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#i think i get creative bursts at night
pastafossa · 2 years
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Alright! Got the TRT chapter written and some editing done. Hopefully I’ll be able to finish editing tomorrow evening (leaving at 11am and roughly 6 hour drive, will have time tomorrow night), or potentially Monday and Tues night if the editing’s not finished up tomorrow. Breakfast is usually at 8:30am at art camp, followed by ART until lunch, then MORE ART until dinner, and then we’re all done SURPRISE THE TEACHER GIVES ME HIS SHOP KEY EVERY YEAR SO I CAN GO CARVE MORE AFTER DINNER CAUSE I AM A MACHINE.
So we’ll see what I get done. Pre-editing, the chapter was about 4.5k words so I won’t have to edit a mountain at least, and I think I can do it. I’ll let ya’ll know if something changes!
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spdrvyn · 4 months
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thoughts about miguel before i go to bed because i have a sudden creative burst and i need to release it otherwise i'm going to implode, i just love him so much, you guys, it's actually painful
miguel tends to stare a lot. not in a creepy way that has you wanting to put a lock on your face, but the way that he does it just makes you melt. there's nothing more than pure adoration that he has for you, it makes you question a times what exactly is so special that gives his gaze the power to melt you into a puddle.
he usually stops though when you notice. when you ask him about it, he dismisses your claim with a flick of his wrist and a "ah, it's nothing" even though you know damn well that it's something. sometimes, when you two don't say anything, just staring into each other's eyes, you're rewarded with a sweet kiss.
miguel's also big (not just in that way because i know what you're thinking, you whore), it's rubbed into your face basically wherever you go at home. taking off your shoes and leaving at the door only to look down and see a giant's footwear right next to them, getting a stain on your shirt due to a messy outing for dinner and having to wear his gargantuan jacket to cover it has your head reeling.
adding onto that, he is also touchy in the very subtle way that gets you all hot and bothered. barely a few minutes into your morning routine as usual, you can feel the hard contour of miguel's bare stomach press up behind you. his toned arm enters your vision as he reaches for something in one of the high cabinets, morning voice straight into your ear mumbling a small "lo siento" before he walks away and leaves you so dumbfounded.
he'll put a hand on your waist to gently move you aside if you're blocking the way, more unneeded, quiet apologies slip from his mouth and you get so frustrated that you have to resist the urge to just pull him in and kiss the smarts way from him. whenever you two are resting on the couch, rewatching yours or his favorite movie for the hundreth time and you pipe up with a question on what to order for dinner, where he always answers "whatever you want" with a peck to your cheek, where you always end up steaming hot from such a small gesture, all because of him.
remember what i said about mornings? well, miguel is always a treat in the morning. it's every so often that you two wake up at the same time, he wakes up excruciatingly early, while you are normal. though on days where he doesn't have to be up the same time the rooster crows, you are in for a sight.
you just never expected your life with him to be like this. meeting him first as a large, hunkered down, and emotionally constipated man to being so delicate and warm in the more intimate slices of normalcy that you have the privilege of sharing with him.
every line, every detail about him with you just feels so much softer. eyelashes fluttering as he wakes up, lips puffed out from snoring, and natural curls frayed from shifting in his sleep. beautiful. just beautiful.
don't even get me started on his morning voice. for someone that could command a whole battalion if he wanted to, he sounded so gentle. small rasps and utterances of good morning and i love you that squeeze your heart so tight that it could burst.
sometimes he's too lazy to dress up properly when he gets home from a long day of work, he'll slip on a pair of sweatpants and call it a night. you don't mind though, he's even clingier in the morning. immediately moving towards you when he notices that you've drifted a little too far from him for his liking during your sleep, the skin on skin causes you to shiver every time.
he always knows how to make you feel safe, protected, and loved.
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dcxdpdabbles · 10 months
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If possible could you do the Batkids summoning the Ghost King on a dare?
It starts with Tim because most insane things do. Kon had sent him a link to a trend, asking him to try it the next time Young Justice got together.
He made the mistake of clicking on the link while sitting near his siblings in the gaming room. The audio is also on full blast because he didn't realize his headphones were out of battery.
Thus while waiting for his turn to play Mario Kart, a loud male moan echoes from his speakers. Tim freezes in his seat, staring at his phone in horrified betrayal, as seven heads snap in his direction.
"Ugh, Timmy? Those are videos you should be watching alone" Dick says with half a teasing smirk. "I know you're growing up and are curious about-"
"It's not like that! It's a summoning circle!" Tim yelps, turning the phone around. On his screen, five male teenagers sit in a circle, each holding hands. Moaning. The caption reads, "Summoning the Ghost King! What's your offer?".
"What the hell?" Jason squints as the teenagers in the video burst into laughter. They jeer and taunt each other good naturally, indicating the random moaning was in jest.
"Oh, I know that trend!" Cullen chirps from the floor. He's been hugging the bowl of chips all night, laying down on his stomach to keep it guarded from the others. "Basically, you try to summon the Ghost King by offering something random. Guess he doesn't respond to human sacrifices or the typical stuff, so people have been getting creative. I once saw a group of girls who burned their training bras and offered the King the ashes. The point is to pick the weirdest thing you can think of."
"That's the stupidest thing I have ever heard. We have to try it." Steph announces, standing up. She pushes the coffee table out of the way. The rest of their siblings, who weren't as into the speeding game, perked up in interest. "What do we need?"
"Um," Tim scrolls through the comments. "We need four never before lite candles, each placed in the positions of the four directions. We have to sit crossed leg in a circle holding hands and call out to the King with a poem, and at the end, we make our offering."
Harper springs up. "I got some candles! Do they matter if it's scented?"
Tim checks online. "It's not recommended, but it's fine if they are."
"This is idiotic! Attempting to make contact with the Ghost King is far too dangerous. I shall take no part in this foolery!" Damian cuts in, face twisted into a- surprisingly- nervous frown. His hands are clasped tightly over each other while his eyes roam the room looking for unseen threats. If Tim didn't know any better, he said the brat was scared.
"Aw Dami, if you don't want to do a summons, we can play the game of life or something. It's okay to be scared of ghosts" Dick says, placing his hand on the kid's shoulder. He was obviously trying to comfort the kid but it has the opposite effect.
"I am not scared of a mere ghost!" Damian hisses. "I am merely stating we should not bother forces well out of our leagues!"
Jason snorts, planting himself on the ground as Harper returns. She had four different color candles, purple, blue, black, and green. After consulting with Cass- a human compass-she placed them facing the east, west, south, and north.
"Why did you make that disgusting noise Todd?" Damian demands narrowing his eyes at the striking man.
"Just admit you're scared of ghosts, brat. No one is going to judge you for it."
"I said I was not scared of a mere ghost. The Ghost King is far more powerful then-"
"Alright, alright. Damian is too much of a scary cat to play, but who else is in?" Steph cuts him off, a knowing glint in her eyes. The youngest flushes angrily before he marches between the green and black candle and sits with his legs crossed. A nasty scowl is playing on his lips, likely not noticing the high-five Jason and Steph share for getting him to join.
Cass gracefully falls right next to Damian, offering the younger boy a small. His scowl lessens just a little. Cullen crawls his way over, pressing the bowl of chips to his hip protectively once he's sitting up. He ended up between the green and the purple candle, offering Cass a smile. Harper lands next to Cullen, cracking her neck as if preparing for a fight.
Dick does an unnecessary flip over the couch to take the place between the purple and blue candles. Next to him, Steph sits, her knee bumping the blue candle slightly. Jason struts over to sit next to Steph right between the blue and black candle. Duke shares the space with him, giving just a slightly nervous chuckle as Tim and Babs push the black and green candle apart a little to squeeze into though Babs remains in her chair.
"Alright, so the person with the candle on their right side has to light it. Do it at the same time. Once that happens, we join hands and do chat about the poem. Says only one person has to say the words, but if you want, I can send the link in the family group chat so we can all say it?" Tim waits to see them consider it, but Cass excited nodding has him copying the link he found on an online forum. A few dings go around the room as everyone checks their phones. "Now we have to decide on a sacrificial offering."
"We should do our most embarrassing secrets," Jason suggests.
"No, no, our fabulous hair!" Dick perks up, flipping said hair in a dramatic flair.
"It has to be something we all share," Tim says, eyeing Duke's short hair.
The other teenager makes an offended noise. "My hair is fabulous!"
"We offer the gay." Cullen cuts in. The rest turn to look at him as he wiggles his fingers. "Ohhhhhh! We're all fruity~! Spooky!"
"Babs isn't," Dick puts in only to see his best friend shake her hand in a so-and-so motion. He gapes at her before throwing his head back and laughing "We really do flock together!"
"So we agree? The gay?" Tim tries to say seriously, but his lips are twitching too much, trying to suppress a smile. There is agreement around the circle. He gives on a single node before passing around the matches Harper had brought. "How are we going to do this, though. Do we just shout, "I'm gay," or are we giving material things?"
"Let's write our gay awakening on a piece of people," Babs suggests grabbing her bag from where it hands on her chair handles. She tucks out a spiral notebook and a few pens. "I read that summoning needs something physical."
Everyone agrees as they pass along the notebook, writing down their awakening. Tim raises a brow at Damian's "Jon Kent" but doesn't call him out for it. After all, Conner Kent goes under his little brother's writing in his own writing.
He does wonder who Danny Fenton is, but knows better than to ask Cass about her life before the manor.
"Okay, let's do this! On the count of three- one-two-three!" Tim calls, watching Damian, Harper, Steph, and Duke simultaneously lite at the candle. They all hold hands, reading off phones that are prompted up by either their legs or kickstands on cases.
"We call upon the Undead King,
The one who bridges the realms,
The one who wields the Ring,
The one who will lead dies and breathes!"
There is a moment of silence where Tim swears he feels a slight shock along his fingertips, but it passes too quickly for him to care. Seeing as he is the ring leader, he calls out to the air. "Oh great King of the Dead, my siblings and I offer you a list of our gay awakening!"
"Stop, stop!" The youngest yells, leaping to his feet. His eyes are wild, scrambling to a far wall like a cornered animal. "No! He's coming!"
"Coming out the closet, like mama, I like boys, I like pecs
Like the arms when they flex!" Stephs suddenly sings, swaying in her seat. Everyone laughs before joining, and Tim wonders if they should have recorded this when suddenly Damian shrieks.
"Damian, who-"
The candles' flames all turn green as a haunting voice echoes through the room. "Your sacrifice has been accepted."
Tim's mouth drops open as the flames rise into the air forming a portal of liquid green. Familiar green. No wonder Daimain had been so scared. That was Lazarus Pit water. This meant this was the real deal, not just a random trend popularized by stupid teenagers.
Leaping Lizards Batman.
"What-what do we do!?" Cullen yelps as a burst of wind rips around the room, throwing everyone back. A laugh that sounds far too much like the Joker is heard through the portal as everyone tries to get into a fighting position with the wind pushing against them.
A head of snow-white hair peaks out and they are greeted by a laughing teenager. "A gay awaking sacrifice list! That's hilarious!"
"Who are you!" Tim hears Jason demand over the howling wings.
Another laugh, but this time, it sounds like clicking ice cubes is a response. "I'm Phantom!"
Tim has a second to see, wide green glowing eyes before the ghost reaches down, snatches their list, and zaps away.
Cass falls to her knees with a look of horror. "They know"
"I told you this was idiotic!" Damian screams, shaking so hard he looks like he will burst into tears in only a few seconds. Dick rushes over to him, pulling the sniffing boy into his arms. "We must never do this again!"
No one knows what to do in the wake of actually succeeding in calling the Ghost King or watching Dmaian cry from fear.
A ringtone plays from Cass's phone, breaking the ill silence. Tim catches a glimpse of "Danny" with two little hearts before his sister grabs the cell and leaps through an open window with what could only be a squeal.
"What the fuck just happened?" Cullen asks, but Tim can only offer him a shrug.
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hunnylagoon · 4 months
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Right Where You Left Me
Pt 2: Jailbird
Ellie Williams x reader
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I want to write a poem about you but I’m afraid it won’t be enough. I almost feel ashamed that I want you to fit into a word because we both know that you are beyond anything that can be put on paper.
Premise: You and Ellie were childhood friends before you drifted apart. Funny thing about soulmates is that they tend to find there way back to each other. While you both visit home for winter break, events unfold and it is no longer possible to avoid each other.
Warnings: Angst / homophobia / brief violence / reader has religious issues
Part one here!
Part three here!
Part four here!
I may have been wrong to say that I could never hate Ellie. Fuck she was vicious, in the most passive-aggressive way too. She's so sly about it that I can't even get mad without seeming irrational.
Winter break finally rolled around and I had yet to make any progress with Ellie it was whatever the opposite of progress is. If she wanted to hate me, that was fine, I could do the same, I could be petty. It's now December and all of this bullshit started in September, she could hardly be courteous.
Fuck her.
I had survived mid-terms and finals but the way Ellie was acting had me skipping happily towards the edge. She will wash a whole sink of dishes and leave just my fork, or Venmo request me if I ate one of her grapes. Everything had gotten worse when Dina, Abby, and Cat all left to visit their families for winter break leaving just Ellie and I, without the girls there to hold us to the house rules we were at each other's throats.
She was foaming at the fucking mouth to tear me apart. There was no level-headed Abby or fun-loving Dina, not even Cat who was just mellow. Just me and Ellie verbally abusing each other. "Fuck off, with your wild animal teeth," I spat, slamming the dish cupboard closed with a loud thud.
"Wild animal teeth?" She repeats "Wow, you're getting creative, I'll give you that," Ellie's gaze held a certain bitterness "Heard you were on your knees again last night and I don't mean praying."
My eye almost twitches at her words and it takes everything in me not to throw a ceramic bowl at her. I hated her, I hated her freckled face, and eyes as sharp as knives, just hearing her raspy voice, and seeing her sardonic smile made me want to keel over and let the earth wrap me in her flourishing greenery. I often wanted that to happen. I was trying to refrain from going home as I didn't want to spend the entire break with my family but I was starting to think nothing was better than this, I was set to leave the following day (Christmas Eve) anyway but I was seconds away from grabbing my bag and jumping into my car. "Can you just learn to be fucking civil?"
"Why would-
"Because we were sixteen years old when that stupid shit happened!" I spat "You're holding a grudge from when we were sixteen," I reiterated, searching her features for some sign that I'd gotten through to her.
"It's not like you've changed since any of that happened." She stands, unnervingly calm on the other side of the kitchen island. "You were always awful since we were young, always crying, always emotional, always explosive, my dad said you're like a birch tree, one spark and you burst into flames."
"Fuck off."
"You always had to have the attention," Her eyebrows furrow "Nothing was your fault, blame being fucking erratic and insane on your parents."
"You don't know my parents half as well as you think you do."
"What don't I know about them? They've been in my life as long as you have."
"Ellie, stop," I say, suddenly I'm taken away from the mood to fight, I just want to scream into my pillow.
"What?" She asks "You're going to say some shit like 'they aren't loving'  or 'you wouldn't get it' Please, enlighten me, what wouldn't I get?" She moves closer just an inch or so "Wow, your life sounds so hard, you have two parents who love each other and a huge fucking house, oh shit," Sarcasm drips from her tone "Maybe it's that trust fund that's taking a toll on you."
"Please, stop."
"You could commit every crime known to man and you would still be their pride and joy, there is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you-
"Here we go with your 'life is so fucking hard and I'm edgy and indie and I have a sad backstory that I'll bring up every second sentence even though I was seven when it happened' " I mock her.
She bites the inside of her cheek and I can tell that I've struck a nerve "You know when my lease-
"Don't even worry about it," I move out from the kitchen and begin towards my room, Ellie's eyes are trailing me "The minute my lease is up, I'm packing my shit and moving into student housing so I won't have to look at your fucking face while I'm eating!" I slam my bedroom door behind me.
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I left that night, I couldn't bear the sound of her guitar strums, so repetitive it made me want to slam my head through the drywall.
You better believe that I cried my entire way home while blasting Julien Baker. My mother was pleasantly surprised to see me at her doorstep a day early, I knew Ellie would be coming down sometime tomorrow to spend the Holidays with her family, I didn't know when, I just knew that I didn't want to see her.
I never even told my parents that Ellie was my roommate and they hadn't heard it from Joel as they drifted when Ellie and I were fifteen.
My bedroom was exactly how I left, I cuddled into my twin bed that night sinking into the absolute silence of the the snowfall, with my dog Dusty curled at my side. I always loved the snow, the way it acted as soundproofing for the earth, when I was little I would just sit in the backyard so I could hear the birds sing in their purest and truest form.
Christmas Eve was dull to begin with, to say the least; my mom made Christmas tree-shaped waffles as she did every year, I was then dragged to an excruciatingly long church sermon. When we returned home I was sent to shovel the driveway, turns out visiting home from college doesn't excuse you from chores. I knew Ellie had arrived when I saw her grey sedan in Joel's driveway as well as Tommy's Range Rover. Bundled up in mittens and a hand-knitted scarf that Naomi gave to me I felt really tough giving the middle finger to Ellie wherever she was in Joel's house.
"What the fuck are you doing?" Elijah was cackling in the doorway. Dusty I happily bounding through the snow, paying to mind to my brother.
I immediately dropped my arm, trying to play nonchalantly "Uh, shoveling the driveway?"
His laughter only grew "You look so stupid," He huffed between cackles "You're standing in a foot of snow in the driveway giving Mr. Miller's house the middle finger in your cute little mitts."
"Say that louder, no one could hear you," I say, sarcastically.
"Hear ye, hear ye-
My eyes go wide and I drop the shovel to form a snowball and deck it at my brother "Shut up!"
"Ow!" He flinches, and his track and field hoodie from high school is now covered in powdered sleet. "Whatever," He yanks his hoodie off to shake the snow off of it "Just finish the driveway so we can watch a movie or something, I haven't seen you in months, Naomi and Aaron haven't shut up about you all holiday break."
I give him a mitted thumbs up before I try to speed run the shovelling, albeit slipping on black ice more than a few times. When I came back inside, I needed to change, my parka was dripping with snow that had melted into water.
I bundle up into sweatpants and an old soccer t-shirt. Being in my old room digs up memories pinned on my wall with bright thumbtacks year after year of photos of my soccer team, in every single one Ellie and I have our arms slung over each other. We're smiling wide and not focusing on the camera but on one another. I tear the picture away from the thumbtacks and throw them into a random shoe box that sits at the bottom of my closet. After that, I take down every artifact I have of Ellie, the drawings she made me, drafts of songs we wrote together, and t-shirts she left in my drawers, I throw it all into a Rubbermaid storage bin.
Though I leave the little wood carvings that Joel made for me alone.
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My family's famous Christmas Eve dinner rolled around and I couldn't believe how excited I was, I'm not the best cook and despite me and my mother going through spats every other day, she was one hell of a good chef and I had spent months craving her honey roasted carrots and creamy mashed potatoes.
Please don't judge me when I say this, but we are the family that dresses up for dinners at home. Nothing black tie, just something a little dapper, one time I wore jeans to our family dinner and I was grounded for a week.
I finished zipping up my white sundress and I let my little sister tie a matching bow into my hair, when she saw what I was wearing she changed into her white dress which was ankle length while mine fell right above my knees.
"Oh, my sweet girls are matching again," My mom fawns over us "Let me get a picture of this cute little moment," I smile for the picture, and Naomi does the same, hooking an arm around my midriff. "Adorable," Mom looks at the picture before tucking her phone into her pocket "Now girls, please set the table."
Even though I hadn't been at home for months, setting the table was like muscle memory to me, Naomi put the placemats down, and then I did the dinner plate and salad plate, Naomi would place the napkins and cutlery then I would set glasses and pour everyone water from the pitcher. By the time we finished setting the table everyone aside from my mother and Elijah were at the table, early awaiting what was sure to be a filling dinner.
Slowly but surely my mom brought the dishes with Elijah, placing them all through the center of the dining table. After everything was placed my father, who sits at the head of the table cleared his throat, that was his signal for everyone to join hands. "Dear God, We gather today with grateful hearts to thank you for this food before us. We appreciate the effort and resources that have provided us with this nourishment. May this meal sustain our bodies and remind us of the many blessings in our lives. We are thankful for the love of family and friends who surround us and for the abundance we enjoy. Bless this food, our time together, and those who prepared it. May it strengthen us physically and spiritually. This is your body, this is your love. We thank you for feeding us with your gracious hands. In Jesus' name, we give thanks and pray. Amen."
"Amen," My family repeats before we all ravishingly fill our plates with chicken, maple-roasted mushrooms, buttered green beans, bread rolls, and mashed potatoes. I was eating so fast, I was shocked that I didn't spill anything on myself.
"So, have you met any cute boys at college?" My mother asks me, she is the only one eating politely "I'm sure you could get a real smart guy with those looks of yours."
My father nods "Just make sure he's Christian."
"Or catholic," My mother adds.
I laugh awkwardly in response, I take a sip of my water, the condensation making it slippery in my hands. Elijah gives me an odd look that goes unnoticed by my parents.
"I think we should drop off some bread or cookies or something to the Miller's, just something to say hi while Tommy and Maria are still there." My mom tells us, she isn't speaking to anyone in particular.
"Is Ellie there right now?" Aaron asks.
Elijah shrugs "Probably, her car is in the driveway."
Now Naomi is looking at me "We should invite her over for New Year's or something if she's staying for the rest of break."
My dad shakes his head "I don't know if that's a good idea," All eyes fall on him "It's just- I think she's a bit of a bad influence." He takes a swig of his wine and attempts to suppress a burp but fails. I press my lips into a thin line and look down at my plate to hold in my laughter, Elijah does the same beside me.
"I don't remember Ellie being a bad influence," Aaaron furrows his eyebrows, racking his brain to think of a time that she had done their family wrong.
"It's just that there were rumours of her having-" My father searches for the words "Unnatural tendencies I suppose, and I tried to talk to Joel about it but he got defensive and said that she didn't need fixing, that's how I lost my best fishing buddy."
My mom looks at the discomfort on all of her children's faces "I mean, we all need a bit of fixing."
Dad is quick to catch on "Oh, yeah, of course, I mean it's not just Ellie," He fumbles over his words "And it's not her fault that she's that way, I think It's because she lost her mother when she was young so she got confused about the parental roles, Joel never remarried and he didn't date around much so Ellie didn't have a proper mother figure, it's not her fault she's a dyke and there's still time to fix it if she wants to choose the right path."
Stillness falls over the table, I had never heard silence quite this loud. Even my mother is at a loss for words. All of my siblings are darting our eyes at one another, we don't utter a single word but we understand each other clearly 'Dad actually said it'.
He noticed this and tried to backtrack on his words "I'm not a bad guy, I mean we've all read the bible cover to cover, we know it's a sin. I'll wrap this up, you all know that we love you no matter what and all I'm saying is I'm glad we could distance ourselves away from it."
"Hey Dad, did you watch the Canucks game last week?" Elijah swoops in to change the topic. It's too late, a wave of sickness has already overtaken me.
While my family discusses nothing in particular, trying to ignore what Dad said, I am sick to my stomach, I push my plate away and prop my elbow the the table for my hand to support my head. I am nearly shaking. My dull eyes peer across the table and meet my father's drowsy gaze.
"Honey, are you feeling alright?" My mom pauses whatever conversation she is enwrapped in.
I don't respond, I don't know how.
My family's eyes find a resting place on my figure. Mom pushes herself away from her chair and walks over to me, she places one hand between my shoulder blades, the other takes my cold hand and she slowly rubs a circle on my back to comfort me. "Sweetness, whatever is repressed inside, say it, let it out, we're all family."
Naomi nods in agreement, her wide eyes full of concern. "I don't know how to say it," I tell them.
"Air it out," My dad says, finishing off his glass of wine and pouring himself another "Today is the perfect day, tomorrow is the birth of Jesus, a fresh start."
My heart is racing faster than it ever has before, faster than when I broke my wrist in Ellie's backyard or when I had been on a rollercoaster for the first time. "I like girls," I say, my voice is quiet, and my three words take my family with silence. My mother freezes and takes a step back, her comforting hands leaving me.
"You're joking," My dad scoffs "Tell me this is a joke and you're normal."
"I can't," My voice cracks and I can already tell that the tears are oncoming. I think briefly back to Ellie's words 'There is nothing you could say or do that would make them hate you' if only she could see what was about to happen.
"All of those sleepovers with Ellie?" He is disgusted, his face contorting with horror "Were you dating her?"
"no-
"How can I believe anything you say, you lied to us for nineteen years when you knew you were sick."
"Dad, I'm not sick-
"How many sinful acts have you done under this roof?"
"None, I swear," I shake my head, it took less than a minute for me to be filled with regret at my words. I shouldn't have even come home for the holidays, actually, I never should've found Dina's listing and jumped at the deal.
"Get out," Any light tone in my dad's voice is gone, replaced by pure resentment.
"What?"
"You heard me, get out."
"Dad, it's Christmas Eve-
"Get out!" His voice rumbles through the dining room like thunder "I thought we fixed this phase when we sent you to boarding school."
"Please, dad-
"Get up and get out or I'm going to make you,"
"Fine- make me," Tears prick in my eyes but I cross my arms trying to muster up that false coolness Ellie is so good at feigning.
My dad slams his glass down so hard that it shakes the table, and the partially empty wine bottle my parents had been nursing all night is knocked over by the abruption, tipping over the deep red liquor to travel down the tablecloth and drip onto what was once my pure white dress. "Get up!" He grabs a fistful of my hair and I scream from the shock of pain. He yanks me off my chair and my face slams against the hardwood when his arm slumps, impact heavy from the sudden drop, it doesn't take long for my nose to start bleeding. He drags me to the door pushing it open; my siblings don't do anything they're petrified in horror and my mother begins to cry, covering her eyes from the scene before her.
My dad doesn't stop at the door, I thrash on the ground and he pulls me over both of my hands trying to pry his away from the roots of my hair, he drags me into the snow, finally releasing me. I shake as my hand gently finds the way to my burning scalp where I fully believe he has pulled out clumps of my hair with his harsh and unforgiving grasp.
From the doorway the rest of my family watches, Naomi has a hand covering her mouth her doe eyes brimming with tears of her own. My father disappeared into the house, it didn't take long to see what he was doing he slammed the window to make the bedroom open and began to throw all of my belongings out of the window. My pictures, my old soccer uniform, armfuls of clothes from my old beaten dresser, candles, books, paints, and shredded posters were torn straight off my wall.
"Dad, stop, I'm sorry, I'll get better!" I am on my knees, hands clasped together pleading with him. My skin is burning from the contact with the snow, I know that it must be a horrific sight to behold. White sundress, stained with wine, tangled hair, red-tinged skin, puffy eyes and incoherent sobs.
The snow makes everything so quiet the only sound travelling through the night are my sobs. I can no longer see my father in my bedroom, he is coming back down and somehow that is worse, he pushes past my family and throws the presents I was supposed to receive on Christmas morning beside me, I flinch at the movement.
"I'm sorry!" I plead like I'm bargaining with the Grimm Reaper for my life "Give me a job and I'll do it, just tell me what to do to get better!" The screaming carries through the night, alerting the neighbours in what was supposed to be a calm and quiet neighbourhood. Across the street, Joel turns on his porch light, squinting his eyes at the scene on the opposing lawn and trying to make sense of it. "I want to get better!" I shake with every sob. I could hear my dogs barking from the loud noises.
My dad shakes his head "You're too far gone, I didn't raise a fucking dyke," He is almost crying himself, he doesn't mourn for the daughter that he has but the daughter that could've been. The daughter who donned white every Sunday for church and settled down with a nice family man, a daughter who was holy but in this moment I am the purest form of holiness, born again from the violence of my father.
"Dad, I was created in God's image, why would he create his child to be this way if it was so wrong?"
"You're a fucking mistake is what you are," He seethes "Get off my property or I'm calling the cops."
"You still have my bags!" I scream and I watch him retreat to get them "Are you going to do anything at all?" I search my family for any sign of life but they all avert their eyes from mine. My father comes back out, and he throws my purse and suitcase on the lawn, this time both of them hit me, talking about kicking someone when they're down.
My dad begins to usher the family inside "I never want to see you again, get your ass up and start working, I'm not paying for you to fuck around with women instead of getting an education."
"That's it?" I cry "You won't come to my wedding or meet my kids? What about my funeral?"
"Not as long as you're with a woman." With that, he slams the door behind him and locks it. I let out another guttural sob, I've already cried so much that it's beginning to hurt within my stomach. I take a deep and shaky breath in, wiping the tears away from my eyes with my freezing hands, I'm sure to catch hypothermia if I don't warm up. I look up to see my neighbours all around either watching from their window or in the Miller family's case, the front porch. I'm sure that someone has already called the police.
"Let me in, I'm sorry!" I scramble off the ground and begin to bang on the door. Shaking the handle "Let me in!" This goes on for longer than I would've liked, I hammer on the door and scream as loud as I can but they all ignore me. Eventually, I stand by the window and slam my hands on it "Let me in or give me my fucking dog, you can't take care of him!"
I knew I was fucked when I heard sirens. It only made sense for the neighbours to call the cops at this disturbance.
I'm going to do you all a favour and tell you some useful information; when the police arrive and you don't wanna seem guilty, don't try to drive away from the scene because you might just end up getting handcuffed and shoved into the back of a police car for your childhood bestfriends family to watch from their front row seats.
"Prison life isn't for me," I wallow as I press myself against the bars of the holding cell. There are two other women in the cell with me and they both snigger. One of their names is Lucia, and she has bronze skin and brown hair so dark that it almost looks black with gold hoop earrings the size of my head, I don't know the other woman's name but she looks significantly older and has stringy blonde hair, the wrinkles of her face drooping.
"Honey, this isn't prison, you'll live another hour," Lucia sits on the uncomfortable bench, her arms crossed, she's kind of hot to be blunt.
"You reek of liquor though," Blondie cackles and I catch a glimpse of her rotting yellow teeth, what's the opposite of pearly whites? Golden nuggets? Something like that.
"Because I got wine spilled on me," I retort. I had been crying before they even placed me in the cell, wailing so loud that I was annoying the officers. I was so upset and starved for affection that I hugged the officer who detained me, babbling incoherently about how my life was ruined, I don’t even blame them for arresting me, I looked like a crackhead trying to break into a nice suburban home. “I'm not drunk."
"Could've fooled me," Lucia smirks, she's wearing a black tank top and skinny jeans. I wasn't a fan of skinny jeans but she was converting me.
I fell asleep hugging myself on one of the uncomfortable metal benches with chipped blue paint, when I woke up, it was Christmas, even though it didn't feel like it. I saw the snowfall outside of the windows on the other side of the cells. Lucia had told me just before she was released that they had the right to hold you longer over holidays, I wanted to weep all over again.
Blondie got removed from the cell too and I was all alone. The only thing that kept me sane was pretending I was Katniss or Lucy Gray, if they had survived the Hunger Games, I could survive this. I genuinely thought my life was over and I was getting sent to prison for hammering on my dad's door and screaming.
With each hour that ticked by, my profound sense of loneliness only grew. The sounds of distant laughter flitted through the hall and I am reminded of the world that lies beyond the metal bars. I wonder what my family is doing at this moment, every voice that I hear acts as a reminder of the love I had jeopardized. I lost Ellie, I lost Conner, and now I had lost my family.
I think about praying to god for a moment though I discard the thought. If he was real why did he let that happen to me? Maybe forgiveness and redemption were not necessary.
"Crybaby, call someone to pick you up," Officer Reid who initially arrested me and interrogated me began to unlock the cell, "Charges are dismissed." He had been calling me Crybaby since I was stuffed in the back of the police car and wailing uncontrollably.
"Like for real?"
He was in fact, for real. I was brought to a landline phone and my hands acted faster than my head, dialling the number of someone I would trust with my life, I just prayed that the number hadn't changed.
After making my call I was told to go to a weird booth thing to collect my effects, where an old and very judgmental woman dumped my few belongings out of an envelope. I wish I knew the technical names for this stuff but it's not like I've been arrested before this one off occasion. She looked at each of the items, stating what it was while she took inventory of it. "Smartphone, lipgloss, a single gold earring, and a cross necklace," She marks something down and then turns the paper around and holds out a blue pen for me to take "Sign here."
My phone had died already, I was missing an earring, and the cross had failed me, all I had left to rely on was my cover girl lipgloss. I sat in that stark grey room for what seemed like hours, everyone seemed miserable as I am, at least I wasn't the only person having a not-so-merry Christmas.
Holy shit, I was still disgusting. I was sticky and freezing, still in the wine-ruined white dress, there was still dried blood on my face despite my pestering Lucia to help me get it off. My hair is tangled, the bow that my sister had tied in lost somewhere in the snow. I haven't looked in a mirror but I know I look rough from the side glances that everyone is casting me. I can't imagine the dark bags beneath my red, puffy eyes to be any sort of appealing.
The sterile waiting room is beginning to get on my nerves, I flinch at every movement and hold onto hope that every person walking through the door is the person I'm waiting on. I try my best to avert my eyes from the clock so time doesn't drag on any longer than it already is.
By the time Joel gets here, the sun is beginning to set, his eyes frantically search the room until they land on me, I'm already standing up and walking toward him. "Kiddo, are you okay?"
My lip quivers and it feels like every awful thing I've ever felt is going to seep through my teeth. My head falls onto his chest but this time I don't cry, I think I've run out of tears "I have nothing ahead of me."
Joel doesn't ask questions, he just hugs me in return, resting his chin on the top of my head, there is the comfort I had been so desperately searching for.
He signs release papers and he guides me to his red Ford Explorer. When I called him I asked him to bring me shoes as I was barefoot when I was detained, being the number one dad that he was, he brought a reusable grocery store tote bag, containing a hoodie, sneakers, fuzzy socks, sweatpants and a bag of my favourite chips. I slip the sweats on underneath my dress while the hoodie goes overtop, I awkwardly unzip it and shimmy it off, stuffing it into the tote bag.
The drive back to his house begins and he turns on the radio, trying to make lighthearted chatter "Thanks for coming to get me," I say, my voice is quiet and I pull my knees to my chest like as I tend to do when I get nervous "You can just drop me off at my car and I'll be out of your way."
"Sorry, kiddo," He says, eyes focused on the road "You're staying with me tonight, I don't want you driving these roads in the dark and it'll be good for you to have a hot shower and a warm meal, get some sleep somewhere that's not a holding cell."
"It's just that-
"If you still want to leave in the morning that's up to you but you shouldn't end your Christmas alone," Each word seems so genuine "And you know I would gladly have you stay with me three hundred and sixty-five days a year."
I look at him, a soft melancholic smile on my face, "Thank you," I say.
"Do you wanna talk about it?"
A sigh falls from my lips "What happened to all of my stuff that was left on the lawn?"
"Tommy and Ellie brought it all inside."
Ellie brought it back inside? Did she actually give a shit or was this something her dad ordered her to do? "Did my dad say anything to you?"
Joel shakes his head "Maria went barging on his door, those two were in a screaming match for a good two minutes before he locked the door on her. Hasn't been outside since, everyone in the neighbourhood has been coming by to ask what happened."
"Even Sharron?" I ask Joel, wrinkling my nose in distaste.
"Even Sharron," He solidifies. Sharron was the grouchy crone of the street, shutting down every party, cussing out teenagers from her porch, and yelling at barking dogs "She said she was worried about you." The windshield wipers painted rhythmic patterns across the glass, clearing a path through the soft snow that continued to fall.
"She's not worried about me, she's worried I'm on drugs and I'll break into her musty home to steal all of her hummels."
Joel huffs a laugh "I can't believe that I used to let her babysit you and Ellie."
"Me neither, you should be paying for my therapy." I tease.
He chuckles at my words, "So you're majoring in wildlife biology?"
"You remembered what I wanted to major in?"
"Of course I did."
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"Hey, Mookie!" Tommy wraps his arms around me the moment I set foot in the door. He's called me Mookie since I was a little girl, it started when I couldn't pronounce monkey and thus Mookie was born. "Let me get a good look at you," He pushes me back just the slightest hands clasped on my shoulders "Look at that bruise you've got on your cheek, looking awful tough, like those greasers you used to read about."
"Look at that, Mookie grew up," Maria greets me with a warm smile, pushing Tommy away to hug me "Good to see you made it through prison alive," She jests.
Joel's house is exactly how it was when I left.
The air carried the familiar scent of firewood and lavender incense. In the living room, an inviting fireplace stood as the heart of the home. Its gentle crackle and the dancing flames provided a soothing backdrop to the overstuffed couches adorned with cozy blankets and throw pillows, worn from years of shared family movie nights. A well-loved rug covered the wooden floor, its pattern a mosaic of memories and spills easily forgiven and of course, a coffee table hand-crafted by Joel and intricately carved.
The shelves lining the walls were a treasure trove of family history. Photographs in mismatched frames captured smiling faces frozen in time, chronicling the evolution of Ellie through the years. A collection of well-read books, their spines creased and pages worn, stood proudly, offering a glimpse into the literary adventures that had unfolded within those walls.
The kitchen, the heart of many childhood homes, held the lingering aroma of Christmas dinner. The countertops, scarred from countless meals prepared and shared, were a testament to the love that had gone into creating family dinners. A worn wooden table in the center of the room bore witness to the countless conversations, celebrations, and moments of solace shared over shared meals.
"You know what, when I was around your age, I spent my fair share of time in the cooler, good to see you're taking after me," Tommy winks and gives me a hard pat on the back. Neither of them acknowledges the reason behind last night's events and somehow it feels worse than talking about it.
"We've just finished up making dinner, I'm sure you're hungry," Maria smiles softly, taking my hand into her calloused one.
"Yeah, I'm starving," I smile in return and trail behind the blonde woman to the dining table.
All of the plates are laid out with portions of food on each one, Ellie is sitting alone, spooning mashed potato into her mouth while she texts someone, she glances up at me and offers nothing more than a tight-lipped smile and awkward wave before going back to her phone. Tommy comes by with a tray of garlic butter rolls and uses tongs to add more onto my plate "Don't think I've forgotten how much you love these."
I grin up at him, I'm sitting in the same chair I sat in all those years ago when I Ellie and I would settle down after spending all day in the sun, Joel would ask us what we wanted for dinner and almost every time we would shout hotdogs.
"Good to have you back," Joel nods to me "House always felt a little empty without you."
I always felt a little empty without this house "Good to be back," I smear some mashed potato onto Tommy's famous garlic butter bread rolls.
I feel almost sick with nostalgia as I look around the dining room, Joel still had Ellie's crafts from elementary school hung up and if you look closely, you find little clues that I've left behind; proof that I once existed as a girl beneath this roof. There's a dent in the wall from the time I stood on my chair to catch a spider and accidentally fell over, my head hitting right into the wall, Ellie was laughing too hard to help me.
"So what school do you go to?" Maria asks me, washing down her pot roast with some ice water.
"Northridge actually," At my words, Ellie's head perks up, she's looking dead at me with a look of fear in her eyes.
"Oh, Ellie goes there!" Tommy smiles "She never mentioned that you do too."
Ellie is silently pleading with me, I know she doesn't want me to tell her family that she's been borderline tormenting me as my roommate and sending me to bed with tears in my eyes. I didn't plan on telling them anyway "That's funny, I guess we just keep missing each other."
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Joel set up an air mattress in Ellie's room, that's when it became clear to me that he had no idea just how bad the fallout was between us. I hate to say that I missed her room and all of the memories we shared in it.
Ellie's bedroom resembled something of a teen guy who'd never gotten laid before. She had a navy comforter, her shelves were lined with comics and novels, I know for a fact that she'd read every single one of them. Her desk was always a mess, covered in pages of poetry and sketches that she had torn out from her journal. Almost every inch of her walls is covered in posters of bands, movies and her nerdy video games.
I was fresh out of the shower, finally in my clean clothes that I had dug out of my suitcase. I got to charge my phone too, there was an overwhelming number of messages.
D-Manz: HAPPY CHRISTMAS BITCH!!!!!!!!! I LOVE YOU AND CAN'T WAIT TO PARTY WHEN WE GET BACK
Jesse: Merry Christmas, hope your day isn’t shit! 😁😁😁
Riley: Merry Christmas! Hope you're having fun at your new school!
Abs: Merry Christmas and stay safe!
Kayla: Missing you girl ☹️ so excited for that staff party!
Kit-Cat: Merry Christmas, don't have too much fun without me
Yara: Merry Christmas ❤️ this probably isn't the time but I was hoping you could send over your notes from the last conservation lecture, just wanna text you before I forget!
566-460-4374: I got your number from Kyle, this is Roderick, I saw you last night and wanted to check up on you, hope everything is okay and merry Christmas.
Lindsey: Hey, haven't talked to you in a while but my parents said some stuff went down, just wanna make sure you're okay.
Ellie: Lmk if you need a ride back to our place
Ellie: Don't know if you can even see this but I got all of your stuff off the lawn, I promise it's safe 👍
Naomi: I'm so sorry
Naomi: I didn't think that would happen
Naomi: I didn't know what to do
Naomi: I love you
Aaron: U good?
Naomi: Please don't hate me, I'm sorry I didn't do anything
Elijah: Sorry but I wish you didn't tell Dad that
Naomi: I'll try to talk to Dad
Elijah: Hope you're safe
Elijah: Call me when you can
Still, there wasn't any word from either of my parents. I replied returning well wishes and assuring everyone that I was okay, I turned my phone onto Do Not Disturb and began to watch the Hunger Games on my phone. The room would've been pitch black if it wasn't for the blue light from my screen and the gentle beams of moonlight gliding through the window.
Ellie walks into the room after she finishes with her shower, she's in sweatpants and an old hoodie that she got from a rodeo, I had the same one, and we bought them together. I glance up at her before looking back at my movie and pulling the quilt further up my body. "You still like the Hunger Games?"
"Yeah," I say, being as brief as possible.
"You should take my bed and I'll sleep on the air mattress," Ellie says while she ties her hair into a low ponytail.
"I'm fine here, thanks."
"Seriously," Ellie is standing awkwardly at the foot of her bed, waiting for me to do something.
I shut my phone off and turned on my other side to face away from her "Just go to bed."
Ellie runs her hands down her face in frustration, she's starting to feel like an asshole "Please take the bed, it's the least I can do." I ignore her so she speaks again "I am begging you," She tells me bluntly "I feel like a dick and it would make me feel better if you just took the bed."
"You are a dick," I answer, she should've seen this response coming from a mile away.
"Please take the bed."
I sit up to look at her, frustration now boiling up inside of me "You're going to be nice now because you feel bad for me?"
"That's not why-
"It is actually," I tell her "This will last for a few days and then we'll go home and you'll be a cunt all over again, fucking keeping a list of everything I lay a finger on so you can say it's my fault if it breaks." She bites the inside of her cheek, that's her tell. Every time she does that I can tell that I've gotten under her skin. "You'll still act like you don't know me and I'm just some weird girl who thinks the world of you, I know what you say to those girls you have over, the walls aren't that thick." My insides ache from all of the screaming and crying of the past couple of days "And I know that I hurt you and I've told you a million times over that I'm sorry, you don't get to start having empathy for me now."
Ellie's silent again, she can't seem to find the words, so instead she slips under the covers of her bed, giving up. Minutes pass us, we've slept in this room together a thousand times but this time it's different, we don't share her queen bed and stay up all night watching the walking dead and talking shit about people at our school, we lay in the uncomfortable silence. We're grown but in this moment I still feel like a child searching for her mother's hand to guide her, I feel like my teeth still need to fall out so brighter, stronger ones can take their place, that the baby fat has yet to shed from my bones.
"I didn't know that you liked girls," Ellie said, breaking the silence "And I shouldn't have assumed that stuff about your parents." I don't respond to her, though she knows that I heard her. "I lied that night when you moved in."
"What?"
"I got all bitchy and said that you don't even cross my mind, I was lying," She's confessing to me as if I'm a priest "There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't think about you."
I'm not doing well.
I want nothing more than to crawl into bed next to Ellie and just hug her until I fall asleep but the resentment I've garnered for her these past months refrains me.
"I don't know if you ever knew this, but back in high school I had a bit of a crush on you," She says and my break hitches in my throat "Hey, you there?"
'I don't know if you ever knew this but I turned myself inside out trying not to be in love with you.' I don't say that, instead, I say "Goodnight, Ellie, Merry Christmas."
"Goodnight," She mutters, and like me, she turns her body to face away from me.
I don't feel mature in the slightest, I'm kept awake, haunted by shame and embarrassment. Ellie had seen me only one night prior, on my knees begging for love. We may be cold and calculated to one another now but I remember when she was a little girl who overwatered her plants because she didn't know how to stop giving.
TAG LIST I just tagged whoever wanted a part two: @elliesaesp @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @elliesaturnsoftdrink @mikellie @melanie-watermelon @skylerwhitwyo
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clerc16 · 5 months
Text
✯ music? date? both ; charles leclerc
a/n: based on a tiktok i saw earlier, by teilhard_ :)
summary: she listens to music when getting ready. he loves it. she sends him a note - he asks her out.
warnings: none.
── ☆⋆。𖦹°‧★
You were a major music lover.
Getting ready? Listen to music. Reading? Listen to music. Driving? Listen to music. Bored? You guessed it.
Everyone knew that about you - you were unbelievably passionate about music. Any type of music.
“Y/NNNN, can we hang out today? iʼm bored” said a text from your friend. Naturally, you agreed - why not? It was a Saturday night and you had no plans whatsoever.
Like always, you turned on your regular playlist, making sure the volume is suitable only for your ears to hear, not to disturb any of your neighbors. Unbeknownst to you, your next door neighbor could listen to every sound coming out of your speakers. He was a nice guy - you interacted a few times, little “hello”s and “how are you”s every time you would randomly bump into each other. Despite being famous worldwide, he was extremely humble.
He was also devilishly handsome. But you never actually admitted that.
As you swiftly moved around your apartment to grab little bits and bobs needed to get ready, occasionally humming or singing along with the music, Charles Leclerc was sitting in the apartment right next to yours, attempting to read.
If he was bothered by your music, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you - but he wasnʼt. It gave his currently dull and dead apartment a lively feel to it. Plus, your music taste was unmatchable.
As you put on some final touches, you paused your music and turned off your speakers. You grabbed your purse, phone and keys and left your apartment, shutting your door with a soft thud.
It wasn’t the first time Charles heard your music - in fact, ever since he moved in, he’d be hearing various music genres at various times of the day. This almost seemed like his final straw; he wanted to get to know you more.
He didn’t know how to approach you - he didn’t have your number, your social media, not even an email. So he channeled his inner creativity and decided to talk to you in a special way.
The special way was by leaving you a note by your doorstep. Not very original, eh?
As you were out with your friend enjoying your night, Charles was tapping his pen on the desk trying to think of what to write. After a few long hours, Charles had written the perfect note and placed it by your doorstep, hoping to see a response in the morning.
You stumbled back into your apartment complex, trying not to make a noise. You werenʼt drunk, just tired, your body begging you to fall asleep. You paid little to no attention as to what you were stepping on as you approached your door, keys in hand. As you were about to walk in, something felt stiff underneath your shoes. Looking down, you saw a small cream envelope with your name written on it in fancy cursive writing.
You bent down to pick it up and walked inside your apartment, your eyes still on the envelope. What is this?
You sit down on your couch and carefully open the letter, not wanting to rip the envelope.
“Bonjour -
Je voulais juste dire que tu écoutes de la très bonne musique, jʼadore ça!
PS: écoute “This Charming Man” de The Smiths, tu devrais aimer...
- Charles (ton voisin, n°28)”
[ Hello -
I just wanted to say that you listen to really good music, I love it!
PS: listen to “This Charming Man” by The Smiths, you should like it...
- Charles (your neighbor, n°28) ]
You immediately smiled at the note, your heart bursting with pride. If someone compliments your music taste and recommends a song, they are immediately very dear to you.
You placed the note back into its envelope and got up to change and refresh. Youʼll make sure to write back - you just donʼt really know how.
The next day, the first thing Charles did when he got up was to check for a note. He didn’t find anything. Nothing.
He sighed and decided to get on with his day. He shouldnʼt have expected a lot, really. As he left his apartment, he checked for one last time - still, nothing.
Little did he know you were just writing his name on an envelope to place on his doorstep.
The day passed, both of you anxiously waiting for a reply from each other. When Charles finally came home and saw a pink envelope on his doorstep, he smiled so hard his cheeks must have been screaming. He grabbed the envelope and rushed inside, the smile never leaving his face.
“Bonjour!
Merci beaucoup! Cela signifie beaucoup. La chanson est incroyable, The Smiths ne déçoivent jamais.
PS: écoute de “Good Looking” de Suki Waterhouse :)
- Y/N”
[ Hello!
Thank you so much! It means a lot! The song is amazing, The Smiths never disappoint.
PS: listen to “Good Looking” by Suki Waterhouse :) ]
Charles immediately opens the song on his phone, listening to it. Your music taste never disappoints, either.
It was like that for a few days - notes filled with song suggestions being passed back and forth. Every time you played music, you made sure to turn it up just a notch so he can listen to it with you.
Eventually, phone numbers were exchanged too, so notes on doorsteps were replaced by texts. Despite all this, you two didn’t actually talk in real life - even though you were literally next door neighbors.
One day, you were doing your usual, listening to music while cooking dinner. Your doorbell rang, and you walked over to the door to see who it was. Funnily enough, no one was there - but a small envelope on the doorstep was. You were confused; you and Charles text now, so why another envelope?
You brought it inside and sat down, opening it swiftly. Your hands grasped at the paper and pulled it out, curiously reading.
“Bonjour!
I feel like itʼs appropriate to ask to see you in real life now. Talking to you has been lovely. What do you say, coming by my house tomorrow at 6PM for dinner?
☐ Oui
☐ Non
- One last letter from Charles :)”
You grinned from ear to ear as you grabbed a pen and ticket the oui box, placing the note back in its envelope and by his doorstep.
Hopefully he lets you play your music on that dinner.
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honeymark · 24 days
Text
𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒏𝒄𝒕 𝟏𝟐𝟕 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒇𝒐𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 ㅡ
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click 〔 here 〕 for the hyung line.
˗ˏˋ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 :: hi miss soojin ! could u write smth ab 127 comforting their insecure gf ? thank u so much ! ´ˎ˗
⇢ 𝐉𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍 feels the most secure when you’re by his side, so he’s quick to notice when you start pulling away from him. at first, it was the texts — on the days you didn't see each other, you'd always text him throughout the day, even though you knew you wouldn't get a written response. it's not that he didn't read them; he was too busy with work to respond, so he'd always react with a thumbs up or a simple "haha." but then, your daily text threads stopped. he knew you had your own life, so he assumed you were too busy to send updates, but the nightly phone calls stopped, too. did he do something wrong? did you find someone else? what the fuck was going on?
he waits until the weekend to talk about it, and he listens attentively as you open up about wanting to be “less clingy and annoying.” he takes your hand in his with soft, cool fingers in a reassuring grip. “i didn’t know you felt this way, y/n,” he says softly. he presses a light kiss to your knuckles before delicately pulling you into a warm embrace. “you aren’t clingy or annoying, baby. you’re the cutest person in the world, and in a perfect world, i’d spend the rest of my life right by your side. nothing is as special as the time we spend together, and that includes reading your daily updates and watching all the tiktoks you send me and falling asleep to your soft snores on our nightly facetime calls. i love it all, and i love you, so don’t pull away from me, please?”
⇢ 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐖𝐎𝐎 isn’t one to ruminate on the past, mainly because he tends to overthink and overanalyze every little detail in a sticky situation. that being said, it would be a blatant lie to say that he hasn’t looked into your former relationships and partners. he’s matured enough over the years to keep his jealousy in check, but no matter how much time he spends with you, he just can’t seem to shake off a lingering insecurity that’s convinced him he isn’t fulfilling your needs…
which is why he’s all the more surprised when you bring up the same insecurities to him. he listens without judgement or interruption as you express how you’ve been feeling, his heart aching as you tearfully open up about not being enough for him. he waits for you to finish before enveloping you in a tight hug, and he thanks you for being vulnerable with him, reminding you that your feelings and concerns are valid. he gets carried away with listing all of the qualities he loves about you, and he doesn’t stop until you seal his lips yourself with a kiss. “there’s nothing to compare, my love. no one holds a candle to you. you’re the one for me, i mean it!”
⇢ 𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐊 knew from the moment you met that there was no hope for him; he was going to fall head over heels in love with you. it’s been five years since then, and his affection for you has only increased tenfold. he truly admires everything about you, from your ability to understand and empathize with others, to your independence and strength, to your resilience and readiness to bounce back from any setback, to your creativity and ridiculous sense of humor. of course, he appreciates your beauty (something that he reminds you of very frequently, especially at night 🤠), but more than anything, he loves you for who you are and genuinely cherishes the depth of your connection.
so, unsurprisingly, he’s concerned by how suddenly adamant you are about not wanting to get dressed in front of him, something you’ve been doing for years now. at first, he doesn’t think much of it; you reserve the right to privacy, and he respects that, but it goes on for over a week. he’s sure something is bothering you, and his suspicions are confirmed by how you immediately burst into tears when he asks you about it. he holds you in a firm embrace as you describe how insecure you feel because of your stretch marks and acne scars. nothing hurts his heart more than to hear you disparage yourself, and he waits until you calm down to share his thoughts.
"it's okay to feel that way, babe. but i'm going to be honest...i think you're beautiful no matter what. who cares about stretch marks or acne scars? those are just nouns. they don't mean anything, and they definitely don't take away from how amazing of a human being you are. you’re beautiful, and i can’t get enough of you.”
⇢ 𝐇𝐀𝐄𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐍 is the first man you’ve ever met who’s been able to intellectually and humorously keep up with you, and you haven’t given him a chance to escape from your grip ever since (not that he’s ever wanted to, of course). the two of you met in college, and after months of constantly riffing off each other, you made the first move and confessed your feelings in an uncharacteristically sincere way. it’s been a few years since then, and while it’s undeniable that you two have the most fun when you’re together, you start to wonder if he really loves you. it’s not that your relationship was necessarily lacking anything; you two were plenty intimate, both emotionally and physically, but…it still couldn’t hurt to ask, right?
it’s one of those “let’s order pizza and rot on the couch for hours” kinds of nights when you finally find the courage to ask him, “do you love me?” he hears you, but it’s clear he doesn’t take you seriously; he doesn’t even bother looking up from his phone as he answers with a sarcastic “of course not.” he waits for you to respond with some sort of witty comeback, but you don’t. he glances up and nearly drops his phone on his face when he sees you tearing up. he immediately asks if you’re okay, and he solemnly listens as you make light of your insecurities. he pulls you into a rough hug and kisses you, his lips soft and sweet against yours. “shit, baby, i’m sorry. i didn’t know you were feeling this way. of course i love you. y/n, you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, and i’m sorry that i don’t say it enough. i love you, baby. i love you so much.”
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violetrainbow412-blog · 6 months
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Day 24: game night
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Masterlist flufftober 🎀
Reblog if you liked it!
Things hadn't been going too well lately with the mood of the team and you had agreed to get together every Friday to have a good time, when work and your personal lives allowed it. That night Emily was the hostess and when she suggested playing UNO you didn't think things would take the turn they did, just as you didn't think you guys would finally discover the Achilles heel of the group's card game expert. 
"This isn't even a legal thing, the rules specifically say that wild cards aren’t cumulative." 
"Reid, shut up and take the twenty cards!" laughed Emily, pointing accusingly at your friend as everyone present laughed. She had seen to it that the man had a good stack of cards in his hands, for she wasn’t going to waste the opportunity to for the first time in life make him suffer in a board game. 
Only you, who were on the other side of him, smiled ruefully instead of laughing. 
"Maybe you'll do better in the next round." 
"This game is silly" he whispered close to you, forming an unconscious pout on his lips and in response you gave him a gentle pat on the knee, prompting him to accept his cruel fate.
"You're good at finding patterns and you have a lot of cards, just try to remember which color the others don't have and use that to your advantage." 
"Hey, you two! Don't conspire with each other" Rossi complained, analyzing his cards carefully for the next move.
Spencer seemed to reflect on your advice and took a second to configure in his head the next strategy. Over the next few rounds the team began to suffer your friend's revenge and, oddly enough, he was trying to lay cards that favored your game, almost as if he could read your mind. Soon the cards of both of you diminished, which caused Spencer to smirk proudly at himself for having managed to use his brain.
Suddenly, in one of those rounds, something in Emily's smile let you know that she had a plan to get back at him and when she placed one of the jokers you knew she had doomed both of you. 
Kiss the player on your right or quit the game. 
"You've got to be kidding me" he complained, while the rest burst out laughing "That-that's not even a real card!" 
"It's a customizable UNO, that's how you play" she defended herself. Spencer looked at you for a second, not even contemplating serving the card punishment as a possibility, then let out a resigned sigh.
"Drop dead" he snorted, laying the cards on the table and ready to leave. 
He almost made it, had it not been for your hand stopping him by the arm. 
"You're about to win, you're not leaving," you said with determination. He opened his eyes wide and suddenly the laughter stopped and he looked at you carefully, trying to decipher whether you meant it or not. 
You put him back in his place and Spencer looked at you in astonishment, just before you reached up to his ear to whisper a few words that no one else could make out. The rest saw your friend smile slightly, whatever you had said to him, as his cheeks flushed red and then you broke apart to share a knowing look. 
"Good, good. Then I'm going to kiss you." 
The man's hand came tentatively up to your cheek to cradle your face and begin to bring it up to his, under the curious gazes of the entire group. Neither of you two looked uncomfortable and the team would almost swear they saw mischievous smiles on your faces. As your lips were about to brush, barely a breath away from joining, you turned just enough for your friend's kiss to be exaggeratedly stamped on your cheek. 
"Oh, come on!" 
"You asked for a kiss, you got a kiss" you muttered amidst a laugh, satisfied that you had found a creative alternative to meet the challenge and, in the process, received a happy kiss on the cheek. 
"That's not legal!"
"I thought we didn't follow conventional rules" he chuckled and then drew you into a sideways hug, feeling as playfully energetic as you. 
In the end, contrary to initial predictions, Spencer did win on game night and you agreed to cross UNO off the list of allowed activities for the weekly meetings.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger @missabsey
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clairdelunelove · 3 months
Text
sunset boulevard
itadori yuuji x f!reader
genre: fluff! (blind date! one shot)
warnings: none, 2.6k words
synopsis: you don't do blind dates; too much risk with little reward. but your friends assure you that this time it'll be different. and when the epitome of 'the boy next door' starts talking to you at the amusement park– you think they're right.
a.n. haha, not my brainrot about itadori being so bad that I had to write this. and nu, I've never been on a blind date before but imma write about it :3
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you created it on a whim. encouraged by your friends’ prodding and teasing about your love life- or lack thereof- so your fingers clicked on the newly downloaded app. meant to be just for fun. a silly topic for your girls’ night. “just for the plot,” you told them with a knowing shake of your head when they all impishly giggled. a generic dating app where most people on there had an ulterior motive and would do anything to achieve it. but you weren’t willing to accept that, promising yourself to keep boundaries. the limit that you’re willing to bargain on is a public date. emphasis on the ‘public’ part because your friends are already scheming. whispers about a netflix and chill type of date. but you sign into the app, choosing a couple pictures of yourself that are adequate enough to catch some attention, and write a creative bio. it’s impressionable. modest. wholesome. definitely not the route that your friends desired for you to engage in. “done,” you state matter-of-factly. a beat of silence passes. the realization that you’re actually agreeing to this sets in. much to your chagrin, your friends end up snatching your phone from your hands and adding their own spin to your profile. editing your pictures to the ones that they have on their phones. “we’ll set you up with someone good for you,” your friend reassures with a good-natured pat on your back. “real good,” your other friend slyly drawls and bursts out laughing with the others. you don’t know whether your stomach twists from nervousness or anticipation from their ruse. 
-
ten minutes until your date is deemed late. twisting your wrist, you glance at your watch again just to confirm your suspicion and huff. you’d arrived half an hour earlier than the time your friends texted you. your motto was that it was better to be incredibly early than late, especially since you had no idea what your date looked like. but the fear of being deserted causes you to shift on your feet as you sidestep out of the way for a group of teenagers to pass. wouldn’t be the first time you’d get stood up. glancing upward, you double-check that you’re standing underneath the carnival’s main attraction– the ferris wheel. its bright, illuminated colors jump out at you, almost mockingly, as if to highlight the gloomy frown plastered on your face.
“waiting for someone too?”
the voice snaps you out of your daze and you’re left peering up at the person that seemingly appeared out of thin air. he’s attractive– the kind of appeal that leaves you breathless from his inquisitive eyes and easy grin. a slender hand is carded in his hair as he patiently awaits for your response.
“yeah,” you croak before hastily clearing your throat, “I am.”
it shocks you that he’s even conversing with you. clad in a yellow hoodie and denim jeans, he’s the epitome of 'the boy next door.' could probably win the role for starring in the newest coming of age movie that’s bound to gain revenue just from his visage. he’s adorned in vibrant colors that contrast your pastel-toned clothes and you self-consciously pull at your shirt. 
“wanna check out that game right there? promise it’ll be quick!” 
from the corner of your eye, you recognize that he’s angled towards you as the question leaves his lips. gosh, is he talking to you? almost like he’s inviting you to spend some time with him in the meantime.
dumbfounded, your mouth drops open as you point to yourself, “me? you’re talking to me?” 
“of course!” he replies enthusiastically like it’s second nature for him to hang out with strangers, “might as well take advantage of the time, right?” 
he adjusts his backpack by slinging the dark strap over his shoulder and turns to walk in the direction of the nearby carnival booths that have games lined up for customers. you note that he attempts to blend in with the crowd but his upbeat attitude is too perceivable. has a glimmer in his eyes that attracts the ogling of bystanders. luminescent signs light up the path to the section dedicated to the midway. wooden signs promising ‘fun’ and ‘a winner every time’ written in bubbly font. it’s enticing. it’s fun– an experience that you’ve lacked recently. and before you can argue that you’re waiting for someone, the blushy haired male ushers you to follow with a wave of his hand. 
“c’mon!” 
you’re lightly jogging after him, short strides compared to his long ones, and manage to catch up to him with an exasperated breath. he’s fit; not the type where his physique screams ‘gym rat’ but rather that he’s the epitome of good health.
catching sight of you beside him, he gleefully chuckles, “knew you’d be up for some fun! I’m–”
he breaks off to gawk at a booth that grabs his attention and instantly treads through the crowd to line up for it. the game has the typical objective of knocking over a pyramid of milk bottles. you stare at it expectantly, knowing that this midway game is usually fixed; bottles stacked on the bottom are filled with sand or lead that weigh in a couple extra pounds and the given ball is unusually light. he’s buzzing with excitement, though. hastily patting his pocket, he pulls out his wallet and whips out enough money to buy a turn. 
“I’m itadori yuuji, by the way,” he finally continues his belated introduction while pushing the money into the midway worker’s hands. 
“yuuji,” you repeat and savor the name on your lips, “these games are usually rigged, ya know.” 
"are they?”
he doesn’t seem bothered by the carnival’s dirty tactic, however. merely chirps a word of gratitude when the worker tosses him the singular ball and deftly explains the rules of the game. the customary one chance to knock over all three milk bottles and you knowingly press your lips together. 
yet, your eyes comically widen as he begins to strip his hoodie off and hands it to you, “can you hold this for a second? thanks!” 
straight away, the movement coaxes onlookers to turn their attention to the both of you. steely gazes focused on the cuts of muscle on yuuji’s arm as he rolled his shoulder to stretch. you’re no exception. in fact, you take back what you earlier assumed about his physique. baffled by how his baggy clothes managed to cover his impressive build, you hurriedly turn your chin to hide the warmth that spreads across your cheeks and neatly tuck his hoodie under your arm. his physique is essentially out of a magazine— broad, beefy shoulders that taper off into a small waist.
your lips move before you can stop them. “you got this!” 
an expression of shock paints his face due to your encouragement before he flashes you a lopsided grin; boyish before he concentrates. there’s a gleam in his eyes as he retracts his arm like he’s winding up to pitch in a baseball game. then, he lobs— no, hurls— it straight at the tower of milk bottles. the ball whizzes through the air and the targets come crashing down from the sheer power of his throw. it’s startling. dazed, you’re left wondering if the stranger you just met is secretly superhuman. 
“we have a winner!” the midway worker roars to the enthusiastic crowd.
“yes!” 
yuuji pumps his fist in the air as the worker and a couple people in the crowd come to congratulate him. he’s all smiles now. there’s a big, toothy grin plastered on his face when the worker hands him his prize; a large teddy bear that has a red bow on its chest and the sheer size of it has him grasping onto it with both hands. 
“look!” he exclaims and gently shakes the stuffed toy in his grasp, “do you like it?” 
you can’t help but giggle at the exhilaration behind his gaze, “it’s cute!”
he’s clearly pleased by your reaction, swiping a finger over his nose before bursting out into laughter and your heart fills. his habits are so endearing and wholesome that it’s heartwarming. abruptly, the teddy bear is pushed into your chest and yuuji's knuckles brush against yours from the maneuver. the stuffed bear’s big, beady eyes stare at you as yuuji deliberately turns to shrug on his hoodie again. 
“it’s for you!” 
his confession is a little muffled as he extends his arms through his sleeves and it occurs to you that he’s whirled away from you for a reason. a dust of pink washes over his cheeks and he runs a sheepish hand through his tousled hair. 
“I won it for you,” he reiterates, almost bashful, “I mean, you did come and spend some time with me when you were probably busy but–” 
it’s a stark contrast from the confident and affable guise that he’s shown you. a peek into his personality that you’ve yet to appreciate. he kicks at a stray pebble on the pavement while his hands are shoved into his pockets. the way his blushy hair is a similar shade to the tips of his ears causes you to inwardly melt.
your thoughts go haywire but a demure smile stretches across your glossy lips, “thank you, yuuji. I love it.” 
he clears his throat, murmurs a comment about how it’s not a huge deal, and faces you. yuuji blinks— once, twice, and his gaze softens. then, he utters a compliment that goes straight to your heart. 
“you look cute like that.” 
it’s straightforward, candid but you still ask, “like what?”
“happy.” 
you let him tug you to the next midway booth. 
-
“aw, come on!” 
yuuji’s droning is followed by the teasing nudge he gives you. the touch draws out a yelp from you and the sound immediately reduces him into a laughing fit. for now, the both of you agreed to do a little sightseeing before the amusement park closed for the day. it was already evening; the sky was a cascade of apricot and vermilion. a beautiful vision to match the day. spending time with yuuji was like being in a trance. time seemed to slip quicker when he was with you. 
naturally, your fingers reach to pinch his cheek due to his antics. 
“ow!” he cries and childishly rubs at the inflicted area, “not my fault I’m good at every game here.” 
although the blushy haired male is telling the truth, you can’t help but pout at his words because yes– he was basically a professional at every game in the midway. you’ve tried your hand at a couple booths. yuuji insisted on paying for anything you touched and fondly watched. however, he was soon tagged in whenever you were unsuccessful and he managed to turn the game’s odds around. evident in the countless plushies that’s tucked in his strong arms. all of them were for you, of course. he just plucked them out of your grasp when you briefly mentioned how your arms were getting tired from carrying them around. 
“you’re in denial!” he singsongs and grins wider when he hears you huff in exasperation. 
“I am not in denial!” 
“you are!” 
“well, you’ve spent a lot on these games,” you pause to lower your voice, “and on me. you haven’t even known me for that long.” 
unsurprisingly, he recognizes the concern laced on your words and stops walking. his brows furrowed. the teasing grin is wiped from his face and is replaced with a tender gaze. forever wise and dependable. he leans down, hooks a finger under your chin, and murmurs his reasoning. 
“honestly,” his voice trails off in remembrance, “I barely have any time to do fun stuff like this so I'm taking advantage of it.” 
the sentiment is supposed to be understandable, one that many individuals’ share in life. yet, you can’t help but assume that his words weigh heavier than the average person’s. it stabs at your heart to know that such a kind soul is no stranger to heartache.
“besides,” he interrupts your train of thought and gleefully grins, “I get to win a pretty girl some prizes. sounds like a win to me.”  
with an affectionate compliment, yuuji cleverly brings back the light-hearted mood from earlier. he’s skilled at this– redirecting your focus through an optimistic point of view. one of his traits that you’re smitten with. fondly patting your head, he takes a step back and rises to his full height. he’s still gauging your expression, though. his eyes are like liquid honey from this proximity and you’re in awe. truth be told, you might never meet another person quite like him.
you can’t help but poke fun, “are you saying that you usually pick up girls at the amusement park, yuuji?” 
“me? nah,” then he murmurs, a tinge of guilt coating his words, “I was actually supposed to go on a blind date here.”
the remark leaves his lips in a single, rushed breath like it’s been bothering him the entire time. he’s quiet. his arms tighten around the stuffed animals in his grasp and he tilts his head in contemplation. he’s internally battling himself. why did he have to open his mouth? is he ruining this and digging his own grave? frown deepening, he vaguely wonders if he should’ve brought it up in the first place. perhaps you would think of him differently and then– 
from this angle you get a glimpse of his throat bobbing before he quickly adds, “but I liked this better.” 
what the blushy haired male isn’t expecting, though, is how your face breaks into astonishment, “wait. a blind date? I’m supposed to be on a blind date too!” 
you couldn’t believe your luck.
“you’re (y/n)?” 
willingly nodding at his inquiry, yuuji sputters in disbelief and shifts the prizes under one arm so he can put a hand on your shoulder, “this is crazy! like, crazy in a good way but still– crazy! who would’ve thought, right?” 
long arms blindly reaching for you, he wraps you into a hug that has your face squished into the hard expanse of his chest. he’s laughing wildly– a genuine sound that brings an emotion that knocks the wind out of you because he’s truly thrilled that you are his blind date. your fingers grip the back of his hoodie, allowing yourself to be engulfed in his warmth. 
“and here I was dreading the blind date that kugisaki and fushiguro set up for me,” he thoughtlessly mumbles in your hair while retelling his own version of how his friends forced encouraged him to go.
pulling away, albeit unhurriedly, the both of you exchanged phone numbers and promises of keeping in touch were whispered into the evening air. 
“you can text me whenever you want,” yuuji tucks his phone back into his pocket while sheepishly grinning, “even if you don’t have a reason to.” 
cheekily texting him a greeting, for the fun of it, you grin when his phone dings at the notification, “I will.” 
puffs of warm air swirl and intermingle into one. his eyes twinkled in the streetlights’ rays of light. it was romantic– sickeningly so that you wondered if you were dreaming.
-
yuuji ended up lending you his hoodie, chuckling when the bright, oversized garment swaddled you. he even walked you back to your place and waited in the chill until he heard the door’s lock click into place. there’s a bounce in your step when you waltz into your bedroom. 
with all the stuffed animals neatly lined up on your bed, you instantly snap a picture of you and yuuji’s winnings. your fingers swiftly dropped the photo in your friends’ group chat before sending it to yuuji. and your lips curl into a smile when his text bubbles immediately appear on the screen. memorabilia of your first– successful– blind date with someone that was too good to be true. 
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daydreaming-nerd · 10 days
Text
Young Love and Old Money (Cassian x Female! Reader) Part 10
Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9
AN: You guys I'm sorry this took a while. I really put a lot into this so I hope the wait was worth it. ALSO The Tortured Poets Department just came out!!! which means my creative juices are flowing, because nothing gets me thinking like Hans Zimmer and Taylor Swift. Already thinking of some Azriel angst for The Black Dog. ALSO this fic has a a cinematic playlist that goes with it? I can post it if that's something you guys are interested in.
Summary: She was the most beautiful woman in Prythian, sister to the High Lord of Night, and now she is the soon-to-be wife of Eris Vanserra. Despite her many titles and her aura of unattainability, Cassian can't help but fall deeply in love with the princess of the Night Court. But will it be enough to stop her impending wedding to a man who is sure to destroy her from the inside out?
Warnings: Sexism, heavy angst, descriptions of character injuries, reader got the Mor treatment, last lil bit of angst guys you'll like the end.
Word Count: 5,103
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Third Person pov:
Cassian stared at the other side of his bed. The one that suddenly felt so large now. He skipped training that morning, skipped breakfast too. Instead he twirled a small brass ring between his fingers. His mother’s ring to be exact. The last thing he had of hers, given to him by the female that told him where her body was dumped. 
He had wanted to give it to her, his mate.  Longed to see it on her dainty hand. He laughed when he thought about it in comparison to the ring Eris gave her. He remembered the sight of it as she pulled it out after the night he first made love to her. The thing was huge, when he held her hand yesterday he could practically feel the weight of it. The idea of putting a busted up old brass ring on that finger made his heartbreak. He wanted to give her so much more. 
At least, he thought, if she’s married to Eris she will be able to have nothing but the finest things. 
He tried to make that a consolation for him. But he knew that even a gilded cage was a cage. 
It wasn’t until midday when pain exploded through his gut, white hot and unyielding. He sat up abruptly, clutching his heart as he reached down the bound searching for her. Gasped as he realized that golden rope unwinding slowly but surely. He looked deeper, allowing himself to feel whatever she felt. His body temperature dropped as the pain in his gut worsened, and then as if the string was cleaved by a sword he felt nothing at all. A stone wall had dropped over the bond.   
No, no, no, no. 
He shot from his bed, ripping on whatever leathers he could find on the ground of his bedroom. Banishment be damned, he wouldn't let her die. 
Azriel sat on the couch nursing a hangover as Cassian bursted into the room, he tossed him a spare dagger. 
“Get up somethings wrong with y/n,” Cassain ordered the voice of a general making itself known as he laced up his boots.
Azriel didn’t object, didn’t even whine or moan from his aching head as he got up to join his brother. The shadowsinger had always been the calmest of the three, always the most collected. But he had never seen his brother so scared before, and that cool veil of calm that he always kept so wholly intact started to slip. 
It was a short flight to the townhouse and as Cassian landed at the front steps he started to realize the weight of what was about to happen. He had no time to prepare himself for how he would tell his High Lord, his best friend, and his brother in arms about the secret relationship he had been having with his precious little sister. And y/n was precious to Rhys, always had been, even if the trauma they both endured under the mountain had driven a wedge between them. 
Cassian reached through the bond and felt nothing still. He lost all hesitation and nearly blew off the doors to Rhysand’s study. 
Rhysand’s head flew up, and assessed whatever threat would lie before him. His eyes soften when he found his best friend standing in the doorway, but hardened again once he saw the sheer panic in his eyes. 
“y/n is in trouble we have to find her,” Cassian ordered, leaving no room for argument. 
“What do you mean y/n is in trouble?” Rhysand stood to brace his hands against his desk. “If she’s having a problem her husband can help her Cassian.” 
“And what if her husband is the reason she’s in trouble? I came to you for help, but if you won’t offer it I’ll take Azriel and I’ll find her myself.” Cassian growled, a male beyond feral. 
Azriel looked between the general and the High Lord, the stare down between the two so cold, so unyielding that it would go down in history. Rhysand’s violet eyes burned into Cassian’s, looking for the untold truth Cassian was keeping from him. When he didn’t find it, power filled the room as Rhys looked into Cassian’s mind.
“Stay out of my head Rhys!” Cassain grumbled, shaking his head as if those dark talons had already pried into his memories.  
It was too late, and Rhysand’s eyes filled with an anger Cassian had never seen as he winnowed over to where he stood and slammed him against the wall. 
“YOU SLEPT WITH MY LITTLE SISTER?!” Rhysand bellowed in his face. 
Cassian had never been afraid of the High Lord of Night. Not when he showed up at Windhaven with his brand new training clothes, not when he saw him wipe whole infantries off the face of the earth with the flick of his wrist. The common denominator was that he was never on the receiving end of Rhysand’s rage. But now he had a not so friendly reminder that he was the most powerful High Lord to ever grace Prythian, and Cassian was scared. 
“Let me explain,” Cassian choked out, the raw power spilling off Rhysand stifling his ability to even breathe. 
“Rhys,” Azriel warned, that cool calm coming back to him as he watched his brothers at eachothers throats. 
Rhys’ head whipped around to Azriel, “You knew?” he seethed. 
The spymaster didn’t dare speak, he simply took a step back raising his hands in surrender. 
“She’s my mate Rhys,” Cassian ground out. 
Rhys’ eyes met Cassain’s, and saw the pleading in them. The kind that could only be found in a male who’s mate was in danger. He had seen it before, when Kallias talked about Viviane, even before he knew she was his mate. 
Rhys released his hold on Cassian and the general's boots hit the floor with a thud as he started to collect himself. 
“She’s dying Rhys’ I can feel it. She was so cold and then there was just nothing. Please we have to find her.” Cassain pleaded. 
The High Lord seemed to be inside his own head, sorting through all the information he had been given in the last couple of minutes. This was more than just saving his sister, it was saving his best friend’s mate. Losing one would be like losing both, Cassian could never recover from such a loss. 
“If you felt cold she’s most likely in the Winter Court. You and Azriel take the border of Autumn and Winter, I’ll go speak to Kallias and Viviane and see what they know.” Rhysand ordered in a way that was more High Lordly than his brothers had ever heard. 
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y/n’s pov:
It had been at least an hour, I had deciphered. The cold winter winds whipping around me as my body became so cold the snow started to bury me. 
I thought about grabbing the dagger just inches away from my frozen hand and plunging it through my heart, but when I tried to reach for it the pain that radiated through my side was too great. 
So I kept pulling on that bond, the rope that had turned to a thread. It felt like it was tied to a boulder, as every time I pulled it I found the otherside dead. The effects of the bloodbane taking away my ability to feel Cassian and my ability to heal.  
As I lay there, my legs becoming heavy as they become covered in a thin layer of frost and my blood spilling out onto the snow, I thought of one thing. 
It was all for nothing.
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Cassian’s pov: 
The blizzard that had waged war on my wings yesterday was even stronger today. Thankfully Azriel was able to winnow the two of us to the border with ease. If y/n had truly been left out here then there was no time to waste. The snow and wind was so thick I could hardly see the ground below us. I prayed to the mother that she was with Kallias and Viviane, warm, safe and alright. Because if I found her out here it would be a miracle to find her alive. 
I flew as fast as possible, fighting against the gusts of wind. Azriel was farther behind me, no doubt running his eyes over every place I might’ve missed in my panic. If she was out here she wouldn't be hard to find, for on the border there was nothing but bare land. No trees, and no bushes or rocks. If the snow hadn’t buried her she would stand out like a sore thumb. 
She can’t be gone.
She can’t be gone. 
She can’t be gone.
I was beginning to lose hope, nearing the end of the border when Rhys spoke into my mind. 
Kallias and Viviane have not seen her, they’re sending out search parties as we speak.
My fears only heightened at Rhys’ status report, she was out here somewhere and I was most likely already too late.
No she’s not gone.
I told myself as I tugged on the bond one more time to see if there was still that concrete wall there and to my surprise I found a faint hum. The rope between us torn to shreds, I almost felt like if I tugged on it one more time it might disintegrate.  
“I can feel her!” I shout to Azriel over the wind. He shields his eyes from the wind to give me a nod, as he continues to search for her. 
My eyes scan the vast expanse of white below me until I see a small crumpled form, lying in the snow. 
No. 
I don’t think for another moment before tucking in my wings and diving straight for it. As I slam into the icy ground. I rush over to the heap on the ground and my worst fears are confirmed. 
There lies y/n with her back facing me, nothing covering her but a silk robe. Her body littered in bruises and blood pooling all around her. I fall to my knees before her, ignoring the bite of the snow. I pick her up and turn her carefully in my arms. The frost that covers her cheeks isn’t the worst of my concerns as my eyes fall to her stomach. There, nailed to her womb is a note that reads… 
‘WHORE’
I feel a liquid coating my hand and I hold it up to find blood. I spy a bloodblane laced dagger lying in the snow just a foot away. I reach down inside for the bond but I feel it disintegrating before my very eyes. 
“No, no, no Princess wake up!” I cry moving the hair from her frozen face. 
She doesn’t move. 
“Please wake up y/n!” I scream, my tears falling on her face as I try to shake her awake. “COME ON!” I growl. 
A shadow slams into the earth behind me and I feel Az’s presence behind me falling to hitting his knees next to mine. I don’t try to read his face, if he looks at her like she’s dead I don’t know what I’ll do. Instead I focus all my efforts on trying to get those frozen eyelashes to open up for me. 
“Come on baby come back to me,” I grit, pressing a kiss to her forehead. My lips bite at the coldness there. 
“Cass I told Rhys, he’s already home,” Azriel reported, putting a hand on my shoulder. “Give her here,” he began reaching for her.
“No, don't touch her,” I growled, holding her closer to my chest. 
“I can winnow her back faster than you can fly her. You need to trust me Cass or she’s not going to make it,” he pleaded calmly. 
I sigh knowing that my brother is right and that my territorial male bullshit would only kill her. I reluctantly give her to Azriel and it isn’t until he stands with her that I realize how small she looks in his arms. How breakable, and I wonder if I’ll ever see her again. 
“Save her Az, please,” I beg, still on my knees. 
“Hang tight Cass I’ll be right back,” he says winnowing away. 
I’m left with the aftermath, and the roaring wind that’s practically white noise by now. In front of me is the imprint her body left in the snow and ice, as well as crimson colored snow. The knife that lay just a foot away identical to the one that was jabbed into my side just yesterday. I nearly threw up at the idea that she had felt that white hot pain of bloodbane making its way through her blood. 
A few minutes later Az winnowed back and took me with him to the townhouse. We landed in the foyer, and I didn’t hesitate to bound up the steps towards her own room. The door was flung open and Rhysand was already pacing watching Madja do her best work. 
“Is she going to be okay?” I ask, unable to rip my eyes away from her too still form lying on the bed. Her hair is still frozen, lips still blue. 
“We don’t know yet,” Rhys answers in a tone so somber it pulls my attention. His eyes are just as bloodshot as mine and his hair is sticking up all over the place like he had been running his hands through it too much. 
As Majda stitches her wounds and assesses every inch of her, I find myself peeling off some of my leathers. The place was practically a sauna with a roaring fire heating the room and the bedpans littered about her bed. Even Rhys had a bead of sweat dripping from his forehead. It was the only thing that could be done, to warm her up. 
I stared at my mate's unconscious body, and prayed to the Mother that she wouldn’t take her away. Even half frozen, battered and bruised, she was still so beautiful, still the Jewel. Still my princess who I had fallen for all those years ago.
Please Mother, please don’t take her. 
If anything, just let me see her one last time. See her beautiful eyes and kiss her lips. Allow me to hold my mate one last time while her heart is still beating. 
As Madja worked her hands up and down her body she didn’t say a word, didn’t even breathe loudly, as if she was listening for something. Her behavior affected us all, as we stayed completely silent, the only sounds in the room coming from the crackling fire.
So when her shoulders slumped and she sighed, the breath echoed throughout the room. My stomach sank as she turned to us with a somber face. 
“Before she was left out there she was taken by force, that’s where the bruises are from. The wound to the right side was caused by a dagger laced in bloodbane, she was practically mortal when he left her in the snow. And the wound to her lower abdomen? It hit her womb, if she ever wakes up she may never be able to have children,” Madja says sadly. 
“If she wakes up?” I ask quietly, praying I heard wrong. 
Her eyes meet mine and then Rhysand’s, “We’re losing her.” she begins and I swear I feel my knees about to give out. “I can’t access her thoughts or her emotions, but given what she’s been through, it seems she’s lost the will to live.”  
That was it. 
I take the two steps to the edge of her bed and my knees hit the ground as I begin to weep. I slide my hand under the piles of blankets, careful not to disturb them, and take her hand in mine. Gods it’s so cold.  She had always had cold hands, she used to put them under my shirt to warm them up. But this was different, her hands were like ice. She didn’t even feel like her. 
“Maybe if I can look into her mind?” Rhys breathed, the angst ridden in his voice. 
“You are welcome to try my Lord,” Madja said solemnly, like whatever he found wouldn’t be of any use anyways. 
I hear Rhys' footsteps walk around to the other side of the bed and kneel. He places a hand over her head, his palm twitching from the sudden cold that was there. I watched intently as his eyes closed and brows furrowed. As he went deeper and deeper into her mind his face contorted until it began to soften once more, and a single tear fell from his face. 
“What? What is it?” I asked, my voice cracking. 
The High Lord pulled his hand from his sisters face to wipe his stray tear,  “Madja’s right. She’s given up. Her last thought was that she had lost the Autumn Court’s armies and she had lost you too Cassian. After everything that happened, it was all for nothing.” Rhys relayed sadly. 
“But she’s here now, she’s safe, she has to wake up,” I pleaded, squeezing her too cold hand tighter. 
“She doesn’t know that she is here though general,” Madja says calmly, like if she spoke any other way I would rip her to shreds, which was probably true. “She fell under thinking she would never see you again.”
“What can I do? I’ll do anything.” I plead with Madja. Hell I’d trade places with her if I could. Her people needed a princess more than they needed a general.
“I’m afraid there is nothing any of us can do. All we can do is wait and hope she comes back,” Madja says sadly. 
“I want you to take up quarters in the town house for the time being,” Rhys ordered.
“Of course my Lord, I will be checking on her constantly,” Madja nods, collecting her bag full of tonics and bandages.
“Is there anything I can do for you Cass?” Azriel asks, placing a hand on my back. 
“No,” I say solemnly, pressing my forehead to her hand. “Just leave us.” 
Neither one of my brothers protested. The only indication that they had left was the door closing and the silence that had followed. Their muffled voices went down the hall, no doubt to show Madja where she would be staying. I was sure that Rhys would be back to check on his little sister once he was done. 
I lifted my head from where I had it pressed against her hand to see her face again. Her skin was still pale but the frost had melted off her eyelashes and skin. Hickies littered her neck and a faint hand shaped bruise wrapped around her neck.
Gods what had he done to her? 
“Princess I don’t know if you can hear me but you have to open those pretty eyes for me okay?” I pleaded with her. “It wasn’t for nothing baby, I’m here now and I’m not going to let anyone take you away again. You were so strong and so brave but you don’t have to be anymore, you just need to wake up. Just wake up and I’ll take care of you okay?” 
I feel my tears starting to well up. I didn’t just want my girlfriend back, or even my mate. I wanted my best friend back. I thought about what a lonely world it would be without her. 
“We can go back to reading your silly books while I tickle your feet. And you can whoop my ass and drink me under the table when we play Marks again.” I laugh remembering the time I taught her how to play the ridiculous drinking game, it felt like so long ago now.
“You have to come back to me because we have to have the most ridiculous and ornate mating ceremony ever.” I chuckle through my tears picturing how much she would detest the idea of an over the top event. “And you gotta wake up because I wanna make you my wife baby.” 
I feel the lump in my throat form, remembering the brass ring I had left on my nightstand from this morning. I had almost wished that I had felt the same sadness I felt then now. For nothing could compare to the agony of the mating bond slipping out of my hands like sand falling through an hourglass. 
“But we can’t do any of those things until you wake up honey, so you gotta open your eyes for me okay?” I say trying to smile. 
Her eyes don’t open, I’m not even sure if her chest rises and falls to breathe.
“Please y/n wake up! Please don’t leave me, I can’t live without you.” I plead, my tears falling faster than ever now. 
 I let out a groan as I press my forehead to her little hand again. My chest caving in as I find the skin there still cold.  Fuck it, if she can’t hear me than I’ll beg to the gods who might. 
“Please don’t take her from me. Please don’t take her from me.  Please don’t take her from me…”
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Rhysand’s pov: 
After I show Madja where she can set her things and take a load off, I slump into an armchair in my room and run my hands through my hair. For the first time today, I’m finally hit by the weight of what the past two hours have been.  
The images of what I saw when I reached into y/n’s mind were enough to make me shudder. I was so blind to her pain. So focused on my own mate, and my own trauma, I forgot that she went under that mountain with me. And what’s worse is that she felt like she owed me an army for saving her. I almost regret going so far back into her memories that I saw it all. The things Eris did to her, the way he spoke to her. The conflict she felt. 
But then there were moments of immense happiness. Each one of them featured Cassian in one way or another. Images of him lacing up her dresses and placing a kiss on her shoulder when he was done. Her laughing in the early hours of morning with him. I had never seen my brother smile so big or love so much. 
Oh gods Cassian. 
I thought to myself, remembering the look on his face when he saw her lying prone on that bed. His agony that practically filled and infected everything in the room. He needed me, and I needed to see my little sister. 
My tired body creaks as I stand from the chair with a groan, making my way next door to y/n’s room. The same one I used to sneak her out of when we were kids. Sometimes I miss those days and how simple everything was. 
I opened the door slowly to not disturb Cassian. The light from behind me illuminated the mostly dark room. The only other light source was the fire. Cassain was right where I left him, kneeling on by the edge of the bed, stroking her hair whispering sweet nothings to her that I couldn’t hear. 
I make my way inside and close the door to keep in the heat as I sit on the opposite side of the bed. It isn’t until the bed dips under my weight that Cassian’s eyes meet mine. In all the years I’ve known him I had never seen him this way. His eyes were bloodshot and weepy, and the bags under his eyes prevalent. It reminded me of when I thought Feyre had died under the mountain, and I supposed that made sense given this was the same thing.  
“Has she?” I asked, wondering if she had shown any signs of life. 
“No,” was the only answer the general could give me. 
My eyes fell to my sister once more, unable to take the sorrow that came from Cassian’s stare. The frost that once covered her face was now melted, and her lips were no longer blue. However, pink had not yet tinted her cheeks and I wondered if it ever would again. It raised the question, how could I have prevented her from meeting this fate, and prevented Cassain from having to feel this pain. I was the most powerful High Lord in History, but right now I had never felt so small. 
“Why didn’t you tell me she was your mate?” the question spilled out of me. “If I had known I would’ve stopped the wedding immediately.” 
Cassian lifted his head from where it was pressed against her hand and looked at me again, “For the same reason your mate is still in the Spring Court. She deserved to have a choice.” he said to me, and though his words held no anger, no resentment, they were a punch to the gut. 
“I’m a terrible brother,” I admit, my eyes falling to her. 
“No you’re not. She did what she did because you are a good brother. She wanted to help you in any way she could, at any cost.  That’s how much she loves you.” Cassian spoke, his voice quiet and even toned. “But things might’ve been different if you two hadn’t distanced yourselves when you got back from under the mountain. Whatever you guys saw down there? Whatever happened? You need to face it together, Rhys. If she wakes up, you need to be as close as you once were.” 
Gods, for a general my brother had a way with words. He was right about all of it. I had distanced myself from her after we came back. Thinking that I could spare her from the pain I felt, but I had forgotten that she had gone under that mountain with me. She had demons to battle as well, and I left her to fight them alone. 
“She will wake up Cass,” was all I could say. “She has to, because I have to make things right.”
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y/n’s pov: 
Waking up was slow. 
First all I could hear was the crackling of a fire and slow steady breaths. Then I smelled the familiar scent of night blooming jasmine laced with cedar. Next was the immeasurable warmth that fanned my face, and last was the feeling of a strong calloused hand holding my own.
I squeezed that hand ever so slightly before finally opening my eyes. I looked up at the familiar ceiling of my childhood bedroom, the constellations that had been painstakingly painted there. To my left a roaring fire and to my right… Cassian. Kneeling at the edge of the bed his forehead pressed to my hand. His breaths rising and falling slowly, the way they always did when he was asleep. 
“Cass,” I rasped out, my voice still uneasy. 
His head flew up and his eyes were on me in an instant. I loosed a sob at finding that familiar hazel staring back at me. The face I thought I would never see before. 
“Oh my god baby,” he smiled, pressing his lips to my forehead. “You came back to me, thank the Mother.” 
“Cassian, I'm so sorry. I should’ve listened to you.  You were right about everything and I should’ve stayed and-” I began to ramble through  my tears. 
“Shhh, shhh,” he cooed, brushing a tear from my eye as a few of his own fell. “Don’t worry  about that now. You’re safe, no one’s going to hurt you know” 
The bond tugged at his promise and I was reminded of the blessing I had been given, “You’re my mate,” I smiled pressing a hand to his face. He winced at the cold but then laid one of his own hands over it, bringing it down to his lips to press a kiss to my palm. 
“Yeah I am,” he laughs. “And you’re mine.” 
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I asked him as he continued pressing kisses into the palm of my hand. 
“You were already dealing with so much y/n,”  he said softly. “I couldn’t make things even more complicated or try to control your choices. Not when this alliance was the first thing you ever got to choose for yourself. But I should’ve told you and I’m so sorry.”
“Shhhh,” I soothed him like he had me moments ago. “We both made mistakes Cass, but none of that matters now that we’re together again.” 
“You’re right,” he smiled, kissing my forehead.
“The only thing we need to worry about now is Eris and whatever he does next,” I say, rubbing his cheek with my thumb, the stubble there telling me he hadn’t shaved in a while. 
His eyes hardened as he pulled my hand from his cheek, grasping it in both of his hands as if he was praying, “If he comes back for you y/n I will fucking kill him. I swear to the Gods I will invoke the blood duel-”
“You will do nothing of the sort Cassian. I just got you back. I won’t lose you again.” I say firmly. 
“Are you doubting your general?” He gave me a cocky smile.
“No, but I don’t trust Eris to play fair. If he comes back Rhys will deal with him.” I assure him.
“As your mate I have the right to defend you,” he reminds me. 
“You’re right, you do. But if we don’t handle things just right Eris could declare war on us. I won’t let my people be attacked by Hybern and the Autumn Court.” I explained to him. 
Cassain nodded. I could sense the disappointment in him, and I didn’t blame him for feeling that way. I would’ve paid good money to watch him kill Eris. It was scary enough when someone hurt another male's mate. Especially when the affected male is The Lord of Bloodshed. 
“And Cass?” I asked. 
“Yes?”
“You were wrong before, about my choices. The first thing I ever got to choose for myself wasn’t Eris, Cassian. It was you.” I smile looking at the best decision I had ever made. I would never come to regret asking him to kiss me after that ball. Not when it had brought me his love. The best thing I never knew I needed. 
Cassain smiled and then let out a hearty chuckle, as if he had finally realized that I was back, and we were together again, and we would be together until The Mother called us home. 
To be continued…
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pengweng-quack · 30 days
Text
Let’s Get Married in Vegas
Gojo Satoru x Reader (uses second person though mentions of Y/N Y/L/N)
Summary: You and Gojo got drunkenly married in Vegas
Notes:
The song was continuously playing on my TikTok so here we are
Word Count: 1721 words
Masterlist
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It began innocently enough, with just you and Gojo going out to a bar in Vegas for a laid-back evening. After experiencing enough hard days together, the prospect of enjoying some cocktails and laughs sounded like the ideal cure.
The discussion flowed effortlessly as the evening drew on, broken only by fits of laughing and glasses clinking. The bartender recognized you and kept the shots coming without asking any questions. One shot became two, and two shots became four before you lost count how many you and Gojo had taken already.
The competitive side of you two quickly surfaced, as it frequently did in circumstances like this. But instead of the usual competition to see who could drink the most, it devolved into a playful fight to see who was the biggest lightweight. Each successive shot seemed to blur the lines between reality and the carefree abandon of the moment.
“Babe, I think we should go home now.” Gojo stammered, unable to keep his eyes open, his words mumbling together. With his head firmly resting on the table, his breath was hardly audible over the background sounds of the pub.
“Great idea, you're a genius!” You giggled, struggling to keep your balance as you and Gojo stood up, both of you swaying slightly in the process
"Don't fall for me." He replied, his words punctuated by a giddy grin, "I know I'm cute."
While rolling your eyes, you grabbed Gojo's hand, fingers entwined, and pulled him out of the bar. Your movements faltered and you mumbled apologies every time you or Gojo unintentionally bumped into someone.
The world outside seemed to be a blur, with your laughing blending with the noises of the nighttime city as you walked along the sidewalk together under the long shadows made by the streetlights. As you lurched along arm in arm with your boyfriend, there was a feeling of freedom and excitement in the air despite the haze of alcohol clouding your senses.
With only the comfort of each other's presence and the hope of home to guide you, every step was an adventure and every stumble a moment of shared laughter as you made your way through the night.
In his presence, you felt a sense of completeness, a feeling that you had finally found your partner in crime, your companion for life's journey.
And as you leaned into him, the warmth of his presence comforting you despite the chill of the night air, you knew that you were exactly where you were meant to be and who you were meant to be with.
"We should get married!" You drunk yelled as you walk pass the License Bureau
"You're so smart! This is why you're the cutest, most loveliest, person that I love so much!" Gojo yelled happily, standing up straight and pulling you in the place
After you and Gojo laughed and occasionally got confused when navigating through the necessary papers, you both found yourselves ready to exchange vows in front of the altar with an officiant. Between you, jokes and side looks threatened to overshadow the seriousness of the situation as giggles burst into your conversation like an uncontrollable force.
"I vow to cherish every delicate fold of your paper origami creations, each one a testament to your boundless creativity. They will be more than mere artworks to me; they will be precious reminders of your genius, displayed lovingly throughout our home, filling it with the enchantment of your talent. And I promise to share this enchantment with the world, inviting others to marvel at your skill and spreading the joy you bring far and wide."
"I promise to take on any task that weighs heavy on your shoulders, willingly shouldering the burdens you bear. In fact, I'd gladly take on all the chores if you'd allow it, ensuring that you never have to lift a finger again."
"With each beat of my heart, in this life and beyond, I pledge my undying love to you. Every breath I take is dedicated to you, my beloved, filling the air with the essence of our bond."
"I swear to love you not only in this lifetime but in every lifetime that follows, my dearest Y/N Y/L/N-Gojo. Across the vast expanse of time, my love for you will endure, unwavering and eternal."
You smiled tenderly as you heard Gojo recite something from the bottom of his heart, and you could feel his love for you, like a warm hug. His remarks struck a deep chord, underscoring the extent of his love and dedication to you even in his intoxicated state.
You realized then that his commitments were promises carved into his very nature, connecting him to you in an unbreakable tie of love and devotion, and that his vows were more than just words.
“I vow to pour my heart and soul into every delicate fold of paper, infusing each origami masterpiece with the same love and reverence that I hold for you. While I'm thrilled for others to marvel at the beauty of my works, I humbly ask that you keep my struggles a secret, the moments when I nearly surrendered, for they are small sacrifices in comparison to the joy they bring to you.”
“Your willingness to take on all chores touches me deeply, but I vow to uphold our partnership equally. Let our home be a sanctuary where we both find solace and comfort. For it will be us against the world and not just you protecting me from the world anymore.”
“I solemnly swear to defy fate itself if it means spending eternity by your side. Today and in every lifetime to come, I will fight for us, refusing to accept anything less than a lifetime intertwined with yours.”
“Today, tomorrow, and for all the days that follow, I promise to love you more deeply than words can express. In every lifetime, in every incarnation, even if we’re not Satoru Gojo or Y/N Y/L/N, my heart will beat for you alone, endlessly and unconditionally.”
Joyous tears roll down your cheeks, blending with whispered vows and laughter. Your heartbeat rhythmically matches Gojo’s while the officiant explains the intricacies of marriage, since you both know deep down that this moment, which resulted from inebriated choices, is what you both genuinely want.
Between the vows, between the paperwork and the etiquette, your spoken words have ulterior motives. You know you'll never regret this union, even though it was sped up by a wild night of celebration.
Your souls become more and more entwined with each word spoken and gaze exchanged, bound together by an inexplicable love. Although the path to this point may not have been typical, there is no denying the extent of your dedication.
Standing hand in hand, you look at each other, and in that silent moment, you both admit the reality that this is where you belong. This marriage, which was created impulsively, is the best choice you have ever made.
The rest of the night becomes a whirlwind of joy and excitement. Sometime after the ceremony, you and Gojo share a deep, passionate kiss in front of the chapel where you exchanged vows. Cheers erupt from bystanders who witness the tender moment, adding to the magic of the evening.
As you make your way back to the hotel, laughter fills the air as you loudly hum various wedding tunes, your heart overflowing with happiness. You announce your newlywed status to anyone who catches your eye, spreading the contagious joy of your union to all who cross your path.
With each step, the world seems to sparkle a little brighter, and as you finally arrive at your hotel, hand in hand with your beloved, you know that this night will be etched in your memories forever. It's a celebration of love, spontaneity, and the beautiful journey that lies ahead as partners in life.
When the morning came, you sighed and grudgingly opened your eyes as the morning sunlight crept through the curtains, wincing at the brightness that seemed to intensify the pounding headache you were trying to nurse.
“What the fuck was last night?” You muttered, your voice hoarse as you struggled to piece together the events of the previous evening.
Blinking away the haze of sleep, you finally focused on the figure standing before you. Gojo stood there, clutching a handful of papers, his expression a mix of astonishment and disbelief
“Last night was this.” Gojo answered, passing the papers to you
With shaky hands, you accepted them, and the big words "Marriage Certificate" emblazoned at the top caught your attention right away. You were completely confused, but as you quickly reviewed the document, a wave of memories from the previous evening suddenly came back to you, helping you piece together the sequence of events that had led to this.
“We’re married.” You stated plainly, staring at Gojo with wide eyes as the reality sank in.
“Do you not want to be?” He asked, a hint of amusement in his voice as he turned towards the kitchen of your hotel room
“Of course I do! I just— I’m very confused.” You rambled nervously, feeling the need to clarify as you hurried to catch up with him
“I’m glad, because I’d love to marry you again.” Gojo declared, turning around with a mischievous grin. In his hand, he held a beautiful diamond engagement ring nestled in a red velvet box, the vivid blue of the diamond sparkling brilliantly under the room's light
“I think I remember most of what I said last night. So, Y/N Y/L/N, will you give me the honor of reciting it again, this time sober and in front of people that we care about?” Gojo asked, his voice filled with sincerity as he gracefully went down on one knee, presenting the ring to you with a heartfelt gaze
“Y/N Y/L/N, will you give me the honor of marrying you, again?”
You weren't even sure if you gave him a proper answer, your heart racing as you mirrored his gesture, sinking to your knees and pulling him into a deep, passionate kiss. It was a silent affirmation, one that spoke volumes without the need for words. In that moment, you knew your answer was clear.
You were more than ready to marry him again.
Sober, this time.
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padfootagain · 4 months
Text
Black Dog Neighbour
Hi everyone ! Today, we’re answering a request made for my 6k followers event by @nobodyshomearchive : “hi hello lovely xxi have been hooked to your blog lately, and to say that is an understatement in all honesty. congratulations on 6k followers <33 so for your celebration can i get an enemies to lovers (ouh massive surprise 👀) with sirius black (preferably post azkaban but it's okay if you don't want to!) cause i'm literally so head over heels for that man. and i'm loving your something good series :) again, congrats and feel free to ignore the request if you don't feel like writing it/it doesn't hit your creative spot.
have a great day/night hun <;3”
Thank you so much for your request, and I hope you like this! I didn’t do post-azkaban Sirius, because he doesn’t exist in my brain. I have been in denial for so long, the Potters are living their best lives, didn’t you know?!
Anyway, still went for post-Hogwarts and post-war Sirius, simply didn’t include anything referencing to Azkaban or… anything canon compliant, to be fair. But as per usual for me when it comes to this character…
Hope you like this! Tell me what you think!
****
Pairing: Sirius Black x reader
Warnings: A small warning for an ex being an arse and showing up drunk on your doorstep (there’s nothing violent, but you do physically push him away, so heads up on that, just in case). But the rest’s cuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuute!!!
Summary: God, you hate that guy next door. Bloody annoying neighbour with his noisy motorcycle, his loud friends, his annoying laugh, his charming smile, his amazing hair, his effortless way to sport sexy leather jackets. He’s insufferable, you hate him to bits. The fact that he’s a talented wizard who can magically change into a dog to guard your door when your ex comes bothering you again will not change your first impression in the slightest, by the way. You still hate him to guts. Probably…
Word count: 4592
Sirius Black Masterlist – Main Masterlist
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Sirius fucking Black.
Your neighbour, aka worst enemy, aka the person you despise the most on earth.
He is loud. He is annoyingly pretty. He is getting on your fucking nerves... again!
Of course, it is Friday night, which means that his stupid friends are over for a “boys’ night”. What a scam…
In consequence, you are currently casting sound-proofing spells all over your walls in an attempt to shush their idiotic laughs. And especially Sirius’s; his unmistakable bark-like laughter, loud and boisterous and absolutely prone to draw a grin from your face even if you don’t mean to. By Agrippa’s hat, you will soon either cut his throat or call for an auror. Or maybe you could burst into his apartment and shout into his face just so he can see how bloody annoying that is. Or kissing him to shut him up sounds like a plan, too…
You shake your head, grinning at your own genius idea. Sirius and his friends are being rudely loud again, when you have already told them a thousand times – which is to say every Friday for the last six months, since Sirius moved in the apartment next to yours – that the walls in this old building of Diagon Alley are too thin, that you can hear everything going on in Sirius’s apartment despite sound-proofing spells… and that they need to keep it down past 11pm because you have work the next day. The absolute dread of working in retails does not, by any means, spare the Wizards and Witches of this world…
You look through your apartment for the object that would make the most noise. You give a few items a try, but settle for the good old pan and spoon. Ha, what precious allies these two are, never failing you.
You add a little spell to amplify sounds – just for good measure – find some earplugs, and then proceed to bang the shit out of that pan, right by your common wall with Sirius’s apartment.
It goes on for five full minutes before you manage to catch the quietened sound of something against your door…
And sure enough, when you stop and take your earplugs out, someone is banging at your door.
“Y/N!” a voice that you easily recognize shouts. “STOP THIS FUCKING NOISE!”
You open the door wide, and have to bend to the side to avoid Sirius’s fist as it misses the door.
“Merlin! Sorry! You’re okay? I didn’t touch you, right?” Sirius asks with anger instantly replaced with worry.
“I have amazing reflexes.”
And anger is back into his dark grey eyes again...
“What the fuck are you doing in there?! Are you mental?!”
“I don’t know, Sirius. I didn’t notice anything over the cacophony of your friends shouting into my ears all night!”
His jaw clenches, and you hate yourself for noticing the trembling of the muscle there, and finding it terribly attractive…
“And you had to make all this ruckus instead of simply walking three meters to my door and nicely ask us to shut our mouths because…?”
“Because I’ve asked you dozens of times, this has been going on for fucking months, Sirius!”
He rolls his eyes, and Merlin do you want to punch him straight across the jaw… his very sharp, very pretty jaw…
“We’re just having a nice evening…”
“And I am trying to sleep!”
“It’s barely midnight!”
“I work tomorrow, you asshole!”
“Ermm… guys?”
“WHAT?!” you both exclaim, turning to face a shy-looking Remus.
“Sorry about the noise, Y/N. We’ll be more careful next time. We’ll leave for the evening.”
“You don’t have to leave…” Sirius complains, but James is already walking out, helping a drunk Peter to cross the corridor.
“It’s late, anyway. Lily’s gonna worry, I was supposed to be home twenty minutes ago,” James argues, and Sirius has to yield.
“Alright, see you on Sunday, then!” he shoots his friends a grin, and the group waves at you.
You rudely ignore them, crossing your arms before your chest. And as Sirius turns back to you, his frown is icy and he quickly matches your stance.
“You’re such a pain in my ass, Y/N…”
“And you’re a jerk.”
“Asshole.”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?”
“You’re one to talk!”
“Oh, you talk plenty enough for both of us. And loudly so!”
Before he can reply, you’ve stepped back into your apartment and slammed the door.
You hear him pestering after you for a moment, then nothing, and finally a door slamming.
Well, that went well…
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You are in trouble.
Big… huge trouble.
Your ex has just stepped into your shop, and you don’t know how to react.
You didn’t break up in a horrendous way, on the contrary! He wanted the two of you to remain friends, and you simply didn’t, worried that you wouldn’t be able to get over each other if you stayed in touch. And by the look he gave you as he stepped inside your shop ten minutes ago, and the many glances he’s thrown at you since, you’re pretty sure that you were right about this.
It's not like your relationship was terrible, by any means. Josh was nice, reliable, but also… not for you. You didn’t have much in common, at the end of the day, and if his personality and looks were nice, it was hard to build a lasting relationship on… nothing. It was for the best that you called it quits.
And as if your day needed any darkening, Sirius Black chooses this very moment to step into your shop. You don’t wait for him to aim for the counter to take out a large pouch in which you have gathered all the ingredients for his friend’s monthly brew. He smiles at the sight, moves towards you. And you hate yourself for the leap your heart makes as he comes closer.
“Hi, Y/N.”
“Hi.”
It’s the first time you speak to each other since the ‘spoon and pan incident’, and you both hesitate. How are you supposed to act now? Apologise for being petty and kind of a dick? Ask for his apology for being a dick? Act like nothing happened?
“Thanks for Remus’s stuff,” Sirius says, voice quieter than usual, gentle, asking for a truce.
Outside, it’s snowing, winter claiming the streets of London, and there are little snowflakes caught in Sirius’s hair. It looks lovely.
All of a sudden, you’re longing for some eggnog, and some pumpkin pie.
His fingers are cold when they meet yours, tips brushing over your knuckles as he picks up the bag, and you hate your own heart for stammering.
“No problem. You know the drill,” you tentatively smile, while Sirius hands you some silvery Sickles.
“I would also need pearl dust, please. Here’s the amount.”
He hands you a parchment with quantities written on it, four small packages to be prepared separately.
“How many hearts do you intend to break with so many love potions?” you joke, turning around to get to work.
The brass scale is set on a small table, pushed right against the wall, behind the counter. It is an easy task for a professional like you, measuring quickly while Sirius laughs.
“No one, thankfully,” he replied.
“Oh… some Amortentia, perhaps? Trying to figure out who your crush likes?”
“No… nothing like that. It’s the properties for invisibility that I’m looking for.”
“If you plan on breaking into Gringotts, I don’t want to know.”
Again, a loud laugh. And you wish you could hold back your smile, but you can’t, the sound is too infectious for that.
You’ve forgotten that your ex is here, you’re reminded of his presence only when you turn back towards Sirius and he’s standing right behind your tall neighbour, a bag of potion ingredients in his hands.
You avert your eyes, and Sirius frowns at the sight. He glances over his shoulder, spots your ex, but says nothing. You only notice how he tightens his hold on the pouch.
“Pearl dust’s quite expensive,” you tell him, handing him the phials, before announcing the price.
“That’s alright.”
He hands you the galleons, takes the vials, but doesn’t step away just yet.
“You… you’re okay?” he asks, and you’re not sure what to do with his expression. It’s somewhere between annoyance and genuine concern.
“Yeah, sure.”
He nods, like he’s disappointed. He’s not bringing up The Incident, and so you won’t either.
“Right, good day.”
He turns in a hurry, not waiting for your answer, but you notice the way he throws a look back before stepping out into the street, snow falling over his dark coat and dark hair again. You hate how your eyes linger on his frame until he’s out of sight, walking down the busy street, but you can’t help it…
“Hello, Y/N.”
You’re brought back to Earth as your ex speaks, and you turn to him, your smile turning from genuine to polite.
“Hi, Josh.”
“How are you?”
“Good! Do you need anything else?” you ask, pointing at the ingredients he’s put on the counter.
“Huh… no, nothing else.”
“That makes two Galleons, 5 Sickles and 3 Knuts, please.”
He hands you some money, and you hand him his change. You see him hesitating, before diving.
“Look, I… I came here hoping to see you.”
“Oh.”
“Yeah, I… I’ve been meaning to tell you. I’ve been thinking a lot lately, about what happened, and… Look, I know I could have done better when it came to us. And I thought… perhaps… if you were willing to give me another chance…”
“Josh…”
“Just… hear me out...”
“No. I’m sorry, but no. We… we were not compatible, that’s all. I like you, you’re nice, but… It won’t work between us.”
Slowly, he nodded, apparently defeated. And when another client cleared their throat behind him, he finally left.
What a mess of a morning…
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It is Friday night, and the Marauders are keeping it down. You are surprised by it, but you can only praise these men for being, for once, well-behaved. 11:30, as you slip under the covers, ready for some well-deserved rest before waking up too early to open the shop in the morning. You are ready to fall into Morpheus’s arms and abandon yourself to slumber when someone knocks on your door.
You ignore the sound for a while, but it starts again, and again…
And you thought Sirius was making some efforts. You were ready to commit murder…
You stand up, grab a bathrobe and walk to the door, ready to throw hands with Sirius at this point. Only… only, when you actually open the door, it’s not Sirius who’s facing your wrath.
It’s Josh.
“What… What are you doing here?” you ask, too stunned to think about being polite. “It’s almost midnight.”
But then he looks up at you, and you notice at once that he’s been drinking. His eyes are glimmering, he sways slightly before finding back his balance…
“Josh…”
“Y/N, I… I know that now is not the time, but… please, give me another chance. Please…”
“Josh, we’ve talked about this. Us… it’s over. We’re not getting back together. I’m sorry.”
“But I can try and be better. I’ll be better, let me show you.”
You push him off when he staggers forward, trying to hold you.
“Josh! Stop it!” you raise your voice, trying to get him to let go.
“Please…”
“I said no! Get off!”
He’s finally letting go, but doesn’t take a step back. Instead, he leans against your doorframe, not stepping inside, but making it impossible for you to simply go back in and close the door.
“Josh! Go away! I’m sorry, but this is over between us. You have to leave me alone!”
“But I don’t want to! Y/N!”
“Hey!”
You’re both distracted by the new voice that comes shouting through the corridor. Sirius is standing before his front door, wearing a Queen t-shirt and some dark sweatpants, in what you guess his is nightly outfit. Still, when he comes nearer, hair tied in a bun, glowering, he looks intimidating, tattoos all over his arms on full display, traces of ink peeking above the collar of his t-shirt.
You think for a second that he’s going to make a scene because of how noisy you are right now, not ironic at all given his habits of messing your sleeping schedule, and you’re ready to get angry at him, because this truly is the last thing you need tonight, when…
“You leave her the fuck alone!”
You’re too stunned to react when Sirius comes to stand right by your side.
“She told you to fuck off, so you fuck off!”
“Who the fuck are you?” Josh replied, words a little slurred.
“Her boyfriend,” Sirius lies, but it works wonders, as Josh becomes suddenly very pale. “Now, you fuck off, or I’ll throw you out of the building.”
“You? With him?” Josh asks as he turns to you, and you feel pity for the pain in his eyes, but you don’t regret leaving him.
“Yeah. He’s my boyfriend. Now, please, Josh… leave me alone.”
But he shakes his head.
“I can’t. I can’t. I still love you…”
Sirius looks at you, but you shake your head.
“You have to leave me alone and move on.”
“No… I… I’ll come back later…”
Sirius notices your worry, it almost looks like fear, and he doesn’t hesitate when he grabs Josh by the collar.
“You listen to me now, dickhead,” Sirius growls, it’s almost animalistic, and you’re frozen by this threatening tone of his. “If you set a foot in this building again, if you go see her at her shop, if you so much as breathe in her direction or step in the street she’s in, I will come for you, and I will make sure you can never bother her again. Do you get that?”
“You’re bluffing.”
Sirius grins, something twisted and terribly dark, and even you shiver when he speaks again, voice low and terrible.
“I fought for the Order during the war. I’m a Black. Trust me, you don’t want to fuck with me.”
Slowly, Josh nods, struggling to swallow.
“So… will you leave her alone?”
Again, Josh nods.
“Good boy. Now get the fuck out of here.”
He’s barely released Josh that he’s sprinting down the stairs, stumbling and catching himself against the wall, before disappearing.
But you don’t see that. You’re staring at Sirius, and seem unable to look away.
“You’re alright?”
You’re startled by the softness Sirius’s voice is now wearing, such a stark contrast with the threatening tone he wore a minute ago.
“Y/N? You’re okay? He didn’t hurt you, right?”
“What? No… no, I’m fine! He just… showed up and I couldn’t get rid of him.”
“Yeah, I figured.”
“Thank you,” you whisper as he gets closer.
“You’re sure you’re alright?”
“Yeah, just… a little shaken, I think.”
Slowly, Sirius nods.
“Hey, no need to worry, okay? I’ll keep an eye out tonight. He won’t bother you again. And if he does, in the coming days or weeks, and I’m not around, then you come and tell me. I’ll give him a good fright, and he’ll leave you alone.”
“Thanks but… why would you do that for me? You hate me.”
Sirius chuckles at that, raising an eyebrow.
“I don’t hate you. You’re annoying, but I don’t hate you.”
“Oh…”
His touch is infinitely gentle when he rests his hand on your arm.
“You can go back to sleep. Don’t worry, he won’t bother you again tonight. I promise.”
Slowly, you nod, a little too stunned to complain or argue or discuss what has just happened. Instead, you walk back to your apartment, lock the door, and go back to bed, thinking about the way Sirius’s hands looked gentle without his rings…
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You’re in a hurry this morning. Your brain has not finished to process everything that has happened last night, but this will have to wait. You must rush to the shop, and you can’t find your bloody wand…
Ha! There! What is it doing under the couch? Never mind, you need to hurry, and you need to hurry now!
Only, when you open the front door, you almost trip onto a large black door sleeping on your threshold. A huge black dog, as a matter of fact.
“What in Merlin’s beard…?!”
His ears perk up at the sound of your voice, and he looks up at you with dark grey eyes that remind you of someone…
But it’s impossible, of course. That must be his dog, though. Since when does Sirius has a dog though?!
The animal slowly stands, a real giant, all dark fur and intimidating growls, until he’s shaken some sleep off its frame, and then he looks up at you, as if expecting a command.
“Hi,” you say, feeling foolish, but finding nothing better to say.
The dog merely comes closer, slowly, ears down in submission, as if he’s worried to scare you away. You hold out your hand, and he hurries to rub his snout into it, licking your fingers.
You giggle at the sensation.
“You look intimidating, but you’re a good boy, aren’t you?”
He barks in agreement, and you give him scratches as a reward.
“Who do you belong to, huh? Are you Sirius’s dog?”
The dog merely licks your fingers again.
“You look the part, at least. You fit the motorcycle-and-leather-jackets aesthetic.”
A few scratches more, and you finally remember that you are running late…
“Shoot!”
You lock the door, hurry towards the stairs. But you stop the dog when he tries to follow.
“No, no, no! I’m going to work, you stay here. I’m sure Sirius will be back soon. You stay here.”
The dog blinks, but sits anyway, letting you go.
For the whole trip to the store, you wonder who this dog belongs to, and who would let him sleep outside like this. If he really did belong to Sirius, he would hear about this…
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Your day is a weird one.
After arriving almost late, but not quite, you spend your morning being busy and running around the store looking for the right ingredients for various potions and clients. And yet, several times during your shift, you feel someone looking at you.
The first time, it’s Sirius, who’s squinting on the other side of the glass door. He looks away the second your eyes land on him, and you’re almost certain that he blushes, although you didn’t think it to be possible to make Sirius Black blush.
The second time, it’s the black dog again, who remains sitting by the door under the falling snow for about ten minutes before leaving.
The third time, it’s the dog again, you see him being petted by a customer as she walks out of the shop.
But if the dog belongs to Sirius, then you guess that he’s been around several times throughout the day, which seems odd. Also, you want to chastise him for leaving the animal alone in the cold for extended periods of time throughout the day. Is he heartless?!
So, as you go home that night, you leave your coat in your apartment before heading to Sirius’s.
He answers on the second knock.
“Oh! Hi, Y/N!” he grins a welcome at you. “Need anything?”
“Yeah… I wanted to talk to you, if you have a minute.”
He merely nods, moving to let you inside.
You’ve been here a couple of times before, but you still appreciate the warm atmosphere of the large space that forms his living room. A huge Gryffindor flag is hung across the wall on the right, while windows let you see falling snow over the roofs of Diagon Alley on the opposite side of the room. A large chimney surrounded by comfortable armchairs and sofas, along with a soft red carpet seem to call for you.
“So? What can I do for you, Y/N?”
You turn to him again while he points at the sofa, silently inviting you to sit, but you remain standing. You cross your arms, and he frowns at the sight.
“Where’s your dog?”
Your tone is sharper now, and his frown only deepens, brows knitted together.
“My what?”
“Your dog. Huge. Black. Looks like he could bite my throat off.”
“I don’t have a dog.”
“Really? He’s been following me around all day. He was on my threshold this morning…”
“…Y/N…” he tries to interrupt you, but you don’t let him.
“No! Listen… Thank you for what you did last night. I was really… Thank you. Josh wouldn’t leave and you were most definitely helpful. But let’s be clear, I’m a big girl, and I can take care of myself! I don’t need your protection or anything, got it?”
You wonder why he’s smiling now, but he is all the same.
“Got it. Was just trying to be helpful.”
“You were.”
“Good.”
“Good. But your good action doesn’t mean that I’m going to accept any harm coming to this cute dog of yours!”
“I thought he wanted to bite your throat off.”
“He looked like he could. He was pretty sweet, though.”
“Hmmm…”
“Anyway… what’s wrong with you!? Leaving him outside all night and then in the street while it was snowing!?”
“Y/N, relax. I don’t have a dog, let me explain.”
“Then whose dog is it? Cause we have to find his owner, I’m going to throw hands!”
Sirius laughs, his usual, bark-like laugh, and your puzzled by the sound. It resembles a bark even more than usual.
Sirius heaves a sigh, shakes his head, apparently hesitating, but eventually, he takes a step closer.
“You have to promise me that you won’t tell anyone about this.”
“Why?”
“Because if you do, I might be arrested.”
Your eyes grow round.
Oh dear… the…
“…Potion. The potion! You’ve done something illegal with it!”
Sirius laughs again.
“The pearl dust you mean? It’s just a trick for my godson, for Christmas. How do you think the presents get under the tree without anyone carrying them in? The fellow is a rascal, standing watch all night to catch Santa red-handed. We need to get more and more creative each year. No, don’t worry, it’s nothing like that.”
“Oh… but then… what are you talking about?”
“Do you promise that you won’t tell?”
“Have you killed someone?”
“Of course not!”
“I don’t know, you were pretty… scary last night.”
“Did I scare you?”
“No… but Josh was ready to faint.”
He laughs again at that.
“I haven’t harmed anyone.”
“Okay… then, I promise.”
Sirius hesitates some more, before warning you not to freak out. You don’t have time to question him though, he’s already transforming into…
“… the black dog!”
You gasp at the sight, but you don’t back away when Sirius approaches under his animagus form. Instead, you reach out for him, giving him a few scratches between his ears, making him wiggle his tail happily.
“Oh wow… you’re an animagus! This is beautiful…”
He laughs as he changes back into human, the sound still somewhere close to a growl.
“Am I a good boy, then?” he teases, making you laugh. “No need to call for the animal welfare…”
“But… what were you doing around the shop today? And last night? Did you sleep on the porch?”
Sirius averts his eyes, and you have to double-check, but you’re certain that he is blushing right now.
“Ha, that… I didn’t mean to look like a creep or anything. But I… I was worried your ex would come back. Just wanted to check on you, ‘s all. I didn’t follow you around or anything! I just… went to check that you were alright at the shop a few times.”
“Why?”
He looks up at you with a slight frown, as if it is obvious, as if you’re stupid for not guessing.
“Because… I was worried about you.”
“About me?”
“Is it so surprising?”
“You hate me.”
“Again, I don’t hate you. You’re simply annoying the shit out of me. I like it, actually.”
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
“Oh.”
You blink, trying to make sense of all this, and Sirius looks at you with amusement.
“Is that why you were quiet last night? To not bother me?”
“Oh, the boys weren’t here. Busy week. We’ll be back at being insufferable next Friday.”
You roll your eyes at that, but Sirius laughs.
“I’m joking! I understand, okay? We’re too loud. We’ll keep it down from now on.”
“Right, okay…”
He bit his lip, ran a hand through his hair, in what you guess is shyness. God, you would have never thought to use this adjective to describe him. His rings catch the warm light of the fire burning in the hearth as he moves his fingers through his hair.
“Look, I… I’m sorry for the other night. Actually… for all the other nights. We’ll be more careful next time,” he says, and you raise an eyebrow in surprise.
You never thought you would hear an apology from him, even less so an earnest one, and yet…
“Thank you, Sirius. I’m sorry, too. It was petty and uncalled for.”
“No, you… you were right.”
He heaves a frustrated sigh, runs a hand through his long dark curls again, rebel strands falling before his eyes. You hold tightly onto the sleeve of your hoodie, refraining the sudden urge to push the curls away from his face, brush them behind his ear…
“Look, I… I don’t want us to be on bad terms,” Sirius goes on. “Could I make up for being a dickhead by buying you some fancy Christmas drink? My treat. As a token of good faith and a sign for peace in our building?”
He offers you his open palm, and you shake hands with a smile adorning both of your faces.
“Deal.”
“Any afternoon free this week?”
“Wednesday?”
“Then, I’ll buy you the fanciest cocoa I can find. And even some pumpkin pie, if you’re nice.”
“Sounds good.”
You’re reluctant to pull away but have to let go of his hand.
“Actually… scratch that,” Sirius shakes his head. “Would you go on a date with me?”
Your eyes grow round.
“A date? With you?”
“Yeah. On Wednesday?”
“But… with you?”
“Don’t act so surprised. You really think I play bodyguard for just anybody?”
You laugh at that, you can’t help it, even if you’re still quite stunned by the whole situation.
You weight your options, but then you look at him again, and the answer you want to give is obvious, even if he gets on your nerves all the bloody time…
“Okay. A date. On Wednesday.”
He grins, bright and infectious.
“Great! Awesome!”
“Great.”
“Great.”
You remain staring at each other for a moment, both of you trying to hide your excitement, until you finally clear your throat.
“I should…” you begin, pointing at the door.
“Sure… busy day?”
“You can’t imagine.”
“Hmm…”
You hurry towards the door, feeling overwhelmed by his nearness.
“See you on Wednesday then!” he calls after you as you reach for your own door.
“Sure! But it better be the best hot chocolate I’ve drunk, or I’ll ask for a refund!”
He laughs, and when you turn one last time towards him, Sirius is leaning against his doorframe, staring at you with a grin on his lips and mischief painted all over his features. He winks, and your heart skips several beats.
“Oh, don’t worry. You won’t regret this.”
*********************************
Taglist :
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jinkookspencil · 7 months
Text
like couples do | knj
you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....
description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3
wc: ~1.6k words
+
Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.
Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...
Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.
Fuck.
Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.
Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection… 
It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.
This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening. 
The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.
Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.
You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.
He had to answer.
+
to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?
to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.
to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.
to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain
to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….
to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.
to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember? 
to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon 
to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.
to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)
+
The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.
“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”
“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table. 
“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.
“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.
“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.
“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.
“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.
“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation. 
Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”
“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.
“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”
Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.
“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”
Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.
“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.
"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.
"Oh, she’s pretty!”
"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."
"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.
“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"
"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.
"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”
“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage. 
“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….” 
“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."
“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.
“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.
“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.
“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes. 
“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”
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marchsfreakshow · 1 month
Text
Gotta Dance! [Peter Maximoff]
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Fluff//drabble
You like to dance to yourself to whatever cassette you had in your walkman, and when a silver haired friend of yours finds you, he decides to just have a bit of fun.
Omg okay I finished 3 xmen movies with Maximoff in em, and gah I understand why people love him now. Heres a fic.
I made it decently time accurate I think so tell me if there are any inaccuracies.
No one's perspective
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷
Peter was always one to dance if he had a chance, especially to his own music taste. Classical or fancy music was always too slow.
So why on earth was he staring at you through a window? Watching you move around the empty hall, at 1am in the dark. Music in your headphones, blasting at a volume that could've burst anyone's eardrums. Yet, he couldn't tell the song playing in your ears. All he could tell was that he liked the way you moved. Swift movements, like an audience being danced around, walking around your footsteps. You were in your own mind, not particularly caring if anyone else was awake. If someone was, it was probably Charles, attempting some work.
A new pair of footsteps once you were done. Now, catching your breath, you were sat in one of the corners, admiring the hall around you. The rest of your music went on, and you didn't hear the steps until they stopped next to you. A hand pulling your headphones off your head. Your reaction was quick, and you grabbed his wrist tightly. "Hey! Calm, just noticed you were alone. That's all." That voice was so familiar to you. So close to your memory.
You let go of his wrist slowly but kept your eyes on the dark figure standing beside you. "What you are doing up at 1 in the morning then?" You questioned, trying to piece together a puzzle. The answer? Who was it smooth-talking their way into your tired mind? Then a glimmer of the moonlight hit mystery figure's hair. A silver shimmer. Of fucking course. Peter Maximoff. The one person who you particularly did not hope saw you dance just now.
"Fast body fast brain. Can never usually slow down enough to get enough sleep."
An eyebrow raised then crossed arms. "You sure about that Silver? Every time I go to talk to you, you're snoring the whole school down."
"Silver? Very creative."
"Silver Sliver. Like a silver snake who slivers around whenever he gets a chance." A cocky grin as you reminded Peter of why you nicknamed him 'silver sliver' a nickname always on the tip of your tongue. But also now ignoring the sneaky jab about how much he actually slept.
He hummed and nodded towards your own Walkman. "Who are you listening to?"
"This new singer I found called Taco. He's literally called Taco it's so funny." You rambled, rewinding it to the previous song and putting the headphones on him.
Puttin' On The Ritz.
It was smooth, almost buttery to you, but Maximoff simply stood there and nodded along. "Too slow for you Silver?" A chuckle escaped you, leaning your elbow on the radiator.
"Not at all." He grinned. Not that you could see how he grinned. But the way he spoke made you think he was planning something. Hands grabbing yours, pulling you away from your safe little corner. A groan was heard along with a small fit of giggles. What on earth had you dragged yourself into?
In the silence, the faint tune of the song was heard, and he started to dance, holding your hands, and whipping you around. Even in the musk of the night both of you held eye contact with each other, feeling oh so fancy with a song about The Ritz. What an odd feeling to have with your best friend. Sensing comfort when he held you close, exaggerating his steps, exaggerating his facial expressions even though you couldn't see them that well. That damn speedster.
Minutes went by fast. Both of you stood wherever as the new song could faintly be heard. "You're a good dancer." You noted with a smile, still holding hands and reluctant to let go.
"yeah. I think you're pretty good too." Cocky as ever. Feeling like he was on top of the world or something. "So..." Maximoff started, you hummed and tilted your head to the side slightly.
"Can I get you a drink or something?"
"...Sure." a little laugh. "Preferably when it's daytime."
A shared nod before the speedster brought you close again and danced with you.
⊹˚.⋆ ₊꒷ᘏᘏ︶ଓ︶꒷꒦⊹˚ᗢ₊꒷︶ଓ︶꒷
Tagging those who might enjoy this: @babygorewhore @silverzoomies @taintandviolent @slutforgarlogan @slvt4jamesmarch @coentinim @fear-is-truth
(other mutuals let me know if you would like a tag 💜)
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dekus-fellow-crybaby · 3 months
Text
Bibliophile Brew
Pairings: Bakudeku x barista!reader
Summary: When managing your parent's book cafe while they're away, you meet Wonder Duo Dynamight and Deku.
Warnings: SFW. No smut, but (bc I'm me) it may be included in part 2, so Minors DNI. Fluff, aged-up characters, minor SA mentioned briefly but not described (old perv gets handsy with a teenage barista), language, misunderstanding, eventual BKDK x reader. Lmk if I forgot anything!
I’ll release part 2 when this reaches 100 likes and 25 reblogs!
Word Count: 5.5k
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God, the morning rush sucks. You wish something more creative or productive was swimming in your head while looking at the long line of impatient people crowding the cafe. You send a silent prayer that you don’t catch whatever illness plagued your morning barista that caused her to call out so suddenly before her shift that caused you to cover for her…on your one day off. Sometimes helping with running your family's business sucks.
"Thank you, and have a great day!" you say sweetly as you hand the customer their order before rushing back to the cash register for the next order. The entire morning was a back-and-forth of rushed orders, messily thrown together coffees, and half-listened to thanks. Luckily, most were your regulars, and you had a fairly solid routine down for the typical orders. It was all going very smoothly for a solo shift. Until near the end of the rush when some new people came in.
The dwindled crowd of customers parted like the Red Sea with the presence of a spiky-headed blonde with red eyes and a bubbly man with a black cap over a head of curly green hair. That man stopped to talk to a few of the customers who swarmed him, pulling the mask down his face and offering a dazzling smile. The other man's face fell into indifference while his partner busied himself with chatting, and he made his way up to the front of the line as the rest of your customers broke formation in crowding the other man. If you hadn't been so sleep-deprived from the closing shift the night before and running around the entirety of the opening shift, you might have recognized the customer in front of you and his friend as pro heroes number one and two in their streetwear, but you were dazed and too tired to realize that fact. You give your signature customer service smile—the exact same one that you give to all your customers—and then ask for his order. In a gruff, perpetually agitated tone, he recites his and the other man's orders. The rest of the cafe seems to be bursting with nervous energy, something you dismiss, thinking that maybe these people know each other (you don’t know them so can’t rule it out)—the green-haired man certainly is friendly enough with everyone to have so many connections—or maybe these men were idols—they both are by far pretty enough, and it's not like you'd know either way since your life was far too busy to keep up with the trending celebrities. But something about them does strike you as familiar...whatever, you don't have time to ruminate on that now.
You scribble down both orders and you utter the simple question, "Name?" without looking up while you're writing. A moment passes and you look up at the blonde, confusion hitting you at the shock on his face.
"You...don't know my name?" He almost scoffs while asking the question, and a huff of a breathless, disbelieving laugh passes his lips as if that explanation is utterly ridiculous.
"Umm," you felt stuck. If you answer honestly, you have the feeling that he would take offense. If you lie, well, you don't lie. You hate liars and you've learned that dishonesty has a way of making any situation worse. Not to mention, he would be expecting you to write his name on the cup, and you seriously doubt your ability to pull a name out of your ass and be right about it. "I—umm—should I?" Yeah, he seems mad, or at least, incredulous at the idea that you don't know who he is.
He opens his mouth to respond but before a syllable leaves him, the green-haired man comes behind him, patting him on the back while sending you a charming smile over his shoulder. He maneuvers to stand next to his partner, circling the three of you in your own conversation. "You can just put it under Kacchan," he says sweetly, smiling brightly. The blonde scoffs while the greenette pulls out 10,000 yen from his wallet and hands it to you. You scramble to gather his change before he waves off your slightly panicked monetary calculations. "You can keep the change."
"But..." you're dumbfounded while staring at the half-collected change in your hands. "But I can't—I mean, you're order was only 1,700 yen–"
"He said take the fucking change!" the blonde bursts out, crossing his arms with a scowl and sending your shoulders jumping from the harsh sound. "Just be grateful for it! Geez!"
“Kacchan!” The green-haired man pats the blonde's arm soothingly with a juxtaposed pointed look on his facial features.
"I-I am grateful!" you stammer, bowing slightly to the two men. "I apologize, I just didn't want to unwittingly take advantage and wanted to be certain. It-it was just a bit shocking, is all."
"Oh, no need to apologize!" The greenette man begins to ramble, shaking his hands in front of himself. "I really appreciate your integrity! It means a lot! Not a lot of vendors are so honest, so it is a really admirable quality! N-not that I meant that I don’t trust workers! I’m not making a generalization to your profession or anything! We're sure you work very hard and that it’s a difficult job! You know, you just hear all these horror stories about service industry jobs and the sort of nightmare customers you're sure to put up with. Not that anyone in here seems like a nightmare customer! Though, I am sure that you put up with plenty of those kinds of customers too...I'm sure that we seem like nightmare customers...Just ignore Kacchan, he's always had an--umm--explosive personality. But consider this as a tip. Not that--uhh--not that it looks like you need it or anything! This isn’t charity...It's more like an apology, I guess. The point that I was trying to make is please keep the change and please don't feel uncomfortable about it at all." He ends his ramblings with a somewhat nervous smile and a slight blush over his cheeks, which oddly enough, eases your own anxiety. You offer a shy smile and nod.
"Thank you, sir," you say as you put the change back into the till. You give them the receipt and move to make the drinks, finally noticing the amount of eyes that are on the two customers. Were they all watching?
You make the new order with lightning speed and accuracy, giving them their drinks with a sweet smile and a friendly, "Thank you, and have a great day!" The boys smile at you—well, the green-haired man smiles and the blonde offers a half-hearted nod of recognition—and you hop right back into your flow, taking the next customer while the blonde grabs the greenette’s arms to drag him away from heading to the door and instead taking the corner booth. You can't help but notice the number of people whose eyes are instantly drawn to the two, even as you're taking orders from your newly distracted patrons. Eventually, the crowd dissipates, each customer making sure to pay a visit to the corner booth before leaving. You can't help the way your eyebrows pull together at the way everyone is acting towards the two. You decide that they have to be idols or something, but it's not your place to ask or bother them about it. They're your customers, their business is their own.
With the sudden lull of having only a few patrons left, you start making the cleaning rounds, wiping down every inch of your parent's cafe with disinfectant, bouncing from table to empty table, picking up trash, and cleaning every surface. You try not to let your eyes drift to the mystery men, but you can't help the way your curious mind keeps drifting back to them. You could swear that they look familiar, though you're also sure that you would remember two handsome faces such as theirs.
While you're distracting yourself by cleaning the front glass on the display case, you feel an unnatural heat coming from behind you. Turning your head, you jump back into the glass case, startled by the blonde's sudden appearance and close proximity. You gather that this man isn't well-versed in social normalities, otherwise he wouldn’t be invading your space. He's not even phased by your skittishness, though you're suddenly sheepish about your dramatic reaction.
"Sorry," you stutter softly, nervously scratching a nail at the back of your ear. "Can I help you?"
"Sorry," he huffs, turning away instantly to pout at the ground.
"Umm, I don't—"
"For earlier," he interrupts. “It’s been brought to my attention that I was apparently being rude.”
"Oh no!" You wave off nervously, smiling sheepishly. “It’s really okay! No need to apologize.”
"SEE??" He snapped, whipping around to face the other man who was sitting at the booth shaking his head in his palms. The sudden shout pulls a small yelp from your lips in surprise. "I told you, ya damn nerd! Making a big deal outta nothin'!" You look away bashfully, your face hot when the few remaining patrons direct their attention towards the two of you. You turn to walk back behind the counter but you're stopped by an arm that reaches out between you and your exit route to lean against the freshly polished glass. You pout at the new smudges and meet his vermillion eyes with your own sad ones. His eyes study you for a moment, looking for something on your features. You felt like a bug under a microscope with the scrutiny you felt from his glare. "So, before...did you really not know who we are?"
"Umm," your eyes dart to the side, noticing the other man dragging his feet towards his comrade. You suddenly feel cornered, wishing that you could be back behind the safety of the counter. "I—sorry..."
"Hey," the emerald-haired man smooths, "no need to apologize. We should just introduce ourselves. I'm Midoriya Izuku, and this is Kacch—I mean, Bakugo Katsuki." Oh. Those were names that you knew. You stand stunned for a moment, tired eyes wide and a blush spreading at the embarrassment of not knowing before.
Bowing your head, you shyly say, "It is nice to meet you both."
While you're still bowed to the two men, a look passes between the both of them over your head. By the time you lift your face again, their eyes are back on you and your eyes are shifting to look at anything besides the bulking pro heroes in front of you as you give your name.
"It's nice to meet you, as well," Midoriya says while Bakugo folds his arms over his chest and nods in acknowledgment. "The tea was amazing, by the way."
"Thank you," you softly reply. "It's a fan favorite here. My mom taught me how to brew it perfectly."
"Well, it was delicious," he answers. "Your mother taught you well." Your lips turn up bashfully as you nod.
"I'll be sure to let her know, thank you."
"The coffee was good," Bakugo muttered. His voice was so quiet, you nearly missed it, already used to his typically booming voice since you met him the mere hour beforehand. You weren't expecting him to express his delight in the drink, and you could tell that he was one to withhold such approval. Your smile couldn't help but widen at his comment, instant pride filling your gut with flutters at the praise. While his words fill your stomach with butterflies, the brightened expression on your face sends the pro heroes' stomachs flipping.
"I-I'm glad you enjoyed it," you beam. A moment passes between the three of you, eyes flickering between one another before the front door rings with a new customer. "I-I should get back to work...but, let me know if you want anything." You smile sweetly and scoot away from the men, padding around the counter to welcome your new patron with a sugary, “Welcome to the Bibliophile Brew.” Katsuki smirks as he watches you kindly speak with your customer, turning to Izuku and leaning in to lowly say to him.
"I know what I want."
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Some days you cursed yourself for being such a good daughter. Days like today when you sat crammed into a corner booth to keep an eye on the cafe while also juggling between the reading assignment you had for your college literature class and organizing the barista schedule for the next two weeks—a task infinitely more difficult now that you had two baristas out because of sickness. Thank God for Michi who agreed to take a couple extra shifts in their place, taking a bit of the load off of you!
While your new load of responsibility was exhausting, you figured that it was the least you could do for your poor parents who had to travel across the country to take care of your grandparents in their old age. You wanted to help your family as much as possible while your parents were away, meaning that for the rest of the summer, you’d be bouncing between your summer classes and managing the cafe. Luckily, you decided not to take on too many classes during the off-season, and what you did enroll in were all online courses, so you could focus on the classes in your own time—though that time was becoming less and less with the sudden boom in business the last few days. Word got around that your parents’ cafe was a hang-out spot for pro heroes—not true considering the number one and two heroes only came in that one time—but the rumor still helped business so you weren’t going to complain about the sudden influx of cash.
You also weren’t going to turn down more tips for yourself and your baristas. Apparently, someone had also posted a video of Deku’s rant on the difficulties of the hard-working service-industry employee and the importance of tipping—not what you thought was the intent of his rambling but you still appreciated the sentiment of it—and people just took off with it. You noticed an inflow of better tippers and friendlier customer-barista exchanges since then. The impact that a simple video with the Symbol of Peace had over a nation was astounding to you. It left you in complete awe of his incredible influence.
“Hey, boss,” Sukki’s voice called out, bringing you out of your Deku daydreaming, and reminding you of the focus you should be having on your mountain of work. Turning your eyes up, you take a look at Sukki’s concerned features through your reading glasses. Your mind immediately drowns in word, and you begin looking past her around at the café.
“What’s wrong? Something happened?” She’s place is a hot cup on the table in front of you.
“Nothing happened,” she says. “Everything is running smoothly. Almost perfectly.”
Your brows pull together and confusion. “Then—”
“So smoothly in fact,” she interrupted, kneeling at the side of the booth, and looking up at you gently, as if speaking with a toddler, “that we don’t even need you here.” She gently prize the schedule paper from your white-knuckle grip.
“But—”
“How much sleep did you get last night?” Ooh, you did not want to answer that. However, you didn’t have to verbally answer since the way your face contorts into a cringe is answer enough. “Go home, get some sleep. Me and the girls can figure out the schedule for you.“
“But you shouldn’t have—”
“And you shouldn’t be working yourself like this. It’s unhealthy.” You want to argue, but you can’t, so instead you pout.
“Why did you bring me a coffee then?”
“It’s hot chocolate. I don’t like giving you any sugar, but I also know that you need a treat, it’s better than another cup of coffee.”
“So you're trying to make sure I crash on sugar, then?”
“At least you may actually get some sleep, then.“ You snort and roll your eyes, trying to hide your touched smile behind the lid of your cup. Suki has known you since your high school days, having started as a classmate, then best friend, which led to being coworkers, too. Because of this Sukki would take care of you, whenever you would be teetering on the edge of burnout, which was often as of late. He struggled to take breaks for yourself, fearing that your responsibilities will pile up, and you’d eventually let everyone else down.
“Can I at least finish the reading?”
She takes a moment to consider this before sighing. “Fine. But if you’re staying here, you’re not working.” She swipes the handwritten schedule from the table and holds it out of your reach. “And I am taking this. Now, finish your homework, so you can go home and sleep.” You offer her a two-finger salute as she walks away, mumbling about how she doesn’t understand why you’re still handwriting your stuff.
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After a while of reading, the words begin to blur together, and your eyes grow heavy. The hot chocolate—half drunk and lukewarm now—seems to be the only thing your tired eyes could focus on. For the past moments—God only knows the true measurement of time, but it only felt like a mere few minutes—your gaze had been trained on your abandoned beverage instead of the words dancing over the numerous pages. You didn't look away from the abnormally interesting cup until a tall figure plopped into the booth seat across yours, a large shadow being cast over the object of your attention. The sudden presence drew your eyes to your unexpected visitor and to say you were shocked by the identity of your mystery guest would be an understatement. You gape at the green-haired pro hero sitting across from you, smiling brightly, his eyes sparkling underneath the curls falling in front of them.
"Umm..." You look around, wondering if you were seeing things correctly or if you had actually fallen asleep in the booth and were now dreaming. But looking around the cafe, everything seems normal, except for the amount of eyes on you and your surprise guest. Your eyes fall back into Deku as you swallow thickly. "Hi?"
"Hey!" he beams, the freckles and dimples on his face becoming more apparent with the brightness if his features as he spoke. "It's nice to meet you again," he says sweetly, and you can't help the way your stomach flutters or how your heart picks up pace, a flush filling your cheeks.
"Yeah, it's nice to see you, too," you reply. "You here for another matcha?"
He chuckles a bit, flattered that you remember his order from his first visit. "Well," he states, leaning forward with his elbows on the tabletop, his voice lowering, "I couldn't think of anywhere else I could get tea as delicious as yours."
You didn't know what his was about that compliment that sent your heartbeat racing. Maybe it was his pretty virescent eyes trained on you or maybe it was the hush in his voice that made it feel as if his words were meant for you and you alone, but whatever it was, the comment had your face flaming.
"Thank you, Mr. Deku," you bashfully say. "I'm not sure I'm deserving of such high praise."
"You are," he states matter-of-factly. "And you can call me Midoriya. I doubt that I'm much older than you are, and I'm definitely not old enough for 'Mr.'" He teasingly cringes at his own use of the title, causing a giggle to slip from your lips. You don't notice the pride that puffs out his chest as he watches you laugh, knowing that he caused such a sweet sound to bubble from your throat.
"Sorry," you say, your tone much lighter and relaxed after your small giggle fit. "I won't make that mistake again, Midoriya."
"Please don't," he chuckles. He nods towards the book sitting on the tabletop with your hand resting atop the open pages. "So, business or pleasure?"
"School, actually," you answer, tucking your bookmark between the pages and closing the book to offer the pro hero your full attention.
"Oh, then both." You giggle again and he can't help but join you until Sukki stops at the table with Deku's tea and a second hot chocolate for you.
"Your tea, Mr. Deku," Sukki says tightly, obviously starstruck and nervous, it reminds you of Deku's early interviews where he seemed so frightened of the camera. It only worsens when he flashes her his number one hero smile, followed by a sweet and peppy, "Thank you!"
Sukki squeaks a bit, face flushing, and she bows slightly as she utters, "Umm, my pleasure, sir!" When she straightens her spine she gives you a pointed what-the-hell-is-happening-here look which you answer with a subtle I-have-no-idea shrug. You decide that you should get some answers.
"So, is there anything I could do for you, Midoriya?" He stops to look you in the eyes, the cup stalling in mid-air before completing its journey to his lip. He chuckles and sets the beverage onto the countertop.
"You assume I have an ulterior motive for being here?" You shrug, not wanting to offend him with an accusation, but that's exactly what you were implying.
"I'm just curious why you want to sit with a stranger."
"But we're not really strangers, you call me Midoriya now." You raise an eyebrow at the evasiveness, and he relents with the simple motion. "Okay, I'll admit that I didn't just come here for the tea." You fake gasp, dramatically smacking a hand to your chest in faux disbelief. He rolls his eyes. “I came to apologize.”
Your nose wrinkles at that and you can’t help the disbelieving chuckle that escapes your lips. “For what?”
“For that video,” he answers simply, obviously. “I’m sure you’ve seen it by now.”
“I mean, yeah, but I was there so I didn’t really have to watch it,” you giggled a bit. He didn’t seem to find it as funny as you did though.
“I’m sure it’s made things more difficult around here, too, though. Right?” You watch the crinkle of his brow, realizing how much he was internalizing any slight inconvenience he may have caused you.
“Business has actually been great since the last time you were here,” you beamed, trying your best to ease his misplaced guilt. “And the tips are better, too.” He seemed to perk up at that.
“Really?” God, this grown man was practically a puppy dog wagging his tail in front of you. It takes everything in you not to giggle at the thought.
“Really.” You shrug. “There's nothing to apologize for so don't worry about it.” He looks a little shocked at your response, the tips of his ears and the apples of his cheeks brightening with pink. He smiles at you gently.
“Well, good. I’m glad," he says sweetly, flashing his signature adorable smile. "I--well, I also wanted to make sure that you weren't having any issues. I know how some, umm, super fans can get outta hand with people they see me in a video with. Speculation can get out of hand."
“Oh," you respond, slightly taken aback. "No, I haven't had issues. Do people actually harass random video extras though?" Izuku snorts a bit at your choice of words, causing your brow to twitch and your head to tilt in confusion. Clearing his throat, he presses his lips into a disappointed line, nodding in confirmation.
"Unfortunately, yes," comes his mirthless reply. "Don't get me wrong, I love all my fans...but some of them make it a bit difficult to love them all equally."
You can't help the giggle that bubbles past your lips, the tingling sound building into your lovely laugh. "Y'know, it's okay for you not to like everyone, Midoriya."
"Oh, the nice guy in me disagrees," he sasses back, smirking to himself as he makes you laugh again.
"It's also okay to not apologize for every minor inconvenience you may or may not cause someone," you accuse pointedly. He at least has the decency to look slightly embarrassed for the point you're trying to make. "And I hope you didn't make the trip here just to check on me. I'm sure that there are more important things that deserve your attention, and I'm sure this is time you could have used for yourself."
"Well, as long as we're pointing fingers, you're allowed to take time for yourself as well," he retorts smugly. You suck a harsh breath before you bite your bottom lip sheepishly.
"How'd you know?"
"It looks like you've been overworking yourself," he answers matter-of-factly. "I'm assuming this," he starts, thumbing the book's pages that rest in front of you, "and this," he gestures to the cafe, looking around at the bustling space full of patrons who are beginning to take notice of his pro hero presence, "are responsible for your lack of self-care."
"I think you're forgetting that anything can be a form of self-care," you point out. "This can be self-care," you say holding up your cup of hot chocolate.
"A lukewarm beverage is self-care?" He raises a pensive brow.
"You're one to talk, Mr. Pro Hero Deku," you snort. "You're spending your free time here. I wouldn't exactly call that self-care."
"Well...what if I told you that this is what I wanted to do for my free time?" he shyly answers, suddenly sheepish. "If I'm honest, I kinda wanted a do-over at meeting you."
"You...did?" He nods, and you stare for a moment with wide, ruminant eyes. "How come?"
"Well, that first meeting was such a disaster," he chuckled. "It's not exactly the kind of impression I wanted to leave on such a beautiful person." He bashfully flirts, his cheeks dusting pink over the constellation of freckles over his face, and it's a whole new type of flustering when a big, beefy hero like Deku looks at you so adorably through his thick lashes with a ducting of blush gracing his freckled cheeks.
You feel your own cheeks flush at the sight, squirming in your seat and bringing your hands up to cover your burning cheeks, mumbling, "Oh...Oh! God, I'm too sleep-deprived for this kinda conversation." Your blush only worsens when he chuckles and coos at you.
"Well, m-maybe after you get a good night's sleep, we could have that conversation then," he offers. "Perhaps with...dinner while we talk about it..."
"Are you...asking me out?"
"I was trying to," he chuckles softly at himself.
"I think that I'd really like that," you answer, your face heating as a shy smile graces your lips. The greenette's face lights up in an elated grin, jade eyes sparkling with glee.
"Yeah?" You nod sheepishly. "Can I walk you home?" He asks sweetly. You nod, shyly avoiding his eyes as he snickers. You silently pack your belongings, your eye flitting toward an elated and shocked Sukki who watches from behind the counter, the coffee pot in her hand drifting away from the cup in her other hand to spill on the floor. For some reason, the sight puts you a bit at ease as you allow Midoriya to lead you out the door, his hand affectionately resting on the small of your back as if the rest of the cafe wasn't watching the scene.
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Taking a deep breath, you pinch the bridge of your nose and steel yourself before fixing the offending table with a hard look. Your day was going so well, especially after your walk with Deku Midoriya the night before. You walked into work moments ago with a good night's sleep, wonderful memories of your day before, and brighter outlook on life. However, that sunny demeanor was promptly killed the minute you walked into the shop to see a sobbing teenage girl in your office being comforted by Sukki who then explained the situation in hushed tones. The righteous fury in you burned as you looked at the handsy customer leisurely sipping his beverage as if he hadn't assaulted a young lady. Turning to the teary-eyed employee you offer a sympathetic look and gently smile at her. "Amai, how about you stay in my office and take a break? I'll handle this." Making your way over, you grab an empty cup and lid from the counter.
"Hello, sir," you say in an overly sugary tone. "Hope you're enjoying the coffee. Here's a to-go cup so you can enjoy it on the go. Have a lovely day. Buh-bye now."
"What? The fuck you talking about, girlie?"
"Well, see, you broke our number one rule by harassing one of our beloved staff members," you continue in a tooth-achingly sweet customer service voice, despite the pure condescension dripping from your honeyed timbre. "Therefore, you are no longer welcome here. So, leave while I'm still being nice. Oh, and don't come back again, 'kay?"
"Look, tits—"
"That is not my name," you snap, niceties long forgotten. You also noticed the small audience that had begun to gather, the surrounding dining area falling into a slight hush with only scandalized whispers being exchanged between the audience. "Though you don't even deserve to know my name. However, if you must address me at all you may do so by calling me 'ma'am' or 'miss', but you will not address me or any woman in that manner."
He tsks and rolls his eyes at you. "You don't even know the whole story. That bitch was asking for it."
"Really?" you ask, voice coated in sarcasm. "The teenage girl was vying for the attention of some fat, old fuck like yourself? Hmm, very interesting. In that case, maybe I was too quick in my earlier words. I was being far too kind in letting you leave gracefully and quietly. So, instead, I will be calling the police. Please, sit, finish your coffee, and wait for the cops to haul your ass off."
"Why you—" His hand raises, poised to strike you while you stand emotionless with a fixed, unmoving stance. Before he gets the chance to slap you, a grenade-gloved hand catches his wrist.
"Touch her and you lose it." It's safe to say that both you and the offending customer are shocked by the tall blonde practically made of muscle standing between you and the now stuttering mess of a man. "What? Why suddenly so quiet after spewing such shit?" You're surprised that Dynamight's sharp glare isn't literally cutting the man down in front of you. "Apologize." The man's eyes shift towards you, the venom in the gaze when looking at you, however, is not quelled by the threats of the pro-hero.
"But...she's—" The grip around the man's hand becomes increasingly tight, interrupting whatever insult on the tip of his tongue with a pained grunt.
"Apologize."
He spews his false apologies with tearful pleads accompanying them before Dynamight drops his grip and sends the sniveling man scrambling on the floor and running out the door. The small crowd claps and cheers for the hero before dispersing back into their own activities. He shrugs off the praise, grumbling about how useless the crowd of people is, watching while an old perv nearly puts his hands on you.
"Thank you," you say as he passes you, seemingly lost in his own complaints over the situation. Stopping with his back to you, Dynamight takes a few deep breaths to calm himself before turning back to you.
"You got a mouth on you," he simply says, his tone almost bored.
"Oh," you say, blushing. "Umm...thank you?"
"It's a compliment," he assures matter-of-factly.
"Oh!" you drawl, recognizing the actual weight of the stone-cold Dynamight giving someone a compliment. "Then, thank you!" You flash him a glowing smile, a sign of your gratitude, but you fail to recognize the damage you've inflicted upon Bakugo's poor heart, causing the normally stoic hero to lose his breath, flush invading the apples of his cheeks.
"Yeah, yeah, I'm just doing my job," he grumbled, awkwardly crossing his arms and looking away. You tilt your head at the sudden aggression in his tone. He takes a moment to calm down with some calming breaths before he peeks at you from the corner of his eyes. He huffs before mumbling out, "Y'know...if you wanted to thank me you could join me for dinner." For some reason, you found his roundabout offer oddly adorable for such an explosive man.
"Are-are you asking me out?" you ask, smiling sweetly as you watch the tips of his ears brighten with a red hue.
"Yes or no?"
"Hmmm," you hum pensively, your finger tapping on your chin in thought. You mentally cackle at the way he groans impatiently, embarrassingly. Giggling, you finally decide to put him out of his misery, "Yes, I'd love to." His face proudly morphs into one of triumph.
"Good," he nods. "Be ready by 7. I'll pick you up." With that, he marches out the cafe doors, and you don't miss the "Fuck yeah!" he shouts once he's outside, startling a few unsuspecting bypassers.
You giggle as you watch his figure swagger down the street. Sukki comes up behind you, clearing her throat. "Did Dynamight just ask you out?"
"Mhmm," you hum out, biting your bottom lip giddily.
"After you agreed to go out with Deku?"
"Mhmm—oh," you blanch. "Oh, shit!"
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hardly-an-escape · 2 months
Text
Fluffbruary Day 26
gonna try to do a little daily drabble just to get the creative juices going while I work on longer WIPs. no guarantees that it'll be every day.
Dream/Hob • rated M • fluff | woolly | care package
Hob smiles when he unzips his suitcase and sees the surprise Dream has left for him. He must have snuck it in while Hob was in the loo, just before the Uber had arrived, because it definitely hadn’t been there when he’d packed last night.
It’s nothing fancy. Just a plain little bag, labeled with his name in Dream’s distinctive spiky handwriting, the black marker feathering a bit where it’s soaked into the cheap brown paper. Dream’s embellished it with doodles of birds and trees, so it looks like Hob’s name is growing out of a tiny black-and-white forest.
Inside is a packet of Hob’s favorite biscuits, and one of sour gummy worms. A miniature instant photo of the two of them together, which Hob recognizes from Matthew’s last birthday party. A pressed flower from their garden, carefully taped to a square of card stock with washi tape. And best of all, a new fountain pen – one of the nice ones Hob’s been eyeing for a while but hasn’t found an excuse to buy.
He flips over the card with the dried flower. On the other side is a short handwritten message: I love you. Work hard. Think of me.
Hob’s insides turn to goo. He hadn’t thought it was possible to fall even more in love with his husband than he already is, and yet he’s standing here in a boring hotel room feeling as though he’s just drunk a bottle of champagne.
I love you. Work hard. Think of me.
As if he could do anything but.
He fishes his phone from his jacket pocket. Dream answers on the first ring.
“Did you find your present?” he asks without preamble.
“Yes. I love you so much. My darling, you would not even believe how much I love you. You are, bar none, the best thing that’s ever happened to me –”
“Did you find all of your present?” Dream presses.
“Yes?” Hob says uncertainly. “It was all in the little bag, right? The doodles are so cute, by the way.”
“Look farther. Under your clothes.”
Hob obediently digs deeper in his suitcase. At first he doesn’t see it, but then his fingers encounter something unfamiliar. It’s small, but firm, and heavy for its size. For a second he’s puzzled – then he realizes what it is and bursts into laughter.
“You maniac, did you pack me a butt plug?”
“I thought you might get lonely.” He can hear the smile in Dream’s voice.
“I’m only going to be gone for three nights!”
“Yes. Three long, lonely nights. In the wasteland of Bangor. Without your husband to comfort and please you after your long days of toil.”
“It’s just an academic conference, my love, not manual labor.”
“I’ve seen how you medievalists get. All those heavy books. You might strain yourself if you don’t find a way to relax.”
Hob laughs again, and rejoices in Dream’s laugh in return. After all these years, it still sends a shiver down his back.
“I really do love you,” he says.
“And I you,” Dream answers softly. “But I must go. Matthew is almost here. He promised to come distract me from my woeful solitude. I believe he is bringing Die Hard.”
“Have fun. Tell him I said hi. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”
“Till then, my love.”
“Bye, darling.”
prompt list!
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suugarbabe · 7 months
Note
You are SO amazing love, never let anyone tell you any different. I WILL fight them 😤
Tysm for considering wolfstar!daughter, i think youd enjoy the current fics that are currently out for it. Most of them are x fred or george and it just reminds me of you everytime.
Sorry, this is probs going to be long 😬
For the prompt though, i imagine they came about reader when remus found her on a full moon as a toddler werewolf, abandond in the forest (last yr hogwarts or graduated doesnt matter, whatever you decide) and when Sirius finally finds Remus the next morning he's shocked, confused, and then melts. Big, tall, broard Remus has this small bundle of cuteness wrapped in his sweater trying to cuddle into him.
Whether youd like to continue on from there or do reader growing up or a time skip is up to you. Same as if James dies or not, whatever your brilliant mind decides 🧡 but if it helps this is how i see the family dynamic:
I think Sirius would be the overprotective kind of dad, never failing with that wonderful sense of dramatics!
While Remus is the calm voice of reason that talks himself down when he feels like he might be going a little overboard.
Of course we're Uncle Reggies little star, he will be mean to another child if they hurt you. He and James are constantly arguing over who's the better uncle.
James is the uncle that gives you alcohol illegally and doesnt adhere to a curfew.
So skip to hogwarts in some of the last years (im a ravenclaw so i always imagine reader as a ravenclaw but anyhouse would be fun to explore) and reader makes it official with Theo or Enzo. Harry's a tattle tale and tells his dad who then brags to Reggie, who the apparats him self the Sirius' to demand answers because "who was this vile thing that dared touch his star?? Boyfriend?!?! Fucking over his dead body!!" Fully expecting Sirius to agree with him. But he doesnt, he just sighs because at least they made it til 6th/7th yr before boys started, he'll give the poor boy a chance first. And then Remus bursts in and has a full meltdown. Thats his little wolf; his baby. She can have a boyfriend. A BOYFRIEND!?! He might puke. No this isnt allowed. Boys are gross. And nasty. And theyre going to hurt her. But not before he hurts them!! He's going to put the fear of godric into this boy! RIGHT NOW!! Wheres his wand? He needs to go to Hogwarts.
Its so unexpected that both Black brothers are frozen. Until Remus starts searching for his wand and Sirius has to calm him down while Regulus goads him on. And through all of it, reader and Enzo/Theo were standing at the door to 'meet the parents'.
And then however you want it to go from there love! So sorry that was soo long and rambely. Of couese no pressure to write it and take whatever creative liberties youd like!!
Thank you love x
The group had made an agreement that the girls would all get a flat together, as would the boys. So naturally Sirius, James and Remus planned and found one for themselves that was 'absolutely perfect' as Sirius put it since it back right up to a large patch of woods; 'Perfect for you, Moony'.
In the moment Remus had rolled his eyes, but truly he was thankful. By the last full moon of school, Remus had managed to transform back to himself without completely passing out. After the fourth full moon in the flat, Remus was able to still decently function after his transformations.
What neither Sirius nor James expected happened and they didn't know how to react initially. Sirius and James had lost sight of Remus toward the end of the night, now both transformed back to themselves looking for him.
When Sirius found him, he didn't expect the scene he walked upon. Remus shoulders were hunched over, and at first Sirius thought he was crying. But the closer he got, he realized it was not Remus making those noises, but...a child?
"Moony...what the bloody hell is that," Sirius voice was cautious, he was still convinced he might be hallucinating.
Remus turned around slowly, "She's like me, Pads. She...she was a tiny little wolf, I swear it." Sirius was skeptical, but the way Remus was looking down at you, every doubt was melting away. The way your tiny hands gripped on to Remus's sweater.
When Sirius got close enough, you reached out for him, and he was done for. When James caught up with the pair he had the same initial reaction. But like Sirius, one look at you and he was also convinced.
It had taken the girls no time to swoon after you, and the boys were forever grateful. While Remus declared himself your father (Sirius demanding his was Dad number 2). James became your fun uncle (funcle as he called himself, Lily rolling her eyes each time).
To say it had taken a village was not just a cliché, but reality. Sirius was every over protective father, having a flair for the dramatics any time anything happened, good or bad. Remus was more calm, essentially the voice of reason when Sirius was talking circles. You eventually became the perfect mix of the two, which they both loved.
When you got your Hogwarts letter Sirius threw a party, Remus thinking it was a little over the top but Sirius insisted, "Our little star got her letter, we're celebrating Moony." Regulus had brought you off to the side, insisting you owl him if anyone is mean to you, he'll come and fix it, "Even if it's another little twat kid, you let me know, okay Star?"
After fourth year, James let you try his beer for the first time. Sirius lost his mind, Remus reminded Sirius how much worse he was at your age and that if James was letting her try it that it was a better situation than he used to get in to.
What you didn't expect was the commotion that ensued during Christmas holiday seventh year. It was tradition for you and your dads to throw a party on Christmas Eve. You were putting the final touches on the Christmas biscuits you usually made when a loud pop sounded in the living room.
"SIRIUS GET YOUR ARSE IN HERE NOW!" The voice of Regulus rang throughout your house and you instantly froze. Sirius sauntered in, not bothered by his younger brothers tone, "Seriously, with the shouting Reg, what is it now?"
Regulus looked over Sirius shoulder at you in the kitchen before turning back to his brother, "How could you let her, huh? How could you let her do this, with a Slytherin no less? My little star? Who is this vile snake you've let touch our little girl, a boyfriend, Sirius, really?"
You held your breath, fully expecting your dad to lose it, go full on dramatics, but instead he just pinched the bridge of his nose, "Honestly, Reg, calm down. I'm surprised it took us till seventh year for her to finally decide to get a boyfriend, don't get me wrong, I'm thankful," he turned pointing at you, "but I trust her, Reg. And you should too. She's not like us. Really though, darling, a Slytherin?"
Sirius turned to face you and all you could muster was a shrug of your shoulders before your father burst in. "WHAT did I just hear? My wolf has a WHAT? With a WHO? Darling are you mad, who is this boy? A boyfriend? Oh my Godric, I think I'm going to be sick. Who is he, star? Who, tell me now. I'm getting my wand. Sirius, my wand now."
Remus held out his hand expectantly, but nothing happened. Both Regulus and Sirius stood frozen, mouths agape at Remus's reaction before a sly smirk crawled its way onto Sirius's features, "Oh my my, Moony, this is a sight."
At that moment the Potter's all appeared, the air obviously thick with tension. James looked between his friends, "Oi, what did we miss?"
When you saw Harry you were instantly enraged, your inherant traits from Sirius coming in to play, "You little fucking rat, you weasel, you knew I was going to tell them over break, how could you tell Reggie before I could tell my parents, I'll hex you Potter, I swear it!"
You started after Harry, only for James's strong arms to lift you up by the waist and hold you tight, "Woah there, mini Sirius, calm down. I think this might be my fault. Harry told me out of concern and I might have boasted about your feats to Reggie."
You went slump in your Uncle's grasp, "Uncle Jamie...how could you." You were pouting as he sat you down, giving you a tight hug, "I'm sorry, star, I was just so dang proud of you."
You looked over at your parents, Sirius now rubbing Remus's back who was pinching the bridge of his nose. There was a knock on the door, causing everyone's attention to switch towards the distrubance.
Walking towards the door, you looked back with your hand on the handle, "Be nice." The marauders and Harry held up their hands in defense, Regulus crossed his, "No promises."
When you opened the door, Enzo stood there, cheeks slightly pink. "Erm, are you sure it's okay for me to be here?" You laughed slightly out of embarrassment, "How much did you hear exactly?"
"Enough to know I'm more afraid of Professor Lupin than Sirius," he whispered as he followed you through the door.
"Dad, Father, this is Enzo. My boyfriend," You gestured toward Enzo who gave a shy wave.
Remus placed his hand on his own chest, "Oh thank god it's Berkshire. I was really worried, star dear. Really worried. Thought maybe it was going to be the Nott boy."
This caused both you and Enzo to laugh, Enzo speaking up finally, "Merlin, no, sir. Nott's afraid of Y/n actually. So you've done a good job."
"Don't start kissing ass just yet, Berkshire," Regulus stuck a finger out at the boy.
"Uncle Reggie. Behave," you scolded him like a child, he looked down at the floor like one, too.
Sirius stepped forward, extending his hand, "So sorry, my boy. I'm Sirius, Y/n's father. You've met Moony, erm, Professor Lupin, her dad. He's sorry for anything you may have heard through the door."
Enzo grabbed his hand, shaking it firmly, "It's alright, sir. It's a pleasure to meet the men who've raised such a strong woman." Enzo smiled at you affectionately, causing you to blush in front of your family.
"Look at that, Moons. Our little star is growing up," Sirius wiped a faked fear, while Remus was holding back real ones.
You sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose like your dad had done earlier, "Alright, who's hungry, hmm? Shall we eat?" You led Enzo towards the large table. Everyone followed suit, both Regulus and Remus grumbling slightly.
As you sat down, Enzo gave your thigh a squeeze. He leaned over and whispered in your ear, "Star, huh? That's cute." You side-eyed him, giving him a slight glare, "You tell anyone, you're a dead man."
Enzo grinned to himself, "It'd be an honor to die by your hands, love."
Across the table, Sirius gave Remus's thigh a squeeze, "She's growing up, Moons. Our little star." Remus nodded, pouring himself some brandy, "That she is, Pads. Our little wolf is a woman now." Sirius scoffed, "She still needs us though right?" Remus nodded, smiling, "We'll always be there for her."
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