#i vividly remember this particular moment when he seemed to Realize

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Duty Over Heart

Pairing: Captain John Price x medic!reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, angst, fluff, mutual pining, inappropriate workplace flirting? no power imbalance, f!reader, reader is implied to be American but can be read as anyone

Reader is called "Doc"

Words: 6.1k

Synopsis: You and Lieutenant John Price worked together on a mission in Bosnia, only to find out that your lives were forever changed afterwards...

You are currently reading the prologue to Duty Over Heart

(I guess technically lieutenant Price in this but he’s captain in the rest so)

Price can vividly remember what the day felt like after your first mission together.

It had been a nice day, warm and sunny to the point he wondered if maybe he would overheat if there wasn’t a breeze. To him, he could vaguely smell sea salt and the promise of the fish dinner his mother used to make on Sundays after having dragged him to church earlier that morning. The smell of petrol and the feeling of the warmth from a very particular quilt he had grown up sleeping with. 

The feeling, at the time, had been quite odd to him since he had met you far from the ocean and far from Liverpool, the place he had called home up until the age of sixteen before he decided to enlist in the military, but after as many years as the two of you have known each other, he understood why he had remembered those things.

Price had gotten home from a long deployment overseas. Anyone normal would’ve taken the time to settle back within their home, let themselves rest for a moment before they decided to be active again, especially when they had been risking their lives nearly everyday for months on end, but Price was anything but normal.

No one normal killed people for their job, no one normal had to make certain calls that risked the lives of people he would call friends for the rest of the world.

Civilians didn’t see the horrible shit he saw everyday, they shouldn’t in his mind, which was why he had the job he did.

Which was also why he found himself at a football game the day after he had gotten back home. 

He didn’t particularly care for the teams that were playing but that didn’t stop him from getting into the game, not when it kept his mind from wandering into places he wished he could snuff out like the cigars he smoked far too often.

A game was a game, he’d enjoy it if it meant he didn’t have to be reminded of his last deployment.

He had been stuck in his own world, engrossed in the football game when someone sat down next to him. He wouldn’t have thought anything of it, it was a busy game and people often got up from their seats and switched them to get better views of the field.

“This seems like a very intense soccer game.”

Price’s face fell into a scowl as he suppressed an eyeroll and he glanced at the woman who sat beside him. 

He could immediately tell she was American, not only because of her accent or because she called football “soccer”, but because of the way she looked. 

She stood out almost like a sore thumb, wearing clothes that American tourists often wore when visiting London as if she were on vacation but he knew better. She sat with confidence but there was an air of professionalism around her that couldn’t be mistaken for anything else and he knew the moment that she looked at him with a smile his leave was going to be cut short.

“It’s football.” He countered and scoffed. “Americans…”

“I didn’t realize you took soccer so seriously, Lieutenant.” She said and this time he couldn’t stop his eyes from rolling.

“I find football to be relaxing.”

She raised an amused eyebrow, most likely because she must’ve been around to hear him screaming very angrily about the last couple of calls the refs had made. However, she didn’t say anything to disagree as the crowd around them cheered from a goal that he had missed entirely.

His attention had been taken from the game only to go back to work, as it always did. He could argue with anyone that his entire life was his work and though that was mostly by choice, at the moment he wished he could have just these few hours to himself.

“Kate Laswell, CIA.” She introduced herself with a smile, one that was polite but had a hidden meaning behind it.

“What do you want?” He nearly demanded, unable to keep the poor attitude that had crept into him since the moment she had sat next to him.

Price didn’t want to be rude, normally he wasn’t but his nerves were still high from yesterday and he wasn’t too happy about being interrupted on his time off, let alone during a football game. 

“I need you for an op,” Laswell began and he sucked in his lips. “You’re the best man I know for the job and I can’t afford mistakes on this one.”

“Best man, eh?” He laughed.

It was true that he had gained quite the reputation for himself within the SAS over the many years of his service. He was one of the highly respected soldiers and often the one that many of his higher ups turned to when they wanted the job done. However, it never would’ve occurred to him that he was also considered the best in the minds of the Americans, especially those in the CIA.

For anyone else, they would’ve gotten cocky about it, but for Price, it just meant he worked more often than not.

“I’ll spare you the details right now but I need to know if you’re in.” She said in a serious tone and one look into her eyes, Price knew she meant business.

She was tenacious, he liked that. She didn’t beat around the bush and waste his time with formalities or “politics”. Straight to the point and honest, he couldn’t fault her for that and despite the fact that she wanted to use her silly American words, he was open to working with her.

It wasn’t like he had much of a choice if she specifically came looking for him. If the job was that important, then there was nothing that would stop him from taking it, not if it meant there would be lives on the line.

“When?”

“My plane leaves in a few hours, we’ll debrief on the flight and then you’ll be shipped out the day after tomorrow.”

Price nodded and turned his attention back to the game as a long sigh left his chest. He should’ve felt more upset about the fact that he was being pulled away from his home after only being back for less than a day, but he had hardly given himself time to feel at home so it didn’t matter. 

From one job into another, that was his life, and yet when he met you everything became so much more than that.

The plane had touched down in Bosnia on a small base that the CIA occupied for the mission. It was a small operation for how much Laswell had built it up but no less dangerous; a war criminal on the loose, the need for capture to bring in alive, a simple job but Price knew better.

Nothing was ever simple.

He couldn’t remember the last time he had a simple mission, one that didn’t require him to be constantly vigilant. He wasn’t sure those existed, he couldn’t recall a single mission where he hadn’t nearly died, though he was sure there had to be at least one.

Everything had blurred together nowadays, days into weeks, into months, every mission became the same in his mind and the only thing that kept his head on straight was the paperwork detailing what happened.

Laswell led him into a small stuffy conference room, one that didn’t even have and instead had chairs set out as if they were in a classroom. It was only the two of them there and Price waited for the CIA agent to start but she didn’t.

Instead the door opened and in stepped you.

Price couldn’t help the way his eyebrows knitted together when he saw you walking in full gear just like him, ready for a mission. He almost hated to admit to himself that the first thought that went through his mind was that you looked far too soft to be in the military, let alone work on high profile jobs such as these.

He didn’t want to make assumptions, he’d much rather do that after he’s been able to watch you work, but he couldn’t help it when your eyes looked bright as you glanced from him to Laswell and a warm smile stretched across your face.

He had to deliberately ignore the way his chest warmed when he saw it.

“Sorry I’m late, Kate.”

“We’re still waiting for the others.” Laswell dismissed you with a smile of her own. “You and the lieutenant can acquaint yourselves in the meantime.”

The others? Price didn’t have much time to wonder or ask before his attention was taken by you as you stood in front of him practically beaming at him with only what he could assume to be admiration.

He found that all thoughts were forcibly taken from his mind as he sucked in his lips, glancing down at your own, and he grabbed the straps of his vest. 

Up this close, you were quite beautiful which caused him to mentally kick himself for being strange about someone he hadn’t even spoken to yet.

“You’re Lieutenant Price?” You asked and when he nodded your smile grew. “I’ve heard a lot about you, sir, and I’m excited to work with you.”

It took everything in him to hide the disgust he felt when the word sir fell out of your mouth.

You were being polite and respectful, something that many others who he’s met do and yet he didn’t like the way it sounded in your voice. There was something about it, something that put up a barrier he wasn’t sure he liked all that much, not when you seemed so friendly.

That was a stark contrast to many people who had met before, including Laswell. Everyone always approached him only with professionalism that he had gotten accustomed to the longer he worked in his field. 

Was this your first job? This wouldn’t be the first time that someone had paired him up with a rookie and he didn’t have an issue with being the one who would teach you the ropes on this mission if that were the case-

“I’m sergeant L/n.” You introduced yourself and his eyes widened slightly. “I don’t know if Kate has informed you but I’ll be your medic for this assignment.”

Price raised his eyebrows and nodded before he glanced at Laswell. He knew that this was serious but he didn’t realize he would need a medic for it and he couldn’t help but wonder just how bad this war criminal was. 

When he glanced back at you, he saw that there was a little more determination in your eyes than before but you still had that bright look on your face, something that he felt was entirely out of place.

You shouldn’t be in a place like this.

“Good to know I’m not working alone.” He gave you a quick smile. “M’sorry I wasn’t able learn more about you before this.”

“I only know so much because of your extensive medical records.” You gave him a playfully stern look that made him chuckle.

“I’ll try to be more careful this time.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll patch you up when you aren’t.”

Price felt his chest warm up as he found he was caught completely off guard by you once again. The look of confidence in your eyes didn’t help as you showed him just how much faith you had in your skills which made him feel a lot more comfortable, despite the fact that he hadn’t felt all that out of place before.

Your voice was warm and the smile on your face made him really believe that maybe this was a joke, that maybe you were brought here by accident despite the fact that you seemed to be well acquainted with Laswell. 

No other medic had even said that to him. It was a medic's job to make sure their team didn’t die if they sustained an injury and yet you had made it seem that it was so much more than that, even when you had just met him. 

He wanted to question you about it, about why you were so friendly, before you excused yourself to speak with Laswell. He was at a loss for words even as two other soldiers came in and the quick briefing started.

You sat next to him and when your knee touched his, he felt himself tense up as he fought back against the weird prickling feeling that came from it.

He glanced at you and for a moment he watched you pay careful attention to Laswell, undisturbed and focused like a soldier as if you hadn’t acted like a completely regular civilian. He studied your face, watching the way you took in the information that he barely processed because he was too focused on you.

As if sensing that he was staring at you, you glanced at him and before he could look away your eyes met. He felt like a creep for being so strange towards you but instead of giving him a look of disgust, you only gave him a shy smile before you looked back at Laswell with that same determined look on your face as before.

His heart skipped a beat and he forced himself to pay attention.

Bloody hell…

~

Price felt the burn of a bullet pierce his shoulder and he ducked behind the wall of the building he hid by. He huffed, gripping his gun tightly as he turned his attention to the area surrounding him while the sound of gunfire went off around him.

Nothing was ever simple.

Even when he and his group had cornered the war criminal in a small shop on an empty street. He had expected that he would give up when he realized that he was pinned and there was no way out.

Unfortunately, he should’ve expected that the man wouldn’t go down without a fight and that he had his own protection with him.

No one was dead. Any civilians around had left the scene and as far as Price knew he was the only one who had been hit by a stray bullet. His main focus was on the war criminal and making sure that he could capture him without killing him.

Price heard someone duck beside him and glanced back to see you, weapon ready as you provided some cover so he could reload his own.

“Is it lethal?” You fired a shot towards the store window, killing one of the other hostiles and ducked back behind cover.

“I’m good!” He grunted and ignored the pain as he raised his weapon to shoot as well. “We need to flank ’em!”

“Just say the word, lieutenant!”

Price kept his eyes on the war criminal and looked for an opening. That’s all he needed in order to get the job done without getting anyone killed, but currently he couldn’t move without the high chance of getting his head blown off.

Suddenly, there was a lull in the gunfire and just as he was about to give the order to move on the building, something flew through the air towards the both of you.

“Grenade!” He called out and grabbed you on instinct.

He pulled you to cover and hid you underneath him as the explosion went off. His attention immediately went back to the war criminal as he heard tires squealing and saw him speed away in a car.

He cursed and helped you up.

“We’ll chase him, the others can cut him off.” You tugged his vest and sprinted towards the humvee you came in together.

Price relayed the plan into the comms and followed right behind you, jumping into the driver side as he pushed the pedal to the floor to pursue the war criminal. It didn’t take long for him to catch up and he kept his distance as bullets began to ricochet off the hood of the humvee.

He tried to pick up his gun to shoot, but the bullet wound in his shoulder sent hot fiery pain that made him clench his jaw tightly.

“How good is your aim?” He glanced at you as you rolled down the window on the passenger side.

“If you keep us steady, I can get the tires.” You sounded confident and he nodded as he watched you pull your gun up.

You leaned out of the window and looked down the sights of your gun. You took a deep breath and fired two shots, the back two tires of the getaway car exploding with a loud pop before the broken wheels began to spark against the pavement. 

The car quickly spun out of control towards the humvee and Price pulled you back inside just as the front smashed into the side of the getaway car.

The two of you were jerked around as glass pieces flew through the air and you smack your head against the dash of the humvee. The getaway car screeched and bent from the crash as both vehicles slipped across the pavement before they came to an abrupt stop. 

Steam rose from the hood of the humvee and for a moment everything was still. 

Price’s heart was in his ears and he looked to you when you groaned, his eyes searching for any injuries as you held your head.

“You broken?” He asked and when you shook your head he gave out a quick sigh of relief.

“I’m good.” You huffed and swung the door open.

You jumped out of the car with your gun and raced towards the getaway car with Price in tow.

The other from your team showed up just as the both of you rounded to the front, and before anyone in the getaway car could grab their weapons or make a run for it, all weapons were pointed at them.

“Bravo Six to Watcher One, target is secured.” Price relayed the information into his comms as he caught his breath.

“A bird is coming your way for pick up.” Her voice came through the comms and he felt the adrenaline slowly leave his body.

Before Price knew it was back on the small base, watching as a select crew of highly trained individuals take the war criminal to the US.

He stood off to the side of the landing pad as the adrenaline still pumped through his veins. It took too long in his opinion for it to wear off and he could feel himself itching to find something to help ease it as he waited for Laswell to debrief him and tell him he can go home. 

Home. It should make him feel better, it should put him at ease and yet his eyes narrowed and he clenched his jaw at the thought of having to go back to London. He knew he needed rest, once the adrenaline wore off he would feel the effects of his last deployment and the car crash, but he didn’t want to stop.

Not when there were more war criminals and people willing to harm innocents still out there.

Price huffed and gripped the strap of his vest before he went to make his way to Laswell.

“Lieutenant.” You called out behind him a little sternly and he felt his heart skip a beat. He stopped and turned around, seeing the serious look on your face which had him looking at you confused. 

You narrowed your eyes and gave him an incredulous look.

“Sergeant?” He questioned and you raised your eyebrow.

“I’d be a horrible medic if I let you walk away with a bullet in your shoulder.” You told him and his eyebrows widened.

He looked at his blood soaked shoulder, having completely forgotten about the injury until just now. He could already start to feel the aching sensation return and yet he couldn’t help but think that it wasn’t that big of a deal. “It’s alright-”

“Respectfully sir, I’ll drag you in if I have to.”

Price didn’t have the chance to cringe at the use of sir as he was too caught off guard by your threat. He felt a genuine smile pull at his lips as he looked at your face, seeing that you were serious and he couldn’t help but chuckle.

He shook his head and unsure of why he felt his chest warm again before he gestured for you to take the lead.

You nodded and soon you had him sitting on a spare bed in the same infirmary you threatened to force him to on base.

He watched you intently as you methodically gathered everything you needed, taking special note of the way you silently spoke the list of items that you needed to yourself before you instructed him to take his shirt off.

He managed to take his vest off, feeling a little relief that the heavyweight was off his shoulder but the moment he went to take off his shirt, pain erupted from the bullet wound and he grunted.

His shoulder was stiff and just barely moving had him feel as though he were about to rip off his entire arm. He’s had worse injuries, some that had forced him in a hospital bed for days, and yet this one seemed to be the most persistent.

Price tried again but he could hardly move his shoulder at all.

“Can I help?” You offered and he couldn’t look at you as he nodded without a word.

He felt a slight tinge of embarrassment as you helped him pull off his shirt with little pain to accompany it.

Once it was off, he felt a slight chill as he waited for more pain to follow as soon as you started to patch him up. He was used to the way that medics roughly handled the injuries in front of them, it was just the way things were, especially as the adrenaline was still coursing through their veins.

However, instead of being jostled around and manhandled by you, he felt your hand softly press against his wound with a piece of gauze to soak up any remaining blood. You were gentle as you cleaned it up, apologizing for the stinging from the antiseptic and for how cold he must be since he was shivering.

Shivering from your touch, but he couldn’t admit that to you.

Price couldn’t help but feel incredibly confused but also intrigued by you. At first he believed maybe you wouldn’t fare well on the battlefield but then he saw how efficient you were catching the war criminal.

You were the complete opposite now, treating his wound as if he were a child and touching him with a softness that he had left in Liverpool.

You were strange in the best way possible. You were experienced and a hell of a good shot which wasn’t something that came naturally to most, yet you didn’t boast or act prideful. You were back to that softness he had seen just hours before and he couldn't quite wrap his head around that.

You glanced at him, catching his inquisitive eyes and you quickly looked away from him as if you were startled to know that he was staring at you.

He didn’t miss the way a shy look spread across your face again which made his eyes immediately jump to your lips as he watched you work.

“Did I live up to your expectations?” You teased, seemingly having read his mind and his eyes widened.

Price’s frowned. He hadn’t realized it had been that obvious and it almost made him more embarrassed to realize that you must’ve felt the need to prove yourself to him.

He could only assume by the way that your eyes were devoid of that brightness that this wasn’t the first time someone had made you feel this way.

He couldn’t help the anger that boiled inside of him at the thought.

Anger at himself for being the same as the pricks who had most likely put you down your entire career considering you didn’t seem all that phased by it. 

How many times have you had to prove yourself? How many times did someone completely disregard you without giving you a chance?

Guilt bubbled up in his stomach and he clenched his jaw. He never wanted to be like them and yet he had done it to a good soldier who didn’t need to have the extra pressure on top of everything else.

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, knowing that his face must be a few shades redder, especially when you gave him a sad smile. “It was incredibly unprofessional of me to make you think that I-”

“Lieutenant, it’s okay.” 

Price shook his head despite the sincere look on your face and grabbed your wrist to stop you. He stared into your eyes with a serious look, one that he hoped would change your mind, and found that for a moment he couldn’t breathe.

His eyes bounced around your face now that he had a chance to look at you properly, and saw every detail that made you, you.

He wasn’t sure why he found himself studying your face. Maybe it was because this would be the last time he’d ever see you and the thought of forgetting your face made him uneasy.

Though, he was sure he’d never forget you, especially when he noticed a small gash on your forehead he had completely missed.

From the car crash…brilliant first impression, he thought.

You stared at him expectantly but didn’t pull your hand away from him as his fingers burned into your skin. It felt as if you had stepped closer to him for a moment as you swallowed hard and your eyes flickered around his face while you gave him a surprised look.

The two of you stared at each other for a lot longer than what normal people did all because he just couldn’t think.

The more he stared, the harder it became to ignore the way his chest warmed as he drew a complete blank on what he was going to say to you. It took a moment for him to come to his senses, realizing that maybe it was a little strange for him to stare, before he finally cleared his throat.

“Really,” his voice barely above a whisper, soft and sincere. “I’m sorry.”

Price let his hand fall from yours, already missing the warmth of your steady pulse in his palm and sucked his lips into his mouth as he waited for you to answer.

He watched you stare at him as if he had grown three heads, as if no one had ever apologized to you so sincerely and it only made the anger inside of him bubble more. He held it in as you glanced away from him, uncertainty flashing across your eyes before you took a deep sigh.

You glanced back up at him with an appreciative look in your eyes that brought back some of the light that had him letting out a sigh of relief.

“Thank you, sir.” Your voice was soft as you gave him a small smile.

“Price.”

A smile stretched across his face at the confused look on your face. He couldn’t help the little chuckle that escaped his mouth when you gave him a look of uncertainty, as if you were trying your hardest to figure out if he was joking or not.

“You don’t have to be that formal with me.” He added and your eyebrows knitted together.

“Is this a test or something?” The corners of your mouth twitched when he shook his head. “We only just met a few hours ago, Lieutenant.”

Price shrugged, or attempted to without injuring himself further, and watched as you gave him a genuine smile.

You were right of course, you were still practically strangers and yet he couldn’t help the feeling in his gut that he had seen enough from you to believe you were somebody he could trust. Somebody who he wanted to see again, to speak to again, and hopefully never have to truly say goodbye to.

He hoped you felt the same but no matter how long he stared into your eyes, the beautiful ones that twinkled with a sort of friendliness that stole his breath away, he couldn’t tell. 

All he could do was hope that you wouldn’t be repulsed with working with him again.

“You certainly live up to the stories, Price.” You said as you went back to patching him up with a smile.

“Stories?” He wondered and you nodded. “Hopefully not all bad, I’ve not heard about them until now.”

“They’re not. Promise.”

He was sure the two of you looked like idiots the way that you both grinned at each other. He wasn’t sure when the last time he had smiled so genuinely yet he didn’t mind the ache in his cheeks at all. His attention was on you as you continued to patch him up, completely enthralled by you and your presence alone.

“Shame I haven’t heard anything about you.” He watched you raise an amused eyebrow.

“There’s nothing to say.” You scoffed and he grumbled.

After all he had seen today not only on the field but now as you treated him so gently, he had to disagree.

You had to be one of the best combat medics he had ever had the pleasure of meeting. It was a disservice to you that no one seemed to know who you were or know about your skills, save for him and Laswell.

You finished patching him up, carefully examining your hand work with a proud twinkle in your eyes that completely enraptured him.

“Then I’ll say something.” He spoke before he could even think.

You snorted and gave him a look as if you thought he was joking.

However, even with the fact that he had let that slip out, he was serious about saying something good about you if this mission ever came up in the future, and gave you a look that showed he meant it

There was nothing that would stop him from letting your expertise be known to anyone who would listen.

“Are you always this nice to your medics?” You wondered as you began packing up your equipment.

“Yes-“

Price stopped you and grabbed the few items he needed before he started to clean the gash on your head.

He didn’t miss the way your eyes widened and the flustered look on your face as he made quick work to patch you up. You opened your mouth to say something and attempted to step away from him, but he quickly grabbed your elbow to stop you, making you forget about any of the words you might’ve said.

His fingertips felt like they were on fire as he touched your skin and he tried his hardest to push down the good feeling that he had in his stomach. He was sure that his cheeks had turned a few shades darker and he avoided looking at you in hopes that maybe you wouldn’t notice.

“-but I think I need to make it up to you for acting like a muppet.”

When he pulled away, you touched the small bandage on your head with delicate fingers and gave him a grateful smile.

There was a sort of fondness in your eyes when you looked at him, something that was a lot warmer than anything he ever could’ve imagined coming from someone he had worked with and it left him feeling lighter.

“You don’t have to do anything.” You told him with a giggle that made his heart skip a beat. “Even if you are a muppet.”

Price grinned at your imitation of him and you had a proud look in your eyes, something that was much better than the sad look you had just earlier. He hoped you were telling the truth or else he was willing to do just about anything to make it up to you.

He slipped his shirt back on, ignoring the pain in his shoulder as he did so, before you handed him a few pain meds. He sent you a thankful nod as he took them and that was when he spotted the clock on the wall in the small infirmary. 

The smile fell from his face when he realized that he had to go back home soon and that heavy feeling came back. He clenched his jaw and a soft sigh escaped his chest before he glanced at you.

He had a bad taste in his mouth. He didn’t want to say goodbye to you, not yet. 

“When do you go back?” He wondered and you gave him a tired smile.

“They’ve got me on a few more assignments before I can go home.” You stated matter of factly and yet Price couldn’t help the sympathetic feeling he got in his stomach. “I wasn’t the one who was rudely interrupted during a game.”

“It wasn’t that entertaining…”

The words were stuck in his throat as he watched you pack up the rest of your items and put them back on your vest as you mentally counted the list of items you still had left. 

He wasn’t sure why he felt so nervous speaking to you, why all of the sudden his entire confidence as a leader had disappeared when it came to you, but it made the prospect of saying goodbye a lot worse than it should’ve.

You both were soldiers, that’s how this job was. 

“You’re not at all tired?” He wondered and you scoffed. 

“I didn’t say that.” You gave him a soft pat on his good arm before you gestured for him to walk with you. “But when you’re one of the most needed people on the battlefield, you don’t get to rest that often.”

Price hummed and nodded, knowing a little bit about what that might feel like considering his reputation.

He followed you outside of the infirmary, trying his hardest to come up with something more to say to keep the conversation going, just so he could talk to you for a little while longer but he couldn’t think of anything.

The two of you made it back to the tarmac and he sighed heavily when he saw the helicopter that was meant for him.

“I find that going on walks helps.” You said softly and his eyebrows knitted when he looked at you.

You gave him an empathetic smile. One that showed a sort of softness that made his chest feel lighter and made him want to prolong his departure even more.

“When you work with injured soldiers you learn the signs.” You explained and he sucked in his lips when he realized that you were actually seeing him. “It’s in your eyes.”

He wasn’t sure how he could feel more compelled to be around you but knowing that you saw John Price and not ‘the Lieutenant Price’, made him feel incredibly vulnerable but in the safest way possible. He was almost relieved that you saw past his ranking and the stories that seemed to travel through the special forces all around the world. 

It almost made him feel more at peace.

You placed a comforting hand on his arm, causing him to tense up slightly and step closer to you. He stared deep into your eyes again, studying everything about them so he could hope to remember them when you were gone.

“Walks, eh?” He repeated softly and nodded, causing you to give him a light squeeze. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks, Doc.”

You grinned and pulled your hand away from him, fidgeting with your fingers as you shook your head with that same flustered look on your face you had earlier.

“You know, strangely no one’s called me that before.” You chuckled and he hummed as he heard the sound of the helo turning on.

“Well, then I get the honor of being the first one.” He smiled when he saw the twinkle in your eyes. “I’ll make sure it sticks.”

“How generous of you.”

Price chuckled and tried his hardest to ignore the pit in his stomach as he realized there was nothing he could do to stop him going home. He could only hope that one day he’d be able to work with you again if Laswell ever needed him to clean up another mess. 

Maybe she would assign you with him if that happened. Maybe she would listen to him if he personally requested to have you on the team with him whenever she inevitably did call him again.

“Thanks, Doc.” He nodded to you as he began to make his way to the helo.

“Take care of yourself and don’t get shot! I won’t be there to patch you up.” You jokingly called out to him and he laughed.

Price was done for the moment he laid eyes on you.

Tags: @cathnoneofyourbusiness @lillianastuff @sofasoap

A/N: AHHHHHHHH it's finally out and i'm so excited and nervous. I hope you guys like it because it has a very special place in my heart

[dixons-sunshine]

Beside The River—Young!Daryl Dixon x Young!Fem!Reader

Summary: Daryl found you annoying. You were way too talkative and you seemed to enjoy ruining his serene moments beside the river. So why did he find himself disappointed when you seemingly didn't show up by the river one day?

Genre: Fluff.

Era: Pre apocalypse.

Part of the Shopping Spree, Hangout Dreams AU.

Warnings: None.

Word count: 1.2k.

A/n: This is specially dedicated to someone who recently discovered my blog and has been nothing but sweet about this au. I know I said requests are closed, but she gave this idea and I had to write it. I hope you like this!

➳༻❀✿❀༺➳

Daryl didn't care. With his mom dead, his father being an abusive, raging alcoholic and Merle in and out of jail, he just didn't have it in himself to care anymore. His mere twelve years of existence was plagued with nothing but suffering, and he doubted that things would ever get better. The world was designed to work against people like him.

Then you moved with your mom to the trailer park. Daryl remembered that day vividly—he was petting some stray dog when a small moving van had pulled up to the trailer home that had stood vacant for years up until that point. You and your mom had worked alongside one another to unload the few boxes from the vehicle, and soon after, you had spotted him. You had sent him a huge grin and waved at him enthusiastically, but Daryl couldn't return the kind gesture. He just didn't have it in him to do so. He just turned around and stalked off, hoping that was the end of it.

That next day, Daryl was sitting by the river behind the trailer park. In some cruel turn of events, you had stumbled upon his hiding place. Without even asking for an invitation, you had plopped yourself down beside him and introduced yourself, happily rambling on about whatever was on your mind—that day, it was about how much you loved the scenery that surrounded the river. Daryl didn't say anything, hoping that you'd get the idea and leave him alone after that first day, but you didn't. You returned the next day as well, greeted him with that cheerful smile of yours and started talking about nothing in particular.

That went on every day for an entire month. Daryl never talked, never so much as managed a meaningless greeting or a slip of his name. He just sat there and listened to your rambling. Sometimes he contemplated not showing up; he could just find another place to relax, a place you wouldn't find, but then he reminded himself that the river was his spot. He found it first. One day, you'd realize that he didn't want your friendship and leave him be. He just had to stay strong until then.

He told himself he found you annoying. What kind of person keeps on going back to a person that never speaks, someone who's name you don't even know? He didn't care about you, and he certainly didn't care whether or not you showed up.

So why was he kind of feeling disappointed that you weren't showing up that day? Everyday, like clockwork, you'd show up at three pm, but it was already almost five pm, and you were a no-show.

Had you gotten the hint? Had you finally realized that Daryl was a lost cause and you would never get through to him? Would he ever see you again? And why the hell did he care whether or not he did?

Daryl sighed to himself and hugged his knees to his chest, staring at the blue water of the river. He was just about to get up and throw in the towel for the day when he heard rustling behind him.

“Hey! Sorry I'm late. I had some chores I needed to get done.”

Daryl couldn't explain the relief that flooded through his body. As he looked up and saw you approach with that happy smile of yours, he couldn't help the twinge of happiness that tugged at his being. You showed up, and as you placed a basket down beside him and removed your shoes to walk around in the shallow water, he couldn't help the way his lips twitched up into a small smile.

You walked around in the shallow water, sending him a smile. “You know, I saw that,” you told him, giggling at the confused look on his face. “The smile. That's the first time I've managed to get a smile out of you. Don't tell me you're starting to like me, Reaper. That would be the end of the world as we know it.”

Reaper. That was the stupid nickname you gave to him because of the Grim Reaper on his shirt he had worn the first time you joined him by the river. He guessed he couldn't blame you; you didn't know his name, so you had to improvise. Besides, from everything he had been called before, he couldn't be mad about Reaper. It wasn't the worst nickname in the world.

“You know, even though you don't talk, I'm actually enjoying your company. I know I can be annoying. Believe me, my grandparents never let me hear the end of it. But it's nice to know that I haven't scared you o—Woah!”

Before you could finish your sentence, you slipped on a rock and fell into the water. A huge splash formed around you, and you flailed around to get into a seated position. Once you managed to raise into a position where your head was no longer under water, you were pleasantly surprised to hear the sound of someone's soft laughter—Daryl's soft laughter.

“Careful. Heard the rocks 'round here ain't exactly dry.”

You were shocked, but a smile soon spread over your face. You let out a shocked laugh and shook your head, splashing some water in his direction.

“Yeah, you don't say, Sherlock?”

Daryl chuckled and got up, offering a hand to you. You accepted his offer and allowed him to pull you up, but not without splashing some more water at him first. He rolled his eyes and stepped back, turning around to sit back down in his previous spot.

“Well, now that I know you can speak,” you began, wringing the water from your shirt. “Could I maybe get your name now?”

Daryl shrugged, casting his eyes down to the ground. “Dun' know. Wha' do I get in return?”

“Well, I brought some snacks and sodas. You get first pick. How's that for a deal?”

Daryl looked up at you, feeling shy underneath your bright smile. He contemplated his choices; on one hand, he didn't want to start revealing things about himself. The less you knew, the better. However, on the other hand, he had already broken his promise to himself and talked to you, so he supposed he could offer you a name.

“Ya got a coke in there?” he questioned, crossing his arms over his legs.

You nodded. “Yeah, I do.”

“Daryl,” he responded after a few beats of silence. “My name's Daryl.”

You smiled brightly at him. “It's nice to officially meet you, Daryl. I have a feeling we're gonna be great friends.”

“Do I have a say in the matter?”

“Nope,” you giggled. “You're stuck with me now.”

For some unknown reason, as you grabbed a can of coke and handed it to him, Daryl realized that he didn't fully hate the sound of that.

©dixons-sunshine 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified, adapted or translated to any other site or platform without evidence of my given consent.

[glorious-spoon]

U …on a place of insecurity for steddie? 👀

Hi, and thank you! This got a little bit out of control, :D

-

The scars don't bother Eddie. They're not the first ones he's gotten; they won't be the last. He mourns the ragged bites missing from some of his tattoos, but he can always get new ones. And all things considered, as far as body art goes, it's hard to get more metal than a bunch of scars from being nearly torn apart by supernatural monsters.

Like. Metal as fuck.

It doesn't occur to him for a long time that Steve might feel differently. Part of it, at least for a while, is a case of embarrassing hero-worship that was probably inevitable after the guy slung him over his shoulders and carried him out of the underworld. Part of it is that Steve has a better poker face than Eddie anticipated, and a lot of experience at shoving down the stuff that bothers him so that he can keep moving.

So it takes him a while to notice that Steve wears collared shirts all the time now, scarves in the winter, turtlenecks that make him look like some kind of artsy hipster that he definitely is not. 

The scar on his throat fades from vivid purple to pink, but it still shows up when he tans, which Eddie knows because Robin (and, okay, the judicious application of Eddie's best weed) has convinced Steve to pull off his shirt and join them in the lake on this particular late-August day when they are, for once, not babysitting a pack of children.

"Come on," Steve complains, but he seems looser now, easier in his own skin than he usually is these days.

"Come on," Robin mimics. "Or I'm going to push you in with your clothes on."

"I'd like to see you try," Steve mutters, but he peels his polo shirt up and off over his head and tosses it behind him on the dock. There's miles upon miles of gorgeous skin, dotted with freckles and moles, and—yeah, a whole bunch of scars. Most of them are similar to Eddie's: torn skin stitched back together, the ragged lines of grafts and stretch marks that the doctor assured him would fade with time, as if he gives a shit. Eddie's are worse, but Steve still has the look of a patchwork doll clumsily stitched back together in some places. The line around his throat makes Eddie wince, though. It looks like someone tried to hang him; it reminds him too vividly of that moment in the Upside Down. Steve on his back, trapped and struggling and slowly strangling as he was eaten alive.

Steve glances at him. His shoulders hunch, almost imperceptibly, and then he shakes his head and dives smoothly into the water, taking long enough to surface that Eddie considers panicking about it.

Then Steve's sleek head breaks the surface. Robin splashes him, and he blows a fountain of water at her, and then Eddie gets in on it and it rapidly turns into a free-for-all before they all finally retreat back to shore, exhausted, and Steve pulls his shirt back on without even waiting to dry off.

They don't talk about it, not then. But Eddie spends the rest of the day thinking about it, and the rest of the following day, and then it's a week later and he's making out with Steve on the couch at his new trailer, which has probably been a long time coming, to be honest.

Steve's an unsurprisingly good kisser, and he seems perfectly enthusiastic about Eddie's wandering hands, laughing under his breath and hauling Eddie in until he's straddling him. Eddie laughs, delighted, and kisses him again. It's all going fucking great until his fingers brush the edges of the scar that winds up to a narrow terminus under Steve's jaw.

He feels it when Steve goes still, and doesn't realize why for a moment. Then he remembers.

"Should I not—"

"Sorry," Steve says immediately, and drops his head back against the couch, wincing. Eddie shifts his weight, wondering if he should move. But Steve's hands are still on his thighs, and he doesn't seem like he's about to shove Eddie off.

"Nah, man, it's okay. I get it, trust me. If you want me to be like" —he lifts both hands, palm out, demonstrating— "you know, hands off about the battle scars kinda thing…"

Steve makes a face, half a wince. "You noticed that, huh."

"I notice a lot of things about you," Eddie says honestly.

"Sorry."

"Like, I totally get it—I mean, not totally, obviously, but I'm not gonna do something if it freaks you out."

Steve sighs. "It doesn't freak me out. They're just—I don't know. Fucking ugly."

"They're not," Eddie says immediately.

Silence for a moment. Then Steve says, "I'm sorry. That was a dick thing to say."

"Oh, what, you mean because we got matching body art now?" Eddie asks.

"I mean. Yeah."

"Doesn't bother me. They're metal as fuck."

Steve smiles a little. And it's wanting to keep that smile, maybe, that has Eddie sitting back across his thighs to pull his shirt off and toss it aside, leaving him on display—scars and all. Steve's breath catches a little, but the look on his face isn't freaked out; instead, it's soft and wondering. "Can I—?"

"By all means knock yourself out," Eddie says, and then Steve's warm hands are smoothing lightly up his sides, over the patchy scar tissue. It still feels weird—oversensitive in some places, numb in others—but something about the way Steve is touching him right now feels reverent, almost. Then he leans forward to press a careful kiss to the worst of them, a big ragged shiny patch spanning the front and top of Eddie's left shoulder. Eddie shudders; Steve sighs against his skin.

"You like that," he says.

"I'm gonna be totally honest with you, I'll probably like just about anything you want to do right now."

Steve huffs out a laugh, ducking his head, and leans up to kiss Eddie's mouth again. Then he leans back and peels his shirt off too, a quick movement that almost ends in him elbowing Eddie in the face.

He's gorgeous like this, all freckled skin and sturdy muscles. And yeah, the scars—it's not that Eddie doesn't get Steve's deal with them. They're a physical reminder of the pain, of all the shit they went through, and they're the kind of thing that most people would probably have questions about, even if that question was just holy shit what happened, did it hurt?

Eddie was there, though. He knows.

"You can touch me," Steve says after a moment, during which Eddie seriously contemplates sitting on his hands to keep from doing exactly that. "If you want."

"Oh, thank god," Eddie says, all in a rush, and Steve starts laughing, the tension between them breaking.

Or not breaking, he thinks, as he slides a careful hand up Steve's scarred chest, lightly flicking a nipple as he goes and watching the quick intake of breath that nets him. Not breaking, just changing shape. Becoming sweeter. He keeps touching Steve, slow and careful, and feels Steve's tense body loosen beneath him just as slowly. Only then does he lean forward to press his mouth to the side of Steve's throat, where the scar is thickest.

Steve's breath catches again. Eddie stills.

"This okay?" he asks. His lips don't leave Steve's skin, so he can feel the way that Steve swallows before he nods.

"Yeah," he whispers. "It's okay."

Eddie kisses him again, closed-mouthed and lingering and as sweet as he can make it.

"Just means we survived," he whispers. "All this shit just means we made it. We're still here."

"Yeah," Steve whispers again. He tilts his head back, baring his throat to Eddie's mouth, and shudders when he kisses him there again. "I'm really glad we're still here."

[withasideofshakespeare]

Lennox’s Ambiguous Loyalties

I CAN’T GET THIS OUT OF MY HEAD so here’s a post about it! (Special thanks to the Hamlet Discord Server folks for sticking with me on this one!)

WHAT THE HELL IS LENNOX’S DEAL IN MACBETH?!

I remember vividly that the first time I read this play, one of our study questions was “what do Ross and Lennox respectively represent as characters?” and that it was the only question I couldn’t quite answer.

Ross seems fairly easy to understand. He’s sort of a Horatio-figure, a “narrator” in a play that isn’t his (to a lesser extent than Horatio, of course. No one beats Horatio in that regard.) He witnesses most of the play’s major events and comments on them (and it makes him fascinating as well as really sad). His loyalties seem to lie clearly on the side of goodness and justice. He’s relatively quick to turn on Macbeth once he realizes that he is guilty and seems to spearhead the rebel cause.

Lennox is an enigma in comparison! It’s entirely unclear where his loyalties lie and what his motives are. Most people (including my English teacher who wrote that study question) seem to view him as a foil to Ross—someone who stays loyal to Macbeth rather than rebelling, but I think it’s much more complex than that.

The only way I can think to explain this is to go through his appearances in order and try to glean what exactly his deal is and where his loyalties lie throughout the play.

1. Act 1 Scene 2

Lennox appears to announce Ross’ arrival. He notes the Ross looks in haste (which he probably does. When is he not in haste to deliver news to someone?)

This is his only line in the scene and it doesn’t tell us much about him. All we get from this is that he seems interested in whatever it is Ross has to say.

(2. Act 1 Scene 4)

Lennox doesn’t even speak in this scene, but his presence means that he overhears Malcolm’s haunting description of the execution of Cawdor (BUT GIVEN HIS LATER ACTIONS, IT MUST NOT STICK WITH HIM? He becomes a traitor in MULTIPLE DIRECTIONS!)

(3. Act 1 Scene 6)

Again, he says nothing but is among the party arriving at Inverness with Duncan.

4. Act 2 Scene 3

This is the first of Lennox’s significant appearances. He’s with Macduff when they’re harassed by the Porter but says nothing to him. His first line in this scene is in greeting to Macbeth. He proceeds to give a very Ross-like little speech regarding the strange occurrences of the night. I don’t read this as him being actively suspicious of Macbeth—I think it’s too early for suspicions. At this point, Macduff hasn’t even returned to report the murder. It seems Lennox is reporting on the facts of the night, maybe slightly shaken by what he saw (and presumably sleep-deprived like everybody in this scene). He tells us that he is young (“my young remembrance”), seems horrified when Macduff reports on the murder of Duncan, and is quick to accuse the guardsmen who Macbeth framed. He notes that they “stared and were distracted,” but seems to assume that their behavior was a result of their guilty consciences and not an altered state that would’ve left them unable to commit the crime.

What I take from this is that at this point, Lennox is fairly neutral. He’s quicker to blame the guards than most of the other Thanes (especially Macduff, of course), but I wouldn’t chalk that up to an active loyalty to Macbeth just yet. The fact that he doesn’t speak when Macbeth says he killed the guards in a fury is interesting, but I assume that’s because Macduff is easily doing ALL of the talking at that point (and perhaps because Lennox doesn’t want to publicly quarrel with the person whose house he’s staying in at the moment?)

(5. Act 3 Scene 1)

Lennox is present along with the other Thanes as Macbeth speaks to Banquo and begins his anti-Malcolm & Donalbain propaganda campaign (“bloody cousins”). Lennox seems to notice this language in particular because he will echo it later.

6. Act 3 Scene 4

Lennox attends the disaster banquet and is utterly confused by Macbeth’s behavior along with everyone else. He seems unsettled but unlike Ross, he seems to figure out when it’s time to stop asking questions and simply wishes Macbeth better health in the future.

I’ve always viewed this scene as a turning point for Ross in which he realizes that Macbeth is either personally behind the murder of Duncan or played some hand in it and follows his conscience by shifting his loyalties. Lennox seems to go a different direction. I’m not sure how, having attended the banquet, he could possibly be unaware of Macbeth’s suspiciousness or why he’d choose to overlook it in the long run. More on this later.

7. Act 3 Scene 6

THIS IS THE SCENE THAT DRIVES ME NUTS. I do not understand what is going on here or why (or if these lines are even supposed to be Lennox’s! For our purposes, I’m going to assume they are.)

Lennox enters mid-way through a conversation with an unnamed lord. He seems to be choosing his words carefully, saying far more between his lines than on them. He uses Macbeth’s language of propaganda to an exaggerated extent, accusing Fleance of murdering Banquo and Malcolm and Donalbain of killing Duncan.

Initially, he plausibly believes what he’s saying and has given in to the propaganda but it quickly becomes apparent that this is not the case. He gives a quick and ambiguous line about Fleance, Malc, and Don that seems to imply he’s glad Macbeth doesn’t have them in his grasps:

And I do think

That had he Duncan's sons under his key

(As, an 't please heaven, he shall not) they should find

What 'twere to kill a father. So should Fleance.

But peace.

Perhaps this means “he doesn’t have them because that’s not God’s plan,” but I read it as something more like “and, pray God, he never will have them.” If this is the case, everything he’s said previously is a sarcastic exaggeration and not an actual reflection of his beliefs.

He goes on to question the lord about Macduff’s whereabouts specifically, seemingly out of concern for a friend(?). It is implied that Macbeth already knows this information (WHICH IS WEIRD! But I won’t get ahead of myself!)

Lennox leaves us with his hopes that Macduff will be smart and stay far from Scotland for his own safety and wishes that an angel deliver to Malcolm Macduff’s report before he even arrives to haste them to free Scotland from Macbeth’s grasp.

As of this scene, Lennox seems to be acting just like Ross (if not even more extremely against Macbeth). He calls Macbeth “a hand accursed” and remarks that Scotland is suffering. It seems like he’s on the rebels’ side! But THEN THE NEXT SCENE HAPPENS AND TURNS THIS ON ITS HEAD???

8. Act 4 Scene 1

After Macbeth meets with the witches again, Lennox appears, apparently not heeding his own advice to Macduff about staying far from the Scottish court. He’s confused by Macbeth’s inquiries about the witches (who he either didn’t see or pretends not to have seen? Normally, I’d lean towards the former but given his history, WHO THE HELL KNOWS?!)

And THEN! He straight-up tells Macbeth that Macduff has fled to England which SEEMS TO SURPRISE HIM despite the fact that we learned in the last scene that learning of Macduff’s flight put him into a rage! And to further confuse matters, Lennox lies about the circumstances of his discovery of this information saying “'Tis two or three, my lord, that bring you word / Macduff is fled to England.” Assuming he’s talking about the previous scene (and what else would he be talking about unless there is a scene missing?), this is blatantly untrue! One guy came by and Lennox had a weirdly manipulative discussion with him in order to get Macduff’s location out of him. There were not “two or three” people and the one guy who did come certainly didn’t seem to be there to tell Macbeth (who he personally called a tyrant) about the whereabouts of his enemies.

Either this is a major editorial error or Lennox is playing some very weird game of shifty loyalties. The former interpretation may well be true given this play’s oddities (it’s strangely short and has some obvious non-Shakespeare additions like the Hecate/witch song scene which was added (probably) by Middleton), but that’s not very fun, so let’s go with the latter.

I think the best way to call everything we’ve learned in these scenes canon AND not directly contradictory is to say that what Macbeth was initially angry about was Malcolm’s flight to England, not Macduff’s. There is really no way to reconcile the idea that Macbeth has sent for Macduff to return from England with the idea that he is just finding out about his flight in the next scene. The only way I can make sense of this is that these scenes have been reversed or otherwise edited (perhaps 3.6’s Lennox is meant to be Ross, perhaps there is text missing that changes the meaning… WHO KNOWS.) but if we’re going to call it canon, I guess the best thing we can do to make this series of events make any sense without completely changing every line spoken is to say that Macbeth knows that Malcolm has fled to England and is upset and that he knows that Macduff did not attend the banquet and therefore sent to him to return, to which Macduff sent back the 1060 equivalent of “fuck off” and ran off to England.

(PLEASE tell me if I’m missing something here. This is driving me UP THE WALL and it seems nobody else has questioned it??)

Anyway, with this messy attempt to make the given canon make any sense, the implication is then that Lennox manipulated Unnamed Lord into giving him the information he wanted about Macduff’s whereabouts by pretending to be on the side of the rebels. He then double-crosses them by informing Macbeth and doesn’t argue in the slightest when Macbeth declares (in what is shockingly not an aside, at least in my text) that he’s going to murder Macduff’s entire family. Maybe he’s afraid to speak up, maybe this is where he changes his mind about Macbeth… but if that’s the case, why would hearing Macbeth’s propaganda—which he seems to know is wrong per the last scene—not be enough for him? Why can he recognize that Macbeth is a tyrant but only while trying to squeeze information out of someone? What does he want? I think the only reasonable explanation (beyond “this text is corrupt”) is that Lennox wants power and sides with whoever seems to be winning at the moment—and at this point, that’s Macbeth.

9. Act 5 Scene 2

To make everything a little extra confusing, the next time Lennox appears, he has suddenly joined the rebel army and seems to have a position of rank among them (he has a “file / Of all the gentry” in Malcolm’s army SOMEHOW—something that no one else seems to have).

WHY? WHAT IS HAPPENING? I AM LOSING MY MIND!

The only way I can think to explain this is that EITHER hearing Macbeth declare his plans to murder a woman and her children or realizing that Malcolm has become the most likely victor in the battle caused him to switch sides. That, or he was pretending to be on Macbeth’s side and therefore double-crossing Macbeth by pretending to double-cross the rebels (but if that was the case, why give him accurate intelligence?!)

With how incredibly wishy-washy Lennox’s loyalties (and, honestly, morals) have been up to this point, I think I interpret his joining of the rebel cause as a risk/gains assessment in which he decided he’s more likely to come out on top if he sides with Malcolm. Maybe my view is overly cynical, but I think Lennox is a character who is motivated by ambition just like Macbeth and will side with whoever seems to have power in the moment. He knows how to use rhetoric to his advantage and absolutely does so, regardless of morality.

10. (Later scenes in Act 5)

Depending on the editor, sometimes Lennox silently appears with the other Thanes in various scenes in act 5, but Folger does not include him, so I won’t cover this. It isn’t very important other than to confirm he survives the battle, which seems reasonably safe to assume either way.

…

Conclusions:

Overall, I’m not sure I answered any of my questions. I’m curious to see what others think about the 3.6/4.1 inconsistencies—is it an editorial error? Have I completely missed something obvious that makes it consistent somehow?

If I had to say what I think Lennox’s deal is at this point, I’d say he’s an ambitious young Thane who takes the side of the powerful for his own advancement but is shaken by Macbeth’s brutality which may turn him prematurely to the side of the rebels before their victory is quite secured.

If we are meant to take this scene ordering and allocation of lines as canon, I don’t think Lennox is faking his loyalty to Macbeth—why would he give up seemingly valuable information and put Macduff’s entire household in danger if that were the case? I think he is loyal, probably for his own sake (he seems to know that Macbeth is dangerous and disregards it), but doesn’t realize just how far Macbeth is willing to go for power. I imagine his role in the murders of Macduff’s family upsets him deeply and perhaps causes him to turn his back on Macbeth and join the rebels by act 5. He’s young, naive, and ambitious, clever with his use of rhetoric (see: 3.6 manipulation tactics), but inexperienced, leading him to underestimate Macbeth and try to justify his own loyalty by pretending he doesn’t suspect that Macbeth played a hand in Duncan and Banquo’s murders.

Aaaaand I wrote a whole fanfiction about this if you’d like a narrative version rather than this analytic one! Here’s a link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/54264247

[ploffskinpluffskin]

i may never have the actual courage to put myself Out There and post this particular story where anyone can see it (aka ao3 hhh) but it did make me smile while writing it

The problem, Natori had long concluded, was that Claudius was not handsome. Had he been even the slightest bit charming, or dashing, or even just relatively well-groomed, then perhaps Natori’s stubborn fondness for the cat might have been easy to explain away as mere infatuation. Certainly it would have left him feeling about as frivolous as a lovelorn schoolgirl, but it at least would not be some frustrating, unexplainable mystery.

Today the lavender-coated cat comes sauntering into the dusty church with a large, wolfish grin, stopping before Natori where he is counting their paltry collection of coins only so he can lean smugly against the doorway and wait. Natori eyes him with as much preemptive exasperation as he can muster (...which isn’t much, much to his own private dismay), and excuses his helper (who, also much to his private despair, regards the pair of them with a look that reads as unreasonably knowing). 

“Toldja I’d come back, babe,” Claudius says when they’re left alone.

“No,” Natori begins sharply, nearly interrupting him. “You told me specifically you were not coming back last time. I remember quite vividly.”

“Bahh, I was just mad. You know I can’t stay away from my favorite bump in the road.” Here Claudius moves closer, paying no mind to Natori’s own prim body language, slipping an arm across the other cat’s shoulders and pulling him close with a light hip check. “I’d get too sad.”

“Well, we can’t have that, I suppose.”

“Nope.”

“And I suppose this new wanted poster I’ve seen around has nothing to do with your impromptu arrival. Just a coincidence that you come back to where you can claim sanctuary just as you’re running from the bureau again?”

“Aw, babe, you’re killin’ me. I’m all genuine, promise.”

“Hm. And just what did you do this time to have their dubious attention?”

Here the other cat leans back, evidently finding the wall a better support for this particular position.

“Eh. You know.”

“I don’t.”

“Well, it’s not important.” Spoken hastily, in an all too telling fashion which Claudius doesn’t appear to recognize as such.

“No?” Natori looks up to fix his smug guest with an eyebrow raised over the flattest gaze he can currently manage, and he must manage it rather well since Claudius responds to it by fidgeting with his paws before he seems to realize what he’s doing. “I would never have imagined you as the type to ever say no to a rousing story.”

Most likely appearing more confident and nonchalant than he feels, Natori leans forward against the table he’d been previously counting coins upon, settling his chin against the butt of his paw.

“What inconceivably humiliating mishap must have occurred, I wonder, to make you reluctant to indulge in a little tall tale.”

Claudius huffs, glaring stormily at the paw he’s currently drawing circles on. 

“Sure doing your damnedest to make me regret coming back, babe,” he eventually grumbles under his breath testily. Here Natori finally smiles at him, cool but undeniably affectionate, despite himself.

“You say the same thing every time, and yet here you are.”

“Don’t get the wrong idea,” Claudius sulks.

“That you might loiter here for reasons other than my use as a bump in the road? Never.”

“Good. Glad we're all copacetic on the matter,” Claudius responds first briskly. At least before he adds moments later, almost mopily, “... the view isn't bad either.”

A long silence passes between them after that, Natori abruptly aware of how he is stretched across the table and wondering furiously to himself whether Claudius’ words were intended to be read as an innuendo. The other cat doesn’t leave him long to wonder— padding over, leaning forward so that they’re nearly nose to nose, and all with a wide, suggestive grin plastered upon his face.

“I think you’re happier to see me than I am to see you, babe. I can tell.”

Not that long ago, Natori would have felt quite scandalized by that. He would have recoiled, bitten off some panicked, impulsive denial, and Claudius would have been left nursing a massively bruised ego. They might even have argued bitterly, to the point that Natori might be left wondering if the other would ever return. 

Here, now, still at least patently unsure what to say, how to say it, he manages only a soft amusement, a slightly crooked look of knowing concession. And the effect must be rather novel, as Claudius remains in his spot as if mesmerized for a fleeting moment, and then hastily pushes himself back up again. Natori is not quite so eager to return to propriety, and is even bold enough to take a moment to stretch before straightening. There’s a mute warmth which has settled in his chest, a familiar comfort he’s in no hurry to analyze or dislodge.

“You haven’t had a meal in a while, have you.” It’s not a question. Claudius’ sheepish hemming and hawing is answer enough. Whatever he tries to say This is about in an attempt to seem the suave, rakish charmer he very much isn’t, Natori knows it ultimately comes down to the food.

It’s as they’re moving further into the church, Claudius quite uncharacteristically trailing behind in a dutiful manner, that the fluffier of the two tries, “Warmed up to me pretty quick this time, you know, babe,” in an attempt to salvage that aforementioned pretense. “I didn’t get you into some trouble last time, did I?”

Natori snorts, not turning around, not otherwise explaining himself, and responds idly, “Stranger things have happened.”

[jellywishdaydream]

I read the book 13 Reasons Why when I was in high school. Which was risky because it's suicide porn and I was already pretty depressed at that time. It felt very validating to me, because I saw so much of how I think in the dead girl's tapes. The part which sticks with me now that I'm an adult is this section near the end. One of the final traumas the dead girl endured before ending her life was this sex-but-not-quite in a hot tub. I remember feeling so much of myself and my potential experience in that chapter. The girl slowly ends up in this situation, where at any point she could have actually vocalized her disagreement to it, but she never does. It's this story of desperately wanting attention and affection and wanting to feel important to someone, if only for a short moment, but ending up in a situation which just emphasizes her own feelings of irrelevance towards her self.

I struggle with these situations. My high school experience, subsequent to reading the book, wasn't a parallel to that but through a few incorrectly-understood moments I trained myself to behave in a way which results in those situations. I remember vividly one winter night, perhaps sophomore year, where I was with a peer and I refused continuing further in a sexual situation. He agreed and didn't pressure me, but coincidentally he stopped talking to me afterwards for months. I was obsessed with this boy all throughout high school, for no particular reason other than a strong attraction which I could not shake.

I trust my partners to be genuine in their attraction to me, but inside of me still remains this fear. If I refuse, if I don't fulfill my partners to the level they are expecting or desiring, they will lose interest in me entirely. I try to communicate clearly, especially about my state of desire and how far I intend on going in a particular night. But something inside of me loses the ability to vocalize it if it seems that my partner is in disagreement with stopping. The third primal response, not fight or flight, but play dead.

It's so difficult to me though, perhaps more painful than the rejection I might receive from refusing. To have partners, especially those who claim to be in love with me, who don't seem to notice when I am practically uninvolved in our sex is such a rare kind of pain. How can it not be distinct enough for them to realize things off? Am I as a person so unnecessary to their pleasure and experience that I can be outside of my body and they can still reach climax without some level of disappointment?

There are three times in my memory where this situation has happened to me, in me. Beyond that, there were also times where I was less in the mood but more open to acting out my partner's desires. Those times make sex more difficult for me though, training my body to not expect my pleasure to happen. It feels like such a pattern sometimes, my inability to prioritize the importance of both of us waiting until I want it to happen. Waiting for me to feel something strongly enough to be an active participant in my own sex life. It's difficult, because I feel so numb so much of the time.

But I want it. I want to feel pleasure, and to be involved in the pleasure of others. I want to be important, at least to the people who are most important to me.

[friendofthecrows]

Yo, can I tell you the story of how my dad stopped being homophobic?

So he LOVES ice skating movies. He used to watch "The Ice Princess" with me on any occasion I would let him. He really likes the wholesome, inspirational themes that they often have.

So I tell him about Yuri On Ice, saying it's about learning to believe in yourself, and not letting doubts or past failures stop you from getting up and trying again. It's about family, love, and unlikely friendships, full of quirky characters and comedy. And of course, lots of skating.

So he agrees to watch it with me. At first, he's a bit pissy about the homosexuality aspect. When I ask him if he liked it after the first couple of episodes the was like "yeah, but not...those parts." He asks if we can watch more. Over the next couple of weeks, we finish the show.

At some point afterward he makes some comment about gay people, and I look him in the eye and say, "would you say that about Victor and Yuri?" in the most genuine, serious voice I can muster.

And so my dad has this horrified look of realization and goes, "...Of course I wouldn't."

He genuinely, as far as I can tell, stopped being homophobic after that. I could make some statements about the power of stories but it's just so funny: Gay Ice Skating Anime Cures Homophobia

[infinitefandomimagines]

Scarred - Zuko x Reader

WARNINGS: ARGUING, BURN SCARS, ANGST

-

REQUEST: zuko x reader where the reader is the last one to forgive zuko at the western air temple bc he accidentally hurt her in the crystal catacombs and than zuko goes to her tent, begging for forgiveness and she shows him the scar he gave her and it’s super fluffy:33

-

"Y/N. . . what do you say?" All eyes landed on you, waiting for your response to Aang's question. However, there was only one pair of eyes in particular you glared back at; and if looks could kill, the recently renounced Fire Nation prince in front of you would've surely met his demise right then. But Zuko knew how to hold himself in front of those who wanted to intimidate him. If there was anything his father taught him, it was that much.

Despite your fiery stare and previous threats from the first time he pleaded for forgiveness that you'd "knock him on his ass" if he ever came near you again, he kept his composure. There was no doubt in his mind you'd stay true to that warning, which is why he made sure to keep enough distance between the two of you.

There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes, so far Aang, Sokka, Katara, and Toph had agreed to let him join the team, albeit some more hesitantly than others. If everyone else found it in their hearts to forgive and forget, surely you could as well. Wrong.

"No."

You saw the last bit of hope fizzle from his eyes as defeat weighed down on him, causing his shoulders to sink and his head to drop. "I know you don't trust me, I don't blame you. I've done horrible things, hurt you and your friends-"

"You can't even begin to imagine the amount of pain you've caused me!" Your words held a venomous sting, yet your tone was strained, calm almost.

"Y/N," Katara stepped up behind you, her voice was soft. You could barely feel the hand she'd placed on your left shoulder, thick and itchy bandages blocking her attempt at comfort. "I don't like it either, but Aang needs to learn fire bending."

"I really believe he's changed, give him a chance to-"

You cut Aang off, finally breaking your gaze from Zuko to face the young monk. "He's already had too many chances!"

No one could admit that you were wrong, not even Zuko. Because every time he'd faught against your little group of rag-tag heroes, you'd given him a chance. Even while the rest of team avatar faught the exiled prince, you never threw a single blow that wasn't defensive or to save your friends. Instead, you'd offer him a chance to join the right side. Of course, he never accepted, but you saw the benefits of your kindness when he'd began to show a sense of mercy against you. There was something in your head telling you he was more than just a villain.

But that mindset changed when you and the gang faught against him and his sister in the crystal catacombs. When Aang almost died. When he chose the Fire Nation's side. When he'd made sure to leave you a permanent reminder of that day.

After a few moments of tense silence, you let out an impatience scoff. "Leave, Zuko. I gave you my answer, the least you can do is respect it."

Reluctantly, he nodded, mumbling out an apology before turning on his heels. He only got in a few steps before Aang interjected.

"Zuko, stop."

He did, glancing over his shoulder, ready to hear what Aang had to say.

"I'm sorry, Y/N, but Zuko is staying. I need need to learn fire bending and he's my only option. I really believe he's changed for the better."

"You don't have to forgive him, but Aang's right, we need him," Sokka added in, to which Toph agreed.

You took in their words, it was obvious they weren't up for debate. You hated that they were right, you all did need Zuko, no matter your current opinion on him.

"Fine," you sighed, looking at Zuko, who was now standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back. "But stay away from me."

Over the next few days, Zuko had somehow managed to gain the complete and utter trust of everyone, even Katara. Everyone except you. Then again, you hadn't had your "life changing field trip with Zuko" that made everyone seemingly forget about everything he'd ever done to them. Field trip or not, earning your trust wasn't going to be that easy. You didn't care how many times he made everybody tea and told cringey jokes.

"Where did you learn to make so many different types of tea?" Aang inquired, causing everyone to look at Zuko, wanting to hear his answer.

Zuko returned to his seat around the fire between Toph and Aang, finally finished handing out small cups of tea. "My uncle, it's his favorite thing to make, he even owned a tea shop at one point."

"You mean the one you betrayed," you deadpanned coldly. You flicked your eyes up from the warm cup of tea in your hands to Zuko, wanting to see his reaction.

His smile faultered, and katara shot a disapproving look at you. For a second you felt guilty, maybe that was too far. He looked genuinely hurt by your comment, but soon another emotion took over his features. You could see it in the way he clenched his jaw and sat up straighter.

"Yeah. That one." His tone was one of poorly restrained bitterness, you'd definitely struck a nerve.

You hummed in response, refusing to break eye contact with him, like you were challenging him to say something equally as cold, but he didn't take the bait. Instead, he took a deep breath, just like his uncle taught him.

"I don't get it," He asked, frustrated and fed up with your snarky comments and side eyes. "Everyone else trusts me, why can't you?"

"You really have to ask?"

Katara could feel the tension and awkwardness of the impending argument hanging over everyone. This wasn't the time nor place to be having this conversation.

"I think now would be a good time for another healing session," she interjected, giving you a look that informed you she wasn't exactly asking. With a frustrated huff, you stood up and made your way to your tent, not even waiting for Katara to follow.

You plopped down onto your sleeping bag, sitting with your left side towards the opening.

Katara was there in a few minutes, holding a medium sized bowl of water in her hands. She gently set it down on the ground, taking a seat on your sleeping bag as well, facing your left side.

You tugged your left sleeve down so you could free it. With your shoulder now exposed, she carefully removed the bandages that covered your shoulder and the side of your neck, revealing the red and scarred skin hidden underneath.

"How does it look?" You asked, attempting to ignore the itchy feeling of the fresh air hitting your wound.

"It's healing, slowly" she answered as she conjured the water from the bowl and molded it with her hands. She purified the liquid, causing it it glow. Slowly, she lowered it until the cool water molded over your injured skin. You clenched your teeth and whimpered at the sudden sting the contact made, but then Katara started making circular motions with her hands, beginning the healing process. The stinging pain soon morphed into a comforting cold and relieving sensation.

Katara had done this for you and Aang multiple times since the gang escaped from that wretched crystal catacomb. As much progress as your skin had made in healing, you couldn't seem to wipe the painful memories of how you'd recieved such a wound from your mind. You could remember the events so vividly it was as if they'd happened yesterday.

You were stalling, Zuko and Azula knew that, yet they didn't seem to mind. If anything, Azula enjoyed watching you struggle to give your friends more time. You needed to stall them long enough for Aang to fully enter the avatar state, that's all.

"Come on, Zuko, you know what needs to be done!" Azula coaxed.

"No! You still have a chance Zuko, you can still make this right!" You could see the conflict rising in him as you and Azula tugged at his morals.

There was a moment, a single second where his emotions betrayed him, where you could see how badly he wanted to go with you and the gang. But it was gone just as fast as it came.

"I will kill the avatar and restore my honor, as well as my rightful place beside my father!" He launched into action, sending overpowering blows your way.

He kept you distracted and unable to help your friends long enough for Azula to strike down Aang. Your head snapped towards Katara's screams and you saw him laying there, completely unconscious.

You were distracted, and Zuko impulsively took advantage, sending a blast of orange and red flames towards you.

In all honesty, he expected you to dodge it, you always did without fail. But this time you were too distracted, too concerned with Aang, and he caught you completely off guard. You didn't even realize you were being attacked until the flames painfully scorched your skin.

You let out a horrifying scream as you crumbled to your knees, your shaky hand hovering over your left shoulder as you tried to control your instinct to grab it, knowing it would only hurt worse. You clenched your teeth together, biting back tears as you whipped your head around go see Zuko.

He looked shocked, remorseful even, but that didn't stop anger from edging its way into your glare.

You shuddered at the memory and tried to shake it from your head completely.

"You're all done," Katara said, maneuvering the water back into the bowl. A dull ache returned to your wound, but it felt significantly better than before.

"Thanks, Katara," you mumbled.

"Do you need help rewrapping the bandages?"

You shook your head, preferring to be alone and do the difficult task by yourself. Katara seemed to understand, because she didn't push the issue like she usually would. Instead, she left you with a few words.

"What you said was too far tonight, you should really apologize to Zuko, he is trying you know?"

She didn't wait for a response, not that you planned on giving much of one anyway, but soon you were alone, relishing in the peaceful silence.

But your silence didn't last long, just a few minutes after Katara left there was a whispering voice just outside your tent. It was unmistakable who'd come to visit you, and with great reluctance did you let him in.

"What do you want?" you asked, annoyance filling your voice. You refused to make eye contact with the boy, opting to stare at the mess of tangled bandages in your hands.

Your question was met with silence, that only seemed to worsen your mood. Really? He invades your tent just to ignore your one question? This guy was just unbelievable!

You could feel yourself loosing your temperature once again. "I said, what do you-" Your head snapped up at Zuko, ready to tell him off. But you froze when you saw his gaze, and how it held your figure. His jaw was slack, and his eyes swam as tears pooled at his lash-line. But his eyes never met yours. No, his focus was completely on the uncovered scar that graced your left side.

Your shoulder had taken most of the impact, just shy of being completely colored with a dull red scar. But the wound didn't stop there, covering a decent portion of your shoulder blade. The red marking also stretched up in a jagged stripe, narrowing to a point on the side of your neck, just barely marking your cheek.

You hated how you shuddered under his gaze, and had to look away. Your fingers moving faster as your tried to unravel the tangled bandage. You wanted to cover the burned area as soon as possible.

"I- I did that." It wasn't a question. He spoke purely in matter-of-fact statements, he knew exactly where you'd received your mark from.

"Yeah." You said sharply, picking up the bandage and moving to re-wrap the large wound.

"I . . . I am so sorry-"

"You've said."

Re-wrapping the affected area was proving to be more difficult than you'd thought, especially in your heightened state or frustration. Usually Katara did this part, and you were starting to regret sending her away.

"Please, let me help you," Zuko pleaded, reaching a shaky hand out to grasp at the bandage in your grip. You immediately flinched away from him, the sudden movement sending a sharp pain through your left side.

"Stay away from me!" You bit at him.

Zuko immediately pulled his hand back from you, as if he'd burned you unintentionally for a second time. "I'm sorry," he impulsively spilled out.

"Would you stop saying that? Stop apologizing, nothing is going to make me- ow!" Your own pain cut your sentence short, the sharp pain returning, sending another shock wave up your side at your frustrated movements.

"I'm so- just, please, let me help you and then I'll leave you alone, I promise."

You took a moment to think about the offer, and as much as you didn't want his help, the promise for him to leave is what enticed you to agree. So reluctantly, you handed him the bandages and positioned yourself closer to him, allowing Zuko to access your wound and wrap it with ease.

With slow movements, Zuko began wrapping the burned area. His touch was suprisingly gentle, even more so than Katara's, something you hadn't thought possible. But even with his feather-like touch, your skin still twitched as his fingers and the bandages made contact with the more sensitive areas. Zuko muttered out small apologies each time you flinched, despite your earlier message to stop that. Though the skin had begun the early stages of scarring, it was still sensitive.

"Uh, d-did I ever tell you how I got my scar?" Zuko asked suddenly, not even bothering to look up from his task. You knew what he was doing, he'd been doing things like that since he got here, trying to make small talk with you to cover up the awkward tension. You usually never entertained it, but for some reason tonight you felt intrigued by his question.

"No." You answered shortly, trying your best not to show your growing interest. You'd always been curious about the scar.

"My father gave it to me," he stated, oddly calmly. It was almost mindless the way he told the story as he continued to carefully wrap up your injury. Like the memory had become second nature to tell.

"Oh," you whispered out softly, your mind buzzing with a million different ways to respond to him, yet none of them felt right.

"I spoke out of turn during a meeting, over a general. They wanted to sacrifice an entire division of fire nation soldiers to gain the advantage. But I-," He swallowed thickly. ". . . I thought that was wrong so I spoke up."

You nodded ever so slightly, letting out a soft hum, showing that you were still listening and waiting for him to continue. At this point Zuko had finished wrapping the bandages around your burn, allowing you to turn your body to face him fully.

"My father was furious with my disrepect towards the general. He said that the dispute would need to be resolved with an agni kai, and I accepted. And when the day came I thought I'd be fighting the general I interrupted, but then my father walked out, my agni kai was to be against him."

With each word you felt your heart grow heavier and ache for the boy you swore you hated. You were beginning to question whether you genuinely hated him or if what you truly felt was left over betrayal and anger.

"How old were you?" You finally asked the question that had been bouncing around your head since he began the story.

"Thirteen, not long before I was banished."

You felt yourself boil with anger, but for once it wasn't directed towards the boy in front of you. No, you were furious with the Fire Lord. Who could do that to someone? To a child. Zuko must not have noticed the way your jaw clenched and your fists tightened into balls, because he continued the story as if he hadn't just made your heart drop into your stomach with his answer.

"I didn't want to fight my father, I couldn't. But he took my refusal as another sign of disrespect. I begged for his forgiveness, but he wouldn't hear it. He claimed that I would learn my lesson through suffering. He raised his hand just in front of my face and then he-"

His voice caught in his throat with a crack as he visibly grimaced from the sheer memory of the event. Instinctively, you reached out for his hand, placing yours over top of his much larger one. Now it was his turn to flinch at the sudden contact.

"Zuko, it's okay, you don't have to tell me this, I understand-"

"No! I do! I need you to understand that I never meant to hurt you! I need you to know that the last thing I wanted was for you to feel the same pain I did. After what my father did, I never wanted to inflict that on anyone. I knew that pain and yet I still hurt you . . . the one person who actually believed I could change!"

His hands flew into the air as his frustrated yells of regret were lost to the silent night. He then exasperatedly brought his arms back down and dropped his head into the palms of his hands. His body shook as he took in deep breaths, trying his best not to shed any tears. He was just so frustrated with himself.

"I thought you would dodge it," His muffled whimpers poured out. "You always dodged it."

It was then that you realized how cold you'd been to the boy. You were so caught up in your own hurt and anger, only concerned with making him feel as horrible as you had with your hurtful words. Not once had you considered that he was already kicking himself ten times harder for the pain he'd caused you. He really hadn't meant to hurt you.

And that's when you did something unexpected. In an impulsive attempt to comfort him, you threw your arms around his neck, pulling him in to a hug. His breath hitched, obviously shocked by the gesture, his body going stiff.

"I understand now, I forgive you, Zuko."

At those seven words he melted into your embrace, returning it as he wrapped his arms around your figure. His chin now rested on top of your good shoulder, as he was being extra cautious as to not press on your burns.

"And I'm sorry, for what I said about you and your uncle. He'd be proud of you."

His grip on you tighten, mumbling out a 'thank you,' in the process, finally feeling as though he could fully begin healing from all the wrong he'd done.

-

TAGLIST: @theepartygetsmewetter  

[wereh0gz]

Ok but what if when/if surge and kit start working on undoing the brainwashing starline had done and trying to restore their memories they start remembering little things from their lost childhoods by rediscovering certain things they used to like

Like surge watching tv and a cartoon that seems really familiar to her comes on. Curious to see what it's about, she starts watching and soon feels this wave of nostalgia hit her as she watches the characters getting into funny antics. One particular moment sends her into a fit of laughter, and she begins to realize she used to watch this show as a kid. It was one of her favorites, and she vividly remembers dragging her parents into the living room to watch it with her. Her laughter soon turns into tears, but she continues watching the show fondly, cherishing the memory she had just uncovered.

Or kit seeing an action figure of some character he doesn't quite recognize yet, but feeling so drawn to it that he begs surge (or whoever's taking care of him if he's not with surge anymore) to buy it for him. Once they get home he immediately starts unboxing it and feels a strange sense of satisfaction once he gets the toy out all on his own. As he plays with it, he begins to remember a time when he was younger, playing with a large collection of toys similar to the one he had just gotten and acting out complex plots out of his own imagination. He hugs the toy close as tears well in his eyes, then continues playing, his tail wagging excitedly and the warm memory still lingering in his mind.

I can keep coming up with these little scenarios for a while like there's so many things that could be used to bring back memories like familiar places or foods or even just feelings like smells and textures and like. Ouudnjjdjdkskd they will not leave my mind help

[amazingphilza]

maniac :: cc!tommy x reader

angst (?) , platonic (?) , gender neutral ! ib: conan gray’s maniac

this is satire & note that i write the reader to be a few months younger than tommy (besides that, i think it is fully inclusive !)

synopsis : you put all your hard work towards a useless crush. with no expectation for reciprocated feelings in the first place, it still all ends in a bittersweet slap to reality.

you grew up with minecraft and it was an understatement to say it was part of your childhood

even years later, you still maintained interested in the game

it wasn’t just a simple video game, the community inspired you to do many things

you aspired to be like the creators you watched at a young age like sky, dantdm, cupquake, stampy, and many more

making people happy and entertained was a dream

and when minecraft slowly began trending again in 2019, you started making your own content whenever you felt like it out of fun

you never got much views but it was an enjoyable experience nonetheless

but it wasn’t until the first minecraft monday you decided to push a bit more with your hobbies and worked hard to make it somewhere

however balancing your passions with school wasn’t the easiest

given, you were still only around 15 and your content wasn’t even that good

with not much of a goal or plan with your youtube channel, you fell out of interest eventually

you loved minecraft but you always a rocky relationship with it; getting back into it for a few months then pretending it never really existed for another few

besides the occasional videos you watched in your pass time, you didn’t stay that updated

then lockdown happened

it changed everything and even got you regressing back to old interests

soon enough you were back to minecraft

there was so much to catch up on

hermitcraft season 7 just started, there was minecraft championships, and smp earth and smp live, and so much more to look forward to watching

you were a bit late on both of the smps but your interest peaked specially towards smp earth and it didn’t stop you from watching the past videos

you first gravitated towards a certain youtuber’s videos first since you remember stumbling onto his videos before from your recommended page; wilbur soot

besides recognizing him from his you laugh you lose series and making parody-type of songs, you didn’t know much

however with a few clicks, you had binge watched his smp earth series effortlessly

you found yourself falling down the endless hole, finding more creators to watch through wilbur

one in particular caught your eye in an interesting way

tommyinnit

my god, how can someone be so annoying and pushy in these videos? like shut up already

and to find out he was barely months older than you frustrated you

you just wanted to be better in some way

if someone like him could be popular, why can’t you? yelling at others and causing problems didn’t seem that hard

and so you went back to working hard on your previously failed youtube channel but this time with a goal; be better than tommyinnit

it was a weird aspiration in your head but it worked

he was your age and successful, why need a better motivator?

tommy wasn’t the sole reason why you strive to make content since you truly did want to create videos to entertain people like the youtubers you originally grew up watching

and with the amount of free time you had, you thoroughly analyzed his content; what was the most popular, how he streamed, edited his videos, everything

you just completely studied the algorithm in general

along the way, tommy’s personality grew on you

tommy was undoubtedly a very loud and energetic person but you became fond of his ambitions

you understood why he was popular at such a young age; he was a natural entertainer

your spite towards the boy turned into a hope

a hope to be at par with him someday and even be mutuals

and it was like your dreams were suddenly manifested into existence

you gained a large following in the early months of lockdown and even was recognized to be apart of minecraft championships

it felt like yesterday that you were just watching your favorite youtubers livestream the same competition

and now you were situation in a team to play yourself for the first time instead of being a viewer for once

not to mention, with tommyinnit as a teammate

how did you manage to get so lucky?

under the excitement, you felt beyond never nervous waiting in the empty discord call for your team to join you to practice the mini-games

in the middle of gathering your thoughts together, you heard a sound from discord signaling someone joined the call

“uh, hello?”

you heard the familiar british accent you spent hours listening to from countless streams and videos

“h-hi! i’m y/n, how are you?”

you hoped tommy couldn’t hear the strain in your voice due to fighting your nerves, but you quietly celebrated that you didn’t freeze up altogether

“oh i’m good, thank you. and i’m tommy by the way, this is the first time we’re speaking, yeah?”

“yep! it’s nice to meet you”

“yeah, i’ve seen your name around the timeline a few times, you seem cool”

oh my god what?

“thanks! um i actually really enjoy your content not gonna lie”

“oh wow, good shit!”

and the conversation smoothly went on, bouncing back and forth between you two before your other two teammates joined the call

once everyone was situated, you decided to start streaming since it was your first mcc and you wanted a vod of you practicing to look at later on as a memory

your chat immediately noticed how much you were enjoying yourself, especially after all the short stories of talking about who inspired you in the past

the smile plastered on your face never left

after stream and your other teammates went offline, it was you and tommy left in the call once together again

“it was nice talking to you tommy! and the practice was really fun, i cant wait for the actual competition!”

“yeah definitely, we’ll for sure place high”

“hopefully. it’s my first time and i hope i don’t cost us the dub”

“nah, you think so? i mean rt and plumbella are also our team mates so you know, it’s all for fun in the end”

you knew tommy was implying the teamwork wasn’t going to be the best compared to the other teams but at least in the end you’ve both made a new friend

“yeah you’re right!”

“anyway it’s getting late imma hop off”

“okay tommy, talk to you soon?”

“yep!”

“alright byee”

“bye!”

the moment he left the call, you felt a sense of relief before a small wave of sadness took over

you wanted to continue talking to tommy but you knew you had other responsibilities to tend to

for the rest of the day, you couldn’t stop thinking of the call and mcc practice

the funny jokes, singing random songs, screaming for no reason, everything

it even kept you awake until the early morning

you buried your head in a pillow and screamed into it after realization hit

y/n no

no no no no no no no

you tried to recall anything that remotely related your other teammates which you remembered that didn’t include tommy

even if it was a few hours ago, you couldn’t pin point something specific

no

i must just be forgetful, right?

what the hell did rt and plumbella even say that whole call?

you vividly remembered everything with tommy and it was clear to you why

surely not

with putting a hand on your chest above your heart, you confirmed that you couldn’t lie to yourself based on the rapid speed

you liked tommy for a good while but it hadn’t clicked to you until now

eventually you fell asleep due to exhaustion but that’s to say you didn’t do so without imagining spending more time with tommy

ever since that day, time went by in a flash

your team didn’t do the best in mcc but it had been a while since then to have that as a concern

sadly you and tommy didn’t talk as often as you hoped but that didn’t make you have less feelings for him

on some days you felt bad since you thought you didn’t know enough about him to even be allowed to crush on him

it was a bit unprofessional but you were nearly 16, it’s normal to have these little crushes right?

eventually time came to rescue when tommy asked you if you wanted to accompany him in the dream smp

undoubtedly, you said yes

and for the few months during summer, it was where you two became even closer than before

however, once both of you two had to go back and attend school, it was harder to catch up with each other

even on calls together off stream, the occasional snapchat notification going off irked you in a way you couldn’t explain

only winter break was the small pause on your disappointment

but even then, it was a slow but steady hill of repressed sadness and frustration until early spring of the following year

you had hoped 2021 would be better than last year but after scrolling through twitter one day and seeing stans making rumors about how tommy had a crush on one of his classmates gave you the same pain you felt when school started last fall

you dreaded to look over at tommy’s most recent story time stream vod where all the gossip arose from; it was him stumbling over his words with the mention of a girl during a certain part

jealousy wasn’t the right word to describe the way you felt

you would never go out of your way to make tommy reciprocate the feelings you had for him

and if he liked someone else the way you saw him, you wouldn’t mind

having a crush is ecstatic, and if he has someone like that too, you should be happy

right?

you tried

what finally broke you was seeing a tiktok a few weeks later of tommy in college with eryn and another girl talking

you didn’t know how she looked like or anything but you wanted to sob

good for him

she didn’t even say much in the video and you dont know enough about tommy’s personal life to jump to conclusions like this

you knew you were acting irrational and you couldn’t be upset at tommy for something he couldn’t control

if anything, you never directly showed interest in him

you didn’t want to in the first place

it was a bad idea from the start

you looked back at the past year and all your intentions

what kind of sick fanfiction did you think you were living?

becoming a content creator, hoping to blow up, just to talk to a big youtuber you had a crush on?

oh my god

y/n what is wrong with you?

listen to yourself, y/n

you need to get some help

whether tommy was dating or even just had interest someone was none of your business

you had to move on no matter what it was and be good and supportive friend

it was dreadful to get over a stupid crush like this but after so much work you put in, you gave some sympathy for yourself

in a friend perspective, you were happy with whatever tommy did and was satisfied your friendship together, but you hadn’t realized how much you gambled from the beginning

and just for a crush?

you couldn’t comprehend how far you gone because you fancied someone

it wasn’t like anyone could get famous and become a popular content creator either

and now with you being on the dream smp along with a successful youtube channel at 16? you were grateful something pushed you enough to work this hard

but you’d never forget the fact everything that lead up to this point was a crush on no other than tommyinnit which first spurred from complete spite

“who’s the one better off now?” your thoughts mocked you from the complete irony

sigh

y/n, you maniac

[perhaps-in-anotherdream]

Hi!

How are your exams going on? I hope I don't disturb you. I wanted to ask, any picture of Victor which touched you very much? (it can be more than one.)

Wishing you a nice day!

Hiiiii Lys~ (｡^ ω ^｡)ﾉ♡

My exams are going pretty good thankfully. To be very honest, your question actually relieved me from the stressful times and let me fall back into the “deep marshland named Victor” LOL.

I think you can already guess some of the CG(s) I’m going to enlist, and they're WAY more than one. >.< And each one of them does hold great significance to me. Rather than the CG itself, it’s actually the meaning it holds. I very well might launch an essay here, please bear with me. 🥺

⌚ CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THE MAIN STORY, DATES, FUTURE CGS AND EVENTS UNDER THE CUT ⌚

-

✧ S1 CH [ 18-16 ]

When I was going through the gallery, this CG suddenly reminded me one of MC’s monologues while trying to word her feelings about Victor in the latest SP.

“Since we have never held back from each other, even if I exhaust everything I have, I think it is worth it too.”

- Uncontrollable Factors

And the event of the CG above is a very good example of that. This was one of the darkest, if not THE darkest period in MC’s life. Everything and everyone in her life fell apart at that time. Metaphorically, the fragments of glasses became the physical representation of her life in that very moment – including the very person she made that cup for in the first place.

“That busted cup looked totally out of place next to him. Victor said he was going to bring back the past me, but did I really want to see him like this?”

- [CH 18-18, S1]

Even though she struggled at first, as you’d expect from someone trying to be strong, she ended up letting down ALL her defenses before him. He didn’t do anything special, just wrapped her in his embrace, sat by her side, and that was more than enough. At that moment she realized she doesn’t have to put up a front before him, ever. <regardless of however much he teases her LOL>

“Warmth permeated through my half-soaked clothes as I leaned on his chest. I was in complete disarray, but Victor didn’t seem to notice. As I breathed, his faint scent as chilly as a winter’s day slowly soothed my uneasiness and worry. Even if he had already forgotten me, it was still that same old, never-changing Victor.”

- [CH 21-22, S1]

This gets reflected more vividly through the winter world interactions. She ended up having a heart-to-heart conversation with a Victor who didn’t remember her [CH 21-23, S1], and him being the only exception before whom she didn’t even bother putting up a front at the beginning– in the Black Cabin [CH 24-12 split routes].

“...From beginning to end, he has been guiding me to forge ahead, using his methods, so that I can always run ahead of regrets. In the moments I was about lose my strength, he always appeared in time, and wouldn’t let me fall.”

“I look at his tall figure from behind. The cool breeze that was clogged in my throat, seems to entirely dissipate by certain warm cognition. No matter how, or what way the future changes, there will always be only one Victor.”

- [After the crisis, CH 4-10, S2]

“My both feet step on the ground unsteadily, and in the next second, I am suddenly taken into his arms. Warmth emanates from the chest I am leaning against, seeping through the half-wet clothes. Despite all my embarrassment, Victor doesn’t seem to care in the slightest.” 

- [Natural Harbor, CH 7-2, S2]

Now for Victor’s vulnerability – for someone as closed off as he used to be, he didn’t mind her seeing him as a total mess, neither did he care about entirely dropping off his calm as the mountain amidst the calamities appearance before her.

“He slept fitfully, his brows tensed, as if he had the weight of the world on his shoulders.”

- MC’s POV, Behind the Curtains 04

“I just squatted by him, took out a bandage and tapped up a wound on Victor’s finger. This was all I could do.”

- [CH 18-18, S1]

To certain extent, this particular event made their pillar of mutual trust and working together as partners as the story progressed forward- unwavering as ever. And it’s very important for two people to realize they can and should be vulnerable and open in front of each other. Then and only then, that love will have the resilience to survive through TEN THOUSANDS years and more, literally and figuratively.

-

✧ S1 [CH 27-10] & S2 [CH 17-4]

Need I say more?

I had to put these two together because they are inevitably linked with each other. I have already made a post regarding the pinky promise, when I didn’t even know what was going on in the 2nd CG – although my assumption was correct. :'(

The 1st CG is the long awaited reunion after the whole thing of S1 CH 18. The 2nd CG is the re-enactment of that S1 reunion moment and this is the 2nd elaborate “re-enactment” scene so far in S2 after the CH 10 wish carving on the tree.

What’s ironic about this S2 CH 17 CG is that, this was another one of the lowest times in MC’s life. When MC is reminiscing her S1 reunion with Victor, he is not physically present in that room. She’s only imagining he is there.

“There are many things waiting for me to do. But I still need some strength and courage to withstand the restlessness in the depth of my heart.

It’s dark in the room, which inexplicably makes me remember a long-awaited reunion – a very long time ago.

My eyes were blindfolded by the fabric. But I still impatiently wanted to confirm that, the person in front of me was him.

I wanted to hear his voice, wanted to hear him call my name.

....In this way, I can feel at ease.

And for this reason, I also made a promise with him in a very childish way.

Thinking of the scenario at that time, I cannot help but laugh a little, and follow after the memory of the action by stretching out my hand.”

- [ The Agreement Across Time and Space, CH 17-4, S2 ]

This not only shows how deep her feelings run, but also reflects just how much impact he has on her — both then and now.

“Those memories related to him are akin to a room that will never fade into ashes, in this prolonged time – hosting me again and again.”

- [ Reunite Date (相逢之約), S2 ]

-

✧ S1 [ CH 37-4 ] - Victor Route

JUST LOOK AT THEM. JUST. LOOK. 🥺

The one on the left – surviving through countless moments of life and death for ten thousand years and more, countless unlisted sacrifices. The other on the right.... apart from the “ten thousand years” – rest is pretty much the same. But alas, this moment of peace was fleeting as well. :'(

I shall refrain myself from quoting anything here, because I’m afraid that I might end up quoting the entire chapter. However this two instances.... *hides in a corner*

MC: All I want is to be your dummy. I want to live the most ordinary, the plainest life I can. I will let you have endless worries every day, and endless proposals that need to be approved, and I will bring you all sorts of trivial worries.... Then in the blink of an eye, y- you can.... <Chokes up>

- [Victor Route, CH 37-5, S1] 

→•←

“My only wish is to be together with him. Being joyful and giggling is not too bad, neither is a bumpy and difficult road. As long as I can steadily nestle in his arms like this.... I don’t want anything else. But what’s more important than this wish of mine is.... It’s Victor himself. He can’t just accept his end like this.”

- [Victor Route, CH 37-5, S1]

→•←

On another note, see those scattered photographs?

★ Fairytale Date – Victor promised MC, he can give her a fairytale ending. Needless to mention what he did to try and make that happen. :'(

★ Warm Winter Date – “No matter how much time or space separates us, nothing can come between us.” ♡

★ Eternal Promise Date – They tacitly made the vow of loving each other for eternity with the exchange of heart lock and key. ;-; ~ ♡

-

✧ Rooftop Date & Eternal Promise Date:

LOOK AT THE CONTRAST IN.... EVERYTHING.

★ Rooftop Date - Victor opened up for the first time about his mom, and this guy really loved his mom beyond words – for which he even traversed through timelines at a very young age, causing himself endless suffering, only to be doomed to no end [R&S Fleeting: CH 33-34 ] – the exact way it ended up with MC every time until CH 36 happened.

The intensity of his love for his mom is described in details in this R&S: ♡♡

Needless to say, opening up about his mom to MC was a huge step for him. And giving him the Shiba-Inu doll which her dad gifted her was a huge step for MC as well, and she gifts him that same doll in S2 [CH 4-13].

★ Eternal Promise Date – Apart from the heart lock-key exchange, Victor surprised MC on his own birthday by taking her to his departed mother’s house. The rest.... *wails* and he looks so happy.... ;-;

-

✧ Deep Love Date & Taste of Life MQ:

★ [1st one] THE ELDREDGE KNOT! THE ELDREDGE KNOT!! THE ELDREDGE KNOT!!! Seriously, I will never stop yelling about that knot. 🥺

★ [2nd one] JUST LOOK AT THEM. 🥺

Actually I’ve already written a huge essay on the importance of that knot, how these two dates complement each other, reflect their growth as partners and individuals, and how they switched places with each other– completing another circle.

I will link it here for the convenience: ♡♡

-

✧ Rainy-Day Date & Sleepless Night MQ:

★ [1st one] – This is actually my PC wallpaper. The date and the CG itself speaks for what I mentioned at the very beginning of this post. In their dating universe, at that point in time – MC had the worst day of her professional life, and again, she let down ALL her defenses before him.

Again, he didn’t do anything special. He showed up just at the right moment, stood there in the rain with her, pulled her into his arms, listened to her problems, told her again (1st time was in “Taste of Life” MQ) he is just an ordinary person like anyone else who has his own weaknesses, and that was more than enough to lift her up.

Victor: I’m no different from you. There are many things that are simply beyond my capabilities. So you don’t have to act strong. It’s okay if you fail. Don’t suppress your emotions. I won’t tell you to force yourself whenever you face a challenge. It’s just not realistic. But one day, you will become a better person with enough courage and experience to handle all challenges. [...] But before that, I hope you can learn to rely on me. You always have the right to be vulnerable when you are with me.

- Rainy-Day Date

→•←

“I knew I could run to his arms whenever I was in the lowest point in my life. If I was a little boat drifting away, he would be my only safe haven.”

- Rainy-Day Date

To prove the authenticity of these words, even one of Victor’s chapters in S2 (CH 7-2) is named as “Natural Harbor.” ;-;

-

★ [2nd one] – This was the first kissing SP karma and I still remember how psyched I was when it was first released LOL. It was released exactly a year and a few months from the “Rainy-Day Date.” And this date reflects just how much MC needed those assurance, winning her big media award - and living the fruits of her dedication with him by her side, which gets a new level in the “Uncontrollable Factors MQ.”

“After giving my thank-you speech, I happily raise the trophy towards the audience. Victor smiles faintly, joining me as we face the applause of the audience. At this moment, a sudden surge arises in my chest. I can’t help but turn towards him. He happens to turn his head towards me at the same time. The smile in his eyes is even more striking than the spotlight.”

- Sleepless Night MQ

We also get another tiny glimpse of just how much she wants him to be by her side.

MC: I had a selfish reason for wearing these earrings today. You gave them to me, so I hoped they would bring me good luck, and also.... It would be as though you were on the stage with me as well. I didn’t think that….

- Sleepless Night MQ

We get another tiny glimpse of just how much she wants to be by his side.

“For such a long time, I’ve been continually working hard and never letting any opportunities slip me by. Apart from the passion I have for the program and being a producer, it’s also because.… I wanted to stand on a stage that he had walked on, and stand at the same place he stood.”

- Sleepless Night MQ

And we get another affirmation that they will stand and fight together no matter what life throws in their way.

Victor: The future you foresee, as you said it yourself, has both flowers and thorns. Are you ready for it?

I nod subconsciously.

Victor: Me too. No matter how far you go in the future, I am prepared… to never let you go for eternity.

I will continue working hard and running forward, and he will always be by my side – becoming the deepest source of strength in my heart.

- Sleepless Night MQ

-

✧ Exhibition Date:

This was the first date in which they talk about “leaving traces” of their own on each other- which afterwards becomes a very frequent topic in their dates, and several dates being based on this topic specifically, including the latest SP date. Given their storyline – it’s understandable why it’s so heavily emphasized on.

On another note, They say, “Eyes are the window to the soul.”

I could stare at this CG for the rest of my life and I’m not even kidding LOL. Just look at the tenderness in his eyes, threatening to overflow through the screen. Yep, that’s the man who braved ALL the OTHER-WORLDY dangers, sacrifices literally for endless years and countless times – only to return to her side. And that’s the girl who knows she is SO DEEPLY loved like that by someone. And all the pain she has braved is worth it too, because as she said it herself – 

~ ♡

[vennilavee]

love lockdown (7)

pairing: levi x reader summary: an anniversary spent together, and an old memory. warnings: wine, cursing, suggestive content, feelings of insecurity, smut (levi gets pegged)- 18+!!! word count: 4.3k a/n: based off of several asks you guys sent me hehe (the ones about the sweater curse, and tbah couple being the winery couple) tbah masterlist

Levi has been knitting for a long time, for years now, since a little before his mother had gotten sick. His mother had been the one to teach him- she had tried to even as a young boy, but he hadn’t really paid attention to it until he was older. He remembers how happy she had been when he had woven his first wool scarf. It’s been several years since his mother passed away, but he still keeps his knack for knitting alive and well.

Besides, it’s a way for him to feel close to his mother.

Levi has his favorite techniques tucked away in his brain and his favorite types of fabrics tucked away in a royal blue box in the corner of his linen closet. His trusty knitting needles also sit in the same box. It’s been a while since he had taken them out.

But he has decided that he’s going to knit you a thick blanket. Who better than to knit a blanket for anyway?

Once you and Levi begin to rack up anniversaries, Levi feels the need to do something different. Neither of you had celebrated monthly anniversaries because you felt no reason to (other than a nice candlelit dinner for your six month anniversary), but this specific moment in time feels different. Mainly because he’s come to the calming realization that you are it for him. And really, it’s a realization that has been brewing warmly for the last few months.

He’ll make it out of sunflower yellow yarn. The color that reminds him of you.

The idea is planted in his head about two months before and he sleeps on it. Before deciding that he wants to do it. It’ll take some time to finish, and he thinks he can have it done in a month or so.

Levi’s favorite way to knit is with a glass of whiskey and with the television turned on for background noise. With every stitch, he finds himself thinking of you- will you like it? He hopes you will- it’s not much, but it’s him.

But he has nothing to worry about, because he knows you’ll appreciate it. It’s part of why he keeps you around, after all.

“Dude, you’re knitting her a blanket? Have you never heard of the sweater curse?” Mike asks incredulously, “I would think you, as a well seasoned member in the knitting community, would know what the sweater curse is…”

“The what,” Levi says flatly. 

“The sweater curse,” Mike repeats with a raise of an eyebrow.

“You repeating it doesn’t tell me what it means. Spit it out.”

“It’s when someone who knits makes a sweater, or anything really, for their significant other. And then the couple inevitably breaks up, because one of them realizes that they put in way more effort than the other,” Mike says. He says it so knowingly, as if it’s fact.

Levi scoffs with a slow roll of his eyes. But still, something uneasy settles in his chest. He tries to quell it before it sprouts and blossoms, and he does a mostly good job of it.

But Mike’s words stay with him for the rest of the day. Even when you had called him to say goodnight from your apartment, it had lingered in the back of his mind.

You could tell something was off- after all, you like to think you could read him like a book. Despite him giving you his full attention, you could tell he was distracted-

“Levi? Is everything okay?” You ask softly, “You seem... preoccupied.”

“Yes,” He says instantly.

With that, you don’t push him. But still you frown a little at him, wondering what could be bothering him. You decide to change the subject. It’s taken a while, but these days, if something was bothering him then he would tell you.

After letting it fester for a bit and after he tried to work through his feelings on his own.

“Hey, can I come over this weekend? I have something for you… And also your bed is comfier than mine.”

“Just say you wanna sleep on my bed. No need for false pretenses.”

“Well, it is a well known fact that your bed is superior to mine…”

You don’t push him and Levi is grateful for that. Maybe he’ll voice his concerns when you come over.

The blanket that Levi is preparing for you still needs about a week of work, but they are coming along nicely if he says so himself. The material is soft- he’s particular about what he works with and for you, he’s even more picky.

With each weave and stitch, he grows a tiny bit unsure about the stupid sweater curse. He curses Mike for putting such a stupid idea in his head. But what if it holds some truth to it? After all, he can vividly remember the instances of breakdowns in communication in the beginning- how many times he was so quick to jump to conclusions rather than talk things out with you.

He’s come a long way since then, but what if the stupid curse holds some truth to it?

His slight spiral takes a backseat when his phone vibrates, a text from you letting him know that you’ve just parked your car and you’ll be inside in a few minutes.

Levi makes his way to the lobby to greet you. Almost every time he does this, you protest, telling him that you can just meet him in his apartment. But every time, he greets you in the lobby whenever you visit him.

It’s small, but it makes your heart sing happily for your chivalrous man.

Levi takes your bags and touches your elbow lightly as you both wait for the elevator to ding. In the privacy of the elevator, you kiss him hello quickly. 

“How was the drive?” Levi asks, rubbing your wrist.

“Felt longer than usual,” You admit, stifling a yawn. Levi hums in acknowledgement and keeps a hovering touch over your elbow as you both walk side by side to his apartment. You allow yourself the luxury of resting your head against his shoulder as he unlocks the front door.

“I would’ve come to pick you up if you were tired,” Levi scolds gently.

You shrug, “I don’t mind the drive, baby.”

Pet names slip easily from your lips when you’re in each other’s privacy and comfort.

“Go change and wash up,” Levi murmurs, patting your ass fondly, “I have dinner ready. I’ll pour you a glass of wine, shiraz good?”

You hum wordlessly and squeeze his arm with a grin. As you fumble through your small duffel bag that you specifically use for whenever you stay over Levi’s place, nerves begin to fizz up in your veins.

You sincerely hope Levi enjoys the small gift you had for him. Pulling on one of Levi’s looser shirts, your favorite purple hoodie and cozy leggings, you pull the gift tucked away in the side of the duffle bag and hide it behind your back.

“Hi,” You mumble softly, molding yourself to his side in the kitchen where he is setting plates for you both, “I have something for you, baby.”

“And what’s that?” Levi asks, bringing you in front of him and pressing your back against the kitchen countertop.

“Sit with me on the couch,” You murmur, tugging his hand in yours gently. Levi sees a small package in your hands as you not discreetly try to hide it from him.

You seem a little nervous, picking at the hem of your hoodie before finally raising your eyes to meet his.

You hope he likes it.

“It’s not much,” You mumble, “But…”

Levi unwraps the blue wrapping paper dotted with little cartoon stars on it with a raised eyebrow. His lips are pursed together in a thin line, wondering what it could possibly be and how he didn’t know you were planning to gift him something.

He thinks about the nearly completed blanket hidden in his bottom dresser drawer.

“It’s getting cold, and I know you don’t like how cold your neck gets in the winter,” You say, watching with wide eyes as he pulls out a rich navy sweater from the wrapping paper. It’s warm to the touch, the material thick and of good quality.

It doesn’t feel store bought.

“Did you- did you make this?” Levi says, almost incredulously, “You made this for me? Since when do you knit?”

“I don’t,” You say sheepishly, “You like knitting and I wanted to make something that you like. Or try to make something at least. If it’s shorter on one arm than the other, mind your business.”

Levi rolls his eyes and pats your head fondly. It had taken you months and hours to figure out what you were doing, with the help of videos and the elderly lady that you bought your fruits from on Saturdays.

He can’t believe you had done this right under his nose. But should he be so surprised, considering he is doing the same?

He wants to tell you about the blanket sitting at the bottom of his drawer, but he refrains. The sweater is a rich, blue that brings out his eyes (at least, according to you).

Levi instantly takes his shirt off to pull the sweater over his torso as you watch with hearts in your eyes. 

“I know it’s not much… Do you-mmph-”

Your sentence is cut off by the abrupt press of his lips on yours. Levi leans over, laying his weight on top of you and kisses you soundly- his tongue slipping in your mouth with the tilt of his head. The material of the sweater tickles your chin and your cheeks. You’re surrounded by him- his kiss, his touch, his distinct love.

Levi knew he was worrying for no reason. The sweater curse might exist for other couples, but not for you both. 

“Thank you,” He mumbles into your neck, his cheeks heating up, “It’s really warm.”

You only beam at him, adoration clear in the edges of your smile. Levi looks handsome, infinitely more handsome than usual since he’s wearing something that you made for him.

Your love looks good on him. 

The memory of the sweater curse is amusing now, when Levi looks back on it. Now, five years later, he’s with you at a winery in celebration of your anniversary. You’re spending the night at a nearby hotel- you had picked the winery and Levi had picked the hotel.

If Levi was a painter, he thinks this would be the perfect picture to paint. You, in a sea of green vines and a clear sky beaming down on you. You, with your glowing skin and mischievous eyes. You, with love sitting in every crevice of your smile that you give him.

Maybe someday he’ll paint it. You, his sunshine personified.

“Mmm, Levi darling. Don’t you think this red wine contains a note of blueberry? Perhaps some...how do you say...raspberry?” You giggle behind your wine glass, the liquid swirling around carelessly.

“It’s a pomegranate wine sweetheart,” Levi says in amusement. You always do this at wine tastings, pretend like you’re an actual sommelier when in reality you and Levi mostly believe that all wine tastes the same. 

“Close enough. It’s in the same family,” You huff.

“Oh is it? Blueberries taste like pomegranates now? What kind of berries have you been eating?”

“It’s called wine. You should try it sometime.”

That earns you a subtle swat of your ass and you giggle happily.

“It’s gorgeous out,” You sigh.

“Yes, it’s almost as gorgeous as you,” Levi says flatly and you nearly throw a slab of cheese at his chest, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Tell me you think I’m pretty.”

“You already know I do.”

“Tell me anyway. It’s my birthday, remember?”

“Your birthday just passed.”

“Okay, and? It’s still my birthday season.”

“You know you’re gorgeous. You know I think you’re gorgeous,” Levi rolls his eyes and then smirks, “But you’re prettiest when your mouth is stuffed full of-“

“I’ll blow you right here in these vines, don’t test me.”

“Stop making empty promises that were both too classy for and finish your damn wine.”

You beam at him and clink your glass noisily. It nearly slips from your grip but you catch it in time.

“We have about an hour until the wine tour. Think we can finish this bottle by then?” Levi murmurs, tugging on your hand for you to settle in his lap. 

The vines you’re seated in are far, far away from the main entrance of the winery. Away from prying eyes. Which is why you both allow for a little touching, a little kissing and a lot of flirting. 

“Who do you take us for?” You mumble and turn your head to kiss him lightly, “We’re wine connoisseurs. Sommeliers, if you will-“

You laugh wildly when Levi playfully nips your neck and steals a sip of your fruity wine. He wraps an arm around your waist, holding you tightly. His long, lithe fingers brush against your bare thigh. It’s funny, even after all these years, he still manages to touch you in a way that feels like magic. 

You both finish your glasses of wine and eagerly fill them both up to finish off the bottle.

Your lips are stained a pretty red, matching Levi’s own lips. You touch his lips with your fingers and he doesn’t even swat your grabby hands away.

“There’s some cheese at the corner of your mouth,” You say flatly, “I’ll just get it off-“

You kiss him and he expects it, already used to your antics. He doesn’t let you get very far, only allowing you to slip your tongue into his mouth and only allowing himself a plentiful grab of your ass.

“Wow, Levi, keep your hands to yourself. We’re in public,” You laugh to yourself, shooting him a pretend glare.

Levi only sighs and pops a cracker and cheese into his mouth, his hands never leaving the curve of your ass. Your giggles are higher pitched than usual, your limbs and your lips a little looser. 

Tipsiness colors your dark eyes when Levi pulls your sunglasses off. “You’re not fooling anybody, sweetheart,” Levi jeers, “You're drunk off your ass.”

“No! I’ve only had like… two glasses!” You protest, grabbing your sunglasses back from him.

Levi looks at you in disbelief but says nothing. He indulges you in taking selfies with him and deciding to change your lockscreen to a new photo of both of you.

He can’t resist kissing your cheek after another half a glass of wine. “Mmm, you’re pretty,” Levi murmurs into your neck, his face warm, “You wore this dress for me?”

It’s one of his favorite dresses and his favorite color on you, and yes, maybe you did wear it because you’re very well acquainted with this information. 

“No,” You roll your eyes and ignore the pinch to your waist as he tightens his arm around you, “I wore it for the wine tour guide. She’s really pretty, I might ask for her number-”

You swat his shoulder when he has the audacity to bite your neck in response. “I’d call you a vampire but you’re looking more golden than usual, my love,” You poke him, “That’s what happens when you get more than two minutes of sun per day-”

“You’ve got a mouth on you today, huh?”

“Gonna fuck the attitude outta me or what?”

“Tempting, but I’ve got wines to taste.”

Once the wine tour starts and you both get progressively more and more tipsy, blaming it on both of your affinities for wine, you make grabby hands for Levi’s cheese and crackers. He glares at you, close to pushing your hand away, but you stick your tongue out at him and swipe them anyway.

“God, fuck, you know what would taste good with this wine,” You whisper (but really it’s more of a low groan).

“What?”

“Fuckin’ Thai food,” You moan, cracker crumbs sticking to the side of your mouth, “Fuck, babe, I could go for some pad see ew…”

You huff, a dreamy sort of look in your eyes at the thought of it.

“You’re interrupting the wine guide,” Levi scolds, swatting your thigh. Though his eyes are starting to unfocus as the heat of your thigh feels so nice in his palm. He thinks he’ll leave his hand there for a bit.

“This tastes like I just dunked my head into a crisp apple and sucked the juice out of it,” You murmur, giving him a mild cider.

“Like in a good way?” Levi whispers.

“Duh.”

The wine tour consists of a few other couples and groups, but you and Levi keep to yourselves at a corner table as you give each wine you taste a rating. They all begin to blend in with each other after each taste, and pretty soon, you’re heavily leaning against Levi. The scent of his warm, spicy cologne curls around you and envelopes you in a hazy daydream filled with shades of grey.

“What?” Levi whispers when he sees you staring (a little dopily, he might add).

“Nothin’,” You grin, “Wanna nap at the hotel after this?”

“Can’t believe we’re getting drunk just to nap together,” Levi scoffs but he squeezes your hand.

“We have reservations later,” You remind him, “We both need to rally before dinner, honey.”

“Are you ready, baby?” You purr, stroking Levi’s hair back and leaning over to kiss his forehead. A pretty peachy pink blush colors his cheeks and creeps down to his neck. You tug his bottom lip out from the grip of his teeth.

A thin sheen of sweat coats his skin. You grin salaciously with hungry eyes and lick a stripe up his neck. His breath hitches, tilting his neck to the side a bit and you kiss his neck even over his pretty necklace with a green pendant hanging on the gold chain.

It’s pretty because it’s your necklace.

The softness of your lips over his skin- his chiseled chest, his lower abs- is a nice compliment to your fingers gently skimming his sides. You sit back, looking down at him from above. You lick your lips to moisten your suddenly dry mouth.

You’ve seen Levi like this, pliant and glistening for you too many times to count. But still, the sight of him flusters you and sends an instant rush of wetness flooding your pussy.

You adjust the straps of the black harness around your hips, tugging at the pretty purple silicone cock that hangs heavy between your legs. Levi tracks your movement with blown out eyes and a hand wrapped around his own thick, dripping cock.

“Did you like my fingers, baby,” You murmur, letting your hands travel up the expanse of his chest. His muscles tense with your touch, goosebumps arising instantly.

Levi hums, reaching for your hands and rubbing your knuckles. 

“Mmm, words, my love,” You mumble, pressing a thumb to his plump bottom lip. His hot breath warms your finger when he opens his mouth to reply with a soft ‘yes, sweetheart’, his voice heady and low. Broken and slow with desire for you.

You pull away from his lips, ignoring the way arousal swirls in your belly and your clit throbs with how needy he looks already. You reach forward and stroke his cock languidly and gather his wetness over your thumb and press your thumb to his bottom lip again.

“Open, baby,” You say, your own voice sounding a little raspy, “Open up.”

Levi parts his lips and allows your thumb into his mouth and he swirls his tongue over it, tasting himself on his lips. You groan at the sight with hooded eyes, wishing for some friction over your clit.

You look like a vision hovering over him- your legs tanned and glowing, eyes zeroed in on him, looking at him like you want to absolutely ruin him. You are a goddess, and he’ll follow you wherever you might take him.

Especially when you slide into him slowly, deliciously, as he savors the slight burn as it dissipates into pleasure. Your grip is tight over his hips, warmth and electricity spreading from your fingertips to his belly.

You’ll ruin him, ruin the silky navy sheets below him, steal his soul from his cock. All of the above. Anything you give him, he’ll take. He’ll take it with open lips and open legs.

It doesn’t take much for you to find a rhythm with your palms flat on the sheets on either side of Levi. Arousal licks your insides at every gaze of his heated cheeks and his murky, grey eyes. He’s openly vocal with you, panting and mewling into the sheets, alternating between fisting them and holding your hips with a searing grip.

“God, baby, look at you,” You whine, leaving open mouthed kisses to his chest while still rocking your hips into him, “Is this okay, baby? I love you-”

Levi groans and nods, wrapping his legs around your waist for a deeper grind of your cock. He palms your tits, squeezing in his large hands and moans into the space between you both.

“Are you wet,” Levi asks in a strangled voice.

“Fuck yeah,” You grin, thrusting your hips in a slow grind into him. His cock is throbbing, standing tall and pretty for you. You stroke him slowly, matching your thrusts with your strokes.

It takes coordination, but you’re used to it.

“Wanna sit on my face?” Levi murmurs, squeezing your thighs with his heavy hands. He’s close, so close, and you both know it- his thighs begin to quake slightly. And he has the familiar look in his face when he’s about to cum, his eyes go dark, lips parted and his eyebrows are furrowed into a tight line. 

“Mmm, maybe later,” You reply instantly, wanting to see him come undone by your hands and by your cock. By you, by the steadfast beat of love that surrounds you both and envelopes you on this silky sweet cotton candy cloud.

Or maybe it’s just the sheets.

“Is my baby close?” You purr, dark eyes swirling, “My baby’s gonna cum?”

“Fuck,” Levi groans, throwing his head back onto the bed when you thrust into him particularly harshly. The column of his pretty throat is exposed to you and you lean forward, his cock still in one hand. Sucking a mark on his clavicle, you nip his earlobe and his breath hitches as you make your way down his chest.

“Your cock is so big in my hands,” You marvel softly, looking down, “You’re so big, baby…So good to me. My big, strong, sexy man.”

And apparently, that’s what he needs to finally cum, a long, drawn out groan of your name slipping out of his mouth as he shakes in your hold. Ribbons of cum paint your hand and his lower abs, some of it even spraying on your harness.

“You’re messy,” You tease and Levi only hums in acknowledgement, “Are you okay? I’ll go get you water and clean you up, sweetheart.”

Levi doesn’t move, only shifting on his side tiredly. You make your way to the fancy, marbled bathroom to unclasp the harness and clean yourself up. Your pussy still throbs, achingly so, but that’s the last thing on your mind.

He calls your name gruffly, voice a little hoarse. You return to him with a glass of water and wrap your arms around him from behind, kissing the back of his neck gently. Your fingers thread over his sore muscles, his abdomen and his thighs and you rub his scalp soothingly with a deft touch.

“Are you okay?” You murmur, hugging him close to your chest.

“Yes,” Levi says instantly, “More than okay.” He turns in your arms and pushes his head into your bare chest, inhaling deeply and innocently grabs your ass. Just to hold you close- his touch is mostly unassuming. He likes being close to you, touching you, just breathing with you after times like this when you steal his soul with your cock.

You glance down at him and smile, pushing his dark hair away from his forehead and press a kiss to his sweaty skin. Levi nuzzles his cheek further into your chest, a content hum rumbling in his chest. His thigh brushes against your aching core and you force yourself to stifle a groan. But he catches it, because he always does.

Your attentive man.

“You didn’t cum,” Levi states, letting his hand drift downwards to palm your sensitive pussy. 

“We have later for that,” You mumble, swatting his hand away but he doesn’t listen. He presses himself closer to you, sinking his lips into your neck and rubbing your clit lazily.

His long, lithe fingers slide into your wetness easily and you huff into his ear. “We have now for that,” Levi murmurs, nipping your jaw as presses his finger into your dripping core, “Slow with me, baby.”

It doesn’t take much for you to cum, just a few strokes of his fingers in you and a few slow circles of his thumb on your clit. It hits you slowly, crawling up your toes before curling in your belly in a warm stroke of flames. It’s unhurried as it blooms in your belly, allowing you to savor every second of it.

“Sit on my face later,” Levi says, pulling you closer into his side. You throw a leg up around his hip and hum in agreement. You press a kiss to his clavicle, the slow of his heartbeat in tandem with the gentleness of your fingertips rolling through his hair.

“Happy anniversary, my love,” You mumble, kissing the corner of his mouth.

“Our anniversary was on Friday,” Levi says with a turn of his lips, earning himself a swat to his chest, “Happy anniversary, pretty girl.” 

Levi kisses your forehead, his knuckles brushing your cheek before dipping down for another kiss. 

“Cheers to many more,” You say, smiling into his kiss. He replies by deepening the kiss and pressing your back to the bed, allowing himself to drop on top of you. 

Levi’s touch has always made you feel infinite, and this time is no different.

tags: @simpingmaize​ @captainchrisstan​ @kentobean​ @alrightberries​ @melancholicmonologue​ @regalillegal​ @castellandiangelo​ 

[svenotes]

drabble #1

❝ the one where your one night stand turns out to be your boss ❞

[ PAIRING ] : jeon jungkook x reader | bff!hoseok x reader

[ GENRE ] : office au (not the tv show lol) + crack, smut (mentioned)

[ WORD COUNT ] : 1.7k

[ WARNINGS ] : mentions of sex, a lot of banter, jungkook only appears for like two seconds so this is more best friend!hoseok and oc bickering 

[ AUTHOR’S NOTE ] : i’m trying to get back into writing, so here’s some funny banter w plot

drabbles | masterlist | wattpad cross post | ao3 cross post

“Besides, when have—!”

“No.”

Hoseok frowns, eyes narrowing on you. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

Going through your mental checklist, you neatly place the documents in your hands on your boss’s desk. Today has been a hectic day at the office. It was a miracle that you even managed to finish everything by the end of your shift. On days where you can barely tell the difference between left and right, you found yourself clocking extra hours. You suppose you have Hoseok to thank for that. By some grace of God, he was assigned on the same project as you and as annoying as your friend could be, he also knew when to keep things professional.

He’s already set to leave for the day, waiting for you to finish up. Since the days are getting shorter, he’s made the habit of walking you to your car after work. He stares at you with a dubious look in his eyes, and you hold it for a moment before you walk towards your cubicle to pick up your keys.

“I know you,” you start, grabbing your purse and keys. “I know what you’re going to say because I know you.”

Hoseok scoffs at that, crossing his arms over his chest. A part of you hopes he stops his questioning and drops the topic altogether. However, you know Hoseok. Dropping a subject isn’t his specialty, even if the world demands that he should.

As you try to leave your office, Hoseok blocks your path. “Y/N.”

You keep a straight face. “Hoseok.”

“I am your best friend—!”

“Debatable.”

He ignores you and continues, “And I love you—!”

“Also debatable,” you murmur.

“—which is why I cannot for the life me understand why you would keep secrets about your sex life from me.”

He catches the attention of a few of your co-workers. You brush them off with a smile, wishing them good-night before you pull Hoseok inside an empty office by his loosened tie. He lets out a choked cough as you drag him in and shut the door behind him, keeping your conversation away from prying ears.

“Are you trying to kill me?” Hoseok hisses, rubbing his neck. “I just want some details about the new guy you’re screwing. How’d you meet? How long has this been going on? Why was I never informed you were dating someone?”

You close your eyes, pinching the bridge of your nose. “For the millionth time, I am not dating anyone. And there’s nothing to know—!”

“You’re lying! Again!” He points a finger in your face. “You left the bar with someone on the night of Ellie’s birthday and you’ve been secretive ever since.” He narrows his eyes. “Who are you hiding?”

You swat his fingers away, brows furrowed. “I’m an open book. I have nothing to hide.”

“Bullshit. You're as open as Yoongi.”

“How is Yoongi?” You ask, not-so-subtly deflecting. “It's been a while since I’ve seen him. You need to stop keeping him all to yourself. I miss my ex-roommate.”

Hoseok and you have known each other for as long as you’ve been working for the company. He sat in the cubicle beside yours and over time you became good friends. Yoongi, your roommate at the time, stopped by the office to drop off some lunch and met Hoseok before you could introduce them.

At first, the two despised each other, their personalities crashing — Hoseok too bright, and carefree and Yoongi more mellow and conserved. However, things began to shift between them over time and now Hoseok walks around with a ring in his jacket pocket at all times.

Hoseok’s cheeks dust pink. “I haven't proposed yet if that's what you're wondering.”

“Just let me know who’s best man I’m going to be,” you laugh.

“None of ours, ‘cause I’m going to ban you from the wedding—!”

Your eyes widen, appalled. “Why—!”

“Who are you dating?”

Your mouth clasps shut, glaring at him. “No one.”

It’s not a lie, Jungkook and you are not dating. Your relationship with him was far from romantic. However, Hoseok doesn’t know that and you’re not sure how you're supposed to tell him. Especially when it seems as though your past is trying to relive itself in the form of another man. You worked hard to move on from when you fell in love with your co-worker — you’ve worked so hard to put the past behind you and keep your professional life separate from your personal. Yet, it’s as if all of that hangs by a thread, threatening to slip through your fingers because history is trying to repeat itself.

How were you supposed to know your kind-of one-night stand was the youngest heir of Jeon Enterprises? You wouldn’t have dared to take a bite of the forbidden fruit if you knew.

A headache forms at the very thought of Hoseok’s lecture once you explain to him you unintentionally fucked your boss. It’s why you’ve been avoiding him and deflecting his questions throughout the day. You sigh, meeting his eyes.

What Hoseok doesn’t know cannot hurt him, right?

His eyes narrow on you, mouth opening for a rebuttal, but the knock on the door silences him. Your attention turns towards the door and you forget to breathe at the sight of the man at the door.

Jungkook's eyes immediately find yours, a small smile tugging on his lips. He looks sweet — innocent, even. Nothing like the man who feasts on you like fine cuisine. Your breath gets caught in your throat when you vividly remember the sinful things he can do with those lips — that mouth. You push the thoughts to the side, mirroring his smile despite the rapid pace of your heartbeat.

“Mr. Jeon,” Hoseok speaks first, clearing his throat.

Jungkook's eyes widen a fraction as he finds Hoseok standing a few feet from you, mirroring the shocked expression you wore moments ago. As if he didn’t even notice Hoseok’s presence.

“Please, call me Jungkook,” he starts, sheepishly, running a hand through his hair. “There’s no need for formalities.”

Hoseok simply nods. “Right. Jungkook.”

“I — uh,” you clear your throat, ignoring the heat that rises to your cheeks as Hoseok's scrutinizing gaze flickers between the two of you. “Did you need anything?”

“Ah,” Jungkook’s eyes flicker towards Hoseok. “Nothing in particular. I was going around trying to get to know the team better. You just seemed preoccupied earlier and I didn’t want to disturb you, so I thought I’d catch you now.”

“Oh,” you say, stupidly.

“We were was just about to head home,” Hoseok adds, glancing between the two of you. “We’ll see you tomorrow.”

"I see,” Jungkook hums and his lips curl into a frown momentarily. “It was nice meeting you today. I look forward to working with you both.”

You hold his gaze for a moment before you respond, “Yea, likewise.”

“Me too,” Hoseok deadpans.

Swallowing, you ignore the look Hoseok sends you. It’s clear, he knows; he's put the pieces together. You will the heat in the apples of your cheeks to dissipate as you keep your composure.

“Goodnight.” Jungkook nods at Hoseok before returning his attention to you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Night.”

As he leaves, his gaze lingers on you for a second too long before he walks away. You let out a breath of air you didn’t realize you were holding, hand resting against your thundering heart. Hoseok waits for the door to shut and for Jungkook to round the corner before—!

“I’m not going to lie,” he begins, leaning against the desk, “that was painful to watch.”

“Shut up.”

“You’re fucking him.” It wasn't a question.

“We slept together a few times,” you sigh, pressing your fingers against your temple. “He said he worked at his father’s company, but I didn’t know his father was CEO of Jeon Enterprises. It didn’t even piece together that he was the Jungkook our team manager was talking about until I saw him this morning.”

He lets your words sink in, humming as he studies you. “He was totally gonna ask to fuck you tonight.”

“Shut up.” You throw your keys at him, but he catches it with ease. “We’re… supposed to meet tonight.”

He raises a brow. “To fuck?”

“Mhm.”

You’re supposed to meet tonight for a date, but Hoseok already knows too much. Telling him you decided to humour Jungkook for a date will only worsen your headache. Mainly because Hoseok will tell you the only reason you’re humouring him is since you like him.

Only two weeks have passed since you first met and look at the mess it’s already created. What should’ve been strictly a fuck-buddy relationship has turned for the worst.

“You probably shouldn’t.”

“I know.” You slouch, defeated as you lean against the desk beside him. “I know.”

“Wow — wait.” Hoseok’s shock turns into a frown. “You bailed on me Sunday night for mediocre dick, didn’t you?”

“Not mediocre dick,” you sigh, reminiscing the last time you went over. Although, it doesn’t last for long — “Ow! Hoseok, what the fuck?”

“That's for bailing on me,” he snorts before flicking your forehead again. “And that was for telling me his dick game is good.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing, but that doesn’t stop the rush of memories from last weekend. Limbs entangled between sheets, hands grazing every inch of your bodies and lips twined with yours. Your body still remembers the comfort of his warmth as he brought you to euphoria over and over again. A mere memory makes your knees weak.

Your phone buzzes in your hands and you suppress your groan.

[ 6:14 pm ] jungkook (dude w the nice dick): you still coming over?

You don’t realize Hoseok leans over to read your text until —!

“Booty-call.”

Flicking his forehead, you ignore Jungkook’s message. “Come on, let’s go.”

“Alright,” he says, following after you. He keeps quiet until you’ve both entered the elevator, away from other’s prying ears. “Are you going to visit him tonight?”

“I don’t know.”

Your thoughts are torn between right and wrong — your career and pleasure. Meeting him tonight and ending things would be the right decision, but you’re not entirely sure you would be able to avoid his advances if you tried.

You’re screwed.

It’s been long since you crossed the Gates of Eden and sunken your teeth into the divine fruit, and now you’re addicted to the taste.

You are so incredibly screwed.

all rights reserved © 2021 svenotes

[stardustincarnate]

YOU SHINE LIKE THE STARS, YOU LIGHT UP MY HEART // Touta Matsuda x Reader

word count : 2585 genre : fluff <33 (stargazing with this pretty boy!!)

It was a sight to behold—the empty of clouds but shrouded with twinkling stars with the right distance from one another. They were visible in every direction. What a perfect night to stargaze. You had just gotten out the yard of your family's house, accompanied by a cup of hot milk and cookies. Unfortunately you forgot to bring your eyeglasses so you had to head back inside—a surprise welcoming you when you saw someone who didn't belong in your house.

"Touta? What are you doing here?"

That was a little... impertinent. You felt guilty. It wasn't like you weren't happy to see him, you were just shocked. Plain shocked.

"Hey [Y/N]! Haha, good evening!"

He was a bit skittish, maybe nervous. You noticed how clammy his forehead was, with the reason being just finished looking at you through the loophole in the kitchen wall. "It's been a while. You look.. dazzling.. as always."

"If your definition of dazzling is someone who looks like a zombie who's just gotten out of bed, thank you." You smirked, wearing your glasses. "What made you come here anyway? Isn't it late? It's your day-off today?"

"Yup. Thought of visiting a.. friend. You see, I—I really missed you! Work hasn't been the same since you le—"

"Hm, I know that tone. Come on Matsu."

"Hey! It's not that I'm complaining! I still like my job, it's good. But it could be better if you're with us, despite your never-ending bad mood. Hehe..."

"Ooh, so you missed me, that's why you're here. You wanna catch up."

"Of course?" He sheepishly rubbed his nape. You smiled slyly and hummed, trotting back to the yard.

"Come. You're obliged to."

Matsuda followed, hesitant to sit beside you on the grass, only until you pat the space beside you. He kept on constantly shifting his legs as you munched on your cookies, offering him some. You two ate in silence, looking at nothing in particular as the night breeze hit you. The wind's eerily ethereal howl rung in your ears, blending with the faint sound of the television from inside.

He pursed his lips and looked at you, blushing while waiting for the right time to speak. You thought the same thing even without looking at him. After some time, you spoke, immediately cutting yourself off as he did the same. Of course, that's bound to happen.

"You go first."

"You're my visitor. I know you wanna ask me some things."

He fidgeted the hem of his shirt. "How.. How have you been?" You snorted, shaking your head fondly. "I'm fine, I guess. Nothing interesting though, really. No thrill in my new work plus my bitchy subordinates. I swear, Matsu, if I get full, they'll know I'm the worst of their kind."

"Show them who's boss [Y/N]! You do look scary and mean after all.. I mean—"

"Hey! I'm not as mean as I look like! I only am to Satan's spawns."

"I-I was kidding—"

"Chillax, of course."

"But at least you are actually kind and can cope with me."

"And your stupidity." You jested. He flushed pink and frantically shook his head.

"What's your new work anyway? Am I the only one among your peers who doesn't it yet?"

"Nah, they've no idea too. I'm currently working as a hotelier. But I think I'm... Is old-work-sick even a thing? Something like that."

"What hotel?"

"Not too far from the station. You just gotta grab a taxi and voila—you're there. Hm, why ask? Thought of visiting me frequently? Eh? Eh?"

"N-No! I mean.. why not? Just thought of.. visiting you during my free time, just to, you know, chatter with you. Because—because you boost my mood.. in some sort of way."

You felt your heart melt. "Aww, I'm happy. You do the same to me. And you know? I've thought of visiting you in the station as well."

"Really? You should! I—I mean.. only if you're free of course. I've been feeling out of place lately. They're still nice but I don't know. Maybe it's just me..."

"They're preoccupied with work, that's why they barely interact with you. Focus on your work, it'll make you less lonely." You said, plaintive.

"But I am focusing.."

"No, hocus focus! Not focus focus. You know what I mean?"

"That's vague, but okay?"

"And yeah, if I visit you, it won't be very frequent. I'm sorry Matsu, even if I want to. I don't want to get scolded by the inspector or the chief. I don't wanna get you in more trouble too. Even though I'd often, er, miss you, too."

The words came out, unbidden, and you mentally smacked your forehead. His eyes softened as you stared at him. He smiled, and you could tell that he was still restraining himself because even his eyes were smiling, his ears turning red. You found his smile cute and rather infectious. You cleared your throat. He averted his gaze elsewhere, mumbling.

"Why did you have to quit.. I wish you had stayed."

You sighed then pursed your lips. "Me too. But my parents don't like it anymore. Well to begin with, they never liked the idea of their only daughter being involved in a perilous job. But the arson was what really ended it all."

Matsuda looked crestfallen after you'd mentioned it. He clenched his fists. He could still remember that day vividly—the day you almost died. He remembered how he struggled to not look at the criminal because he was afraid he might start thinking of doing unjust things to the person who almost killed you. He sighed.

"I should've stayed with you. That would've never happened."

"No no, chin up Matsuu! The fire didn't even fully touch me 'cause even it was intimidated of how hot I am compared to it." You chuckled, casting him a wistful glance. "I was reckless. My bad. And that recklessness led to that. So take it from me. Think thoroughly before you act. I wouldn't want the same thing happening to you, you reckless bean."

"Noted Madame!" He laughed.

You smiled and looked up the sky, tapping his shoulder moments later.

"Yes, [Y/N]?"

"You stargaze often?"

"Not really. I can't remember the last time I did. Do you like stargazing?"

"Needless to say. I often do it. You should, too." You nudged his shoulder with yours, your proximity making you blush. You both threw your heads back and stared at the stars in silence. You began making random patterns. Matsuda giggled as he found one that looked like the initial of your name.. or as he had tried to convince himself.

"This peacefulness, it's my dolce vita! Nothing but the question of how many stars we could count. I can do this for hooours."

"Your neck will turn numb.. Mine's already feeling a little.. eh."

"There's no need to worry when we can just lie down."

You could see the redness of his cheeks after hearing that. You could almost giggle.

The two of you lay down on the grass, him spacing out a little. His shoulders were tense, his heart banging his sternum that he was afraid you'd hear just how loud it was. But eventually he relaxed when he saw you not minding the proximity at all.

Matsuda looked up, his smile growing larger and larger the more stars his eyes caught. But he had completely forgotten the counting-star-thing you said.

The night was silently still. Television from the inside had been turned off so the only noise you heard even from the distance was the sound of nature. You controlled your breath, afraid that it might disrupt the stillness. You began to grow lethargic from all the star counting. Alas, you gave up and stopped at number 42.

You looked to the side to see what progress had he made. None at all. He was not only staring at you—he was smiling! Looking at you like you are his world!

Once he realized you were also staring at him his face turned beet red. He wanted to look away, but how? There were you, exchanging stares of adoration. Hah. All that was needed was a label.

You had the strongest urge to lean in and kiss him. Kiss him? Oh [Y/N], control your thoughts! Sigh. If nothing would miraculously interrupt the stare session, you'd really kiss him.

Nothing. Nothing. The universe was in favor of you. And you know the drill.

You took the opportunity to face him and lift yourself up from the grass. Your stare could've frozen him on his position. He was going to explode in mushiness. It's almost like the wind was all it would take for your lips to press.

You rested your elbow on the grass and gently caressed his hair. You cupped his cheek with your other hand, your thumb circling it. You closed your eyes, praying you wouldn't fail this one. You did it slowly on purpose, but seemed like Matsuda opposed that. He inclined and cupped your face, kissing you.

But only for a mere second.

Your torso clumsily fell flat partially on him and the ground because of your initial awkward position. And you didn't even feel the kiss because of your forgotten eyeglasses.

"Aha...haha... Uhm—[Y/N]—you okay?? I'm—"

You sat up and boldly chuckled in spite of looking like a four-eyed tomato.

"That went veeeeery well."

"So.. ah.. the thing earlier.. moments ago—" It's as if he was trying to convince himself that it really happened. And he couldn't contain his infectious smile and laughter anymore that you were sure reached the entire neighborhood.

"What waaas that!"

You laid your glasses aside and tossed yourself at him. He fell on his back with you on his top, your legs in a tangled mess. As he wrapped his arms around your waist, he wheezed.

"I hope you're not dumb at this stuff because I hopelessly am."

"Whaddaya meaann?" You were certain he was teasing you. You clicked your tongue.

"....Silly! We're a couple now!"

"HAHAH—wait—you're not joking?? Are you?? No??"

"Do I look like I am?"

"Hah-hah, as in, you're serious-serious? [Y/N]??"

"Do I look like I'm not? Idiot of course I am! You want me to take it back?"

"Nonononono—" you tried your hardest not to cackle, "—I mean of course I do, but—ah! Stupid mouth! Uhm—well—if that's the case then why should I decline when I really like you for—for a long time now!"

"I'm going to pretend to be shocked. But I—I like you too.. I was just waiting for, uhm, you, to, uhm, confess to me, but that sounds so unlikely.. So, thank you for staring?"

He stared at you eagerly.

"Darn it, that wasn't cool! Nonono—you know what I mean, don't you...? You stared at me, and I wanted to kiss you, and then we're here.. And and—"

"I love you!"

Matsuda hugged you tighter as you became stiff and red with what he just uttered. It's either you move and explode or you don't, so you didn't.

I love you ...

He loves you. And he means it.

You squeezed your eyes shut and bit your lower lip, though unable to restrain a smile.

You cleared your throat.

"M-Matsu... Do you want to stay the night here?"

"Oh, no! Actually.. I should be heading home by now. I've got work to do tomorrow morning."

"Awh bummer I forgot.. Well, let me assist you back there."

"Thank you. I'll.. I'll visit you more often, I promise! Ah—ahem! It's one of my duties now that I'm your boyfriend.." He rubbed his nape, shy in proclaiming. You blushed.

"Hey, but you can't just disappear from your work otherwise the chief will beat your ass. Besides, you're a baby! Can't have a baby constantly slacking off his work, can we?"

"Hey! I am a tough police officer! I'm far from being a baby like you!"

"Ohohoho look who's whining like one!"

"I—If you keep saying that I really won't visit you!"

"Fine with me. I'll just find others to hang out with."

His sulky pout fueled your eruption of cackling. You put your head on his shoulder and wrapped your arms around his waist from the side.

"I'm only kidding! Of course I only have my eyes set on you!"

"That better be true.. or I will arrest that man trying to steal my girl." He squished your cheeks. "Oh, and that reminds me—I have something to say to you.."

"I bet on my life it's gonna be one of those pickup lines.."

"No no this is a good one, promise! Ehem. Are you a cr—"

"DON'T! I just know what you're going to say! No no no!"

"I haven't even s—"

"I heard that pickup line way to many times already! Don't you dare!"

Matsuda sighed. "At least I tried.. I just wanted to make you smile.."

You shifted behind him, back-hugging him and patting his tummy as you rested your chin on his shoulder.

"There is no need for that when just seeing you can already make me smile.."

Matsuda grinned, placing his hands above yours.

"I didn't know [Y/N] was so cheesy."

"H-Hey! At least it's not as bad as that 'are you a criminal cause you stole my heart' thingy you were going to say!" You protested. He laughed loudly as a response. "Psh. Time to go home now, officer."

"Uh...?" He looked back at you and your position.

"Go go go."

Still confused, he started walking through the backdoor, with you never letting him go. It was not an ideal position, and when he passed by your parents in the living room to bid them goodbye, they only snorted, unable to believe your clinginess.

Once you two were near the front door, you let go of him.

"Goodnight Touta. Please be safe on your way home. Text me as soon as you get home, okay?"

He opened the door, nodding. "Don't worry [Y/N], I will. Although.. I might be safer if you give me a lucky charm."

"What lucky charm?"

He pointed his cheeks. "...Here, please?"

"Aw I thought you'd never ask!" You leaned closer to peck his right cheek. But instead of his cheek, it was his lips that you kissed. Matsuda had turned his face a millisecond just before your lips could press his cheek. You couldn't help but smile in the kiss. He was, too. Eventually you two pulled away, with triumph written all over his face.

"Touta.. You.."

"Ahaha... Is that the time? Oh, byebye [Y/N]! Thank you for the lucky charm. Goodnight, dream a little dream of me!"

He kissed your cheek before leaving your house, looking back every now and then as he walked away, and still waving goodbye to you. You smiled and shamelessly threw flying kisses at him.

You closed the door once he was out of sight, leaning your back against it dreamily. You thought, that night couldn't get any better. You glanced to the right, your parents whose eyeballs looked like it would come out of its sockets greeting you. You laughed and shook your head before they could say anything, and then headed to your room.

And maybe you did dream a little dream of him that night...

[hiccstrxd]

Heaven is you

This was an idea i had for Rayla's birthday and the outline seemed too wholesome to not do it lol. It has family feels and rayllum being soft as always. Read it on ao3.

Summary: Rayla always remembers her past birthdays with fondness. But this one in particular has brought her an abundant amount of joy, filling her heart with the purest of loves.

Or a recollection of Rayla’s birthdays through the years.

i.

Rayla always remembers her past birthdays with fondness.

She recalls being four and waking up to her mum’s soft voice in her ear, a happy birthday, my love being lovingly murmured in the air. She would pretend that she was asleep, cracking one eye open from time to time and doing her best to contain in her laughter as her mother would start to rub her hair soothingly to wake her up. But she would burst into a fit of giggles before her mum could say anything else — even though Rayla is pretty sure she saw past her flimsy excuse of a stoic facade — and her mother would start to laugh alongside her, tickling her belly and asking her when has her little moonbeam gotten this sneaky.

She hadn’t, obviously.

She’d scoop her in her arms and they would go downstairs where her dad would be cooking her favorite breakfast — he’d always go all out when it was her birthday. And he’d see them still laughing as they approached, he’d see them — his two favorite people ever — and he’d come up to them, lifting her in his arms and making her laugh, telling her that today she chose what they would do because today was all hers. Because he’d move earth and sky for his tiny warrior.

And she remembers the glimmer in her mum’s eyes, her father’s beaming smile, her own expression mirroring theirs; she remembers feeling loved, safe, and content.

ii.

Rayla recalls being eleven and coming back after nearly an entire day of training to a cake on the dining table, a sole candle lit on its center, and a neatly folded paper resting beside it. It was rather late, her whole body ached as the practice had been a vigorous one, but upon seeing the homemade gateau she no longer felt the ever consuming exhaustion. No, she felt lighter, more at ease.

Ethari had been sporting the warmest of smiles, his eyes showing every bit of love towards his foster daughter who they had come to care for as their own. Runaan had walked over to where his husband was and stood right next to him, somehow matching his emotion almost instantly — he had been sort of tense before leaving the meadow — and they had wished her the happiest of birthdays, holding her tightly in their embrace, muttering words of comfort and pride and love.

She remembers thinking that there was still a void in her heart as the aftermath of her parents’ absence, but being there surrounded by her two guardians that loved her an abundant amount and whom she loved as much in return, that showed her day after day their support and their care was enough to bring her solace.

She had felt love all the same.

And she always looked forward to reading her parents’ letter at the end of the end. The words were like a warm hug from afar. She became misty-eyed and held the letter close to her heart for hours as if she was keeping her parents in a safe place near her heart.

iii.

She recalls being sixteen and sitting alone in the Xadian forest. She had been wounded and restless, tired and alone. Everywhere and everything hurt, but ironically she had felt numb from head to toe. Somewhere in the back of her mind she vaguely remembered what that day was supposed to be.

And the bittersweet afterthought made matters worse because then the pang in her chest was just a little too hard to ignore.

Rayla had felt cold and empty, being alone with her thoughts was as harmful as it sounded and the unbecoming urge to cry was getting hard to suppress. But she ended up shedding tears, letting them fall freely as they have been welling up and contained in since much too long ago.

It was her birthday, and she had tried to forget it, making herself not feel, perhaps then the pain would subdue.

It hadn’t.

iv.

It was her birthday and she couldn’t get the royal physician’s words out of her head. They were spinning, echoing, repeating themselves. And she felt equal amounts of excitement and trepidation all at once.

Congratulations Your Highness, you’re with child.

They have been trying, of course, they have, so the news shouldn’t be such a surprise to hear that their efforts had actually turned out fructiferous. But they have, and she didn’t know how to assimilate them without cutting the appointment short and leaving a very confused physician behind, one who was patiently waiting for a reaction out of her.

Because she was excited and elated and so beyond happy that it was taking a lot of willpower to remain seated and not run off to find Callum.

“Your Highness? Is everything all right?”

She blinked, “Of course.” Rayla offered them a smile. How could it not be, honestly?

And after a couple of recommendations and how they’d like to see her in the span of a few weeks — after all, the babe was still a halfling and the pregnancy was to be monitored constantly for that matter — they bid her goodbye with another well-meaning congratulation on the way.

Rayla couldn’t help the fast pace in which she was walking nor the beaming smile from breaking out.

“Oh, there you are! I’ve been looking nonstop for you. What did the physician say?” She heard Callum’s voice round the corner; the worried tone of her husband of three years was enough to make her smile deepened because he was just the sweetest person ever and she just knows that he’s going to be the best father out there.

And the mere thought was enough to make her heart burst with adoration.

He took a couple of steps forward and placed one hand on her cheek, gently rubbing his thumb back and forth, “Are you all right?”

“I’m pregnant.”

The words left her mouth before she had time to catch herself, before she had any time to dwell on how to tell him, but after they were out, she knows that there was no better way, no better time. Because seeing those expressive, loving eyes widen in realization, going through every emotion in the span of a second, how his hand stilled its movement on her cheek and how she heard his breath catch in his throat was as heartwarming as if she’d had outlined a grander plan in advance to break the big news to him.

“Really?” He whispered, barely audible.

She hummed.

“You are pregnant?”

She hummed again.

“There’ll be a tiny, perfect mix of the both of us in a couple of months?”

Rayla nodded unable to keep the grin off her face, her arms coming upwards to lace them loosely around his neck and raising herself on her tiptoes to breath small kisses across his cheek — damn those two inches he had gained on her. Their chests were pressed together, and she felt the deep rumble in his chest that soon turned into a peal of boisterous laughter that surely could be heard through the entire hallway. The sound was too contagious to not let out one of her own.

His arms came to encircle her waist, engulfing her in a tight hug, both of them shaking with laughter and happiness and pure delight.

“We’re having a baby.”

“We are.”

They pulled back slightly, faces inches away from each other’s, noses brushing against one another, breaths mingling in their shared space. She wanted to capture this blissful moment in a picture.

And then his lips slowly curved into a smug grin.

“Don’t.” Rayla raised a single brow, looking pointedly at him because she knew where his mind had headed in a matter of seconds. And because she also remembers rather vividly exactly what he had thought about — it had been a very nice anniversary gift, after all. It had carried the promise of fervent love, a burning passion, and a couple’s desire of at last starting a family.

He let out an amused laugh, “I didn’t even say anything!”

“You didn’t have to, I practically saw you thinking about it!” She rolled her eyes playfully and crossed her arms over her chest, letting out a huff in faux disbelief at her husband’s antics. They locked gazes, grass green meeting amethyst violet, a glimmer in both of them. They couldn’t help the small laugh thereafter.

His eyes softened as the laughter ceased, pulling her closer by the waist and planting one tender kiss on the lips, feeling all the love conveyed in such a small action and trying to reciprocate as much as she was receiving.

“I love you.” She said lovingly when they parted, her hands coming up to cup his jaw in a light grasp.

He brought one hand to his lips, kissing the underside softly, “I adore you.”

Rayla knows that it wouldn’t be easy, parenting — motherhood— never was as the rising self-doubts, the exhaustion of both mind and body, the anxiety of diving into the unknown, and all the possible mistakes that were bound to be made. But, she thinks, as long as they have each other — and everyone else who has been there for that matter — this baby would be raised with abundant love and affection. She'd make sure of it.

It was superfluous to say that this birthday by far had brought her one of her greatest joys. A surprise that couldn’t be topped by any other.

[ginisbetterthanfirewhisky]

What Goes Around Comes Around

A HBP missing moment...

View the story on FF

View the story on SIYE

Harry woke up exceptionally early on the morning of 30th April, taking an obnoxiously long time (according to Ron and Seamus) in the shower, and taking particular care to flatten his hair. After Dean, Seamus and Neville went down to breakfast, Harry persuaded Ron to go on before him as it would take time. Ron threw a maddeningly Hermione-ish smug and meaningful look to Harry before he left. The mirror yawned. ‘Aren’t you finished yet? You’ve been standing here trying to comb your hair for over half an hour. It isn’t going to work, young man. Anyway, it looks like you’re planning to ask someone out. If you are, then that girl has probably always seen you in your unruly hair. Wasting your time like this won't help,’ it finished shrewdly. Harry felt a flush creeping up his neck. ‘I am not going to ask someone out!’ he said, worrying if he was being that obvious. ‘Oh, don’t lie,’ it said airily. ‘I recognize the signs. Your father and his cronies used to stay in this dormitory too, you know.’ Knowing it was useless trying to argue and flatten his messy hair, Harry gave up. It didn’t matter anyway, because his hair would soon stick out in all directions. Feeling incredibly self-conscious, and making a mental note that it was now or never, Harry walked out of the dormitory and the common room and headed towards the Great Hall. As he walked down the stairs, however, he bumped right into Nearly Headless Nick, and felt the familiar unpleasant feeling of being doused in a bucket of ice-cold water. Nick was looking very cheerful. ‘Good morning, Harry!’ he said jovially. ‘Hey, Nick. How are you?’ ‘Good, good,’ he boomed, in a rather Slughorn-ish fashion. ‘How are you, Harry? Haven’t seen you since that night near Gryffindor tower! Do you know that the Headless Hunt has finally agreed to take me in?’ ‘Oh, great,’ said Harry absentmindedly, scanning the Great Hall for a trace of flaming red hair. To his surprise, Nick chuckled. ‘Trying to ask some young lady out, aren’t you,’ he said to Harry’s utter horror. First that nosy mirror and now Nick? Why was everyone suddenly becoming annoyingly like Hermione? ‘I remember the old days… when I was trying to woo the beautiful Lady Constance Cummington,’ he sighed, looking ahead wistfully, ignoring the look on Harry's face. ‘Er… Nick, I am somewhat in a hurry, so…’ ‘Alright, alright, you can go on,’ said Nick vaguely, looking misty-eyed, and lost in his long reminiscence, still muttering things like “Duke of Brian” and “traitor”. As he moved ahead, he once again bumped into someone else. A short, over-enthusiastic, camera-clutching someone. ‘Hiya Harry!’ said Colin brightly. ‘Please don’t tell me I look like I want to ask someone out too, Colin,’ he said warily. ‘Huh?’ asked Colin, looking confused. ‘Actually, I was just asking whether-‘ , Colin began. ‘Uh, Colin, I’m getting a bit late, talk to you later!’ Harry felt slightly guilty for sidestepping Colin like this, but nobility and politeness had to wait. He would ask Colin what it was later. He had business to do. Urgently. Ron and Hermione were already seated on the table when he finally arrived. Both looked amused at his impatient state as he took a seat on Ron’s right and eagerly scanned the Hall once again. So much for being discreet thought Harry. 'Looking for someone?' asked Hermione, following his gaze. 'Huh? Er.. no. Just looking... just like that...' he finished somewhat stupidly. Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry helped himself to some pumpkin juice to calm his nerves. What was he going to do once he spotted Ginny? Just ask her if she would go out with him? What if she said no? Hermione had told him that she had given up on him ages ago. What if she didn't fancy him anymore? What if he ruined their friendship by asking her? 'Harry, can you hear me?' 'What?' asked Harry, turning to look at Ron. 'You-er-seemed a bit lost, mate.' 'Oh, erm, it's nothing... just-just thinking about the-umm- Horcruxes, yeah, the Horcruxes.' Harry knew very well that he was sounding extremely stupid, but he really could not help it. When Ginny did not arrive even after ten minutes or so, Harry threw caution to the winds. 'Umm.. Hermione... d'you know where Ginny is? I mean, she hasn't come down to breakfast yet... she usually isn't late...' he asked, trying and failing to sound nonchalant. 'Hmmm... well, maybe, she is with Justin Finch-Fletchley, you know... I overheard him telling Ernie that he really fancied her and was hoping to ask her out...' Harry choked on his pumpkin juice and didn't notice Hermione winking imperceptibly at Ron. 'What?!' 'Well, yes, but why are you so interested?' she asked, with the slightest hint of a smirk. Harry was saved from answering by a wonderfully familiar voice. 'Hey!' 'Hi!' Harry said automatically, turning around and literally pushing Ron so that he could make space for Ginny on his left. Ginny sat down, and helped herself to some toast and marmalade. What was he supposed to do now? Ron and Hermione were sitting right there... maybe he could ask her to a walk near the lake and... spontaneously kiss her? Should he stand up here right now and confess his undying love? Harry didn't realize he had actually half-risen from his seat until he heard Ron. 'What happened, Harry?' he asked with an amused note in his voice. 'Uh, no-nothing. I just- er- wanted some more juice,' he said, quickly taking the jug and pouring some juice into his glass so that no one would be able to see the blush forming on his face. He looked at Ginny out of the corner of his eye. She was looking really pretty, as she always did. She had tied her beautiful, long hair in a high pony and used an emerald green barrette clip to fasten them. Had he ever noticed how her hair turned hundreds of different shades during the day? Oh, well, he probably had, seeing that he had spent almost all Quidditch practices staring at her flaming hair. He heard Ron cough faintly and was recalled to his surroundings. None of his companions were talking, and Ron was looking at him with an half-amused, half-incredulous expression. Ron and Hermione then shared a look and grinned. Harry fervently hoped that the eye-catching was simply because they had sorted out their feelings for each other or something and were going off to find a nice, quiet broom cupboard, and not because they had noticed his obvious attraction towards Ginny. 'Come on, Ron,' said Hermione, taking Ron by the arm. 'You've finished breakfast, haven't you? You really have to complete that essay on Befuddlement Potions for Professor Slughorn.' To Harry's astonishment, Ron didn't argue and went up after Hermione. However, what astonished Harry even more was that Ron winked at him before going. Thinking it was only a trick of the light, he went back to wondering about how to ask Ginny out. Ginny broke the silence first. 'Have you heard about the recent development in the Holyhead Harpies team?' 'Why, what happened?' Ginny went off explaining Harry about their exchange players with Puddlemere United, and how this wouldn't be really good for the team. Harry heard her speak, admiring how her freckles highlighted her bright eyes, and breathing in the intoxicating flowery smell he had come to associate with Ginny. He vaguely registered feeling something wet in his elbow, and was shocked to see Ginny gripping his arm. Feeling goosebumps erupt in the arm which Ginny was holding, he looked at her. She was looking like she was suppressing a grin. 'Harry... you put your elbow in the butter dish...' Horrorstruck, Harry looked at his elbow, and sure enough, it was covered in butter, and hovering inches above the butter dish. Suddenly, Harry vividly remembered something very similar happening in the summer before his second year. Well, Karma had struck. He looked at Ginny once again, ignoring the blush creeping, once again, onto his face. She was smiling now, and suddenly, Harry wanted nothing more than to kiss her. Before he could act on that impulse, however, the bell rang loudly. 'See you later, Harry,' said Ginny, who was still smiling, but look slightly confused. Harry thought he saw a faint blush on her cheeks too.

*wrings hands nervously* How is it?