowly fell in love with him, and him with you, not that you were aware. 

The two of you would often walk home as the sun was setting, along the river, on lookers would see the couple, bathed in the orange light. The girl, a large smile on her face as she talked excitedly about nothing in particular, looking forwards towards the sunset and their destination, and the boy, a small, barely noticeable smile on his, looking at her as she moved forwards with a bounce in her step. 

Walks home slowly morphed into afterschool dates, not that either of you had the courage to actually call them that, often stopping by things like bakeries and crepe stands. On your first visit to a crepe stand, you ordered the cult classic strawberries and cream, and much to your disgruntlement, Shouta ordered dark chocolate on dark chocolate, your face taking on an expression of disbelief as he took the first bite of his and seemed to genuinely enjoy it. He mistook your expression, and thinking you wanted to try his crepe, shyly offered you a bite. Feeling bad for judging the sweet boy standing next to you, you took a tentative bite from the crepe, maybe it wouldn’t taste as bad as you thought it would! Maybe now that you’re older you’ll enjoy dark chocolate more than when you last tried it! Alas, dark chocolate has remained the same, and so has your taste, as you make a displeased face and after swallowing, stuck out your tongue in disgust. He let out a little laugh at your expression, and asked you if you didn’t like dark chocolate, and you replied that no, nobody with normal taste buds should like dark chocolate, it tastes like dirt! He chuckled again and the two of you started back on your trek home, you finding solace in your normal and tasty crepe, and every few minutes for the rest of the walk, adding more reasons and defamation to dark chocolate. Even though you were dissing something he enjoyed, he didn’t seem to mind, as he listened with a small smile on his face, eating his crepe and watching you. 

The two of you often frequented an arcade that was on your path home, having almost weekly competitions on who could beat who’s high score, Shouta never seemed to the comparative type but when it was just you two, you could see a rare grin forming on his face as the levels increased in difficulty and he got closer and closer to the besting number, the glint in his eye wasn’t just from the reflection of the arcade game’s screen, and it gave you butterflies.

On the last day before summer break, your second year of school, you asked Aizawa Shouta to meet you behind the school building after classes had let out. It wasn’t too strange that the two of you were meeting after school, since you usually walked home together, but why behind the school instead of in front by the entrance gates was confusing to him.

You were waiting there for him, with a small white box in your hands, and as he approached you, you bowed and put your arms out, presenting him with the little package. “Aizawa Shouta,” your voice trembled but you continued on, “will you please go out with me?”. You felt him take the box, so you let go and quickly straightened yourself, but did not raise your eyes from the dirt you were standing on, too nervous to meet his. It was quiet for a long time, and your heart began to sink at the prospect of rejection. You finally looked back up at him, tears starting to sting in your eyes, only to have your eyes land on a Shouta Aizawa whose face was so red it looked as if it may start to glow.

“Are… are you blushing?” You questioned him, fear tinged the edges of your words. His eyes shot up to meet yours, only for a second before returning to the ground, and he gave a shy nod of his head.

“I,” his voice caught in his throat, like it wasn’t ready to yet talk, “I wasn’t expecting this.”

“Is that a no?” disappointment heavy in your tone.

“No!” he shouted, and then, looking as if his sudden outburst was a surprise even to him, he continued, “I mean, I think you’re really cool, and smart, and I really enjoy hanging out with you, and I think you’re so pretty.” As he lists his compliments towards you his volume lowered in embarrassment, his last word being barely above a whisper. 

“So,” he quickly started again, voice returned now to a normal volume, “I would like to go out with you, l/n y/n.”

The tension you didn’t know had built up in your body suddenly released, stress of rejection melting off of you and into the earth below. You let out a shaky laugh, tears that had been caught in your eyes spilling over the brim and down your cheeks, your throat slowly untightening from the adrenaline. “Thank you, I’m so glad.”

“Oh no nono,” he said worriedly, taking a step towards you, and reaching out an unsteady hand to brush a tear away with his knuckle. “Please don’t cry, why are you crying?”

You laughed, “I really don’t know,” and you grinned, “I’m just so happy.”

He blushed and looked away, a hand reaching up to rub the back of his neck, “yeah, me too,” he murmured. 

You two started the walk home from the back of the school, your hand shyly reaching for his.

“What’s in this, anyways?” he asked in reference to the little white box you had presented him earlier. 

“Oh,” you blushed, embarrassed again, “its homemade dark chocolate.” He looked down at the box in his free hand, and a smile played at his lips.

That day on lookers would see the couple, bathed once more in the orange light, next to the slow flowing river. The girl, a large smile on her face as she talked excitedly about nothing in particular, looking forwards towards the sunset and their destination, and the boy, a small, barely noticeable smile on his, looking at her as she moved forwards with a bounce in her step, but this time, they were hand in hand.

Having yet joined a hero’s agency to intern at since Aizawa hadn’t either, when you were offered a place at His Purple Highness’ agency along with him and your mutual friend, you jumped at the opportunity to have even more time with your boyfriend. The two of you had kept your relationship relatively quiet in fear of it affecting the opportunities you both would be offered in the future, not wanting to be barred from working along one another. It was the middle of your second year when one of Aizawa Shouta’s and your friend, Oboro Shirakumo, was killed during your hero work studies. You were there with Shouta but had been knocked out by the Villain Garvey’s stock quirk and left to watch in dazed horror though foggy vision the violence that continued. It started to rain. You watched your beloved Aizawa fight the villain by himself, a boy who never thought he was meant for solo combat, doing what he must to protect the nursery school children, knowing he truly was the last wall between them and the villain. You watched him defeat Garvey, and as back up arrived, watched as he was congratulated on his victory, alone. Your barely conscious body had been picked up at that point, paramedics moving you towards an ambulance. You saw your Shota’s gaze follow a pointed finger, to where Oboro’s body had been removed from the rubble and gently placed into a body bag, already stained with cool blood, mixing with the wet ground under him. Rain had started to pour by then, the cold missiles stinging the skin of your face, it mingles with the warm salt of your tears. You desperately, and weakly, push away the medics trying to help you, and stumble towards him, standing in the freezing downpour. When you reach him, you throw your arms around him, and the two of you sink to your knees. You press his cooled face into the warmer skin of your chest, squeezing him tightly as your body gently shakes with unsure sobs. If he cried, you couldn’t tell, the two of you sat kneeling in the rain for a long time, long past the point of soaking you to the bone. Hizashi joins you two at some point, mourning in the rain together in a way no children should have to, and when told to move out of the rain, he speaks for the three of you in saying that the weather and your place in it was befitting of the occasion.

After the shocking death of your friend, Aizawa changed, he was still the boy you loved, but he poured more and more time and effort into solo training, not ever wanting to have to rely on others in combat. He got it into his head that he, someone with a non-combat based quirk, still had to be able to protect even his fellow combat based quirk heroes. He never wanted to be weak like he was that day in the rain ever again. He never wanted to lose anyone else.

You changed after Oboros death too, it brought back your dated mentality of not wanting to get too close to anyone, but you knew, if you distanced yourself from your sweet boyfriend, it would be one the gravest mistakes you ever made in your entire life. So, instead, you thought about your mortality, how much you missed your dear friend already, and how this very thing could happen to you too one day. You were okay with the idea of losing your life in battle, it held honor, you had accepted that long ago. Now knowing the other side of the coin, being the one left behind when someone dear departed while in battle, you knew you couldn’t do nothing.

So, you started writing letters to Aizawa Shouta, for the just incase. And every year or so, you would rewrite them, having them updated to the most recent you. You did that for quite some time.

You and Shouta experienced many first together. You graduated, watched him start his underground hero agency while staying to side kick under His Purple Highness, working up the ranks until you yourself were ready to set off on your own as a Hero. Your time as a sidekick had allowed you to slowly rise through the popularity ranks, and when you debuted as a hero, you already had your standing in the top 100. You and Shouta moved in together 3 years after graduating, never having broken up, you had just decided it would be important to establish yourselves as individuals before you moved in with one another. Bright eyes 21-year-olds, charging their way into the world, establishing yourselves among the hero ranks. A year later he proposed, it wasn’t at a fancy restaurant on the top floor of a hotel, or a big spectacle with all your friends and family there, instead it was in the warm orange light of the setting sun, on the walk home from visiting a crepe stand, not too much unlike the one you visited when you were in school. It was mid spring, and along the river, covered in a blanket of pink petals, he got down on one knee. The backdrop of sakura trees in full bloom, and before you, your beloved presenting you a lovely ring only he could have picked, that suited you so well, you were the happiest person alive. You lowered yourself down onto your knees as well, ignoring the looks of curious onlookers, and threw your arms around his neck, knocking him over into the grass. With tears of joy in your eyes, you took his face in your hands and peppered enthused kisses all over his face, his cheeks, his eyelids, his nose, his forehead, his chin, until you reached his lips. You pressed a lingering kiss to them, before pulling your head up, and meeting his eyes, “Yes, yes a thousand, a million times yes.”

He grinned back at you, and using the pads of his thumbs, wiped away the tears staining your cheeks, “thank you.”

Onlookers this time would see the happy couple, walking in the light of the setting sun, hand in hand, but this time around, she had a ring on hers. 

At the ripe age of 24, the two of you tied the knot, the date was set to the day, 10 years ago, that the two of you had first met at the entrance ceremony of UA high school. He looked dashing in his best suit, and you looked ethereal in your dress as you walked down the aisle to meet him at the altar, both of you wearing face splitting grins. You were in the top 40 at that point in your career, and the media had a small field day with your wedding. The 34th ranked hero (y/h/n) and the elusive eraserhead were wed today at an exclusive venue, only close friends and family were invited! Read more to find out all the juicy gossip of the latest hero wedding.

After your wedding you moved out of your shared apartment and into a cute little two story in a residential area of town, with enough room for whatever the future may hold. You rewrote your letters for the last time in that house. 

It was 13 months after the two of you got married, that it happened, a balmy May evening. Villain activity had been on the rise and stronger villains were appearing everyday. He wasn’t on the scene when it happened, he wasn't able to do the thing he trained so hard to do.

He had heard your call for backup over the radio, when you encountered an especially strong opponent, and had been rushing towards your location, tuning out the reports that were constantly being fed into his ear, as you were the only thing on his mind. When he was only 5 minutes away, there was an explosive sound, and the whole neighborhood began to shake, and in the distance he saw a plume of dust and smoke rising into the darkening sky. 

You had been on the edge of being defeated, knowing that that was truly the end, and had decided to take the rising villain out with you. It had been in an abandoned warehouse in the business sector of the neighborhood, there probably wouldn’t be anyone around expect for you and the person you were fighting, you reasoned with yourself as you set your quirk off for the last time, making sure that if you go out, your last fight wouldn’t be one that you lost. 

The dust had started to settle by the time Shouta arrived, there were other heroes and rescue teams already there, several of whom were mere moments away from providing backup, but they would have been too late even if you didn’t decide to be as rash as you were. Many were shifting through the rubble as he swung his head from side to side, looking for you, deluding himself that you would be among the heroes on top of the rubble, instead of under it. He didn’t see you. 

Someone called out that they had found you, it was Hizashi, Shouta saw him cradling your broken and bloody form. A sound ripped from his throat, choked, horrified, bloodcurdling, and he rushed over to where his blond friend kneeled in the wreckage. Hizashi gently handed off your cooling form to his best friend, but remained next to him, as Shota murmured to you. 

He pleaded for you to wake, for you to move, for you to open your eyes, god please just breath please. There was nothing you could do though, you weren’t there anymore, not really. He clung to you, and wept, voice growing hoarse, till his cries were nothing but shakes of his body. Eventually, medics had to take you away, and he watched, as they zipped your lovely body up in the disgusting black bag. He watched you be carried off, though the medics were treating your body with the utmost respect, he could not help but despise them for taking you away. 

It was on the news when he got home, the tv having been left on. He carefully took off his shoes, stripped of his dusty uniform, and showered, going numbly through a routine he had established, which was missing an essential part, you. He dried and dressed, and made his way up to your bedroom, where he fell to his knees on your side of the bed, burying his face in the blankets you had slept in not even a day ago, inhaling the scent of you. He broke once more, realizing that soon, the smell would fade, and it would just be another memory he would unwillingly slowly forget to the passage of time. He fell asleep there, on the floor, after crying all the tears his body held and more. 

He didn’t leave the house for days, remaining in your shared bed, cradling the small stuffed animal you had gotten as a present for yourself after graduating from UA, you smiley excuse being “for when you’re not here, I still need something to cuddle,” he had thought it was silly, maybe a little immature, but had never said anything on the matter. But now he held onto the small stuffed friend as if it was his only salvation in the horrible world he was forced to live in since you had left. He didn’t eat, he didn’t move, he just drifted in and out of painful consciousness. 

Your funeral had come and gone, people and the media were shocked to see the lack of your doting husband at your wake. . After 4 days of no contact, Hizashi came by, and let himself in with the spare key you kept hidden under a rock by the entrance. Long ago, right after graduating from high school, you had told Hizashi that if you were ever to die in combat, to look for a construction paper covered shoe box in your closet, that it was for Shouta. When he asked you what it was, and why you had prepared something so morbid, you didn’t have much of a real answer to give him. “Please”, you had  asked your blonde friend, “it’s something I started doing after Oboro… after oboro’s death. There’s so many things I never want Shouta to have to experience alone, without me.” He had nodded in acceptance of your words, and not wanting to focus on such a pessimistic topic on your graduation day, changed topics with a smile, going on about where the after party’s after party might be taking place.

He walked to your bedroom, “I’m coming in,” he announced as he swung the door open, though he didn’t receive a response. His heart twinged at the sight of his best friend, huddled under the comforter on your side of the bed, clutching a well loved stuffed animal. Though he had lost a friend, he couldn’t imagine the pain Aizawa Shouta was going though, it was as if the man that lay before him had lost a part of himself. A puzzle that will never again be able to be completed. 

Hizashi sat on the edge of the bed, next to the owner of greasy ebony hair, which he ruffled. “You need to take a shower man, you know how y/n doesn’t like it when you let it get this dirty.”

“She’s gone.”

Oh, it hit him in the gut, the blonde flinched. She is gone, and she couldn’t ever come back either. The rest of their lives, they would have to live without the bright girl they had known for so long. They would keep on living, and she would not. They would have to remember her longer than they had known her. 

“It hurts.” Hizashi said, “it hurts so bad, and it feels so unfair, and if there was anything I could do to undo this, to even take away the pain you’re feeling right now, I would do it in a heartbeat.”

“But,” he continued, “but there’s not, there is absolutely nothing we can do to undo what has already been done. The only thing we can do is to live the way she would have wanted. Do you think she would have wanted you to lie in your shared bed, rotting away until you died? Do you think she would happily greet you at the gates of death if you let yourself end in that way?”

Shouta turned his head to look at his friend, dark eyes red and swollen from their endless flow of tears, that even now, dripped from them.

“Get up,” the blond stood and slapped the top of his thighs, “take a shower, brush your teeth, I’m going to go downstairs and cook something for us to eat.”

Shouta nodded, and slowly sat up, his hair falling into his face like a dark veil. He rose from the bed, and begrudgingly made his way to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of himself in the mirror on his way. He looked haggard, stubble grown out, his heart hurt so badly at the thought of you seeing him like this, he decided he would shave too.

After his friend had left the room, Hizashi went towards the closet, feeling guilty about disturbing things the way you had left them, he tried his best to leave as much as he could untouched as he looked for the brightly decorated box he had been told about. He found it without much effort, tucked away in the very back of the top shelf, covered in cute scrapbooking paper and stickers, it really was quite the reflection of you, something you had made with such care and love. It hurt thinking about how you ever had to prepare this sort of thing in the first place, having been preparing for your own death since you all had been teenagers. He gingerly removed it from its place, and carried it downstairs to the kitchen with him, tucking it away to bring it up later, after he had gotten some food into his mourning friend. 

He opened the fridge, revealing a tupperware of something preprepared, just needing to be cooked. He opened the lid of it, taking a whiff to see if it was still good or if it had gone bad in the time that has passed since it was made, it hadn’t. He washed and put the rice in its cooker before tossing the contents of the tupperware into a pan, frying it until it was done, and serving it with the fresh steaming rice. 

Shouta came downstairs, the smell of your cooking hitting his nose, and for a few moments he forgot that you weren’t there, in your sunny kitchen, cooking one of your meals to share with him, a smile on your face as you greeted him entering. Instead of your smile greeting him, it was Hizashi, and Shouta lost his strength, gripping the doorframe as his slid to the ground, chest shaking in grief.

Hizashi quickly took the few steps that separated him and the crying man on the floor, sinking down to his level and grasping him by his arms, concern morphing his face. 

“This,” a sob stopped him from continuing, “this is her cooking, this is,” sob “this is the last time I’ll ever be able to eat something she made. I’m,” sob “I’m going to have to live the rest of my life without ever going to be able to taste her food again.” His body convulsed with the strength of his sorrow.

They cried together on the kitchen floor for a while, until the food had completely cooled. Hizashi lead Shouta to the table, sitting him down in his chair before picking up their plates and placing them in the microwave, warming them back up, until they once more had steam rising from them. 

He put the plate of food in front of your husband, placing fork in his hand, forgoing chopsticks for fear that Shouta would simply be too weak from his 4 days of laying in bed, forgoing food. 

Aizawa Shouta scooped up a small bite of the meal sitting in front of him, tentatively raising the fork before placing it in his mouth. As soon as the flavors hit his tongue he started silently crying again. He slowly ate, trying to savor every bite, ignoring the salty taste of his own tears as he swallowed. 

The blond watched him, while eating his own meal, tears came to his eyes as well, thinking about what his friend had said, this truly would be the last time he ate your cooking. Never again would he be invited over to your loving home, entering the warm environment you had made, and eating dinner with you and your friends. How you had loved to host little dinner parties for your friend group, those that you had known since your schooling days. He felt bad about being the only one of the group to get to eat your cooking one last time, so he took his time as well, wanting to enjoy it enough for everyone that wasn’t there with them in the room that was now cool and grey without your presence. 

When Shouta was done, he pushed his plate to the side and laid his head on crossed arms, trying to control his breathing as he cried, trying to be thankful that he got to taste it one last time, instead of only sorrowful that that would be the last time he would ever taste it.

“Shouta,” Hizashi started after a while of silence, “I have something to give you.” He got up from the table and walked to retrieve where he had hidden the box, and then returning and placing it between the two of them on the table.

“This is from her, from y/n”

The dark-haired man looked up, bleary eyes landing on the colorful box. “What is it?” he questioned.

“To be honest, I’m not entirely sure. Y/n just told me to give it to you if anything ever happened to her.” the green-eyed man answered. 

Shouta reached out and opened the box, reviling its contents. Letters.

part two