#this is so bizarre and random i can't stop laughing

[houseofborgia]

Annoying blog, always posting millions gifs of shows most people dgaf

then why can't you seek other blogs instead of being this heated and popping muscles over what i post lol

[thethingything]

looking at the clock like "ah it's 11:05pm. time to spend the next 2 hours carefully trying to make sure our brain doesn't flip its shit" because for some ungodly reason 11pm to 1am is still the time of night where we inexplicably feel like shit

[ever-eilish]

Hi could you do a Billie x reader where they’ve been arguing for a while now and y/n went to Billie’s studio and she seen Billie with some other girls at the studio

Spare keys

billie eilish x reader

fights between couples are normal, and when you decide to make up with Billie, your girlfriend, you discover something that would haunt you forever.

author's notes: hii!! sorry for disappearing!! I'm happy to say I'm back now ;) thank you so much for your request, I hope this was what you were expecting, I decided to make it a bit more angsty, so let me know what you think! once again, english is not my fist language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy💕

warnings: cheating, some cursing and angst with no happy ending

You always knew that fights between couples were normal, that even when you love someone more than yourself, there will always be something that bothers you about the other person. And that's the difference between a good couple and a toxic couple: good couples can deal with their differences and go through it together; toxic couples hold on to these differences and make a big deal out of it.

At this point you don't know what kind of couple you and Billie were.

You loved her, obviously. Her smile enchanted you, her stupid jokes made you laugh and her blue eyes would make you decide that blue was your favorite color.

The only problem was that you didn't know if she loved you.

At first, it was all very subtle. First it was one of her bouts of jealousy that would be resolved in some kisses and making out on the sofa in her mansion. Then, an idiotic fight about who should wash the dishes, which was once again resolved with a few more kisses, hugs and promises of eternal love.

However, over the past few months, the fights were no longer so simple to resolve.

"Holy shit, Billie! I asked you not to go out with her, since she's clearly flirting with you all the time." You scream with your hands on your head "and what did you do? You went out with her, and on top of that you hugged her all day"

"Stop being dramatic!" Billie says. "She's just a friend"

"Marlena is a bitch! That's what she is" you say, grimacing as you mention the name of the slut who's been keeping you up at night.

"Don't talk about her like that!"

You freeze. Was Billie really defending the bitch who tried to kiss her a few days ago and then just said she was joking?

You shake your head at the bitter memory of your last - and perhaps worst - fight with Billie.

You and your girlfriend hadn't spoken since the day of the fight about Marlena, and you were feeling bad, really bad.

Maybe it was all a misunderstanding and maybe you just exaggerated, right? Right.

Billie is your light, and you can't lose her to a stupid fight. You have been through so much; this is just a troubled phase.

With this thought in mind, you get up from the bed - in which you had been lying since you stopped talking to your girlfriend - and get ready, deciding that you will surprise her. Putting on some worn jeans and a random shirt from your favorite rock band, you walk out the door of your apartment in downtown Los Angeles, and head towards Billie's studio.

You knew that your girlfriend would be recording today, since Finneas - her brother - had told you that they were both there, knowing how much you cared about his sister.

After passing a few meters, and laughing at some kind of bizarre Spider-Man that hung from the ceiling of the first subway station you took, you finally see the studio doors.

Out of breath, you just say your name to the angry-faced security guard, hand over your ID and he lets you in.

You run to the place where you knew Billie was and finally see the dark blue door, which had a transparent circle in the center that allowed you to look inside the cabin. With a sigh of relief for finally having found the correct location, you extend your right hand to open the door and enter the place, however, before you even enter, you decide to take a peek at the transparent circle, and that's when your world stops.

Wearing a pink mini skirt and a transparent black blouse, Marlena is sat on Billie's lap, apparently watching her do something on the computer.

Everything you ever believed in was shattered in a matter of moments. How could Billie have done this to you? While you were crying and brooding, was she with Marlena?

Tears well up in your eyes and you just can't move.

Suddenly, everything made sense. All the times she stood up for Marlena, all the times she canceled your date night to go out with Marlena, all the times she wouldn't let you take her cell phone. Everything makes sense now.

You wanted to scream, you wanted to go into the studio and break all the equipment. Pull Marlena by the hair and make her regret messing with your girl.

And Billie? You wanted to kill her. You wanted to kill her for deceiving you, you wanted to kill her for making you believe that you were the love of her life, you wanted to kill her for making you fall in love with her.

However, that's not what you do.

With a defeated sigh and stubborn tears that insist on falling from your eyes, you turn around and head towards your home.

On the way, you don't laugh at the bizarre Spider-Man on the subway, you just head towards your house.

When you arrive at your apartment, you realize that every corner of this place is haunted with pieces of Billie, and you decide that maybe it's time to move out.

Laying down on your bed, you snuggle into the comforters and cry for what seems like an eternity, until you hear a very familiar voice call you from the room.

"Hi, love, I'm sorry for everything, can we talk?"

Damn time you gave her the spare keys.

[veryace-ficrecs]

Tim Drake & Jason Todd Fic Recs

This list will include all ratings and tags, so read at your own discretion! :)

Optimally Sentimental by sprx77 - Rated T

Jason feels the tension fall completely out of his shoulders. Babyest bird is not feeling unsafe, right now; Tim doesn’t get this bitchy around people unless he trusts them. Random civilians and corporate fuckwits, they get soft-spoken, laughing Timothy Drake. Anyone Tim’s not quite comfortable with-- people he has to impress, like the Justice League-- get the world’s most perfect and efficient Robin. Seriously, it’s terrifying. He wears his competency like a sword and doesn’t bother with a shield. So, a snarky Tim-- a Tim who lashes out, without regard for if he’ll be hit back-- is a trusting Tim. A comfortable Tim.

Voicemails About Vital Organs by AshWinterGray - Rated T

Tim's missing spleen comes back to haunt him, and Jason is the only Bat and Family Member available to deal with the problem. There are some realizations, and Tam is just so do with these idiots.

Marlboro Reds and Birthday Wishes by crowclxb - Rated T

Tim can't ever remember the quotes he thinks describe his feelings. Also, everyone forgot his birthday. Not Jason, though. Tim just doesn't know that.

Swaddled in Warmth During Cold Times by melennui (orphan_account) - Rated G

Tim is chilly in the manor, but it's summer and it shouldn't be cold. To remedy this, he makes a hammock and gains a nice moment with his brother too.

i cry with anger / i have done no crime by CosmoKid - Rated M

They replaced him. Talia had told him that, taunted him with the grainy photos of a scrawny little kid in the Robin costume. A tiny little runt of a kid, dwarfed by the looming presence beside him. Fuck, did Bruce just hang around a pre-k and grab the first unfortunate kid whose parents were running late for pick up. Except no, Bruce replaced him with the rich little brat next door. The better, upgraded version of him; the newer, the shinier, the better version. The kid Bruce wanted Jason to be. The Robin Bruce really wanted. Timothy Jackson Drake.

take a chance on me by destiny919 - Rated T

"Hey, Stalker," Jason says without lowering his binoculars. Tim creeps out from behind the air conditioning unit and lets out a put-upon sigh that doesn't really fit a ten-year-old.

bright smile (and they can't see behind it) by AstraEllis - Rated T

Now that Jason's come home and actually spending time with his family, Tim figures his job is done. He kept Batman from self destructing, he was a halfway decent Robin, and Jason's home now. They're whole again, and they don't need Tim. Jason has some things to say about this assumption.

personal space by lawltam - Rated G

Tim gets hit with Ivy's pollen. He doesn't even check who he sent his outgoing help message to until he stumbles downstairs and spots Jason.

Adopt A Rescue! by sardonic_sprite - Rated G

I'm Bean. I'm very shy, but sweet, and I loove snuggles! I get very scared without my big brother, so we need to get a home together!  I'm Hunter. I don't trust very easy, but I'm very smart. We may not be litter-mates, but Bean is my brother and we stick together no matter what!   "Bean" had squirmed back out from underneath "Hunter" and was pawing at the glass again, looking right at Bruce. But he wasn't just pawing at the glass, he seemed to be making a pattern... "Oh, my God."

Breaking and Entering by Terranpheum - Rated T

Tim isn’t having a good day when he decides to use one of Red Hood’s safe houses as a rest stop. Only, the safe house seems a lot more comfortable than normal and isn’t as empty as he was hoping it was.

and i'm so sick of seventeen by Anonymous - Rated T

“You know this is bizarre, right?” “Jason, I’m just asking for a tiny favor—” “Tim, last week I watched you synthesize, in real time, a whole new organic compound for one of Crane’s toxins, on the fly, with half your guts hanging outside your body. How are you failing eleventh grade chemistry?” (Or; Tim gets Jason to help him with his chemistry homework. They bond.)

carry you home in my teeth by windupclock - Rated G

Jason takes his helmet off before he goes to deal with his replacement. He’s not expecting a hug. He gets one.

Only One Thing by Lulu_Rythmea - Rated T

"You're a great hugger, kiddo. 10/10 would hug again." "... you will? Really?" "Yeah, baby bird. Whenever you want." How far was that promise meant to go? OR: The fan-made sequel to destiny919's "Last Request".

hit me like a shooting star (so i can make a wish) by Ms_Trickster - Rated G

“He broke my camera!” Tim wails, incensed. “Not a crack, not a dent; it’s nothing but a pile of glass because he broke it!” “And his ankle,” Robin adds. “And my ankle!” “...I accidentally hit him with my car,” Batman reluctantly offers when Dr. Thompkins raises her eyebrow at him, causing her to choke on her next breath. (Or: One evening while birdwatching, a ten year old Tim Drake gets run over by the Batmobile.)

Whiplash by Lunette3002 - Rated T

When Barbara called to tell Tim that one of his safehouses had been broken into, he wasn't expecting to find an unconscious Red Hood. OR Words like "whiplash" can have two meanings :)

Bridges Not Yet Burned by Kgraces - Rated T

Somehow, they keep coming back to this: Tim, Jason, and a Batarang

Little Overlooked Dreams by Lunette3002 - Rated G

Tim weighed his options. He was alone at night in some alleyway in Gotham. He had nothing except the clothes left on the ground by someone and the cloak wrapped around his skinny shoulders. His camera was nowhere in sight. His backpack was gone too. He brought the device to his ear. “Hello?” Whatever talking had been on the other end of the line immediately cut off at his hesitant greeting. “Who is this?”

[coralcatsea]

Random thoughts regarding different fandoms:

(I've seen/read these, I just don't engage with the fandoms that much. These are just thoughts based on what I have seen of the fandoms.).

Death Note: Endless memes. Constant poking fun at all the overthinking going on. Putting these dramatic characters in goofy scenes about cake and friendship. The jokes never get old for me. I don't see much discourse, maybe an occasional conversation about whether or not Kira was right. 😆

ATLA: Zuko getting teased. Kataang and Zutara battling it out while Zukka laughs and slowly rises higher, taking more and more people as it goes. I'm not that interested in the ships, but Sokka ships are the best. NATLA wins the "not as bad as you could've been award" and "the effects were decent". Lots of fun analysation.

Percy Jackson: I feel Nico is a fan favourite. The main discourse I've seen for the fandom as a whole is whether or not Annabeth treats Percy well and whether or not Piper is annoying. A lot of people compare Percy Jackson and Harry Potter (the characters), and those who have read both seem to agree Percy is better. Like ATLA, there's a new live-action series that is a mixed bag, but much better than the old, horrible live-action movie (and sequel) in the past.

Zelda: DOWN WITH KOROKS vs STOP KOROK ABUSE. Everyone loves Sidon senpai. Glory to Master KOHGA. Most of the stuff I see right now is BotW/TotK related, but there's still some good stuff for other games, as well as the AUs people do with different Links meeting. Midna is the best sidekick.

Hazbin Hotel: I'm wary since there's LOOOOTS of discourse in this one. The fans can be pretty funny, though. I love the song edits and that there's a whole ship tag for Vox's unrequited obsession with Alastor. I also like watching people analyse the characters and writing.

Helluva Boss: Well...I once again like watching people discuss the writing. But I am hesitant to engage with any fans because I have a weird relationship with this show and don't think I really qualify as a fan. 😅 I watch it because it's so bizarre to me I can't look away. One time I gave characters different colour schemes for fun, and I got a bunch of annoyed asks from someone taking it too seriously. 😆

She-Ra: Catra Applesauce Meowmeow is a poor little meowmeow. Cat. I like the cat memes. I also love the comparisons between Scorpia and Kronk. Entrapdak is probably one of the better ships, yet has haters for some reason. The accusations have the same vibes as Beauty and the Beast accusations.

Owl House: Tons of Lumity. Personally, I'm more invested in Eda and her relationships with the other characters. Belos and Hunter get compared to Ozai and Zuko. Hunter is very popular. Everyone side eyes Disney for what they did. HOOTY SUPREMACY HOOT HOOT.

Miraculous: The Adrien vs Marinette discourse makes my brain hurt, but I'm glad we all pretty much agree Astruc does everyone dirty. Canon? What's canon? Usually I like and try to follow canon. Not here. Who tries to follow canon in Miraculous? The fans write the show better than he does. Love all the fan comics I see for this show. Chloe could've been more interesting. We all make fun of Smooth-Brain Gabe. We came for the Love Square and then started to hate it. Then Emonette and Emodrien came and reignited our interest.

[grapenehifics]

I love love your work, Some Technical Difficulties. The way you write their character is so golden. I am so glad we got another chapter.

How do you think went their first meeting, like how did they meet in the first place? How did they fall in love? Or do we know that and I just over read that?

Anyway thank you for your great work!

Thank you! And I do, in fact, have an answer for that!

So let's say Shmi died a few years previously, and then Cliegg died after her (based on the fact that we see him in AotC but not in RotS this seems a reasonable assumption?), so Anakin's been back in his hometown for Cliegg's funeral. He's been miserable, because he hates his hometown, that's why he left in the first place. So he's flying back to where he lives now, but deeply grumpy, of course.

Obi-Wan's on the same flight - he flies between the US and the UK for work regularly - and usually work puts him up in business class but there's been some kind of storm and a bunch of flights got re-routed and canceled so he's been bounced around a bunch of different airports and is tired and dirty and frankly is not even sure where he IS, at the moment, but there's a departing flight that's got one seat left, in coach, and he snaps it up. This leads to him sitting next to Anakin who, again, is in an even worse mood than usual.

Anakin's trying to mope but then the most beautiful man he's ever seen sits down next to him and suddenly he finds himself motivated to flirt, which is something he does so rarely he has absolutely no idea how to go about it but he is very determined; he is not going to let a little thing like being completely clueless stop him and is not at all afraid to make a fool of himself.

Obi-Wan, being Obi-Wan, often has strangers on planes trying to flirt with him and he's honestly pretty over it by this point, but Anakin's so fucking clueless that it's almost endearing, the way he keeps trying increasingly bizarre ways to strike up a conversation, and it's not like Obi-Wan has anything else interesting to occupy his time on this flight - he's been in the air so long that he finished all his work hours ago - and he figures chatting with this weird stranger will at least make the time go faster.

They find a kindred spirit in each other when they use the time to make fun of the other passengers who, like Obi-Wan, are unexpectedly finding themselves in coach, but unlike Obi-Wan, are not handling it well, and now Anakin's even more into him because not only is Obi-Wan gorgeous but he seems to also have a bitchy streak and a sense of humor, too (and isn't put off by Anakin's...Anakin-ness).

Their plane finally takes off, but gets rerouted anyway because of the weather and Anakin's mood sours because now he's going to be stuck in this random airport all night. Obi-Wan, instead of just complaining about it, actually does something useful and pulls out his phone and books a hotel room. He tells Anakin that it has two beds anyway, and Obi-Wan promises to be a perfect gentleman but Anakin might as well come with him instead of sleeping on the floor with his backpack for a pillow, or else the extra bed will just go to waste.

Anakin does take him up on the offer but he's very prickly about it, suspicious that Obi-Wan has some ulterior motive because he can't just...be being kind, can he? No one does that. Only it turns out Obi-Wan really is a perfect gentleman and does not make a single move on Anakin all night long and lets him have first turn in the bathroom.

Anakin lies in bed, offended, now, that Obi-Wan seems not to want him. What's wrong with Anakin? This is the perfect opportunity for some sex - they have a hotel room to themselves, nowhere to be for hours, he thought they'd liked each other and made each other laugh - but now Obi-Wan's acting like there's a radioactive forcefield around Anakin and won't come near him. Anakin being Anakin, he bullheadedly basically ambushes Obi-Wan as soon as he gets out of the shower (fully dressed, because he's trying to be respectful) and demands to know why Obi-Wan hasn't jumped him yet. Obi-Wan says, "sorry, darling, never on a first date" and gets into bed.

Now Anakin's lying their in the dark thinking about darling and date and gets even bolder because apparently, somehow, this is going well?? Obi-Wan takes him out to breakfast the next morning and Anakin sees him being outrageously kind to all the servers and leaving giant tips and Anakin's pretty sure he just fell in love for the first time in his life and they haven't even touched each other yet.

They do, finally, have to split up in the airport onto different flights but they exchange email addresses, and once Obi-Wan is home he starts to realize both that Anakin is a lot less abrasive in print, and that waking up in the mornings to a new email from Anakin is fast becoming his favorite part of the day.

The next time Obi-Wan flies out for work he, rather hesitantly, asks Anakin if they might like to get together, and Anakin is so jazzed about this invite that he neglects to mention that he doesn't actually live that close to where Obi-Wan is flying into, but he makes a day of it and takes the train because he's just so desperate to see him again. After doing this a few times Anakin starts looking for a new job that IS closer to Obi-Wan's usual airport, so he can see him even more, and that's how he ends up working with Mace and Padme and those guys.

Or, sometimes Obi-Wan flies Anakin out to see him for the weekend, instead (as seen in chapter 2 when he meets Cody for the first time), which is why (in chapter 1) every time his coworkers think he's hungover he's actually jetlagged from hopping back and forth over the Atlantic ocean in a single weekend.

Eventually they both realize this is more serious than that and hatch the plan to get Anakin a work visa and a transfer to the UK branch so they can be together for real, and almost immediately get married :)

Thank you again; this was fun!

[madaboutmunson]

Number Of The Beast (Part 13 of 17 of Fire)

You manage to get the boat moored correctly, grab your things and head back to the van.

"Fuck!" You hear Eddie exclaim as he gets to the side door, "Urgh, idiot!"

"What's wrong?" You say concerned.

"I left the van open." He whines and starts searching through everything. You assist where you can, he'll call out something random, and you try to find it until you exhaust his mental list.

"Weird…they didn't take anything" he stays still rustling around, "ah wait, he picks up your last Tupperware box and holds it up. It's empty and busted open, "Maybe just some impatient stoners after my stash?"

"Well, I know it's like a violation of your stuff, but at least it's all still here," you say, stepping to the back of the van.

Squelch. Is the last thing you hear before you are rocketed onto your back, staring at the van ceiling, "Ewww gross, what the fuck?" Your skin crawls, only imagining what you just fell into. You get up and open the back doors jumping outside, trying to wipe most of whatever it was from your clothes.

"Eddie, can you help me, please. I'm covered in something." You say, flicking the goo from your arms and hands onto the floor. Disgusted didn't really cover the sensation you were feeling. Repugnant, maybe, but no words seem to cover the feeling of wanting to peel your whole outer layers touching this stuff away and sitting in the shower for a week.

Eddie goes to follow you out the way you came. You throw your hands up, sending some goo into the sky that lands on your head, "No, Eddie, STOP! Go the other way" your command does the trick and saves him from a fate similar to yours.

"Fucking gross", you mumble to yourself, still trying to wipe your arms and legs down.

"Oh! Oh no!" Eddie puts a hand to his face, "What the fuck?" He trots over to help you but is highly amused at the same time, "Oh honey, I think maybe this prank was meant for me."

"Eddie, what the fuck even is this stuff. Honestly, I'm thinking the worst and feeling really, REALLY, grossed out right now."

"I think we can rule the worst things out." He says, wiping some from your back, "probably just a ton of lube or something."

"Lube??!! Oh, come on, seriously. Why would someone do that?"

"Because it's kind of funny", Eddie says, struggling not to laugh.

"All right, sure, laugh it up, why don't ya," you say, putting your hands on your hips, and immediately pulling them away, causing the grossest noise you ever heard. Then, you close your eyes and pray for the ground to swallow you up.

"Hey, listen, listen. I can't help you with the whole situation, but I do have a bunch of hellfire t-shirts in the back, all different sizes. Maybe we could make something out of that?" He says, stifling his laughter in an attempt to comfort you.

"Can you just bring them out here, so I don't take all this back in the van with me?" you say, starting to shed your layers, "maybe something to put my gross clothes in, please?"

He nods, hurries back to the van, and brings out some boxes and a bucket.

"I'll pay you back for the tees, Eddie. Sorry about this."

You tie up your hair, dump all your clothes as quickly as possible, save for underwear into the bucket, and quickly dive into the t-shirts.

You find one to fit your top half and grab a second that you rip the collar of and climb into like a skirt, tying the sleeves like a belt. It looks bizarre, but at least you are at least 90% less goo now.

You glance at Eddie, who is looking you over, nodding his head. "You know what? Yeah, great job, looks great," he says, picking up the bucket and boxes and transporting them back to the van.

You breathe a sigh of relief and just start laughing to yourself quietly. It was much easier to see the funny side of things once you felt less like swamp thing.

You hear a rustling in the long grass to the side of you, "Haven't I suffered enough for one night, Eddie? Stop messing around, dingus!"

"Wow!! Sorry for helping you in your sticky situation. I'll be right out!!" You hear him yell from inside the van.

Your eyes dart around in the dark. It's entirely still now, whatever it was, "Say, Eddie? You think maybe you wanna start the van up?" You say back to him nervously.

"Of course, dear, just let me add it to the list of things I AM DOING RIGHT NOW", he yells in annoyance but then immediately pops his head around the door.

"Eddie, angel cakes, please start up the van." You say with a tremor in your voice, staring into the dark and backing up to the van.

"Oh shit! Shit! SHIT! SHIT!" you hear the back doors slam, and you get hoisted into the van. Just as something pounces out of the night at you, only for it to be met with the side door that slides in between you.

Eddie vaults into the front seat and starts up the van. You scramble for the black lunch pail, clutching it tightly and jump into the passenger seat.

A thud to your window as what looks like a many-toothed starfish tries to latch onto it. You both scream at it, and Eddie puts his foot down.

"Did you see that? That's like what you said. Its face was opened. Oh, fuck." You say, gasping for breath.

"JESUS H CHRIST, I FUCKING KNEW IT!!" he yells, hitting the steering wheel.

"Except that one…" You say with your voice trembling, "Was not rat-sized."

Eddie gulps, "What do you mean?" He says worriedly.

"I mean, it pounced out of the grass, at me, like rottweiler sized. Fuck, it was gonna eat me! Jesus Christ!" You say, putting your head in your hands.

Your mind is abuzz with what-ifs until something hits you like that creature hit the glass. Your eyes well up, "You saved my life, Eddie. Like properly saved me. I could be in snack-sized pieces." You move over as close to him as you possibly can and squeeze him tightly, planting a thousand tiny kisses on his cheek.

"Hey, calm, please. I am still trying to drive here." He says with a small laugh.

"That was very…heroic of you." You say and gently squeeze his shoulder.

He looks a little sheepish, "I'm usually not much of a hero outside of D&D", he half smiles.

"Well, you're definitely mine now…my hero, I mean", you add quickly.

"I could be both," he says, drumming on the steering wheel, looking over to you quickly, then back at the road.

Before you even get a chance to enjoy that statement, you hear a scraping and creak above you, "Eddie, I don't think it gave up. I think it's on the fucking roof!!!" you recoil and scream.

Eddie grabs for his seat belt, "Buckle up, now!!" He shouts, speeding up.

2 clicks later, and the breaks slam on. Something is catapulted to the ground in front of you, but at the same time, several thuds come from the back of the van.

"Fuck!" Eddie says, eyes wide with fear at you.

The creature in the headlight lumbers towards the van, its head opens up and screams at you, but the scream is coming from all around.

Eddie puts his foot down again, and the van screams down the road. Once enough ground is covered, and the mirrors are free of those things, Eddie slams on the breaks again, a few times. Nothing flies off. No scraping or thuds.

The van engages top speed again, careering through Hawkins until you leave the other side of it. It's only when you get to the next town over and are at a gas station that you actually stop. You both leave the van tentatively. Then, as Eddie fills the van up, you stand immediately beside him, looking around for anything hurtling towards him.

He puts his hands on your upper arms, "Hey, we're ok. I just need to grab some things, and I'll be right back. You'll be able to see me just fine from inside the van, alright?"

You nod, trying to shake off your own feelings of terror and also wanting to make sure Eddie remained unhurt.

Eddie goes in and emerges safely from the gas station store, his arms full of bags. As he drops them into the van, there is an audible thud, and through the window, you see him filling up a large gas canister with fuel. He waves over at the cashier, who give him a salute, and jumps back in the driver's seat, throwing you some candy and sodas, "These should help with the sugar crash", he says, starting up the van again.

You look behind you into the bags. Sharp bits of metal and chains, bullets, some sort of knives.

"Holy shit, what is all that?" You say, moving away into your seat.

"So I just noticed that the guy behind the counter had a few warzone-type things on display that might help with the bobcat problem I told him that we have. He was eager to discuss all of these items at length and how useful they are. Especially after he saw you sitting in the van alone. I mean, obviously deep concern about this guy, but I did get a discount, so you know, it was worth it. I'll be prepared next time."

"Next time?" You say with alarm.

"Yeah…Seeing those things…I mean, that alone was fucking horrific…but I can't let them…sure, this town is a cursed shitshow, but it's my cursed shitshow…and one of those sons of bitches tried to fucking eat you, man." His face and voice are strained.

"I know, but maybe I dunno, we just don't go out at night, or something? I've never seen them in the day."

"…and what if they make more of themselves, now there is a group of them? Then what? We'll be overrun. All of us. Everybody. Even if we ran, they'd find us. They keep finding us."

"Eddie, we can't fight those things. We need to tell someone about it."

"Ok, firstly, there is no we about this. Secondly, you don't think I tried. After the wedding, I called a whole bunch of places, pest control, animal control, and the police. I mean, I couldn't really say exactly what I saw. So I had to twist the truth a little."

"No, we about this? What, you're going to fight them alone?! Have you lost your mind completely? No way, no fucking way."

"I JUST ALMOST FUCKING LOST YOU ALRIGHT!!!" he yells, hitting the dashboard. You move away in your seat. His brow furrowed with anguish, he cracks his neck, "I'm sorry, sorry for shouting, don't move away" his hand reaches out for you, "Just if I had been a second later. You wouldn't be here, gone, eaten by that thing, and I'd be…well…I don't know what I'd be…fucking alone…half of myself…broken…a shell of a person. I won't let that happen. I won't let them take you from me! No fucking way!"

You grab his outstretched hand and notice a tear spill down his cheek, "Fuck!" He says through his teeth, trying to hold in his frustration.

"But you expect me to let you go up against those things alone. What if you don't make it? What if you go out trying to save this place, and no one ever knows, Eddie? For what? I would burn this town to the ground a thousand times before I let you throw yourself into harm's way for it. How could I ever live with myself knowing that you sacrificed yourself to defend me? You expect me to just carry on like it was a favour, like, "aw, that's nice of Eddie to kill himself for me. I'll just run along to school now". This isn't D&D. We don't get to come back. It's very, very final. And It's not happening."

"You have no idea how it feels to be around you. The amazing impact you have on your people. What will they all do without you? You can't leave us to play hero, Eddie. You are already a hero, not for grand gestures like tonight, but for what you do every day for the people you care about and all the outsiders, misfits and loners looking for shelter in a storm? We'd all be very lost without you, or you know, become an arch-villain-led cult and start researching necromancy."

"We found these things together. So let's end them together. Me and you, back to back, against the world. If I fall, then at least know I got to go out on my own terms. Outside of my circle, I don't care much for this town. But if it's what you want to do. I want to be right there with you. I do not want to sit helplessly on the sidelines."

Eddie pulls over, "Come here, you idiot", he says, opening his arms at you, which you dive into, squeezing him tightly.

"Not just any idiot," you say, muffled in his hair.

"No…my idiot." He says, smiling and cradling the back of your head.

Full fanfic list

[indigobackfire]

💜 for Rosalyn with maybe Duncan

(I hope you don't mind me adding a random barnago fankid that only exists in an AU 🙈)

Rosa opens the door to the artifact room with a sigh. "What is it now-"

And though Rosalyn was expecting trouble, rarely Oberon called anything an emergency, those usually came from Teddy, the scene is a tad weirder than she had expected, on the corner of the room sat a boy with a pumpkin over his head with two unevenly sized holes for eyes and only his loose Ravenclaw tie and white skin for characterization, yet she didn't have to ask to know who it was.

In the centre, her cousin paced in the constricted space, coming to a stop when he sees her. "Oh, great, you came- Why you have a toad on yer head?"

"I was taking him out on a walk when I received your owl."

Oberon pokes the toad who seems to be sleeping, gripping her hair for stability. "You take your toad on walks?"

"Is that Rosalyn!?" The boy exclaims, the German accent clear even with his voice muffled by the pumpkin. "I can't believe you called her!"

"Well, well, I'm glad I'm welcomed!"

"I said I called help! You're often the one with these types of ideas, I thought you might have an idea on how to solve it."

"Seriously, Obby? It's such a silly spell, I bet you can undo it yourself!"

"The problem is, this isn't Melofors! If that was the case, I could just smash his head against the wall and it'd all be fine-"

"Excuse me-"

"-but this dumbass is wearing an actual pumpkin!" He finishes knocking on it. "Which he made near indestructible."

"How?"

"I adapted a shielding spell, I can teach you later if you get me the fuck out of this!"

Rosa knows it'll be for nothing, but for her amusement takes the fruit and shakes it just for the fun of it. "Indeed, it's stuck."

He waves her hands away. "What a keen eye!"

"How did you get it in there in the first place?"

"I shrunk my head and waited for the spell to wear out while inside the pumpkin, otherwise it would slip out."

"May I ask why you did it?"

"I wanted to see if I'd be able to make a helmet combining a breakable pumpkin and a shielding spell. And it worked."

"Can you ever use your head for something reasonable? You could change the world, but nooo."

"Will you bully me or will you help?"

"Can't you just shrink him again?"

"I dinnae ken what spell he used to make this thing indestructible, but it's also working as a barrier on him. Just look."

Oberon takes a stance perfectly before performing a Flipendo that deflects from Duncan's chest and hits the wall above their heads with a smoke stain. He also tries an Incendio that ends in mere sparks.

"See? Nothing."

"Awesome right!? I'd keep this on forever, the problem is I can't eat, I can't perform spells for some reason, and oh, I am close to suffocating."

"Perhaps, we should just allow natural selection to do its job, don't you think?"

Oberon takes her arm. "Rosa, please. Flitwick must cry at night because of him and this week was going so well..."

"I'll give you all the candy I get from Hallowen!"

"You hate candy."

"And I could give it to anyone else!"

She rolls her eyes.

"Please, Murk, think of something, it's starting to get slimy and gross in here."

She taps the toad on her head with a laugh. "That's it! Slimy and gross!"

"Ha, I don't like the sound of that..."

"Me neither."

"What's more slimy and gross than your animagus form, huh? The octopus must be small enough to fall through."

"First, I am offended, second, that's a great idea." He rubs his hands together. "Okay, Onion, hold it for me."

Oberon does so with a eye roll and within a heartbeat they watch him fall to the ground with a blobbery sound, the brown octopus almost camouflaged against the wooden floor. The scene is bizarre as they watch him turn back into a boy, head covered with remnants of slimy pumpkin guts.

"Ha! It worked!"

She holds her hips and looks at her cousin. "See? Us Gryffindors aren't as stupid as you claim."

"I never said Gryffindors were stupid, if I did mum would have some things to say."

Duncan wraps his arms around her, kissing her cheek loudly and making pieces of pumpkin fall on her. "You're the smartest, Murk."

"Get off me!"

"C'mere! Let me thank you!"

She hold out her hands. "Keep your promise and that'll be enough. Ugh, you get me some good candy."

The two Ravenclaws watch as she walks out, taking her toad in her hands checking if any pieces of guts had fallen on it.

"Thanks for not telling her it was me who called," Duncan says.

"You played the part quite well. But maybe you should just be sincere, lassies like when you consider them important."

"They do, but not when you have yourself stuck inside a pumpkin!" He taps Oberon's cheek. "Oreo, you might have the face but I have the technique."

[moonlitlillypop]

I can't imagine feeling comfortable reducing a whole human being to "TikToker" just because I refuse to see nuance to the point of inventing new and significantly more inane prejudices. These are inside thoughts. Did you think people would agree with you blindly shitting on someone just existing? For the crime of, what, being considered funny when she's views herself a comedian, partially? Oh no someone with clout, everyone quick throw peanuts! We can't LIKE each other! Anyway, you can't get me to care about someone who made a Tumblr account and was SEEN talking to people and trying to make them laugh to brighten their day. Can you imagine? Pressing a few buttons, and making content for people to look at? How disgusting of them. They should delete their blogs. Because this is logic that makes sense. /s

Remove the "don't be a jerk" from your bio or reflect on your behaviour. One of the two. Leftatlondon is just, a person. Who happened to get clout. Under the difficulty of capitalism and especially as a trans artist, I don't blame her at all for using her vine clout to make money and anyone who does is no better than the idiot customers throwing a tantrum because their waiter had self-respect. She's a fucking entertainer trying to live and work, and she's someone I could send a message to exactly like this. This vendetta Tumblr is increasingly developing against letting anyone fucking exist is so unhealthy and bizarre, you guys really fucking ate that propaganda from political invasion circa ~2015 that derailed yet another revolution wind-up and never stopped. So i mean it genuinely: please reflect, because there's a damn good reason we haven't succeeded yet and being easily fooled in to assuming a random woman making internet funnies is the enemy to the point of wasting your time shitting on her for no reason where many other people can see is definitely one of the many 2023 consequences of that and I seriously doubt Maya, the one you were pitting against her, would agree with you on at all. This is extremely anti-human and anti-the cause. I think it'd be upset you were doing that, even. I thought about pinging her to ask but opted to spare it from looking at your rancid fucking comments. Good fucking lord.

You don't have to give a shit or know anything about tiktok but giving a shit about human beings is kind of the whole point of leftism so if you can't do that you're really not as left as you think you are.

I don't know how many times activists can tell you you can't pick and choose like that and you are shooting yourself in the foot every time you attack a stranger over a base-less assumption, and everyone sees you do it and doesn't want to be around you for it. Is that what you want? You baffle me.

I'm trying to do actual work to make the world a better place but every time i look at any post it's so many fucking anti-human comments like yours, that make me want to rip my hair out make me lose faith. If we can't even afford a fucking internet stranger the basic decency of not shitting on them for no reason, we definitely can't build a better future. The stress has been making me PHYSICALLY sicker, I know I'm not alone in that fact—and you're contributing.

I seriously hope you learn from this instead of doubling down on your behaviour. I'm not sure what to expect at this point, but my hopes aren't high. I hope you surprise me. I sincerely hope you're better tomorrow. Delete this if you want, but please for the love of god think about the consequences of your actions.

I hope you have a nice day.

Despite your behaviour.

It is really not that deep. I just don't give a shit and I don't want to. Unlike you who seems to give way too many shits

[ismaet]

Housekid AU Part 3

Part 1 here

Part 2 here

Idea: Casita raises Mirabel

Perspective shift

Mirabel was the first to break. Again.

She had been making Kuya Mariano a looser shirt (his Guard training was giving him so much muscle it's getting ridiculous) one afternoon, finishing off the last of the adaptation stitches (she loved making him new clothes but repairing the arms everyday was such an annoyance) along with some cleaning ones, when the 13 year old himself strolled into the sewing room holding two cups of Chocolate Santafereño.

He sat down beside her with a heavy thud, then whistled in appreciation at the elaborate bucks prancing on flower paths stitched in a beautiful asymmetric pattern from the shirt's shoulders down to the waist.

"Ay, Miraposita! You're getting better everyday!" He smiled, offering her one of the cups as he gently ran his fingers over the finished parts of the embroidery. "It's so cool!"

Maybe it was the sweet smell of the drink, maybe it was the soothing tiredness that came with accomplishing a task, or maybe it was the genuine appreciation in his tone for her work- Mirabel will never know.

"You really think so, hermano?"

Not missing a beat- because he's big old, adorably dumb, supportive and caring Mariano -the older boy nodded furiously (not at all noticing Mirabel's panic). "Of course! Look at the detail! The color and- see? The shine! You're so talented, hermanita!"

Then with a wide smile, his hand reached out and ruffled her curls.

"I can't wait to wear it!!!"

(Her mother was laughing at her, she just knew it. If she didn't then, she definitely did when the same thing happened with Senora Guzman and it took poor Mirabel until 3am in the morning to realize.)

"Good night, Abuelita!"

"Buenas noches, nieta!"

Mirabel, 8 hours later, waking up in a cold sweat: "Wait-"

(Ugh, Mami! Can't you see I'm busy dying inside?)

Somehow, the acknowledgement of siblinghood between the Guzman boy and the youngest Madrigal girl made the following months a hectic storm of fun, bizarre, and strangely educational chaos.

With the increased comfort they had in each other's presence, Mirabel had taken to teaching Mariano parkour, while Mariano had taken to pulling a Casita and deciding that teaching an almost 7-year-old how to use a machete was good payment for her free-running lessons.

Suffice it to say, they had given Senora Guzman more than enough near heart attacks to last a lifetime.

"Hermano! You think you can jump that?"

"Mira! You gotta swing- no, not like- yeah! That! Put all your weight into it! You gotta mean it!"

"Yano, no, you have to duck your head and roll. And- wait! Don't land on your heels!"

"Swing! Up! Down! Swing it, Mira! Swing! Woah, don't over do it- ACK!"

"Catch me, hermano! Ha! You think you can just- wATCH ThE TILE!"

"Okay, just like that, you have to take good care of your machete, otherwise you're just gonna be swinging around an extra hard piece of wood."

"Repeat after me- Yano, please -Don't lock your knees. Ever. ¿Comprender? Buena."

"Okay, it just occurred to me that you are small (Wha- ow! Hey! It's true!). So, how about you try moving your entire body with the swing, not just your arm? Like...hmm... come here, Mira, let's try this..."

"Yeah, yeah! That's it, hermano! Fly, Fly!"

"Dance with me, hermanita. Let your blade sing."

Of course, they didn't stop with just Parkour or Machete fighting- no no. Mirabel then taught Mariano the art of sneaking around, making his footsteps so light they could be mistaken as the scuttering of rats. Mariano, in turn, taught Mirabel all sorts of things his Papa had taught him: hunting with a bow and arrow, repairing things around the house, riding a horse, etc.

You would often see the two children popping in and out of random points in town, either training a skill or learning a new one. A common occurrence during days when Mira didn't have a sewing lesson was a race from La Casa Guzman to a chosen house. They would take turns on using the rooves, horses, or pure speed and endurance on the roads- sometimes, they'd even get other children to join in on the fun. Now, those days were just an utter maelstrom of befuddlement and confused joy.

Though, no matter how chaotic a day would become, Senora Guzman could always count on her two children to return home safe and sound.

Either it be Mariano carrying his precious sister in his arms, or Mirabel riding a horse with a snoring Mariano securely, comedically tied down behind her- it didn't matter. Both would be images forever imprinted onto the old woman's mind, and she was once again thankful for little Mira's sudden, literal drop into their lives.

What would it have been like, if she hadn't?

Casita was very, very pleased with her Candelita's growth. Her threadwork was improving, her Gift was developing quite nicely (she can already feel it shifting sources), and she had even started her ascent to becoming the Madrigal Matriarch- she emotionally adopted two people already!

And that's not even mentioning her better social skills and mental state!

(happypridelove)

Ah, they grow up so fast. One moment she's fumbling with a mop handle and the next she's dancing with machetes.

Hmm... Her little Candelita's birthday is almost upon them again (so soon?). And it wouldn't do anymore, for it to be celebrated by two people alone. But her daughter has yet to reveal her identity- though, not for the lack of trust, mind you. Just simply the lack of a proper moment.

Casita checked the state of her magic.

It's stable enough (though, the piece of her in the Lantern feels strange- she'll have to investigate that later); the Flame's not flickering, the cracks small and slow... it's probable.

Casita grinned then, focusing on young Mariano's location.

Time to make a proper moment.

Her daughter won't have to be alone for another birthday anymore, no senor. Not on her watch.

Mariano was panicking.

Did he do it right? Does it look okay? There- that's good right? Wait- is that a strand or- no, that should be darker-

"Mijo," His mother said, amusement in her eyes. "She'll love it." Her hand was a comforting weight on his back.

"She could do better, honestly." Mariano nervously laughed.

"She could," A light tap to his forehead. "But that's not the point now, is it?"

Mariano looked at the door to the sewing room. Then to the calendar. Then back to the door.

"You sure she won't hate it?" He repeated.

"She won't, Mijo."

Seconds ticked by. He inhaled. "Okay."

With only a bit of fumbling, he hid the present behind his back, and knocked on the door.

"Mira?"

"Come in!"

Mariano walked in, eyes instantly drawn to his hermanita's latest work. It was a shawl, dyed different shades of light green in an asymmetric gradient, embroidered with roses of darker emeralds. As always, it was breath taking.

"Hey, Yano! Abuelita!" Mira greeted, smile already putting the almost 14-year-old at ease. She raised the shawl, presenting it in various angles. "What do you think?"

"It's very beautiful, nieta." His mother said, hand reaching over to caress the detailed stitching. "Such threadwork! Who's this for?"

Mira giggled, then with a twirl and a flourish, handed it over to his mama. "Surprise!"

If he wasn't still nervous, Mariano would've laughed at the flabbergasted expression on his mother's face. In the end, he settled for a fond smile.

"For... me?" She asked quietly, grabbing the shawl with a gentleness that should've been reserved for fragile glass. Mariano couldn't blame her. The first professional level stitching Mira had allowed him to handle, he had done the same.

Mira's grin turned a touch bit shy. It was adorable.

"Yeah...um, as thanks? For letting me learn here. For letting me use the sewing room. For the breakfasts and fabrics and -f-fo-for everything. For teaching me." She fiddled with her hands as she anxiously awaited Mama's response. They were probably very sweaty.

Mira didn't need to worry though, Mariano thought as his mama's eyes glistened. The hug that followed between the two certainly confirmed it.

"Oh nieta! Thank you! And it was an honor being your mentor, mi pequena costurera! You were the best student I've ever had! This is beautiful!"

Mariano couldn't help but quip. "She's the only student you've ever had, Mama."

"Even better!"

Mira's laughter was of twinkling bells. There was relief, joy, and- most plentiful -gratitude emanating from her little body as she was spun around and around in his mama's arms, the shawl trailing after her in her grip like ethereal, wispy wings.

That image was what stripped away the last of Mariano's nerves; and so it was with a puff of air that he grinned wide, catching his hermanita's eyes.

"Hey Mira?"

"Heheha- ye-yeah, Yano?"

"You're not the only one with surprises today, you know."

"Huh?" The little seamstress blinked, confused. Mariano's grin got a little bit excited.

"Yep! Last week at training, someone told me something very important. In fact, it was so important I rushed home immediately to do something about it. Do you know why that is?"

Her face should be illegal. It should be against the law to be that cute.

"...No?"

Mariano softened, and with a flourish and a twirl similar to her own just a few minutes ago, presented his gift.

"Happy Birthday, Mira."

A butterfly crown made of yarn, thread, and the softest of fabrics.

His hermanita gasped softly.

Seeing tears, Mariano gently lifted the crown above her head, and placed it upon her curls with the gentleness of the early morning breeze.

Mira's eyes practically sparkled as she looked at her reflection on the mirror mama had prepared. She was beautiful.

"You... made this... for m-me?" She whimpered, echoing the earlier words of her abuelita.

Mariano smiled. "Of course. It's not as good as it could have been, especially if you had done it instead, but... I hope you like it, Mir-oof!"

Who knew the little 7-year-old had such strength?

"Happy birthday, Mira." Mariano repeated as he hugged her back. She was so small, so precious.

Mira's grip was tight. She mumbled something against his shirt.

"Hmm? What was that, hermanita?"

She mumbled it again, a bit louder. He felt something... loosen in his mind. Or- that's not quite the word- perhaps, more accurately, unlOCKeD-WhereDidShECOMEFROMWHO'SFAMILYDOESSHEBELONGTOWHOAREHERPARENTSSHEHASBIGBROWNEYESABIGADORABLENOSESHORTCURLYHAIRSHE'S-

"Mirabel," She looked up at him, afraid, happy, grateful and relieved.

"My name is Mirabel Madrigal. And I love it, hermano, thank you."

(Later, after the revelations, explanations, acceptance and proper celebrations were done, the Lantern Flared- while the Candle Flickered.)

Perspective shift

"Knock knock knock knock knock, knock on wood," Casita's little Seer muttered under his breath, watching the Family breakfast the morning after her daughter's 7th birthday.

A birthday that has, like her 6th, not even been noticed.

"Juli, Gus, what are you doing?" He asked, knowing the answer.

His hands rhythmically tapped against his table, quiet enough to be mistaken for the scuttling of rats. The vibrations accidentally knock off a few wood shavings onto the floor.

"Your Butterfly's flying away," He said somberly, sadly, "The Flame's led her to the Deer in the forest, she's leaving, she's leaving."

His hands sought activity- finding it in the chisel that laid inert near an unfinished, yet still beautifully crafted crown. Clearly a labor of love.

"You're not following, you're not, you're not," He lamented. "You should be right beside her, sharing currents, the sky, but you're not. Everyone does, will, have, though. I Saw. Unfair, unfair to her."

He looked at the ceiling.

"Unfair to you. Why didn't you tell them?" He asked again, also still knowing the answer.

Casita clacked her tiles with him in unison.

"You shouldn't have to," He groaned in acceptance, gently dropping the chisel and switching to ruffle his head of hair. "I know, I know, but, but, but- this is a problem, needs, needs to be addressed."

Casita hummed in bitter, sad amusement; then drummed a few bamboo into a question.

Would they listen?

At that, her Seer looks down, hair in a tight grip of frustration.

"Juli, Pepi- they would, they should, but," He trembled, "We wouldn't be having this talk, if, if they did. Too tight. Too tight. Mama's holding too tight. I'm choking, Casita. We're choking, Casita. My mouse, my mouse, she's not, not yet, but the noose is still there, Casita."

He looked up at the ceiling, this time pleading.

"Can I still follow my mouse, Casita? Can I still call her my mouse, Casita? My vision, my vision. Will she know that I left for her, Casita? My mouse, I miss my mouse, Casita. Am I too late, Casita? Is the rat left to rot, away from his mouse, Casita?"

Casita had only one answer.

His door shook, then glowed bright.

(It's about time for the rat to come home.)

Perspective shift

Mirabel associated her Tio Bruno with the ticks of a sped up clock. His Gift only justified that fact.

He knocks on his wood, he taps his feet, he clacks a finger against his teeth. It's all quirky little rhythmic ti-ti-ti-ti-tap-taps; his own variation of a custom, really. They signal his presence in a room, they allow you a peek into his current train of thought- it was one of the things that Mirabel loved about her Tio.

"Ay, little Mouse, that's not all. You see, she's also his... Cousin!"

"Knock on wood. Just in case. Do salt, too. If nothing else, it'll hit Camaleon in the eyes. That last prank of his was uncalled for. Hmm? Oh, mi pequena nina, tiny, petty acts of revenge are absolutely allowed."

"Do you see this mierda, my little Mouse? Why would my Gift show me the death of a fish? What? No, it's not April 1st, and my Gift is not sentient."

"The key to being a good performer, little mouse, isn't your skill- no no no. It's Confidence and Flair. You can be the best at acting all you want- but if you're not entertaining yourself or your audience, are you really a performer?"

"Ratoncita, I love you, okay? Gift or no Gift. I love you. I love you. Your Tio loves you. You're my mouse. You're special, mi vida. Nobody's just seeing it yet. But while you wait for them to open their eyes, you also gotta do the same. See yourself. You gotta be one of the first to believe. I already do...."

It was one of the things she missed about her Tio.

...she missed her Tio.

It was nice to know he loved her though. Loved her enough to tell her that fact before leaving.

She sometimes wondered what would've happened if he didn't, though. Would he and Mami raise her together? Or, more funnily, would Mami raise them together? Tio had been very mischievous, after all. Sometimes even rivaling Camilo.

...she missed her Tio.

Sighing, Mirabel puts down the shirt she'd been embroidering for herself for the past few weeks, and stretched; the bones in her spine crackling just right. She then rapidly blinked her eyes to quickly get rid of the extra zoom. They went a little teary.

Ugh, she supposes that was the result of being hunched over and squinting over the tiniest details.

"The devil's in the details, little Mouse. It's the details, the subtext, the double entendre; that hit you where it counts."

Ay, Tio.

Gently caressing the little Hourglasses she had added, she wondered where her Tio was now. Maybe he's started a family, maybe he's alone in a forest, maybe he's still on the road.

Or maybe, Mirabel hoped, he's safe and sound- like the broken clock that reminded her of him in Senor Baltasar's living room. Safe and taken care of.

She hummed.

Maybe it's time she added green to her dress. She'd always been a little bit of her Tio's, even after the Ceremony (He told her so; she can still feel phantom fingers ruffling her curls fondly).

Heh. She could already imagine all the 'fights' he and Mami would have over who got to have the most of their color on her.

Knock knock knock knock knock, knock knock knock- plunk.

Mirabel froze.

Tick-tick-tick, tick-tick-tick, tick.

No way.

Tap, ti-ti-tap-tap, tap.

"A pretty little room for a pretty little mouse. But where's the pretty little mouse for the pretty little room?"

Mirabel had never jumped over her railings so fast in all her life.

The next few weeks are spent catching up with each other. Stories upon stories dripped out of their mouths; right into open, eager ears.

But the day they had met again was somehow even longer than that stretch of time- for Bruno, having this as his first direct human to human interaction in the 2 years he spent behind the walls, spilled to Mirabel all he could.

His reason for leaving.

"A vision of you, my precious mouse. Can't tell, can't tell specifics, but you're the catalyst. Save or destroy. Or both. Or none. But you know, you know. Bad luck Bruno. Bad Luck Bruno. Had to leave for you. Couldn't let them know. They'd see you wrong."

His watching of her growth through the walls.

"I saw, and I Saw a lot of you. Proud. Very. Play Pretend with me sometime. I'm, I'm broken a bit, but I still have a little confidence, a little, a little flair, mi preciosa ratoncita. Remember? Remember? Confidence and flair. Also, also, your work, I love it. Casita took care of you good. You're flying high, little butterfly. Could, could this rat ask of his mouse, some of her work? Your magic's warm."

His missing of her two birthdays.

"I hate, hate, that I couldn't give you company. Casita gave you her present, your Gift and Door, and I was happy! Happy for you. But you were also alone. And I was right there. Also your 7th. Not alone anymore. The Deer, they took you in, you took them too. They follow you. Happy, but also sad. I wanted to follow you too. Wanted to follow you so much. Even if only behind walls. But you were far. Couldn't reach you anymore. Asked Casita if I could still follow you. Still worthy, somehow, in her eyes, that she allowed me here. Am I still worthy of you to you though, my little mouse? Am I your rat still? Here, here, your gifts. I made you still. Even with the chance we would never meet. Thought that counts, they say. But, we met. So here, gifts. I love you."

And all throughout this, there were lots of tears. And hugs. And more tears. And more hugs. In fact, one hug lasted so long they both fell asleep in Mirabel's couch, the little girl right on top of her uncle.

(It was a sight Casita had outright demanded of Mirabel's butterflies to immortalise on photo. They were all too happy to comply.)

Ever since then, the two had been attached at the hip, eager to make up for their 2 year separation. Mirabel had informed her brother and grandmother that she had something important to take care of for a while in advance, and thus she was free to dive straight into work.

The first thing she had noticed the moment she was emotionally stable enough to had been her uncle's unruly hair, and so that was what she began the recovery and catching up weeks with.

She cut his hair (having learned how on a whim after seeing her abuelita doing it to Mariano) short and clean, helped him shave his beard to a more tasteful state, then later awed at his uncanny resemblance to Abuelo Pedro.

"Huh," Tio Bruno had whispered, almost reverently, as he looked at his reflection in the mirror, "I, I... I think I'll keep this, this look. I'll keep it, Ratoncita."

Next, Mirabel set to make her precious Tio a proper set of clothes. No more too long Ruana, no more same, drab color shirt and pants, and no more of said shirt and pants being way too loose and baggy. No more; not under her watch.

The outfit she eventually settled on was a vest with back tails, a shirt with medium-length arms, slightly form-fitting pants, formal shoes, and a fancy cloak.

All appropriately colored in matching shades of his green, of course.

(And laden to high heaven with protective and locator threads. She's not loosing him again.)

"Confidence," Her uncle had said, awed, as he slowly turned around in front of the mirror; eyes sometimes lingering on the elaborate stitching. Then he suddenly grabbed an edge of his cloak and twisted to strike a sweeping pose, "and Flair."

His grin was wide, a little mad.

"Oh, my creative little mouse. You spoil me sometimes."

And finally, the hard part: helping his body and mind heal from his time in the walls.

Here, Mirabel had asked her Mami for help (she knew enough to know that she can't do it all on her own- she's still a 7-year-old, after all. Raised by a non-human magical entity yes, but a 7-year-old nonetheless), and the entity had been all too happy to oblige.

They began small.

Mirabel sleeping with her Tio at appropriate times in his part of her Room (that she made immediately after learning he's been in the walls) to force him into a healthy sleep schedule as well as help curb his insomnia with company, Casita helping her daughter cook a full meal for every eating time of the day, Mirabel practicing her parkour with her Tio around to force him to learn with her (and thus have exercise) just so he could keep an eye on her better, etc, etc.

Those little manipulations stacked up quite nicely in the 4 months it occurred in, excitingly leading to her Tio having built himself a lean, strong, and agile healthy body. In fact, amazingly, about 5 weeks in, when Mirabel left for her weekly visit to her brother and grandmother, her mother had happily reported that her Tio had set to practice parkour without her presence. It was great news; he was gaining confidence, he was getting better!

Mirabel was proud of her Tio, if you couldn't tell.

And she became even more proud at what happened 3 weeks later: her Tio asking to meet the Guzmans!

"You trust them enough to reveal your identity, little mouse," idly, Mirabel cheered at his recovering speech, "and I trust you and your mother. Besides; I want to meet the family that, that, treated you well. I want to meet your suns. Casita, she's your soil, your shade. I want to meet the people who made you bloom."

Mirabel could barely hold off on just dragging her Tio straight to La Casa Guzman after that little declaration. Could you blame her for being excited at the prospect that her little family (not her bigger one was she still a part of it even?) was becoming one member bigger?

Luckily, her mother set her straight (amusedly), and so that night, she went by 'herself' only- for hopefully the last time -to prepare and explain what might occur in the next few days.

Her hermano and her Tio got along like a house on fire (no offense to her Mami).

With one a poet and one a performer/writer (he had to be, with those brilliant telenovelas Mirabel could remember being shown to her before he 'left'), was there ever any doubt?

Their bond had even grown in the same room Mirabel's had with the two Guzmans; in the sewing room of the house (Mirabel found that fact very amusing and awesome).

With Tio freed from the usual tasks that came with trying to survive in the walls of a sentient building by being her Roommate, suddenly there was a lot of Free time in his daily routine. Free time that he immediately spent by sitting with his niece's embroidery classes; at first to also learn, but then slowly devolving to what was essentially competitively making a novel on the spot: excitedly spewing storylines, dialogue trees, character backstories and plot-points with said niece's hermano.

Their growing connection was a sound Mirabel and her Abuelita had quickly found to be the perfect background noise to their sewing; the strands of stories their ears catch as they fade in and out of the zone very captivating, her mother's reactionary clicks and clacks of boards and tiles a varied but charming melody.

Though, personally, the little Madrigal girl found it the best when all 5 were interacting. The chaos created by a family in sync was something she could never get enough of (something she wished for with her bigger fam with the rest of her fam La Familia Madrigal).

It all came to a head though, when 3 months after the initial meeting, Abuelita suggested that Tio Bruno finally go out in public- under a disguise, of course, maybe something like Mirabel's Glamour Ruana except preferably without the accidental mind-screwing (sorry, hermano) -to show off his amazing and often enrapturing plotlines, and the man in question lit up with the younger one right behind him.

"Your stories are too big to have just our little family of five as an audience to enjoy them, Brunieto," Abuelita had cooed, "Besides, the Encanto could use a little excitement, what with all the peace. I believe your 'Quién soy yo para ti' series, especially Season 4 episode 27, would do that quite nicely. Bet you; people will be theorizing about it for days. I still am!" She chuckled.

The look that the two literary-leaning creative males had shared after the suggestion made Mirabel instantly, happily, know that this was it- this was the point of no return.

Mariano's little squeal of "Dios mio, Tio, if we're really doing this, you have to include-" only served to fuel her sudden burst of joy.

(The Lantern Flares, Bright and Fiery.)

Her Tio was now officially part of her little family, and he didn't even notice! Ha! Exactly like she had before!

(The freakout he was going to have the moment he does realize will be a moment Mirabel awaits with baited breath and a tub of popcorn.)

Oh, Mirabel was so happy, she was practically buzzing with energy. Actually, maybe she was! She was warm and all tingly all over! (There's a sheet of electricity right under her skin- it's comforting, it's empowering, it's- it's Magic.)

The fact that they were also going to have their first ever Family project soon (she could hear the word 'costumes' and knew it was gonna be hers and Abuelita's job) was just the delicious cherry on top!

(The Candle Flickers, Sputters, Fragmented. Someone looks on with sadness, worry- and maybe a little bit of disappointment. Someone finds the Lantern's brightness bittersweet.)

Casita, while happy at the fact that a Madrigal finally followed the rightful Matriarch, winces as one of the larger cracks in her walls made up for the healing littler ones by deepening. It's hot, it's searing- it's a knife, it's a claw, it's raking it hurts it hurts it hurts ithurtsithurtsdamnyouAlma and it's all she could do to keep her precious Candelita from knowing, noticing. It's too early. There's... There's nothing her Little Miracle could do; not yet at least. Casita screams yelps shouts whimpers groans in pain.

Bear it for her.

Do it for her.

Casita loves them, despite all. Her daughter though especially. So, she Stands. She Stands for them. She Stands a little more for Her. She'll Stand until she cannot anymore.

(It helps though, when her daughter smiles. When her daughter laughs. When her daughter is Bright. Because she knows she's the root cause. Because she knows she made that happen. Because she knows she allowed that to happen. She's raising her right, if nothing else.)

(If she was going to Fail, let it not be at being a Mother.)

------

(Part 4 here! Hope you enjoyed this! I made it extra long to make up for the gap of writing silence. Also, Bruno's here! A Madrigal finally joined Casita's chosen Matriarchal Heir!)

Also Bonus concept art(???) of the Guzman Boy and the Madrigal Girl:

[gangrenados]

this is a totally random and possibly bizarre prompt idea but would you pretty please write going to a tattoo parlor and getting tattoos together (matching or not idc) w/ jason todd and it’s your first time so he’s actually so sweet holding your hand and teasing you about losing your tattoo virginity or smth bc he’s trying to calm you down 🥺

SUCH FLUFF — if you write this i will simply pass away !! also it’s been awhile babe how are you? <33

I strongly belive that couple tattoos are a relationship killer, but this is sweet so let's pretend it's not lmao.

I also never gotten a tattoo so I'm not sure how the whole thing works, like the whole process lmao

☆I doubt Jason has a tattoo, I can see him considering one but it's kind of risky getting such an easy distinctive mark when you're vigilante.

☆Therefore it'd be a small tattoo, but most importantly this is his first time too.

☆Jason doesn't let this little fact get to him though, he has already gone through the pain that needles and other inconveniences represent. He's more than qualified to sit and get a little tattoo, it's not big deal.

☆You, in the other hand, can't hide your nervousness even though you try your best to do it.

☆Jason noticed this from the beginning, your nervous smiles and little remarks, and how you fidget at the thought of the final result, but worrying about how much it might hurt.

☆it was cute and it made him laugh at times, but he still wanted to be supportive.

" ready to lose your tatto virginity?" Jason popped the question with a grin, grabbing your hand and rubbing it with his thumb now that you were sat in the tattoo chair.

☆You chuckled, "that doesn't even exist." Chills ran down your spin at the feeling of cold alcohol rubbish into your skin.

"Yes it does, right?" Jason gestured at the tatto artist who didn't hesitated to day that your boyfriend was right, making you roll your eyes." Told you, babe"

☆Jason made sure to grab your hand when the process started, joking around and trying to calm you down if things started to hurt pretty bad.

"It's okay, you can rest" he'd say with a sweet tone.

And there's also the concerned: "you can take a break if you want, doll"

He's a sweetheart.

☆And when everything was over, Jason would pull you closer to him and kiss your temple,"it wasn't that bad, was it?"

☆But what about Jason? Well he sat in that chair and took the needle so if it were nothing, he was even cracking some jokes!

☆Sure he flinched a couple of times whenever the needle painted in the skin above the bone, but overall everything was okay.

☆This didn't stopped Jason from asking you to grab his hand with a little pout he knew you wouldn't resist.

☆He still wanted that contact and the little kisses that came after the tattoo was done.

[wickedw3asleys]

JUST LIKE HEAVEN (Pt.3)

George x female reader (mentions of Fred)

AN: I've had to write this one in a rush so sorry if some of the details are confusing 😔 but i hope you'll like it anyways, and once again, thank you SO SO MUCH for all the positive feedback i'm getting for this serie 🥰

WARNINGS: SMUT SMUT AND MORE SMUT... Cussing and unprotected sex

Fred never let it show once that something had been happening between you two. It wasn't a secret, but after all, it was private business, and surely he would keep teasing you and flirting with you as he had always done, but no one was asking questions. And to your surprise, you never felt uncomfortable with him about what happened in that bathroom a few days ago. And you loved that it was that way, you wouldn't be able to have to deal with losing him as a friend, and you hoped it also would be that way with George. They never seemed to be jealous of the other either, and during a conversation about the topic the day before, they made you very clear that rivalry would never get between them, also making it better. You wouldn't want to be in the middle of these two and be the motive of a fight between twins.

"Y/N, we absolutely love you, you're our best friend and you've always have been. And we've talked about it...", Fred starts.

"We obviously didn't want this to fail and separate us as friends, or Fred and I as brothers..."

"So that should be the last of your concerns..."

"We just think that you're terribly beautiful and nice, and like you trust us for this, we trust you too!"

And for now, it was totally working. The only thing was that you've haven't had the chance to "win" George as you previously won Fred. But you were working on it, slowly but surely. And apparently Fred had been talking to his brother about your private stuff, which only made him grow eager to fuck you too, and it started to show.

"So, Y/N... How are you today?", George asks casually during breakfast.

"I'm... fine...", you answered, clearly seeing that he had an idea on his mind, "What about you, Georgie?"

"Well, not that good, actually...", he says, rubbing the back of his neck.

"And why is that, George?", Fred asks. You could hear the fake in his voice, only making you more curious about what they've had planned.

"I don't know... I feel like... Ugh...", George fake acting was so bad but yet so entertaining it made you laugh, "I feel like need to go to bed..."

"Oh, no! You won't be able to come with me to the Hogsmeade trip!", his brother exclaimed.

"What are you talking about, you wanker? You're completely fine...", Ginny says, putting the back of her hand on George's forehead.

"I said I feel ill!", he exclaimed back.

"If you say so...", she sighs, already done with her brothers' bullshit, making everybody laugh at that.

"Come on, George. It can be that bad!", you say.

"I think you should check on me, though...", he says, directing you a discreet wink.

"Why me? I have a trio to go to...", you smile, "I'm going with Hermione and Luna, right?"

"Huh?", Hermione asks, very confused, looking back and forth between you and Ron, "B-but I was going with Ro- Ouch!", she squeaks as you elbow her, "Oh, yes! Right!"

"Well, what a pity, then... I suppose I'll have to ask someone else to check on me...", George says, leaning on the table towards you.

You exchange a few looks before he finally gets up, "Well, if someone needs me I'll be in my dorm, waiting..."

He winks at you one last time and starts leaving the Great Hall, leaving Fred behind.

"He's such an idiot, he's so bizarre...", Ginny says.

"Hey! Respect, young lady!", Fred scolds her.

"Why does he need to have someone checking on him? Isn't he grown enough?", Ron says, showing an entire sandwich in his mouth.

"Well, sometimes the ones you see as big boys are the biggest babies... Right, Fred?", you say, looking at him up and down.

"As you would know...", he says back.

"What is wrong with you?", Ginny exclaims, throwing her fork on the table, "Y/N! You're becoming like them! Please, tell me you're not going to end up like them! I'm not sacrificing our friendship like that!"

"Wow...", you say, "Don't worry, Ginny. I'm not letting them get into me like that... No worries about it"

"We're totally getting into you, though...", Fred says, earning a slap on the forehead by his little sister, "Alright! Sorry!"

All of you continued breakfast as nothing happened, talking and laughing about random things.

"Well, I think it's time to go now...", says Hermione, looking at her watch.

"Yeah, we should get going before McGonagall leaves without us...", Ron starts standing up.

"Since when are you worried about what McGonagall-", Fred starts asking.

"WELL, since I have a wonderful girlfriend that takes the time to do things properly!", he says, taking Hermione by the waist.

All of you started making your way to the court of the castle, waiting for Harry and Luna to join you there.

"Damn it! I forgot something!", you say, looking in your bag, "Go without me! I'll catch you there!"

"Have fun", Fred whispers to your ear as you pass by him.

"I'll do...", you wink back at him, making him bite his lip.

You start running upstairs to the Gryffindor common room, crossing paths with the last students that were heading outside the castle.

The common room was completely empty now, not even George was there. So you decided to head up to his dorm, see if he actually was there.

"Well, took you long enough...", he says from his bed, looking up from his book.

"Sorry, I was hungry...", you say, making your way towards him, "Anyways, I wanted to check on you before I left", you teased him.

"Oh... So you're actually going...", he says, sitting on the edge of his bed.

"Yeah... I can't leave Ginny alone between Ron and Hermione and... Fred...", slowly, you started placing you between his legs.

"I thought Harry and Luna were going too...", he starts grabbing the back of your legs, making you come closer to him, "I think she'll be alright..."

His touch on your legs made your whole body shiver, him noticing it, "Are you cold, darling?"

"A little..."

"Well, come here then...", he took you by the hand and helped you straddle him. He brushed a strand of hair away of your face while you placed your hands on the back of his neck, and without any other words, he gently pressed his lips on yours.

You'd expect him to be as eager as his brother, but he completely took his time with you, slowly kissing you. You felt his tongue pressing on your lower lip, making you open your mouth and following his lead.

He put his arms around your back and started caressing you, slowly and sensually, to what you responded by gently grinding on him.

"Eager, are we?", he asked, still against your mouth.

"Always..."

He put his hand on the back of your head and pushed you towards him, deepening the kiss. As you were too focused on his lips, you didn't even notice his free hand starting to lift your sweater.

You lifted up your arms, interrupting the kiss for a second, and when your sweater touched the floor, you went back to George's soft lips.

You moved back a little on his lap, freeing the spot that was covering his dick, and started to massage it through his pajama pants, surprised by the fact that he wasn't wearing boxers.

You could feel his already hard cock hardening even more at your touch, making you the eager one to taste him. So without warnings, you got on your knees between his legs and helped him take off his pants.

He wasn't as big as his brother, but he surely was a little bit longer, and that sight made it hard for you to imagine to make it fit entirely in your mouth.

You never stopped looking at him in the eye, not even when licking the first straps of his dick, which made he loudly breathe. You took it as a sign to go more on him, so you took a deep breath and directly deepthroating him, fitting your hand around his base.

"Oh, fuck...", he moaned, throwing his head back.

That made you smile with his dick in your mouth and encouraged you to keep going, pushing it a little bit further in your throat. You could feel the discomfort of his tip brushing against the back of your throat, but the sounds that were escaping his lips and the grip he had on your hair made ir all worth it.

You released him for a second, only to go back and bob your head up and down at sensual pace, sometimes leaving licks here and there.

"Fuck, Y/N... You're so good...", he moans.

The fact that he was rather a moaner than a groaner only made your wetness grow. You've always thought a moaning men was hotter.

After a few more movements, you got back up and went back to his lips, allowing him to taste himself too. Without breaking the kiss, he guided you on the bed, where he got on top of you. His hands started roaming all over your stomach, sides and torso, enjoying every single bit of your skin. Enjoying this intimate moment. George liked to take his time, enjoy the moment and make sure you're enjoying it as much as him...

He slowly started to take off your annoying skirt, followed by your panties, only leaving you in your thigh highs socks.

"What's with the socks?", you asked him, crooking an eyebrow.

"Be a good girl and don't ask...", he says, attacking your lips again.

You smile to your insides; you've always knew George had a thing for the high school uniforms... including high thighs socks...

He took away his t-shirt and as you were both naked, he leaned on you a put a single sheet over your bodies.

His hand made its way to your core, where he took the time to take your wetness and spread it all over it with his fingers.

"Look at how wet you already are... All that because of me?", he smirked.

"No, it's because of your lovely daddy", you said, mocking him.

"Ah, ah... Lower you tone with me, sweetheart...", he tsked, and suddenly he introduced two fingers in your pussy, "otherwise it won't end up good for you..."

He started to pump in a out of you as his mouth made it's way back to you neck and jaw, where he never stopped kissing.

"Fuck, George... Yes...", you whispered.

"You like that, darling?", he whispered back in your ear.

"Yesssss...", you slowly started to arch your back and his fingers started to curl inside you.

George took that as a signal to add a third finger. Your face contorted at the discomfort but it soon disappeared, only leaving an extreme pleasure.

He never pulled back from your ear, whispering sweet and nasty things in it while he ferociously pumped in and out of your pussy with his fingers.

"Yes, yes, yes, yes, YES!", you moaned loudly.

His hand accelerated its pace, making you hear your own wetness, and you could feel your walls start to tighten around his fingers.

"Are you going to cum, sweetheart? Huh?"

"Yes! FUCK!", once again your back arched and your hand met your clit, quickly rubbing it, but George slapped your fingers, replacing them with his.

"That's my job...", he says, fingers knuckles deep inside you.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! George! FUCK! I'm cumming!", you screamed, bringing your hands to your hair, pulling it roughly.

While he rocked you orgasm with his fingers inside you, he made sure to leave a few new marks on your neck, as to say "George was here".

You regained your breath and when you opened your eyes again, you met the gaze of a lustful George towering over you. You took him by the neck and made him sit down against his headboard, you sitting on his lap. You started kissing him again, passionately and full of hunger. You took his dick in your hand and pumped it a few times before rubbing it against your wet pussy, spreading your wetness all over him, making him groan in your mouth.

Without notice, you got up on your knees and slowly sunk down his shaft, letting you a few seconds to adjust to his length. You looked at his face; lower lip between his teeth, pupils dilated and messy hair all over his forehead, it was the most beautiful image of George you've ever had. Seeing all the lust in his eyes, you decided to not waste more time and started to slowly bounce together on his bed, and moving your pelvis to meet his. Both you and him were a moaning mess, only hearing your voices and your wetness in the room. Lucky you were that no one would be back for a while to his dorm, so you could take all the time you wanted.

George's back was against his headboard, and small moans were escaping his mouth as he embraced you and helped you bouncing and getting back and forth on his dick. Both of you grabbing on each other hard, you bouncing on his cock and him thrusting upwards.

"Fuck, George... You feel so so good... Oh my god...", you moaned, throwing your head back and finding support on his shoulders. Once again, feeling your walls clench around him.

"Turn around, darling...", he commanded you.

You did as he pleaded without asking, pulling him out of your pussy and turning your body around, still sitting on his lap. He slowly raised your body so you were on your knees, your back against his chest. This new position making his cock curve in the perfect spots.

"SHIT!", you moaned.

"Come on, I've got you...", he says, sliding he arm around your stomach, giving you support and enough stability for him to roughly thrust upwards.

"I'm cumming, I'm cumming!!", you quickly managed to moan.

You closed your eyes, focusing on the amazing feeling that was rushing through your body. You expected George to stop his relentless pace, but he didn't, fully overstimulating you, making your orgasm last forever.

"Shit... I can't stop cumming... FUCK!", you difficulty breathed out, making George smirk. "Is that so, darling?", he asked, bringing his hand down to your clit and starting to massage it quickly.

You froze in place while he was attacking you with his fingers and let out a silent scream.

"Oh god... Oh god... FUCK, GEORGE!", you moaned as you felt your walls starting to clench around his dick.

"Are you going to cum again for me?", he smirked.

"Yes! Fuck, yes!", you nearly screamed, feeling something explode inside you and making you see the stars. George started thrusting upwards into your pussy again, helping you chase your orgasm. The overstimulation was so good you couldn't even stop yourself from riding him and taking more of him every time.

"More?", he asked, speaking against your temple, "You want more, sweetheart? You're insaciable, I love it..."

You could even think straight. The intimacy you and him were sharing and the many times you had come by now where making it impossible to even think about what you were doing, you were too focused on how good George was making you feel.

He took advantage of your fucked up state and decided to spice things up a little bit; he took you by the waist and slowly laid you down on the mattress, putting you under him, facing him so he could admire you in your perfect messed up state. He never pulled out of you. He adjusted your hips to be at the perfect angle, and put his arms around your thighs.

"Say you can't stop cumming? Let's see how this feels...", he says before slamming inside you again.

You loudly moaned at the new angle and the feeling of him being balls deep inside you. He was railing the shit out of you in this new position and you could hear his bed slamming against the wall, following his rhythm.

George smirked between his uneven breaths as he felt you clench again around him, knowing how good he was making you feel. He adjusted again his angle, tightening his grip on your thighs and slowing his thrusts, but he never stopping his hard pace, always hitting the correct spots.

You unconsciously took your hand to your clit and started rubbing it hard. You couldn't stop cumming and you didn't want to stop. George was making you feel way too good for that, so you wanted to enjoy every single crumb he would give you of him.

"Yes, like that, sweetheart...", he groaned, "Another one for me..."

His moans and groans were like music in your ears, and hearing him groan louder when he felt your release only made your orgasm a hundred times more powerful for you.

"Come here...", George said, laying back against his headboard again with you on his lap, "You're doing it so good, darling... So good..."

You put your head in the crook of his neck, not having enough strength to even hold your head up. The boy put his hand on the back of your neck, thrusting hard in you.

"Fuuuuuucccckkkkkk...", you let out a long moan.

George embraced you again, this time tighter than before, and you knew he was close.

Your pussy was so sensitive by now that you couldn't even prepare for the new orgasm that washed over your body. George heard you quietly cry of pleasure and that brung him to his end. He swore to himself you were going to be the death of him as he chased his own release. He let out the sweetest moans and you knew he had finished.

He put a gently kiss on your forehead and slowly lifted you off his dick, sitting you again on his lap, feeling his now soft cock under your swollen pussy.

"Are you okay?", he asks, brushing your hair with his fingers.

You hummed, not able to form words yet. He slowly chuckled at that, "Do you need a minute?"

"Yeah...", you answered quietly.

He let you stay still on his lap until you were able to correctly breathe and think again, now not believing how good the sex was.

"Wow...", you chuckled.

"No exaggeration, that was the best sex I've ever had", George says.

You look at him dead in the eye, "Are you and your brother even real?", you ask, completely outraged, "It's not fair!"

George laughed, "What is not fair?"

"THIS! Are you a sort of sex demons or something like that?!", he laughed again.

"Unfortunately no... We just wanted to rail the shit out of you for ages, I suppose."

"Oh, Merlin...", you felt dizzy again, and the thought of them fucking you this hard again only made you more excited for the future. Now was the time when you swore this was the best idea they could ever have had. "I'm so glad you guys asked mento do this, you have no idea..."

You left a quick kiss on George's lips and got up to get dressed, but your legs terribly failed you and almost made you fall ass flat on the floor.

"Oh, wow...", George chuckled, admiring you from his bed.

"You shut up. It's your fault!"

"Yeah, I know...", he winks at you.

You rolled your eyes in fake annoyance and supporting you on his dresser, you could manage to get your skirt on. You made your way to the nearest mirror, watching your body as you adjusted your sweater and your hair. You could see the hickeys Fred had left a few days prior to this encounter with his brother, and next to them almost identical fresh hickeys where now starting to form, making you smile for yourself.

"I have to go, it seems like we've stayed here long enough for Hermione to start asking where I am...", you say, putting on your shoes.

"Okay, I'll see you at lunch, darling."

You flew him a kiss from the door and rushed out of his room, directly going outside the castle; and once again, smiling to yourself at the thought of what you've had done. Hoping this would keep going for a little while...

[sukiekagamine]

K/Suyeol headcanon/random prompt because I can't stop thinking about these two

Imagine one day the radio on Suyeol's car broke out of the blue. He was feeling quite bored on the way to work, so he decided to ask K to sing something, just to have some noise. But K couldn't mutter out a single song, which was strange for someone that talkative.

After a few rounds of interrogation, Suyeol finally found out that K didn't know any other song aside from the one he heard when Suyeol's father was killed, and after knowing its origin, he never wanted to sing it to Suyeol again.

Suyeol found it bizarre that K only knew that one song, and seeing how bad K felt for keep singing it before, he decided on the spot that "Fine, I'll teach you to sing any other songs that you liked".

He gave K his playlist so K could pick some songs, but then K said his playlist was for old people only, and K wanted to learn something fresh and upbeat like K-pop (not because it sounded similar to his name, K insisted, but Suyeol didn't believe it). Suyeol didn't know any K-pop songs, so he went over to Gyeong Tae to have some recommendations, and started spending time everyday listening to the newest K-pop hits and learning the lyrics by heart so he could sing it with K in the car.

From that day onward, the whole squad was shocked to see Suyeol becoming more and more lively as he kept humming random K-pop songs whenever he was not talking, and he seemed a lot happier and years younger than his normal brooding self. After a while, Suyeol also noticed the difference - how cheerful and fresh and excited he felt when he woke up to a new day, how much fun he had having carpool karaoke with K everyday, and how his mood and his life changed for the better. He had never felt so happy.

At some point, when K was particularly helpful in a case, Suyeol even rented out a karaoke room just so the two of them could sing horribly on top of their lungs to their favorite K-pop songs. They both knew their voices were terrible, but singing and dancing around was the way for them to have fun with each other, so they did it all the time.

The squad was suspicious that Suyeol finally found a girl who could turn him into a ray of sunshine, but Suyeol just laughed. The ray of sunshine had to be K.

[razrbladekiss]

Tyrants | Chapter One - Disclosure

A/N: This was supposed to be a Jax x Fem!OC fanfic, but it took a little turn as I started to write more of it. So, it’ll be Tig x Fem!OC, but Jax does play a very important role in this.

SUMMARY: A sick turn of events sees Isla Telford thrown in at the deep end, battling to govern the sudden pressures of all that her father's club decidedly bestow upon her.

WORD COUNT: 2.7k

WARNINGS: Brief mentions of murder, the guy that got his ass shit is in this one. Jax and Tig get their own warnings, too, for obvious reasons.

The older I get, the more I realize that age doesn't bring wisdom. It only brings weary.

John Teller was always so astute.

His judicious character befell his son, too. Jax had that same perceptive nature as his old man--everyone would comment on that.

To Isla, it was admirable. For Jackson Teller to be a man of such stature--to hold such a reputation--and to remain somewhat level-headed through it all, was only something she could commend.

She'd seen many of her father's friends crumble under the pressure of Samcro, unable to balance the weight of living with the responsibility and commitment to the club, and meet their unfortunate demise--in some not-so extreme cases.

But Jax was different. He'd always been different.

Maybe that wasn't so great, however.

"You're fucking insane, Isla."

"Not insane." She mumbled, sifting through the box of shitty medical supplies that Gemma had left atop the pool table last night.

"Just trying to patch this shit up so Hayes doesn't kick the fucking bucket before Jax gets back here."

Tig snarled. "But it might be infected, and the bullet is still in this dude's ass--"

Isla whipped her head to glare at the man, her eyes wide, forehead slick with sweat--and a little blood, too.

"Shut the fuck up."

"Isla--"

"Tig, with all due respect, unless you're gonna help, please get the fuck outta here."

"That's not gonna suffice," he pointed out, referring to the medical tape, ignoring her scolding.

She wanted to throttle him. Truly, Isla was willing to wrap her crimson-coated fingertips around Tig's neck and squeeze the absolute life out of that man.

"I know." Her lips kneaded together in frustration, watching her father dab an alcohol-infused pad on the wound. "But unless you've got any better ideas, then we're just gonna have to keep reapplying this shit."

"But the infection, Isla."

"But the lack of medical equipment, Tig."

He slapped his palm against the table and glared at her, pointedly. "Why've you gotta be such a bitch all the time, huh?"

"Watch it, Trager." Piqued, Chibs growled.

"I'm not a bitch all the time," she dismissed her father, wiping at her palm with a wet rag. "I'm actually able to control the way I act around other people."

"Oh, fuck you--"

"Christ!"

The Scot's yell was muffled by the cap of his whiskey bottle, his hand pressing against Cameron's skin as the man screamed into the cloth Isla had placed underneath his head.

"God, for fucks sake, both of you just pack it in."

"Chibs--"

"Shut the fuck up. You're a fucking geriatric and you're spending your morning bickering with an almost thirty-year-old. Grow up, Tig."

Despite laughing at his comment, and enjoying the irritation wash over the other man's face, she felt bad.

For riling her father up--who was simply trying to help the innocent Irishman caught in the literal crossfire--she felt fucking awful. Especially because he never seemed to get mad at her all too often.

Tig, though...That was a different story entirely.

"I'm gonna go see if Clay has any more shit lying 'round here." She declared, throwing a damp towel onto the table, backing out of the room.

Her heart was in her throat, stomach in damn knots. Isla wasn't confident that Cameron was going to make it--not with such a deep wound.

And in his ass, too? Jesus. She wasn't confident at all.

Of course, she'd seen men get shot. Her own father, for one. But she hadn't seen somebody have to go so long without actual medical attention.

Chibs was ex-army med, but there was only so much a man could've done with a bottle of liquor, gauze, and a towel.

She was relieved that the bullet hit Cameron and not Clay, though. As sick as it sounded, she was so fucking glad that he'd managed to dodge the line of fire--initially intended for his own skull--and come out completely unscathed.

But for every ounce of relief she'd felt, an even more fervid sense of anger prevailed at the thought of Jax taking so damn long with those medical supplies he'd sought to get last night.

Gemma mentioned something about heading to the hospital--or a friend's house, or something--but Isla wasn't paying any mind to the woman as she, and Chibs, were trying all ways to stop the bleeding coming from Cameron's ass cheek.

It was the most bizarre turn of events she'd ever experienced.

One minute, Isla was sipping on a glass of wine while she eagerly awaited the spirited ping of her tiny microwave oven, ready to spend a rare--though well fucking deserved--night alone.

However, things took a drastic turn when she received a call from Tig--on behalf of a very busy Chibs--casually requesting her assistance because the Mayans had tried to assassinate Clay.

But Tig failed to mention that the man was completely fine.

She'd spent fifteen minutes on the way over mentally preparing herself, wondering what hell she'd walk into when she set foot into the clubhouse. But it was normal--strangely so.

Isla wasn't a professional, she didn't exactly know how to handle such a trauma, but she trusted her father and she just wanted to make sure he had a helping hand.

God knows that Tig wouldn't have been very much use, and Juice was a little nervous--though, he was doing incredibly well throughout the ordeal regardless of his internal apprehension.

"How's it looking?" Gemma threw at Isla, getting to her feet.

"Bloody."

She quickly scanned the room, taking in the uncomfortably sparse bar. It wasn't usually so empty, so quiet.

Clay, Gemma, and Juice. That was it. Not even Piney--not even Epps.

"Is he doing okay?"

It was still early in the day, though. She guessed that they'd pop in once they properly came around.

"He's better than he was last night." The brunette nodded. "Dad is certain the laceration is gonna get infected if we leave it any longer without trying to get the bullet out--"

"You've gotta wait 'til Jax gets back here, Isla, we can't risk Hayes dying on us."

"I know, Clay. He's just fucking tired--he's been up all night. We need a real medic on the scene before something bad happens. It's only a matter of time."

He mumbled something to himself that only Gemma seemed to catch, but Isla didn't particularly give a damn at that point. Like Chibs, she was exhausted.

The tattered and torn plaid shirt she had thrown over a random tank top--now smeared with another man's blood--was wrenched between her fingers as she pulled it off, folding it not-so-neatly.

She hadn't dealt with such a bloody wound in a while. Not since her mother's palm, decorated with shards of glass, was in dire need of stitches and her father was across the country, unable to offer his medical assistance.

"I'll grab one of Jax's shirts for you--"

"No, Gemma, it's okay," she smiled, taking a seat on one of the couches opposite her.

The older woman pinched her eyebrows together skeptically, watching Isla shift. "I insist."

"It's fine." Isla was adamant. "I'm gonna head home as soon as Jax gets back here--if he gets back here--so, really, it's fine."

A minimal amount of already dried blood was spread over her wrists and fingers, and the excess had been rubbed off on her crimson flannel, so she didn't particularly feel bad about making any mess.

Though, she shouldn't have felt bad. Not after she'd been coerced into helping and eventually receiving that shitty reception from Tig.

"Aren't you cold?" She questioned, waiting for Isla to capitulate, but she never did.

The thought of wearing one of Jax's shirts--after it being given to her by his fucking mother--didn't sit right with her for some reason. Plus, she didn't particularly feel like walking out of that building wearing the damn reaper on her back.

She didn't want to flaunt their patch. Not any more than she already had been for the last ten years.

"Where the fuck is he?"

Clay glared at the clock on the wall, realizing they'd been without the Vice President for hours. In an attempt to put him at ease, Gemma ran a hand along his shoulder.

Isla could only watch them--admire, perhaps.

"He told us he was gonna swing by Tara's place for the equipment. But that was last night, man." Juice shrugged, circling the lip of his beer bottle with his thumb.

She felt her throat thicken with a sick sense of trepidation. She hadn't heard that name in years.

"Tara?" She stuttered, feeling Gemma's piercing glare.

The woman hated Jax's first love, though she never said it aloud. Isla knew her perception of her, however, and she'd started to feel the exact same as the years went on.

Bitch.

"Yeah, y'know, Tara Knowles--"

Her heart sank--fuck that, it dove straight to the deep caverns of her chest, throbbing away into nothing. Until she felt completely void of all emotion. Completely fucking numb.

"I know her, Juice." Her response came hastily, snappy. "I'm sorry. I just didn't expect you to say that."

He shrugged it off. "It's alright. I wasn't expecting her to be back in town, either. I thought you already knew."

Suddenly uncomfortable, Isla's head shook.

The crow situated at the bottom of her spine began to smolder, blistering away at her skin until she physically flinched.

It was a brilliant idea at the time, getting a matching tattoo with Jax's old lady--the one woman she truly adored and trusted, never once feeling an ounce of malice toward.

Because that was a rare thing for Isla, and she wanted their friendship--and relation to Samcro--to prevail for eternity, she supposed.

But as time went on and Tara decided to distance, and eventually alienate, herself from the club, an ample sense of regret persisted for fucking months.

Isla loathed her ink. She hated the negative connotation of the crow she once lauded, and the mere idea of that thing being slapped above her ass forever churned her stomach.

It wasn't one of her finest moments, she had to admit. But she was young and extremely fucking dumb. She'd bet top dollar that Tara felt the same--if she hadn't gotten the crow covered up already.

"Jesus, Jax, where were you?!"

Her eyes flicked upward, attention on the blonde as he sauntered across the wooden floor of the bar.

She hadn't even noticed his presence until Clay spoke, but she soon started to heed how Jax was trembling a bit with every step that he took.

It wasn't obvious. To most people, the slight shake of his wrist would've gone completely unnoticed. But to Isla--to the most observant woman in Charming--his discomfort was striking.

Jax ignored him, stomping his way toward the back room. His line of sight never satisfied Isla's. It didn't even come close to it, either.

Something had happened. It was obvious that, in the time he had been with Tara, he'd encountered something grizzly enough to chill him to the bone.

Which was saying something, what with the horrific shit that he'd already seen in his time.

"Jax!" Clay yelled, following closely behind him. "Hey, asshole, where the fuck did you put the bag--"

"I've got it."

If she had the option, Isla would've allowed the floor to swallow her fucking whole.

"Tara." Pissed, Gemma acknowledged. "You're here because?"

"I asked her to help, mom."

"But Chibs had it covered. He just needed some actual instruments--"

"Gemma, quit it."

She simply nodded at her son, not wanting to cause another problem that she'd have to fix later--which, honestly, Isla was shocked to see.

"He's in there--"

"I know." Jax cut her short, ushering Tara to the back of the clubhouse--striving to get her into the room before she heeded Isla.

But she did.

The first person she clocked--aside from Clay--was Isla Telford, the woman she had purposely alienated herself from ten fucking years ago.

It wasn't anything that she'd particularly done to Tara, more like the crowd she ran with--and the way her loyalties never seemed to lay very closely to her friends, or anything outside of the club.

Isla wasn't a part of Samcro--she didn't want to be a part of Samcro--but her coalition was strong enough to convince anybody that she was more than merely a daughter of a Sgt. at Arms.

She had been brought up around the Sons--her father's choice, of course--and when her mother passed, she had no choice but to dive a little bit deeper into that world. But, as expected, it was constantly under the watchful eye of her old man.

She was dedicated to them. They were, essentially, family, and she was an honorary member.

"Isla." Jax mumbled, nodding his head toward the entrance of the clubhouse as he closed the back-door. "Outside."

He pulled a carton of cigarettes out of his leather vest, shaking the box as he strived to seem a little less suspicious to Clay and his mother.

The blonde wobbled to her feet--knees weak after hours of standing--while simultaneously pulling her bloodied flannel back onto svelte, freckled arms, recognizing that the chill was to hit her the second she stepped onto the gravel.

Jax was casual while he strutted ahead, taking long strides that Isla found fucking impossible to keep up with.

He pushed the door to close behind her, offering a cigarette that she hastily declined.

"What's she doing here?" Was how she decided to break the silence, her eyes searching for a hint of something written on his face.

But there was nothing. Not an ounce of emotion--scarily so.

"She's fixing Cameron up--"

"Not at the clubhouse, Jax. I meant back in Charming."

He ran a thumb across his lower lip, trying to soften his gaze on Isla, but it was futile. He looked discomposed--unsettled.

"She's uh--she's workin' at the hospital now." She started to nod, waiting for his elaboration. It never came, however.

"Oh, that's nice. I wonder what happened in Chicago...Do you know why she's back here? Or how long she's gonna be staying in town--"

"You sound like my fucking mother--give it a break with the thirty-seven questions about Tara, damnit."

He snarled, heeding the distaste of his words the second she glowered at him.

"Excuse you?"

"I didn't call you out here for a sweet little conversation, Isla, I called you 'cause I need your help--"

"With what?"

Jax's hand hooked onto the back of his neck while he tilted his head to look upward, thinking of a way--any fucking way--to explain just what damn mess he'd found himself entwined with over the course of the last twenty-four hours.

He didn't know what to say or how to say it--if he should've fucking said it. He trusted Isla with his life--always had--but sometimes he appreciated that she mightn't have appreciated finding herself tangled within Jax's boisterous, at times frightening, life.

But it was too late for that. She'd been dragged through the deepest shit and wasn't crumbling that easily.

"Jax--"

"Kohn." He stated simply, waiting for the cogs of her brain to begin turning.

"What about him? You got in trouble with the ATF or something? Because we can handle that--"

"I already did." Jax laughed humorlessly, finally meeting Isla's line of sight.

The skin underneath his eyes was red raw, blotchy and irritated after he had used the sleeve of his hoodie to scrub away the tears he'd shed.

The tears he hadn't wanted to shed, but had fallen freely--uncontrollably--from those cerulean hues Isla never tired of looking at.

"What do you mean by that?" Nervously, she quizzed.

He didn't even have to say anything. She fucking knew. She knew exactly what he meant by that, but there was a tiny morsel of something within her that hoped and prayed that he'd declare that her gut feeling was wrong.

But he couldn't. Because it was right. Like always, Isla's intuition didn't fail her.

"Jax, honey, what did you do--"

"I killed Kohn."

[waynewifey]

A dream of you and me—

soulmate!au

Pairing: Sirius Black x Reader

Summary: In a world where a dream means something more, trying to save the boy from your dreams can change your life.

Warnings: angst, crying

Words: 1900.

A/N: Thank you so much for the amazing feedback on my last fic! I’m sorry it took me so long to comeback, please remember that my requests are always open! I hope you like this.

I've always liked dreaming. It's the moment of the day where I'm taken to a random place with random people to live a priceless adventure. Tonight I dreamed with a boy. Well, I was the boy. We were running through the Hogwarts corridors, but somehow no one saw us. It was like we were invisible. We ran up to the bridge, staring at the moonlight. He was sad for an unknown reason, I could feel it. I saw his black locks blocking the vision when it winded. I've never seen his face before, but, somehow, he felt like... home. He let out a deep breath and I heard some footsteps approaching. Suddenly, the image became blurred. I let out a gasp, waking up. I stared at the ceiling for a moment, before opening my curtains, looking around and noticing it was still night. I got up and walked to the biggest window in the room. The moon looked exactly like the one in my dream. Maybe it is happening right now, I thought. But that was impossible. Well, not really impossible, more like improbable. The soulmate link was a very rare occasion. One would dream about the day or the moment the other were living for days or years, until they meet and recognise each other as soulmates. But they wouldn't see faces or hear voices, so that turned the meeting more difficult and rare. I've never met soulmates beside the ones in fantasy books.

The morning after, I woke up earlier than usual, as I could barely sleep. I got ready quickly and ran to the Great Hall. I was looking for someone who looked like they haven't slept properly, someone who may be up all night. But, to be honest, all seventh graders looked almost dead, thanks to the exams. A red head sat beside me, putting some books on the table.

"I have something to tell you." I immediately said.

"Not even a 'Good Morning'? Fine then. What is it?" Lily Evans replied. I rolled my eyes at her, beginning to speak.

"I dreamt with someone. I know it's rare but I really think it may be... that." She looked disinterested, picking her food. "Lily, I'm serious! It felt so real! And I could feel his feelings too! What should I do?"

"There's nothing to do yet, I guess. You'll have to keep dreaming and collecting clues. But maybe you could forget about it and help me with my charms assignments." She bit a piece of bread and I gave her an yellow smile. By the corner of the eye, I saw a group of boys approaching.

"Or you could ask your pain in the ass boyfriend." She scoffed, turning around and smiling at James Potter, whom were now sitting beside her, embracing her back with his arm and laughing loudly about something I didn't knew. Remus Lupin sat on my side, as usual. He was the only tolerable one in the group. He often helped me with my studies, but our relationship was very far from a friendship. Other two boys sat in front of us.

The day went by normally. Too many classes for my last two neurones. I was exited to go to my dorm and sleep, to test my theory.

I could see the dark sky and the Whomping Willow. A rat ran to the roots of the tree and pressed a small knot. The tree stoped moving. We dove into a hole next to it. After a long time walking inside of a tight tunnel, we arrived at the gardens of a house. The Shrinking Shack?! What is he doing here? We entered the house and walked to what looked like a living room. I watched as a gigantic creature approached. Some kind of wolf, but it was standing in two legs. It's arms were thin. It was looking a bit... tired? I analysed the beast carefully. A werewolf! Why was he around that monster? He was in danger!

I jumped out of  bed, running to get my robe and my wand. I left the dorms, running to the Castle Grounds. The wind was extremely cold, but I kept running. I searched for the knot on the Whomping Willow. After a few times being thrown in the air by the tree, I finally got to the secret hole. It seemed like it took me forever to get to the house. I heard a howl and a growl, which made me desperate to find my soulmate. Would he even be alive by now? I came across a bizarre scene. A werewolf, a huge black dog, a stag and a mouse – the mouse in my dreams – all laying on the floor. The werewolf turned its head to me, growling at me. The dog jumped, getting in front of me. Where was my soulmate? The werewolf tried to attack me, but the stag got on its way. They were protecting me? Why? The dog barked at me, getting my attention. He ran to the exit door, turning his head back at me, as if he were calling me. I followed him. I ran to the gardens, but the dog was gone. Suddenly, a boy came out of behind a tree, wearing a black fur robe. I annalized his face in the moonlight. I recognised his black locks from my dreams. Sirius Black.

"What are you doing here? You need to go back to the castle right now." He said, eyes not focusing on me and ears on alert, still taking care of whatever was happening in the house.

"What are YOU doing here?! Did you know that is not a regular wolf, but a werewolf?! And if it bites you-"

"Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Now, you. Leave." He cut my speech, making me roll my eyes.

"I can't let you die! Every night I have these dreams, you're always getting yourself in trouble and-"

"You dream with me? You saw Moony?"

"Yes, Black, keep track. Stop interrupting me. Wait, who's Moony?" Sirius looked around, getting closer and lowering his voice, like he was about to tell me a secret.

"Remus Lupin. He's a werewolf. The stag is James Potter. I'm not sure if you've seen it, but the rat is Peter Pettigrew and... I'm the dog. Yeah, yeah, woof. We're animagus. Remus is under control... well, kind of. But it's still not safe for you and I need to take you back to the castle." I was stunned when he grabbed me by the elbow and made me walk all the way back. My thoughts wouldn't process, my mind was a mess.

"You're supposed to drink the tea, not stare at it, you know?" Sirius said, his voice echoing in the empty common room. I blinked for the first time in a while. I took a last look at my teacup, glancing upwards. I stared at his obsidian orbits, frowning my eyebrows trying to figure out what to say. Sirius Black was my soulmate. This guy I've never really talked to before, whom I know practically nothing about, and now I discover he's an illegal animagus, friends with a werewolf and will probably reject me so badly the angels will pity and and let me escape from hell. Because I made it quite obvious by telling him about my dreams, and he ignored it.

"I dreamt about you, you know what this means, right?" I couldn't keep the eye contact for long and quickly went back to staring at my tea. I moved in the couch to a more closed posture.

"Yeah, I understand it just fine." He said. I couldn't figure out his emotions by the tone of his voice, so I looked at him. His expression was as neutral as his tone, not helping me at all.

"Oh, okay. I wasn't expecting this." I rested my cup on the coffee table in front of us, getting up. I felt a slight spark of anger inside of me, starting to burn everything. He scoffed, leaning back on the chair. "Well I don't like that either! It's just- It seems unfair to condemn me to literal hell just because you're not happy about me being your soulmate!" The words bursted out of my mouth without a previous warning, tears forming in my eyes. I had waited for so long to see if I had a soulmate and he just scorn me like that? "I'm sorry if I'm not what you expected, but this isn't my fault!" I blubbered, gathering all the small amount strength that kept me on foot to turn around and walk away. But before I could do so, his arms embraced me in a harm and desperate hug. The smell of his hair made me dizzy, and I could honestly live there.

"I never believed in this. I never thought fate would bring someone to keep company to a person like me but- seeing you cry made my heart ache... So please stay. I don't care if we're soulmates or not, I just... need you here."

Epilogue — 3 years later.

I finished mixing the coffee and placed it at the silver tray. I took a final look: scrambled eggs, fried tomatoes and mushrooms, and bangers — it all looked delicious. Not the kind of thing I was used to do, but I definitely am good at it. I walked to our room and opened the door. He was in the same place he was when I left earlier: the bed. I put the tray on the nightstand, preparing myself to wake him up. I sat beside him, staring at his unique features. The sunlight coming through the curtains lightened his nude torso and I got myself admiring his skin.

“Breakfast in bed? Who are you and what have you done to my girlfriend?” His husky morning voice, massaged my ears. “Fiancée, actually.”

“Well, I thought this was a great way to celebrate your first day of work and our three year anniversary.” I kissed the top of his head as my hands danced around on his curls. “But don’t get used to it, you’re the cooker in this relationship.”

“I love you, Y/N L/N Black.” I stared down at his face. The same face of the boy I fell in love with, a long time ago, and I remembered the first time we kissed through sobs and hugs. This was when I realised I loved Sirius Black more than anything in the world and I knew we were forever. I smiled at him and kissed him passionately.

“I love you too.” He smiled widely at me and pulled me to under the sheets, throwing my apron across the room. “You’ll be late, Siri.” Sirius rolled his eyes at me and got on top of me.

“I have more important matters to deal with right now.”

[starlight-phantom]

Yusuke for the character ask <3

Do I like them:

I love, love, love Yusuke. I was intrigued the moment I met him and then I kept loving him more and more.

5 good qualities:

His passion for art is admirable

He clearly holds a lot of respect for his mother and other artists who displays their true feelings through art

He cares a lot for his friends, even if he had trouble displaying that

He is quite protective of said friends and likes to help in any way possible (for example, when he travelled to Leblanc after school to escort Futaba to Shibuya)

He's very open minded and enjoys hearing everyone else's opinions on forms of art because he knows it could help him improve

3 bad qualities:

Please... Just feed yourself.... Stop spending all your money on random things...

I know he's only thinking of art but, my dude, you gotta stop telling people to strip.

He's a little too blunt with his words, to the point where some of his comments can come across as quite insulting.

Favourite episode/etc:

I've noticed that this is a theme whenever I answer this kinda question for Persona 5 characters, but his awakening. All of the awakenings are just so cool, I can't help it. Plus, Yusuke's is one of my favourites, like I can quote his entire speech off by heart. My mum laughed at me when she walked past my room and heard me reciting it along with the scene...

OTP:

Shukita, those two are just really cute. And I love that take of them being that couple that's just as bizarre as each other.

BROTP:

Ann. I just the idea of these two chatting about art, in any form it comes in. And Ann asking for Yusuke's opinions on colour schemes for her outfits and taking him out to café's just so she knows he's eating something, and these two are just great.

NOTP:

Futaba. I dunno, there's no special reason, I'm just not bothered by YuTaba at all.

Best quote:

"A breathtaking sight... Imitations they may be but together they make a fine spectacle... Though the flowers of evil bloom, be it known... Abominations are fated to perish!"

Headcanon:

Yusuke was interested in photography, hoping that it would help him improve his compositions and such. But then he saw the prices of good quality cameras and quickly decided against it.