#if you hear screaming tonight dw

[sp4ceboo]

A/N: aaaaaand she's back (i had to get the hard thoughts out before i wrote a full length fic, i'm not sorry)

tw: 18+, smut (afab reader, fingering f recieving, piv sex, praise AND degrading ofc, angry sex, 1 spank, overstim, some dirty dirty talk icl, no protection oh dear), sometimes ken sato is a sad little meow meow but definitely not in this fic, they fuck in the basement but atp emi is on the island dw, tiniest weeniest bit of aftercare at the end

wc: 0.73k

kenji sato is seething.

tonight's game was one of the rare times when the giants had lost, and you can feel his frustration in the urgency with which he touches you, pushing you against the cool glass until your vision is filled with the sea outside, silver glimmers flashing in your eyes as fish dart by.

you can feel his frustration in the tension of his movements as he practically tears your clothes off you, and in the low grunt that sounds from behind you as he roughly yanks off his belt.

most of all, you feel his frustration in the way he runs his calloused hands over your skin, over your curves, grabbing handfuls as if to say this is still mine. i may have lost the game today, but i won this, i won her.

ken presses his hard chest to your back with the same fervor that he presses his mouth to the nape of your neck, tongue and teeth coasting over your skin. the glass is so frigid against your bare breasts that it's almost cutting, but you can't get away; he's right there behind you, raging, burning.

you'd be lying if you said you didn't like it.

there's something addictive in the harsh way he grips your hips, the way he sucks bruising hickeys onto your neck - a promise that he'll fuck you until the loss is no longer on his mind, until all he can think about is your sweet, sweet pussy.

you can't help the pitiful sound that leaves you when he kicks your legs apart, his long fingers giving you less than a second to regain your balance before he's shoving them knuckle deep into your cunt.

'so wet for me, huh?' he asks, and you can hear the lingering venom in his voice. 'such a dirty fucking slut, aren't you? turned on because i'm angry? want me to use you, hm?'

'y - yes, ah, yes i - '

the rest of whatever you were going to say dissolves into a moan, your eyes rolling back as ken pumps his fingers in and out of you fast. you scrabble against the glass for purchase, mouth agape, pleas on your lips. he's unrelenting, giving you so much all at once, giving you no time to adjust, but you know that's how he wants you: floundering, trembling, overwhelmed.

you can feel his fingers curling inside you, cataclysmically so. his thumb is bearing down on your clit, rubbing tight, agonising circles, over and over, and all at once it's enough to send you over and you're shattering into a million pieces, his name a broken cry on your lips.

'that's it,' he croons as you come. 'my good little slut.'

not even a moment later, you feel the nudge of the blunt head of his cock, and you whine, knees weak as you babble at him that you're not ready yet, knees weak as he sheathes himself inside your still spasming cunt. tears come to your eyes then, and his hand cracks down on your ass, your whole body jolting in reply.

'you take what i give you,' he growls in your ear.

'please,' you sob. 'take it out on me.'

at your words, ken groans, low and deep in your ear. you mewl at the drag of his cock against your walls, gasping when he presses your body harder against the icy cold glass, burying himself inside you again and again, his pace punishing.

taking a fistful of your hair, he yanks your head backwards, arching your back more for him as he pounds into you. tears slip down your face as the pleasure turns sharp, overstimulation rubbing your nerves raw as his deft fingers find your clit and set you on fire.

effortlessly, he brings you over the edge again, and you're screaming his name, pussy convulsing around his cock as you writhe in his arms. his thrusts become faster, until you're sure he might break you, and then suddenly he's spilling inside you.

you moan as his strokes finally peter out, resting your sweaty forehead against the glass and going limp. one hand on your waist, supporting you, ken pulls out and scoops you into his arms; you nuzzle into his chest, tucking your head under his chin, and he kisses your hair.

'feeling better now?' you ask.

he laughs. 'of course. you take me so well, baby.'

[dellalyra]

you putting “megumi needs his mom rn” in the cw makes me wonder how he and the family reacted to yuuji dying after the detention center mission (and also what was the reaction to him coming back since i’m assuming gojo told reader before they revealed it to everyone else)

Family Formations - Part Eleven

Summary: Deja vu visits you when your son loses his best friend.

Warning: swearing, angst, acc kinda soft too, mourning, mentions of blood and vomiting, canon typical violence, MDNI

A/N: I had already started this fic when this request came through so loving the telepathy going on here. Also. This is sad. I’m sorry. I’ll make it worth it dw dw.

Recommended Listening:

Daylight - David Kushner

No Surprises - Radiohead

Ghost of You - 5 Seconds of Summer

Sparks - Coldplay

Your doorbell chimed, glancing at the clock hanging above the fireplace from you’d spot on the sofa, 8 pm? Satoru wasn’t due home until 9 pm plus - he just warped inside your home. Did he order your flowers again? You check the baby monitor and see your 4-month-old is still sound asleep in his crib.

Walking up to the door, you sensed a very familiar cursed energy. Megumi? What’s he doing here, it’s Wednesday.

You could hear the rain and thunder pouring and hitting your windows in waves.

You open the door, and you see nothing.

A whimper emanates from beside you, and on the ground – slumped against the doorway is your eldest boy.

You fall on your knees beside him.

“Megumi! Baby, what’s going on? You’re going to catch a cold.” You brush his hair out of his face, and you are stricken with the realisation that he is crying. His angular face is so devoid of any emotion, but the tears scream otherwise. You could count the number of times you’ve seen him cry in 10 years on one hand and you hadn’t been prepared for this tonight.

“Jesus, baby what’s going on?” You try to heave him up from the ground and he’s as limp as a rag doll as you try to guide him inside the door. The hallway is as far as you can manage his weight before you give in and shut the door to the outside world. He’s now just leaned against your sage green wall, if he wasn’t breathing, you’d think he was comatose.

Only now do you realise he’s bleeding. His lip is busted, and his eyebrow is too. But what type of curse would elicit this reaction?

“Megumi? Honey? Talk to me - what’s happened?” You kneel beside him, one hand on his shoulder, the other on the top of his head.

Empty eyes, now a dull blue, look up at you through lashes soaked with rain and tears.

“He’s dead.” The tiniest voice, again, void of emotions.

Satoru? No – you had been on the phone with him 20 minutes ago.

“He killed him.” His eyes are facing you – but they’re looking straight through you.

“Who’s dead, Megumi?” You probe – anxiety gripping your stomach like a vice.

“Sukuna – ripped his heart out. In front of me. Just ripped it out. His heart. He’s dead.” The words are barely intelligible in the mumbles that come from his out and you’re still as confused, Sukuna? How could- oh my god Yuuji is dead.

Yuuji Itadori.

Dead.

“Oh my god – fuck. Megumi, my sweet boy.” At this point, he turned to you.

He looked into your eyes.

He turned his head and vomited on the floor beside him.

You pull him into you, tears flooding your face as you think about that sweet, sweet boy – a soul too good for this world so brutally ripped out of it.

You wipe his mouth on your sweater sleeve and once again haul him up into your grasp he almost falls but you pull on every muscle fibre you had – you needed to get him dry and cleaned up.

A memory played in your mind, a sense of déjà vu – Satoru vomiting and sobbing and you shaking with tears curled up together – the loss of another best friend. The fates were cruel masters to make you relive this scene again.

Once he was up the stairs you lay him on his bed. Where he just sat on the edge, legs still on the ground and stared at his shoes. He went to vomit again, and this time you caught it with a bucket you’d retrieved from the closet.

“I need to get a cloth. I’ll be right back.” He didn’t acknowledge this. You just needed a moment to gather yourself before you went back in - you’d be no good to him if you continue to try to help in the state you're in, a mess of shock and grief and anger. White hot anger.

You shut the en suite door of his room behind you, and you rush to the toilet and heave up all of your remaining food at the mental image of that darling boy laying cold and dead and gutted on the ground.

You give yourself a moment – your son and you breathe so that you can deal with everything later – wait, does Satoru know?

Grabbing a cloth – you go into the room, laying the cloth down for a moment, you go into your and Satoru’s room and grab one of his sweatshirts. In Megumi’s room, you pull sweatpants from his wardrobe and look at your son. He’s dripping rainwater onto the carpet and there’s blood from his injuries mingling, tinging it pink.

You think some of the puddles might be tears, his or your own, you don’t know.

You stand in front of him, remembering the times when you’d do this to help him into his frog pyjamas - he was only 6 back then – 16 now and 5ft 9 – almost a whole foot taller than you. You lift his arms and unzip his jacket – his T-shirt underneath is soaked through too. You peel them both from him and check for cuts on his torso – bruises, old and fresh – but no blood.

You pull Satoru’s sweatshirt over his head, and he doesn’t even seem to notice that you’re moving him. He’s just limp in your arms, and you swear to anyone who’s listening to if you could take that pain and shoulder, it yourself then you would.

You peel his slacks down, pulling his sweatpants (a Christmas present from your brother) onto his lanky legs you tuck his hair behind his ears and dry it with a cloth. You then dab at his bleeding wounds, they’re clotting now, and the bleeding is stopping.

You throw the cloth away to the far side of the room.

He’s seen enough blood for today.

Tears are flowing freely from you both as you sit beside him on the edge of the bed.

Your proximity must trigger him back to this plane of existence and he looks at you.

“I couldn’t save him.”

“I know sweet boy, but it’s not your fault. You did everything you could.”

“It was a special grade – he, the curse had a finger. Our mission didn’t say any of that.”

“A special grade? Was Satoru there?” He couldn’t have been, he was in Osaka today.

“No. Just me and Kugisaki and Itadori.” His voice quavers.

You knew exactly what happened. It was clear from even the bare minimum you had heard.

But – now was not the time. Willing yourself to push the thoughts aside. Megumi doesn’t need that right now.

“You did everything you could, ‘Gumi. There was nothing you could have done.”

This was his kryptonite. A heavy, choked sob broke through the air and his body collapsed onto you.

“His heart – he ripped it out. He was right there and he just – momma, he’s dead. I couldn’t save him, Momma.” You broke down, sobbing yourself, cradling this boy – this poor broken boy, into your chest as you hugged him so tight you could feel every shake of his body in your own. You carefully moved. you both so you could sit against his headboard with his sobbing head laid on your stomach.

You are so grateful that Akio is a heavy-sleeping baby because you need to focus on your oldest son now. He needed you, and you were his to protect him, 100%.

You stroke his hair and whisper placating nothing into his ear. Nothing will fix this. Nothing will make it easier or make it feel better. You just need to be here; you just need to hold him now. You can tell him until the cows come home that he did all he could, he couldn’t have stopped Sukuna, that it was not his fault – but all these worlds will refuse to sink in until he’s ready to hear them. Yet, you tell him anyway. Over and over again.

You’ve no idea how much time passes. Your tears mingle with the lingering water on the side of his head as you cry with him but eventually, the sobs turn into heavy breaths, and you realise he’s passed out. Sheer exhaustion has taken his body hostage and for a second, you’re put at peace knowing at least right now – his mind will be quiet.

You slip your phone from your pocket, without moving or disturbing the boy on your lap.

‘Please call me.’ A message from Satoru.

You ring him.

The phone barely dials once before you hear his voice – hoarse.

“Y/N. I –”

“I know ‘Toru. Megumi came home.”

“I’m sorry. I wasn’t there.” He sounds so broken.

“You have no reason to be sorry baby, we both know how this managed to come to pass.” You hated that he always still felt the weight of the whole world on his shoulders.

“I’ll kill them all.” He says, and you know he’s serious.

“You could, but you won’t. Maybe 10 years ago – maybe then we’d have done it together. But not now, not anymore.” You reply, voice still thick with tears.

There’s silence.

“Where are you, ‘Toru?”

“The morgue.”

“Shoko?”

“On her way in.”

“I can’t leave the boys.”

“I’ll be home soon.”

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

He hangs up the phone. Nothing more needs to be said. These feelings are sadly all too familiar to you both. You realise Shoko will have to do the autopsy.

She delivered Akio 4 months ago. Now she’d be cutting up the corpse of the boy who waited outside of the labour ward for 16 hours.

You lean your head back – closing your eyes. Flashes of a pink head tossing back in laughter and strong arms hugging you in thanks, of meatballs served to you as you nurse your newborn and the Spider-Man lamp being plugged in making you smile at the giddy teenager. The faces change, now they’re old and wrinkled and whisper words with serpentine tongues laced with deceit and heartlessness in their actions. They knew what they were doing. Satoru wasn’t in Osaka for no reason. They knew.

They all fucking knew.

They sent him to his death, knowingly and intentionally. They sent three children into a trap all because they are scared. Cowards who hide behind words of ‘the good of society’ and the guise of ‘the greater good’. Satoru and you had screamed and pushed and threatened to stay the execution, but they found a loophole anyway.

They risked Megumi and Nobara – did they think you wouldn’t piece together the big picture? Did they think that you wouldn’t realise?

You don’t know how long you sat there but your phone buzzed again.

📲Satoruuuuu is Calling… ✅⛔️

You pick up.

“He’s alive.”

“What?”

“He’s alive. Yuuji’s alive. Sukuna woke him up…” There are so many tones in his voice and so many thoughts in your head you have to close your eyes.

“Are you sure?”

“Well - he’s talking and walking so unless The Last of Us was accurate then…” he attempts a joke – relief clear in his voice.

You softly lift the head from your lap, and place it on the navy pillow. He doesn’t stir.

You walk out into your room, sitting on the balcony – the air was what you needed.

“I don’t know what to say.” That is all you can manage.

The torrent of emotions your mind went through was making you so dizzy you sat on the wooden chair looking at the sky.

“He’s not safe here, they’re going to come for him.” Satoru’s voice comes, quiet through the phone.

“What will we do?” You say.

“He needs time, he needs to train and learn to manipulate and use his cursed energy. If he can protect himself…” Satoru begins.

“We need to hide him. He can’t stay at school or come here.” Your sorcerer’s brain was switched on now.

“I can’t bring him to the Gojo estate either, the elders the family visit too much.” He speaks.

Lightbulb.

“They visit your family… but they’d never think to visit mine. Satoru, bring him to my mom’s. I’ll call her, you can train him there every day, and if we’re being watched it’s not suspicious to visit our own family. She’ll take care of him.” You say, you knew that your family would protect this boy with their lives, he was family to Megumi, family to you.

“Y/N… we can’t tell anyone. The only people who know are me, you, Shoko and Ijichi.” He says, and your heart stops.

You’ll have to lie to Megumi.

“Fuck. It’s too dangerous for him to know – if they catch wind of this, and they find out he knows…” you say.

“He’ll be branded a traitor. Who knows what they’d do for information.”

“He’s going to hate us.”

“He’ll understand. He’s a smart kid.”

“Come home to me, to us – ‘toru. Bring him to my parents and then please come home.” You whisper to him.

He agrees and tells you he loves you.

The weeks fly by as you feel yourself crumbling from the weight of the sadness spilling from your son, Kugisaki isn’t much better and Satoru is still reeling from the elder’s deceit. You stormed to the council meeting the following day and threatened to burn the place to the ground if they so much as considered harming a hair on the head of the other kids.

“Unfortunate circumstances occur on missions. Nobody knows the outcome of these situations.” They fought.

“Oh – you knew the outcome of this one. You knew full well. All of you, every single one of you knew and you allowed it. In legal terms, that’s murder. You’re all sociopaths and whatever awaits you in the next world, I hope it hurts even a fraction of the pain you’ve all caused. Endanger my family again, and I’ll deal with you all personally – never mind Satoru.”

The training was going well – you had gone to your mother’s house two days after his resurrection, after the water cooled and you were sure you weren’t being surveilled.

You had run to Yuuji, running your eyes and hands over every bit of him, checking for wounds and crying into his shoulder. He had died, and somehow you were being comforted by him.

Satoru and you explained the situation, taking turns to train with him. They came up with a ridiculous idea of Yuuji playing Jack in the Box at the exchange event all you could do was allow it.

Back home – you explained to Megumi that the mission had been a nefarious plot concocted by the elders and higher ups to get rid of Yuuji, since you and your husband kept getting in the way – they took the opportunity of your maternity leave to send Gojo to Osaka and place the kids in the path of a Special Grade Curse. You hoped being armed with this information would help him understand why you and Satoru had lied to him, and allowed him to grieve. It hurt you, but his safety was paramount.

When the day came and Yuuji was released, you stood beside Megumi as he and Nobara watched him return from the dead. Jaws hanging open, they couldn’t tear their eyes from their friend.

Reunions and rejoicing complete, you and Satoru pulled Megumi by the sleeve away from the scene, into your classroom.

When the door shut, you began to sob.

“‘Gumi, I’m so sorry. We didn’t have any choice but to keep it a secret. It –” Satoru wraps you into his chest.

“We had to keep it secret, because they would have killed anyone involved if they found out, kiddo. We had to keep you safe.” He says hand on Megumi’s shoulder and a crying wife clinging to him.

“It’s okay.” Megumi shrugs.

You freeze, you thought he’d never forgive you.

“What?” You and Satoru say in unison.

“I get why you did it. Thank you, guys, – for helping him, and uh – for protecting us all.” He says and God this boy will never fail to amaze you. His maturity was something you and Satoru could only have dreamed of at his age and even rarer was hearing such genuine praise from him – he was softer with you, but this was directed to you both.

Wordlessly, you and Satoru wrapped him in your arms and he begrudgingly and awkwardly reciprocated the affection.

Over his head, you looked at your husband. His crystalline eyes filled with relief and love for you and your patchwork family, and you pressed a soft kiss to his lips – a silent thank you for everything you do. The road was never easy, but God was it worth it.

TAGLIST: @vesta-ro @lilithlunas @mialexandruh @sassy-cat-in-town @madam-ri @cjm-cookiethief

[sydneyadamuhusband]

Was writing my fanfic and then suddenly, a angst one-sided sydrichie popped up in my mind so here's a quick, probably shitty, very angsty sydrichie fit about richie being in love with Sydney

Change | Sydrichie

angst, one-sided, unrequited, mentions of death, also light misogyny kinda? (dw it's not that bad)

Summary: Richie hates change, never has, probably never will. There is one thing he wished he could change though.

words: 2,118

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Richie Jerimovich still wears his ring. He wears it because he doesn’t like change. Never did. Probably never will. Because the times he did, it never ended well. 

He was the shit in his 20s, constant girls left from right. Him and Mikey were just full of adventures with girls that they barely remembered the name of. Bar hopping. Snagging beautiful women’s numbers. Sneaking Carmy into college for brownie points with some sorority chicks.

“Yeah, he’s like my little kid brother. He had nowhere else to go tonight and he hates being alone.” Cue the ‘awe’ and ‘you’re so sweet’.

Cut to him waking up in some chick’s bed and praying that Carmy didn’t drink or take anything cause him and Mikey were already pissing mama bird off.

“Stop taking him to your little parties, fuckhead.” Donna would say, “He’s a baby ok? So no trouble.” She’d make him and Mikey promise all the time that they wouldn’t.

Mikey was the first thing Richie had broken a pattern with. 

Richie used to be a shy little kid in third grade, not talkative, not really social either. He didn’t change it, didn’t want to. Just like last year, he was planning to sit by himself. But then this other kid, a real loud one, sees him points at him and beckons him over. 

And Richie breaks the pattern and goes over to him and changes. It was just them, together since. It was static, unbreakable and just plain perfect. 

Him and Mikey, it was always him and Mikey.

They were always getting into shit cause that’s just what they’d do. Their pattern, their cycle. It followed them into adulthood. Same bars, same shitty restaurant, sometimes same girls. They’d say they won’t get attached to one.

“Mo bitches mo problems.” Richie would say, stumbling into the Berzatto’s house with Mikey drunk.

And Mikey would agree, clinging onto him with the smell of cigarettes and beer. “Mo bitches, mo problems.”

And of course, a little disappointed Natalie who was the one who opened the door for them. “You guys are gross.” 

Richie remembers when did it again, broke a pattern and changed. His brain won’t let it go, especially when he got the evidence tethered to his finger.

Him and Mikey were getting wasted and screaming some random lyrics in this sleazy bar downtown. The lights were low and the air was thick with beer and sweet. Their arms were tight around on another, squeezing each other as they belted. 

As they swung each other, mic in hand, Richie’s eyes landed on her. 

Blonde hair, sweet big eyes and a sweet smile. She was sitting on the bar side, an empty glass with a lemon on the rim in hand and curious eyes on them. She looked amused, a little concerned but definitely entertained.

Then the music stopped, but the rush, the excitement, that pounding in his heart didn’t. He sat by her, almost falling off his chair with Mikey slung around his shoulders, laughing in his ear. But he couldn’t hear the incoherent drunk jokes Mikey was saying, he was too focused on her.

“Hi.” He was pretty sure his voice was slurred, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Hi.” She said back. “You guys sounded amazing up there.”

“Oh really?”

“Mhm, I’m impressed.” She swirls the ice in her glass with her little black straw, “It was horrible but I'm impressed by you guy’s confidence.” Richie laughs, charmed. 

And they talked and talked for what felt like hours until the bar chatter died and Mikey’s laughs quiet down into soft snoring. The bar closed and with Mikey’s sleeping body slobbering on his shoulder, he got her number. 

He remembers so vividly, hauling Mikey into the car and Tiffany giving him a small little smile before getting into her cab. That night he thought about her in a daze. Still though, fear swelled in the back of his mind. This wasn’t what he usually felt when finding some chick to mess around with. This was something new, something different, a change.

They went on a date, then another, then another. Then the rest of history.  

Beautiful history.

Painful history.

The type that keeps Richie up at night. History he wears on his finger.

They got engaged when she was three months pregnant with Eva, all sick and green and tired. Richie looked at her with her eye bags, messy hair, laying on the bed with cramps and a bad temper and said ‘Yeah, I'm gonna marry her. I’m going to commit to this change.”

 He wanted to see this. Wanted to wake up next to her in bed with their baby and not some chick he found the night before.

They got married after Eva’s birth, the wedding was amazing. Felt unreal, looking at her in an all white dress, their baby being rocked gently by Donna, surrounded by who felt like family practically. Richie had that, Richie had them.

All because of change, good change.

Mikey, his first voluntary change, is on the mic.“If you told me that Richie, the mother fuckin’ player was going to be tied down one day? I would told you to fuck off.” 

Younger Richie would’ve probably done the same too. Would’ve probably laughed straight into the face of whoever was telling him that.

“Yo bro listen to me,” He would probably say, grabbing at whoever’s shoulder. “mo bitches, mo problems.”

“But here we are huh? Richard Jerimovich.” Mikey raises a glass. “My best friend, my partner in crime. - “damn right” Donna cuts in - Marrying and settling down, having a beautiful wife and family. I'm proud of you man.”

Mikey passed away five months ago now. 

But Richie still feels his presence. Still texts him mundane things like “Yo cousin we need to get some more beef” or sends him reels.

Richie and Tiff divorced when Eva was 2. Three years ago. 

But Richie still wears the ring. 

He doesn’t know why, maybe it’s just a habits he can’t break. Patterns he doesn’t want to change.

He notices the glances from everyone. Noticed the glances he got from Mikey two months after the divorce. The way his eyebrows would furrow and he’d look at him with pity before going back to work. Richie takes it off anytime he meets up with Eva on the off chance that Tiff is there. He doesn’t want to see her reaction. And he notices Sydney’s curious eyes on it when she passes him sometimes.

“If you are going to say ‘can i ask?’ don’t.”

And Sydney doesn’t say anything but nods like she gets it. But she really doesn't.

If she did, she wouldn’t be doing this brand new shit. She’s fucking up his ecosystem, changing what made this place the was it was. Making new expensive dishes and adding some weird hipster shit, it’s fucking their place up.

She’s so determined to do it too, like actively going against him to ruin this. She’s so determined to make things the way she sees fit. With her stern brown eyes and her smartass mouth. She turns corners so sharply like she owns the place, her braids whip the air like they’re even snapping at people. And that stupid look she gives him everytime he says something like he isn’t making sense. 

She makes his blood boil.

Her presence is always there, he can always see her out of the corner of his eye. He can smell her, the mix of hair products and cocoa butter smothers him each time she passes by with a small “behind” or “corner”. 

She’s just always there making her presence known. Even down to the music suddenly cutting off that’s followed by rhythmic pounding in his heart cause now he knows her presence is there. Pounding out of anger of course, and frustration. 

He could scream at her until he’s blue in the fucking face and she still wouldn’t get it. 

She doesn’t get it, this place shouldn’t be running the way it fucking is.

And Richie hates it cause the restaurant is going great. The kitchen’s clean, everybody’s getting work done a lot faster than they had before. And her new little system with Carmy is working out perfectly. But it always starts of good, then fucking fails, always does. 

He plays with his ring.

Not even Tina will back him up. 

And it’s all because of fucking Sydney and her stupid little notebook and big brown eyes and little bandanas and her scent. Everything about her is just in his mind and blurs everything out in his brain. 

Sometimes he can't hear Tina’s little jokes or Carmy’s commands. Cause his mind is too focused on Sydney and how she shouldn’t be carrying that big ass box of shit or how her apron is a bit slanted, or her bandana is coming loose. And imaging getting the box for her, helping her fix the apron or tying her bandana properly.

And he keeps noticing her small little emotions and body language. From the way her pace gets faster when she's frustrated to the way her eyes almost burst out of her skull when she’s yelling (most likely at him) Richie notices everything.

It was to the point that Tina tells him, “Don’t Richie.”

“Don’t what?”

“You know what.” Tina nods over at Sydney who’s checking things off on her stupid little notebook that has stickers on it.

Oh her and that stupid fucking notepad always writing things down. He realized pretty quickly it was her ripping pages out of that notepad and sticking them to walls and shit reminding them to do things with stupid little smiles and neat handwriting. 

“Hey she’s always the one starting shit.”

“Not what I meant.”

And–

Oh

Richie got it now.

He gives the quickest glance at Sydney, she is still writing down something in her notepad, nibbles on her pen too. And Richie knows that she does that alot when she’s trying to come up with something.

He stutters. “Oh come on Tina, she’s practically a kid!’

“Exactly Richie.” Tina grabs a knife.”Don’t.” And she turns around and passes Sydney. She says behind as she does and Sydney briefly looks up at her and smiles warmly.

And that’s fucking mind boggling. Tina being all up on Sydney’s side like some mother hawk and accusing him of that.

And Richie still wears his ring, Tina should know he wouldn’t– Richie shakes it off and walks away. It didn’t matter. Because he didn’t like Sydney anyway. Not even in a friendly way. Everyone knows that.

He just notices things about her cause she makes herself so obvious to everyone, that’s what Sydney fucking does. She likes to do the small things that make people notice her, she likes to stay in people’s minds and she likes to stay in Richie’s mind.

She does this shit on purpose, she got mind games, Richie swears on it. Changing the restaurant. Changing his brain. Changing everything. 

Richie doesn’t like change, never has. Probably never will. He changed his seat in third grade, left him with a dead friend and a fuckton of debt. He changed his dating pattern. Left him divorced with this fucking ring he just cant take off. Change doesn’t do him any good cause things don’t stay good. 

And now they have a big new change, Sydney. She changed the restaurant, the staff, the kitchen, even him.

She’s in his brain, lingering there at night at rewinding in his head. Her laugh echoes in his brain and her smile is imprinted behind his eyelids like some tattoo. He can't get her off his mind and he's scared that he doesn’t really want to.

He wants to see her smile at him and wants to make her laugh. He wants to help her with those stupid heavy shit and her bandana. He wants to talk to her, genuinely. No arguing, no talk about the fucking resteraunt. He wants to get her number at a bar after belting out his lungs with his best friend. He wants to call her in the middle of the night and talk. 

And it’s just plain bad.

 Sydney Adamu is his co-worker who’s half his age and has a successful career and life ahead of her. She fucking flipped this resteraunt and whipped the workers into shape. And her food is fucking fire. Richie Jerimovich is a divorced father who still clings onto his dead marriage and dead friend. 

Richie still wears his ring though. It’s the one thing she can’t change, this ring tethered to his finger. But yet somehow, something deep inside of Richie wishes she could.

I wrote this instead of finishing my fanfic. TRUST, part two of that one is coming

[thal-ent]

TW : Violence, character death, blood, objectification and unwanted sexualisation (nothing happens dw), dysphoria, body mutilation, (self) amputation

"Stay focused."

They still treat him like he's a child. Not that he really blame them, they've been doing that for most of their lives, next to them he's just a rookie. Still, he knows his strengths, knows his weaknesses. He knows what to look for before they attack, when the woods are silent and the air full of static.

His eyes look on the left, the right. He's with two older hunters, Ioan and Bogdan. They've been hunters longer than he's been alive, he knows he can rely on their experience and knowledge. Yet, something doesn't feel right tonight. Even for a hunt, everything is too calm, too silent. Vampires naturally make the living creatures around them run away, the stentch of death noticable to most animals.

The smell is stronger that night.

Left, right, still nothing. Had one of the other groups found a nest, they would've, should've informed the rest of them by now. Feral vampires stay close, hunt as a group and fight for the food later.

A sound, barely noticable hasn't it been for the silence that's envelopping them. Virgil raises his sword in the direction of the sound, eyes locked to the shadows. Ioan looks in the other way, makes sure it's not trying to trap them and strike from the back. Bogdan is silent but his grip is firm, his scared jaw tense. Wait for it to strike first, let them think you're the hunted.

Then show your own fangs.

Barely a sound is heard when it strikes, claws first, towards Ioan. Barely human anymore, probably didn't have a good feast in weeks. Yet it stands, not a sound from its mouth as its left hand is severed, limp on the ground.

It doesn't even bleed anymore.

One strike is all it takes for Bogdan to end its fate. One swift mouvement through the heart of the creature, black ooze covering the blade rather than the crimson blood of a living thing. It doesn't slowly disintegrate into ashes or fade away with grace. No, it just ceases to be, what was its knees touching the ground first. It'll go up in flames once the sun touches its corpse, in just a few dozen of minutes.

Ioan mumbles something, Virgil guesses it's a prayer. For the lost soul maybe, maybe for Bogdan who's using a part of his vest to clean his blade. But the three men all feel something wrong.

"The smell is still here."

He barely speak, barely whispers, but it's enough for the older men to agree in silence. Something not right, something's missing, something's-

There's blood on the grass before Virgil hears anything.

There's blood on his boots. On his coat. On his face.

Warm, crimson blood.

And standing over Ioan's body, a vampire. Tall, silent. Perfectly healthy, short haired and smiling with blood on its gloves.

How did they miss it. How could it hide from them.

Bogdan reacts first, sword flying in the creature's direction. Kill first, before it kills you. You'll grieve once safe.

More blood stains the grass as Bogdan's arms fall on the ground, the sword still gripped tightly in his hands. The man doesn't have any time to scream in pain when the vampire's hand crushes his throat, his cries reduced to a pathetic noise. Yet Virgil sees what he wants to yell in his eyes.

"Run."

But something tells him it's exactly what the vampire wants. For him to run, to be scared. For him to become the pray he pretends to be.

So he stands. Sword in hand, heart beating so loud he almost doesn't hear it speak in a soft spoken voice, too sweet and delicate for its nature and the blood on its hands.

"You're not running sweetheart ?" He wants to vomit, but he stands. Stares at it until it laughs. "Well, that's unusual."

It goes toward him, letting Bogdan's barely conscious form fall to the ground, letting it whine as he's loosing too much blood. He'll die soon.

He'll die too, Virgil realises. That vampire is well fed, its cheeks almost pink with warmth, his form too human. Its well fed, not looking for a meal. Its looking for amusement.

A bloody hand sets itself on Virgil's right cheek, slowly caressing the three scars that sit here. Just a bit closer and Virgil could strike its heart, kill it and avenge his compagnons but-

"One move and I'll rip your jaw apart." Virgil knows it means it. The red eyes in front of him cruel and curious. "You're very pretty... How old are you darling ?" He stays silent, but the feeling of claws in his jaw makes him awnser.

"Twenty."

"My, my, so young and yet so hurt already..." It smiles, a fake cry, an apology that doesn't try to be convincing. "Tell me, what did you think you'd do here ?" It takes the cross that sits around Virgil's neck in its hand, staining it with blood as well. "Hurt some ghouls ? Clean the mess ? Really, a shame."

"We're hunting."

"You're saying this like I'm not hunting too. What, it true ! I hunt for fun. Just like any human could."

It drags its hand lower, its fingers meeting leather strong enough to stop any teeth from piercing it, no matter how sharp, around the boy's neck.

Just a few minutes. The dawn is near. He thinks, at least. It should be.

"You hunters and your idiotic "bite-proof" outfits..." It rolls its eyes and smiles, its fangs shining in the darkness. "Should I tell you where it is not ? I feel quite hungry looking at you."

A shudder pass through Virgil's body, his nausea coming back stronger than before. He knows what it means, sees how it's looking at his chest, his legs, his arms, his hips. Feels the familiar way his body yells to rip everything out, or to rip what's looking at him.

But for now he can only wait to strike.

Maybe the vampire thinks it has already won and that's why it lets Virgil keep his sword, steady in his left hand.

He feels a fangs caress his right hand before he moves, more like a reflex than real though.

Maybe he thinks about something.

A tired smile. Eyes that are just as tired behind glasses.

I can't die yet.

The pain in his hand is burning as black ooze falls on his blade and blood runs from his palm.

It bit his hand.

He pierced its heart.

It laughs, eyes wide, unbelieving. The wound does not close, the silver of the blade burning the creature as if it was the sun.

Virgil rips his shirt and quickly creates a tourniquet above his wrist. His veins turn to ooze under it, the venom stopped where the blood stops flowing.

Barely a second pass.

The vampire launches towards him.

He's covered in black liquid as the vampire's head roll on the ground.

But he cannot rest yet.

He rips another part of his shirt, the leather underneath his only shield as the sun slowly rises. His blade is clean, sharp as always.

Another part of his shirt is ripped, a clean one, and he stuffs it in his mouth. He plants his blade to the ground, and put his arm under where it should cut.

He doesn't have time.

He barely scream behind the gag.

Blood and onze come out of the severed limb.

He has no time.

He gets his sword back. Get the gag out.

The sun is out.

The vampires burn quickly. His limp arm does slowly.

He needs to go home.

He feels the blood on him.

He needs to go home.

He's barely conscious when the day patrol finds him stumbling in the forest.

I need to go home.

He's brought to his father's house. He hears whispers, cries, panic.

I'll be home, Bastien.

It's his only though, as the dark claims him.

He swears, to whoever will hear him.

He'll go back to him.

[doctorwho-rewind]

S2 E5: "Rise of the Cybermen"

The TARDIS crash lands in London on a parallel world, where Rose's dad is still alive, people are disappearing off the streets and one of the Doctor's deadliest enemies is about to be reborn.

Episode: S2, E5: "Rise of the Cybermen" Date: May 13, 2006 Writer: Tom MacRae Director: Graeme Harper

Doctor: 10th Companion: Rose Tyler, Mickey Smith Main Villain in This Episode: Cybermen

–

Aaaah the first time we saw the Cybermen back! I always get chills when we first hear a recognisable voice, just like with the reintroduction of the Daleks. Also, an appearance from the late, great Roger Lloyd Pack!

I completely forgot this is the episode with parallel London, and about the great twist that Rose is Jackie’s tiny pet dog instead of an actual person (the Doctor’s laughing reaction when he and Rose discover this is classic). It’s interesting to see how Jackie and Pete might have lived if Pete did make it successful, and they were rich instead of Jackie living on a council estate.

I don’t often talk about the music choices, but whoever decided to put “The Lion Sleeps Tonight” over the sound of distant screams as people are people converted into Cybermen deserves a medal, because it was a great choice.

When one of the Cybermen said “you are not compatible” in its robotic voice, I realised that this one has a very similar vibe to the previous episode, The Girl in the Fireplace, both with their robotic villains that storm a party, with the sounds of the people’s screams even sounding like they could have been the same sound recordings used twice. Just a weird observation when watching them one after the other!

I don’t have much else to say about this one, except it’s a worthy reintroduction of one of the most classic DW villains, and I completely forgot it’s a two-parter… So on we go!

–

⬅️ Previous episode: S2 E4: "The Girl in the Fireplace" ➡️ Next episode: S2 E6: "The Age of Steel"

[gracer222]

Love that celiac feeling when a single contaminated spatula means you have to throw out your whole meal and start from scratch ^^

[hunting-season]

Heya, it's the anon who requested this! I'm sorry that I didn't notice that you only write for platonic/familiar request :,)

Also I'm fine with you writing the best friend reader like you suggested :D

it's okay! dw abt it :) twas simple enough to turn your prompt around from a romantic one to a platonic one!! changed it a bit more cause im feeling a comedy mood and experimental style agn...maybe I'll just call it dorm leader style lol

Best Friend!Reader walks in on the Dorm Leader changing

mentions of underwear, semi-nakedness, and light body issues

Your best friend is anticipating your arrival. It's just a study session, but it's been too long since they've been able to hang out with you! Being dorm leader is unfortunately a busy job, either because of (unofficial) vice leaders unexpectedly dropping more work onto them, or general dorm activities and issues that desperately needed attention. Which is to say, your overworked best friend completely forgot about your lack of knocking...

Riddle almost screamed when you opened the door. He was just in the middle of pulling up his skirts! He's yelling and sputtering as he hastily pulls his dorm uniform on right around him. Stop staring! It's going to be off with your head if you don't! Yes his underpants are hedgehog-print, don't laugh!

Leona really couldn't care, he smelled you just before you kicked open his door. It was just his shirt off anyway, he has his pants on. Stop calling them assless chaps, by the way. He literally shows off more skin during Savanaclaw practices. Oi, stop poking his muscles, you see them all the time.

Azul does scream when you open the door. Don't look at him! Yes you know of his stretch marks, but now they're on full display and Azul doesn't want that! He's quick to pull down his shirt over his head, frazzled and wide-eyed. Just tell him you didn't see anything and assure him you didn't. If you're feeling a little teasing, poke his sides! But do console him. Even if he trusts you, he's still sensitive.

Kalim jumps but is excited you're here! Great Seven, it's been so long!! There's a party later tonight for you, and Kalim's been so excited! Are you? He gives you a hug while pantless. Joke that it looks like he's getting ready to sleep and he'll laugh. He missed you so much!

Vil is surprised but only raises an eyebrow at the intrusion. It's just you, after all. If you stare for a bit, he'll tease you about it. You likely caught him while he was deciding between outfits, so he'll ask for your opinion on things! The study session gets delayed for a small fashion runway gag.

If he could, Idia would definitely be clinging onto the ceiling like a cartoon cat. You scared him! Rare moment of seeing him without a hoodie on. Idia is mumbling incoherently about how barging into places is a common trope in animanga arcs that hinge on miscommunication; it's his method of staying calm. Crack jokes about the trope while passing him his hoodie and Idia will forget you practically saw him naked (he was still wearing a shirt; you saw So Much of his arms).

Malleus hears Sebek's screams before the door groaning open. He's pleasantly surprised to see you! It's been so long, best friend; have you been well? What are you-- Yes, his underwear does have GaoGao Dragon-kun's visage printed on it. Lilia got it for him. (Sebek is still screaming as you two talk [Malleus puts on his pants at the same time].)

[marvels-bitch-boy]

hey i’m the anon that requested “nat’s boy” the one about the friends episodes & i just want to say that it turned out perfectly dw!! i love everything about it and u also did the bit of angst really good too :) i’m so happy it’s gonna have a 2. part bc honestly it could be a great little series even! anyway i love it <3 thanks for writing it!!

So...You've all been asking, and begging for PART 2!!!!

welll.....it just so happens that I have finished it! Here you go!

Masterlist , Part 1

Nat's Boy Part 2:

A/N: so sorry for this taking so long! but I had a lot on my plate with college decisions and then moving halfway across the country. But I was able to finish it! I'm sorry it's so short but please know I did what I could!

Word count: 943

You arrived back at your apartment to see the fiery redhead from before laying peacefully on the couch with a thin blanket covering her. Even though she presumably arrived later than her usual time you had decided to catch dinner with a few interns from the Stark industries college reach-out programs with Pepper and Tony accompanying you. You knew that Natasha would have waited up for you but you figured she would have eventually gone back to your shared bed. You supposed that tonight however it must have felt barren and too spacious even for her. 

You sighed as you took your shoes off and quietly set your keys and bag down before making your way over to the couch. You contemplated lifting her up and carrying her to the bed like you usually would but the fight from earlier echoed in your head. You thought back to the first time you met. How she had smiled at you, you thought it had been one of the most beautiful and genuine smiles you had ever seen. You started to question her words to you. Her actions. 

Shaking your head you attempted to knock the doubt out of your brain. You wanted to trust her and you wanted to believe that she loved you the way you loved her but the thoughts seemed to linger. They whispered as you went to your shared room and got changed, they whispered as you went to the bathroom and did your nightly routine. They whispered as you climbed into the empty bed and felt the cold encase you as you stared at the ceiling. They continued as you got out of bed and made your way back to the couch in the dark of the night. The thoughts were screaming at you as you picked Natasha up and carried her bridal style back to the empty bed. Once you set her down and saw her melt into the bed the whispers faded into the background. The second you felt her arm gently lay over you and her face snuggle into your shoulder ever so lightly the whispers stopped. There was silence. You let the calm silence lull you to sleep as the red-heads breathing seemed to match your own. 

—

 You woke up before her, for the first time since you two had moved in together you were the one who was up and was watching the city come alive. You made your way out of the bed carefully, you didn’t want to wake her for a number of reasons. One was that you didn’t know what to say after the fight the day before. You didn’t know if she wanted to talk to you about what you both said. You didn’t know if she wanted to ignore the issue and pretend as if it never happened. So. You just got up and went along with your morning without waking up the woman in question. 

As you were in the kitchen making your morning cup of coffee, you could hear the footsteps coming down the small hallway. You knew what was coming and it terrified you. You didn’t dare turn around and face the being the steps belonged to. After feeling arms wrap around your waist you froze for a moment and your mind went blank. It was like a void took over your brain. You know what you see when a plane flies through a cloud?... yeah that’s what your mind felt like. Suddenly your hand was scalding hot and you yelped out in pain. Natasha broke away from you and quickly turned on the sink as you thrust your hand under the water. It only took a few minutes for her to clean up the mess and for you to place burn cream on your coffeed hand. She bandaged it up and then gave you a soft hug. You didn’t return it though. She slinked off of you and took your head in her hands. “I’m sorry…” she looked deep into your eyes and was waiting for a response. You attempted to hold your ground but looking deep into her eyes you were stuck. “I am too, I’m sorry I’ve been making you feel this way without even knowing.” you release a sigh and continue “I feel so stupid, I mean of course these things would effect you”. Natasha rubbed your cheeks with her thumbs “You don’t have anything to be sorry for, I’m the one who decided to be jealous, I didn’t trust you and I was wrong for that…” she took a deep breath “And I’m sorry for making you feel like I only wanted to get into bed with you, I swear I didn’t!”. You let her words hang in the air for a moment before you took her hand in your good one. “I know… I’ve been hurt before and-and well I just- I couldn’t believe that you of all people I let in did that…It made me feel stupid”. You’re both staring into each others eyes, tears pooling in the corners of them. 

“I love you, and you are one of the smartest man I know. You are so kind and you only think of others. I would never want to hurt you.” She looked at you with hope in her eyes. You planted a soft kiss on her forehead and spoke up “I know you wouldn’t. I know because I love you too” The words that you both were too afraid of speaking to one another slipped out and you knew you couldn’t take them back. That wasn’t a problem though. You both knew you wouldn’t ever stop saying them.

tags: (let me know if you want to be added too general tags)

@diaryoflife

[ghostdrinkssoup]

*crashes through window* it’s show and tell tonight so welcome back to my hannibal notes/reactions (s1 ep6) except it’s just the silly goofy ones:

omg this is the one with the will scene everyone thirsts over (you know the one)

will: as an insane person, I don’t wanna go into the psychiatric facility, they might not let me out tbh

jack: dw I won’t leave you here *screams in s2 agony*

^^ will: not today *SCREAMS EVEN LOUDER*

chilton my slimy little rat man <333 I missed him omg

the psychiatrists in this show are obsessed with will and I don’t even blame them I wanna pick his brain apart too

a bitch… a flirt… a rat… I hate him 🫶

yep this is the thirst trap will scene

^^ foreshadowing will’s slut arc, so necessary and vital

gideon was fucked for this… good thing he eats his own leg later 🥹

will: I’ll break some dude’s neck and make artistic sculptures out of rotting corpses and indulge in a little social cannibalism here and there but I draw the line at violence against women

“you never replied” “I never do” HE’S JUST LIKE ME FR

“more or less” SHUT UP WILL YOU’RE SUCH A BITCH

will is such a cunt this episode I love him with my whole damn heart

will rlly said UH I know the chesapeake ripper 🙄 stop impersonating my boyfriend

“will is not my patient 🤨 if he was our relationship would be really weird and inappropriate, god”

“we have conversations” yeah the freakiest conversations known to man, amen

“I see the ripper but I don’t feel the ripper” this line has no right to be as romantic as it is jesus christ

I CAN’T BELIEVEEE JACK OPENED UP TO HANNIBAL AND HANNIBAL WAS LIKE TEEHEE I’M GONNA TORMENT YOU SOOOOOO BAD FUCK OFF

zeller in his gaslighter arc like “jack… jack you’re crazyyyy you don’t even know what you’re hearing”

freddie really is a queen she’s the only one other than hannibal that can rival will’s inherent bitchiness

“here we are, a bunch of psychopaths helping each other out” that’s it that’s the show !

NOT HANNIBAL SEEING THE TEA ON HIS IPAD TAKE THE L KING

hannibal was like hold up… deadass? this guy is the one who’s impersonating me? funny time is over I am no longer giggling and twirling my hair…

HANNIBAL IS SUCH A FREAK WDYM HE SLEPT IN JACK’S BED JUST FOR THE LOLS I’m so obsessed with him fr why is he like this

HANNIBAL STOP THE GAY CANNIBAL PUNS NOW

the grape thing was so threatening like okay king…

well that phone call was very handy 👀

miriam’s suit was so slay sorry just had to mention it <33

BITCH RLLY TOOK OFF HIS SHOES FUCKKK

[seasonofthewicth]

Rowaelin Month - Day 3

prompt: a secret relationship

extras: multiple povs

cw: one very brief mention of nsfw topics

word count: 3k

--

Fenrys knows his friends think of him as the joker of the group, and yeah he is hilarious, but there’s more to him than that. He can read the room, can pick up on the subtleties of whichever of his friends might need one of his jokes more than others on any given day. It’s a skill that makes him observant, watchful of people, and he notices things.

He’s not sure if Rowan and Aelin think they’re being subtle, and he’s not sure which of his other friends have picked up on the same things he has, but he’s pretty sure Aelin and Rowan are sleeping together.

He’s not completely sure, he doesn’t have any concrete evidence and they still act normally in the group, but he knows what he saw on the night of Elide’s birthday. He and Rowan have lived together for years and Aelin has crashed at theirs any number of times before but, until that night, she’d never emerged from Rowan’s bedroom the morning after wearing one of his t-shirts.

The material had completely drowned her. The short sleeves had hung to her elbows and the hem had been well down her thighs. She’d seemed somewhat… sneaky as she’d crept into their kitchen in search of coffee.

He knows not to read too much into things, friends share clothes all the time. He’s lost many hoodies to the collective wardrobe owned by their group of friends and he’s still pissed at Lorcan who he knows still has his The Cadre t-shirt from the gig they had attended a few years ago.

What Fenrys also knows is that friends don’t stand at the kitchen counter, holding the neckline of their friend’s shirt to their nose and grinning like an idiot.

He needs to speak to Aedion.

Elide has been friends with Aelin for years and that is more than long enough to know she’s almost always guaranteed to be late to their coffee dates. She’s not bothered, it gives her a few extra minutes to sip away at her own coffee reading her book with the general hum of the coffee shop lulling her into a comfortable rest.

It’s not long before her friend breezes into the coffee shop, the bell above the door ringing and signalling her entrance. It’s very Aelin, her entrance. The wind sweeps in fluffing her golden waves and her steps are full of purpose as she strides towards Elide.

“Sorry I’m late.” Aelin all but throws herself into the seat opposite Elide, smiling a bright smile for the relatively early morning they’re sharing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Elide says, finishing off her final swig of her first coffee. “Want me to go and get our drinks?”

“No, Ellie,” Aelin says, waving her hand. “First one’s on me. I was late, I’ll make it up to you.”

Aelin squeezes her hand before breezing back out of her seat.

She’s back only a couple of minutes later, finally relaxing into the large armchair she occupies. “So, what’s new with you?”

“Nothing much,” Elide shrugs. “Work is tough but nothing I didn’t expect.”

“I’m sure you’re smashing it,” Aelin says with a grin, then places her hand against her chest. “My little Elide, registered nurse taking the world by storm.”

Elide smiles, it feels good to hear those words, after all the sleepless nights and sweat and tears she’s finally where she wants to be.

Aelin continues, “You’re not pushing yourself too hard are you?”

“No,” she says and it’s the truth. “And even if I was, Lorcan is being wonderful.”

Aelin fake gags and Elide shoots her a mostly joking glare. “I find that hard to believe.”

“He is,” she says, thinking of the bath he had drawn her the night before and the massage he’d given her when she complained of her feet aching.

Aelin shifts in her seat as she nods along and the neck of her t-shirt slips down to reveal the ghost of a hickey on her friend’s collarbone. Elide raises an eyebrow.

Aelin looks down before grinning wickedly.

“Anything new with you?”

Aelin’s answer is interrupted by the arrival of their coffees in the hands of a handsome waiter.

“A large mocha,” he says and Elide raises a hand, “and a large cappuccino with cinnamon.”

Aelin raises her own hand. The waiter sets their drinks down, his eyes lingering on Aelin for a minute before he slowly backs away.

“Enjoy,” he says, his eyes still locked on Aelin. “Let me know if you need anything.”

He turns with a wink and Elide raises her other brow at her friend.

“Are you going to get his number?”

Aelin shakes her head. “Not today.”

Elide hums a response before leaning forward in her seat. “Why? You’d usually be all over someone like him, he’s exactly your type. Tall, muscular without being jacked, his curly brown hair, cheeky smile…”

She trails off when Aelin cracks a smile. “I guess I’m just not feeling it today.”

Elide wants to ask why again, she honestly might go over and get the guy’s number for her friend, when Aelin changes the subject rapidly.

“Are you going to Rowan and Fenrys’ later?”

Elide doesn’t process the change of topic until a little later on, once a couple more pieces have slotted into place. Eventually she’s pretty sure she’s worked out why Aelin didn’t want the cute coffee guy’s number.

She needs to speak to Lorcan.

Lorcan Salvaterre doesn’t like Aelin Galathynius.

He tolerates her at best for the sake of the rest of their friends but that said, he still probably wouldn’t want to see her hurt.

When Lysandra puts the message in the group chat-At the hospital with Aelin, dw they think it’s just a sprain-he reads it, absently thinks how he probably hopes she’s okay, and moves on with his day. He’s on his way to meet Rowan at the bar and if anything, Galathynius would want them to raise a toast in her honour.

What Lorcan doesn’t expect is the restless jittering of his best friend’s leg beneath the table, sloshing precious droplets of beer onto the table that his friend doesn’t even seem to notice.

“What’s the matter with you?” he asks as he slides onto his seat opposite the silver haired man.

“Nothing,” Rowan says quickly but his leg keeps up the restless pace.

Lorcan signals to the bartender for his own beer and turns back to Rowan. “Dude, chill out. There’s clearly something up with you and I’m not having you spill my pint.”

Rowan finally notices the state of their table and stills his leg. “Sorry,” Rowan says, using some of the beer mats scattered across their table to mop up the spill.

Now Lorcan really is confused. Usually Whitethorn would cuss him out over apologising. He doesn’t really know what to say.

His phone buzzes in his pocket and he ignores it as Rowan lurches for his own phone. He reads whatever’s on the screen then scowls and locks it again, placing it face up on the table. His knee begins bouncing again.

“You’re being weird,” Lorcan announces.

“Fuck off,” Rowan says and there’s the Whitethorn he knows and loves.

Lorcan opens his mouth to speak again but his phone buzzes and Rowan again lurches for his own. He chews at his lip as he reads whatever’s on the screen and so Lorcan bothers to dig his own phone out of his pocket.

It’s the group chat. He has a couple of unread messages, just Aedion and Elide expressing their concern for Galathynius as expected, nothing exciting. He locks his phone and places it on the table in front of him, watching Rowan for his next move. He’s definitely being weird and Lorcan has no fucking clue why.

His phone buzzes again and the screen lights up with the latest message. It’s Galathynius, he can tell from the stupid crown profile picture she has.

I’m alive, her message reads, just a sprain but I’m gutted bc I wanted a cast so you all could sign it.

Rowan is on his own phone when Lorcan looks back up, he’s tapping away but Lorcan doesn’t see any messages from him in the group chat. His knee has stilled under the table and Lorcan swears there’s something that looks like relief on his face. Relief? As if there was ever any danger of Galathynius not being fine.

Wait.

“Why the fuck are you so worried about Galathynius?”

Rowan’s eyes narrow and he carefully tucks his phone back into his pocket.

“I’m not,” he says but it sounds somewhat like a question and Lorcan isn’t convinced.

Until he decides he doesn’t give a shit enough to ask any more questions, Whitethorn seems back to normal and if Galathynius being fine is the reason for it he can think about it later.

And probably speak to Fenrys.

Aedion is drunk.

Like truly and utterly wasted.

So far a good night.

The rest of the group are somewhere dispersed around the bar but he’s happy here, tucked up in their booth, resting his head against the cushioned velvet while the room spins around him. He’s pretty sure Aelin is still in the booth with him and it might be Rowan with her but he’s too lazy to open his eyes to check.

He can hear the pounding base of a song he doesn’t recognise and he could fall asleep right here, somehow lulled to sleep by the beat and the volume of alcohol he’s consumed.

He doesn’t mean to listen to Aelin and Rowan’s conversation, even though he’s pretty sure it’s not intruding if they know he’s sat right there, but pieces of their conversation spike his attention.

“You don’t want me to stay at yours tonight?” he hears Aelin ask and Aedion is intrigued.

Lysandra is out tonight so Aelin has a safe ride home with her roommate and no need to crash at Rowan and Fenrys’ apartment.

“It’s not that I don’t want you to.” Rowan’s voice is low and hard to hear over the music. “But Fenrys is out with us and if I say I want to leave he’ll join me, then you know he’d ask questions.”

Aedion from tomorrow is screaming at him to pay attention to this conversation and so he keeps his eyes closed to try and listen in. He’s almost holding his breath to try and hear their voices over the noise of the bar.

They’re quiet for a moment and he’s so tempted to crack his eyes open.

“I know,” he finally hears Rowan say. “I’m sorry, Fireheart. We will.”

Hearing the term of endearment drop off Rowan’s lips is too much, it’s weird, he didn’t realise the two of them were close enough for Rowan to know about the nickname his cousin has. He risks opening one of his eyes to just a thin slit.

He’s not ready for what he sees.

Aelin is tucked under Rowan’s arm, resting her cheek on his chest. Rowan’s chin rests on the top of his cousin’s head before he softly presses his lips to her hair.

Aedion has many questions. He immediately closes his eye. He’s drunk, he can’t trust his eyes.

He hears rustling and then definitely his name from his cousin but it doesn’t sound like she’s talking to him.

Then, “Aedion.” Rowan’s voice has him blinking his eyes open and lifting his head from the booth.

They’re separated now, sitting with a couple of inches between them on the seat. Maybe he didn’t see them cuddled up a minute ago, he’s not sure.

“Drink this.” Rowan is holding out a glass of water, his tone leaving no room for protests.

“Hey,” he hears how slurred his voice is and catches Aelin’s laughter. “Thanks bro.”

Aelin puts her face in her hands. Rowan doesn’t crack, just waves the glass of water in front of him. He reaches out to grab it but he can see more than one of his hand reaching for the glass.

“Gods,” Aelin says, looking at Rowan. “Maybe you should take him home.”

“I will,” Rowan agrees quickly, looking at her softly and Aedion has about a million more questions. “I’ll get him to drink this first.”

Aelin nods and he finally manages to take a hold of the water and downs it in about a minute. Rowan slides out of the booth and holds a hand out to Aedion. He lets his friend tug him up and begins his stumble to the exit.

He feels Rowan pause behind him and catches the words, “meet you at yours afterwards.”

He manages to spin and see Aelin smiling as she leaves the booth too. He doesn’t bother to think about it, he probably won’t remember tomorrow.

He’ll ask Lysandra.

Aelin’s hand is clammy where she holds Rowan’s.

It’s the only sign of the nerves she feels, this conversation has been brewing for a while, and regardless of their friends’ reactions she’s happy with Rowan. Honestly, it’s only been about a month in total since that one night for Elide’s birthday that changed everything, but she thinks she might be falling for him.

She can’t believe she thought he was a dick when they first met. Well, she supposes he is a dick. One of the first things he ever said to her was that she was a spoiled brat but, in his defense, she’d just called him a stuck up bastard.

Now though she loves the thrill of his quick mind. Loves the way he can tease and taunt her until she’s trembling beneath him and about a second away from begging. She loves the soft kisses he presses to her hair when he knows she’s had a bad day, she loves when he comes back from work with a slice of chocolate hazelnut cake under his arm because he knows it will make her smile.

What she doesn’t love is keeping this a secret from all of their best friends. It started out as embarrassment, after they slept together on Elide’s birthday she didn’t know what it was, didn’t know if they’d just fucked everything up, didn’t know if their friendships were about to implode.

But then it happened again, and again and again, until it’s four am and she’s pressing her lips to his one last time so she can sneak out without Fenrys noticing and be home before Lysandra wakes up.

The sneaking around was hot at first. His hand over her mouth holding in her whimpers as he fucked her on the couch he shares with Fenrys, when he slid the pillow between her bedframe and the wall when Lysandra had texted asking if she could hear that weird banging noise, all the times they had cut it a little too close. But now, it’s exhausting.

She wants to be able to hold Rowan’s hand and kiss him without the wariness pooling in her stomach and she knows he feels the same.

“Guys,” she says loudly to the room filled with their friends. Rowan squeezes her hand where they’re hidden beneath a couch pillow. “We have something to tell you all.”

Five pairs of eves pivot to her and she swallows.

“Rowan and I are… dating,” she says slowly, as though she’s unsure of how the words will go down.

There’s a beat of silence before their friends erupt.

“I knew it!”

“I fucking told you they were.”

“Pay up you bastard.”

Lorcan scowls, pulling out his wallet and Aelin blinks. She did not expect this.

“Wait.” Lorcan holds up a hand. “Before I hand over any cash we need details. Dating or in a relationship? How long have you been dating? Who asked who? Who started this? Most importantly; when?”

She looks to Rowan who’s green eyes reflect her own bewilderment.

“Um,” he starts unsurely, “we’re in a relationship.” He punctuates this with another squeeze of her hand and she grins. The feeling of his fingers linked through her own spreads warmth up her arm before settling in her chest. “It started a few weeks ago.”

Her friends are all leaning forwards, still waiting.

“When exactly?” Lysandra asks. “Like what was the date?”

“Well, the first time was the night of Elide’s birthday.”

Fenrys launches himself out of his seat. “I fucking told all of you.” He holds his right hand out starkly in front of him. “Pay up all of you, I was right.”

There are complaints and grumbled protests but Fenrys ends up with a handful of twenties and Elide a couple of notes herself.

“Wait,” Aelin says, brushing a hand across her forehead as if this will somehow clear it up. “You guys bet on us?”

That seems to still the commotion coming from the other side of the room.

It’s Aedion who speaks. “Yeah,” he says in a way that sounds like duh. “You didn’t think you were subtle did you?”

“Kind of,” Rowan says eventually, leaning forwards to brace his elbows on his knees. “We weren’t obvious. And none of you ever seemed to let on.”

“Bro, are you serious?” Aedion laughs as Elide and Lysandra snicker.

“You seriously thought we never knew?” Lysandra sounds as baffled as Aelin feels. “All those texts I sent when I knew he was over? All the mysterious unnamed hook-ups on nights you and Rowan both disappeared together? All the times you’d think you were subtle but your lipstick would be on his neck? We have been waiting for this.”

She’s laughing and Aelin feels a bubble of laughter in her own throat. She can’t believe it. It had seemed to reach a point of obviousness but none of them had ever commented.

“I can’t believe you all knew,” she cries burying her face in her hands as Rowan slings an arm around her shoulders and pulls her in close. “Why did none of you say anything?”

“It was against the rules of the bet,” Fenrys says seriously and Rowan uses his other arm to dig his bicep, his laughter rumbling in his chest beneath her.

She smiles into the fabric of his shirt as the group erupts again, bickering over who knew first and who knew the most. Aelin doesn’t care, it’s gone better than she could have imagined and she has Rowan and her friends and she loves them.

A secret relationship no longer. It feels good.

[vander-affectionate]

alright have fun with this

warnings: minors/ageless blogs do not interact, i think we have a fem!reader, best friend!jayce, you and jayce have a good relationship, it's nice to me, kind of fluff, angst, monsterr, mention of demons (dw you're safe), and uhh apparently viktor can blow someone's back out. also sex. reader's not in it, but it's one of those times you gotta leave your apartment bc of your roommate yk? also blood? how did i forget that? uhh, reader has a baseball bat and all actions are in self-defense. maybe some described gore? we're sticking by the don't like don't read rule

a/n: i wrote this bc i like the concept, also i'm trying out a few monster things and i would like feeback because i'm trying new things with new characters

He fiddled with the chipping paint in your door frame and swallowed thickly, cringing at the whiny moan from across the hall. September eyes, the vibrant oranges of leaves littering dark soil that you’re not entirely sure bleed into those colors or are framed with the pretty rust of his iris. They droop and, ah… how can you resist those eyes?

Another moan - Viktor’s - you conclude, whimpers through the hallway.

“Y/n.” he pleads, clutching his pillow to his chest.

Your eyes flick down to his shirt and he’s wearing this International Frisbee Convention shirt that might be a size too small for him. It’s gripping his arms and you huff out a laugh.

He deadpans, sighing as color blossoms over the top of his nose, cheekbones, and peaks at the height of his ears. “It was the first shirt I could grab and-”

“Kassandra.” you hum, fairly amused despire it being one in the morning. “Threatened to throw you out if you walk around without a shirt.”

Both of you jolt at the sound of this repeated slamming and a flurry of moans that follow behind it. Jayce is grateful when you slam the door behind you, muffling a bit of the noise.

He keeps his pillow over his ears, whining softly as if he’s agonized and you really don’t blame him.

“Thank you,” he grounds out quietly. Laying out on the futon and his legs are dangling off the arm of the sofa. He has to turn on his side so that he can fit his shoulders onto the cushion behind him.

“Since when does Viktor fuck?” You can’t keep a smile off your face as Jayce’s face scrunches his nose.

“Never fucked me like that.” he murmurs and you half snort because you know how enamoured he was with Viktor when they’d been dating.

He buries his nose into his pillow and sighs, “‘S fine. He’s happy.” His eyes open and a flash of color takes them over, maybe gold? Maybe you’re sleepy.

A shrill scream pierces through the door and Kassandra’s yelling ensues right after. You bite the inside of your cheek and nod to Jayce, “Come on.” He perks up at what you’re implying. “You’re with me tonight, pup.”

He picks you up, holding you in one arm like you’re a second pillow.

It’s not new. The way you and Jayce brush your teeth together, subtly shoving at each other like you had in college and he knows what he’s doing when he plops on your side of the bed. He expects and receives your kick with a mirthful laugh. None of it’s new.

When he opens his arms, wondering if he can get away with a cuddle. This symbiotic exchange of give and take has always been a refuge for the two of you, solace to you both when life was hard. It’s never changed.

Until now.

Moonlight flickers in the room and splashes over the two of you like a glacial tidal wave. Jayce twitches and growls low in his chest so much so that it makes your pillow shake with the sound. Your mattress is fucking moving.

You open your eyes and hope to fuck that it’s something else. It had to be since that sound couldn’t have come from one of your best friends and you chance a look up at him when you hear him yawn. And it’s from there, staring at him that you realize he’s not who you thought he was.

Canines extend down and down and down. You can’t tear your eyes away from them and the longer you look, the more stiff your limbs become. They don’t shrink when his mouth closes and his lip tears —

He hisses.

A sound that fogs the silence and an eerie feeling takes over the room and you fling yourself off the bed, landing on your back as you scramble to get up.

“Hey-” his voice grates and you’re not even sure if it’s sleep that’s making him rasp. But he seems to know something’s off when he sees your face in the moonlight.

Irises once decorated by the shades of rosewood are being devoured. Veins of black crawl up his cheek when dark blood drips from the tear on his lip, his tongue darts out to lap the dribble going down his chin. You follow the veins leading up to his eyes growing more and more prominent until you watch back crawl over where the red veins in his eyes should’ve been before taking over his eyes.

Your back hits the wall and you don’t dare take your eyes off of him. Cold seeps through your blood and your fingers stretch over the wood underneath you. It’s as cold as you are and it only gets colder the closer your fingers get to the breeze coming in from underneath your door.

“Oh shit.” you’re brought out of your trance when you see Jayce’s hands up in surrender. “It’s okay. It’s- It’s alright-”

“You’re a fucking demon!”

“No!” he huffs, leg catching in the bed and he slips, falling onto the floor and hitting the side of his head on the iron bed rail.

He hisses again and you jolt to the side grabbing the bat on the far side of the door frame and turning the doorknob.

You almost drop the bat when two hands keep the door shut and your knees lock. Your eyes sting and you grip your bat, blood is dripping onto your wrist and you’re trying not to think about it or the rising bile in your throat.

“Wait.” Whispers Jayce. It sounds like him. It sounds just like him and you tighten your grip on your bat.

If he moved that fast then he could’ve done away with you already.

“I’m.. I’m not…”

Why is he keeping you here? Why won’t he let you go? That’s.. that’s obvious. You’ve got one chance and you need to time it right without him-

“I don’t… I didn’t have a choice.”

You lower you bat and Jayce lifts a hand off the door, leaning so he can see your face, but he’s not expecting you to bury the thick end of your bat in his stomach. He chokes, fist curling and breaking your door as he droops.

You swing the door open and take off running toward the front door and it’s open, you’re not sure where you’re going to go with an extra powerful, super quick Jayce on your heels. But you don’t get the door halfway open when an arm wraps around your waist and you go to scream when Jayce pressed a hand over your mouth.

“I know you’re scared” he mutters, changing places with you so his back is on the door.

He’s bleeding from his temple (probably from when he hit his head) and his eyes are… normal? They’re dark, but the black veins are still in his sclera and crawling down his cheekbones.

“I died, okay? I was close, but- it was an accident.”

“An accident? You became a vampire on accident?” you sneer and Jayce growls, running a hand down the side of his face that isn’t trickling down his face.

“No, I- Look,” he glances around before pointing left of you. “That uh, that letter opener is iron-”

“So?!” you reel and if that baseball bat hadn’t taken him out then what would?

“Well you don’t have a wooden stake lying around to kill me!” he argues and he sees the way your face pales. Maybe he didn’t take into account that his best friend wasn’t out for his blood or wanted him dead. Deader? He sighs as he stops his mile a minute thoughts. “I want you to feel like you can still trust me.”

Even if it means you know how to kill him. His kind.

“But just… please…”

He slides down the door and you’ve never seen him so sad. More than he was when he crawled across the hall to your apartment telling you how he and Viktor are no longer dating.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

[mochiwrites]

His eyes start to grow heavy as the fogginess worsens, morphing into exhaustion. His body feels sluggish as he stumbles forward. “What did… you do?” He mumbles as his vision darkens

The stranger smiles at him, “Why, you’re on stage, Grian! This is my circus,” His smile almost seems to sharpen into something dangerous. His voice drops low, laced with excitement, darkness, pride when he speaks again, “And you’re the main event!”

“Why of course! I did say your life is in my hands, didn’t I?” Scar answers, humming. “Though I suppose I can understand your confusion. You might have thought that if you listened to what I said, you’d make it out alive.” Scar smiles politely at him, “But unfortunately for you, you’re going to die tonight.”

“Oh, don’t focus on me, songbird! You should be much more concerned for yourself!” Scar exclaims, somehow knowing that Grian is looking at him.

“What the heck is that supposed to me–” Grian cuts himself off as he hears something cut through the wind, flying past his ear. He jerks to the side, startled. His eyes catch sight of a knife lodged into a wooden pillar, and Grian’s heart stops. “Are you trying to kill me?!” He cries, shouting as more knives follow. He tries desperately to avoid them all, twisting his body and swinging his legs to avoid being cut by them.

He lands right on the mat, skin burning as he slams into it. He bounces up once, twice, before he’s able to lay on it. He went down face first, and in order to breathe, he flips himself over. He stares up at the ceiling, breathing heavily. He gasps in an attempt to grab more air to fill his lungs. And then – he sticks his hand up in the air.

SCREAMS AT YOU??? HELLO???? IM LOVING THIS SISJWK DW AMADB!!!

and i never like- actually read grumbo/scarian content by itself or go out looking for it but i had to read yours and oh my goodness!!! the plot???? the way you write them???? everything in general????

i’m loving this new au your cookin up!! super excited to see where it goes next ^__^

-📚

CRIES AT YOU 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺 WAAAAAAH TY !!!!

this au has been soooo much fun to play with and build ueueueue, especially this fic !!! this fic is but a taste of what kinda storylines you can expect from me and stellar in this au >:3c it’s gonna be lots of fun

[anonquack]

| 3am Calls |

Alex Quackity x Reader, Oneshot!

Word Count: 1700

Warnings: None! Just some fluff.

Summary: Unable to fall asleep, you reach out to a friend in order to help ease you into peaceful slumber.

The seconds are passing quickly, 1am turns to 2am, and it doesn't take long for 3am to hit. Stirring around in bed doesn't make the restlessness stop, the little sheeps jumping around your head fall and get back up, attempting once again to lure you to sleep, but it doesn't work. You find yourself staring up at your ceiling, hands resting on your stomach. There is a stinging in your eyes that lets you know you are indeed tired, yet when your eyes finally close, they can't seem to stay that way. These restless nights had been going on for a while, yet you didn't want to be a bother and reach out to any of your friends. Who knew if they were either sleeping or had better things to do. You wouldn't be finding out any time soon. But.. perhaps tonight it wouldn't hurt to reach out. You felt lonely just staring up at your ceiling, and your own thoughts were eating up at you, making the restlessness feel even worse.

You reach out for your phone, turning it on and immediately being blinded by the bright light. Once your eyes became accustomed to the light, you opened messages and took a glance at all the people you had sent some to. A certain someone definitely caught your eye, but you really weren't sure if he'd be up, considering some days he'd wake up super early. He was a busy man, and fitting into his schedule could be a bit difficult. After some thought and the skin of your bottom lip slowly being bitten off, there was a single message sent.

y/n

hi

It was too late to consider his possible sleeping state or the embarrassment that might overtake you in the morning when you get a text with something along the lines of "i was asleep. sorry". You run a hand down your face, deciding to accept your fate and that your luck ran out. Perhaps you'd go back to counting sheep.

alex ((:

hi

The notification casted a bright light on your face, but this time it was welcome. Your finger quickly clicked on it, taking you to the message app.

y/n

did i wake you up by any chance?

alex ((:

i was editing a video, dw

why are you up?

"i don't know." you said out loud as you read the message. "i really don't know.." a small frown appeared on your lips as you texted back:

y/n

can't sleep

alex ((: ahh, is that where i come in?

y/n perhaps.. if you don't mind ofc

alex ((: call me

The message caught you by surprise. Of course you had talked to him on the phone before, but never this late. Never without it being planned beforehand. Never this sudden. Not because you couldn't sleep. Millions of thoughts rushed through your head as you stared at the message. call me. How could one possibly say no to that?

You cleared your throat before pressing on his contact and clicking on the call button. Soon enough, the sound of ringing could be heard, and you held your breath. Of course, he would answer, but you couldn't help the nervous feeling of talking to him this late, and just.. randomly.

"hello?"

Your breath hitched slightly at the sudden halt of the ringing, and the smooth sound of his voice. It didn't sound like it usually did. His voice wasn't full of energy, like it is when he's screaming at his screen or joking around with friends. It was calm, and sounded like he was a bit tired. Who could blame him? He was up editing at 3 in the morning. And here you were, making him talk on the phone rather than encouraging he get some sleep.

"Hi.." you said as a small smile formed on your lips at the thought of how hardworking this man was. "How's the editing going?"

"Mm.. it's going pretty well. I'll probably upload it by tomorrow. I'm planning on just working on it for a bit more before heading to bed." He stated, to which you let out a small hum, "That's good. It's important that you get your rest."

Now it was his turn to let out a small hum of approval. "What's keeping you up?" He asked. You closed your eyes, letting his voice ring and echo inside your head, letting the calmness his voice carried take over you, making you feel calm as well. "To be honest, I don't know. Whenever I close my eyes I just can't seem to doze off."

"Well, do you wanna keep me company while I finish editing? We can talk about random stuff until I bore you enough for you to knock out."

His words made you let out a small chuckle, shaking your head before realizing he couldn't see you. "You could never bore me." You admitted, thinking about his previous words for a few seconds. "That sounds good, actually. If you don't mind.."

"I offered it, didn't I?"

You hum in response. "True.. its settled then."

He let out a small chuckle in response, and the sound alone made you smile. You took a moment to really think about what was happening. You'd keep each other company until either he finished or his soft voice lulled you to sleep, and you'd talk about random stuff. It was a sweet deal.

As you lay in bed, you could hear the clicking sounds his keyboard made when he typed or when he'd move his mouse around while editing the clips. During small moments of peaceful silence, you could hear his steady breathing or light humming.

You'd asked how his day was and listened as he talked about how busy he'd been lately, some of the stuff he had planned for the upcoming month, and how his hard work would let him relax for a few days.. soon. Just hearing how hard he was working and how genuinely excited he sounded about everything he talked about made a warm feeling appear on your chest.

You gave small comments here and there, asking if he could expand on certain projects that caught your attention, as well as asking how he was keeping up with school work. He gladly answered all your questions, but always made sure to ask, "What about you?"

You hadn't noticed that it was mostly him talking, besides your occasional comment. You were just happy to listen to him speak so passionately about everything he did, and to be completely honest, the calm tone in his voice was also making you feel sleepy.

But you'd never deny that it made you feel so.. included. Yes, this was a 1 on 1 call but he always managed to make you feel like your inputs mattered just as much as everyone else's. It was one of his qualities that you adored wholeheartedly.

It could be during a stream, a group call, or even group chat. He always made sure that everybody felt included. He was just that sweet.

So even if you were now half asleep, you always made sure to respond and also tell him how your day went and what you had been up to. It was nice just being able to talk about simple things like that with him so late.

"I think I'm gonna stop editing for tonight. Just have a few things left but fuck, my eyes are killing me." He finally stated after a questionable discussion.

"As you should. You work too hard.. give your eyes a well deserved rest." You said, slightly rubbing at your eyes. The faint sound of shuffling and a few clicks could be heard, presumably him turning off his PC and heading to his bed.

A few more shuffling sounds could be heard before he spoke again. "I know. Thank you, Y/N. You always remind me how important it is that I take care of myself." The smile was evident in his voice, and he sounded way closer than before.

"Of course.. that's what I'm here for."

"I'll remind you too. Don't worry."

"Thank you, Alex." Small pause. "Are you gonna head to bed now?" You looked at how long the call had been going for and realized it had been well over an hour, making your eyes widen slightly.

"I could. Orrrr I could keep talking to you."

"You could.. but you should also head to bed and-"

"I'm already in bed. Got my blankets covering me and everything. Tucked in."

"Did you tuck yourself in? I should do it for you next time." You joked, before realizing you might have overstepped some boundaries. You froze as the call remained silent for a bit.

"Maybe you should– But you're not really down."

Your body relaxed as you realized his response had the same joking tone as yours did, and that it was okay to joke around about this stuff. You let out a small scoff.

"I'm not down? I will gladly go tuck you in. Just send your location and I'll be there in 5 minutes."

His voice had gotten raspy, quieter, and even more soothing if even possible. Each of his responses seemed to calm you more and more with each passing second.

"Well I'm already tucked in so you missed out on that opportunity." He boldly stated.

"We could tuck each other in next time." You said with a smile on your lips, and that earned a small chuckle from him. "Maybe." He hummed in response.

You felt so elated at that moment. You'd had a wonderful conversation with Alex, and he'd managed to make you feel more relaxed. At that moment, you found your eyelids fluttering shut, and at last they didn't force themselves open again.

Alex had been trying to get comfy himself while you were falling asleep. When he realized the silence had gone on for too long, he listened closely for any sound coming from you, and was only met with steady breaths.

"Y/N..?" He asked, quietly this time. Nothing. He let out a small hum, a small smile on his lips at the realization that you had fallen asleep. "Goodnight, Y/N."

[lizbotw]

Hawks, Bakugou, and Kirishima With a S/O That Has a Kitsune Quirk

Anonymous said:

hello hello !! Can I request some headcannons on how hawks, bakugou, and kirishima would be in a relationship with a fem!s/o that has a Kitsune quirk and fox like traits please? i couldn’t find the rules post so sorry ahead of time if this is anything you’re against doing. 💞

hi! hope you like them ♡ and dw this is something i’m fine with doing!! also, i know you said fem!reader but it came out more so gender neutral so i hope that’s alright!

Takami Keigo (Hawks)

He loves stroking your fur all the time. Even if you try to swat his hand away, he just grabs your arms to stop you so he can go back to doing it.

He just loves teasing you in general and he always has a little smirk on whenever he does it, but he also knows you like it and obviously if you weren’t in the mood he’d know to stop right away—he can read you well so it wouldn’t take him long to realize he should switch into cuddly, comforting boyfriend mode (he especially likes the cuddly part because you’re just so soft).

If he sees any fox plushies in stores when he’s out and about, he’ll show it you and tell you how it looks just like you (he’ll even hold it up next to your face and pretend to do a comparison with a cheeky grin while you try and fail to look annoyed, unable to fight off a smile every time). If you’re not with him, he’ll send you a picture of it and tell you it reminded him of you (he’s always thinking about you honestly), or sometimes he’ll just straight up buy it for you (or do both). Yes, you have way too many fox plushies at home now. (But you also do the same to him so you have way too many bird plushies as well.)

Let him leave the house unsupervised and left up to his own devices and expect quite a few text spams of:

[Keigo sent an image.]

[LOOK AT THIS ONE]

[Keigo sent an image.]

[THIS ONE HAS YOUR EYES???]

[Keigo sent an image.]

[Almost as cute as you 💕]

And once you think it’s finally over and your phone will stop torturing you with its constant buzzing, a few minutes later he’ll text you again. [Babe… don’t be mad but HYPOTHETICALLY how would you feel about sleeping next to five new fox plushies tonight? Once again, HYPOTHETICALLY.]

Reading that, you can literally imagine him saying it as though he was right in front of you with a playful smile on his face, not even the least bit bashful, and badly concealing a shopping bag overflowing with stuffed animals behind his back.

Knowing he already bought them anyway, you have no choice but to agree to the inanimate newcomers that will now be joining in on your cuddle sessions with your boyfriend.

You shake your head in defeat as you text him back that no, you totally wouldn’t mind, and then glance over at the rapidly growing stack of stuffed animals you two already have.

He likes to talk about how you’re perfect for each other because of your quirks and how you make such an amazing “animal duo” or whatever silly name he comes up with that time.

“Please stop googling new nickname ideas, none of are going to catch on.”

Cue camera pan to Keigo typing away on his laptop, furiously searching for an even catchier duo name, tongue slightly sticking out of the side of his mouth in concentration. He doesn’t even look up when you speak, eyes instead lighting up as he reads something. “Okay, so what I’m hearing you say is that you want to see the brand new one I found.”

You’ll probably groan because please, someone help.

“Hey! Don’t give me that look, I know you want to see it.” Aaaaand now he’s pouting which is stupidly cute on someone like him—a pro hero high up on the rankings—and you have to admit you are a little curious. And that’s how you end up giving in and leaning over his shoulder to see what in the world he’s found this time.

(He may also take advantage of the position you two are in now to quickly turn his head to the side and plant a wet kiss on your cheek, lips, jaw—wherever his lips end up really before you can go reeling back from his sneak attack and scolding him while he’s laughing at your expense. Don’t put it past him to cheekily ask for more even after pulling that stunt—spoiler alert: you sigh and agree once again when he pulls out the pouty look for the second time in the last five minutes.)

He loves cuddling with you on the couch when watching a movie, or in bed right before you fall asleep, because your fur is really warm and soft. You should get used to this because even if you manage to roll him off of you, he’ll somehow end up right where he was before. Each and every time.

Buys you cute outfits!!! He goes out of his way to make sure whatever he buys you doesn’t get in the way of you using your quirk while still making sure you look stylish.

(“My baby deserves to look good!”)

(“…Keigo, please, my closet is already overflowing.”)

Tons of gifts related to your quirk. He just thinks it’s so cute. Somehow simultaneously finds both the tackiest and the nicest things ever to give you. The duality means that any time he hands you a gift bag it’s always a gamble as to what’s inside. (“What? I’m just keeping you on your toes! Plus, I thought the fox-themed crocs were pretty cute, I don’t know why you didn’t appreciate them more.)

Overall, he just loves being by your side constantly and always having an arm around you or touching you in some way because you’re soft and fuzzy and he loves showing you off, and he spoils you a lot as well, even if you tell him you already have way more things than you’d ever need.

Bakugou Katsuki

He pretends he doesn’t care about your quirk all that much, but he actually thinks it’s pretty cute and will sometimes absentmindedly stroke your head or play with your fur when you’re just lounging around in his room. If you catch him in the act and ask him about it, he’ll quickly pull his hand away and tell you you were just imagining things.

You know he secretly loves being close to you though, so you’re not afraid to just climb right on top of him when he’s laying down and snuggle into his chest. He’ll probably curse and tell you to get off, but there’s an interesting dilemma that’s always presented:

“Kat, if you want me to get up, you have to stop hugging me first.”

“…fuck no.”

If you’re feeling insecure about your quirk, he’ll be confused because why? You got into U.A. didn’t you? So it’s not like your quirk is terrible or anything.

Yeah, he’s not that great at motivational speeches. But through a lot of cursing and fumbling over his words, he’ll eventually find some way to get it out that he loves your quirk and that you shouldn’t be ashamed of it. Plus, he wouldn’t date a weakling would he? You hit him playfully on the arm when he says that and then he quickly tries to reword it so it doesn’t sound so mean. Please give him a chance.

He loves to intimidate people with his power, but if it’s a class training exercise and he can’t fight whoever you’re up against personally, he’s definitely supporting you because he refuses to lose, even if it’s through you. Cue him screaming words of support from the sidelines and everyone barely containing him from jumping in there and finishing the fight himself because he’s so pumped up.

He also has a lot of respect for your abilities though and has faith in you, so even if you get hit, while he’s still concerned for you, he knows you can take it and will get right back up.

Now, if you get really hurt, he’s the first one to rush to Recovery Girl’s room to check up on you (after first beating up the person who did that to you, of course).

Speaking of this protective side, if anyone makes fun of you their ass is absolutely getting beat!!!

You’ve actually had to stop him a few times from getting into a fight with a group of students he thought were looking at you the wrong way, but you know he’s just looking out for you and find it all pretty funny and endearing.

His rough personality is a perfect contrast to your soft persona (it’s the fur honestly) and everyone at U.A. likes the play on the “opposites attract” trope you two have going on.

Best couple ever honestly because of the pure balance.

Katsuki may not be the best with traditional sweet and caring words, but you understand him better than anyone and anything he does for you you can tell comes from a place of love.

Kirishima Eijirou

#1 fan right here!!!

He thinks it’s cute how you’re so soft and cuddly due to your fox traits while his quirk is all about hardening.

It’s a funny contrast to him but it just makes him want to protect you even more (although he also knows you’re definitely not fragile and can stand up for yourself as well).

If you ever feel insecure about your quirk, you better be prepared to be bombarded with love. He can tell when you’re feeling down and in a school filled with people with so many amazing quirks, he knows what it’s like to sometimes not like yours.

(If he ever falls into a self-loathing spiral, lamenting about how his quirk isn’t as flashy as others, you always know exactly what to say to cheer him up. You’re both each other’s rocks and it strengths your relationship greatly to be so effortlessly open with one another.)

He’s also good with understanding people, no matter what hard exterior they put up (as seen by his friendship with Bakugou), so he makes sure that you feel comfortable around him and are able to talk about any insecurities you’re feeling.

He asks tons of questions about your quirk sometimes because he’s just in awe whenever he watches you, and when you’re cuddling in bed, he likes to stroke your fur (also it feels really comforting so you can’t really complain).

He’s just so interested and in love with you that he’s constantly talking with you.

“Tell me the kitsune legend again,” he’d request, resting his chin in his palm, elbow propped up on the table, and staring at you with pure adoration in his eyes.

“No, this is the third time and we’re supposed to be studying math. How did we even end up talking about Japanese folklore and mythology?”

“Well-”

“Don’t make me tell Bakugou you’re slacking off again,” you threaten with a mischievous grin and a dangerous glint in your eye. The clash of your sweet expression with the warning undertone makes him unsure if you’re joking or not but he decides not to take any chances or push his luck.

That usually clams him up and he looks absolutely adorable as he scrunches up his face when he goes back to trying to work out the difficult math problem.

Anyone who makes you feel bad about your quirk is catching these hands, he does not care!!! Well, maybe he’ll try to be civil at first, but once he sees they’re not backing down, oh boy, he’s going full scary boyfriend mode.

He’s so protective of you, but when you do fight and stand up for yourself, he’s hyping you up so much and supporting you 100%. Expect lots of kisses and hugs and words of praise as he tells you you did great out there.

“Babe, you’re so amazing! I love you so much,” he’d say as he squishes you to his chest (you’re pretty sure he’s about to suffocate you), peppering kisses all over your forehead, temples, and the top of your head after a particularly intense training exercise fight. Everyone has to agree that you two are adorable together, even though some of them pretend to be grossed out with your PDA and stick their tongue out in disgust, turning anyway dramatically.

You two are such a sweet couple. Between all the affection you show each other and your unconditional support for the other person, but also the way you have each other’s backs and won’t hesitate to protect one another, you two just work so well together.

(There’s also a joke going around U.A. about how while Eijirou is soft on the inside because he’s just so supportive, you’re soft on the outside because of your fur. It’s a really stupid saying but you two love it all the same because honestly it’s true.)

[suzuki-violin-school]

The Parts Of The Story You Never Want To Tell

the self indulgence really popped out in these next few oml

Masterlist <<Prior Chapter / Next Chapter>>

Content: bad mental state but not straight up depression, bakugo doing his best, super self indulgent so maybe not as intense for other people but pretty angsty, comfort, happy ending dw dw

Bakugo forgot to knock before opening Y/n’s door. He was greeted with the sight of her dancing stupidly in the middle of the room with earbuds in, but she froze like a deer in headlights when she noticed him. She pulled the earbuds out slowly. Bakugo could still hear music blasting from them. How was Y/n not deaf listening to music that loudly?

“…What are you doing?” He asked, trying not to sound as judgmental as he was.

“…Dancing the pain away,” Y/n answered. Bakugo raised an eyebrow, asking his question without needing words. What pain? Y/n shrugged nonchalantly, despite having been caught in a compromising position. “I feel more like a useless piece of shit today than I have in a while. You gotta channel your energy somewhere, right?”

“Why not ‘channel your energy’ into doing something productive?” Bakugo said lamely.

“Can’t!” Y/n said, smiling brightly. She pulled her phone from her pocket and turned her music off, the noise still blaring from her earbuds stopping abruptly in the middle of a song.

She walked over to her bed and sat on the edge, then laid back, staring up at the ceiling and swinging her legs almost carelessly.

“‘Can’t’?” Bakugo repeated. “Why not?”

He followed her lead, sitting on the edge of her bed, but he didn’t lay back with her. She shrugged again.

“Just not feelin’ it,” she said, her happy smiles and giggles and jokes suddenly gone. Without the cheerful expression, Bakugo noticed that she looked tired. Overworking herself and stressing out, her anxiety, whatever ‘pain’ she was dancing away, all flooded his own senses. Had she always looked so exhausted, and no one noticed because she was so expressive? Even all her frowns and grimaces, scrunching her nose at gross jokes, eyes teary at sad movies, even that hadn’t seemed so… Dead.

“‘Just not feelin’ it’?” Bakugo repeated again. Y/n sighed, nodding.

“Just been tired lately,” she muttered. “Y’know, stuff happens. Things get to your head. When you’re left to your own devices, sometimes you rip yourself apart thinkin’ about stuff.”

“What kind of ‘stuff’ are you tearing yourself down for?” Bakugo asked. Was… Was this okay? Is this how you deal with people when they’re having a hard time? Whenever he was feeling stressed, he would just- Well, maybe his emotions got the best of him, too.

Bullying Deku is, admittedly, not therapy.

“Just stuff,” Y/n said vaguely. “There’s a lot goin’ on up in the noggin tonight.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, laying back on the bed to be beside his girlfriend. It still felt weird to call her that. For a couple, their dynamic wasn’t very couple-y.

“You wanna talk about it?”

“No, but I probably should,” Y/n said, grimacing. “My greatest talent is never talking things out because it gives me anxiety.”

She sat up, leaning her arms on her knees and hunching forward, her back screaming at her to fix her posture while she ignored it.

“But what if talking about it makes you feel better?”

“It doesn’t,” Y/n said, her voice quiet and tired but her tone firm. “I don’t like unloading my problems onto other people. They get worried about me, and then that’s just me causing them anxiety over my anxiety, and then they try to help me, but I can’t do things right, so things just get worse, and then people just sorta give up, and then- And they-”

Y/n stopped talking, not wanting her voice to crack in front of him. He wasn’t the type to comfort a person in a time of need. In fact, he was usually the reason someone was crying.

Y/n desperately blinked back tears, determined to stay strong. Besides, once the floodgates opened, not even god would know when they’d close.

Bakugo sat up, despite having just laid down.

“Well, what if I say I don’t give a shit?” He suggested. “You’re not causing anxiety if the person you’re talking to doesn’t care, right?”

“…But I already know that you don’t not give a shit,” Y/n whined. She pouted. “Just let me suffer by myself, please. A slump like this only happens, like, once a month. I’ll be fine, just-”

“Dammit, I’m trying to be helpful! If you want me to leave you alone, then just say it straight.”

Y/n didn’t speak.

“That’s what I thought, idiot,” Bakugo said, his voice uncharacteristically soft. “What’s the problem? Or are you just fed up with stuff?”

“I’m nothing,” Y/n said, curling up into a ball and hugging her knees close to her chest. Finally, and knowing he wasn’t going to leave her, she let the tears fall. “Literal shit. I’m a useless little slug and everyone hates me, and I’m dumb and I can’t-”

“Stop. Why are you a literal useless slug-thing-whatever? And who’s ‘everyone’, because I’m sure as shit everyone in class thinks you’re, like, an angel or something.”

What the fuck am I saying? Is this helping? Am I making things better or worse?

“I mean, y’know, no one’s gonna care when I’m dead,” Y/n said flatly. “I’m not gonna be important or anything. People I know’ll be sad, yeah, but it’s not gonna matter ten years later, right? I’m just a person, and not even a very good one. I’m as average as average gets. I’m never going to reach any goals or make a difference, I’m just living bullshit!”

Bakugo sighed heavily.

“Okay, and why does everyone hate you?”

“I just… The people I want to be friends with never want to be friends with me back,” she muttered. “I mean, sure, I’ve got people I care about, but how many times have I found out a friend group secretly hates me? How do I know everyone doesn’t? And I’m no angel, Katsuki. I’m just a high school kid who dreams too big and won’t amount to much.”

“Okay,” Bakugo said simply, falling back onto the bed in silence. He didn’t speak another word.

“…Okay?” Y/n repeated, confused. “Is- Is there more, or just ‘okay’?”

“If I tell you you’re wrong, you’re not going to believe me,” Bakugo stated matter-of-factly. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re dead set on thinking you’re a dumb piece peice o’ shit, okay, fine. You’re not, but you don’t want to listen, huh? You just want to wallow in self pity and drown yourself. Fine by me.”

“Wh- Fine by you? What the hell, Katsuki!”

Y/n fell back on the bed in a huff, pouting.

“You’re not a dumbass,” Bakugo told her. “And you only feel like a slug ‘cause you wear the same pajamas every night for months before changing. Your shirt smells like sweat and there’s lint on your pants.”

“Hey! That’s just mean,” Y/n whined. Bakugo shrugged, not caring.

“You’re not stupid, either,” he continued. “One bad semester shouldn’t make you think you’re always going to fail. And I promise no one hates you. Except that Monoma guy, but he doesn’t matter, okay? …But if he ever says that to your face, I’m gonna beat the shit outta him.”

“Isn’t that just how you feel about him always?”

“And what about it? They won’t let me fight him without a ‘good reason’,” Bakugo complained, rolling his eyes. “But I think Sparky once said something about ‘defending your girlfriend’s honor’ or some stupid shit like that.”

Y/n snickered, wiping her tired eyes free of tears.

“But didn’t he say that when he was playing as Peach during Mario Kart and Mina was playing as Mario and she threw a blue shell at him?” Y/n asked, remembering that night. Bakugo and Kirishima had skipped the game, ordering meat lover’s pizza over the phone together instead.

Bakugo shrugged, watching Y/n as she sat up, crossing her legs comfortably.

“I don’t fuckin’ know, you think I remember that kind o’ shit?”

Y/n made a face, sticking her tongue out at him. Her eyes seemed bright again, and even though she still looked tired, she didn’t look as utterly hopeless as she had a minute ago.

“Yeah, actually, I think you do,” she protested. “However much you say you hate Kaminari, you love us.”

“Whatever you say, idiot,” he answered. True, he loved his friends, but he would never say it aloud. “You feelin’ better?”

Y/n smiled, however softly. Her eyelids felt heavy and her stomach was still doing backflips, but she did feel better.

“Yeah. Thanks, Katsuki,” she said. A comfortable silence came down between them both for a few moments.

“…If you ever feel shitty again, come to me, okay?” Bakugo offered, sitting up. “I don’t care if you don’t wanna talk or even if you just want to sit on my bed for a few minutes. I’m your boyfriend, it’s basically my job to make sure you don’t feel like crap. And don’t give me any of that ‘I’m fine’ shit when you're not, okay?!”

“Yeah, okay,” Y/n said. “I’ll take you up on that offer.”

“You said you get ‘I feel shitty’ episodes once a month or something, right?” Bakugo asked. Y/n nodded, shrugging. Bakugo was quiet for a moment before speaking. “…What if we have a monthly thing? Like, I’ll come to your room- or you can come to mine, I don’t care -and you can just… I dunno, do what you need? I’ll just do this again?”

“What, you mean like a monthly de-stress date night thing?” Y/n asked. Bakugo nodded. “Sure. After all, I’m your girlfriend, so it’s basically my job to spend time with you.”

Bakugo rolled his eyes, not caring to hide a smile.

“Whatever, idiot.”

=

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[remmyswritings]

our secret pt. 2//regulus black x reader

Hello my beautiful Puffs!!! So I wrote this pretty early this morning, and while I just went over it again just now, please excuse any mistakes you find (dw @kashishwrites​ i did go back to sleep) Anyway I hope y’all like this <3 :) 

taglist: @willowbleedsonpaper​ @summer-writes​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @firewhisky-kisses​ @potterverseimagine​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​ @masterofthedarkness​ @imboredandneedalife​ @lila-lilakk​ @strawberriesonsummer​ @kalimagik​ @62442-am​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @curious-curios​ @jenniweaslee​ @cherrycolakxsses​ @peeves-a-legend​ @booksmusicteaandanimals​ @heart-of-tempered-steel​ @kashishwrites​ @siriusly-addicted-to-writing​ @redbulletxxxworld​ @pcseidcnsvoid​

part 1 

*Not my GIF, credit to creator*

It had been a year- a very long year- since that fateful day at Hogsmeade where you finally convinced Regulus to let his brother- and by extension his brother’s friends- help him stay alive. Of course with Regulus now working as a double agent for the Order it was getting harder and harder for the two of you to spend time together. He was a skilled enough Legilimens so that You Know Who wouldn’t have a clue but around you, everything went away. You were, and still are, his one weakness. That’s why sitting across from him after the Order meeting had ended, telling everyone about his plan to replace the horcrux you knew you had to act. 

“Reg,” you reached your hand out to him hoping the physical contact would make him look at you for the first time in weeks, “can we talk?”

He still wouldn’t look at you completely but he nodded, so you took that as an improvement. 

You pulled him aside hoping that nobody would disturb the two of you, “Mi amor, can you please look at me? Please?”

His eyes shifted down and caught yours and the second they did you realized why he hadn’t looked at you before- he was terrified and you were the only person he showed any emotion to. You threw yourself into his arms hoping that at least the physical comfort might help a bit. His body tensed slightly at first since it had been quite some time since the two of you had touched only to relax completely, as if his body were putty. One of his hands went to your lower back while the other ran itself through your hair, his face hiding in that little spot in your neck. You swore you felt something wet but honestly you didn’t care… you finally had Regulus in your arms.

“I love you so much Regulus. I hope you know that, and I’m so proud of you,” you started your little speech. “But please for the love of everything good in the world don’t push me away- not now. I need you, I need to feel your heartbeat in the morning and need to be able to run my hands through your hair. I need to hear you read poetry to me on the weekends and hear you sing those French songs in the shower. I need to see you lying next to me when I go to sleep at night and when I wake up again in the morning. Please stop doing this.”

He nodded again and his hold on you tightened even more, “I’m sorry my love. I’m sorry for pushing you away and for hurting you in the process. I just- I worry that someone will figure out who you are and what you mean to me. And if it weren’t for this war, we’d probably already be married and I’d have found us a beautiful flat to stay in and you would have an amazing job with the Ministry. And I want to have that with you, but I can’t- not until I finish this.”

“We can at least start it- our plans for the future,” you pulled away slightly so that you could look at him, “Let’s get married… tonight.”

Regulus at first look bewildered but understand where you were coming from. After all tomorrow he’d go on a mission where he could basically end up dead, so if anything were to happen (fingers crossed it doesn’t) then at least the two of you would be married.

“Ok, but who will officiate it?” You could see the light in his eyes that had dimmed over the past week, reignite itself.

“Um…” you looked around the room where you all were, “I think we can get Remus to do it, and we have enough people here as witnesses.”

Regulus nodded his head and turned around to face the others in the room. They had seen the two of you talk for quite some time now but out of respect had decided not to eavesdrop, although you had made it difficult for them to even try in the first place.

“We’ve decided we want to get married tonight,” the announcement was met with excitement. 

After a little bit of coordinating, you were whisked away by Lily and Sirius while Remus and James helped Regulus get ready. You were quite surprised when Sirius said he’d be with you but in his words “I want to finally spend some one-on-one time with my soon-to-be sister-in-law. Plus Regulus won’t let me touch his hair.”

Thankfully, you had a dress hidden away from several months ago when you were given the chance to go to muggle London. It wasn’t a white dress but that fact seemed to make it even more unique. You were soon helped into your dress and your hair put into a beautiful updo. You didn’t have any flowers to hold or a veil in your hair, but you still felt like you were a princess. 

When you were finally ready, and everyone else in the house was dressed up, you were led outside to the backyard. With just a little bit of magic, small lights filled the air between you and your love. Lily, who had become something of a sister to you since you arrived, walked you down the makeshift aisle. 

By the time you had met Regulus, tears had started to fall from your eyes and you could see that the same was happening with him. There was not a dry-eyed soul in the vicinity. 

After that, everything became a blur… at least until you got to the vows. When Regulus started to read his, you weren’t sure if you would be able to make it through yours.

My love,

Since the very first day we met I knew you would be someone important to me. Even at eleven years old, you were quite good at reminding me when I was acting like a pretentious ass, but I wouldn’t want anyone else in the world calling me out with the sass that you do.

I think we can all agree that you are my better half. Whenever I look at you all I see is light, absolute pure light. You make everything around me seem so much better and you’ve taught me what it means to be a good person. I don’t think I would even be here right now if it weren’t for you. 

You are everything I wish to be and more, my love.

Your hands trembled as you pulled out the paper with the vows you had written one day, with the plan for them to be used much much later.

Mi amor,

I can’t imagine a life where I wake up without you by my side. You’ve taught me what it means to be resilient and determined, especially in the face of fear and evil. And what love looks like. I mean to me you are the definition of true love. 

When I think of us and what we’ve been through I think of all those moments we had together, where it was just about us. There is no one else who I’d want to sass at some point in my day, and there is no one else who I would want by my side when I fight. 

You may think that I’m your better half, but to be quite honest it’s the opposite. Being your friend, and then your lover, you have taught me so much that I can’t possibly put it into words even though I tried. 

I can’t wait to start our future together, mi amor.

By the time you had finished, everyone had started to sob. That night as much as worry filled the air, so did love. When Remus finally said the words “you may kiss the bride” Regulus had almost swept you off your feet- not that you minded. 

The two of you were led back inside where your new marriage was celebrated with day old cake and some left over wine. You didn’t care though, all you felt was happiness and hope that tomorrow would turn out okay. 

For the first time in weeks, Regulus and you slept together in the same bed. You didn’t do anything that night except hold one another in your arms and whisper I love yous throughout the night. The next morning, you were thankful to have woken up first, being given the chance to see your husband look so peaceful was something that you loved. Your husband, there was something about even thinking those words that set a fire in you. 

When the time came, Regulus and you went down to the kitchen where you would wait with the others for his return. It was a nerve-wracking several hours, so much so that Sirius had to grab you by the shoulders to stop your pacing. 

Finally, Regulus appeared close to death and you weren’t sure whether to scream or cry. You rushed over to him, a mere heap on the floor, and with some struggle lifted him into the sofa. Your hands didn’t stop moving until every cut was sealed and no more blood was pouring out of him. By the end, you had to be dragged towards the bathroom and have your hands cleaned, not wanting to leave Regulus alone. 

5 days. 5. 

That’s how long it took for Regulus to wake up. By then every Order member knew not to bother you as you sat by your husband. Sirius would sit with you occasionally and would constantly make sure you ate and drank water… something about how his little brother would kill him if he found out that nobody had made sure you were okay. 

When those grey, stormy eyes opened, the tears that you had held back when he arrived broke through. 

“Sirius!” You called out, “Sirius! He’s awake.”

You had to hold yourself back from simultaneously tackling Regulus out of happiness now that he was awake and hitting him out of anger for almost dying.

The two brothers spoke in private as you were sent to go drink some water. You weren’t sure how long you stood there, leaning against the counter until you saw Regulus out of the corner of your eye holding himself up with the doorframe.

“What are you doing up?” You rushed over to him, “You should be lying down.”

“So this is the first thing I hear from my beautiful wife,” he smirked slightly.

“Oh- if you were expecting me to be mad, I am. I am very mad at you,” you cupped his cheeks with your hands, squeezing them slightly, “but I’m also very very happy that you’re alive and standing in front of me. So this is what you get.”

Regulus wrapped you in his arms and although he told you he was fully healed, the face he made told you otherwise. 

Some days later, Dumbledore stopped by and told you that it would be best for the two of you to flee. You Know Who has gotten word about a traitor in his midst and Regulus’ absence had made him a suspect. The two of you packed your things and then spent that night together with your little family that had formed in the past year. 

You all cried, laughed, and screamed one last time. Then Regulus picked up your bags and wrapped you up in his arms.

“One day,” he started, “when this is all over. We’ll come back. I promise my love.”

With a pop, the two of you disappeared into the night, heading to who knows where to start your new life together.