#i made it seem like it was just about not knowing where our magic came from

[sweetmodel]

How I became a master shifter (+ why methods aren't working for you)

Hello! I’ve been seeing a lot of disinformation lately, and I’ve noticed that some people might need help, so I wanted to chime in. I can shift whenever I want, and I see a LOT of limiting beliefs—but I understand because I was once on the other side.

Disclaimer: This is all based on my personal experience with how I became a master shifter. You’ll want to read everything—it’s important.

I first shifted around March 2022. I would always use methods. I would affirm, tell myself I was detached from this reality, and so on. During my very first shift, I literally affirmed all night long (if this sounds familiar, it’s because I used to have another blog here, lol). You know, really complicated stuff. Then... things changed. I couldn’t shift anymore. I kept using the same methods, but they didn’t work!

That’s when I started questioning everything about shifting and consciousness. Why was it that I could be in another reality where things like magic exist, but then suddenly I couldn’t shift anymore? Why were the methods, like lucid dreaming or the void, seemingly more powerful than the act of switching realities itself? Why, when I shifted from my Desired Reality to my Current Reality, all I needed to do think of my CR to shift back—but it didn’t work the other way around?

None of it made sense! And I’m sure many others have asked themselves these same questions.

I came up with two theories:

This reality has something unique compared to the infinite other realities. To shift from here, you need something extra, like a method.

There’s something else at play, something unrelated to the realities themselves.

I dismissed the first option. There’s nothing inherently special about this reality. So why do we use methods here but not in our DRs?

Then, I thought back to how I used to shift... detaching from my body, affirming until I shifted. It all aligned with my subconscious beliefs. The method didn’t work because that’s how shifting works, but because it made sense to my subconscious. Of course I would shift if I did these things—because that’s what I believed shifting required.

Well... kind of. As I said, it made sense because it aligned with my beliefs. So when the method failed, I wasn’t letting myself shift.

Did you catch that? I didn’t let myself shift. Of course, it wasn’t the method. At what point do you actually shift? Is it when you affirm? Do you really think the universe is just waiting for you to say the right thing enough times before it switches you to your DR?

No. It’s you.

So, you have two choices:

Find a method that truly aligns with your beliefs, or

Change your subconscious beliefs.

Changing your beliefs might seem hard, but I’m going to explain why it’s not as difficult as it feels.

All your life, you’ve had certain beliefs, but those beliefs came from somewhere. You weren’t born thinking you need methods to shift—it’s something that developed over time. Which means it’s not set in stone. It can be changed.

I realized that every reality holds the same weight. There’s NOTHING you can do in this one—no intrusive thoughts or negative emotions—that can stop you. Why? Because those thoughts and emotions are products of this reality. Shifting is simply changing what you’re aware of. That’s literally it. Anything outside of that can’t stop you.

Yes, we’ve all seen those posts saying things like, "Oh, you’re not focused enough" or "You spend too much time on X, Y, Z" or even "You don’t go outside enough" (I legit read this on here—y'all are wildin’). Are you in your DR thinking "Oh, I thought about failing to shift, it means I won't :("? Of course you aren't! But nothing can stop you from shifting. Nothing can stop you from being aware that you are a master shifter.

So, how do you become aware of that?

I started affirming throughout the day. I would tell myself these things:

I’m pure consciousness. I create my reality, and everything around me is just what I choose to perceive.

I’m a master shifter. I don’t need methods. All I need to do is choose to shift, think of my DR, and it happens.

Nothing in the 3D can stop me from shifting, because I’m in the 4D and pure consciousness.

I told myself these things constantly, and I truly understood what I was affirming. What being pure consciousness and being a master shifter actually meant. I stopped using methods. I stopped acting like this reality was special compared to the ones I wanted to be in. And then... it happened.

I shifted. During the day. I simply thought of my DR, told myself, I want to shift, and there I was—in my DR. It happened because, as I said, my subconscious beliefs changed and then manifested in my reality. The same way they did when I believed I needed methods.

Naturally, I stopped using methods. I stopped trying to shift. I no longer thought, Okay, tonight I’m going to shift, and I'm going to use X method. Because that’s not how you think or act when you’re a master shifter. I let go—why would I bother using a method before sleeping when I could just stand up, think about my DR, and be there? Why would I bother doing a method before falling asleep when I knew I'm a master shifter?

I allowed myself to shift. It was me! When people ask, What method did you use? What did you do to shift?—do you really, truly believe it’s the method that makes you shift? Of course you do, because you live in a reality that seems logical, and you apply that logic to shifting. But shifting isn’t logical! It just happens! I have no idea why—it’s literally just magic to me—but that’s how it works.

So, you need to understand: You make it happen. That’s a good thing, right? It means you don’t need methods, and you don’t need to keep searching for “the key.”

Anyway, I hope this helps someone. (Also yes, before you tell me, I know this is basically Law Of Assumption. But I wanted to explain it in more of shifting terms)

(Also if someone wants to post this to another social you have my permission- especially reddit since I was active in that community but I deleted my acc lol)

Edit: Hey guys there are some additional notes in the comments that might be useful!

[tomriddleslove]

Latch.

✩ Mattheo Riddle x F!Reader

Summary: The one where the two of you have been selected for a 3 week apprenticeship right in the heart of Paris. With it being your last week, you can’t let the reserved and broody Mattheo not have one night out. Alternatively: All it takes is one moment for the boy to realise he’s in love

A/N: Listen to the damn song or i’ll fight you 🤺

Songs: Latch - Sam Smith, Disclosure (do me a favour and listen to this one slightly slowed)

“Oh come on, Mattheo.” You plead, an exasperated tone edging into your voice as you face the impassive boy.

He sits in on the chaise lounge in his room, a book held in his hands. He doesn’t even entertain your pleas, remaining silent as you walk over to him.

You crouch down in front of him, pulling the top of his book down into your hands. This forces him to look down at you, and you swear you see him momentarily falter as he finally notices what you wanted to do, or rather, where you wanted to go.

“It’s our last week here. Soon we’ll be stuck with only the common room as the best place to go out to.” You say with a small huff.

You get up, dusting down the front of the dress you wore. It was a deep, almost blood-red colour, and If Mattheo didn't have such an aversion to anything remotely resemblant of the Gryffindor house he would have complimented you on it. It was made of a delicate fabric, not quite silk but close enough. It draped over your form and came down to your mid-calf, and you had put on a bit of makeup too.

Mattheo had always thought you were beautiful. Whether you had your hair tied up and you were in your school uniform, or if you were out on the quidditch field barking out orders to the terrified 3rd years. But now, you truly were something else.

He looks around his room with a small, impatient sigh. Both Mattheo and you had been selected for a 3-week apprenticeship that would take place near the end of the summer holidays. Had it been anyone else, Mattheo would have been far less enthusiastic. However, it was you, and you were the only person he could tolerate. So, the experience was….

Enjoyable.

“Where do you want to go?” He says, quirking a brow as he dog ears the page.

“Out! Merlin, I don't know, to a restaurant, or on a walk. We’re in Paris, for heaven's sake, let’s do something on our last day!” You plead, continuing.

“Mattheo, I know you hate crowds, but this is Paris," you continue, emphasising the city’s name as if it holds all the magic in the world—which, you suppose, it does. "You can't come to Paris and not do something worth remembering. Besides, I’ve put on a dress! Don’t you like it?"

You do a little twirl to demonstrate, and Mattheo’s gaze follows the fabric as it flares out, his eyes momentarily softening. You know you’ve got him; he’s never been able to resist you when you’re like this, energetic and full of life. The fact that it’s his last day with you here makes the idea of staying in his room seem utterly bleak.

He finally sighs, closing the book and setting it on the side table. "Okay, fine," he says, standing up. "But I’m not dressing up like you."

You grin, tugging his hand as he stands up.

“I don’t expect you to. As long as you’re coming with me.”

You grab your jacket, shoving the keys to the dingy little inn into your pocket as you step out into the cold night air. The streets become livelier as you venture out of the twisted back alleys, lively with chatter and the smell of street food.

You lead him along the Seine, pointing out little things that catch your eye, like street performers and boats with glowing lanterns. Despite his scepticism, Mattheo seems to relax a bit, keeping pace with you and even cracking a faint smile when you tease him about his grumpy expression.

He keeps shooting wary glances at the crowded streets, clearly uncomfortable with the throngs of muggles milling about. You can't help but chuckle at his discomfort, finding it endearing in a strange way.

"Relax, Mattheo," you say, "It's just a walk. What could possibly go wrong?"

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Famous last words," he mutters under his breath.

You hated to admit he was right. You could only pray he didn't notice as you take a turn and venture down an alleyway that seems to be getting impossibly narrower. Just as Mattheo’s about to speak up, the clearing opens up into a small square. At the far end, there's a line of people outside what looks like a converted warehouse, with neon lights casting a soft glow over the scene.

“Nope," he says flatly. "I'm not going in there."

“Oh come on Mattheo, please?” You pout, turning to him. You grab his hand with both of yours, looking up at him earnestly as you continue. “Just for a little while! Its our last weekend here, and I doubt you’ll be coming back to go clubbing in Paris anytime soon.”

His eyes flicker between the queue of people and you, and you swear you see his resolving cracking slowly. But, just as quickly as it came, it left, and he shakes his head.

“Absolutely not. Those are muggles. I refuse to mix with them like this." His voice was stern, but there was an edge of uncertainty, his eyes darting around the lively square.

"Mattheo, it's just one night," you said, squeezing his hand, trying to inject some enthusiasm into his reluctance. "It's Paris, and we're young. Besides, I need you with me, just in case something goes wrong." You threw in a playful wink, knowing that he couldn’t resist the call to play the role of protector.

Mattheo groaned, running a hand through his hair. "This is not my idea of a good time," he said,. "I don't like crowds. I don't like muggles. I don't like... all this."

You took a step closer, your voice softening to a near whisper. "But you like being around me, right?” You say, and he grumbles under his breath.

There it was, the moment of hesitation, the crack in his resolve. He looked into your eyes, and you could tell he was wavering. His stern facade faltered just enough for you to push him toward the line, one step at a time.

Hook, line, and sinker.

"Fine," he grumbles, rolling his eyes in mock exasperation. "But if anyone asks, I'm here under duress. And if something goes wrong, I told you so."

“Yes yes, I’m the bad guy. Heaven forbid you go clubbing and live a little .” You mock, dragging him to join the queue. You don't miss the way he shields you, standing protectively around you as you wait in the cold. The line moves fast enough, and before you know it you're in the club. You grab hold of the hem of Mattheos sleeves, not wanting to risk getting him lost before he curses you to hell for eternity.

Neon lights flash erratically, casting shifting patterns over the dance floor. Music booms from speakers positioned at every corner, making it nearly impossible to hear anything but the thumping bass. Bodies press against one another, dancing and swaying in a chaotic rhythm.

You glance at Mattheo, and his discomfort is written all over his face. His eyes dart around the room, looking for any sign of danger or trouble. It's not just the crowd that has him on edge; it's the sheer volume of it. It’s far more chaotic than anything he's used to, and the fact that it's packed with muggles only amplifies his anxiety.

You give him a reassuring squeeze on his sleeve, knowing he's on high alert. "Relax, Mattheo," you shout over the music. "We're here to have fun, remember?"

He doesn't look convinced, but he nods reluctantly. "Just be careful," he mutters, his voice barely audible above the din. "This place is a madhouse."

You head to the bar, weaving through the sea of people, and order a couple of drinks. You notice that Mattheo is hovering close behind you, his body language protective as if he's ready to jump in at the first sign of trouble. You hand him his drink, but he barely takes a sip, his eyes constantly scanning the crowd.

You weave through the crowd with practised ease, all the whilst Mattheo barges through with little to no care. You sip your drink with reckless abandon, tipping it back as you begin to dance to the music.

It's silly, and it sounds like a nightmare if you were to describe it. But it’s so freeing, so addictive. You’re far from wizarding high society, not having to worry about upholding a certain appearance or looking over your shoulder for those who may have grievances against you. You're surrounded by people who don't know your name, don't know who you are, but they dance alongside you, and won’t bat an eye to a thing you do.

This, is what freedom was.

People move and dance, a blur of faces and limbs. It's hard to tell where one person ends and another begins, and Mattheo is on high alert, trying to keep you in his line of sight.

But then, in a moment of chaos, you disappear into the crowd.

He starts to push through the crowd, not caring who he elbows out of the way, his eyes scanning frantically for a glimpse of you. It feels like everything is moving in slow motion—the throngs of people, the flashing lights, the relentless pulse of the music.

His anxiety builds with each passing second, the worst-case scenarios racing through his mind. He curses himself for letting you drag him into this. He's always been cautious, always careful, and now you're lost in a sea of strangers, and it's all his fault.

Then, suddenly, there's a break in the crowd.

He sees you. You're on the dance floor, surrounded by people, but to him, it feels like you're the only one there. The lights seem to focus on you, casting you in a soft glow.

Mattheo feels his breath catch in his throat. It's like the world has stopped, and all he can see is you. The way you move, the way you laugh, the way you just... shine. It's mesmerising, and he realises instantly that he's never felt this way.

Rather, he’s never realised he’s felt this way before.

All of a sudden it was clear as day. He loved you. There was nothing more to it. No one, and truly no one, could have convinced Mathteo to come here. But the second you had asked, he was a goner, even if he tried to convince himself otherwise

You spot him, your eyes lighting up with your god-forsaken impish smile as you beckon him over. He’s there in an instant, his body carrying him over to you before he even realises it. His hands find home on your hips, and he's stuck staring at you as though you've hypnotised him.

Bodies press against him from all around, but all he sees is you. The way the silk of your dress feels against his fingertips, the way your perfume smells, the way you gaze up at him in an equally as entranced way.

It’s you. All you. It’s always been you.

And who were to deny it? Mattheo, the boy who came with scars and even more secrets, the dark and brooding boy who no one wanted to befriend. The boy who, no matter how hard he tries to plead otherwise, is the most caring boy you know.

When it's raining outside and you're caught without an umbrella, he's the one who magically finds one and holds it over your head. When you're studying late into the night, he's the one who leaves a cup of tea by your side, even if he's long gone by the time you notice it. He'll take the fall for you when you're caught sneaking out after curfew.

How he listens, really listens, even when you talk about the most mundane things as if every word you say is precious.

Mattheo, the boy with the dark hair and the darker secrets, who keeps everyone at arm's length. Yet, he lets you in, inch by inch. He doesn’t talk about his past, but you know it’s there, lurking beneath the surface. You see it in the way he flinches when someone gets too close unexpectedly, or how he tightens up when someone mentions the Dark Arts. But with you, he’s different. With you, he’s at ease.

So when you ask him to come to the club, he comes. Even if he’s not comfortable with it, he’s here because you asked, and he’d go anywhere you asked him to.

The music seems to fade into the background, nothing really mattering when your hands come up to rest on his shoulder. You mindlessly twirl one of his dark curls with your finger, tucking it back as you gaze into his eyes.

You dance with him, The flashing lights and the crowded dance floor don’t matter when you’re in his arms. There’s something about the way he holds you, protective yet gentle, that makes you feel like you’re exactly where you’re supposed to be.

You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, and he leans down, his lips close to your ear. "Are you having fun?" he asks, his voice low, barely audible over the music.

"Only because you're here," you reply, smiling as you wrap your arms around his neck.

It’s in this moment that you know you love him. You love the way he acts like he's tough and detached, but he cares more than anyone you’ve ever known. You love how he’ll stay up late to help you study for an exam, even if he has one the next day. You love that he’ll share his favourite books with you, the ones he never lets anyone else see. You love the way he makes you feel safe, even when he’s terrified of certain things.

Mattheo, the boy who’s never had much use for friends, who finds it easier to keep people at a distance, is the same boy who would drop everything if you needed him. The boy who looks at you like you’re the only thing that matters.

As you dance together, you know that it’s him.

Because it’s him. It’s always been him.

He pulls back slightly but pauses when his face is right in front of yours. Breath mingling, lips just barely brushing. You're so damned close, yet so far, and all he needs to do is lean ever so slightly forward.

“Mattheo-” You murmur, taking every last bit of his restraint with your words as he surges forward, lips meeting yours in a kiss.

It’s sheer longing, years of suppressed feelings coming to the surface. It’s as though you can feel the emotion ebbing off him with the way he kisses you, his hands gripping your waist firmly as he pulls you into him.

He feels like he can breathe now, like he had been suffocating all this time and all he needed was you to breathe freely. He can’t get enough of you, pulling you so impossibly close you'd think he's trying to merge your bodies until you were both one. Now he's had a taste, he needs all of you, every last bit.

Mattheo's breath is hot against your skin as he pulls back for just a moment, just enough to look into your eyes. His gaze is intense, his pupils dilated, and you can see the emotions he's been keeping hidden.

He loves you, and it's written all over his face.

He presses his forehead against yours, his breathing ragged, and you can feel the tension in his shoulders starting to ease. The corner of your lips curve upwards into a small smile as you look at him, playing with the curls on the nape of his neck.

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” You hum, and he nods, following your lead.

-•-

You take his hand, interlocking your fingers with his as you navigate through the throngs of people on your way out of the club. It's still loud and crowded, but none of that matters now. There's a calmness between you and Mattheo, a sense of understanding and connection that feels as natural as breathing.

As you step out into the cool Paris night, the change is striking. The noise and chaos of the club fade away, replaced by the soft hum of the city after dark. The streets are quiet, lit by the glow of streetlights and the occasional flash of a passing car. The atmosphere feels surprisingly warm, though you can’t tell whether it's the warmth you feel being with Mattheo that makes it feel that way.

It's like stepping into another world, one where it's just the two of you. You walk side by side, Mattheo's hand warm in yours, his thumb tracing gentle circles against your skin. It feels so natural, so right that you can't help but wonder what you were doing before this. Everything’s faded into nothingness, there’s nothing that could be more important than Mattheo.

You walk in silence for a few minutes. You admire the views, and Mattheo admires you.

“Are you excited about leaving?” You ask, breaking the silence with your words. Mattheo doesn’t respond for a second, the silence punctuated by the soft clicking of your heels against the cobblestone path.

“Not really.” He says, and you turn to him, raising a brow.

“How come? You seemed more than happy to leave when we first came here.” You jibe as you fumble for the keys, unlocking the door. Just as you unlock the door and push it slightly open, Mattheo wraps his arm around your waist and pulls you inside swiftly. It's so unexpected that you squeal in surprise, and then you're pressed against the door, the wood cool against your back. The lights in the hallway are dim, casting shadows across his face, but you can see the smirk tugging at his lips.

He doesn't give you time to react before he leans in and kisses you, his lips finding yours with an urgency that leaves you breathless. His hand cups your cheek, tilting your head just so, deepening the kiss. He kisses you like he can’t get enough of you, a kiss that says he’s right where he belongs. A small sigh escapes your lips, your hands coming up to tangle in his messy curls for the second time that night as you return the kiss. And as he pulls back, his forehead resting against yours, you can feel his breath hot against your skin.

“Because now that I have you in my space,” he murmurs, his thumb tracing a line along your jaw, “I won’t let go of you.”

You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through you that has nothing to do with the fireplace that crackles away in the room beside you. "Is that a promise?" you tease, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"More like a guarantee," he replies, his smile widening.

Your smile broadens at his promise, and you can’t help but tease him. “I’m happy to hear that, because I was worried I’d have to tie you down to keep you around.”

Mattheo chuckles, his grin spreading as he leans in for another kiss. It’s soft and playful, but there’s a hunger belying it, like he’s making up for lost time. You giggle as he peppers you with quick kisses, his hands never leaving your waist. The way he holds you is both protective and gentle, as if he’s found something precious and doesn’t plan to let it go.

He scoops you up in his arms, carrying you upstairs as he steals kisses from you. Its messy, and you bump into the wall far too many times. He can't wipe the grin off his face as he pushes the door to your bedroom open. The way you laugh between the kisses, the way you hold onto him, the way you gasp his name when you both almost topple down the stairs.

Everything about you is burnt into the recesses of his mind, a presence so strong the only thing Mattheo knows is you.

But that’s alright with him. Besides, it’s only ever been you.

[moonstruckme]

whimsical muggle reader who loves taking note of strange occurrences (i swear my shoes weren't here! like luna basically lol) and marauder bf who can't tell her yet about magic but loves doing some tricks for her to find. (you can pick which marauder! i was gonna go remus but i'm biased lol)

Omg I had so much fun with this, thank you for requesting!

Sirius Black x whimsical!reader ♡ 657 words

“You’re such an old woman, Moony,” Sirius says. “Is that a gray hair I see?” 

“Your fault,” Remus replies mildly. 

“We’re not all obligated to go clubbing whenever the fancy strikes you,” James argues on Remus’ behalf. “I’ve got a match tomorrow, and our poor Moony’s head is hurting him. Give us a rest.” 

“No rest!” Sirius cries, standing from the couch as if he’s addressing a weary army rather than two reluctant men. “Rest is for the elderly and geriatric.” He looks at you hopefully. “You want to go out, don’t you darling?” 

“I’m not partial to clubs,” you reply, but your attention is already elsewhere. “Remus, if you have a headache, you should have Sirius make you some of his tea. He made me some when my head hurt last week and it set me right as rain.” You glance at your boyfriend, considering you with peculiar smugness. “And the same happened when I had the hiccups a few days ago. He has a remedy for everything.” 

James cocks an eyebrow. “Does he?” 

You hum in prideful affirmation, but Sirius seems almost sheepish as he sits back down on the couch, tucking you against his side. “I’ve always been good at brewing,” he says to James with a shrug. 

“You should make him your tea,” you urge softly. 

Sirius kisses the side of your head. “Moony’s headaches are a bit tougher than yours, angel,” he says, adding at your troubled look, “but I’ll make him some later if he likes.”

“Hey,” James says brightly, “what if we go to the pub on fifth? It’s usually quiet in there. We’ll just stay an hour or so.” 

You’ve been dating Sirius long enough to know how this goes with his friends—one hour will turn into four before any of them notice—but nod complaisantly at the hum of assent that goes up from the other boys. 

“Let’s go.” Sirius hops back up before anyone can change their minds. He grabs your coat from the hook by the door, holding it out for you. 

“Oh.” Your mood sinks slightly as you remember your coat. “I should probably go get another from my room. I tore that one yesterday, remember?” 

“I fixed it for you.” 

Sirius gives it a shake, signaling for you to take it from him. You do, looking at him in awe. 

“Really, Siri? That’s so nice of you.” You feel along the hem of your jacket in search of the split you’d made the day before. You can’t find it, nor any of the smaller blemishes the garment had acquired after years of wear. “How did you do this?” 

“I sewed it,” he says breezily, shrugging on his own well-loved leather coat. 

You run your fingers over where you could swear the tear had been. “There’s not even a line or anything.” 

Remus shoots him a look you can’t decipher, and Sirius gives you a somewhat thin-lipped smile. “What can I say? I’m magic with a needle and thread. Put your coat on, baby.” 

You realize then that all three boys are already waiting for you at the door. 

“Oh, sorry.” You carefully pull on your newly impeccable jacket, following them outside. “Thank you, Siri.” 

“Anytime,” he vows, hand finding its way into your back pocket as James leads you all to the pub. 

“You’re so good at fixing things,” you murmur, almost to yourself. “My coat, and when you glued my mug back together so well, and when my peperomia came back to life.” 

Sirius chuckles. “It didn’t come back to life, angel.”

“It was dying,” you reason. “I couldn’t get it to stop wilting, but then all of a sudden it perked up.” 

“You must’ve nursed it back to health,” he replies, and his tone is blasé but the smile he shoots you is oddly pleased. He gives your ass a playful squeeze. “Stranger things have happened, sweet thing.” 

Around Sirius, they certainly have.

[softonshanks]

Starlight and Sailor's Delight

Characters: Luffy x female reader

Total word count: 1129 words

Plot: Luffy and the reader spend a nice night during a festival and Luffy has to face his feelings for Y/N, realising that becoming king of the pirates isn't the only thing he cares about.

Author's note: I'm working on all the request you sent me and I am so so so thrilled because I am having such a fun time writing all this stuff. Unfortunatly today I had a very long work day, so I haven't been able to ultimate your prompts. Thus, I have decided to post a one shot about Luffy I had previously wrote, let me know if you like it (: English isn't my first language so I apologise for any mistakes.

The sun was setting on a warm, tranquil afternoon when Luffy and his crew docked at a remote island known for its serenity and breathtaking views. The Straw Hats had stumbled upon this hidden gem purely by chance—its isolation was both a mystery and an invitation for adventure. The island's sole settlement was a quaint village with narrow streets and cozy cottages, known for its simple beauty and tight-knit community.

Luffy and Y/N walked through the village, taking in the scenery, while the rest of the crew preferred to rest on the ship and join them later. Y/N was enthralled by the vibrant flowers lining the streets and the gentle hum of the nearby brook. Luffy, with his boundless energy, bounced from one spot to another, his excitement contagious. He couldn’t help but notice how Y/N’s eyes sparkled with every new sight, though he wasn’t quite sure why it made him feel so… happy.

“This place is so cool!” Luffy exclaimed, his straw hat tilting as he leaned in close to a flower.

“I can't wait to see it at night,” Y/N said, her voice filled with excitement. “I have always read about this festival where the whole village lights up with lanterns, and the stars look like they’re dancing in the sky.”

“Whoa, that sounds awesome!” Luffy said, his eyes wide with anticipation. “We’ve gotta check it out!”

As they strolled, a local woman approached them, her face beaming with warmth. “Ah, visitors! We’ve been expecting you. Tonight, we’re having our annual stargazing festival. Would you like to join us?”

“Festival? That’s the one you were talking about Y/N!” Luffy shouted, his enthusiasm drawing the attention of nearby villagers. “We’re in!” The woman laughed and led them to the village square, where preparations for the festival were underway. Lanterns were being hung, and a large telescope stood prominently in the center, surrounded by tables of food and drink.

As dusk fell, the village came alive with festivities. Villagers and visitors alike gathered, chatting and laughing as the first stars began to appear. Luffy and Y/N mingled with the crowd, soaking in the lively atmosphere. Luffy’s heart felt lighter than usual, though he couldn’t quite put his finger on why. Being around Y/N just seemed… nice. Y/N was drawn to the telescope, where a young man with glasses was eagerly explaining the constellations to a group of fascinated children. Luffy, however, was more interested in the food table, his eyes widening at the sight of the variety of local treats.

Y/N later joined him, holding a small plate of what looked like sweet pastries. “You’ve got to try these, Luffy. They’re amazing!”. Luffy grabbed a pastry with childlike glee and took a big bite. His eyes lit up. “This is awesome! We should take some back to the ship, so Sanji can taste it and cook it for us again once we leave,” said with his mouth full of food.

They spent the evening sampling food, enjoying the music, and laughing with the locals. As the sky darkened and the stars became more prominent, the atmosphere grew more magical. Villagers gathered around the telescope, and Luffy, never one to miss out on fun, decided to take a turn. Y/N watched with a soft smile as Luffy peered through the telescope, his face scrunched up in concentration. “See anything interesting, Captain?”

“Whoa, I think I see a giant meatball!” Luffy exclaimed, pulling back with a wide grin. “Oh, wait… nope, just a star. But it kinda looks like one!”

Y/N laughed, shaking her head. “Only you, Luffy.”

“Hey, I’ve got a pretty good imagination,” Luffy said, puffing out his chest with pride. “And a great appetite!”

Y/N giggled, her heart fluttering at his carefree attitude. There was something so endearing about Luffy—something that made her feel warm and safe, even amidst his wild antics.

As the night wore on, the focus shifted to dancing. The villagers formed a circle, and soon, Luffy and Y/N found themselves caught up in the rhythm. The music was lively, and the dance was infectious. Luffy’s movements were wild and uncoordinated, but filled with pure joy. At one point, Luffy noticed Y/N standing off to the side, watching the others with a thoughtful expression. He bounded over to her, grabbing her hand with his usual enthusiasm. “Come on, Y/N! You can’t just stand there. Let’s dance!”

“I’m having fun just watching,” Y/N replied with a soft smile. “But thanks, Luffy.”

Luffy tilted his head, his eyes full of curiosity. “You sure? You look like you’re thinking too much.”

Y/N’s smile widened, but there was a hint of something deeper in her eyes. “Just thinking about how much I’ve enjoyed today. And how glad I am that I met you”. Luffy’s grin softened into something more sincere, though he wasn’t entirely sure why her words made his heart skip a beat.

“I’m glad too, Y/N. It’s been awesome having you around”. Y/N’s heart warmed at his words, and for a moment, they stood there, the sounds of the festival fading into the background. The stars above seemed to shine a little brighter, casting a gentle glow over the village. She hesitated for a second, then leaned in and rested her head on Luffy’s shoulder. His face flushed slightly, a rare sight for the usually carefree pirate.

“That is nice!” he said, stopping for a moment and just enjoying the view of villager’s dancing, while he and Y/N were in peace. "This is really nice," repeated, as he rested his head on Y/N's one. While the dance continued, something shifted in the air between them. Luffy found himself drawn to Y/N in a way he didn’t quite understand. Her laugh, her smile, the way she seemed to glow under the lantern light—it all made him feel… different. A warm, unfamiliar feeling settled in his chest, but he shrugged it off. He was Luffy, after all. The only thing he wanted was to be kings of the pirates, maybe some meat most of the time. He didn’t have time for complicated stuff like feelings… right?

“Luffy,” Y/N’s voice broke the crystallized moment they were in. “Thank you for tonight.”

Luffy’s eyes lit up at her words, though he wasn’t quite sure why they made him feel so warm inside. “I’m glad you’re having fun, Y/N. This is awesome!”

Y/N’s heart swelled at his simple sincerity. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his, trying to find the right words to express what she was feeling. But before she could speak, Luffy, with his usual impulsiveness, did something that caught even him by surprise. He leaned down, closing the distance between them, and pressed his lips to hers.

It was a gentle, tentative kiss, filled with all the innocence and curiosity that defined Luffy. Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise, her heart pounding in her chest. For a moment, everything else faded away—the music, the laughter, the festival—leaving only the two of them, connected in the quiet of the night.

[dilatorywriting]

Valentine's Day Special: Let Them Fight

GN!Reader x Malleus Draconia vs. Azul Ashengrotto vs. Vil Schoenheit Word Count: 5.3k

Summary: Who knew that in a world of magic, and mayhem, and outright villainy, that it'd be something as stupid as Valentine's Day that would push these idiots over the edge. Or, Malleus, Azul, and Vil go to war over some chocolates

A/N: This MC/Plot takes place in the Heroes vs Villains universe -- specifically Post-Staff's route, rather than any of our other lovely idiot husbands.

There was always some sort of strange overlap of customs from your world to this one. Halloween seemed to have survived more or less intact (even if it was a bit more, uh, extreme than the subtle evening of giving out treats and dressing as ghosts that you remembered). Winter Holidays were still very much a Thing, even if all other connotations had been stripped from them. Moreover, it was like someone had taken your familiar Earthen calendar and just sort of… mirrored it. Distorted it a bit. Just a lil’ bit more chaos than would have been socially acceptable back home.

So when you made a sly little joke about stocking up on discount chocolates after the Valentine’s Day rush and no one laughed—not even a little chortle, or an irritable eyeroll—you initially thought it was maybe to do with the irrationality of Sam’s Shop ever having a sale to begin with. You had not assumed that, you know, there was no Valentine’s Day at all.

“It’s an important holiday, then? Where you’re from?” Azul mused, busy scribbling endless, chicken scratch, notes in the margins of some form that was probably very important.

“I mean, not really,” you frowned, tossing your Mostro-Branded apron onto its hook. “Maybe. Yes? I don’t really know, actually.”

He hummed and moved to push his glasses back up the bridge of his nose. “Well, whatever it is, I’m always looking for new events to host at the Lounge. What exactly is it?”

“It’s a sort of special day for couples. Romance. Lovey-dovey nonsense,” you shrugged, and watched Azul’s finger slip off the slick metal frame of his glasses and nearly take his eye out. You waved off his obvious disgust with a dramatic sigh (I mean, why else would he be so stiff and red?). “Yeah, yeah. I know. It’s ridiculous.”

“I—I never said that!” he spluttered, and then paused to cough into his fist and clear his throat. “It just—I just wasn’t expecting something like that to…”

“Exist?”

He grinned, wry. His cheeks were still a bit too pink. “Precisely.”

“You would have loved my world,” you said. “Very capitalistic. Lots of cash-grab holidays like that.”

Azul laughed.

“I’m sure I would be fond of any place you came from.” He paused, and his expression puckered up a bit miserably—like he really hadn’t intended to express such a sentiment aloud. But he managed to smooth the sharp line of his frown back into that usual, smarmy, smirk of his easily enough. “But either way! Tell me more!” he grinned, reaching forward to grab a stack of blank paper and a fresh pen. “I’d love to hear all about it.”

.

.

The next day you were supposed to help the Drama Club start building some stage scenery for their newest play. It was proper grunt work, which was perhaps the only sort of work you were actually qualified for. And Vil always made sure that there were plenty of disgustingly healthy but still quite tasty snacks available for the help to munch on. The food spread alone would have been worth the trip, but on top of that, Vil had made you promise. Practically a blood oath, binding you and your meager free time to the shitty supply closet in the corner of the Auditorium. And as sour as he could be sometimes, you really could never say no to him when he always looked so heart meltingly fond whenever you did agree to while away the hours at his side. That lovely face and even lovelier smile of his were fucking lethal. A war crime, surely, to use it against someone as plain and susceptible to bribery as you were.

But today you were now an idiot on a mission—an idiot determined to spread the joy of a trashy holiday that really probably shouldn’t exist in the first place, let alone in a world where people worshipped storybook villains as veritable deities. And you’d already bought all the molds, and the trays, and you really didn’t have a lot of spare pocket money to begin with, so letting this investment go to waste would not only be a shame, but a terrible business investment.

“What do you mean you’re not coming,” Vil sneered, glaring down his perfectly straight nose at you.

“I really am sorry,” you said, mostly genuine. “But I have something I need to do this afternoon.”

“You’ve made other plans?” he frowned, something a little too unsettled to fit with his usual regality twisting across his expression.

“I have to get ready for Valentine’s Day,” you explained, and his brow tugged down further. Though that earlier twinge of panic seemed to have vanished at least. You pointedly shook your grocery bag full of goodies. “I’m going to make chocolates for everyone.”

“Chocolates?” Vil echoed, confused.

You nodded. “It’s a tradition back home. You give stuff like candy and flowers to the people you care about. Normally it’s a holiday for couples, or whatever. But. Well…”

The ‘I Am Fully Aware That I’m Single as a Pringle, Please Just Let Me Have This One Thing’ was left unsaid, but it hung in the air around your head like a very persistent storm cloud nonetheless. Vil, magnanimously, seemed perfectly happy to ignore the Woe Is Me implications spewing from your mouth. Instead, he leaned forward until he was dipping precariously close into your personal space. His amethyst eyes had lit with blatant interest at your ramblings, and he hummed low in his throat.

“Is that so?” he mused, gaze lidded and warm. “That sounds… intriguing.”

You nodded past the heady scent of his cologne fogging your head. What was it with attractive people, huh? It was so unfair. You don’t get to look and smell good. Pick a lane. Save some dignity for the rest of us.

“So, I promise I’ll help another day. I just have a feeling making chocolates is going to wind up being a lot harder than I think it will.”

Because that’s how it always went in your stupid slice-of-life shows. The poor, harried, protagonist thinking they’re doing a good deed—painstakingly constructing their own, special, homemade goodies for all their important people. Making them with love. And then having it all blow up in their face like a goddamn, cocoa flavored, nuke. Nope. Not you, motherfucker. Your chocolates were going to be divine. You were going to take every, tropey, precaution in the book. And that of course included allotting yourself ample time to make mistakes your masterpiece.

“Of course,” Vil grinned. “How could I possibly begrudge you for wanting to spend your time on something so heartfelt?”

“Thank you,” you blurted, relived. Because at least he got it. Azul had been so ridiculously insistent that you should prepare all your Valentine’s Day wishes as a team. Which was not the point. He’d spent hours last night trying to wheedle his way into your plans—with endless platitudes about ‘business partners always being there for each other,’ and ‘how would he know if he was celebrating to your standards if he wasn’t given a model to work off of first?’ Utter bullshit. He’d probably just wanted free labor.

“Tomorrow, then?” Vil beamed and you nodded.

“Tomorrow,” you confirmed.

“Well, then,” he hummed. “I better get to work as well. I suppose the scenery can wait.”

You nodded in farewell and began the trek back to Ramshackle and its marginally functional kitchens. You hadn’t realized Vil was taking on any new projects, but if it was enough to have him putting off the Club’s activities as well then it must have been pretty important. Maybe he’d get you tickets to it whenever he finished—whatever it was. If there were tickets? How did any of the things he did actually work? Hell if you knew.

.

.

Making chocolates was, in fact, a laughably easy endeavor. And you found yourself cursing every goddamn Shoujo Bullshit Manga under the sun for leading you to think otherwise. The hardest part of the entire thing was fighting off Grim and his wandering paws.

You made up some basic truffles which were, again, stupidly simple. Just some messily chopped chocolate, cream, and a little splash of vanilla to make it Special. Once those were shaped into messy blobs, you dipped them into some more melted chocolate and bam. That was it. That was literally it. You felt like a genius—sitting there mushing up balls of cocoa like high-end playdough.

By 6PM, you had all your little darlings tucked into the refrigerator to harden, all the gauzy, red, boxes lined up on your counter and ready to be filled, and Grim had been placated with an offering of all your dirty mixing bowls. The tiny, demonic, beast was passed out at the dingy kitchen table—one of said bowls wedged onto his head like an astronaut’s helmet. Hopefully it was just a food coma and not, like, an actual coma-coma. Real cats couldn’t eat chocolate, but Grim never really seemed real at all. So hopefully he’d be fine.

You wiped down your cooking space once, twice. Paced up and down the narrow hallway until you were wearing away the already threadbare rugs, and spent way too long just standing in front of the fridge—staring in on your chocolates like a psychotic kidnapper scoping out their next victims.

Eventually you realized that you maybe needed to do something with your evening that wasn’t just creeping on your confections, and set out into the frosty, night, air for a stroll.

Which is, of course, where you ran into your familiar, horned, friend—staring up into the starry sky in a wistful manner that darkened his pale complexion into something nearly ominous. He always looked a bit like that, like something unearthly and detached from the rest of the world.

“Tsunotarou!” you chirped happily, and that adrift-at-sea expression of his melted right off his face.

“Child of Man,” he greeted, inclining his head politely. “I wasn’t expecting to see you this evening.” His brow furrowed, almost confused. “Is it not too cold for you?”

Your breath was, in fact, fogging in front of your face. And you couldn’t really feel your toes anymore. But the electric anticipation of tomorrow was keeping you warm enough. Even if only in spirit.

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you waved him off. And then, because you couldn’t help yourself, you leaned forward on your tippytoes and blurted out, “Happy Almost Valentine’s Day!”

“Valentine’s Day?” Malleus repeated back at you, looking like you’d just handed him an unsolvable differential equation.

“It’s a holiday from back home,” you explained for the umpteenth time that day. “And normally I’m not too fussed about it, but this year I’m really excited to give everyone their chocolates!” You grinned. “And you too, of course. I have to make sure I give them to all my important people.”

The furrow between his brows vanished, but the blatant, gaping, confusion remained. He looked like you’d nearly startled him into an early grave.

“I am one of your most important people?” he asked, slow as a tortoise making its way up an incline.

You nodded cheerfully, still bellied by your earlier culinary successes and excellent mood. “Of course you are! We’re friends, aren’t we? And besides. Valentine’s Day is for showing people how much you care about them.”

“What an interesting concept,” he mused, bringing a finger up to tap at his chin. “To think your world had such a heartfelt tradition—it’s quite a lovely surprise.”

You laughed. “If you think the chocolates are special, you should see what some couples do for each other. Rooms full of flowers, fancy date nights—I’m just managing the bare minimum.”

“Couples?” he echoed, and you felt the first teeny, hot, thread of chagrin work its way past your enthusiasm.

“Well, normally Valentine’s Day focuses on, like, romantic things,” you said, averting your gaze just in time to miss the tension lance through his shoulders. “But it can be for all sorts of affection!” you hastily added.

“Is that so…” the Prince hummed. He lifted his pensive gaze once more and stared you down with that weighted intensity that you’d only just recently learned how not to buckle beneath. “And you wish to celebrate this day. With me?”

“…you don’t mind, do you?” you asked, hesitant.

“Of course not, Child of Man,” he beamed, his lips curling up into a smile that put all his too-sharp teeth on display. “But you’ll have to excuse me now, I’m afraid. It seems I have some preparations to undertake this evening.”

“Oh,” you blinked. “Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow, then.”

“Yes,” Malleus said. “You will.”

.

.

It was officially Valentine’s Day, and you were ready to begin your mission of forcing your sweets onto every, single, one of your reluctant friends. Let them be pissy and tsundere. You weren’t afraid to weep and proclaim your undying, shounen-talk-no-jutsu, levels of friendship. Okay. Maybe you were a little. But these grouchy bastards had very easily become your grouchy bastards, and so help you God, they would suffer under your affection and they would like it.

There were plenty of small boxes—all nice, neat, corners with little bows perched on top. But you had also prepared a singular, larger, tray. It was cleaner cut than the rest, with bold, contrasting, colors and a simple elegance. You stared it down with a strange sort of disquiet brewing in your gut. Maybe you were being presumptuous. Goodness knows you’d more than dealt with the searing, emotionally destructive, consequences of that before. But all the same…

You squared your shoulders and spent a moment convincing yourself that your spine was quite sturdy—a proper, titanium, support system—and then popped the Big Box into the bag with the others.

Your first stop was Heartslabyul, and you burst through the ornate, crimson, doors like a manic home invader.

“I come bearing gifts,” you proclaimed, merrily doling out the boxes to your favorite idiot duo. You set three more aside, with little labels for Riddle, Trey, and Cater respectively. Normally you wouldn’t trust a dorm full of teenage boys not to devour any scrap of unattended food in sight, but Riddle had long since struck the fear of God into these poor lads. So you figured it’d be safe.

Deuce’s face lit up and he accepted the chocolate with near starry-eyed enthusiasm.

“Are these your holiday presents? Like the Santa Claus?” he asked, looking very much like a bouncy golden retriever preparing itself for congratulatory head pats.

You leaned forward with an indulgent huff to give him his pats. “No. But close enough.”

You pawned off three boxes on Ruggie when he tried to duck past you in the hallway—one for him, one for Leona, and one extra as payment for making him do your dirty work of playing delivery boy to Mister Grump in the first place. You slipped Jack his on the way into Trein’s morning lecture, and managed to press a box into Jamil’s hands before he slunk off to the library. Kalim cheered so loudly when you handed him one that your ears started to ring.

And then trouble arrived in the form of two, slippery, eels draping themselves across your shoulders. Normally the destructive duo seemed to act on their own prerogative, but on this fortuitous morning their Lord and Master was surprisingly not too far behind.

“Shrimpy!~” Floyd trilled, dragging you into a one-armed hug that was really more of a slightly-less-aggressive headlock than anything else. “Azul says you came up with this stupid holiday! And he made us work all day yesterdayto put together stuff for the Lounge! It’s not fair!”

Your legs shook under the weight of the new tumor that had made its home on your back.

“Now, Floyd,” Jade chirped. All finely manicured cruelty. “If you’re to blame anyone for going overboard with this entire situation, you ought to lay the fault on our fearless leader.” His bi-colored eyes flashed, amused. “Isn’t that right, Azul?”

Said ‘fearless leader’ looked like he was sucking on a lemon. He glared bitterly at his subordinate, seeming to share an entire, silent, argument with him, before turning back on you with a heavy sigh and the barest hint of angry flush in his cheeks.

“Prefect,” he grinned past his obvious discomfort, all sparkling, white, teeth. “I have to thank you for sharing so much information about this ‘Valentine’s Day’ of yours. It’s such a unique event, and it seems like our preparations at the Lounge are already being received incredibly well.”

“That’s good,” you nodded, trying and failing to shrug the Leech off your shoulders. “I’m glad I could help.”

Azul hummed under his breath, his eyes darting away for a moment. His glasses reflected the muted light of the hall in an odd way—making it difficult to read his expression. He cleared his throat and when he looked back up at you, the tips of his ears had gone pink.

“You’re more than welcome to come by, of course,” he beamed, suave as could be.

“I mean,” you blinked. “I would hope so. I work there.”

Floyd let out a bark of laughter and Jade snickered into his glove. The pleasant pink tinting Azul’s skin was heating to a near sunburned red. He looked down and coughed into his fist.

“Yes…” he mumbled. “I—I’m aware. But what I meant is… What I meant—” He frowned. It was a tight, pouty, little thing that scrunched up his entire face. That mottled red had spread to the bridge of his nose.

“I do believe what Azul is trying to say,” Jade stepped in, clearly taking some sort of pity on his tongue-tied friend. Or perhaps pity was the wrong word for it, seeing how smug he looked, “is that he would like to invite you to the event personally. As an honored guest, not an employee.”

“Oh,” you blinked, startled. Then hesitated, cautious on instinct. There was always some sort of catch to the Octomer’s kindness. “I don’t know if I could afford whatever fancy thing you’ve thrown together.”

“You wouldn’t be paying for it,” Azul assured you, some of that sickly flush having finally started to recede from his cheeks. You hoped he was feeling alright. “You’ve contributed more than enough for the day. It would be on the house.”

Jade loudly cleared his throat and Azul huffed, eyes sliding away yet again.

“I would be paying,” he finally mumbled. And then, even quieter, “As I believe is the custom.”

Just as you were about to thank him for his startling bought of generosity (and also ask after his health, because between the weird, pink, tinge to his skin and the aforementioned generosity, clearly somethingwas out of sorts with him), you noticed a sneaky hand working its way into your bag of goodies, and you immediately were on the defensive.

“Hey!” you snapped, spinning out of Floyd’s stranglehold. “You only get one!”

“Then I want the really big one!” he demanded, making grabby motions at it.

“No!” you squeaked, and clutched it protectively to your chest. The trio looked at you with varying degrees of surprise and you cleared your throat awkwardly. “This one—This one is special.”

“Oh?” Jade cooed, eyes flickering back towards Azul, who seemed determined to look absolutely anywhere else. “Is it now?”

“Awww,” Floyd whined. “That’s no fair! Who’s it for, anyways?!”

You gripped the box tighter and now it was your turn to stiffly avert your eyes down to the ugly carpet. “It’s not—I’m not—” you cleared your throat and forced the jitter from your voice. “I’m not ready to give it to him yet.”

The silence that followed was absolutely the worst thing you’d experienced in a long, long, time. Overblots and all. You could practically hear your blood pounding in your ears. You were just about to turn and beat a hasty retreat when a familiar, snappish, voice called your name from the other side of the corridor.

“There you are, potato,” Vil huffed, coming to stand at your side and bodily inserting himself between you and your tormentors. He met Azul’s petulant sneer with a frankly terrifying one of his own. “What are you doing here? I thought we agreed you’d be eating lunch with me today.”

You remembered no such thing, but if it got you out of this verbal minefield of a conversation, you were more than willing to take the claim at face value.

“Apologies,” Azul cut in with all his usual, mafioso, flair. “But the Prefect will be taking their afternoon meal at the Mostro Lounge today.”

“Is that so?” Vil hummed, sounding positively venomous.

“Unless you think you can make an offer good enough to sway them otherwise,” Azul chirped, equally as unpleasant.

Vil laughed—cold and sharp as crystal. It was the most elegant display of blatant irritation you’d ever seen.

“Of course you’d only consider this entire situation on a transactional basis,” he drawled, entirely unimpressed. Azul flinched and his expression screwed up into something near petulant. “I would expect no less. Are you planning to lock them into a contact too, hmm? Sign away everything in formal, sterile, terms?” Vil crossed his arms, and you were reminded sharply once more how very, very lucky you were to not be on his bad side (even if you hadn’t realized before all this that Azul apparently was on said bad side. You had no idea they disliked each other so terribly). “I really hadn’t expected you to have a single, romantic, bone in your body, and yet somehow I’m still disappointed to be proved so entirely correct.”

Azul looked ready to explode, and even though Jade and Floyd and melted back into the shadows at the start of this entire encounter, the pair of them were starting to look a bit murderous too—like sharks lazily circling the dark, ocean, depths.  

“Don’t you think you deserve better?” Vil asserted, turning back to face you with a soft cant of the head. You blinked back in shock.

“Uh,” you gaped, absolutely fucking lost.

And then, like a beacon of unrivaled, black-drenched, hope, you spotted Malleus making his way down the hallway. He was flanked by his trio of housemates-cum-pseudo-bodyguards. Normally you tried to leave him alone when his rabid, green-haired, guard dog was yipping at his heels, and on top of that, the idea of using your classmates’ ingrained fear of the Fae Prince to your own advantage upset your rather staunch sensibilities. But this was an emergency.

“Tsunotarou!” you called, and it absolutely sounded like the cry for help it was.

He perked up immediately and you watched him nearly crash to a standstill. And then his sharp, neon, gaze locked on the dueling Housewardens circling you like a pair of snapping wolves, and his merry expression shuttered into something positively glacial. Which was—Fuck. I mean. Come on. What the fuck was going on today—

“Child of Man,” he droned, crossing the short distance with all the grace of the near-mythical, arcane, master that he was. His posture was more collected and regal than you’d ever seen it, and he loomed all the taller for it.

Azul and Vil had gone tense at your side, one certainly more so than other. The Octomer looked incredibly unsettled at Malleus’s sudden arrival, but Vil just looked angrier. It was the sort of unpleasantness that bloomed whenever someone challenged him or his competencies over and over—inevitably pushing the normally composed beauty into an indignant rage.

“Happy Day of Valentine’s,” Malleus continued, slotting himself firmly into the veritable territory dispute going down. “Are you quite alright?”

No, you wanted to wail. No! I’m so confused! I have no idea what’s going on! I just wanted to give my friends chocolates!

But you never managed to get those words or any others past your lips, because Sebek Zigvolt shot to his master’s side with all the speed of the lightning for which he was so named, and immediately began to scream.

“HOW DARE YOU INTERRUPT THE YOUNG MASTER’S AFTERNOON ROUTINE!” he shrieked at the top of his very impressive lungs.

You weren’t sure if he was howling at you (very likely) or just anyone who wasn’t Malleus, but Jade took the opportunity to slink forward from the shadows with a sharp tut-tut.

“Perhaps none of you deserve the Prefect’s special attentions,” he piped in, sounding very much like someone intentionally throwing a cannister of gasoline onto an already roaring fire. “Or any chocolates at all—let alone the ones set aside for someone special.”

At this, silence once more rang through the corridor and you wanted to throttle that stupid eel.

“There is a special box?” Malleus asked first, brow shooting up as his expression tugged with… something.

“I—I mean, I made all of yours special!” you defended, holding the wrapped treasure tightly to your chest. “But… I guess. Yes. There’s one that’s a little bigger than the others.”

At this, all three Housewardens exchanged pointed looks.

Jade smiled serenely once more, and then continued his absolute massacre upon your person.

“Yes, indeed,” he nodded. “And our dearest Prefect only just mentioned that—hmm. How did you word it? Ah. That’s right. ‘I’m not ready to give it to him yet.’”

The trio tensed. All looking absolutely ready to pounce. At—at what, you had no idea.

“Perhaps,” the wretch mused, “it would be best for you all to temper your rage until the victor is decided, hmm?” He paused to tap at his chin for a moment, and then his lips split into a mean, jagged, grin. “Afterwards? Well, I suppose that whole cheery sentiment about ‘love and war’ still holds true.”

You gulped, feeling startlingly like Jade had just tried to serve you up on a silver platter.

But when neither Azul, Vil, or Malleus made any further moves to murder each other… well. As sacrificial as it all felt, at least it must have worked.

The rest of the day passed in a tense sort of fugue. You certainly hadn’t expected your attempts at bringing some holiday cheer to Night Raven to go so… Uh…

But either way, you managed to survive through the rest of the afternoon, and before you knew it, all that remained of all your tireless efforts and good will was the Special Box. The big one. The one that you’d put together with extra care and hopes for better things. You glared down at it for a moment, feeling sweat starting to bead over your palms. But you couldn’t chicken out now. Not after you’d come so far! Everyone was acting so strange, and it was all so weird. And as much as that unfamiliarity had your teeth on edge and your hackles raised, you didn’t want to regret not giving out the last of your well-made sweets.

Well, here goes nothing, you frowned. You took a deep breath, willed yourself to be brave, and smiled your biggest smile.

“Here,” you beamed, more than a little shy and still a bit horrified by whatever pissing match had been going down earlier in the day, and finally offered the grandest of your chocolate boxes to the man standing opposite you.

Divus Crewel accepted your offering daintily, plucking at the crisp, sharp, wrapping with his crimson gloves. He arched one of his thin brows at you and you fought the nervous heat rising in your cheeks.

“Happy Valentine’s Day,” you blurted. “I know it’s not a thing here, but I thought it’d be nice.”

The second eyebrow joined the first—practically jumping all the way up into his fringe.

“I appreciate the gesture. Though from what I understand of all the garish advertising I’ve seen for Mostro Lounge’s new event, I assumed this was a holiday for romantic overtures,” he intoned, wry.

You spluttered and waved your hands furiously. “I mean! Normally! Yes! But also…” You trailed off, fighting the urge to fidget. “If you don’t have a—a, well, someone, then Valentine’s is just a nice excuse to give something to people you care about.” You averted your gaze and lost the battle to twist your fingers into your jacket sleeves. “My family used to give me chocolates every year. So. I thought I could… Well…” you trailed off on a grumble, embarrassed.

Crewel sighed and popped the lid off the box. He plucked two truffles from their casing—keeping one for himself and handing you the other.

“Well, then. A very happy Valentine’s to you, Prefect,” he droned and popped the chocolate into his mouth with a thoughtful hum.

You lit up like a Christmas tree and happily gobbled up your own treat. So distracted were you by the one-two-punch combo of the delicious sugar and even sweeter taste of your Professor’s approval that you almost entirely missed the pointed glare he shot over your shoulder.

“I appreciate your regard,” he said, loud. Sharp. And like he wasn’t talking to you at all. “And while I’m certain that if you do pick a ‘someone’ for yourself to celebrate with in the following years, they’ll have to work very hard to be worthy of such a gift, hmm?” His lip curled unpleasantly, in direct contrast to the indulgent warmth that had been tugging at his expression only a moment before. “I could hardly allow you to waste such a thoughtful gesture on someone unworthy.”

The Octavinelle Housewarden had the decency to look at least a little panicked—his face going pale and gaunt from where he was shrinking into his high collar. There was a frantic look about him, like he was trying to weigh the cost-benefit ratio of going up against his professor in his head, and realizing that he was stupidly, willfully, walking right into a lose-lose situation. And that, sadly—miserably—he was going to keep doing just that. The other two, however, looked entirely undeterred. Schoenheit curled his lip right back at him, more than ready to duke it out here and now, and Crewel fought the urge to remind the blonde that he was the adult in this situation, thank you very much. The adult who could very well revoke the Warden’s access to his Alchemy Labs as it suited him. The very alchemy labs that he knew Vil had been using to concoct all kinds of new, personalized, gifts for you. Draconia simply looked on with that unnervingly ancient, green, leer of his. Like he was staring down a particularly fascinating game. The Fae Prince was the most unsettling of the trio, if only because that while Crewel was more than confident enough in his abilities to subdue his other wayward students, fighting off an Immortal, All Powerful, Dragon was going to require at least a little bit of prep work.

Divus Crewel sighed, and it rattled all the way out from the marrow of his bones.

“Come, then,” he rumbled, directing you to follow him back into his office. “It’s not chocolates, but I probably have some of those ridiculous cookies of yours lying around somewhere.” Which he did. Boxes upon boxes of them. Tucked away special for whenever you came to visit. Not that he’d ever willingly admit that, even under the pain of death.

Your eyes went wide and warm as you positively beamed.

It was rotten work, certainly. He shot one, last, warning glare down the hall at the trio of infatuated interlopers as he firmly shut his office door behind you and your absolute oblivious idiocy. He’d do it. Of course he would. But, Christ alive. He was going to need a stronger drink.

[beauspot]

Thoughts on my second watch of Good Omens 2

i heard the fly buzzing in my first watch but didn’t know why and now i know

Maggie my sweet darling angel baby i love you

Aziraphale turning their car yellow

crowleys “no more dying” in extreme scottish.

Disposable Demon i’ll save you from these awful people i promise 😭

Aziraphale’s little smile when he says “smitten” to Crowley

i wonder if crowley was especially hurt because aziraphale seemed to be able to forgive gabriel who tried to kill him but can’t seem to forgive him being a demon.(still seeing all of this as a metaphor for internalized homophobia, like aziraphale knows he’s not the perfect angel he wants to be and he’s projecting his feelings about that onto crowley)

I can’t believe we got an actual ball. like pride and prejudice, bridgerton ball.

the beautiful score that started playing when aziraphale brought the chandelier down

i didn’t even realize that when they walked in the outfits changed. mrs sandwich made me realize(also i love her)

Nina being the only one to question the weird magical shit Aziraphale and Crowley do sends me so bad.

Season 2 took everything i liked about the first season (aziracrow, queer subtext, gay people, archangels, and beelzebub) and expanded on it

The adorable smile on Aziraphales face when he asked Crowley to dance 😭 he’s so pure(i should have known something was up, everything was going too well)

Crowley saying i won’t leave you on your own and Aziraphale saying i know 🤒

why isn’t aziraphale able to miracle nina and maggie??

crowley and mrs sandwich flirting. too cute

crowley saying he’s neither nice nor a lad.

crowleys little run in heaven when he’s following muriel

maggie giving the middle finger to the demons and laughing in their face when they tried to belittle her. queen

defensive aziraphale is so badass. just because he’s soft doesn’t mean he can’t stand up for himself or the people he loves

the random guitar solo in the final episode theme is so bizarre to me. why is it there?

ahh the raining hearts symbolizing crowleys vavoom plan!

crowley’s heavenly outfit not being white but “light grey”

the relief in aziraphale’s voice when crowley came back 😀

also him mumbling about the halo like he did with the sword 😭 but he sure loves to boast about the things he’s done right to crowley

aziraphale and crowley doing magic together has the power to set off alarm bells in heaven and they barely tried, they’re just in sync

saraqael was such a good addition to the cast.

crowley smiling at aziraphale going off on the angels and demons

“where beelzebub is, is my Heaven.” 🥹

the little knowing look after crowley mentions alpha centauri

the way they just interrupted michael’s speech by leaving 😭

i think that aziraphale was about to ask crowley to move in but that’s my opinion

the look the metatron gave crowley is so strange. i don’t like that

“JUST US. NOT YOU.”

“You’re not helping, angel.”

the softness in aziraphale’s voice when he talked about making crowley an angel again? how can you hate him! he thought he was doing the right thing!

also the miscommunication these two have is completely out of hand because crowley asked aziraphale if he said no and aziraphale hadn’t given an answer AT ALL to the metatron. the metatron told him to take his time. he went back to tell crowley the news first.

crowleys confession makes my stomach hurt. the way his voice broke when he said “we’ve spent our existence pretending that we aren’t.”. the way he had to force himself past his anxiety to tell aziraphale he wanted to spend eternity with him? fuck.

the way aziraphale tells crowley to come with him. like and through all of this they are losing each other, oh my god.

“i need you!” god aziraphale punch me in the face next time why don’t you?

i feel like in all this anger towards aziraphale a lot of people are ignoring that he put himself out there too. he was telling crowley he needed him just like crowley was

“no nightingales.” FUCK YOU GAIMAN

the way aziraphale touched his lips after. dear GOD. someone get michael sheen an emmy

seeing aziraphale struggle against his wanting to kiss crowley back and his fear and wanting him to come back to heaven further supports my internalized homophobia analogy

also even knowing the kiss was going to happen because of the spoiler it still didn’t quell my shock. nor did it ruin the scene, i think it actually surprised me more because it did not happen how i thought it would.

side note i saw some people saying they thought the kiss was going to be a cop out in some way. like a body swap or as a joke and i don’t really know why?

it just occurred to me that both aziraphale and crowley thought the other one was just doing that thing they do where they say they won’t help, or they’re on their own but they eventually come back not knowing that the other was completely set on these plans they had. this wasn’t like armageddon or saving gabriel.

the second coming…of jesus…

crowley cutting off “a nightingale sang in berkeley square”...i’m gonna jump

this being the ending for the next 3-4 years. oh.

[gardenschedule]

What Happened In India?

(or around that time...)

Before

Shortly before we were due to leave for India John spent the weekend with Derek Taylor, a former journalist who had become the Beatles' press spokesman and a good friend to us all. He, his wife Joan and their five children lived in a big country house where they seemed incredibly contented. When he came home after that weekend John put his arms around me and said, 'Let's have loads more kids, Cyn, and be really happy' Despite my increasingly strong feeling that John was slipping away from me, it seemed at moments like that as though nothing had changed. John was off drugs and seemed almost like his old self. 'We can make it work, Cyn,' he said. 'When we're in India we'll have time for us and everything will be fine.' I hoped he was right.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

Cyn hoped that Rishikesh would afford seclusion, privacy and an opportunity for her and John to rediscover each other and to revive their marriage. ‘Impossible hopes,’ she said sadly. ‘John said to me just before we went to India that he wanted us to have more children. Well that came out of the blue, I can tell you. I was really surprised, as he’d never said a word about that before.

Lesley-Ann Jones - The Search for John Lennon

Cynthia: “It was a time for us all to drop out for a while. The years of fame and fortune had taken their toll on our nerves and minds. John and I both felt closer. There seemed to be a greater possibility of our finding a solution to personal difficulties. If our trip to India wasn’t going to solve our emotional problems, then nothing would.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

That letter made it crystal clear that they [John and Yoko] had been in contact. How well had they got to know one another? I tackled John, who told me she'd written many times, both letters and cards, but said, 'She's crackers, just a weirdo artist who wants me to sponsor her. Another nutter wanting money for all that avant-garde bullshit. It's not important.' I had no way of knowing whether he was telling me the truth. He sounded genuine, but a sixth sense told me there was more to this than he was admitting. I tried to put it to the back of my mind. We were going to India, and I wanted that to be a special time for us.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

John panicked at the accumulating threats from the Princess of Darkness. That was when he decided to go to India with Cynthia to put some distance between himself and Yoko. If he stayed away long enough, he could hope Yoko would just go away. Maybe she’d go back to America, or vanish in a puff of smoke. Her scissors act might go horribly wrong, or while she was bagged up one day the Royal Mail might frank the bag and deliver it to anywhere but India. Yes, a long trip to the ashram, where he could meditate and learn how to be calm and in control, give up drugs and spend romantic moments with Cynthia and glue his crumbling marriage back together, seemed opportune.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

“I don’t like the unhappiness she [Yoko] caused. She was horrible. John wanted to avoid her at first. He said, ‘Get rid of the bloody woman!’ But after India, he saw her differently — perhaps filtered through an exotic mindset.”

Tony Bramwell - the band’s ex-road manager

During

“The pressure of being the Beatles had driven a wedge between them individually and that had all percolated in the months leading up to their visit to Rishikesh,” he said. “Once they got there, and they unburdened themselves from all of that, they reconnected with their songwriting and their creativity. It just flowed forth.”

Bob Spitz to the New York Times

 “I was in a room for five days meditating,” said Lennon in The Beatles Anthology. “I wrote hundreds of songs. I couldn’t sleep and I was hallucinating like crazy, having dreams where you could smell. I’d do a few hours and they you’d trip off, three- or four-hour stretches. It was just a way of getting there, and you could go on amazing trips.” Cynthia Lennon said in Bob Spitz’s book The Beatles that for John, nothing else mattered when it came to mediation, adding “John and George were [finally] in their element [at the ashram]. They threw themselves totally into the Maharishi’s teachings, were happy, relaxed and above all found a piece of mind that had been denied them for so long.”

The Beatles in India: 16 Things You Didn’t Know

I was right in the Maharishi’s camp writing “I wanna die” you know. I’m So Tired and Yer Blues where they were pretty sort of realistic, you know, they were about me

Lennon Remembers

Ob-La-Di, Ob-La-Da was born on the steps of one of the low slung cottages where the entourage lived. One day, remembers Saltzman, he was passing by the cottage when he saw Lennon and McCartney sitting on the front steps and strumming the tune on their acoustic guitars. He ran back, picked up the camera and took pictures of the two with a pensive-looking Starr sitting on the side, from outside a wicket gate. Saltzman remembers the two were singing the first two lines of the song "over and over again, going fast and slow, having fun". "That's the riff we have," McCartney told Saltzman, "but no words yet".

filmmaker Paul Saltzman

Jenny Boyd, Patti’s sister “I sat with John a lot, since he didn’t feel well, either from terrible jet lag, and insomnia. He would stay up late; unable to sleep, and write the songs that would later appear on The Beatles’ White Album. When I was at my lowest, he made a drawing of a turbaned Sikh genie holding a big snake and intoning, ‘By the power within, and the power without, I cast your tonsil lighthouse out!’ Sometimes, late at night, I can still hear John singing those sad songs he wrote during those evenings, like ‘I’m So Tired.’”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

John “I went to the Maharishi and, regardless of what I was supposed to be doing, I did write some of my best songs while I was there. It was a nice scene. Nice and secure and everybody was always smiling. The experience was worth it if only for the songs that came out. It could have been the desert or Ben Nevis. The funny thing about the Maharishi camp was that, although it was very beautiful and I was meditating about eight hours a day, I was writing the most miserable songs on earth, like ‘I’m So Tired’ and ‘Yer Blues.’”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

Meanwhile, I was not having the second honeymoon I'd hoped for. John was becoming increasingly cold and aloof towards me. He would get up early and leave our room. He spoke to me very little, and after a week or two he announced that he wanted to move into a separate room to give himself more space. From then on he virtually ignored me, both in private and in public. If the others noticed they didn't say so. I did my best to understand, begging him to explain what was wrong. He fobbed me off, telling me that it was just the effect of the meditation. 'I can't feel normal doing all this stuff,' He said. 'I'm trying to get myself together. It's nothing to do with you. Give me a break.' What I didn't know was that each morning he rushed down to the post office to see if he had a letter from Yoko. She was writing to him almost daily. When I learnt this later I felt very hurt.

John (Cynthia Lennon)

And because the Beatles didn’t know anything about ashrams and they haven’t seen anything before because they went for Maharishi, not for the ashram. Maharishi didn’t allow men to stay with their wives. John was delighted with the idea. He loved it, actually. I think it made Cynthia very unhappy. She wanted to stay with John, everybody had his own problems. My great interest was with John. I was very happy because I found John much healthier. The color in his face was different and he was happier and he took the whole thing very seriously, and he was trying hard and he was so excited when I arrived because perhaps I was part of the reason he was there.

Magic Alex in All You Need Is Love – Peter Brown & Steven Gaines

We all went through a depression after Maharishi and Brian died; it wasn’t really to do with Maharishi, it was just that period. I was really going through the “What’s it all about?” type thing – this songwriting is nothing, it’s pointless, and I’m no good, I’m not talented, and I’m shitty, and I couldn’t do anything but be a Beatle. What am I going to do about it? It lasted nearly two years and I was still in it during Pepper. I know Paul wasn’t at the time; he was feeling full of confidence, and I was going through murder during those periods. I was just about coming out of it around Maharishi, even though Brian had died – that knocked us back again. Well, it knocked me back.

John Lennon, interview w/ Barry Miles, (partially) unpublished. (September 23rd, 1969)

By spending two months in deep meditation in India, John brought his deepest problems to the surface but he was unable to resolve them: the contradiction between his family life and his life as a rock star with all the drugs and groupies was too great. Had he stayed with the Maharishi until the end of the course, he might have avoided some of the pain, but by terminating the instruction abruptly, he was left hanging in thin air. During the weeks at the camp, he had been receiving daily letters from Yoko, though nothing sexual had yet happened between them. He was very attracted by her but he felt tremendous guilt about breaking up his marriage: doing to Julian what his own parents had done to him, repeating the pattern.

Many Years From Now - Barry Miles

He [Mick Jagger] told me with amusement that the real reason why the Beatles left the Maharishi was that he made a pass at one of them: “They’re simple north-country lads; they’re terribly uptight about all that.” Am still not sure if I believe this story.

“The Sixties,” the second volume of Christopher Isherwood’s diaries

After

And I was slowly putting myself together after Maharishi, bit by bit over a two year period. I destroyed me ego and I didn’t believe I could do anything. I let Paul do what he want and say, them all of them do what they want, I was just nothing, I was shit. And then Derek tripped me out at his house after he got back from LA, and he sort of said you’re all right and pointed out which songs I’d written, and ‘you wrote this and you said this, you are intelligent, don’t be frightened’. And then next week I went down with Yoko and tripped out again and she filled me completely to realize I was me and it was alright.

Lennon Remembers

So much had changed since I’d last seen the Beatles just a few months previously. They had come back from their trip to India completely different people. They had once been fastidious and fashionable; now they were scruffy and unkempt. They had once been witty and full of humor; now they were solemn and prickly. They had once been bonded together as lifelong friends; now they resented one another’s company. They had once been lighthearted and fun to be around. Now they were angry.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

The rage that was bubbling inside John was the most obvious sign that something was seriously wrong. There was new tension between John and Paul, and even between John and Ringo, in addition to the often strained relationship that Paul had with George and the resentment that Ringo sometimes exhibited when Paul coached him too much on drum parts. In fact, the only two Beatles who seemed to get along during the White Album sessions were John and George. Perhaps that came from the experience they had shared at the ashram—after all, they were the two who had stuck it out, staying on long after Ringo and Paul had gone back home. Maybe they felt deserted by their bandmates, or betrayed. The undercurrents between the four Beatles were so complex at that point, it gave me a headache just thinking about it.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

Our first night back in the studio began, as usual, with small talk and catching up. “So how was India?” I asked. “India was okay, I guess… apart from that nasty little Maharishi,” John replied, venomously. Harrison looked deflated, as if it were a conversation they’d had many times before. With a deep sigh, he tried to calm his agitated bandmate. “Oh come on, he wasn’t that bad,” he interjected, earning a withering glance. Lennon’s bitterness and anger seemed almost palpable. Ringo tried deflecting things with a little humor. “It reminded me of a Butlins holiday camp, only the bloody food wasn’t as good,” he said with a wink. I glanced in Paul’s direction. He was staring straight ahead, expressionless and weary. He didn’t have much to say about India that day, or any other. I sensed at that moment that something fundamental in them had changed. They were searching for something, but they didn’t know quite what it was; they had journeyed to India looking for answers, and they were disappointed that they hadn’t found them there… but it seemed to me that they didn’t even know the questions.

Here, There and Everywhere - Geoff Emerick, Howard Massey

“By all accounts, John had hit an all-time low [after India]. “John was in a rage because God had forsaken him,” George recalled. “Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.” According to Pete Shotton, who was spending time with John at Weybridge, there was an overriding feeling of humiliation—from the Maharishi, from the Apple Boutique shambles, from his deteriorating marriage, from what he felt was his shrinking position in the Beatles. “He was more fucked up than I’d even seen him,” Shotton remembers. “It seemed like everything was going to the dogs. He’d been desperately grasping [at] straws, as far as I was concerned, and there wasn’t even a straw there.”

the beatles: the biography, bob spitz

JOHN: How can two women split up four strong men? It’s impossible. You know, The Beatles were disintegrating slowly after Brian Epstein died, it was a slow death, and it was happening. It was evident in Let It Be – uh, although Linda and Yoko were evident then, but they weren’t when it started, I don’t think. It was evident in – in India, when George and I stayed there and Paul and Ringo left.

October, 1971 (St Regis Hotel, New York)

There was little need for me to repeat my instructions. As soon as we got there, it was obvious that things were not hunky-dory with the Beatles. Their recent month-long meditation retreat with the Maharishi didn’t seem to have helped their relationships very much, and the estrangement was definitely having an effect on their work. I don’t think any actual recording got done that night. Paul, George and Ringo were rehearsing some new songs, trying different ways of playing and singing them. Meanwhile, John spent most of his time sitting on the floor next to Yoko, chatting privately with her as she stroked his hair. He seemed no more involved in the proceedings than me and Lawrence, who watched the uncomfortable tension building from the other side of the studio. “Hey John.” Paul turned around to face him at one point. “Are you in this band or what?”

Leslie Cavendish, The Cutting Edge: The Story of the Beatles’ Hairdresser Who Defined an Era

Back at Kenwood John continued to be distant towards me. Now that we were away from the others and the charms of India, I felt increasingly afraid and depressed. John and I were back in the same bed, but the warmth and passion we had shared for so long were absent. John seemed barely to notice me. He was little better with Julian and was more likely to snap at him than give him a hug. There was just one moment of real warmth between us and that was, ironically, when John confessed to me that he had been unfaithful. We were in the kitchen when he said, out of the blue, 'There have been other women, you know, Cyn.'

John (Cynthia Lennon)

On the flight back from India, he had gotten very drunk and, for some reason, decided to confess all his affairs to Cynthia. Brutally, he ticked off a very long list, which included groupies, models, prostitutes, the wives and girlfriends of his and Cynthia’s friends and, possibly cruelest of all, Cynthia’s own girlfriends. Cynthia felt totally betrayed.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

The shattering of his faith in the Maharishi, meanwhile, had left John spiritually adrift once more; his instinctive response was to return with a vengeance to his former drug habits. (Like the other Beatles, John had totally abstained from alcohol and drugs while in India.) In retrospect, it's easy to see how wide open John was, at this particular juncture, to anything—or anybody—that might conceivably lift him out of his rut.

The Beatles, Lennon, and me - Pete Shotton

PAUL: I gave myself a set period, and then if it was gonna be something we really had to go back for, I was thinking of going back. But at the end of my month I was quite happy and I thought… this’ll do me. This is fine. If I want to get into it heavy, I can do it anywhere. That’s one of the nice things about it, you don’t have to go to church to do it, you can do it in your own room. So I was quite happy.

RINGO: I left just a little disillusioned, and John was a little disillusioned when he came back, and Paul was. [pause] George just loved it.

1993 rough cut of the Anthology series

Although Paul was the first to leave [India] disillusioned, John left in the mind of, ‘OK, well, we tried, we surrendered to God but it wasn’t God, it was Maharishi and this God thing is proving itself to be a total fallacy’ - and then went back to being The Beatles.

I left Rishikesh with John. Alex [Madras] had been the naughty boy who’d stirred everything up. John went in a rage because God had forsaken him (although it was nothing to do with God, really). Then he went and completely reversed himself. He turned from being positive to being totally negative.

I went to South India […] and everything that happened to me went wrong to the point that I felt, like John and Alex, that the Maharishi had put the heeby-jeebies in me.

George Harrison, c/o Derek Taylor, Fifty Years Adrift. (1984)

JOHN: I’ve got no regrets at all, ‘cause it was a groove and I had some great experiences meditating eight hours a day—some amazing things, some amazing trips— it was great. And I still meditate off and on. George is doing it regularly. And I believe implicitly in the whole bit. It’s just that it’s difficult to continue it. I lost the rosy glasses. And I’m like that. I’m very idealistic. So I can’t really manage my exercises when I’ve lost that. I mean, I don’t want to be a boxer so much. It’s just that a few things happened, or didn’t happen. I don’t know, but something happened. It was sort of like a click and we just left and I don’t know what went on. It’s too near—I don’t really know what happened.

John Lennon, interview w/ Jonathan Cott for Rolling Stone: The first Rolling Stone interview. (November 23rd, 1968)

Cynthia Lennon “John had taken acid once more and enthused, ‘Cyn, it was great. Christ Cyn, we’ve got to have lots more children. We’ve got to have a big family around us.’ At this point, I burst into tears … All I could blurt out was that, in no way, could I see us as he did. I was so disturbed by John’s outburst, that I even suggested that Yoko Ono was the woman for him. John protested at my crazy suggestion and suggested that I was being ridiculous. Although life went on as usual, my fears grew and I felt nervous and depressed. John was aware of my depression and suggested that, as he had to work for long hours in the recording studios for a few weeks, I should accompany Jenny, Donovan, Gyspy and Alexis on a holiday to Greece. The very thought of sun and sea really brightened my outlook.”

The Beatles Off the Record (Keith Badman)

During the spring of 1968, John was as confused, lonely, and unhappy as I'd seen him in years. Though his relationship with the other Beatles was still free of serious strain, he was seeing increasingly less of Paul and George, both of whom were now pursuing independent lives and interests of their own.

In My Life, Pete Shotton

The resentment might have been coming from a different place. With his marital problems still unsettled and Cynthia gallivanting around Greece, drugs continued to govern John’s fitful moods. He dosed himself continuously with LSD, tweaking its random effect with any spare pills he happened to find lying around the house. In the right company, it plunged John into a deep, unfathomable trance that altered between indecipherable rambling and deadpan silences. At Weybridge, into which Pete Shotton had moved in order to keep his friend company, he stayed up nights, tripping and battling wave after wave of incendiary rage. One night, after the usual snack of hallucinogens, Shotton says he noticed John moving his arms around very slowly in a circle. “I said, ‘What are you doing?’ ” recalls Pete, “but John couldn’t explain it. He said, ‘I can’t stop. There’s something making me do this. I can’t help myself.’ ” Tears followed, uncontrollable rivers of tears, intermingled with hideous laughter. When Shotton tried to comfort him, John resisted. “I’m not crying,” he insisted peevishly, wiping his eyes with the back of a hand. Suddenly John declared that he was Jesus Christ, back from the grave. “He was convinced of it,” Pete recalls, “saying… ‘This is it, at last—I know who I am.’ ” The next day the Messiah convened an emergency meeting at Apple to announce his identity to the other Beatles. Unimpressed, they said: “Yeah, all right then. What shall we do now?” After someone suggested lunch, the matter was dropped.

That night at Weybridge, in the middle of another drug-induced reverie, the TV flickered off, whereupon John, already chastened and in a self-abasing mood, asked Pete if it was okay if he invited a woman to the house. Shotton, who had no intention of staying up another night with his friend, was relieved. “Well, I think I’ll call up Yoko,” John said.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

What happened that night can only be left to the imagination, but since it patently wasn’t the coming together of two virgins for the very first time, did Yoko do her hypnotism thing, as some of John’s friends thought she had, or did she have a powerful new drug in her arsenal? Nobody really believed that John fell in love overnight, because why hadn’t he done so before? He’d been kicking Yoko in and out of his life for over a year. Mostly, he had given the impression that he resented and despised her. So it must have been something pretty potent that made John fall headlong out of his casual affair with her into a mad obsession. Perhaps it was that he really was mentally ill and like many schizoid personalities, got religious mania. If he really did believe that he was Jesus, Yoko would probably have convinced him she was the Virgin Mary. A virgin at any rate. John was shortly to tell the world that they spent the night at the top of the house in his bloodred music room, recording the Two Virgins tape. They say that a moose in heat can waken the dead and achieve the impossible with his bellows. John and Yoko spent the night screaming.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

Whatever her reasoning, Cynthia remained determined to see the marriage through [after finding John and Yoko together]. Convinced that John still needed her, she returned to Kenwood, mollified by his apparent denial that anything improper had occurred. “For a while, everything was wonderful,” she recalled. “We could speak more openly and honestly with each other, and there really was a glimmer of light at the end of the tunnel.”

But the tunnel was short, and the light soon faded. Within weeks their life together had disintegrated into a revolving state of solicitude and withdrawal, resignation and despondence. Following a stretch when John became disturbingly incommunicative, Cynthia packed once again, escaping on still another vacation to Pesaro, Italy, with her mother, Julian, and a favorite aunt and uncle.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

No sooner were they back from India, than Jane returned to her work at the Bristol Old Vic, and Paul launched into what was probably the most relaxed time of his life. He opened wide the doors of Cavendish Avenue and the groupies, who had camped as faithfully outside as they had in Wimpole Street during the years that Paul had lived there with the Asher family, were astonished to find they were now invited in. Not only were they invited into the house, but also into Paul’s bed. Whenever I went up to see Paul, the house was filled with giggling, half-naked girls, cooking meals, walking Martha, or glued to the phone for hours on end, calling the world.

Magical Mystery Tours My Life with The Beatles by Tony Bramwell

It came as a welcome relief that John and Paul, along with Neil Aspinall, planned a quick trip to New York on May 11, where several press events had been scheduled to announce Apple Records in the States. Friends agreed that getting John away might do him a world of good; being alone, with just Paul to steady him, might have a calming influence. But Paul was grappling with his own set of anxieties. “We wanted a grand launch,” Paul said, “but I had a strange feeling and was very nervous.” Drugs, he later admitted, may have been at the root of his problem; there was a lot of dope-smoking before takeoff and even during the transatlantic flight. But Jane Asher also helped spike Paul’s mood. The grudging engagement between Beatle and actress had been ticklish at best. But since traveling together in India and a subsequent ten-day trip to Scotland, Jane’s eccentricities rankled. Paul was having serious second thoughts about the relationship, which had reached a kind of critical, now-or-never stage.

Between John’s attitude and Paul’s paranoia, the Beatles were a PR nightmare. “It was a mad, bad week in New York,” recalled Derek Taylor, who met the two Beatles there to chaperone a round of press conferences, followed by interviews. Taylor had fashioned himself into a debonair drug aficionado since the Beatles first dosed him at Brian Epstein’s housewarming party, and now he and John gorged themselves on speed and a “mild and extremely benign hallucinogen” called Purple Holiday, courtesy of their New York chauffeur. The effect of it came through in the interviews. John was gallingly withdrawn and dismissive, Paul unusually distracted—which made them come off as two rich, snooty rock stars peddling another product.

The Beatles – Bob Spitz

+ a couple of extra things

A quick timeline

December 25 Paul and Jane announced that they were engaged to be married.

February 15 George, Patti, John and Cynthia flew from London Airport to India.

February 19 Paul, Jane, Ringo and Maureen flew from London Airport to India.

March 26 Paul, Jane and Neil Aspinall flew back to England from Rishikesh, leaving George and Patti, John and Cynthia and “Magic” Alex who had come out to join them.

April 12 John and Cynthia, George and Patti and “Magic” Alex left in a hurry from Rishikesh, India, after “Magic” Alex convinced John and George that the Maharishi was using his position to gain sexual favours from at least one of the female meditators.

May 11 John and Paul, accompanied by “Magic” Alex, Neil Aspinall, Mal Evans, Ron Kass and Derek Taylor, flew to New York to launch Apple in the US.

May 15 Accompanied by Linda, Nat Weiss drove John, Paul and “Magic” Alex to the airport for their flight back to London.

May 19 With Cynthia taking a short holiday, John called Yoko Ono and invited her out to Kenwood. They made a random sound tape, which was later issued as Two Virgins with the notorious sleeve showing them both naked.

May 26 Cynthia returned home from a brief holiday in Greece, to discover Yoko Ono in residence with John.

May 31 Abbey Road. The White Album sessions. Work continued on ‘Revolution 1’ and the last six minutes was removed to form the basis of the chaotic ‘Revolution 9’. Yoko screamed on the track, her first appearance on a Beatles recording.

June 4 Paul began seeing Francie Schwartz.

June 22-23 On this day Paul McCartney addressed a sales conference attended by executives from Capitol Records, where he announced that all future Beatles records would be released through the group’s Apple Records label. The day after they fell in love in Los Angeles, Paul McCartney and Linda Eastman spent much of the day together at the Beverly Hills Hotel, where he was staying as part of an Apple promotional trip.

July 20 Jane Asher, appearing on Simon Dee’s BBC Television show Dee Time, said that her engagement to Paul was off – but that it was not she that had broken it. She told Dee that they had been engaged for seven months, after knowing each other for five years. (She had arrived back at Cavendish Avenue one day to find Paul in bed with a girl named Francie Schwartz.)

The Beatles Diary Volume 1 The Beatles Years (Barry Miles) & https://www.beatlesbible.com/

A comment from Heydullblog, which I find interesting and think sums up how insufficient & unsatisfying most explanations are for how John changed during this period:

Michael Gerber November 25, 2021 at 4:31 pm

What, in all that, makes you HATE Cyn, and divorce her in the most abrupt and vicious way, even attempting to get her to commit adultery so you can give her (and your own son) as little as possible? Why not a quick and amiable divorce from a woman who, let’s be honest, knew she was getting cheated on pretty constantly since 1961.

What, in all that, makes you HATE Paul McCartney, who has been your closest professional collaborator since 1957, and engage in a five-year campaign to smear and demean him in the press? Why do you insist your millions of fans choose you or him? Why not simply pause the group, and everybody goes solo and remains friends, as was predicted at the end of touring?

What makes you DETERMINED to bust up your rock group, the most popular group in the world, the source of all your fame, money, and power?

What makes you pick Yoko Ono IN PARTICULAR out of all the groupies, hangers-on, and even sensible appropriate partners within your current circle? Eighteen months ago you were attracted to Maureen Cleave, Sonny Freeman, Alma Cogan, etc — pretty much the type of women you always picked — but now, you pick a conceptual artist offering total submersion into someone else’s ego?

And what makes you spend the rest of your life pretending all this was the greatest thing ever, the fullest flowering of your genius?

It’s not that John Lennon looked around at his life in early 1968 and thought, “I don’t want this anymore. This isn’t for me.” It’s that he lashed out incredibly fiercely, in every direction, made no distinction between friend and foe, demonstrated a huge amount of resentment and bitterness towards the very people who it would seem had helped him the most, and spent literally the rest of his short life at least arguably LESS happy than he’d been before. He didn’t dump his wife for the nanny and live happily ever after; he started a process of picking things up and throwing them away with great force that, if he’d been that way in 1957, would’ve kept any of his genius from ever emerging.

He changed, fundamentally, in a short time. Why?

Midlife crises happen, they are to be expected, but this one gets more singular the more you look at it. And the thing about post-India Lennon is how he’s no more happy, no more productive, no more self-aware, no more comfortable in his own skin, than pre-India Lennon. What does the guy in August 1980 have to be angry about? Really? It was only after I reached middle-age and went through my own version of crisis (crises) that I thought, “How strange.”

[rose-tea-and-strawberries]

Twisted Wonderland Characters Signing Your Shirt

So when I was in primary school, on the very last day of term, the year 6 leavers would sign each other's white school polo shirts with felt tips as a sort of parting gift before we all went our separate ways to secondary school. I thought it might be cool if the reader shared this tradition with her friends at NRC.

Warning: I write reader as female

I literally had no idea what to write for bat grandpa and Silver so I just didn’t write them. In return, I’ll add snippets of Trein, Crewel, Vargas and Sam

Word Count: 8k+

Masterlist

Despite the comfort you felt with your friends in Twisted Wonderland and the obvious collective effort that your fellow students showed in making you feel at home in this strange new world, sometimes it did strike you just how different your current abode was - well, barring the universal use of magic that was so common that even infants were capable of it, of course. Such instances when your geographical displacement was most apparent was when you were reminded that there seemed to be little to no shared holidays between your world and this. For example, whilst Halloween did exist here, the concept of Christmas, Easter and Valentine’s Day didn’t - and neither did Mother’s or Father’s Day or even the smaller holidays like International Best Friends’ Day. It made you wonder if this world had any holidays or traditions that yours didn’t. This exact conversation starter was how you found yourself sitting cross legged on the floor of Ramshackle with your fellow first year friends as you all discussed different traditions that you’ve all partaken in (when in fact you were supposed to be using this timeframe to be studying for an upcoming assessment). 

“You know,” you mused out loud, “my primary school had this tradition where on the very last day, all of the leavers would sign each others’ shirts.”

“Really?” Deuce looked at you with sparkling wide eyes, and leaned forward slightly, as if he was hanging onto every word you said and was careful that he would miss a single syllable that came out of your mouth despite sitting less than two feet away from you.

“Yep. It was basically as a parting momentum we’d give each other to show our support even if we are parting ways and may never see each other again. I still have mine hanging in my wardrobe at home. By the end of the day, it was covered in so many felt tip marks that it was more colourful than white,” you gave a nostalgic smile at the memory of your eleven year old self being surrounded by your laughing and tearful classmates as they decorated each other’s polo shirts (and even some a lot of skin) with well wishes, signatures and drawings that were partly sweet, partly adoringly offensive and partly completely random and out there that you had no idea of what to make of them. It did make you wonder how they were currently doing and then it hit you - you had no way of knowing. Atleast back home, whenever you found yourself revisiting your younger years, you had the ability of picking up your phone and finding out for yourself. But here - here in this world where your friends and family didn’t exist, where your life had about as much substance as a black hole until that fateful day you appeared in front of that dark mirror - you had absolutely no way of connecting to anyone you once knew. You didn’t even have any pictures or mementos from your world to remind yourself that they were even real to begin with. How long would you be able to cling on to your memories and -

“Y/N,” Jack's voice pierced through the blurry memories as sharply and swiftly as Rook’s arrow, shattering every thought like glass and every fragment of them fell and dissolved into nothing until you found yourself out of your head and sitting in your dorm’s living room floor with Grim on your lap and your friends nearby. His face contorted with concern the second he noticed your smile going from fond to bittersweet, “are you okay?”

Were you?

“I-”

“Why don’t we do that?” Epel blurted out.

You looked at him in confusion as Jack and Deuce glared at him for his interruption (but, honestly, you were very grateful for that), tilting your head to the side, “huh?”

“The-the shirt signing thing. I never did it when I left elementary. It sounds like fun?” he looked at the other boys, “whatdya fellas think?”

“I’m in,” Ace stretched out his arms.

“Me too,” Deuce said immediately after, sitting up a little straighter.

“I’ll-I’ll join in as well,” Jack stuttered out, “just ‘cause you guys are. Not-not because it sounds fun or anything, alright.”

“Hmm,” Sebek scoffed, crossing his arms and looking down on the rest of the group with an expression that says ‘I’m very much interested but I’m not going to say that because I’m a tsundere who pledges allegiance to my large commissioned portrait of Waka-sama every morning’, “I suppose these human customs seem adequate enough for me to partake in them. If at least to ensure that you do not tread on a path that could cause a disturbance to Lord Malleus, as is my duty as his knight.”

Ace rolled his eyes, “sure, pal.”

“Everyone wait,” Grim yelled out, “I should go first. As Y/N is my minion, she should receive the honour of getting The Great Grim’s mark first.”

When Ace and Deuce looked like they were about to argue, you silenced them with an, “alright, Grim, you can go first.”

GRIM

Since he’s so small, he couldn’t really reach that high, even though you were sitting down

He signed ‘to my favourite minion, from the great grim. P.S buy me more tuna’ at the bottom of your shirt near the hem of your shirt

He added a little simple drawing of a fish and a doodle of a small tin of tuna next to his words

Since he didn’t wear any clothes, you signed your own name with a cute little heart on the dangly end of the ribbon that made up the bow around his neck.

ACE TRAPPOLA

He and Deuce played rock, paper, scissors to decide who should go next

He had to be reminded by everyone not to write anything too big

“That means that I can barely write anything. You’re so short and small that half a sentence would take up half of your shirt,” he snarks with a teasing grin.

Deuce hit him over the head with an unimpressed look for that one

Good boy, Deuce

He uses one of his red pens to sign ‘your best friend and favourite person in the whole world who you like more than Deuce, Ace Trappola’ with a smiley face and a doodle of the ace of hearts card under under your collar, near your chest area before surveying his masterpiece and looking up at you with a smug wink

Deuce, hit him again

You signed your own name on his collar with a heart next to it

“A heart?” he wiggled his eyebrows at you, “are you trying to tell me something, prefect?”

DEUCE!

DEUCE SPADE

Baby boy is so scared

He’s so worried that he’ll ruin your shirt with something you won’t like that his hands are shaking

Protect him

After you reassure him that you’ll love whatever he does (Ace: not as much as mine, though 😏) he nods, eyes burning with determination as he braves himself and picks up a dark blue biro

He slowly and steadily writes out, in his neatest handwriting ‘you’re my best friend and I can’t imagine NRC without you. You always make me happy, Deuce Spade” with a little coloured-in spade doodle next to his name on the stomach part of your shirt (because the mere notion of idea of going any higher made his head spin and face burn)

The entire time he was diligently writing, he was looking at his handiwork with the most concentrated expression you had seen, with his eyebrows furrowed with great attention and care whilst his tongue stuck out slightly from between his teeth

He does know that this is supposed to be a fun little activity, right? He knows that he’s not signing his last will and testament (of course he does. In his mind, this was way more important)

“That’s great, Deuce. I love it.” you smiled softly at him when he finished

He perks up at the praise before blushing and looked down, his pink face conveying how bashfully pleased he was that he didn’t mess up

He’s so going to tell his mother about this during their nightly phone calls

“Thank you, Y/N,” he shyly smiles back at you

You place your own signature on his shirt as he looks on at you with still pink cheeks

You beam at him after punctuating your name with a small little hear

“You didn’t say anything about miiinnee ~”

FOR GOD’S SAKE, ACE-

JACK HOWL

No, his tail is most definitely not wagging in excitement when he approaches you with a gel pen in hand so shut up

No one said a word, wolfy

Writes a swift ‘keep up the good work. Jack Howl’

A simple wolf, our Jack is

Please ignore the red blossoming along his cheeks and nose and the still wagging tail as he doodles a little cactus next to his name

You give him a smile as you sign your own name on his shirt and add a little smiley face next to it

You can still see some red peeking out from under his hand as he covers the lower half of his face with his palm, his tail wagging like crazy 

You swear that you can hear a faint little “thank you”

EPEL FELMIER

“Hell, yeah! Move aside, losers, it’s my turn!”

*coughs and clears throat* “ahem, I mean - it’s my turn to sign your shirt, prefect.”

Uses his dark purple gel pen to sign his name and draws an apple next to it

Pretends that he isn’t elated to see your name on his shirt

Is planning to proudly wear that shirt to Vil’s etiquette lessons, propriety be damned

Is also whooping and punching the air the second he’s out of sight

SEBEK ZIGVOLT

He strides towards you all stiff and square-shouldered

Signs ‘Sebek Zigvolt, loyal knight and retainer of His Glorious Majesty Lord Malleus, the beloved and awe-inspiring fae prince of the noble kingdom of Briar Valley. It is he who I pledge my eternal loyalty and allegiance to and it is my greatest honour to die in his name.”

You had to stop him from writing a whole essay on your shirt (complete with book references) about the might of the esteemed prince who you once found sulking in the woods because Lilia ate all of his ice cream during a Call of Duty session with Idia

He loudly explains to you that it is of poor taste to allow a human to sully the uniform of the great Waka-sama’s dorm as it is unheard of for a knight to appear as anything less of perfection as his attire reflects the power of his future king-

Uh, alright crocodile boy but why are you leaning closer to me?

You sign your name really small on his shirt so that it’s not immediately visible and only those who know where it is find it.

He doesn’t know why his heart is beating much faster at the sight of this magicless human’s name. Clearly he has contracted an illness. Quick, he must go to Lilia at once and remedy the issue lest Lord Malleus finds out.

CATER DIAMOND

Once you bid your friends farewell, you, Grim, Ace and Deuce, make your way to Heartslabyul for that afternoon’s unbirthday party

The students were still setting up the tables and food in the rose garden so the dorm leader and vice dorm leader weren’t present

Cater senses the four of you approaching as he finishes painting the last of the roses red and his eyes immediately dart to your shirt

“Hey, Y/N-chan. What’s with the get-up?”

You explain how it’s a tradition in your world to sign each other’s shirts and how your friends wanted to do it for themselves

“Aww, no fair,” he pouts at you, “Cay-kun wants to join in on the fun too.”

You offer him a pen, “you’re more than welcome to add your signature, Cater-senpai.”

He grins at you and writes a funky ‘Cater Diamond’ with doodles of the cartoony smiling four diamonds on his phone case on your shirt. Underneath his name he adds his magicam and other social media usernames.

“Well, Y/N-chan?” he sing-songs, twirling the pen around with his index and middle fingers the same way a drummer would a drumstick, “what do you think?”

“I love it, Cater-senpai,” you reply happily

He joyfully pats your head, “anything for my favourite underclassman”

Ace and Deuce: we’re here too, you know 🧍🧍

“Now smile for the camera,” he chirps, holding out his phone to take a selfie of him gesturing towards the area of your shirt with his name on it 

After you quickly jot down your own name on his collar before running off to help with the party preparations, he takes a selfie of himself and then spends a bit more time gazing upon your smiling face on his screen before making a post

#HangingOutWithMyFavouriteUnderclassmen #ShesTheBest #WhenACuteGirlAsksYouToSignSomethingYouSignIt #SheLooksReallyPrettyWithMyNameOnHerThough #ImNeverWashingThisShirtAgain

TREY CLOVER

Comes out before Riddle to make sure that everything is set

And to see if you’re Ace and Deuce are here

Immediately notices the shirt and wants in on it

Uses one of his edible pens that he just happens to be carrying to write his name with a cupcake and clover drawn next to it

“Here you go, Y/N,” he says as he gives you the ‘I’m the responsible and reliable senpai even though you and I both very well know that I am capable of causing the most chaos here’ smile

Pats your head after you return the favour

RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS

You’re the first thing Riddle notices the moment he enters

Has to take a second to gather his bearings when he sees you smiling when you notice his arrival

At this point he’s gotten used to the teasing smile Cater shoots him when he’s in your proximity but that doesn’t mean he has to DO IT EVERY TIME HE’S GOT A REPUTATION

In Riddle’s head: Y/N’s here 😊 I must greet her with the grace every gentleman must have when they meet a lovely lady like her. Perhaps I should point out how wonderful it is for her to join us. Or personally escort her to a seat as I comment on how happy her presence here has made me.

What Riddle says: What has happened to your shirt 🤨

Don’t worry, Riddle. You tried your best

You apologetically tell him how it’s your fault since Ace and Deuce were trying to cheer you up and then Cater and Trey wanted to join them so you’ll take full responsibility if they broke any rules

“Well,” Riddle states primly, “there’s no rule forbidding it but bear in mind that I shall not accept you making a habit of unkempt attire. As Heartslabyul students and prefects both you and them are expected to possess a certain standard of decorum.”

“Does that decorum include personally fixing the prefect's tie in the middle of a busy public corridor in broad daylight?” Ace asks innocently

Riddle shoots him a sharp glare as he puffs up with anger

Before he can open his mouth, Trey swoops in to save Ace’s neck and Riddle’s vocal chords as he suggests that the unbirthday party should commence and then tells Cater to stop filming and put his phone down

The entire time you swear that you can feel someone gazing at you when you aren’t watching but every time to turn to look in Riddle’s direction, you notice that he’s looking elsewhere whilst Cater and Trey give each other knowing looks

When everyone has finished cleaning up afterwards, Riddle catches you and Grim on your way back and politely asks you if you could join him in the common room

You agree and set Grim down so he can trouble Ace and Deuce

When you get there he stiffly stammers something about wanting to know more about the shirt situation

How someone can be both poised and shy you have no idea but it’s adorably endearing

After you explained how it’s something friends do back in your world, he gets this contemplative look on his face as he looks down and twiddles his fingers before shyly asking if it would be alright if you permitted him to sign your shirt as well

Once you give an enthusiastic reply he gets out one of his fancy rich boy fountain pens and elegantly signs his name somewhere near your shoulder blades, his face burning the entire time

“If it’s alright with you, I could do the same back,” you offered, “I signed everyone else’s shirts but since you’re the dorm leader, I’d understand that it would be improper for me to-”

“No!” he blurts out, startling both you and himself. The red hue on his face gets even darker once he realised what he had just done and clears his throat before continuing in a tone that is much more controlled yet still a tad shaky, “no, I-I’d be honoured if you wanted to do so.”

So you take the pen he offered you from his outstretched hand and sign your name on his collar like you did the others

“Well, I’ll see you soon, Riddle-senpai. I hope you take care,” you smile at him before bowing your head slightly and walking out of the room to rescue Heartslabyul from whatever Grim had done

Riddle stared at the doorway from which you left from for a considerable amount of time before looking down at the hand where your fingers grazed his when you reached for the pen

He smiled slightly before shaking his head and composing himself. Then he marched out to supervise his dormmates

RUGGIE BUCCHI

This sneaky little hyena catches you during one of his errands 

He finds you on his way to deliver lunch to a certain lazy lion

Was about to pawn off the job to you but catches the names on your shirt before he hears a lightbulb go off in his head

“Shi shi shi. It seems like our prefect has been busy.”

Without even asking for an explanation, he asks if he could sign it

Throws in some hopeful puppy eyes to ensure you say yes

You don’t need to do that Ruggie. To quote my non-twst friend when I showed hyena boy’s picture to her: I would commit arson for you

Honestly he’s only doing this 60% because he wants to and 40% because he knows that it would annoy Leona

You hand him the pen you have been carrying and he scribbles on his name with a picture of a sprinkle covered doughnut next to it

He then asks you to do the same to him

You comply, noticing how his tails wags excitedly behind him

You then offer to bring Leona his lunch to give him a break, which he hastily agreed to 

After you leave he wonders if he could sell this shirt to one of your simps before immediately scrapping that idea since he decides it’s not worth it this time

LEONA KINGSCHOLAR

It took you a while to shake him ‘awake’

I say ‘awake’ in inverted commas because the second he hears footsteps in the botanic garden his ears perk up and he tries to determine if the scent from the incoming person is yours. If it is, he’s wide awake

But he’s also a jerk so he’s not going to make this easy for you

He’s internally smirking whenever he hears you’re irritated little huffs as you try to wake him up

The he considers that he should maybe throw you a bone so he opens his eyes only to see the names of your first year friends , those uptight Heartslabyul students and his own second in command on you

Something about that does not sit right with him and he has to fight back a possessive growl

At least he can’t see the names of that stuck up beauty queen and - god forbid - that stupid lizard

“You some to have something on you, Herbivore,” he drawls as he lazily flicks his eyes towards your face

Like you did to everyone else, to explain how it’s a thing in your world to sign your classmates’ shirts

At this he gets up, whilst maintaining eye contact, and takes one stride so that he’s right in front of you

Excuse me sir, we like to respect personal space here

Unless you’re a Twisted Wonderland character then no we don’t

“Does that mean you marked other people with your name?” he asks you with a tone that you can’t quite put your finger on but can definitely tell has hints of annoyance

You just look at him in silence, completely off guard by his proximity and out of the blue question

“Well?” he leans down closer to you

“Oh, um, yeah. I guess”

He just hums in reply before holding out his palm

You just look down at it before giving him a perplexed look

“Pen,” he says, “now.”

You place your pen in his hand before he immediately crouches down and writes ‘LEONA KINGSCHOLAR’ in block letters that seemed to be a bit larger than everyone else’s names

He holds out your pen, “your turn.”

“Oh, okay”

The minute you finish writing your name you he stands back up at his full height, green eyes gleaming with mirth

“You know, Herbivore,” he holds up your chin so you get a full view of his smirking face, “I can think of plenty of other ways I could mark my territory if you're ever up for it.”

He gives your head a pat, remarking “you know where to find me” before yawning and sauntering off to god knows where with one hand in the front pocket of his trousers and his tail swinging lazily behind him

…

You just blink at his retreating figure in confusion

“Oookaayy,” you drone out to yourself and then you make your way out of Savanaclaw as Grim mutters something about weird predators

JADE AND FLOYD LEECH

“KOEBI-CHAN! :D” 

Oh dear, it seems as if Floyd has found you for his daily accosting

You know that there is no way you can run from an eel so you just brace yourself with closed eyes as you hear the grunts, groans and shouts of several students being pushed out of the way as Floyd makes his way towards you for his completely necessary squeezing the life out of you hugging session

You open your eyes the second you feel those arms glomp you as you give the eel twin a smile, “hello, Floyd-senpai.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Jade casually strolling along the path that his brother had cleared with a pleasant smile on his face, completely ignoring the still groaning students on the corridor’s floor

“Good afternoon, dear prefect,” he greets you politely as you feel Floyds arms wrap tighter around your waist as he nuzzles his face into your neck, “I see that you’ve run into quite a few students on your way here - if your shirt is anything to go by.”

“Huh,” Floyd lets go of you and notices Riddle’s name at the back of your shirt. He then turns you around to inspect the front of your shirt only to be met with the names of all of these bottom feeders 

“Hey,” he pouts at you accusingly, crossing his arms in displeasure, “how come koebi-chan let goldfish and crabby and sea lion and all these other fish write all over her and not us. I wanna write on koebi-chan too.”

Jade gave a fond sigh at his brother’s whining before turning to you with a gentlemanly smile that barely concealed the grin of a predator, “I must say, dear prefect, I’ve got to agree with my brother here. It does seem very unfair for you to allow others to enjoy this event and not us. I feel rather hurt.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Floyd nods, “koebi-chan should let us write on her.”

“And what luck,” Jade piped up, taking a pen out of his pocket (though you had the strange suspicion that it was used less for writing and more for some weird torture technique that he and his brother liked to dish out), “it appears that I have a pen in my possession. Now, you will allow us to do so, right prefect?”

You knew for a fact that even if your brain decided to take a holiday and leave you to enter the boundless void of nothingness that inhabited your mental stability you would not even think to refuse him

“Alright then,” you said slowly and both of their faces lit up

“Me first, me first,” Floyd gleefully snatched the pen from his twin’s hand and bounded over to you, writing his name in big bold letters on your right sleeve. Underneath it he drew a picture of his eel form and a cartoony shrimp with arrows pointing towards both figures saying ‘ME!! :)’ AND “SHRIMPY!”

Jade then took the pen from his brother and wrote his own name on your left sleeve with a drawing of an anatomy correct shiitake mushroom under it. He then labeled different the different structures with their biologically correct scientific names

“Now write on us,” Floyd demanded, so you took Jade’s pen and did just that.

After he pocketed his pen, he turned to the other eel with a mischievous grin, “You know, Floyd. I believe Azul would love to see our dear prefect. What do you think?”

Floyd matched his brother’s expression with an even more unhinged one of his own, “yes, yes. Let’s go.”

And with that, the both of them each take a firm hold of each one of your shoulders and began to stir you to the Mostro Lounge, paying no attention to Grim, who was yelling at them about how it was his lunch time

AZUL ASHENGROTTO

Due to spending almost his entire life with the Leech twins, Azul was fairly accustomed to their antics - which was why he didn’t seem the least bit perturbed to the sound of the door to the VIP room slamming against the wall and Floyd’s cheerful voice loudly exclaiming “WE’RE HERE”. 

He just sighed and continued to finish the sentence he was writing before looking up to greet him when he did a double take when he sway you’re slightly embarrassed self give a small smile and wave from where Floyd had you rooted with the way his arm rested over your shoulders

“Ah yes, Floyd what is-PREFECT??!!”

No his voice did not crack at the end, thank you very much

Jade gracefully stepped into the room, “Azul, Floyd and I were just admiring the prefect’s shirt and thought that you would appreciate it if we brought her here to show you ourselves.”

“Yes, what Jade said,'' Floyd nodded happily, “Jade and I both wrote our names on koebi-chan as well, see. And she wrote on us. Isn’t that great?”

Despite clearing his throat, Azul’s voice still was choked when he let out a surprised, “yes, that does look rather nice.”

The four of you spent the next minute standing in awkward silence. The eels were directing their shark-like grins on a red and embarrassed-looking Azul who seemed to look completely stumped and you just stood there having no idea what to do

“Well,” you started when the silence got too much, “I’m so sorry for barging in on you like this Azul-senpai and interrupting your work. It seems like you are really busy in the middle of something important so I’ll just head back and-”

“Wait, prefect,” Azul pushed his glasses up his nose and made his way towards you with a pen in hand, “If-if you would allow me, I would love to add my name onto your shirt.”

“Go right ahead,” you reply

Now he’s written his name hundreds of times, with the business that he runs, but for some reason him signing his name directly onto the clothing that your wearing has his heart leaping and twisting in ways that he’s never felt before

He’s lying. He’s felt that many, many times before and strangely every instance has occurred in your presence

Once he’s finished he gives you a look that very clearly expresses that he wants to ask you something

“I could sign your shirt as well if that’s okay?” you half offered half asked, thinking you might know what he wanted

He gives you a shocked look, a rosy hue painting his nose and cheeks, before clearing his throat once more

“I can’t say that I would mind terribly if you did that. Of course,” he gives you his signature businessman octopus grin, “if you would much rather sign your name on a contract, I would be more than happy to oblige.”

“Yeah, no thank you,” you deadpan. You turn around, “if that’s it then-”

“Wait,” he grabs ahold of your wrist, “actually prefect, I would very much like that.”

Your face softens and you sign your name onto his collar and left the fish mafia to practice their Godfather impressions or whatever they did behind closed doors when they weren’t dealing with the poor unfortunate souls of NRC

Unbeknownst to you, Azul immediately changed out of that shirt and kept it next to his third draft of that marriage contract he had been preparing

KALIM AL-ASIM

It was after you left Octavinelle when you remembered that Kalim had invited you to a party at Scarabia so off to his dorm you went

Almost ten seconds after you enter, you hear a shout of “Y/N!” coming from above you

“God?” you mutter under your breath as you look up and find the resident sunshine boy of the campus beaming down at you from his magic carpet

You happily give them both a joyful and hearty wave, “HI KALIM-SENPAI! HI CARPET!”

The two of them descend towards you. Kalim jumps off when it reaches a few centimetres above the ground before tackling you into a hug that was filled with unbridled merriment. Carpet, feeling lonely, latched onto the both of you as well, wrapping its tassels around the two of you and squeezed in its own version of a hug.

The two of you laughed at its enthusiasm until it let go and Kalim pulled back

“Y/N, I’m so glad you’re here,” his smile filled with pure sunshine never once left nor faltered as he looked at you with all of the joy in the world, “you’re going to love it. Everyone’s dancing and Jamil made kunafah which is really really tasty and I’m sure you’ll enjoy it and we can go for a magic carpet ride as well and - woah, your shirt looks so cool!”

You giggle at his amazement, “thank you, Kalim-senpai. In my home world, it’s a tradition to sign your classmates’ shirts when you leave school so

“Wait, you’re not leaving are you?” he gives you the saddest tearful golden retriever puppy-eyed look you had ever seen and you instantly hated yourself for being the monster that caused it, “please say you’re not. We haven’t even done half of the things I wanted to do with you. Please don’t say you’re going.”

“No, no, no,” you wave your hand erratically to show that you were most certainly not leaving, “I swear that I’m not going anywhere, Kalim-senpai. I just mentioned that to everyone and they wanted to sign my shirt for fun, that’s all. I’m staying right here, pinky promise.”

Of course, you had no way of leaving this world, what with the headmaster being a lazy idiot who makes empty promises but you didn’t say a word about that part

Kalim smiled and intertwined his pinky with your outstretched one

(Meanwhile carpet sulked because he wanted to join in on the pinky promise but he had no pinkies to promise with)

“So,” he gives you a hopeful look, “does that mean that I can sign as well?”

“Of course you can,” you smile at him.

He beams back at you, holds your hand and scampers towards his room

After bringing you inside, he rummages through his drawers until he procures some limited edition ultra deluxe sparkly golden sharpie pen that you know costs like enough to feed you for a week

He skips back towards you and signs ‘KALIM!’ all big and glittery on your back with a bunch of stars and hearts surrounding it and a smiley face to dot the exclamation mark

He then giddily hands you the pen and asks you to sign his clothes as well

You hesitate because there is no way that you are going to stain a piece of clothing that has enough zeros in its price to pay for your entire neighbourhood back home

But his hopeful/pleading face was too much for you to refuse so you did as you were asked

He now wants to buy an entire store’s worth of clothes just so that the two of you could write your names all over them

He also is so happy that he wants throw another party in your honour and hopefully make an event of having the two of you sign each others clothes

Not going to lie, he’ll probably commission the best painters in the Scalding Sands to make a giant portrait of his shirt so that he can hang it up in his rooms (no that’s not a typo) and show it to his parents, his siblings, his aunts and uncles, his cousins, his pet elephants, his pet peacocks, that tiger he was going to ask for his birthday…

He just wants to keep the memory of this moment forever

“Woah, Y/N, that looks great! Hey, I have a bunch of other clothes in my wardrobe that you can sign, I’ll go get them-”

You had to stop him before he did something that would make Jamil pop a blood vessel or consider alcoholism (again) so you asked him if he could take you to where Jamil was

Thankfully, he agreed and happily lead you to the kitchens

JAMIL VIPER

Jamil had no idea what to feel when Kalim barged into the kitchens

On the one hand, the Scarabia kitchens were his safe haven, the one place where he could be alone without his airheaded master coming in to cause further trouble due to the fact that Kalim is forbidden from stepping foot in it so his annoyance at seeing that bright face in here was more than welcome

On the other hand, however, Kalim had brought you along. The diamond among the soiled charcoal that were his peers, the coolness of his eyes that never failed to put him at ease no matter how unreasonable Kalim’s never ending laundry list of problems became so he did admit that he felt much more relieved when he saw your smiling face pop in to say hello in that enchantingly sweet lilt

But then Kalim dragged you in and showed off all of the names that had been written on your shirt for that bitter python of annoyance that he keeps chained and shackled in his gut to start coiling around in displeasure - only for it to start hissing and biting at his stomach when Kalim happily pointed out his own name standing out on your back and your name on his shirt, it’s teeth sinking into every vein it can find and contaminating his bloodstream with that pungent envy

On the outside, he regarded all of this with the same cool and unwavering expression he usually wore but on the inside he was raging at how happily you wore everyone’s names - how you wore Kalim’s name - whilst casting him to the shadows.

He simply reminded Kalim that he was not allowed in the kitchens and he had a party to host so it was best for him to leave

Kalim turned to you and was about to ask you to come with him when you told him that you’ll stay and help Jamil and you promise to dance with him later

“Alright then Y/N, see you later,” and then he skipped away, a cloud of sparkles and flowers following him

You approached Jamil, who appeared to be a bit more tense than usual and placed your hand on his shoulder

He immediately stopped, took a breath and turned to you

“You know,” you smiled at him, “I didn’t just come here to help you cook, though I would very much like to.”

He raised an eyebrow at you, “is that so, prefect? Then pray tell, why did you come here.”

“Well, you see, all of my dear friends have decided to write their names on my shirt after I explained that it was a tradition where I’m from and now that I’m here, I realise that I’m one name short.”

“Is that true?” he mused, his lips twitching ever so slightly

You nodded with the gravitas of a judge giving a sentence, “yes, it is. And you see, Jamil-senpai, the person whose name that I’m talking about happens to be someone who would never go out of his way to do something that he thinks might not be wanted - even if the receiver would very much want it - so the idea of him offering his signature like everyone else seems to be out of the question.”

“What are you trying to say, prefect?” he sighed and put his head down so that he can hide his blush by pretending to rub his temples

“What I’m saying, Jamil-senpai, is that I would absolutely love it if you wrote your name on my shirt. It just doesn’t seem right without you and having you there would delight me to no end,” you reply, taking out the pen you’ve been carrying in your pocket and holding it out to him expectantly

‘How troublesome,’ he mentally sighs, though the thought was directed not towards you but to the pleasant feeling of warmth that enveloped him whenever you were near.

Regardless, he takes the pen and signs your shirt in a manner that appears to be annoyed and rushed but anyone can clearly see that the calligraphy of his name is definitely carefully thought out with strokes that look more like artwork than a teenage boy’s signature

“So, um,” you start, “you can say no if you’d like but would you like it if I signed yours back?”

He shrugged, “I see no reason why not?”

Don’t let his perpetually controlled voice fool you, he is internally punching the air and screaming with elation at the prospect to you placing your signature on him

Usually he would hate to have another's name anywhere near him. He was already cursed with the invisible shackles of the Al-Asim family, he didn’t want any other form of ownership to strip the miniscule amount of control he had in his life. However, the idea of him belonging to you only filled him with bliss instead of the accustomed disdain

‘Oh, prefect,’ he thought, internally smirking to himself as he continued with the preparations of Kalim’s feast with your assistance, ‘the next time you want me to leave my mark on you, I may not be as gentle.’

ROOK HUNT

You swear you take one step out of the mirror chamber and into the corridor before you find yourself face to face with Tamaki Suoh’s long lost cousin, who appeared out of frickin’ nowhere

“Petite mademoiselle trickster,” he cheers, “it has come to my attention that you are going around, letting the students write on your clothing and thus I must implore you to allow me the honour of joining them in this ceremonious ritual.”

Ritua - does he think that you’ve started a cult?!

Although, to be fair, that would be the least weirdest thing that’s happened in this school

You could’ve sworn you saw a bunch of Savanaclaw students standing in a circle and chanting so cultists are not completely out of line

And Crowley’s whole bird mask and making his students wear robes does seem very cult-y

Not to mention Sebek’s whole existence

Deciding to ignore the second part of Rook’s words (a standard procedure when it comes to students dealing with the huntsman) you hand him your pen

“Please allow me to write a sonnet so that I may pour out my awe at your splendorous beauty”

Yeah, you shut that one down hard

“Ah, I see. You’d much prefer a villanelle!”

No, Rook

A ballad or an Ode?

This is going to be another Sebek situation, isn’t it?

He did end up writing something

You must admit, you were impressed that he was able to conjure up a rhyming couplet dedicated to your beauty and general existence

In iambic pentameter no less

Now if only you could get him to stay still and quiet enough for you to write on your name

Great Seven, is he crying?

I’m flattered that there tears of joy but all I did was write my name on your shirt

I’m pretty sure my handwriting looked nicer on that contract that Leona turned to ash you really don’t need to praise the heavens for my existence 

Oh good, Vil-senpai, you’re here 

Your huntsman is broken

I know that he most probably came like this but it’s a bit unnerving

VIL SCHOENHEIT

Vil was strutting through the hallways like NRC was a pageant and his catwalk was going to be crowned as the winner when he noticed Rook singing (yes, actually singing) your praises to you whilst you just looked at him like most people do

“Rook,” he called sharply, his high heels clicking through the corridor and the back of his royal purple robe effortlessly flaring out behind him, “I have been looking all over for you.”

“Roi du Poison!” he called out, “I was just engaging in the most splendid tradition with Petite mademoiselle trickster!”

“Ah, yes, Epel mentioned this during his etiquette lesson,” he looked down at the piece of your shirt that he was pinching between his perfectly manicured index finger and thumb, “whilst I understand the sentiment, I cannot believe you would allow these undeserving potatoes to tarnish your appearance like this.”

He huffs and pulls out a pen from one of his own pockets, “thankfully, I come prepared for situations like these. Honestly, what would you do without me? Be grateful that I’m here to save you from these unruly spudlings.”

He then signs his name onto you with complete precision, most probably from his years of experience as a renowned actor

“Now it would be unfitting for me as the dorm leader of Pomefiore to walk amongst these halls with ink stains on my uniform but I have a suitable substitute for you to use so that the criteria for your traditions have been met,” and with that he pressed an apple scented soft handkerchief into your palms

“Well,” he looked at you expectantly, “aren’t you going to sign it?”

“Oh, um, yes,” and you wrote your name on this obviously very expensive piece of cloth

“Wonderful,” Vil gave you an approving smile and took his handkerchief back before briskly turning around and walking away, calling out for his vice, “Rook!”

“Coming Roi du Poison!”

ORTHO SHROUD

You made your way to Ignihyde for your regularly scheduled gaming/anime watching session with the otaku shut in of the school

But of course you couldn’t do that without saying hi to his younger brother because not greeting Ortho when you enter the dorm of the Lord of the Underworld is a crime worthy of death

“Big sister Y/N!'' is the first thing you hear when you step into Idia’s dorm. The adorable android with flaming blue hair greeted you with stone-melting giddiness, “my scanners informed me that you have arrived! That’s great news! Big brother has been waiting for you to join us all day! In fact, my sensors picked up that his heart rate increased by 15% everytime I or he mentioned you!”

You giggled and pet the little robot’s head, “that’s nice, Ortho. Say, would you like to sign my shirt? All of my other friends have written their names on it and I would be very happy if you did too.”

“Write my name on big sister’s shirt?” Ortho’s eyes widened and he clapped with glee, “yes, yes, I would love to. Please wait a moment.”

You watched with part surprise part wonder as Ortho’s right hand transformed into a tiny laser

“Big brother has downloaded and programmed over a thousand different fonts into my database. Is there a style that you prefer?”

“Um, not really, Ortho,” you reply, “why don’t you choose?”

“Alright then, I’ll apply a random generator to select one for us.”

After doing that he floated towards you and wrote Ortho Shroud onto your back

Well, it was less ‘wrote’ and more lasered ink in straight lines to create letters the same way a laser printer would shoot ink to create an image

“Thank you, Ortho, I really appreciate it,” you smiled at him, but then frowned, “though I don’t know if I can return the favour to you the same way I did to everyone else since you’re made of metal.”

“Hehe, it’s okay big sister,” he happily replies, “I’m sure big brother would be more than happy to have you write to him instead.”

IDIA SHROUD

Y/N’S COMING Y/N’S COMING Y/N’S COMING

If anyone were to ask what our resident technological genius was thinking about for last twenty minutes it would be that

You’d think that him knowing you for more than a few weeks, you rescuing him from his own overblot and learning his entire tragic anime backstory would prepare him for every time you come near him but Idia doesn’t work on the logic of normies

Can you blame him? You were like ultra SSR tier and he was so below you it wasn’t funny

Hey, at least he managed to beat that weird french blond guy with the bow and arrow in the fight over who got to be the leader of the Y/N fan club 

So when you and his brother, his two favourite people in the world, come into the sanctuary of his room with blinding smiles his heart does a one hit k.o

And what’s worse is that his body pillow is all the way over there on the bed so he can’t even sink his face into it for the comfort of darkness

And then when Ortho comes and says that you want him to sign your shirt and then do the same to you?

Well, the pink that was forming at the tips of his hair has erupted his flaming locks into a bright pink fuschia 

What kind of shoujo manga otome game special edition event is this

Okay, cool, Idia, cool

He takes one peek at you and then immediately covers his face with his palms as his hair grows pinker if that’s even possible

You tell him that you understand if he’s uncomfortable so it’s okay if he doesn’t want to do it

But, you see Y/N, he does

He would very much like to take part in this event

But his social stats are lower than the bottom of the ocean

And he doesn’t think he’ll be able to level up in the next two or three decades at least 

Seeing his brother’s internal plight, Ortho huffs at him to just do it

So he does it

Because he wants to, alright - not-not because he’s being shamed by his little brother

So he picks up one of his pens with a miniature funko pop of his favourite anime character on it and hastily signs his name without even looking 

Thankfully he signed on a free space on your back otherwise he would never show you his face again

You ask him if he wants you to do the same to him and he passes out

Sigh, Ortho activate the defibrillators 

MALLEUS DRACONIA

You meet Tsunotarou after the sun has set on Twisted Wonderland and you invite him inside of Ramshackle so that the two of you can share some tea you’ve prepared before you can start your nightly walk in the woods

He politely questions you on the state of your dress and you laugh and tell him all about how you mentioned a tradition back in your home world to your friends and how that evolved into a sort of scavenger hunt for signatures 

As delighted as he is that you seem to be enjoying yourself and as thankful as he is that you were able to surround yourself with people who lift your spirits and ease your homesickness, he couldn’t help but feel a dark cloud of dread invading his mind and questioning whether or not this was another occasion that he was not invited to

“Tsunotarou?” you speak up, and hold up the pen that had accompanied you throughout this whole ordeal, “would you like to sign your name as well.”

He gives you a pleasant smile as he takes a sip of his tea, “I suppose I could, Child of Man. But that begs the question.”

You tilt your head in confusion and he internally laughs at how endearing you look, “what question?”

“On how you would like me to sign,” he gives you a smug little grin, “names are very important to the fae, you see. They’re very powerful, as well. In fact, a human giving a fae their name without thinking is often considered an act of foolishness (ouch, you could sense that subtle dig at your initial meeting but, in your defence you were new to this world and the concept of fairies and magic in general, and you didn’t even know the guy). So I would need to ask you if you would rather have me sign as the crown prince, Malleus Draconia or as the Tsunotarou that you met wandering around in the woods near your abode?”

“Is there really a difference?” you pose a question of your own, “Tsunotarou is Malleus and Malleus is Tsunotarou. To me both are the same. I know the rumours of you being powerful aren’t unfounded - I mean, you fixed the entire VDC venue in a second and called it child’s play so I can only imagine how strong you are. But the thing is, when I look at you, I don’t really see some crown prince who can destroy an island in the blink of an eye. All I see is a friend that I enjoy being in the company of - even if he can be a bit odd at times.”

“Odd? How brave of you to describe the future king in such a way. I was right in stating that you have no fear,” he teased you, eyes twinkling with mirth, “very well, I shall accept your request.”

He signs his name on you with the grace and elegance you’d expect a prince would have

You feel a slightly electric tingle from where the pen touches your skin through the fabric of your shirt and you can’t help but wonder if he had cast some sort of enchantment where his name was.

Once he has completed he hands you your pen back and you smile back at him, “I trust you, Tsunotarou. Not just because you’re my friend but also because you were one of the few who truly made me feel welcome even before we even knew each other. Actually, I trust you so much that-

You beckon him towards you, causing him to lean closer towards you. You take the pen and sign your name right on the first patch of white that you can see and reach

-that I would give you my name a hundred times without even a second of hesitation.”

ALRIGHT, TEACHER SNIPPETS: The next day, you take the shirt that you had worn the previous day and carry it around in your hands around campus so that you could ask the teachers to sign their names

PROFESSOR DIVUS CREWEL looks down at all of the names with disdain and mutters something about ‘rowdy mutts slobbering around his pup’ and something about ‘neutering’ before signing his name on your shirt with a flourish

PROFESSOR TREIN looks at you fondly and gives you one of his tea biscuits before signing his name. 

COACH ASHTON VARGAS gives you a booming laugh and a hair ruffle as he gladly signs his name all big and loud with several exclamation marks and some reminder to always work out

MR SAM argues with his friends from the other side on whether or not he should add their names as well. Instead he just signs his name and draws a cute little skull next to it

P.S. Please note that, if given the opportunity, any one of the NRC boys would very gladly and willingly write their names directly onto your skin with no hesitation whatsoever.

[creepswrites]

Might you compose a soft and endearing tale, featuring a gender-neutral protagonist, alongside Thomas Hewitt from the 2003 rendition? Your attention to this request would be greatly valued. Thank you sincerely!🙂

i like your funny words magic man, ask and you shall receive :] sorry it took so long ough...

THOMAS HEWITT X GN!READER (they/them)

SUMMARY: He just stared at you like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The punchline. But you didn't do much more than give his hand a squeeze and motion towards the pens. "Wanna get to work?" You frowned when you noticed he hadn't moved in awhile. "Thomas?"

"Y'know, your family thinks we're dating." You said so casually, following after Thomas through the fields.

The hot Texas sun beat down on you, dry grass brushing at your legs where your old work boots didn't cover. It was too hot for pants so you'd opted for shorts, now regretting the choice as the brush tickled at your exposed skin. You'd been assigned with accompanying Thomas to check out the livestock this morning before it got too hot, which you were honestly grateful for. Of all the chores the family had given you, you didn't mind taking care of the animals too much.

But you didn't really mind any chores so long as Thomas helped you.

You two had grown close during your short time with the Hewitt family. Luda May had found you hitchhiking in the sweltering heat a few weeks back and decided to give you help, bringing you home and getting you situated. You were... aware of what their family did. What they ate. But you preferred to lock yourself in your room when they brought over "guests" and tried to not think too hard when dinnertime rolled around.

Since you were still so new, you still had to be babysat during certain chores. Hoyt would've preferred you stayed in the kitchen cooking or cleaning the house but Luda May had insisted you experience more then just tending to the house. "Who knows," she'd said with a smirk in your directions, "Maybe when they get more serious about our Tommy, they'll need to know how to handle everything once we're dead 'n gone."

Her words stuck with you. Serious about Thomas? Did they assume you two were dating?

Thinking back on your interactions with him, you supposed you could see why they'd think that way. You tend to gravitate towards Thomas when the family fought, standing by his side and relying on his protection. Hoyt could be vicious when he was mad, especially towards you. You weren't family to them yet and the man never wasted an opportunity to remind you that you were expendable, still menu potential.

But Thomas always came to your aid, no matter what.

Which led to now. You watched his back as he walked ahead of you, slowing to a stop as he did. He looked at you over his shoulder, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Wha'dya you make of that?" You asked, crossing your arms over your chest, studying him.

Thomas seemed to mull it over before turning away in lieu of any real response. Which was typical of him.

But you weren't having it. You kept your head high as you approached him, gingerly sliding your hand into his, uncaring of the dirt and blood stained there. His head whipped around to stare at you, eyes wide and almost terrified. "It wouldn't be so bad," you hummed, looking where your hands were connected. "You're awfully nice."

He just stared at you like he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. The punchline. But you didn't do much more than give his hand a squeeze and motion towards the pens. "Wanna get to work?" You frowned when you noticed he hadn't moved in awhile. "Thomas?"

Gingerly, he squeezed your hand back. The look in his eyes was... dare you say, hopeful? It made your heart melt a little.

Thomas stepped towards you, gingerly bumping his forehead to the top of your head in the closest form of a kiss he could give you with the mask on. You let out a soft gasp, tightening your grip on his hand as a delighted smile grew on your face. "You really...?"

He looked embarrassed but didn't pull away like you'd expected. As always, Thomas stood steady beside you, keeping you close.

Later on, you'd learn that Thomas only accompanied you on so many of your chores simply because he wanted to. But for now, you happily walked hand in hand with him towards the pens, a happy smile on both your faces.

[readychilledwine]

Bound by Fate pt 8

Summary - When Kaylee Archeron meets Azriel, her world turns upside down. Between balancing her trauma, new powers, a mating bond, and war looming over her new home, Kaylee learns that everything is not as little as it once seemed.

Warnings - Violence, a tiny dragon, Elain being mean, sappy batboys trying to get their Kaylee home

A/n - Sheeeeees baaaaaack. I cut this into a part 8 and part 9 because I felt the ending was dramatic enough alone. Also, I am hoping I got all of you on the taglist, but please let me know if you want to be added or if I missed you. I am hitting my tag limit with this story, so I apologize for the reblog that's about to come.

Also, thank you @sarawritestories for cheering me on through my love hate relationship with this chapter

Series Masterlist ✨️ Azriel Masterlist ✨️ Master Masterlist

Azriel had never felt more broken than he did right now.

She was lonely.

His mate was lonely.

He moved to her slowly, kneeling before her and stroking her cheek. “Let me take you home, Kaylee. It's going to get too cold here. You hate being cold.”

Kaylee wouldn't look at him. She didn't move from his touch, but she didn't acknowledge him either. It stung him to his core to see her like this. “Kaylee, starlight, please, come home. I will bring you back tomorrow if I must, just please come home.”

“Did you do it?” 

Azriel knew immediately what she meant. His stomach dropped as he got closer, finally feeling her soft skin under his. “No. I never touched her. You are mine, Kaylee. I am yours." He took her chin in his hand, forcing her face to his. "You are the only female I will ever want. I've waited over 500 years for you.”

And those long years wishing to the lost souls during Starfall and to every twinkling piece of starlight felt so miniscule now. What was 500 years compared to the eternity he was fated to have with Kaylee. Beautiful, kind, and innocent Kaylee. “I would never risk losing you.”  He almost jumped as the drake huffed, golden brown eyes opening to stare at the 3 males before snuggling into Kaylee. 

Azriel tentatively reached out, patting the nose of the beast resting his head in Kaylee's lap. “He is fairly attached to you already.” 

“Can you blame him?” Cassian took a small step towards Kaylee, gently tilting her head up. “Have you ever met someone like our Kaylee?”

Rhysand then moved closer to. “Such pure souls are rare. And it appears we all made a mistake while dealing with this one.” His hand brushed her golden hair back. “Come home, little sister.”

She shook her head, eyes watering as she snuggled into the drake's snoot and kissed it. “He is so lonely.” Another soft huff came. Then, the scent of magic. Where a large drake once laid, a small one now sat in Kaylee's hands. Wide blue eyes turned to Rhysand, a pout already forming and triggering a distant memory he didn't dare linger on for too long. “Can we keep him?” 

An otter, a drake, a rabbit, a fox. Azriel had lost track of the animals sneaking into Kaylee's room to join her as she slept soundly in his arms. She had never said she forgave him, never asked for more of an explanation, but she knew she did not want him to leave again. She knew she wanted him in her bed, even if a small scaled creature now shared her pillow. 

He pulled her close, breathing in her freshly cleaned hair. The scent of strawberries was clinging to her, but it was not her. Her natural scent had started to change, and Azriel could not complain. It now reminded him of a soft rain mixing with lilac, as if she was becoming nature itself.

He smiled as she turned over, hooking her leg over his. He pulled her closer, sighing softly at the same time she did. For the first time since she left with Lucien, Azriel found himself drifting off to sleep. Even if a creature he should have feared was currently crawling onto his mate and curling up on her side near him. 

Kaylee hated mornings, but she especially hated waking up alone after asking her mate to stay. As if he knew, Azriel walked into the room a tray in his hands as gray pants rested low on his hips. “Good morning,” he sent a small plate on the floor, watching as the unnamed drake went to the raw meat. His attention was then solely on her as he set the tray down and offered her his arm, leading her to the sitting area of her lavish room. 

Rhys had decorated it with pillows and throw blankets. She remembered him sparkling with pride as the mix of deep blues and golds, as if decorating so simply was a difficult task. She has praised him nonetheless, cherishing the budding relationship with her new big brother, and somehow sensing he needed a little sister to tell him how fantastic he truly was. She did just notice, though, how they matched Azriel's siphons. “This doesn't count as accepting the bond, right?”

Azriel chuckled softly as he gave Kaylee oatmeal and fruits, “Not unless you plan on feeding or serving me. Do you want to talk now or eat first?” They both jumped as the sound of blowing fire filled the room before a heavy munching noise. “Well that answers that question.”

He watched her as she ate. He memorized little things. How she swayed when she ate. How her nose would crinkle, smile going wide when she tasted something she was really enjoying. How her mouth would twitch when she smelled things. “You understand now why we wouldn't eat your food?”

Kaylee smiled as she rolled her eyes, “I cooked that meal.”

He clocked her nose twitch, noting it for later. “You did? Is that a preview of my future? Because if it is, I will prepare my own mating meal and just have you serve it."

Her jaw fell open before she threw a grape at him. “You are so mean.” 

“Tasted like shit.”

“Then I guess it's good I didn't actually make it.”

“Thank the Mother. I was concerned for my stomach." Kaylee smiled before leaning in to kiss bis cheek. "

Your nose twitches when you lie.” He watched her face fall slightly. “I noticed it when you told Feyre you would be okay after that first dinner. Then again, when she left after the first meeting. You also dance when you eat. When you sleep, your legs move until you find the perfect spot for them.”

Kaylee felt herself flushing, hearing all his little observations of her smallest habits, and Azriel smirked before he continued. “You whisper when you read, sounding out each word until you know you're correct. That's how we realized you couldn't read. You braid your hair when you get nervous. Rhys found that one for me as he was teaching you. You do all these simple little things that make me believe you are the most beautiful precious thing.” 

He grabbed her hands, holding them in his own. “I am sorry.” She nodded, brows raising to indicate to continue. He noted that as well, predicted this would not be his last apology to his mate. “I allowed myself to put duty before you, and it put us in a situation where you felt I was someone you could no longer trust. Rhysand and I have discussed his part in this, and he will apologize later, but my part hurt you more.” 

Kaylee felt herself losing her will to hold on to what little anger she had as he moved, kneeling before her. “I am sorry I was ever in her room. I am sorry I was too shocked to leave. I am sorry I did not speak with you right away that morning.”

“It's okay.” She could hardly blink before he kneeled for her. “Az-”

“It's not okay, Kaylee.” He listened to her heart as he touched her lower thighs. “I hurt you. I failed to protect you. I failed you as your mate.”

“Azriel-”

“Let me finish.” He brushed the tears falling on her face and sighed. “My job as your mate is to ensure you feel loved, that you are safe, and that you know we are equals in everything. I have allowed myself to be pulled away from you, and you needed me much more than your sisters did, didn't you?”

Kaylee looked to the ceiling, the door, anywhere but the male who she knew could feel every raw emotion she had. He squeezed her thighs softly, bringing her back to him. “Your silence is enough of an answer for me to know I have failed you. If you believe I am worthy of a third chance, I will not fail you again. I will be a male worthy of your love.” She was silent, too stunned to speak. “Kaylee, my love, please.”

Kaylee had to admit, Azriel looked pretty on his knees. He looked pretty begging for forgiveness over something that he didn't do. Over something she was learned was planned by her own sisters. 

Azriel kissed her palms, holding her hands so tightly it was as if he feared she'd disappear like the wind. "Whatever I have to do, whatever you need me to be, whatever you need. I will do anything to be worthy of holding you again. Kaylee, please." 

Kaylee just sighed, cupping his cheek as she did and stared into those desperate hazel eyes. “We have two weeks to put a strong united front.” He nodded in agreement, but his brows knit in confusion over the statement. “I want to also have a better relationship with you within two weeks. Just to shove it to Eris. But that also means you have to allow me to do something first.” He jumped her without hesitation, crashing her lips to his and delighting in her laughter. 

He would give Kaylee the world, live and breathe solely for the purpose of her happiness, and now he had to prove it.

Dinner that night was silent as Kaylee watched Elain watching Azriel. He had not left Kaylee's side since long slow kisses were shared in her room. They had only stopped when Rhys and Feyre came, knocking on the door after their late breakfast. The Lord and Lady laughed as Kaylee answered the door, hair a tangled mess from Azriel's hands while he laid panting on her bed in a state of bliss. 

He had not even left her as Rhysand trained her powers, watching as she called forth every beast and creature in her collection and communicated with them. Her powers had grown quickly, almost too quickly. The warning was still visible on her discolored fingers.

Kaylee had access to levels of magic that had not been granted since the first fae, levels that were hand given out by the Gods to their chosen few and carrying along those bloodlines in the rarest form. Lucien's warning rang in his and Rhysand's head, a warning of the former tamer who turned more beast than fae before walking off into the forest to never been seen again. 

It festered in the thoughts of both males as they communicated silently, involving Amren as they all looked to the youngest sister's discolored fingertips. It's as if the magic I'd eating at her body, Amren was studying her like a hawk. I will look into the Books.

Kaylee cut into her potato, smiling slightly as Azriel traded her steamed vegetables for the serving of meat she had not touched. “Kaylee, we're going to have to find a way to supplement proteins in your diet.”

Nesta shook her head and spoke softly, “She will get over it.” Nesta had been Kaylee's first fight since learning the truth. Her oldest sister had folded immediately. All cattiness out of her body as soon as they were alone together. Broken together.

And Nesta was broken. A simple fact Kaylee had known for a while. Her oldest sister had not thought of the consequences. She had just wanted Kaylee to hurt as much as she was, and watching her thrive, watching her grow, it had been too much. Kaylee allowed Nesta to hold her to whisper each apology. An apology for not protecting her, for what happened to them, for failing as a sister, and Kaylee accepted each one. It was a side of Nesta reserved only for Kaylee. The side of Nesta she told Cassian about and prayed had not been stolen from them. 

Nesta smiled to Kaylee, “She did this even when we were-” the sentence trailed off with the fond memory. “Azriel, the earring you bought Kaylee are lovely.”

“They are, aren't they?” Rhys moved to brush blonde hair behind a pointed ear. “They work well with the sapphires.” Small diamond twinkled next to the earring Azriel had given her before the Cauldron, sparkling in the light and showing off her newest piercing. 

Azriel maintained his mask, but moved a hand to her thigh under the table. “Only the best for my mate.” 

“And if she doesn't actually want you?” The question hung in the air. “Or if you don't truly want her? You two are forced together. Do you not deserve a choice, Azriel?"

“Elain,” Lucien's warning was a whisper. “Thread carefully.”

Lucien watched as the young Archeron put her silverware down. He watched her take out those mentioned earrings as everything paused as Feyre moved closer to Rhysand and away from Elain. 

“Mother fuck!” Cassian jumped back as Kaylee jumped Elain and chaos ensued. Nesta was the first to her two younger sisters, trying to pull the small wild animal that had taken Kaylee's place off of Elain as Mor and Amren watched with amused smiles. Rhys was next, touching Nesta's shoulder, stating he would handle it, only to be met with a well placed elbow from the now smirking eldest sister.

Azriel and Lucien stared at each other, both rapidly motioning for the other to do something as Kaylee landed a solid punch on Elain's shoulder. "You first. I insist," Lucien motioned towards them. "I already am missing one eye. I would like to keep the other." It was instantly noted by all in the room how the youngest sister was refusing to truly hurt Elain, to damage her more as tears of frustration and anger poured down Kaylee's face.

It was Cassian who finally took the youngest, throwing her over her shoulder and leaving the room with her. Kaylee watched each of his graceful steps, knowing where they were going as she clung to his leathers crying. He sunk her into the training ring, stepping back a few feet before getting into a stance and nodding. 

He braced himself for her sloppy attacks, knowing more than anything to cover his face, but knowing this was nothing. This was nothing compared to her anger when she first woke up. The only difference between the Kaylee before him and the one who begged to be trained was precision. He saw his opening, grabbing her by her waist and pulling her back to his chest. “Breathe, Kaylee.” He kissed the back of her head as her thrashing stopped. “Just breathe.” 

She could not see Cassian as the sobs slowed. She could not see the concern on his face as he looked to the skies.

Flying there in its full glory, circling above them like a predator searching for prey, was her drake, and Cassian was just hoping he, and no one in Velaris, was about to be it's next meal.

@impossibelle @luvmoo @wallacewillow0773638 @nightless

Bound by Fate:

@cat-or-kitten @knmendiola @holb32

@mis-lil-red @minakay @whatsupb18 @deeshag @justdreamstars @pyrostatic @acourtofmarvels @no1massassin @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @acourtofbatboydreams @mich0731 @thelov3lybookworm @going-through-shit

@coralseacourt @snoopyspace @tothestarsandwhateverend @st4r-girl-official @brieflyclassymortal @nickishadow139 @julesofvolterra @isa1b2h3 @awkward-mystic-beauty @12358 @throneofsmut @inloveallthetime @throneofsapphics @hnnybee0 @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @vermillionwinter @mybestfriendmademe @mrstepes @darling006 @mich0731 @wallacewillow0773638 @hnyclover

[chrisevansonly]

𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐰𝐨: 𝐖𝐞𝐥𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐓𝐨 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐤

𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐜𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐜 𝐱 𝐟𝐞𝐦𝐚𝐥𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: the day had finally come to bring little matteo to the track. charles had been waiting for this day since he was born, but made sure to wait until you were ready. now matteo is 6 months old and his father couldn’t be more excited to show him everything he could about f1

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: mentions of anxiety, harsh media but other than that, lots of fluff!

𝐚/𝐧: here she is! chapter two and man have the past few days been taxing on me, i’m just trying to focus on writing and ignoring everything else so, i hope your enjoying this series and are looking forward to this chapter! it’s a bit on the shorter end but i hope that’s okay, i haven’t been feeling well lately<3

𝐰𝐜: 900 ish…?

🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️🏎️

It was finally the long-awaited day, well for Charles at least, where little Matteo was finally going to be heading to the track to watch the grand prix. Well technically you had agreed to qualifying day and if all went well then you would come back for the race on Sunday. It wasn’t like you didn’t want to bring your baby boy to watch his father do what he loves, you were still just an anxious new mom, and your husband knew that.

“Okay, extra bottles…his pacifier, pluto the dog”

“Baby, I think you have everything..”

Shaking your head you paused

“Charles, I need to make sure I have everything because if I don’t and he freaks out I-I just”

“Whoa..okay..”

Charles placed his hands on your shoulders, your eyes coming up to meet his which of course were full of nothing but love for you

“Are you sure you want to come?” he asked, no hint of disappointment at all

“Yes, I do..Char I promise I do..I’m sorry I just am all over the place I suppose”

Charles nodded, understanding exactly where you were coming from, thankfully the two of you were able to have a quiet moment together as Matteo napped before you had to leave

“It’s okay, I know you’re anxious, but we’ll take it one step at a time okay? When I can’t be with you I know Joris or Marta will be right?”

You nodded

“You also know if you need anything at all you can have someone from the team get me right away right..?”

He waited until you nodded once again before pressing a kiss to your forehead

“Right…no you’re right..okay I think I have everything ready to go then”

“Good, then let’s go get the little man and head out!”

-

Monaco was a beautiful city, but on race week and weekend it seemed to get that much more magical. The paddock was no different, familiar faces and friends could be spotted easily, Charles’s family around as well which was perfect for Matteo

“Bonjour petit ours!”

At the sound of Arthur Leclerc’s voice, Matteo squealed as he began to wave his little arms around, the younger Leclerc brother quickly coming over and taking him from you, before leaning forward to pull you in for a hug, placing a kiss on both of your cheeks

“Bonjour chouchou”

“Hi Thur, nice to see a familiar face”

He smiled

“Yes I would think so, this year is a bit crazy, I was just about to walk over to the Ferrari garage if you want company?”

“I’d love that! Where is Carla?”

Matteo placed a hand on Arthur’s cheek as he babbled away, his little eyes looking at everything around him

“Oh she is on her way, i’m sure she’ll be glued to you both”

Ever since you’d started your relationship with Charles and had the chance to meet Carla when she came into Arthur’s life, you’d been super close to one another, it was like having a little sister all in one.

“Well he seems to be quite content to be here”

You smiled as you looked at your little one, his eyes still enamoured by the sights and noises

“I’m surprised, I was so anxious he’d be scared of everything”

“He is a Leclerc, he was born for this.”

Arthur sent you a wink as you both arrived at the garages, truth be told the comment he made had sent a bit of worry throughout you. Charles grew up karting, and it was something he had begun to talk to you about with Matteo, and you were absolutely terrified. Terrified at the thought of him getting in that little kart, terrified to watch him go fast and potentially get hurt. It was a thought for another day.

Matteo had settled back into your arms as his uncle kissed his head and then walked away towards some of his F2 friends he’d spotted, giving you time to bring your baby boy over to the garage. It wasn’t long before he let out his tell tale excited squeal, and it meant he had either spotted his father, or Max Verstappen. Matteo’s relationship with Max was something so adorable, he’d gotten close to the dutch driver from a young age, and he and Kelly had always been two of the first people you’d call to babysit, besides your mother in law of course.

“Hey there little speed demon!”

You rolled your eyes at Max as he was quick to come over and take Matteo from you

“Oh sorry Y/N didn’t even see you there” he teased

“Sure, no I totally understand, I’m virtually invisible when I’ve got this cutie with me”

Max went to rebuttal when an arm slipped around your waist and a pair of lips pressed to your temple

“Tu n’es jamais invisible pour moi, chérie”

“Aww merci bébé!”

Leaning into Charles you laughed as Max was quick to cover Matteo’s eyes

“Come on, we need to escape, too much grossness here for you baby leclerc!”

“Bring him back before quali please!”

Charles yelled as Max began to walk away, the red bull driver yelling a ‘you got it!’ back before it was just you and your husband.

“How are you feeling now?” he asked letting you lean further into his side, knowing you needed a bit more comfort, especially when Matteo wasn’t around

“A bit better, Teo’s been loving every second..I should have known everything would be okay”

“No, it’s okay to be anxious you know that, it’s his first time here…I know you’re anxious right now knowing he’s not with you”

You hated how easily he could read you, and man did he know you inside and out like a book

“He’s safe with Max, i’m sure he’s gone to see Kelly as well, if you want I can call him?” he offered which had you shaking your head

“Oh no, let him enjoy his time, though i’m sure Maman will be over soon begging to take him, I think she’s jealous of Max”

This had Charles laughing as he nodded in agreement

“Yes she was telling me the other day that he spends far too much time with Max”

“We’re so lucky aren’t we?”

“We are.”

It always occurred to you that unlike some families you would never ever run out of love, in fact you had an abundance of it. From your friends and family, to Charles’s friends and family. Matteo would always grow up with so many people around him that adored him just as much as you and Charles did.

Even if there was a deeper conversation waiting and gnawing at you to be had, it could wait for another day. Right now you only wanted to focus on your family and Matteo as he got his first taste at Formula One track life. Nothing could wipe the smile off your face seeing how happy your boys were. Charles had settled into being a father so gracefully, managing his time at work and at home in a way that had you so grateful.

“It’s almost quali..we should go find Teo”

“Good idea, Max has stolen my son enough!”

Shaking your head, Charles took your hand and began to walk towards the one spot you knew where he would be. Soon enough, you saw your little boy laughing and clapping as he was entertained by not only Max but Christian as well.

At least you knew if Ferrari didn’t pick him when he got older Red Bull would.

english translations:

Bonjour petit ours - hello little bear

Bonjour chouchou - hello sweetheart

Tu n’es jamais invisible pour moi, chérie - you are never invisible to me baby

Aww merci bébé - thank you baby

ʚlittle karter series tag list

@goldenmclaren @a1leexxa @piastricodedfr @treehouse-mouse @therealcap @goldenalbon @wintfleur

[theillusionmachine]

Where Love and Confusion Begin (Ominis Gaunt x F!Reader)

"Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

December 25th, 1893 The Yule Ball... Wear your best formal attire-

Everywhere I turned I seemed to hear about. Countless after countless bouts of excited, restless chatter would always manage to come echoing back to me. And while I understood why most would be excited about the prospect of a ball, I on the other hand couldn't help but feel... downright anxious about it all.

I knew it sounded silly, completely dramatic. Afterall, I had been through a lot worse things during my time in Hogwarts. But for some reason, my mind, my thoughts, my worries just couldn't relax. And when they did for a short while, they'd slowly begin to drift back onto one person...

Ominis Gaunt.

I was practically infatuated with the man. For a multitude of reasons, besides his obviously good looks. He was marvelously kind, had a whit so quick it could make your head spin, and could be snarky and sarcastic one minute. But caring and loving the next.

Ominis simply made it hard not to love him.

But he did, however, make it hard for me to even think about going to the Yule Ball with him. We were friends, close ones despite the fact that I had only been at Hogwarts for a couple of years. Our friendship would be something I'd always treasure, something I would never want to ruin because my love for him clouded my judgement.

And the thought of losing him because of that was enough to make me nauseous.

"Enjoying a cat nap, are we?"

I slowly cracked open one of my eyes, wincing slightly at the beam of sunlight that had been slowly warming me as I laid down in one of the many alcoves at Hogwarts. But once my vision focused fully, Sebastian came into view. Grinning down at me cheekily.

"I wasn't napping." I muttered, forcing myself to sit up. "Just enjoying the sun.

"You could've gone outside for that." Sebastian suggested, now sitting down on the floor too.

"It's freezing, you sit outside for an hour." I replied, a little too snappy for my liking.

But Sebastian wasn't fazed by my crass mood in the slightest. In fact, Sebastian seemed to find me to be quite humorous. "Aww, is someone missing their nap partner?" He teased, making me grumble in annoyance.

"Oh, shut it, I don't know what you're talking about."

Sebastian let an exaggerated sigh, leaning back slightly on his hands before continuing. "You both are insufferably stubborn you know that right? Ominis was in a terrible mood after History of Magic because you decided to ditch today."

I scoffed at Sebastian theatrics, not even bothering to hide the fact that I had rolled my eyes. "History of Magic is painfully boring, anyone who goes to that class will be in a ba-"

"History of Magic is tiring enough, but her not being their made it worse." Sebastian deadpanned, trying his hardest to imitate Ominis's tone.

"Well, I am very entertaining." I replied sarcastically. "And can you really blame me for skipping out on that class? I swear if I hear one more time how many wizarding cloaks were destroyed during the Goblin Rebellion, I'll lose whatever mind I have left."

"It's 632." Sebastian couldn't help but laugh at my less than amused expression.

"Are you finished? Or did you actually approach me to talk about something important?"

"Yes." He began, clearing his throat. "If you would stop changing the topic that is."

"I am not-"

"Ah, ah, that's the same thing Ominis said to me after classes. You two are so incredibly in sync today." Sebastian teased. "It's quite adorable really. He's moody, you're moody, you're happy, he's smiling up a storm, if you've disappeared to... god knows where, a majority of the time he's right there with you."

It annoyed me to no end how right on the money he is...

"What're you getting at Sebastian?" I questioned meekly, trying my hardest to ignore the flush I was beginning to feel on my cheeks.

"I think we both know exactly what I'm getting at." Sebastian spoke bluntly, raising up from the stone-cold floor. "Maybe you should ask him, Ominis can get into his head rather easily. And you know that can stop him from saying what he wants to."

Sebastian then walked away, leaving me practically dumbfounded on the floor.

Ask him... ask him... merlin I don't know if that idea made me feel better or worse. The idea of being rejected by him was painful. But maybe if I asked to go with him as friends that it would work...

"Sebastian, you might've actually had a good idea for once."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I had decided to skip dinner for the night, not feeling too hungry after the talk I had with Sebastian. I figured a moment alone would give me enough clarity to decide whether I'd actually bite the bullet and asked Ominis to the ball.

"Ah, there you. I was starting to think you were avoiding me."

But a moment alone in this school was a rarity... Of course, he was here... why wouldn't he be?

"Ominis, I figured you would've been in the Great Hall for dinner." I greeted, trying to keep my nervous laughter from bubbling up to the surface.

"Wasn't hungry." He answered nonchalantly, turning back to face the fireplace of our common room.

I stood there for a moment, in silence, completely unsure of what to say next. But Ominis beat me to it, filling the silence before I got the chance to.

"Aren't you going to sit?" He began, I hadn't even noticed he had turned his head again, his eyes somehow managing to land right on me.

Just like they always managed to do...

"Or were you really avoiding me?"

That sentence managed to snap me out of my tongue-tied state. That nervous laugh I held in before leaked out before I had the chance to stop it this time around. "You know I wasn't avoiding you."

I finally moved from my spot, walking over and sitting next to him on the couch. I couldn't help but gaze over at him. His hand was lightly raised in the air, his wand beaming red at the tip as a book rested in his lap. A small smile curved his pale pink lips, he looked completely at ease. Which after the past couple of years was a nice sight to see.

"You're nervous." Ominis muttered, and though his voice was soft, I couldn't help but tense up. "You keep bouncing your leg... I know you only do that when you're anxious about something."

"I didn't even realize I was doing it." I admitted, leaning back into the cush couch cushions.

Ominis copied my movements, leaning back against the cushions a mere moment later. His book was now abandoned, the pages of it turning carelessly on their own accord. "Something on your mind?"

I took in a steady breath; thankful it had not trembled like I thought it would. "Maybe." I answered coyly, making Ominis's small smile bloom slightly.

"Are those thoughts the reason I've hardly heard from you all day?"

damn it damn it damn it... think of something to say quick... don't come off as suspicious...

"Hey, maybe you were the one avoiding me. Last time I checked I haven't heard from you too much either today." I deflected, trying to sound humorous.

"Hmm," Ominis hummed. "You've got a good point there... but I have a reason for my... disappearance." He added vaguely.

I leaned forward trying to get a good look at his face. The shadows of the fire danced along his face, illuminating his marble eyes beautiful. His expression was humorous too, and I knew exactly why...

"You know I hate it when you leave me hanging like that." I grumbled, making him let out a smooth chuckle.

"I merely wanted to avoid the constant chatter of the Yule Ball is all. It's beginning to become a bit... excessive."

"You two are so in sync today."

I shook my head, trying to get the words Sebastian had spoken out of my head. "You're telling me, you should hear what I wake up to everyday as of late."

"I could only image." Ominis replied, chuckling once again. "I would rather not hear about something I know I'm not going to."

I could feel my heart sink at his words. I hadn't even thought of the fact that he might not want to go at all.

"N-not going to? Why wouldn't you go?" I questioned curiously.

"A blind person spending their night alone at a ball doesn't exactly sound to enticing to me."

"Oh." Is all I could think to say, I leaned back into the couch contemplating my next move carefully.

Should I ask him... what if he just really doesn't want to go. I don't wanna look stupid.

Screw it...

"Would you want to go with me?"

I tense at my own words, not daring to move to see Ominis's reaction. My heart was racing, so much so it felt as though my pulse was about to burst through my skin. And the silence I was met with after I asked was completely unsettling.

Merlin why did I listen to Seb-

"It's a bit untraditional for a girl to ask a boy to a ball, isn't it?" He pondered.

Okay, it's not a total no... that's a relief.

"Maybe, but it's not like that has to be a bad thing." I replied hopefully. "And besides, it'll be fun to go with someone who... so entertaining to you." I added, attempting to sound boastful, but it just came across as a bit... jumbled.

Another bout of silence came, and in those few moments of the quiet. Part of me wished I was a legilimens, so I could see what was going on inside his mind... so I could hear what he thought of all of this.

When finally, I got my answer.

"I think it'd be nice to go with you."

Oh, my Merlin he actually said yes...

I couldn't stop the smile that began to form, a bubbling shyness began to boil to the surface. And my heart still definitely felt like it was going to beat out of its chest. With what little shred of coolness I had left, I finally was able to reply.

"It's a date...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Then, the 25th rolled around... a day I was dreading at one point. But now felt so excited about it that I couldn't sleep.

I felt giddy, or like a swarm of butterflies was fluttering throughout me. I felt restless, I couldn't stay in one place, and I fought the urge to not pace most of the night. But for some reason, I couldn't seem to care... and with every passing hour that I stayed awake, it just revitalized me.

Though, judging from the bags in my eyes, my body didn't exactly share the same sentiment I did.

But thank goodness for Samantha Dale...

I never would've guessed she had such a knack for Herbology. Yet, when she let me up into her dorm in the Ravenclaw tower, after we agreed to get ready together. A whole spread of concoctions was set up.

"You know there is such a thing as beauty sleep." Samantha teased as she stared at my reflection in her vanity.

She carefully places a mint green cream under my eyes, making a pleasant tingling sensation hit me. "That'll clear those bags up in no time!" She stated confidently.

"Thank you." I began to bounce my leg again as the nerves began to creep up on me.

"Nervous?" Samantha asked, sitting down on the edge of her bed.

"Is it obvious?" I asked in reply, letting out a shaky chuckle.

"Just a smidge." She spoke considerately. "But I don't think you need any reason to fret. I find you and Ominis to be a lovely pairing."

My eyes shot up from my hands to gaze at her and I could feel an eyebrow raise questioningly. "P-paring? as in?"

"A couple?" Samantha replied, just as questioningly as I did.

"Oh... we aren't together... like that." I muttered sheepishly.

Samantha chuckled, looking over at me incredulously. "There's no way! Honestly, a lot of people already assume you two are together."

"Really?"

Samantha scoffed, shaking her head at me. "Look, I've seen the way you look at him. And I've seen the way he is around you. People who aren't in love don't act like that."

"Hey, I'm not denying that I've fallen for him." I admitted honestly. "It's just... a hard thing to say to someone you've grown so close to."

Samantha just eyed me for a moment, seemingly taking my words in. "You think he doesn't feel the same way, do you?"

I felt my lips curve into a bittersweet smile. My sights falling onto my hands again. "It's hard to believe that he would."

"Hmm... but, you two are going to the ball together?"

I chuckled at her puzzled words before nodding my head. "Sounds maddening, doesn't it?"

Samantha was quick to shake her head, a sudden, bright smile coming second later. "Not maddening, but an opportunity. You should say something to him!"

"Eh..."

"No, no, just listen for a second!" Samantha exclaimed. "It'd be the perfect opportunity to, honestly this sounds like something that would be in a romance novel!"

"But this isn't a romance novel."

"Exactly! So, it'll be even more beautiful, when the pair of you are slow dancing... and the music and the others around you fade because all you can focus on is yourselves. And before you know it, you two will kiss."

That truly does sound picture perfect...

"Why would it be more beautiful?"

Samantha lovesick smile faded into fondness. "Because it'll be real, and I'll know that the love you feel will be real as well."

I took in a deep breath, trying not to get consumed by the possibilities Samantha planted in my head. But I simply couldn't...

"You have such a way with words." I huffed playfully. "So, I'm really going to do this? I'm... I'm going to tell him that I... love him."

Samantha nodded; her expression full of enthusiasm. "That's exactly what you're going to do! You'll arrive as friends and leave together reveling in love."

"Won't leave tonight as friends." I muttered moreso to myself to... pep myself up.

But Samantha managed to hear me. "Exactly." She spoke, her tone full of satisfaction. "Now, enough chit chat. We must get our hair done." She added, jumping up from her bed before walking over to me.

"Yes let's..."

As I gazed at myself in the mirror, and I felt the occasional tugs of my hair, my mind began to wander. And soon enough, it wandered right onto Ominis. I was sure he was being a lot more composed than me. But part of me wished that he was just as giddy as I was. Or had thought of little scenarios about how out night would go like I had.

But I seriously doubt that would be going through his mind..

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cross, shift, pull, tie...

"Ominis?"

Cross, pull... shift, tie

"Uh, Ominis?"

Tie... tie... tie...

"Ominis! Are you trying to fix your tie or choke yourself?" My friends' words were humorous. And I could hear him try to, but fail to hold back a laugh.

"I couldn't tell you honestly." I admitted, laughing myself as I attempted to tug my fingers out of the knot, I managed to get them in.

I could hear Sebastian begin to walk over to me before I suddenly felt a slight tugging on my undone tie. "You can slick back and swirl your hair into... merlin knows how many swirls; you can somehow manage to perfectly button hundreds of those tiny damn things. But you can't fix a tie?" Sebastian muttered humorously.

I let out an exaggerated sigh before I replied. "I can't be perfect at everything can I?"

"Oh, shove off." Sebastian rebutted, breaking out into a laughter. "There, now that looks like a bowtie... you're welcome princess." He added mockingly.

I sighed, attempting to give him a glare. "Don't call me that."

Sebastian bellowed out another laugh before his footsteps began to wander in our room once again. "What would you prefer I call you?"

"Not that." I scoffed, carefully sitting back down onto my bed.

My thoughts began to push to the forefront of my mind, and it didn't take too long for it to fixate itself on her. Since she asked me, I couldn't help but spend many nights thinking about us... about her. Or how tonight would go, if by the end of the night we'd still be nothing more than friends... or something more.

Merlin did I wish we'd end up being something more. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this... facade with her.

"Ah, what's going on in that mind of yours?" Sebastian questioned but before I even attempted to respond he cut me off. "Is it her?"

"When did you get so bloody... observant?"

"I always have been, dear friend of mine. You just never bothered to notice." Sebastian boasted, I could only imagine how cocky his demeanor was as he spoke.

"My apologies, I've simply been too distracted by all the dabbling in the Dark Arts you did." I replied sarcastically.

"Hey, I stopped... eventually." Sebastian grumbled. "S-stop changing the subject... you two are way too good at it. You must've rubbed off on her."

I simply smiled at his words, soaking in the thought of her once again. The smooth sound of her voice, her raspberry iris perfume, her touch. I could drown happily in the thoughts of her, day in and day out.

I couldn't help but not to... I was hopelessly in love with her. And part of me was terrified because of it. But it was a fear I was thankful to experience in some way, and I'd experience it time and time again if it meant I could have her.

But I knew it my heart that I would never get that lucky...

"You should tell her, Ominis." Sebastian suggested, taking me out of my head once again.

I shook my head at his words, doubt began to replace the feelings of fondness I felt before. "I don't know..."

"What's there not to know? Tonight is the perfect opportunity to."

"I don't want to ruin things with her." I muttered lowly.

"Trust me, you wouldn't." Sebastian reassured me. "And, it's better to say something to her now. 'Cause it'll eat away at you mate, and you don't want that."

"How can you be so sure?" I questioned, genuinely wondering how his mind could work so optimisticly.

Sebastian let out a soft scoff, as if he was stating the obvious. "Friends don't act the way you two act with each other. And last time I checked I never saw you and Anne cuddled up on the common room couch."

"Well-"

"Or had Anne playing with your hair while you napped on her lap."

"Okay but-"

"And I know for a fact that I've never seen Anne get... viscerally envious because she heard a group of girls talking about trying to slip you a love potion."

"Okay, okay, I get your point." I managed to speak, letting out a huff. "I understand what you're saying, I do."

"Ah, finally, you admit I'm right. Your life would be so much easier if you said that more." Sebastian boasted once again. "So, you're going to tell her tonight then?"

"I am." I spoke strongly, though I couldn't help but feel that doubt that had stopped me so many times before seep through. "I can't believe I'm going to, but I am."

Sebastian sounded thrilled as he let out an elated laugh. "Finally! Seriously, watching you two pinning over each other was starting to get old."

"Sorry for the inconvenience." I apologized, rolling my eyes at Sebastian's theatrics.

"Don't beat yourself up over it." Sebastian replied nonchalantly.

"Now let's get a move on, you don't want to keep your lady waiting too long now do we?"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The second I left the Samantha's dorm and made my journey back to the Slytherin common room. It was like my nerves continuously dashed away with each step I took. I felt levelheaded, as cool as one could be. It almost eerie to me, how I felt so nervous one minute but then completely calm the next.

Things just... felt right, like whatever was bound to happen tonight was simply meant to be. And I couldn't wait to spend my night with him, gently swaying as time seemingly ceased to exist.

Damn Samantha and her romance novels.

"Well, someone knows how to dress up." I turned my head, following the sound of Sebastian voice.

But any reply I attempted to come up with was lost the second I saw Ominis.

Green looks amazing on him...

"Wow," I began, sitting up from the arm of the plush couch. "You look fantastic."

Ominis was stood there, that same, at ease smile I looked forward to seeing so much greeted me tauntingly. "I'm sure you do as well." He spoke gently, my hands were then lightly gripped and placed in his hold.

My eyes mindlessly wandered down to them, and the longer my hands were place in his the more I realized how warm his felt compared to mind.

"Well, on that note, I think I'll leave you two lovebirds alone." Sebastian teased, quickly exiting the common room soon after.

The silence that came after Sebastian left was comfortable. There was no pressure or... plaguing thoughts to think of something to say. It was as if we were taking each other in, or simply just wanted a moment to ourselves.

I began to trace the faint lines I could feel on his palms before moving over to the next. Ominis's smooth laughter came soon after, making me look up to gage his reaction.

"Reading palms now, are you?"

"Mhm," I replied, smiling softly. "You want to know what I see?"

"Yes, very much so."

"Okay, I see..." I paused, tracing over a particularly deep line, one that almost felt like a scar. "That you have great hands."

I could see that he was taken aback, but not uncomfortable. A light, red flush soon bloomed on his cheeks, illuminating his blue marble eyes.

"And, that your cheeks will glow with a marvelous red tinge." I added whimsically.

"Stop it." Ominis muttered, a light laugh following his meek words.

"Fine." I relented easily, smoothly dropping his hands before hooking my arm with his. "We have a ball to get to anyway."

It didn't take too long to find our way to the great hall, that had been transformed into an icy yet stunning ballroom. The sounds of the classical were an easy guide for the pair of us.

"There seems to be a lot of people here." Ominis spoke, I could feel his arm tense under my hold.

"Seems too." I replied nonchalantly. "Doesn't surprise me too much, after all, all we've heard about these past few weeks is the ball.

"I just... don't want to bump into anyone."

I took my eyes off of the crowd and back towards him. He looked nervous, unsure of himself.

Can't have that...

"Oh, don't worry about that, you won't." I reassured him, giving his arm a light squeeze. "That's what your lovely date is here for." I added teasingly, bumping my hip against his.

Though the worry was still evident on his face, Ominis had begun to smile. Hopefully I was able to ease his nerves slightly. "You definitely are lovely."

"Hmm, so are you." I complimented, before gently guiding him through the crowded hall. "More than lovely." I grinned as I saw his cheeks flushed again.

"Darling..." Though he sentence stopped once I did, finally managing to find an open enough place to dance.

Wordlessly, I clasped his hand, Ominis seemed to catch onto what I was doing and was quick to glide his hand from my ribs to the middle of my back. My breath became caught in my throat at his touch and my posture straightened.

Don't tense, don't tense... we're just dancing.

"Is this okay?" He nearly whispered; I hadn't even noticed how close we were to each other, as we glided... cheek to cheek.

"P-perfect." The breath that was got in my throat finally escaped as I spoke. "Wouldn't want to be in this embrace with anyone else."

"I don't think you mean that." Ominis stated bashfully, delicately turning us around before we began to glide again.

"I know that I do." I answered defiantly. "I honestly couldn't imagine dancing with somebody else."

"Really?" He didn't sound completely doubtful this time around, honestly, he began to sound a bit humorous.

"Are you doubting my honesty, Ominis?" I asked, trying to match his playful tone.

"No, no... i just think you haven't... considered your options." He replied carefully, trying his best to articulate his words.

"Hmm, let's me think then... Amit? Nice, but no. Garreth? He's nice as well but not my type... and he's definitely into Natty."

"Sebastian?" Ominis chimed in, his face becoming void of much emotion.

"No, I imagine he'd step on my feet all night. That sounds less than pleasant does it not?"

"You have a fair point." Ominis agreed, before a slightly sinister grin took over. "Leander."

I grumbled at the mention of the infamous Gryffindor's name, the vibrations of Ominis's laugh could be felt soon after. "Don't make me retch."

Ominis's hand began rub circles into my back, I began to smile at the sensation, closing my eyes as he began to lull me into relaxation.

But then...

"So, why, would you choose me?" He asked, my eyes opening once again.

"Wh-why are you-"

"I just want to know." He cut me off gently. "It's been baffling to me as to why you chose to go with me."

"Because I know you-"

"You know Sebastian quite well."

"Not in the same way I do you... not in the same way that you know me too." I explained, finding it hard to believe I was starting to be so open about something I was so used to shoveling down.

But I wasn't going to stop now.

"You... you make me feel safe, and I know that I can trust you with anything I come to you with."

"I'm not always the most... understanding with some of the things you've spoken to me about." Ominis argued, as if he was trying to downplay my points.

"And I love how honest you are with me. You don't fill me with false confidence, or some... mindless delusions. You're my voice of reason, my tie to reality."

His grip began to tighten on my, and I could see his jaw begin to tense. "Reality isn't always the sweetest."

"You make it sweet."

He stopped his movements at my words, his eyes shut, and his head lowered, shaking. "Stop it." He muttered lowly.

"Why?" I spoke quietly. "Why do you want me to stop?"

"You don't mean it, you, you can't mean it."

"You know I'm no liar." I stated bluntly. "I mean every word... and I mean it when I say that I love-"

A harsh bump made the pair of us stumble, our hold finally coming apart. My words fell mindlessly, like the many specks of enchanted snow that surrounded us.

"Oh I'm sorry!" A voice spoke, clearly beggining to panic at what they had just done.

"It's fine don't-" The sound of hurried footsteps stop me once again, and I didn't need to turn around to know who they had belonged to. I didn't bother to try and finish my sentence, instead opting to hurry after Ominis before I lost him completely.

That wand really did imprint this place in his mind...

I could hardly keep up with him as he ran through the mostly desolate hall. The only people who were lingering in them were broken hearted girls, and the occasional... handsy couples.

Thankfully, before Ominis could fully disappear from my sight. I managed to see him slip outside into the courtyard. I hurried toward the large double doors, hoping I had the chance to catch him.

"Ominis wait!" I called out, my breath desperately trying to calm itself.

He was at the now frozen fountain, leaning against the stone tensely. "Why are you doing this to me?" He asked through clenched teeth.

I stepped down from the snow-covered stone steps, carefully approaching him. "Doing what?"

"Toying with me like this!" His voice was trembling, and he was clearly upset.

Was I too forward? Did he not take what I was saying seriously?

"Toying with you?" I repeated distantly. "Do you really think I could be that cruel and careless to you?"

He turned his head toward me, his eyes seemingly swimming in emotions he was struggling to contain.

"Ominis, my emotions, what I've said tonight, was never a game. It's real to me and it always has been." I admitted, feelings of vulnerability began to creep in. "I- I honestly, don't know how much blunter I need to be for you to believe me but, whatever it takes I'll do it!"

"Darling," Ominis called out fondly, he took in a deep breath before he continued. Most likely wanting to compose himself. "I'm sorry I... It's my mind toying with me, not you."

I grasped his hands, gripping them in hopes of emphasizing my point. "Well, tell your mind to stuff it." I huffed, Ominis bit his lip, holding back a bout of laughter.

I then laid my head against his chest, and I felt him rest his against mine soon after. "Friends don't act this way with one another, do they?" His voice was deep, vibrating slightly through his chest.

"No... and most don't cuddle by the fireplace or... spend all night talking, not even caring about how exhausted they felt because... they were with each other.

I felt him drop my hands from his before his arms wrapped themselves around me. "I treasured those nights, you know that?"

"Feelings mutual." I spoke against his chest, taking in a deep breath of his cologne. "And I hope they're still mutual when I tell you that I've fallen in love with you, Ominis."

My heart at that point felt like it was about to burst through my chest. But at the same time, it felt as though a weight had been lifted off of it.

I had never felt so free yet so... terrified at the same time.

One of his hands that had been embracing me began to travel up my body. Undoubtably leaving goosebumps in its wake. My jaw was then cupped, and my breath stuttering once I felt his thumb gently tugged on my lower lip. Before gently tilting my head up toward him.

"Definitely mutual." Ominis muttered, his lips tauntingly ghosting over mine. "Is this okay, love?"

We weren't leaving tonight as friends.

I closed the gap that kept our lips apart, and with that action, my breath dissipated with it. But I honestly could care less about that. Not when it was stolen away because of Ominis, not when he every touch of his lips and hands warmed nearly every inch of me.

Not when I found out that he actually loved me too.

He pulled away a bit too soon for my liking. A tremor quaked through my body. And I couldn't tell if it was cause my body was finally aware of the cold. Or if I simply missed the sensation of Ominis's touch.

Ominis attempted to warm me up, rubbing my arms as he pulled me closer to him once again. "Cold? Would you like to head back inside?"

A mindless smile curved my lips, a hazy wave of lovesickness came soon after. "No, being here is perfect... nearly perfect."

"Nearly? What can I do to make things picturesque for you?"

"Just... kiss me again, please."

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hello, I hope you all enjoyed this fic. It was actually a request someone sent in, and I absolutely loved writing it!

Sorry if there were some typos. I tried to proofread it as I went along but sometimes things slip by me. I have another request sent in that I'm going to work on next. But if you liked this one and had an idea of your own. Send it in and I'll gladly take the time to write it for you! Until next time, Illusion.

[p1nkshield]

Welcome esteemed guests to chapter four of my still unnamed fanfic! Please place your suggestions on a name in the comments if you feel so inclined. :)

Bruce massaged the bridge of his nose as he turned on the coms, hopefully one of his family members would have one in right now.

“Team, Constantine will be here in five to visit our guest. Either be in gear and in the bat cave or make yourselves scarce.”

“Understood Father.”

“Why is Constantine coming here?”

“You got it, b!”

Bruce did his best to answer Tim’s question as he surveyed the confiscated items from the self proclaimed guys in white, eyeing the vials of bright green liquid he had yet to finish analyzing.

“The infinite realms sounded familiar to me so I posed some inquiries about it to Constantine. This apparently set off the alarms for him as I attempted to elaborate. Now he’s on his way.”

Bruce made no efforts to hide his exasperation as he headed towards the zeta tube entrance of the bat cave.

Jason sat in a large ornate chair vigilantly as the boy he was tasked to watch slept in the plush guest bed. He looked no older then seven. Who could hurt such a small kid? The thought made Jason sick.

Dick entered the room after knocking gently. “Hey little wing, did you hear Bruce earlier? Constantine is really gunning it over here. We need to either get lost or put on our dominos at least.”

Jason scoffed at the cutesy nickname and made a move to get up until Danny stirred in his sleep. Jason stopped in his tracks.

“Can’t” Jason uttered

“What?” Dick said inquisitively

“Can’t leave him.”

Jason really couldn’t. It was like he was glued to the chair at the bedside of this kid.

Dick looked with concern at his younger brother. “I see… how about this! I will go get your gear and keep an eye on him while you change in the en-suite. That way you aren’t far!”

Jason squinted his eyes at the proposition.

“Jason, I promise Danny is safe here. You don’t have to worry.”

It ended up working out perfectly.

“Hey Disco boy”

“hm?”

“I don’t know what came over me, thanks for not giving me a hard time.”

“Aww you’re welcome mama bird!”

Jason met this teasing with a myriad of expletives that were whisper-yelled at his brother.

“Try not to be a helicopter parent!” Dick laughed as he retreated from the room.

Danny stirred once again as his eyes flitted open. He sat up groggily and surveyed his surroundings. Jason could tell panic was seeping into his veins as he saw his unfamiliar environment.

“Hey, it’s okay”

Danny’s head snapped towards the source of the voice.

“You’re safe” Jason continued “ someone named CW sent you here to heal”

Jason’s soothings seemed to reach him as he relaxed and rubbed the sleep from his eyes.

“Where is he?!? Bats,this could be the catalyst of an inter dimensional war! A war against a people who’s base power set is comparable to Martian Manhunter do you understand?”

“Constantine”

“This literal child usurped Pariah Dark Batman.”

Batman blinked as that name held no weight for him.

“Pariah Dark was a ruler so cruel and powerful that he was banished by his own subjects. The only way for power to change hands is via single combat but no one could do it.”

“Constantine?”

“Until the new king broke him out of his sarcophagus and promptly handed his ass to him! Rumors are that he’s not even full grown yet!”

“Constantine!”

The magic user paused, snapped out of his hasty exposition.

“The boy is still resting and hasn’t woken up yet. In the letter we received we were told that this is the safest place for him to recover. I’m sure that whoever is in charge is doing everything they can to keep the child safe.”

Just as Batman was about to continue to explain how he managed to get in this situation Jason exited the elevator to the bat cave.

“Yes I promise he’s nice. No, he dresses like a bat to scare bad guys.”

Danny who was holding tightly to Jason’s continued to rattle out questions.

“Who is that?” Danny asked as he pointed towards Constantine who looked thoroughly confused.

“This tiny tyke is the Ghost King? Oh come on you’re pulling my leg or something spooks.”

Constantine then addressed the boy

“You defeated Pariah Dark single handedly?”

Danny replied to his questioning with a crinkled look of confusion.

“… Ghost King? …Pariah Dark?”

Realization dawned on Constantine.

“Was he reduced to his core?”

Jason replied with another question.

“Is that why he looked like a fancy rock?”

A beat of silence filled the room.

“I can’t help you with this. Let me know when he remembers enough for me to grovel for the sake of this dimension.”

Constantine made his way towards the zeta tube and swiftly left.

Danny blinked a few times, processing the strange man and his strange questions before letting go of Jason’s hand.

“Where are you headed kid?”

“I’m thirsty.”

“There’s not much in terms of refreshments down here how about we- hey woah don’t drink that!”

It was far too late Danny had phased his hand through the container holding several large ampules of a glowing green liquid. He snapped off the top at the scored break point and began to drink it.

“Danny! Danny spit that out right now!” Jason hurriedly approached.

“Why? It’s good! See?”

Before Jason could protest Danny offered some of his drink to Jason.

Despite his best efforts he smelled some of the unidentified liquid. It smelled … really good. Before he himself or Bruce could stop him, he took a small sip. It was sweet, citrusy and effervescent. He took another sip before finishing the whole thing. It lessened a headache he forgot he had.

“Heeeey! That was mine!”

Jason regarded the boy who looked at him with intense betrayal.

He reached into the containment unit and uncorked another ampule with some effort and handed it to him absently, still confused as to what just happened.

This is the second time this week Bruce has been genuinely shocked by something. He did not like this feeling at all. He looked forlornly at his samples that had just been raided like a fridge. He let out a long sigh.

@boo-ghosties @skulld3mort-1fan @addie-lover-of-stories @isaactheautobot @krzys2000 @ectoradiation @worthlesswall @mewzaque @mnemovoid @phantom-dc @justwannabecat @kitty-page @cutelittlebeanie @meira-3919 @amyheart19 @scarlette-foxx @thegatorsgoose @farmercale

[shitsndgiggs]

A/N: I can’t seem to find the request that you send in @mxryxmfooty but here it is, hope you like it

THE MALDIVES - PAU CUBARSÍ

Pau taking you to your dream destination

Pau Cubarsí x fem! reader

︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿

The warm breeze of the Indian Ocean brushed against my skin as I stepped out onto the deck of our overwater villa. The Maldives—a place I’d dreamed of visiting for as long as I could remember—spread out before me in all its turquoise glory.

I still couldn’t believe Pau had brought me here as a surprise.

He had kept the destination a secret until we were on the plane, his eyes twinkling with excitement as I guessed where we were headed.

Now, as I stood in this paradise, I was overwhelmed with gratitude and love.

As I admired the view, Pau came up behind me, wrapping his arms around my waist and resting his chin on my shoulder. “You enjoying yourself, amor?”

I looked up at him, unable to keep the smile off my face. “This place is incredible, Pau. How did you know this was my dream destination?”

He chuckled, sitting down beside me and taking my hand in his. “I have my ways,” he said, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

I raised an eyebrow, sensing there was more to the story. “Oh, really? You didn’t just guess?”

He shook his head, his grin widening. “Nope, I did a little detective work.”

“Detective work?” I echoed, intrigued. “What did you do?”

“Well,” he began, leaning in a bit closer, “I might have asked your best friend about it. She told me that you’ve been obsessed with the Maldives for years.”

I laughed, thinking about how many times I’d talked about this place with my best friend. “That makes sense. I’ve always dreamed of coming here.”

Pau’s smile turned teasing, and I could tell he was holding something back. “But there’s more to the story, isn’t there?”

I tilted my head, curious. “What do you mean?”

He chuckled again, clearly enjoying this. “Your friend also told me about a little... mistake you made when you were younger.”

I felt my cheeks flush slightly, a memory surfacing. “Oh no, she didn’t.”

I felt a blush creeping up my neck as I realized what he was about to say. “Oh no, she didn’t.”

“Oh yes, she did,” Pau said, laughing softly.

“Apparently, when you were younger, you were so obsessed with this place, but you didn’t call it the Maldives.”

I groaned, covering my face with my hands. “Please don’t say it.”

He gently pulled my hands away, his eyes dancing with amusement. “You called it ‘Cubarsi.’”

I let out a laugh, half-embarrassed, half-amused. “I was a huge Barça fan, okay? And I had the biggest crush on you before I even met you. I was so obsessed that I mixed up my dream vacation with Barcelona and ended up telling my friend I wanted to go to ‘Cubarsi.’”

Pau’s laughter was warm and genuine as he pulled me closer. “I think it’s adorable. You were dreaming about coming here and meeting me, all in one.”

I playfully pushed his chest, trying to hide my embarrassment. “You’re never going to let me live that down, are you?”

“Not a chance,” he said, grinning. “But it just makes this trip even more special. I mean, I had to bring you to your dream destination, even if you called it something else.”

I shook my head, still laughing. “So, that’s why you brought me here? To tease me about my childhood crush?”

Pau’s expression softened, and he cupped my face in his hands. “I brought you here because I knew it was your dream. And because I wanted to be the one to make that dream come true.”

My heart swelled with affection as I looked into his eyes. “Well, you succeeded. This place is everything I ever imagined.”

“And more?” he teased, leaning in closer.

“And more,” I whispered, closing the distance between us.

Over the next few days, we explored the island, went snorkeling in the crystal-clear waters, and even had a candlelit dinner on the beach.

Pau made sure every moment was magical, filled with laughter, love, and a few more teasing comments about my childhood mistake.

As we watched the sunset on our last evening, Pau wrapped his arms around me, holding me close. “So, was it everything you dreamed of?”

I looked out at the stunning view, then up at him, my heart full. “It was even better, Pau. Thank you for making my dream come true.”

He smiled, leaning down to kiss my forehead. “Anything for you, amor.”

[drchucktingle]

mr. dr. chuck, i'm a few months ago i told a doc of mine that i believe i'm on the spectrum (after yeeeears of considering all the reasons why i thought so) and she agreed with me. then i came to some conclusions about members of my family. then i started melting down and haven't really recovered.

i'm in my 30's, but my life feels like it's been the mistake-addled 24th year for over a decade. people, choices, wants, they feel like things that were silly blips and not of much substance. i'm tired and my body hurts, so it feels harder to get to things i need. doctors don't seem like they can be trusted because of all the other ways i show up in the world.

i'm worried about my life and my future, and it feels like my magic is gone (or that i can't touch it right now). do you have any words of wisdom for someone who found out this really big thing about themselves kind of late?

thank you.

hello buckaroo thank you for writing. first of all i will say MOST IMPORTANT thing to remember is that it is okay and valid to FEEL the way that you feel. your reaction to this news or any news really is not wrong. that does not mean you cant wish for another reaction or WORK TOWARDS another reaction, but in grand cosmic sense this is just your way. YOUR TROT IS VALID and we all have our own unique way. sometimes that path is an easy path with sunny days and smiles and a glorious view, and sometimes it is through the darkness of shadows or crawling through the old bog. we can PREFER one path over the other, but neither is WRONG.

when giving advice old chuck tries to not PROJECT what i think YOU should do because that is not really the point. this is your trot to trot and i do not think it is my place to act like some authority of your way. what chuck can do is tell you MY story of diagnosis and how it made ME feel and maybe you can take little pieces of that for yourself.

chuck learned of way on autism spectrum when i was in early twenties by doctor who said 'yes this is your way'. when i learned of my spectrum way my reaction was: wow this is very very cool i am so lucky because all of my heroes are autistic and now i am in this RADICAL CLUB. we are special and unique and DANG what a treat wish i could have a membership card in my wallet to show all my buds.

now obviously this is not everyones reaction, but as starting off point i wonder what it would have meant to my future if the news would have HIT ME IN A BAD WAY. if i would have felt let a dang robot alien who didnt belong. maybe id be swimmin through the bog ever since.

thing is I LIKE ROBOT ALIENS they are very cool. doctor did not MAKE me different, i was different already, our talks just popped a nice little name on it for me to take or leave. i took the name proudly because DATA from stars trek (certified robot alien) is exactly how i already felt and dang what a cool character and dang what a great life. so was DAVID BYRNE. so was every cool buckaroo artist that i liked. cowboys are OUTSIDER HEROES and that is how my autism makes me feel.

so like i said, i do not know about YOUR way, but MY WAY of hearing this news was heaps of joy and excitement. i will also say that it is very DIFFICULT to find this reaction later if your first leap is feeling in a sad way about it. so maybe if you want to trot back in your mind to those first few steps it would be helpful. maybe mentally trot to where you were pushed off a dang cliff and think "well was i pushed off a cliff or was i just told 'hey bud youve been floating this whole time?"'

because if youve been floating then DANG thats a lot of power. thats not falling. you can float up, you can float down, you can float side to side.

the next thing i will say AS AND ARTIST is that years of toiling and feeling aimless are NEVER actually aimless when it comes to creation. and to LIVE in a human body is to be an artist, because you are CONSTANTLY CREATING the future. when i am writing and i dont have an idea for my next book that can be frustrating, but it is also PART of the process. if i walk to the store to rustle up my mind, or wander around the park, or spend a whole WEEK feeling weird because of writers block THAT IS ALL PART OF MAKING GREAT ART. that is not wasted time. in other words, your years of toiling are not wasted time, that is just the process we all have when we are creating a future masterpiece.

[solecize]

  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ  𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐀𝐑𝐌𝐇𝐎𝐔𝐒𝐄 | 𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: every summer on your grandpa's farm was real-life magic to your younger self, who left a piece of her heart in amber valley when the years went on and the town became nothing but a faint childhood memory. soon enough, you become rocked by his death and realize the dead end in your bustling city world. this leads to you making an abrupt decision.

despite knowing nothing but designer purses and the corporate ladder, you uproot your entire life to take over your grandfather's old farm in the town you were desperately trying to remember - alongside a familiar face from your youth that permanently finds his way into your heart.

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: jungkook/reader 𝐓𝐀𝐆𝐒. inspired heavily by stardew valley, friends to lovers, childhood friends, cowboy jungkook, small town alternate universe, slice of life, grief, growing up, mutual pining 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐓. 4.6k 𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒. writing fluff has drained me prepare to only feel pain from this point on

part four: the routine, the posters and the dancefloor  ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ   ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ previous. next. masterlist

 ix. the routine

  like many residents in the town, the saloon eventually became apart of your regular weekly routine. you found yourself in a booth every weekend, not necessarily to wind down with a drink on each visit, but to enjoy the company of those around you. after hitting the commencement of your mid-twenties, you lacked a ‘third place’ and a community you could lean on.

  “can you guys pay attention? this is the call to adventure in the hero’s journey,” yoongi snapped, interrupting a poorly hidden conversation between jungkook and namjoon. the two ceased talking in a way a child caught by their mother would. 

  similarly, the saloon served its purpose as a third place to your newfound friends. you learned about a book club hosted bimonthly by yoongi, which you were encouraged to observe, in hopes that they would gain a new member. there was a regular karaoke night, which jimin was apparently the reigning champion of, with the highest score seen amongst patrons. then, there were people like taehyung and seokjin, who came regularly to just participate and engage in whatever was going on that night.

  hoseok, as the manager of the pub, made every other friday fun with themed nights. tonight was salsa night and apparently, he did not warn yoongi of this, who also did not inform hoseok that book club night was moved.

  “i can barely hear you!” jungkook defended himself, hands in the air. 

  you’d been smiling and nodding the entire time in oblivion yourself, as the rapid dance steps and salsa music drowned out most of your surroundings. at least someone spoke up, you just wanted to be polite in consideration of yoongi’s invite to the club. 

  to your left, seokjin was dancing with mrs. oh, who was the middle-aged lady that owned the general store where jungkook worked. he originally arrived as a member of the book club, but was swept away by the addicting beat of salsa. he’d spent the last 10 minutes trying to convince the group to join in.

  “are you guys done now?” seokjin called out, having watched yoongi shut his book in frustration.

  namjoon nudged yoongi. “let’s postpone today’s meeting!”

  you laughed as yoongi made a dismissive gesture, which was cue for everyone to disperse from the corner that the club occupied. the others stood up, presumably to either grab a drink or join in on the festivities. meanwhile, namjoon tapped your arm when you rose, indicating for you to wait.

  “just wanted to check in to see how the farm’s going,” he began. “you know, our families have been close for years, so you’re basically family, too - even if i wasn’t around much during your time here before.”

  you got a sense that namjoon had his head on straight and while grounded, seemed so much bigger than the town. those around you seemed to respect him a lot. his kind attitude showed you why.

  “it’s a work in progress,” were the only words you could use. “i’m very lucky that my mom was looking over the property after my grandpa passed and even more lucky that jungkook was also looking after it.”

  namjoon’s raised eyebrows as if this was the first time he was hearing about this. “oh, he was? dang.”

  it was kind of sweet to think about - jungkook sneaking around to take care of the place out of the goodness of his heart. amidst that, though, it seemed like there was a lot on his plate, so you brought it up to namjoon.

  “yeah, he has jiwon and jiwon’s a good kid, but she’s still a kid to look after. of course, no one wanted to see her split up from jungkook and she would have likely been sent out of town to be matched with a foster family,” he sighed. 

  a few weeks prior, when jungkook first showed up to your front door to fulfill his promise of helping you fix your windows, is when you first began wondering about jungkook’s home life and where jiwon was. you also learned that day about how selfless he really was.

  summer vacation was in full swing by that june morning, with the sun beating you to a pulp and the only thing on your mind being corn season. that, and the anticipation of a handsome man expected on your doorstep at any given moment.

  your day begun at five a.m, but you made your best efforts to not let that show by ensuring your appearance was kempt prior to your visitor’s arrival. after tending to your morning tasks, you soon received the text that jungkook was at the front, as you were elsewhere on the property. specifically, you were fighting for your life attempting to close the garage shut. yet another repair needed to be addressed.

  hey, i’m out back. give me a few.

  it took twenty minutes out of your morning to shower and change into clothes that didn’t smell like cow shit because you didn’t want to look like a mess in front of jungkook. all for it to get ruined getting sweaty from putting all of your bodily strength into a broken garage door. there was no way you were going to admit you did all of that - though, you did mentally prepare yourself when you sent your reply to his text.

  a few minutes passed and you could make out jungkook approaching you from a distance. you waved, even though you wanted him to stay put and not walk all the way around. the sight of him briefly reminded you of when the two of you used your grandpa’s farmland to play hide and seek, running across the same fields you stood on. 

  “oh, i should’ve warned you about that,” jungkook started, putting a slight jog into his step as he came closer. “that garage door broke just before your grandpa passed.”

  you made an exaggerated, wide-eyed expression. “broken? oh, i was just fighting the door for fun, what do you mean?” you made sure your glare intensfied when he laughed at you. “would have been great to mention before i lost years of my life trying to close this thing.”

  “sorry, bunny,” jungkook replied, as he stepped past you carefully and put a hand on your arm as he did so. 

  he looked up at the door from the inside and smiled thinly. you mimicked his moves, trying to make out at what exactly he was inspecting. you knew farm and you knew finance, but you certainly did not know anything about repairing things. 

  “how did my grandpa get the tractor out if this door has been broken?”

  “crop production lowered in recent years because his body couldn’t handle as much. it was a low priority repair because we used the smaller one parked out by the front shed,” jungkook explained. “honestly, it’s quick fix, just looks like the cable and rollers need to be replaced.”

  you shrugged it off and checked the time. “well, this is a problem for another day.”

  as you began walking off, jungkook followed you with the same pace. you genuinely did not want to have another to-do item in your sight before you were finished with the rest of the day ahead of you. a list dedicated to repairs was an idea that you’d been toying around with, but you were afraid of how overwhelming it was going to be.

  “not to rain on your parade, buuut on my way, i noticed that your coop’s fencing might need to be replaced.”

  it was as if he read your mind. you would’ve been frustrated, but the irony was too funny to ignore. you did notice the fencing and it was definitely already on your hypothetical repair list. as a response, you only grunted and moved along.

  as you led him back into the house, the two of you made small talk. it was still odd to you, picking up a friendship where you left it off from thirteen years ago. the dynamic seemed to ease up, the more time you spent together, but you had to remind yourself that it was indeed thirteen years since you last saw jungkook and that meant thirteen years of catching up.

  “so, are you off work today?” you asked, as jungkook brought in a toolbox from the porch. 

  jungkook set his tools down by the front shoe rack, rolling up his sleeves slightly. “kinda. i don’t really have a set work schedule, i’ve just been helping out mrs. oh whenever she needs me. i did tell her i would be busy this morning, though.”

  you met remembered the oh family from when you were younger and they always gave you and jungkook free ice cream and twenty bucks each when you cleaned their store’s front windows. mr. oh was a high-ranking military general and mrs. oh owned the town general store since taking it over from her mother. their youngest son was born the last year you had visited amber valley as a child. 

  “their kid is old enough to man the front counter, huh?” you joked.

  he chuckled. “yeah. he’s in that weird pre-teen phase, though, acting like he’s cooler than everyone and anything. he used to hang out with jiwon all the time and now his new best friend is his ps5.”

  “aw, poor girl.”

  “right? too bad, hope he grows out of it. you know,” jungkook paused, glancing at the picture on the wall, “they reminded me of me and you.”

  the picture was of you, no older than eight, in faded overalls and the toothiest grin. it was untouched when you moved in and must have been framed sometime after you stopped visiting the town, having not recognized it when you came in. you didn’t have the heart to move it, knowing your grandpa put it up while you were gone. 

you weren’t sure what to say. “i hope she’s a better behaved kid than you were,” you remarked teasingly.

  “i was an angel compared to you,” jungkook shot back, rolling his eyes. “but, yeah, she’s a great kid. hardly gives me trouble. besides, anything i���ve ever needed help with? my friends, the oh family, mayor kim - i got the best support in the world.”

  pride and gratitute were intertwined in jungkook’s voice, as if he watched back the last six years before his very eyes. you couldn’t even imagine what that could have looked like. he was so young, just two months younger than you, and the idea of having the responsibility over a child at your age, much less younger, was unfathomable. 

  you didn’t want to push the subject of jiwon too much, knowing the circumstances, but you were appreciative of how jungkook allowed himself to open up to you. you leaned on the wall, listening to him talk about his little sister and it was clear he loved her very much.

  “you’re lucky to have that kind of community around you,” you said.

  “it’s your community, too, now.”

  you didn’t realize it, but you soon had spent a good chunk of time talking to jungkook, as he began the process of replacing your windows. there were other things you had to tend to outside, but the conversation flowed so naturally. at some point, you brewed a fresh pot of coffee and handed a mug to jungkook, interrupting his installation of what he explained was exterior stop moulding. 

  you were nodding your head, listening to him explain his employment situation with the oh family. “that’s real nice of you.” although jungkook had a very flexible schedule, he essentially helped with the operational portion of the store that mr. oh used to cover before he was first deployed overseas.

  “thank you for the coffee - anyway, they did so much for me when i first started taking care of jiwon, of course i would lend a hand.” he took the hot cup gratefully, cautiously taking a sip. “mr. oh hasn’t always been overseas, but even when he comes back, it’s just my full-time job at this point. they pay well and mrs. oh watches jiwon when i need it.”

  you replied, “if you don’t mind me asking, what were you doing before you worked at the store?”

when you were little, jungkook had always been academically gifted. he loved books and always used to brag about how he got better grades than you did. you always thought he was the type to leave amber valley and find success elsewhere.

  “honestly, there wasn’t really a ‘before,’ bunny. it kinda just went from me being in high school to me having to look after my sister. i worked part-time with jimin’s family when i was a teenager, sorting fish bait, if that’s what you mean,” jungkook was trying to be light-hearted, but you felt bad. 

  he noted your silence and said, “remember when we were kids and we promised to go to the same university when we grew up? and you’d show me the city instead of me showing you the valley?”

  “that was the plan,” you sighed. you nearly forgot about that and you could vaguely recall a pinky-swear being attached to that promise. “maybe there’s a universe where that happened.”

  in a phone call sometime earlier with your mom, she casually joked that she always thought that you and jungkook were going to get married. she and his mom made that bet when you were kids, mirroring the competitive spirit passed down to the two of you. you tried imagining falling in love with jungkook on campus - study dates in the library and sneaking into each other’s dorm rooms, all while being academic rivals in the lecture hall. 

  the man in front of you was neither the jungkook in your youthful fantasies or the little boy that collected seashells with you. nostalgia and daydreaming were dangerous things that couldn’t be trusted. just like you, he grew up. 

  eventually, you declared yourself a distraction and excused yourself from the living room to take care of the rest of your chores. catching up was nice, but you thought it would be better to take it slow. checking in on jungkook every half hour, it was early in the afternoon when he was finished replacing both sets of windows. 

  the sun was still unforgiving and the humidity was no different. the air conditioning system in your house was mediocre at best and there was a stand fan right where jungkook was working, along with two in the living room. you came in to offer jungkook another water bottle when he excitedly showed you his finished product.

  “not bad, huh?” he folded his arms across his chest.

  you observed his work and shook your head, impressed. “more than ‘not bad,’ jungkook. the new panels look amazing - thank you so much. i really, really appreciate it.” 

  it was hard to believe that he installed brand-new windows in such a short time span and the contrast was especially stark, given how old the broken set was. you’d been prepared to pay him for his work, but he warned you earlier that he would “beat you up” if you did so. something about revenge for spending years throwing rocks at him. 

  he grinned, as he began gathering his tools. you were a bit sad, which confused you until you realized why. however, you decided that this unresolved attraction would best be dealt with on a day where you didn't waste almost two hours talking to the man in question. you still ended up deciding this while staring at the way his tattoos looked against his flexed muscles. 

  “so, i’ll come by again for the fence?”

  “wait, what?” this question snapped you back into reality. the fence? you remembered what jungkook pointed out upon his arrival.

  he looked at you, seemingly feigning confusion. “yeah, you said you’d let me fix the fence.”

  “no, i didn’t. are you messing with me?” you narrowed your eyes at the way he slowly blinked at you. 

  “yeah, you said i can come by sometime in the middle of the week.”

  there was no way you promised such a thing. “you brat, when did i say that?”

  the conversation diverted your attention away from the way jungkook quickly bounced up and was opening the front of your door. he waved you goodbye and that he would text you before you could even process it. you made a beeline from the door, but that man was a damn fast walker.

  “have a nice day, y/n!” he yelled from afar and you could hear the laughter jump out in his tone. he knew what he was doing. 

  from that day on, you continued finding yourself in the whirlwind that was jeon jungkook. it’d been a few weeks and about two days in each week where jungkook has paid you a visit with a different excuse of a repair to “help” you out with. though you knew it was bullshit, the crinkle at the corner of his eyes everytime he greeted you at your front door showed that he knew the same.

  there was a silent agreement between the two of you that no one paid attention to when it was just the two of you in the farmhouse. even though you would have refused back and forth had jungkook actually asked if you wanted help, you took anywhere from one hour to a couple just talking to him. one of the times, he insisted he check the condition of your chimney for you. this occasion was more than obvious for the both of you, as you sat on your grandpa’s stiff, old porch bench the entire time and didn’t seem to mind.

  the routine of jungkook helping you out on the farm was getting dangerous. when you packed up all of your worldly possessions and abandoned your old life, you promised yourself that this was a new chapter for yourself. there was never a man in the picture or the end goal and the last person you thought it would be was the little boy that you once called your best friend.

  on the third day of jungkook’s mission to use your grandpa’s property as a level of house-flipper, you made lunch for the both of you. 

  “it’s really not a big deal, i ate before i came here.”

  jungkook was busy smashing a rail into place with a mallet when you approached. you clutched your cardigans a little closer to yourself, as the wind outside took aback. you looked up and silver clouds muddled in the sky. it was hard to tell because of the lack of sun, but it was nearing two p.m. 

  “you came here in the morning!” you huffed, tapping your feet. 

  it was a great deal of confidence in your chest for you to think that no one was more stubborn than you were. as much as you deflected help from jungkook, you were certainly beating his level of persistence. at this point, you would just have to shove food into jungkook’s mouth for you to take it over the top.

  he made an exasperated sigh. “bro, i forgot how annoying you can get.” even though jungkook stood firm with “helping” you with repairs, he was no match for your insistence.

  “let’s go - chop, chop.” your voice was dry, as you took the hammer from his hand yourself. 

  you turned to place the hammer back into jungkook’s tool box when you felt the first kiss of a storm on your bare legs. the sky never lied. you tilted your head up to meet the clouds again, but this time, the rain was sharp and doubled, then tripled. you heard jungkook call out your name from behind you.

  “this doesn’t look good, let’s go,” he said, taking the denim jacket tied around his waist. the cold sensation lightened on your back and you realized it was because he was holding the jacket between the two of you, with his right arm pulling you to his side and his left arm enveloping your body. 

  a clap of thunder interrupted your daze. you wondered if amber valley always stormed like this in your childhood or if you only embraced the happy, sunny parts. the town lived in your memories surrounded by dazzling waters and a rainbow, just like everything else did when you were nine. 

  you tried keeping up with jungkook’s pace, but your legs were failing. “can you slow down?” you panted. 

  jungkook couldn’t help but snort aloud. “if this was a zombie apocalypse, you’d be dead right now.” when you stomped on his foot with intention, he finally relented and slowed down for you, laughing when he did so. 

  the chicken coop was on the other end of the property from the farmhouse, so you were struggling for several minutes trying to make it back. the whole time, you and jungkook continued laughing at one another and cracking jokes. it made you momentarily forget your surroundings of a growing storm.

  the two of you stumbled onto the back porch, up the steps and nearly fell on top of each other. jungkook tightened his arms around you when he saw that you were about to miss a step and you let out a breathy “thank you” through your giggling. he shook his head and dropped his grip when the two of you made it under the gable roof. you shivered when he did so.

  “you didn’t check the weather forecast?” you wheezed, checking to see if your phone was in your pocket. 

  jungkook defended, “neither did you, genius.” 

  you two paused for a moment, before bursting out into laughter again and you looked out to see the unrelenting rain. when you looked back, you wondered if jungkook was standing this close to you the entire time. you also wondered if he could tell that you were trying not to look at the way his wet t-shirt clung to his body. daring to meet his eyes, you nearly choked on your own breath when you saw that he was looking at you, too. 

  his gaze lowered and then he cleared his throat. “well, that’s too bad. i was making good progress,” jungkook also turned to stare at the grey skies and flashes of lightning.

  “i guess you can just come tomorrow.”

  the statement surprised even yourself when it left your lips. jungkook raised an eyebrow at you, before nodding slowly and the corners of his lips quirked to form that charming, gentleman smile. you couldn’t help but turn around to hide your own smile, instead telling jungkook to stop standing outside like an idiot. the agreement was no longer silent.

  x. the posters

  around your newfound friends, the dynamic between you and jungkook never changed. it did leave less room for tension, though, and you saw more of the upbeat, heart-of-gold jungkook that he displayed for the rest of the world. despite that, some caught on faster than the others.

  “if i knew you guys were going to bicker the entire time, i would’ve just asked someone else. seokjin literally offered. or, actually, i’m pretty sure that even jiwon would have been better than the two of you. doesn’t matter if she can’t reach up that high.”

  the day prior, namjoon asked you if you and jungkook wanted to help him put up posters around town for the midsummer fair. it didn’t occur to you to question why he asked you for jungkook’s presence, but you ended up roping him into it anyway. unfortunately for namjoon, the two of you ended up arguing the entire time.

  “but, i’m right. aren’t i, namjoon?” you prodded. “jungkook’s idea is horrible!”

  jungkook shrugged. “why? it’s eye-catching.”

  “there is no way anyone will agree to dressing up as a clown to hand out fliers. we’re going to scare the kids away.”

  “tell her otherwise, future mayor kim,” jungkook said to namjoon, who groaned. 

  the reason why namjoon was tasked with the promotion of the midsummer fair was simply because his father told him to. it was a town event and he was always expected to lend a hand to whatever his dad needed him for. it seemed like every time he had to do something, it was all performed with reluctance.

  “oh, god. don’t start, you have no idea what speech my dad gave to me earlier today about ‘being a leader,’” namjoon shook his head. 

  you furrowed your brows. “oh, are you planning to run for mayor soon?”

  “definitely not,” namjoon instantly responded, not an ounce of hesitation in sight. “i have a master’s degree in fine arts, the last thing i want to do is be a politician.” the laugh namjoon gave was hollow. 

  “what we would all do to not be trapped here,” murmured jungkook and you almost missed it. 

  your gaze met his and quiet smiles were exchanged. there was an air of comfort grounding the two of you, now that you knew the weight behind those words and jungkook’s sacrifices. you did, however, miss the way namjoon caught this shared smile and turned around, keeping it to himself and letting the moment remain between you two only. 

  xi. the dancefloor

  during salsa night at the saloon, jungkook seemed to be in every corner of the room except yours. it had been a few days since you last saw him, with his latest excuse for the farmhouse being chalking on your silo’s roof. you didn’t even know what that meant, but you stopped arguing the same way he stopped insisting that you didn’t have to make him food. instead, you began texting him about what time he was coming, while he began taking leftovers home, since you always “accidentally” made too much food. 

  you and namjoon continued to chat when jimin breezed by, plopping down beside you. he was sitting off to the side of the dancefloor the entire time, lazily sipping a beer and talking to hoseok.

  “because i would embarrass everyone with my moves,” was jimin’s answer when you asked him why he wasn’t participating.

  namjoon chuckled. “he sounds like he’s joking, but he’s an insane dancer.”

  “it sounds like you’re good at everything, park jimin,” you teased.

  “you know who’s not good at anything?” it seemed like this wasn’t his first beer of the night. “jungkook. he’s horrible at pretending to not look at you. you should go up to him, i think he wants something.”

  there was a sense of confusion, but even with jimin under the influence, you also saw the way namjoon leaned back in his seat. it was as if he was relieved that someone other than himself spoke up about it. turning your head, you immediately caught jungkook’s stare, which he retracted like touching fire. 

  you widened your eyes. “is there something on my face?” 

  “no, you’re just a woman that he likes that’s wearing a nice dress,” jimin deadpanned. 

  “you’re a funny drunk, jimin,” you shook your head, chuckling. what he said didn’t even register in your brain. 

  to your side, namjoon only sighed. he stood up all of a sudden, tugging jimin in the opposite direction. you were confused even more. in a second, jungkook appeared in front of you and your words immediately left your body. 

  “book club over?” he asked, scanning the room to where the others dispersed off to. 

  bewildered at the dissolution of the club meeting, you could only shrug. you weren’t sure what even happened. then, you looked up at him and smiled. 

  you said, “jeon jungkook, you’re not going to embarrass me by asking me to dance, are you?”

  “i would never embarrass you. i’m definitely a much better dancer than you, anyway.” jungkook winked and extended his hand, gesturing for you to join him. 

  without missing a beat, you grabbed his hand and got up from your seat. thankfully, the senior community of the town was loving salsa night and made up most of the crowd. you and jungkook were able to hide your horrible dancing in between the retirees going wild.

𝐓𝐀𝐆 𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. @sstrongstyletyle @wobblewobble822@taiwan0618 @seokout @firelcrds @xwniazx