#valkyries reader insert

[crescenthistory]

Carina the woman-lover, would you please indulge us by arguing for prompt A17 "a steamed-up bathroom mirror" with Miss Lily Evans?

hello?? this is the only way i will be addressed from now on, thank you for that darling! i made this a shower door instead of a mirror, hope you don't mind:,)

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

i will ARGUE for prompt 17 "a steamed-up bathroom mirror" with lily evans

carina's 2k celebration

✶・•・✦・•・✶・✶・•・✦・•・✶

cw: gn!reader, use of y/n, non-sexual nudity, marriage, happily ever after domestic vibes, lily is shorter than you because my lily hc is that she is shorter than everyone

wc: 761

There was once a time where you were genuinely concerned that you might fall out of love with Lily Evans after graduation.

The voices around you had gotten in your head, explaining that Hogwarts romances were limited to the walls of the castle, that it was the intrigue of proximity, of different houses, of Hogsmeade getaways that kept you tied together. Lily was your best friend before you ever got the courage to ask her out, and the thought of losing that made you lose sleep more than once. The amount of nights you had spent in the Astronomy Tower was, pardon the pun, astronomical – but at least it got you a new friend in the elusive Regulus Black who also frequented the tower at night. 

Despite nothing in your relationship suggesting trouble on the horizon, you were biting the skin off your nail beds in your final weeks at Hogwarts. What you had was so beautiful, so it must surely be fragile too, right?

Now you were brushing your teeth in your shared bathroom with Lily in the shower, laughing at the thought of it.

Your love was no less fragile than the walls of the flat you rented together after Hogwarts, the same one you were still happily living in years after. Lily had a full time position as a potionologist through the Ministry, developing methods of introducing lifesaving healing magic to muggle children without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. She was every bit the powerhouse of a woman you knew her to be when you fell in love. You thrived in your own dream occupation with Lily cheering you on as equal parts best friend and partner. 

Just outside your bathroom you had the Floo Network set up in your fireplace that connected to the flat Mary, Marlene and Dorcas shared, Remus and Sirius’ home and Potter Manor where James now lived with Regulus.

Oddly enough, your little family never was torn apart. After all the tragedies and pains, it became such a beautiful life.

You spit out the toothpaste in the sink one final time before rinsing your toothbrush and looking up in the mirror. Only then did you realise you were smiling, which in turn made you smile harder.

You heard a squeaking sound over your shoulder and turned around to see Lily wiping away some of the fog on the shower glass door to catch a glimpse of you. Her hands were in her hair, white shampoo coursing through red hair. 

“What are we smiling about? Have you had your coffee already?” She called loudly over the water, teasing laughter following her words.

You stuck your tongue out at her as you leaned back against the counter to work on your own hair. “Can’t I just be content, Evans?”

She hummed as if she was considering it. “Not for as long as you call me by the wrong name.”

Your grin hurt your cheeks. “My apologies, Lily Evans-L/N, it will never happen again.”

The glass was already almost entirely fogged up again, Lily becoming a distorted figure through the haze, but you caught her smile and heard her laugh over the thundering water. You could just barely see the splatter of freckles across her milky back, your fingers aching to stay home and count them all day.

You took a moment to look at her, to breathe in the smell of your hair products mixing with her body wash in the humid air, the makings of a home.

The squeaking sound came once more as Lily’s pointer finger came up to draw a rather large heart near the top of the shower door. Within it, she drew her and your initials on each side of a plus sign. Beneath it, she wrote your wedding date. You could find the remnants of that heart after each shower she took, a well-ingrained ritual.

It was a beautiful, domestic sight – just like the woman enjoying her morning while rubbing her love in your face.

“That’s it,” you murmured under your breath before walking over and cracking the shower door open.

Lily shrieked a laugh as you opened it, pretending to hide away behind the stream of water from the shower head. Luckily, you had yet to get properly dressed and didn’t care if your bathrobe got wet as you reached out for her cheek. You had finished fixing your face for the day, but you didn’t mind messing it up one bit as you brought her in across the water stream for a sweet and searing kiss.

Her lips moulded perfectly against yours, not any less than they did at Hogwarts – perhaps even more so.

Lily hummed against your lips, smile widening beneath your affection. “I love you,” she whispered, careful to place her hands on the shower door for leverage and not on you. 

You looked down at her with nothing short of a lovestruck expression. “And I love you, you little minx.” 

Another kiss, as loving as it was wet. 

You couldn’t really ask for a better way to start your day.

[moonstruckme]

hello mae! you said that you’re tentatively thinking about doing poly! jily? how about them x shy!reader who is used to spending holidays alone but now that she’s in a relationship, James and Lily wanna give her experiences of like carving pumpkins, baking cookies, or something like that.

just cute and domestic fall activities!! I hope that’s enough.

Thank you for requesting lovely!

poly!Jily x shy!reader ♡ 845 words

You smile, and James plants his lips on your cheek just before the flash. 

“Perfect,” Lily says while the camera whirs. She takes the photo it spits out, going to stow it in a shady corner of the porch. 

“Now one with you,” James urges. 

“No.” Lily waves him off as you second James’ request. “How would we get all of us and our pumpkins in it?” 

“James has long arms,” you say.

"Yeah, Evans." James grabs you roughly around the shoulders, making your face heat even as you smile. "I have long arms. Give it here."

After some debate Lily hands over the camera. James holds it out as far as he can, waiting until you’re all holding up your jack-o-lanterns before pressing the button. 

It goes beside the other photo, waiting for the film to develop. You know as soon as it does, both photos will be clustered in with the others on James and Lily’s fridge, held up by magnets beginning to lose their strength under the weight of so many. Lily has always liked to take pictures, and ever since you got together she’s been cramming ones of you into every empty space. This relationship is relatively new for you, and most days you’re still trying to figure out where you fit, but Lily and James do everything to make you feel welcome. In a million tiny ways, they show you all the time that they care just as much for you as they do for each other. 

James looks between your pumpkins pridefully. “Whose do we think turned out the best?” 

“Lily’s,” you say at the same time as Lily says, “Mine.” 

James’ mouth falls open. “Mine was good too!”

“Sorry, Jamie.” You give his shoulder a consoling pat. “Hers is just better.” 

The fact of the matter is, your girlfriend was simply patient where you and James were not. She outlined her jack-o-lantern’s face beforehand in marker, used a small knife to achieve the curvatures of one heart-shaped eye and one winking one, and took the time to make the edges of her cuts look nice and clean. James and you, however, tried to freehand things with much larger knives; it had not gone quite so well. 

“I think there should be points for creativity,” says James, frowning at his botched pumpkin. He’d tried to give it round eyes, and in the process accidentally cut more than he meant to. The result is jagged and vaguely upsetting, so eventually he decided it was an ill pumpkin and trailed its entrails out of its mouth so it looks like it’s vomiting pumpkin guts. 

“It was a very creative solution,” Lily tells James. And to you, “You did really well for your first time, too, sweetheart.” 

You snort. Yours is nearly as bad as James’. Both of your partners had to show you how to saw through the pumpkin flesh more than once to keep you from yanking the knife out and stabbing yourself. After many tutorials, you’d managed two triangle-shaped eyes, but the teeth you’d tried to put in your jack-o-lantern’s mouth had fallen out, so now it just looks like a rather simplistic, very upbeat face. 

“You did,” Lily insists, but she’s repressing a laugh too as she looks down at your pumpkin. “It’s cute.” 

“It looks like something a five-year-old could have done,” you acknowledge. 

“You and a five-year-old have about the same amount of experience carving pumpkins, so that’s not really so bad,” says James. He reaches for the polaroids Lily took. “Let’s see how these turned out.” 

“James Potter,” Lily’s voice goes sharp, “don’t you dare touch those with your slimy hands.” 

“Okay, alright.” James holds his hands up in the air. He stands instead, backing away slowly like Lily has him at gunpoint. “C’mon, lovie, let’s go fish the seeds out in the sink.” 

“What for?” you ask, following him as he carries your large bowl of pumpkin entrails inside. 

“If you separate the seeds and roast them, you can eat them.” James raises his eyebrows at you. “Don’t tell me you’ve never had pumpkin seeds before.” 

“Nope.” 

“Ugh. You poor, deprived girl.” James takes your face in his hands, and you smile despite the slick feeling of his pumpkin-y fingers on your cheeks. His eyebrows scrunch pityingly as he kisses above your nose. “We’ll right that wrong today, sweetheart, don’t you worry.” 

“You haven’t been missing out on much,” Lily says, slipping past the two of you with your photos. She wedges them underneath a magnet on the fridge. “It’s a lot of effort for a snack.” 

“She only says that because she can’t stand the guts,” James tells you conspiratorially. 

“Really?” You mash your hands into the stringy pumpkin bits. “I kind of like them.” 

Lily makes a face. “They’re all slimy and weird. And sticky.” 

“Wimp,” James teases. 

“You’ve just called them guts, James. In what world does that sound appealing?” 

“Angel,” James says in a quiet voice, “you’ll protect me, won’t you?” 

You frown at him. “Why?” 

He picks up a small mass of pumpkin guts and lobs it at your girlfriend. 

“James!”

[writerslittlelibrary]

"Children aren't payment, dipshit"

masterlist

summary: the most feared mob in all of New York only has one rival, which happens to be your father’s mob. When it turns out he is indebted to the feared mob boss Natasha Romanoff, he uses the only thing he has to pay her, you…

pairing: Mob!Natasha x rival mob young reader

warnings: guns, violence, basic mob fic stuff ig :) 

genre: angst, fluff

words: 1339

a/n: this was an adorable idea! (I feel like this is trash, but I just have to get back into my writing flow)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

It has always been difficult, being the daughter of a dangerous mob boss. It wasn’t like you were forced to kill and train with your father’s minions, but you had been living a far from normal life, to say the least.

When you turned seven, your father had called you into his office. 

You had always been a nice and obedient girl, totally opposite of your father, so when he called you to him and told you you were going to stay with your aunties for a while, you believed it. Your father had sent you and your bodyguard to your room, telling you to pack all your important items. 

Once you had finished packing, your father had given you a hug and you had been brought to the car, your bodyguard driving you across town. 

However, once the car stopped at a large apartment building, you had started getting a bit suspicious. This isn’t where your aunties lived…

Your bodyguard had taken you out of the car, but you didn’t want to, leading to him dragging you out, dragging you up to the doors of the building. Once you had arrived at the doors, two women were standing there. One had blonde hair, and the other had black hair. The women with black hair grabbed your arm, allowing your bodyguards to walk back to the car and retrieve your bag, handing it to the blonde women.

After he did so, he walked back to the car and drove away. 

The two women entered the building, walking to the elevator and pressing the button that read ‘PH’. As soon as the doors closed, the women with black hair let go of your arm. However, despite her removing her grip, you still didn’t feel like you could move freely. You were fairly certain that one wrong move and she would be on you again. 

And so, you stood perfectly still, refusing to move, even when the elevator moved a bit. 

The two women barely acknowledged your presence, instead opting to look straight ahead. You felt uneasy standing in between them. 

Once the elevator stopped at the top floor, the door opened at the women with black hair grabbed your arm again, leading you out of the elevator and to a dark wooden door. The blonde haired women walked ahead, knocking on the door twice before waiting for a “come in” to be called from the other side. 

Once the approval was given, the two women walked in, dragging you after them. 

Inside the room was another woman. You recognised her immediately. Who wouldn’t? Your father had always warned you about her. She was the most feared mob boss that New York, or the world really, had ever seen. 

You were in the office of Natasha fucking Romanoff. Were you about to get killed?

The two women walked a bit further into the room, forcefully pushing you down on the chair in front of the desk. 

You didn’t dare protest, nor did you say a word. You were absolutely terrified. Your father had warned you about this women every single day of your life, refusing to let you go outside without protection because of her, and now he had knowingly sent you to her. What the hell was wrong with him?

After you were sat down on the chair, the women with black hair exited the room again, leaving you, Natasha Romanoff, and the blonde haired women in the room. 

“Thank you for bringing her up Carol, you can put her bag in her room,” Natasha spoke, dismissing ‘Carol’ before focusing her attention on you. 

Carol left the room, leaving you and Natasha Romanoff alone. 

“I’m sure you must be very confused, sweetheart, but don’t worry, you’ll be alright,” Natasha reassured, smiling kindly as she stacked a few papers and put them off to the side.

You took a moment, gathering the courage before you spoke. 

“Why am I here…?” you asked quietly, hoping not to disturb Natasha or step out of line.

Natasha smiled, turning to you once more. 

“Your father made some pretty nasty deals. Deals that he couldn’t follow through on. He needed to pay me something, and he didn’t have the money, so I demanded you instead,” Natasha explained, leaving you to look at her with a shocked face.

“You don’t have anything to worry about, sweet girl. I promise you were are much better company than your father’s mob ever was,” Natasha stated, smiling sweetly before she moved to get up, walking around the desk towards you. 

She extended her hand, motioning for you to grab it. 

“How about we go check out your new room?” she suggested, allowing you a moment to think before you nodded and hesitantly grabbed her hand, allowing her to pull you up. 

She led you out of the office, leading you through the pent house towards another door, which was a different colour than the rest of the doors. The door was a beautiful dark shade of your favourite colour, and while you thought your favourite colour would never go with the aesthetic of the apartment, for some reason Natasha made it work. 

She pushed the door open, allowing you to step inside and take in the room. It was beautifully decorated and exactly your style. 

Your eyes widened in excitement, jumping up slightly. You weren’t able to contain your excitement as you saw the room. It was perfect. 

Natasha smiled as she observed your reaction, letting go of your hand to allow you to look around. You did, running from place to place to explore all the play items placed in the cupboards, ending your little exploration by jumping on the bed. 

“I love it!” you yelled out, letting yourself drop on the bed. 

-------------------------------------------------------------

You had lived with Natasha for about three months now, and you were happier than you had ever been. Natasha never hit you if you did something wrong, and she played with you everyday. She was willing to drop all her work if you asked her to play dress up, or if you asked her to play with your dolls. 

You had never been more loved than you were now, and you were happy your father had offered you as payment to Natasha Romanoff. 

Her henge people also adored you. You would play with them as well, and everytime they happily played with you. Your favourite were Carol and Valkyrie. They were the two women that had brought you in on the first day, and they turned out to be your best friends. 

Little did you know that Natasha had known you father hit you at home. She knew the mob boss of the rival mob was not just any criminal. He didn’t have morals, or principles. He did what he did when he felt like it. He wasn’t a good person to those he cared about, so when Natasha found out he had a daughter, she knew she needed to investigate. 

She had sent a hengemen uncover to find out more about you, and what was reported back to her shocked her. 

You were hit whenever you stepped out of line, and you were not well taken care of at all. Once Natasha learned about your situation, she decided she had to get you out, setting up an elaborate deal she knew your father couldn’t get out of.

When you father unsurprisingly failed to follow through on his end of the deal, he was in large debt with Natasha, and she knew she could demand anything from him. 

And so, she demanded she would get you as payment, knowing your father couldn’t do anything but follow through. 

Over the months she had build a soft spot for you, and she was more than glad that she had done what she did. She saved you, and now you were happy. 

Natasha Romanoff may not have been the best human being on the planet, but to those she cared about, she could not have been better. 

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddipantherr @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[sxirensdiary]

One of those days ⤑ Marauders and Co.

pairing: platonic! marauders and co. x gn!reader (marauders, valkyries, skittles) wc: 5.6k tags: slight angst (nothing bad, just reader being in a funk), lots of comfort, friends looking out for each other, readers house is left unnamed, gender not specified, gildroy lockheart, ticking and overstimulation mentioned, smoking, fighting (not serious), James being rejected, Sirius manwhore agenda, Barty being a flirt, non-sexual nudity, lots of cuddles.

You should have known that today was going to end up like this. Really, you should have, because the signs had been becoming more frequent all week. Sunday night ended with bones that felt heavier than the ones you’d find in a troll. Monday rolled around, and Professor Bins had called you out for dozing off during his lecture. The stares and giggles sent your way were embarrassing enough, but having the Gryffindors for that class meant that they would dote on you for the rest of the day. Which was sweet and all, but there was only so many times you could answer the same question before it got old. And old did it get.

Unfortunately, Tuesday wasn’t any better. You had accidentally snapped at Emmaline Vance during breakfast (for a stupid reason, you admit), and all your friends gave you the cold shoulder for it. You had to eat lunch with the Slytherins that day, and Barty had gotten way too close to knocking you over more than a few times. You skipped out on dinner that day. Wednesday was the worst kind of lonely. You were back to hanging with the Gryffindors, but they were still less than pleased with you. It was like your presence was non-existent, a ghost in a room full of people. You had to find Emma to apologize before things went back to normal, but a snide comment about “hanging around the snakes too much” made your mood dampen further.

Thursday was never ending. You tried to find solace in the library after a day of trying to control your emotions around the others, but your friends all needed to go at the same time as you, apparently. To make matters worse, your group had gotten kicked out for being “distracting”, which included you. So you had to take your studying up to your dorm, only to be kicked out because one of your roommates had company. You weren’t allowed back inside until the Hufflepuff sheepishly snuck out around midnight.

And finally, Friday came. And it came like a goddamned freight train. Because you had gone to bed so late, you accidentally slept in and didn’t get to eat any breakfast. In your rush, you had forgotten your tie, which didn’t go unnoticed by Professor McGonagoll. You had gotten 5 points taken away from your house for not dressing properly, and then another 5 for being late. Your patience was wearing thin, and you tried to avoid lashing out by sticking to yourself. But when did things ever go your way?

You had potions with both the Slytherins and the Gryffindors, which meant that your already invaded space was now double invaded. You had to shove Barty off your lap when he decided to greet you by sitting on you, then was fought over by James, Sirius, Barty, and Evan (who actually didn’t care, he just liked pissing people off ). You had to shut them up by choosing to sit with Gildroy Lockheart, who was just a dumb as he looked. It’s safe to say Professor Slughorn gave you a “A” for a potion you had to restart 4 times, and you had to distract Gildroy by getting him to talk about himself (which was torture enough), just so you could try and make the potion somewhat acceptable.

To make matters worse, the four idiots still weren’t done “fighting for custody” (Lily’s words, not yours) by the time lunch rolled around, so you had to compromise by promising Barty that you would eat dinner with them. “Perfect, dinners are more romantic than lunch anyways.” He wiggled his eyebrows salaciously at you, and you had to deal with James and Sirius in protective older brother mode for the rest of the hour. You had begun to anxiously tic by the time your afternoon classes rolled around, shivering and popping your bones when they seemed to go on for longer than they usually did. But finally, your torture was over when your last class let out. You stilled your bouncing leg by standing up as you packed up, and didn’t take a second longer than necessary to exit the classroom.

Which is how we ended up here. “C’mon, Tres. You promised your evening to us, remember?” Barty purred into your ear, putting more of his weight on you than necessary. “I said dinner, Junior. Which last time I checked, wasn’t for another 2 and a half hours.” You replied exasperatedly, basically tossing his arm off your shoulders. But, this is Barty. Tough love is his middle name (or one of them). “Which couldn’t come sooner enough. Please, gorgeous, entertain me for a sec, would you?” He pleaded, and had already begun to sink to his knees in front of you. Eyes were already beginning to turn to look at the scene, and you really couldn’t handle that right now. “Alright! Fine. Just please get up.” It was your turn to beg, and Barty let the brightest smile grace his face at your words.

“Perfect!” He jumped up, quickly wrapping his arm around yours to tug you down the hall. “I knew you loved me. Let’s go, Ev is waiting for us already.” You should have known, really, that once Barty made up his mind on something, there was no changing it. Call it manifestation (or changing the future, Merlin knows how Barty finds the most chaotic ways to do something), but you somehow always ended up giving in, even when your entire body was protesting against it.

He was right, Evan was leaning against the wall waiting when you both caught sight of him. He was nursing a cigarette, and if your mood wasn’t so shitty, you would’ve had the mind to appreciate the view. “Hey you two. I didn’t think you were going to join.” He greeted, voice muffled by the intake of smoke in his lungs. “Didn’t have much of a choice.” You rolled your eyes, and Barty feigned offense beside you. You ignored him as he began to defend himself, and instead reached out for the white stick between Evan’s tanned fingers. “I don’t think so, lovely. You know the rules.” He pulled the cigarette away, and you sighed. “It’s been a rough week, Rosie. You know I wouldn't ask otherwise.” 

The puppy dog eyes didn’t work on him (though Barty cooed at you while pinching your cheek), and he just gave you a look. “Ask again tomorrow. Matter of fact, there's a party happening, so you won’t be breaking any rules.” Still staring longingly at the drug escaping his lips, you agreed. “Fine.” He gave you a view of his pearly whites as he stubbed the unfinished cig out, not wanting to tempt you by finishing it off. He tossed it out into the courtyard, and before you could reprimand him, he dragged you into his arms. “Just looking out for you, doll. What would I do if you died of lung cancer?” “You smoke more than I do, asshole.” Your voice came out muffled due to his shoulder, and he shook with laughter. 

“You’re far more precious, Treasure. What would we ever do without you?” Came Barty’s typical theatrics, and you were then squished into a Slytherin sandwich once Barty decided he felt left out. “Sure. Now what is it you want? I need to get to my dorm.” You yawned, exhaustion settling into your muscles. You didn’t have to look at them to know that they were raising their brows at your statement. “Your dorm? You hate being in your dorm.” Evan questioned, and you just waved your hand at them. “Most days, maybe. But I currently have business there, so if we're done here…” You dismissed, and almost, almost, slipped away from them. But again, when do things ever go your way?

“Not so fast, sweet thing. I’m starting to think you want nothing to do with me anymore.” Barty chidded, and you turned to give Evan a desperate look. Said man took his time reading your expression, searching your eyes for a hint of reasoning, before bringing Barty along to catch up with you. “I wouldn’t blame her. I’ve been trying to get rid of you for years.” Barty shot him an unconvincing look, “I know you as many things, Ev, but a liar has not been one of them.” The blonde snorted out a “not true” to that. “Sure, B. Whatever helps you sleep at night. Let us walk you back, pretty?” You gave him a swift nod, and didn’t protest when he swung his arm around your shoulders to lead you towards your dorm. You did, however, pinch Barty when he slid his hand down to rest on your ass. “One day.” He sighed dreamily, envisioning your future together (“not happening” is what you tell him every time).

-

You had been alone in your dorm for a grand total of 3 minutes before being kicked out by your roommate. So here you are, being called over to a table by the window that was taken up by almost all of your female friends. And Remus. Remus was there, too. “Are you gonna stand there all day or join us?” Dorcas teased. The dumbfounded expression that once graced your face fell into a blank one, and you just adjusted your bag further up your shoulder with a sigh. “Here.” Remus called as he stood up from his corner seat to move to the one further in. “Thanks.” You breathed, noticing it was the only seat being blocked from the orange light. You moved to sit down, shrugging the bag hanging off your arm so it would lay in your lap. 

“Oh my god. Please tell me you know what happened with those two Ravenclaws, Emma.” Mary pleaded, which caused an uproar from the others in attendance. “Oh, you mean Travis and Bailey?” The aforementioned girl piped up, and you immediately realized that this was a horrible decision. Curse you and your inability to refuse. Trying your best to block out the story telling, you dug in your bag for the DADA assignment you were planning on finishing. Your papers soon became a part of the mess of books and parchments lying across the wooden table, though your quill was the only one moving. Aside from Remus. Remus was a professional at blocking out background noise (Though you guessed that made sense given who he spent most of his time with).

Maybe it was the way the sun had lowered to hit you directly with its rays. Or the scratching of quills that needed to be redipped. Perhaps the flipping of book pages? Actually, it was probably the wand tapping coming from the next table over. No wait, it was definitely the ringing in your ears paired along with the feeling of blood being pumped throughout your body. Whatever it was, all you knew was that you couldn’t seem to focus on the words in front of you with all the noise that felt like it was being blasted into your skull. Fuck, you needed out.

Remus, like the absolute angel that he was, knew there was something wrong with you immediately. Maybe it was because his lycanthropy gave him similar symptoms as the moon almost reached the height of its cycle, but he saw the signs immediately.  In fact, he had noticed the day you snapped at Emmeline, the realization that morphed into regret once you processed what you had done being all too familiar to him. Which is why he quickly, yet subtly, snapped into action.

You had been staring without blinking for over a minute before feeling something nudge your arm. You brushed off the feeling as just another thing that was enhanced by your overstimulated brain, but turned confused when it didn't go away. Looking down, you found a folded up piece of parchment poking you gently, and a pair of scarred fingers at the other end of it. Taking it, you glanced up at the werewolf, who in turn gestured for you to read it. You brought your hands to your lap to unravel the note, squinting your eyes to scan the words scrawled across it. 

“Ask me for my Transfiguration book.” 

You shot him a questioning look, and he returned it with one that read “just do it”. Clearing your throat, you cast a nervous glance across the table. “Rem? Can I borrow your Transfiguration book?” You asked, voice wavering slightly when the group of gossiping girls suddenly went silent and turned to you. “Of course. It’s in my dorm, though.” He replied, and you suddenly realized the exact message he was trying to convey. “Do you think we could go get it? Clarke still has mine and they’re busy with Emery.” You made sure to include the information, knowing that the girls would notice. 

“Emery? I thought they were talking to Davies?” Lily questioned, and Marlene gasped from her spot beside Dorcas. “Davies? I saw them with Andrew yesterday!” The girls quickly fell into discussing your roommates ex (and current) flings, and you took the chance to slip away without any questions. Remus quickly followed, giving you a look of urgency that screamed “hurry, before they drag you into it”. The both of you speed-walked all the way to the entrance of the library, and only settled into a normal pace once out into the castle’s halls.

“Thank you.” You offered your friend, and he seemed surprised at your words. “No problem. I was worried you would pass out if you stared any longer at that book.” He teased, and you knew it was his way of letting you know it wasn’t a big deal. You gave him a sarcastic laugh in response, and he just smiled back before letting the silence fall over you both. The halls were less packed at this hour, most students unwinding after classes in their dorms, which made the journey to Gryffindor tower bearable. 

Remus gave the password to the Fat Lady, and allowed you to enter first. He led you over to the usual spot your friend group took up in the common room and gestured for you to sit down. You settled into the velvet settee closest to the fireplace as Remus took your bag from you, depositing it along with his own beside the furniture. He sat down beside you with the muggle novel he had been reading, and patted his thigh for you to lay your head on. Following his instruction with no hesitation, you sighed contently when his fingers began to rub tender circles into your aching temples. You hadn’t even realized how severe the migraine you had was until it began to fade, and you wanted to send the lycan’s parents a letter of gratitude for creating such a lovely human being. 

Unfortunately, the peace didn’t last any longer than 15 minutes (which was actually a long time for this lot) before the other three quarters of his prankster group came barreling in. Quite literally, James and Sirius were tangled up in a mess of limbs from where, presumably, one of them tackled the other down the stairs of the boy’s dorms. Peter quickly followed, cheering them on as they continued to roll around on the common room’s carpeted floor. Too used to the chaos that were the Marauders, the students that had been lounging around made room to leave in favor of… anywhere else, really. Remus watched amused for a few moments, before a shift in his lap made him remember you. 

“Oi, knock it off before you break something.” He drawled, his welsh accent coming out like it usually does when he scolds the trouble makers. “The only thing that's going to break,” James hissed, pausing to dodge the hand that came an inch too close to his face, “is this tosser’s nose.”  In return, Sirius growled and tried to swipe at his best mate’s face again, only for the taller of the two to grab his wrist and hold it down. “Good luck with that, mate. You won't be able to throw a punch once I'm through with you.” The confidence that he gave off was remarkable for someone who was currently being pinned, but you really couldn’t care when the ache in your brain was returning worse than before.

A dejected sigh left Remus before he spoke up. “What are you two about, anyway?” Immediately, the two paused in their squabble to try and get their version of events out first. All it did, however, was come out in a jumble of words, and you winced at the sharp noise. Noticing, the auburn haired boy picked up his stilled hand to rest it over your ear before turning to Peter. “Pads called Prongs podgy for stretching out his vest.” The blonde explained once he caught his questioning gaze. “Wouldn’t have to if this fat bloke left it alone to begin with.” The oldest of the four grunted as he rolled them over, using James’s hair as an anchor by pulling it down. “You’re just jealous that I have more gains than you, Black.” To prove his point, the boy flipped them two back over, pressing his forearm into Sirius’s chest to keep him down while he tugged the hand in his hair out.

“Don’t need gains when the girl you’re after doesn’t like them anyway.” At this, James gasped sharply, and the noise bled through Remus’s fingers and into your ear canal. You squeezed your eyes shut, willing them to get over themselves before you actually blew an eardrum. “Oh, wise words coming from someone who can’t keep a girl around for longer than a week.” The brunette spat, and it was Sirius’s turn to gasp. “By choice!” The tattooed man defended himself, and began to thrash around while trying to land a hit wherever he could. 

The werewolf groaned, his unoccupied hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of his nose, before turning back to the brawling duo. “You’re both very pretty, now can you please stop? We can just use a shrinking spell to fix your vest, Pads.” He pleaded, and couldn't help but feel pity for how you must be feeling if his own head was hurting this much. Simultaneously, both of the Gryffindors froze at the spoken words, and their heads snapped over to where you both were perched. “You think I’m pretty?” They chimed in unison, faux bashfulness in their tone. At the sudden calmness, you picked up your head to survey the situation. Deeming it safe, you sat up and turned to your idiotic friends.

The sight of them caused your lips to quirk up, and you wished you had a camera with you to capture it. James was hovering over Sirius, one of his hands on the latter’s chest to keep him down while the other was on the pale cheek beneath him. He was using the placement as leverage to push his own head away, trying to be freed of the ink stained hand tangled in it. Sirius’s other hand was reeled back from where he was preparing to land a hit, and you could’ve sworn he was preparing to knee the tanned male in his groin.

“Very. Now both of you apologize, say something nice, and hug it out.” Remus chidded. “I’m sorry I ruined your vest, next time I'll ask before borrowing it. You have a great fashion sense and I wanted to look good like you.” James went first, and he pouted remorsefully down at the dog animagus. “S’alright. I’m sorry for calling you fat, and I actually think it looked better on you than it did on me.” Sirius followed, and the two cooed at each other dramatically before falling into a tight embrace. You rolled your eyes at their theatrics, sharing a look with Remus when they began to fake cry into each other. (“I love you, Prongsie. Let's never fight again!” “I love you too, Paddy, never again.”)

“...Anyways.” Your voice cut through the room, and you moved to settle back into the cushions, leaning your head against Remus’s arm. Peter stepped around the now cuddling boys to join the two of you, and slumped down into an armchair. You let out a breath or relief, basking in the newfound quiet with closed eyes. Right as you were about to doze off, however, James’s voice cut through the air. “Wha- is that my necklace!?”

Apparently, he had moved to rest against Sirius’s chest when he felt the familiar pendant. “Uh… no?” The accused male answered unsurely, and shrunk back at his angry counterpart. “Unbelievable, making a fuss over your vest while wearing my necklace. You best be sorry, you mangy mutt!” The ‘mangy mutt’ in question took offense to the name, and it wasn’t long before they were back to scuffling around on the ground. You threw your head back in frustration, groaning at the new disturbance. You brought your hands up to push your palms into your eyes, only bringing them back down when you felt a tap on your thigh. 

Looking up, you found Remus nodding over to where the duo had somehow found their way back towards the stairs. He then gestured over to the door and mouthed “go, save yourself”. You wasted no time in doing so, not even bothering to grab your belongings as you booked it to the doorway through the newly cleared path. You pushed the painting open just as the human ball rolled in the opposite direction, missing you only by a few inches. You breathed out as you successfully made it out alive, calming down from the sudden rush of adrenaline. A loud crash came from the now closed entrance, and you slowly turned to make eye contact with the Fat Lady. 

“Hooligans, I tell you. Not a moment of peace with those two.” She sounded disgusted, and the way her chin was jutted up proved it further. “Tell me about it.” You muttered, turning to get as far away as possible, scared that if you lingered any longer you would get dragged back in. Checking the time, you groaned as you noticed there was only half an hour until your “date” with the Slytherins. There was no use heading back to the library, seeing as it would take half the time to get there, only for you to immediately head back to make it in time. 

You could perch on one of the windows around the castle, but the bustle of people going to and fro would only bother you further. You could go and sit by the lake, but you decided otherwise once you noticed a few third years tossing around a ball. The courtyard was usually bustling around this time, most people loitering there due to its closeness to the Great Hall, which was absolutely a no. It seemed that everywhere in the castle was either too far, too loud, or too risky. The thought of bumping into any one of your friends was less than ideal.

Not that you hated your friends, far from it, really. But your mood was terrible and getting worse by the second. You would feel guilty for lashing out at them for no reason. It wasn’t their fault for wanting to have a good time chatting, and you shouldn’t expect them to cater to your own needs. On any normal day, you would find yourself enjoying their company, basking in the lighthearted teasing and booming laughter. The loud personalities of all your friends was the sunshine on a rainy day, and you loved them for it. If only you weren't in the mood to just ignore everything and sit in silence for the rest of the evening.

You were snapped out of your thoughts by a soft mewl, and you slowed to a stop once you spotted one of the many Hogwarts cats laying on a bench. Its tail swished as it stared at you, and you approached it gently, not wanting to startle it. You offered your hand once you were close enough, and it leaned forward to sniff at it. You calmed your breath as it did so, suddenly realizing how fast you had been doing so previously, and relaxed once it pressed its head into your waiting palm. You gently lowered yourself into the spot beside it, and began to run your fingers through its soft fur. 

Unfortunately, things never go your way, and a sprinting second year startled your feline friend. The cat jumped and began to flee, and you wanted to cry for it to come back. You groaned for the umpteenth time that day, and slid down into your seat. Great, now who were you supposed to cuddle with in complete silence? You didn’t have a cat, and Hogwarts cats had a habit of only being found when they wanted to. You watched the cat finally disappear around the corner of the corridor, and found yourself missing its black fur. The color was sleek and shiny, its beauty compared only to the stones made of obsidian. Not even Sirius’s hair was that dark, having grey strands mixed in like his cousins. There was only one other person you knew that had hair darker than the night sky on a new moon, and it just so happened to be his brother, Regulus. 

“Wait a second…”

You jolted up, realization filling your brain as you thought about your own best friend. God, how could you have forgotten about him? The only other person who understood you in times like these, the one who you offered solitude to when he was feeling like you currently did. Feeling utterly stupid for being so absentminded, you picked yourself up off the bench with a newfound purpose, and made your way towards the Dungeons with haste. 

-

The entrance to the emerald green common room was revealed once you gave the password, and you quickly stepped in. You barely registered the sound of the stone snake slithering back down once inside, too busy making a b-line for the dorms. It seemed like your body began to grow more sluggish the closer you got to your destination, and by the time you stopped in front of the door you were searching for, you were nothing but a melting puddle of flesh and bones. You opened the door and peeked in, a relieved smile on your lips as you found Regulus inside. 

He was lying on his bed with a book settled over his legs that were crossed, and his torso was leaning into his fluffed pillows (Reg was the only boy in that dorm who made his bed perfectly. Evan did his half-assed, and Barty didn't bother making it at all). He barely spared a glance at your sluggish state before he was picking up his wand and waving it around lazily. You watched a pair of sleep pants fly out from his wardrobe and land beside him. Once he noticed you lingering by the door, he picked up his head to give you an expectant look. 

You snapped out of your daze and blinked yourself back into reality, then began to make your way over. You picked up the pants, heart warming once you noticed they were your favorite pair of his, and set them back down to shrug off your bottoms. You shivered at the cool air hitting your bare legs, and hurriedly stepped into the warm trousers. They were oversized, but you really didn’t mind. Regulus was the tallest out of the bunch, so you weren’t surprised when the crotch of them hung around your mid-thigh. You couldn’t be bothered to roll them up, having better priorities now that you were craving to join him in bed. You picked up the shirt now waiting where the trousers once did, and quickly replaced it with your own.

Once you finished dressing, you looked up to find everything else the Slytherin did for you. The curtains framing the windows that peered out to the Black Lake were now drawn, and the only lighting being provided were from the candles now lit. The orangey glow made the room feel even more appealing, which was something you didn’t think was possible. The enchanted gramophone in the corner was now playing your favorite classical record, and you found yourself feeling sentimental with how well he knew you.

Your eyes found their way back to your best friend, and the fondness in your chest was overflowing once you noticed he was already waiting for you. He had adjusted his position by moving over to make space for you, and was now fully laying down with his head against the pillows. You clambered on to the bed and quickly settled against his side, curling into him and burying your head into the space he opened up between his arm and chest. Once you were comfortable, he returned his hand back to his book, successfully caging you in from the outside world.

“Took you long enough.” His voice murmured low into your hair, and you huffed. Of course he had known you’d come crawling to him, he knows you better than you know yourself, it seems. “The universe was keeping up apart, I fear.” You replied with your tired tone, and his chest bounced in an amused huff. There were no more words spoken from either of you, not that there needed to be. No, everything came in a quick understanding of each other, like a silent agreement. The calm that radiated off of the composed teen soothed your aching bones, and you suddenly couldn’t remember any of the inconveniences this week had produced. They melted away like the tension that once lay in your aching tendons did, and every symptom you had once felt was shunned back into non-existence.

You didn’t know exactly when you fell asleep, but it came quickly and with ease. In your unconscious state, you didn’t notice anything going on in the world outside of you and your companion. If you had somehow stayed awake, maybe you would have noticed the featherlight kiss that was pressed into your crown. Maybe you would have felt when his own exhaustion grew too much, and he set his book down on the bedside table to join you in slumber. Maybe you would have witnessed him relax into you, his legs intertwining with your own as his head pressed into your own. Maybe you would've been aware of the way his arms wrung around you, bringing you close, and the way you did the same back.

When you did regain consciousness, it wasn’t until the late hours of the night. The glow that had once peeked out from behind the curtains was now gone, as was the sun. The rise and fall of the chest beneath you let you know that you were still where you had fallen asleep, but now with a new addition. Wanting to know what the weight that covered your body was, you picked up your head to investigate. Through sleep bleared eyes, you recognized the lump as none other than Barty. He was sprawled face down across you and Reg, his arms wrapped around each of you with his head buried in your abdomen. His feet were hanging off the bed, and you noticed a second pair alongside them. 

That discovery made you aware of the second presence behind you, and you craned your neck to see the head of bleached hair pressed into your lower back. Evan was tucked into you (and partially Barty), with his body morphing along the curves you had created. One of his legs was strewn over Barty’s, and the weight of his arm against your hip was comforting. His hand was curled into the shirt of the brash man above you, and you noticed how said man was doing the same to Evan’s. To anyone else, this situation might have been uncomfortable, but it somehow worked for the four of you.

The rest of the room was quiet, the record having finished at some point where no one was awake to flip it, and their last roommate was nowhere to be found, probably in the comfort of another's bed, much like you were. Trying your best not to disturb your boys, you reached for Regulus’s wand. Finding it underneath his pillow, you drew it and flicked it to turn out the flames of the candles. Satisfied, you returned the tool to its resting place, cringing when it's owner stirred underneath you. 

Unfortunately, the boy’s eyes fluttered open. They met your own in a questioning glance, and you watched them move to make the same discovery you did moments prior. Amusement and faux annoyance mixed across his face, and he just plopped his head back into his pillow. The hand that was resting against your bicep came up to push your head back down into his chest, and you smiled a smile that showed off your teeth. A similar one graced Regulus, who didn't have to open his eyes to replicate it, already knowing you were doing it. You enjoyed the sight for a second longer before nuzzling your face back into him, sighing contently as you moved with his breaths that came in slow succession. His heart pounding behind his ribcage made the perfect lullaby, and you kept yourself awake a little longer to appreciate the rhythm it made. 

You fell back asleep soon after, and slept soundly through the rest of the night. And once morning came, you all slept even longer, none wanting the peacefulness to end. It wasn’t until the morning blended right into the afternoon that it did. And you would be pleased to find that, besides your rumbling stomach, all of yesterday’s worries were exactly that. Yesterday’s worries.

[6rookie-writer0110]

Request - Hey, can you write some headcannons please for being Valkyrie’s (MCU) younger brother?

•Your older sister Valkyrie taught you how to fight and how to use swords.

•You and Valkyrie are close and very protective of each other.

•If anyone messed with you then she would beat them up

•But you could never beat her when it comes to drinking liquor because she would win.

•When you and Valkyrie fight enemies, you two would show off and prove who is stronger.

•Not many people knew that Valkyrie had a younger brother.

•Sometimes you and your sister would argue then ignore each other then act like nothing happened.

•Sometimes, you and Valkyrie would have a competition to see who gets the most girls.

•Thor likes hanging out with you and Valkyrie.

•When you got badly injured from the enemy, she snapped and killed the enemy with her swords.

•She would give you advice on what girls like and you just roll your eyes at her.

•Jane and Darcy didn't know Valkyrie had a brother because she never told them.

•When she became the new king of New Asgard, you were happy for her.

•She would make you call her King Valkyrie, but you won't do it.

•Because of her you met Carol Danvers and Kamala Khan.

•She hates it when you use her swords for training because you almost broke them last time.

•You would get annoyed when she flirts with girls around you.

•It’s rare but you and your sister would have deep conversations.

•When she gets new weapons she thinks it's much better than yours.

•You would go to her for advice sometimes it would be good or bad advice.

•When she became the new King, she was too busy to spend time with you. But she would try hard to spend time with you.

•When you joined a team for the first time she said-

“This team of yours, it got a name?”

“We are working on it”

•She didn't trust them and it was noticeable.

•When you are too serious on a mission with your sister

“Mate relax, we are on the same team”

“This is serious!” You yelled.

•” You’re a Viking now, which means you pretty much have to die in battle.”

“I don't want to die, I’m still young,” You said

“Don’t say that out loud again, Y/N”

•When you get drunk with your sister, you two are very clumsy.

•Doesn’t matter what age you are, she will always protect you.

[a-nonnie-mousse]

today was so stressful 😭

[twst-drabbles]

Scarabia 7

Summary: An iridescent feather was all it took for Kalim to pack up his bags and drag Jamil to the kingdom of the faeries. Jamil has trouble understanding this odd fascination he has. In fact, it’s almost scaring him a bit.

(Trust me when I say this AU has not been exiting my mind. It’s been floating around in there, but for some reason my fingers could not get it out. The fingers and brain would much rather churn out other things. Weird weird brain. Hate having to wrestle with it so. Also excuse the errors, I am kinda sleepy.)

From birth until death, Jamil will always be expected to entertain all of the wills and whimsies of Kalim. He cannot deny him any request if it is within his means, nor should he scorn him when he clearly is making mistakes. A servant, a guide, and a source of comfort all wrapped up in one. And all he has to do is keep this facade perfect until the day Kalim dies.

…what a joke, such a thing won’t happen. His services will likely be passed onto Kalim’s child, if he even makes it to that age. And if not his child, then the next sibling. Retirement is a dream meant for the privileged, and so long as those privileged few exist, Jamil will be made to serve them.

Jamil cannot ask too many questions, especially when it carries the possibility of offending the master.

He cannot ask Kalim of the origins of that iridescent feather. Cannot question why Kalim has spent the entire week simply gazing at it. Cannot even ask if he can look at it, no matter how familiar it may seem to him.

His dreams, they don’t matter, so he must always stifle them.

Clearly this wasn’t his place, and all Jamil can do is sigh in frustration when Kalim locked himself in his room. And sigh even deeper when Kalim burst out his room one day, claiming he wished to vacation in the main kingdom of faeries. Wanted to see the sight where the most beautiful feather came from.

And off they went on a personal caravan. And onto the dark stone they walk.

“And what will you do with this bird, if you end up finding it?”

How silly. Jamil already knows the answer to it already.

“Hmm? Ah, well I’m gonna keep it of course!” And the smile on Kalim’s face was as big as ever. Any wider and it would seem manic, but that’s simply the way his happiness works. He feels it in all of its intensity, even should it warp his features into something almost unplesant.

“Though, with how big of a cage you purchased, I’d predict I’ll have to take care of it sooner or later, won’t I?” As everything does. Cute novelties always lose their luster within half a year. Such was the fate of Kalim’s private zoo when he asked for it for his birthday. There were other servants to take care of it, but it never sit right with Jamil to just, let them do part of the work when he can perfectly take care of it himself.

That and his parents scolded him for daring to slack off, even though he pulled multiple muscles in his back. He could never quite lay back on his chair the same way ever since.

“Oh no, I don’t want you to touch them.”

Jamil stopped his tracks, the frankness of Kalim’s tone and the never wavering smile on his face almost had him believing he imagined it. “…Kalim?”

Kalim paused himself, blinking before his mind was pulled from his thoughts. He waved his hands, fumbling about in his nerves. “Ah, I’m sorry! That didn’t come out right, did it?”

“Whether it came out right or not doesn’t matter. If you don’t want me to touch your newest pet, then so it shall be,” Jamil shook his head, sighing out in hopes the urge to bit his lip will also pass.

“Sorry sorry…”

What Kalim doesn’t know won’t hurt him. The role of the perfect servant isn’t something that Jamil can simply be. It’s an act, a mask, and every so often Jamil has to pull it off.

Kalim was always a heavy sleeper, even more so when he’s been drinking from the various wines he had Jamil bring. Under the guise of some jovial fun, Jamil coaxed Kalim into drinking much more than usual. No thunderstorm would be able to wake him up. Kalim once almost drowned outside in a storm like that, napping without anything to protect him.

Jamil doesn’t sleep in the same room as Kalim, but here he was nonetheless. He took a glance to Kalim splayed out in his pile of pillows and blankets, sighed, then continued digging through the various bags and luggage.

Finally, Jamil’s fingers hit something. He pulled out a large, gold gilded, black box with a keyhole in it. He didn’t have to look for the key. It was tied with a silk ribbon right at the bottom of the box. Really, Kalim needs to be more careful, but Jamil certainly won’t tell him so. Perhaps later, but not now.

He opens the box and he was almost… disappointed at the sight. The feather was dull. All the rainbow light that would scatter upon the surface of the walls when daylight hit it wasn’t there. The plumes still pulsed with those delicate colors, but it didn’t hold the radiance that Jamil knows he saw when it was Kalim’s hands.

From his dreams, the shape was the same, and yet it was missing just about everything else. What was it, beyond its glow? The lack of numbers? The sturdy feeling of wings against his body? The face that was connected to it?

Face… what face? No matter how hard Jamil tried to claw through his memories, that face he wanted to see was no clearer.

Even with his disappointment, Jamil plucked the feather and held it in his hand.

Only then did its glow come back. A kaleidoscope of colors flowed forth and blinded Jamil’s unprepared eyes. He winced and held the feather to his chest, just in case it woke up Kalim.

He waited, but only heard a snort and a shifting. He’s still asleep.

Jamil blinked, tears dotting the corners of his eyes from the brightness of it all.

There it was, the beauty he’s been seeking, that Kalim had been hoarding all to himself.

How silly. How stupid to be so taken by a feather. To have this simple item that was nothing more than a gift from a pen pal to Kalim to haunt Jamil so. To haunt both of them, actually.

Even with all those reservations in mind, Jamil lifted that feather and laid a gentle kiss on the body. It felt nice, feeling the plumes brush against his lips.

…he should put this away and go to bed. Kalim must never know what he just did.

[c0nfessions-of-a-writing-freak]

A Lightfury’s Guide to Stealing A Dragon Rider -- Revival

So, A Lightfury’s Guide to Stealing A Dragon Rider was the first thing I ever wrote for this Tumblr and it was a series that did well in my opinion. Recently I've reread the fics in the series so I could remember what I had started and try to see why the story may have done well.

Upon reading it I realised that the fic went in a very different direction from what I had originally planned, which may have been one reason it was never finished. I think the stray was in one of the first few chapters and since this fic got cut so short by the last chapter I uploaded, it was completely different from what I imagined.

Now, based on the title you can probably guess where this is going. I want to give this fic another shot. I originally had much bigger plans (and much longer ones as well) and I want to see if this time I can do them justice. I will be starting from scratch on this fic and it will be a long time before it makes its way onto Tumble (among two other platforms which I will reveal when it's time), but this is an announcement saying that it is coming one day.

[therealvalkyrie]

the morning, the evening

Pairing/setting: Farmer!Ushijima Wakatoshi x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.6k Warnings: very fluffy, implied sex, reader wants a baby AN: I've been working on this sporadically for *checks watch* 2.5 years so I hope y'all fucking like it lmao. I really struggled with tying up the ending, so if it feels abrupt that's why! also was too intimidated to try and write baby-making smut, so feel free to imagine those particular shenanigans in your own huge and wrinkly brainsicle. love you all! ~valkyrie

It’s on mornings like this that you feel most unlike yourself. When you slip out of bed before your husband and tug on one of his huge flannels, the sun just peeking into your window. It’s too early. Too early to think, too early for food, too early to do anything but slip out onto the porch in bare feet and curl up on the porch swing. The birds are just waking up with you -- chickadees singing a greeting and the chickens clucking softly in reply. The dewy air sends goosebumps up your bare legs and settles in your lungs as mist clings to the ground. It makes you feel a little lost, a little out of place; mornings have never been meant for you.

When your husband wakes up with the rooster, he joins you on the porch swing, the screen door creaking shut behind him, and hands you a cup of coffee. You lean into his sturdy side and clutch your third favorite mug with both hands (the handle broke last year when you dropped it on the kitchen tile). He doesn’t say anything, just presses his lips to your temple and looks out to the mountains with you. He knows you’ve never been meant for mornings.

When his yellow mug is empty, he rubs your bent knee with a huge hand and leaves you to start farm chores. You may be entitled to a slow start, but the horses expect breakfast before 7 or they’ll be ornery all day.

The sun burns enough dew away for the farmhand’s truck to kick up dust as he drives up your long driveway -- your cue to go put on pants. Back in the bedroom, the stained glass ornaments hanging in the windows are casting shifting rainbows on the wall. This is what lifts your lips for the first time today and prompts the first sip of tepid coffee. You sprawl out on your unmade bed, stretching like a cat in a sunspot made just for you.

By the time you pad downstairs in jeans and an airy blouse, the morning has begrudgingly made a space for you in between its sense of purpose and quiet watchfulness. You set about making breakfast and more coffee, nudging the kitchen awake. You say good morning to the toaster and the butter bell and the kettle on the stove and purposely ignore the dishwasher, which has been giving attitude since the weekend.

You’re murmuring quietly to a pancake when Wakatoshi clomps back in, hanging his hat on the hook by the door.

“Good morning,” you greet, offering up your cheek, which he kisses along with a heavy hand on your hip.

“Does the pancake ever talk back?” he wonders aloud, looking over your shoulder into your cast iron pan.

“Not yet,” you reach for your spatula and grin up at him, “which is what makes it such a good listener.”

He hums thoughtfully and squeezes your waist with his big hand before turning away to reach for plates from the cupboard.

Breakfast passes in conversation about the farrier visiting in the afternoon -- some horses are due for new shoes -- between bites of food. Toshi disappears out the back door to start the rest of his day and you load dishes into the dishwasher. It grumbles to life after a swift kick to the bottom left corner. You’ll have to call the plumber before the weekend.

You’re feeling halfway back to yourself again when you settle into your creaky wooden office chair. It’s nearly the end of the month, which means today is for paying bills and making calls. It’s not nearly as much of a task as it was when you first took over the business side of the farm. Then, you’d had to wade through fifty years of an unintelligible filing system and re-negotiate deals that Wakatoshi’s grandparents had made just as long ago. You’ve always had a way with numbers and a sense for business; it’s the local politics that gave you trouble. People this far into farming country simply don’t trust outsiders, no matter if they’re married to the local golden boy.

Wakatoshi says it had been the same for his father, coming in as an outsider and marrying the beloved daughter of a beloved family. That’s why he’d left, when Toshi was just a kid, never having managed to really feel at home in the community or on the farm.

“But he didn’t have the advantage of your smile,” he’d joked, poking the corner of your mouth gently as you lay in bed late one night a couple of weeks after your wedding.

You’d giggled, swatting his hand away and burying your face into his broad chest. “Do you really think they’ll like me?” you asked in a small voice after a quiet moment.

“They’ll love you. Just like I do.”

You wouldn’t quite say they love you, but the town has at least grown to tolerate you after you’d asserted yourself into their daily lives. Miss Betty at the feed store still doesn’t give you a discount on grain like she had your mother-in-law, and Mary Fletcher still calls you a gold digger behind your back. But at least you’ve made good enough friends with her cousin Amber, who boards her horse in your stables and comes by almost every weekend, to hear about it.

You begin to sweat as the summer announces that it’s still here in the late morning and turn on the rotating fan in an effort to stay cool. The dial of the old rotary phone whirs under your fingertips as you call up the bank, one bare foot bouncing in the air where your leg dangles over the armrest of your chair and receiver cradled to your ear.

It’s a tedious conversation with Laurie, the one and only bank teller, whose daughter is going off to college in just a couple of weeks, that carries you over into lunchtime. You eventually manage to steer her in the direction of the purpose of your call, learning, amidst tidbits about her daughter’s roommate and her son’s soccer tryouts, that your check to the vet had bounced because of an error on the bank’s end. Thank God.

“Shit, that woman can talk,” you breathe when the receiver is safely in its cradle, and Laurie won’t threaten to wash out your mouth with soap for using foul language.

With a deep exhale, you allow your head to fall onto the back of the chair, languishing in the buzzing heat. For the millionth time this summer, you think back to your tiny city apartment, with its shitty water pressure and shitty commute and heavenly air conditioning. What you wouldn’t give….

Well, you wouldn’t give up Wakatoshi, for one.

And you’d had that, with him. You fit him into your tiny shower, washing each other’s bodies and then fucking on the bathroom counter when he couldn’t figure out how to finagle his limbs to fit. He kissed you every morning before work, pressing a packed lunch into your hands.

He proposed under your favorite oak tree in the park at peak foliage, asking you to marry him and move back to his home. You said yes.

You meant it.

But, God. This heat.

The afternoon drags you down, oppressive and lingering, and you find yourself incapable of thinking anymore.

You pass Wakatoshi on your way across the driveway and give him a brief wave, your ring of keys hanging off your middle finger.

“I’ll be back for dinner,” you call as he takes off his hat and runs his fingers through his sweaty hair.

He watches the way your legs propel you up into the elevated cab of his truck, loaded with some buzzing anxiety to move, even through this thick air.

“Okay,” he says.

The first summer you knew Wakatoshi, he invited you to visit home with him for a week. You weren’t together yet, still dancing on the periphery of a relationship with that youthful arrogance of those barely touching adulthood. Halfway through the six-hour drive from the city, he pulled over at a farmstand and bought peaches and lemonade. You ate them in the bed of his truck parked under a maple tree, boughs flush with green and peach juice slipping down your chin.

These grocery store peaches aren’t quite as tender --  you’re just too far North to get them really fresh -- but they’ll do. Still, you worry they’ll bruise as you set the paper grocery bag on the passenger seat next to the bakery box already there. You stand there for a second dumbly, trying to think of a better way to pack them in among your other groceries so they won’t bump around, until the afternoon sun has sunk into the top of your head so it feels like your brain is melting to the inside of your skull. Feeling a little foolish, but otherwise at a loss, you buckle the grocery bag and the box into the seat.

That makes you grin to yourself and snort a giggle as you slam the passenger door and circle around to the other side of the truck. The engine turns and complains for a second before giving in.

Sometimes this is all you need to put yourself back in your body. This little ritual of grocery shopping by yourself -- driving with the music turned up, reading ingredient labels, watching the deli counter guy slice half a pound of provolone. That mundanity, that routine of an adult woman who buys her own groceries, puts everything else in perspective.

You’re here because you want to be. Because you chose to be.

You come to a decision.

Wakatoshi doesn’t pick up the phone when you call on your way out of town, but that’s to be expected. This time of day, he’s most likely out with the horses, and cell reception gives out only a quarter-mile into the pastures. The call goes to voicemail, and you smile to yourself as his recorded voice instructs you to please leave a message. The tone beeps.

“Hey, I’m headed home now. I’ll be there in, uh, about fifteen? Anyway, meet me down at the pond for dinner. Maybe… six-thirty? I thought we’d do something a little special. Okay, I love you!”

The pond is at the East edge of the property, fed by a brook that bubbles out of the foothills. On the side opposite of where the horse pastures end, there is a willow tree that stretches and drapes down to trace the surface of the water. It is under that willow tree that you unpack your picnic basket, pouring white wine into thermos mugs as the low sun streaks through branches.

The heat of the day is finally breaking, giving way to a cacophony of peeper frogs that you can normally only hear distantly in the house. Here, it fills your mind and allows you to think of nothing else but watching the distant silhouette of your husband crossing the pasture towards you. He’s backlit, long shadow reaching across the fence long before he does. You watch him walk in an easy, rolling gait through long grass, watch him hop the fence like he was born for it.

And he was, you remind yourself. He was born for these wide spaces and nature smells. Where you must find space for yourself in the uninhabited corners of the farm (the office, the Eastern edge, the kitchen), he fills the rest as naturally as water fills the pond.

He says your name at the edge of the willow tree, ducking under a bough.

“Hello, love,” you say and smile and pat the blanket next to where you’re sitting.

Your husband sits, folding his legs under him like a little kid. It makes your heart feel a little tender as you tuck yourself into his side and explain your meal: sandwiches and fruit, cherry pie and wine for dessert. He thanks you simply, bending down to kiss you in that slow way that caught you like honey in a trap that first night in front of your apartment building, all those years ago. He tastes like vanilla chapstick.

You eat. Wakatoshi tells you about his day. About the farrier's visit and fixing a leak in the chicken coop’s roof.

“Wakatoshi,” you say, leaning forward to pick at the grass as he works the stone out of a peach with his pocket knife. He hums, deft in his work but listening. “What would you say about having a baby?”

He makes a sharp noise of pain and you look over, wide-eyed, to see he’s sliced clean through the peach and into his own palm. The blood wells before your eyes, mixing with peach juice as you gasp and lunge for the paper napkins in the basket.

“You have to be more careful! What if you seriously--” “Yes,” he cuts you off as you’re taking his hand in both of yours, setting the fruit and knife aside, and wadding up the napkins to stop the bleeding.

“What?”

“I’d say yes to having a baby.” He’s looking right at you with those hazel eyes, the expression in them so close to reverence it stuns you.

“Oh,” you breathe, staring straight back.

At that exact moment, the setting sun glows orange at the top of the pasture hill, streaking Wakatoshi’s cheek with gold through the willow branches. All the breath is gone from you, your head gone light from having this question you’ve mulled over for weeks answered so simply.

His uninjured hand finds your cheek, tucks stray hair away from your face.

“Are you asking? Do you want to have a baby?”

“I-- Yes. I’m asking.”

He smiles, soft as the cattails that sway at the opposite edge of the pond, and leans in to meet your lips with his. You let yourself sink into it for a moment, unable to stop smiling against his mouth, but pull away to further inspect the slice across his palm. He lets you, his fingers curled gently inward while you dab away blood and rub a gentle thumb on his wrist, but his gaze never wavers from your face. It’s intense-- almost like how it was when you first knew him, but with an undercurrent of affection that makes your chest warm.

“It doesn’t look too deep,” you conclude, folding up some clean napkins and pressing them to the wound. “But we should clean it--”

“It can wait.”

“But it could still get infected, what if--”

“It can wait,” he interrupts again, insisting with gentle obstinance. The next words are low in his chest. “I can’t.”

You don’t get back to the house until late, August constellations suspended thickly overhead. It’s like you’re kids again and the barn cat is your mother, watching disapprovingly from her perch on the porch railing as you sneak in after curfew, wine-tipsy and elated. Your husband crowds in the door after you, handsy even after you’ve done nothing but touch each other all evening. You pull him into the kitchen and make him wash his wound thoroughly, your thumbs rubbing into the meat of his palm.

“I hope our daughter has your eyes,” he says. He’s close, his own eyes finding yours in the almost-dark.

“A daughter, huh?”

“A daughter. She’ll be just like you.”

“And what am I like?” you ask, coy, looking up at him through your lashes in the starlight streaming in the window.

Wakatoshi leans forward gently, resting his brow on yours. “You are,” he swallows thickly, eyes fluttering closed, “you are the world.”

Your day ends nothing like it began. Your day ends with utter surety of your place in this house, in this town, in Wakatoshi’s arms. The day ends and you feel completely yourself again, cradled in the gently rolling hills of the life you’ve chosen.

[crescenthistory]

💌 = fluff I 📭 = angst I 📬 = hurt/comfort I 📜 = smut I 🪧 = humour

𖤐 the valkyries

includes: lily, mary, marlene (&dorcas&pandora)

headcanons

☆ who are the valkyries? (the holy grail of crescenthistory canon) + how i see them (aesthetic)

☆ silly thoughts about the valkyries

marlene mckinnon

(1.5k) on cold mornings & sleepy girlfriends (💌: bed sharing with marlene, trying to postpone her getting up)

(2k) locked out (💌🪧: firefighter!marlene flirts on the job while helping you and mary back into your flat)

(1.2k) hey miss bartender (💌: flirty bartender!marlene and sneaky bsf!pandalily)

features in — poly!dorlene

(2k) You Ready, Gorgeous? (💌: bsf!marylily helps you get ready for your first official date with the two girls you have been pining for)

lily evans

(0.8k) hearts in the shower steam (💌: domestic morning getting ready together with your wife lily in the shower)

features in — poly!pandalily

(0.8k) messy bedsheets (💌: waking up in your new flat in a bed-arrangement that is quintessential of your girlfriends)

find more of dorcas and pandora in the slytherin skittles masterlist

[moonstruckme]

hiii this my first request ever, and ur one of my absolute favorites on this app so i figured ur the perfect person to ask my first request��� kinda simple but anything with lily evans and fem reader would be beautiful🙈 i love that girl and there’s never enough of her:(

ok aggh ur awesome byee<3

Honored to be your first request babe! Hope you like it <3

Lily Evans x fem!reader ♡ 824 words

Lily wakes to sunlight streaming through the windows and flowers on the nightstand. She turns her head to see them better, stretching as she does, enjoying the warmth of the light that kisses her bare shoulder beside the strap of her tank top. It’s a mix of tulips, baby’s breath, and, because you can never resist, lilies, pink and white blooming out of a thick bottomed vase. 

She leans out of bed to smell them. It’s nice, sweet and fresh to offset the slightly chemical smell that lingers from painting your room the night before. The color is called sea foam, and in the morning light Lily feels gratified that you’ve made the right choice. Your walls are the color of a clear sky. It’s going to look perfect with your art and photos and all the little pieces of your life put up against it. 

There’s a different sort of nice smell coming out of the kitchen, which is where Lily finds you. Humming something from the radio while scraping eggs around in a pan with a plastic spatula. You don’t startle when she wraps her arms around you from behind. Lily likes to think it’s because you feel as safe and at home here as she does. 

“Good morning.” You smile. Lily kisses the corner of it, your jeans scratchy against her hip. 

“Good morning,” she says back. “You’ve been busy.” 

“Yeah, I woke up early and couldn’t get back to sleep.” You turn your attention back to the eggs, but your fingers tangle with Lily’s. “Figured I might as well get some things done.” 

“What time is it?” 

“Around eleven.” 

Lily lets out a little breath, though she’s not very surprised. “I don’t know how I slept in so late.” 

“I think you needed it.” You pivot slightly, just enough to rest the side of your head against hers. “You’ve been working hard.” 

That’s true; you both have. After moving into the apartment last Sunday, the rest of the week has seen the two of you coming home from work every day and unpacking, hunting for furniture, priming walls, changing light bulbs, and organizing your things late into the night. It’s Saturday now, and though Lily is pleased with the results of your work, she’s exhausted. You must be, too. 

“Maybe we could have a nap this afternoon,” she says. Turns her face into yours to smush a kiss into your cheek. “Thank you for the flowers, by the way. They’re beautiful.” 

“Guess you were named appropriately, then,” you hum. It’s an overused line, from your lips, but secretly Lily loves it every time. 

She slips her hands beneath the cotton of your shirt, hugging your bare skin. “What are you making, lovely?” 

“Scrambled eggs.” Your voice has softened at her touch. “I cut up some fruit, too, it’s in the fridge.” 

Lily lets out a sigh that’s a little like a moan, but at the way your skin warms she can’t bring herself to feel shy over it. “You’re too good for me.” 

“Not true. I’m just trying to get even. You’re the one who picked the color in the bedroom, and that looks amazing, did you see?” 

“I did see.” Her earlier satisfaction grows at the thought that you’re as pleased with it as she is. “We did a good job, there.” 

“That was all you,” you say, turning your face into hers for a kiss. You taste bright, like the fruit Lily now suspects you sampled while preparing it. Strawberries, maybe. 

Happiness spreads through her like honey, slow and warm and sweet from the center of her chest where she imagines her soul is to the very tips of her fingers spread over your navel. Lily hopes that this is what the rest of her life looks like. It’s better than she would have dared to imagine for herself, not so long ago, but it feels a surer thing now that you’re here. First month’s rent and a security deposit down, painting walls and creating the backdrop of your life together. It feels like every morning could start with sunlight and flowers and strawberry-flavored kisses. 

“Can I make a proposal?” she asks. 

“Hm?” 

“I know we just got our new table.” And it hadn’t been easy, the two of you taking up nearly the entire sidewalk and needing to stop for water only to cave and phone James to bring his car. “But would you want to eat this in our room? So we can enjoy the color?” 

“Wow,” you breathe, smile audible in your voice as you lean forward to turn off the stove. Your eggs are done. “Breakfast in bed? That just does not sound appealing at all. Where would you get an idea like that?” 

“Forget it.” Lily lets go of you, making like she’s going to walk out of the kitchen. 

Your laughter follows. “Wait. Would you grab the fruit? I’m right behind you.” 

[writerslittlelibrary]

Mob!Natasha x daughter!reader headcannons

masterlist

a/n: I figured writing some headcanons was a bit less pressuring, and I enjoyed this so much! I’ll definitely be writing more headcanons in the future :)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Mob!Natasha who found you when you were just a baby. She heard crying coming out of the closet after she had just killed her target. Turns out, he had already found his next victim, you. Luckily, Natasha was just in time to save you from that horrible life and raised you herself

Mob!Natasha who raised you in the safety of her Russian home. Protected, hidden, and far away from the dangers of the world

Mob!Natasha who only allowed Melina, Alexei, and Yelena to see and know about you the first 5 years of your life

Mob!Natasha who started training you for active combat the moment you could stand, wanting you to be able to protect yourself, should you ever end up being mixed into one of her ‘jobs’

Mob!Natasha who loves you more than anything in the world, getting you whatever you want whenever you want it, yet still making sure you’re not becoming a spoiled brat

Mob!Natasha who puts her trusted bodyguard, Bucky Barnes, on any and every outing you go on. You leave the house for a walk? You better count on the fact that Bucky is coming. You want to go shopping? Don’t worry, Bucky will simply come to help you carry your bags. You want to have dinner with someone? Bucky will simply sit a few tables away from you, giving you privacy yet keeping a close eye on you

Mob!Natasha who is terrified when your existence becomes known after you and her are spotted going for a little shopping trip. She will upgrade her security everywhere, putting multiple bodyguards by your side every time you leave the house. Of course, she still trusts that Bucky is the best at keeping you safe, but just to be sure, you get a few more of her men

Mob!Natasha who sometimes allows you to sit in on her meetings, letting you sit next to her, or on the ground, whichever you prefer. It’s not like any of the people she is meeting with can say anything. That is if they want to keep their lives of course. Sometimes, if you forgot to bring something she will slide you her notepad for you to doodle on, or she’ll just stop the entire meeting and order one of her men to fetch you whatever you wish. She gets to decided how her meetings go, of course

Mob!Natasha who knows you adore her henchwomen more than anything. Your personal favourite is Natasha’s assistant, Maria. You know her and your mom have some more going on. You are not blind to the lingering touches and the sneaky looks they send each other. Of course, you are a big fan of Carol. She is just so cool and nice to you, even though she can kill someone with basically a glare. To you, she is the sweetest human on the planet

Mob!Natasha who knows you adore your aunt Yelena more than anyone on the planet. Because of that, she makes sure Yelena gets the opportunity to visit more than enough. Everytime Natasha has to leave for a slightly bigger ‘job’ she simply calls Yelena to keep you company. Natasha knows you don’t need a babysitter anymore, but she likes the idea of you not having to be lonely. Besides, it is much safer for you to be accompanied by your aunt Yelena

Mob!Natasha who knows how much you adore playing board and cards games, so she told her people to never deny you a game, were you to ask. Luckily, you mostly gravitate towards Carol and her girlfriend Valkyrie, and who were they to deny you a game? They loved your company, and they loved playing your card games with you

Mob!Natasha who, when you start dating someone, runs thousands of background checks, does hundreds of checkups throughout the day, and makes sure to give whoever you decided to date a little talk, letting them know exactly what’s waiting for them were they ever to hurt you

Mob!Natasha who had the best private tutors coming to your home to teach you everything you needed to know, giving you the highest level of eduction you’d ever need

Mob!Natasha who knows that you are financially set for life, but who still allows you to go to college if you would ever want to. Of course it would be an expensive, high security private school, but still

Mob!Natasha who takes you on the multiple holiday trips during the year. You want to go to Spain? Pack your bag because Natasha will have planned a trip next week. Obviously you both will simply take her private jet, but she needs a week to book some fancy holiday home for you two to stay at

Mob!Natasha who, despite her fortune, often books small, low budget holiday trips. Everyone knows those small holiday homes are the best and the cosiest. What kind of mother would Natasha be if she didn’t give you that experience?

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216

[a-spes]

˚ 　 ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✦ ⁺ ₊ 　 ˚ 　. ˚ . 　 ☁ . 　　. 　 ˚ 　⁺ ₊ ⁺ ✦ 𝖆-𝖘𝖕𝖊𝖘'𝖘 𝖓𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖌𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓 𝖕𝖔𝖘𝖙  ₊ . 　 ˚　. ✧ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ ˚　 . ⁺ ₊ ��� ˚　 . 　  ˚　 ⁺ ₊ ˚

₊ ⁺ ✦ ₊　 　 ☁ 　˚　 . 　⁺ ₊ ✧ ˚　　 . 　  ˚　 ˚ 　. ☁ ˚ 　. ˚ 　 ✩ ₊ ˚ . ☾ ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧   　　˚ ⁺ 　

⊱⋆ 𝔱𝔴𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔶 𝔶𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔬𝔩𝔡. 𝔰𝔥𝔢/𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔶. 𝔢𝔫𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔥 𝔦𝔰 𝔫𝔬𝔱 𝔪𝔶 𝔣𝔦𝔯𝔰𝔱 𝔩𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔲𝔞𝔤𝔢. ⋆⊰

˚　 . ⤳ 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱. ⋆ ⁺ ₊ ✧ ⤳ 𝔯𝔢𝔮𝔲𝔢𝔰𝔱 𝔤𝔲𝔦𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔰. . ☁ ˚ ⤳ 𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔨𝔰 𝔦𝔫 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔤𝔯𝔢𝔰𝔰 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔣𝔲𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔢 𝔭𝔯𝔬𝔧𝔢𝔠𝔱𝔰.  ˚ . ⤳ 𝔣𝔦𝔠𝔰 𝔯𝔢𝔠𝔬𝔪𝔪𝔢𝔫𝔡𝔞𝔱𝔦𝔬𝔫𝔰.

⤳ last update — Jan. 01, 2025.

[blanketskiess]

Hi! You may call me 🫖 anon. 

Can I request a shumika x ftm reader (closed poly established, committed relationship) fic? Maybe soft gentle smut like sickeningly sweet and aftercare. Like they just are taking care of each other and pampering each other after reader has had a really stressful and busy work week as a designer. Praise, body worship etc. My first time sending a request I’m so sorry if this is slightly vague, please take your time!

Hi there 🫖 anon! This is such an adorable idea! I hope I portrayed it how you were hoping. Let me know what you think and have a lovely day :) Also, it wasn't too vague. Don't worry at all!

⋯ ✦ characters shu itsuki & mika kagehira ⋯ ✦ tags fluff, smut, praise, body worship, stressed reader, dom!shu, dom!mika, he/him pronouns, ftm!reader ⋯ ✦ summary reader seems to have overworked themselves once again. good thing shu and mika are there to help you through your overexertion &lt;3

⋯ ✦ word count 2.4k

✧༺✦✮✦༻∞　　∞༺✦✮✦༻✧

With trembling hands, you placed down your needle. You tried to ignore the way your joints ached, the way your skin burned, and the way your eyes could barely stay open. Shu had always tried to tell you not to overwork yourself. The designer does it himself; the least he can do is tell his lovely boyfriend to avoid the mistakes he's made. "When your hands begin to feel a sense of soreness, place everything down and take some breaths into your lungs. You are talented in this craft, mon chéri, however, do not damage your precious self for it.' Those words reverberated in your head as you realized you didn't follow Shu's instructions. Yet, did you have a choice? There was a deadline for releasing this piece—a gorgeous, embroidered white blazer with gold stitchings etched around the buttons and collar. Shu had always told you that your works rivaled his own, and he wasn’t wrong.

It started to hit you all at once. Since when had the soreness in your body gotten so prominent? Since when was your vision giving out on you. No, no! You had to stay awake! You only had three days to get the piece finished! You’d be damned if you gave up now. The world came to a standstill, if for only a few moments. Your vision was clouded by your work. Your unnerving amount of work that had overtaken your entire week. God, you wanted to sleep. You really did. You closed your eyes, just for a second, perhaps to get an iota of relief. You sat there in silence, in whispers of uncertainty, and let the gears of your thoughts slowly stop turning.

“Y/N?” A familiar voice echoed through your head. Were you dreaming? You felt rather floaty in your seat. You didn’t hear the voice again, and instead, imagined yourself in your bed. Basking in the delicate sheets, reveling in the way soft cotton kisses your skin carefully. Your boyfriends, Shu and Mika, would be there with you, as they always were. Mika was adamant to never leave your side. So was Shu, but he was less physically affectionate. Even so, you imagined his skilled hand caressing your shoulder, whispering words in soft breaths against your ears. Mika would be curled up on your figure, arms and legs wrapped around you, a smile on his face. It felt so real. Almost like a hand really was on your shoulder.

“Y/N??” A familiar smooth voice cascaded its way through the room. Your eyes slowly opened, fixating on the man standing above you. His hand rested gently on your shoulder, pink locks brushed with nothing short of absolute precision. Sharp eyes pierced yours in a look that dripped disappointment. Shades of regret clouded your conscience.

“My dear, what are you doing? You have been in here for four…no, five hours now?”

You groaned, rubbing your face with both hands.

“Yeah… I’m just trying to finish this piece…It’s a pain in my ass,” you sighed.

“Your work is exquisite as always, my dear, but your well-being should be at the forefront of your priorities,” Shu softly explained, hand rubbing your shoulder in soft circles.

“I know, I just need to—“

“Non. Your work will still be here tomorrow. Come, we are going to sleep. Kagehira is already getting prepared for bed.”

You just rubbed your face once again, head falling onto the desk. “I’ll be there in a minute. Make my spot in bed warm, please.”

Shu scoffs, goes silent, and before he speaks again, you feel strong arms wrapping around your figure to lift you out of your own seat.

“Shu—“

“Shush. We are going to bed,” he whispered, fixing some of the needles on your desk so that the string didn’t get tangled. He arranged them accordingly, and flipped the switch of your lamp. You couldn’t really fight him on this, so you decided to let it happen. You closed your eyes, and after just a mere few seconds, you were already where you needed to be.

Shu placed you down on the edge of the bed. You watched as Mika exited the bathroom, smelling fresh, dressed in the pajama set Shu had sewn for him.

“Ah, there ya are!” Mika smiled, bringing you into an instant hug. He nuzzled his head against you, kissing at your cheek before sitting next to you and staring at Shu. He was so affectionate.

“Kagehira, will you help me redress him?”

You were stunned for a second, to say the least.

"'Course oshi-san!"

Yes, you were stunned. But at the same time, you weren't going to pass up an opportunity like this. You smiled, sighing softly as Shu placed his large hands at the hem of your shirt, almost as if to ask for permission. You nodded as he lifted the shirt off your body. Mika had ran off to the dresser to find your pajamas.

Shu eyed your body, watching the way your arms trembled each time you moved them.

"Your body is so exhausted, Y/N," Shu notes with concern, lifting your arm and massaging it softly. He always did this to both you and Mika. Checking your muscles, your joints and your skin. Making sure you were okay.

"I get it, I overworked myself. I'm sorry," You sighed.

"Do not let my words make you believe you owe me an apology. I am so very proud of you," Shu praised softly. You felt your skin getting warmer as his eyes scavenged your body. By the time Mika was back with the pajamas, he had laid them on the bed next to you, staring with Shu in awe.

"Oshi-san, ya been saying he's workin' so hard..." Mika began, hands landing on your stomach.

"Yes, Kagehira. He has," Shu smiles softly, planting a kiss on your forehead. You were waiting for them to grab your pajamas, but you gave up, opting to reach for them yourself. Mika's hand landed on yours before you could grab them, and he just stared at you with a soft smile. He gave Shu a knowing look, as if they were silently agreeing on something.

In mere seconds, Mika positioned himself behind you on the bed, pulling you back until your head rested on his lap in a laying position. Shu masterfully removed his belt with one hand, one knee going between your legs to hover over you on the bed.

"He's been working so hard, that perhaps he deserves a reward for it, does he not?" Shu eyes Mika with a smirk. Mika just nods, looking down at you, fingers coursing through your hair.

"Is that okay with you?" Shu asks.

"Of course, I'm just... I'm really tired, so I'm sorry if-"

"It don't matter if yer tired! In fact, that's even better! Means we get t' treat ya," Mika smiled

And god, was he right. And fuck, is that all you needed right now. They eyed you like you were the finest work of art.

"Oh, sweet boy," Shu whispers in shades of crimson against your skin.

In that moment, you swore they were experts of keeping your heart beating; without them, you were almost sure it would stop.

Mika continued to run his hands through your hair.

"He is really sweet, ain't he?" Mika asked, almost rhetorically, but they both knew the answer to that. Mika leaned over to kiss your forehead, while Shu's lips fell upon your neck. They both kissed you so softly, as if you were made of glass.

Shu's soft hands were your medication; your heartsong and your light, for his love dripped from each and every fingertip and seeped right into your very soul.

Mika hummed as Shu kissed you, reveling in the way you both looked.

"Yer so handsome, Y/N. I wish ya wouldn't overwork yerself like that..." Mika sounded almost sad, and for a moment, you felt bad. Like you had disappointed them.

"Makes me wanna work harder, just cuz yer doin' it! Yer out here inspirin' me 'n all that!"

The smile returned to your face. He was proud of you, and you knew that.

Shu finally lifted his lips from your skin, breathing out in exasperation. "If I do not stop now, I will be worshipping your skin for hours, my dear. Every part of you is nothing short of perfection; a work of art that I have been so lucky to get my hands upon. Tell me, how is it possible that someone like you has entered our lives?"

Admittedly, you were unsure of what to say. He was so sickeningly sweet, it hurt.

"Ya don't have t' answer that. Just sit there 'n look nice like ya always do!" Mika smiles, replacing his lap with a pillow as he switched positions. Shu and Mika looked at each other, silently agreeing on something once again. Shu moved behind you, sitting you upwards and pulling you into his lap. Your back rested against his clothed chest as his large arms snaked around your waist. Mika, in front of you, pulled down his sweatpants, to be left only in his boxers.

You wondered how you'd become so lucky.

Mika opened a drawer, pulling out a small package and a bottle, removing his boxers and pouring lube onto his protected length. Shu was rubbing your body the entire time, lips at the shell of your ear.

"Kagehira and I are going to take care of you. You are not to work any harder than you already have been," Shu whispered. You nodded. "Good boy."

As sunlight enters raindrops and emerge as rainbows, love enters your soul in the most delicate ways. Mika's hands land upon your hips; Shu's lips land upon your neck. Mika slowly pushed a finger towards your entrance, watching your face change expression at the feeling.

"'S okay, Y/N. Yer doin' so good. 'M so proud of ya. Just gotta prepare ya, 'kay?" Mika praised, pushing a finger in.

"Start with one, then switch to two, Kagehira. And my dear boy, tell him if it is too much, okay?" Shu's voice had never sounded more comforting. Although he wasn't in a position to do much to you, his words were enough.

It felt orgasmic, the way his long, deft fingers pushed inside of you. You clenched around them, wishing to feel them go deeper. Mika understood your urgency, curling his fingers one, twice, then pulling them out.

"Are you ready, my dear?" Shu asked softly, lips still at the shell of your ear. His hands ran up your body, fingers ghosting over your nipples.

"Mhm... Yeah... God, I'm ready..." You leaned your head back into Shu. You felt so comfortable, so warm between the two. Mika smiled down at you, length lining up with your entrance. He brought you into a kiss, gorgeous eyes staring into yours as he pushed in. Your hips almost lifted off of the bed, but Shu placed his hands on them to keep them down. To keep you grounded. They knew just how to take care of you.

You moaned softly, Mika filling you up just right. He felt so warm inside of you, like he was made for you. Mika's eyes closed. He always got so sensitive when he first went inside.

"Good boy, Kagehira," Shu praised, turning his eyes to you. "And good boy, Y/N. Your body is absolute perfection. So handsome, so angelic. It is as if you were sent here straight from the heavens, my dear." Shu couldn't help but continue to kiss your neck as Mika's thrusts sped up.

"Mnnghh... I love ya... Ya feel s-so good, Y/N! 'M so proud of ya... S-So proud..." Mika rambled, eyes closing as he fucked deeper into you. You felt a coil in your stomach slowly building up each time he bottomed out.

"These arms are immaculate," Shu praised as he lifted them, almost as if he were inspecting them. "Your shoulders, and your neck. The way your nose is shaped and the softness of your lips; all immaculate. Perfection. I love you dearly."

You tried your best to focus on Shu's words while Mika continued to thrust into you. Shu intertwined his fingers with your own, while Mika took your other hand. He squeezed it, signaling that he was close. So were you.

"I'm close! Fuckfuckfuck, I'm close..." You moaned, breath shaky from the combination of their actions. Mika's mouth hung open, eyes half lidded during eye contact. His pace sped up, urging for both of your releases.

"Nghhh! Y-You can d-do it, Y/N. Yer so good, c'mon..." Mika praised.

"You are so very good, Y/N. Come on, you deserve it now. You can do this, mon chéri."

Both of their encouragement was all you needed to send you over the edge. Goosebumps arose on your skin as the coil in your stomach came undone. The feelings of Shu's big, warm figure behind you and Mika's cock filling you crashed down onto you all at once. You put your hand over your mouth to muffle a loud moan, but Shu pulled it off.

"There you go. We want to hear you. You sound like the finest melody," Shu smiled. Mika thrusted a few more times into you before climaxing himself, laying his head down onto your chest to breathe heavily, drool dripping onto your skin.

"Good job, my boys," Shu caressed both you and Mika's heads. You didn't even feel like this was real. All you could do was lay there in a euphoric daze.

Shu was quick to raise from the bed, promising to be right back. He came back to help clean you two up, with water glasses, and new clothes. He silently dressed you as both you and Mika fought a slumber. He lifted you two into bed, so that your head was resting on Mika's chest. Shu spooned you from behind, kissing your cheek.

"Please, dear Y/N. Be more careful when you are working," Shu whispered. You could only nod, agreeing to at least try and not go past your limits.

"Mmm, but I like pamperin' ya like this! Maybe ya should work hard more often!"

Shu sighed, laughing. "Non, Kagehira! That is not how we fix this issue."

You laughed along with him. You were most certainly going to try to work less hard, but if this is how you got treated every time, was it really worth it?

[brooooswriting]

Prompt list

My first prompt list and I’m honestly not quite sure how this works. But send me a prompt and a character (you can find the characters I write for in my guidelines) :) I’m happy about request and recommendations

1. “I’m not stupid, who is s/he?

2. “I’m not flirting with anyone”

3. A: “We have a problem”

B: “no, you got a problem. I got you”

4. “If I could, I would kiss all your scars away”

5. “You’re so cute when you’re half asleep like this”

6. “I don’t want to think about what life would be like without you”

7. “Do you want to stay tonight?”

8. “I killed him and I’d gladly kill him again”

9. “Don’t panic, but I think there’s someone in our house”

10. “How bad is it?”

11. “Cmon, I’ll carry you”

12. “I can’t get up”

13. “I threw up”

14. “You’re burning love”

15. “I can protect myself”

16. “Don’t touch me! GET OFF”

17. “You look beautiful”

18. “You left me. I stayed, I waited”

19. “You have the most amazing eyes”

20. “How’d you this scar?”

21. “We have time”

22. “You can still use your legs, so don’t say that I was jealous again”

23. “If even one of them touches you again, I’ll make sure they aren’t able to ever again”

24. “I’m overreacting?”

25. “Don’t cover my bite marks, or I might just have to add more”

26. “Wow, you really thought you could trust me?”

27. “You belong to me”

28. “I dare you”

29. “You can’t restart life once you make a mistake”

30. “You should be with someone who values you”

31. “I do not like (x), I like you you idiot”

32. “(X) doesn’t understand what they’re missing”

33. “If I was your girlfriend, I’d …”

34. “Can you picture me and you together?”

35. “My grandma thinks we are dating”

36. “Can’t sleep again”

37. “It’s past midnight, why are you still up?”

38. “Let’s get you some sleeping pills”

39. “She’s not your property”

40. “There is us, there never was”

41. “Keep lying and I’m out”

42. “Is this all I was to you?”

43. “You thought this was real?”

44. “All they ever did was take advantage of you. Why can’t you see that?”

45. “Tell me a story”

46. “It’s time to move on”

47. “I’m gonna take a shower, you should join me. You know, save water”

48. “Calm down! You’re scaring me”

49. “I’m done trying to fix you”

50. “I see your face everywhere… don’t you understand that?”

51. “I wasn’t enough for you, you made that clear”

52. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake to. Go back to sleep my love”

53. “Can I borrow your hoodie?”

54. “It kills me to imagine you with somebody else”

55. “You don’t own me”

56. “Can you come and get me?”

57. “You’re freezing, let’s go inside. I don’t want you to catch a cold”

58. “I don’t want you to be disappointed”

59. “It’s cute, this thing you’re doing”

60. “You should eat something”

61. “Who did this to you?!”

62. “You look like you need a hug”

63. “I love you, but you need to shut up”

64. “They’re coming. Kiss me”

65. “I’m flirting with you”

66. “I’m just so tired all the time”

67. “Would you like to take a nap with me?”

68. “Can I braid your hair?”

69. “You’re not your past”

70. “That’s not what I meant and you know it”

71. “You can cry, there’s no shame in it”

72. “You don’t do that with me”

73. “You’re not making sense dear”

74. “You feel like home”

75. “Is s/he really just a friend?”

76. “I promise I am trying”

77. “I can fix it, I will fix it”

78. “I can’t breathe around you”

79. “Don’t give me space. That’s the last thing I want”

80. “If you were any less threatening, you’d be a dandelion”

81. “I just adore you”

82. “Did I do good?”

83. “Let’s run away then”

84. “You shouldn’t trust me”

85. “What if you get hurt?”

86. “I like to do it for the plot”

87. “You are ticklish, that’s so cute”

88. “Can you warm me? I’m freezing”

89. “If you steel the blanket I’m gonna put my cold feed on you”

90. “This is low, even for you”

91. “I promise it didn’t mean anything”

92. “How much cold medicine did you take?”

93. “Get behind me”

94. “Touch her one more time and I’m gonna kill you”

95. “I want a family… with you”

96. “You’re more than a one night stand”

97. “Say that one more time and I’ll whoop your ass”

98. “My family likes you more than they like me”

99. “Every day feels like a burden”

100. “I may be a hero but I’d end the world for you”

[mydisenchantedeulogy]

Candy Coated [Chapter Ten] Faith [Buddha]

A/n: the art was made by the lovely Somanoko of Ao3. In the last chapter, I used the colored image of this piece, but I'm in love with this version too. Please enjoy.

Warning(s): Buddha being Buddha, first kiss, conflicting emotions, teasing, character lore, Buddhism, female reader, easing into love.

Tag list: @useless-potatho , @tojibreedingme , @quinloki , @yingxian, @2lottie2, @lunas-nova , @anduinandwrathionlover, @tiredfairy, @the-queen-of-sorrows , @alientee , @lawlietliet, @hanaibea, @69your-best-night-mare69 , @bradshawwannabe

No Minors Allowed!!

From the corner of the screen, an icon of a familiar woman pops up. You raise a curious brow and eagerly click on it. 

Randgriz welcomes you with a smile but before you can greet her, she begins to speak.

"Welcome viewer. I am Randgriz, the fourth-oldest of the Valkyries. It is my pleasure to serve as your narrator during this portion of the first battle."

Oh neat. The Valkyries went all out in this tournament. You listen to Randgriz explain the narration option before she continues. 

"Let us go over the history of Humanity's representative for the first round, Lü Bu."

A window pops up in her place and shows an open sky, then pans down to a small village on a grassy plateau. Sitting bareback on a muscular horse is a child with blood on his face. 

You hum. This must be Lü Bu. Even though he is a child, he is intimidating.

"According to the records of the three kingdoms, it has been said that Lü Bu came from a Mongolian tribe," Randgriz mentions.  "However, we're yet to confirm his origin."

The door to the room comes open, pulling your attention away from the screen for a moment. You smile as Buddha walks in.

Shortly after the start of the match, he got a craving for popcorn and left to find some. Based on the pout he's wearing and the absence of popcorn, you assume he could not find any.

"No such luck, huh?" You ask. 

Buddha sighs.

"No, but Bu-chan said she would have some brought over soon." He pauses a moment to look at the screen and raises a brow.

"It's a history lesson," you state. "Do you want to watch it with me?"

Buddha yawns, obviously not interested.

"If you want a lesson, I can give you one."

You snort.

"What sort of lesson does the Buddha have for me?"

The said man grins and sits in the middle of the floor with his legs crossed, motioning for you to join him. You sit the tablet down and ease to the floor in front of him. Once you are comfortable, you give him a nod.

"It is better to conquer yourself than to win a thousand battles. Then the victory is yours. It can not be taken from you, not by angels or by demons, heaven or hell," he recites.

You raise a brow, not exactly certain what he is trying to say.

"Elaborate."

"Knowing others is wisdom, knowing yourself is enlightenment," he clarifies. 

You hum. 

"I don't think there was ever a time when I was alive that I just focused on me. Who am I? What makes me happy? I let the motion of life pull me down even though these questions were the most important aspect of me." 

"You have all the time in the world now," Buddha mentions. He rests his hands in his lap face up, a pose you recognize from statues of him. "So who are you? And what makes you happy? Aside from material things."

Material things? So he means abstract things. Raising your hand, you name some; little things in life - now death - that make you happy.

Turning your eyes to him, your face turns red as you notice the look of interest in his expression.

 "And I'm happy here…with you and Jataka. I don't want to be forced to say goodbye."

The thought of being torn away from the two of them sinks you into despair. 

"Humanity must win," you utter. 

Buddha raises his right arm and faces it outwards; the other reaches out to touch your arm. 

"Have some faith in me. I won't let you be sad."

He truly is perfect. 

Whether it is because of the tether or not, you can not ignore the sensation of fondness that devours you. Glancing at his lips, you turn your eyes to his in question, noticing the lily pattern in them. For a moment, the urge to taste him fades from your mind. 

"What does it mean when your eyes do that?" You ask.

Buddha grins.

"Bu-chan calls it 'future vision'. But it's a form of precognition."

You widen your eyes. 

"You can see into the future?"

The history books never said anything about this. You feel like years of classes meant nothing. 

Buddha laughs. 

"Only a moment.”

That is insane. But you suppose it would explain certain occurrences you have witnessed while living with him. Like the time he predicted that you would catch the can of chips that nearly fell on your head or the time he separated the jelly beans to prank Zeus.

"That's some ability,” you mention with a grin. 

It sounds almost too good to be true though, despite the proof. You sort of want to test it. And the opportunity falls into your lap with an innocent thought. 

Would he mind if I kissed him?

You are not sure what has come over you but the suggestion of concentrating just on him is what you yearn to do.

"So you can see a moment before I make a move. I'm curious. What will I do?"

Buddha widens his eyes. 

"That's valiant of you.” 

Warmth spreads to your face.

"You have no idea.”

Sitting up on your knees, you lean forward, but at the last second, you tilt your head and kiss him on the cheek. 

"I saw what you did," Buddha states with a grin.

He turns your face toward him. 

"If you want to kiss me, then do it.”

He's straightforward. But he is right.

You eagerly lean in, however, a sudden knock at the door startles you. Buddha laughs, then calls in the visitor, much to your displeasure.

A young woman with a veil over her eyes enters. She bows respectively.

"I apologize for my intrusion, Lord Buddha, but Lady Brunhilde sent me over with your request.”

Moving to the side, the woman snaps her fingers, and moments later, another woman with a cart walks in. On it is a bucket of popcorn and several other snacks and sweets. 

The woman with the veil bows again as the second woman rushes from the room. 

"She insists that you watch what is to come.”

You raise a brow in question but the young woman turns and walks away, closing the door behind her.

"I was wondering when that would make an appearance,” Buddha utters. 

"W-what do you mean?” You ask.

Despite your curious nature, you are an absolute wreck. Moments ago, you were about to kiss a God. The mortified heat on your face only intensifies. A part of you is relieved to have been interrupted, but the other is disappointed. 

"We might as well do as Bu-chan says,” Buddha utters with a sigh. 

Nodding in agreement, you shakily stand and walk over to the hanging seat to retrieve the tablet. Before you return to Buddha, you bring a bucket of popcorn back with you, sitting on the floor beside the God. He takes the device and returns the screen to the arena. 

In the meantime, you watch his reaction, unsure of how he can appear so calm after what had happened. 

"Shaka?”

The God hums but a bright light consumes the screen and draws his attention.

You lean over to look, pushing aside the question you want to ask, at least for the time being.

The halberd that Lü Bu came into the arena with is glowing intensely as he blocks Thor’s attack. How is he able to go toe to toe with the God? As he strikes one of the gloves that Thor wears, it suddenly shatters.

"How did he–”

"That is a Divine Weapon,” Buddha interrupts. 

You raise a brow. 

"Like a weapon made by the Gods?”

"Something like that,” Buddha answers. He grins. "It's the act of uniting the soul of a Human with the soul of a Valkyrie, called a Völundr. Bu-chan calls it Humanity's own cheat.”

How is this possible? 

You notice an icon pop onto the screen matching the shape of the halberd. Clicking on it, you read over the details.

"Sky Piercer. This weapon takes on the Valkyrie it possesses. In this case, the 4th Valkyrie, Radgritz, meaning shield breaker.”

Your eyes widen. 

"Radgritz? She and Lü Bu are united. But how?”

Buddha hums.

"It works by using the power of Samavadhāna, a practice I taught them.”

Is this what Brunhilde had planned? The secret meetings that she had with Buddha. 

They were always one step ahead.

"I'm sorry,” you utter, averting your eyes to the floor. "I doubted you and Bu-chan. But I won't ever do it again.” 

Buddha laughs. 

"It's in the hands of the fighters now, but she will be pleased to hear that.”

He lifts your face toward him.

"Like I said, have faith in me.”

Leaning in, he presses his lips against yours, tenderly. You eagerly return the kiss, but strangely your body is at ease. No anxiety, no agitation. Not at all what you were expecting, albeit this is incredible.  

I feel…calm. 

Is this good or bad?