#anyway every time he smiles in this show i gain twenty years cause he never does it and it's always those cute small shy smiles i love

[todayisafridaynight]

and maybe i really like Pure (1996) because toru makes me think of a timeline where sawashiro didnt go into the yakuza ok . then what.

[deathbyathousandspiders]

Hi elle! I was wondering if you could do some angst in where reader is tony's daughter but shes the forgotten one and tony shows a lot of affection to peter and one day she just loses it. Its ok if you don't want to.

Stay safe and drink water!

i’ve never felt so motivated to write something–

content warnings (18+) — immense swearing, mentions of insecurity and negative outlook, yelling, author possibly projecting?, maybe too many italicized words/phrases.

✨masterlist✨.

3.5k.

You knew your dad loved you. He had to. He said it to you a million times before, and made it a point to remind you of it once a day. However, there were moments nowadays where you began to question it. You didn’t really question whether he loved you or not, but rather, whether he loved Peter Parker more than you.

Tony had referred to Peter as the son he’d never had. He’d taken Peter on retreats and to expos when he hadn’t taken you out on a trip since you were nine years old. He’d bought things for Peter, and fixed things for Peter, and every meme or video or cat picture you found on the internet to show to your father would automatically get the response: “send that to me, i want to show it to Peter.”

Peter this and Peter that. It sent you into a spiral of insecurity that you’d never known existed. You truly felt like Tony was trying to tell you something subliminally. You tried to drown yourself in coursework, go to engineering camps, and help out with the Avengers just to try and gain a better understanding of their bond. Of what you lacked. Nothing seemed to help. It jabbed at your feelings like a knife to the back, presumably left by Peter Parker himself.

And the worst part? You’d never even met the guy. You’d never been introduced to Peter Parker, despite how many times Tony mentioned the fact that he’d “love for you two to meet,” and “you two would get along great.” Yeah, sure. And he’s probably some gross ass dude with an untamed beard in his mid–twenties that your father took pity on. So much pity, in fact, that he’d invited Peter to stay over for the weekend in your penthouse apartment.

Fantastic.

It was such a sudden proposition, and a last second invite, but it happened. And Tony insisted, despite every protest you attempted to give, that you’d both greet him in the lobby.

So when you were face to face with a surprisingly attractive boy your age who had the deepest brown eyes you’d ever seen and barely packed a duffel bag, you were thrown off your rocker. You hardly had the composure to speak. Thus, your father did for you, smiling wider than you’d ever seen him smile before.

He was barely showing teeth, but you hadn’t seen your father this excited about something in a while. “Kid, this is my daughter, Y/N.” He stated proudly, grasping Peter’s shoulder as he started introductions. “And sweetheart,” Tony addressed you, turning his full focus to you as he gave Peter’s introduction. “This is Peter Parker.”

There was something about him that caused for you to detest him. It wasn’t seen on his clothes, or in his eyes. It wasn’t dangling in the tension between you, or whispered through his silent stares, but it was there. Perhaps, it came from the depths of your subconscious, and the land of your imagination. You shoved that proposition deeper into your subconscious, too.

Because you were certain that you had a hatred for Peter Parker, and his little staycation with the Stark’s would prove it.

The first night was fine. Your dad didn’t make you do any activities together, thank God, but he did surprise you with the news that he had to leave the next morning for a last second Avengers emergency. He didn’t know when he’d be back, but Tony assigned you and Peter with the task of rewiring a circuit board in his lab before he returned.

Being the daughter of Tony Stark, you’d taken the initiative to finish the project yourself. It was your house, anyways. It was a request that your father had made to you, so you intended to do it. You just hated the fact that Peter persisted in being with you in the room while you finished it. You hated the silence he left in the room, and the way he kept checking over your shoulder. God, you just hated him. You were sure of it.

You could feel his presence watching over your hands as they worked. You could feel the weight of his judgment, his breath catching in hesitation. You could smell the fumes of his cologne, and the aroma of his hair products. It was infuriating. It was pressuring. It felt mocking, taunting.

He stepped closer, hands reaching over to where yours were tinkering, yet they didn’t dare to touch your project. “A–actually, you should move the circuit focus closer to the–”

The audacity he had to question you. The nerve he struck with his comment, it filled you with rage.

Wrench and wire were thrown to the table, clanking and clamoring as they caved to gravity’s pull. Their sound was the only thing keeping you and Peter from shared silence. The shared silence of your anger. You turned your head to look at him, hoping that you weren’t physically exhaling flames like you imagined you were.

“Can you just.. not?” The question almost came out as a laugh. You nearly laughed, in disbelief that Peter Parker thought he had any say in how you built a robotic contraption. “Can you just fucking not?”

Walls had been building up inside you, livid and rageful feelings clouding your judgment as you glared at him. You couldn’t see just how shocked he was, thrown off at your irritation. You couldn’t see how puzzled he was, or panicked that he’d done something to upset you so much. You just stared into the eyes of what felt like your replacement. You felt empty, worthless, as your figure reflected back at you through the glistening of his eyes.

“Can I not what? Did I– Did I upset you?” Just the sound of his voice crawled beneath your skin. It felt worse than the sleek of humidity, or nails on a chalkboard. It sounded teasing, coy.

It was the final straw.

Nails dug into your palm as your hands formed fists. One fist pressed to your forehead, almost speaking as a warning to tell you to keep composure, but you couldn’t help it. You couldn’t fucking stand it anymore. “Can you stop being so fucking perfect all the time?” The words slipped out before you could stop them.

There were several things that you’d been wanting to say to Peter Parker. You’d wanted to tell him off for a long time, but you’d never gotten the chance. Now, you’d given yourself the opportunity to let the floodgates open and your tongue run wild.

“You’re always making shit competitive and iT’S NOT OKAY. It’s not my fault that my own father loves yOU MORE THAN ME! Doesn’t mean you have to fucking rub it in my face every gODDAMN FUCKING HOUR!!” God, this felt good. “You can just do my job for me!! Fucking move into my rOOM at this point, Tony won’t know the difference!!” You scoffed, “In fact, he’d probably be tHRILLED that you FINALLY REPLACED ME!!”

Peter Parker blinked a few times at you. His mouth hung agape, too scared to say anything and interrupt what looked like things you had been needing to say. The look infuriated you.

“Build the circuit board by your goddamn fucking self and leave me the fuck alone!!” And as you made the final statement, you turned to make your leave. The subtle breeze caught your face, and you felt the air hit your cheeks cold; you hadn’t noticed that you’d started crying.

You also hadn’t noticed the fact that your dad entered the room. You froze dead in your tracks at the sight of him, tears brimming your eyes again when you saw how upset he looked.

Shit.

It wasn’t your intention for him to hear all of that, but you couldn’t take back the truth once it’d gotten out. You took a staggered breath, choking back a sob as you rushed out. You didn’t know which hurt more: to hear your father’s footsteps tread further from you, or to hear him ask Peter about what was happening rather than you directly.

Either way, it was an added punch right to the gut.

It felt like ten minutes of sobbing in your room went by before a knock was placed on your door. You were about to answer, but you weren’t given the chance; your father opened the door as soon as he’d placed the knock, a solemn look coating his face as he looked at you from the doorframe. It was a solemn look that resembled disappointment.

He was disappointed in you.

Your dad was disappointed that you’d blown a fuse in front of your house guest. Disappointed that you’d ruined your chance at a good first impression. Disappointed that you’d shown such weakness. He was disappointed that you didn’t meet his expectations. He was disappointed in you for not making his honorary son feel more welcomed. Your father was disappointed in you for fucking it all up. You could tell.

Tony took careful steps towards your bed, sitting next to you as you stifled your sobs down a bit. “Do.. You want to talk about what happened back there?” His tone was softer than you’d anticipated for someone who was disappointed in you. It almost sounded apologetic, sympathetic; you were certain that your mind was reaching for a false reality.

A sniffle caught your breath as you looked at him, fresh tears framing your face. “How much of that did you hear?” You were almost too scared to ask, but you needed to know. You had to know which bit of air to clear first.

“All of it.” Tony started, “From the part where you asked Peter not to be so fucking perfect all the time..” His tone got a little sharper, almost witty. It sounded like he was trying to make humor of your meltdown. As though he were trying to find a way to cheer you up, or tell you to grow up and get over yourself. You couldn’t tell.

You averted eye contact for a moment, trying not to blow up again. Luckily, most of the anger in your system was boiling down to melancholia. Your tears ran rivers down your face as you tried to find the words to say. “I just don’t understand..” You started, keeping your voice from breaking.

Every speck of humor fled from his face at how upset you were getting. Tony’s brows pressed together, graveness and concern bleeding through his tone of voice. “Don’t understand what, honey?” The gentleness of his tone reminded you of when he’d comfort you in childhood. It took you back to when he’d snapped at you and wanted to apologize, or when you’d scraped your knee and he rushed to patch you up. It started to ease the narrative in your head that Tony was angry with you for your little tantrum.

“I, uh.. I don’t—” A shaky breath cut you off. You weren’t sure how to communicate this feeling lightly. It’d been bottled up and growing inside you for a couple months now. You knew you’d have to tell him at some point, you just despised how raw it was. It was pure vulnerability. “I don’t understand what I did to not be good enough–” You couldn’t even get through the sentence before your lip quivered.

That was when Tony looked at you like the entire world shattered. His entire world shattered. The disappointment flooded his expression once again, but it hit you that it was never directed at you — Tony was disappointed in himself. His eyes held the weight of failing as a father, of making you feel this rejected. He failed by making you feel rejected in the first place. His arms wrapped around you, pulling you into a suffocating hug; you weren’t sure if he’d ever actually be able to let go of it, yet it was the kind of hug you didn’t want to part from. A hug that shielded you from the entire world.

His lips pressed to your temple, along with a few stray tears he couldn’t catch beforehand. It was rare to catch your father tearful, yet you seemed to lower that guard when you started the conversation. He held you close, letting you cry out the feelings you’d locked away for so long.

“Y/N, you’re more than enough..” He lulled, voice breaking ever so slightly, “It’s my fault you ever felt like you weren’t..” His words were everything you’d hoped to hear. You’d began to believe the possibility that actually hearing them wasn’t actuality. This insecurity had driven you beyond wild, to the point where you believed that your father’s intentions were pinned against you.

They never were.

Tony held you in his arms for the next hour, letting you talk out your growing anxiety. You talked about everything from your fomo towards their retreats and trips, to how thrown off you were that Peter was your age.

“I actually think you two would make a cute couple.” Tony started, laughing at how quick you were to throw a punch at his bicep. The melancholy had worn off both of you, and the room started to fill with laughter. “I’m serious!” Tony threw his arms up to mock defeat before changing the topic a little. “But really, I think he wants to apologize to you for what happened.”

Your face drew a blank, mixing shock and confusion as you blinked at your father a few times. “Parker wants to apologize to me? For my meltdown?”

A shrug caught in your father’s posture. “You two are more similar than you think, hon.” His tone was light and sincere as he chuckled, quietly, “You both put the weight of other people’s mistakes on your shoulders.” His words draped a blanket of guilt over your body. Your own words from said meltdown began to replay through your brain like a broken record; the blame you’d thrown at Peter was wrongfully served.

You knew you needed to apologize.

After rebuilding trust with your father, and mentally rehearsing how to apologize to Peter, you made your way across the apartment to the guest room.

The door was already open, and gave you the perfect view of Peter seated on the edge of the bed. He was reading, fidgeting fingers at the edge of his pages, and chocolate curls shadowing his focused expression.

Now that you’d been able to release the steam of your self–consciousness, you realized that hatred wasn’t the actual feeling you had towards Peter; it was envy. And once you had talked things out with your father, the clouds of your judgment cleared from your vision and you could finally see Peter Parker for who he really was: a boy. A boy your age who needed a place to crash for the weekend.

You felt guilty for interrupting his reading, but at this point, the feeling was a tiny speck to add to your growing pile of culpability. The knock was gentle, and immediately pulled his eyes to meet yours.

“Mind if I come in for a minute?” You had to croak the words out, but still managed to keep a softness to your tone. You didn’t want to yell at him again, or come across like you were about to.

The look he gave you wasn’t one you weren’t expecting; he eyed you like he’d committed an unforgivable crime, or like you’d break if he didn’t hold you together. It gave you reassurance that this apology definitely needed to come out sooner than later.

Peter book–marked his place without looking, keeping his stare fixed on you while he nodded. “Please,” He gestured to the foot of the bed beside him, “Sit. I– uh, I was planning to find you and see if you were alright, but I didn’t want to interrupt your space.”

As you sat down beside him, a smile touched your lips at how thoughtful he was. “I appreciate that, but I–I owe you an apology, Peter..” You never broke your eye contact, but the look in your eyes grew more urgent, pleading. “I am so sorry for speaking to you that way, and–”

You cut yourself off at the sight of Peter waving his hands in dismissal. He mirrored the look in your eyes, “No, Y/N, I’m sorry. I never meant to make you feel that way. I don’t want you to feel like I’m here to replace you.” His words held a direness that yours should have. Your dad was right, Peter really was putting the gravity of this into his hands.

To stop his spiral, you touched his arm for a minute, “Peter, that wasn’t your fault. It was mine for assuming and unloading all of that shit onto you. And I’m sorry for that.”

His eyes alone begged you to let him win the argument. “I still could have–”

You cut him off, “Peter, it’s not your fault.” You tried to emphasize your point, noticing the way he read your expression. His eyes scanned every inch of your face, searching for what looked like a sign of your uncertainty. His lips parted to contribute his side of the argument, but one look from you shut his trap pretty quickly.

Peter’s shoulder’s eased, but his eyes still glistened with ambition. He wanted you to understand his perspective a little. “Did your dad tell you how nervous I was to meet you?”

That wasn’t what you were expecting. Your eyes widened a little, shaking your head in response. Peter Parker? Nervous to meet you? The way your dad talked about him didn’t set him up to be that way. Of course, seeing him in front of you changed your perception a little. “No, he didn’t.” You were honest.

He wet his lips, parting them with the warmest smile you’d ever set your eyes on. The laugh that spilt from them was melodic, laced with a bit of nerves. He rubbed a muscle on the back of his neck, suddenly choking up. “Yeah, I was pretty nervous.” His brow arched slightly, complimenting his grin photogenically. “I was nervous ‘cause Mister Stark’s always talking the world to me about his amazing daughter.” Peter’s smile grew in your direction, stirring a hurricane of butterflies through your stomach.

It felt like the two of you were in the midst of a staring contest; though, instead of the intense anticipation glistening in each other’s eyes, you mutually stared at each other in security. You’d both had the immense pressure of making good impressions toward the other on your shoulders.

Peter repositioned himself on the bed, now seated facing you. His legs were crossed beneath him, his knee a hair from touching yours. “You, Y/N, are not only his greatest accomplishment, but you’re his best friend.” His words spread like butter over every worry you’d had, melting away that crippling insecurity with it. “I think he wants to be you when he grows up.”

The laughs that bubbled up your throat brought attention to the tears brimming your eyes. You blinked them away, mirroring Peter’s earnest expression. “I can tell why my dad’s always talking about you.” You told him, “And here I was thinking you’d be some old ass dude living in his mother’s basement, but here we are.”

“And here I was thinking you wouldn’t be drop–dead gorgeous.” His cheeks were ablaze with crimson, sending a pink glow of your own to your complexion. “But, here we are.”

Your smile grew, rolling your eyes playfully at him. “Alright, casanova. Save it for the love letters.” It felt nice to share laughter like this with Peter. You were glad that you gave him a second chance. Not breaking eye contact, you slid off the bed and rose to your feet. “I’ll let you get back to your reading”

Peter watched you get up to go, looking a little disappointed. You were almost surprised, but likewise, both you and Peter hid the honesty of your feelings behind the curtains of a smile.

“You don’t have to. You could stay if you want.” He started, but a look flashed behind his eyes that was rather telling; he seemed to panic over his eagerness for your company. “Unless you don’t want to–”

Biting the inside of your cheek hurt, but it was the only way to hide how wide your smile grew. “I’d love to, but I need to finish that circuit board.” And thus, the idea struck you. “You doing anything later though?”

His brows pressed together in a curious way. “Not really. You planning something?”

“Yeah. My dad and I usually have movie nights tonight.” You took paces backwards towards the door, but stalled from the moment you’d have to part ways. “You should join us! It’s my turn to pick.”

The sight of his dimples made you realize just how much you’d grown fond of his smile. It was already getting difficult to leave his presence; you knew if you didn’t leave now, you probably never would.

“Well, then you better pick a good one, just for me.” He challenged. You’d make it your goal to satisfy his request.

If even possible, it felt like your grin grew. “I plan to.”

And that said, the three of you met in the home–theater and watched Jurassic Park together. You had Tony on your left geeking out over the CGI technology from the 80s, and Peter on his left geeking out about how accurate the movie was from the book. It made your film decision that much better. It also was the best movie night you’d had in a long while.

Perhaps your dad was right: you and Peter Parker really would get along great.

[authorkun]

[𝙎𝙪𝙞𝙘𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙡 𝙈𝙖𝙣𝙞𝙖𝙘] (001)

Jujutsu Kaisen x Male reader

Warning: Mentions of su!cide, gore, violence, and strong themes

"𝘿𝙖𝙢𝙣, 𝙝𝙞𝙜𝙝 𝙨𝙘𝙝𝙤𝙤𝙡𝙚𝙧𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙗𝙪𝙞𝙡𝙩 𝙙𝙞𝙛𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙡𝙮 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨."

A smooth honey like voice dripped with interest of the vessel that stood before him. The male's eyes casted down before traveling back up the first year's torso. He licked his lip at the sight with a smirk. 

"Oya? Oya? N/n-Chan where did you come from? You were supposed to be in Hyogo." A blindfolded sensei questioned. N/n, or better known as M/n sent a small wave at his underclassmen, who gaped at both his sensei and senpai with wide eyes. "Oh the other second-years would love this." M/n took out his phone and and started taking an array of photos of Megumi. 

"Anyways, I was, heard there was a SGP (special grade problem) going on. Thought I'd check it out. You too?" He lazily draped himself against the older. "The elders complained about putting my abilities to good use." Gojo chuckled remembering the annoying email from the secretary. "Anyways, who's this?" "Yuji Itadori sir!" The pinkette quickly bowed. A hearty laugh bubbled in M/n's throat at the formal honorific.  "Get up no need for that, cause a nice senpai like me cares for underclassman." The male proudly pointed to himself. 

 "M/n L/n. Say where is the cursed object anyways?" Itadori sweat dropped. "Well I ate it." "Damn the kid has balls." M/n bluntly stated making a certain raven haired sorcerer flustered at the vulgar statement. "So how's Sukuna, or whatever his face is?" The (e/c) orbs analyzed Itadori looking for any sign of the curse. "He's annoying, he keeps on talking." Tapping his head with his palm signaling the telepathic link. "10 seconds." 

"Huh?" "Come on back after 10 seconds." Gojo reiterated. "I dunno about this." "Don't worry I'm the strongest." M/n playfully rolling his eyes. "And if it gets out of hand, I'm stronger." "Megumi, hold onto this will ya." Gojo tossed a paper bag towards him. "Can you also hold onto this? It's killing my back." The second-year threw a heavy duffel bag Fushiguro's way, almost knocking him out. "What's this?" Megumi's eyes lingered on the white bag. "Kikufuku Mochi." His eyebrow twitched at the information. 'He was buying souvenirs, while people were dying?!'

"Aww Megumi they're not souvenirs. They're for the bullet train back." Sukuna was suddenly in the air about to pounce on the 'unsuspecting' male. "Behind you!" Fushiguro yelled worriedly. Gojo dodged getting close to the curse's ear. "Two of my students are watching so, I hope you don't mind me showing off." He turned sending a blow towards Sukuna's back, making him stumble. 'He's unbelievably fast. Not only that-.'  

"It doesn't matter what era it is, you guys are always a pain you stupid Jujutsu sorcerer! He dryly laughed. "But that doesn't matter to me." With a flick of his wrist chunks of concrete flew towards Gojo. Who when the dust cleared stood unscathed holding the rubble as nothing. "Should be about time." M/n clicked his tongue, while filing his nails next to Fushiguro. The markings on Itadori's body disappearing. "What a surprise! You can control it!" He yelled. "He's kind of annoying though." Itadori repeated. 

"It's a miracle that's the only side effect." With that, the older tapped his head knocking the first-year out. "Aww booooo I was looking forward to annoying Sasuki more." The M/n whined like a toddler throwing away his file. "What did you do?" Fushiguro asked ignoring his senpai. "He's knocked out." Gojo stated holding onto the passed out male. "I though you were smarter then that Megumiii." The two once again ignored the manic (h/c-ette). "If he wakes up and isn't possessed...he might have potential as a vessel." He reasoned. "Quick question what do I do with him?" M/n sweat dropped. "Even if he has potential, under Jujutsu regulations he must be executed..." He drawled off. "But I don't want to let him die!" Fushiguro finished with a determined look.  

"Is that a personal opinion?" M/n playfully teased. "Yes, a personal opinion. Please do something about it." "Hmm a precious student's request." Gojo scratched his chin in 'thought'. "Leave it to me, and your senpai!" He exclaimed. "So with that, let me reiterate...you're gonna be executed." The blindfolded teacher waved his hands around in finger guns. "This story doesn't make sense so far." Itadori grumbled. "Hey, Man, I tried. An execution is an execution, but I managed to suspend the sentencing."

"A suspended sentencing? So it's on hold now?" The pinkette questioned. "Yup. Let me explain from the top." Gojo went to grab something out of his pocket realizing it was gone. "Looking for this?" M/n's form came out of the shadows, holding up the shriveled appendage. "This look familiar?" Itadori raised a brow. "Another finger?" "Ding ding ding. You want a cookie or something?" M/n leaned on his sensei's shoulder aggravating him even more. "Its the same cursed object you so voluntarily consumed. There's 20 total, we're in possession of six." "Twenty? Oh, including both arms and legs." Nodding his head in understanding. "Wrong, Sukuna has four arms." M/n stated nonchalantly tossing the finger up for Gojo to blast towards the wall creating a small crater like hole. The finger looked unscathed. "As you can see, you can't destroy it. It's that powerful of a curse.

With every passing day it gets even stronger." The (h/c-ette) moved from his place wandering behind Itadori, the hot breath on his neck made himself shutter. "That's where you come in. You die, the curse in you dies as well." M/n moved back rocking back on his heels. "The Elders have a stick up their ass and wanted to kill you right away. My dear Gojo and I thought it be a waste for a pretty face like you to offed yet." 

A small pink flush dusted against Itadori's cheeks. "There's no guarantee that another vessel able of controlling of Sukuna will ever come around again. So... our proposal was, "if we're gonna kill him, why not after he takes in the rest of Sukuna". Killing two birds with one stone really. Your two choices right now are either to die now or wait to find the rest of Sukuna and die then." An intimidating aura surrounding M/n. 

The next day

"Who died?" M/n asked picking at his nails, feeling oddly uncomfortable around the place heavy with death and sadness. "My Grandpa,he was more of a dad I guess though." Itadori hung his head. "I see, sorry to bother you at a time like this." Gojo apologized sitting himself next to the male. "Are there a lot of casualties with curses like this?"

"This is a pretty uncommon circumstance...But if you're talking about potential damage, yes." In the corner of Gojo's eyes he could see M/n's hand start to tremor. "...Let's just say, you're lucky to die normally after an encounter with a curse. Finding a body torn in two is still a light death compared to the others..." M/n stare burned into the bench a few feet in front of them. Walking off as flashes of blood painting the walls continued replaying in his head. "What's wrong with him?" Itadori asked looking off towards where the male went off to. "Not many things are known about M/n. Supposedly during a special grade case, they had found a witness around the age of 7 standing in the middle of what was assumed his family. The report was hard to read not much about the kid except the crazed look in his eyes and the astronomical amounts of cursed energy spilling from his body. 

The case was left unfinished because they couldn't understand what exactly happened. The one account from the boy saying that it was a monster who killed his family. Of course when they checked there wasn't a sign of a curse. The elders shut the case down and took in the kid in, fear of his powers haunting them. From what I know, he was taught by the principal himself how to control his cursed abilities. When I was in my last year, I heard about an incident including the boy with a special grade. It had changed him from an outgoing and friendly person to a husk of one. He distanced himself and gained the liking of inducing pain on himself. He's strange that's for sure." A vision of a preteen M/n slitting his arms for an 'experiment'. 

He claimed the experiment was to figure out how many cuts he could endure before passing out. Itadori stared at the older with an opened mouth. An image of the bandaged male popped into his head. 'Bandages'. "When I saw him pass in the hallways smiling like no tomorrow, made me think if the incident had never happened to him..." 

"...He would have a normal life" he finished the other's sentence. "But that kind of thinking is common when you first get into the game. You learn how to ignore those thoughts. Those thoughts alone could drive a man insane. If you start investigating the remains of Sukuna, you'd probably some gruesome scenes, every sorcerer has their case that changes them wether it be for the best or the worst. Pick your hell." 

"If Sukuna is eliminated, will there be fewer people killed by curses?" Itadori's grandpa's words rung in his head. "Of course." Gojo nodded his head. "You got that other finger?" "Yeah." Gojo placed the object in his hand. Itadori took a second to study it. "Now that I look at it it is pretty disgusting." He said tossing the appendage into his mouth absent mindedly swallowing it with a gross gulp. 'That's one tenth of Sukuna, how will that sit?' Black marks appeared on his body before leaving as quickly as they came. "Blaughhh, that was so gross." The male wrapped a hand around his throat at the taste. 'He's able to control Sukuna without a problem, heh.' Gojo thought. "I take it you're prepared for what's to come?" "Not at all. I am wondering why I have to be executed though. But I know I can't leave this curse alone. It's final, I'm gonna eat the rest of Sukuna. That's all"

"Yahooo! I'm back!" An overly enthusiastic voice emerged. M/n ran over waving his hands around.  A bag slung around his shoulders. Something seemed off. An evident bruise starting to form around his neck peeking out from the loosely wrapped bandages.  A cut lip and a few more scrapes littering his face. "What happened?" M/n shrugged still smiling. "Just a fight, this delinquent looking guy said he had a bone to pick with me, he had his fun....and so did I~" He took out his phone, shoving it into both of their faces. Sure enough a buff looking male was in tears, tied up. "The old wasabi and mustard up the nose always works like a charm." M/n shoved the device back into his coat, before handing the paper bag over to Gojo who quirked his brow. 

"I went on a little trip into town and got you this~" The male's hands roamed around the bag pulling out a box. "I saw this delectable Mochi stand and turns out their family were from Sendai. What's the chance they made kikufuku? I got them for free since the owner was an old friend. Told 'em it was a gift for someone special." He winked at the end. Sukuna lowly growled barely loud enough for Itadori to hear. 'What's your problem?' 'Shut it brat.' Sukuna coldly snapped. 

"This is why you're my favorite second-year." Gojo chuckled as if he were a grade school girl. "Looks like it's shaping up to be a fun hell. Get your belongings together by the end of the day." He turned towards Itadori, Megumi now standing behind him. "We goin' somewhere?" "Tokyo." Fushiguro answered with a battered face. "Ah! My little Meg-Chan is back!" M/n attacked the poor male in a tackle like hug. Snuggling his face further into the first-year's chest. A red hue danced acrossed the ravenette's face, as Gojo secretly took pictures. 

Tokyo Metropolitan Jujutsu Technical School The walk to the school was quiet, the only noise being the light chatter being shared between the two with occasional comments from M/n, who's interest was glued to a small book in his hands.  The quietness of the curse had caught Itadori off guard, causing questions to form about his weird behavior. Sukuna seemed to keep his gaze fixed onto the object held by the other. 'The book he's holding..' Itadori's eyes flickered over to the small piece of literature questioning it's importance. "What are you reading?" 

"Just an old book I'm rereading." The male had answered turning to the next page. "If you have already read it why are you reading it again?" His curiosity had gotten the better of him. "A good book never gets old no matter how many times you read it." What confused Itadori, is why Sukuna was so fixated on the older. A soft thud sounded out as M/n closed the book, placing it back into his pocket. "Anyways, you're about to have an interview with the principal." "The principal?!" He exclaimed confused. 

 "There's a high probability he could reject you so make sure you go all out." M/n said once again picking at his nails in amusement. "What then! Immediate execution?" He snapped making the former quirk a brow at his statement. A small mouth formed onto his cheek. 

"So you're not the boss? Pathetic, a hierarchy that isn't based off of strength is worthless." Itadori slapped a hand over his cheek, keeping Sukuna from further speaking. "I'm sorry about him, he pops out." "You have quite the amusing body now." M/n cheekily said. Another small mouth popped out, this time located on his hand. "I owe you a favor you know."

"Not again!" 

"Once I make this brat's body my own, you'll be the first one I kill. The male next to you will once again be my king when I take my crown back." M/n crossed his arms in confusion. 

"It's an honor to be targeted by Sukuna himself, but what do you mean 'your king once again'? 

"Have you ever wondered what caused the incident ten years ago? And why the Elders were so keen on raising him?" The mouth disappeared leaving both Gojo and M/n astounded at the new information.

 'How does Sukuna know about that, and why did the elders drop the case as if it were nothing.' "You wouldn't do that would you senpai?" A hopeful smile painted on Itadori's face. "...." The words couldn't form as M/n stood wide-eyed at the curse's words.

  'I wouldn't, would I?...'

Next

[therealvinelle]

Hi, love your metas and your fic. I think you mentioned somwhere that at the end of BD Aro was trying to prevent the fight. What were his motives? According to Edward, the Volturi are cowards, but I didn't get this feeling. Caius was begging for a battle, the guard vocally proclaimed willingness to die for the cause... hell, Jane had to be restrained from running to Bella and punching her in the throat. And I find it unlikely that their leader is less brave than them. Explain Aro's brain pls

Thank you so much! That’s really nice of you to say. And sorry for the late answer.

And explain Aro’s brain, whew. That is a very big question with a very long answer and this post will be a manifesto by the time I’m done. But you wanted Aro’s brain explained so manifesto it is.

So, before we go anywhere I have to make the distinction between Aro of the books and Aro of the movies. Those two are different people.

Starting with appearance, because casting does a lot for me and if a big deviation is made it better be like Ruth Wilson as Marisa Coulter, which is to say it better fit the character. Also, disclaimer, I think most of Twilight was miscast, and especially the Volturi. I’m forever dying at Caius looking like Lucius Malfoy. However, this is an Aro post, so we’re highlighting Aro.

Aro of the books is a twenty-something Greek with skin that has petrified and eyes covered in a milky sort of film, which totals to him looking perfect, as all vampires do, yet frail. When he walks it looks like he’s gliding. This is an otherworldly, ancient, inhuman being. He’s energetic and excitable, yes, but if anything that should add to how very other he is. Casting Michael Sheen is a clear signal that the movies were going in a completely different direction with Aro. Sheen is a great actor who played what he was given perfectly, but what he was given was a very different character.

In New Moon the book, Aro first rejects Edward request because this is Carlisle’s gifted son, and more, this is not what the Volturi do. They are not hitmen. It’s just a big no all around.

Bella enters, and the Aro she meets is a very polite and gracious man who’s delighted to see the human still alive, and pleased Carlisle’s son won’t be suicidal anymore. However, Edward fully intended to step into the sunlight in the middle of Volterra, specifically to provoke the Volturi, and he has broken the law with Bella. Further, Edward makes it clear that he fully intends to walk out of Volterra with his human still human, and that she’ll die of old age if he gets his way. Edward’s contempt of the law could not be more clear. However, Alice shows Aro that Bella’s fate is sealed, she turns or she dies. The law will be upheld. Aro is glad to hear it, and lets the Cullens all go home.

All in all, it’s a very tense occasion where Edward has put Aro in a difficult position, because he’s trying to force him to kill his best friend’s son, and Aro goes “YES THANK GOD” when Alice finally gives him an out.

New Moon of the movies was not this. Starting with the flashback (because I’m being thorough), Aro executes a lowly criminal himself.  I object to that, I think that’s a menial task and Aro doing it himself made the Volturi look less regal, not more. Cut to the present day, Aro rejects Edward’s request because he doesn’t want to waste his gift. We get the whole meeting with Bella, and Aro… well I don’t know why he does any of the things he does. This guy never mentions his friendship to Carlisle, tries to kill our plucky heroes three times in the space of one minute (one, gives Felix the order to kill Bella, stopped by Edward. Two, moves to decapitate Edward, stopped by Bella. Three, he’s about to eat Bella, stopped by Alice), and when he lets them go it feels terribly convenient.

This was a guy written to be the villain of the series, and it showed.

Cut to Breaking Dawn part I’s ending scene, and while I love the song choice for the scene, and fully agree that Aro considers misspelling Carlisle’s name to be a capital offense, the scene itself… we are presented with a villainous, power-hungry megalomaniac who’s just waiting to strike against the Cullens.

We then get Breaking Dawn part II, and I haven’t seen that movie in years but I remember the fight scene well enough. Aro kills Carlisle with the biggest grin on his face, and gives the go-ahead to his Volturi to kill the surviving Cullens and their witnesses.

Contrast that with canon, where Aro’s first words to Carlisle are «Nothing would make me happier than preserving your life today». Now, he’s making it very clear that this meeting will most likely end with Carlisle’s death, but he’s not happy about it. He’s certainly not going to kill him with a smile on his face and laughter in his heart.

The movies needed a hammy villain, and that’s what Michael Sheen played. It is not who Aro is, at all. And he’s not the only character this happened to, but again, this is an Aro post so I’m not going to start raging like Don Corleone about what they did to my boys.

So, with the movies firmly expelled from the post, let’s look at the Twilight series from Aro’s point of view.

Or, rather, we’ll have to start earlier because Aro’s decisions throughout the series are pretty clearly motivated by Carlisle. And that means considering, “why is Carlisle so important, anyway?”

Consider these things: one, Aro is gifted with the power of knowing every single thought a person has ever had. He knows your soul. Two, Aro is the leader of the supernatural world, he has been for over a thousand years.

How many friends does a person with that power and in that position have?

Three, who does Aro even come into contact with?

Starting with number three, for Aro it’s going to be 1) criminals, 2) Volturi guard hopefuls, 3) Weirdos like Laurent who are wasting Aro’s time.

(“But what about the guard!” Well, while we observe close interpersonal relationships between Aro and Jane, and Aro and Renata, and one can assume Corin to be close to the wives, the distinction between Volturi coven and Volturi guard remains. The guards are servants, in some cases beloved servants, but servants nonetheless. It would be inappropriate and weird for Aro to start slumming it with Demetri and Felix)

So, Aro doesn’t get out much, which brings us to point two. The people he does meet, and who are willing to entertain a friendship with the Volturi leader, are going to be people who want something. And that might work for some rulers, Louis XIV built Versailles specifically to make his subjects do this for him, but he had something to gain politically from that. Aro does not, his power is supreme without a need to tolerate brown nosers. More, with his own and Marcus’ gifts, he’ll know right away that he’s being used for power. He would get nothing out of it.

Finally point one, Aro’s gift. Say that we have a vampire who’s not a weirdo and who thinks Aro’s a cool dude. Well, the question now is, who would ever want a person in their life who knows all there is to know about them? I wouldn't want anybody to know every thought I've ever had, I certainly would never seek out a person to know me that deeply when I could just go find normal people to be friends with instead. Not to mention how incredibly unequal such a friendship would be.

In short, I don’t think Aro has any friends.

Enter Carlisle a very amiable person who cherishes Aro for his personality, and doesn’t mind having his mind read. Aro just found a unicorn. Carlisle on his end likes Aro so much that he lives with him for decades. Even if you want to read their relationship as platonic, that’s still a very strong friendship.

Point being that Carlisle is unbelievably precious to Aro, and so very unique. Aro has lived for over three millennia, and never met anyone like this before. There won’t be another Carlisle.

This in turn makes him willing to stretch as far as he can to preserve that friendship and, as the plot thickens, keep Carlisle alive.

Fast forwards to 2006, and Aro is sitting in Volterra minding his own business when Carlisle’s son walks into town demanding his own execution. He has not committed any crimes. Not only is assisted suicide not something the Volturi even do, but this would ruin Aro’s friendship with Carlisle. Even if Carlisle was miraculously understanding of Aro killing his son (which I can’t imagine he would be), this would never leave the air between them. Carlisle could never be around him again after something like that.

So, Aro turns down Edward’s request. “Stupid Volturi man ruining my dramatic suicide, I’ll show him who’s boss!” Edward replies, and runs shirtless into the sunlight. I’m sure Aro was just dying, you had “The Sound of Silence” playing as he stared into nothingness because how is this happening to him. A whiplash of an hour later, Bella is alive again, Aro is happy, we can be done with this now, right? Right?!

No, Edward says, we cannot be done with this. He’s still refusing to turn Bella.

And so we get that whole New Moon exchange where Aro very tellingly shoves the part where Edward WALKED INTO THE SUNLIGHT IN VOLTERRA under the carpet and out of the conversation (for comparison: Irina is executed for false testimony and Bree for breaking a law she didn’t know existed), and he even allows Bella to leave human when he could easily have bitten her himself to keep the Cullens honest. This guy went out of his way to be lenient and show the Cullens good faith.

And then a few months later Irina walks into Volterra, bearing memories of what is unmistakably a Cullen immortal child.

Aro may care for Carlisle, but this is the guy who killed his baby sister so he’d still have Marcus’ gift. He will bend far, very far, for those he cares about, but he will not break. It’s duty above love, Volturi above Aro’s personal preferences. An immortal child is not an offense that can be tolerated, and so it’ll be Didyme 2: Aro Kills Someone He Loves Boogaloo.

By now I think it should be quite clear why I think Aro was trying to prevent the fight. Battle would have meant Carlisle’s certain death.

(And that’s even assuming the Volturi won the fight. With Bella there, there was a chance the Volturi wouldn’t prevail. But even before Bella started showing off, Aro was very much hoping this wouldn’t be another Didyme situation.)

[lydias--stiles]

THE MANY CRUSHES OF LUKE PATTERSON... AND THE ONE THAT STUCK

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

1982

Luke Patterson's first crush ever was Haley Martin. He adored the colour of her hair — like the clementines his mom bought — and the way she finger-painted, enough for his four year old eyes to stare at her in awe.

He watched her make mud pies in the sandbox from the monkey bars, only to ruin them to get a rise out of her. He couldn't understand why she didn't like him the way he did, so he nagged his mom to explain.

"Teasing girls should be fun for them too, sweetheart," she soothed. "This Haley clearly didn't like it."

He blinked. "Huh?"

Her smile stayed warm, similar to hot chocolate and whenever grandpa conjured candies from behind his ear. "Why don't you share your grapes with her tomorrow? I'm sure she'll like that."

His nose scrunched up. "Why?"

"Because it's sweet, Luke."

"I don't get that," he shrugged. "But I'll try."

The next day, he sat beside her during storybook time and that seemed to help a little already. By the time it was lunch, her mood was lifted, which excited him too, and urged him to offer the grapes.

It earned him a featherlight kiss on the cheek.

Luke squeaked in surprise, flushing a firetruck red, to which she giggled and plopped another grape in her mouth.

Three days later, his crush was gone from his mind and he began sharing his grapes with his new friend Reginald instead.

1986

"Can you ask Jessica what she thinks of me?" Luke hurriedly whispered, eyes flickering between Reggie and the girl from across the courtyard.

Normally, Luke Patterson exuded confidence. The resident class clown, always opening his jaw to react to the teacher without raising his hand, catching fights with stupid classmates, sneaking into dad's stationwagon to create mixtapes.

Fearlessness was his freaking middle name. (It was actually Beck, but whatever. He wished it was something cool like Duran Duran though.)

But when it came to girls... he got so nervous. Because they were girls! He didn't understand them! They hated rambunctious boys and only listened to stupid pop music and blabbered about how they stole makeup from their sisters.

Jessica, however, somehow made his heart flutter and his stomach twist up. She just looked cool in her dungarees and she had a pretty smile and she didn't wear that overwhelming, sugary perfume that was now popular.

Reggie snickered, in the way only eight year old boys could. "You liiiiiiike her!"

"No!" He scowled. "I–I'm just curious."

"Sure," he drawled, but then shrugged in agreement, the oversized leather jacket rustling on his shoulders. He stole it from his older brother after he saw him kissing (!!!) some girl and figured it held some magic to impress the ladies with.

"Just do it!"

With a dramatic flourish, the boy left their hiding spot, Luke lurking around the corner of the alcove to watch. Jessica looked up from her hard work of creating friendship bracelets and smiled at Reggie.

Oh, gosh. She was pretty.

A minute later, a sheepish Reg slowly crawled back to him, cheeks red and fiddling with the zipper of his jacket.

Luke grabbed his shoulders, urgent. "What did she say?"

"Uh... well..."

"C'mon, dude!"

Reggie sighed. "She... likes me, buddy. Sorry."

His hopeful face crashed into one of devestation, quickly covering it up with a laugh and a squeeze of the shoulder. Oh, man, what would Steven Tyler do?

"That– that's dope!"

In the end, Reggie and Jessica were boyfriend and girlfriend for a week while he wrote an angry poem about how stupid dungarees were.

Huh... it was surprisingly good.

1988

"Hey, Luke," Gwenn greeted, shy, tucking her hands in her Camp Wacky Rocka hoodie. "I really liked that song you made about your guitar."

Jumping from the tree branch to the ground, Luke dazzled her with an appreciative smile. From above, Reggie and their new friend Alex watched on curiously.

"Thanks!"

Who would've thought that summer camp would be the first time he made a real, girl friend! Gwenn was super cool and she played the saxophone and she liked Joan Jett and her hair was all curly and big and it reminded him of pretty clouds.

Looking over her shoulder, he noticed a gaggle of girls staring at them. Like they were waiting.

Gwenn stared at him. "Can you close your eyes?"

He frowned. "Why?"

"Just 'cause."

Whatever. Maybe she wanted to show him something cool and would stick it in his hand. Complying, he closed his eyes and impatiently waited, bouncing on his heels.

"So?"

Suddenly, he felt a light, warm touch on his mouth and — oh! She was kissing him!

Luke staggered back in surprise, gawking at a blushing Gwenn as she squeaked a sorry and ran back to the now giggling and screeching girls. They ran away like a flock of birds.

It was a dare! His first kiss, stolen by a dare!

His boys jumped down beside him, awed.

Reggie hollered. "You kissed Gwenn!"

"I don't get it," Alex muttered.

Luke's face twisted up in a sour expression. Camp Wacky Rocka should be all about the music and becoming legends and Gwenn ruined it!

He stuck his tongue out. "Whatever. Let's go to the mess hall!"

1989

When Luke turned eleven, he kissed someone for real.

His birthday party was at the arcade, loud chatter and robotic sounds clashing together in an amazing cacophony. His parents hated the place, which is why Luke loved it.

Of the twenty guests, Yasmine clapped the loudest after he finished his song with the boys — Math Is For Losers! — and grabbed his hand as they walked to a duel game.

Luke felt fuckin' giddy the entire time. (Freakin' in front of his parents, fuckin' with friends.) The swoop in his stomach, his cheeks stretched into a wide beam.

Freshly eleven and the king of the arcade, he boldly asked if he could kiss her.

She smiled, her purple headband glittering in the neon lights, and nodded.

It was short and warm and her lips tasted like pink lemonade and sour gummies and it gave him an entirely new buzz. It was exciting.

He kissed her a couple more times the days after, eager and curious, until she claimed she was now only interested in twelve year old boys.

Since Luke now held the record of most kisses between him, Alex and Reggie, he wasn't too bothered by it. They shook hands, complimented each other on the kissing, and that was that.

1992

"Are you or are you not my boyfriend?" Olivia bit, crossing her arms.

Luke sighed, lazy gaze drifting from her to his band waiting by their bikes. Damn, he thought having a girlfriend would be way easier. Why was she so tense?

"I am," he said. "Why do you think I'm not?"

"Because you ignore me, like, all the time!" Pouting, she fiddled with the hem of her tartan skirt. "And now you're going to be with your band!"

He shrugged. "You can come with us and listen, if you want."

Luke met Olivia this year as deskmates in French class. Her raven hair was long and thick and her lips were all shiny from lip gloss and maybe he got a little cocky, thinking he could be dating the hottest girl of freshman year, so he naturally asked her out.

Maybe he should've considered beforehand whether they had anything in common, but he'd always been the overzealous type. And besides... she was a good kisser.

She scoffed. "That's not any better. Whatever. I'll just hang with Tina and Priscilla then. Laters!"

Plopping a kiss on his lips, she turned around and stalked to her whispering friends. Luke puffed, adjusted the beanie and made his way to the boys.

Girls were confusing.

"I bet dating boys is easier," Alex mused. "Like, equally terrifying, but also... easier. I think. Maybe."

Bobby laughed. "How's the girlfriend, Luke?"

"Ha ha," he deadpanned. "Let's go. I got this new song, Crooked Teeth, and it's a fucking banger!"

Olivia broke up with him after Sunset Curve's first, official gig at the arcade with the explanation that he loved music more than her. He never loved her to begin with, so maybe that was the problem.

She made out with Bobby that same night.

Holy shit, man. He supposed that bitter feeling at the sight of them tasted like rock 'n roll, the one thing he actually craved.

What a funny, funny feeling. (He wrote a hell of a lot of songs about it after. He never quite looked at Bobby the same way either.)

1995

"Hey, Maisie." Leaning against the locker beside the girl, he shot her a million dollar smile. "You comin' to our gig tonight? It's at The Orpheum."

Maisie was fucking awesome. Always in short, flowery dresses and fishnet tights and thick eyeliner like a rockstar, always listening to something new on her walkman. She came from a rich family, but that didn't hinder them from becoming friends.

Her jaw fell slack in awe, him instantly gaining more confidence. Ducking his head to meet her eye, he leaned a little closer. He knew damn well what he was doing, and he got a thrill every time it worked.

"Really?" She gasped. "That's awesome! I'll so be there!"

"Sweet," he grinned. "And stay after too."

A brow quirked up, intrigued. "Why?"

He shrugged. "Just 'cause."

"Right," she drawled. "Nothing is 'just because' with you, Luke."

"And that's why you gotta stay," he teased, nudging her shoe with his. "To find out."

If they rocked that gig and he felt like a fucking legend, he hoped it would end with the two of them hooking up. He wasn't interested in dating — having learned his lesson after Olivia — and he knew she wasn't either, but she was fun.

And that was the most important to him: to have fucking fun. Luke Patterson was here for a good time, not a long time.

And if nothing happened between him and Maisie, then he'd still feel like a legend. In a couple of hours, he was going to play at The Orpheum! How gnarly was that?!

2022

Twenty-seven years later, Luke was still seventeen years old. While he preferred to not question the science behind ghostly activities — he flunked physics anyway — he was happy that he froze at this age.

Because Julie was seventeen, too.

And, man. He was madly in love with her.

He loved everything, from the babyhairs curling around her ears, to her voice and compassionate soul, to her beautiful smile, all the way to her cute, doodled sneakers.

Her epic music taste, her snark, the way she always found his gaze, the way she finished his lyrics, the way she always knew what to say to make him feel better.

His heart melted to a flickering candle whenever she hugged him, a raging wildfire erupting between every kiss. He was a fool for her.

"Stop moving," she giggled, one hand coming up to hold his chin.

He grinned, "Sorry, Jules."

Shifting closer, she dabbled more glitter on his cheeks. They were playing at a black-light club tonight, so Julie and Flynn bought all the glow in the dark makeup available at the store for the occasion.

They looked ridiculous in daylight, Julie's weirdly pink lipstick claiming all his attention, but he knew they'd look fucking cool once the lights went down.

"You want to watch a movie after the gig?" she whispered.

Luke rolled his eyes, playful. "You're gonna fall asleep."

"Yeah." With a bashful tilt of the shoulder, she leaned in closer. "But then you'll be with me."

"Julie! How scandalous," he teased, though his chest swelled at the thought of having some alone time, some cuddle time, with Julie.

"So?"

Murmuring a yes, he closed the little distance to kiss her, sealing the deal, only for her to chase after him — an attempt to wipe the lipstick stain off his lips.

"Nah, keep it." A smirk grew. "So the people know."

She tsked. "Idiot."

"You like it."

"I'm still taking it off though, seeing as you're supposed to be a hologram," she pointed out. "But... you can kiss my lipstick away after the show."

He sighed, dreamy. "I love you."

Finishing his glitter and removing the stain, she dazzled him with a satisfied smile. "Love you too."

She rose up from the couch and went to search for Reggie, the boy likely with Carlos. For a moment, Luke was alone in the studio, allowing himself to sink into that warm, fuzzy feeling.

No matter how many blunders he went through with girls — Haley, Jessica, Gwenn, Yasmine, Olivia, Maisie — they all prepared him, in one way or the other, for Julie.

To not only recognise when an awesome girl was standing right in front of him, but also how to treat her — because Julie Molina deserved the fucking world.

Even if that world now included the supernatural.

Whatever. They were all a little crazy.

💌💌💌💌💌💌💌💌

@bluefirewrites @blush-and-books @pink-flame @ourstarscollided @constantly-singing @unsaid-emily @willexx

[omiscurls]

omi doesn’t like flowers

sakusa kiyoomi x gn!reader fluff

 cw: the reader has a little sibling, i hope nobody minds, there’s one line of very slightly implied nsfw, you won’t even notice

meant for kiyoomi’s birthday! happy b-day to my favorite boy <3 

one of the first things you’ve learnt about your boyfriend, even before your relationship started, is that he rarely shared personal information with anyone. he’d go as far as put up a fake birthday on his social media to avoid the awkward wishes and tons of yet another gifts from fans he so didn’t like going through. apart from that, there was a lot of weird things going on with birthdays, in his opinion: for instance people automatically thinking about zodiac sign or assuming other things, insisting to have a party, (a surprise one was his biggest nightmare) and a whole lot of other stuff he found appalling.

so it was just simply easier to say his birthday is “mid november” and get on with his life as if he didn’t just straight up lie. and truth be told, many times had you heard that “oh, in summer” or “right before christmas” before you got to know the truth. it wasn’t that easy on its own, but ever since his first little white lie, you knew he wasn’t true with you, and kept insisting, until he finally pulled you to the side and told you his real date of birth, the one only komori, atsumu, and, as he used to say, “unfortunately” his family knew.

march 20th was the date, and since you wanted to tease him, a grin appeared on your face before you mumbled “so a pisces, huh?” and earned a glare so cold and deadly, you visibly shivered before apologizing.

the next thing you learned about him and his birthday, was that he was picky about gifts. which went well with that “i’m an old fashioned gentleman” facade, because he could just say “oh, you don’t have to buy me anything. your company will be enough” with a slight smile he’d practice for years, and people thought he was just being humble and polite. spoiler alert: he wasn’t. he just didn’t want to deal with his own pickiness, and explaining to people what precisely would he like to get was too much trouble, and took away the magic of it even for someone as blunt as kiyoomi sakusa.

it’s not like birthdays were such a big deal for him, anyway, he didn’t need any gifts or parties to celebrate the fact that he just got one year older. what was so fun about that? but like the pain in the arse you were, you kept asking him what he wanted for the occassion way before he asked you out, and he hated it, but not more than he hated the way his heart jumped at the possibility of getting something you spent your time on. 

the first year of your friendship, you got to know the basic thing: omi doesn’t like gifts. gifts make him uncomfortable, he didn’t know what to say, how to act, what to do with it... does he open it right then and there, or wait, but why would he immediately thank someone if he doesn’t even open it? schroedinger’s cat: if he doesn’t open it, it might as well be thin air inside the box.

it was confusing, and weird. you also learnt that it was all caused by the fact that no one was in the house to celebrate young omi’s birthday back in his childhood days, since his parents were working and his siblings long away in college, so he just assumed it was a holiday to be overlooked and not dwelled too much on, and got so used to it, that now it bothered him to be in the center of attention for once. 

the third thing you learnt that year: it was almost impossible to find him a good enough gift, at least from your perspective. you spent literal hours at the store, looking at the different things he might’ve wanted, but nothing caught your eye. you called all his friends, yet he hadn’t mentioned the thing he’d like to anyone, not even komori. so you decided you’d go with instinct and remembered one cold morning when he showed up to practice grumpier than usual, and when he was asked what’s wrong, he answered:

“i woke up late and didn’t have time to make coffee”, half mumbling, half actually speaking, eyes too tired to be annoyed, legs slowly sweeping one before another as if he was forced to come here. And that’s where you got your idea. 

His first birthday with you, being his 21st, had started terribly, because it was wishes from his family. He’d told you multiple times he’d rather have them forget that send those copied off the internet lines that mean less than a “go fuck yourself” 

later on atsumu insisted or telling everyone and it took poor omi more than twenty minutes to convince him not to, and as both the setter and the spiker weren’t in their top moods nor form, MSBY lost a match they had that day. so all he wanted to do march 20th 2017 when he came home was to lay flat on his couch and play with his dog’s fur while watching a crappy TV show. he most definitely didn’t expect you sitting in front of his apartment’s door, tired, almost asleep. 

he sighed, approching you and slightly nudging your foot with his, making you shake your head and look up. 

“you’re back!” you said with a smile, and he raised an eyebrow. 

“and you look like a homeless person” he responded upsentmindedly, avoiding you to reach the door lock. only after you got up did he see a small package you held behind your back. “it’s not a right day to be celebrating me, y/n” he added, opening his apartment’s door and letting you in with a hand gesture. you went inside, not for the first time ever, but every time the feeling was the same, intimidating and cold. 

“why do you think that?” you said, taking off your shoes and putting them on a rack, and turning around to see him navigate you to the bathroom. you placed your bag and the gift on the floor before following his steps. 

“didn’t you see the match? i fucked up big time” he chuckled ironically, looking at himself in the mirror, and you could witness the disappointment and anger in his eyes. 

“so every time you guys win and you get the credit, you say that volleyball is a team sport, but if you loose, suddenly it’s your fault?” you smirked, but to your surprise he nodded. 

“precisely”. 

“well, regardless, it’s a minor set back. you’re still the best they make” you tried to cheer him up, but only received an eye roll in return. “aaaand, you’re a birthday boy today!”

“don’t remind me” he sighed, walking over to the kitchen to see what he can make for dinner for himself and his uninvited guest, meanwhile you grabbed your gift and walked up right behind him, tapping his shoulder lightly. 

“happy 21″ you whispered, a slight, soft smile on your lips, as you handed him the package. he looked at you with a tired look in his eyes. 

“you know i’m not the biggest fan of gifts” 

“just open it, grumpy face” you whined, and he gently took it from you, placing it on the counter and carefully unwraping it, to see a thermal mug. he sent you a questioning look, before you explained “you were complaining about not having enough time to drink coffee before leaving, right? well now you don’t have to drink it before leaving” 

there was silence for a long while before he looked up from the mug and gave you the softest smile you’ve ever seen. “that’s so thoughtful of you” he said, and laughed a tiny bit, probably to cover his emotion, which obviously didn’t work “thank you.”

omi likes thoughtful gestures. 

over the second year of your friendship, as he and his career gained more recognition from the public, he was “forced”, as he’d reffer to it, to share such a personal information that is his birthday date. the managers always claimed that it’s not a big deal, that it’s just gonna be added to the oficial page and his wikipedia, but judging from the amount of gifts atsumu, bokuto and hinata always received, he had his reason to doubt that. 

and as it turned out, he was right. 

because starting from march 10th, his personal mailbox as well as the oficial MSBY’s mailbox has been FLOODED with different things that he really had no energy to go over. and so, he invited one of his best friends to help. 

so it was late at night on march 19th, and you were both sitting on the floor of his apartment, a mess of ripped wrapping paper all around you, loads of different stuff laying on the table, as you still had a lot of things to open. 

“what even is the point in sending presents to someone you’ve never met? i mean less to them than their neigbour’s dog and yet i’m the one getting gifts? this is messed up” he kept on complaining, opening another package. 

“it’s called being famous, sakusa-kun. you mean very much to people you’ve never met, because your journey to where you are now inspires them to keep going on their path until they reach their dreams” you said with a smile, confident it’ll ease his worries, but it didn’t. 

“don’t know if i consider being in the Jackals my dream, though”

“you mean, you don’t think being a key player in a division one team is not a dream come true?” you asked, shocked. 

“no, no, of course i think it is, i’d never thought i’d reach this far, but, there’s more things to be done, it’s not like i’m an accomplished person just yet” 

that, you found interesting. 

“really? than what are your dreams, sakusa?” you asked in a low voice, eyes fixed on his face, as he focused on reading a letter in his hands. 

“national team” he murmured “MVP, a golden medal, a legacy that goes beyond just me” he opened up as if it was nothing, as if he was talking about his grocery list “but that all wouldn’t mean a thing if i were there alone, though. i’ve received plenty awards and mvp’s over the few years that i played, but i guess what would really matter, and make everything else worth remembering, would be... having someone be proud of me, i guess”

you felt your heart getting soft and fuzzy at the confession, wanting to respond, before he handed you the note he was silently reading. 

“this is a poem, y/n, a POEM! what the hell, i don’t even understand what’s going on there” he whined, throwing his head back to rest on the couch seat, as you giggled, reading the note. 

“it’s nice” you said in a high-pitched tone, pushing down a laugh. 

“it’s too... sophisticated” he uttered, looking at you, a tired look in his eyes. “that’s my mother’s thing, to be sophisticated, i like simpler wishes, they’re easier to believe” 

omi doesn’t like fancy words.

you nodded, but before you could say anything, your phone rang, and both of you looked at the screen. the hour on display marked midnight, and as the alarm ranged, the words “omi’s b-day!!!” appeared on the screen. he smiled subconsciously, noticing how you always address him as “sakusa” or “sakusa-kun” but the notif in your phone stated “omi”. 

“looks like it’s the 20th already, birthday boy” you grinned, turning off the alarm. 

“don’t call me that, what am i, six or something?” 

you decided to ignore the comment, and smiled at him warmly before speaking, almost under your own breath:

“happy 22, sakusa. i wish you only to be here to hear me say happy 23 next year. and say so with pride.”

his eyes appeared foggy and glossy, but it was probably fault of poor lighting and tiredness. 

“why stop at 23?” he asked, before standing up, and offering you his hand to pick you up, too. 

omi likes very real wishes. 

over the third year of your friendship you became very close. ever since that night on his living room floor, both of you couldn’t wrap your minds about anything other than each other. neither of you oblivious idiots found out what it was about, but day after day and month after month it was harder and harder to spend time apart. 

before he could notice, sakusa always tried to find you in the crowd before serving, and that’s how he always used up most of his time. once, he even heard ushijima complain “how much longer are you going to take? be a man and beat me without your good luck charm!” 

his good luck charm, huh?

you kinda liked the sound of that. 

you also found yourself texting him every random thought that came to your head, sending pictures of everything, becasue you wanted to share as much of your life as possible, meeting up whenever you could and facetiming whenever you couldn’t. 

it all started to go downhill when atsumu, bokuto and hinata started noticing. noticing the way he’d smile at his phone, the way he’d wink, smile, tease, joke, speak, even the way his eyes wondered when left unfocused, and a dreamy look covered his vision. 

and they started to tease, and joke, and make his life all more difficult, just because “omi has a crush!”

because he didn’t. right? he didn’t have a crush on you, for sure, and it only annoyed him, how childish they were about it, how insufferable. they got on his nerves so bad that he stopped responding to all the messages, stopped smiling, joking around, and all, just to prove his point, 

his point he knew was no longer standing. 

and so atsumu would ask, after one of their practices, “hey omi, is your lucky charm picking you up? some birthday dinner, maybe?” he’d nudge his side with an elbow, raising his eyebrows. 

“i don’t know” he mumbled “and stop calling them that”. the brunette kept looking for something in his bag, just to avoid atsumu’s tiring, curious glance. 

“fine then, how about your significant other?” he continued teasing. it’s not like sakusa would hate that scenario, of course he wouldn’t, yet his mind kept spiraling - what if you came in and heard that? what if you assumed he was calling you that behind your back?

what if you didn’t feel the same?

“stop butting in my relationships for once, miya! how many times am i supposed to tell you i’m not in any way romantically involved with them? i don’t even like them that much!” he lied, straight in his best friend’s face, fed up with all the jokes and smirks behind his back, and judging from atsumu’s shocked expression, and the color running away from his face, it worked. 

“what, don’t you have anything to say to me now?” he kept going, before atsumu shook his head, and pointed behind kiyoomi’s back wordlessly. the spiker raised an eyebrow, turning around to see you, in the flash, eyes wide open, a tiny little package in your hands, wrapped so neatly in colorful paper, with a little bow tie at the top. 

even from a distance he could already half see, half imagine tears prickling your eyes before you smiled sadly, dropped the box from your hand and let it fall to the floor, and began walking out of the gym room. 

“no, no no, y/n, wait!” he started shouting out, but your ears seemed deaf to his pleas, as he ran up to the door you just walked through, leaving atsumu alone, but with a condescending smile. 

“i don’t like them that much my ass, omi-kun” he whispered to himself before walking over to grab his things. 

meanwhile sakusa ran out to the reception room of the stadium, but as it turned out, it was filled with fans waiting for them all to come out, so they could wish him happy birthday, and it seemed impossible to get through the crowd and reached you, especially considering you were already at the exit door. 

he looked around himself and noticed all the people, how many of them were there, and how close to him, and got paralyzed in place, wanting to move, or disappear, that’d be for the best, and yet he couldn’t even move one foot. 

soon enough he felt a hand on his shoulder, guiding him back inside, his savior apologizing to the public.

“sorry guys, we have one more thing to go through! he’ll be out shortly” atsumu laughed off, before closing the door and handing omi the gift you left. 

the spiker mindlessly opened it, only to find out a spotify code inside, put in between a glass frame. he took out his phone from the bag and scanned it with his app, gasping audiably when the page loaded. 

lay back in the arms of someone by smokie showed up on his screen, and a smile crawled up his lips before he remembered how badly he fucked this up a second ago. 

he narrowed his eyebrows before looking up to find the blond setter’s eyes. 

“atsumu” his friend’s eyes widened in surprise upon hearing his first name, instead of surname “is there a back exit from here?” 

atsumu miya smirked. 

“bet ya there is, mr i-fucked-up-big-time” he answered, theatrically offering his hand, before taking the lead. 

you on the other hand, came home peacefully, although hot tears were streaming silently down your cold cheeks as you entered the apartment’s door and looked at the calendar, showing the date of march 20th. in a sudden wave of aggression you ripped it off, knowing that there’s nothing to be so pressed about: he had no duty of feeling the same way towards you, why would you even expect it?

you went on with your day, ordering takeout for dinner, snuggling up on your couch and rewatching a series, not granting your thoughts access to yourself, and it was really going well, until you heard the doorbell ring. 

“nobody’s home” you yelled, assuming it was either atsumu or bokuto on their way to cheer you up, and they’ll probably let themselves in as soon as they hear your voice, but that didn’t happen. instead, the doorbell kept on ringing. “ugh, just come in!” 

they didn’t come in, so you lifted yourself off the couch and walked over to the door, opening it and gasping a tiny bit when instead of your dumbass friends holding McDonald’s you saw a one hundred and ninety two centimeters tall figure of a man, struggling to catch his breath, leaning on your doorframe, his black coat unbuttoned, cheeks red, eyes puffy and hair in a mess, not even gelled into place as they always are. 

“can i help you?” you asked in a cold manner, voice sending daggers into his poor, confused heart, as he finally looked up to meet your glance, an apologetic look in his eyes when he tried to form a sentence. 

“i think i can... no, way, i think i might...” he kept struggling, to which you only rolled your eyes, waiting for the continuation of that sentence. 

“spit it out, sakusa” you stated, sending shivers down his spine with how annoyed you seemed. 

yeah, spit it out, sakusa, he thought to himself before taking a breath and finally speaking up correctly:

“i think i might be in love with you.” 

your eyes widened for a second as you tried to find evidence of honesty in his expression, tone, voice, because you definitely didn’t believe his words. 

his heart dropped when you scoffed. 

“i don’t need your pity” 

that’s when it hit him:

omi doesn’t like to spend his birthday without you. you make it not only bearable, but fun. 

in fact, he never wanted to spend it without you again. and as that realization made it’s way into his brain, he caught you closing your door. 

“i respect you too much to pity you” he spat out as he placed his hand in between the door and the frame, making you unable to close it, even if you wanted to. 

and there was the honesty you looked for. 

“then why—” you started to wonder, but he shook his head before interrupting, a helpless look across his face.

to lay back in the arms of someone

“i’m afraid of... of this, okay? i’m afraid of falling in love, if this is any explanation for you. it’s like... you make me feel as if i’m on the top of the world” he laughed nervously, making you raise your eyebrows, before continuing “and it’s fucking scary to imagine falling from that high” 

you give in to the charms of someone

his glance wondered all over your face to find crumbs of understanding, scared you’d laugh his confession off, a grimace of worry replacing the insecure smile painting his lips, and he was just one step away from shouting “i’m telling the truth!” at you, but you cut him off by opening your door fully, and welcoming him inside with a warm smile on your lips, and a reassuring sentence on your tongue.

happy 23rd, kiyoomi

“i think i might love you back”

omi likes feeling loved. 

the next year flew by on both of you pushing each other’s limits, challenging each other like the both of you always needed, being there for each other, finding out how nice it feels to have someone there. it was coming home with a sore throat after a night of yelling “one more point, omi-omi!”. it was carefully intertwining your pinkies together while shopping without even realizing. it was awkward dates, because the label “date” always changes the atmosphere. it was taking weird selfies, it was having to part for out-of-town games and facetiming from hotel rooms. it was butterflies in the stomach and a ball of fluff in mind. 

it was everything. 

the first year of your official relationship flew by in no time, kiyoomi finding new joy in his birthday since now it was really a day to be remembered, marking your anniversary. 

and just as you got home to his apartment after dinner, ready to unpack all the fanmail once again, the janitor of the building stopped you. 

“sakusa-san, there was a flower delievery for you” he sighed, going towards a locked shelf and coming back with a bouquet, at which kiyoomi stared for a whole five seconds before you decided to take it. 

“thank you for taking care of it” he muttered with a slight bow, you pushing him to go up the stairs. “who’s it from?” he’d ask you a minute later, halfway through the staircase. 

“don’t you wanna check yourself?” you asked, but he frantically shook his head. 

“check it for me, please”

omi doesn’t like flowers.

you nodded wordlessly before checking a card. 

“well if i’m not mistaken this is your surname” you furrowed, struggling to read the handwriting. in your defense, the kanji for “sakusa” are quite complicated. 

he looked over at the text before admitting “yeah, that’s from my aunt, she insists on sending those ever since i got into MSBY” he finally got to his door to unlock it “kinda sad how she didn’t even bother writing a text before” he chuckled, making you want to throw the flowers away. 

you knew he considered them worthless if that’s the story behind the nice gesture. 

the apartment door remained opened, but he didn’t enter, you almost stumbled over him, focusing on the note, and glanced over to see what caught him attention and prevented him from going inside. 

“this is your surname, for a change” he stated, showing you a buffy envelope over his shoulder, but didn’t let you take it when you tried. instead he opened it himself, a neatly wrapped package inside, with a note at the top:

i wore glowes making it! i swear!

there was a typo in gloves, and the writing style could use a little work on it, but that didn’t affect kiyoomi at all, as he was hypnotized with his package after noticing your surname on it. he carefully opened it, to find a keychain, made from cubes, as the ones used in different boardgames, on every one there was a letter or a number, together forming the writing “kiyoomi 15″ with a heart at the end. it was all on a black string, and almost shined with how many times it was wiped before sending. after holding it in his hand for a while, he noticed another card at the bottom of the package, taking it out and reading out loud:

“please take care of my sibling. happy 24th!” he uttered in sheer amazement, as he grazed his fingers over the delicate ornament, before wordlessly going inside the apartment. 

you followed him, closing the door behind you, worried about his reaction about your little sibling’s present, only to find him crouching before his couch, his training bag laying there as he tried to attach the keychain to the it’s zipper, smiling when he managed to do so. 

before he got to turn around to face you, you managed to take a photo of him smiling at the newest addition to his training gear, and send it to your family with a caption:

omi likes personalized stuff. 

over all the years of knowing kiyoomi, you’ve learnt so much about him, his life, his habits, everything. you knew him inside and out, and so he knew you. you’re laughing at your confusion and fear while you were buying his first birthday gift, as you sit on the floor in your shared apartment, plotting his 25th, biggest yet gift, as if he isn’t about to walk through the door, coming back from practice. 

it’s almost ridiculous, how you struggled, wondering if he’d even like a gift, when right now you have a whole list in mind:

although omi doesn’t like gifts, he likes little thougtful gestures. he doesn’t like fancy big words, but likes real, honest wishes he can really take to heart. he doesn’t like spending his birthday without you, he likes feeling love, doesn’t like flowers, but does like his gifts personalized and touching. 

you realize all the moments in your relationship made you know his every emotion and expression, but you’ve never seen your precious boyfriend cry, ever. 

and you decide to change that. 

you’re gonna make him something that’s gonna mask all the memories of his birthday being forgotten, walked pass by, pushed into the back, and not properly celebrated. that’s gonna outshine every single gift he’s ever got. that’s gonna make him so happy, he’ll cry.

an idea pops into your head as you get a pen and start writing. 

dear kiyoomi,

_______

“dear kiyoomi” you get to hear him say a couple of nights later, he reads it out on your plea, with a smile across his lips, as you, atsumu, bokuto, meian and hinata, as well as omi’s older siblings and komori and osamu sit at the table, a cake and two traces of his favorite cupcakes are taking all the space possible.

omi’s voice is colored with a couple of glasses of wine, so it’s easier to him to relax and genuinely grin at the paper as he’s reading, all part of your plan. 

“when i first met you, the first thing i found out is that you’re a private person. not that i was freaked out or anything, but you did have, and probably you still do, a heavy aura around you that may have flustered me a tiny little— a tiny little bit? smiles, your hands literally shivered” he stopped to comment, making you roll your eyes at him.

“zip it and keep reading, birthday boy”

“... a tiny little bit, i agree. nevertheless, the first thing i actually felt, was that you striked my soul as someone weird. thanks, baby” he interrupted again, but you urged him to keep reading. “... weird in a way that made me feel like i’ve never felt before, the kind of safe and terrified at the same time. terrified of what, you might ask? well, kiyoomi, here i’d like to quote you. you once told me that me loving you is like i had the power to break you, and you loving me back was like giving me a map with all the points to strike at. well if that’s the definition of love we’re going for here, than i not only give you a map, i’ll grant you a whole GPS. the trust you put in me every day to not take advantage of what you’ve given me is inspiring, and hence, i surrender every single point of ressistance i’ve held against you, i’m yours to snap at a wish, and trusting you that you won’t do it is something i can spend my life believing in.” 

at this point kiyoomi had to stop and take a deep breath and a sip of his wine before continuing, clearing his throat a bit, chocking back his emotion. 

“... throughout my years by your side, i’ve memorized everything there is to memorize about you and gifts. you generally aren’t a fan, but you like them carrying a lot of thought, dedication, you like them meant exactly to you and to you only. you don’t want pointless blabbing and overused sentences, you enjoy sincerity. you need love radiating from them in order to truly acknowledge them as something special. now, the last thing i know is that you don’t like flowers, but i hope you won’t be too angry with me and with what i’ve prepared for you. enjoy, signed, your smiles” he finished, looking up at you, already moving towards the counter, grabbing a bouquet from behind it. 

he watched in amazement as you handed it to him, taking it in his hands, realizing that- 

it was a bouquet of origami flowers. 

“please, y/n, this is so—” he tried to find the right words, but once again, nothing came to mind as he watched your careful work from every side possible. 

“shh, there’s a special thing to them” you explained, sitting back in your seat, exactly in a straight line from him, watching every single change in his expression as he tried to find what you meant. 

he realized every flower had a little card sticking out from it’s center, and pulled the first one, the closest one to him. 

“the first reason i love you” he read in a weak voice, chuckling nervously again before he found the courage to read it out loud “you make me feel protected” 

he looked up at you with such a gentle and caring note in his eyes that you almost didn’t want to encourage him to keep reading it, but you did. 

“two. you don’t smile too much” after that he raised an eyebrow, but read the next one “three. ...but when you do, you outshine the sun itself. four. you memorized my coffee order within the first two times we’ve been to a caffee. five. you got supplies to redo my coffee order without going to the— hey i swear i didn’t mean anything bad by it!” 

“that’s literally the reason they love you for, idiot” atsumu laughed, urgining him to keep reading with a hand gesture. “come on, this is adorable”

“six. you have a playlist with songs that remind you of me. yes, i know this, omi, we share a spotify account. seven. you claim you don’t like interacting with people, but let a little girl propose to you with a cereal ring in the park.”

“this is too cute, omi is a softie” bokuto whined, hiding his face in his hands, but sakusa only slapped them off. 

“am not. eight. you keep a mental score of all the times you won over ushijima. nine. you take way too much pride in beating atsumu in service aces”

“true that!” atsumu shouted, hiding behind his glass. 

“ten” sakusa shook his head. “you don’t enjoy PDA, yet gave me the kiss of the century when i met your mother, just to annoy her. eleven. your childhood photos are too cute. twelve. you blasted hopelessly devoted to you the morning after we— i’m not reading that, idiot!” he half laughed half whined, in a high-pitched voice. 

“omi-san knows how it’s done, apparently” hinata wheezed, komori accompanying him. 

“did i ask?” he rolled his eyes and went back to picking lines from the flowers. “thirteen, you tug the corner of my sleeves when you’re stressed in public. fourteen, you have me saved in your phone as your good luck charm. fifteen. you put my head on your chest when i can’t sleep at night, to calm me down. sixteen. you make me laugh when i’m sad. seventeen. you almost never intent to make me laugh, yet always do. eighteen. you always make sure i’m carrying all the emergency items all me at all times. nineteen. you make me call you when i get home from a party, if you aren’t there to pick me up. twenty, you always insist on picking me up from wherever i am, because you’re worried about me. i mean yeah, what kind of a boyfriend would i be if i weren’t?” he genuinely asked, half of the guest shaking their heads. 

“come on, five more to go, you adorable, clueless idiot” motoya pat his back and looked over his shoulder to see your careful handwriting, before sakusa hid the message from him. 

“twenty one. you make me not worry about my future. twenty two, you try to do all your little morning rituals in advance when you leave, so i don’t miss you too much. i still do. twenty three, you’re never afraid to be bluntly honest with me. twenty four, you always ask if you can hug me when i’m low or crying. and twenty five—” he stopped more suddenly than anywhere before, eyes visibly watering before he dropped his head down and his it in his arms. 

“what’s on there?” several guys asked over themselves, as omi kept laughing slightly, hiding tears in the sleeves of his fitted shirt. 

“you’re gonna be the death of me” he murmured into the material, making everyone laugh, including you, who decided to walk over to him and hug him, resting your head on his, taking advantage of the fact that he was sitting and you could reach it. 

after a moment of weakness, he showed his red and slightly puffy face, two trails of tears fitting his smiling expression as he struggled to say 

“twenty five. you make me prouder and prouder every day.” he kept laughing through his tears, really trying to hide his emotion and failing miserably. “you really did try to make me cry on my birthday, didn’t you?” he looked up to you still embracing him. 

“i suppose i did”

“well then, i’m gonna outshine you” he said, shifting in his seat in order to get up, wiping the last remains of tears from his face. 

“what do you mean?” you asked, met with his confident smirk. 

“you’re gonna see in a bit, trust me” he huffed, dusting off his pants’ material on the knee level, and reaching over to his pocket, in his hand a tiny, little box. 

with a little more than an origami flower. 

[hauntedfalcon]

fic prompt: in the future (couple hundred years or more) Nile and Quynh (lets presume that she rejoins the team in the next movie) go to find a new immortal

"Did you dream of it, when Andy came to find me?"

Quỳnh, in the midst of the lander's pre-flight checklist, cracks a smile. "We will not be shooting anyone in the head today," she says.

"No we won't," Nile sighs. They have time to be gentle to the new one, in delivering them to this life. Things aren't quiet by any means, which is why Joe and Nicky and Booker are staying with the ship. But no one is actively hunting them down for the moment.

And Nile and Quỳnh are not Andy. They both have plenty to grieve, but they don't carry it alone out of some misplaced responsibility to protect the others.

"When she found me," Quỳnh starts. She's quiet for the countdown to uncoupling, then she tries again as the lander detaches. "When we found Yusuf and Nicolò, we had dreamed of them for years. It was like coming home. There was so much they had already accepted and worked through together. I'm sure they struggled more than I saw, but they made it look easy."

"And when she found you?" Nile says, because long ago, Quỳnh made Nile promise that she would help her face these things.

Quỳnh is silent until gravity takes hold of the lander. "I did not make anything easy for her."

Nile laughs aloud.

There are more people scattered across the solar system than there are left on Earth now, but the new one didn't die on a colony or a station. Maybe it's Earth itself that grants them this gift. Maybe their feet must be planted on the soil or the sand in order to rise again.

From the flashes in their dreams and some cross-referencing with their Terran contact, they determined that the new one is in the NT Underground. Their first death was excruciating, crushed under stone in a collapsed tunnel. And then they got right back up and kept fighting. Every time she dreams, Nile feels their fear, their confusion, their loneliness, and the force of their will.

She checks their trajectory on the screen, then cranes her neck to look out the tiny window. "It's so weird to be back here. There's more ocean than I remember."

"Yes," Quỳnh says in a faraway voice.

They put down outside Alice Springs and start making their inquiries. The locals don't warm to outsiders, and there is no one more outside than the two of them--but Quỳnh has a way of winning the trust of dangerous and frightened people.

That evening they are escorted through limestone chambers to a dim and smokey room, where a figure is surrounded by... well, the first word that comes to Nile's mind, based on body language alone, is disciples. All the other people here are oriented toward the new one, waiting for whatever they'll say next.

A freedom fighter who can't die would look an awful lot like a savior.

But whoever they were before, they were not a leader, and they haven’t had the time Nile has to grow into the role. They shrink from the deference their associates show them now. "Can you give us the room?" they ask with an attempt at authority. The others slip away quietly.

When it's just the three of them, Nile sits on the edge of a supply crate and says, "My name is Nile. This is Quỳnh. How should we call you?"

"Gotjan, for now." Their chin stays jutted, lips tight. Gotjan is plump, and richly brown as the earth, with a head of loose curls faded by sun at the ends. Maybe a handful of years older than Nile was at her first death.

"Pronouns?" Quỳnh prompts.

"She. You?"

"Same," Nile says.

"Whatever works," Quỳnh says.

For an instant it looks like Gotjan might smile, but she steels herself again. "Why have you come here?"

"To meet you," Nile says as Quỳnh takes a handheld cutter from her bag. "The dreams are how we find each other."

The cutter sparks. Quỳnh sears a line across her palm without a whimper, and holds it up as it heals.

Gotjan's eyes go wide. "Who's we?" she breathes.

"You, me, Quỳnh, and those three men you've been dreaming of, back on our ship. They're waiting for you to join us."

"Six," Gotjan says. "There are six of us?" She lets out an incredulous laugh. "Do you know what we could accomplish with six of us?"

Nile hears that we for what it is: the Underground. She knows perfectly well what six of them can accomplish.

Gently she says, "We aren't running missions on Earth, for the time being. It got a little too hot for us." They need to wait out a few overhauls of physical media, until all the records of what they did in Vancouver forty years ago pass out of memory. "But there are a lot of ways to help a cause."

"From space?" Gotjan takes a step back. "No. I'm not leaving. I lost everything--those bastards took everything from me, and I finally have a chance to do something about it."

This is something Nile expected from the conviction she felt in the dreams, though it's novel to her. When Nile was new, she had only begun to realize how much she didn't believe in what she had fought for.

She says, "Have you ever killed anyone?"

Gotjan swallows. Yeah, that's what Nile thought.

"We're not here to force you to do anything," she soothes. "If you want us to go without you, we will, and Joe and Nicky and Booker will keep dreaming of you. We'll know if you're in trouble and we'll always come back. But before you make that decision, you need to think about whether staying will do the Underground any good. If you're captured, they can kill you and kill you, and your mind will crack eventually, and that's when they'll get secrets out of you that will lead to the deaths of people you love."

She can see from the shadow that passes across Gotjan's eyes and the way she slants her face away from them that she is thinking about it.

But before Gotjan can answer, Quỳnh says, "No."

Nile gives her a vexed look, which she ignores. She always picks the most inconvenient fucking times to go off script.

"No," Quỳnh says again, "we won't leave you behind. None of us should ever be alone. If you stay, we will stay and fight beside you to whatever end. If you run from us, we will follow. You can hate us for it, but we won't be moved."

Her voice is a thread reaching back thousands of years. It raises the hairs on Nile's arms. Gotjan stares at her with a fire in her eyes. It isn't gentle, but maybe in this moment, in her solitude, it's what she needs to hear.

Quỳnh says, "You don't yet know the depth of what you have gained. Come with us and we will show you."

Nile waits for the cavern to stop ringing from Quỳnh's fervor. Then she clears her throat. "We also have an ungodly amount of money to fund the Underground in your absence."

All the way up out of the gravity well, Gotjan has questions. They do their best to answer them.

Nile watches her face when the lander pivots to reattach to the ship, and Earth is visible once more through the window. There is an ache in Gotjan's dark eyes. It's the barest she's allowed herself to be in their presence.

"I never planned to leave," she whispers. "I know the work is better up here, but... that's our land."

"That is a connection you will always have," Quỳnh promises her.

A freedom fighter who can't die and who leaves to live in the sky will, in another century or so, look an awful lot like a folk hero.

"How long are you staying off Earth?"

Nile says, "Two, maybe three more generations."

"Generations," Gotjan echoes. "What are you, twenty?"

The Freeman babyface strikes again. "I'm four hundred and twelve," Nile says lightly. "Next Thursday."

"The fuck," Gotjan says, turning to stare at her. "When do you stop keeping track?"

"About five centuries ago," Quỳnh supplies.

Gotjan lifts her head to look at Quỳnh, but she doesn't ask the logical next question. Not yet, anyway.

The Andromache's docking clamps embrace the lander. Nile leads the way through her beloved corridors, moving slower than usual so Gotjan can get used to the magnetic boots.

Nile hears them while she's still outside the galley, cursing in Italian and French, with a frantic he didn't mean it for spice.

She stops at the door and glances at Quỳnh, on the other side of Gotjan. The oldest, and the newest. Quỳnh gives her a tiny, prized smile.

"Gentlemen," Nile says as the door slides open, and a trio of anything but gentlemen straighten up from a pantomime brawl as dinner bubbles in the cooker. Some things never change.

And some things do. Nile says, "This is Gotjan."

[caspianjames]

BONUS Up And Coming: Julie and the Phantoms

Up and Coming: Julie and the Phantoms Jennifer McCreedy, Junior Correspondent 

On this month’s issue of Up and Coming I had the privilege of sitting down with one of America’s biggest up and coming bands, Julie and the Phantoms. Julie Molina (17), Reggie Peters (18), Alex Mercer (17), and Luke Patterson (17) began rapidly gaining popularity as YouTube stars last fall. They created music videos for songs they wrote themselves, editing them to appear as if the band were ghosts “popping in” behind Julie. Don’t understand what I mean? You can click here to check it out for yourself!

The band has a strong air of camaraderie, and it’s the first thing I notice when I walk into the room with them. They’re all piled on our big interview couch, Molina and Mercer are pressed together whispering. Patterson is bantering with Peters and flicks him in the forehead. They’re like any group of teenagers bordering on adulthood, excited and eager to please. It’s immediately apparent that to all of them, the band has a deep meaning of friendship and support. 

Of course, the first topic of conversation was about the band - what inspired the structure of their music videos, how they got their name, and which came first - the ghost music videos or the ghost band! 

“Since my mom died, my brother has really been into ghosts,” Molina explained to me. “It was actually his idea for the band to pop in like that. My dad does videography as his job, so he was able to help us film and edit. My best friend, Flynn Taylor, came up with the band name.”

The boys all laugh when I ask if they liked the name right away or if there were discussions before they went public with it. “Flynn doesn’t do discussions,” Mercer smiles at Julie like there’s an inside joke there. There probably is, seeing how close these four are. “They came up with the name and made us posters, Instagram, Facebook, and Twitter before even asking us what we thought.”

“We loved it,” Peters is quick to jump in. “And we love Flynn. She knew we’d like it, or they wouldn’t have gone ahead with everything.”

Flynn Taylor, Julie’s best friend, doubles as the band manager - she is on tour with them, but opted not to be present for the interview. 

Since beginning their tour with Panic! At the Disco, all their videos have amassed over one million views each on YouTube and their music has been released on Spotify with startlingly quick success. Molina, I discovered, is actually the newest member of the band, although I would never have known from watching the four bandmates interact. She is also the youngest by a year, having just had her seventeenth birthday as the boys are all turning eighteen, but she holds herself with a quiet confidence that all the boys seem to look to. Even this early into the interview they defer to her to answer questions and look to her for reactions to their own answers. 

This made it especially surprising to find out that the band existed before Julie joined it, just under a different name. Sunset Curve. Clearly, it did not have the popularity that Julie and the Phantoms has even a few months into their creation. “We played a couple school shows and stuff,” Patterson told me, “but nothing clicked until we met Julie.” Luke Patterson carries a humming energy with him that comes across in his words. In true rocker fashion, he struggles to sit still, tapping his fingers on his thighs and softly bouncing on the couch. 

Unsurprisingly, Molina used similar words to describe the band’s first meeting. “The first time I sang with them at school we just clicked,” she says, smiling at Luke. 

Of course, given their success, I had to ask the question everyone wants to know. How did they end up opening for Panic! At the Disco, despite being relatively unknown outside the Los Angeles music scene previous to their debut at The Orpheum?

“We’ve seen some wild theories,” Mercer confides to me with a small smile on his face. He is arguably the most subdued of the group and generally seems content to watch his bandmates answer my questions. Don’t be fooled, though - not only is he a phenomenal drummer, he also sings backup vocals for Julie and the Phantoms. “My favouirte theory was one that caught a lot of steam on Twitter about us using ‘ghost powers’,” he adds air quotes with his hands and laughs, “to hide the scheduled opener’s tour bus and then pop into the venue in their place at the time they were supposed to perform.”

The whole band laughs at this - clearly it is a favourite theory amongst them. Peters adds, though, that it was clearly an unfounded theory given that “Julie doesn’t have any ghost powers, anyways. That’s why it’s Julie and the Phantoms. But I’d kill for ghost powers in real life.” When I ask what he’d use them for, though, he seems stumped. “I think it would just be cool to walk through walls.” We’re with you on that one, Reggie!

But what actually did happen to get them into the coveted opening spot at The Orpheum? Molina gives me a modest smile when I ask. “We were honestly just in the right place at the right time,” she explains. 

Patterson picks up the story from there with a little bit more flair, telling me that the opening band had actually gotten food poisoning - “from a street dog vendor, believe it or not” - and the manager of the Orpheum happened to be familiar with the Julie and the Phantoms YouTube page. 

“Since we were local,” Peters explains, “It was just a phone call. And then suddenly we were on stage doing a proper professional soundcheck for the first time in our lives.”

“Everything moved so fast after that,” Patterson adds. Each of his bandmates nod in agreement as he speaks. “We blinked and we were on a tour bus, suddenly.”

It seems that the band is handling the change well, though. 

“It’s definitely different,” Molina tells me. “We have to be responsible for our own school and make sure we’re turning in assignments on time. There’s a lot of driving and a lot of time to kill. We can get on each other’s nerves quite a bit, but there’s always a lot of time for songwriting, too.”

When I prompt her about who gets on who’s nerves, the whole band turns in tandem to look at Luke. He laughs and shrugs at me. “I’m an early riser,” he explains. “I like music in my hands twenty-four seven. I always have my guitar, but it isn’t always appreciated.”

“We’ve had to compromise,” Mercer says with a long-suffering sigh. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was the oldest of the group. “Luke isn’t allowed to start playing music until eleven in the morning the day after a show.”

As for being on tour with Panic!, none of them seem all too bothered by the fame of the headliners. “They’re really cool,” Peters explains to me. “They’ve been doing this a long time and they always have advice for us which I think we really value right now.”

Otherwise, though, the band seems to keep to themselves. When asked about their favouirte hobbies, Peters speaks at length about Star Wars. “I can’t watch the prequels before bed,” he says. His bandmates groan and shake their heads, although he seems unbothered. “Jar-Jar gives me nightmares.”

Other than Star Wars, “We try to make sure we get time and space for ourselves every day,” Molina says. “It’s a lot of us in a small space, and if we don’t get away from each other for a bit we argue a lot more.”

When I ask each of them who their favourite bandmate is to live with, all the boys say Julie and then turn expectantly for her answer. “I suppose Flynn doesn’t count as a bandmate,” she said with a sigh. “Probably Alex, but we live together normally so it’s not something that’s new.”

Mercer confirms this piece of information with a nod and a smile. “I prefer sharing a room with your brother to sharing a bus with you, though,” he says to Julie. She just rolls her eyes. 

When pushed, Mercer elaborates a little bit. “I’ve been living with Julie’s family for my senior year. It’s a better environment for me and is much closer to our school than where I lived. My parents are happy that it gives me more time to focus on school.”

Since I have Mercer’s attention now, I ask him a question I’ve been dying to know the answer to. Does he know what a role model he is to gay and questioning children and teens that get to see him be himself so publicly? 

As all the boys have been doing, he looks to Julie before answering. “I don’t think about it much, to be honest,” he says candidly. “If people think I’m a role model then I’m glad, but I’m just me. And being gay is part of me, a part of me that’s always been completely accepted by my band, just like my drumming or my singing.”

There was no tension, the band members explain, upon finding out about Alex’s sexuality. “No one was surprised when Alex came out,” Patterson adds. “We were only, like, twelve when he came out to us, anyway. It’s just a fact about who he is. Like, Alex is gay and hates mornings and I play the guitar and love mornings and we’re best friends.”

“Plus, I’m bisexual,” Peters adds, “So it would be hypocritical to have a problem with Alex.”

“I’m pansexual,” Patterson pipes up again. “And Alex being himself helped me figure out that part of myself.”

Molina doesn’t seem to have much to add. “Alex was already out when I met him,” she says. “It was never a surprise and someone’s sexuality shouldn’t be something that causes tension or makes people upset anyways.”

When I point out that it has seemed to cause some tension among fans, they all sigh. For unaware readers, the band has been stirring up quite the debate on Twitter and Instagram amongst fans and haters alike as to who is dating who. Patterson and Molina confirmed their relationship before going on tour and have been dating since before their band became popular. Recently, a Twitter user attending a Julie and the Phantoms meet and greet noted the closeness between Molina and Peters, causing fans to speculate that Molina is cheating on Patterson with Peters. When I ask if they'd like to address it, however, they all nod. 

“Luke and I have been dating for a few months,” Julie says, “very happily. Neither of us have cheated on each other, nor would we ever. But we’re both also dating Reggie.”

When I ask for clarification, Peters adds, “I’m dating Luke and Julie, just like Julie is dating me and Luke and Luke is dating Julie and me.” Although it doesn’t sound clear, it does seem to be clear for them. 

“We’d like people to give us our privacy, although we know that probably won’t happen,” Molina says. “We’re allowed to define our own relationships in the way that works for us, we don’t have to hold them up to anyone else’s expectations or preconceived notions of what a relationship should look like.”

When I ask if there’s anything they’d like to add before we wrap up, Patterson pipes up with a confident “Yes.” 

“We’re Julie and the Phantoms,” he says, prompting Peters to follow up with “Tell your friends!”

Tell your friends, indeed. You can find Julie and the Phantoms everywhere that Panic! At the Disco is playing for the next four weeks. 

masterpost

read on AO3

taglist under teh cut (ask to be added or removed!!)

@screamin-amuseum​ @angelwiththeblue-box​ @defultuser​ @peter-parkerson​ @willex-molina​ @thedepthsofhell​ @themongosianhorse​ @theamd426​ @k-padfoot39​ @wholitzukoonfire​ @invisibleraven​ @williesskateboard​ @leodolphin​ @moss-on-a-tree15​

[lapinmiel]

Mirror, Mirror

Felix and OC (Female), 1,8K. (Part 1)

Phoebe’s life was never one of an adventure, even as a vampire — after being discovered by the Volturi for her talent, she finds herself running away from the world’s most powerful organization, and soon she finds herself in a complete lie and truth situation, with the anchor of her lover leading her to his side.

Part 1, Part 2

None of the nights were calm anymore, it was always a chaser behind, and there was always an obstacle to be faced ahead. Days were filled with blood and dread, and she wished she could close her eyes for a night and never wake up again.

He called it “teenage dread” which made her very sad and furious, because she had been alive for fifty years now, how the hell could she have a teenage dread now? She had never heard it before anyway, she was past her teens — more like early twenties, but she didn’t remember her birthday. Her thoughts were like water droplets in a bucket of water swaying left to right, purely disordered.

And now, she was dealing with another threat: the damn Volturi were after her.

The night they realized there was a vampire out there who could mirror any talent was the night her life as a free vampire had ended. She had never seen the Volturi before, but she’d heard about them from Saladin’s stories, and all those were horrible. From executing clans to poaching lone vampires, they gained form as soulless monsters in her imagination, and she was not ready to face them.

And when the night of her planned poaching had come, she was surprised, because even Jane, the little one was a monster in her mind but, she was barely half of her height, which made things complicated for her. She knew she could kill Jane in a heartbeat, it was one of her skills after all, but would she feel comfortable killing a child? She didn’t know, but she realized she would have to do it one day rather quickly.

“Phoebe.” Jane’s dead, stone-cold voice had traveled the air and reached her. “I propose you join us, and we will let your creator be free.”

It wasn’t an easy choice. It wasn’t a choice. Saladin had told her before, the Volturi does not forgive. The Volturi does not tell the truth. If she joined them, Saladin would be dead by dawn, and she would have to spend her whole life serving for three marble like (but much uglier) creatures to death. Her aspirations didn’t fit theirs, and her sense of freedom definitely wasn’t a thing that they could inspire. It wasn’t the right band of people to be sent to offer a union anyway, a little agony machine, a man with eyes of mischief and another one with a door like figure that looked like it would take him a single wrong lettering of a name to crush your skull to a jelly. Besides, the men looked slightly attractive, and it wasn’t for the easy lover like Phoebe to resist men like that easily.

She refused. No hesitation was found in her noise, no twitching of hands — and in a second of leaves falling from the trees, she felt thousands of needles trying to penetrate through her skin. Her mind took action in an instant and the three vampires fell on the ground. She used the chance to turn around and tell Saladin to run away, but he had already, and when she tried running, she felt something around her neck.

The arm, or whatever it was that choked her, felt like a tight rope, much like when she was drowning in her human life. She tried putting her hand around it, but the force was far too powerful for her to slip her hand.

Then she acted out on her instinct, and kicked the figure behind her. The arm around her neck loosened, and she used the moment to run away.

It had been five days since the night happened, and they hadn’t stopped for more than two hours. “If we stop, they will find us.” Saladin had said to her earlier, he told her that the shorter man was called Dimitri, and he could find anyone, anywhere. He couldn’t risk staying in a place more than a couple of hours because he knew the Volturi would bring a whole army to poach Phoebe, and it wouldn’t matter whether his shield would be working or not. They had penetrators anyway, and he wasn’t looking to die in at least three hundred years from that moment on. They were running for hours, hunting, and running again. Saladin knew the Volturi were tracking their footsteps, and Demetri was on their necks like a crow.

It had been three hours since they’d stopped on a mountain in north Asia, and soon, it was going to be the time to move.

Phoebe had been thinking to say something for days, and the mountain range, which she didn’t know the name at, gave her the feeling of what would happen if I said, it doesn’t matter, and she wanted to go for it.

“You know what, Saladin.” She said in a breath. Saladin was busy with finishing his food. “I’m gonna say it.”

He looked up with curious eyes.

Phoebe poked the hand of her victim on the ground to fend off nervousness.

“You are the reason that we are running away now.” She looked up at Saladin. His eyes showed no emotion other than curiosity. “If you hadn’t put your shield down on the forest, we wouldn’t be here. We would be looking for Zareen like you wished.”

Saladin, licking the blood on his lips, got up and stood on the place like a mannequin. Phoebe was relieved now, because her thoughts had reached the belonging place, and now she could deal with his bickering for a couple of days. Better than keeping thoughts in a locked up place.

“Well, I am.” Much to her surprise, Saladin wasn’t angry. “But you must accept that it wasn’t intentional. I was distracted by the human. If I wasn’t, nothing would have happened.”

“Yeah, that’s the point.” She said. “If you weren’t. You should keep your guard up all times. You hadn’t one time, and we are being hunted down by the Volturi and you are probably going to get burned like a witch at a stake as if it was the Middle Ages!”

“I’m not you, Phoebe! My talent doesn’t work on its own, I have to focus on it.”

“I know.” She was feeling guilty for telling him what she thought now. It felt ungrateful.

“It doesn’t matter. We will survive this.” Saladin took a step towards her and put his hand on her shoulder. “We are going to find Zareen, and we are going to erase our existence from our world.”

He smiled, and embraced her tightly.

She knew it wasn’t completely his fault. She knew that it was a distraction that caused this all, yet, she couldn’t forgive him completely. No, it wasn’t a matter of forgiveness — it just felt wrong. It felt wrong that after living fifty years in peace, she now had to run away, and if they couldn’t find Zareen, they had to do it for their whole life. God knew how long would that be.

She was already getting bored with her life. Living in the shadows, hunting people, overpowering every being on the planet, being indestructible. A weakness was lacking, and her talent didn’t help at all. She was presumably the luckiest person in existence, and perfection was boring after spending decades being it.

After Saladin released her from his hug, they started running again. Hours and minutes were as light as a bird’s feathers, and later, they found themselves in the southern regions of the continent.

After hours of running, they stopped again, another mountain by a big city. Saladin felt like the place was quiet enough for him to catch any sound that sounded peculiar, and Phoebe thought that the trail around the mountain was the perfect place to hunt humans. They quickly ran around the mountain for a possible prey, and they fed on him to his last drop of blood once they found him. Within seconds, they felt powerful again.

In that little euphoria of feeding, Phoebe caught the glimpse of a plane flying right above their head. Her eyes glimmered. She turned and looked at Saladin to see whether he was thinking the same thing, but no, he definitely was thinking about his meal.

“Saladin.” Her voice brought surprise to Saladin again.

When he looked at her, she pointed upwards to the plane, but still, Saladin’s eyes were oblivious as ever. Maybe it is his old age, she thought.

“We can use planes.”

Saladin furrowed his brows.

“We can use planes to stop the Volturi from finding us. We’ll sneak into the cargo compartments during take off, and you’ll use your shield throughout the journey. When we land, we feed and look for Zareen. Then the Volturi will be confused.”

Saladin finally understood. Phoebe often felt like following him was a mistake, because despite his brilliant plans, he was often too slow at understanding her plans.

“They won’t be able to track us without thinking that something is wrong.”

“Yes!” Phoebe’s excitement was flowing through her veins. “No vampire uses technology. And I wasn’t born a thousand years ago.”

Saladin gave a quick smile. They agreed on the plan, and they quickly finished their meals. They arrived at the airport soon after. Phoebe offered playing a little game to choose which plane to sneak in, but Saladin, being his no-bullshit self, refused it, and choose the biggest plane. The logic behind it wasn’t clear to Phoebe, because he had never traveled by plane before, how could he know which plane flew where? Phoebe didn’t know it either, but judging from the size, it was likely going to America.

The plane they chose came to the runway about an hour later. They were waiting by the airport fences. When he felt ready, Saladin told Phoebe to run and lead him. She did as he wanted — just when the plane was about to start its engines, she run and entered the plane from the back tires.

The space was enormous, and Saladin look terrified. He knew he wouldn’t die even if something happened, and he knew that planes were completely safe after what Phoebe told him about them, but being in such a foreign object was giving him an extremely uneasy feeling, as if he was a human again and was sick with nausea. Taking off part felt like he was flying, not the machine, and after spending long hours, lading felt like falling.

The terror in his eyes when Phoebe told him to hold on to somewhere on the top of the compartment was remarkable, and Phoebe couldn’t contain her laughter when he saw him looking like a little scared puppy. While they were holding to the cables and parts of the plane, the tires got lowered, and for once Saladin felt thankful for his vampirism. At least I won’t be crushed by this thing, he thought.

Just as when the plane was getting out of the runway, Phoebe and Saladin jumped off the plane and run to the nearest fences. They jumped through them, and started running again.

It took a couple of seconds for Phoebe to realize it wasn’t morning and that they didn’t have to run away. She slowed down and told Saladin to do the same too. He came close to her to get her in his shield.

But it didn’t take long. The feelings that settled in Phoebe was not relaxation, but fear.

Because the signs on the streets didn’t read any English words. The people around them were not speaking English either. It was melodic, much more than her own language. And it was terrific too, because they were trying to run away from their hunters, not land in their homeland.

From the Writer: Just a heads up, my first language is not English and I struggle with choosing tenses when writing. If you see “had been” mixed with “was” or thing like that, please inform me. I can’t really differentiate them. By the way, Phoebe is not read the regular “Phee-bee” way, it’s more like “Pho-ee-bee”, because that’s how I pronounce it lol.

[sweetsubharry]

hi! do you have any fic recs of like really fluffy one shots

Hiya!! yes I do!! Aren’t they just the best sometimes?? Sorry this took me a few days to do! I had over 260 fics to go through on ao3 just under fluff (I really need to tidy my bookmarks!)  💖 There’s 79 in this list so it’s a long one!! ^-^

please stay safe and read the tags everyone! :)

freeze this moment in a frame and stay like this by rosesau

Harry (not so) secretly crushes on the cute footie player and fills pages with sketches of him.

Thunder started it by booloveshiscuppycake

Harry's always been scared of thunder storms. But louis' always been there to comfort him. Friendship and comfort turn into love. (Fluffy as shit)

but he cant be what you need (if he's eighteen) by lingerielarries

“I need you to do something for me.” Harry said, pinching his bottom lip between his thumb and forefinger.

“It seems like you’re asking me to kill for you, H.” Louis laughed nervously.

“It’s nothing that drastic, I promise. It’s just. I don’t think it’s a secret that I’m not a.. normal eighteen year old.” Louis furrowed his eyebrows at that, narrowing his eyes at the younger boy.

“Are people giving you a hard time?” Louis wondered. Harry shifted in his seat and brushed some of his fringe off his forehead.

“Yeah, that’s. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.” Harry swallowed nervously. He could feel the sweat pooling at his hairline so he wiped it with the sleeve of his sweater. “I need you to uhm, pretend to be my boyfriend.”

or

the one where harry is sick of getting bullied and casts louis as the hot punk boyfriend to scare them away. louis needs harry to return the favor.

punk!louis and flowerchild!harry

the love is ours to make (so we should make it) by lingerielarries

“I’m.. Harry. I nanny? For Ernest and Doris?” Harry responded.

“A nanny? How old even are you? You look twelve.” Louis remarked. Something caught Louis’ eye, and a closer look revealed that Harry had a coat of pink nail polish on his fingers.

“Nineteen. I’m nineteen.” Harry replied.

“Right. Nineteen, wears pink, flower crowns and paints his nails. Who the actual fuck did my mum hire?”

or

the one where louis takes some time off from life to return home, only to be met with a strange boy in pink and a flowercrown as the nanny of his siblings.

All I See is You by ElegantSurrender

Even with the blood gushing from his nose, he couldn’t keep his thoughts on anything but the boy in front of him. He was just so… pretty. He smiled to himself, which only seemed to worry his boyfriend more.

“Why’re you smiling?” Louis asked confusedly, moving Harry’s bloody hand away, and replacing it with his, pinching his nose shut with a tissue. “You’re bleeding, and you’re fucking smiling.”

“Seeing you makes me happy.”

(or the one where Harry has a bloody nose and Louis takes care of him, and Harry really really loves Louis)

Pretty Blue Eyes (I don't care about the nightmares) by justgotowisharder

Harry has nightmares, Louis hates sharing the bed, they end up talking about dreams, they read Freud and they fall in love in the process.

Breathe by dontlietomehoney

Harry has an asthma attack and Louis is scared to death. What follows after though, scares both boys, pulling them apart and bringing them together.

with your love we could breathe underwater by luminescents

Harry’s brow furrows, a look of confusion spreading over his face. “But I am real. I exist, see,” he says, raising a hand out of the water and wiggling his fingers at Louis.

Louis finds himself relaxing a bit. Harry seems harmless really. And he’s quite cute, for something that’s not supposed to exist. If Louis is indeed having a hallucination right now, at least it’s a cute one.

AU where Harry is a mermaid, Louis is a human, and they both discover a lot more than they anticipated.

yes, you make my life worthwhile by orphan_account

Harry whispers to him that this feels like every dream he’s had for the last three years and Louis kisses his temple, behind his ear, across his cheeks and by the edge of his jaw. He runs the back of his finger across Winnie’s sleep-warm cheeks and sighs, the weight of the world finally off his shoulder.

Louis' a pediatrician, Harry's a preschooler teacher, and they're having a baby.

Weigh Us Down (We're In Love) by orphan_account

Harry’s eyes widen slightly at that. “We’re friends?”

Louis nods eagerly, smiling even wider. “Of course we are! You’re like, my first ever friend here. We just moved in, you see. Did I already tell you about that? Anyway! Maybe you can stay for dinner and I can show you my toys?”

Harry smiles. “You’ll let me play with you?”

Louis nods again, excited. “Of course!” He looks thoughtful for a moment, and then he’s slipping off the couch and crouching in front of Harry. “Oh, and Mum always kisses my wounds after she fixes them up. It makes me feel loads better all the time, so.” He leans forward and puckers his lips, pressing them over the bandage on Harry’s knee.

(harry and louis first meet when they’re eight and ten. this is their story throughout the years.)

Breathe by Jade_eyed

Can you write a Larry high school AU where Harry's a sophomore and Louis' his senior boyfriend and Harry's being bullied during class and has a panic attack and all he's saying is 'Louis' so someone goes into louis' classroom and gets him and louis' like freaking out when he finds out and just really fluffy and stuff i just need this okay

[ I changed it a bit , I'm sorry babe I tried. :( ]

Cause If You Let Me, Here's What I'll Do by stylesforstiles

Five times where Harry is Louis' baby

Zero Means Nothing When I'm With You by StripedAndBowtied

Louis doesn't know what he's looking for until he finds it.

Harry just knows he may defy his gender norms, with his height and clumsiness, but that doesn't mean he doesn't want litters of pups running around while he does domestic things all day long.

In other words, boy meets boy and no one can stop pining.

All my senses come to life by erikaeurekajoe

And it was true. Harry's senses were all coming to life, on overdrive in fact because a handsome blue-eyed stranger was holding his hands.

Because of Louis Tomlinson's Arse by AggressiveStress

One in which Harry is a clumsy Uni student that first sees Louis leaning over, picking up his things with his arse very prominent. Harry then falls down the stairs and Louis- wearing a nice little beanie- helps him back to his feet.

In All Its Imperfections by BriaMaria

From: Louis Tomlinson To: Undisclosed Recipients

Hello!

I’ve asked the front desk and you lovely folks are the ones who are on the same level as me in the car park. I found a to-do list today that looked somewhat important because it has lines of poetry scribbled at the bottom that seemed like they might be for a card project. The stationary has a moose in a canoe at the top of it (and he is quite adorable). Let me know if it’s yours!

Cheers!

“Oh. My. Fucking. God,” Harry whispered, his eyes darting over the sentences again willing them not to make sense. They did, they did make sense. “Oh. My. Bloody. Fucking. God.”

The next thing he knew he was on the floor, staring at the ceiling, with a very concerned Liam hovering over his head.

"What happened, mate?" Liam asked.

Harry just pointed to his computer.

Liam bent over Harry’s desk to read the email. “What? This isn’t bad. Is that your to-do list? Did you finally come up with the inside text for those cards?”

“Leeyum" he groaned. “It’s what’s on the list.”

“Oh,” Liam paused for a beat. “Is it dirty stuff?”

Harry nodded.

There was more silence. And then, “Dirty stuff with Louis?”

Delirious in Love by yourpricelessadvice (orphan_account)

Louis is there for Harry waking up from minor surgery; he wouldn't miss it for the world. For two reasons.

Stars Will Align For Us by 2tiedships2

"The serial monogamist is single," Niall said by way of introduction when he sat down across from Harry in the canteen.

Harry sipped his chocolate milk. "What are you going on about?"

"Your alpha dream boat," Niall said. "That tiny little footie player? I heard from Hannah that he's broken it off with his boyfriend so he’s single and ready to flamingle. Now's the time to make your move."

Harry sipped his chocolate milk harder to keep himself from replying.

Or the one where Harry is an omega at a loss of how to get past his pining and gain the attention of Louis...especially considering the alpha is always in a relationship.

(twenty minutes later) wound up in the hospital by callmelover

“Baby, I think a quick trip to A&E might do you some good, hm?” Louis keeps his voice as calm as possible. He doesn't want to startle Harry or make him scared, but he knows that Harry’s fever is too high and he can't risk Harry choking himself into another attack when he's so poorly.

He hears a sharp intake of breath come for Harry and he knows Harry is starting to panic. Louis moves his hand from Harry's hair to his back, rubbing circles into his sweat-soaked shirt.

“No, no. Shh, don't worry, darling. Everything is okay, you’ll be okay. I just know that the doctors will be able to make you feel much better much sooner than I can...Just want you to get healthy as soon as possible, okay?”

-

or the one where harry has the flu and louis is a protective, nervous-wreck of a boyfriend

You live in my heart by styleztomlinson

As soon as they’re done with their set, Louis only has one thing on his mind and that’s to get out of there as soon as possible.or,Harry is sick during their performance at the iHeartRadio festival. Afterwards, Louis takes cares of his baby, and dotes on his husband.

Take Care by secretlylarry

Louis really does love to take care of Harry when he's sick.

if we got nothing, we got us by tumsa

Harry is Louis' baby and he's sick as well.

Peppermint and Lavender (and Coffee) by 2tiedships2

“He was there again,” Louis announced by way of greeting. “Lottie was right and she can never know.”

"What the fuck are you talking about?” Niall asked as he snapped his laptop closed.

“The omega, Niall. He was there today. Just sitting in the corner looking pretty. Or at least his back is. He hasn’t turned around when I’m available to see. I know he’s beautiful though.”

"Okay?” Niall questioned. “What does that have to do with Lottie?”

Louis let out a huff. "She told me I shouldn’t work at a coffee shop. She was right.”

Or the one where Louis might have met the love of his life in a coffee shop. But that’s not how it’s supposed to happen.

So Long I've Been Waiting by kikikryslee

Niall held up his glass in a toast. “Cheers.” Harry stared at Louis as he brought the glass up to his lips, unsure of what to do. It wasn’t like he could refuse the drink, but he certainly didn’t want to have any champagne. Louis monitored everyone else, and as soon as they all had their heads tilted back, drinking their mimosa, he reached out and knocked Harry’s glass right out of his hand, sending it crashing to the floor. “Oh, no!” Louis pretended to be shocked at what had just happened. “Harry, you’re so clumsy. You dropped your glass.” “Yes,” Harry said seriously. “I am very clumsy.” --- Or, the one where Harry and Louis are having their first baby, and keeping it a secret until the end of the first trimester is a lot harder than they thought it would be.

Nothing's Gonna Stop Me But Divine Intervention by kikikryslee

“So… what’s next on the soul mate search?” Louis asked. “I don’t know,” Harry answered. “Whatever I’m doing isn’t working. I’m not finding him anywhere.” “He’ll get here. I know it." “Yeah. I know he’s out there somewhere; I just have to figure out where.” --- Or, the soul mate AU where Harry overthinks everything having to do with finding the love of his life, and Louis doesn't think there's a Mr. Right for him at all. It takes them a while to realize that their soul mate is the person they want it to be: each other.

We Made These Memories for Ourselves by supernope

Breath held, Harry squints his eyes open and focuses on the first stick. A blue line. Harry breathes out an unsteady breath. He’s pretty sure he read that one blue line is a negative, but he fishes the box from the bottom of the pile just to make sure.

“Negative,” he confirms, voice echoing around the small room. “Next.”

Now that he’s feeling a little less shaky, he scans the rest of the tests at once, is met with a headache-inducing mixture of pink plus signs and blue double lines. His heart rate picks up until it’s pounding triple-time in the base of his throat and the pit of his stomach, thundering in his ears and throbbing in his temples. He flips over the rest of the boxes slowly, but he knows what they’re going to say before he even looks.

[or, Louis is a footballer, Harry owns a bakery, and they're having a baby.]

taken by the wind by scrunchyharry

When he decided to move to London with his sister, Harry thought he would finally get to learn how to control his magic. He couldn't possibly have predicted that he would fall for her neighbour.

Or the one where Harry is a clumsy witch and Louis is making everything worse just by existing.

Piece by Piece by SadaVeniren

He rubbed his hand over his lower stomach and closed his eyes. Louis was going to lose his fucking mind.

(aka Harry tells Louis he's pregnant and it goes as expected)

And We Linger On by stylesforstiles

Harry is pouting. Louis takes care of him

There's a Hole In My Soul, Can You Fill It? by stylesforstiles

Sometimes Harry is so tired. Louis always wants to fix it.

one glance and the avalanche drops by Wankerville

It's strange, honestly, having someone so gorgeous in his kitchen, and not only physically gorgeous, but, like, the everything else gorgeous. The type of gorgeous that Louis wants his life to always be covered in. The type of gorgeous he wants lying in sweatpants and an old t-shirt on his couch when he gets home from class. The type of gorgeous he wants to have shoving crisps down the front of his shirt. The type of goddamn gorgeous he wants to kiss, and coddle, and like, love.

Which is ridiculous- he doesn't know him. Pfft.

(or an au wherein louis buys a christmas tree and harry is the boy in leggings who delivers it. they are a christmas classic.)

Do Not Falter (There's a Star Ahead) by LadyLondonderry

It's Christmas Eve, and every single one of Louis' family members are crowded inside his little flat. Really, what more could he ask for on his birthday?

The present he never knew he wanted - in the form of an omega from his past - might just make this his most memorable Christmas.

Right Here Waiting by lovelarry10

Louis and Harry are expecting a baby. Harry's heavily pregnant and nesting madly, determined to make their home ready for their baby.

Blow Out the Candles, Baby by iwillpaintasongforlou

Louis' been planning Harry's 20th birthday party for weeks, and Harry's too sick to move. Louis might be the kind of sap who tries to nurse him back to health with cuddles and jokes and cupcakes for two.

Never Let You Fall by iwillpaintasongforlou

Harry slips on stage and gets a minor concussion, and Louis insists that he spend the night in the hospital just in case. He then turns into a protective baby lion because that is his Harry and he'll be damned if anything happens to him on Louis' watch. Harry rolls his eyes a lot but doesn't really mind.

Asthma and Bad Jokes by Larry_Klaine_Stylinson

When Harry has an asthma attack on stage, Louis has to go and help him. He leaves Niall in charge of keeping the audience entertained.

All I Need is Oxygen (and You) by lululawrence

There are only two ways to navigate Bloomfield High School: become popular or make yourself invisible.

With the help of his best mate Niall, Harry’s introduction to high school hadn’t been half bad. Despite being a “bandie” – the lowest of the low in the ancient hierarchy of high school –Harry had somehow managed to survive freshman year relatively unscathed. So naturally, Harry would have been perfectly happy to resume his position of invisible trombone player number four for the remainder of high school. But one day something drastic happened, something that would change the course of Harry’s entire existence (probably).

It was the last football game of his freshman year, and the band was back in the stands after performing a rousing rendition of Bloomfield’s alma mater during half time. Harry was gracelessly wiping the slobber from the mouthpiece of his trombone when he saw him.

Louis Tomlinson.

Or...a High School AU where Harry is a bandie and Louis is the epitome of cool, so naturally, Harry must find a way to get his attention and win his affections.

i’d burn this city down to show you the light by you_explode

Harry's a sheltered rich kid and Louis's a punk with a heart of gold. They meet when Louis breaks into Harry's house, Harry obtains an instant and all-encompassing crush, and they spend the summer falling into a whirlwind romance.

put your head on my shoulder by wayfared

Niall gives Harry until the end of marching season to either a) make a move on Louis Tomlinson or b) get the fuck over him. Either is easier said than done. Basically, your High School AU with a drum beat.

we should get jerseys, 'cause we make a good team by ellisaco

Harry's not very good at football, but he's aces at cheering Louis on.

Snow by hlftanna

Louis hid something from him. Harry was 100% sure of that. He knew him better than he knew himself. And. He. Hid. Something. From. Him. Harry just hasn't figured out what. Because if Louis wanted to hide something from anyone he usually succeeded because he was Louis Tomlinson.

Use Your Words by zedi

based off this prompt: collage au where jock!harry always serenades flowercrown!louis with love songs in their music class. what nobody knows is that harry actually kinda means the words he sings.

But instead it's Louis as the jock and Harry as the flowerchild because I do what I want.

see the truth (it's me for you) by orphan_account

If you asked Louis the first day of his French Literature class what he’d be doing on the last, he’d probably never have guessed it would involve helping a poorly Harry Styles study for the final exam. Good thing he’s not a betting man.

(Or the one where Louis and Harry spend an entire semester ignoring each other after a one-night stand, only to come face to face when Harry manages to catch the stomach flu during finals week. Sometimes fate is funny like that.)

calling out for somebody to hold tonight by heartinsidemine

“Dunno why I can’t sleep,” is the first thing Harry says into the still, quiet night.

“New flat, new noises,” Louis murmurs, finally setting the kettle on the stove and turning properly toward him. “New responsibilities, too, eh? Second year, you’re working your way up in the world.”

Harry rolls his eyes, shaking his head. “Nothing’s really new, though, is it? I mean, the location, but… I’ve got the same job I had last year, same basic courses, same workload…” He sighs out, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“You and me are in the same boat, though,” Louis murmurs to him. He hates seeing Harry like this, even though rationally he knows that he can’t do anything about Harry’s insomnia. “Finding it difficult to sleep myself. Was gonna turn on the telly, maybe the cooking channel until I fall asleep. Care to join me?”

He doesn’t think twice about the offer before making it; it only makes sense. They’re both exhausted and they both sleep better with a cuddle, and anyway Louis would absolutely rather have a conversation partner than only the walls of his room for company.

Running Down To The Riptide by sweaterpawstyles

"I can't give you your present yet, Lou."

Louis furrowed his brows. "And why is that, my love?"

Harry smiled at his lap. "Because your present is under my sweater," he pulled his free hand that wasn't laced with Louis' and gently laid it on his stomach. "I'm pregnant."

Or

It's New Year's Eve and Harry has a surprise under his sweater

Song For The Springtime by sunshiner

“Cherry blossoms,” Harry mumbles. “The solution’s cherry blossoms.”

Uni AU.

the happiest place in our universe by tippytoetomlinstyles

Harry holds Louis’ hand and looks around at all the exciting and beautiful things and Louis looks at him because he finds him the most beautiful and exciting thing there is.

or the one where Louis takes Harry to Disneyland and Harry convinces Louis to wear Mickey Mouse ears to match his Minnie Mouse ears.

Made From Love by lovelarry10

It's almost Christmas, and amongst the preparations, Louis' realised something about his husband Harry.

Harry, however, seems to be oblivious.

Louis' determined to open Harry's eyes and make him realise the real magic that's happening this Christmas...

Another Constellation to Trace by screwstyles

Louis wiggles his eyebrows. “I’m winning that bet.”

“What bet?” comes Niall’s excited voice from behind them, followed by footsteps. “I wanna be in on the bet!” he shouts, prompting Harry to quickly roll down his shirt sleeve and straighten his shirt where it’s still crinkly after Louis’ hands.

Niall takes one look at them and purses his lips in a tight line. “Were you guys making out again? Isn’t the fire meant to die down a bit after eight years?”

“Trust me, the fire is still very much alive,” Louis winks at Harry. “One could even say it’s cooking something.”

-

Mpreg AU: Louis and Harry bet on who can keep Harry's pregnancy a secret for longer. Neither of them is particularly good at it, and it doesn't help that their soulmate tattoos make it even harder.

another pair of feet by honey_beeing

where Harry is pregnant and Louis is an oblivious idiot.

We Were Made to Love by supernope  

“Everything all sorted? Need help with the buckles? I know they’re a bit tricky in this compartment.”

The voice startles Louis out of his daze, and he turns toward the voice to let him know he figured it out. When he catches sight of the owner of the voice, though, his response dies in his throat. Whatever he had imagined the conductor of a children’s train that rides around the shopping centre in Leeds would look like, this is certainly not it.

Leaning through the window, arms folded across the sill, is a green-eyed angel with cherry red lips stretched wide in a smile and dimples flirting in his cheeks. A black conductor’s hat is the only confirmation that this is not some gorgeous stranger who’s come to flirt with Louis through the window of a children’s train, but is just a man doing his job.

[or, Harry drives a kiddie train in the shopping centre for the summer and is obsessed with babies, and Louis never stood a chance.]

here comes the sun by orphan_account

“Everything’s going to be fine,” Louis promises, his pink, chapped lips moving slowly in the cold. It matches the beanie on his head—pink, because they found out this morning that they’re having a girl and that’s just.

Harry’s going to be a dad. To a little girl. Five months from now he’ll be holding her in his arms, and she’ll be so lovely and small.

They’re going to have a spring baby and she’s probably going to have Louis’ eyes. What a blessing that would be. Harry crosses his fingers on the hand inside his pocket, hoping that she does. He’ll love her either way—blue or green or even brown eyes, it doesn’t matter—but he’d really like them to be blue, he thinks.

[Harry is a pediatric specialist, Louis is a neurosurgeon. All they want is a baby.]

So Put Your Hands In (The Holes of My Sweater) by Kat_rawr

“Are you gonna kiss me then?” He asks so quiet he isn’t even sure Louis heard him.

“I think it���s bad luck if I don’t.“ Louis’ breath is hot on Harry’s skin in the cold air. They stand in the dark; Louis’ face only lit up by the yellow-ish light from the street light a few metres away. The light over the door of their building hasn’t worked in years.

“Okay,” Harry says, and of course his cheeks heat up. There are definitely butterflies in stomach and his mouth is definitely dry.

or,

Harry and Louis go on a lot of not-dates

A Little Kind of Magic by Star55

A tiny tale of Louis' Very Important Birthday and Christmas at Hogwarts that Harry loves celebrating with his best friend whom he absolutely is not in love with. No matter what Niall says. (He's a little in love with Louis.)

it tastes like you, only sweeter by EmmyLouWho

Sometimes Harry hates being a second year, like when all his older friends get to go to Hogsmeade and he has to stay behind in the castle. Luckily, Harry has a Louis to make everything better.

For the prompt: “I’m not allowed to go to Hogsmeade but you always tell me stories about it and bring me candy from Honeydukes”

Sun-Dappled by QuickedWeen

Louis and his best friend Harry are in their seventh year at Hogwarts, facing down their future together. Louis has been in love with his best friend for as long as he can remember, and he begins to feel a sense of urgency as the second semester begins. Finally he hatches a plan to tell Harry about his feelings on Harry's birthday.

Sweet Like Sunshine by orphan_account

When Louis saves him from some seventh years bullying him on his lack of Quidditch skills, Harry takes offense. Louis offers to teach him to make up for it. They fall in love somewhere along the way.

Featuring one exasperated Niall, trips to Hogsmede and many flying sessions.

Follow Me Down This Time by supernope

Harry first noticed Louis in his second term at Hogwarts, and despite three years of inventing ways to stumble across Louis, he's never managed to actually work up the courage to speak to him. Also known as, self-indulgent Hogwarts AU, because every fandom needs Hogwarts AUs.

For Reasons Wretched and Divine by panicmoonwalk

Niall’s head was sitting in the fireplace, wide grin lighting up his features as flames licked the bright tips of his hair. Louis promptly dropped his tray at the sight.

“Bloody hell!” He yelled, half at the sudden appearance of Niall in the fire and half at the scalding cocoa he’d just dropped on his bare foot. “What are you doing?!”

Niall just continued to grin, clearly highly amused by Louis hopping on one foot and desperately trying to search for a weapon he could use to beat his friend’s head out of the fireplace.

“Well,” Niall began. “We’re going on an adventure!”

Or, the one where Louis and Harry’s Christmas holiday at Hogwarts is rudely interrupted when they’re dragged off on a tropical wizard’s vacation, featuring some angry centaurs, a spell gone wrong, and the ‘weirdest birthday anyone’s ever had. Ever’.

Loving with a Little Twist by hrrytomlinson

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know Niall! I just promised my mother I’m bringing my boyfriend - a boyfriend I don’t have - to Thanksgiving dinner. What should I do? I can’t call back and be like, ‘Oh yeah mom, that boyfriend I said that I have, I don’t actually have. Sorry to disappoint you.’ My life is ruined.” Harry returns to suffocating himself with the pillow.

Niall laughs and Harry growls at his best friend’s unwarranted happiness in this life-ending situation. Harry is fucked. Fuck. He needs a boyfriend. Fuck.

(or a thanksgiving themed fake/pretend relationship au)

everywhere (i wanna be with you) by itiswhatitisbutterfly

Harry and Louis meet because they have terrible friends, they fall in love because something feels right in a world of uncertainty and shifting grounds. Louis is an actor and Harry is a model at the top of his game, the best things in life are the most unexpected ones and the things that hit you when you are least expecting it.

Featuring winter in London, nights in Paris, early mornings in New York, burning heat in Monte Carlo and an enduring love spent transcending four corners of the globe.

on a wednesday, in a cafe by wreckedboyfriends

“What can I get for you today?” he asked without looking up, arranging the last of the pastries.

“Have any recommendations? Never been here before, actually.” Harry hit his head on the top of the case in his haste to look at the source of the voice. It was a really beautiful voice, small and high and just lovely, if a voice could be lovely. Harry thought so. “Alright, mate?” the man asked when Harry finally composed himself, rubbing the top of his head as he took his place at the register.

Harry opened his eyes, and fuck. If Harry had thought his voice was lovely, the man himself was on a whole other level. “Alright, mate?” He repeated and shit. Harry had been openly staring for quite awhile, hadn’t he?

“Yeah,” Harry replied, and it came out sounding like a semi trailer running over gravel. He cleared his throat. “Yeah,” he repeated. “Um, the cherry danish is quite good, I think. ’S my favorite.”

The man smiled. “One cherry danish it is, then.”

OR Harry’s spent the last year with six locks on his door, a pair of too-flamboyant boots buried in the back of his closet, and insecurity issues the size of a mammoth. Louis changes some of that, but Harry changes the most.

I Long For You by AnotherAnonymousWriter

Thirty minutes later, he's sat on a bench in Hyde Park with a book in his lap and a travel mug with hot tea in his hand. Not far from where he's sat, a group of boys are playing football and a bunch of children are chasing each other. Life is good.

Or at least, life is good until he hears a familiar “LOOK OUT!” and sees a football flying in the direction of his face.

And then everything is black.

(Harry gets hit in the head by various objects and falls for a boy with blue eyes.)

Let It Snow by thebrainisafunnyplace

Bakery owner Harry Styles is always cold, until he hires local university student, Louis Tomlinson to work as a cashier. When the storm of the year hits, the boys find themselves stuck together inside the bakery the night before Christmas Eve. Luckily, they have each other to keep warm.

everything i can arrange, every part of me you change by orphan_account

“Don’t you try that shit with me,” Niall spits the second he reaches Louis, pulling off the hood with force. “What the hell is this?” He plops down next to Louis on the empty bleacher and unceremoniously pushes a sheet of crumpled paper in his face.

Netflix and Chill Buddy Application

It’s like no matter how hard Louis tries, he can’t seem to run away from this stupid fucking flyer. All the girls (and some of the boys) in every one of his classes have been talking about it all week. It’s on every wall of every building on campus. Louis went for a jog last night and he nearly tripped and died over a loose one on the football track.

[Harry needs a big spoon and Louis refuses to let anyone steal his position. Based on this post.]

No words by becharlatan

Harry is a music student who never talks because he's a total introvert. Louis happens to bump into him by accident and as if like the constellations, the two have aligned their paths together despite their differences.

Sun Emoji Moon Emoji by mybeanieandme

For the prompt:

University!au: Harry works at a cafe as the busboy and Louis just really wants to get to know him. (Louis pines for an insecure Harry for a semester)

nonstop earthquake dreams of you by lumineres

And there's heat behind it, blazing, plasmatic, like stars crashing together, like an explosion in space, like a supernova, like a black hole--everything else sucked out of existence. There's no bed and there's no pillow and they're not lying down, just floating somewhere, somehow, and there's no room and there's no X Factor house and there's no Niall snuffling or Liam's deep, even breathing and there's no wind or traffic outside and there's no hum of the heating unit and it's all just Louis. All encompassingly Louis.

or, harry falls hard and finds louis already at the bottom

Kiss From A Rose by lovelarry10

Harry is the quiet one in the office no one ever notices. Until Louis does, that is. When notes start appearing on Harry’s desk, he ponders who is behind the kind words, oblivious to Louis’ attempts to get his attention...

Black Cat by lalune15

Inspired by this tumblr post (not asked or requested): fic where louis works at a haunted house jumping out at people and harry’s friends drag him along even though he doesn’t really like haunted houses. when louis jumps out to scare their group, harry freaks out and accidentally jumps into louis’s arms. louis just squeaks. harry ends up sitting there with louis the rest of his shift and totally doesn’t come back every night after that.

Be Mine, For Always by zams

Louis is happy when Harry is happy. That's what Louis wants, and so when Louis starts feeling weird when Harry cuddles with Liam, Zayn, or Niall instead of him, he keeps quiet. But the burning, uncomfortable feeling Louis gets deep in his stomach when he sees Harry contentedly nuzzling Liam's neck, or Harry's arms and legs tangled around Niall like an octopus, or Harry's face smushed in Zayn's stomach as Zayn plays with his hair only gets worse as the days go by.

Loosen Up My Buttons by softfonds

The beautiful man opened this bakery about a year ago. He remembered the exact day he came: a glum, rainy morning in the middle of February, which instantly turned brighter the minute he saw him. The man had come in with some paint buckets and tools, and Louis doubted he would be able to fix up the drab place all by himself. But as he walked down the stairs at the end of the day and saw the man standing there in the middle of a gorgeous pink and white shop, clearly proud of his work, Louis fell in love at first sight. If only he knew how to talk to him.

Usually, Louis knew how to flirt. He prided himself on it. But every time he looked at the beautiful man, he completely forgot how to form sentences, and there was no way he could go up to him only to make a fool of himself. That was the last thing he needed.

Or, Louis owns a tattoo shop called Pretty in Ink, Harry owns a bakery called Rolling Scones, they haven't been introduced, and Valentine’s Day seems like the perfect opportunity to finally talk to the man Louis has been pinning over for the past year. And they both end up with more love than they bargained for.

Coffee Cups and Football Boots by kimtaedumb

Harry’s stood behind the counter again, but this time he’s painting his nails. Louis strolls up to the counter and, thanks to his no brain-to-mouth filter, blurts out, “Isn’t that a little girlish, Haz?” leaning closer to inspect.

Harry lets out a little huff as his hand slips, “Oh, damn, now I’ve messed it up,” he pouts and turns to Louis, “Why should making myself feel pretty be girly?”

Louis holds up his hands in surrender, “’M not judging, jus’ curious is all.”

(The entirely cheesy and cliché Christmas AU, in which Harry doesn’t give a damn what people think about him – mostly – and Louis may be a little bit in love.

Alternatively, the one in which Harry owns a café that’s barely scraping by and Louis is a footballer and he takes Harry away for Christmas.

Featuring Zayn as a cocky little shit that most definitely needs to be put back in his place, Niall as the loveable Irish dude who drinks too much and flirts with Zayn more than the average girl, and Liam who loves everyone but hates them all at the same time.)

you make my whole world feel so right when it's wrong by orphan_account

“Curly?” Louis says, stepping into Harry’s sight. “You okay?” Harry looks up from where he has two things in his hands, a thick winter coat sized for a newborn, and a sweatshirt fitting a grown man such as himself. He looks up at Louis, stricken, and holds them out for him to see. “They’re the same price,” he says. “They’re both forty dollars! Forty dollars for such little material.”

(or, Harry is pregnant and stops at the mall to buy cheap baby clothes. Louis has extra money from working a long shift, and he can't think of a better way to spend it than on him.)

you were the ocean, i was drawn into you by by orphan_account

where harry takes pictures and worries too much and louis plays guitar.

i'll be your sunflower by scagnetism

“What do you think’s gonna stop us now?” Harry says cheekily, laughter in his voice as he looks up at Louis. “Something’s gotta get in our way like always, doesn’t it?”

“Ha,” Louis grins, kissing his cheek and holding open the door for him as they make their way toward the car. “Nothing’s gonna interrupt us this time. ‘S gonna be perfect, just like Pumpkin.”

Or, a few interruptions aren't going to stop Harry from having a perfect pregnancy and having the family he and Louis have always dreamed of.

Send Me Your Pillow (The One That You Dream On) by flowercrownfemme

Harry is embarrassed to realize he's nesting but can't stop stealing Louis' things for his nest.

Short fluffy o/o gaybo drabble with lots of cuddles and softness and sock stealing <3

As one we are everything/We are everything we need by louloubaby92

Harry finally marries the love of his life. He's got the mating mark, he's got Louis' ring on his finger.

And now, he's on his honeymoon. Louis is but a door away, waiting for him.

Honestly, he doesn't understand why he's nervous.

only guilty of loving you by sweetrevenge

After Harry gets set up with his co-worker's alpha friend Louis, he's expecting some pleasant conversation, free dinner, and maybe a new friend. What he doesn't expect, however, is that Louis' arrival in his life begins a life of crime Harry never knew he had in him.

A You've Got Mail!AU with a twist.

[tanzaniiite]

hi i hope ur doing okay🥺!! Can I request a fluff scenario where older kuroo and his s/o are cuddling and he's rubbing his palm against her belly which seems bigger than usual and thinks that shes pregnant since they haven't been careful lately (he's excited about being a dad so he's :D!!) but turns out that she just ate too much for diner and she suggests rlly trying to have a baby after seeing kuroo so enthusiastic? Thank you so much :(💗✨

JUST A THOUGHT • KUROO T.

requests: OPEN

warnings: none!

word count: 1.5k

a/n: omg yes anon we’re on the same wavelength, i live for this shit. thank you so much for the request! 😊

part two

send me more shit like this, 🅱️lease

“Hey princess! I’m home!”

You looked up from your work as the door closed gently. You watched as your boyfriend took off his shoes and tossed his gym bag on the couch. "Excuse me sir, get your smelly gym clothes off my couch" You teased, getting up to greet him. Kuroo feigned a wounded expression, "Uhh babe, my clothes do not smell" He retorted, his hands grabbing your waist and pulling you closer.

You smiled and leaned up to peck his lips, "Your body odor begs to differ" You say, scrunching up your nose and turning on your heel. You hear Kuroo gasp dramatically and you giggle to yourself. "Ugh, you're so mean to me Y/n. What's for dinner?" He asks, hugging you from behind. You roll your eyes playfully, knowing exactly what your horny boyfriend was trying to do. "Hm, let's see.. how about a shower?" You ask rhetorically, turning around to face him.

"What? Seriously?"

"Yeah, seriously. I just cleaned these counters Testu"

He groaned as he went towards the bathroom like a grumpy child who didn’t want to take a bath. You shake your head and turn back around to get dinner ready. Moments later Kuroo pops his head out, "At least join me?" He pleads. "Testuro." You say, without even turning around. "Okay okay, I got it" He mutters before returning inside the bathroom.

"Oh? Did you actually comb your hair this time?"

Kuroo fake laughed as he dried his hair, "Ha ha ha, you're hilarious babe" He mocked. You smiled widely at him, "I know right? Maybe I should quit my job and do stand up" You replied, washing your hands in the sink. Testu rolled his eyes and kissed your cheek. "Dinner looks great, are your parents coming over or something?" He inquired, reaching for the gyoza.

You smacked his hand, "No, I just don't feel like cooking every day this week. Whatever we don't eat will be leftovers. Wash your hands" You explained. "Ah well, I'll have you know I have a big appetite," Kuroo said, nipping at your neck. You let out an annoyed sigh, "Testu, your hands. Wash them" You stated, putting down the plates. "Ugh, you're no fun" He whined, going to the sink.

You and Kuroo laid in bed, watching some show on your TV. It seemed like you would be able to go to sleep without any of your boyfriend's traditional before bed antics. But even you knew that was stretch, especially when he burped in your ear. "Ew Testu, you're disgusting" You cringed, turning away from him. "Aw come on, I know you love it," He said, turning you back over to face him.

"I don't like your burps babe, it's gross"

Kuroo scoffed, "It's the circle of life, especially when your girlfriend makes a kick-ass dinner" he complimented. "Flattery won't get you in my pants" You laughed, as Testuro feigned a hurt look. "Do you think that all I think about is sex? I'm wounded princess" He claimed. You rolled your eyes, "No I don't think that but I know it takes up a good chunk of your thoughts" You say, tapping his forehead lightly.

Your boyfriend's fingers ran up and down your forearm, "Since we're on the topic of sex, you okay? We haven't y'know.. done it in a while" He asked. You shake your head, "I'm fine babe, my sex drive just isn't as high as yours. But if you behave, we can do something tomorrow" You promised, placing a kiss on his lips. Kuroo smirked, "Oh yeah? I look forward to it" He replied as his hand starting trailing down to your stomach and rubbing it gently.

"Testu.. are you trying to make me fart?"

Kuroo let out a loud laugh, "Maybe. I can't be the only gross one in this relationship" He said. "Ugh, whatever man" You retorted, closing your eyes. Testuro looked at your stomach with piqued curiosity, was it just him or did your stomach look bigger? Feel bigger? He didn't want to get his hopes up but maybe–

"What're you all smiley about?" You asked, peeking at your boyfriend with one eye open. "Nothin'" He hummed, continuing to rub your stomach. Maybe you were pregnant and you didn't know? Or maybe you did know and was waiting to surprise him? Oh, what if– "Okay babe, talk to me. You're never quiet unless you're asleep, what going on?" You ask, turning on your side and looking at him with concerned eyes. "I'm alright... random question: when was the last time you got your period?" He asked, looking you in the eyes.

You laughed thinking he was joking but when you saw his face you stopped, "You serious?" You asked. Kuroo nodded, waiting for an answer. "Uhh, about two days ago, why?" You answered. Testuro's face dropped a bit, he knew he shouldn't have gotten his hopes up. They were crushed before they even festered. You placed a hand on his cheek, "Hey.. what's up? You're acting weird all of sudden" You whispered. Kuroo just sighed, "It's nothing, just a silly thought" He mumbled. You must've looked unconvinced cause Kuroo kissed your forehead and dismissed the conversation.

"Let's get some sleep, ‘kay?"

This has been gnawing on your mind for the past week. You knew your boyfriend and you knew he wasn't telling you something. He was fine earlier in that evening, cracking jokes and being his usual stupid self. But when you guys started cuddling he got all weird and even asked you about your period. What the hell was that about anyway?

"Y/n!"

Your head snapped up, "Oh. Sorry" You apologized. Kiyoko just smiled slightly, "You seem to have a lot on your mind. Penny for your thoughts?" She asked. You chuckled breathlessly, "I don't even know what's going on, Testu's acting weird" You claim. Kiyoko raised an eyebrow, "More than usual?". You laughed, "Yeah something like that. Enough about me, so you and Tanaka huh?" You asked, holding her hand to admire the engagement ring that adorned her ring finger perfectly.

Kiyoko chuckled, "Yup, he finally wore me out" She stated. "Lucky you, I don't when Testu is gonna purpose. But probably no time soon since he bought this expensive ass promise ring last year" You vent, looking at the ring on your finger. "Yeah.. but you never know. I didn't even know Ryu had money in savings, let alone the money for an engagement ring" She explained.

"But back to you, Kuroo is acting weird. How exactly?"

You explained what happened last week to her. Kiyoko hummed and sipped her tea silently. "It sounds like he thought you were pregnant" She stated, placing her cup down gingerly. You almost choked on your coffee, "Huh?!" You exclaimed. "Yeah, I'm surprised you didn't come to that conclusion on your own. He asked you about your period" She said. You placed your face in your hand, "Okay.. but why on earth would he think that?" You asked rhetorically.

"Well you said he was rubbing your stomach, maybe you gained weight and he figured it was baby weight?" Kiyoko guessed. You blushed slightly, "We literally just finished eating, I was bloated," You say defensively. "Hmm, have you guys been using protection lately?" She asked. "Well, not really" You answered, sipping your coffee. "Ah, that's why. You haven't been using protection and you were bloated. He probably thought he put two and two together" Kiyoko shrugged.

"Ugh boys are so stupid"

"You said it"

"I'm home!"

You turned to the door from your spot on the couch, "Hey baby, how was work?" You asked. Kuroo shrugged, "It was alright" He replied plainly. You grit your teeth slightly, before getting up and standing in front of your boyfriend. "Okay, enough of this. Tell me what's wrong or we're going to sit here until I guess correctly" You state, crossing your arms over your chest. Kuroo sighed, clearly tired.

"Princess I already told you, I'm–"

"You thought I was pregnant"

Testuro looked at you with a shocked expression, "What?" He asked. "Last week. When your whole weirdness thing started, you thought I was pregnant. Right?" You pressed. Kuroo tried avoiding your gaze but you weren't having any on it. "Testu." You warn. "Okay fine! Yeah, I did, it was a stupid thought" He sighed. "I– the thought of being a father really excited me and when you said you got your period, I don't know.. it kinda bummed me out" Your boyfriend explained, looking anywhere but your face.

You grabbed his face gently, positioning it to look at you. "Hey. That's not a stupid thought. Do you know how many times I think about having kids with you? Too many times. I'm glad we're on the same wavelength when it comes to that. Not too many guys are keen on kids when they're still in their twenties y'know?" You replied, resting your forehead on his. Kuroo let out a relieved sigh, "Yeah, good thing I'm not like most guys, huh?". You giggled, "Yeah you're really one of a kind, your pull out game is on point. Most guys can't do that" You jest. Testuro rolled his eyes but looked at you with complete love and admiration, "Well, what would you say if I wanted you to put a baby in me right now?" You asked.

Kuroo pursed his lips in fake thought before grinning widely,

"I would say: let's fucking go"

tanzaniiite © 2020 — all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, or copy. do not plagiarize. thank you.

[boxofbadaddiction]

Whoever Broke Your Heart

George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Cheating. Guy who doesn't understand the word "no". Teeny Tiny bit of Swearing.

Opening a Joke Shop was the best idea Fred and George ever had. It's what they were meant to do. What made them happier than one would think possible. At least that's what George had been trying to convince himself for the past few hours.

To tell the truth, this past week had been the most stressful so far, and they worked through the beginning of a war!

But now that that was over and Diagon Alley, like everywhere, was beginning to return to the new normal, the Twins had been flat out. Kids were preparing for the school year and in addition to their shop being near capacity every single day, mail orders were through the roof. It'd been like this for the past 3 weeks, but this week...This week could not possibly get any worse!

Between the eight new complaints from angry family members after falling victim to one of their products. To the three ruined displays after a customer 'accidentally' set off one of the boys 'Crazy Creatures' feature Fireworks which sparked a Lion to pounce throughout the store, until the Twins got it under control, it had managed to take out it's fair share of shelving and they had to close the store for a little over an hour to clean up. On the brightside they sold twelve of those that day after everyone saw it in action. Now, however, there weren't enough fireworks in the store to distract George from the mountain of paper work he'd been ignoring. Or from the fact he still couldn't get his latest invention to cooperate. He has completely HAD IT. In his opinion this week can well and truly go and get fuc-

"OI GEORGE! You're not still working in there are you!?" Fred called as he made his way to his brothers room.

Sure enough, there his Twin was. Slumped uncomfortably in his desk chair working reluctantly on the paperwork he'd neglected. With his head propped up by his palm he didn't even acknowledge his brothers entrance.

"For Merlin's sake, George. The stores closed mate, give yourself a break for a minute won't you?" Fred walked over to glance at the work spread haphazardly over the desk top.

"Later. I'm nearly done." George murmured.

"Bollocks you are." Fred replied lifting several order sheets from the pile to read through them. "You've been working non-stop lately, just let it slip for tonight, mate."

"I can't Fred!" He snapped in frustration. "We're so far behind it's ridiculous. I can't let it go because it needs to be done before open tomorrow!"

"We're not open tomorrow, George! It's Sunday!"

"What?" He looked up confusedly at his calender on the wall. "It's the 31st?"

"No." Fred dropped the papers in his hands and flipped the page of the calender, picking up a red marker which he used to circle the date. "It's the 5th, you numpty."

George threw his Quill onto the desk and pushed himself back into his chair, rubbing his eyes in frustration before running them through his hair with a groan. He had a whole day to get this done tomorrow. But here he was rushing through it like last minute revision before an exam because he can't keep track of what day it is. He relaxed at the thought of more time. Fred patted his shoulder with a slight chuckle, noticing much of the tension he'd been harbouring melt away.

"Worried for nothing" he joked. George looked up at him with a glare. Freds face dropped slightly, seeing the bloodshot whites of his Twins eyes and the dark circles beneath them. "Bloody hell...you really need a night out of here."

George stood to stretch his aching back and sighed satisfactorily as it cracked in several places. "Yeah. Maybe I do" he spoke honestly.

"Tell ya what, Georgie. I was gonna continue work on that Dragons Breath Candy of yours tonight anyway so" he dug his hand in his pocket and pulled out a bunch of coins counting quickly, "here's twenty galleons. Get out."

George tilted his head in question.

"Go eat, or drink, whatever. Just get out."

George wasn't feeling particularly energetic for a night out and opened his mouth to protest, but Fred was having none of it.

"UH! No. Take a shower, cause you reek. Then leave and I don't won't you back till you're truly hammered. Hear me?"

His brother smiled half-heartedly and sent up a mock salute with a playfully stern expression.

Feeling far more refreshed than he had 20 minutes ago thanks to a good hot shower, George readdied himself to leave, grabbing his keys then quickly apparating to the entrance of the Leaky Cauldron. True, it wasn't a particularly long walk but honestly...he just couldn't be bothered.

The Pub was decently full but given the fact it was barely past eight on a Saturday night, one would actually consider it quite empty.

Shuffling past the groups of people drinking and talking throughout the room he quickly made his way to the bar. He stood to the right of what appeared to be a couple, leaning his body against the counter as he ordered a Fire Whiskey. He pulled a vacant stool toward himself to sit down as he paid for his drink. He simply sat, contently sipping his beverage, listening to the music as he felt himself relax considerably finally having time away from the stress of work. A few minutes passed before something to his left caught his attention. The couple he'd sat next to, or rather what he now gathered was an uncomfortable woman and some insufferable git who clearly didn't understand the word 'no'.

He was relentless in trying to persuade the woman to join him for a dance...then a drink...then how bout a date...then a-OKAY! George had heard enough.

"Oi, mate." He shouted slightly to be heard over the noise of the room, he tapped the man's shoulder to make it clear he was the one he was talking to. He turned slowly with a sour look of disgust at the interruption. "Give it a rest won't you? She's clearly not interested."

The girl shifted slightly in her chair, distancing herself from the man who refused to leave her alone. She clutched her drink within her hands tightly, trying to appear invisible one would assume.

"You with her are you?" The man spoke as he turned his body to face George, eyeing him with a rude expression.

"No."

"Then sod off. You're not one to know what she wants."

"Given the 8 times she's told you 'no' in the past 5 minutes I'd say I know exactly what she wants. For you to leave her alone."

The girl couldn't help but smile slightly at the redheads boldness of words. The man on the other hand was quickly becoming agitated. He straightened himself and took a menacing step forward, nostrils flaring. George didn't budge. Unphased by the man's movements, he simply sipped his drink with a deadpan expression.

"You tryna spark a problem, buddy?"

"Merely attempting to resolve one." George spoke smoothly.

"I don't see one here needing your help." He hissed.

"That'd be because you're it. So unless you'd like me to conjure you a mirror I'm afraid you'll remain quite blind." He took another sip of his drink. "The girls not interested. Leave her alone."

"Oh she looks plenty interested to me" the angry man spoke "just playing hard to get" he smirked stepping back a pace and wrapping his arm around the woman's side. George noticed her cringe at the contact moving away from him in her seat.

George placed his drink on the counter and stood slowly. His movements making the man drop his arm and puff his chest to appear bigger than he was. Stares never leaving one another as the redhead turned his body to face the arrogant man, looking down on him as if he were something unpleasant stuck to his shoe. Towering in comparison, a good head taller than he was caused a flash of unease to spead across the face of the offender. Evidently he had not realised the full size of the man infront of him while he was seated.

"Leave." George spoke in a deep and threatening voice. Eyes like daggers peircing all confidence the man before him previously held.

In an attempt to gain some composure and try not appear to be fleeing the git scoffed. Throwing a lame insult at the two of them before grabbing his drink and sulking away into the small crowd. George stood in place like a statue until the man had disappeared from sight completely. Posture and expression immediately softening as he turned back to the woman by the bar "are you alright?".

"Fine. Thank you." She spoke swiftly. Not turning to face him clearly wanting to be left alone as her body was still stiff and rigid. George looked at her unsure of what to say. "Do you need anything?".

"No. I'm fine. And I'd appreciate being left alone." She snapped turning her head ever slightly toward him as she did so. He tried to not take it personally as he noted the emotion held in her eyes and the slight tremble in her lips. The way she sat as if trying to restrain herself from something. Her drink, obviously bought long ago as the ice had all melted and the condensation had formed a large ring around the base of her glass. She'd probably been here long before that tosser showed up.

George sat, facing back to his glass not wanting to disturb her any further. She was beautiful he thought, and had the circumstances been different he probably would have been tempted to buy her a drink. But he knew now definitely wasn't the time, even if he just couldn't shake the feeling he needed to say something.

He eyed her curiously and cautiously, not wanting to appear as another weirdo incapable of understanding boundaries. Watching her stare sorrowfully at a Golden Diamond ring she fiddled with in her hands, a tear slipping down her cheek. It all made sense now. He raised his drink slowly to his lips, looking forward.

"Whoever broke your heart, must have been crazy."

She turned to him instantly, a very confused expression on her face as she watched him toss his head back to finish his drink. He signalled to the bartender for another before turning his head to look at her.

Mouth agape slightly as she furrowed her brows at him. He couldn't help the smile that came at her reaction, he nodded toward the ring in her hands.

"Engagement ring, is it not?" He reached for his new drink without taking his eyes off her. She stared at it for a moment before answering solemnly. "It was."

She bit her lip while turning the ring over on her finger tips, as if unsure whether or not to continue. George reminded silent, not wanting to force anything from her she wasn't comfortable with. "I caught him cheating little over a week ago."

"He's a git." He said abruptly taking a mouthful of whiskey. The girl laughed at this turning to look at him.

"You sound so sure."

"I'm certain."

"You don't even know his name"

"No, but I've got a couple for him."

She laughed loudly this time, having to look away from him to compose herself. George could have listened to that laugh all night, he was suddenly very thankful for Fred all but pushing him out of the flat earlier.

When she turned back to face him her cheeks were burning pink and she'd bit her lip slightly. He was taken by her completely. Which is stupid, he thought, because he doesn't even know her name. Shit. He doesn't know her name!

"I'm George, by the way" he reached his arm out to her.

"[Y/N]" she smiled taking his hand.

"Can I buy you a fresh drink?" He nodded toward the warm, flat beverage sat infront of her.

Hesitating slightly she stared into his eyes before nodding with a sincere smile.

They spoke for ages about Everything. Nothing. Hell anything that came up. He couldn't work out how someone could possibly have said goodbye to a girl like her. Nobody in their right mind could. He was smitten, with all of her. The way she smiled. Her laugh. They way she bit her lip when she tried not to blush. The way she played with her hair. He was oblivious to everything in that pub except her. As she was with him.

That was until the distinct sound of her favourite song peirced her ears. She hadn't taken her eyes off him for more than a second since he bought her that first drink, and there'd been a lot since then. Suddenly she was looking over at the band in the corner, smiling.

"I love this song"

He didn't know why the idea came to him, probably from the overwhelming urge to touch her he's been resisting for so long. To hold her. Kiss her. Guess this works as well...

He stood, finishing his drink in a single gulp and held his hand out for her. "Come on."

"What?"

"We're going to dance" he grinned at her.

"Oh, no. I am a terrible dancer!"

"Same, love. No excuses." He winked at her taking her hand and pulled her up.

"One second" she pulled back a step but kept her hand in his. She turned to grab her mostly full drink, chugging it and placing the empty glass back against the rest, before turning her attention back to him.

George let out a haughty laugh at the action. Her grip on his tightened as she glared playfully at him, then taking the lead walked out onto the dance floor where he twirled her around and they danced next to one another not caring about how silly their moves must have looked as neither cared they couldn't dance.

They stayed out there the rest of the night, until the band announced their last songs were coming up. Slow songs. All couples on the floor began to move together. [Y/N] glanced around nervously before her eyes trailed back up to him, he was smiling down to her. Hand outstretched. She took it willingly and he pulled her into him where he began to sway.

"And you said you couldn't dance" she joked as she noticed he'd clearly done this before. He shrugged. "May have learned a move or two at school".

As the music went on the two of them only got closer, his arms wrapped around her as she lay against his chest. George let his chin gently rest on the top of her head, eyes closed enjoying the moment. It was perfect. Until, he felt a notable sigh leave her chest. Not at all content. It was sharp and she was obviously thinking about something she rather wouldn't be. He pulled back slightly to look down at her.

"Hey...what's up?"

"Sorry." She spoke to his chest "I didn't mean t-I just..." stumbling over her words she mentally kicked herself for ruining the moment. Taking a step back as she shook her head, she let go of him. George felt cold without her. "It's not you. I just-"

"You were thinking about him."

[Y/N] looked up at him with sad, apologetic eyes.

"It's okay, [Y/N/N]" he closed the space between them and ran his hand down her shoulders to her elbows. "I understand."

"It's just...all this...the slow dancing, the feelings I have right now..."she stopped herself, staring down at her shoes.

"Hey," he moved to cup her face in his hands. Bringing her face back up to look at him. His brows were furrowed and he had such a sincere look on his face [Y/N] could have melted right there. How could someone she only just met hold so much more love in his eyes toward her than her ex-fiancè ever did? "I like you." She spoke before he could. Georges eyes widened at the words, a smile began to creep on his face. Her hands came to rest on his arms as his hands fell to hold below her jaw. "I just...I don't know how you can be looking at me like that. When you barely know me, but then I was with-" "the git." She laughed at his interruption but still dropped her head to stare at the floor sadly "When I was with, the git, for 3 years and he never..."

"Listen to me." George ducked himself, as his finger tilted her chin up to look at him, "You deserve so much better than him. I don't have a clue how a prat like him managed to wrangle a winner like you but..." his eyes were flicking frantically between hers, desperate for the right words, "whoever couldn't see the girl that I see right now wasn't looking at you, love. If I know one thing is true...if you let me, if you give me the chance. I'll never be like whoever broke your heart."

Tears were forming in her eyes. Biting her lip as a smile began to form. She nodded slowly. Then quickly as she threw an arm over his shoulder and around his neck to pull him into a kiss, followed swiftly by the other. His hands fell to her waist. They felt perfect together. [Y/N] couldn't believe she'd nearly married some cheating git, when there was a man like this out there. A man so full of love, and compassion and pure joy he could light a dark room with nothing but his smile.

As the song that was playing slowly faded to an end the two finally parted lips, smiles so giddy they felt like Second Years again. She fell back into his chest as her arms came down to wrap around him, eyes closed listening to the sound of his heart beat and breathing as the bands last song began to play.

"I kinda wanna thank him." George spoke. She looked up at him, mouth slightly agape, brows furrowed, utterly confused. He couldnt help but chuckle at the look she was giving him. "Well, if he didn't do what he did, you'd never have ended up here in my arms." He smirked causing [Y/N] to roll her eyes before pulling herself back into him. "That's so cheesey" he felt her laughter quiver through his chest. He kissed the top of her head. "Get used to it"

[jalapeno-princess]

Cyber Sex

Mark Tuan X Reader

Word Count: 5.6K

Genre: Fluffy ass smut 

Warning: Masturbation, fingering, dirty talk, cussing, breast play

Summary: Your boyfriend Mark is currently in Japan for a conference and seeing you wearing nothing but his shirt leads to fingering yourself to his commands.

A/N: Based on the song “Cyber Sex” by Doja Cat. I am so excited for their comeback, I’m broke as a fucking joke but it’s fine. I’m FINE. Happy reading.

I wanna touch on you You see me in my room Wish you were here right now All of the things I'd do I wanna get freaky on camera I love when we get freaky on camera

The word tired wasn’t even enough to describe exactly how you were feeling right now. You were exhausted beyond belief to say the least. Being a full time college student; majoring in both criminal justice and journalism on top of having a full time job at one of the most prestigious and reputable law firms in your state wasn’t the most ideal situation, but you made it work. Well, for the most part. 

Your mental health these days has been at an all time low; you were being overworked to the point where you were afraid you could suffer from either a mental breakdown or panic attack at the rate you were headed. Unfortunately, the only person who knew how to keep you from completely reaching the brink of insanity was currently thousands of miles away from you. Your boyfriend of over three years—Mark; was in Japan for a very important conference that the company he was working for sent him on in order to represent his department. 

Although he was the youngest in his career field; Mark knew exactly what to say and do to build partnerships and to gain the trust of many other company shareholders. Your boyfriend was quite the charmer; sometimes you did grow jealous when you’d observe how some of his colleagues and a few of his clients would look at him in such a way that you thought only you were allowed to. 

As much as you wanted to be upset with the women who were bold enough to ask him out even if they knew he was in a relationship, you couldn’t really blame them for finding him attractive and attempting to make a move on him. Mark was the definition of a sight for sore eyes. He was gorgeous and exceedingly handsome—however, Mark was way more than just a pretty face, a well-defined and extremely toned body and a deep, raspy voice that never failed to get you groveling at your knees. 

He was extremely kind and generous to every single person he’s ever met in his life. You always considered him to be somewhat of an angel; an ethereal being here on earth because there was no way someone who was both ridiculously breathtaking on the outside was just as wonderful on the inside. Sometimes, you felt as if he deserved better than you. From a very young age, you never thought much about yourself; you didn’t care all too much about the way you looked, you didn’t consider yourself smart, funny nor did you have any impressive talent. 

However, Mark never failed to make you feel as if you were the most beautiful creature he has ever laid his eyes on. He reminded you both physically and verbally on a daily basis that he loved you more than anyone and anything on this he’ll forsaken earth. You were his person, his soulmate—the woman he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. You don’t know what it was that you did in your past life to be the lucky person to call him your boyfriend, but you would do it again and again if it meant having him in each and every lifetime. 

It was hard having to be away from him every now and then—especially on the days when you felt as if the entire world was against you for not doing anything right. Deep down, you knew you were doing the best you can but it was as if your best wasn’t good enough for other people. Since Mark was a day ahead but six hours behind, you were sure he had to be busy attending a convention or going over his notes to prepare for meetings he had mentioned to you a couple of times in the last week. 

As much as you wanted to call him just to hear his voice; even if it were just for a few minutes, you didn’t want to bother him. He had other things to worry about—the stress and frustration caused by your responsibilities would only worry him and you knew he didn’t need that. You made your way in to the bathroom and started getting ready to go to sleep. You wiped off any trace of makeup from your face, brushed your teeth and took off your clothes before throwing on one of Mark’s shirts. 

Right as you were about to throw yourself in to the comfort of your bed, you heard your phone sound off on the night stand and because you had a huge feeling it was Mark trying to get in touch with you, you practically flung yourself across the threshold and reached for your phone while flopping down on your sheets.

Babe: Hey, you didn’t let me know if you got home. Are you alright? Can we FaceTime? I miss seeing your pretty face so much. 11:27 P.M.

Whatever exhaustion you felt from earlier immediately disappeared; the want and need to talk to your boyfriend was far stronger than any amount of tiredness you felt. You got up and grabbed your laptop—preferring to look at him on a bigger screen since your vision wasn’t all that great from taking out your contacts. He was quick to answer before the first ring and you could feel your chest warm up at the sight of him. 

No matter what he wore, he always seemed to take your breath away. Whether it was a flannel and some skinny jeans or just a pair of grey sweats when the two of you would lounge around your shared apartment—a blush would always seem to rise on your cheeks just because he was so annoyingly attractive. However, seeing him in a suit; looking extremely classy with his hair pulled back so you could see the entirety of his handsome face made your stomach sore in the best way. God, why did he have to be thousands of miles away from you? 

“Baby!” You gave him a soft smile and sat up properly in order to get a better look at him. 

“Hey—are you right about to go in to a meeting or something? You look very handsome babe.” He gave you his infamous cheeky grin—one he always flashed whenever you would compliment him. Mark, even at the prime age of twenty-seven could still get so shy and flustered at the smallest little things. Especially whenever you would go in to detail about his charming features or how his cute little butt always looked good in a pair of slacks. 

He scratched the back of his neck in embarrassment before biting his lip. You were soon growing envious at the thought of how many women got to see him looking like a Greek-God while in his element. Although you have only seen a few videos of the speeches he would give at conventions and conferences, you observed just how confident he was when it came to his craft. When it came to talking with other people—sometimes even when the two of you would go out to dinner with your parents, he was always so timid and soft spoken. 

Yet, he seemed to change in to a completely different person in environments where he was meant to persuade clients in to buying stocks with his company. You couldn’t help but find it cute whenever he would act flustered around you—especially because in the bedroom and behind close doors, he was the complete opposite of shy. 

“Oh—uh, thanks. I actually just came back from a luncheon. It was boring as hell and honestly I didn’t hear a thing anyone had to say, I was too busy thinking of you. God, I hate having to attend these fucking conferences—I mean I love traveling; it’s not like we can really go around anyway and even if we could, I’d use all my free time talking to you. I hate any moment spent without you baby. Tell me about your day; how was work? Did you finally take that exam you’ve been studying for these last two weeks—oh shit. I didn’t realize what time it was there, I’m sorry baby. You must be tired, I can call you back tomorrow—“ 

You waved your hand out at him signaling that it was okay. Even if you had to be up in less than five hours, you were perfectly fine with the idea of getting no sleep at all tonight if it meant talking to your favorite person until the sun rose. 

“It’s fine Mark. I miss you too—so much. I can always message my professor and tell her I’m sick if I’m not feeling up to attending class tomorrow. Work was work; tiring and frustrating as it always is and school is well—school. Nothing new. I want to hear about you though—“

“We’ll get to me later baby. It hurts knowing that you’re going through something—I’m sure there’s more to it that you’re not telling me. I hate that you suffer by yourself and it’s even harder when I’m away and I can’t hold you and tell you that everything is going to be okay. But it will be and you know why? Because you have me. I got you y/n. You know you can always run to me—confide in me. That’s what I’m here for. To help carry your burden with you. I’m sure you’re well aware that I want nothing more than to carry your problems in your place. I would do anything just to make you happy—I hope you know that. I probably don’t say it as often as I should, but fuck—I just want to give you the whole world; the entire universe because it’s what you deserve.” 

You could feel the tears brimming at your eyelids and if he was there with you, you would probably playfully shove him for making you cry with his sweet words before leaving chaste kisses all over his face. One thing you admired about your boyfriend, on top of the infinite amount of other things was his way with words. Mark preferred to show you through his actions rather than tell you with his words exactly what you meant to him but when he did speak up about his feelings, your heart would combust in to a million different pieces. 

He even wrote you a couple of letters filled with love and adoration because he wanted to remind you when he wasn’t around that you were all he could ever want and need for the rest of his life. The two of you talked for around half an hour until you found yourself re-positioning yourself when your leg got a cramp for sitting on it too long. You didn’t think anything of it, but as soon as you fixed yourself, you were quick to notice how Mark’s jaw was now clenched as he began grazing his teeth along his bottom lip. 

You’ve been with him long enough to know what his ministrations and movements meant; those two in particular usually meant that he was either uncomfortable or horny. But you didn’t understand how he could be either; he was fine just a few seconds ago—why was he looking as if he was on the verge of a mental breakdown. 

“Hey Mark, everything okay?”

“Is that my shirt?” 

You looked down at his black champion tee that was practically swallowing you whole, just like most of his clothes that you’d find yourself wearing every now and then. He never failed to rave about how sexy you looked in his clothes and sometimes he didn’t have the willpower to let it stay on you for all too long before ripping it off and showing you the effect that seeing you in any of his clothes would do for him. 

Your hair was a mess, there were bags under your eyes and your lips were chapped from not feeling the need to moisturize them; so you didn’t feel like you were at all ravishing or attractive in any way. Surely, seeing you in his shirt couldn’t be the reason why he was riled up all of a sudden—could it? 

“Oh, yeah. I was so exhausted I just grabbed the closest item of clothing near the sink. Is there something wrong? It smells good. Just like you—wait, is it dirty? Did you not wash it yet? I can go change—“

“No no—shit—can you lean back or something? I want to see you, full body.” 

You did as you were told and pushed your computer further away from where you were sitting before moving back just a little in order for him to get a better look at you. It wasn’t till you saw him gulp as a whimper fell from the back of his throat did you know exactly what was going on. 

“Mark—“

“Fuck—you look so fucking breathtaking Y/n—so damn sexy—don’t get me wrong, you always look so beautiful. But when you’re in one of my shirt it’s just—why the fuck am I in Japan right now this is bullshit.” 

A soft giggle fell from your lips; whenever Mark would get horny, that was when he was the most vocal about his emotions. He was extremely vulgar and his words were always so dirty; so naughty. It was funny listening to him talk on the phone to his boss or a couple of his colleagues knowing just how filthy and lewd he could be during your love making sessions. Your boyfriend was the definition of dominant. 

There were a few occasions where he would allow you to take charge—when you would dominate him, you would put all your effort and energy in to driving him to the brink of insanity. The older boy didn’t know what he preferred; edging you until you would beg for him to let you cum, or being tied up to the bed while you ride him at an exceedingly quickened pace. You could feel the warmth building in between your thighs at his words on top of the frustration that he wasn’t there to help you with the forming orgasm you were now completely aware of. 

“You know babe, now that you’ve mentioned it—I do feel pretty warm in here. Maybe I should take this off.” 

You decided to mess with him; knowing that he was probably suffering and trying to hide the fact that he was definitely hard as a rock right now. His shirt was gently thrown to the side of the bed and soon your breasts were on full display for him. Watching his jaw drop at the sight of your bare chest only made you want to continue putting on a show for him. Slowly, you brought your hands up and cupped both your breasts in your hands—massaging and kneading your mounds all but gently before bringing your nipples in between your fingers and twisting them. 

Breast play had to be one of your favorite forms of foreplay; specifically because Mark—well, the asshole was good at every single thing he did. Sports, cooking and baking, education, singing, cracking unsolved mysteries and blowing your mind in more ways than one. His fingers; they had to be the prettiest fingers you’ve ever seen on someone before and you weren’t being biased because he was your boyfriend. 

Mark had such long, skinny fingers and he knew exactly how to use them. His hands were almost double the size of yours—yet your hands fit perfectly together as if you were made for one another. Although you were very insecure about your body, no matter how many times Mark practically worshipped it and reminded you how he loved every single one of your body parts; especially your face, breasts, thighs and ass, you’d be lying if you said you weren’t confident in your boobs. Honestly, your breasts were one of the only parts that you genuinely liked about yourself. 

Sometimes, you would wear certain tops that showed enough cleavage to get a rise out of your boyfriend and every single time, you did. Mark looked as if his eyes were about to pop out of his head and you had to stifle back a few moans from how good it felt. No matter how much you were enjoying this; playing with yourself in front of your boyfriend, you knew it would feel so much better if he was the one doing it to you. 

“Fuck Y/n, you’re going to be the death of me. Shit—what I wouldn’t give to be the one fondling your pretty titties. Fuck—just wait till I get home princess. I’m gonna suck the shit out of them; you’re going to regret this. You’re so beautiful—I can’t get over how gorgeous you are. You’re really going to kill me.” You gave him a smirk and playfully brought your bottom lip in between your teeth. “Mmm—Mark—feels so good—“

“I bet it does baby—you look so ethereal—twisting your perky nipples like that. But I’m sure it doesn’t feel as nice as it would if it were me. Shit y/n—I want to titty fuck you so badly right now. I swear, it’s like your breasts get bigger whenever I’m away. Should I show you just how crazy you’re driving me right now?” 

You immediately nodded in agreement; the desire to see Mark’s cock was seeping through your veins. You didn’t care if you came off too eager or too excited; it’s been almost three weeks since you’ve seen your boyfriend and even longer since he was buried balls deep inside of you. Sex wasn’t a huge deal in your relationship—well, it was both yours and Mark’s favorite physical activity, but unlike other couples, you cared about other forms of intimacy just as much as you did making love. 

Mark was a huge fan of cuddling, spooning and holding hands. Your boyfriend was extremely clingy and overprotective whenever it came to you; but that was just apart of his nature. He wasted no time in yanking off his slacks; the outline of his cock was prominent against his grey briefs. You could feel your mouth water at the sight; to some people, penises were very ugly, but something about Mark’s always had you on your knees—begging for him to shove it down your throat. His girth was long and extremely thick. As soon as he took off his underwear, you suddenly stopped your movements and eagerly leaned forward to get a better look at him. 

“Someone’s excited.”

“That’s the understatement of the year. I could cum right now just at the sight of your tits alone. Fuck—you’re the one who caused this painful ass erection baby, I wish you were the one who would solve it.” He spit on his hand and brought the saliva down to the tip of his cock; he lubricated himself and you could feel your breath hitch when he let out a soft moan. 

“Babe—fuck Mark, there’s nothing more I want than to suck you off—“ If this were under different circumstances, you were sure he’d let out a snarky chuckle like he normally would every time you made it clear that you wanted to blow him; or if you wanted sex. You were always so soft spoken; so modest and you hardly ever were vocal when it came to voicing your desires. 

You were more of the type to mess around with him; gliding your hands gently along his thigh, palming him through his pants and even hovering over his lap; grinding yourself against his dick while leaving wet kisses against the juncture of his neck. Whether it was because you were extremely turned on or because it’s been a while since you and your boyfriend were intimate, but sometime came over you and you felt yourself wanting to take over of this cyber sex session.

“Mark—close your eyes baby. I want to take care of you. Pretend I’m there with you and do as I say. Grab the bottom of your cock; bring your thumb along the vein and slowly pump yourself.” 

Watching the veins on his neck grow made it adamant that he was enjoying your dominance and you used that to your advantage. He let out a very faint whine; you wouldn’t have heard it if you weren’t giving him your full attention and you were well aware that if you were to touch yourself, you’d be soaking at this point. 

“Circle your thumb around your tip, and graze the slit as gently as possible. God Mark—I’ll purchase a ticket to Tokyo right now just to wrap my mouth around your cock.” This earned you a mixture of a laugh and a cough and you found yourself laughing along with him. 

“Is that a promise? We can put this on pause and I’ll buy one for you; you don’t even need to pack a thing. All I need is you—keep talking like that and you’re going to lose your voice once I get home. I know I keep saying this, but it’s because it’s true and I can’t get over it—you’re so fucking sexy. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but just know that I love you; with every breath I take and every single beat of my heart. I love you more than I will ever be able to express to you in words. As much as I want to continue going in to depth about the love I have for you, you can’t be having all the fun here. Take off your underwear y/n—I can’t believe you’re wearing that one. How did I forget to take it with me? I remembered to sneak the matching bra in my suitcase—“

“So that’s where it went, I’ve been looking for it since you left—weirdo.”

“Hey, you have your kinks and I have mine. Now—take off your panty and do as I say.” 

With a quick roll of your eyes, you stripped yourself free of your red thong and flung it across of the room. It was probably a mess now with all your pieces of clothing lying around, but you didn’t care. There was a flame burning in your core that you wanted to hurry up and get around to reaching your release. This wasn’t the first time the two of you had sex over webcam; but you felt as if this time would be different from your past experiences. 

Not only did you miss your boyfriend terribly, but you’ve been daydreaming about the last time the two of you made love the night before he left and you could still feel the way his cock stretched out your walls. Your fingers absentmindedly made their way down to your entrance; you brought your index and your middle finger in your mouth and sucked on them before returning them back down to your folds. 

“Fuck—fuck, fuck—such a pretty little mouth and an even prettier pussy. Tell me baby—who does that pussy belong to? Tell me while you drag your digits along your core y/n.” 

You traced your fingers back and forth along your entrance; gathering some of your essence on your fingers and bringing them back to your mouth. During most of your sexual activities—Mark, whether it would be when he would finger you or when he would eat you out, would have you taste yourself so you were well aware why he was so addicted to the way your pussy tasted. 

Although you were a big fan of giving him blow jobs, Mark was a professional at giving head. He ate your pussy like it was a delicacy and he was very vocal about how pleasuring you brought him equal amounts of pleasure himself. Next to fucking your tits and ramming himself inside of you, he loved going down on you. On the days that work was extremely stressful, or your classes were bombarding you with too many assignments; Mark would take care of you—either making you dinner or ordering your favorite food, preparing you a bubble bath, and sucking the life out of your pussy in order to take your mind off of your many frustrations. 

You sucked your fingers dry of all your pre-cum and let out a loud pop before returning them back to their previous position. Multiple swears and wanton moans left Mark’s mouth as he continued to guide his hand back and forth along his cock all the while watching you shove your fingers inside of your cunt. It felt amazing; anytime the two of you were intimate—even on the days you were both exhausted beyond belief and just gave each other oral to both reach your highs, you could never get over the feeling of ecstasy and euphoria that came over you every time Mark would bring you to heaven with his tongue. 

It was in that moment that you realized the last time you kissed him was almost a month ago. If your schedule wasn’t so hectic, you probably would have went with your boyfriend. The two of you were like magnets; everywhere you went, people could expect Mark to follow no matter where it was. Most boyfriends would get bored having to wait outside while their girlfriends went shopping, but Mark would follow you around to each and every store; he even gave his opinion on what he thought would look good on you and what he would love to rip off of you. 

To your dismay, he would pay for everything even against your many complaints but like he said, he just wanted to make you happy. He felt bad that he had to travel all around the world a lot, so he felt like he wanted to buy you a couple of things to make up for being absent every so often. 

There were days your boyfriend contemplated on quitting his job and finding one that didn’t require him to leave all the time; but this job had amazing benefits and because he was still so young, yet had a position that most of his coworkers twenty years his senior haven’t even experienced before, he knew he wouldn’t be able to find a job even half as good as the one he had now. But he would give it all up and even work as a barista or a cashier in a grocery store if it meant being able to see you, kiss you, hold you and go to bed with you in his arms every single day. 

“Damnit y/n—ahhh—you’re such a goddess—my pretty petal—pump yourself harder baby. Faster—tell me how it feels. Grab your clit and twist it in between your fingers; I bet you’re like the Pacific Ocean right now. I’m sure you’re just as tight as you are wet baby. Keep going. Pretend it’s me; burying my long fingers in that tight cunt of yours. I can just picture how good you feel clenching around me. Flick your clit; ugh, I miss nibbling on it and taking it in between my teeth. I miss the way you would tighten your thighs around my head—and don’t even get me started on how much I miss whenever you would ride my face. I don’t think I can handle being away from you much longer y/n—it’s not even just because I miss fucking you—I mean I do—God do I miss railing the shit out of you—but I miss you. So much. I miss seeing your contagious smile that I’m sure could cure cancer, and your laugh that never fails to light up an entire room. I miss your lips and how they meld perfectly against mind. I miss looking at your beautiful eyes and the way you tell a story with them. I miss being the cause of the blush on your cheeks. I can’t wait to finally finish here and come back home to you. Just a couple more days baby then I’m all yours okay. Have I ever told you how grateful I am that you’re so patient? Thank you for waiting for me y/n—I—love you—“ 

You could feel tears brimming at the corner of your eyelids. Although you were just moments away from coming on your fingers, his words tugged on your heartstrings. Sure, he texted you every single day and told you that he would much rather be home with you; sat in between your legs and leaning his head against your chest while he played video games—but it was so heartwarming hearing him describe every single thing he missed about you. 

“I miss you too Mark—I would do anything for you. I’ll wait for however long you need me to my love. I love you—I hope you know that you’re the only good thing I’ve got going for me. I don’t care what happens in the future; I just really want you in it.” 

The two of you continued your movements; you quickened your pace; you could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release. Your fingers felt so amazing being clenched by your velvety walls and you were actually doing really well with picturing that it was Mark fingering you. His movements were just as relentless and he even began fondling his balls. He tilted his head back and the sight made you whimper at how erotic it was. His neck; along with everything else on his body was long and you could still faintly see a couple of the love-bites you left on his collarbone. Before you knew it, you felt a sticky substance on your fingers and allowed yourself to come on your digits before releasing an embarrassingly loud moan. 

“Holy shit—that was so fucking hot. Suck your fingers for me baby—help me reach my release—shit, shit, shit—“ 

His semen squirted out in rapid spurts and you were upset that you weren’t able to feel him fill you up to the hilt with his warm, creamy liquid. His hair clung to his forehead as sweat dripped down the sides of his cheek. You were sure if you were to look in the mirror, your hair would be just as tousled and your cheeks would be flushed. 

The two of you spent a couple moments in comfortable silence; both coming down from your highs. He took a little while longer to come to his senses and you used this time to look at him in awe of just how breathtaking he was. This was a common occurrence right after the two of you finished your love making sessions; you would bask in each other’s presence and sometimes if you were still up for it, the two of you would talk until one of you would finally let sleep take over. Once you were both settled down, you gave him a soft smile and flopped on to the bed. 

“Honestly, I think I’m going to get a good nights rest now. Thank you baby, that was wonderful. I’m sure I would have came faster if it was your cock inside of me, but that was a good distraction nonetheless.” He beamed at you. 

“No, thank you. That was mind blowing as always y/n. I can’t wait until I have you in my arms—and on my cock. I love watching you as you cum—I wish you could see what I see, your expression when you reach your orgasm is so fucking tantalizing. I plan on having you the entire day when I come back home, so just be ready baby. Wait—you’re not going to bed naked are you—“

“Oh—I wasn’t planning to, but now that I know it’s probably going drive you insane—“

“You wouldn’t dare—fuck—just wait until I get my hands on you—“

You gave him a sultry smirk and began running your fingers in between the valley of your breasts. “Hmmm, I might just take the day off just to touch myself. Might even walk around the place naked. Too bad my boyfriend isn’t here to fuck me up against the balcony or up against the fridge—“ 

The growl that came from the back of his throat did not go unnoticed to you and you found the coil in your tummy tightening again. Only Mark Tuan could get you horny again minutes after getting you to come on your fingers. Even if he repeatedly called you sexy almost fifteen minutes ago; you felt like that word didn’t do him justice. 

“That’s it—I’m telling my supervisor I need to come home. Tonight. I’m gonna kiss the shit out of you then fuck the shit out of you.” 

You weren’t sure if he was just saying that in the heat of the moment, but you were soon growing excited at the thought of finally being wrapped in his embrace again. As much as you wanted to keep up the sexual banter; you came to the realization that Mark was only half naked. His dress shirt was soaked with sweat and his tie was flipped around the other way. He looked at you in confusion once you bursted in to a fit of laughter. 

“What’s so funny?”

“I hope you packed a few other dress shirts; you have cum stains all over the bottom.” He released a frustrated grunt before sticking his tongue out at you. 

“They’re all in my dirty laundry pile. I was planning on using this one for the rest of the week. See, even the more reason to come home tonight. I expect you on your hands and knees once I get home. As fun as it was watching you fuck yourself with your fingers through webcam, nothing compares to seeing the real thing in person. I think it’s time you go to bed, you’re going to need all the energy you can get for what I have in mind for the both of us. Sweet dreams baby, I’ll see you real soon.”

[drabbles-of-writing]

The Girl in Red

This is part of my Four Years AU

AO3

Masterpost

. . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Just because Lilith lived at the Owl House now didn’t mean that she had to give up on everything.

A big one of those things was Amity Blight.

It had taken a little while to settle in, but the young witches training would not stop simply because Lilith lived elsewhere now. And barely had any magic left.

Alright, so maybe there would be a few complications.

“What’s got you so worked up?” Eda wondered, poking her head in from the kitchen as Lilith gathered as many books on magic she could find.

And though she still didn’t understand it, she had stashed a few of Luz’s spare glyphs into them as well.

“I’m to meet my p rotégé soon.” Lilith said, fumbling as a glyph fell out of one of her pockets. “I arranged to meet her in the woods for some...outdoor training.” She said, clearly unsure of her own words.

“You mean that Blight kid?” Eda raised a brow. “You still train her?”

“Blight?”

Luz suddenly appeared in the doorway, looking around like she expected to see something exciting.

“Do you mean Amity?”

“Of course I do. I still train her.” Lilith snorted.

“Oh, oh! You could train her here!” Luz suggested, looking positively delighted at the thought. “We could train together! Eda’s still teaching me about wild magic, even if she can’t use it anymore.”

“My teaching method is far different than whatever Edalyn has been showing you.” Lilith said, giving Eda a side-eye.

“Yeah, and it works!” Eda stuck out her tongue.

“We could learn from each other,” Luz said, pacing the room in that way she did when she had too much pent-up energy. “It could be a fun training session! Please, please can Amity train here?” Luz begged, facing the witch and clasping her hands together.

“I’m not so sure…” Lilith hesitated.

Luz gave her puppy-dog eyes as she begged, and Lilith had to admit, she was good at it. She couldn’t tell if it came naturally or if Eda taught her that. Probably Eda.

“...very well,” Lilith sighed, shoulders sagging.

"WOO!” Luz pumped a fist in the air. “Training with Amity! Oh, I need to grab my glyphs!” She exclaimed, racing out of the living room and up the stairs.

“Don’t break anything!” Eda warned right before a loud thump and a faint ‘I’m okay!’ could be heard.

“I’ll have to check with Amity herself,” Lilith sighed, pulling out her scroll. “Though I take it she’s been here before?”

“Oh, yeah, the kid visited twice.” Eda nodded. “Once when she erased, like, all of some kids' memories and the other time was when she busted her foot about a week ago.”

“She erased someone's memory?” Lilith gasped, almost dropping her scroll.

“Kid said it was an accident and fixed it up, no big deal.” Eda shrugged casually. “Guess there are some things your protégé doesn’t tell you, eh?”

“Don’t patronize me.” Lilith grumbled. “How she became friends with your apprentice of all people, I’ll never know.”

“Mm, I have a few guesses.” Eda said, glancing off.

Training Amity with Luz and Eda was...a challenge.

For one thing, the way Eda taught Luz was rather...barbaric. Luz didn’t seem super thrilled about it either, though she did as Eda told. Amity was very confused at their antics, and possibly a little concerned.

Luz suggested Amity try it once, and that’s when the lesson first fell apart.

Luz and Amity quickly divulged into a mock-war of the two throwing mushrooms and pine needles at each other. To Eda’s credit, she tried to gain some sense of calm.

For the first twenty seconds.

She began egging Luz on soon after, doing nothing but encouraging the two.

Lilith gave up on the lesson for the day and went inside to make some tea. Amity stuck around for a few hours after the fact, and Lilith mentally noted how red she seemed every now and again.

The next lesson was done inside the Owl House. Eda had (grudgingly) allowed Lilith to inform the girls of how to cast larger illusion spells. Of course, she didn’t know how Luz was going to accomplish it, but the human insisted on listening all the same.

Multiple times Lilith would turn around and find the girls either whispering to each other, trying to stifle giggles, or staring at whatever Hooty or King were doing. Which ranged from eating bugs off the floor to getting stuck in a cardboard box.

Lilith swore she aged at least ten years in that house.

,

“I think we should stop the double training,” Lilith mentioned to her sister one day. It was while she was on Hooty-cleaning duty. Normally she wouldn’t, but Eda had the high ground. Also known as; bringing up the curse that still haunted them both.

“What? Why?” Eda inquired, leaning in the doorway as Lilith scrubbed a mop just above one of the first-story windows.

“Amity can’t pay attention with that human around.” Lilith said, snapping angrily at Hooty as he tried to come over and ‘help out.’ “She’s done nothing but cause trouble.”

“Maybe you should change up your teaching, then.” Eda said simply. “You’re teaching Amity the regular type of magic while Luz and I are teaching each other about wild and glyph magic. Those two don’t exactly mix well.”

“Amity is in the abomination track, I am not teaching her wild magic to become a criminal like you.” Lilith growled. “I’m happy teaching her other forms of magic, but that’s just in case she--”

“What? Joins the Emperor’s Coven?” Eda cut in, crossing her arms. “Lily, do you seriously want her going to that place after all that’s happened?”

Lilith opened her mouth to argue before slowly closing it again.

“The Emperor tricked you, kidnapped me, tried to kill Luz, and is apparently trying to find a way to the human world. And you want her to join?” Eda demanded with a glare.

“...it’s what she always wanted.” Lilith said quietly, setting down the mop. “She was always so excited to be able to learn other types of magic…��

Eda relaxed with a sigh and walked over, placing a hand on her sisters shoulder and gaining her attention.

“Well, I have a feeling she isn’t so keen on it now.” Eda said simply. “She’s still friends with Luz, you know. Besides, have you asked her what she wants to do now?”

Lilith looked away, almost mad at the shame she felt.

“And anyway, I think she’s having fun.” Eda said, turning her head to look through the window of the Owl House.

Lilith looked up as well, seeing Luz and Amity messing around with King, who was still a little angry at Amity for a previous grievance involving a cupcake. Amity was smiling and laughing as Luz was tackled by King and wrestled on the floor with him.

Lilith couldn’t name any recent time she’d seen the young witch so happy. Not since the last covention.

“And having fun is the important part.” Eda said, patting Lilith on the back.

“Well, if the great and powerful Eda says so.” Lilith rolled her eyes.

“I do say so.” Eda grinned. “Now get back to work! I have a house that needs to be cleaned.”

In the second month, training came to a screeching halt.

In that time, Luz had found zero ways to make it back home, like she thought she would.

As soon as September first had rolled around, Luz had been near inconsolable. The poor girl was frantic, sporadic, sleep-deprived, and unconsciously snapping at everyone the longer the minutes ticked by.

Amity was worried sick. Almost literally.

And Lilith would admit, she was concerned for the human as well. Luz, while definitely as chaotic as Eda, was a sweet, well-meaning kid. She was happy to work with and train by Lilith, and was full of life and excitement, even after all she had done.

To see her so panicked and on the verge of tears made her heart tear.

For nearly three months there was an almost non-stop search. Lilith swore they turned the whole town upside down looking for any clues on how to make a portal to the human realm.

They couldn’t find anything.

Luz had calmed in those three months, but not for the better. She was laying about, unmotivated, and in a general slump.

Lilith remembered when she was like that. Back when she had first cursed Eda, and had to live knowing what she had done had all been for nothing.

She did her best to comfort the human, and in a few weeks, she was getting better. Amity and their other friends all helped cheer up Luz, too. And slowly, the old Luz they knew was coming back.

As did the constant redness from Amity.

Lilith had noticed Amity’s red face during the first two months of training with Luz. At first she thought it was the heat, the circumstances, or that she was just sick.

But, no. Amity was fine...presumably.

It had vanished during the close-to three months of worrying over Luz, but once she started to come back, it arose once more.

Lilith would wander into the living room while Amity was visiting and she’d find the two of them sitting on the couch, talking about unimportant things. Luz would be leaning against Amity in some fashion, or just draped across her lap a couple of times.

Each time she’d find a faint heat in Amity’s cheeks. But as soon as Amity noticed her mentor had arrived, she’d light up and grow stiff.

At first, Lilith thought it was because Amity thought she was being caught doing something wrong, like not training. So Lilith made sure to smile and nod at her p rotégé before continuing with whatever she was doing.

It didn’t help. And in some cases, it appeared to make things worse.

Lilith would also note that Amity was incredibly distracted by the human, particularly when she was focusing on magic or doing something outrageous.

Amity would stare at Luz for quite a while if gone uninterrupted. To the point where she would fumble or crash into things if she was busy doing something beforehand. Quite a few items had been broken that way, and even Eda was getting a little annoyed.

Once, on a hot day, Amity had tied up all of her hair and in turn showed off her undercut. Luz had noticed and complimented the young witch on it. Mentioning how she had wanted to get one, too.

Lilith almost thought Amity had accidentally eaten a bloodshroom by how fast the Red™ had come to her cheeks.

During one of their training sessions, Amity had been practicing her natural fire magic. She had both of her hands in front of her with a small magenta flame. Luz had been sitting on the floor and awed at the sight.

When Amity turned to face her, Luz had sat up on her knees, face illuminated by the glow, and acted like she had seen the most incredible magic in the Boiling Isles. Which was saying something, for someone who had faced Emperor Belos.

Amity’s fire had ignited into a very sudden flame, sprouting upwards and nearly nicking her in the nose, causing a mild panic among the house when she set the carpet ablaze. Which Eda later made her pay for.

Any form of physical contact seemed to bring a flush to Amity’s face. She’d avert her eyes, stutter, sweat. The works.

Usually not all at once, but it was still noticeable. Especially for such a well-coordinated person as Amity.

After weeks of silently observing, Lilith decided it could go on no longer. Amity appeared to be in distress, and Lilith was not about to leave her student high and dry when she could do something about it.

So, she came up with theories.

Her first theory was that Luz was warmer than a regular witch, and that’s why Amity looked so red. There wasn’t much information on human biology, so it’s not like it was out of the realm of possibility.

But that theory was shot down almost immediately. Lilith had been around Luz before, and she was no warmer than any other witch. Maybe Amity was extra sensitive? Allergic to humans, maybe?

Her second theory was that Amity simply didn’t know how to react to Luz. Sure, the two were friends, but Lilith had heard about Amity’s horror-story ‘friends.’ Perhaps she just didn’t know how to deal with having a real friend like Luz.

That theory was torn when she’d watched Amity’s interactions with her other two friends, Willow and Gus. She didn’t act nearly the same way with either of them as she did Luz. And while they definitely weren’t as eccentric as Luz, she figured Amity would’ve shown some similar signs.

Her third theory worried her greatly.

A curse.

Granted, not one nearly as severe as the one she’d given Eda, but a curse nonetheless. Perhaps one of her old friends had cursed her to be distracted or embarrass herself in front of Luz. It wasn’t out of the realm of possibility.

Though she felt like Amity would’ve talked to her if she was concerned about such a thing. She decided to put a pin in that idea.

Her fourth theory was one that confused her, and yet almost seemed to make sense.

Amity was angry at Luz.

The idea seemed preposterous. Amity didn’t hate Luz. She didn’t even dislike Luz. They were best friends, were they not?

Yet, all the signs pointed to the opposite. Amity was known to go as red as a tomato when angry, it made sense. Amity was always going red when Luz was around, and would look anywhere but at her when it was bad enough.

The constant watching, the aversiveness to sudden touch, the stuttering, the ranting she’d hear Amity go off on now and again, the seeming unease.

Amity was furious at Luz. Or at the very least, uncomfortable with her being around.

It made no sense and so much at the same time.

She wondered if maybe the anger was caused by a curse, but that couldn’t be it. Amity would notice then. She must not have forgiven Luz for the humiliation at the covention and the library. That had to be it.

Right?

With this theory in mind, Lilith attempted to keep Amity as far from Luz as possible. Taking her to the marketplace, training in different areas around Bonesborough, instructing Hooty to be a little more aggressive in guarding, things like that.

Amity transitioned from politely confused, to annoyed, to...well, drained.

Luz made a similar transition. She would always wonder aloud where Amity was, to asking Lilith to train back at the Owl House, to the occasional moping on the couch when Lilith left for training.

It seemed keeping them apart had only made things worse. And Lilith hated seeing either of the girls down.

She suddenly went right back to training at the Owl House again, and the cycle resumed. Maybe even stronger this time.

Lilith was confused, worried, and perhaps a little desperate. What, in the name of the Titan himself, could be the problem?

She decided she needed help, as much as she hated to admit it. And she knew just who to ask.

“Edalyn?” Lilith said, looking up the stairs to where her sister was retreating to her room for the night. “May I speak with you?”

“Uh, sure?” Eda blinked, stepping back as Lilith made her way up the steps and stood across from her in the hallway. “What is it?”

“I’m...worried,” Lilith admitted. “About Amity.”

“Is it her parents?” Eda asked quietly, face softening.

“No, no, thank goodness it’s not.” Lilith shook her head. “I meant...about her and Luz.”

Eda stared at her owlishly for a moment. Lilith had to stop herself from curling her lip at her own accidental pun.

“About time you noticed!” Eda snorted before quickly quieting herself down. She really didn’t want to wake anyone in the house.

“You knew?” Lilith gaped.

“Course I did. That kid of yours isn’t exactly subtle.” Eda chuckled. “It’s nothing to be worried about. Luz is a bit oblivious, but I’m sure she’ll catch on eventually. She’s still worried about herself.”

“Nothing to worry about?” Lilith shook her head in disbelief. “How can it be nothing to worry about? It’s interfering with Amity’s training!”

“So? I think the kids got something good going, if you ask me.” Eda shrugged. “Why are you so worked up about this?”

“Because I care about the well-being of my apprentice!” Lilith hissed quietly. “How can you let the two of them continue to be around each other when it’s so obviously causing Amity distress?”

Eda frowned and opened her mouth to retort before pausing. She appeared thoughtful before looking Lilith up and down.

“Just to make sure we’re on the same page; what do you think is going on?”

“What?” Lilith flicked her pointed ears down. “Amity is annoyed by Luz, isn’t she?” She said, tilting her head. “I mean, I didn’t think it could be true, but with all the evidence--”

Eda let out a loud, vaugly distressing, wheeze.

The Owl Lady covered her mouth with her hand and tried to smother her laughs, wheezing all the way so as to not disturb any of the other residents who were fast-asleep.

“What’s so funny?” Lilith demanded, taken aback.

“You think Amity doesn’t like Luz?” Eda whisper-laughed. “Are you dense?”

“Wha--no! I’m concerned!” Lilith snapped, remembering at the last second to keep her voice down. “What are you on about?”

“Lily, you poor, poor moron,” Eda heavily dropped a hand on her shoulder and looked up, still hunched over from her laughing fit.

“That Blight girl has a crush on Luz.”

Lilith blinked, once, twice. She stared at Eda as the gears in her head slowly began to turn and shift.

“...wait, really?”

Eda had to smother another laugh, visibly shaking with the effort.

“I’m serious!” Lilith whispered. “A crush? Is that what this is?”

“Obviously! Kids head-over-staff!” Eda stood up, leaning against the wall as she raised a hand near her chest to smother any further laughs should they come up.

“Honestly, Lily. I knew you weren’t the smartest tool in the shed, but this is ridiculous.” Eda teased. “I thought after years of watching me fall for those kids in Hexside you would’ve been able to recognize this.”

“You were different!” Lilith huffed, crossing her arms and turning her body away slightly.

“You would go out of your way to show-off. You’d do all you could to be near them while laughing at any stupid jokes they made and had the most absurd face when you’d see them across the--”

Lilith paused, thinking over what she said as the smile on Eda’s face grew.

“Wait... wait,”

Eda covered her mouth again and wheezed, turning her head away to avoid laughing harder at the shocked face Lilith was sporting right now.

"See-see my...my point?” Eda wheezed out.

“Great Titan, you’re right. As much as I hate to admit it.” Lilith muttered. “And I tried to get them apart.”

“Yeah, not your smartest move.” Eda giggled. “Still think it’s going to interfere?”

“Of course it is. But I’m not going to stop it.” Lilith said simply. “What do you take me for?”

“A woman who curses her own little sister while she’s asleep?”

Lilith gave Eda a deadpan stare. Eda returned it with a smug one of her own.

“Fair, but still.” Lilith relented. “I’m honestly surprised Amity could get so flustered over, no offence, a human.”

“I was surprised, too.” Eda agreed. “But, honestly? I think it works.”

“What makes you say that?” Lilith wondered.

Eda waved her hand and drew Lilith further down the hallway. She stopped outside of Luz’s room and gestured for her sister to be quiet.

Slowly, Eda cracked open the door and peered inside before stepping back to let Lilith see for herself.

Luz and Amity were leaning upright against the back wall, both of them asleep. A discarded The Good Witch Azura book laying in Amity’s lap.

Luz’s head was resting in the crook of Amity’s neck, mouth half-open.

Amity was laying her head across Luz’s, looking far more peaceful.

They each had a hand resting beside them. Amity’s fingers were brushing Luz’s, having looked like she was going to hold her hand before either chickening out or falling asleep.

“See what I mean?” Eda whispered gleefully as Lilith stepped back and quietly shut the door.

“Alright, yeah, you have a point.” Lilith admitted. “I have a lot to make up for,” She mumbled.

“Eh, you can start now.” Eda shrugged. “Wouldn’t be the first time you messed up.”

Lilith made sure her sister saw the irritated face she gave her.

“Now go to sleep already before we accidentally wake up Hooty. He’ll never shut up if we--”

“Did someone say Hooty?”

“There he is,”

Lilith sat on the couch in the living room, reading a book on glyph-magic. It was early morning, and the rest of the household had yet to rise after the rude awakening from Hooty last night.

Lilith knew that whenever Amity stayed overnight at the Owl House, she would either go home early or very late in the day, depending on if she had informed her parents beforehand.

This time, she had forgotten to tell them.

Lilith wasn’t surprised when she heard the soft footsteps of Amity hurriedly walking down the stairs.

Lilith lowered her book for a moment and turned towards the doorway as Amity stepped through, gazing around nervously. She froze when she saw Lilith, like a child caught stealing from the cookie jar.

“So,” Lilith stared awkwardly, sharply closing her book. “Luz, huh?”

Neither of them moved, or spoke, for a good few moments.

“Seriously?” Amity groaned, giving Lilith an exhausted stare. “I didn’t even do anything yet!”

“This happens that often?”

[reidrco]

wannabe

𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: tommy shelby x reader

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: none except a few swear words.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿‘𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: this was requested some weeks ago and i had so much fun writing it, but i still don’t really like it lmao!! BUT i hope y’all like and enjoy reading it! i kinda tried to make it similar to the family meeting in the last episode of season five, but it’s still different :) sorry for any mistakes i made!

You pushed the door to the Garrison open and stepped inside the warm building, taking off your soaking wet coat immediately. It was raining like crazy outside, the cold wind leaving goosebumps all over your body. Your plan for today had been to stay at home the entire day, read a novel and drink tea, but Tommy had called for an important family meeting in the famous pub.

You knew he wouldn‘t have been mad if you hadn‘t showed up, but the relationship with his family wasn‘t the best at the moment which was why you wanted to be by his side and support him.

“I‘m never going outside again. This weather is disgusting,” you complained and walked towards your husband who stood by the fireplace, his back facing you. He turned around straightaway, relieved to see you had decided to join the family meeting. Even though he didn‘t want to show it, you could see his tensed muscles relaxing as he saw your beautiful face.

Nobody else had arrived yet, giving the two of you some alone time for a few minutes. Tommy pressed a gentle kiss on your forehead before he wrapped his arms around you, pulling your body closer to his.

“You didn‘t have to come,” he reminded you and closed his eyes for a brief moment.

“But I wanted to,” you answered with a loving smile and placed your hands on his strong shoulders, looking into his blue eyes. Tommy leaned his forehead against yours, the two of you stayed silent for a few minutes, enjoying each other‘s presence in silence.

You hadn‘t spent a lot of times with Tommy the past weeks, you had been busy traying horses every day while he had stayed in his office until sunrise. Business was stressful these days and claimed all your free time which was why you treasured little moments like this the most.

“I love you,” you whispered, a huge smile, one you rarely got to see, appearing on your husband‘s face as these three words left your mouth. Even after all the years the two of you had been together, hearing you say these three magical words made his heart skip a beat.

“I‘m glad you‘re here,” Tommy confessed and left a quick kiss on your soft lips before the door opened and the rest of the Shelby family entered the pub. Sighingly you pulled away from Tommy, already missing his warm embrace, and waved at Polly who greeted you with her beautiful smile. 

“Hello, lovebirds,” she grinned at the two of you and took a seat at the table, lightning a cigarette between her red lips. Tommy ignored her teasing nickname and drew his attention back to you, reaching out to interwine his fingers with yours.

You squeezed his hand slightly as you suddenly noticed the blonde American goddess, Gina, stepping inside the pub with her husband. You couldn‘t help but roll your eyes, already annoyed by her unnecessary presence.

Gina and you haven‘t had the best start. Michael had introtuced you to her at the latest family dinner, but you had been a tiny bit tipsy already and unable to control the words leaving your mouth. You had apologised for calling her Michael‘s exclusive whore a hundred times, but Gina was stubborn like crazy. She had let you feel her anger every time your paths crossed and you were sure she would do so today again.

You watched the rest of the family sitting down at the table as well, greeting everyone with a kind smile. Well except Gina and Michael, but they didn‘t seem to care anyway.

“Ignore them,” Tommy whispered in your ear, bringing you back to reality with a kiss on your cheek. You simply notted and sat down on the chair next to Polly, focusing on your husband.

“First of all, thank you for coming,” Tommy said truthfully and forced himself to put a weak smile on his lips which caused Polly to raise an eyebrow and chuckle clearly amused by his action. You nudged her softly with your elbow, but couldn‘t hide your grin either.

Your husband cleared his throat, fishing for his cigarettes in his pocket impatiently while looking through the little growd of people at the table in front of him.

“Also, Congratulation to Michael and Gina,” he continued speaking, “They‘re expecting their first child.”

Everyone started clapping and cheering, yelling their congratulations at the married couple excitedly. Tommy had told you about Gina‘s pregnancy already which was why you weren‘t really surprised, a part of you feeling bad for the unborn child who would be raised by these two egoists.

“Well, thank you very much, Thomas,” the American woman put her most beautiful fake smile on, placing her hand on top of Michael‘s on the wooden table, “It‘s not like you‘ll ever get to see my baby anyway, but we really appreciate your… uncommon kindness.”

You couldn‘t help but roll your eyes at her provocating answer, but your husband didn‘t seem to be bothered by it, but Polly definitely was.

“What do you mean?” she asked confused, her eyes fixed on her son who exhaled the air in his lungs sharply, feeling very uncomfortable.

“Michael and I are taking the baby to America,” Gina explained before her husband had the chance to say a single word, “And the family business too.“

Everyone in the room stared at the young woman speechlessly, unable to believe anything she had just said. You nearly choked on your own saliva as you realised what Gina was trying to say in that moment. 

This had to be a bad joke. A very bad one.

You didn‘t dare to look at Tommy, because you knew he wouldn‘t say anything right away even though his anger was probably exploding inside him. Gina looked at all the confused faces around the table, still wearing the lovely fake smile on her red lips.

“Oh, you didn‘t tell them yet, honey?” she acted surprised, looking back at her husband and pretending to be disappointed. Michael‘s eyes met her‘s, silently begging her to stop. He was clearly uncomfortable.

“I mean... you can tell them now, right? Since everyone is here today,” she suggested and leaned back in her chair, waiting for her husband to say something. You drew your attention to Tommy who hadn‘t said a word and still managed to stay calm, his blue eyes fixed on Michael.

Polly‘s once innocent son cleared his throat and got up from his chair, taking a deep breathe.

“Tommy,” he started nervously, “I came up with a plan to expand the family business in America. It‘s clear that this company needs to be restructured and I‘d like to take it in my own hands. With the help of my wife and her family obviously.”

You couldn‘t hold back a sarcastic laugh and rolled your eyes clearly annoyed by Michael‘s proposal, gaining everyone‘s attention in seconds, but they all stayed silent.

“I didn‘t know you and your lovely wife were in a position to suggest business plans after losing thousands of dollars in the States, but of course, Michael, go on. We have a lot of trust in you after all, don‘t we?” unlike your husband, you couldn‘t stay very calm when someone got on your nerves. Especially not when that someone was Michael. Or Gina.

Polly‘s son looked at you slightly taken aback, not knowing what to say for a brief second before he collected himself and continued talking.

“I already talked to men from Detroit and New York who would be interested in the Opium we‘re going to ship to America from now on and they would love to make a deal with me. This could be our main source of money every month,” he said with a lot of confidence he had surprisingly gained in the past seconds.

“Nearly twenty million dollar. Every month,” his wife added proudly, “More money your dirty hands have ever touched and all you have to do is sit back and let us do the work.“

Impatiently you looked at your husband who didn‘t seem very impressed, waiting for him to finally say something and stop their talking about their absurd wish. But he stayed silent, his eyes traveling around the room. It was clear that he wasn‘t very interested in this topic.

“Since Michael has finished his wonderful speech now, I‘d like to explain our next steps regarding-...,” Tommy finally spoke but didn‘t get to finish his sentence because of Michael who interrupted him unpolitely.

“This is your opportunity to take a break, buy a house by the sea and horses you can train,” he tried his very best to convince Thomas and everyone else in the room from his terrible plan.

“Everyone with a working brain wouldn‘t say no to such an offer, but it‘s hard to think logically when you come from a family with no education, isn‘t it?” Gina smiled at your husband innocently, knowning exactly how provocating her words were, but you wouldn‘t listen to her voice another second.

You rose from your seat and walked over to where Michael‘s wife was sitting, crossing your arms in front of your chest as you looked down into her eyes, but Tommy started talking again before you could say anything.

“You had your chance, Michael, and you fucked up. Nobody asked for your opinion, nobody wanted to hear anything about your plan, because nobody cares about the shit that comes out of your mouth. I‘m the fucking boss and if you think you‘re the fucking king of the castle here, please, do all of us a favour and fuck off to America,” his voice was calm, but you could see the anger burning in his eyes.

“Same goes for you, Blondie, and if you haven‘t left this fucking pub in the next two minutes I will drag you outside by your cheap pearl earings,” your attention was back on Gina now. “Oh and maybe someone in America will teach you in which situations you better keep your mouth shut.”

In this moment you wished you could kill her with your bare hands or at least slap her in the face, but you didn‘t, turning around and walking towards your husband instead. Not a single family member dared to say anything while waiting for the disliked couple to leave.

Tommy wrapped his arm around your shoulders and pulled you closer to him, pressing a loving kiss on your forehead. He didn’t know why but he loved it when you put other people in their place, making him feel proud. A part of him thought it was extremely sexy and he wished he could take you right there on the table, but for now he had to stop getting distracted by his unholy thoughts.

His cousin and Gina still didn‘t move and hoped for support from Polly or maybe even Finn, but they only gained disappointed and annoyed glances. They slowly started to realise that nobody wanted to have them at this meeting.

Tommy cleared his throat and looked down on the expensive watch which he had taken out of his pocket, raising an eyebrow. One minute had almost past.

“Go, Michael. We‘ll talk later,” you could hear the anger Polly felt in her voice as she spoke, wanting this embarassing situation to end. And even after all Michael wouldn‘t disobey his mother, nodding slightly and taking his wife‘s hand in his. He ignored her protests completely as he dragged her in the direction of the door. Somehow he would change his family‘s minds, but obviously not today.

“For fuck‘s sake, Gina, was that really necessary?” he hissed angrily before slamming the door shut after they had stepped outside. A relieved sigh left your mouth when they had finally left.

“Would anyone else like to tell me what to do or may I talk now?” your husband asked clearly annoyed, but nobody was brave enough to answer him. Tommy continued talking after a short moment of silence, explaining his family the reason for this meeting.

You were glad Michael and Gina were gone now, not missing their presence at all, but you knew Michael‘s plan wasn‘t off the table for him yet and he would continue being a pain in the ass along with the blonde goddess by his side.

𝘁𝗮𝗴 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁: @captivatedbycillianmurphy @sweetgoodangel

[fiction-in-my-blood]

Unexpected, To Say The Least (ObeyMe Fic)

Okaaayyyy so... this turned out differently than I wanted it to, but these types of things happen when you leave a wip in your drafts for months (╬▔皿▔)╯ but it’s still good. This is a part 1, so stay tuned.... depending on how long it takes me haha.. ha. 

~~~~~~

Scribbling in a notebook, a red night light from the window right next her defining the flyaway strands of hair on the top of her head, Aviyah was blissfully unaware of the stares from her classmates. Resting her chin on her closed fist, one leg crossed over the other, black boots bobbing up and down to the tune she had stuck in her head. She was so calm, so much calmer than she had been in weeks.

Aviyah, a human in a world of demons and angels, had arrived in Devildom two months ago. At first, she was unnerved by the close attention she gained from all the demons, angels and the other human she met. Lord Diavolo, who had also taken a liking to her, ensured that it was just because she was a different species to them. She was weak, a helpless being compared to the Avatars of sin she was living with and angels of heaven she had some classes with. Demons fed off souls, and it was an angel’s job to protect those bright balls of light in each human, so it was only right that they kept a close eye on her. Especially when the future king himself had ordered the seven strongest brothers in all of Devildom to keep her safe for the duration of the exchange programme.

But it wasn’t that. Aviyah was sure of it. She had gained unworldly attention for her entire life. Boys seemed to bow at her feet, begging her to let them serve her each and every whim. Girls clung to her, wanting to be friends with such a kind-hearted, beautiful, smart person- and also wanting to meet her every demand. Aviyah, having been raised by good-willed parents, didn’t take advantage of this strange power she seemed to hold over everyone she met, although she did accept the odd gift from colleagues and classmates on that one special day a year, mainly because she didn’t want to be rude. She hardly asked for anything in public because it would cause quite a stir, everyone in the room darting around to take care of the task she had so graciously offered them. All she wanted was an item from the top shelf, but now she had twenty boxes of cereal that she really didn’t need. 

She expected, being in a world of magic, spells, and potions that could kill or force someone to love you, that she would be safe from all the unneeded, and frankly unwanted, attention. Yet, lo and behold, the first day she arrived here, in a much colder climate than she was used to, both the Avatar of Greed and the Avatar of Envy threw their coats at her, only for her to get consumed by the jacket of the largest man she had ever seen, the Avatar of Gluttony. And she hadn’t even made a pact with them yet!

“I’m telling you, there’s something up with her.” A muttering came from the other side of the otherwise bustling classroom. It was just before their lesson would start, everyone was getting themselves ready to learn about different species of man, except for one group of, shockingly, demons and angels.

“Mammon, won’t you admit your true feelings?” The dark-toned angel smiled softly at the second-born brother. Truly, he felt an unfamiliar feeling in the pit of his stomach too, something he couldn’t even begin to describe, but would never admit it himself. He was sure it was something sinful, something against his very being, and would only confess when the time came. 

“What feelings! I-I ain’t got no feelings.” A horrendously red blush appeared immediately on Mammon’s entire face, noticed by all those involved in this small huddle over a desk.

“You don’t even deserve her. You already get to spend so much time with her! It’s so unfair!” The purple-haired otaku tried to bite his lip, he really did, but the jealousy for his brother grew too high, bubbling over into the trait he most represented. Envy.

“That was only because Lucifer made me! I didn’t even wanna babysit that human!” Mammon barked back, not meaning the words but needing a distracted from the embarrassment he could still feel colouring his cheeks. The two butted heads often, but this time it was literal, immediately starting to throw punches to defend the one they held so dear. Several people tried to get between them, the male human even getting his own strike to the jaw, and all hell brought loose in- well- hell.

“Guys! Stop!” A higher-toned, feminine cry, although thick with command and low with anger, echoed over the room, every single one of the occupants freezing in an instance, even those that weren’t involved in this little scuffle- or under the young girl’s pact.

Crouching beside her male counterpart, who had been thrown to the ground by the force of being hit, was Aviyah, the one they had been fighting over. With one hand on Solomon’s back and the other holding his hand to keep him upright, she glared at the two that had been previously brawling in what was meant to be a safe place. 

Aviyah rarely used her unknown power to command people. Or was it the pact? She couldn’t tell any more, but at least it worked. 

“Are you alright, Solomon?” Disappointment turning to anxiousness etched in her expression, Aviyah let go of the sorcerer’s hand and back- once she could tell he could hold himself up-, only to move her’s close to his face, cocking her head to get a better look at the cut bleeding through his white-haired fringe. Being in such close proximity to the woman, and earning so much of her undivided attention, brought many hateful gazes to the man, but he didn’t care. He was thriving off it, in fact. 

“What? Are you worried about me?” No better was the time to tease her, to see that eye roll she did so well and hear that exasperated sigh as she dropped her hands, all previous nurturing gone from her posture as she stood up. 

“You just got punched in the face by a demon and still have the wherewithal to joke?” She muttered, wondering to herself if he was the one with supernatural abilities. Well, he did, he could use magic, but she wondered if he had his own special ability since birth. Could that have been the reason they were the two, out of the entire human race, to be chosen for this life-altering program?

Once she got to her feet, she turned to see Mammon and Leviathan, both with their heads lowered in shame. They had angered their... Goddess? Master? Friend? They didn’t know what to call her, having been the first two to make pacts with her, but there was this force, this unspoken voice that drew them to her and made them bow at her feet. Or want to, anyway.

Before Aviyah could even start to berate them for losing control like that, they had even transformed into the demon-forms, a stern voice cut through the entire scene. Students pinned themselves to the wall, trying to get as far from the fighting as possible, so they seemed to surround them like hawks, eagerly watching, waiting for the two to be punished by such a soft-spoken, angelic figure. 

Now in the doorway, however, was a man. With black hair as dark as the most inner depths of Devildom, red eyes as angry as the fire that sprouted from them, and an expression that has killed in the past, the man glared at the two, not even wanting to look in the direction of the girl in case she too saw his wrath.

“You two. With me. Now.” The words were curt and entirely ineloquent, nothing like that eldest would usually speak, showing how deeply enraged he was. The two quickly scurried after him, for once keeping their mouths shut.

~~~~~~

Biting her lip, Aviyah couldn’t take her eyes off that door, now empty after Lucifer had guided his younger brothers away. 

“It was me, wasn’t it?” She spoke loud enough for the people closest to her to hear, but a whisper full of regret did not go unnoticed. 

“What do you mean, Avi?” Simeon stepped up to try and ease the look of worry that they all saw on her face, but she stepped away, afraid for anyone to even touch her. What if he, Simeon, the nicest, most modest person she had ever met, went into a jealous rage too?

“They were fighting over me, weren’t they?”  Aviyah’s voice cracked as she clutched her fists at her sides, avoiding looking at anyone directly, scared it’ll put them under the curse she seemed to have. She didn’t want this. She didn’t want to pull families apart. She just wanted to have no one know who she was. 

“Avi,” Simeon uttered again, but it was too late. Aviyah had already made up her mind, collecting all her resolve in one solid sniff and running out of the room, hoping she could catch the brothers before something too bad happened. 

~~~~~~

“What do you think you’re doing, having a fight like that in the middle of class? Do you think it will make you seem strong? Seem manly? Because it won’t! It only makes you seem needy.” Lucifer’s booming voice shook the paintings on the walls, giving Aviyah some clue as to where he had taken the two. She followed the shouts of pain and anger, running as more and more tears grew in her eyes. She didn’t want to do what she was about to do, but she needed to. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt. To get jealous. Not when it was all the people she actually cared about.

Finally, in an empty classroom where the shouts seemed the loudest, Aviyah found the door still open ajar, standing just out of sight so she could listen in, waiting for the right moment before anything too serious happened. If that hadn’t happened already, that is. 

“You made a fool out of me! The student council! Not only that, but you made Aviyah look so defeated! I won’t let you argue like this anymore!” Lucifer raged on with a temper that rivalled Satan’s. “I may just have to claim her myself.” 

The comment, although almost a whisper, shot everyone in hearing distance into full-blown madness, both Levi and Mammon charging at him, demanding how he thought he had the right to even suggest the idea. Before they could make contact with each other, Aviyah cried out, desperately begging them to just wait.

All attention on her now, as usual, the men’s eyes went wide. She was crying, tears streaming down her cheeks at the sight of the brothers, who were always so comfortable with each other, usually so familiar, fighting like this? Over her? It broke her like it broke their relationship. 

“I can’t do this anymore. I want to go home! I’m not happy and I never was! Please! Let me go home!” She lied, straight through her teeth. She had never been happier than living here, in Devildom, with all their brothers. She enjoyed her time listening to them bicker playfully, not like they were now. She enjoyed watching Levi play his games. She enjoyed eating with Beelzebub. She enjoyed reading books with Satan. Being dressed up by Asmo. Listening to Mammon’s wild get-rich-quick-schemes. Napping with Belphie. Even with Simeon and Solomon, who she didn’t get to see as often as the others. Luke was fun to cook with- even though he seemed a little apprehensive of her. She enjoyed all her time here but right now, in times like these, when it felt like everything was her fault.

“Avi, what’re you saying?” Mammon’s voice broke, between all the yelling and the way his heart broke at her tone and words, and his brows knitted together tightly. Levi froze up, not knowing what to say in response to her sudden outcry, and Lucifer felt like he could steal her away right here and now. Never before had he felt so out of control.

“I’m sorry, It’s all my fault. I need to leave, go home. I need to get out of your lives because- because I’ll ruin them.” She hiccupped, choking on the tears that clogged her throat, and she tried to hide how sad she was by holding her face in her hands. Her knees shook, her body- just as frail as they had always suspected. It took so much energy for her to say these words and not completely breakdown.

“N-No, it’s not your fault. W-We shouldn’t have be-been fighting.” Levi made a move to step closer, to wrap his arm around her, to help her feel better, but both Mammon and Lucifer shot him a glare so deadly it made the room cold. 

“This is exactly what I’m talking about.” Aviyah continued to stutter through her words, her tears interrupting her usually melodic, smooth voice, as she felt the indignation in their eyes. 

“This always happens. It was a mistake to choose me. I... I’m going to go to Diavolo now and tell him this was wrong.” She tried to steel herself, to seem strong enough to walk through these halls alone and leave Devildom for good, but it was no use. They could all see how distraught she was.

“Always happens?” Lucifer muttered, confusion written all over his features. 

“There’s something inside me, there always has been. It makes people so hateful for one another and I can’t do that to you all. You’re a family, I won’t tear it apart. I-I need to...” Aviyah led off, not knowing what else to say. Memories of her past, all the friendships she had unknowingly, unwittingly, torn apart because of what? Because she was desirable? Because she was pretty and smart and kind? No amount of adoration was worth this. None of it.

The room was silent, deathly so, no one knew what to say. Have Levi and Mammon just ruined their chances to know such a wonderful person? And not just a person, but a human. Someone they were never meant to befriend. Someone that should fear them and hate them for who they were, for what they represented. But no, she showed them care and love and compassion, what they believed only a human could give. 

So, with no one left to tell her no, to not go and stay with them because they needed her so badly it hurt, she started to turn back to the door.

“Wait, Aviyah. Just... Just wait.” Shockingly at a lost for words, Lucifer turned to his desk, where his D.D.D laid, and picked it up. Aviyah started to refuse him, to say this was the right thing to do, this was the only way they could live calm, happy lives, but he continued to use the communication device, calling together a meeting that would change everything.

~~~~~~

“Tell them what you told me,” Lucifer instructed in Lord Diavolo’s conference room, having called a meeting of the student council together. Everyone looked at him with suspicious gazes, having no real information on why they were here, Levi and Mammon stressing out like they were about to take the most important, most difficult tests in their lives.

“Lucifer, this isn’t going to cha-.”

“Just say it.” The words were demanding, but the tone was soft, very shocking for Lucifer- until it was for Aviyah. He always seemed to have a soft spot for her. Like Mammon. Although for different reasons. 

Aviyah lowered her head, eyes still damp from her earlier confession, thinking about what she was about to say. After a brief but deep sigh, she lifted her gaze again, but only as far as the edge of the table she sat at.

“Since before I can remember, everyone I’ve met has... wanted me.” She bit her lip, not knowing how else to say it. It always felt like someone was trying to win her over, to win her as a price to show everyone else that they were the one she chose.

“No matter who it is, they say they love me or they’d do anything for me. And no matter how much I tell them to stop, they just get more outrageous. They give me elaborate gifts or take me places I wouldn’t normally go. They shower me in a love that I never asked for until they can’t anymore.” Aviyah’s voice cracked again, tears rolling down her cheeks again as she remembered the people that bankrupted themselves to win her over and the others that have lost their health, their friends, the ones who loved them, all to impress her in one way or another. 

“No matter how many times I say I don’t need it, they’ll keep doing it. It’s not until I say I don’t want them or the things they give me that they stop. I thought it’d be different when I came here, but when you guys started fighting...” Aviyah finally worked up the courage to look up, gesturing in the direction of Levi and Mammon, who blushed when she made eye contact with the both of them. 

“This is why we’re here? Because those two were acting childishly again?” Satan sighed to himself, upset that his reading time had been cut short. He wouldn’t even address the panicked feeling that arose in him when he heard the solemness of Aviyah’s tone.

“You’re almost as seductive as me, Avi! Aren’t you lucky to have so much in common with me? Someday you too might be able to bring down a country with your looks.” Asmo leaned into her, ignoring how saddened she seemed by the statment. The next move she made shocked everyone.

“I don’t want to do that! I want it to stop! I hate it and I hate myself for it!” She yelled after pushing Asmodeus so strongly off her he fell right out of his seat. Every time she brushed him off she had never actually been physical. Who was she, a human, to push off a demon? Better yet, how did she have the strength?

“Hey, did you see that?” A whispering demon mentioned to his brother, noticing the flicker of light that sparked in her eyes in her yelling. Even though her words broke their hearts, it was hard not to bring it up.

The outcry caused the prince, stern-faced compared to his usual jovial smirk, to peer at her closer. “I see. Lucifer, do you think she’s..?”

“Yes, I do. It would explain everyone’s... erratic behaviours around her.” Lucifer, not wanting the entire picture drawn out for her and his brothers, interrupted the prince. The information would be hard to hear, for Aviyah most of all, and an off-handed comment was not how he wanted to break the news to her.

“But where are her features? She’s an open-book, we would have seen something by now.” Satan, catching on, eyed her as suspiciously as he had Lucifer in the past, watching the tears roll down her cheeks as she tries to calm herself down. She never yelled like that and felt awful for what she did, but was too scared to even speak to anyone else, let alone touch or apologise to Asmo for her supposed violence. 

“Would someone tell us what’s going on? I-I mean, Levi might be confused, is all.” Not wanting to seem idiotic for asking, Mammon jumped up before shying away again, not being able to cope with the girl’s silent crying.

“Avi, it’s okay. You didn’t hurt me.” Asmo, along with Beel, tried to be some sort of caring figure in the room of inquisitive stares. 

When Beel tried to put a hand on her shoulder, she jumped away. “P-Please! Do-Don’t. I... I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“It’s possible she hasn’t been... awoken yet.” Diavolo couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea. It would be just like the innocent human, if that’s what she truly was, to not have the necessary experiences she needed in life to prove their theory correct. Lucifer couldn’t help but blush.

“Awoken?” Aviyah’s voice, now somewhat tamed but hoarse from her crying, looked up at the prince. Had he an idea? Could he cure her? Could he take away this curse, gift, whatever it was? Could he end all this?

“Well, depending on your immediate ancestry, it’s possible your power needs to be... unlocked, in a way. It’s clear you’re no mere human. You even seduced dear Barbatos, and he never even blushes at my comments.” Diavolo laughed again, gesturing with his gaze to the corner of the room where his butler was clearly fitting the urge to comfort the girl. She quickly looked right back at the prince the moment she noticed this. 

“If I’m not human, then what am I?” 

“Well, my best guess would be a succubus, but seeing as you have more human features, you could be a cambion, a hybrid. We’d have to ask your mother.” Diavolo, as usual, was much too nonchalant with the subject of Aviyah’s supposed species, a topic that would and will change her life forever.

Silence filled the air for one.

Two.

Three.

“WHAT?” Four. They made it to four seconds of silence before Mammon stood up again, shrieking, along with the female in question. Succubi and the topic of hybrids had yet to be discussed in her classes, ironically that was today’s class, but she had a clue what they were from just hearsay.

“You think I’m a demon? But I grew up in the human world! I have human par- well the people that raised me were human... But I never felt the urge to have anything in excess or trick anyone into stealing their money- sorry Mammon- but how could I be a demon?” The tears were gone, replaced with a look of pure confusion that turned to utter disbelief with a hint of ‘what if’. What if he was right?

“The people that raised you? Don’t tell me you were...”

“Adopted. I have two dads who found me on their doorstep. I have no clue who my biological parents are.” The uneasy feeling that meant Diavolo could be right started to rise as Aviyah admitted a part of her past she had never told anyone. It seemed like everything was out in the air now.

“Perfect.”

“This is a problem. Succubi and Incubi have a duty to bring all demons back to Devildom in case they go rogue in the human world. This parent of yours will have some answering to do.” Lucifer, recovered from his bashfulness in an effort to act like the vice-president he was, got furious about someone disrespecting the laws Diavolo had put in place to protect the humans he seemed to so dearly care for. “Dumping you on some couples doorstep will require some serious consequences.”

The whole room shuddered at the idea of what punishments Lucifer was thinking up at this moment, but luckily someone thought to turn the conversation away from that.

“You say she needs to be awoken? I know one way of doing that, but I don’t know… prepared for that she will be.” Satan smirked a side-eyed look Aviyah’s way as she tried to process all this information. She was a demon, or half of one anyway. To think, all those crazy white mom’s at her elementary school were right. 

“I’d be more than happy to volunteer in any way I can.” Asmo started to cosy up to Aviyah once again, making it very clear what the one way of awakening a demon seemed to be.

“No! No, that’s fine, Asmo! B-Besides, I’m not a virgin, so we’ll have to find some other way to awaken this power if you think that’s what I have.” Beetred and edging off her chair to make some distance between the flirt and herself, she almost didn’t hear the snickering from some of the other demons in the room. 

“Oh, deary me.” Asmo tittered to himself, Satan covering his mouth to try and suppress the chuckle that threatened to leave his lips. He didn’t want to make the girl more embarrassed. Mammon joined in, although much louder, just to not feel left out, and Levi blushed furiously, but he knew exactly what everyone else seemed so excited about. As usual, Beel was too distracted by the food laid out by Barbatos to care what was going on now that Aviyah was no longer crying. 

“Aviyah, I’m afraid to say it’s not the act of sex that awakens a demon… It’s the, uh.” Lucifer tried to inform her, he really did, but the stutter that threatened his usually composed manner halted him from doing so. 

“You didn’t cum, did you, Avi?” Diavolo’s brows frowned sincerely, but the wavering of his lips told her he too was trying not to laugh. Aviyah’s cheeks blossomed darker, the embarrassment from her first time flashing through her mind once again and her face screwed up in embarrassment. For her, this situation couldn’t possibly get any worse. 

“Your Highness, if you wouldn’t tease her so much, there is another way to awaken her demon form.” Barbatos, unexpectedly, intervened, shocking everyone in the room but Aviyah. He had always had a sweet spot for the huma- well, hybrid. 

“Yes, yes, Barbatos, you are right. My most sincere apologies, Avi. Lucifer, we’ll come to the House of Lamentation tonight. Prepare the Grimoire.” And with that, Diavolo stood to leave.

“And why not now? Wouldn’t it be best to do this sooner than later so she can learn to control it better?” Satan scowled, earning his own from Lucifer for being so upfront. The prince only chuckled.

“I need to do some… investigating first. You, Satan, of all people, should know what is needed for the ritual.” Satan’s brows frowned suspiciously at the prince as he made his final departure. 

“What does he mean, Satan?” Aviyah leaned into the demon’s side in order to get a clear answer for the first time today and Satan’s gaze finally left the door. 

“He needs your progenitor. He’s going to find your mother or father.”