#they might find it tolerable at first but eventually they grow impatient and hes just... not invited to stuff anymore

[liquidstar]

a friend who'd wait :)

[lovelybrooke]

It is I! I’m gonna be talking about Velvette finally. Also I hadn’t read your post yet but you asked for some help with stolas Ozzie and fizz and fortunately for you I’m hyper fixated on helluva boss and Hazbin hotel so eventually once I’m confident I’ll try to give you my ideas.

Now Velvette is a mix between vox’s personal obsession and Val’s cosmetic interest towards the reader. She learns of the reader from Val and Vox, and gets mixed information from the two, Val speaking of the reader based on how defensive Angel has been to Val and Vox shareing the less interesting parts of the readers life (like their hobbies) I personally find Velvette will be the last to grow an interest, but even when she does I think it’ll be more moderate, at least compared to Vox who I personally headcanon infodumps about the reader.

Also if the reader meets Velvette I feel in a way Velvette would be the least scary, because she isn’t that tall looks relatively human and uses internet lingo (also my head canon, and this is not to say the reader uses slang or internet terminology its just the reader might be familiar with it)

Velvette at first only tolerates Vox’s tangents about the reader for Vox’s sake, I know for a fact that Val would get impatient or say something snarky that bothers Vox. And because of velvette’s tolerance to him he might bless her with saved footage of the reader that he treasures or thinks is intimate (for example the reader writing something important in a diary or drawing something that might be expressing how they really feel. Or a honest smile that they rarely hold).

I also can imagine once Val has finally taken an interest of the reader, and thinks about them more often, Velvette and Val have conversations about them, without Vox though, because their contrasting perspectives on the reader has caused some tension. Val shares this morbid conception of the reader, comparing them to a pet, and sharing some information he managed to gather from Angel Dust, albeit little information.

This obviously puts Velvette in this unique position where she’s hearing information about the reader from two separate sources, and at the same time her conception and image of the reader being blend of Val and Vox’s. Val’s image of the reader being something worth complimenting makes Velvette see the reader as this doll. And Vox’s more intimate and personal image of the reader pushes Velvette to think the reader might be a chill nice person to be around.

And how this mixed conception applies is more calm? Or natural? Compared to the other two, who have more extreme conceptions. For example once Velvette takes a small liking to the reader she starts noticing certain clothes and fashion choices that don’t look good on her might look really good on the reader. When a model of hers presents an outfit Velvette might think ‘this’ll look really cute on the reader’, Velvette might even find songs that remind her of the reader (I personally see her as a gal who listens to a lot of music and values music taste. But this is also just a headcanon)

Velvette doesn’t constantly think of the reader, it’s only when certain things remind her of the reader, which just tells me that she isn’t that obsessed. She probably likes the idea of enforcing her tastes onto the reader but otherwise also enjoys some of the differences between her and the reader. It makes her a little more open to subgenres in music and fashion (especially if the reader is into that)

Velvette is basically the type of girl who might push reader into doing things that they don’t want, but she also would balance it out by letting the reader do things they want. She wants the reader to adopt some of her tastes and mannerisms, but she’s also just as equally interested in the readers tastes and mannerisms. Sure she might not fully respect the readers boundaries but at least she isn’t going out of her way to dehumanize them like Val does.

She’s much more moderate because she rarely ever hears of or sees the reader, and I imagine some things might change once she meets or interacts with the reader. Like I imagine her being the type to get really jealous and maybe might make the reader a little insecure to ensure they stay with her. But at the moment she probably doesn’t think that way cause until she gets to spend time with the reader she’ll probably be more interested instead of obsessed.

yeah more stuff. I'm really excited to hear your stuff about Helluva Boss.

Yeah like I mentioned in my last post, Velvette is kinda in the middle when it comes to her obsession for reader. She doesn't necessarily want to know everything about them like Vox, but also doesn't see reader as an object like Val. I think like you mentioned, Velvette wants reader to become like her, sorta. She still wants reader to have a personality separate from her own, but that doesn't stop her from pressuring reader into doing things they don't want to do, especially if she believes it's something she has to do.

I think everything Velvette has learned about reader she's learned against her own will, either from Val or Vox. It's even worse when they're arguing about reader because they barely acknowledge she's there. However, this works to her advantage because she doesn't have to work real hard to learn about reader. She's also smart, and knows how to talk about you based on who she's speaking with. When she's around Val, she's more possessive, objectifying even. While when she's with Vox she's more open and aware of readers emotions. This makes it hard to know what she truly thinks of reader.

But once she does gain an interest in reader, she's a pure mixture of both of the men she lives with. She's jealous and mean in ways that are reminiscent of Val, but also very aware of readers emotions like Vox. I don't think she, or anyone else for that matter, is really aware of what she actually feels for reader, but she doesn't really get a choice to not be exposed to them, so she might as well buckle up for the ride.

[axoxtxhxh]

Not Without Trying - Chapter 9

Summary: Levi struggles to admit his feelings to Reader, unsure if she feels the same way.

LevixFem!Reader

Warnings: Light grinding, Levi being cute

Word Count: ~ 2,700

Y/N walked back to her door, barely making it to her bed after Levi left, before hearing another knock.

“Levi?” She was surprised. Shit! She’s surprised I’m back. “Checking in on me again?” She smiled.

He wanted to kiss her. God, did he want to kiss her. He held his gaze for a little too long because she started to look confused.

“C—can I come in?” He asked. Damn it, stop stuttering!

“Sure.” She smiled and move out of the way for him to walk in. He shuffled to the wall next to her dresser away from her bed, knowing that was where she would sit. She sat on the bed and he watched her, still saying nothing. She looked around her room, not knowing what he was doing.

“Uh…” He made a noise and looked to the floor.

“So… you’re here.” She pressed her lips together and her eyes were shifting again, looking for any reason that he might be there. Without him telling her, she had no idea, but he still didn’t speak. “Do you want me to guess why you’re here?”

He closed his eyes and took a breath. “I really have no idea what I’m doing.”

“What you’re doing? With what?”

“I…uh…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. This was already failing. He felt stupid and completely out of his element. This isn’t the kind of thing he normally did. His heart was beating so quickly in his chest, he could feel it in his ears. His mouth was dry as he swallowed the lump in his throat.

“Is there something you’re trying to say?”

“Y—yes.”

He looked around the room, shifting his weight around, becoming increasingly aware of the fact that this was the first time he wasn’t sure what to do with his hands. He normally held them at his sides, but they felt heavy, almost pulling at his shoulders. He moved them to his pocket, but it felt too stiff so he moved one to her dresser, propping up his head on his elbow. I look like an idiot. He dropped his hands down, holding them at his sides awkwardly.

“Why don’t you come sit here.” She could see how uncomfortable he was, moving around to find a comfortable spot. He looked like a little kid trying to ask his mom to play outside and she tried not to smile at him. Instead she stood up, grabbing his hands and pulling him to the bed.

Seeing her sit there in front of him made it both easier and harder to speak. This isn’t anything new. This is Y/N. You’ve spoken to her so many times. Don’t be stupid. He looked at her, wanting to speak, but still not sure what to say. Her eyes were so forgiving, just looking at him and trying to encourage him to speak and he sat there like an idiot.

“I…um…It’s…” He chuckled at his stupidity. He took another deep breath.

“Are you okay? I’ve never seen you like—”

“Maybe Hange was right.” The words poured out of his mouth.

“Hange was right?” She repeated.

“God, don’t make me say it.” He groaned, putting his face in his hands and resting them on his knees. How was this so hard for him. He wanted to bang his head against the wall. He wasn’t good at this sort of thing. Y/N is so smart, why does she have to be so dumb right now?

“Levi, whatever you want to say, just say it.” She reassured him. “It’s me you’re talking to.”

She was right, it was only her, but it wasn’t making it any easier for him knowing that because it may just be her, but shewas the reason he was feeling like this. She was the reason he couldn’t get out of his own head and tell her. She was the reason he couldn’t focus on anything because every time he looked into her eyes he saw understanding and kindness and her quiet strength that made him melt into putty. He could feel his cheeks getting warm the more he thought about her.

She was starting to get nervous. She had never seen Levi acting like this and she was worried this was bad, something he didn’t want to say to her, but he needed to say. What if she wasn’t doing her job well? What if her flirting had been unprofessional and he told Erwin and now she was getting kicked out the survey corps? So many things ran through her head and she was getting impatient waiting for Levi to tell her the bad news.

“Hange was right that…” He started. “Maybe we should…”

He started speaking with his hands. He never spoke with his hands and it was giving Y/N so much anxiety. She knew he would never want to hurt her and if he was trying to sugarcoat the fact that she might be fired, he was doing it with the best intentions, but it was killing her.

“Maybe we could…”

Could? Could calm down? Could quit? Could what?!

“…try… “

Try being more professional? Try what?

“…dating.” …What?

Y/N’s eyes widened and Levi caught it.

“I knew it.” He complained. “It was stupid. I shouldn’t have said anything.” He stood up. “Ugh, I was dumb to think—”

“Levi, stop!” She pulled his arm, but he kept pulling away, turning his body, refusing to look at her. “Levi! You’re acting… like… a child!”

She kept trying to pull him, but ultimately thought it would be easier to let him pull away. She kept hold of his hand, but when he tried to leave, she grabbed his shoulders and pushed him against the wall, he looked down, unable to look her in the face.

“Please, Y/N.” He pleaded. “Just let me… I just feel so… God, it was such a—”

“It’s not a stupid idea.” She interrupted. He looked up at her, his cheeks decorated with a bright pink flush. “It’s not stupid.”

He relaxed his shoulders and she let go of him, going back to sit on the bed and hoping he would follow her.

“Then you…were y—were you thinking…”

“This is definitely a side of you I’ve never seen before.” She smiled.

“Shut up.” He smiled back, moving to sit next to her. “So it’s not a bad idea?”

Y/N shook her head. Levi looked away from her and down at his hands. He couldn’t even describe how he was feeling. Anxious was definitely up there though.

“So, what are we… What will we be to each other? Are there certain steps we have to…?” He stopped talking as he watched her smile grow at his question. “I don’t… I’ve never…”

“How about you decide. You tell me what we are.” She replied leaning back on her arms.

He knew what he actually wanted to tell her. He wanted to tell her that she was everything to him. One of his best friends. That she was one of the only things he would give everything up for. That his heart had started beating quickly every time he sees her and he doesn’t know why, but he wants to figure it out.

She could see how overwhelmed he was just by looking at his face. He got lost in his own thoughts and probably wasn’t going to come out of there for a while so she spoke first.

“I care about you Levi,” she started, “I value you as a friend. I don’t know what I would do if I lost you. You’ve been here for me in a way no one else has and in a way I didn’t even know I needed. You’re someone in my life that I could never replace.”

Levi watched her as she spoke.

“You’re also one of the only people I can tolerate being around for more than 20 minutes.” She smiled at him and he laughed lightly at her using what he said to her.  “I have a lot of respect for you, but these last few weeks have been making me think about what Hange said as well.”

His heart skipped a little. Did she just say…

“Maybe Hange knows something we don’t.” She held his hand. He looked down at their hands then intertwined their fingers. She smiled at him and he smiled back. “Let’s see where it goes.”

Y/N started leaning closer to him. He froze and the closer she got, the heavier his breathing got. She was so close to his face now.

“Levi?” She stopped moving forward.

“Yeah?”

“You’re going to break my hand.” He looked down and realized he had been squeezing her hand so tightly his knuckles were white. He quickly released it.

“I—I’m sorry.” He stood up, walking to the wall and back a couple times. “I don’t really… I mean, I’ve never been in a relationship, so all the things that come with it. Like…”

“Kissing.”

“Yes… kissing. I don’t have much experience with it.” He stopped pacing and stood in front of her.

She leaned her arms back on the bed.

“Well we don’t have to kiss. There are other things we could do. You seem pretty okay with holding hands. There’s hugging, or even just sitting closely to each other. We already eat meals together so that one is good. Eventually there’s sex, but without kiss—”

A high-pitched noise escaped Levi’s mouth and his eyes went wide. He quickly slammed his mouth shut.

“What was that?” Y/N teased, chuckling at him.

“Nothing.” He answered quickly, moving over to the wall, resting his head against it.

“Levi, we don’t have to do any of that stuff if you don’t want to.” She reassured him.

“I want to though. I really do.” He took a deep breath.

He started rubbing his nail against the wall, trying to get himself together and Y/N stood up, wanting to help him relax.

“I’m sorry. I’m not confident with any of this.” He whispered.

“You’re just nervous.” She comforted him, not wanting to walk any closer in case it would make him feel weird. “That’s not bad.”

“But I do want to kiss you. I do.”

“Do you want me to help you?” She asked quietly. “I mean, you are dealing with a rather dominant woman.”

He laughed in agreement.

“I don’t mind helping you along.” She continued. “It will be more of a push than guidance. And if I’m being honest it will be more of a shove than a light push. I’ve never been very gentle.”

He laughed again and nodded at the wall.

“Well first, close your eyes.” She started.

He stayed where he was, standing up straight and following what she said.

“Now take a deep breath.” He did.

“Another.” He did.

“One more.” He did what she said, feeling a bit calmer.

“You can open your eyes.” Her voice was right in front of him.

He opened his eyes and looked at her. She was so close to his face now, her skin looking as soft and smooth as it always did. He could see how the moonlight painted shadows on her face and it showed how high her cheekbones were. Even in the near darkness, her eyes still looked so beautiful.

She moved her hand down his arm until she was holding his hand. Her other hand moved away some of the hair in his eyes and then lightly brushed across his cheek. His eyes fluttered closed at her touch and he took a deep breath. Not a calming deep breath, but a forced one. He was very sure she could feel his heart beat in his hand and he wanted anything to distract him from it. He took another deep breath and opened his eyes.

“Y/N…” His voice was shaky as he looked at her through the curtain of his bangs, his arm resting on the wall just to the side of her head.

“Yes…?” She was smiling and secretly loving every second of his embarrassing discomfort. He was cute. A word she never thought she would use to describe Levi. Handsome? Yes. Debonair? Definitely. He was even charming in his own way, but cute? Never would she have thought it.

“Can I…” He looked away, eyes darting left and right aimed at the floor while he tried to get the words out.

“Can you...” She could barely hold in her excitement almost bouncing while she waited for him to finish his question. He slowly looked up at her. The expression on his face the same as it always was. Though this time a slight tint of pink sat on his cheeks while his pupils were fully dilated.

“Can I kiss you?” He breathed, his voice just over a whisper.

Y/N smiled. She took in the moment enjoying his face being so close to hers, watching how his eyes searched her face, desperate for her answer, his breath, smelling faintly of black tea, hitting her face with each exhale.

She could only imagine his heart beating as fast as hers right now. She was excited too. It wasn’t just Levi who was nervous. She wanted this just as badly as he did and if it weren’t for her trying to comfort him, she would probably be as visibly awkward.

She looked down, searching his body for anything appropriate to touch to bring even more heat into the moment. Finally, she settled on his hip and lightly looped her first finger into his pant loop then replied.

“Yes.”

Levi took a small step closer to her while bringing his free hand to her cheek. He lifted his head and leaned in further then kissed her.

It was a little slow at first. Only just pecking his closed lips to hers. She was reminded that this was most likely one of Levi’s first kisses. She relaxed a little, letting him take the lead. Her stomach fluttered at his inexperience and she wondered how he must be feeling.

He continued slowly and after a few more pecks and some angled rotations of his head, he was getting more comfortable and his lips started lingering longer on hers. With his hand still on the wall behind her, he leaned into her body a little more.

Feeling him move closer, Y/N utilized the opportunity to push the kiss slightly deeper. She used the tip of her tongue to barely touch his upper lip, grazing across the front. With this he let out the softest, breathy moan and immediately felt self-conscious.

Before he could pull away, Y/N wrapped one arm around his neck and the other around his waist pulling him even deeper into her arms while never letting his lips leave hers. She sighed quietly into his mouth to let him know it’s okay and his hand went to her waist, lightly squeezing her.

They both pushed away from the wall a bit as they closed the gap in between their bodies entirely. Levi moved his hand up to Y/N’s upper back, pulling her even closer. Y/N could tell he was much more comfortable now, opening his mouth and deepening the kiss.

Levi could feel himself getting hotter, sparks moving through his body and building heat in his stomach. He pulled her as close as he could and began lowering his hand to her hips and pushing his hips against hers. She moaned into him and couldn’t stop herself from sliding her tongue into his mouth.

He let out a loud exhale, breathing heavier as both of his hands reached her hips and he roughly grinded himself against her. Y/N could start to feel a hardness hitting her upper thigh and she moved her hand to try to rub harder against him, her own breathing getting heavy.

Knock! Knock!

They both pulled away looking at the door wondering who was knocking this late at night. Reluctantly, they separated from each other and Y/N went to open the door.

“Hange?” Levi questioned. The other captain looked from Y/N to Levi. A slow, but very large grin growing on their face. Oh shit.

Taglist: @levisbebe @nefelimalfoy​

[gojology]

Job Benefits. (Part 4)

❝...𝑪𝑶𝑴𝑬 𝑶𝑵, 𝑺𝑷𝑰𝑻 𝑰𝑻 𝑶𝑼𝑻.❞

CONSPIRING. - Chapter Four

you can find part three here :

part three : routines

pairing : ceo! gojo x female reader warnings : cursing, no proof reading, no editing wordcount : 2494 a/n :  this is so bad, i... i am so sorry. in my defense i haven’t written in a while, but i hope u guys still like this regardless </3

     Almost immediately after stepping foot into the room, you’re greeted with a minimalist, yet clean looking interior. Large window panes with Tokyo’s beautiful sunlight filtering into the already lively room.     There’s a few co-workers you can see sitting by the vending machines on plush arm-rest chairs, the cushions colored a beautiful tan alongside oak wood arm rests and chair legs. Others are on their phone, texting and furiously tapping and a feeling of anxiety immediately eats you up whole. You were seriously starting to regret coming down here, what was the point other then to make Gojo jealous? You could’ve very well eaten in your office- and what you were doing was childish anyways.      You stood in the entrance way of the room, nervously fidgeting, eyes scanning for Keto Sugaeru amongst the faces that were starting to blend in. You can only vaguely remember how he looks like from the few visits he had made to Gojo’s office, jet black hair, usually tied in a bun, always a kind, yet careless smirk on his face. He was handsome, which would be a definitive beacon amongst the rather disgruntled looking office workers.     “Hey, are you gonna move or what? Blocking the damn way.”     You hear a gruff impatient voice behind you, and you twist around, stumbling with the newfound height of your high heels as you did so. A man’s eyes bored into your own, glaring at you with a mix of hatred and annoyance. You gulp, finding yourself unable to respond, instead averting your gaze to the floor meekly.    “You gonna talk? We don’t have all day, sheesh, they’re hiring anyone into the workforce nowadays huh-”      “I’m sorry- I uh, I’m r-really new here so...” modestly giving the man a kind smile, but he seemed to have no patience for you.     As if a divine being heard his rude comment and immediately swept down with some karma, a firm, large hand is placed onto the man’s shoulder that you hadn’t seen prior. It gripped the flesh tightly, and the mysterious man glared directly down at the now squeaking rude one.      “Did I hear that right?” is all he says, a few co-workers are twisting their heads towards the altercation, now you’re sweating bullets. You grip onto your lunch so tightly you’re afraid it might burst, and those incredibly long fingers of his are inching towards the stout man’s collar.     Eventually, the perplexing man smiles kindly, retracting his hands to his sides, now lifeless and slack. “Please, Nishima, refrain from picking on people. We don’t tolerate this in the office, and don’t be dumb enough to do it in front of someone who has direct connections to the Gojo family. Run along now, I’ll leave you off at a warning. You’re lucky I’m in a good mood.”     The man grumbled a few times, kicking at the floor before heading out, you turn your head to thank the man, looking at him with an admirable gaze, but you realize something-      He has the jet black long hair you were searching for before any of this happened, it’s tied up in a bun, and it looked ridiculously smooth and soft. Something you’d pay to drag your hands through and play with. He has that carefree grin displayed on his handsome features, shamelessly showing off his good looks. Tall, and he definitely had a familiar voice that took you a while to put a finger on it.     This had to be him.      “You frozen girlie? I haven’t seen you around in the lunch room- here go sit there, that seat’s super comfy.” he gestures to one chair, and you snap out of your trance, nodding in response, yet still unable to fully register what just happened to you.      “Sugaeru?” you blurt out, your eyes wide while stumbling like a just born fawn towards the spotless table. How good was your luck today? He came to you.      “Suguru.” he corrects, looking back at you, a teasing curve to his lips. “Holy, you completely butchered my name, I think I know you from somewhere-” for a second, he looks like he’s seriously thinking before he beams. “You’re Gojo’s secretary, Y/N, aren’t you? What brings you down here? Gojo told me that you’re usually reserved in your own little world and you do everything in your office.”      You stammer, still unable to believe your luck, but your shoulders are relaxing and the tension has completely evaporated into thin air. “Uh, yeah I’m Satoru’s secretary. I- Um, I wanted to... Get some water?” that was a horrible lie, even for you.      “Rookie mistake.” Suguru pulls out the aforementioned chair for you before walking to the other side of the table to place his lunch on the tabletop carefully. “Water here is super overpriced. You should bring some from your own house if that’s the case! Colleague to colleague, just don’t tell anyone I said that, or else I’ll get in trouble.” winking at you, he twists the lid to his container presumably holding his food, instantaneously a cloud of steam emerges and a delicious scent wafts through the room.     After a moment of silence between the two of you as you both opened your lunches, you clear your throat, meaning to make conversation. “Thank you for saving me back there.” sheepishly, you smile at him. “It’s really appreciated, I just couldn’t believe how rude a person could be, especially since u-uh... You know, he could’ve, like, just walked around me?” stuttering, you grab your utensils in an effort to look relaxed and comfortable, even though you had no idea how to speak to him.     “Atta girl, no problem.” he responds warmly. You feel safe in his shadow. “Hey, if your Gojo’s friend, you’re my friend. Don’t worry about it. I heard you’re new to the office.” he pauses, looking around the now bustling room before covering the sides of his mouth and whispering towards you. “Secretary position was open for a while because no sane person in Tokyo wants to be Gojo’s secretary.” sitting back down while snickering, he takes a bite out of his lunch.      Giggling, you finally ease up. As opposed to Gojo, Suguru’s more sincere and straight to the point. He’s funny in his own way without being obnoxious.      You scoff. “Yeah, I can see how anyone could go insane from working with the guy. It was the only good secretary position open, though...” you muse aloud.      Suguru crosses his arm over his chest, your eyes carefully surveying his attractive figure as he does so, a thoughtful smile on his face. “Well, imagine being friends with him for more than 15 years. I’m sure I’ve gotten a few screws loose.” he says suggestively, wriggling his eyebrows.      You cover your mouth, trying not to laugh- but it just spills out of your lips, and you forget that you just met the guy, that’s just how friendly he was. “Don’t say that!”      “What? It’s true!”     You didn’t quite know it just that, but a seed was planted that day- you and Geto’s relationship, and it would only blossom from there.  ‧₊˚✩彡.     Gojo’s paranoid.     It seems like there’s a secret that he’s not in on, he realizes that Geto’s visits to his office are growing more and more frequent, yet he spends less time at his office, rather, spends all of his time at yours. Feeling left out was never a positive emotion. In response, Gojo would increase his visiting between the two of you, “accidentally” walking in on the both of you casually chatting, but it’s like he’s a ghost in the room. He’d get a few lukewarm stares and a few polite greetings, but that was that.     He’s not sure if it’s jealousy, or what.      He knows he should be supportive of his best friend potentially getting a girlfriend, and he tries to be- but something about Geto and you together really pissed him off, he just doesn’t know why. Maybe it’s the way the pairing between you two seemed so natural, it would be almost sure that a relationship would occur soon that angered him. Having dating co-workers was almost never a good thing.      Deep down he knows that’s not it.      As the weeks past by, the visiting grew almost unbearable, hearing your laughter- your giggles- from jokes that weren’t from him was infuriating. Listening to the repetitive clicking of your heels down the stairs into the break room was driving him insane, and eventually he can’t even open an email or do anything involved with work. You and Geto were constantly on his mind, and he’s morbidly curious as to when the friendship occurred- or if it was possibly more than that.    His first attempt at getting to the bottom of things was bringing it up between the two of them, him and Geto, just as casual chit-chat, but it didn’t go exactly as planned.      Geto would have a sympathetic, almost mocking grin on his lips, but those eyes of his were telling enough. It was a whole other book of lust and need, for you. Brushing the topic off with a wave of dismissal, he’d chuckle and put a mask of friendliness on, but Gojo’s known Geto enough to see where this was going.      He couldn’t have this, everything was brought to him on a silver platter, so it was only natural for him to feel like he needs you, even if he didn’t. Perhaps you were another trophy to his endless collection to him, he just didn’t know. He’d never felt so strongly of a woman, much less his secretary, something was brewing inside of him.    One thing he doesn’t understand is why Geto. He’s flawless in appearance, restless, impossibly good at sex, why weren’t you stroking his ego? Whatever, this was another topic of conversation, what he needed to do now was win you back.     He calculated in his office the average time in which Geto would visit, music drowning out the muffled talking, and finally he’s ready and absolutely certain that this would be a good time to chat you up. Having everything planned out, an aura of confidence radiated from him.      “Y/N!” you hear a chirp from the door, lifting your head up in excitement, you realize it’s not your beloved Suguru, rather, it’s Gojo. Gluing your eyes back on your computer screen, not even bothering to peel them away, you clear your throat in acknowledgement. “Sir?”      A smug grin flickers across his face for just a second before he pulls out one of the chairs across from your desk, scooching it a bit further away for some extra leg room before promptly sitting down. “Knew you’d remember to call me sir, I knew I hired well when you stepped into the interview room, so sharp.”     You don’t detect a shred of sarcasm in his compliment, and finally you turn your gaze upon his face. This was certainly out of the ordinary for you, as he hadn’t visited as often with Geto in the picture now. Gojo’s not wearing the iconic black shades that concealed his cerulean eyes, now, they’re out for you- his private audience.     His eyes are brimming with energy and mischief, almost like a child’s. They’re transfixing, like diamonds handpicked and placed into his eyes. You’re overwhelmed from your work once again- a direct consequence of Gojo neglecting his own, yet something about this greeting reminded you of one of the first few times he had visited you, when he stole your carrot pen. Thus, causing you to direct your undivided attention towards him, he seemed promising, after all, what was the worst that could happen?     “That’s besides the point, Mr. Satoru. Is there any reason why you came here? I’m actually finishing up a report right now and the deadline is in two days.” taking your coffee mug up from it’s usual spot on the tabletop, you sigh in relief as the warm liquid goes down your throat and set it back down, anticipating his answer.     In usual fashion, Gojo chuckles good-heartedly. “It’s your fourth month anniversary you’ve been working here, or third, or second, fuck like I remember. This is a cause for celebration and you’re worrying about finishing up a report?”    “You’d know better then to come to me with an offer of slacking off if you knew my fourth month anniversary of working here was coming up.” you respond coolly.     His eyes slightly widen, before he lets out a dry chuckle. “Ah, I missed my sassy secretary, say, why don’t we celebrate? We can go out for a staff dinner in celebration. I’ll pay, no need to worry. It’ll be confidential information between the two of us.” tugging at his collar, he quirks an eyebrow, you’re visibly thinking.      “Does this imply you want this dinner to only be between the two of us? Why’s that?” you pry, a tinge of hesitance in your pitch.     Ah, shit. This was going off the tracks.     Gojo taking a hand to his chest defensively, he loudly announced, “It’s important to build a positive connection between the two of us! We’ll be working together for years to come, of course. So skeptical of you, why do you look so down?” the retort was cheeky, and good at that, as it left you speechless.     “I’m not sad, or anything-” you pause, your mind had gone blank. “I- Um... I-” attempting to return to your work instead, you give him a dirty look, but he stares back with such intensity you don’t know how to feel. “I’m doing work, don’t screw up my train of thought, please?”    “You definitely weren’t saying that when I offered to take you out to eat, come on, spit it out.” he tsks. Utterly defeated, you sigh.     “I wanted to invite someone.” you spit out, obviously embarrassed.     Gojo pretends to act shocked, before excitedly inquiring, “And who might that be?”     “G-Geto.” there was no point in lying now.    He oohs, looking down at your shaking hands and back up at your face. “Ooooh, Y/N has a crush on my best bud? Who woulda thought!?”    Your cheeks going warm, you shake your head furiously. “No I don’t! I- Mr. S- Sir! This is so unprofessional of you!” stuttering, you drop your head on the desk, arms pillowing the sides of your head and groaning.     “How cute. Anyways, you accept that dinner date?”     You lift your head back up, sniffling. “It’s not a date!”    Giving you a shit-eating grin again, his eyes twinkle. “Oh, but it is.”    “I- Aghhhhh!” putting your head back down on the desk, this time without your arms, you don’t know how to respond, so instead you make a mockery of yourself.    Laughing, Gojo decides not to tease and you and instead says, “Meet me in Shibuya district, there’s a super nice restaurant, I’ll drive to your house, no need to worry about transportation. 9 PM, see you there!” his voice grew more distant down the hallway, you can still hear the clicking of his shoes and his deep humming.     So you had a date tonight,     Now how would that go?

[marginalgloss]

It occurred to me recently that I haven’t posted here for about nine months, and that if you knew nothing about me except for this blog, you might think that it something of a cliffhanger that I ended it on a post about expecting the arrival of my first child. (Or perhaps that would have been an entirely fitting way to end it.) Either way: I am fine, and we are fine, and last November brought the arrival of my son Robin into my life. I have been very busy almost every day since.

There are a couple of cliches about parenting that remain indisputably true. The first is that they grow up so fast. And the second is that nothing prepares you for it. We thought we were entirely ready and pretty well informed but from his delivery onwards nothing went as planned. We thought we’d feed him when he was hungry, and we’d put him to sleep when he was tired; and change his nappies, and play with him, and love him; and what else was there to it, really?

It turns out there is a lot more to it than that. Before Robin I never realised how polarised, how strained and how political people’s feelings are about matters of childcare. We’ve ended up raising him in ways we had never previously considered, partly out of necessity, and partly out of the kind of habits that grow into paths of desire across the days. Consciously or not I judge people who do things differently, and no doubt they judge me too. In spite of the reams of available literature it turns out that for many things — perhaps even most things — there isn’t necessarily a right or a wrong way to proceed.

Here is a third cliche that turns out to be extremely valuable: every baby is different.

The question of literature is a tricky one. In search of assistance I read a few parenting manuals; some of these turned out to be better than others, but I’ve yet to find a good book about what it means to be a father. Most books aimed at new dads are of the ‘pull your socks up’ variety — the kind of thing where the author imagined it thrust upon some feckless deadbeat by a weary spouse. But, being reasonably conscientious, and looking for something with a bit more depth than a guide to how to change nappies, I’ve found most books about parenting have little of interest to say to new fathers.

Being a dad is an odd thing to write about. I’ve read and heard people talk about how new mothers ought to be proud to be joining a kind of grand universal maternal tradition, one which predates even humanity itself. (Animals surely know about babies; witness my cat Louie’s endless patience with Robin’s various attempts to pull his ears off.)

People do not generally talk about the grand traditions of fatherhood in this way. And for good reason: a lot of men today wouldn’t be happy to follow the example of their own fathers, let alone imitate the conditions of detachment and distance that defined fatherhood for centuries. I want to say that expectations of fathers today have never been higher; but this is only because for most of recorded history, we had no expectations of fathers at all. In the space of perhaps two or three generations we have gone from the idea that a father should only have to provide for a child’s upkeep (and not slap them around too much) to a very immediate understanding of dadhood as a central plank of parenthood.

Perhaps a lot of this speaks more to my own insecurities than it does to anyone else’s. Still, I feel like there’s an easy camaraderie between mothers that isn’t apparent between fathers. My wife has developed a little circle of local mums with whom she’s in constant communication, whereas the WhatsApp group we created for the fathers in our NCT group has languished in silence. I don’t really have anyone with whom to compare notes. And what would we say if I did?

The pandemic has put us in an unusual situation. Ordinarily I would have had two weeks’ paid paternity leave, plus any holiday time taken alongside that. So I took three weeks off work — but I’m still working from home every day, as I have been since March 2020. This means that instead of watching me disappear to work five days a week, my son has spent every day of his life together so far with both his parents. I don’t even know where to begin with writing about the way this has changed us; perhaps I won’t know how to talk about it until it comes to an end.

It does mean that parenting feels like it has consumed my life in ways that might not have otherwise been the case. Being at home for so long with a new baby was a remarkable opportunity, and in the early days — through winter and the Christmas lockdown — it didn’t feel like I was missing out on much. Things are a little different now. Every absence independent from my family feels like it requires a negotiation as much with myself as with anyone else. And I don’t only mean literal absences. Someone new has come into my life and they have no tolerance for anything else that might be meaningful to me. So many of the things against which I used to define myself have necessarily had to be neglected.

It goes without saying that I haven’t written much. Whatever free time I have at the moment is normally spent collapsed in an exhausted heap on the sofa, watching TV. I can count the number of books I’ve actually finished in the last eight months on one hand; I have started and set aside perhaps two dozen. I feel very remote from the person who spent several years documenting here every book he finished.

Games have fared a little better. In the early days, when I found myself with some late night hours to myself, I picked up the remastered Bioshock collection. It took me months, but I eventually finished all three: the first game is a masterpiece, the second is a very decent sequel, and the third is probably the greatest missed opportunity in all of gaming. (I ended up writing several thousands of words about the games, over the course of weeks — the only thing of substance I’ve written since Robin was born, in fact — which I since abandoned, in a fit of self-doubt and impatience with my own tortuous style.)

But I mean it when I say that the first game is a masterpiece. I had forgotten just how immensely absorbing it is — a journey into another world that’s less realistic than it is gloriously theatrical. Every time I think about it I feel like I want to replay it again. And it never really occurred to me before that Bioshock is about parenting as much as it is a picture of Objectivism in decay. It hits different now, as the kids say.

While driving over the weekend I passed the word ‘DADDY’ outlined in rich pink flowers, laid in memorial at the centre of a roundabout. It made me flinch. Every time I see that word in whatever context it seems to come with an intimation of departure. And in the same way every time I think about this game it seems laden with the feeling of a dying fall that nobody ever really seems to talk about. You play as a kind of genetically modified clone, returning home to his unwelcoming father and near-absent mother in a demented inversion of the Odysseus tale; and the only good you can do in this world is to rescue the handful of innocents left within it. You have to become a father yourself, in a sense. But your days are numbered.

The ending of the original Bioshock is often written off as a bit of a joke. You fight a deliriously incongruous final boss, and then depending on your actions through the rest of the game, you get to see one of two final sequences. In the bad ending, the denizens of Rapture somehow steal a nuclear submarine, and it’s implied that something very bad follows. But the good ending has more to it than that. You return to the surface, and it’s implied that you adopt some of the Little Sisters you rescued down there as though they were your daughters. There’s a brief montage of scenes from an assortment of lives. A graduation. A marriage. A child reaching for a parent’s hand. And then a death bed. The hands of your daughters reach out for you one last time.

After perhaps twenty hours of gameplay this sequence is perhaps less than a minute long. It feels rushed, awkward, sentimental. But as a coda, it also has the outstanding benefit of being perfectly real.

[ceoofuwu]

𝐔𝐍𝐁𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐃𝐒 ;; 𝘮𝘪𝘺𝘢 𝘢𝘵𝘴𝘶𝘮𝘶 𝘹 𝘧.𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒: 𝟐.𝟏𝐤

𝐀/𝐍: so, this is the first Atsumu scenario! I'd literally give up my life for this man, I CAN'T HOLD BACK. Tho it turned out quite dark... I guess I made amends for it with the happy note in the end, then?

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒: living with the Miya twins definitely means throwing party every once in a while and painting the town red... but what if, just once, things spiral out of control?

𝐓.𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ content ahead; mentions of sexual intercourse, unwanted/non-planned pregnancy, cursing. Suggestive themes.

Another wave of nausea washed over your body, making your guts twist with the unpleasant feeling of food hastily gushing out of your body.

You arrested your head further buried in the toilet, hands clutched tightly around the sides, mind flooding with hazy memories of last night’s events, as a stamp of warmth came in contact with your back.

  Sloppy, heated kisses along the sensitive area of your neck were sending shivers through your entire body, which was being ravished by pleasure.

«Come on, baby…» he whispered against your ear, your lobe caught between his teeth, «I’ll be gentle».

  Atsumu rubbed soothing circles on the broad surface of your back, crouched beside your weakened figure, the warmness of his palm eager to drive your fatigue away.

You had been sharing a home with him and his brother for quite some time now, the latter merely staying to keep you company and lend a hand with the loan. Showered with independence as you were, throwing parties every now and then was only natural. However, it wasn’t always completely kept under control.

«Drank too much, didn’t you?» he asked softly, worryingly, while his hand came to gently wipe your mouth with a small-sized towel he had fetched.

«I doubt I drank as much as you did, Tsumu…» you sighed, «… but I still don’t think that’s the proble—« your statement was cut off by your body pushing up another round of fluids.

   Your back arched at the intolerable amount of rapture that was shaking your entire being, «M-more…! Atsumu…!»

«More?» he smirked, looking at you with devilish eyes then throwing your legs over his broad shoulders and thrusting even more forcefully this time, his bare cock hitting spots in depths it had never been before.

   He remained silent the whole time, standing by your side, lightly pulling your hair back and continuing to soothe you with his rubbing patterns, his heart aching at the sight of your body completely cleaning itself out, leaving you fully worn out in its wake.

You lifted yourself slowly, making sure there was no other round coming then snatched the towel out of Atsumu’s hands hastily and wiped the stains of puke clean.

«You were saying…?» he asked, his eyes carefully following your movements to the sink, where you rinsed your mouth out.

«I don’t think it’s only drinking that got me like this…»

«What do you mean?»

«You weren’t particularly cautious last night…»

   You were a complete and utter mess by now; body coated in sweat, quaking with overwhelming ecstasy, burning with the need for more friction, for the touch of your lover, who was mercilessly pounding in and out of you, gaining momentum with every push.

You could feel him twitching inside of you, meaning he was close to his peak, so you were already preparing for the pull out but, with a loud, lengthy groan against your clavicle, you only felt a new-found kind of warmth spreading inside of you instead.

«You feel so damn good baby…» he croaked, burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breaths tickling the sensitive area, while he was gradually climbing down from his high.

What with all those surges of bliss washing over you and the influence of alcohol you were under, you didn’t care as much as to realize the severity of what had just happened.

  «You don’t mean…» his voice trailed off, amber eyes widening with surprising realization.

The grave shadow cast upon his face was gone with a mere shrug of his shoulders.

«I do. There’s a high chance, Atsumu».

«I guess we’ll have a little brat crawling around the house in a few months then» he chuckled.

This was one of the few times in your life when you actually couldn’t believe in your ears. He couldn’t be talking seriously. He was deadpanning. Could he be that childish?

«Are you even in your right mind?! Do you happen to have even the slightest idea how serious this is?! What responsibilities it requires?!» you shouted, taking aggressive steps towards him, «How are we supposed to raise a child when you can barely fend for ourselves?» your index daringly poked his chest, look glowing with fury, «What makes you think I’d even want a child growing inside of me, huh?» you spurted out, words dripping with the bitter truth.

«We’re not even 100% sure you’re pregnant» he replied calmly, not allowing the burden of guilt weigh down on him.

«So you’re just going to hang onto a possibility? Is this your way of self-defense?» your tone stayed high on decibels, continuously shooting the blonde with arrows of qualm, but triggering his anger simultaneously.

His thick eyebrows came to a frown, a dark hue of irritation cloaking his face, blood boiling with rage. Deep down, he was well aware of the fact that he had been careless and therefore brought by this outcome, but at the same time he wanted to explode. All this unwavering accusation made him see red; and he didn’t particularly excel at his keeping his temper in check.

He didn’t care about neither your reaction nor the impact his words would have on your already heated argument because he honestly needed anything to fire back, when he spat out:

«It’s not my fault you can’t control what’s going in and out of your cunt».

SLAP!

Your palm clashed with the tender skin of his cheek, the sound of skin finding skin echoing in the empty room. At that point, you genuinely believed that there was no other way to back fire him; he had completely crushed your defenses with that mere line of his. Your heart was shattered to thousand pieces, like a fragile piece of glass thrown madly at the floor.

However, you still had some remaining strength for a finishing blow.

«I should have seen this coming. You always run away from your responsibilities, like the immature toddler you are. You don’t give a fuck about other people’s feelings, do you? All you care about is to feed and satisfy your own, insatiable ego!» you yelled, coming to realize that there are actual tears streaming down your face, but not minding at all the reason for their appearance, «…because that’s just what you are, Atsumu. An immature, egotistical pig».

His almond-shaped eyes widened in shock his body aching with the sensation of something having pierced through his chest. He wanted to yell, curse, break—no, destroy something. His madness was getting the better of him but even so, he somehow stopped dead on his tracks upon hearing that cruel utterance. His stare travelled on your form, inspecting your exhausted state, pity feeling him to the brim. Was this really what you thought of him? Was he truly the one that had you messed up like this?

His thoughts were interrupted by the sudden opening of the bathroom’s door. His twin brother walked in, wearing an expression of confusion and worry as his grey orbs fell on you.

«I can hear you screaming from the living room… is everything… o… kay? Why are you—« his gaze immediately pinned his brother, «--why is she crying?» he demanded.

Atsumu lowered his head in shame, glancing down at his feet, desperately struggling to avoid his brother’s uncomfortably scrutinizing look. One the one hand he had no clue how he was supposed to explain the situation, but on the other, he couldn’t exactly step back from it.

«Ιt’s… none of your business…» he murmured.

«I don’t think he heard you, Atsumu.           Speak up a little. Tell him how your stupid, little ass fucked everything up again».

«What is she talking about, Tsumu?» Osamu’s facial expression was died in puzzlement, «Talk!»

«…you might become an uncle» he muttered reluctantly between gritted teeth.

«What?!» his look hopped between the two of you impatiently, not landing on anyone in particular.

Of course he was taken aback. How could he not be? Atsumu can be reckless from time to time yet, that seemed too surrealistic even for a person that knew him so well.

You were quite lost in your own concerns, which prevented you from noticing that Osamu had hastily and offensively grabbed him by the collar of his shirt, shaking him furiously.

«I always knew you were a stupid and annoying brother but I was hoping you’d be at least tolerable as a boyfriend!» he shouted in the other twin’s face, knuckles whitening at the tightness of his grip.

You’d usually laugh your heart out whenever the twins were fighting but this time the ambiance was too intense to allow even the slightest curl in your lips.

«We don’t even know if she’s accurately pregnant, you asshole! She hasn’t had a fucking test yet!» Atsumu roared back in exasperation.

Osamu’s features were completely painted with a mixture of bewilderment and realization, «She hasn’t?» his peek drifted to you and you shook your head in the negative.

«Well then…» he let go of his brother with a push, «…I’ll be back» he spoke, turning to leave the room.

«Where the hell are you going?»

«Where you should have gone from the beginning».

Thanks to Osamu, a light smile made its way to your lips. However, it was swiftly taken away by Atsumu’s murderous, disgusted glare. You answered to it with an identical one, not wanting to show him how much your heart was practically broken by that moment.

When he finally walked out of the bathroom, you made sure to lock the door he had harshly slammed behind him, before your body automatically slid against it, eventually collapsing on the floor

«Ugh, why does it take so freaking long?» you whined silently above the pregnancy test.

Before you knew it, your already pallid face was stained with tears once more, your hands rushing to cover your mouth and muffle your perpetual sobs as you succumbed entirely to the pain that was nested in your chest, waves of dejection, wrath and numbness hitting you relentlessly and unstoppably, letting you solely rot into the melancholy of anticipation….

Thankfully, Osamu had came back mere minutes ago with five tests in his hands, all of them produced by the same company. You explained that there was no need for so many, but seemed like Samu had quite freaked out so he couldn’t help himself. You had hastily snatched the tests and run off to the bathroom again, not paying to attention to what Atsumu was doing.

You would deal with him later, either way.

«Don’t be positive, don’t be positive…»

For about ten minutes straight, you were running conspiracies in your mind, attempting to calculate every possible outcome. If Atsumu was indeed the father of your child, then that… made also Osamu a dad? They’re literally the split image of each other so be it biological or adoptive father would practically make no difference. Which meant that if Osamu had kids—

«Are you… alright in here?» the door opened ajar and a familiar head slightly, almost timidly, protruded.

«Oh, now big, scary Atsumu isn’t mad?» you jibed.

Atsumu slid in, gently closing the door behind him and heading towards you.

«Look, I…» his eyes moved to the floor, afraid to encounter yours, «…I didn’t mean what I said… really, I uh…» you failed to suppress a light giggle at his miserable attempt to swallow his pride, «…I’m sorry, okay? Stop mocking me! And I’ll take care of our child…! If we have one, I mean…» you glanced at the test one more time to see if anything had changed and your eyes widened in surprise.

«Atsumu».

«…and I’ll do anything, I’ll cook even without setting the kitchen on fire I—«

«Atsumu!»

“Just don’t be mad at me okay? I’ll even change the baby—«

«ATSUMU!» you yelled, also making awkward hand signals that made no sense to earn his attention.

«What?»

«You won’t have to change any baby! Nor take care of it!»

He lifted his eyebrow in confusion, «We are getting a babysitter?»

«There’s no baby you idiot! I’m not pregnant! I’m not---« a silent sob cut off your sentence.

«Hey, wait, why are you crying?» Atsumu’s hand rested on your flushed cheek, his thumb swiping away a tear that came unbidden on your beautiful face.

«I don’t… know…» you spoke weakly and then immediately dived in his arms, clutching him to the point of asphyxia and probably clawing his back, while burying your wet face on his chest, where you were bawling your eyes out.

«It’s over now baby…» he whispered, planting a soft kiss on the crown of your head and rubbing soothing patterns on your back, «…take it all out».

Deep down, there was still a lingering ray of hope praying that you had actually that unbidden seed inside of you… it wouldn’t be catastrophic…

Hope you enjoyed! Leave a heart, comment, reblog! 💕

[mikauzoran]

Lukadrien: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen

@lukadrien-june

Read it on AO3: Your Hands Hold Home: Chapter Seventeen: Broken Families

“Sup, G Flat,” Xavier-Yves greeted as he descended the stairs into the main cabin of the Liberty.

Adrien grimaced but mentally reminded himself to be nice for Luka’s sake.

“Hi, XY. Luka’s actually not here right now. He’s out with the Capitaine, and I don’t think they’ll be back soon,” he informed, hoping that that would be the end of his exposure to the popstar for the day.

XY shrugged, taking a seat on the opposite limb of the L-shaped couch from Adrien.

“That’s okay,” XY assured as he made himself comfortable, spreading out like a starfish and pulling his laptop out of his bag. “You probably don’t know this because you’re still pretty new here, but I have the okay to just kick it here whenever I want.”

Adrien nodded, internally cursing his lot in life. “I see. That’s cool.”

“Yeppers,” Xavier-Yves agreed, barely paying Adrien any mind as he started up his audio editing program.

Adrien set aside the book he’d borrowed from Luka, seeing that he wasn’t going to get any more reading done in XY’s presence.

“How long do you think you’ll hang out?” Adrien inquired, trying to sound interested rather than rude and impatient for Xavier-Yves to leave.

XY shrugged. “I dunno. Maybe a couple hours? Probably until this evening.”

Adrien mentally swore.

“I’m hiding from my dad,” XY added voluntarily.

Adrien frowned. “Why?”

XY clicked his tongue. “He’s trying to set me up with some actress. You know. For publicity and all that.”

Adrien shuddered. “My father made me do that a couple times. I’ve always hated that kind of thing.”

“Dude, I know!” XY exclaimed, looking up from his computer screen. “Sucks, right?!”

Adrien nodded. “I mean, some of the girls were okay, and I may have even been able to like one or two of them in earnest if we’d met more naturally and it had been our decision to date, but…those arrangements are so staged. I always resented them as just one more thing Father was making me do against my will and completely ignoring my wishes about.”

“Tch. Yeah,” Xavier-Yves scoffed. “Trust me. I hear you.”

Just as suddenly as the conversation started, it ended, and XY seemed to go back to his laptop.

Adrien gave his book a sidelong look, debating whether to take it up to the deck to continue reading in peace.

Before he could come to a decision, XY broke back into Adrien’s thoughts.

“…So…you’re bi or what?”

Adrien gave a start. “What?”

“You said you could have liked some of the girls your dad made you date,” XY explained, “but I always thought you had a thing for Luka…so are you bi or in denial or what?”

Adrien stared at his love rival for a moment, trying to determine whether he should be affronted by XY’s abrupt demands for personal information.

Xavier-Yves looked at Adrien expectantly with seemingly no malice or agenda hidden behind his words.

It was then that Adrien remembered what Luka had told him about XY’s penchant for coming across as rude due to his lack of normal socialization—something Adrien could, unfortunately, relate to.

Adrien decided to take XY’s question in good faith and answered, “I think I’m probably bi.”

XY cocked an eyebrow. “What do you mean you think you’re bi? Isn’t that something you just know?”

Adrien shifted uncomfortably under Xavier-Yves’s scrutiny. “I think it’s confusing because the media really only shows men and women ending up with one another, so that’s how I thought it had to be when I was growing up. I didn’t realize guys were actually an option until later, and I’ve mostly just been interested in girls so far. I mean, I can tell if a guy is attractive, but Luka’s the only guy I’ve ever been attracted to in practice, not just in theory.”

XY blinked several times, trying to parse Adrien’s response. “…So…you’re bi?”

“At least as far as Luka’s concerned,” Adrien confirmed with a shrug.

“You make my head hurt,” XY announced. “You’re just thinking about it too much.”

“Maybe,” Adrien chuckled, musing that XY might have accidentally stumbled upon the truth.

Xavier-Yves shook his head. “I’ve always known I was gay. I never even looked at girls as a kid.”

Adrien’s eyes widened. “I-I’m sorry. I always assumed you were bi. Well…after I found out about your feelings for Luka, anyway. Until then, I thought you were straight.”

XY rolled his eyes and waved dismissively. “That’s because my dad says I have to stay in the closet.”

Adrien’s jaw descended several centimeters. “He what?”

XY nodded, setting his laptop aside and angling more towards Adrien. “My dad says that gay doesn’t sell and that all of my fangirls will stop buying my music and coming to concerts if they find out I only like dudes, so I can’t tell anyone I’m gay.”

Adrien blinked dumbly, finding himself wondering if his own father would react similarly if he found out about Adrien being queer. A lot of people in fashion were, so maybe it wouldn’t be a big deal, but…somehow, Adrien got the feeling that Gabriel would probably prefer it if Adrien kept that fact to himself and found a nice female partner.

“…I’m sorry,” Adrien mumbled, suddenly seeing past the annoying, inconvenient aspects of XY to the very real person with problems and feelings and dreams underneath.

XY shrugged. “Is what it is. Just don’t you go tellin’ people.”

“I would never do that,” Adrien was quick to assure.

XY gave a snort as he nodded. “Good.”

“…So…you’re not allowed to date?” Adrien inquired, morbid curiosity getting the best of him.

XY shook his head. “Nah. Dad would flip. It’s okay, though. I’ve never been really into anyone before, so it was, like, whatever.”

Adrien’s eyebrow arched. “What about Luka? You seem pretty into him.”

“Luka’s different,” Xavier-Yves confirmed with a passionate punch to the words. “He’s the one, you know?”

Adrien dropped his gaze, wilting slightly because he knew that fact all too well.

“I’d come out, if he wanted me to,” XY continued. “I don’t know. Luka’s kind of quiet and private, so I don’t know if he’d want to make it all public, but he’d at least want to tell his friends who he was seeing, so it would get out there eventually. I wouldn’t care, though. He’s worth it.”

“You really care about him a lot,” Adrien whispered.

“You bet I do,” XY insisted. “You know how annoying and dumb I am.”

Adrien’s head jerked up at the blatant self-deprecation.

“Not a lot of people like me. A lot of people pretend to because they want something, but they don’t actually like me,” XY snorted.

Adrien suddenly felt a chill at hearing circumstances that so closely echoed his own.

“Luka didn’t like me at first, and he had a good excuse not to, but instead of telling me to get lost when I came to ask him to teach me about loving music, he put up with me,” XY recounted with a soft look of gratitude and affection in his placid blue eyes.

“He was really patient, and he taught me and helped me be a better person. My dad taught me a lot of bad things.” His eyes dropped to the floor as he confessed his past shortcomings. “I didn’t know they were bad until Luka told me so…so I owe him a lot. I’d do anything for him.”

Adrien nodded passively, averting his gaze as he wondered if Luka wouldn’t be better off with XY than himself.

Xavier-Yves could give Luka fortune and industry contacts, and while “Roth” wasn’t the most well-liked surname in Paris, it was worlds ahead of “Agreste” which had become synonymous with “dirt” a month previously when Papillon’s identity had been revealed.

Maybe Adrien should step aside romantically and focus on being a good, supportive friend to Luka.

“I’d do anything for him,” Xavier-Yves repeated solemnly, “…even if that meant bowing out and supporting his happiness with you.”

Adrien’s head jerked up again, and he gaped at XY in disbelief. “What?”

XY shrugged. “The most important thing is that Luka is happy, yeah?”

Adrien nodded, still not understanding. “Yes. Absolutely. But…what does that have to do with me?”

XY shook his head. “You’re important to him. We’re both really important to him. I can’t tell you how many times he’s asked me to try to play nice with you these past few weeks because he wants us both in his life, and he wants us all to get along.”

Adrien’s lips rounded into a small “o”.

XY nodded. “I want him to be happy. Even if you win, I want him to be happy, so I’m gonna try to be friends with you because it’s important to Luka.”

Adrien slowly began to nod. “Okay. I can’t promise I’ll ever really like you much, but I’m going to tolerate you for Luka’s sake. So, let’s make this work, okay?”

“Deal,” XY agreed with a wide grin, holding out his fist to Adrien for a fist bump.

Chuckling, Adrien leaned forward and touched his fist to XY’s.

“…So,” Xavier-Yves remarked after the moment had passed. “Wanna watch a movie or something?”

Adrien shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”

“How good’s your English?” XY asked, grabbing his laptop and opening up his video library.

“Not fluent, but I should be able to watch a movie without subtitles,” Adrien replied, moving to sit next to Xavier-Yves.

XY looked up at Adrien and tipped his head to the side. “You ever heard of Abbott and Costello?”

Adrien frowned, searching his memory banks. “…The comedy duo?”

XY nodded enthusiastically, a wide grin quickly spreading from one cheek to the other. “They’re super dope. You’ll love them. Let’s watch In Society. It’s got one of my favourite routines.”

“All right,” Adrien easily agreed, reasoning that he owed it to Luka and himself to make an effort. “Sounds good.”

 A little over an hour later, Luka returned to find Adrien and Xavier-Yves in a pile on the couch, leaning on one another to keep themselves upright as they chortled, “He’s not dead, Lady! He’s hiding!”

“I see you showed him Abbott and Costello?” Luka remarked, announcing his presence.

XY pushed himself up to grin adoringly at Luka. “Yeah. We were just thinking about watching another. Wanna join us?”

“Sure,” Luka chuckled, coming around to their side of the couch.

Adrien scooted over to make room for Luka between himself and XY.

“After all, it’s not every day that two of my best friends are able to spend time together without wanting to kill one another. We should do something to celebrate,” Luka reasoned.

“We’re not that bad. We just…verbally snipe at each other sometimes,” Adrien giggled, quickly snuggling up to Luka at exactly the same moment XY wrapped his arm around Luka’s shoulders.

“Yeah,” XY seconded. “The only friend of yours I want to kill is that Jacob loser.”

Luka groaned, rolling his eyes.

Adrien lifted his head to look around Luka at Xavier-Yves. “Jacob?”

XY nodded. “That bassist in his band. He’s Luka’s ex.”

Adrien quirked an eyebrow. “We can’t be civil with Luka’s exes?”

XY’s eyes narrowed. “Jacob’s one of the four he slept with.”

“Oh,” Adrien replied flatly, his opinion abruptly changing.

“Yeah. Those ones are dead to me,” Xavier-Yves snorted.

“Can we not talk about my love life?” Luka sighed, tipping his head back to stare up at the ceiling. “It’s really not that interesting. Let’s watch the movie.”

XY clicked his tongue. “I beg to be different. I am super interested in the people you’ve slept with.”

“Prune,” Luka groaned. “Drop it. I’ve been the adult in this household since I was ten. I’m allowed to sleep with whomever my little demi heart loves.”

“Would you sleep with me?” XY wondered curiously.

Luka’s cheeks flushed as he pointedly avoided Xavier-Yves’s gaze. “No comment.”

“Would you sleep with him?” XY pressed, jabbing a finger at Adrien.

Luka choked on air, making a wheezing sound of distress.

“No comment,” he managed with some effort.

“How about a threesome?” Xavier-Yves suggested amicably.

Adrien burst out laughing, snuggling in closer.

“For the love of whatever you hold sacred, start the movie already before I strangle you,” Luka pleaded.

“I could be into that,” XY replied, waggling his eyebrows.

Luka threw his hands up in the air, exclaiming, “Aaaaah!”

This caused Adrien to laugh even harder.

XY joined in.

[retvenkos]

“this world isn’t ready for us”

requested

HOW I IMAGINE THE BASICS OF THE  MARAUDER ERA HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS…

James Potter

hogwarts years 1971-1978

james potter is indian, you cannot convince me otherwise

he has the greatest hair ever - it’s black and fluffy, and even though his father literally invented hair products, he doesn’t style it

it just naturally falls in a really beautiful way and sirius hates it

james potter is left handed, you cannot convince me otherwise

he always has smudges all over his hand and he’ll wipe the ink on remus’ face when he wants to be annoying

he’s 5′11″ (180 cm) and he had the majority of his growth spurt in his third year

he was awkward and gangly all year, and that mixed with his new crush on lily was hell in a handbasket

he eventually filled out, though, and by 5th year he wore it well

he had big round glasses because without them he’s blinder than a bat

he also  n e v e r  wore his tie - mcgonagall hated it more than anything and she would always fix his tie (with magic!) in class

she would also lecture him in that mom™ way

lily laughed at him one time because the end of the tie hit him in the face and that’s when james realized he loved the sound

also, most people have this idea that james was suave and flirted with lily all the time, but i disagree

he was an awkward mess when talking to girls and would make the most corny jokes, hoping lily would laugh

he only got good at flirting in his seventh year, after a summer of sirius teaching him how to be cool

but talking with his mates, james was an arrogant idiot.

but always respectful.

he was really good at transfiguration but absolutely terrible when it came to potions

also, i know he’s canonically an only child, but i think he has a younger sibling - probably a sister. he just has the older brother vibes. adopting his friends the way he did? only an older sibling, mom friend would ever.

Remus Lupin

hogwarts years 1971-1978

so i’ve already covered a lot about remus here but i’ll go off again

so i like to think that remus is secretly really good at drawing

we all took him for a writer but i am adamant in the idea that sirius is the poet, not him.

he can also do calligraphy - the writing on the marauders map was all him, fam

he’s also ambidextrous or at the very least able to use both hands pretty well

he’s definitely the tallest of all the marauders, coming in at a whopping 6′3″ (190.5 cm)

he was always lanky, too. james swore that one day he would be taller than remus, but it never happened

and i know we all like to think of remus as being the most studious child there ever was, but honestly,,, he was struggling every day and the reason he was constantly doing homework was because he was chronically behind in school work

i’m talking like at least a week out at all times

of course, the teachers knew why, and so they allowed him some slack, but still, he had the same expectations

but he was interested in most of his classes, and he worked on all of them equally

i think how he and lily met was that he needed a tutor because he was behind and she offered to help him

he just generally has this sad air around him, too

it was kind of a thing that he and snape shared for a while - two sad boys who were desperate to prove they belonged

and then, in their later years, they both take very different routes

oh, and because i haven’t said it enough, i love the idea of latino!remus lupin

and he could be bilingual!!!!

Sirius Black

hogwarts years 1971-1978

okay, here. is. the. thing. sirius is average height. i cannot emphasize this enough. i always see things about him being tall, but you are incorrect. he’s not super short, but he’s  a v e r a g e .

5′8″ (173 cm)

that’s still pretty good.

and while he can whine about how short he is, he is the most handsome out of all of the marauders

he has that regal look that makes his so attractive.

if he had an awkward phase, hogwarts never saw it. sirius just always looked really good.

and he did everything else to make himself look as chaotic as he could

he never once wore his school uniform correctly.

there were always buttons undone, ties pulled loose, shoe laces untied

and he acted chaotic, too

laughing overly loud

making unnecessary comments

every day he tried his hardest to be everything that his mother never let him be

as for classes, he’s one of those kids who is naturally gifted in everything (you can thank his mother for drilling him in the years prior to hogwarts) and just really doesn’t care that he has a natural aptitude

the only class he got really excited about was dada

also, i’ve seen the idea that he’s a womanizer be a thing, but,,, no?

i mean, he definitely flirts (most of the time jokingly) because it’s just another thing that can make his family upset and separate him from that image, but i don’t think he’s especially promiscuous

he’s literally a kid, guys

oh, and with every passing day, the lily and sirius friendship goes glaringly underdeveloped and it pains me - they could have been so close to each other but we just sleep on that, i guess

Peter Pettigrew

hogwarts years 1971-1978

so i get why fanon leaves peter underdeveloped, but he was important

first of all, peter is the same height as sirius 5′8″ (173 cm) and the two of them constantly argue over who is taller

they are also constantly aiming short jokes at the other, even though they are the same height??? they’re just insulting themselves.

at the very least, peter is a half-blood (i think he might have been muggleborn but then why would voldemort tolerate him, y’know?)

i like to think that he is really in touch with his muggle side - he and remus talk about muggle stuff all the time and play jokes on sirius and james who are oblivious but want to learn

peter was also really good at finding secret passages

he found the better part of the ones on the map, and maybe he knows about a few others, too

he was definitely the cartographer of the marauders map. who else would have had the skill?

he was definitely more awkward like james, and he never quite grew out of it like the rest of them

but it was okay, because his friends were fiercely loyal to him

even if it screwed them over in the end...

i also have this idea that peter was really good at games? like, gobstones and chess were his area of expertise

it’s definitely something that he would do with the other marauders when they were stressed out or sad

and he would sneak them food from the kitchens and they would just sit up and play games for a while

i think that peter was also that marauder that would check their schedules, seeing what classes they had together, and which ones they could all bail on to hang out in the forbidden forest

i also think that peter was a huge music enthusiast

he and james definitely talked about music a lot - he took james to his first concert and it was really precious

james would sing at any an all times, and peter would know all of the lyrics, singing more quietly but supplying all the words.

Lily Evans

hogwarts years 1971-1978

lily was a nervous wreck in her first year of hogwarts

but also vvv excited - she wanted to learn everything

she had a natural talent for dada and was also pretty good at potions, thanks to snape being her bff

she struggled when it came to history of magic because, y’know, she’s brand new to all of it

lily had really long, beautiful red hair ever since her first year

and, of course, those eyes

she was always very pretty, but she also got a lot of hatred because she was a muggleborn, so she struggled with herself - especially in the later years

i imagine she’s average height or maybe a little tall, definitely not short, since harry was his dad’s height

probably 5′5″ (165 cm)

also, lily was the one who gave harry all of his sass

she definitely was the one to sass james (who loved it, despite being taken aback the first few times) and she was very adamant in her beliefs

she loved her friends more than anything, of course, but she would put her foot down when she had to

i also feel like lily was a thrill seeker

it’s why she and james got along in their seventh year when they were head boy and head girl together

he probably showed her secret passages or shortcuts to places and she couldn’t bring herself to reprimand him

she’s also a little impatient

she always sips at her tea too soon, burning her tongue

or she’s tapping her foot five minutes before class ends because she’s raring to go

she also walks fast

Severus Snape

hogwarts years 1971-1978

so snape’s biggest thing is that he will not be the small fish in the big pond - he will not be picked on

and so that has screwed up some of his relationships because he will do anything to not be the last kid picked

this also means that his loyalty is only with himself (and lily, previously, but when it was him or her that had to take the fall, it was her) so he’s definitely a lone wolf

i think his slow way of talking didn’t manifest until he was in his sixth year

it was a way to be calculating - see how people react to what he’s going to say before he says it

he was definitely a wide-eyed kid

really big, sad eyes that would have made anyone feel bad for him

they went away during the end of his third year and beginning of his fourth

he traded it for pushing his head down, not allowing anyone to look him in the eye

snape was definitely a book nerd, and he used to spend all of his time in the library with lily

but after the marauders started hanging out in there (thanks, remus and lily), he had to find a new place

he wore his robes properly, and with a lot of care since he was pretty poor growing up and he was determined to wear them as long as he could

that’s where a lot of his formal aesthetic came from

also, it was a stark contrast to the marauders - where they were carefree he was uptight, where they were informal he was not. the recipe for disaster.

also, he was pretty short up until his fifth year, where he grew like a weed

at full height, he was 6′1″ (185 cm) - just tall enough to look down at james

Dorcas Meadowes

hogwarts years 1971-1978

i’m pretty sure canon agrees with me when i say that dorcas was black, and a pureblood.

her family weren’t blood supremacists, tho, they were vehemently against voldemort and she grew up with those ideals

she was sorted into ravenclaw but quickly became a friend of lily’s because they both had so much interest in school

dorcas would help her study for history of magic, and in return lily would talk to her about the muggle world

and when i say dorcas was talented, she was talented

i mean, it’s literally canon that voldemort killed dorcas personally, so she had to be a particularly skilled witch

i like to think that in her spare time, dorcas would even make her own spells - similar to snape, they were both inventors

she was very studious - studying long into the night and always reading a book or doing homework during lunch

she was definitely taking many n.e.w.t. level classes when she had the chance

she was probably the model student that the teachers were all very impressed by - she was going places

she was head girl and a prefect, sometimes working alongside remus lupin

i also think that she had a crush on marlene mckinnon

and she thought she was being obvious about it, too - going to quidditch matches? since when had she ever done anything remotely social?

she was planning on being an auror, and she was made one almost immediately after leaving school

james would always ask her for notes, and if he said they were for remus she would always give them to him because remus was a sweet kid and he wouldn’t ruin them

5′4″ (163 cm) but she packed a punch

also, she had great cheekbones. you can’t convince me otherwise.

Regulus Black

hogwarts years 1972-1979

if you were wondering where all of the tall genes went in the family, then look no further

he’s still not super tall, but he surpasses his brother, coming in at 5′11″ (180 cm), the same height as james

he also hit his growth spurt sooner, in his second year, when sirius was still short

and where sirius is overly handsome, regulus is a little less so

he’s still handsome (don’t get me wrong), just in a more... quiet way.

he’s always been a more sombre boy, with sadder eyes and lips less inclined to smile

i think he was always the more plain boy, the more overlooked boy, and that really got into his psyche at a young age

he’s also bookish - this, again, stemming back to his childhood

he was always looking for a way to top sirius, be better than him

if you wanted a boy to speak french in the hp universe, this is him

i feel like regulus would have just been really gifted with languages? he probably knows multiple and reads a lot of literature (including muggle literature - sirius got him a book once, please don’t tell his mother)

he excels in school - went all the way with potions and fell in love with alchemy in his sixth year

but while he’s intelligent, there’s a lot on his mind so he’s never super present in lectures and he doesn’t over participate

he cuts his hair short, always clean and the perfect image that his family wants

in his first two years, he tried to talk to sirius a lot and keep their relationship at something like brothers, but sirius could never understand him and regulus could never understand sirius so they drift apart by his third year

he still feels guilty about that, after all this time

oh! also! regulus is seeker for the slytherin quidditch team. it’s just a thing he does, he doesn’t super love it or anything.

Mary MacDonald

hogwarts years 1972-1979

so mary is a gryffindor a year below lily and the rest of the gang, friends with lily because she, too, was a muggleborn and lily stood up for her against some mean older boys

i headcanon mary as being latina, or maybe just from spain

either way, she comes from a big family and is a middle child

and she speaks spanish.

she’s 5′1″ (155 cm) and you know her friends use it against her all the time, short jokes galore

and she’s very outspoken amongst her friends, making giraffe jokes in retaliation, but it just never really stuck the way short jokes did

she excelled in healing magic and was definitely an ace at potions

she also really loved divination, mostly because it worked in ways that were very different than other magic

she was always braiding hair and definitely taught lily how to braid that long hair of hers

her favorite place was the gryffindor common room because it was always so alive? it reminded her of her big family, that’s for sure

oh, and if james does have a younger sister, when he meets mary macdonald, she immediately reminds him of his sister

and so the two of them quickly become a chaotic duo, singing muggle songs together but also getting on each other’s nerves just for the fun of it

Marlene McKinnon

hogwarts years 1970-1977

she’s one year older than lily but immediately sees this cute first year, lost on the stairs and adopts her

marlene is definitely the reason that lily can be so sassy, too. she’s a terrible influence, really, especially with that mouth

marlene is a gryffindor, too, and she’s definitely on the quidditch team

a chaser, probably - she most likely helped train james when he joined the team and that’s how she knows all about his crush on lily and teases them both

and she 100% gives james tips on how to talk to lily, shhh, no one tell

she has masses of curly, blonde hair and it’s constantly being pulled into a messy top knot or ponytail

she did a dare in fifth year that involved shaving her head and she did it, but immediately freaked out afterward. lily had to find her a hair growing potion, but for a week she had a shaved head that sirius teased her about mercilessly

in her defense, she thought it would be fine at the time.

she was a talented witch, but she struggled in care of magical creatures

she just wasn’t an animal person, okay?

she swears that unicorn was going to gore her.

her favorite class was astronomy - she liked to be outside, and being in the astronomy tower was pretty close to flying.

oh, and she was tall for a girl - 5′9″ (175 cm) and taller than sirius. it was a thing

she was fiercely loyal of her friends and would have been down to duel with anyone if they said anything about lily

she had a lot of siblings and she was the oldest, so it was kind of a given

marlene would have punched death eaters if given the chance

she wanted to punch snape a solid three (3) times during her school years but lily always held her back

Frank Longbottom

hogwarts years 1969-1976

frank was a gryffindor, and a rather sweet one at that

he was a pretty social guy - he had lots of friends, despite being pretty shy. he was just a generally great person to be around and he cared about people a lot. it got him places.

he was pretty tall - 6′0″ (183 cm) - and he had a kind of dorky look to him

but he cleaned up nicely, and every year he got a little better looking

neville got his awkward phase from his dad, and when alice was pregnant, frank said he would have to apologize to his boy for inheriting those longbottom genes, one day.

he really loved movies - he and alice were kind of pop culture nerds

he was a little before remus lupin’s time at hogwarts, but they would have gotten along famously, had they been closer in age

but he definitely had a soft spot for the marauders - those younger gryffindors who were funny and bright and made living in these dark times a little easier

his best class was definitely charms

he loved that class and hoped to one day teach it.

going back to hogwarts one day was always a dream of his

he was terrible at divination, though. something about looking into the future just never felt right.

Alice Longbottom

hogwarts years 1969-1976

so we never get confirmation on what alice’s maiden name was, but i’ve seen in the fandom that it’s widely regarded that it could have been alice fortescue, and i thought that was sweet and kind of just absorbed the idea

alice was a hufflepuff, and a pretty social one at that

she was constantly chewing bubble gum and talking with her large group of friends

i like to think that she always had short hair in school - a dark brown bob that kind of bounced whenever she walked

she was short - 5′2″ (157 cm) - and when she and frank got together in their sixth year, he would always hold her hand and guide her through the crowded halls

she got where she was going so much faster that way

i like to think she’s east asian, or maybe half, on her mother’s side

she was best at herbology, and it surprised everyone when she turned out to be really good at combat magic?

turns out she was great at non-verbal magic and doing magic without her wand

she had lots of practice when helping the plants thrive in herbology - she unwittingly used magic a lot to help them grow

she had so much magical potential, neville definitely inherited that

i also think that she was the more forgetful one out of her and frank, and that’s why neville’s also kind of forgetful, himself.

Narcissa Malfoy

hogwarts years 1966-1973

so let’s get one thing straight - draco gets his incredible bone structure from his mother

this girl had the greatest cheekbones this world has ever seen

and it gave her a very regal look that would have appeared cold on anyone else

but narcissa was kind, okay? she was soft.

also narcissa is queen at wizards chess and strategy - she beat amos diggory’s winning streak in her third year - but she’s also really great at history

and it interests her!

even though lucius was a year ahead of her, he’d always ask her if he didn’t want to do his homework, offering her anything in return

most of the time it was white chocolate or some kind of cream filled pastry - she always had a bit of a sweet tooth, and lucius is her greatest enabler

her worst class was probably herbology or care of magical creatures

she didn’t like working with her hands. she said it wasn’t very “becoming”

andromeda taught narcissa how to do her makeup in her third year, and she picked it up fairly quick, very partial to a dark lip

andromeda also taught her how to do hair, but narcissa preferred to wear it down when she was younger

she’s said to be tall, so i imagine she clocks in at about 5′8″ (173 cm), taller with her usual heels

Lucius Malfoy

hogwarts years 1965-1972

lucius malfoy... where to begin

lucius was really good at reading people. it was one of his strongest talents, and it, interestingly enough, made him really good at divination and other intuitive magics like charms

and even those classes he didn’t like, he did his best to excel in because 1) expectations, and 2) lucius knew there was power in knowledge. and he wanted all of the power he could get.

but he was also great at charming people so when he didn’t want to do his homework, he was all over everyone else, not so much asking for help as just getting it after a word or two.

yes, he always had that long hair

narcissa would sometimes give him little braids when they were in the slytherin common room, but if you were present to witness it, you didn’t ever mention it

he would know and your life would be over. it’s just the facts

and did he always have impeccable style? mostly, yes.

he was always very neat with his clothes - things were always in their rightful place, no matter what

he didn’t get the pimp cane until later, though. it was a graduation gift.

and lucius isn’t actually super tall? i mean, he’s tall, but not super tall

he’s 5′10″ (178 cm)

and he never hated how narcissa and him where basically the same height? (she liked to wear heels) supportive husband, i guess.

and i guess i should tell you - they got together in their 6th year

Amos Diggory

hogwarts years 1963-1970

amos diggory was a hufflepuff, and honestly, he was really cool in his day

he’s the oldest out of everyone on this list, but he went to school with lucius malfoy and xenophilius, leaving before the marauders ever came to school

he was head boy in his 7th year and a prefect prior to

he was kind and worked hard, so the teachers thought he was a good fit

he was particularly gifted in care of magical creatures and transfiguration

he was also really good at wizards chess - he was unbeatable for a while - even against lucius

narcissa beat him in his sixth year, though, and she became the new student to beat

he had a lot of freckles - especially on his arms. they faded a bit with age but he still has quite a few

and he was really good looking?

plenty of people had crushes on him and it may have went to his head just a bit

but he was still very kind and humbled because he wasn’t the most talented or bright, but dedicated to what he loved

whoever he gets with definitely brings out more of his humility and it’s a good match for him

he’s so whipped.

he’s 5′9″ (175 cm)

Other Characters:

Mafalda Hopkirk

hogwarts years 1963-1970

mafalda is portuguese and spoke the language in her home. she mostly learned english for the first time at hogwarts. she had a few exposures before that, but hogwarts was really her first place to learn it.

she was a hufflepuff and honestly exemplified the “hard working” and “kind” traits. truly a friend to all.

she was great at flying and became a chaser for the hufflepuff team almost right away

she also really loved divination - she got into xylomancy early on and was super skilled

she loved making up omens too just to scare her friends

she teased her friends a lot tbh

she’s 5′0″ (152 cm)

oh! and in the hufflepuff common room she basically claimed one of the couches for herself - she’s a bit of a night owl so she perpetually claims the same chair and ends up falls asleep in it.

and since she went to hogwarts during amos diggory’s time, i kind of think the two probably dated at one point. it didn’t last, but maybe in their sixth year the two went on a couple of dates

Xenophilius Lovegood

hogwarts years 1965-1972

xenophilius was a ravenclaw who honestly had a handful of friends and managed to get one in every house  - including slytherin

yes, he could be weird, but he was honestly fun to talk to and gave a lot of interesting insights that weren’t technically wrong, but kind of sounded like it

he was made fun of for it, don’t get me wrong, but his oddities gave him a couple of friends that would let him just ramble

he mostly stuck to himself and his small group of friends, so nothing big ever came of his teasing

plus, when he was younger he wasn’t nearly as out there. that came with age and isolation.

he was actually really intelligent and, like narcissa, had a knack for history

he was also really good at charms - he could do non-verbal spells sooner than most

i imagine he started to grow his hair out in his fourth year, but before then it was short.

all fourth year it was at this really awkward length, but by fifth year it was longer and more natural looking

he only gained his odd fashion taste in his seventh year onward.

Edgar Bones

hogwarts years 1965-1972

edgar bones is a ravenclaw with the biggest fascination with space - more than anyone else you’ll ever know

he was really interested in it when he was younger, and when he went to hogwarts for the first time, his love for astronomy just skyrocketed

good luck getting him down from his tower, because it’s a near impossible feat

he has freckles all over his face (his mom used to tell them they were constellations) and brown eyes hidden behind a pair of square glasses

he actually wears them really well, he’s pretty good looking not going to lie

and for height, he’s pretty average at 5′7″ (170 cm)

he’s italian. idk why, but i just really think he’s italian.

sports aren’t really his thing, but he grew up in a family that lives for quidditch, so he’s a pretty decent chaser if you ever put him up to it.

he’s also really good at potions, although he doesn’t really have a love for it.

if you partner up with him, it’s great because you’ll get your work done fast, but you will end up talking with him about astronomy and divination for the rest of the class.

Bathsheda Babbling

hogwarts years 1966-1973

bathsheda was average height - 5′5″ (165 cm) - with wide, peach color glasses that sort of made her look perpetually surprised

she was black with dark, coily hair that was usually kept short.

she was incredibly gifted in arithmancy and study of ancient runes - the latter which she would one day teach

she was a hufflepuff who set the standard for kindness, always helping the younger students

which made her realize she would love to be a teacher

i don’t think that she was ever given a blood status in canon, but i’ve always thought her to be a halfblood who’s pretty in touch with both the muggle and magical world

i also imagined her to have a younger siblings in ravenclaw, so she could be seen cheering for them at quidditch matches

Fabian Prewett

hogwarts years 1968-1975

fabian and his brother are more well known, so i’ll just hit the basics

so fabian and gideon are clearly twins (don’t @ me with canon, it’s not valid, here), but i also think they were in different houses

fabian was in hufflepuff, and if he ever wore his tie (he was perpetually without it) you would have been able to use it to distinguish the two of them

he was on the quidditch team - a keeper - and was actually really good despite being kind of clumsy on the ground

he was really good at charms and dada but he sucked at transfiguration

gideon was great at transfiguration, though, so it was a constant argument as to who was smarter

fabian definitely gave off younger sibling vibes - he was always joking around and teasing, but he was also very soft hearted when he wanted to be.

he gave terrible life advice, though, go see gideon for that.

i feel like he and gideon had really great hair, although idk why. i just really want them to have nice, curly red hair.

they both kept it short, though. they hated when the curls would get into their eyes.

Gideon Prewett

hogwarts years 1968-1975

now gideon was the brother who was sorted into gryffindor, and you could tell why once you noticed his reckless behavior

if there was anyone the marauders looked up to, it was probably gideon prewett

he definitely helped them set up their first prank and he created such a beautiful legacy, tbh

he was on the gryffindor quidditch team, but he was a beater

the sibling rivalry was really palpable but it made the game so much more fun

like i mentioned, he was great at transfiguration but also had a knack for potions

he was terrible at herbology, though. a plastic plant could die in his care.

gideon is the older twin, but he honestly feels like the younger one sometimes just because he’s so impulsive

but he’s fiercely loyal of his family - don’t even look in their direction or so help him...

also, i forgot to mention that they’re identical twins (because that runs in families and fred and george had to get it from somewhere, right?) and they are both 5′9″ (175 cm)

the tall™ genes came from arthurs side of the family

Bertha Jorkins

hogwarts years 1968-1975

so i know that canon says bertha jorkins isn’t very bright, but i think she was in ravenclaw

i don’t have much on bertha other than she was really curious and loved to listen to gossip

if you ever wanted the good kind of gossip, you went to her because she knew it all

she had connections, y’know?

and i like to think she was creative - probably a writer of some sort, something that would make her want to be a reporter when she left hogwarts

i also think she was a pretty girl. not super gorgeous, but pretty in a more natural, soft way.

Amelia Bones

hogwarts years 1968-1975

amelia bones is the younger sister of edgar bones, and she was a hufflepuff

an athletic girl, she was the seeker for the hufflepuff quidditch team and wanted to be a professional quidditch player for a while, although she eventually turned her gaze to becoming an auror

she was a sweet girl and had a great relationship with her brother - she could sometimes be found in the ravenclaw common room rather than her own, studying with her brother because if he didn’t keep an eye on her, she wouldn’t do her transfiguration homework

she was really good at astronomy, since her brother had been teaching her about the stars since she was little, but her real interest lay in the more tangible magics

again, i like to think that her family is from italy, so she has a really big family and she’s the youngest, which makes her a little pampered, but it’s not too bad.

Sturgis Podmore

hogwarts years 1968-1975

sturgis podmore was a slytherin in hogwarts who mostly kept his head down through his hogwarts years, never really bothering anyone

he had this habit of being able to just slip into the background, no one really noticing him or anything

he was pretty good looking at 5′8″ (173 cm) with a square jaw and a soft demeanor

but again, he had the sneaky ability to just not be seen, so he wasn’t a heartthrob or anything

he was a halfblood and sympathetic to muggleborn students, often helping them in quiet ways so that he wouldn’t get singled out by certain members in his house

he joined the order of the phoenix because he hated feeling like he couldn’t help anyone or do anything that made a difference

he was a really agreeable sort of guy - kind, intelligent, talented.

he should have been the model slytherin, but he was mostly overlooked.

sturgis podmore deserved better, smh

Florence

hogwarts years 1968-1975

florence taylor was a slytherin halfblood who mostly kept to herself

she was friends with sturgis podmore and had a couple of other friends.

she was perfectly kind to others, but she could be a bit curt with acquaintances.

but with her friends, she is the most loyal and would kill for them.

she was made head girl in her seventh year due to her high intellect and generally kind demeanor

she had a secret artsy side - she loved photography and painting, and she had that kind of dark academia aesthetic in all of her work

she liked history of magic and care of magical creatures

she loves animals and is actually really sweet with them?

sturgis may have a bit of a crush on her and there might be a bit of a friends-to-lovers storyline involving the two of them

they are honestly very sweet together - he gives her his sweaters and everything.

and she kind of sucked at potions, but it’s okay because she partnered with sturgis and he absolutely kills it in that class.

they could often be found studying together in the common room, books spread out between them as they worked on the floor

she was 5′4″ ( 163 cm) and had beautiful, brown skin

oh, and she had dimples. that’s important.

Mulciber II

hogwarts years 1970-1977

this sadistic little punk.

his full name is xavier mulciber and he’s in slytherin (obviously)

the leader of his pack (w/ avery and rosier), he’s the most well spoken out of the three of them, and was the one to scout out snape and get him to join them

he was an only child and knew how to work people from a young age

he’s 6′2″ (188 cm) and it helps with his intimidation, even though he’d much rather just talk things out

he was also pretty smart, too, and knew a lot of hexes and jinxes

when he’s cornered someone, he’ll talk to them while walking in a circle, never quite making eye contact because he thinks you’re less than.

he had black hair that he slicked back and sharp, green eyes

Avery II

hogwarts years 1970-1977

punk #2, douglass avery was another slytherin crony of mulciber

now, avery is a bit more complicated

he came from one of those pureblooded slytherin homes, but he himself wasn’t super prejudiced or terrible. he was actually kind of sweet in his first five years at hogwarts.

BUT, his family found out about his muggleborn sympathies and weren’t having it. terrible stuff went down at his house, and when he came to school for his sixth year, he was just as terrible as his summer

in his fifth year he was made prefect, but it was revoked half way through his sixth year when he started becoming nasty to students

he’s 5′10″ (178 cm)

he had brown hair and sort of big, brown eyes

Evan Rosier

hogwarts years 1970-1977

and now we have punk #3, our third sadistic slytherin

now evan rosier was the traditional broad chested, strong bully who looked like he could snap you in half without breaking a sweat

standing at 5′11″ (180 cm), he was a beater on the slytherin quidditch team, and was extremely loyal to voldemort’s cause, even then

he was more aggressive than his friends when it came to negotiations, but he still deferred to Mulciber, knowing his place.

he always had his reservations about avery, and he’d pick on him since avery was objectively lower on the pecking order, but he was also aware that everyone served a purpose

not the dumb jock archetype because while he was always ready for a fight, he knew when he had to wait things out

he was blonde with blue eyes

Dirk Cresswell

hogwarts years 1971-1978

dirk cresswell was a muggleborn hufflepuff who embodied the idea of hard working

he was really talented at everything, and it honestly can be attributed to his work ethic

he was really good at potions and was frequently the partner of dorcas meadowes

they both worked really well together, and dorcas said that she wouldn’t have any other partner because no one else was half as smart and kind as dirk

he was a commentator for quidditch in his fifth year of hogwarts but said he didn’t love it too much - the sport is much funner when you can just watch

he was 5′5″ (165 cm) and was teased for being short (and a muggleborn, but that’s not the point)

he had sandy brown hair and freckles

Greta Catchlove

hogwarts years 1971-1978

greta catchlove was a ravenclaw who mostly kept a low profile during her school years

if you did see her, she was most likely sneaking into the hogwarts kitchens where she learned how to cook from the house elves

a lot of their secrets would be told when she wrote her book “charm your own cheese”

i also feel like she probably had an entire cookbook lineup - not just one about how to make cheese

anyway there’s not much to say about greta

she’s blonde and kind of short at 5′3″ (160 cm)

she was perfectly kind

Farley

hogwarts years 1971-1979

theodore farley was a half-blood slytherin who had to work rather hard to get where he was

he was quidditch captain for his last 2 years of hogwarts, and he was a beater - and a pretty good one, too

he nearly took out james a few times, but it was all in good fun 

because what is key to theodore farley is that he’s noble.

ambitious, sure, but not underhanded or sneaky. he’s the youngest out of a fairly big family, so he’s determined to prove himself, but not at the expense of what he believes

he has honor and dignity

theo was pretty strong, seeing as he’s a beater, and he stands at 5′7″ (170 cm)

he’s half brazilian and had really nice hair - you would not believe

he was very into slicking it back

he was absolutely amazing at charms and actually really enjoyed arithmancy

he struggled in potions, though, and was one time partnered with severus snape

it was horrible. he’ll never do that again.

Emmeline Vance

hogwarts years 1971-1978

emmeline vance was a ravenclaw, and a talented one at that

she was top of the class at charms and she was really good at dada, too. she was a really great spell caster and was good at dueling, too.

she’s half-veela, making her very gorgeous, but she wanted to make a name for herself outside of that beauty, y’know?

she was extremely competitive when it came to school, and she would do anything to get there

but she had a soft spot for her younger brother and would honestly do anything for him.

she was 5′9″ (175 cm) with long, blonde hair that was even more hair goals than sirius black, which is saying something.

Corner

hogwarts years 1973-1980

apolline corner was the younger sister of a few older brothers, sorted into ravenclaw

she was more of an artsy ravenclaw - she played the cello in the music class they had at hogwarts and did the art class, too, although she mostly doodled

she started doing calligraphy and she got okay at it. it didn’t last.

being a half blood, she took muggle studies as an easy class, but she ended up really liking it because it talked about some things she didn’t know or it deepened her understanding of what she already knew

plus, y’know, it helps that it was easy

she was really good in potions, too, something that her whole family was good at because her mom was a potions master and taught them all at a young age

she was absolutely terrible at astronomy for some reason, always messing up the skies by a long shot

she was 5′6″ (168 cm) and had long, black hair and brown eyes

-- taglist: @musicallisto, @babyplutoszx2, @locke-writes, @randomfandomimagine

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

tapestry 👑 VII

Warnings: eventual dark elements (tags to be added as fic continues)

This is dark!(king)Steve and explicit. 18+ only.

Summary: King Steven had a wandering eye but you never thought it would fall upon you.

This Chapter: The pieces are moved further across the board.

Note: It’s a slightly shorter chapter but I’m hoping the next chapter turns out how I envision it. I work close so I’ll get a little longer before work to figure that out but thank you all for reading and following this series.

I really hope you enjoy. 💋 You guys rock!

<3 Let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply! Love ya!

You tucked the necklace away and didn’t touch it; couldn’t even look at it. Joan and Sybil ignored you as Marion sent you sympathetic looks. You felt terribly. Rose hadn’t been the nicest but she had been just as humiliated as the queen. And perhaps Eleanor had her own machinations but she didn’t deserve that shame. First a bastard followed by a public betrayal. 

You barely slept. You couldn’t stop thinking of the scene in the queen’s receiving chamber. The king was growing desperate, you assured yourself, impatient, and he was only trying to lure you into his arms. His promises of adoration, honours, and even marriage were empty. You knew that by the treatment of the other women. 

How easily would he be done with you should you succumb to him?

The morning brought a headache and a knot in your chest. You readied and went with the other women to morning prayers. Your meal was taken without the queen. She was supping with her husband, it was reported, although many whispered at the veracity of the excuse. As they did, they looked to you and you stared at your plate. Rose was absent as well.

Marion sat with you. She was your only steadfast companion and only passively so. Her tolerance was kindness compared to the distaste of the other women. You wondered how Rose had bore it with a smile but you never recalled her facing such hostility. In fact, her giggling accounts of her and the king’s trysts were favoured tales.

You didn’t eat much. You were silent and walked with the other ladies back to your chambers. As you came upon them, a woman with hair the colour of straw and pock scars upon her cheeks stood at the door. A loud sobbing was muffled from behind the next. Rose’s despair was rampant and outright.

Again, several glares, each cut you deep. The yellow-haired woman stepped forward and curtsied. Her brown dress and white apron denoted her servitude. Her eyes searched among the ladies though she couldn’t choose where to keep them. Your name slipped from her lips; a question.

The ladies parted as they sneered at you. You stepped forward and kept your head high. “It is me you seek.”

“My lady,” She gave a crooked smile. “I am Marge. The king has sent me to serve you. To help you ready for your things.”

“My things?” You asked. “What do you mean?”

“Your chambers have been arranged. The king has seen to them and I am to be your chambermaid.”

“Chambers? Why, I am a lady without title or marriage, I should remain as I am.” You protested. “I’d rather you return to the king and seek reassignment.”

“My lady, I have strict orders to see you to your new chambers.” She insisted and her eyes flicked along the line of ladies. “And to attend whatever needs you should have.”

You sighed and resisted the urge to glance at the other ladies. You could feel them watching you. “I haven’t much,” You relented. “It shouldn’t take very long.”

“My lady,” She dipped her head. “There will be men soon to help carry your trunks.”

“It is just the one.” You assured her. “Not very much at all.”

Marion opened the door and you followed her within. Marge waited for the other ladies to enter before she followed. She trailed you to your bed and you opened your trunk. You packed away the book and the handkerchief you had left on your pillow. She helped you buckle it shut.

“Good riddance,” You heard Joan’s whispered as she sat on her bed and watched. You looked up at her . You were tiring of the poorly-hidden scorn. The cowardice snipes beneath one’s breath.

“Yes, good riddance,” You said. She flinched as if you’d struck her. 

Two men in servant’s garb appeared in the open door. One knocked on the frame and they bowed as you looked to them. 

“My lady.” They nodded to you. “Marge, we’ve come to help.”

“Just this one,” Marge pointed to the large chest. 

“Might I…” Marion’s voice distracted you as the men entered and stood on either end of the trunk. “Might I come along and help you settle in?”

Your lips parted. You looked at the other ladies again. Joan avoided your gaze and Sybil watched the servants. “You would do that?”

“If you’d have me,” She offered. “It will be...different without you here.”

“Yes, I would love it if you came along, Marion,” You smiled. “Though I suspect I needn’t very much help.”

“Even so,” She replied. “I think I will miss you.”

👑

The chambers were much larger than those you shared with the other ladies. There was a spacious receiving chamber with a tall fireplace and a round table painted with vined fruit. There was a sofa just on the other side of it and ornaments lined the mantle and a small table near the window. There were velvet chairs sat before the hearth and tapestries kept the room from growing frigid.

The bedroom was just as luxurious. The bed was draped in deep red linens and a screen separated the vanity and the armoire. Tall windows lined the wall on the other side of the bed and a smaller hearth faced the bed. Another door opened into a privy. Your father would be envious.

You felt out of place as Marge began to unpack your gowns into the wardrobe. You only had half a dozen and a few sleeping gowns. Your father couldn’t afford much more and you altered them often to keep them fashionable. You fidgeted with your sleeve as you retreated back to the receiving chamber where Marion marveled at the painting of the king just above the fire.

“I think the king is in love with you,” She mused as she turned around. “Do you think so?”

“Is that what you think?” You crossed the room and sat lightly on the sofa. “When he disdains his queen and has disposed of Rose so swiftly.”

Her brows drew together. She neared and sat on the other end of the sofa. “Do you not think him genuine?”

“I think he is a man who is rarely deprived. I think it is more about the pursuit than the prize.” You wrung your hands as you kept your voice low. “I have not encouraged him, I have not done anything but refuse him.”

“But… every lady at court longs to be in your place.” She insisted.

“I have seen his habit and I believe myself no better than my predecessors. If...when he gets what he wants he will be done with me just as quickly.” You frowned. “I am not a fool. But my father is. He is intent upon my snaring the king.”

Marion blinked in surprise.

“Oh, I should not have said that. You will tell the others, won’t you?”

“Why would I do that?” She asked. “They are jealous, that is all. I mean, they all fawned over Rose and she made certain we all knew of her relations with the king. So far as we know, you’ve barely even smiled in his direction.”

“Yes, but in a place like this, imagination means more than reality.” You bemoaned. “Do you really not hate me as they do?”

“They do not hate you, they hate that they are not you.” She assured you. “If anything, they hate the king for how he has treated Rose. And the queen, to some extent. It reminds us all of our position as women. Of how tenuous it is.”

“Why, Marion, I thought you said you weren’t one for such bleak thoughts.”

“I wasn’t.” She gave a soft smile; behind it, pity. “You’ve not heard what happened with Rose?”

“The child?” You wondered. 

“Half the court knows of the child.” She waved her fingers lightly, “My brother was among the men with the king the day after the scene with Queen Eleanor. Rose’s father marched her into the king’s receiving chamber, he was livid. Not with his daughter even, but the king. Can you fathom that?”

“Sadly,” You replied. “If she truly carries a bastard, she has no hope of a marriage.”

“Well, that’s it. Her father accused the king of defiling Rose but the king would not stand for it. He said, in front of all his men, ‘When your daughter came to my bed, she was no maiden, and I doubt my bed strengthened her chastity.’” Marion was almost whispering as she leaned close. “My brother said he could barely breathe. It was completely silent. No one knew what to say and Rose just ran out in tears.”

“Oh, poor thing,” You touched your throat. 

“You pity her?”

“How can I not? One day, I might find myself in the same circumstance, if not worse.”

Marion nodded and glanced around the chamber. Shadows struck her face sharply as she looked to you grimly. “I suppose you are envious of us then? How funny it is to think.”

“More than you know,” You leaned back. Your sleeve was fraying from your endless picking at the delicate cuff. “I am trapped. The more I say no, the more persistent the king grows, but if I say yes then I am surely doomed.”

👑

Your first night in your new chambers was the most lonely you’d ever known. You wished you had accepted Marge’s offer for her to stay, but you’d sent the servant away out of paranoia. You weren’t completely convinced she was not sent to report your every word back to the king. 

You were as wakeful as you had been of late. The dark was desolate and the morning held little promise. The walls around you were the embodiment of those which had risen between you and the court. 

You eventually dozed in spurts. When the dawn bloomed through the curtains and the ache of your head kept you awake, you rose. Marge arrived as if she sensed your consciousness. She helped you wash and dress and pulled the moss green hood over your hair as you sat before the mirror.

You wondered at your reflection. How could you have driven the king to such madness? Perhaps you were not so plain as you thought. Or perhaps you were. 

You were reluctant to leave and so you paced your receiving chamber. The queen would only find so many excuses for her absence and besides, she was not the type to hide for long. And neither were you. 

And Rose? Would she ever appear again? Well, if she did, you expected she would not be any nicer than before.

You had almost found your courage when the knock came. When you were brought to a sudden halt to look at Marge. She diligently went to the door. She didn’t notice the fearful look you sent her way. You didn’t have time to wonder who would visit. You suspected the king as the hinges whined.

The queen stood in the doorway. She was accompanied by a guard as she always was when she traversed the castle. She did not await an invitation but swept inside with a wish of her skirts. The beaded azure silk flowed like an ocean around her slender figure. Her eyes were discerning as she took account of your chambers.

“So it is true.” She began. “He has lodged you for his pleasure.”

“Your highness, I tried to re--”

“You have done very well for someone who has tried to resist.” She neared the mantle over the hearth and looked up at the portrait of her husband. He had been younger when he posed for it. “He was prince then. This was the painting they sent when they offered the contract between us. I thought he was so handsome I accepted and insisted on bring the portrait with me.”

She paused as she reached up to trace her fingers along the frame.

“At first, it was a comfort. I thought, when he was kept away from me, too busy with his court and kingly duties, that he’d still be there. I could look over and see him. I was young, like you, and just as naive ” 

She laughed sourly. “Then I could bear to look at it no longer. The first mistress I forgave, even the second, but when there are too many to keep count, your worth becomes apparent. And so you take down the painting and store it away to be shrouded in dust...along with your heart.”

“I didn’t ask for it--”

“You should’ve played along. I would’ve seen you retired away from court in a nice country house. A castle on the moors. But now, when he tires of you, I shall let him cast you out.” She turned to face you. “For you have shamed me worse than any.”

“I did not--”

“I did not come to converse. I came for you to listen.” She hissed. “For you may act coy with my husband, play with him as you do, and he may prop you up until he can get what he wants, but I am still his queen. I have the crown, the throne, and by rite, I have him.”

You stared at her. You inhaled and nodded. You realized, there was nothing you could say. There was nothing you could think of to say. And so you were silent as you were so many times before, only this time, you were more than the girl along the wall.

“I can drag you down further than the king can lift you higher. Understand that. You are an earl’s daughter, a second daughter at that. I was born a princess, raised to be a queen. You will never be me. You can never.” 

In her anger she looked so unlike herself that she was monstrous. Her words were more so and cut you deep. You reeled and caught the chair beside you. You closed your eyes and breathed. Again the anger rose; so unfamiliar. Years of being unheard boiled within.

“I never wanted this.” You opened your eyes. “I told you I didn’t but you persisted because you thought to topple Lady Rose. You thought to play your hand and drew the low card. You’ve done this to both of us and it cannot be undone.”

She shook her head and scoffed. “You are just the same as all the rest, my lady.” She neared the table and ran her fingertips along the painted top. “You must enjoy these chambers while you remain here,” She rescinded her hand and retreated. “For you will never know any so fine when you are through.”

“I understand why you blame me but know that I do not blame you. Not even for your hate, for your scorn. For you have a right to it. You should be angry; you should hate him, hate me even, but you can content yourself in knowing that you have already ravaged my life completely.” You stood straight and crossed your arms. “But you may just have doomed yourself along with me.”

Her lips parted as if to retort. Her green eyes held yours for a moment before she turned away. She motioned to her guard and Marge opened the door. She stopped as she reached the door frame and her long fingers rested on the wood. 

“Good. So you will know the same pain I have.” Those were her last words before she swept out into the corridor.

The jingle of her guards mail and the padding of her slippers were muffled as Marge shut the door. The servant’s face was beet red as she avoided your gaze. You dropped your arms and stepped around the chair to sit.

“You needn’t remain, Marge. I shall not bind you to me and I have lived many years without a maid.” You said softly. “You have my leave, should you want it.”

“I should not.” Her tone was firm. “For I agreed to tend to you in whatever you need and right now, you would seem to need a friend.”

[seanfalco]

Catch me in the Club | Klaus Hargreeves x Reader

Fandom: The Umbrella Academy Pairing: Klaus Hargreeves x Reader (same as from Playing with Fire) Word Count: 1844 Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive dialogue

a/n: So this is completely self-indulgent and honestly ridiculous, but ever since seeing the new season 2 promotional posters and learning more about the plot, plus reading this post about Klaus running a strip joint in the comics (which who knows if it’ll even be part of the show or not), I couldn’t get this scene out of my head.  Basically just an excuse to write my Reader and Klaus being 60s’ fashion icons and the shameless flirts that they are.  Also titles are harddd.  Don’t laugh at me lol.

—

Pride might not be the first emotion one would connect with the idea of a strip club, but damn if you weren’t proud of what you’d built — you and Klaus, together.

Finding yourselves stranded in the middle of Dallas in the year 1960 after jumping back in time, you’d come out on the other side very much alone, only Klaus’s hand still clasped in yours; the rest of the Hargreeves nowhere to be found.  Thinking them dead, the two of you eventually settled down, making a new life for yourselves, deciding if you were stuck there then you might as well at least make the best of it.

As you emerged from the back dressing room to walk the main floor, you bobbed your head to the music blaring over the speakers, singing snatches of the lyrics under your breath as your gaze swept the room -- at least you’d been stranded in an era with good music, you thought.  

In the hazy light several topless dancers gyrated and twirled effortlessly around their poles as patrons watched hungrily from the bar, some nursing beers while others stared transfixed, completely forgetting the drinks growing warm in front of them.  You had to admit, there was a certain elegance to the way they moved, and you often found yourself staring, probably more often than you would admit; picking up certain moves to make use of in the bedroom later -- Klaus never complaining.

Speaking of which, you spotted Klaus behind the large circular bar filling the center of the room and you ambled toward him, catching his eye before leaning flirtatiously over the smooth shiny surface.

“Hey you,” you greeted, grinning up at him as he met you with a roguish grin of his own.

You had to admit that the 60s’ surprisingly suited him.  He’d let his hair grow long; his silky brunette curls artfully framing his thin face as they cascaded down, brushing his shoulders.  You probably spent about half your time running your fingers through it, relishing just how soft it was and the appreciative sighs it coaxed from Klaus’s lips as he practically melted under your touch.  

The long teal and cream coloured Nehru jacket he wore today was one of your favourites; his fashion sense just as eclectic and eye catching in the past as it was in the future and the pair of you had swiftly become connoisseurs of a strange mix of hippy and mod fashion which on anyone else would probably just look like a hot mess, but for some reason it worked for you.

The one thing you couldn’t stand was staring you right in the face at the moment and you tugged on it with a frown as you batted your lashes at your boyfriend.  For some ungodly reason you still couldn’t fathom why Klaus had decided to trade in his dashing goatee for the long scraggly abomination that currently decorated his chin and though you tolerated it as best you could, you never missed an opportunity to remind him of your displeasure toward it.

“Hey you, yourself,” Klaus replied with a chuckle, leaning in closer, gazing at you dreamily.

“How goes the front of house?” You asked, slipping up to sit on the bar next to him, planting your hands behind you and leaning back to gaze around the room.

“Oh, the usual,” he mused, “just a lot of horny guys watching some half naked women dance for them.”  You snorted in response, glancing over at him.  “Everything alright backstage?” 

“Just a little drama, nothing I couldn’t take care of,” you answered and Klaus nodded.

“The same old drama?” he asked. 

“The same,” you said, rolling your eyes.  Two of the women were notorious for not getting along, and while you attempted to keep them apart as often as possible they were both drama queens and liked to start shit over the pettiest things.

“Soooo,” Klaus prompted, his hand slipping toward your bare leg; crossed over your knee, your foot bouncing idly.  “Are we still on for dinner later tonight?”  

When his finger traced along the length of your thigh from the hem of your miniskirt down to your knee you glanced down, your lips twitching.

“Of course,” you replied, pointedly taking his hand from your leg with a teasing smirk and turning it to trace the ‘hello’ tattooed on his palm with your finger.  “Is there anything in particular you’re craving for dessert?” 

You could practically feel the shiver as it ran through Klaus and your smirk widened.  

“I think you know exactly what I’m craving,” he purred in your ear, returning the favour as a thrill ran through you as well, warmth and want filling you.  

Unfortunately there were still several hours left til your little date, and you were now feeling incredibly impatient.

Opening your mouth to make a suggestive retort the sound of raised voices caught your attention and your eyes quickly sought out the source of the disturbance, cutting you off.  Across the bar a rather rowdy patron had stood, grabbing one of the strippers and yanking her toward him, attempting to cop a feel.  Without missing a beat you jumped down from the bar, your face a thunderhead as you stalked across the room.

“Hey!” you snapped, stepping between the man and the dancer, murder in your eyes.  “There is a strict no touching policy in place here.  So get your hands off.”

The man swayed, obviously drunk, his eyes sliding from the woman behind you to you, his gaze lazily traveling downward before finally coming back to your face before he released his grasp on the performer.

”Touch any of my employees again and you’ll regret it,” you growled, your voice lowering dangerously as you met his gaze.  As you confronted him the woman quickly slipped away, hurrying to the back room to compose herself.

“Oh, and what are you gunna do about it, missy?  Throw me out?  I’ll just come back tomorrow,” the smug bastard slurred, laughing raucously, glancing over at his buddies.  Crossing his arms over his chest he turned back around, leering at you.

Having caught up to you, Klaus appeared, sweeping in to stand at your shoulder, silently offering you backup in case you needed it.

“No,” you replied, no trace of amusement in your voice as you glared the man down, “first I’ll break your hand, then I’ll throw you out myself.”

“Oooh, real scary!” he laughed, glancing over his shoulder for support from his friends.  “I’d like to see you try, girly.”

His laughter cut off with a yelp as you snatched his wrist, twisting til you felt resistance, the man’s surprise turning to a panicked whine and his eyes locked on Klaus at your shoulder.

“Hey man, w-what the fuck?  C-control your woman, why don’tcha!” he cried, trying to pull away from your grasp, but you only wrenched harder.

Klaus looked from the man to you, a small smile playing at his lips and he shrugged lightly.  “That’s not really how it works around here,” he explained, the look in his emerald eyes decidedly proud.  “She’s the boss and what she says goes, so unless you uh, want the use of your hand, which ooh that looks painful,” he exclaimed, his brows drawing down in faux concern as he covered his mouth sarcastically with his hand, “then I suggest you do as the fraulein says.”

The man gaped at Klaus, his mouth moving soundlessly, eyes darting back and forth between the two of you.

Lifting your eyebrows impatiently you gave his wrist one more yank before he was cracking.  “Alright, alright!” he cried, his voice climbing in pitch, “I’ll go!”

“See that you do, and if you try to come back, you’ll find we won’t be as welcoming.”  With a tight smile you released him and he instantly stumbled back, pulling his arm tight against his chest, cradling it as he backed away.  

“You and your girlfriend are fucking crazy, man!” he exclaimed before stumbling for the door, bumping blindly into several other patrons on his way and weaving through the two bouncers who were now looking your way.  Turning your fiery gaze on the man’s group of friends they quickly turned back to the bar, their shoulders hunched as if to say they wanted none of their fellow’s problems.

Clapping your hands as if satisfied you turned to Klaus, finding an awe filled grin on his face.  

“I love it when you threaten people, [Y/N], it’s so hot,” he murmured, reaching for your arm and pulling you close.

“Oh?  You like that, huh?” you asked wryly, cocking an eyebrow up at him.  “Too bad we’re on the clock right now.”

Klaus shrugged.  “Y’know, I really don’t care,” he mused, leaning in for a kiss, hooking his finger under your chin to tilt your face up.

When you pulled back you frowned slightly.  “Klaus, you know I love you, but… when the fuck are you gunna lose that God awful thing?” you huffed, tugging once more on his long beard.

“Aw, but you love me more than you hate my beard,” he pointed out, his lips twisting cheekily.  “I’d say that's a real testament to our relationship, you know?”

“Mhmm, and one of these mornings you’re gunna wake up to the damned thing cut off,” you replied, turning to walk back to the office.

“H-hey!  Hey hey hey,” Klaus exclaimed hastily, hurrying to catch up to you, your airy fringed kimono billowing out behind you in your haste before he caught your wrist, yanking you around and back toward him, catching you in his arms to hold you in place.

“I promise I’ll trim my beard once we get home tonight, okay?” Klaus relented sincerely.  “Will that make you happy, [Y/N]?” he asked, staring down at you with those damn effective puppy dog eyes of his.

“Have I told you yet today how much I love you?” you asked, a smile cracking through.

“Hmmm, I do seem to recall, vaguely, you saying something to that effect this morning, while we were in bed,” he mused, “but I’d love to hear it again, if you please,” he said hopefully.

Resting your arms around his shoulders you grinned up at him, your foul mood instantly evaporating and you were past caring who saw -- it wasn’t as if your employees and regulars weren’t used to this sort of thing by now anyways.

“Klaus, I love you, you wonderful, wonderful man.  Now, we really need to get back to work.”

The silly grin that lit up his face at your words was more than worth it and he laid a quick peck to your lips before pulling away reluctantly.

“Yes, [Y/N], I am your willing slaveee!” he called, bowing to you with a flourish.  “Until later,” he drawled, waggling his eyebrows at you suggestively before he swanned off, and you shook your head fondly as you watched him, biting your lip to keep from grinning too much before you too turned to get back to work as well.

[it-was-all-a-beautiful-dream]

Fated Mate (Pt 6)

Warnings: Mild swearing/mentions of suicide/death 

Word Count: 2,373

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It had been days since the incident with your newly discovered powers. At first, no one knew what to say, they had never seen something like that before. You didn't know what to say, you had closed yourself off, not even speaking to Emmett, worried you would end up hurting someone. Your emotions were still new and raw, you had to remind yourself that it’d only been a couple of weeks since Bella had turned you. Since that day. 

Surprisingly the first person you let in since the little powers incident was Rosalie. You had never been friends with Rose when you were human. She tolerated you because you were Bella’s cousin. Now, she had decided she could relate to you more than she first thought. It started with a knock at the door, to which you didn't answer. Growing impatient, Rosalie broke in anyway and didn't really give you the option. You were going to talk about it. Whatever was bothering you, and you did. You let it all out, to the person you least expected. 

The first snow had fallen. Alice and Jasper had left. It hurt but you tried to ignore it as something bigger was coming. Initially, Carlisle had talked about sending you away as the Volturi would probably try and use you for their own good. It was better to keep you away when they didn't even know you existed. But somehow they found out about you. Alice had seen it. There was no hiding now. They'd be coming for you and Renesmee. 

You still didn't know how to control your abilities properly. Something that wasn't going to help when it came time to face off with the Volturi. You were growing agitated. You had been training with Jasper, he was teaching you how to fight and use your newborn strength. At least that was something you could contribute to the fight. At the moment you still had remnants of human blood flowing through your system which made you all the more stronger.

You hadn't spoke to Emmett since the incident. When you spoke to Rose she had explained why you and Emmett were drawn together and why Rosalie and Emmett were not longer together. You were his mate. Everyone has one, even humans. So yes soulmates are a thing apparently. She wasn't angry at you. Maybe in the beginning, but no, not now. She knew it might happen one day, and instead she was happy that Emmett had finally found the one person he was fated to be with for eternity. You didn't know how to process the information. Yes, you believed in soulmates as cheesy as it was, you just didn't think you'd be lucky enough to ever find yours. You were kinda mad at him for not telling you about it. You had noticed the instant draw to him, the magnetic, tingly sensation every time he was near, thinking it was just a vampire thing.

He had tried to speak to you, you ignored him. You didn’t know how to feel and everything was just confusing. Did he even feel that way for you before you were turned? You just didn't want it to be a forced thing that he had no say in. Ignoring him didn't go down well. You noticed Emmett over the days, getting more and more angry, having to go hunting just to cool off. You should probably talk to him about it eventually, but what do you say? “Oh hey Em I hear we’re mates, that’s cool.” You scoff and shake your head. 

You were in the woods with Benjamin. You had been having lessons on how to manage your powers. Tomorrow the Volturi would arrive and you at least wanted to be able to throw snowballs at them if all else failed. You chuckled to yourself and Benjamin gave you a disapproving look. You weren't concentrating. Okay, time to focus. 

You had been trying to copy Benjamin and make a little dirt whirlwind in the palm of your hand. Focus on the power flowing through you blah blah blah. You were too distracted. Emmett was stood a stones throw away talking to Jasper. You couldn't help but check him out. He was dressed in all black. Black combat Jeans, black boots and oh that leather jacket made you melt. You had spaced out and could faintly here Ben calling you back. You snapped out of it and gasped. Ben was looking at you in awe. All of the loose debris from the forest floor was floating around you gently, as if it were caught in time. Reaching out you poked at a twig that was floating in front of you and laughed, gaining the attention of Emmett and Jas who looked shocked. Probably at the fact you had actually laughed for the first time in weeks and more at the fact the forest floor was floating around your head. If vampires could blush you would be the shade firetruck. Emmett was looking at you so intensely. The debris started to swirl around you like a whirlwind and you gave him a toothy smile. 

You knew how to control your powers. Emotion was the answer. You breathed deeply to calm your racing heart, the debris slowly floated back to where it belonged and you hugged Benjamin, thanking him for pushing you. You finally did something! 

After practising a little more with Benjamin and Rosalie; who had come out to see how you were getting on, you had finally got the hang of lifting and dropping objects, it was a start which left you wondering how much more and what else you could do. Emmett was still lingering close by, watching from the corner of his eye. You had finally decided it was time to talk to him. Benjamin had excused himself and Rosalie gave you some space after giving your shoulder a reassuring squeeze. You walked over to Emmett, he was surprised. “Emmett, can we talk?” You chewed your lip, a nervous trait you carried over from being human, he nodded and you both sat down on a log outside the Cullen house. You couldn't deny your feelings for Emmett. Over the past couple of days, as much as you tried to ignore him, something inside you was constantly pulling you back. You let it all out, you told him that you knew you were mates, that’s why you had been avoiding him, trying to end your life, becoming a vampire, learning you were this all powerful rare being, AND Emmett Cullen is your mate that you’re fated to be with for the rest of eternity. It was a lot to deal with. 

You spoke for hours, the day turned to night and in the end you and Emmett were closer than ever. 

-The day the Volturi arrived-

Today was the day Alice had seen in her vision, and she and Jasper still hadn't come back. The house was loud with vampires rushing around preparing for battle. You were leaning against a book shelf just watching, not really hearing, spaced out, thinking about what was to come. You felt someone move behind you. Emmett placed his chest against your back and you relaxed slightly. You turned to give him a small nervous smile and he took your hand giving it a squeeze. “We will be fine Y/N.” Kissing your forehead, he took you by the hand and led you over to the sofa were you both sat to listen to the final plan. 

You had all agreed there was no point trying to hide you from the Volturi. You'd be fighting just like the rest of them. All the training with Jasper and Benjamin was finally going to pay off. You leaned against Emmett on the sofa, listening to Carlisle go over the plan. You were listening, but your mind was wondering off at the same time. You were worried that you'd choke up and your abilities wouldn't help. Worried your family might get hurt… worried Emmett might get hurt…. You picked at the sleeve of your black combat jacket. You felt panicky inside, Jasper was looking at you from across the room and a little storm was brewing outside the window. You looked up, shook from your daze as Emmets hand came down on your shoulder, they had noticed the twig storm outside the window. You gave a nervous smile and excused yourself walking through to the kitchen. 

You sighed, you didn't even have to look to know that Emmett was walking behind you. 

“Y/N, I promise, everything is going to be okay. I wont let anything happen to you, you know that.” You sighed and dropped your head into your hands. He pulled you into his solid form for a hug, resting his chin on top of your head. 

“Emmett… what if something bad happens… I can’t lose anyone.. I cant lose you Em, not when i’ve just found you.” Vampires couldn't cry but you didn't have to, small flecks of rain spit against the glass windows and you watched as Emmett smirked. He twirled you around so your back was pressed against him and pointed out the window. 

“Do you know why I know we will be okay. Because one… I love you, you’re my blood singer and I’ll never let anything happen to you, and two Y/N, you’re a badass Newborn Vamp with killer abilities that the Volturi can’t match.”  You giggled and then realised what he’d actually said, turning to look at him. 

“You love me?” You were shocked, you completely felt the same way but you thought it would have been too soon to tell him. Ever since that day you'd had that long conversation, you’d known. Maybe it was the bond, maybe it was that and more, who knew. You smiled at Emmett wrapping your arms around his neck, brining him down to your level. “Well, I love you too Em.” He grinned at you and leaned in, placing his lips on yours softly, you didn't hesitate, the spark was alive now more than ever and you captured his lips with yours pushing your body into his. You could feel sunshine through the window on your back, you smiled into the kiss. You couldn't lose this. This is what you were fighting for. 

-The Field-

This was it. You were all standing in the snowy field awaiting your fate. Partners and allies stood side by side. Emmet, holding your frosty hand. You leaned into him slightly and you felt him soften at your touch, then you noticed the capes. 

Black and red capes floating across a sea of white, you stiffened and the grip on your hand tightened. You looked up to Emmet and he kissed you on the forehead. Reassurance. 

“The red coats are coming, the red coats are coming.” Everyone was on high alert now, a menacing presence filled the air. You hear Edward tell Bella, “Aro’s looking for Alice”, and then your eyes train on Jane, you’d never met the Volturi before, but your family painted a pretty good picture and you picked her out straight away. Probably your biggest threat. 

You smirk as you hear the howls and watch as the wolves appear from the fog and trees. The red coats look shocked, rattled even. Good. 

You're finding it hard to keep your emotions in check. You watch as Carlisle walks closer to Aro, you hear Emmet growl under his breath slightly, when your name is mentioned. 

“No laws have been broken.” Carlisle holds his hands up, gesturing to us standing in the background. You watch as Caius basically spits at his comment. 

“We see the child, do not treat us as fools, and your Omni, we see you have a new coven member.” You tilt your chin and glare at the vampires, you needed to be strong, they couldn't see you as weak, especially if you're as powerful as you've been told. 

Watching the exchange between Aro and Edward was hard, you were struggling to just stand there. Then he mentioned Bella and the fog seemed to get thicker, the air colder, there were a lot of eyes on you now. Watching, you saw Bella close her eyes and struggle to project her shield, you needed to be ready, just incase something happened. You were focused now, you knew you could use your powers if you had to, there was enough emotions swirling and all you had to do was think about what you wanted to do and it would happen. They should have called it the imagination power, because that’s all it was, your mind. 

“I’d like to meet her, and your Omni.” Jacob growled and Emmet pushed you behind him a little bit. Fuck. Bella started walking with Jake and Renesmee and you walked out from behind Emmet, he clenched his jaw, but walked with you, falling into line with you every step of the way, ready for anything. 

“Ahhh young Belllaa, immortality becomes you, and you must be Y/N, i’ve heard so much about you. How fascinating that you would also find your La Tua Cantante in the same coven as your relative.” You bristle as Aro laughs, pointing at Nessie. Bracing yourself as Nessie touches his face, allowing him to know the truth about how she was born. He doesn't forget about you though. His eyes never leaving your form, as if he were waiting for you to do something extraordinary. 

Edward and Bella retreat with Nessie as Aro and Caius bicker, You walk away with Emmet, then you hear the Denali sisters scream, you turn back just in time to see Irina get ripped to pieces. Bella was ushering Nessie up onto Jake and all hell broke loose as the sisters charged forward. You ran back to the line with Emmett, ready to use your powers if need be, however Edward seemed to have in under control.

You thought everything was okay, until you collapsed to the floor, writhing in agony, Jane looking at you from a distance, taking you to your knees with just one word. 

“Pain.” 

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part 7 ------- CLICK HERE 

Tag List:

@bluebirdbts

@jelly-fishy-babie

@bbooks-and-teas

 I’m sorry this took so long to be released! I hope you like it, there will be a few more parts to go yet, you're in it for the long haul lol x ty to everyone who reads my stories <3 Also comment if you'd like to be tagged! 

[jojosfluffyadventure]

Headcanons on how bucci gang would act if they were in love with their fem partner

I love writing this kind of thing~

Bruno:

- When Bruno falls for you, he doesn’t act too differently at first.

- But being together all the time on missions, it grows hard not to notice the soft fondness in his eyes when he speaks to you, the extra concern he seems to show for you in dangerous situations, his sudden reflex to take your hand when you need to stay close together.

- He stops being able to think of you as just his partner and friend, but now as the most wonderful girl he’s ever known, someone he would love to make happy every day of his life.

- He does his best to avoid the topic of romance, even if there’s nothing more he’d like to discuss. Because although he’s absolutely dying to confess his feelings for you, he still wants to remain professional at work.

- On the rare days you aren’t out doing jobs for the organization, he’ll try to find things for you to do together, always hoping that one of them will provide the right opportunity to tell you how he feels.

Abbacchio:

- To say that Abbacchio is emotionally stifled is an understatement, to say the least. This is just as true when he finds himself in love with his lady partner.

- His bluntness seems to double, and you catch him blushing now and then when you get close to him.

- Of course he’d like to tell you how he feels, but his low self-opinion prevents him, pretty convinced that a woman like you wouldn’t be happy with a disaster like him.

- But after a time… he’s not even so sure about that. You seem pretty happy as his friend, so… maybe… just maybe, he can take this one chance.

Giorno:

- Giorno wasn’t entirely sure how to feel about having a girl as a partner, most of his experience with them being his classmates at school, who he can tolerate, but would prefer not to indulge.

- But before too long, he and you have hit it off, and he finds your time together, be it business or pleasure, to be very pleasant. And in a short time… uh oh. He’s caught feelings.

- Being the first crush he’s had, he’s not sure what to do, so he tries simply being gentlemanly, like he would if he bumped into a woman on the sidewalk. But because of his feelings, he ends up being a bit awkward.

- Over time though, he gets a lot better at communicating with you! Perhaps even subtly flirting?

Mista:

- Mista… becomes a disaster area.

- At first it’s business as usual, missions go smoothly, but slowly, he starts to notice more about you that he likes. Likes a LOT. More than most girls he sees. The man is lovestruck before he knows it.

- After that, he makes it his mission to declare his love for you, but every. SINGLE. Time. Something interrupts him. One of the gang members needs to talk to you, a rival mafioso tries to attack, the Sex Pistols want food… it’s always something.

- Sometimes, his confession is even interrupted by his own stand getting impatient and wanting to ‘help’ him, leading to him cutting himself short and running off to scold them.

- He’ll put his feelings into words eventually, you just need to be patient! In fact, you’ll probably catch on before he can even say it.

Narancia:

- Narancia in love is like a puppy. He stays by your side even outside of missions, and is fiercely protective of you.

- If you offer to spend free time with him, you can see that he reacts even more excitedly than usual after he falls for you.

- The two of you have bounced off of each other incredibly well since the beginning, and Nara believes that’s because you must have been made for each other.

- He takes the first opportunity to confess his feelings to you, he physically can’t keep them to himself!

Fugo:

- When Fugo’s heart starts beating faster around his partner than it used to, and warmth fills his cheeks, all he can think is… “oh, no.”

- He really doesn’t want to be in love. … well, that’s not entirely true. It’s a nice feeling. But still, he doesn’t want to hurt you unintentionally.

- Slowly, he’ll let himself get closer to you. It’s a long journey for him to learn to trust himself around you. But with his feelings only growing over time, it’s more than worth it.

Trish:

- Trish doesn’t trust easily, but when she does, she trusts deeply. She doesn’t fall in love easily either, but when she does, she falls hard.

- She may not offically be a ‘member of the gang’, and you might not be her ‘partner’, but she certainly found a best friend in you!

- But one day, when you’re out shopping together, and she watches you try on a pair of ludicrously high heels and a silly looking floppy hat just to get a laugh, she suddenly finds you very cute, and her cheeks turn red.

- No. She did NOT just develop a crush on her best friend. No way. She falls into hard denial for weeks over it.

[tiaragqueen]

Bound By Pledge

✂ Pairing: Yandere! Kim Seokjin x Reader

✂ Word Count: 3,3k

✂ Trigger Warning: Hints of domestic abuse, obsessive and possessive behaviors, slight angst, yandere theme.

✂ This story is fictional and for amusement only. I don't believe any of the members would do this in real life. As always, thank you for reading and I hope you have a good day!

Do not re-upload my writing to another website or use it without my permission.

[Edited]

***

If you like my writing, please support me on ko-fi!

"Look into my eyes, you know I care. My heart is set. You are the one for me, but I need your loyalty." - Faithful [Ibeyi]

          To fall in love is easy.

          To stay in love is a challenge.

          To let go is the hardest part.

          Jin was a perfect boyfriend anyone could ever ask for. A whole package, you'd say. He was funny, kind, handsome, a pro in the kitchen, romantic, mature, and supportive.

          Never once did he try to downgrade your worth, or raise a hand during your increasingly frequent arguments. He was very patient and understanding; listening to everything you wanted to say without any interruption or dismissing them as unimportant. He cheered you up with his corny jokes and bad puns and supported you in every endeavor.

          In short, he was the kind of man that accepted his partner as a whole and brought them up. And if it wasn't a dream guy, then you didn't know what to call him.

          You wondered if there was ever a time where his patience would reach its end because surely nobody could be that tolerant, right? Everyone had a breaking point, you were sure of it. And with how you usually react, he was bound to reach his very soon.

          Well, you were wrong, but you weren’t correct either.

          You were the polar opposite of him in terms of personalities. You possessed dry humor, lacked in the cooking department, sometimes childish, stubborn, moody, and plain.

          There was absolutely nothing attractive to you. At least that’s what you always told yourself to the point of believing it.

          And yet, with a stroke of luck - or was it misfortune? Then again, who cares? - he fell in love with your ordinariness. The freckles that littered your face, the extra fat that you so desperately hid from seeing eyes, the grin that you often concealed because you weren't confident with your teeth. He adored it all.

          Every time you stood in front of a mirror, examining every flaw in your body because there was always something that you disliked, Jin would suddenly hug you from behind and proclaim strings of compliments. The way he did them, with that proud yet love-struck smile, as if you were the prettiest being he ever laid his eyes on. Although it boosted your confidence for only a few percents before it would drop again, you still appreciated the efforts.

          Not to mention, you'd never dreamed that you would hear such praise from such a handsome man.

          Aside from that, he also liked to bring home some gifts that reminded him of you despite your begging to stop. The presents weren’t cheap either, and usually contained things that you could only wish in a passing or sent a longing look towards. Nobody knew how he bought them when some of the items were clearly limited editions, or how he managed to know by any means when you never told him before, but it was the least of your worries.

          Stupid you. Always ignoring the red flags.

          The only thing you feared was the fact that he could go into a premature bankruptcy with the number of gifts he'd presented to you. He always laughed – that windshield laughter that you used to love yet irked you at the same time because how could he laugh so carelessly when the threat was looming over his head?! – and assured you that he had enough money for his future.

          “Our future,” he'd corrected himself.

          You remembered the way his eyes lit up like a pair of dazzling jewels; the way his lips stretched wider than you've ever seen before as he began to imagine the actuality of those words.

          The words that held the utmost sincerity.

          The words that contained hope of a happy ending.

          The words that should have brought you joy and relief.

          And most of all, the words that established everything.

          You should've known that happy endings only exist in fairy tales because not all people would stay with the same person until their deaths. The reasons varied; from cheating, boredom, forced to be separated, etc. And in your case, it would be fall out of love.

          Sometimes you questioned yourself how many people have felt the same way as you. How high was the percentage or maybe you were the only who experienced this? But it was impossible, right? Humans are different yet similar to each other. Just like basic feelings such as sadness, happiness, and the like, this sentiment wasn't alien too. You just hadn't found the same victim yet.

          However, if there was one thing you didn't know about Jin, it was that he was a true believer of a happy ending.

          If love at first sight existed, then surely happy ending exist too, right? At least, he could try to create it. Little by little.

          With a bit of hard work, nothing can't be achieved.

          Jin was so confident that you would marry him and have a couple of children. That you would get old together and watch your grandchildren running around. That you both would dance around under the moonlight until the chilly breeze was the only thing that remained in your place. That you would die together and end up in the same graves adjacent to each other.

          You supposed that you should be flattered that he already thought forward, even though it sounded a bit of a stretch. Unlike some of your exes who were still wishy-washy with their lives. After all, anyone would kill to have such an attractive boyfriend like him, as seen from the countless glances you often caught whenever you two go out on a date.

          But you didn’t. Instead, you felt as if you were leading him on.

          It wasn’t like you didn’t love him – you did. The love had burned bright like a blaze before it eventually grew dimmer into charcoal and embers.

          And just like how the curtains were lifted, the closing was a gradual process too; the once long texts began to shorten and scarce, the calls went missing, the frequent kisses became dull pecks, and the hugs lacked their warmth. You couldn't even remember the last time you've shared an intimate moment together.

          You didn't know if he noticed these signs, and frankly it hurt to envision his reaction. Imagine spending years with a lover - laughing and crying and venting as if it was their last day on earth - only to part ways just because one of them has fallen out of love.

          But it wasn't your fault, right? Life just didn't want you to be together, is all. Sure, it would leave a scar in your already fragile heart, but you would manage. You would move on like a strong, independent woman you were.

          If only it was that easy.

          Despite your impatient nature, you couldn’t find it in yourself to break up with him. The opportunity was there - it was always there, tempting you to take it like the forbidden fruit in the Garden of Eden - yet your fear of disappointing him hindered you to do so.

          But you needed to do it; for the sake of him and your conscience. You couldn't live with the regret of stringing him along when he could have someone better at his side. Someone that would give him the love and affection he deserved. Someone that he could marry and grow old later. Someone that would bear his children and, eventually, grandchildren.

          You might not love him anymore, but you weren’t cruel enough to keep him when you didn’t have the right to.

          “Jin,” you whispered once you broke the threshold of the living room. You had rushed home from work after hours of pondering, frustrations, and annoying colleagues that repeatedly asked your condition. You knew they were merely being nice, as you looked like you'd gone through a storm, but you weren't in the mood to speak. Unfortunately, some of them just couldn't take a fucking hint.

          Not to mention, there was always an obstacle during your supposedly short trip somehow.

          From bumping against a man and being scolded by him, the train took longer than usual, a crowd blocking your way to watch the police apprehended a thief, and nearly crashed into a car. It was as though the world had taken pity on Jin and conspired to prevent you from dropping the bombshell.

          Yet, you were determined. More than ever. You just hoped it would be a quick breakup.

          Of course, reality rarely aligns with expectations.

          Jin snapped his head up and beamed.

          “[Name]!” He dropped the magazine on his hands and bounced up to you like an excited puppy. You clenched your hands, forcing a smile. Why did he have to look so happy? It was as if seeing you bring all the joy into his gloomy world.

          You clearly didn’t deserve him, did you? Not when he greeted you so cheerfully, unaware of the bad news that you’d brought for him.

          Was this the right choice? Was it too late to back out now? Maybe this feeling was temporary. Maybe you still loved him.

          ... Did you?

          When he opened his arms to scoop you into a bear hug like he usually did, tears stung your eyes. He felt... warm. You exhaled shakily, cherishing the heat that radiated from his big body whilst controlling your breath. It was crushing to think that this would be the last embrace you received from him.

          The last time that he’d get to hold you like this.

          God, why did everything have to feel depressing once you finally reached the end? Why couldn’t you just break things off without these... these unnecessary affections? Why couldn’t you just say goodbye and be done with it?

          You reluctantly withdrew, discerning his frown from your peripheral vision.

          “Jin, I...” You gaped, struggling to get the words out without stuttering. Blinking the tears away, you cleared your clogged throat. “I don’t think we can continue with this anymore.”

          “What do you mean?” The response was spontaneous, and you noted – with a heavy chest – the slight panic on his voice. You silently ground your teeth, prepping yourself up, to tell the truth.

          “You know what I mean.”

          “Stop beating around the bush, jagi.”

          He was right; you should be straightforward if you wanted to end this quickly. What was wrong with you? Since when you've been this cowardly? You took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut.

          “I’ve fallen out of love.”

          The world froze for a moment. Soft, almost inaudible, breaths cracked the thick silence. Jin opened before closing his mouth again like a fish out of the water. It continued for a minute until he whispered a question.

          A question that you wished he hadn't uttered. But who were you to control what he said?

          Oh, that's right. An ex.

          “You’re lying, right...?”

          You shook your head, a few tears flying around. If there was one thing that you hated, it’d be crying in front of him. You wanted him to know that you were strong, but you couldn’t. Your feelings have betrayed you long ago, and now you had to suffer the consequences.

          “N-no,” you croaked out. “I really, really have fallen out of love with you.”

          “But we can still be together, right?” Jin stepped forward and took your hands gently, eyes glistened with tears.

          God, you hated that look. The look that told you that he was hopeful. The look that told you that he wanted to change things to the way they used to. But bringing back a perished feeling was no easy task.

          Then again, what he wouldn't do for you?

          “I swear, I’ll do anything," he begged, already on the verge of breaking down. His knees trembled underneath his blue jeans, and Jin wasn't sure if he could stand any longer. "I’ll even kill for you.”

          You gasped, completely thrown off guard with his statement. How could he say that so readily? So... willing to go through that process for the sake of you. Didn't he know the consequences of killing?

          No, he knew. Of course, he knew. Jin wasn't stupid. Yet, it still didn't make it any easier for you to digest.

          Breaking up with him was one thing, but to see him behind the bars was another thing. You couldn't, and totally refused, to imagine that. What would you explain to his family should something like that ever happened? It would ruin your relationship with them and your image as well.

          “God, no! You can’t. It’s illegal, Jin! You can go to prison!”

          “Who cares?!” he exclaimed. This was the first time he ever came close to yelling, and the context wasn't something you had initially planned.

          “No, Jin. You can’t just-” you flailed your hands around, unable to put the frustration into words. “You know what? I think it’s best if I go now. You obviously need to calm down and stop talking about killing because it's starting to freak me out.”

          You moved to leave, but Jin was quick to seize your wrist.

          “Don't go, please.” he pleaded, voice cracking along with your heart. “I swear, I’ll stop talking about killing if you just... stay. With me. I need you so much. I can't live without you.”

          It was poetic and had it occur some other time, you'd roll your eyes for its cheesiness.

          But now?

          Now, you just wanted to curl up and cried until there were no more tears left.

          “We’re over now, Jin. I can’t just hang around like we used to. It’ll be awkward for the both of us, knowing that we’re no longer a couple. And yes, you absolutely can live without me. I'm not your lifeline, Jin. You're an adult, so start acting like one.”

          It was harsh, and you admitted it wasn't really necessary. But you needed an outlet to release all this stress that built up inside of you because you didn't want to end up yelling at him. You already broke up with him, his girlfriend of five years. He didn't need another scar to decorate his delicate heart.

          You snatched your hand from his hold and opened the front door. “Thank you for all the memories we’ve shared together. I hope you find a better girlfriend than me.”

          “... What if I say that I only want you?”

          Jin was bowing his head when he whispered that, and you - stupid you - chose to stop and strain your ears to hear him a little clearer. “What...?”

          Bad mistake.

          Without further ado, a metal abruptly struck the back of your head. You collapsed on to the floor, discerning Jin's tall stature looming over you through the blurred gaze. It was a few moments of consciousness that you appreciated because you could see his expression before you fully passed out.

          He bore no emotions whatsoever, not even when he approached your limp body and started dragging you to God knows where.

          You fluttered your eyes open, staring at the familiar plain ceiling. How could you not recognize it right away, when you've stayed in this room for years? It was arguably one of the most memorable places in Jin's apartment aside from the kitchen.

          With a tired yet pained groan, you slowly sat up and froze when you heard something tinkling. Peering down, you noticed a pair of chains bounded your legs around the feet of the bed.

          “Those are the only thing I got from him.” A manly voice alerted you with another presence in the room. Your captor.

          You never thought you'd live up to the day where you would call him that.

          “Jin, you bastard!” you growled, forgetting all about his sensitivity because who the fuck cares? Not you anymore, definitely. “Let me go!”

          “Hoseok told me that if your partner refuses to be with you, then the only way is to tie them up.” Jin rambled, straight up ignoring your demand.

          Not that you expected him to. No kidnappers would release their victims without any reward or ulterior motives. Yet, it was nice to hope.

          “He did that too, you know. With his girlfriend and her older brother. Apparently, he was planning to get her out of the house because he felt that Hoseok was ‘too possessive for her own good’.”

          Jin huffed out an incredulous chuckle, combing back the brown bangs with his hand. “I mean, how silly is that? She’s his girlfriend, and yet that jerk had the audacity to separate them. He’s really blind to true love, don’t you think?”

          Silly for him, creepy for you. However, stubborn people rarely change their minds. This trait - which had eventually become his downfall - was what connected you two in the first place.

          “I don’t give a shit about your crazy friend’s story, Jin. Now let me go!”

          Sighing, he got up from the creaky chair that was a bit too small for his broad physique and approached you. You flinched when you saw his hand reach out to stroke your face.

          You might have held that hand before, but you'd be damned if you let it touch even a strand of your hair. Everything about him was pure toxic now.

          “Jagi, don’t be like that. I’m your boyfriend, aren’t I? Why won’t you let me touch you?”

          “Because we fucking broke up, Jin! Get it through that thick skull of yours that we’re over. Over!”

          “Just because we're over, doesn't mean I can't touch you." he retorted, tugging a lock of your messy hair. You cried out in pain as you clawed at his hand to ease the grip. "And you’re always like this. Swearing. I don’t like it.”

          “I don’t fucking care!” You gritted your teeth, trying to lessen the pain somehow. Although your attempt was futile, just as you predicted. You always knew that Jin had a bigger advantage than you, and yet you never expected him to resort to violence. Did the breakup mess him up that badly?

          “Seems that I need to give you a lesson, then.”

          Jin opened the drawer in one of the nightstands and pulled out a dark whip. Your eyes immediately widened as you backed away, already dreading the 'lesson' despite not having experienced it yet. Alas, the chains prevented you from avoiding the inevitable.

          Well, shit.

          “You know, jagi,” he said softly and had it occur on other times, you would’ve mistaken him for comforting you. You couldn't believe this was the same voice that you used to love to listen, especially in the early mornings. “I admit, I wasn’t expecting to use this so soon. I didn’t want to accept this at first, but Hoseok insisted. Saying that you’d surely struggle and I have to be able to discipline you like a good boyfriend I am. So, I hope you forgive me for my cruel method. I hate to do this, but you need to learn your lesson.”

          You shook your head frantically when he advanced towards you, caressing the whip. “No, no, no. Please don’t do this, Jin. You’re better than this, I swear.”

          “I know.”

          “Just let me go and I promise you that I won’t tell anyone. Just- please...”

          Lie.

          Of course, you'd tell the police. There was no way you'd let this crazy man roam free and take you back to this familiar prison. But telling the truth seemed less than ideal, especially in this kind of predicament. When Jin set his eyes for something, he wouldn't stop going no matter what hardships that were thrown. You hated and admired this side of him.

          “Ah, but that’s where you’re wrong, jagi.” Jin unceremoniously cracked the whip against your leg, relishing in the agonized cry from your trembling lips. The skin reddened, yet he was far more distracted with the tears that trickled down your face. “I don’t want you to leave. You’re stuck here, with me, just like we always do. Just like what we've promised beforehand.”

          He lifted your chin and slowly licked the tears. They tasted salty, but everything from you was sweet anyway.

          Even your pain.

          “I love you, [Name].”

[nauseateddrive]

I ALMOST KILLED MY FURBY by Kristine Brown

"One day, you'll say, 'I want kids.'"

Surely. Pfft.

"...so keep in mind that when you do have children, you know that..."

I find that when it comes to offspring, precedents are implausible. But, go on.

"When are you having kids?"

Thanks for your concerns, people older than myself. By the way, I'm twenty and I just moved in with the guy.

* * *

Many of these discussions took place in 2012. Today, I'm twenty-eight. A generous plenty say I look seventeen, twelve on days speckled with sunshine and free of humidity. I have not seriously dated a man in more than two years. Silence is joyful, and my bank account is calm. I should also mention that my vocal chords are so much less strained because I've hardly engaged in another argument about when to get pregnant, how many times, and who would perform tasks of necessity while the other did all the indoctrination. My first relationship - the only serious one I've had - was outwardly quirky in that Wall-E and EVE sort of way, but if anyone was our neighbor, he or she would tell a different story. My live-in boyfriend had a dogged coldness resembling Kevin Lomax from The Devil's Advocate, and my meltdowns were just as grating as Mrs. Lomax's pleas to just "make a baby." Oddly enough, he was the one proposing plans for The Spawning. I just wanted him to spend time with me more.

My opinion on kids? I would make for an unfit mother. Possibly because of maladaptive behaviors, my urge to crush Pepsi cans to bite-sized accordions, a desensitization to insults my friends would classify as "bullying." I couldn't possibly impart a set of ethics to foster happiness and prosperity in the life of a child. "Oh, but that would be my job, love bug." Let's assume that besides diapering, clothing, breastfeeding, and these advanced duties to follow, I couldn't possibly have any sort of influence on my child. Doubtful.

Sometimes, whether at work or in a doctor's office, I witness an angry child thrashing a baby doll, or a careless, soporific child who drags the tiny mannequin by the hair. The parent may reprimand the child, and might even say: "Look what you did to your baby. No, don't do that!"

I can't say I've had these experiences, at least at a very young age. I never took an interest in baby dolls. Now, I do remember having multiple miniature dolls either given to me by older children or found in the clamor of Saturday swap meets. I do remember the Ken and Barbie, not genuinely Mattel but sufficiently humanoid to warrant their being called such. And with the screech of cheap Velcro, their garments were gone, and Ken slept on top. Well, I thought they were sleeping, but adults were displeased with my mission in choreography. I never saw those miniature knockoffs again. Predictably, I was supervised as I played with the Native American doll set. The male was removed, and eventually, so was the horse.

The clarity of my childhood memories astounds a handful of people, partly because of my current tendency to gloss over details and fail to follow directions. I could readily retell the plots and messages of numerous commercials in the mid-to-late '90s, the older Generation X-ers nodding and smirking in a way that asks, "Why do you know all this?" I was especially terrified of public safety announcements. "Only you can prevent forest fires" disconcerts me as much as "Hi, I'm Chucky. Wanna play?” But one campaign I couldn't tolerate was the one with the shaken baby. The teddy bear etched in stone, the infant's screams in the background, a camera in a dance of epilepsy. Then you see the whole tombstone and something along the lines of "Our Beloved Child." I think I was five or six at the time, but that was quite a horror flick.

What the frustrated adult committed against the baby, I would replicate three years later. To my Furby.

We were better off then and at this point my parents had learned the rules of Keeping Up with the Joneses. But they didn't buy the Furby. Even now, I question the merits by which he entered our home. Oreo. That's what my babysitter's older sister introduced him as, placing the box in my twiggy little arms, pinching my cheeks because that's what people do to you when you're eight, chubby, and loudly pretentious. She was fired the week after. I still remember being asked if the Furby was supposed to be paid for.

So consensus states that Furbies are Satan's little mercenaries. Infantilized Gremlins, wingless bats with beaks, sorely mutated flying monkeys. Whatever they may be, and in whatever year they were manufactured and marketed, we know that each and every Furby could use obedience classes with S.T.F.U. Consulting (I suppose we should add "LLC" to this, protecting the venture from lawsuits should the classes not work). That little gem plastered onto their foreheads? I don't believe it was ever a sophisticated camera, or a recording device. I couldn't teach Oreo anything. If I couldn't make him dance like my friends could with theirs, how could my children follow simple rules? Not that I was making this irrational connection in 1998, but my friends often joked that as much as I carried that loudmouth around, he was "kinda" my baby.

Furbies have this creepy voice a bit too similar to that of an aggressive cougar you've either known or heard of with a burgeoning case of emphysema. Yes, I also remember some graphic anti-smoking ads. I think above all demands, mine's signature croon was "Hungry." I'd press my finger on its plastic red tongue to hear those simpering "Mmmm"s and so many "Hungry"s that wouldn't cease no matter how often I fed the damn thing. Frustrated, I'd bury Oreo beneath layers of blankets, chuck him in multiple pillowcases, wedge him beneath the wall and my mattress. His nighttime cravings annoyed us all. 

There was a point where I was reprimanded harshly for walking by Oreo during his "naps." We had had it with his shit.

We couldn't figure out how to turn the fucker off. Honestly, I don't remember anyone even taking steps to activate the Furby. He came into the world as is. It's eerily similar to those robotic babies they hoist onto high school freshmen in state-mandated health class. Abstinence only, this will teach you. And in those health classes I do remember some frustrated girls perpetrating acts of legitimate mannequin abuse. Kind of like those angry toddlers in doctors' offices. Oreo once again begged for food. I couldn't quite teach him to dance on cue. He never did anything other Furbies did in all the commercials. I knew you could rub them on the tummy and all, but I thought, "What if I turn him upside down?"

And he hung from my grasp, looking very much like an obese bat that lost its wings long atrophied. Characteristically, he screamed, "Weeeeee. Fun!"

My intention was to punish him. So I shook him.

"Weeeee. Fun! Tuba, woah! Do do do do do dooooo..."

(Oreo uttered this phrase multiple times. I could never really make out exactly what he was saying, but I am certain that he did say "Tuba.")

As my hands were too tiny for one to do all the handling, I tried to spin him around. Really, I churned the animatronic butterball in multiple directions, my arms growing tired, my frustrations projected.

"Woahhh! Woahhh!"

I continued with this odd punishment.

"Woaaaahhhh! Me scared!"

The cry was loud. But that "Me scared" was a bit unsettling. It was a mix between a coo and a gasp, like he knew what I was trying to do. But I continued in my campaign to silence Oreo.

"Whooopeeeee! Fuuuunnnn!"

Blatantly contradicting the sentiments expressed immediately prior. I continued.

"Woaaahhh! Me scared! Heeeee."

That "heeee" actually sounded remorseful. I felt a twinge of remorse. But it wasn't enough, as I did continue.

Repeatedly, he would cry about being scared. And suddenly, a snorting sound. And while he hung upside down, the base of his odd little person in the clutches of my white-knuckled hands, he spoke the awaited mantra.

"Wooooo. Wooooo. Wooooo. Something something. Cocoa."

(Again, it's often hard for me to properly recall exactly what that thing said. I'm pretty confident he said "cocoa." He had some decent taste.)

And silence. For a good two years. Despite several jabs and pinches in evenings to follow, Oreo persisted in his slumber. Or coma.

Twenty years later, and I'm ordering books on Amazon to better address my anger, impatience, and tendency to seethe. Babies, and children in general, stay absent in my plans. But really, no one would take the story of Oreo seriously enough in reviewing my constant fears. That day, I became a little scared of myself.

Kristine Brown shuffles between poetry, prose, data entry, and wishing she could properly fly a kite. She photographs strangers' cats and writes poems for them. You can find these poems on her blog, Crumpled Paper Cranes (https://crumpledpapercranes.com). Her writing appears in Hobart, Philosophical Idiot, Burningword Literary Journal, among others. Her novel, Connie Undone, will be released on March 1st, 2020.

[elesianne]

A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter twenty-four

Chapter summary: The winter before their wedding, filled with preparations and waiting.

Rating: Teen and up audiences; Chapter length: ~2,800 words

Chapter notes: This is a short chapter but the next, last one is a behemoth.

(Read on AO3)

*

Chapter XXIV // A winter of waiting

My beloved betrothed Tuilindien

begins the letter that Tuilindien receives from Carnistir only a short time after he went home.

 I found our house still standing like Curufinwë and Findaráto assured us at the harvest festival, and in fact they had made more progress on it during my absence than I had expected. Apparently their personal disagreements only spurred them to work harder, in some sort of one-upmanship. The basic structures of most walls are finished, and there is even a roof on most of the garden-side rooms.

 I have taken up residence in the most finished room, for myself as well as Cinder – that is what I named the kitten. It seemed the most fitting name for a black cat with orange eyes. Cinder did not much enjoy the journey here, but is settling in well. Her mother seems to have taught her well, for she has already caught two mice. She doesn't appear to be as sociable as Snowdrop, though, but an independent spirit who likes to keep her distance from me while sneaking to sleep close to me at night.

 Curufinwë does not approve of my moving into a building site, as he put it. He told me that I seem to have lost the last of my dignity and concern for appearances now that I am certain that you will marry me.

 I told him that it is my house and I will live in it if I want.

 The truth is that I am tired of the daily journey from the palace. Not because of the distance, mainly, but because there is little privacy there and I had to waste time every day talking to people I didn't want to talk to but had to for grandfather's sake, at meals and upon leaving and coming back at night. Here there are no distractions, just Cinder and I, and Makalaurë's house is near enough that I go there for meals as often as Tinweriel tolerates me.

 Spending the summer with you was delightful, but so is throwing myself into work here again, seeing our house grow every day, making it ready for you.

 I miss you already, though, and look forward to your winter visit.

 With love

 your Carnistir

*

  My darling Carnistir,

 I am glad to hear that you found the house in a better shape than you expected, and especially that little Cinder is making her contribution by catching vermin.

 I do not think that living in a half-finished building must mean loss of dignity, and it would certainly not make me any less likely to marry you if I hadn't already decided that I will do it. I cannot help wondering, though, as winter approaches, whether you and Cinder will be warm enough. Have you any source of heat there?

 It is silly of me to worry, I know. You know how to take care of yourself. But I spend a great deal of time thinking of you these days, even more than before. I am writing my treatise but it does not take that much time, and I do not have any particularly ambitious goals for it. I write a little, I help look after Aiwië, I spend time with Cirincë (I have kept up the riding lessons we began in the summer) and I think of you. That is how I spend my days.

 I admire your industriousness and I love you for working so hard to make us a home. I only hope that you make enough time for rest as well, though you now live there in the middle of your work.

 As for me – as the forests and fields on the mountainside settle into winter, as the days grow cooler and many of the songs of birds fall into silence, I find that my heart has settled into waiting. First for my visit to your city, and then for the move to Tirion. I have already gone through all of my things and decided which ones I will bring with me. I am just waiting to pack them and give most of the rest to Cirincë.

 Carnistir, I have never before found waiting this hard. Perhaps because every day, I say goodbyes in my heart to the people and places and things I have always lived among – and every day, I miss you so. I feel bare and alone now that you are so far from me that I cannot feel your spirit in our connection, no matter how hard I try.

 When I miss so that it feels like it must surely eventually become unbearable, I take off the ring you gave me and I read the words inside. I feel warm, then, and comforted by the strength of your affection and your promise to me.

 And I count the days.

 Your Tuilindien

*

As late autumn is turning to true winter, Tuilindien rides to Tirion. She has only a groom and a maidservant with her this time, for this three-week visit is for her to begin building connections and making plans for her future in Tirion, as well as for wedding planning.

She stays at the palace once again, as a guest of Indis and Finwë. The queen takes her role as hostess seriously. She introduces Tuilindien to all of her ladies, many of whom are Vanyarin, and invites her to so many meals and activities that Tuilindien's days are easily filled. She has no time to feel lonely, though this is her first time in Tirion without any of her family.

For she spends time with Carnistir, too, of course, and is invited to dinners at his family's house as well as Makalaurë and Tinweriel's.

'It is very nice to have Carnistir and you both here', Tinweriel tells Tuilindien the first night that they dine there. 'Carnistir has been a very frequent dinner guest lately, but despite my best efforts in training him, he is still not much of a conversationalist. When I asked him to tell him about his summer on the plains with you, he spent the entire meal explaining winemaking methods to us.'

'He devoted himself to learning them', Tuilindien replies.

Tinweriel smiles at her over the rim of her wine glass. 'A loyal reply', she notes. 'But tell me, what did you two do for fun?'

Tuilindien does her best to answer that. On the whole, dinners with Makalaurë and Tinweriel go well. She is glad for it. Makalaurë and Carnistir are close, and Makalaurë's house is also physically much closer than Carnistir's parents' house. Fëanáro and Nerdanel's home is almost on the opposite side of the city from the property Carnistir bought. Tuilindien has not dared to ask whether that was a contributing factor to Carnistir's decision to buy it.

Besides dinners and entertainments, Tuilindien visits members of the scholarly community too, finding out what projects are going on and whether there is something she could contribute to.

In the end she decides on teaching, though. For there is a need for a teacher of language to the children of the court – the offspring of royal advisors, courtiers and ladies-in-waiting, court musicians and poets, seneschals and officials. Tuilindien will teach some of the more advanced students varieties of Quenya that they do not yet know, and the basics of Valarin, and the script of Rúmil.

Fëanáro raises his brows when she tells the family of her plans. 'If you believe that taking on the role of schoolmistress is a wise beginning to your life here –'

'I do', Tuilindien interrupts, for she is learning that it is best to assert herself with him.

'Then we wish you all the best in it, dear', Nerdanel completes her husband's sentence. 'May your students be more obedient and interested than our little terrors.' She smooths down Telvo's hair affectionately while he protests the description.

Three weeks pass fast. When they come to their end and Tuilindien prepares for farewells again, Tuilindien pleads with Carnistir once more to let her come see the house.

'No.' Carnistir dodges her kiss. 'You can kiss me as many times as you like, vanimelda – I shall like it very much if you do – but it will not make me show you the house yet. Not while it is half-built. It is coming along well but at the moment it looks hardly better than the old house at the time of our betrothal. I want your first impression of it to be good.' He grows serious. 'You do still trust me with the house, don't you? You've told me that you have faith in me making it a good home for us both.'

'Of course I still trust you. I am only curious, so very curious',   Tuilindien admits sheepishly. 'Impatient, too. But I will bear it. Let us go through the plans I have drawn for the garden instead. What do you think of this layout?'

Carnistir bends down to look at her notes. They are inexpertly drawn but that does not seem to bother him, to her relief. He points out some things that would not work, and Tuilindien listens intently and makes corrections, and touches his knee every now and then.

*

Tuilindien is relieved when, upon returning home for the rest of the winter, she finds that while she still counts days and looks forward to her wedding, the impatience does not make her unable to enjoy the time she has left with her family and friends.

She spends much time with Cirincë, for her younger sister is sad. Tuilindien's temporary absence appears to have made her rapidly approaching more permanent departure much more real to Cirincë.

Tuilindien tries to console her with promises of visits, to little effect. In the end they just spend as much time together as possible.

Lirulinë spends more home in the family home than she has for years, too, though that might be because of the many eager arms that there are there to cuddle baby Aiwië. Little Cantiel, only a few years older than her niece, is fascinated with the baby too, and babbles to her for hours about everything and anything.

Cantiel receives her mother-name at midwinter, the whole family with aunts and uncles and grandparents gathered to hear it.

Sailiel gathers her youngest daughter close to her and raises her voice for the announcement.

'It is a little early, but she is not the baby of the family anymore', she begins. 'And now that she speaks and plays with language, I would like her to have a name with more personal meaning.' Tuilindien's mother glares at her husband who gave their fourth daughter a father-name meaning 'fourth daughter'.

'I knew I could trust you to gift her a better name', Ingolmo says innocently.

'Darling daughter.' Sailiel lifts Cantiel in her arms and brushes her hair tenderly out of her eyes so she can gaze at her. 'I wish to give you the name Wilwarindëa.'

Cantiel tilts her head. 'Like a butterfly.'

'Like a butterfly', her mother confirms. 'For you run around the house and garden, just for fun, from one family member to another like a butterfly flutters from flower to flower.'

Wilwarindëa grins and looks over her mother's shoulder to her sisters. 'I didn't get a bird name', she declares to them jubilantly. 'I got a butterfly name. The only butterfly name.'

'Congratulations, Wilwarindëa', Tuilindien tells her, suppressing her own grin.

*

Preparations for the wedding have gone well, especially when one takes into account that the bride has participated in them by letter for many weeks. Finwë and Nerdanel have borne principal responsibility in making the arrangements, with Carnistir relaying Tuilindien's latest wishes and vetoing some details on his own behalf.

'We will not have an entire orchestra playing at the wedding, Cáno. It is a celebration for family. If you keep suggesting it, I won't let you and Tinweriel play at all', Carnistir had to threaten during one meeting.

'It's an orchestra Tinwië and I belong to, so there's no reason it couldn't perform at a family celebration', Makalaurë argued. 'There was an orchestra at our wedding.'

'It was your wedding', Carnistir pointed out between clenched teeth. 'This is mine and Tuilë's. We're less…' he wants to say pompous or dramatic, but that would be too rude '… grandiose people.'

Finwë played peacemaker. 'People do have different tastes and desires, Makalaurë. I'm certain that Carnistir will be very grateful if you and Tinweriel hold an intimate performance at the wedding. You do not need an orchestra to make beautiful music. Is that not right, Carnistir?'

'That's right', Carnistir muttered, and with that the matter was finally settled two weeks before the wedding.

Arguing with Makalaurë had felt strange. Moving back to his childhood home for the last two weeks before the wedding feels stranger. He only does so because his mother and brothers beseeched him to.

He finds his room much like he had left it, only a little tidier. Carnistir runs his fingers over the books and papers and other things he'd left behind as unnecessary. After over three years away, it almost feels like they belong to another person.

It is no matter that the room he lived in since he was a child doesn't feel like his anymore. He has a new room elsewhere, one that is only missing the finishing touches now, and he didn't come to his family home to spend time in his room anyway. He came to spend time with his family.

And he does just that, as much as he can spare time from working to make sure the new house will be habitable if not finished by the time of the wedding.

He plays with his youngest brothers and takes them riding and listens while they tell him everything they've ever thought of – that is how it seems anyway.

He tells them that he won't see them any less when he has married Tuilindien. More, very possibly, since he won't be as busy with the house project anymore.

He feels certain, without asking Tuilindien, that his little brothers will be welcome in their house even if they visit often and leave a mess behind. It is rather wonderful, being certain of things like that.

'My new house is on the other side of the city but that is not a problem', Carnistir tells Ambarussar. 'You've become good riders in the last few years. You are not to just hop on your ponies and ride there, but if you ask mother or father for permission and for a groom to accompany you, it should be no problem for you to visit frequently.'

The twins beam at him and Pityo lets out a small cheer.

'You must always be courteous to Tuilindien and do as she asks', Carnistir hastens to add.

Both Ambarussar looks offended that Carnistir thinks that they might not be the most courteous children in all of Aman. 'Of course we will', they say in unison, which adds to rather than relieves Carnistir's fear that they definitely won't behave.

He ruffles their hair, anyway, and tells them to go beg the cook for something sweet they can all share.

*

A week before the wedding day, Tuilindien with her whole family arrives in Tirion.

Carnistir embraces Tuilindien tightly as soon as he sees her, and tells her, 'You are a day late.'

Tuilindien's eyes are bright with tears of joy. 'The roads were terrible', she says with a half laugh, half sob, trailing her hands through his hair. 'The mountain-paths especially were muddy with melted snow. It is not the best time of the year for travelling.'

'But it is an excellent time for a wedding, for I could not wait a day longer than the six we still have left.' Carnistir holds her close, nuzzling her neck. 'I have no words for how glad I am that you are here to stay this time.'

Tuilindien sighs. 'As am I, my love, to truly stay with you finally, with no goodbyes in sight.' She strokes a gentle hand down his back. 'Right now, though, we must join our families for dinner.'

'They can wait a moment.'

'They have already waited. Come now, Carnistir.'

At dinner and during the socialisation afterwards when his family member and relatives whisk Tuilindien away from him, he observes her, especially in relation to the few women already in his family. Tuilindien is shorter and more slender than his mother, and dressed in lighter colours, blending in more with the marble of the palace; she is more quiet and more still than Tinweriel with her witticisms and wide gestures.

Yet he knows where she is in the room at all times, no matter how many more colourful or louder people she is surrounded by. Even without looking he knows where she is at any moment, and feels better than ever for knowing that she is there, never far from him.

*

A/N: In the next chapter, the long-awaited wedding day with its night.

I can't believe there's only one chapter left! And then some sequel fics, if I manage to write them.

Also: total wordcount for this fic is now

!!!

[sea-and-storm]

HEARTBREAK;

This is a real heavy drabble. REAL heavy, to the point that I hesitated in writing it. But it ultimately has plot relevance so here it is. Please take care of yourself and don't read it if you aren't in a good spot mentally to take some serious heavy feels!

[TRIGGER WARNINGS] Rape mention, domestic abuse mention, abortion, and just generally not at all a happy drabble. Take care in reading if you proceed!

(P.S. went back and cleaned up my writing a bit with an edit. :v)

-------

A couple weeks had passed now since Ghoa had slept in her own bed. Ever since the night of the celebration of the Kharlu warparty's return, she'd been able to find no sense of safety except when hidden away in Togene's tent. Even though the other was just another wife to Bayanbataar like herself, the older woman was the closest to a mothering figure that Ghoa would ever get within the Kharlu camp. And she was the only one that the young Mankhad trusted enough to share in what haunted her.

Of course, her odd behavior had begotten questions, most notably from their husband. Bayanbataar had demanded to know why his newest wife was acting so strangely, scarcely leaving Togene's quarters. The fourth wife had assuaged his temper and offense by reassuring him that Ghoa had fallen ill. With her having always been a loyal and loving wife, he hadn't suspected any deception from Togene. So, if not reluctantly, he had allowed her peace and rest 'til the Haragin saw fit.

Even so, Ghoa had known that that reprieve had a time limit. Togene had reminded her of that as well, in her own kind and gentle way. She couldn't stay hidden away forever. Eventually, Bayanbataar would grow impatient -- or worse, suspicious -- and demand her return to routine. She knew that whether she was ready or not, she would have to face her husband again sooner rather than later. Worse yet, she would have to face Tugan again and pretend that nothing had happened, and that was a thought that made her blood run colder than the winter seas.

But even though she knew that returning to her life was as inevitable as it was imminent, that hadn't made the thought cause her body to stop seizing up with fear. It hadn't made the nightmares come any less often, nor cause her to wake up in a cold sweat on any fewer occasions. How was she supposed to return to normal when it felt as if she would never know the feeling of normalcy again? Time was supposed to heal wounds, it seemed that the only thing time had allowed her was to fall deeper into the clutches of despair and fear. Especially now, after this latest and most cruel twist in her time spent amongst the Kharlu.

Togene had been the one to realize it first, naturally. When she had begun to put together a fish stew -- which she knew to be the coast-dwelling woman's favorite meal -- she'd watched as the smell that usually roused her spirits at least for a time caused her stomach to churn. As she'd held back the younger woman's hair, she'd asked her warily when last she bled. Only then had Ghoa realized that in the span of all that had happened, she hadn't realized that it should have since came and went. And that connection had her heaving all over again.

What a sick joke the gods had decided to play on her. When the initial shock of realization had worn off, she had jumped rapidly between fury and betrayal, to sadness and worry, to fear and panic, and right back to anger until she had completely tired herself out.

Togene herself had seemed conflicted as well. She had always told Ghoa that once she became a mother, her life among the Kharlu would become easier and she would finally find contentment with her lot. She hadn't quite meant it like this, Ghoa knew, and she could see that she was grappling with her own emotions. And there was something else besides in her eye. Some manner of concern seemingly not for the younger woman herself, that had her worriedly looking to her own young son cradled against her chest as she held him closer.

When she had woken from her rest, Ghoa's mood had calmed to a dull, numb aching. She awoke knowing that something had to be done. There was no scenario in which she could bring this child into the world. Either it was the offspring of the man who had stolen her from her home and made her his slave-wife, or it was that of the man who had taken her for himself out of envy of the first. Whichever case it was made little difference to her.

The hardest part would be making sure that didn't come to pass, or so she had thought. She would have to have Togene's assistance and she had thought the woman would be hesitant or resistant to her plea for help. It had surprised her when she had asked for the other's help in discreetly bringing to her what herbs and reagents she needed that the woman agreed right away. Was she truly that sympathetic? Or was she simply trying to protect her own family from the inevitable conflict that would arise if word spread that Tugan had done what Bayanbataar could not, whether or not that was true? Either way, she didn't question it for fear of causing the other woman to doubt her choice.

Over the next few days, Togene had quietly gathered what herbs and plants Ghoa had sent her after. She supposed that she had Unegen to silently thank too for her tutelage in herbalism, remembering her strict lessons on exactly which concoctions not to give to expecting mothers. And once all components of the draught were within her hands, it had taken her but a few bells to put it all together into a thoroughly unappetizing but drinkable solution.

But now as she sat there with it ready in her hands, it was not half so easy to lift to her lips as she had thought. Her hands trembled, her eyes stared into the glassy surface of the dark yellow-green liquid inside the earthenware cup she held. Her eyes suddenly blinked rapidly, tears welling up unexpectedly and rolling over her cheeks.

Seeing the emotion swelling, Togene leaned in close, her hands coming to rest over Ghoa's own around the cup to steady them. Her head craned downwards to catch her gaze, and to hold it once she had.

"Oh, sweet girl," she cooed softly. "Would that I could take this pain away from you.. It hurts me to see you hurting." One hand moved from the cup to her cheek, brushing away a tear with her thumb. "You are sure about this, yes?"

Ghoa hesitated at that question. She had been certain of it before that she hadn't really stopped to think about it. Now that the moment had arrived, all those doubts she hadn't considered before had pounced like hungry gedan upon a straggling sheep. Now she had to truly ask herself:  was she really sure?

Togene's advice from moons ago still rang clear in her head. If she was with child, Bayanbataar's hand would still against her. Perhaps even the deep resentment he felt towards his apparently barren, and to him useless wife might disappear or at least fade. She might be able to finally tolerate a life among the Kharlu with his rage calmed and with something -- a child -- to focus her attention on other than her own plight.

But.. could it really be that simple? No, she knew herself better than that. Even if her husband's abuses stopped, she would still have to find means to live with the deep fear Tugan instilled within her. Worse, if the child was his and such came to light, she wasn't sure that her husband would be so willing to believe that a hurt had been committed against her. As tense as their relation was, she couldn't see it as impossible that Bayanbataar might kill her for suspicion of transgression against their marriage -- no, his ownership of her.

Most convincingly all, however, was knowing that no matter the father nor the circumstance, she would never be able to be a good mother to this child. She had been raised having never expected to raise a family, given that the udgan of her people weren't afforded such luxury. Without that expectation, she had grown into a woman out of touch with any sort of mothering instinct. That, combined with the fact that in either case, this child was one borne of violence against her by men she reviled..

All children deserved love, and she knew she would never be able to give it. And it pained her deeply to think she would resign a child to the same loveless raising as she had had herself.

"...yes," she answered, voice quiet and strained but certain. "I'm sure."

"Then you needn't torture yourself, Ghoa," Togene cooed soothingly. "If you are sure, then drink." She leaned in and pressed a kiss her forehead. "I'm right here. I won't leave your side, dear."

The tears began to flow heavier and quicker at that, but all the same, Ghoa finally brought the stoneware to her lips and tipped it back. It was bitter against her tongue, and between it and emotion, it threatened to rise from her stomach again. But she swallowed, and she kept it down, and she collapsed into sobs within the comfort of Togene's embrace and the slow stroking of her hair.

The other had told her but a few weeks ago when this had happened of Sechen, the escaped wife returned. That horrific tale had terrified her out of the thought of running. But now, she knew she had to escape anyway. She didn't know how or when, but she had to escape eventually.

No matter how strong she tried to be, Ghoa couldn't withstand this sort of heartbreak a second time.