#yes I could write a new sentence but then the flow isn’t the same

[sorrygotthesesacks]

You don’t understand. These em dashes add texture to the sentence. They’re necessary.

[nasa]

NASA Spotlight: Astronaut Mike Hopkins

Michael S. Hopkins was selected by NASA as an astronaut in 2009. The Missouri native is currently the Crew-1 mission commander for NASA’s next SpaceX launch to the International Space Station on Nov. 14, 2020. Hopkin’s Crew-1 mission will mark the first-ever crew rotation flight of a U.S. commercial spacecraft with astronauts on board, and it secures the U.S.’s ability to launch humans into space from American soil once again.  Previously, Hopkins was member of the Expedition 37/38 crew and has logged 166 days in space. During his stay aboard the station, he conducted two spacewalks totaling 12 hours and 58 minutes to change out a degraded pump module. He holds a Bachelor of Science in Aerospace Engineering from the University of Illinois and a Master of Science in Aerospace Engineering. 

He took some time from being a NASA astronaut to answer questions about his life and career! Enjoy:

What do you hope people think about when you launch?

I hope people are thinking about the fact that we’re starting a new era in human spaceflight. We’re re-opening human launch capability to U.S. soil again, but it’s not just that. We’re opening low-Earth orbit and the International Space Station with commercial companies. It’s a lot different than what we’ve done in the past. I hope people realize this isn’t just another launch – this is something a lot bigger. Hopefully it’s setting the stage, one of those first steps to getting us to the Moon and on to Mars.

You served in the U.S. Air Force as a flight test engineer. What does that entail?

First off, just like being an astronaut, it involves a lot of training when you first get started. I went to the U.S. Air Force Test Pilot School and spent a year in training and just learning how to be a flight test engineer. It was one of the most challenging years I’ve ever had, but also one of the more rewarding years. What it means afterwards is, you are basically testing new vehicles or new systems that are going on aircraft. You are testing them before they get handed over to the operational fleet and squadrons. You want to make sure that these capabilities are safe, and that they meet requirements. As a flight test engineer, I would help design the test. I would then get the opportunity to go and fly and execute the test and collect the data, then do the analysis, then write the final reports and give those conclusions on whether this particular vehicle or system was ready to go.

What is one piece of life advice you wish somebody had told you when you were younger? 

A common theme for me is to just have patience. Enjoy the ride along the way. I think I tend to be pretty high intensity on things and looking back, I think things happen when they’re supposed to happen, and sometimes that doesn’t necessarily agree with when you think it should happen. So for me, someone saying, “Just be patient Mike, it’s all going to happen when it’s supposed to,” would be really good advice.

Is there a particular science experiment you enjoyed working on the most while aboard the space station?

There’s a lot of experiments I had the opportunity to participate in, but the ones in particular I liked were ones where I got to interact directly with the folks that designed the experiment. One thing I enjoyed was a fluid experiment called Capillary Flow Experiment, or CFE. I got to work directly with the principal investigators on the ground as I executed that experiment. What made it nice was getting to hear their excitement as you were letting them know what was happening in real time and getting to hear their voices as they got excited about the results. It’s just a lot of fun.

Space is a risky business. Why do it?

I think most of us when we think about whatever it is we do, we don’t think of it in those terms. Space is risky, yes, but there’s a lot of other risky jobs out there. Whether it’s in the military, farming, jobs that involve heavy machinery or dangerous equipment… there’s all kinds of jobs that entail risk. Why do it? You do it because it appeals to you. You do it because it’s what gets you excited. It just feels right. We all have to go through a point in our lives where we figure out what we want to do and what we want to be. Sometimes we have to make decisions based on factors that maybe wouldn’t lead you down that choice if you had everything that you wanted, but in this particular case for me, it’s exactly where I want to be. From a risk standpoint, I don’t think of it in those terms.

Can you describe your crew mate Soichi Noguchi in one sentence?

There are many facets to Soichi Noguchi. I’m thinking about the movie Shrek. He has many layers! He’s very talented. He’s very well-thought. He’s very funny. He’s very caring. He’s very sensitive to other people’s needs and desires. He’s a dedicated family man. I could go on and on and on… so maybe like an onion – full of layers!

Star Trek or Star Wars?

I love them both. But can I say Firefly? There’s a TV series out there called Firefly. It lasted one season – kind of a space cowboy-type show. They did have a movie, Serenity, that was made as well. But anyway, I love both Star Wars and Star Trek. We’ve really enjoyed The Mandalorian. I mean who doesn’t love Baby Yoda right? It’s all fun.

How many times did you apply to be an astronaut? Did you learn anything on your last attempt? 

I tried four times over the course of 13 years. My first three attempts, I didn’t even have references checked or interviews or anything. Remember what we talked about earlier, about patience? For my fourth attempt, the fact is, it happened when it was supposed to happen. I didn’t realize it at the time. I would have loved to have been picked on my first attempt like anybody would think, but at the same time, because I didn’t get picked right away, my family had some amazing experiences throughout my Air Force career. That includes living in Canada, living overseas in Italy, and having an opportunity to work at the Pentagon. All of those helped shape me and grow my experience in ways that I think helped me be a better astronaut.

Can you share your favorite photo or video that you took in space?

One of my favorite pictures was a picture inside the station at night when all of the lights were out. You can see the glow of all of the little LEDs and computers and things that stay on even when you turn off the overhead lights. You see this glow on station. It’s really one of my favorite times because the picture doesn’t capture it all. I wish you could hear it as well. I like to think of the station in some sense as being alive. It’s at that time of night when everybody else is in their crew quarters in bed and the lights are out that you feel it. You feel the rhythm, you feel the heartbeat of the station, you see it in the glow of those lights – that heartbeat is what’s keeping you alive while you’re up there. That picture goes a small way of trying to capture that, but I think it’s a special time from up there.

What personal items did you decide to pack for launch and why? 

My wedding bands. I’m also taking up pilot wings for my son. He wants to be a pilot so if he succeeds with that, I’ll be able to give him his pilot wings. Last time, I took one of the Purple Hearts of a very close friend. He was a Marine in World War II who earned it after his service in the Pacific.

Thank you for your time, Mike, and good luck on your historic mission! Get to know a bit more about Mike and his Crew-1 crew mates Victor Glover, Soichi Noguchi, and Shannon Walker in the video above.

Watch LIVE launch coverage beginning at 3:30 p.m. EST on Nov. 14 HERE. 

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com 

[dumbfuck-mojave]

First Dates and A n x i e t y

(Some lines of dialogue in this are from this prompt post by @screnwriter, go have a look there’s a lot of good ones!!) 

Franchise: Scream

Pairing: Dewey Riley x Reader

Also Featured: Mentions of Sidney, Randy, Tatum, Billy and Stu. Maureen Prescott mention. 

Warnings: A very VERY obscure spoiler for Scream (2022), you probably won’t even notice it if you don’t know what I’m talking about by the time you’ve read through but I know some people don’t like wondering or realizing they got spoiled over some little detail so tread cautiously. Mentions of the events from the first Scream, survivor’s guilt and the grieving process. This is also hella awkward lol. Like one or two swears, mentions of vomit in one sentence. Reader and Dewey are on a diner date so food. Reader is Dewey’s age but nothing else is specified. 

A/N: Just to clarify, I tried very hard not to romanticize grief or the healing process in this. It’s an extremely hard thing to go through, and someone saying they love you isn’t going to magically fix it. I was trying to figure out how to not make this pro-cop but make it pro-Dewey. Cops scare the absolute fuck out of me but I trust Dewey with my life. I found him super hard to write for some reason, but I still like how this ending turned out. He’s my darling man 💖💖. I do the ~ shit in every fic of mine I think I’m making it my brand.

Word Count: 1,761

@novatheghostfaceapologist @thirsting4slashers​ gotta make sure to tag the Scream besties officially got a clique going

“Are you, um, are you having a good time?”

“Yes, Dewey. I am.”

“If you’re uncomfortable, you can tell me.” 

“Dewey.” You sighed, putting down your hamburger so you could grasp his hands, “You can never make me uncomfortable, ok? So stop thinking like that.” 

“If you say so-” Dewey looked away for a moment, then back towards you. He barely got his lips parted before you spoke up and beat him to it. 

“I’m sure. I’m unequivocally, definitely, certainly sure. Let’s go back to enjoying our meal.” You caught his eye and shot him a small smile, just to be sure he knew you weren’t actually mad or upset. 

The little diner was quiet, the few other customers than Dewey and yourself were scattered intermittently through the brightly colored room. A radio news station flowed softly from the overhead sound system, pairing with the soft conversations from patrons and the occasional clanging of dishes to make a cozy and welcoming atmosphere. But the most comforting part of everything was the man who sat in front of you, you just wished he could see it. 

You and Dewey had been vaguely familiar with each other your whole lives, having been in the same grade during school. After you had graduated and Dewey became a cop, you had only seen him a handful of times, not trying to agitate or get in trouble with the law. He was always so passionate and helpful, you weren’t surprised he chose that career path in your small, sleepy town. Everything was fine, you gave him a wave in the fleeting moments you saw him, feeling fuzziness in your chest as he would give you a wide smile in return. 

Everything was fine, everything was fine until it wasn’t. 

The news of Maureen’s death was a shockwave. Stuff like that didn’t happen in Woodsboro and the authorities had been left scrambling to calm the aftermath of the shell-shocking news. It was a new thing for everyone and the bruises and scars were still prominent in the town as time moved on. You remembered the day Dewey had come in to question you, Maureen having been a frequent at the store you worked at. He was fumbling and tinted red throughout the entire process and half of your energy had been spent trying to relax him. The other half was spent trying to relax yourself for being this close to him, alone, for the first time in years.

Inappropriate? Maybe. But it was all over and done with now.

 Then, you know, Ghostface. 

It was on a whole other level. Your heart already ached for Sidney enough when her mother died, but having your classmates and best friend brutally murdered by your boyfriend and other friend barely a year after was enough to break somebody and you tried to keep a close eye on her while still staying in your proper place. Tatum was a sweetheart, routinely coming in after school, Sidney and sometimes Randy in tow, and would spend hours looking through all the inventory. You worked at one of the fancier stores in town, a fashion boutique with a name most of the customers couldn’t pronounce. 

The store felt a little less lively now. 

Your heart hurt for Dewey too. He adored Tatum and Tatum adored him, no matter how much she poked fun in a way only siblings can. Dewey’s natural sunshine went away that day, overcast by clouds of grief and guilt for something he didn’t need to blame himself for. That was the first time you fully reached out since graduation day, not being forceful but just offering up a safe space to talk, and he accepted.

 You felt a little nervous getting close to him this way, in such a horrific circumstance, but the feeling of old nostalgia held a strong grip on you as you helped Dewey the best you could. He even, at one time, admitted shyly to you that he had been wanting to talk again for ages but could never find the words. After that, you became more clear with your concerns, hoping he would understand and not take offense or be upset. Of course, being the gentle and sweet man he was, assured you he wasn’t upset and understood you. A new form of conversation opened.

Which is why you felt comfortable saying yes when the Deputy of Woodsboro asked you out early one morning, quietly as you poured him a cup of coffee. 

“These fries are really good, I’ve never tried them in this style before.” Dewey spoke up, holding a seasoned crisp in the air for emphasis. 

“Aren’t they? I used to come here all the time when I was younger, the recipe has barely changed. I would even say they’ve improved them.” You cheekily winked at Dewey, and he chuckled. 

“I’m glad you recommended this place, I’m not so good with choosing things.” You could see him cringe then, looking away, “It’s starting to seem like I’m not good at dates in general.”

Your brow furrowed, “You’re doing just fine, Dewey. Just let it go, don’t worry, I’m not going to judge you or anything. I already know you and I already like you, you can’t change my mind with one date.”

You were hoping you would get a smile out of him with that, but you didn’t. You were struggling to, not wanting to say the wrong thing or act a certain way despite just telling Dewey to not worry about doing so. Just two awkward people, sitting in a diner, but it somehow didn’t feel awkward. You were broken out of your thoughts when you felt a warm hand settle on your own. 

“I’m scared.”

That…wasn’t what you were expecting, for some reason. 

“Why are you scared?”

Dewey inhaled deeply, then let out a sigh. The sigh of a broken man, and your frown deepened as the lines of his forehead did. 

“I’m scared of the future. I’m scared of who I’m going to lose next. I barely survived this one, what if it happens again? What if I lose you? Or Sidney or Randy? They’re just starting out in life, they haven’t even graduated yet, they shouldn’t have needed to go through this. I’m worried about me. I don’t want to be stuck being useless in some town not able to solve murders and watching more people die. I can’t focus on the present because I’m too worried about the future.”

He stammered to a stop, becoming aware of how loud he had gotten. His gaze darted around the room nervously. You took his face in your hands, watching how he relaxed from your warm touch immediately. 

“You’re... so brave, Dewey. I know it’s hard to not overthink past actions and mistakes, but what’s important is that you did your best. You always do your best, and I love you for it. I know I can’t make it all better, it won’t go away just like that, but I’m going to be there for you. You aren’t alone, there’s so many people who care and have so much respect for you. You’re amazing, you show me that every moment of every day. You’re strong and you can get through this, I know you can. There’s going to be bad days, bad weeks, but you have people you can rely on. You’re not a burden, you’re not useless, you’re Dewey Riley. Dewey Riley is incredible, he’s sweet and he’s helpful and he’s the man I’ve been in love with since 7th grade. So, please don’t think you’re nothing short of spectacular, or at least talk to someone about it. You don’t have to hold it in.” 

Dewey’s eyes welled with tears and he nodded. 

“I don’t know what else to say, but thank you.”

“You don’t need to say anything else.”

“We’re going to do this together?”

“Together, I’ll be with you until the stars fall and the tides disappear, you’re the one for me.”

You got your smile with that. 

“That was awfully poetic.”

You blushed, “I wrote a lot of poetry in 7th grade.”

“Ok, I definitely need to see that now.”

“No, you absolutely do not.”

“But I dooo~.” He cooed at you in a sing-song voice, and you thought you could never feel softer for this man. So light. So warm. 

Dewey moved a little towards the opening of the booth. 

“Can… I come sit next to you?” 

You giggled, moving further into the seat, “Of course, Deputy Riley. It would be my pleasure.”

Dewey smiled as he stood up, tumbling a bit before he caught himself. He must’ve seen you jump out of the corner of his eye because he was quick to reassure you.

“Don’t worry, kind of still getting used to the nerve damage, you know?”

He laughed and despite the unusual circumstances, you laughed too. 

He plopped down into the seat beside you, pulling over his almost empty basket as you scooted just a bit closer to him, so your arms were side by side. 

“So, I, uh, I heard Sidney and Randy stopped by looking for some clothes for graduation pictures.”

“Oh, yeah!” You perked up at that, but still made sure to replace your arms touching with your thigh pressed against his, “It was really good to see them. They were in there for a bit, Randy kept looking at bowties so we know what to expect from him at least.”

You both chuckled.

“That’s not bad. Nothing will ever top our graduation ceremony, I think.”

“Oh? The one where I fell on my ass going across the stage, the one where Robby Sinclair vomited right in front of that old lady in the first row because he was already so blasted from pre-gaming? The one where your shoe fell off as you were going down the stairs?”

As you recalled more and more things about that momentous day, Dewey stayed silent, staring at you fondly. 

“That is, in fact, the one I’m referring to.”

“Listen, I’m not saying we were the best class that school has ever had, but we were the best class that school has ever had. Go Panthers, am I right?”

“Go Panthers.”

“Do you remember that one time when-”

“You don’t mind if I kiss you, do you?”

You halt with a screech after that, looking over at him with wide eyes. But once your eyes meet his own, fond and warm like melted chocolate, you sigh and smile. 

“No, no. I don’t think I do.” 

[anathemafiction]

Point of Situation

Hello! It feels like it's been an eternity, so much has happened since my last progress report. And by so much has happened, I mean, The Rose has progressed so far since then. 

I sent the game with the new ending to my sister, and I wish I could share her reaction. She loved it so much more! Her texts made me so, so happy! 😄

Playtesting is done! I don't really have anything else I want to check out, my list of paths and choices I wanted to read is all crossed out and has been throw in the trash. What playtesting has made me realize, however, besides some lacking paths and choices here and there, is that there are A LOT of things I'm unhappy with - especially in the first 3 chapters. 

Things like page_breaks in the wrong places, and dialogues not quite fitting the characters - Alessa, specifically, has this problem. When I first wrote chapter one, so long ago, I didn't have the grasp of her character that I do now. Things like weak sentences - my English and my writing, in general, were so much worst back then. Things like confusing descriptions. 

I wasn't joking when I said that I can't look at the demo - I'm half tempted to take it down, that's how bad it is. I'll try to figure out a way to upload a new, shinier version but then that version would stop where I want the public demo for when the game is released to stop - at the end of chapter 3.

Playing this game, again and again, made me realize that I need to do an in-depth edit of the entire game. As in, reading the code while I play that section at the same time, to improve not only for the writing but also the flow of the pages and the choices. 

So, that's what I've been doing! I'm already in Chapter 3, and OOF, these first 3 chapters are by far, the ones that needed the most work. Chapter one, especially, is running so much smoother now, without those awkward and unnecessary page_breaks everywhere. Chapter 2 also had a big overhaul and I just found an error in chapter 3 that neither I nor any of my beta testers caught!! 

I'm going through the whole game with a razor-thin comb, and honestly, it's been surprisingly fun! I'm reading conversations and scenes that I wrote almost 2 years ago and while yes, the writing isn't the best, it's fun to look back at it. But, most importantly, I'm making the game worth it for people to actually pay money to!  

So, another checkpoint has been crossed! But, alas, it was not the last because I'm adding another. The final one:

Finish the second draft of chapter 8 and the new Epilogue.

Write all the suggestions/expansion of choices from my beta testers.

Put it all into code.

Do one week of extensive playtesting.

Do a deep edit of the entire game.

How long will this take? I have no idea. As I said, I'm editing chapter 3 - the first of the chapters to get to 100k words - so that means I've gone through 5 out of 23 files. I don't have a date to give, and I realize I should stop trying to give dates - but it's also worth noting that the other chapters won't give me as much work as the first three. I'm pretty sure I won't be making any substantial changes to chapters 6, 7, and 8, for example.

This might come as bad news to some, but I can assure you it's really not! This has been something I've been putting off because I dreaded the amount of work, but I can't put it off anymore. I have to do this. And now, I want to do it. 😄

I hope your week was great, and may you find rest on the weekend. 🌹

[writingquestionsanswered]

I don't know how exactly I should ask this question I don't know to exactly explain it but I'll try I hope you understand what I'm trying to ask

Every time I finish a paragraph of the story chapter I honestly have no idea how to start the next paragraph like I'm writing the first person pov so the next paragraph mostly starts with 'I' which doesn't feel like it's giving a flow in the writing and even the reader isn't getting a flow in reading, what can I do about that? how can I not start the next lines or paragraphs with 'I' and how the next paragraph should start? I sometimes know how the next paragraph should start and sometimes don't I know it's on the writer how it should start but still it would be great if you could put some light on it

Always Starting Paragraphs with Pronouns or Names

(And How Exposition Can Help)

When writing in first-person especially, it can be easy to fall into the trap of not writing a story but a laundry list of actions: I walked to the window, I looked outside, I wondered where Harry was. I went to the kitchen. I fixed myself a cup of coffee. It can also be an issue when writing in third-person, too, except you’re starting with another pronoun or a character’s name instead of “I.” So, we’re going to look at how you can avoid that, but first, let’s do a quick refresher about paragraphs.

Newer writers (and even more experienced writers) often struggle with when to start a new paragraph. I see a lot of paragraphs that are split when they shouldn’t be, or paragraphs that aren’t split but should be. 

When to Start a New Paragraph:

when changing to a new speaker

when another character does an important action*

when changing locations (new room, inside to outside, new place, etc.)

when time passes

when changing to a new subject, thought, or topic

when necessary for dramatic effect (but use very sparingly)

when moving from action/cause, to thought, to speech

when an action beat goes on longer than immediately pertinent action

How to Add Variety to Your Paragraphs

Stories need to have a balance of action, exposition, and dialogue. As I said at the begging, when you find yourself starting with “I” or “[name]” a lot, it’s because you’re focusing so heavily on actions that it just becomes a list of things someone is doing. What’s missing is the exposition and dialogue. Let’s look at my example again:

I walked to the window, I looked outside, I wondered where Harry was. I went to the kitchen. I fixed myself a cup of coffee.

Let’s see what happens if I add some exposition:

By mid-afternoon, Harry still hadn’t called or texted. I walked to the window and looked outside, wondering where on earth he could be. With nothing else to do while I waited to hear from him, I went to the kitchen and fixed myself a cup of coffee.

That’s already so much better. It transforms the laundry list of actions into an actual story because now there’s something happening to frame these actions. The character is worried about Harry.

Adding Description

Exposition is about more than giving context, though. It’s also adding visual description, sensory description, and emotional description. So, let’s see what happens if we add that to the paragraph:

By mid-afternoon, Harry still hadn’t called or texted, and my gut roiled with worry. I walked to the window and looked outside. The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains, a sight I was accustomed to seeing during our evening walks--but not today. Wondering where on earth Harry could be, and with nothing else to do but fret while I waited, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a steaming cup of coffee. Its sweet, nutty scent put my nerves at ease, but I couldn’t help taking another look at my messages.

Isn’t this so much better? Now we get a sense for what the character is feeling and we get a better idea of the time, and can almost feel ourselves there. What happens if we add dialogue?

By mid-afternoon, Harry still hadn’t called or texted, and my gut roiled with worry. Where on earth was he? Had the exams run over? Did he fink out on them and hideout all day like last time? I walked to the window and looked outside. The sun was starting to sink behind the mountains, a sight I was accustomed to seeing during our evening walks--but not today. With nothing else to do but fret while I waited, I went to the kitchen and poured myself a steaming cup of coffee. Its sweet, nutty scent put my nerves at ease, but I couldn’t help taking another look at my messages. There was a new text from Sally asking if we had plans for the night, so I replied, asking if she was up for a call. Relief flooded through me when she said she was.

“Hey, everything okay?” Sally asked, picking up immediately.

“I’m not sure. Did you see Harry on campus today?” I bit my lower lip, willing her to say that she had.

“Yeah. He stopped at Melinda’s coffee cart on his way into his first exam. Why?”

I let out a breath, already feeling reassured. “He’s not back yet, so I panicked.”

Sally laughed, and somehow that made me feel even better. “You thought he skipped out on them again, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” I admitted, feeling sheepish now. “Silly of me, right?”

“It is, we both know it is, but I get it. It would have crossed my mind, too. If it makes you feel any better, though, Sara and Jason aren’t back yet, either, and they were taking the same bio exam. It must have just run over.”

“That does make me feel better, actually. So, what did you have in mind for tonight?”

Now, by adding exposition and dialogue, this laundry list of actions has been transformed into an engaging, informative scene.

And, if you still find yourself struggling a little with using pronouns or names more than you want to, another thing you can try (which shouldn’t be hard if you’ve added enough exposition) is just changing things around a bit. A big part of what we do as writers is simply rearranging words so they sound better.

Let’s look at the following sentence:

I let out a breath, already feeling reassured. “He’s not back yet, so I panicked.”

If I didn’t want to begin with “I” here, there are plenty of ways I could change the sentence up:

Letting out a breath, I already felt reassured. “He’s not back yet, so I panicked.”

Reassured at last, I let out a breath. “He’s not back yet, so I panicked.”

“He’s not back yet, so I panicked,” I said, letting out a breath and already feeling reassured.

“He’s not back yet, so I panicked.” I already felt reassured, so I let out a breath.

Sometimes you just have to sit and play with a sentence for a little while, look at the different incarnations, judge how they look in context with surrounding sentences, and choose the best one. But, again, having that exposition in there in the first place is absolutely vital.

I hope that helps! :)

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[seriouslysnape]

Hi!❣️ Your writing is pretty cool, and I love the way you portray Sev, especially!

If it isn't a bother, of course... Could I make a request? Where Snape and the Reader are expecting, and go through all the nine months (like, through things like cravings, mood swings Snaddy has to endure, buying the child's stuff and decorating the room, all of that), till delivery? Only if you'd like the 'prompt', of course.

Wish you a nice day☺️

I LOVE THISSSSSS. YES DAD SEV >>>

__

Paternal Figure

Severus Snape x Fem. Reader

Warnings: Language, Emetephobia, Sexual implications.

Word Count: 5,161

“We’re going to be one happy family.”

__

“How much longer?” Severus questioned, eyeing the pregnancy test that was lying face down on the bathroom counter.

You looked at your wrist watch that was secured on your trembling hand. You saw that it had been more than enough time for the pregnancy test to do its job. A quivering sigh flowed from your chest as you reached for the test with trembling fingers.

“It should be ready.” You replied.

Severus sat up straighter from where he sat on the bathroom floor, his blood pumping with eagerness and nervousness. You held the test to your chest for a second with your eyes closed and head lulled towards the ceiling.

You and Severus wanted a baby badly. After being married for a few years, the baby fever was becoming harder to resist between the two of you combined. It started out as a casual thing. Severus first briefly mentioned how there was still an empty room in the house that needed to be occupied. You assumed that he meant as an office space or maybe even a large walk in closet.

But when Severus suggested that the two of you turn that space into a nursery, you knew what he was implying. You had always wanted to have kids with Sev. In the beginning, Severus wasn’t totally sure how he felt about having a baby. He wasn’t great with younger people, and he was always afraid he wouldn’t be a good dad.

However, the longer the two of you were together and the more life you shared together, the more he wanted nothing more than to put a baby in you. He wanted to raise a child and teach it all the wonders of the wizarding world. He wanted your baby to be perfect.

The two of you sat and chatted for a long time about it, not wanting to rush into things. It was a huge deal after all; bringing a human into the world was a life changing ordeal. You talked it over, and you both happily agreed that you would start trying for a baby.

You admittedly became a little obsessed with getting pregnant in the first few months. You tracked your menstrual and ovulation cycles much more than usual, eventually memorizing everything down to the minute. You tried any wizard (and even a few Muggle) tricks in the book to increase your chances of conceiving, including basically pouncing on Severus any chance he was around.

If you had a free minute to spare, you were shoving him into bed and having sex with him. At first, Severus found it rather endearing that you were so excited to have a kid, but he became concerned as time went on. Getting pregnant isn’t always a quick process. Some women can so much as look at their husband and get results while some spend a better half of their life trying to even get a positive pregnancy test.

You were proving to be one of the harder cases.

With each negative pregnancy test, the more frantic you became. You felt like your fertility window was closing in on you rapidly, and if you didn’t get pregnant soon, it’d be too late. The first few negatives didn’t phase you much, but by the fifth or sixth, you were feeling discouraged. Severus was much more patient than you during all of this, holding you flush to him when you burst into tears of frustration.

It had become a monotonous and vicious cycle. You’d try to get pregnant, buy a pregnancy test, get a negative result, and fall into a weeping heap onto the bathroom floor. After one particularly hard let down, Severus stepped in. He was rocking your sobbing frame in his arms, hushing you and comforting you as best he could.

He suggested that the two of you take a break for a while, and that maybe you were trying too hard. The stress couldn’t have been good for you as a whole, and maybe taking a more casual approach would be best.

“Here’s what I’m thinking, my love. You and I take this step by step. We continue life as normal,” He said softly; “If you get pregnant then that’s good, and if you don’t, then we remain calm and try again. If much longer goes by, then we can go see your doctor.”

You nodded into his chest with heartbreaking sobs, agreeing that this had taken a huge toll on your body. You apologized for your crazy behavior, but Severus only gave a light laugh and kissed your head.

“No, no, my dear. Don’t be sorry. I want this just as much as you do.” He consoled, sweeping you off of the floor.

You were a bit apprehensive about Severus’ approach to this, but you were willing to try anything. Fast forward a few weeks later, and this was the first test you had taken since taking Severus’ advice.

“Sev...” You croaked out; “What if it’s negative?”

You were sitting against the door in your tiny bathroom, Severus sitting on the wall across from you. Your knees were almost touching one another’s as he replied.

“Then we accept it, take a few days, and try again. It’ll be alright, [Y/N].” He reassured, resting a hand on your knee in a loving way.

You exhaled deeply, already half expecting to be disappointed. You nodded, and quickly flipped the test so you could read it. Your heart hit your feet and bounced back into your ribcage at the sight. You were stoically silent as you stared in silence at the test.

Severus was watching with a clenched jaw, prepared to comfort you in case it wasn’t what you wanted to see. You kept looking at it for a few more seconds to make sure you weren’t dreaming. The double pink lines were as clear as day.

You were pregnant.

Tears filled your eyes, but they were tears of happiness. You turned the test so he could see it.

“It’s positive,” You said, smiling through the tears streaming your face; “We’re going to have a baby.”

Severus’ jaw fell open and stars of delight shot over his eyes. He himself gazed down at the test as if it would explode right in his hands.

“You’re pregnant...” He breathed out.

You nodded, wiping away at the tears with a genuine laugh. A blinding smile appeared on Severus’ face as he moved to pull you into a tight embrace. A few tears leaked from his eyes as well, the two of you mumbling “I love yous” to each other as you cried out the adrenaline and undeniably glee that you were feeling. It had almost been a year since you started trying, and now it seemed that it had paid off.

You were going to be parents.

__

The first trimester of your pregnancy was less than pleasant. While you were eternally grateful to be carrying your first child, you weren’t too thrilled about the symptoms that came with it. You were violently sick for the first few weeks, basically bringing back up anything you tried to hold down. Even something as mild as pumpkin juice was enough to make you sick just from the smell.

As disgusting as it was, Severus was by your side any time you fell ill.

“It’s okay, darling. Let it all out.” He soothed, rubbing circles onto your back as you let out another hurl.

You seemingly puked up everything you had eaten in the last ten years into the toilet bowl, a new groan escaping your chest every time you had a chance to take a breath. Severus kept your hair out of your face as best as he could, trying not to visibly grimace every time you threw up.

You closed the lid of the toilet for a minute, draping your arm over the top of it and resting your forehead on the heated skin of your forearm.

“Don’t look at me. I don’t want you to see me like this.” You grumbled miserably.

He gave a chuckle, and even though you couldn’t see it, he raised his left hand to reveal his silver wedding ring.

“In sickness and in health.” He said, wrapping his long legs around your from behind, resting his head on your back.

“I think this is an exception to that vow.” You joked, hoping that the relief you were feeling was to signal the end of today’s sickness.

Severus hummed.

“I think that this is exactly what it was referring to,” He corrected, his heart fluttering when you lifted your head with a weak smile; “Just as beautiful as ever.”

You snorted at that, but you were heartwarmed.

“How did I ever deserve you?” You asked, falling into his open arms.

“I could ask you the same thing.”

When you were actually able to have an appetite, you wanted any and every food imaginable. The pregnancy cravings were insanely hard to ignore, and it was even harder to ignore the weird things you craved.

“What...is that?” Severus questioned cautiously as he entered the kitchen, catching you in the middle of biting something he couldn’t even discern.

You looked at him with wide eyes and stopped mid-chomp. You didn’t respond, not even sure how to explain this to him. His gaze averted to the open pantry, and saw that mostly everything had been raided and placed on the kitchen counter. He had noticed that satisfying your cravings had proven to be the most difficult thus far. He inspected the food item in your hand and his stomach lurched when he realized what it was.

“Is that a treacle tart with...” He trailed off, barely able to finish the thought.

You finished his sentence, rather ashamed.

“...pickles.” You confessed.

Severus was sure that his face had turned a nasty shade of green at the thought of your concoction. He shuddered and made you put it down. You had always been creative and experimental in the kitchen, but this was too far.

“Okay, I’ve been supportive of every strange food combination you’ve come up with, but I draw the line at treacle pickle tarts.” He said with a voice full of amusement.

You whined.

“I know it’s weird, but I can’t help it. Everything we have sounds good.”

He scratched the back of his head. He never liked to tell you how to live your life, but there was no way that this was good for you or the baby.

“I don’t think Little One is going to appreciate pickles and desserts.” He noted, placing a hand on your very small baby bump.

“Little One” was the nickname that he had coined for your developing child. You and Severus had decided early on that you wanted to keep the baby’s gender a surprise up until delivery. Severus hated to keep referring to the baby as...well, “the baby”. So he had instinctively come up with all kinds of nicknames along the way.

“Well, I’m pretty sure that Little One is the only reason I want pickles.” You snapped back.

“It’s not the pickles. It’s the pickles with the tart that I can’t stomach.” Severus explained.

You sneered at him, but Severus continued before you could snark back at him.

“I’ll tell you what, princess. How about we whip up a bunch of your favorite foods, and we’ll have a nice dinner together?” He offered.

Your belly grumbled at the sound of that. You nodded in agreement, and you and Severus prepared a heavenly meal.

On top of the all day morning sickness and the nauseating cravings, your hormones were going absolutely nuts. You had never experienced such frequent mood changes like this, and poor Severus was the victim of all your emotional outbursts. It seemed as if you were blowing up at the smallest of details.

“Damn it, Sev. How many times have I told you not to leave your socks on the floor?” You hissed, angrily picking up his dirty socks.

Severus poked his head out of the bathroom that was adjoined to your bedroom, a guilty look on his face.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize I left them there.” He said truthfully.

“Just like how you didn’t realize that you left the sink faucet dripping or how you forgot to put the pillows back on the bed when you got up at 10 in the morning?” You mocked, throwing his socks into his laundry basket.

He caught how aggravated you were, and exited the bathroom to talk things over. Severus didn’t want you to be upset with him, but he knew you were just going through a lot of changes and couldn’t really control your emotions well.

“I assure you that I didn’t do those things on purpose,” He said, not even an ounce of irritation in his voice; “I’ll pick up after myself.”

His light and friendly tone made you realize that you had overreacted once again. Severus had not once lost his temper with you, no matter how bad you had nagged him. Your shoulders slumped and you looked at your feet that were close to being covered by your steadily growing bump.

You felt bad for being on his ass about something 24/7. He was trying his best to help you and make your pregnancy as comfortable as possible. You yelling at him all the time wasn’t fair to him.

“I’m sorry, Sev. It’s not you.” You uttered for the hundredth time in the last three months.

He only smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Not to worry, my dear,” He mewled; “I can handle being screamed at for as long as it takes.”

__

The second trimester was actually easier than the first as far as symptoms goes. Your morning sickness had subsided, you had adapted to your ever changing hormones, and you weren’t tempted to eat everything in sight. While the symptoms were still there, they didn’t completely dictate your life.

You and Severus were well into the finer intricacies of planning for the arrival of your baby boy or girl. You were in the process of converting your extra bedroom into a nursery, which was a challenge for Severus. He was a shitty interior decorator, which wouldn’t be an issue if he hadn’t insisted that he decorate the baby’s room.

Severus wanted to be as involved as possible, never wanting you to think that he wasn’t there for you. You were ecstatic with the idea of him taking charge of the nursery, but you soon realized that wasn’t a good idea.

“We are not painting the baby’s room BLACK, Severus.” You protested, eyeing the cans of black paint on the floor.

Severus had gone out and bought all kinds of paint supplies. Paintbrushes, paint rollers, stencils, tape, etc. He was adamant about doing it all by hand (as opposed to using magic; a suggestion that he was horribly offended at), and had taken it upon himself to buy everything.

You had forgotten that there wasn’t much color interest in the world of Severus Snape.

“And why not? There’s black in other parts of the house.” He argued.

You put your hands on your hips, your back beginning to arch from the weight of your five month swelling belly.

“Yes, but this is a baby’s room. I don’t think he or she is going to like it,” You retorted back; “It’ll be too dark and...scary. I want Little One to be comfortable in here.”

Severus looked around. Perhaps, black was too extreme for such a small human. He looked a tad defeated and disappointed in himself. He was trying his hardest. You caught his dejected look.

“Oh, honey. I know you want it to be perfect,” You said, taking his face into your hands; “We can do it together. Maybe we can sneak a bit of black in here somewhere.”

He nodded.

“So, what color should we paint the room?” He asked.

You looked around this time, biting your lower lip in thought. You wanted to have gender neutral colors, and something that would be cozy for the baby.

“How about we paint the walls white? That way we can add pops of color wherever we see fit.” You said after a moment of thought.

Severus agreed, but was holding to your promise to have at least some black in the room. The nursery was an ongoing project, lasting about a week and a half. The crib was the last item placed in the room, and it was complete. You and Severus stood in the middle, basking in the finished nursery.

“It looks great, S.” You said, looking at the black painted changing table and the mobile above the crib.

“It does. I’m glad you helped me.” He admitted, eyeing the moving pictures on the walls.

You wrapped your arms around your husband’s waist, his lips falling to your head in response.

“We’re going to be one happy family.” You announced.

Severus laughed into your hair, his heart beating with hope.

“We already are.”

You had officially made it past the halfway mark, and your due date was quickly approaching. There was still so much to do, and not a lot of time to do it. Your bump was already huge, and you still had another trimester to go. You were getting to the point where swollen feet and an aching lower back was crippling your ability to go out and do much.

You were laid out on the sofa with Severus rubbing your tired feet. You were fighting the aching pain in your back and legs from the unevenly distributed weight from your midsection.

“I really need to go out today.” You winced as another round of soreness flooded your body.

Severus’ careful hands continued to massage the aching muscles of your feet.

“Why, love? You can surely go on a day where you’re feeling in higher spirits.” He said.

While he wasn’t totally wrong, you were at the point where every day was the same as the last. You had a feeling that you wouldn’t have a “higher spirits” day for a while.

“I suppose I could. But I need to get baby clothes, pacifiers, bottles.” You grunted, exhaling heavily.

You really needed to do this, but you just weren’t feeling up to it. Then you had an idea. Since Severus didn’t get to put all his effort into the nursery, you thought you could give him a second chance.

“Severus, could you possibly go out and buy baby stuff today?” You suddenly asked.

You were honestly expecting him to say no, considering he knew nothing about baby fashion. Instead, his face brightened and he leapt up from the couch.

“Of course! Why didn’t you just ask?” He queried, giddy with joy.

You laughed at his anticipation, giving him a few instructions.

“Alright, Sev. Don’t buy anything ridiculous or anything that’s made of uncomfortable material,” You said; “And do NOT get anything Slytherin related. As much as you would like it, we have no clue what Little One is going to be sorted into when he or she is old enough.”

Severus groaned.

“Not even a-”

“No Slytherin stuff.”

“Well, what about a-”

“No, Severus.”

He groaned again, but accepted your request. As badly as he wanted his daughter or son to be a Slytherin, there was always the chance that they wouldn’t be. He’d love them regardless of what House they were in, but it would tickle him to death if they were a Slytherin.

So Severus went out into Diagon Alley with extra pep in his step, jittery as he went from store to store getting stuff for his little girl or boy. Severus had never paid much attention to baby clothes, and now that he was looking, his heart was swelling with excitement.

There were so many cute sweaters, onesies, socks, and pajama sets that absolutely made Severus burst with joy. He would pick out about a dozen outfits to start out with, knowing that you’d have to go buy more once the baby was older. But each time he thought he had enough, he’d spot two or three more outfits that he just had to buy.

He could not WAIT to see his baby in all of this stuff. It had obviously been a while since he was a child, and he was amazed at all of the new things that had been invented to make parenting easier and childhood more fun.

He bought a pacifier for every day of the week, and enough toys that would last your kid through kindergarten. He bought blankets and stuffed animals and anything else that a baby MIGHT want. Your baby was going to be spoiled to the max.

Truth be told, Severus went a little overboard with his purchases. He came back with no less than ten bags full of baby materials. You not-so-gracefully lifted yourself from the couch when he entered, several bags hooked onto each of his arms. He had a proud smile plastered on his face.

“Oh Merlin, Severus! What all did you buy??” You questioned, eyes bugging out at all the goodies in front of you.

“Clothes, pacifiers, bottles. Everything you asked for.” Severus stated innocently, you rifled through the bags at all the baby wonders.

“And toys, blankets, and stuffed animals.” You finished his list.

You looked at Severus with an entertained smile, his cheeks glowing red.

“I just want Little One to be happy.” He shrugged meekly.

You let out a soft “awh” and captured his soft lips in a sweet kiss. He already loved this baby so much that it melted your heart.

“With you as their dad, they absolutely will be.”

__

You had never been happier to enter your third and final trimester. You were in the home stretch, and you were so excited to meet your baby. You were about to pop like a balloon and, quite frankly, you had enough of it. Don’t make any mistake about it, you had cherished every moment of being pregnant, but you were ready to get some somewhat decent sleep without being kicked in the ribs every 5 minutes.

Although, with a newborn around, you weren’t sure how much sleep you would get.

Over the course of your pregnancy, Severus had become more and more protective the more your baby grew. Now that your due date was only a few days out, he jumped at any sudden movement or noise. He had eyes and ears like a hawk. He came barreling into the living room, completely naked and dripping with water from where he had just stepped into the shower.

“Darling, what was that? Are you alright?” He asked frantically as if he had just heard an airstrike.

You looked up from your book, readjusting the pillow that was underneath your massive belly to support the weight.

“Severus. I sneezed.” You declared.

Relief washed over him, and he ran a hand through his damp hair.

“Oh. Do you need anything?” He asked you for the millionth time that evening.

You laughed shortly, nodding your head.

“Yes. I’m fine,” You said; “Please try to enjoy your shower.”

Severus had been on your tail nonstop for the last three weeks. Even though most pregnancies go the full 40 weeks, your doctor said that labor could be expected once you hit 36. Sev didn’t want you out of his sights in case you went into labor early. He didn’t want to miss anything.

You had begged him to break away just for a minute, for his sake and yours. He padded back to the shower, ignoring the way his heart was thumping in his chest. You went back to your book, grinning to yourself at your anxious husband.

Once Severus was showered and somewhat calmer, you had grown tired and were ready to get in bed. Growing and carrying a baby had really tanked your energy levels, but Severus didn’t mind going to bed early. As long as he knew you and the baby were safe, he was content.

He laughed out loud when you slid into bed wearing only a pair of panties and a t-shirt that you had used a spell to stretch out. It was the only sleepwear that fit you due to your risen belly.

Getting comfortable was next to impossible, but you had gotten used to it over the last few months. You didn’t mind, because you knew it’d be back to normal soon. Severus was eyeing your tummy, looking to you with expectation once you were settled.

“Go ahead, Sev.” You giggled, knowing what he wanted.

Every single night since you had been pregnant, Severus would rub your belly and tell the human growing inside of you goodnight. Severus shimmied down to where his face was in front of your bump. He lifted the shirt up to reveal your bare belly. He left a kiss on the stretched skin, carefully placing both of his hands on you.

“Hello in there,” Severus said, smiling proudly when he felt the baby move at the sound of his voice; “Are you still kicking your mother?”

You even nodded at that, thinking about all the times that the baby had soccer kicked your ribcage or hit your bladder just right. You placed one hand over one of Severus’, and put your other in his hair as he spoke.

“I’m so ready to meet you. I love you so much already. Other than Mum, I never thought I could ever love someone this much,” Severus spoke gently; “You two are my whole world.”

You rubbed his hair as you listened. Severus had been nothing short of amazing during this process. He was more than you could ever ask for. This baby was going to be loved endlessly.

“I don’t know how great of a father I’ll be. I didn’t exactly have ideal parents. I admit that I don’t have a model to go off of. But I will love you no matter what,” He spoke; “I hope you sleep well, Little One. I can’t wait to see you.”

He pressed another kiss to the side of your belly, before returning to your side. You were misty eyed at his words, turning so you were facing him.

“Oh, Severus. You’re going to be a wonderful dad. I’ve seen the way you love this child,” You assured; “Little One is going to love you. And there’s no one else I’d rather bring a baby into this world with.”

Severus still had a modest amount of nerves, but it was drowned out with joy. He was so ready for this baby.

“I love you.” He whispered.

“I love you, Sev.” You whispered back.

You leaned to kiss him, but just as your lips touched, you felt a contraction and a massive gush of fluid flushed out between your legs, soaking both of your lower halves. A startled gasp fell from your mouth, and Severus eyes grew about three times their normal size. You both knew what that meant.

Little One was about to make his/her entrance into the world.

__

Getting to the hospital from the time that labor began was a blind rush. Severus was positively panicked, which didn’t help your attempts to remain relaxed. He had spent 9 months preparing for this moment, and he was still caught off guard.

The hospital was busy, but you had a team of nurses and doctors ready to go. You were wheeled into a delivery room, your doctor checking to see how dilated you were. He let you know that you had one of the fastest dilations he had ever seen, because you were already at 10 centimeters. There was no time for an epidural or a spell.

It was time to push.

The nurses got your legs into delivery position, Severus taking your hand as the doctor and nurses guided you through it. You gave a hard push, screaming bloody murder and squeezing the circulation out of Severus’ hand.

“You’re doing great, my love. Keep pushing.” He praised you.

Your head fell back onto the pillow with gruff, heavy breaths. You were filled with a pain you couldn’t describe. You needed this baby out. The doctor gave you a second to rest, before instructing you to push again. You took a deep breath, every muscle in your body tensing up as you pushed. Severus scrunched his nose at how badly you were hurting his hand, but he didn’t dare say anything.

The baby’s head and shoulders were out, ear splitting cries echoing through the room. It was the most beautiful sound you had ever heard. Severus peeked between your legs, and you saw the way his face filled with pure love as he saw your baby for the first time.

“Oh, [Y/N]. Little One is gorgeous...” He breathed, wanting you to push again so you could be able to see; “Push again, darling. You’re almost there.”

The nurses and Severus were encouraging you as you pushed hard a few more times, your baby finally entering into the world. Severus was a little too squeamish to cut the cord, but he watched every single movement as the doctors and nurses cut the umbilical cord and got them cleaned up. You were breathing heavily, your entire body shaking from the strenuous action. You whimpered out to Severus, who had a better viewpoint than you did.

“Is the baby okay? Please tell me the baby’s okay...” You whined out, desperate to see him/her.

Severus was close to crying, but it was the happiest he had been in his entire life.

“The baby is perfect. You did so well, my love.” He said, kissing your sweaty forehead.

The chaos in the room died down, and one of the nurses had swaddled the crying baby. She gave a huge, kind smile and set the baby in your arms.

“Say hello to your baby girl.” She cooed.

Tears fell from your eyes as she was placed into your arms. Her cries dwindled out at the feeling and sound of your and Severus’ voices. She was the most stunning baby you had ever seen. Severus felt something awaken in him. A side of him that had been itching to come out.

“A girl...oh, a girl.” You cried happily.

Severus sniffed, holding back tears.

“She’s beautiful. She’s perfect.” Sev croaked.

He placed a kiss on her forehead, her small baby whimpers making his heart explode. The two of you sat in silence, raking over your baby’s perfection. After a minute, you looked up at Severus with a smile.

“I just thought of something we have to do.” You said.

Panic flashed over his face again. You had done everything he thought. What could there possible be to do?

“What is that, darling?” He acquired.

You giggled, kissing Severus’ cheek.

“We’ve got to pick a name for her.”

[there-must-be-a-lock]

Lou’s Quick and Dirty Guide to Smutting

A long time ago (a week ago? two weeks ago?) @riddikulus-obsessions asked me for tips on writing smut that flows. And like... I could probably write a well-constructed essay about that subject, but instead I just started word-vomiting and this is what I came up with. 

1. Don’t neglect the emotional story! It doesn’t matter how “plotless” your porn is; these are people, not just bodies, and so there is always an emotional story. The emotional connection is what’s going to set this smut apart from every other “insert appendage A into hole B” story out there. If you are only paying attention to the physical side of things, the scene is going to feel stiff and jerky, because the emotional connection is what fills in the blanks between the physical movements. 

Sex isn’t particularly interesting on its own. Neither is smut. But if you can find something about the scenario or the dynamic that reveals something new to the characters or resolves some sort of emotional question… those are the stories that you remember. Figure out the emotional heart of the story and let the smut add to that narrative. 

2. Consider pacing and build. You know how sex is sometimes like a zero-to-sixty, need-you-right-now thing, and sometimes it’s a slow-burn thing, and sometimes it’s ups and downs and breaking to laugh about something silly and the orgasm sort of takes you by surprise thing? Yeah. That. It’s not Point A to Point B in a straight steady line, any more than it’s Appendage A in Hole B. 

Use syntax and sentence structure that mirrors the action. When your characters are shy? Quick basic sentences. When they’re getting caught up in each other, when they’re racing toward the finish line and they’re so caught up in sensation that they’re not thinking rationally any more, it’s okay to let loose with a run-on sentence that flows the same way their emotions do. 

If things get too intense too early, it’s hard to make the climax (emotional or orgasmic, take your pick) feel like an actual climax. Sometimes you might need to take a break for someone to crack a joke or just stop dead to stare at their partner and thank their lucky stars. Don’t climax prematurely!  

3. Remember positions! Keep track of where everybody’s limbs are! Keep track of how they’re getting from place to place! Keep track of which clothes are still on! Don’t focus too hard on them, they shouldn’t necessarily be central to the action, but you can wrap those movements and those details into the rest of the narrative. “She noticed the way he smiled as she started to unbutton his shirt,” or whateverthefuck. 

But, CLOTHES DO NOT MAGICALLY VANISH. 

4. Use all the senses, and include small, specific sensory details. You don’t want to tell your reader a story; you want to bring them into it and let them feel it as if they’re there. As a narrator, you have this image in your head of the whole scene, but when you’re in the scene, you can’t see the big picture! The smaller the details, the more real it will feel. 

Anyone can describe the mechanics of sex, the basic positions or the overall experience of having an orgasm, but in the moment, those aren’t the things you notice! What do the sheets smell like? What do you feel when you actually run your fingertips down someone’s back: textures, hair, scars? When you’re close to someone, what do you actually see when you open your eyes? It’s up-close and personal, it’s out of focus, it’s sort of disjointed and fragmented… 

Details make things real. Don’t try to describe the whole scene. Describe the freckle you never noticed on someone’s neck, or the way their skin tastes salty when you kiss their cheek, or the fact that you’ve never been close enough to smell their lavender shampoo before. 

5. Make it real and messy. Related to point #4, but. REAL details. Sex isn’t always flawless or easy or effortlessly romantic. Like, yes, we’re writing fantasies when we write smut, but… the best fantasies are the ones that deal with something real; it’s reality, but better. Like, yes, they’re having this amazing sex, but along the way, somebody got a cramp in their foot and somebody made a weird noise and maybe they almost knocked each other over while trying to balance on one foot kicking off their pants. Because that’s what sex is like sometimes. 

Again, this is true both physically and emotionally. My most popular fics are the ones that sprang from some sort of “well this is a thing I’ve experienced during sex that actually kind of sucks, how do I make it hot?” Things like body insecurity, trauma, “there’s no way you’re gonna make me come by doing that, dude,” dealing with lube and condoms, communicating about things that might be embarrassing… seriously, every one of my most popular smutty stories was inspired by some sort of awkward experience. I just rewrote it to give it a better ending. Usually by making the male character fucking communicate, which… is pretty unrealistic, in my experience!!!! 

Anyway. That’s important. The messy flawed bits don’t detract from the perfection; they’re part of the intimacy of the experience.

Go forth and smut my dears!

And if you have any tips, tricks, or advice: please share!

[reyescarlos]

someone to you || a tarlos fic

read on ao3 || word count: 6.1k

Summary:

Ever since the start of the semester, Carlos has been harboring a crush on the cute guy in his weekly lecture. When the boy begins appearing at the coffee shop Carlos works at, attending weekly open mic nights, Carlos finds himself falling a little bit more with each song. After one slightly awkward introduction, Carlos goes from being unknown to seen. With a friendship fully in place, Carlos' feelings only grow but he slowly starts to see that maybe, just maybe, he isn't alone in thinking they could be something more.

story mood board by: @sunshinestrand​ literally just reposting this story because Paige surprised me and blessed me with this graphic and it needs to be seen! thank you so much, my love! I loved writing this fic for you. now we’ve come full circle 💜💕

I’ll make the moon shine just for your view I’ll make the starlight circle the room And if you feel like night is falling I wanna be the one you’re calling

“If you don’t say something to him one of these days, I just might lose my mind,” Michelle says with a sigh as she approaches the counter where Carlos is standing.

He chews absentmindedly on his bottom lip as he looks over at TK. Everything to the guy is so effortless. Somehow he makes sitting down in a coffee shop look like an ad as he holds up his mug aloft and laughs at something one of his friends says.

Carlos would give anything to have that kind of access to TK, to be able to share in jokes and to simply know him. Carlos is fairly certain TK doesn’t even know they’re in the same lecture every Tuesday. But even in a hall filled with students, Carlos is always able to spot him, constantly dialed into his frequency like his favorite radio station.

Realizing that he’s been blatantly staring, Carlos clears his throat and looks away, mindlessly pouring sugar into a dispenser.

“It’s just a stupid crush. It doesn’t mean anything.”

Michelle rolls her eyes. “Yeah, well the way I see you gawk at him every week he shows up here says otherwise.”

Carlos can’t help it. In their class TK almost never speaks but each time he makes it out to an open mic, Carlos gets treated to TK quite literally under a spotlight, up on stage singing and playing his guitar or the keyboard.

“He’s really good. I like his sound is all.”

“Is that a euphemism?” Michelle teases, bumping her hip against Carlos’ as she passes by him. “I think it’s safe to say you like his everything.”

He jokingly glares at her before laughing. She’s definitely not wrong about that. Carlos has been crushing quietly since he first saw TK in their lecture at the start of term a little over two months ago. TK has been coming to open mic nights here at the cafe for the last month. Each week he performs, Carlos feels himself fall a little harder, swept up in his beautiful voice. Whether TK performs original music or a cover of something, he always brings the house down.

Michelle glances at her watch. “Oh, I have to start in just a few. Are you okay up here?”

“Yeah, I can tackle the counter. You go ahead.”

She pats his arm once with a smile before moving from behind the counter to head towards the stage to double check the microphones and setup for the evening’s session. He turns his focus back on refilling the dispensers in front of him. A shadow casts suddenly over the countertop, darkening his work area. Carlos looks up, his hand jerking forward in surprise to see TK smiling at him. Sugar spills against the surface, Carlos quickly tipping the bag upright to stem the flow.

“Shoot, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to scare you,” TK says, grabbing a tissue and trying to clean up the grains of sugar.

Carlos grabs a dry rag from under the counter and wipes it away.

“No worries. It’s cool. Uh, can I get anything for you?” he asks, looking back at TK, doing his best to ignore the way his heart is hammering. This isn’t how he pictured his first substantial interaction with TK to go but he saves face as best he can.

“Could I trouble you for a scone?” TK says, jutting at the case with his thumb.

Carlos holds his breath and nods, clearing his throat, picking up the tongs and a plate. “Yeah, sure thing.”

TK smiles and Carlos can feel something inside his chest melt at the sight. Before he can dwell on it or potentially embarrass himself by randomly saying something to prolong the moment, he quickly puts the pastry on the dish. TK already has his card out, ready to pay for it.

Carlos ignores the slight tremble in his hands as he takes it, mentally reprimanding himself for getting so worked up over his brief and truly mundane conversation with TK.

“Here you go,” he says, handing back TK’s card and pushing the plate toward him.

TK thanks him and Carlos thinks that’s the end of their interaction until TK looks up again and eyes him thoughtfully.

“I feel like I know you.”

The phrasing makes his breath catch in his throat but he quickly realizes what TK actually means.

“We have a class together, don’t we?”

“Astronomy,” Carlos supplies.

TK snaps his fingers and points at him. “Right, yes. That’s it. Man, that was really bugging me. I knew I recognized you from somewhere other than here. It’s good to see you…”

“Carlos.”

“Carlos,” he repeats as if weighing the syllables on his tongue. “I’m TK. It’s nice to meet you officially.”

“Yeah, you too.”

The house lights dim and both TK and Carlos snap their heads towards the stage where Michelle approaches the microphone.

“Hello and welcome to open mic night here at Déjà Brew,” she greets. There’s a warm round of applause and eager cheering from the crowd gathered.

“It’s always so great seeing so many familiar faces and new ones alike. There are still slots available. Our sign up sheet will remain here just offstage for anyone that would like to perform,” she says, gesturing to her left. “Without further ado, please help me welcome one of our favorite regulars to the stage…Mr. TK Strand. Take it away, sir,” she muses.

TK turns back to Carlos and looks as if he wants to say something but the crowd is already giving him a warm, welcoming applause. He quickly takes his scone and hurries back to his table where one of his friends is holding out his guitar for him.

Carlos lets out a breath as TK approaches the stage and settles on the stool positioned right in the center of it. A few people whoop and cheer for him once again now that he’s situated. TK laughs coyly but the microphone sends his chuckle throughout the room.

“Thank you for that lovely intro, Michelle. Very flattering; I love being a favorite but really, who doesn’t?” he jokes, earning a few laughs. “I was debating what to play tonight. I’ve been working on some new stuff but finally settled on just going for one of my favorite songs by one of my favorite artists. This is The Girl by City and Colour, bastardized by me.”

There are a few more laughs, TK personable as ever that he makes each person feel like they’re old friends. Anyone who has ever heard him play knows there’s no way he won’t knock this cover out of the park.

From the first string TK plucks, the room is completely his. Carlos watches his fingers move expertly along the fretboard. It’s a real sight to see and as Carlos looks away from TK’s hands to his face, he can see just how much fun he’s having with the playful opening melody.

TK gets close to the mic and starts to sing and instantly Carlos leans closer, arms folded on the counter as he watches TK in action. There isn’t a single person speaking quietly to a friend or distracted by their phone. All eyes are glued to the musician on stage. Carlos could listen to TK play all day and never grow tired of the sound. It’s remarkable how his voice floats and cloaks the room, each note nestling in his chest like seeds.

The audience erupts into applause as TK’s final note rings out. He smiles to himself before looking out at the crowd.

“Thank you so much,” he says into the mic before slipping off his guitar and hopping down from the low stage.

Carlos can’t help but to smile as people TK passes give him thumbs up or murmur compliments as he returns to the table with his friends.

Michelle gets back on stage and introduces the next person on the sign up sheet.

The next performer is great but Carlos knows he’s more than a little biased in saying that TK will be the best person to hit the stage tonight.

He chances a glance over at TK and sees that TK is looking at him as he breaks off a piece of his scone. Carlos quickly looks away and focuses on other tasks throughout the rest of his shift, ones that don’t include keeping tabs on the comings and goings of a certain musician.

The night comes to a close, marking yet another successful open mic night. Given that it’s Friday, most of the crowd dissipated as the evening progressed to perhaps party or hang out elsewhere. TK and his friends opted to stay for the entire session, as they almost always do, showing support to each performer who graced the stage.

As TK and his group begin to file out for the night, Carlos waves them off as they say their thanks for another fun night at the shop. Carlos turns his back for a moment to replenish silverware when he hears the quick rap of knuckles on the counter. He turns and is greeted to TK’s bright and open smile up close for the second time this evening.

“So, I’ll see you on Tuesday, right?” he says, hitching the strap of his guitar case up his shoulder.

Brought up short at TK essentially singling him out just then, Carlos nods slowly before he finds his voice again.

“Yeah, definitely. I’ll uh, I’ll see you next week.”

“Cool. Have a good night, Carlos,” TK replies simply with the smile that hasn’t left his face. He knocks on the counter once as if to punctuate his sentence and slinks away to join his friends just outside of the shop.

“Looks like you made it onto someone’s radar tonight,” Michelle sing-songs, settling in beside him.

Carlos stares out the window at TK with his friends, one guy nudging his arm as they begin to walk away. Once they’re out of view, Carlos turns back to look at her.

“He’s just being nice.”

“Denial runs deep in you, doesn’t it?” she teases, shaking her head. “Come on, let’s try and finish up so you can have some of the night to yourself, loverboy.”

~*~*~

On Tuesday Carlos makes sure he shows up early for his lecture, standing outside of the hall doors waiting for the group before him to clear out. Today has the potential to be so different from all the other lectures that have come before it. This Tuesday in particular marks the first time TK will truly know of his existence in the hall too.

He tries to settle his nerves by reading news on his phone but he’s too anxious to focus on the words for long. He gives up with a sigh, tucking his phone into his pocket when TK comes bounding toward him with a bemused smile.

“I was hoping you’d come early, too. We didn’t really get a chance to talk much on Friday,” TK says, completely blowing past any formal greeting. Carlos is taken aback by that candor.

“Yeah, I guess not. You were great, by the way. I mean, you always are but…I really liked your performance. I’ve pretty much been listening to the song on a loop since Friday so thanks for the rec.”

Carlos’ heart nosedives as he realizes what he’s just disclosed so openly. But TK doesn’t appear to think it an odd statement. His face lights up, genuinely pleased.

“Oh yeah? That’s awesome.”

“You’ve got great taste in music though, I guess that really shouldn’t be surprising.”

TK laughs. “I’d be majoring in the wrong field if I didn’t, that’s for sure.”

Before Carlos can reply, the doors to the lecture hall open, students filing out into the hallway. Carlos thinks this kills off the chance of speaking to TK still but the guy stays close to him once the doors are clear enough for them to enter too.

“Hey, do you mind if I sit with you today?” TK asks.

Carlos quickly shakes his head. “Uh, no. Not at all.”

He heads up the flight of stairs in the hall, taking up his usual seat. The one beside him is typically home for his backpack but today it’s TK’s frame that settles into the chair.

Carlos takes covert glances at him from the corner of his eye. It was truly so much easier to look at him when he was across the hall these last few weeks. This close up, it’s much harder to sneak and get an open look. But just sitting beside him makes Carlos so acutely aware of TK’s movements.

As the lecture starts, he zones out in favor of taking notice each time TK toys with the strings on his hoodie or his leg bounces restlessly.

The hour and a half passes in a blur and Carlos is surprised to look down and realize he actually still managed to take a decent amount of notes. Their professor reminds them of an upcoming assignment to which TK groans and quickly writes something down in his book, underlining it twice.

“I totally spaced on that.”

“Was that meant to be an astronomy pun?” Carlos cringes at himself but TK laughs heartedly.

“That was a good one.” He closes his notebook and puts it back into his bag, Carlos following suit and packing up his things as well. “But seriously, I completely forgot the deadline was coming up so quickly.”

“I could…if you need someone to go through it with you or anything, I could help,” he offers.

“Carlos, that’s so sweet of you but you don’t have to do that. I got myself into this mess. I’ll figure something out. But, I mean, maybe I could get your number just in case I hit a snag or something?”

The quick turnaround from feeling rejected to elated is jarring but Carlos smiles and says, “Definitely, yeah.”

TK flashes a smile back and takes his phone out, unlocking it before surrendering it to Carlos to create a new contact. When Carlos is done, he hands the phone back to TK who looks at the newest addition to his phone.

“Cool.” TK sends him a quick text. “Just in case you need to get in touch with me for any reason before then, now you can.”

That phrasing sounds like a challenge, as if TK is now tipping the ball into his court.

“I’ll keep that in mind ,” he says.

~*~*~

Texting with TK becomes such a part of Carlos’ daily routine now. It’s to the point where he comes to expect a message from TK each time his phone buzzes as they’ve had a pretty consistent chain going all week. TK’s most recent text, however, wasn’t a Spotify link to a song he thought Carlos might like but rather an SOS to help him complete his astronomy assignment. The message was followed with TK’s building and room number and the entire walk across campus is spent with Carlos’ heart racing until he’s knocking at TK’s door.

“Thank you,” TK immediately says as he lets Carlos in. “I almost didn’t text you to come over but I’m pretty sure I’ve been doing this wrong.”

Carlos looks around the room as he steps in, clearly picking up on which side is TK’s. There are guitar picks and sheet music on one of the desks, two guitar cases leaning against the wall by the foot of one bed. Above the bed itself is a stylish black and white map of Manhattan. Carlos smiles to himself seeing these traces of TK in the space.

“You can grab a seat,” TK says, gesturing to the desk chair. TK sits at the foot of the bed, a small gap of space separating them.

The air feels charged but Carlos is certain that’s all in his head. Being alone in TK’s room is worlds away from sitting beside him during their lectures.

“Okay, let’s see what you have so far,” Carlos says, determined to focus on the task at hand.

They work for about two hours, getting distracted with cracking jokes every now and then and talking about random things as they eventually end up on the floor with papers and charts spread out between them. It’s a mess but Carlos looks over all that they have and draws one very clear conclusion.

“We did it. You’re officially done.”

TK throws his hands up in victory and laughs, flopping down to rest his back on the floor and stare up at the ceiling.

“Holy shit. Thank you. Again. You’re a lifesaver; I don’t know what I would’ve done without you.” He turns his head to look at Carlos who merely shrugs.

But Carlos can’t deny how good it feels to be of help and save TK from the stress he’s been feeling with this assignment hanging over his head. TK is looking at him as if he’s a saint or something. Carlos can feel the back of his neck warming up and busies himself with gathering the sheets of paper around them to avoid looking at TK for even a moment longer before that blush spreads to his face.

“What are friends for, right?” he says, only daring to look back at TK now that he’s collected himself.

TK eyes him thoughtfully and Carlos holds his breaths as he waits to see what TK will have to say.

“Lucky me for having you as mine.”

~*~*~

TK has been frequenting the shop more often than his usual Friday nights. Now Carlos has come to expect him here and there but on Sundays mostly where the crowd is far less dense and the evenings are slowgoing enough that Carlos can actually linger behind the counter and chat with him. It’s become a common occurrence for TK to plant himself at one of the elevated seats and work on assignments. More often than not, the books get neglected for long stretches of time. It’s a comfortable routine, one that Carlos has been finding himself growing dependent on.

TK helps him clean up for the night, offering to sweep while Carlos closes out the registers. They don’t speak much as they focus on their tasks but there’s a comfort in just having TK there, to look up from counting the till to see him moving about the room. This coffee shop really belongs to them in their own ways and now they’ve managed to find yet another way to make it special.

Carlos gets back to his closing duties as TK volunteers to put the trash out back. While he’s gone, Carlos makes a quick to-go cup of green tea, TK’s usual, as thanks. TK comes back in and heads over to wash his hands in the bathroom.

When he returns, he joins Carlos at the counter who pushes the cup forward.

“For your hard work tonight,” Carlos says.

TK smirks and picks it up, bringing the cup to his mouth. “If you keep this up, you may never get rid of me.”

“Ah, so you’re on to me then.” The words slip from his lips so easily but TK doesn’t seem put off. Instead the boy smiles into his cup as he takes a sip.

Relieved, Carlos takes his store keys out of his bag and heads for the door. TK steps out as he flips off the switch, the shop plunged in darkness as he locks back.

“Thanks again for sticking around and helping me,” he says as they begin to head back to campus. “You really didn’t have to do any of that.”

“Are you kidding me? It’s the least I could do. You completely saved my ass last week and besides, it was just…nice. I like hanging out with you.”

Carlos bites the inside of his cheek to keep from breaking out into a ridiculous grin. He feels like he’s in middle school again with just how much he’s been crushing on TK but he can’t help it. His stomach always seems to do cartwheels when TK is around, especially when he makes statements like this.

They walk alongside each other in comfortable silence for a time. Carlos does his best not to keep stealing glances at TK but it’s easier said than done. A few times he’s caught TK looking at him which throws him off guard but it’s certainly not unwelcome.

“How old were you when you started playing?” he asks as they near campus.

“I always sort of grew up around the piano. My mom played and she had one in the apartment so I’d sit with her sometimes and she taught me a few things here and there. But I didn’t start taking it really seriously until I was about seven, maybe eight. It was our thing, you know? My parents…things with them went south and she was busy a lot with work. But whenever we did get to check in with each other, we’d find ourselves on the piano bench together. I loved that time with her, even though it became harder and harder to come by the older I got.”

Carlos smiles a bit sadly. But, he thinks, it says a lot that TK is able to be so candid with him about his upbringing. It’s pretty personal insight and yet TK extends it to him so freely. He supposes TK may just be an open guy in general but it still means a lot to be trusted in this manner.

“Wow, that took a turn, I’m sorry,” TK laughs, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“No, it’s okay, really. I don’t mind at all.” TK nods at this and continues after a beat.

“I got my first guitar on my tenth birthday from my dad. I think he was trying to speak our language in his own way and I really appreciated it. I took to that pretty well and became a bit obsessed, clearly. Totally thought I was going to be a kid rockstar,” he jokes. “Anyway, music’s always been there for as long as I can remember.”

“That’s really cool, TK. Most people go on a long journey to find the thing that’s right for them but your passion found you early on.”

Carlos’ building comes into view and each step towards it fills him with utter dread. They’ve already managed to stretch this night but greedily, it’s still not enough for him.

As they come to a stop outside the doors to his building, TK stares at him and for a wild moment, Carlos thinks TK might kiss him. TK does lean in but it’s to give a hug, one in which Carlos gladly reciprocates.

“It was great getting to hang out with you tonight. I had a lot of fun.”

“Me too,” Carlos replies, subtly drawing in a breath and breathing TK in as they embrace.

TK begins to pull away after a moment and places a soft kiss on Carlos’ cheek.

Carlos is sure his face flushes and he’s all too grateful for the cover of night to disguise it. They both avoid each other’s gaze for a second before laughing a bit. TK stuffs his hands into the pockets of his jacket. Carlos tries to remember how to form a sentence.

“Goodnight, TK,” he says softly.

TK searches his eyes for a moment, almost pensively before smiling faintly.

“Goodnight, Carlos. Sweet dreams.”

~*~*~

Carlos has not been able to shake his walk home with TK. Each time he thinks about it, he can practically feel TK’s lips on his cheek. It was such a modest kiss, a quick peck that probably didn’t mean anything in the grand scheme of things and yet, it’s all he can think about.

On Tuesday they sat beside each other, same as always and have continued chatting regularly through texts. Neither has made even the smallest hint or mention of what happened Sunday night. It makes Carlos wonder if he’s been blowing this out of proportion or if TK is just as clueless on what comes next as he is.

The latter seems almost comical. TK is perhaps the smoothest, most confident guy he knows. If he wanted to progress things further, he would have already.

Carlos does his best not to stare now at TK’s table. Friday night has rolled around once again and while Carlos is excited to see TK perform, it’s hard to see him and not feel transported back to Sunday night. The phantom sensation of that chaste kiss has kept him up every night this week.

“You okay?” Michelle asks, pulling Carlos from his thoughts.

Carlos blinks twice and nods. “Yeah, just tired I guess.” His eyes flicker to where TK is seated.

Something about him seems off tonight. Normally he’d be the liveliest one at the table but TK seems withdrawn.

Michelle makes a noncommittal hum but says nothing else on the matter and Carlos is grateful for it. She excuses herself to start tonight’s event.

He busies himself with customers who approach the counter as the evening kicks off, the backdrop of performers truly background noise as he works.

Michelle calls TK to the stage when it’s his turn and immediately Carlos zeroes in on his table. TK’s friend pats him on the back before letting out a whoop as he settles up on stage before the keyboard.

“Hey, guys. This one’s been playing on my mind a lot these days. Figured I should do something with it and free it somehow. So, yeah. This is Bloodstream by Stateless.”

TK clears his throat and it’s strange but for the first time, the young man actually looks and sounds nervous. He looks over at Carlos who smiles encouragingly. TK blinks twice and looks down at the keys, brows deepened before playing.

The melody he plays is eerie but beautiful, Carlos’ interest all the more piqued as TK’s fingers strike deftly. The song is haunting, TK’s voice much more gravelly than usual and it’s all so captivating that Carlos holds his breath as he listens.

I think I might’ve inhaled you I could feel you behind my eyes

“Gee, wonder who this one is for,” Michelle says, coming up beside him at the counter for a glass of water.

Carlos can’t even offer a response as he continues to watch TK. The guy’s eyes are closed as he croons into the mic, his shoulders bouncing as he strikes the right notes.

He feels goosebumps watching TK perform and can’t help but to hope there’s some validity in what Michelle is not so subtly hinting at.

TK tinkers around on the keyboard for the last few notes, his eyes landing on Carlos for the briefest of seconds as the audience claps for him. He thanks them and rises from his seat, hopping off the stage and returning to his table— but not without another look at Carlos before he sits once more with his friends.

Carlos feels shaken, his heart ricocheting like a pinball.

He hopes so fiercely that TK’s performance was a declaration of some kind but the night ends for the first time since they’ve befriended each other with an awkward smile and wave from a distance as TK and his friends leave.

Carlos isn’t sure what to make of any of this.

~*~*~

The strange energy doesn’t last long. The very next day TK shoots him a random humorous text and Carlos is glad for the ice breaker as it allows them to get back on track. They easily fall into their usual routine and as the week progresses, the night at the shop soon seems like a lifetime away.

TK invites Carlos to his dorm to hang out Wednesday afternoon and Carlos is all too happy to accept, taking advantage of his free time to head over to TK’s building.

From what he can discern, TK’s roommate is the next best thing to living alone. The guy is never in the room, leaving Carlos with uninterrupted time to just talk and be around TK any time he visits.

TK sits at the foot of the bed with his guitar, plucking out a melody for a song he’s been working on and hoping to debut at open mic. He’s got a pencil trapped between his teeth as he plays, stopping occasionally to jot down a note in the open book beside him. It’s fascinating to watch his process from his spot in the middle of TK’s bed, seeing how he develops an idea from a mere thought to an actual song, to something tangible.

“I hope this one goes over well on Friday,” TK mutters, moreso to himself.

“I know it will. Everyone loves you there and your songs are always a huge hit. This won’t be any different.”

TK smiles warmly at his sentiment. “Thanks. It’s always a bit nerve wracking to perform something new and original but it’s pretty exciting, too.”

Carlos shakes his head and laughs, resting his back against the wall.

“I could never do what you do.”

TK finger picks without even looking at the fret as he eyes Carlos quizzically.

“What? Play or perform?”

“Both. I love music but I don’t have the talent for learning. And performing? Ha, there’s no way you’d ever catch me in front of a crowd. But every week you get up there and knock it out of the park. It’s incredible though.”

TK’s mouth twists to the side slightly before he sets his guitar back into its case on the ground and turns to face Carlos again.

“Lay down,” TK says unexpectedly. Carlos is sure his expression must be bewildered because TK laughs and rolls his eyes. “I’m not about to steal your virtue. Just…settle back for a second.”

Carlos does as he’s instructed and stretches out on TK’s bed completely, his head coming to rest on the guy’s pillow. TK’s scent is everywhere and with the young man smiling over him now as he sits just to the left of him on the edge of the small bed, it’s enough to make his head spin and heart stop. He stares at him as TK speaks.

“Playing is a lot easier than you might think. It’s all about proper placement and timing.” He sets his fingertips against Carlos’ ribcage like they’re keys on a piano.

Carlos searches his face as TK mimics playing and hums a melody. It sounds familiar to Carlos but he can’t place it; it’s something classical, he knows. But his main focus is on TK’s light touches, each press of his fingertips like ripples on the surface of water. His long fingers skate up and down Carlos’ side as TK continues to play as if he’s on a Steinway.

It’s a marvel watching his expression. It’s all make-believe but Carlos has no doubt TK can see it all as clear as day in his mind’s eyes, the ivory and black keys. Though his gaze is fixed on TK’s face, the young man doesn’t lose his own focus and doesn’t catch Carlos’ eye until the final note.

“See? Nothing to it,” TK says, eyes shining with amusement.

It isn’t a conscious decision, that much Carlos knows as he sits up slowly and inches closely to TK, his hand cupping the nape of his neck. He doesn’t typically make bold moves but the draw he feels to TK is simply too much to ignore now.

TK falls silent and stares at him but doesn’t move away, his lips parting. After a beat, he draws nearer as well. Their noses touch, Carlos nuzzling gently before bringing his mouth to TK’s. That first press sends a spark shooting down his spine but Carlos doesn’t hurry or balk at the sensation. He relishes in the slight shiver that runs through TK, the small intake of breath, happy to see that he feels this thrill too. His fingers card gently at the back of TK’s hair, curling around the strands as he continues to kiss him.

TK’s hands encircle his waist, pulling him closer and Carlos is pliant as ever, melding against the man’s frame. The kiss grows gradually, moving from tentative to assured, both guys shedding away any hesitancy and owning the moment.

It’s easy for Carlos to get swept away in kissing TK. His lips are proving themselves to be skilled at more than just offering beautiful smiles.

When TK breaks first, his eyes are still closed and Carlos can’t help but to stare, smiling softly at him when he finally reopens them.

“That’s what playing feels like,” TK says quietly. “An electric rush.”

Carlos’ face burns but TK doesn’t tease him for it. Instead he leans in and kisses Carlos’ cheeks, his forehead, the tip of his nose. This draws out a laugh from Carlos, a note so carefree and unguarded he’s almost surprised it’s ripped from him.

He smiles shyly and rests his forehead against TK’s, settling down and simply breathing him in. His hand finds its way once more to the nape of TK’s neck, skimming his fingertips lightly against his scalp. TK seems to appreciate the subtle touch, his eyes fluttering briefly. It’s almost hard for Carlos to wrap his mind around the fact that he’s capable of any real effect on TK and yet, the proof is laid out right before him.

All these weeks of getting to know him as more than just the cute guy in a shared class or the talented performer who frequents open mic nights. All these weeks of truly getting to know him and falling even more, they haven’t been one-sided.

“I see why you like performing so much now. I could get used to this feeling.”

TK laughs and places another kiss on his lips. It takes everything in Carlos not to get too carried away but it’s certainly tempting. TK, a musician through and through, knows what to do with his hands. Placement and timing, as he said before.

He’s able to draw out sounds from Carlos like any of his instruments, a sigh, a moan, a whimper. Carlos’ lips feel swollen by the time they break apart for good, his head in a fog.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for weeks now,” TK says.

“Yeah?”

TK rolls his eyes jokingly. “You know, I don’t usually go around serenading guys at open mic nights, right?”

“So, that really was for me then?”

“You thought I was singing that about some other guy? Seriously?”

Carlos shrugs a shoulder, looking down until TK lifts his chin gently. He stares into his blue-green eyes and finds the confidence to keep going.

“It felt too good to be true that you may have been dedicating it to me. I thought—I mean, I’ve been hoping but was too scared to ask. In case you aren’t aware, you’re a very attractive and ridiculously talented guy, TK. You could have your pick of anyone.”

“Just like you could. Easily, Carlos. You’re such a catch. I’ve spent weeks hoping you liked me back. I was out of my mind nervous up there. It seemed like a great idea beforehand but actually being on stage and seeing you watching me? I almost chickened out but I knew my friends wouldn’t let me hear the end of it if I did. And, honestly? I wanted to get my feelings for you out there somehow. Music is always my fallback so, seemed like the best bet.”

Carlos shakes his head and draws in a deep breath, letting it out in a gust.

“It was beautiful, TK. Absolutely beautiful. No one has ever done anything like that for me.”

TK gives him a small smile, looking down and playing with Carlos’ hand. “Since we met, I’ve just wanted to matter to you. Is that weird to say?” he asks, pulling his gaze upward.

Carlos shakes his head. “No, not at all. I actually liked you before we even met,” Carlos admits. “You’ve always been someone to me, TK. Never doubt that because I get the feeling that you always will be.”

TK searches his eyes, relief flooding his features before he leans in and kisses him again. Carlos serves it right back, pulling TK against him as he sinks back against the man’s bed. It’s light, it’s playful with soft laughter and even softer kisses. It’s safe and comfortable to hand this vulnerable side over and trust it will be protected.

All in all, Carlos finds, it’s simply natural to be this way, to fall for this beautiful boy and his beautiful music that makes him feel like a work of art to TK in his own right.

[celosiaa]

comfortable, proud, safe, home

Hey everybody!! Couldn’t let Ace Awareness Week slip past me without writing a little something. I was so inspired by @lylahammar​ ‘s wonderful art here that I couldn’t resist writing a fic loosely inspired by their Jon--who uses he/they pronouns and is asexual (of course!). I hope you will enjoy :)

Comfortable.

This should be comfortable.

I should be comfortable.

I am home, I am safe, I am loved.

I am loved.

I am…

“Oh, look out, love—” Martin warns softly from the other side of the bed, reaching over to point at a spot in his knitting. “You’ve slipped a stitch, I think.”

He hadn’t realized Martin had been paying him any mind, so engrossed was he in his new book—eyes hungrily flitting over the pages in a way Jon finds so endearing, happy to see him enjoy anything so very much. Though, in hindsight, of course Martin would be keeping an eye on him. Jon is new to knitting after all, only just starting his first real project.

Well. Restarting, that is. For the fourth time.

In reality, Jon knows he had not really been paying his stitches any mind, rather focusing on looking for something to do with his hands, shaking as they were, willing to try anything to calm his racing heartbeat. It hadn’t worked—of course it hadn’t, and now he’s slipped a stitch and ruined everything once again. Without a sound, he begins to slip the rest of the stitches off the needles, starting to pull at the leading string to tear the rest of it to pieces once again—

Before warm, steady hands come to cover his own.

“Hey, hey,” Martin begins, eyebrows creasing together at once as he leans closer to Jon in worry. “No need for that, I can fix it.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jon spits, unable to control the panicked thrumming of his chest, letting it spill over into his words no matter how hard he tries to stop it. “It’s ruined again, I can’t—”

“Woah, easy, there.”

And now Martin is leaning over him properly, carefully plying Jon’s fingers from the yarn, threading his own fingers through them instead.

“Easy, Jon. Are you panicking?”

“N-no, I—” he begins—because he isn’t, not exactly, not the same.

Not in the way that Martin seems to find so important, anyway. Although…

He’s going to leave you, whispers that dark part of his mind, the part no therapy or medication had been able to heal completely.

He will leave you. You know he will.

And now, perhaps—perhaps he is panicking a bit.

“Tell me what I can do, darling. Anything at all.”

Too good you’re too good you’re going to leave me—

Even with the pounding of his pulse, the tears springing to his eyes anew—the ache in his chest tells Jon that this is something that must spill from his lips now now now, distantly wondering if this is what it felt like for those he had compelled—

“Martin, I—”

Voice briefly falling short in a choked-off sort of way, Jon takes another shaking inhale as Martin’s arm gently comes to rest across his shoulders. Comfort, you should be comfortable, you are home and you are safe—

“I’m—I have to, to tell you something. I’m…I’m nonbinary, Martin.”

Flowing now—the words are flowing in time to the blood rushing in his ears, the overwhelming sound of everything everything everything drowning out all else but his confession.

“Oh, Jon—”

“A-and it’s okay if, if that’s…if this makes things different for you, I understand, I wouldn’t blame you if…”

“Jon.”

“—if you wanted to leave. I—I would understand if—”

“Jon, I wouldn’t—”

“—if this is too much. I know it’s already got to be difficult, be-because I’m ace and you’re not, it’s got to be different—”

“Jon, please—please take a breath with me.”

No harshness, no cruelty—for a moment Jon almost believes that Martin may be alright, that they might stay together, that this might not be the start of being let down easy—but of course Martin would be kind of course he would this is it—

He takes a breath, steady as he can—and meets his eyes.

Finding nothing but warmth—always warmth.

Always for him.

“Listen to me. Are you alright to listen?” he asks, running his hand back and forth across Jon’s shoulders, the gentle pressure untwisting something dreadful that has been knotted away in his stomach for a long, long time.

“Y-yes,” he finds himself whispering, desperate to swallow the lump in his throat as Martin shifts on the bed to sit in front of him, pulling Jon’s forehead forward to press against his own, hands resting softly against his ears, and the line of his jaw on either side.

“I need you to know how proud I am of you.”

One sentence—once sentence is all it took, and the tears spill like rain down Jon’s cheeks, unbidden and lovely and so, so relieved.

Proud of me he’s proud he’s proud

“For so many things, I’m proud of you. And this is no exception, my darling.”

No exception?

“But you—heh, sorry,” he laughs damply for just a moment, reaching up to wipe his tears away, finding Martin’s thumbs already doing the job.

“But what?”

“I—you—I’m not, not a man, Martin. I’m not—”

“Jon, I—”

“Let me finish, please,” Jon begs as he pulls away from Martin, fully unable to stop his tears now, voice shaking on every note.

“Okay.”

“I-I know you’re—you’re interested in men, and—I’m not….that. A-and I’m not, not interested in sex, and—and I know you said it’s alright, and that you’re alright with that. But in case that wasn’t—wasn’t true, I. I can’t bear the thought of you feeling stuck here. With me. So, you’re—”

He swallows thickly, fruitlessly.

“You’re not. And I need you to know that.”

A pause, a small pause that sets Jon’s heart pounding again as Martin blinks at him silently.

He’s going to leave he’s going to leave

“Are you finished now?” he whispers, his own voice wobbling a bit as he refuses to look away from Jon’s gaze.

“Y-yes—mmph.”

Cut off by the warmth of Martin’s lips against his own, Jon finds himself melting—always melting, always for Martin.

He loves me he loves me he loves me

“Jon,” Martin murmurs gently as he pulls away in favor of resting their foreheads together once more, eyes brimming this time as he gazes into Jon’s tear-streaked face.

“I am not. Stuck here. I have never, not once felt ‘stuck’ with you, my love. Never.”

Overwhelmed, too much, not enough. Never enough of Martin.

“I love you, Jon. Not in spite of who you are—I love you because of it. And nothing—nothing, you understand?—that you tell me like this could ever stop that. You are my partner. You are asexual. You are nonbinary. And I am so, so proud.”

Something small and aching in Jon’s chest shatters—and he is free, so much freer than he ever has been, in this moment. With his love. With his everything.

“M-Martin, I—” he chokes around his sobs, now with a different, smiling edge. “I love—I love you. Thank you.”

“I love you,” Martin breathes easily, pressing another kiss to Jon’s lips, before pulling him forward against his chest, ever so gentle even with all his strength.

Smiling against the fabric of his shirt, Jon finally allows himself to be.

Comfortable.

Proud.

Safe.

Home.

[angeloroki]

just leave me alone — hawks. k. takami

31. « i’m not some toy you can play with ! »

51. « do you even care about me ? »

—  request ; 31 and 51 for Hawks if you can, maybe the reader is tired of just feeling like they’re being used ? Make it as sad or happy as you want ! Ending is up to you, fluff or angst Your writing is amazing!! Stay healthy and hydrated please!

(If this ask isn’t for you, no biggie! Don’t feel obligated!!)

— genre ; angst

— warnings ; argument, curses

— a/n ; first of all, you’re a sweetheart thank you bb <3 im fine, but i hope you stay healthy too !! i chose an angst ending, because this is what im good at, i hope it’s okay with you :)

you felt anger come over you.

how could he be so obnoxious to you ? after all you had done for him.

you were the only one to heal his wounds when he came back from his patrols all wounded. the only one to listen to his complaints when he had a bad day. you waited for him to come home from work late at night to comfort him after he had so many problems to face. the only one to stay by his side when everyone else had turned their backs on him ! you were faithful to him.

you cherished him with an infinite love, thinking that he felt the same love for you.

you were a fool.

you just wanted him to show you that he cared at all.

because yes, keigo could leave you days without news, only coming back to you once the mood passed. he could be adorable and affectionate one week, and during the next he could ignore you and your worried calls to immerse himself in work. you never understood, what you were doing wrong. but you weren't doing anything wrong darling, a voice said in your head.

had he once told you i love you ?

you hesitated. and that was the problem. you didn't have to hesitate about it, if you were in a relationship.

but were you really a couple ? or were you just a distraction for him ?

and now you were arguing. well, it felt more like talking to a wall.

« i'm not some toy you can play with, damn it keigo ! »

the young hero gave you a tired look, tired of your screams.

« you're such a pain in the ass. you're overreacting, stop yelling like that. »

you felt the blood rush to your ears, you turned your back on him, refusing to let him see you like that. were you exaggerating ? you ? the only fucking thing you asked for was a little understanding from your boyfriend.

« you're such an asshole. i hate myself for loving you so fucking much. for clinging to our relationship so much. »

with a neutral face, hawks almost hesitantly answered you.

« couple...? we are a couple ? »

you turned slowly, to face him. tears rolled down your cheeks before you knew it.

« damn it keigo. that hurts. » your voice broke at the end of your sentence.

you saw a hint of overwhelm pass over his face. he opened his mouth to come towards you, trying to take you in his arms.

« y/n... »

but you shifted away from him, putting your arms between you.

« do you even care about me ? »

« of course i do ! »

« then tell me you love me, takami. »

his mouth opened immediately to let a stream of silence flow from it. you let out a bitter laugh.

« i was so stupid to love you so much. »

[abraxos-is-toothless]

Summer Lovin’ (Lucien x Tarquin)

Hello all!

This fic is something new, and will be in multiple parts, updated as and when I finish the next part. It is a Lucien x Tarquin fic. I know what you’re think but I had this thought about them because everyone writes crackships, but then I told @tswaney17 and the two of us fell in love with the idea. She is to thank for this spiral.

I’m using my general ACOTAR tag list for this, but you do not have to read it. Also do let me know if you would like to be kept out of the tags for this in the future. (The title is just something for now because I honestly haven’t decided something yet😂)

~~~~~~

Lucien’s life had been chaotic lately, but still, he hadn't quite expected this to happen, of all things.

Elain had finally said she didn't want this bond between them. He knew it was going to happen and he couldn't exactly blame her. Having it related to a traumatic experience wasn't going to be something positive, and no matter what the Cauldron thought of them matching each other, accepting the bond wouldn't have made them happy. She had the Spymaster for that, and Lucien was grateful to see how much she’d healed since seeing her as skin and bones in the library of the House of Wind. Azriel helped her and loved her; it wasn’t something predestined or whatever other shit people liked to talk about. They had chosen it for themselves, and Lucien couldn’t fault them for being happy.

Then came one of the biggest bombshells of his life.

Beron was not his father.

Though he had found out several months ago, it was still fresh in his mind, as though it were yesterday that he had been told.

Lucien still didn’t understand what he was doing in the River House. Rhysand had turned up in the human lands this morning to get him. When he’d asked why, the bastard just smiled at him. Lucien had honestly thought that the male might have been taking him to his death. But then he winnowed them into an office, Feyre sitting in the window, little Nyx in her arms and a content smile on her face. Now it was a few hours later, Nesta had been and gone, collecting her nephew for his nap, and still, he didn’t know why they had brought him here.

“Are you going to tell me what is going on now, or do I have to wait several more hours?” Rhys was just smiling from where he sat on his chair, wings hidden and humming, making Lucien roll his eyes. Feyre came to sit next to her mate, giving him a reprimanding look. She gave Lucien a soft smile.

“Just a little longer, I promise.” Feyre had barely even finished the sentence when there was a knock on the door. “There we go.” She stood, smoothing the skirts of her dress before walking towards the door, trailing light fingers over Rhys’ shoulder as she went. When she pulled the door open, Lucien could honestly say he was shocked to see that it was Helion on the other side, led by Cassian.

“Your guest, dearest sister. Please, take him.” Helion let out a low chuckle behind the general. He placed a hand over his heart, faking pain when Cassian turned to look at him.

“You wound me. Why so hasty to get rid of me?”

“If you keep looking at time the way you are, I will not be held responsible for what Nesta does to you in a jealous rage.” Helion’s retort was cut off when the female in question shouted from somewhere else in the house.

“You can take him! He’s been a pesky annoyance as of late.” Cassian disappeared then, grumbling about how she didn’t mean that, he was never annoying and Nesta was madly in love with him. Which was true,-the madly in love part, not Cassian not being annoying- anyone could see it. Lucien would never tell her about the doe eyed look she got though. He valued actually being alive.

Helion laughed again, bending down to kiss Feyre on one cheek and then the other.

“Feyre, you look as lovely as you always do. Motherhood suits you.”

“That I agree with entirely.” Rhys said as his mate welcomed the newcomer into the room, closing the door gently behind them.

“I’ve told you Rhysand, no more babes until Nyx is older.” The male nodded in agreement, though Lucien thought they were going to be having this discussion a lot in the near future. She smacked him over the back of the head when he smirked, before sitting once more. He had a feeling they were talking to each other in secret again. “Have you made it so no one can hear us?” She asked when they were all settled. Helion now sat in the chair next to him, giving him a nod, Feyre sitting on the arm of Rhysand’s seat. The High Lord of the Night Court gave a dip of his head. “Warded the moment you closed the door, my love.”

“Good. Now, onto what we brought the both of you here for.”

Helion crossed an ankle over the other knee, hands linked where they rested in his lap. The High Lord of Day was dressed in a mix of gold and black. Gold fabric covered his body. One side of his chest left bare, clothing pinned at the other, flowing down his body, belted at the skirt. It was embroidered around the hem with reds and greens, and it seemed to shimmer like glitter under moonlight. Sandals wrapped around the dark skin of his calves. “Forgive me for asking, but why such secrecy? Can you not trust your own family?”

Lucien didn’t understand why they were being so careful all of a sudden, either. Any time he’d been in here, discussing all the problems they were still trying to overcome from the war with Hybern, they’d never stopped the others inside the house from being able to hear too. Rhys tilted his head slightly to the side. “The information will leave this room when you do, and you will do with it as you see fit.”

Lucien spoke then, frustrated. “You brought me here hours ago, told me absolutely nothing on why I had to come. Just tell us what’s going on.” Rhys raised a dark brow at him, but said nothing, so he turned to Feyre. She sighed, wringing her hands together before stopping herself. It was one of her nervous traits, and nervous traits accompanied by serious conversations never boded well.

“Back when we were trying to get the High Lords to work together, to help us against Hybern, you told us a story about Lucien’s mother, Helion.”

“Yes, I did.” Lucien hadn’t known that. But he supposed looking for Myriam and Drakon meant he wasn’t privy to a lot of information. There were things from the time he was gone that he was still learning about.

“Including the affair that you had.” Lucien sucked in a sharp breath, slowly looking at the male seated beside him. Beron was not nice to his mother, he knew that. But the man had spies everywhere, always had. He would have had to have known about his mother being with Helion. And if he knew, he would have had her killed for it.

“But my mother lives. My father wouldn’t have allowed her to live after he’d found out. And trust me he knows, he always knows when his family isn’t doing exactly what he wants them to.” Beron would have wanted to set an example, a vicious one at that. He showed that with what happened to Jessminda. Thinking of her only made Lucien think fondly of their good memories together now. He was no longer attacked by grief and self hatred, though waves of sadness would come and go. On the bad days, the storm in his head made them rough and dangerous, but those were few and far between.

Feyre started to look uncomfortable, causing Rhys to continue. “To have killed her, would have caused a scandal. He was younger then, and it wouldn’t have done him any good.”

Lucien still didn’t understand and it was starting to piss him off. His fire tempted its boundaries, flames growing hotter and higher in his frustration. It felt as if it were boiling his blood, heating his skin. He pushed it down into the depths where it belonged. “The only scandal is that she wasn’t faithful. The gods know he fucking hasn’t been. But then again it was always ‘do as I say and not as I do’ with him anyway.” Feyre simply shook her head at him. He opened his mouth to say something, to say how pointless this meeting was if they weren’t going to get to the point, when Helion suddenly sucked in a sharp breath from beside him. Lucien startled slightly.

“Mother above.” He breathed. “He can’t be. No, you’re lying, I don’t believe you.” Helion just stared at Lucien when he turned to him, amber eyes wide, mouth partly open.

“I’m not lying, Helion. I figured it out that day, and I’ve also had his mother confirm, but do not ask me how. You can see why Beron hated him the most now.” Lucien was severely done with them taking but still not explaining anything to him.

“Confirm what! What are you fucking talking about?” Rhysand looked at him, not even phased by his outburst.

“Beron is not your father, Lucien.” No. No. They were lying. When he looked at Feyre, when he looked at his friend, she gave him a small nod. He looked back at the male beside him, the male who seemed to be shocked into silence by the situation.

As if Lucien’s life couldn’t get anymore fucked.

It had been months since that day. Feyre told them again that she wouldn’t say how she’d been in contact with his mother, and Lucien didn’t want her to tell him anything anyway, no matter how much he wished to find out so he could see how she was. To talk to her himself. It would put her at risk, and Lucien wouldn’t allow that. And he knew now that Helion wouldn’t either. His father. The High Lord of Day was his father. Lucien was the sole heir to the Day Court. Helion had been nothing but welcoming in the time sincerely but he never pushed. Said that it didn’t have to mean anything, if it wasn’t what he wanted. Lucien had been a little confused with his wants at first, but had decided that he wanted them to acknowledge it. Wanted them to get to know each other.

Helion asked him a few weeks ago to stay with him. They didn’t have to be in the same building, that Lucien could stay wherever he liked in the Day Court, but he did want him to stay. Lucien had found he couldn’t refuse. Jurian and Vassa had been angry with him, saying that he was just abandoning them, that clearly he’d only used them. He had tried to explain that he’d just found the one who had actually fathered him. That he wanted them to have some kind of relationship, something that was robbed from the both of them. The two wouldn’t hear it, and told him to leave. So he went. They had each been closer to each other than they ever had with Lucien anyway.

That was how he was here now, standing in the garden of the small townhouse his father had found for him, the male in question standing across from him. Helion was standing in the early morning rays, arms at his sides, golden crown absent and spouting words Lucien never thought he’d hear in his life. “You want to do what?” Lucien said, still wondering if this was something that was actually happening. Helion sighed, rubbing both hands over his face for a moment, before pulling them away.

“I know that it’s not even been that long since we’ve found out the truth. And I know I don’t have the right to ask anything of you, but I think this could be the biggest step towards allying the courts together.” Lucien could see the frustration on his face, knowing that he struggled to ask this.

“You want me to marry the High Lord of Summer?”

“Yes.”

“Does he know that you want to do this?” Helion moved closer to him a little.

“I proposed a marriage alliance to Tarquin, but I didn’t say who. He agreed after a lengthy discussion, but only if who I chose wanted it. You know I haven’t formally announced that you are my son yet, and this would mean I’d have to.” Lucien folded his arms across his chest, suddenly self conscious.

“And you don’t want to announce it?”

“No.” Lucien stopped, hands tightening where they rested on his biceps. Helion, suddenly realising what he’d said, scrambled to backtrack. “Gods, I meant yes. Yes I want to tell them all I have a son. I just weren’t sure if you were ready for that.” His father let out an unsteady breath, meeting Lucien’s eyes for a second before looking away, only two repeat that over and over. “You don’t have to do this, but having my son marrying into another court makes the alliance stronger than if I were to pick out anyone else.” Lucien understood. And he understood wanting all of the courts to get along. It would mean they could truly live in peace, something they had all hoped for.

“I’ll do it.” Helion’s head shot up, disbelief written across his face.

“Really?”

“Yes.”

“I really thought you were going to say no, probably yell at me or something.” Lucien’s brows furrowed, a red lock of hair falling in front of his face.

“Why would I do that?” Helion sighed, almost exasperated. Though Lucien noticed he didn’t hold tension in his shoulders anymore, seemed more relaxed and at ease now that Lucien had answered him.

“Because I didn’t want you to think I was using you. Also, I didn’t even ask. Do you like males? That should have been a question right? I mean, I just assumed, I shouldn’t have.” His father was rambling, and Lucien chuckled.

“Yes, I like males. And Tarquin is a good male, a good High Lord. It might not end in love but, I might get a friendship out of it.” Lucien smiled, a full grin, teeth showing. It was something he realised he hadn’t done in a long, long time. Suddenly the breath was sucked out of him, and strong arms wrapped around his body. It took a moment, but Lucien returned the gesture, hugging him back. Helion was taller than him, and nearly pulled him off of his feet.

“I’m sorry. Sorry for asking. I should have found another way.”

“It’s alright. I think this might be good for me. I had Tamlin and we both know how that ended. I didn’t fit, at the Night Court, not like they do. And Jurian and Vassa...well, I told you what happened. Maybe I’ll find a home with Tarquin.” Helion pulled back, holding his shoulders, a soft smile on his face.

“You may not think it, but you fit here. I never got to be there before, and part of me is glad because the not knowing kept you and your mother safe, but I’m here now. I want to be your father.”

“Thank you.” They decided to continue walking through the garden then. Mostly in companionable silence, occasionally asking the odd question here and there. Lucien was getting lost in his own thoughts. He wondered whether Tarquin would be okay that it was Lucien he was marrying. If they’d be able to make some kind of happy life together. The few times he’d seen him before, Lucien could admit he was attracted to him. It was easy to make conversation with Tarquin, to find common interests. There was the chance it would never turn romantic and Lucien would be okay with that, but at least he’d have a companion to live his life with.

Maybe this was his chance to get his own happy ending.

~~~~~~

Well there it is. The beginning. You’ll see Tarquin next time I promise but I just wanted to give you something to see if you were going to like the story or not. Please be respectful, I’m tired of the ship wars. I want this to be a safe place for me to post the ideas that I have.

Tags: @myfriendscallmeraba  @thesirenwashere @elrielllll  @stars-falling @silver-flames @1islessthan3books @bamchickawowow @empress-ofbloodshed @sleeping-and-books @tswaney17 @awkward-avocado-s @courtofjurdan @junkiejosten10 @mu-si-ca-l @agem10 @harmonyindark245 @tanaquilpriscilla @starrynightsbooks @maastrash  @elriel4life @illyriangarbage @b00kworm @thewayshedreamed @rhyswhitethorn @22emmmmmm @mimianyy @stop-breathing-its-annoying

[imherongraystairstrash]

could you do the prompt "you look awful" with alastair and lucie? (platonically ofc)

Writing fanfiction instead of doing my homework checkkk ✌️

Characters: Lucie and Alastair (Platonic) Prompt: “You Look Awful”

Lucie didn’t remember the last time she had cried. Maybe it was because she submerged herself into her pride and joy, “The Beautiful Cordelia”, whenever she was sad. And she could do whatever she wanted when she wrote. Nothing was out of reach. She could make the villains lose and the hero win every, single time. She took comfort in knowing she could do the opposite, should she wish to. In her stories, nothing happened without her consent.

But in real life? The rash reality was that she couldn’t fix anything with a swish of her quill. She couldn’t erase somebody’s death and she most certainly couldn’t bring anyone back to life. Lucie wiped away tears with the back of her hand.

Whatever was the point in having the power of resurrection, the power to command the dead, when she couldn’t bring back to life a measly spider, let alone the life she truly longed for?

Perhaps it was for the better, Lucie thought. If she had the power to bring people back to life, what would stop her from bringing back lives lost tragically? Barbara, Oliver, all of their lives mattered as well… 

Or maybe it was what she deserved. For having the audacity to dream that for once in her life, she would be the hero. She wouldn’t be James’ little sister. The second Herondale child. The one without inherited powers. 

She shouldn’t be jealous of James; his life was beyond difficult. But Lucie still felt that the only people who marked her significance were her family. And even then, she didn’t feel important. She felt like a side character to a main character’s story. Only interesting enough when they are in the shadow of the character that really matters.

She couldn’t escape her problems this time. Not through writing, at least. Her frustration was a harsh wave pulling her mind farther and farther away so that she couldn’t muster up the ability to write but a sentence. Tears started flowing vigorously. What was she without writing? How could The Angel be so cruel as to take that away too? 

“You look awful,” she heard someone say.

Lucie looked up at Alastair, who was staring at her, but not unkindly. He sat down next to Lucie on the floor. 

Lucie quickly turned away, ferociously wiping a tear away. “It’s nothing. You don’t have to stay here, Alastair. You probably have better things to do.”

“My sister’s soon-to-be parabatai is on the floor of a hallway, all alone, crying over something that is clearly not nothing; I’m not leaving.” 

Lucie turned back to look at him in confused wonder. She’d never thought Alastair would care whether she was sad or not. Of course, she knew he was protective over Cordelia, but never did it cross her mind that Alastair would care enough about her to stay and see what was troubling her. 

“Are you alright, Lucie?”

James would have demanded who had made her sad and then proceed to hunt that person down with his band of Merry Thieves, leaving Lucie alone in the process. Could that be why Lucie didn’t cry much? Because it was never about her and always about who made her sad?

“Lucie?”

Lucie shook her head as a means of clearing it. “Yes, it’s okay.”

“You don’t have to talk about it, but it’s alright to be sad.”

Lucie didn’t really know what to say. That was also something she’d never been told. Why is it that being sad was wrong? Every now and then, was it alright to feel sad?

“My mother taught me that phrase.” Alastair said, looking at the wall in front of them. “I sometimes have difficulties accepting the fact that sadness isn’t always negative and that there is not always a reason behind it. Sadness is the same as happiness, except that it has the potential to drown you if you feel too much of it.”

“I like the sound of that. Even though it’s a bit morbid. It—it is like a good kind of morbid.”

“A good kind of morbid.” Alastair said, half to himself, with a smile. “We should coin that.”

“Oh, yes. I am sure we can make a club and get many people to join.” Lucie said. 

Alastair continued smiling. Lucie didn’t see Alastair smiling much, but she thought it was nice to look at. It was clearly not practiced; his smile was crooked and strange, suggesting that the facial expression is rare enough for him that it’s a bit awkward, but there was something about the smile of someone who doesn’t smile much that makes it charming.

Alastair Carstairs was interesting. Lucie had always thought so. He felt much older and was always so mature. Not like Charles was; Charles acted the way he did perhaps to spite them, or because they were his practice subjects for when he was to be Consul. Alastair was mature because it almost seemed like he was forced to. Alastair didn’t seem to enjoy being mature, it was like it was an unwanted gift that was thrust upon him and he was forced to keep it. 

Lucie shook her head once more. She was tired of secrets and though Grace wasn’t as horrible as Lucie thought she was, she didn’t keep good company. Lucie felt useless; she wanted to help with something.

“Alastair, do you want me to talk to Thomas?” Lucie asked. 

“What?” Alastair said, paling.

“I’ve been friends with Thomas for longer than anyone, save Christopher; he’ll listen to me. I’ve been thinking, and it seems a bit foolish to be angry at you. Yes, you did something horrible, but you were young. I know Uncle Gideon and Aunt Sophie as well, and they’re not ones to hold a grudge over something like that, especially if you apologize.”

Alastair just stared ahead before he said, “don’t worry about me right now, Lucie. This is about whether you are alright or not.”

Lucie looked at him sadly. “I am alright. And I would rather talk about you. Alastair, you’re like one of my tragic book characters.”

“What?”

“It’s better if you don’t ask questions.”

Alastair shrugged.

“The point is,” Lucie continued. “You seem like you’re afraid to be happy.”

Alastair made a noise in the back of his throat.

Though James always liked to tease her for not knowing when to keep quiet, Lucie didn’t elaborate. For once, Lucie let the words speak for themselves. She looked at Alastair as he slightly furrowed his eyebrows, lost in thought. 

“I’m doing this for Thomas as well.” She whispered after a while.

“Thomas hates me.”

“He doesn’t.” Lucie said firmly. “He desperately wants to hate you, but he can’t. He knows he’s being dramatic.”

Alastair scoffed. 

“It’s true. I’ve known Thomas my entire life, and I understand him enough to know that if you apologize—and I mean truly apologize— and he sees you regret it, there’s not a single reason as to why he wouldn’t forgive you. He may be stubborn, but when it comes to this, I think he’ll understand.”  

There was a solemn quiet in the hall. For someone passing by, it would seem as though the boy and girl were mourning or were just told terrible news. In reality, however, it was the quiet of gears turning, of minds contemplating, wondering.

“They seem so kind.” Alastair said quietly.

“Who?”

“Gideon and Sophie. I’ve never witnessed two people who don’t have a single ounce of… bitterness towards anybody.”

Lucie nodded. “They’ll like you.”

“I very much think you’re lying.”

“No, I’m speaking with all the seriousness in the world. They believe in the power of change; all of the Lightwoods do, because they themselves are proof of changing for the good.”

Alastair looked at his shoes. “It’s a bit ironic. I come to help you, and instead you help me.”

Lucie smiled to herself. “Oh, but you did help me.” Because Lucie didn’t feel completely useless. Nor did she feel like a failure. She was helping Thomas and Alastair and she could think of nothing better to make her feel better.   

Tagging: @livvyheronstairs @hitheresomeoneusingthus @celias @tsccreatorsnet @atla-lok143 @aceofjesper @autumnangel20 @julemmaes @rinadragomir @cupcakesandkittens @youngreckless 

If you want to be tagged in future fics, please let me know! 

[opalsdarkreadings]

✰𝙅𝙪𝙟𝙪𝙩𝙨𝙪 𝙆𝙖𝙞𝙨𝙚𝙣: 𝙢𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝙛𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙨𝙥𝙚𝙣𝙙𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙡𝙞𝙙𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙬𝙞𝙩𝙝 𝙍𝙚𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧✰

Pairings: Gojo, Yuji, Fushiguro, Nobara, x gender neutral reader

Warnings: light cursing

Notes: writers block is a bitch! Took like three weeks to write this ;-; I still hope you guys enjoy this little fluff. As you can probably tell I suck at it and I’m trying to get better 😭

『𝕊𝕒𝕥𝕠𝕣𝕦 𝔾𝕠𝕛𝕠』

This was going to be one of the Christmas you never forget, he promised himself that. Each year you found some way to knock him off his feet, every gift being etched into his memory never to be forgotten.

He wanted the same for you. This need of acceptance and praise from you was bigger then any sweet tooth craving he’s ever had. He wanted this year to be the year that truly left you speechless. After all you were his lover and deserved nothing less.

But whatever he came up with just didn’t sit right. Trips and expensive gifts, just material things like cars or shoes couldn’t possibly bring the punch he was looking for. You needed something that’ll forever be engraved into your mind, something that the mere thought of would bring tears to you.

He didn’t care for his gifts but when it concerned you, only the best was presented and he’ll be damn if he lets it slip this year. But he was pulling at straws at this point, some things were just cliche and cheesy. Dresses, designer clothes, bags etc they all seemed to pale in comparison.

Well till he landed on this rare find.

Satoru was quit persistent in getting you into sharing one of his treats. The Christmas theme cake hadn’t even been cut yet, as he tried to get you into the kitchen. “Come on~ it’s really good I get it every year! So you have to try it.” He said smiling as he stood towering over you. A skeptical glance was thrown back to him as your place a hand over your hip, “And when did you ever share any of your rare sweet treats with me agian?” Not only was this unusual, it’s damn near unheard of. Your lover had a ginormoussweet tooth that’ll leave even large cake corporations at bankruptcy’s trying to cater to Satoru. His sweet tooth always aching for more, turning him into a beast of gluttony when concerning these treats. However he persisted, talking so highly about the cake you were beginning to become intrigued yourself about the delicious gem hidden in the white box on the table. “Alright fine..” you sighed in defeat and allow for your eager boyfriend to drag you out the living room and into your shared kitchen. Something was definitely off, he was eager, excited,...maybe even nervous? His usual demeanor of going with flow and laid back attitude had disappear. He seemed almost like a child getting ready to tell their parents of there recent troubles they’ve gotten into. However, he left no time for you to ponder on his odd behavior, and instead gently pushed the box to you and grins. The box beng small so you was puzzled as to why he was sharing it in the first place. Questioningly you glance to him, before untieing the little red bow on top, and pushing opening the box. A moment of pause, before a soft gasp left you. A bright sapphire as bright as Satoru own eyes stared back at you. The gem being as clear and bright as any beachs ocean gleamering as the kitchen lights shines above. The sliver ring holding the jewel was embedded with little small diamond along the curve of the metal. Giving it a simple yet still elegant finish. You gap to him like fish, gasping for word to form. “S-satoru?!”

You were left speechless and he knew he had outdone himself. Your eyes, so wide that they looked ready to fall out of your sockets as you gasp for sentence or word to fall from your lips.

This cocky little shit was eating up your reaction with the utmost confident air around him. Though it did dispel his nervousness he’s had since he spotted the ring. 

I know right? The strongest being scared? Unheard of, but god was it killing him. He had nothing, robbed of his childhood by the same people that criticize him to this day. His existence used for that to be a tool, looked too at the strongest but was he? Maybe that’s why he felt a need to hid behind his smile, a need to cover up the fucked up shit swelling Internally

He wanted to hide it, but you just couldn’t take no for an answer

You saw past the disguise of his, his cocky and laid back attitude only cushion the many times he’s nearly broken down on a day to day bases. His sweets and little trips only serving as an escape from the cruel world he was born into, from the hurt and betrayal he’s faced.

He loved you so much, and just wanted to make it official. He wants to make it known that you are his, that you are something that he cares deeply about. That the holidays were just days to him until you came around. You turned these days into something special and without you, he wouldn’t find pleasure in this.

“Satoru...are you-.”

“Well? I’m waiting cutie~.” He said back smirking as he rests his chin over your shoulder.

You smile, humming as you examine the ring. “well I’m still quite puzzled mind explaining what you’re trying to say?” You tease and he roll his eyes playfully

“Well sense my little cutie isn’t the sharpest tool in the shed~ I’m asking for you to marry me, now say yes and become mine.” Satoru explained and slide the ring over your ring finger. Glowing at how well it contrasted against you’re skin tone.

He pressed a kiss over the knuckle of the ring finger. “Well if I’m not the sharpest I best be the most well built.” You raise a brow and Satoru grins

“Maybe~.”

“Don’t make me put you outside.”

『𝕐𝕦𝕛𝕚 𝕀𝕥𝕒𝕕𝕠𝕣𝕚』

You peeked over you boyfriends shoulder. His lips presssed together in a fine line as mumbles over the cook book. Little cookie cutters of gingerbread men and snowmen sitting idly by beside him. He was so deeply concentrated in his own work, he hadn’t notice you reaching out and scooping some of the mix onto your finger. “Yuji~.” You called out to him sweelty , your cookie batter, covered finger hidden behind you as you waited for his response . “Oh yeah? What’s-eh!” He turned to face you, smiling till your spread the batter over his nose and cackle in laughter. You jump back, snickering as you pink hair lover went crossed eyed to see the gunck over his nose. Grining you threw up a hand to him and shrugs, “Oops.” He pouts to you and wipes the batter from his nose, “Ah! Babe that not funny, you totally took me by surprise.” He said grabbing the bowel of soft cookie batter , a devilish grin spreading over his lips as he scoops a handful.“That’s the-.” You squeaked as batter came flying at you at rocket launch speed and splat against your shirt. You go wide eyed , and this time, it’s your boyfriend laughing his ass off at your surprises and hurt expressions. “Oh?! This means war pretty boy!” You sneered back to him, both of you eyeing the flower idly laying over the counter. A moment of silence took you both, before chaos was let loose.

Flour, eggs, and whatever condiments you could fine along with cookie batter flew across the kitchen of the apartment. Your laughter and shouts of glee carrying out in the room as you both bounce around like children in the snow

This cookie war ending with both of you near the kitchen doors. Soon enough, having you collapse over the floor in fits of giggles as flour and batter cling to your hair and clothes. Though it did nothing to dampen your sprits, as you both just smile like idiots in each other presence and huff out of breath.

As silly as it may sound, you both just found relief in being in each other presence. Moments like this being few in numbers already with both of your busy lifestyle. As these were the only times that you two weren’t fighting just to live, but to enjoy the life you fought so hard to keep. To be young adults and and enjoy the mundane things that many others would see no joy in. A time where you both could forget the responsibility laid out on you and shrink back to your child like selves again.

For Yuji, you were, In his eyes the greatest gift anyone to give him. He never had lot of people to count on, but for you...you meant the world to him and he wouldn’t know how he survived this long without you.

“Hey...look what we’re under.” Yuji whispered to you, grinning like a lovesick fools as your eyes trail over to the mistletoe hanging lazily from the door frame of the kitchen. A small chuckle left your lips and your glance back to to your eager boyfriend, who was practically ready to pounce on you.

“Oh? Now you want a kiss after ruining my favorite shirt. Clearly I must have become quit the softy.” You teased, but leaned in nonetheless to seal the space between your. Your lips pressed together gently before locking into a sweet kiss. One hand cupping along his cheek while he opt to pull you close to his chest.

Only breaking your contact to pressed another to your temple, “mhm Merry Christmas baby.” He smiles to you

“Yeah, yeah, you owe me a new shirt.”

『𝔽𝕦𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕘𝕦𝕣𝕠 𝕄𝕖𝕘𝕦𝕞𝕚』

Megumi didn’t quit understand your obsession with Christmas. Yes it was quit a fun time of the year with giving and just great things that happen around this time but...it was like any other holiday.

People go out, celebrate, eat, give out some sort of gift with set theme of celebration and party till theirs drunk off their ass. It’s nothing new.

He just wished sometimes you weren’t his weak spot.

“Come on Megumi, I’m sure you’ll look great.” You encouraged as you stood outside your bedroom waiting for your lover. A grunt of distaste was heard from him and you roll your eyes back. “I look like an idiot.” He grumbles from behind the door. Refusing to come out as you huff. “The parties in like 30 minutes, plus we have to catch the train to get there so hurry up.” You told him. It’s silent on the other end before a brief click was heard the door slowly opens. You beam seeing Megumi as he steps out, a loud red sweater with actual ornaments hang off them jingle as he walks by. You stifle your laughter and grin to him, “See was that so hard?” You asked him, snickering under your breath. he grimaced each time he walks and sighs heavily, “you owe me big time for this..” he mumbles, face fix into a that of disgust as once over both of your outfits, “Why did you choose these of all the outfits we could have worn?” He asked you, “Well Nobara and Yuji are all wearing ugly sweaters so we decided to do it as a group things I just found the ugliest ones possible.” You grin to him , taking his hand and dragging your poor green eyed lover. “Y/n I love you, but you seriously trying to kill me from embarrassment.” He groans, earning a laugh from you as you glance back to him. A soft grin already spreading over his lips, though he tried to hid it by turining his face.

He didn’t care for the holidays, but here he was being dragged off to a party celebrating it just to see you smile more and beam in happiness to him. Holidays were once times he spent alone, locked away from the cheerful couples that mocked his loneliness everytime he went out around this year. A time he used to reflect over all the fucked up shit he endure over the year.

When you came into his life, that feeling is bitterness began to melt. He no longer looked to the holiday as bitter reflections on the year but a time that he was able to spend with the person he cared the most with.

Yes he still got caught up in his thought and things he could’ve done and what he should’ve done, but now he had your gently touch to lure him back to the present. To keep his focus on the time that’s in front of him, you were the rock he always needed and no gift could ever replace that.

“Megumi thank you, for coming with me. I know this is out your comfort zone and all but I’m really proud of you.” You told him grinning back to him as you pecks his cheek and grabbed hold of his hand. His large palm taking yours and squeezing it back as he nods, “it’s nothing.” He says back shaking his head. His soft green orbs finding their way back to your face as he sighs. “I’m only going so you want kill me later on so I better be getting something out of this.” He smirked

“I can always grab that collar? Oh you know what I think it’ll go great with the sweater!” You said excitedly

“N-never mind...wait y/n please I was just playing!”

『ℕ𝕠𝕓𝕒𝕣𝕒 𝕂𝕦𝕘𝕚𝕤𝕒𝕜𝕚』

You love the holidays just like the next the person..but Nobara, took holiday shopping to an entire new level

You go into the mall at sunrise and won’t return until the streets light have gone out. Gifts were stack on top of gifts, with even more being carried by you and her(mostly you). Even though majority of them were clothes for herself and you, you still however came out with weeping wallet and empty bank account.

Which leads you into this predicament every year.

Mountain of gifts, wrapping paper, bows, and tape laid sprawled out over the floor. Your feet being buried under shiny red, green, and blue wrapping paper as you sigh heavily from exhaustion. Your been wrapping all night, and have only got to about half of the gift and stuffed under you’re already bloated tree. Your girlfriend, hunched over your couch as she searched for the tape she recently just drop as she mumbles to herself. “I told you you bought to much...again.” You sigh pulling some masking tape off you’re coffee table and handing it to her. she huffed and grabbing the tape and landing back on the floor as she goes back to wrapping. Her hair was slightly clipped back with reindeer clippings, allowing to see her cute little pout as she puffed out her cheek In deep concentration. Smiling you walk over to her and settle down beside her. Head leaning on her shoulder as she finished off the last of her load. “what?” She asked, glancing back to you. “Nothing...you just...look so cute all concentrated like that.” You teased reaching over and pinching at her cheek. “I’m always cute darling~.” She sneered back and swat your hand away playful as she grins slightly. You giggle and wrap you arms around her and rest your chin over her shoulder. She hands the box over to you and you turn and place it under the tree. “Hot coco break?” You suggest, “God yes.” Nobara answer back and you both retreat into the kitchen.

The Christmas spirit never really possessing her like others, she selfishly though of herself and only looked forward to the receiving of holiday. Though you came and shattered that little mindset of hers.

It’s been like that since you came into her life. Pushing her pass her limits and getting her to open up more and more. Her normal confident and brash attitude she gives others, melt away when you gaze to her. Her heart goes ramming into her chest and tightening her throat

You had no idea how much of affect you had on her, the holidays a time she looked forward too. Knowing you’ll be by her side singing those annoying Christmas carols or bouncing around like child to bake some Christmas treats

Her gifts now, being about 1/4 for you and the rest for her but I guess some things can’t entirely change others.

“Babe? Who are all those gifts for anyway?” You question

“Me, and about two or three for you.” Nobara answered while sipping over her hot coco. You sigh in defeat

“Y-you never change..”

[deejadabbles]

Parkside Confessions (Yami x Reader drabble)

Due to upheavals in my personal life I’ve been unable to write much of anything for several months, so, to help get back into the swing of things I figured I’d make some presents for some people I appreciate here on tumblr. You could also say these are very very, very, very late Christmas gifts. The first one is for @readerinsertfanfiction​ who is not only an amazing writer and someone I admire, but also someone who wrote me a couple fantastic drabbles not long ago.

I know it’s February but I set this during spring time because I’m desperate for winter to be over before I break my ankle on ice while walking to work bc why not. I also kinda tried to give this a Not Quite Unrequited vibe while still making it it’s own thing, so hopefully you like it, Rif <3

Yugi took note of the way his brother was holding himself; arms crossed tight over his chest, eyes locked firmly on the ground, and lips pursed in a pout unlike any he had seen on Yami before. Yugi was struggling between wanting to laugh and actually feeling sympathy for his big brother.

Instead, the younger man put a comforting hand on Yami’s shoulder, “Hey, you don’t have to be so nervous! Just think of it like any other conversation, you guys have talked a million times before!”

He was glad to feel Yami’s muscles relax a little under his hand, though it only really served to make Yami start shifting his feet in a one-step dance of restlessness. Fidgeting was rare sign in Yami and Yugi fully started to appreciate how shot his nerves must be.

“But this isn’t just any other conversation, Aibou,” Yami muttered and if the sounds of nature in the park were any louder, Yugi might not have heard him. “I’ve practiced what I might say in my mind for over a week, yet I still feel no more prepared to say it face to face than I did two weeks ago.”

That made sense, Yami always did his best thinking on his feet. He was amazing at plans and strategies, but this wasn’t exactly the same as putting good card combinations in your Duel Monster’s deck.

Yugi felt his lips curl into a frown as he turned and peeked out from behind the line of trees they were conveniently settled behind. As always when the weekend weather was nice (and the gang had no plans to hang out) you were there, enjoying the outdoors as you worked on your tablet. Your usual bench was a bit isolated from the main part of the park, set off in the grass some ways away from the play ground and flat field others frolicked through. It was also surrounded by a spattering of trees, so a thick umbrella of leaves protected you from the sun, though your favorite hat did that job well enough. This was the third time Yami had passed through the park when you were here- only to powerwalk passed you without so much as a wave or awkward hello, despite his previous intentions of stealing some one-on-one time with you. 

Living up to the ‘ray of positivity’ title his friend’s bestowed upon him, Yugi quickly though of a solution to get Yami over there and under those trees with you. “Okay, new plan. What ever you’ve been practicing in your head- forget it, throw it out!”

Yami finally lifted his eyes from the uneven grass to blink at him, “What?”

Yugi grabbed his brother by the arm and started tugging, “You always come up with your best plans in the spur of the moment, so stop overthinking what you’re going to say and just go over there! It’ll come to you when you need it, I’m sure!” Yami’s eyes went wide as Yugi actually started (gently) shoving him in the direction of your spot. 

“Aibou, I-”

“No buts!”

“I didn’t say but!”

“Just get over there!”

Another shove with surprising strength behind it and Yami was stumbling out into the open. You hadn’t noticed, him being too far away and you too engrossed in your tablet. Yami stood frozen, like a cat caught climbing the curtains, until he let out a breath and stood straighter. That literal push was helpful, and just like other points in his life, Yami found strength in his brother’s encouragement. He could do this, it wasn’t like talking to you was anything new! It would be fine if he could forget the fact that this was the only time you two had spent alone...and push exactly why he was wanting to talk with you alone to the back of his mind.

Yami watched your bench for a moment, felt himself smile at how at peace you looked. When the breeze picked up and swept through the park, he saw the way it caught and lifted the strands of your hair. Your eyes closed against nature’s intrusion as you tucked some flowing strands behind your ear and Yami felt something warm and fluttering swell in his chest at the almost cinematic sight. That bubbly heat wasn’t new to him, he had actually grown quite accustomed to it the last few weeks. Warmth clawing up his neck and face when you smiled at him, head feeling light and stupid the few times he managed to get a laugh from you, how he wanted bury himself in the moments where you talked about your passions with that look in your eyes. All of these were signs even he couldn’t ignore. 

He had tried, gods had he tried, but he hadn’t managed it for long, he couldn’t. Couldn’t deny the way his eyes followed you like a smitten school boy, or how he scowled in disappointment (and perhaps a drop of jealousy) when he couldn’t snatch the seat next to you, nor how he longed for you to look back at him with similar feelings hidden in your gaze.

With another deep breath, Yami finally moved his feet in something other than nervous fidgeting. He could practically feel Yugi’s eyes on his back as he took strong and sure strides towards you. He passed a young couple on a walk as his mind worked through encouraging words. He tucked his hand in his pockets for a bit of security when he thought of how you would look up at him and greet him in your usually fashion. He took more calming breaths as even that mild imagery made his face heat up. He was closing in on you now, all he had to do was call out and wave and he would be one step closer to everything he had been planning and-

And without breaking stride Yami spun on his heel in a sharp U turn, stormed for a few hot-faced paces, and planted his butt firmly on a bench that was definitely not yours.

He was staring forcefully at the ground again, lips tight in annoyance, and fists clenched over his knees so tight the knuckles were already whitening. He knew he heard Yugi’s voice carried to him on the wind, but at the moment his mind was too busy scolding his love-struck cowardice.

Back in their hiding spot, Yugi huffed, wishing his beloved brother was in reach for a good shaking. “For the love of...”

Now, Yugi was not usually one for acting on impulse, but seeing his brother look so frustratingly hesitant made him act on the first plan that came to mind. Yami just needed a little push, that’s all.

Yugi ran out into the field, put his hands around his mouth like a megaphone, and in the best possible impersonation of his brother’s baritone he could muster, he yelled your name.

On the lonely bench, Yami’s heart sank when he heard a voice (trying to sound like his??) shout your name so loudly it carried across he park. His head snapped up in time to see Yugi retreating back to their previous hiding spot, darting out of sight- but not before the young man flashed him a thumbs up.

A few choice words to hurl at his brother ran through his mind, before Yami heard the voice that made a fresh wave of bubbly heat start in his chest.

“Yami? Is that you?”

Taking an almost audible gulp, Yami turned his head towards you sitting not far across the field. He prayed his dark skin would hide the blush he knew was scorching his face.

“Hello,” the tone was flat and awkward as he lifted his hand in an equally awkward gesture. 

You didn’t seem to mind, or maybe you did and were trying to spare him further embarrassment, because you nodded in greeting with a half smile. “I wasn’t expecting to see you here.”

“I was- I” Yami cleared his throat in a hurry, “I was just taking a walk.” Somehow through the haze of panic and mortification he managed to stand up and start walking towards you. Of course he noted how his legs felt like jelly and his stride was likely very odd looking as he closed the distance. “I see you’re enjoying the nice day,” he observed, scrambling for any start to a conversation.

You nodded, “Just until it gets too hot anyway, we won’t have many more cool day like this with summer getting closer.”

“Right. I’m sure Anzu will try to get us to go to the water park when it gets hot.”

When you huffed in bemused laughter he felt some of his tension ease, especially when you said, “Probably, so I’m definitely going to enjoy the spring days while I can. Hey, you want to sit down?”

He found his lips lifting in a smile as you scooted over a bit and patted the newly freed spot beside you. He took it, glad to give his jelly legs a rest, though they were getting better with every passing moment.

“What are you working on? If you don’t mind me asking.”

And just like that you two fell into easy conversation. It didn’t take long for Yami to forget that he was alone with you for the first time, in a nice private setting. Rather it felt like any other day: you and the rest of the gang coming over for an anime marathon, all of you going to the arcade, or playing Monster World at Ryou’s house. It was...simple. Well, almost, but it was getting easier with every word and sentence. 

Of course, he eventually realized that the words to tell you the deeper things in his heart weren’t coming, like Yugi thought they would. Yami wasn’t even able to conjure up the speech he had planned when he took a second to think about it.

Then again, maybe it just wasn’t the right time. Maybe this was all he needed for now. Some time between the two of you, one on one. Something simple, though no less special. Something to help ease him into the things he wanted to say someday.

Yes, this was more than enough right now. He could tell you those deeper feelings held in his heart another day, right now he was more than content to sit by your side and enjoy your smile, your voice, and your company.

[halcyon-writings]

favored - ichigo/m!reader

requested: yes (anonymous)

note(s); An attempt on something other than a gender neutral reader, i also deleted the ask on accident so if this isn’t exactly to the prompt anon my apologies!! feel free to send something in my ask box if you want me to like re do it or smth, jealous berry manTM 

a continuation can be found here!

all my other links are in my pinned post for mobile users and linked on my sidebar for desktop users!

if you’d like to support me and my writing, please consider buying me a kofi!

Ichigo Kurosaki is aware of many things. Some more keenly than others. 

He knew that for a long time, the main thing occupying his mind was his duties as the Substitute Shinigami. Rarely time for any leisure out of it unless he was lucky. 

But then you came along. A boy in his grade who’s smile dazzled everyone, even him. It never occurred to him that you’d like him, since it always seemed like you had your own little crowd surrounding you outside of class. 

Popular as you were, admired by your peers and underclassman alike. Favored by and charming everyone you met. 

The meeting had been by chance after all. You had told him that you let your underclassmen leave early, cleaning up from practice before heading home. Only to be attacked by a hollow. 

Laying helplessly on the pavement out as you felt yourself bleeding out. Panic in your eyes but no, not for yourself, for him when he had parried and pushed the hollow back. 

You try to hold him back, but your grip already is faltering, you speak in half sentences.

“Please don’t- that thing- that thing-” You beg, eyes suddenly burning.

The look on his face is determined, as he holds you up, arm around your shoulders and close to his chest. Later he’ll never be able to live it down as Rukia teases him about it, burying his face into one of his pillows while he throws another at her, only for it to pass through the Shinigami anyway. 

“I got you,” He promises, “You’ll be okay.”

Ichigo was equally as panicked when you had lost consciousness. It took a lot for him to leave you as his friends would handle taking care of you, while he fought off the hollow easily enough. Only to return to your bedside as soon as he was done. It was a shallow wound but, the blood just continued to flow, it was a sight he never wanted to see again. 

With disappointment clenching around his heart, Ichigo lets himself believe it’d be the last time the two of you spoke to one another. 

Only for you of course to throw all his expectations out the window. Joining his friend group like you had been there since the beginning. Conversations flowing with ease as you talked and laugh among them. You still had your friends from the team and in general, but Ichigo always felt warm whenever you would join them all on the rooftop during lunch break. 

He pointedly ignores Orihime’s knowing smile, as his face involuntarily flushes whenever he sees you, as he admires you from afar rather than participating in the conversation, the usual broody look, as Keigo put it, on his face.

Then your powers had manifested. 

If Ichigo needed any more reason to like respect you, this only added onto the list. 

It’s Ichigo who introduces you to Urahara, a way to help you get used to the suddenly new developments your powers brought on. Yoruichi helping, but also ruffling Ichigo’s hair when she promised that neither she nor Kisuke would keep his beau for too long.

Ichigo’s face burns as Yoruichi cackles.

Only this time it feels like he’s on fire when the day comes that you confess about how you feel about him, the usual way you hold yourself, confident, ready,is gone, replaced by a boy who can’t meet his eyes without your own expression becoming flustered.

Scratch that, he feels like he’s on fire when you kiss him. Hands grasping his uniform jacket. And when he kisses you back, he feels only warmth.

Ichigo is aware of a few things. The way your personality has anyone gravitating towards you as soon as you meet, and the fact that his heart feels like it’ll burst the second you look at him with the same fond smile that’s especially meant for him and him alone. 

He didn’t mind, after all, your social battery seemed never ending. What he didn’t expect was for the first time you go to the Soul Society, is for many to gravitate towards you, much like in the World of the Living.

Jealousy curls around his heart, a feeling he tries to ignore, but when Rangiku or Renji end up tugging you away each time he brings you with him, or how you and Byakuya have tea sometimes, tea! When you ask whats wrong he gives a half hearted smile, assuring that things are fine. Things are not fine.

It’s the traitorous voice in his head remidning him that you’re much better at him at a lot of thing. You could have had anyone in the world.

“Ichigo?” Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts, your book in your lap as you scribbled away at some assignment he knew he wasn’t in the mood to do anytime soon.

He hums in response.

“You okay? And don’t say you’re fine, I know you aren’t,” You add immediately, and Ichigo’s shoulders slump. Well, he never could actually lie to you in the first place. 

Only for him to end up spilling everything about how he had been feeling about your popularity both in the living world and the Soul Society. How his own doubts made it no less helpful. 

You place your workbook down, carefully folding a corner of the page as you close it so you don’t lose your place. Before beckoning Ichigo over. He rises from the desk chair and plops unceremoniously on the bed, which you can’t help but laugh. He sends you an annoyed look, but it isn’t one with any real heat behind it.

Making a surprised sound as you all but pull him to lay down in your lap, your hand running through his surprisingly soft hair, you lean down, pressing a kiss to his forehead. 

Ichigo is currently aware of one thing. You may have been favored and vied for by many. But your gaze never left his. Not even for a second. He was at ease.

[snapefiction]

Phases of the Moon Pt.1  - Snapeficition

A/N: This one is something I kept in my drafts for some time now but kind of still really like so I spontaneously wanted to post it. I hope you like it!

❤️ Please remember that English isn’t my native language and that my Writings will include Mistakes and maybe weird formed sentences. ❤️

Word count: 1321

Pairing: Severus Snape x Orphan!Y/N Flitwick

TW: Struggling Mental Health, Mention of Addiction, Mention of Torture

Phases of the Moon Pt.1

,,Are you even paying Attention, Severus?" Looking up he felt his burning, watery eyes paining him.

,,Yes, of course, Headmaster." He hasn't slept in days. To be exact in literally 68 hours which lead him to slowly going mental.

,,I know it's a lot but remember your promise-" Dumbledore started but Severus just nodded panicking.

,,Yes I am listening. I am listening." Almost begging he sat up again and wiped over his face to gain the imagination of wiping away his tiredness.

,,You made this promise."Dumbledore stated before continuing about his next Plan. Hours later after he prepared everything for his next Mission which would in conclusion would lead to his final death one day he fell onto his bed. His hammering Head wasn't shutting up. 73 Hours. Three days and one hour and he couldn't sleep? Ironic. Usually he liked staying awake for so long. Sometimes his paranoia took over and he forgot everything for a while. His body shut down so much that he finally could forget his degrading reality. But not tonight. Thinking about just taking a sleeping potion he quickly cancelled that idea. He took it way too often. He slowly became addictive to the magical relief. A walk would eventually do it, he deeply hoped.

Dragging himself through the corridors he had the feeling of not being a human anymore. Was he anything at all at this point? The Years of being a double agent left their traces and marks. Physically but also mentally. His Body aged quickly, leaving him in constant pain. But his mental pain was much worse. Having multiple panic attacks on the daily were just some of the milder things.

Thinking back to the first time he witnessed the dark Lord torturing someone he felt his stomach turning around. The screams still echoed in his ears and the imagine hunted him down in his sleep. It was cruel.

,,Severus? Are you alright?" A voice which wasn't more than a whisper made his head shoot up. Forgetting his thoughts trying to cope with the situation he nodded. Y/N Flitwick. Filius niece stood in front of him. His eyes had trouble identifying her as they had developed a film of tears.

,,Oh dear..."

-Y/N -

Wandering down the corridors you hoped no one would spot you as you tried to sneak out. You had trouble falling asleep during this phase of the moon and decided to get your mind off this stress somehow.

Hearing footsteps nearing you quickly casted Nox to stay undercover but as you discovered a familiar face you quickly casted Lumos again. His dark hair wasn't flowing anymore it were strands and his eyes weren't reflective but hallow and dull. All in all he seemed to be not well  but like a living dead.

,,Severus? Are you alright?" As if he hasn't noticed you yet he quickly looked up but his eyes darted through you processing the sight. A weak nod was followed by a small sigh as he lowered his wand he held up as well to light his way.

,,Oh dear..." His hands were shaking so much you wondered if he was having a incident or got attacked. Pity bid your heart and you sorted your endless thoughts for a second. Racing one after one you stopped as you had a merge plan on how to continue as Severus didn't seem to be very approachable.

,,Severus, do you need help? I can guide you to Madame Pomfrey any second."

,,No." His voice was so silent you almost mistook it for your thoughts.

,,Do you need something?" Shifting in your shoes his presence made you feel tired too.

,,If it's not too much to ask- some company?" For a spare second a small smile crept up your face. Severus wasn't able to keep his eyes properly open but asked for you to accompany him. Nodding you agreed stuttering.

,,Of course. I was on my way to the old Astronomy Tower. Would you like to follow me?"

,,Lead the way." He cleared his throat slightly. Tugging your Coat tighter around yourself you made sure that Severus was still following and alright. Of course just from the distance and quietly but you could tell that he was thankful to not be alone anymore. Which was quite odd since you got to know to a dark, powerful, and mysterious man and not the one who was so weak you feared that he’d fall over any second.

After taking the last few steps you sighed as you spotted the overview. This Place always made you feel safe and hidden. Sitting down The small steps You signed Severus to do the same. His tall figure just sank down on his own. He looked around, his whole presence seemed to relax and a small smile was visible just for a moment.

His Shoulder leaned against the stone wall and his knees were still close to his chest. He wasn't really sitting but crouching. Somehow he was looking peaceful just now. Eyes flickering he quickly drove off to a deep slumber. Would anyone believe you if you told them that the feared Professor just fell asleep next to you? Probably not. The strange feeling that something wasn't right didn't let you go so you didn't dared to move or read the book that rested on the inside of your jacket pocket.  You just watched the sky through the tall ceiling and imagined what a life at Hogwarts must be like.

Visiting your Uncle over the Holidays was always fun as you haven't grew up in the Magical world but as a Muggle. Learning late about you magical heritage you almost felt overwhelmed by this new world laying down to your feet. Filius quickly offered to teach you as often as he found some time which was just the case Right now again. Small Spells like Lumos and Nox were easy for you but still you struggled with Charms in General like the whole understanding of this world. The only person who never seemed to talk down on you was Severus. He picked you up on your first Holiday in Hogsmead and lead you to Filius. Severus wasn't very talkative but a good listener. And somehow it made you feel like he understood. Not the Charms Disaster , as how your Uncle called it, but the whole Situation on it's own. 

Whenever Severus noticed how much you struggled and how Filius was close to throw his wand at you he invited you gently to a Potions Lesson which included drinking tea and reading notes that Severus collected to each Potion from the Textbook. He was a Saviour on it's own. You've spent so much time with him and still didn't knew anything about himself. Hogwarts was a weird Place sometimes. Not to mention the Wizards and Witches living there.

Discovering that you had a second Uncle who introduced you to your greatest Fairytales was impressive. Born without a family and after so many years getting dragged into another world was - let's call it a lot.

So it happened very often that you had to flee somewhere no one would look after you. The small spot on the steps at the Astrology Tower hid you well like a secret. That's why you thought Severus would appreciate it too. Looking down on him you saw that his head sunk down low. Deep breaths left his lungs and as some air strikes his slim figure you took of your Coat to cover him. At first he shivered but then continued to sleep. Maybe you could give him back some of the trustful feeling he offered you some time ago? You really hoped so. But for now the figures of the two of you were consumed by the Phases of the Moon. And this is how it began. Slow but steady. How your loyal friendship started and how trust bonded.

to be continued. 15.April.21

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