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eletricheart · 1 year

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The Best Day

(Donna Beneviento x Reader)

*image creds to owner

Word count: 794

I thought of this story while listening to The Best Day and Mastermind by Taylor Swift.

It's on how even though you didn't have any friends in your town it was still possible to find someone who you'd have your best days with.

ps: songs are at the end

ps2: not proofread, pls lmk any mistakes

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No one wanted to play with you as a little kid, so you started to plan every interaction to make others love you. It worked for a while, but as much as you had them during school, you were still never past colleagues.

This situation stretched all the way to adulthood. You were alone, not always lonely, but still just you.

As a result of being ignored for a big part of your life, you knew most of the forest since it was your special hideout.

The day was a difficult one, you had invited your neighbors for a small night out and they claimed to be busy. You believed them, until seeing the group together at a tavern.

So you walked, and walked, past the known paths, just ahead. You only took notice of your surroundings once reaching a small grave. At first you thought of running, after all there were many stories of House Beneviento, but you stayed…and talked.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

It started simple, a short one sided conversation. Then, as the week passed by you made more visits, always paying your respects and talking.

You've always noticed the dolls, especially when more started to show. They didn't move, just remained scattered and sitted, as if listening.

You got used to it, slowly forgetting the neighbors and finally stopping to care for the villagers. Instead, you focused all of your energy in little gifts for the dolls that were keeping you company.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Angie introduced herself first, jumping in your head as you walked towards the simple clearing. In all honesty, you were frightened for the next few days, but eventually started to love the doll, even learning how to sew to make dresses for her.

Lady Angie, as you call her, was the one who led you to the house. It took a month and a lot of convincing but nothing a tea party couldn't solve.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Donna usually just observed you from afar, making sure no lycans bothered your walk. Her interference started to follow you into the village, the dollmaker would claim she was just ensuring your safety.

She would notice how most people wouldn't talk to you, not even in greetings. This dismissal made her mad, how could they ignore you, you were always so kind, so cheerful, it didn't make any sense.

So, Donna decided to greet you. It began with a nod until it slowly turned into shy 'hello'.

Once the first words were spoken, the lady felt more comfortable staying around you. She would laugh at your jokes, go on short walks with you, anything you offered the dollmaker would accept with an excited nod.

You, of course, felt the greatest pride when she laughed, even making mental notes to find jokes in similar themes. During the walks you constantly tried to read Donna's body language, memorizing which paths she enjoyed.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Your first conversation was on a rainy saturday. The village was having a party to celebrate the healthy harvest. You rarely attended, finding no joy in spending the night alone in public.

However, this time, you visited Donna. It wasn't an usual visit day but you figured she wouldn't mind, Angie always seemed so insistent in trying to make you stay anyway.

The dollmaker was confused with your arrival, but happy nonetheless. She rushed to make some tea and leave her dolls presentable for you.

It was a few hours into your visit, you were both sitting on the couch watching the rain.

Donna was a bit anxious, she didn't want to ruin your night with her questions, but she was so curious. "Why…why did you come?" She asked, with her head down.

You turned your head to look at her. "I guess I didn't want to be alone." You shrugged, afraid she found you annoying.

The dollmaker took a deep breath. "Why me?" She asked again, fidgeting with her fingers.

You smiled kindly. "My best days are with you, I couldn't possibly choose anyone else."

She nodded, slowly. "I'm…happy with you around."

Your smile grew wider. "I'm happy with you too, and Angie of course."

Donna laughed and laid her head on your shoulder.

𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊

Your visits became more recurring, the walks were now made with holding hands, the jokes were now followed with a counter one, even Angie joined into plan making, tho her daily schedules involved more hide and seek than you've played in your entire life.

Donna asked you to live with her a few days later…well…she didn't exactly ask. Angie screamed at you when it was time to leave and threatened to lock you in her room. Therefore, the dollmaker had to interfere and ask you more calmly if you wished to stay with her.

And you said yes.

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masterlist

#resident evil village #re8 #non canon #resident evil #fanfic #donna beneviento #lady angie #lady beneviento #lady beneviento x reader #re8 donna #donna beneviento x reader #re8 fanfiction #re8 fic #angie re8 #resident evil fluff #resident evil 8 #resident evil fandom #resident evil fanfiction #Spotify

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thepenultimateword · 2 years

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May I request a continuation of 'Second Love' pls???😳

Part One, Part Two

"Hello, darling."

Villain gave the headstone a fond pat before gathering the withered violets from their vase and tossing the old, browning water onto a neighboring grave. He set the vase back in its spot, marked by the brown ring left behind on the stone, and plopped the fresh bouquet in the old one's place.

"Sorry it's been a couple months." He unscrewed the cap of his water bottle and filled the vase halfway with cold, clear water, adjusting a few stems until the flower arrangement was good enough for Other Superhero's resting place. "I've been busy with the power inhibitor. And guess what? It's almost done. Just a few more bugs to work out, and I'll be ready. So. Cross your fingers for me up there, eh?" He chuckled weakly, leaning forward on the balls of his feet to bundle up the old flowers into his hands. They crinkled in his twisting fingers.

"What's that?" Villain said as a light breeze hissed past his ears and carried away a few crumbled petals. Sometimes it was easier to pretend a conversation than to just sit here and stare at the grave. "Anything else new? Well, remember that really annoying hero I told you about a while back? The stupidly determined one? Well, she's still coming around. I think she's actually invincible. I threw a brick at her head the other day. A brick! She didn't even flinch. In fact, she broke my brick."

Villain sighed, throwing back his head to look at the wisps of clouds overhead.

"She's such a mess: clumsy, awkward, never admitting to her mistakes. Even when she wins it’s an accident. I don’t even know how she passed the exam. …I suppose she does have the rare quality of never giving up. No matter what I say or how hopeless it gets, she keeps trying. And she has a good heart. Even if she’s bought into the agency’s garbage, she wants to do the right thing. And…”

A smile had begun spreading up Villain’s jaw but he quickly quashed it, a stab of guilt lurching his stomach.

"I’m sorry. Is this weird? I know it's only been two years. For some people, that's a long time, and for others, it's no time at all...and...I love you so much." Villain hung his head. How should he continue? What was he actually getting at? Whatever it was, it seemed a dangerous thing to put into words. A dangerous, traitorous thing.

"I’m not saying I have feelings for her," he clarified quickly. "I barely know her. And our plan is and always will be my top priority. But…sometimes, when she’s around…I don’t ache so much.” He sighed heavily, rubbing his palms into eyes long dried of useless tears. “I don't want to make the wrong choice.”

The wind ruffled villain’s clothes, this time strong enough to tear the dead violets completely out of his hands. They carried halfway across the cemetery and scattered amongst the other headstones.

Villain blandly watched them go, then tipped his head up toward the sky and closed his eyes, letting leftover winds caress his skin.

"I miss you, darling."

***

"Could you not stare like that?" Re-Re said, sliding his dessert protectively out of Hero's line of sight.

Hero cocked her head to the side and summed up a confused expression. "I don't know what you're even talking--" She gave up before the sentence was even through, leaning in closer. "Just one bite?"

Re-Re frowned, successfully battling her unbreaking stare for a full minute before sighing and shoving the plate toward her. "Is this why we have brunch every month? So you can continue to break my spirit?"

Hero snatched up her fork and cut off the front corner of the flan with its edges, scraping up a little syrup off the plate before shoving it happily in her mouth. "Don't be dramatic."

"It's sort of my thing," her ex-nemesis said. "If I'm not going to commit crime anymore, I'm at least going to be a villain in my heart."

As if to punctuate this statement, he waved his hand subtly toward the waitress and her big tray of coffee mugs and juices. The tray re-winded to three seconds beforehand. The waitress did not.

For a single moment, the tray hung in mid-air, the waitress staring at her empty hands in utter disbelief. A moment later, the tray crashed into the ground, shattering glasses and spilling puddles of drinks everywhere.

Re-Re covered his mouth with one hand and cackled quietly to himself.

Hero raised her eyebrows disapprovingly. "Technically, I could write you up."

"For a joke?"

"If a retired villain slips back into crime--"

Re-Re rolled his eyes. "Oh stop being so good all the time. Sir Redo-Rewind is retired. That's that. I'm just scratching an itch." Then, maybe to redirect her attention from him, he said, "How's the new nemesis? Villain, right? Scarier than me?"

Hero smiled. "Never. Just different."

Re-Re slid back his dessert plate. "Be honest, everyone knows Villain is another level. Even us villains. How's it been?"

"Well..."

Sort of embarrassing. Villain didn't stick to any sort of script. He didn't share anything either. In fact, he mostly ignored her unless she got close enough to prompt him into action. When she got this job, she thought it was a big deal. That maybe the agency was finally recognizing that she could do a good job, but now she wondered if she was just keeping Villain distracted from everything he'd rather be doing.

"I don't think his heart's in it," Hero said finally.

"Not all villains buy into theatrics," Re-Re shrugged. "Some honestly just want to do the job. It's nothing to do with you."

Hero knew that. Of course, there were different levels of villains, those who looked for attention and those who actually liked mass havoc, but the issue with Villain was she didn't know what he wanted. Aside from being alone and making machines.

"Ok, yes," she consented, "but honestly, I'm not even sure what I'm stopping. He's always just...sitting there. Tinkering. But the agency says the job requires an everyday raid, so I have to be doing something, right?"

Re-Re shrugged. "I never met Villain personally, too big a fish for my pond, but I mean, the agency killed his wife. So yeah, I don't think he's just sitting around. Villains aren't exactly in the habit of forgiving."

"What?"

"Oh it's a whole thing: 'Stab a villain in the eye, and all you're life you'll be blind.' Basically, whatever you do, we'll bring it back tenf--"

"No, not that," Hero interrupted. "His wife. Other Superhero. I knew she died, but what do you mean the agency killed her?"

"Oh." Re-Re shrugged, scooping up another bite of cake before leaning against the latticed back of his chair. "I don't know the exact details, but it's a big rumor. Basically, Villain had defected to the agency, was doing missions with them and everything. But when he and Other Superhero were sent on a mission together, something went wrong. Other Superhero got hurt, but instead of pulling out, they were told to prioritize the mission. I guess Villain was pretty vocal about turning around but the agency dismissed it as deception. Because of his background, I guess maybe they thought he was lying to help other villains? Anyway, later Superhero was too injured to escape the mission. When Villain was the only one who survived, the other heroes blamed him, even accused him of leaving her to die on purpose."

Hero gaped at Re-Re in shock. The agency... Villain... What?

"B-but the agency always said they got into an accident."

Re-Re shrugged. "I'm only saying what I've heard."

Hero wanted to reject it immediately. There was no way that the agency would force an injured superhero to continue a mission. Even if they hadn't trusted Villain, wouldn't they have trusted Other Superhero? Did Other Superhero bluff about her condition? Or had she begged to be removed too?

If Hero was being honest, there was a lot of pressure for results from the agency. Backing out of a mission or rejecting an assignment was definitely taboo. It got you labeled as weak or in conflict of interest. A strange sense of respect came with almost dying for the cause. And if Other Superhero had been married to a villain, she would have had a lot to prove to her peers.

Hero suddenly felt sick.

Poor Other Superhero.

Poor Villain.

To have his own pain disregarded and be pinned for the whole thing.

"I...I have to go," Hero said.

Re-Re stood up along with her. "I didn't upset you, did I?"

"No. I... There's just something I think I should do."

***

Villain had just slipped his shoes off when a heavy knock on his front door brought them back to the entrance. The last person he expected to see through the peephole was Hero.

What was this? A new tactic? Didn't she ever take a break? Villain really wasn't in the mood to fight right now, but he had a suspicious feeling that ignoring the hero would only prompt her to find another way in, and he was more sick of fixing things.

He swung open the door with a heavy sigh already drifting from his lungs. "Let me tell you upfront, I'm not doing anything villainous today."

Hero gave a small little leap at his abruptness, but it didn't stop her from immediately shoving a massive bouquet into his chest.

Villain blinked at the arrangement of purple hyacinths, zinnias, and lemon balm, taking several moments to register what was happening and grasp the wrapped stems.

"I'm sorry," Hero said, looking up at him with earnest eyes. The look itself wasn't abnormal, they were usually filled with an earnestness to do what was right, but for the first time, that dedication was aimed toward him. "I asked the flower shop to put together something for grieving. I'm not sure what they all mean, but I know zinnias are for absent friends. I didn't really know Other Superhero, and of course, they were more just a friend to you, but I still feel-- Hey, what's wrong. You're really red."

Villain touched one hand to his cheek. Sure enough, his face burned as if on fire. What was Hero thinking, getting him a gift like this? Didn't she see it was too late for grieving flowers? That they could easily be misconstrued as something else? And yet, it might be the nicest thing anyone had done for him in a long time.

"I'm fine," he said quickly, bringing the flowers to his nose to hide the greater portion of his blush. Yes, it was a nice gesture, but why did he have to feel so flustered? "Thank you. D-do you want to come in?"

Villain cringed inwardly as the words left his mouth. He was supposed to be avoiding everything agency related, not inviting it right back into his life. Hero was no exception.

"Oh..." Hero hesitated a moment, but then said, "Sure!"

Villain's heart pounded a little faster as he stepped back and widened the door opening for her to step through. And this time, he could not ignore it.

...

I did it! I finally finished one of my original requests!

Master Taglist:

@moss-tombstone @crazytwentythrees @just-1-lonely-person @the-vagabond-nun @willow-trees-are-beautiful @cocoasprite @insanedreamer7905 @valiantlytransparentwhispers @whovian378 @watercolorfreckles @thebluepolarbear @yulanlavender @kitsunesakii @deflated-bouncingball @lem-hhn @office-plant-in-a-trenchcoat @last-ditch-entry @ghostfacepepper @pigeonwhumps @demonictumble @inkbirdie @vuvulia @bouncyartist @lunatic-moss-studio @breilobrealdi @freefallingup13 @i-am-a-story-goblin @ryunniez @rainy-knights-of-villainy @distractedlydistracted

#hero x villain #writing snippet #creative writing #heroes and villains #villain #heroes and villains community #fiction #second love #villain x hero #hero and villain

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aziraphales-library · 1 year

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Hello! I just recently found out about this blog and I wanna say thanks because this has kept me entertained for hours. I’m wondering if there are any similar fanfictions like “Digging For Gold” by WorseOmens where people loves Aziraphale and they think that Crowley is taking advantage of him or something like that. Preferably outsider pov but it doesn’t have to be. Thanks so much!!

Hi! We recommended some assumed sugar daddy fics here (including Digging For Gold) which are the kind of fics you’re after, so please check that post out. Do also take a look at our #outsider pov tag, as a lot of those are based around assumptions and misunderstandings of some kind. I can’t find any more specifically about taking advantage, but here are a couple of outsider POV fics in which negative assumptions are made against either Crowley or Aziraphale...

a grave mistake by asideofourown (T)

Essa grinned, leaned forward. “I think that Mr. Fell’s husband is a vampire!” That pronouncement got immediate and violent reactions from both of her friends.

“What?” Rory screeched.

At the same time, Sev exclaimed, “That’s not possible!”

“Did he try to drink your blood?” Rory asked eagerly, leaning forward onto her hands.

“Nah,” Essa replied, not wanting to admit that that hadn't even occurred to her.

“Then, what?” Sev demanded. “Why d’you think he’s a vampire?”

“He dresses all in black,” Essa explained with the air of someone very wise generously dispensing their wisdom. “And everyone knows that only vampires dress all in black. And he was wearing sunglasses indoors, probably on account of his vampire mind-control powers. And he was sleeping during the day, which was prolly cuz vampires are nocturnal. And he has fangs. Saw ‘em myself. There’s obviously no other explanation, ‘cept he’s a vampire.”

[Some of Crowley and Aziraphale's new neighbors get the wrong impression]

Caffeine Eden by WanderingAlice (G)

The proprietor of a small coffee shop next to Aziraphale's bookshop has opinions about Mr. Fell, other opinions about Mr. Crowley. They aren't exactly the opinions one would expect.

Blacks Coffees and Hot Chocolates by StarlightPhoenix (G)

Since opening her coffeeshop in Soho, Jess had a few regulars. Anthony came in every day and ordered one black coffee and one hot chocolate. They were Jess' favorite regular.

Mr. Fell, on the other hand, was her least favorite regular. He was rude, he insulted her scones, and she was sure he was mafia.

She didn't realize that her sweet Anthony was with that nasty Mr. Fell.

- Mod D

#good omens #ineffable husbands #outsider pov #assumptions #misunderstandings #mod d

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prstmmprhdl · 5 months

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Hello. I’m just a friendly neighbor who can’t but write about art and art related stuff. But! I’ve made a grave mistake: there are too many of mes.

Just on tumblr there’s

@podcasttrash359 where I talk about one of my all time favorite medium - fiction podcasts.

@animeisforanimation dedicated to animation obviously. But also manga.

And @prstmmprhdl that is supposed to be main, but I’m not even sure what to talk about here anymore, hah.

And there are also all the stuff on other sites from Instagram to telegram *deep sigh*. Why am I scattered all over the place like that?

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ase-trollplays · 8 months

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Things Left Unsaid

Despite two and a half sweeps having passed, Mareth's grave still stood where Thiomi and Corali left it. The land had reclaimed the disturbed ground as thick wild grass and weeds grew where the blueblood was buried, and the makeshift headstone was covered in plant overgrowth from sweeps of neglect. It was doubtful anyone just passing through would have even realized it was there if they hadn't already known to look for it.

Thiomi could feel a knot the size of a brick form in her stomach as she laid her eyes on it. What a sorry state it was in. That alone was enough to bring tears to her eyes. How dare she let her late moirail's grave fall into such ruin. Just further proof that she never deserved her if she couldn't even fight off her guilt enough to keep her resting place presentable. With a sigh, she got to work pulling the weeds and cleaning the large, upright rock that symbolized her headstone. The shallow, unrefined carving of Mareth's name was long faded and barely visible now, but it didn't have to be visible. Thiomi knew it was there, if not physically then in spirit.

It took well over an hour to bring her grave to its former glory, and Thiomi looked it over with a mixture of pride and guilt before taking a seat before it and removing a bagged lunch from her sylladex.

"Hello, Mareth. It's been... a while. I'm s-sorry I never came back after burying you. Considering the circumstances of your death, I didn't think I deserved to. I was s-sure you wouldn't want me here, either."

She removed a thermos from the bag, wisps of steam gently trickling out as she removed the lid and poured some of the potato soup into the cap to sip. The knot in her stomach hadn't budged since she arrived, but she forced the soup down regardless.

"I wish I could s-say a lot's changed in the time you've been gone, but... it really hasn't. At least, I haven't changed much. I made s-sure all your cats went to loving homes, s-so you can rest easy knowing they're being taken care of. ... My matesprit and I are s-still raising Varoll. I wish I'd gotten to introduce you to her; you would have gotten along really well, I think.

"S-Sonja and I are on better terms. His less s-stable half has a matesprit now, s-so he's not interested in me anymore. He bullies me if we happen to cross paths, but I've accepted he's always going to hate me. The other half and I decided to be friends. I'm nervous, but I think we can pull it off, especially s-since he has his own moirail now. I don't know much about her, but s-she s-seems really good for him, so I'm glad.

"I also enrolled in therapy. I've learned a lot about myself... and it's all bad. I have s-so many things wrong with me, things I already knew and... and s-so much I wasn't aware of. Heh, I'm a real mess."

Thiomi took another sip of her soup and wiped her eyes to get rid of the tears forming.

"Corali and I aren't s-speaking anymore. I know you two never got along, and you hated being neighbors with her, but you have a lot more in common than either of you realized. You could have been amazing friends. I know it's not your fault that never happened. Corali hates highbloods too much, especially bluebloods, unfortunately.

"It's my own fault my friendship with Corali ended. S-she came to me for help with her alcoholism, and... and I took advantage of her s-situation for my own gain. S-she reminds me s-so much of you, and before I knew it, I was trying to replace you with her.

"You're both alcoholics, but s-she was trying to quit. S-something I begged and pleaded for you to do. All the help I tried to do for you -- Trying to make you cut down on your drinking, giving you locations and times for Alcoholics Anonymous meetings, making you promise me you would try to get better -- she took it without question.

"At s-some point, it s-stopped being about helping her and became a way of atoning for my mistakes with you."

Tears fell into her cap of soup, which she clenched in her hands and gripped like it was her life support. Pitiful whines and hiccups escaped her as she let herself weep. Thiomi didn't try to stop the tears from falling or wipe them away and instead allowed herself to wallow in utter misery.

"I never moved on from causing your death. Two and a half s-sweeps later, and it s-still hurts. It s-still hurts like it did when we found your body that night. I keep replaying that night wishing I could go back and s-stop myself, and that I would have been more patient with you instead of constantly nagging and pressuring and pushing you to do what I wanted for your own good. I s-should have let it be your choice on your own terms. I s-should have been patient and respected your autonomy.

"I was a bad moirail, and you paid the price for it. I don't know if I can ever forgive myself for that.

"But..."

She forced herself to straighten up, sniff back her tears, and wipe her eyes. She looked up for the first time since she took a seat and stared at Mareth's headstone.

"... I know I can't keep s-staying here, s-stuck in the past wishing things could be different. You're gone because of mistakes that I made, and I have to make peace with that and move on. The grief may never truly go away, but I can't let it hold me back anymore."

With a sigh, Thiomi poured her half-eaten soup back into the thermos and placed it back in the bag with the water bottle and the orange she ended up not touching. She placed the meal back into her sylladex and stood to walk up to the headstone. She knelt down in front of it and tightly wrapped her arms around it in a tearful embrace.

"I... I'm s-sorry. I'm s-so... I'm s-so s-sorry. I'll never be able to apologize enough, and I'll never not be s-sorry. I can't change the past, but I can do better not to repeat my mistakes. That's how I'll do right by you."

She stayed silently weeping and hugging the rock for several minutes before she finally let go. She gave the makeshift headstone one last look before standing up and starting to walk away.

"I promise I won't take another two and a half s-sweeps to s-see you again."

#things to read #Thiomi Shiaka #The Weight of our Sins #She made peace with Sonja (Tragedy)#now to make peace with Mareth

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cassieuncaged · 1 year

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Grave Bound - Chapter 13

Chapter 12

Summary: The future excites Maggie while Elias is wary.

TW: angst, weed, language, etc.

WC: 2.1 K

A/N: boy is about to make a mistake and it pains me to have to write it...

Taglist: @roofgeese, @detectivelokis, @areyenotfondofmelobster, @poisonedtruth, @confidentandgood, @emotionalcadaver, @chadillacboseman

There was hardly a night they spent apart.

Maggie had become accustomed to falling asleep nestled against Elias’ chest, being lulled to sleep by a steady heartbeat. Being alone hadn’t mattered until now as the two thrived in the other’s company.

“Check it out,” Elias sat cross legged in bed, wearing flannel pajamas sans shirt. Maggie wore the baggy button up, sitting comfortably on her knees. “This is some of the gnarliest bud I’ve ever had.”

“You think it’s too much?” the joint was gingerly taken between two fingers as she studied it.

“Nah, you’re practically a pro at this point.” Elias chuckled, scratching Major behind the ears as he watched. Taking a small puff, Maggie attempted to hold the smoke in her lungs before expelling a thick fog with a cough. “Maybe not a pro, but you’re getting better. How’s it taste?”

“Like strawberries. And skunk.” Handing the joint back, she adjusted to recline on one side. “It’s nice just lying here with you. Existing.”

“Thought you’d like the strawberries,” he smirked, mirroring her position. His hair was getting long, curtaining sharp features. “Specially since you taste like strawberries.”

“Oh, stop,” she cooed, falling back into the mattress. The outside world ceased to exist when they were together. Or so they hoped, until the phone chimed from the other room. “Want me to get it?”

“Nah, I won’t subject you to that.” Elias peeled himself from the bed, extending one hand to a lounging Maggie, pulling her up. “Mind putting on some pants and taking Major out?”

“Or I could go like this and really give the neighbors a show.” She grinned, doing a little spin in stark white panties. Wriggling her bottom playfully resulted in a quick smack before he was marching toward the intrusion.

“I’d rather you just put on little shows for me.” He grumbled before picking up the receiver, “Hello?”

“That’s not how I taught you to answer the phone, young man.” Mary’s voice was brittle though immediately recognizable, smile spreading across his face like a wildfire.

“Ma. I haven’t heard from you in ages.”

“It’s been a while. Julia says she phones you almost every week.” She tutted, obviously offended such an amenity wasn’t extended to her.

“Yeah, she calls me. It’s not personal,” he sighed “I’ve been busy with work.”

“And a new friend, I hear.”

“Ma…” he warned, happy that Maggie was currently out with the dog. “Let’s not get into my romantic life.”

“Well, it isn’t my fault you never bring it up.” She huffed while Elias cartoonishly rolled his eyes at no one. There was a reason for that. Mostly because he’d really only imbibed in casual sex after moving to the city, something his god-fearing mother would very much disapprove of. “Julia told me you have a real catch.”

“She’s…,” Elias paused immediately as the door jangled open, Major skittering across the hard wood floor. Maggie smiled sweetly before spreading out on the sofa, knocking the air from his lungs for the thousandth time. “Everything. Really.”

“When do I get to meet her?” the woman was nothing if not persistent.

“Ma…” he whined petulantly.

“Fine. We’ll talk about something else,” Mary announced dutifully before continuing, “Are you coming home for Christmas?”

Shit.

“That’s right around the corner, isn’t it?” The man was never good at remembering holidays; they all blurred together.

“Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten?” the woman was obviously displeased in the way only a mother could be. “You can stay with your father and I.”

“I’ll come over for a week tops.” He bargained, ignoring Maggie’s amused giggle. An old newspaper was tossed in her direction, falling flat at the foot of the sofa, earning another wave of amused laughter. “Okay?”

“I hear voices. She’s there now, isn’t she?” Interest was suddenly piqued again.

“That’s just the dog.” This earned a dissatisfied sigh.

“Elias.” Mary’s voice became stern suddenly, “You’re not living in sin are you?”

“Jesus Christ,” Elias groaned, rubbing at his temple. “Can we discuss that another time?”

“Alright. I’ll see you soon? For the holidays?” she baited him once more.

“Yes, I promise.” He attempted to be an obedient son before he was finally given leave from the conversation. “What’s so damn funny?”

“Nothing, really.” Maggie’s face was still red as Elias approached, “It’s just that you have the same body language as I do when I talk to my mother.”

“Yeah? You get irritable too?” Her legs were momentarily moved as he sat on one cushion before stretching her back across his lap.

“Immensely. Sorry that she heard me.” Eyes downcast shyly as she reached down to scratch Major’s snout.

“It’s alright,” one knee was squeezed gently. “She just chided me for potentially ‘living in sin’. Could you imagine? Two unmarried people living together, in the 1970’s.”

“Mmm.” The response was short and thoughtful as she continued to pat the dog.

“What? Spit it out, wild child.” He coaxed, wanting to hear her opinion.

“Would living together be so bad?” her eyes were wide and innocent, obviously nervous as she pried. The subject had never been broached; they’d known each other for years but their current situation was delicate.

“Mags…” he began, heart practically splitting in two when her face dropped. “Don’t go getting all teary eyed over there. We’ve only been together for a couple of months now.”

“And we practically live together anyways. It’s not like we just met, Elias.” She rambled, already feeling hurt. “We’ve known each other for years. We were side by side during a damn war. I stitched your wounds for Christ’s sake.”

“Listen,” he attempted to soothe despite being agitated. “Life’s been unpredictable for me. It’s gotten really fucking messy and I don’t want to make a mistake by moving too fast. I don’t want to ruin what we have.”

“It’d be easier to get a place together.” She countered. “We spend practically every night together. And I barely sleep the nights that we don’t.”

“I know. I’m the same way.” Elias admitted solemnly.

“Then why-”

“I have my reasons, Maggie.” Throwing her legs from his lap, he was quick to amble up onto bare feet. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he could feel a migraine brewing behind his eyes. “You ever think about that?”

She wanted to be angry, after being shouted at so rudely. But a part of her knew better. In all the years they’d known each other, he’d never lashed out at her. Elias hid his fear well back in the jungles, thriving on the adrenaline and handling himself with a certain poise. It occurred to her that he was scared, frightened of what this meant and what it would lead to.

What if he lost her again? That’d shatter an already fragmented soul.

Carefully crawling to her feet, Maggie reached out to stroke a shuddering back. His skin was warm beneath her touch, muscles jumping as she rested one cheek between sharp shoulder blades. Flannel clad arms snaked around his waist, squeezing tightly as a calloused thumb began to stroke circles into her knuckle.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you,” Elias gently turned in her grasp, cupping her cheeks in either hand. Cornflower blue eyes were bleary as she sniffled. “I’d never want to hurt you.”

“Would living with me be so terrible? Or marrying me for that fact?” she whimpered, nuzzling into one palm. Rough skin scratched against soft.

“God, of course not. Getting to see that pretty smile every morning would be heaven. You take so much of the pain away.”

“But you’re scared…” she already knew the answer, seeing it etched across taut skin and sharp features.

“Let’s just savor what we have for now and see where this takes us.” It was the most he could offer at the moment.

“Okay.” She nodded, responding positively when he brought his lips to hers. “Just promise you won’t let me go.”

“Promise.” Then he was squeezing her tight, committing to his word.

……

“Got a business opportunity for you.” King was on his second beer, voice booming over the bustle in the bar. The twinkling strings of lights and plumes of smoke were reminiscent of the Underworld. It was a nice reprieve after being stuck at his parents’ house for the last four days. Christmas had passed in a blur of screeching children.

“Yeah?” Elias took a swig of his own drink, enjoying time with his buddy like they were kids again.

“Dig this,” a gold tooth glinted in the low light, white smile a broad beacon. “Ana’s old man gave me this nest egg for Christmas. Since I’ve been makin’ like you and fixing cars and shit, I thought about opening my own garage.”

“You really think her old man is gonna like you putting his cash to something blue collar?”

“He doesn’t really care if it’s opening my own business. Especially with Ana expecting, she wouldn’t have to work. It’d be a win-win.”

“How do I factor in exactly? Being five states away and all?”

“You, my man, would become my business partner. You and Taylor.”

“How’d you get a hold of that bastard? I’ve been calling his parents’ place in Manhattan since I’ve been in the city and haven’t been able to get through.”

“I had the same problem. That rich motherfucker has been touring Europe for the better part of a year. But he’s always willing to get away from that hoity toity bullshit. Said he’d move in a minute. So, what about you?”

“What about me?” Elias shrugged.

“You in or are you in?” King grinned slyly.

“Weren’t you the one that told me to get my ass out of Wisconsin? To live a little?” Blue eyes rolled incredulously.

“Yeah,” King shrugged, “But not forever. It’s time to start fresh and make a buck. Be your own boss. I’d even let you balance the books.”

“That’s just because you’re shit at math.” They clinked their glasses at that, chugging the rest of their drinks. “What about Maggie?”

“Bring that pretty thing with you. Slap a ring on her, get hitched.” The man winked salaciously, “Get down and dirty in the Midwest. Bet you two are at it like bunny rabbits.”

“Jesus Christ,” Elias tried to suppress a rising blush at that comment. “She’s got a life in New York. She’s not a vagabond like me.”

“Bet you she’d do it.” His buddy offered knowingly.

“What makes you so sure?” Elias cocked his head.

“I never seen anyone fall head over heels like that girl when she met you.”

“She’s got bad taste,” this earned a brotherly chuckle.

“Even so, girl loves you. Not to mention being reunited? That’s some classic romantic shit. Even Ana said so. And she loves those old British romance novels.”

“Mags likes Jane Austen too.” He thought somberly of all the books lining stuffed shelves.

“Give her a chance, man. You’ll never find a better gal.” His friend spoke the absolute truth.

“It’s not her I’m worried about.” Elias grimaced. He’d hardly spoken to her since their last night together. Excuses were made or the phone was ignored completely, though he agreed to spending New Year’s Eve together. After their conversation had grown serious, he couldn’t help but feel lesser than. That Maggie deserved to be whisked away by some well off business man, to have a spacious penthouse and spend summers galivanting across tropical beaches. The best he could provide was a dog and weekends on Lake Michigan.

“You getting cold feet?” King arched a brow dramatically. “Don’t make me take you outside and clean your clock.”

“Easy. You ever think that Diana deserves someone better? Someone you just can’t be?” Brows knit together as the smaller man leaned animatedly across the table.

“Sometimes.” King answered, “Then I remember that she’s a grown woman and she chose me. Might’ve been to make her daddy mad at first but we’ve been together for a while now. And not a doubt in my mind makes me think she doesn’t want to be with me. You gotta trust the people that you love.”

“Hmmm.” Elias mulled this over.

“You don’t seem sold.”

“I’ll never be the person she deserves, King,” Elias sighed, propping his hand in an open palm. “At the end of the day, I’ll always be a soldier fighting my own war.”

“We’re way too sober for this. Let me get us another round and we’ll get these crazy ideas out of your head.” King was gathering empty glasses before marching up to the crowded bar. Blue eyes fell on a couple dancing to The Righteous Brothers by the juke, lost in their own world.

Maggie deserved the damn world and he was worried he couldn’t give it to her.

#fanfiction #otp fanfiction #otp: dog tags and flower crowns #maggie x elias #platoon 1986

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normandarby · 2 years

Text

By @loodgack

#Hello neighbor #hello neighbor 2 #Theodore peterson #Meme #Hello neighbor bad blood #Hello neighbor buried secrets #Hello neighbor missing pieces #Hello neighbor waking nightmare #Hello neighbor grave mistakes #Hello neighbor puzzle master

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hello-neighbor-three-aus · 3 years

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The Hello neighbor timeline in my HN AUs. 👌🏻

Note: This is ONLY for my AUs, not the official Hello neighbor series.

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neasiie · 2 months

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ok I don't really have anything new to post so I guess I'll just be posting some of my old drawings

this one is a comic based on a song atlantis by seafret!!

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privet-sosed · 4 years

Photo

all HN book covers

#hello neighbor book #hello neighbor missing pieces #hello neighbor waking nightmare #hello neighbor buried screts #hello neighbor bad blood #hello neighbor grave mistakes #hello neighbor puzzle master #book #tim heitz

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helloneighborfan · 2 years

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“El tipo que la encontró dijo que daba la sensación de que estuviese durmiendo. Parecía tan tranquila, tan serena”

“The guy that found her, said that she looked like she was sleeping. She seemed so calm, so serene”

Un concepto sobre como posiblemente se vea la Sra. Ryland. / A posible sketch of Mrs. Ryland.

Esta es como me la imagino en la trilogía de Aaron. / This Is how i imagine her in Aaron's trilogy

#lucy yi #hello neighbor #my art #rita ryland #missing pieces #grave mistakes

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askkassandragf-v-2 · 3 years

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I'm trying to guess the timeline of Hello neighbor so far but I could be wrong about this, so here's how I think of the HN timeline.

Again, I could be wrong about this.

AU account: @hello-neighbor-three-aus

#the secret of bosco bay #hello neighbor bad blood #hello neighbor grave mistake #hello neighbor puzzle master #hello neighbor missing pieces #hello neighbor hide and seek #hello neighbor waking nightmares #hello neighbor buried secrets #hello neighbor #hello neighbor reset day #hello neighbor 2 #hello neighbor animated series #secret neighbor #timeline #games #books #AskKassandraGF V.2

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shah-writes · 2 years

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storm

okay so now that we’ve all thoroughly enjoyed this piece by the amazing and unbelievably talented @peachbabypie, pls enjoy my contribution to the lore in the form of 1k of idiots to lovers (emphasis on the idiots)

“I’m a scared crow,” he says matter-of-factly. “Pansy explained it to me.”

Harry stares back, incredulous. Draco’s crouched on the ground, smeared black in mud, with rags hanging from his shoulders, fashioned as makeshift wings.

“Someone’s stealing my crop, Harry. And I intend to scare them away.”

Here are the things Harry should have said:

But you can use your magic to protect your plants.

I think she meant scarecrow.

You don’t even look like a crow. You look like a man having a psychotic break on a Sunday afternoon.

She was probably definitely messing with you.

Instead, Harry squats beside him and wipes a bit of mud away from the corner of Draco’s eye. He says, “I like your wings.”

They stay outside until the sun lands low on the horizon and Harry’s calves cramp and knees creak.

The next morning, Harry spots a flash of white scaling the tree outside his kitchen window. He sighs, grabs his basket, and heads out the door. “Hullo!” He calls up into the branches.

Draco’s face peeks through the leaves. He’s scrubbed clean today, pink and pretty like strawberries and cream. There’s still a spot of mud caked to the top of Draco’s pointed ears and Harry has no plans to point it out.

“So where are these crops of yours anyway?”

“Hello,” Draco sniffs. Then, waving his hand vaguely in Harry’s direction, “Oh, all around. I garden where there’s the best sunlight and soil in the village.”

“You know, that might explain why your plants are disappearing.” Harry cranes his neck and shields his eyes from the sun. It’s worth it just to keep looking at Draco. “You’re gardening on other people’s land.”

“Private property is theft, Harry,” he replies gravely.

It was a mistake introducing him to Hermione, Harry thinks fondly. “Still, you might want to make an announcement to all the neighbors. Make sure they know about your plants.”

“I don’t speak to humans.”

“You speak to me.” Harry’s sure that he’s imagining Draco’s blush. “And Ron and Hermione,” he continues.

“Yes, well,” Draco stutters, “you’re not like the others.” He mumbles something else that Harry doesn't quite catch but Harry grins, wide and foolish, nonetheless.

“I’ll be working today,” Harry says, wandering into his fields. “I’ll keep an eye out for any intruders for you.” He finds the rosewood patch in a matter of minutes, so close that he can still see Draco if he squints. It grows in arbitrary, rare patches, and Harry plucks them gently and lays them in his basket.

There’s a loud yelp and Harry looks up abruptly to see Draco come crashing down the tree. He drops the saplings and rushes forward. “Oh god, did you fall?”

Draco, running towards him, halts surprisedly, then sneers. “No, I didn’t fall. Fae don’t fall.” Then, he creeps closer, suspicious. “What are you doing?”

Harry rolls up his sleeves and continues pulling saplings from the ground. “I use a lot of young rosewood in my work,” he explains. “It’s very conducive to magic, you know?”

Draco gapes as if he has a thousand questions to ask and Harry wonders if this is how he had looked yesterday when he found Draco crouching in the mud, disguised as a man-sized crow. Eventually, he asks softly, “Do you— does it smell like anything to you?”

Harry stares. He slowly brings the saplings to his nose and breathes in a lungful of dirt. “No,” he coughs.

There’s a flash of disappointment across Draco’s face, quickly covered with a haughty scoff. “You’re human,” he replies. “You have a weak nose.”

“Okay—?” Draco sprints away before Harry can finish. Harry stares at the edge of the clearing and into the woods where Draco disappeared. Then, he shakes his head and gets back to work.

“Mother of fuck—”

It’s the next morning and Harry was washing his dishes, singing lightly, until he glanced up to see Draco’s grim face framed in the window, staring at him determinedly. “Merlin’s cock and cunt,” he mutters, stepping over the broken dish on the floor and waving Draco over to the front.

“Hello,” Draco says primly when Harry swings the door open. He’s drenched, his hair sticking to his forehead and tiny raindrops clinging to his eyelashes.

“Why the hell are you standing outside in a storm?”

“I needed to speak with you.”

“Why didn’t you come in?”

“You’ve never invited me,” Draco replies, sulking slightly.

“What’re you a vampire?”

Draco blinks owlishly.

“You know— because of the myth… You have to invite vampires—” Harry sighs and waves Draco in. “Get in here.”

Draco allows Harry a small smile and trails in. He stands in the middle of the living room and glances around, wide-eyed.

Harry rubs at the back of his neck, embarrassed. “It’s not much—”

“I really like it,” Draco interrupts, pawing gently at the blankets on his sofa.

“Oh.” Harry watches him carefully, with a dopey smile, deciding that he quite likes the sight of Draco in his home.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

“I was asking about the rosewood? You said you use it for your work?”

Harry nods and leads him to his desk, where the saplings are lying side-by-side. He picks one up in demonstration. “It’s something Hermione told me once— that magic is merely an expression of love. So I use a lot of rosewood since its properties facilitate strong emotions,” Harry explains. He pinches off the roots from the saplings and drops them in a bowl of water. Once they’ve matured by the moonlight, Harry will bind his wands in the concoction. He begins to explain this step but startles when he catches Draco’s expression. “Are you okay?”

“So!” He seethes, digging his finger into Harry’s chest. “I was right, then? You’re making illegal love potions with my rosewood?”

“What potions? Wait— your rosewood?” Harry asks incredulously. Then, in a moment of clarity, “Ah, shit. I’m the thief.”

Draco nods furiously. “You’ve stolen from me, you’ve corrupted my harvest with your illicit potion making— I can’t believe— I should strike you down where you stand, Potter!”

“I’m making wands, Draco,” Harry interrupts. “Not potions. I soak my wands in rosewood roots.”

Draco goes very still. “Wands?”

“Yeah. For kids who can’t afford them. And I swear, I had no idea the plants were yours.”

“For children? You’re spreading my magic, my fae magic, to human children?”

Harry glances away and replies quietly. “Humans aren’t born with an innate magical ability like the fae. We have to learn. Our children, especially, have trouble. Not because they’re not talented, but because it’s difficult for them to express their emotions and transform it into magic. There are accidents nearly everyday, did you know that? Magical outbursts that hurt the kids and everyone around them.”

Draco’s listening carefully, head tilted.

Harry continues. “These wands help them. Maybe it's the rosewood, maybe it’s your magic, or maybe some combination— the point is, Draco, you’ve helped a lot of children. And I’d really like to keep doing that.”

Draco gazes expressionless out the window. “I suppose it’s better than what I thought you were doing,” he sighs eventually.

Harry chuckles wryly. “Why would you think I was making love potions?”

Draco reaches out and twirls a sapling between his fingers. “Because… Rosewood roots are the primary ingredient in Amortentia. They’re the reason that love potions smell like the person you— you know…” He breaks away from Harry’s eyes, blushing and unbearably sweet, and Harry leans in closer.

“So,” he teases gently, “your non-human, super-strong nose didn’t catch on to the fact that I was the one stealing your plants?”

“Of course I smelled you!” Draco replies fiercely. “I just thought it was—”

Oh. “You thought it was just the rosewood, the person that you…” Draco looks about ready to bolt and Harry figures it’s the closest to a confession he’ll get. “I—uh. I have something to confess too,” he says.

Draco glances back at him interestedly.

“It’s a scarecrow, not a scared crow. It’s a straw mannequin that you put up in the fields to scare away birds.”

“So why’d you sit outside with me all afternoon?” Draco asks indignantly.

Harry smiles patiently, waiting.

Then, a smile, wide and bright, mirroring Harry’s own. “Oh.”

#to quote that one rlly famous tumblr post #its about the oh #no beta we are delusionally confident in this household #drarry fic #drarry fanfic #draco malfoy #harry potter #shah-writes

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fruitcoops · 3 years

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Hi, Eve

Rose here from yesterday, thank you very much for the Birthday message, I wasn't expecting you to read it let alone reply but I was looking for Coops kids Birthday fluff specifically. It doesn't matter if you don't have time however as I don't want to be a bother.

Hello Rose, and happy (belated) 20th birthday! Sorry for the wait--I really wanted to get this one right to celebrate such an important number. I hope your day was absolutely fantastic! SW credit goes to @lumosinlove, but Stella is an OC

Combined with asks for Sirius lightly making fun of Remus' accent and Remus yelling at a game show (@nazar4114)

“Medusa!” Stella shouted with all the force in her thirteen-year-old lungs. Remus leaned forward on the couch. “Medusa!”

The front door opened with a creak. “I’m h—”

“Yes!” they cheered in unison as Nicole answered correctly. Remus turned and gave Stella a double high-five, feeling his heart squeeze at the vivid joy on her round face. “Good guess.”

“I knew she was gonna get it,” Stella said with a pump of her fist as she turned back to the show and folded her legs underneath her.

“Gonna,” a familiar deep voice mimicked from the doorway. Paper bags rustled before footsteps stopped behind the couch; Remus tilted his chin up without sparing a glance, and Sirius pressed a laugh-laced kiss to his cheek before dropping one on Stella’s head as well. “You sound too much like your dad.”

“Love you, too,” Remus said wryly.

“I’ll take ‘Myths and Moths’ for 400, please.” Nicole’s voice snapped his attention back to the screen, and Stella narrowed her eyes.

“Daily Double!” the automated voice announced. Stella gasped; Remus bit his lower lip. “This mythical shield was wielded by Athena, and is sometimes said to be made of goat skin.”

“Aegis,” Stella whispered, then raised her voice. “It’s the Aegis, Nicole. You know this.”

“We know you do,” Remus said, scooting forward. “You just guessed whose head is on it.”

Nicole’s buzzer went off with two seconds to spare. “What is the Aegis?”

“Hell yeah!” Stella whooped.

Remus turned to her and raised his eyebrows. “Excuse you.”

“Sorry.”

“Are you two going to do this the whole afternoon?” Sirius asked from the kitchen, obviously amused. “We might need to get the neighbors some noise-cancelling headphones.”

Stella blew a dark lock of hair out of her eyes as she flopped her head back. “It’s almost final Jeopardy, papa. We have, like, ten minutes.”

Sirius blinked at her, then shook his head. “I swear you two share genes.”

“Ope, you caught me,” Remus said over the noise of the commercial break. “When I was 20 and had literally never left Wisconsin, I went and had a secret kid in Maine who looks terribly like you just so that someone would watch Jeopardy reruns with me thirteen years later. Oops.”

“It’s the truth,” Stella said with great gravity. “I remember.”

“Mon dieu,” Sirius muttered, though he couldn’t keep a smile down. He had never been able to hide around Stella, not once in the three years since they had adopted her. It was one of the things Remus loved most about him. “By the way, nobody under the age of fourteen is allowed in the kitchen for the next…hour. Ish.”

Stella squirmed around until she could rest her arms on the back of the couch. “What if I get thirsty?”

“I’m sure you can invoke birthday privileges and ask your dad to get something for you.”

“Birthday privileges?” Remus scoffed. “Nobody in this house has a birthday today. Yours was last month, and mine’s in March.”

“It’s my birthday,” Stella said.

“What? No, it’s not.”

“Yeah-huh.”

“Your birthday is in June.”

“It’s today.”

“Or maybe July?”

“It’s today, in December, when there’s snow,” she insisted, throwing herself back against the pillows. “Come on, dad, that’s not funny anymore.”

Remus raised his eyebrows. “Is somebody too old to find their poor old dad amusing now? Can you go back to being twelve so somebody will laugh at my jokes again? I know, I know, we're super lame compared to all your friends’ parents—”

“So lame,” Sirius agreed from the kitchen.

“—but I like to think we get one more year of pre-teen cuteness before the teen angst takes over.”

Stella sat up again with a groan. Looking at her, Remus saw a mix of himself and Sirius that had always baffled him, considering they had adopted her comparatively late in her life; beneath it was something uniquely Stella. Maybe it was her double-jointed elbows, or the board-straightness of her hair next to their curls, but there was no mistaking that she was her own person through and through. He loved that about her. “I’m not going to be a terrible teenager.”

Sirius poked his head around the edge of the kitchen—his nose was adorned with a smudge of flour. “Can I record that for future use?”

“Non.”

“Ooo, using the French,” Remus hissed. “That transformation is already beginning.”

“It’s not like you were bad teenagers, right?” She settled upside-down on the couch with her flamingo-patterned socks high in the air.

“I almost convinced Grandma to let me dye my hair blue, but otherwise I was pretty good.”

“I was terrible,” Sirius laughed. “I didn’t talk to anybody for a solid three years.”

Stella frowned. “How? I think I’d die if I did that.”

“He’s stubborn,” Remus stage-whispered.

“I heard that.”

Stella suppressed her laughter as best she could, but she was about as good at hiding her emotions around them as Sirius was. She didn’t really giggle—the amount her voice had deepened over the past three years always gave Remus whiplash—but her laugh had the same cadence as it did the first day they heard it. While Stella had been quiet at first, it only took love and time to bring her out of her shell. Within a year she settled into their lives like she was always meant to be there.

A thoughtful look crossed her face. “This is my last year before high school.”

“Does it feel different?”

“Not really.” She paused, then shrugged. “And a little. I don’t feel older. It just feels like there’s stuff I won’t get to do anymore.”

“And a lot more you will get to do.” Sirius left his dishtowel on the counter before joining them on Stella’s other side. “You can drive soon, you’ll get a longer curfew, you get more freedom…”

“I guess.”

“What are you going to miss?” Remus asked as she toyed with the hem of her shirt. It was a basic Lions FAN jersey; he was fairly sure she bought it to be ironic. That, and she only wore one of theirs if she was upset with the other, or if one needed a boost at a game.

“I dunno.” A few beats of silence passed. “My classmates. My team. It feels like everything’s going to turn upside down.”

“You can still keep in touch with your friends, and I bet your team won’t be too different,” Sirius said quietly. “Even if it does, that doesn’t mean you have to give all of them up. People change in different ways. They come and go on their own time.”

“There’s going to be a lot of upside-downs over the next couple years, kid.” Remus offered her a smile. “But you’re going to be just fine.”

“You two sound like such dads right now.”

“This might shock you, but that’s because we are.”

The corner of her mouth tugged up and she lolled her head to the side to look at Sirius. “Is the cake done?”

“Fifteen more minutes.”

“Will you watch final Jeopardy with us?”

“What’s the category?”

“US Presidents.”

Sirius exhaled through his nose, but nodded. She grinned and turned herself upright to snuggle against his arm. “You just enjoy watching me lose.”

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

“Alright, is everyone ready?” Sirius called from the kitchen.

“On three,” Remus said, raising his phone camera. “One, two, three!”

“Happy birthday to you,” over a dozen voices sang. They were off-tempo and so out of key the composer was probably spinning in his grave, but Stella’s clear joy didn’t waver for a millisecond even as her cheeks reddened. “Happy birthday to you! Happy birthday dear Stella, happy birthday to you!”

Finn, of course, dragged out the last note. So did Leo, Logan, Kasey, James, Lily, and Talker in varying degrees of awful harmony attempts. It was terrible, and beautiful. “Make a wish,” Sirius said softly as he set the cake down and stepped back. His eyes were the brightest quicksilver Remus had seen in many moons.

Stella closed her eyes, took a breath, and blew as hard as she could—the entire room erupted into cheers when all the candles went out. She was laughing and blushing at the same time when Remus turned the lights back on, though the humor won out in the end and she helped pass plates of cake to her many aunts and uncles. Like every year prior, Regulus managed to smear a bit of frosting on her chin, only to immediately deny it with great offense when she noticed. It was becoming a bit of a tradition—one that Remus never grew tired of.

I know what I would wish for, Remus thought as he looked around the table at their patchwork family. Celeste, Dumo, and his own parents had no doubt spoiled their first grandchild with ‘cusp of adulthood’ gifts, and Natalie and Lily would certainly steal her away after cake for some girl time. Finn and Logan would remain the fun uncles while Leo and Regulus kept their thrones as the cool uncles; Stella would interrogate Jules on the intricacies of high school for at least an hour before they destroyed everyone in a snowball fight. The world they built together had a place for everyone.

I would wish for this. This, for us, forever. It wasn’t a bad eternity to imagine.

#remus lupin #sirius black #coops #coops kid #stella #lions #regulus black #my fic #fanfic #sweater weather #vaincre #lumosinlove #birthday party

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