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#i'm actually really happy with how this one turned out!!
fungal-rot · 2 days
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Sweet, Domestic Life
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this one's actually based off a lucid dream i had months ago and oh how i wish to be back there </3 so i decided to write a quick little one shot about it
pairing: Joel x Reader
summary: you and joel have a three year old daughter, and today is her birthday. the two of you are setting up for her party!
warnings: age gap between joel and reader, no specified age for reader, jackson!era, the daughter isn't named here bc i wanted it to feel a little more personal for the reader, but her nickname is Bug, you and Joel make out for a quick second, your child is a cock-block, reader is referred as mama.
w.c.: 1.2k
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
Mermaid-Princesses.
That is the theme your three year old daughter had her little heart set on. And of course, Joel did everything in his power to make it happen because 'whatever daddy's girl wants, daddy's girl gets.' So now here you were, hunched over while holding a plastic tiara with pink, heart-shaped rhinestones in one hand, and trying to zip up the back of this corny little iridescent mermaid dress with the other- on a child that couldn't sit still for longer than a second.
"Bug, I need you to stop moving," You tell her as you followed her tiny steps, hand chasing the zipper as she toddled off. Joel sat on the couch, blowing up balloons and tying them off before bopping them elsewhere into the living room. He watched the two of you with a fond gleam in his eyes, chuckling under his breath as the girl argued incoherently, wanting to go play.
"W- hold on a sec, girlfriend." You huffed and placed your hands on your hips, peering down at her with a cocked brow, "I'm almost done."
"No, I play now." She spoke back immediately with a firm shake of her head and scampered off, tiny feet stomping against the hardwood floor. You sighed and threw your hands up before letting them drop back to your sides with a light smack.
Toddlers, man.
"She gets that from you," Joel commented, a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth as he tied off another balloon. "That 'tude. Just as sassy as her mama." He tossed the balloon into the air and smacked it in your direction.
With a quick titter, you reached out and tapped the bottom with the tiara, letting it hover for a second longer before hitting it to the ground with the rest. "Mm, you must be so happy." Your brows waggled teasingly with an imperceptible back-and-forth nod of your head.
Joel was silent for a beat, his heart leaping in his chest as he stared back at you. He thought about all he's lost, all he's gained, and where he's at right now. He never thought he'd have another kid after Sarah, let alone two. Life was currently really good for the older man. He swallowed the lump forming in his throat, gaze softening as he gave you the gentlest smile, "The happiest." He responded sincerely.
Your shoulders droop a bit with a fluttering feeling growing in your stomach. Then making your way towards him, you sat down and ran your fingers through the graying hair at the nape of his neck.
"I love you," With a murmur you lean in and press a delicate, chaste kiss to his cheek, only for him to return it by swiveling his head and cupping your jaw tenderly, kissing you slowly and passionately. Joel placed a big hand at the small of your back as he licked at your bottom lip before slipping it in for a deep, loving kiss; noses pressed against the others cheek as he wrapped another arm around you.
He pulled away, just enough to reply, "I love you," and crashed his mouth against yours once more.
Then your daughter came running back in, now holding a pair of pink plastic princess pumps, the face of Aurora- Sleeping Beauty- buttoned at the top in feathery down in her pudgy hands, "Mama, shoes."
Your lips part from Joel's with a wet 'smack' as you peer down at your kid, nodding vaguely with a smile, "Yeah, they are! You want mama to help?" You tentatively reach your hands out in an offering, but she quickly turned her body from you, hugging the toy shoes to her chest.
"No, I do'd it."
You giggled, finding her grammar mishap endearing. "Okay, you 'do'd' it, then."
She turned her back to the two of you and crouched down, carefully placing the items to the floor before standing upright again, teetering a bit and grasping Joel's knee for support. He held out his arms, spotting her as he arched his brows in light amusement.
"Y'got it?" He asked, head tilting while he watched his babygirl hike a leg up, struggling to find balance.
"No." She answered softly, lips thinning and brows furrowing with concentration. The shoes were certainly too big for her, you noticed, as she slipped one foot in and lifted the other to do the same.
"Y'want my help?"
"No."
Joel turned to you with a flat expression, eyes saying, 'I told you.'
Yeah, this was definitely your child.
Yet you shrug your shoulders dismissively, slipping the tiara into his hair, leaving it lopsided, "Here, hold that," you spoke and took the opportunity to finally get your daughter's dress zipped, careful to not snag her hair or undershirt into it.
"And she actually gets her stubbornness from you, by the way." You smoothed her sleeves out, working your way down to adjust the shimmery tail of her dress, tugging at the hem slightly while she got her other foot in the slipper, bending over to reach for a red balloon.
All he could do was hum in response, the corner of his mouth flitting up as he grabbed the inflated sack of rubber and handed it to her. She held it up over her head, the static electricity making her hair stand up.
When she finally got situated, Joel let his arms lower a bit as she turned, arms still over her head while her feet scuffled against the floor.
Your daughter's face beamed with delight as she looked between the two of you proudly.
"Lookit you!" Joel exclaimed, mirroring her expression. His palms then splayed under her armpits, and with a soft grunt he picked her up, placing her on his lap before smoothing her flyaways down. He plucked the tiara off his head and placed it on hers, adjusting it so it would sit right, "Daddy's li'l princess."
Her shoulders turned up, now holding the balloon in one pudgy hand while the other placed against her mouth with a scrunched nose and toothy smile as she giggled excitedly.
"More like daddy's li'l stinkbutt," Another voice entered. Ellie walked in, kicking a few balloons to the side with arms folded over her chest as she observed the little girl with a playful glint in her eyes. The comment didn't faze the toddler one bit; instead she lifted her feet, presenting them to Ellie.
"Bellie, shoes." Her voice squeaked, legs kicking and arms reaching out to be held. The oldest girl laughed quietly at the mispronunciation of her name and leaned down to pick her up from Joel's lap, hoisting her onto her hip with a soft bounce.
"I see that, Bug!" She began to walk off, continuing to hold the conversation. "You know what a princess needs? A knight," Her voice carried through the living room and down the hall.
"I'll protect you from dragons, and monsters, and weird men who want to court you-"
You chortled with a shake of your head, leaning into Joel's side, resting your head on his shoulder and run your hand between the spot on his shoulder blades. The two of you sat there, relishing in the family you've created. Even though life wasn't like it used to be, it was still a nice change of pace to what you've endured before.
Life was good.
⁺˚°。⋆♱✮˖☽𓋼𓍊◯𓍊𓋼☾˖✮♱⋆。°˚⁺
again, thank you, everyone who’s shown me support and love on my last fics. i’m very grateful for every reblog and comment, please keep doing that. it makes me motivated to keep writing.
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apollosfavkiddo · 3 days
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⛧° Cooking classes with Uncle Leo
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⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
content: leo valdez x fem!reader blurb
warnings: probably cursing, bad spanish, not proofread. ig that's it?? lmk!!
a/n: i didn't really like this, but i'm posting it anyways lol. dedicated to covey and @/pinkdiorluvr cuz i know they both love leo hehehe
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧
You never learnt how to cook. A disturbed childhood with a shitty mortal dad was not the best place to get cooking lessons. Or to learn anything, on that matter.  
The point is, cooking skills aren’t something you possess, and that annoys you beyond limits. That took you to asking your best friend, Leo Valdez, for cooking classes. Which he immediately accepted. I mean, who wouldn’t want to teach your crush how to cook? 
"So, when can I go to your house?” You asked, which made him snap back to reality from just admiring your features.  
“Uh... my house?” He asked, as he completely forgot what you guys were previously chatting about. He was too busy with noticing how the freckles coated your cheeks, and how your black hair framed your face in the prettiest way possible. Oh, he was down bad.  
“Are you even listening to me right now, Leo?” You asked, waving your hand in front of his face. 
“Uh, yeah, ‘course I am. You were talking about the... cooking classes, right?” He asked, a sheepish smile making his way to his lips. You just rolled your eyes. 
“Yes, I am. When can I come to your house, hm?” You asked again. 
“Tomorrow at seven sounds good to you?” He asked. 
“Yeah, that’d be great.” You answer, smiling softly as well.  
“You’re gonna learn how to make the perfect pasta alla carbonara, my dear apprentice. It's one of my specialties.” He said, passing an arm across your shoulders and pulling you to him.  
Before you could even pull away so you could leave, he planted a kiss with a loud ‘mwah’ to it and darted off, laughing. You were left confused, blushing and smiling as a toddler who just got a pack of candy.  
⛧° 。 ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆༺♱༻⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ ⋆ 。°⛧ 
Leo stood in his kitchen, a grin plastered on his face as he waited for his best friend’s arrival. He was looking forward to it, since he knew that it was a chance of absolutely zero percent that this whole class didn’t end in absolute chaos.  
He leaned against the counter, tapping his fingers impatiently, trying to figure when you’d finally come, what clothes you’d be wearing, what shoes you’d wear and in which way your hair would be. Would it be down? Would you put it in a ponytail? A bun? A braid? 
Oh gods, he was such a sucker for that damned daughter of Poseidon.  
Eventually, he heard the rhythmic knock on the door, telling him that you were finally there, much to his happiness.  
“Come on, Valdez, it’s freezing out here!” You complained, just when he finally opened the door and you barged inside, escaping the snow from the outside world. You were in a black coat, wine-red leggings, gloves and a cute scarf so your nose didn’t get too cold. “Finally! Thought you’d leave me out there to die.” 
“I’d never do that, princesa. I mean, at least not today, I need an assistant.” He said jokingly, poking your shoulder and teasing you as you took your coat off.  
“I’m gonna punch you, I swear to all the gods that I know.” She threatened. He just smiled and walked towards the kitchen, with you following right behind him. “So, what’re you gonna teach me today?”  
“We’re gonna make the best pasta ever – carbonara!” He said happily as he pointed at the counter, which was filled with ingredients for the dish – bacon, eggs, flour and cheese were neatly organized in the counter, ready to be turned into a meal. 
“If this goes wrong, I'm ordering a happy meal.” You complained, putting the things you brought to make your favorite dessert, a classic that you learnt with a Brazilian friend of yours – Brigadeiro. It's actually the only thing that you can cook without burning down the whole house.  
“First, we gotta make the pasta.” The latino said, and you grimaced. 
“Why do we have to make it? Isn't it easier to just, you know, buy the pasta and cook it?”  
He shrugged. “Yeah, it’s easier. But making it is so much fun!” He said, with a smile on his face, and started pouring flour on the counter, making a small tower and soon making a hole in it. Then he stopped and looked at you. 
“What? Is there something on my hair?” You asked, brushing off your hair, which made Leo laugh. 
“No, no. I need you to grab six eggs and crack them here.” He said, gesturing towards the bowl.  
“Oh.” You mumbled and picked up the bowl, cracking the eggs in it and being extra careful with the shell. When you finished, you looked at him with puppy eyes. “What now?”  
“Put them here.” He said, gesturing to the hole in the flour. You nodded and poured the eggs there. “Now, you washed your hands, right?” You nodded again. “Great. Now, you have to mix the eggs and the flour until we have a smooth dough; the pasta!” 
You just nodded and put your hands to work. It was cute, since you didn’t seem to know what you were doing, and it was just so cute the way you were unsure on whether you were doing the right thing or not.  
“You’re doing great, y/n/n.” He assured. If you looked up, you’d see a proud smile on his face. 
After a few minutes of squeezing and mixing the dough, it was finally ready. You looked up at Leo’s face, a proud smile on your face and shining eyes. Maybe cooking wasn’t really that bad, after all. Not if you had a good teacher and friend around. 
He was starstruck. He couldn’t even move. You were just so pretty, flour all over your arms and hands, a little spot on your cheek white from when you rubbed the back of your hand on your face. He wanted nothing more than to kiss you in that moment.  
But he knew he couldn’t. He shouldn’t do it. Couldn't risk his friendship with you.  
And yet you were so tempting, so pretty like that. In his kitchen, with his apron – which was slightly too big for your tiny frame – and with him.  
“So, what do we do now?” You asked, interrupting the trance he was in. He shook his head and blushed, embarrassed to be caught like that.  
“Uh... the- the eggs. We need to make the eggs.” He said, blushing after getting caught staring at you. “You can whisk the yolks while I cook the bacon. Is that alright with you?”  
“Mhm. You just need to teach me how to separate the yolks.” You said, with a smile.  
You two continued the cooking, with Leo cooking the bacons till they were golden brown and crispy while you whisked the egg yolks and the cheese together. It was a fun night, where you ate the food you made – which was delicious, by the way – and had fun with your best friend. 
The only out of the ordinary thing was that the whole time you were there, the only thing you wanted was to jump on Leo’s lap and kiss the hell out of him.  
And his train of thought was not that far away from yours. 
Don't get me wrong, he loved to spend platonic time with you, of course. But he really, really wanted to kiss you.  
‘Oh, for my father’s sake, what I wouldn’t give to kiss her.’  
“...what?” You asked, your face clearly redder with his – more than sudden – confession.  
You never thought he’d want to kiss you, much less give yourself the hope that maybe someday that’d happen. No, it was selfish, and you knew – or at least thought – that he’d never ever like his best friend.  
But here he was, saying how much he’d give in exchange for a kiss.  
“Oh, shit- I said that out loud, didn’t I? I’m so sorry, Y/n, you can really pretend this never happened, I just-” AAAAAND he was rambling. Again. So, the easiest way out of that situation was, obviously, shut him up with a kiss.  
He immediately melted. His hands stopped flying around his face and went to graze your neck and waist, unsure, but ready to search.  
It was one of the best kisses you’ve ever had, and it was definitely the most awaited one. His lips were cracked and raspy, and he tasted sweet like the juice you had.  
When you finally pulled away, both of your cheeks were red and there was a smile playing on both of your lips.  
“I kinda love you.” You admited.  
“Good, ‘cause i love you too, princesa.” 
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createdbytragedy · 2 days
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MY GIRLFRIEND (2)
(1)
Pairing: Choi Beomgyu x reader
Genre: Fluff, crack
Warning: Established relationship, cursing , idol! au, Hueningkai is referred to as only kai because I didn't know his spelling (lol), a brief mention of Yeonjun's gf
"Me and (y/n)'s going on a date this Saturday," Beomgyu announced, entering the room with eyes on his phone where he was probably texting his girlfriend.
"This Saturday? I thought we were all going out together to get ramen at the old shop again," Soobin chimed, looking up from his phone.
"Yeah," Yeonjun added, " we haven't been there in a while. You remember how we used to go there when we were trainees?"
"With sweat and bruises on my knees, yes, I do remember." Taehyun added, earning a few chuckles from the boy beside him.
"The owner invited us. Who knows, we might get a free meal," Kai resorted.
"We're not saying you should cancel the date but -," Yeonjun said and grinned," unless you wanna miss the heavenly ramen."
"No, it's okay," Beomgyu said, flopping beside Soobin," (y/n) would be mad if I cancelled with you guys. "
"Wouldn't she be more mad that you cancelled on the date?" Taehyun questioned, raising a brow. Beomgyu shook his head, picking up his phone to send you a text.
"No, actually, " he said, eyes on the phone and fingers typing, " She actually got more mad when I cancel on you guys. Says I should bond with my "boys" often. " He chuckled, mind wandering back to the moment.
"She's so sweet. Such an angel." Kai added, resting his head on Beomgyu's shoulder to peer at his phone.
"So you mean she doesn't get angry often?" Yeonjun asked, looking pretty surprised at the statement.
"No, she's really patient," Beomgyu smiled," she usually tolerates everything."
"Unlike you." Soobin snickered followed by the others.
"So, like, you guys don't argue? " Yeonjun questioned, now looking really shocked as if Beomgyu had suddenly asked for both of his kidneys, " Me and my girl argue over the smallest of things. She hasn't talked to me in 3 days and maybe I should apologize."
Beomgyu turned off his phone and looked at Yeonjun, " Me and my girl don't argue. She tells me to shut the fuck up and I do," he added, pointing his phone towards him.
"You never shut up when we tell you to," Soobin countered, "That's cause she's my girlfriend. She gets privileges, " He replied, getting up to walk out the door.
"Your corny. Get out of my sight. " Taehyun mocked, pushing Beomgyu out by the shoulder.
"I don't wanna be with singles like you people either. I'm gonna go face time with (y/n)!! " He exclaimed, shoving Taehyun off his shoulder.
"Tell (y/n) noona I said hi," Kai adds, peeking over Taehyun's shoulder.
"Get out already," Soobin shouted earning a glare from Beomgyu.
"Fine! I am going to my room," He shouted angrily, loud enough to wake up a person sleeping if there were any," don't you dare come in at midnight to snatch your charger or snacks or socks or I'm gonna lock you in the closet till morning, get it?!" His voice was still clear even though he was out of the room and was walking in the hallway.
"Goodnight, hyung!," Kai shouted from the door.
And from the other side of the room they could hear Beomgyu yell," I'm only wishing a goodnight to (y/n), rest of you can have nightmares!!"
And with that, a door slammed shut and laughter erupted in the room.
"Gosh, he's down so bad," Soobin laughed, slapping his hand on Yeonjun 's shoulder.
"He wouldn't survive a day without (y/n). " Taehyun said, shaking his head.
"We wouldn't survive a day without (y/n). Apparently, she's the only one who can keep his ego in check and make him shut up without having to stuff tissue papers into his mouth," Yeonjun concluded, the other nod.
"But, they look so happy," Huening smiled.
"Yeah, sure they do. Maybe I should also start shutting up when my girl tells me to," Yeonjun said, earning a laugh from everyone. Then they heard another laughter joining them from the other room.
"Only (y/n) can make Beomgyu laugh like that. "
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pomefioredove · 8 hours
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could you perchance do a part two to the yuu getting sold to the highest bidder? like how would that characters treat them if they actually get them? sorry if this doesnt make sence!! but thank uu!! ^_^
more than happy to! <3 I'm writing this as a follow up/pt. 2 to this post but if you'd like something different don't be shy! I love getting requests
summary: joining their dorms + wearing the uniforms (for some). a proper ending to this type of post: short fics characters: trey, cater, leona, rook, idia, lilia, malleus additional info: yuu is gender neutral, rook is weird, both fem and masc french words are used during rook's part but reader is still gn, I need to replay book 2 to get leona's voice down, Idia being fun to write, maybe a little ooc
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If you thought it was bad before, the news that Malleus intended to marry you made everything about twenty times more chaotic. Bids were upped to insurmountable sums, rumors were spread like the plague, fights were raging through campus as the deadline to donate approached. Even Crowley was starting to feel a little antsy, despite all of the brand new amenities he had already ordered for his office.
Finally, the day came. The announcement was held in the courtyard, where just about any student who had stakes in the matter had shirked whatever after-school responsibilities they had to gather. The prefect themselves was nowhere to be found, though only few noticed their absence.
"Maybe it'll be nice," you say to your direbeast companion, the both of you tucked away in a dark corner at Ramshackle.
"It'll definitely beat living in this dump. You think they got good food in Diasomnia?" Grim murmurs.
You grimace. "Uh... sure. I can't imagine they wouldn't, right?"
Crowley clears his throat, pulling a thin, delicate envelope out of his coat pocket while the crowd eagerly watches on. He takes his sweet time opening it, much to everyone's utter dismay, and when he finally withdraws the contents the entire courtyard falls quiet enough to hear a pin drop.
"And our winner is..."
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Trey and Cater's Ending
"Cater Diamond and Trey Clover!"
Everyone stops dead and turns to the back of the crowd. There's a certain sense of unity that, for a brief moment, everyone can feel in the form of a single thought: Them, of all people?
Cater, ever the people-person, can already tell what's on everyone's minds. "What can I say? I run a mean social media campaign. I had some sick infographics,"
Trey can only smile and shrug at the growing disdain coming from the other students, most of which from his own housewarden, who is s currently turning a lovely shade of crimson.
"...Right. Well, the prefect will be ready for you shortly," Crowley says, folding the envelope and setting it back in his pocket. "I trust your housewarden will help you sort out the details."
Riddle looks more like he's about to start throttling them.
"Nah, it's cool. We got this," Cater smiles, though he's only half paying attention as he posts an update to Magicam. "The prefect is in great hands. Right, guys?"
Ace and Deuce shrug. Not the best outcome, not the worst, and either way it's still their friend coming to stay with them. Riddle is gritting his teeth so hard you could practically hear them grinding from Ramshackle.
"Was anyone going to tell me you two had pitched in, as well? Or was it a surprise?"
Trey smiles, almost nervously. "Well-"
"We were only giving the dorm a better chance. It's basic statistics- more Heartslabyul names in the hat, more of a chance one of us will be drawn, y'know?" Cater beams. "No disrespect, of course."
"None whatsoever," Riddle hisses back.
---
"And you're sure he's not really mad?" you ask, trailing behind the two third years.
It had been almost an hour since you'd updated your Magicam feed and read the announcement firsthand, but the shock is still wearing off.
Cater scoffs. "Whaaaat? No, he's totally cool about it,"
"Well. Now he is, anyway," Trey murmurs back. "But he certainly won't kick you out. As long as you're in the dorm uniform, you're one of us. He's just upset we went behind his back."
"...Understandable,"
Cater holds the door open for you, letting you inside to see a precariously placed mannequin with a dorm uniform in your size already on it. You hate to admit it, but it's lovely.
"Riddle had one ready. You know, just in case," Trey says, gesturing you forward. "And don't worry, we'll all be taking it easy on you while you adjust."
You run your fingers down the durable fabric. "Hm. Thanks,"
"You should get changed, I need a post to commemorate the moment," Cater says, beaming. "And I kindaaaa want to rub it in for everyone else who lost out on the best giveaway ever."
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Leona's Ending
"Leona Kingscholar! Please... be responsible. Ruggie, I hope you'll keep an eye out for the prefect,"
Ruggie rolls his eyes but doesn't say anything. Leona, who had been absent-mindedly picking his teeth before the big announcement, flashes a big smirk to the audience while swaggering to the front of it.
"Well, well. Look who's come in first place, after all. What, didn't think I'd bother to try?"
Vil grimaces, crossing his arms. "Is there a point to this?"
"Obviously. I'm showing off," he rolls his eyes. "I guess I'll be seeing the rest of you lot around my territory a lot more, then?"
He snickers and then disappears back inside the building. Ruggie can only shrug at the disgruntled crowd before tailing after him.
---
"Well, that felt nice," Leona sighs, stretching out on one of the lounge chairs. "Pity that I couldn't see the lizard's reaction, but I'm sure we'll get to that eventually."
You're sitting at the table across from him, playing cards with a very invested Ruggie. You raise an eyebrow. "Who?"
"Malleus," Ruggie mutters, shuffling his cards around in his hand.
"It's never a party without him, right? He was probably off cowering somewhere with his tail behind his legs," Leona chuckles, picking his teeth again. "But everyone else's faces just about made up for it."
"Whatever," Ruggie grumbles. "I'm all in."
Though you're not exactly invested in the game anymore. You set down your cards, much to Ruggie's dismay, and stand over Leona with your hands on your hips.
"I hope you know that I won't be one of your errand runners for you. I've done enough of that with Crowley,"
He pauses, sharp eyes scanning you over. "You certainly know how to rain on someone's parade,"
"This is not a parade. This is my sanity we're talking about,"
"Tch. And what're you gonna do? Run away?" Leona rolls his eyes. "Hide in the jungle? Maybe you can take Ruggie with you and make it a party!"
"Hey, leave me out of this," the aforementioned says, shuffling the deck.
You stand your ground, though you don't know what else to say. Eventually, Leona sighs.
"Fine. I won't make you do anything you don't want to if you're just going to whine about it,"
He pauses, and a small smirk crosses his face. "But you'll at least have to wear the uniform. I need the satisfaction of seeing the look on everyone else's faces."
You smile triumphantly, and sit back down across from Ruggie for another round while Leona watches on, pretending not to care about the game.
It could be better, but it could also be worse.
Plus, something about that smile of his let on more than just a little self-satisfaction.
This could definitely be interesting...
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Rook's Ending
"...Ah. Rook Hunt!" Crowley says, folding the paper back in his pocket and leaning down to whisper to Azul in the front row. "Tell the prefect I said good luck."
At the heart of the crowd, Vil turns to Rook, hands on his hips. "Rook..."
"Ah, magnifique! How happy I am, my heart could weep for joy!" he says, completely ignoring whatever disappointed comment Vil was about to unleash. "I must run to my prize at once, there's not a moment to lose!"
Vil grimaces as Rook bounds off into the school, moving so swiftly that he cuts through the crowd of confused (and mildly concerned) students like an arrow.
As always, Rook is genuine with his words- he truly feels as if his own heart is about to leap out of his chest and race him towards Ramshackle.
What a chance, what an opportunity! Not only to be close to someone he has his own private fan club for, but to truly, finally possess beauty in physical form. He would display you on a shelf if it were feasible.
The idea so overwhelms him with joy that you barely had time to ask what was going on before you suddenly found yourself sitting beside him in the Pomefiore lounge as he smooths out the crinkles in your new uniform.
He murmurs under his breath, kneeling before you while inspecting the uniform. "Magnifique, joli, belle, quelle beauté, une rose parfaite..."
...Leaving you in a torn state of embarrassment and shyness. You look across the room to Vil for help, and he rolls his eyes.
"I coulda get used 'ta this!" Grim shouts, lounging on a nearby silk pillow with a mouthfull of pâté. Two freshman are tediously brushing his fur with the nicest set of combs you've ever seen.
"Comfortable?" You ask, only a little sarcastic.
"Uh-huh! Ya know, when I found out the winner was Rook, of all people, I was a little worried. But this is way nicer than collecting dust in Ramshackle!"
You couldn't have said it better yourself.
Rook smiles. "Tsk, tsk. I would never let anyone harm a single hair on your precious head,"
The question is directed to Grim, but he looks straight at you when he says it. "Like a delicate porcelain doll, I will handle you with the utmost care,"
You're not exactly sure what you had been envisioning- maybe he'd release you on a remote island and hunt you for sport?- but this had far exceeded any of your expectations.
Though his gaze is as unsettling as ever, and any hopes of personal space are gone out the ornate glass windows, his usual guarded demeanor had softened just the tiniest bit.
It was unnerving. But nice, in a way.
"Mon trickster, this is just the beginning for us. We have many shining days ahead, and I plan on spending every beautiful breath of them with you. Do you hunt?"
"Oh, sevens," Vil murmurs.
Unfortunately for Vil, Rook's smile is contagious and you can't help encouraging him. Just this once. "Not usually, no,"
"A merveilleuse opportunity! I will teach you all I have learned, then. Ah, this reminds me of a poem I wrote for this exact occasion!"
He may or may not be watching you sleep tonight. Hopefully you're the kind of person who can live with that.
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Idia's Ending
LOL. Normies.
Look at them, crowding around like a bunch of sheep. As if anyone has a real chance. SMH.
I knew it was pointless to begin with, but getting into Crowley's banking account and seeing the bids... now I feel lame for even trying at all.
That money could've gone to some new parts. I've been itching to build another PC...
The door flies open, slamming against the wall behind it so loudly that even if Idia wasn't completely absorbed in watching the announcement on his biggest monitor, he would've jumped anyway.
He whirls around in his chair, wide-eyed and shaking like a prey animal, expecting to see some high level boss or classic horror game antag waiting for him.
Instead, it's Ortho. "Idy! You'll never believe-"
"Geez, Ortho, you nearly killed me. And I don't have any extra lives this time," Idia says, spinning back around to face his screen. "Something wrong?"
"Actually, I have some really great news! Wanna guess what it is?"
Idia grumbles, powering off his computer. "Nah, not in the mood,"
Ortho's brow furrows as he catches a fleeting glimpse of the camera feed playing over his brother's screen before it flickers to black. "You've been watching the announcement on the courtyard cam footage?"
"No! I mean- well, I was just curious," Idia says. "I watched for like two minutes. Who even cares about this thing, anyway?"
"Well-"
"I mean, it was a game over from the start. Taking on the highest level bosses at our school with my measly stats? Forget it,"
"But Idia-"
"Who even cares where the prefect ends up, anyway? I doubt they'd wanna be trapped in a basement like this for all eternity,"
"Idia!" Ortho shouts, loud enough to shake his brother from his ensuing pity party. Idia can only stare as he moves to the side, revealing a rather surprised looking you, dressed in the dorm uniform, behind him.
"Idia, you won!"
And then he dies.
That's what he thinks, anyway. Really, Idia goes into a state of complete shock and blacks out so hard that, for a moment, the blinding light shining through his eyelids feels like the light at the end of the tunnel.
"Is he okay?" you ask, tentatively watching as Ortho clicks off the small light he'd been shining in his brother's eyes.
"He's displaying symptoms of a panic attack. Don't worry, he gets them quite frequently,"
A distant groaning pulls the both of you back into the present moment and you watch Idia slowly rise.
"His heart rate has steadied to 70 BPM," Ortho says. You raise an eyebrow. "That's normal. Idia, can you hear us?"
He takes a long moment to respond.
"This isn't real. I'm sleep-deprived from my last speed run and now I'm hallucinating. There's no way,"
You look between the two brothers. This hasn't exactly gotten off to a stellar start.
"Your vitals are normal, although you're lacking Vitamin C. Might I suggest having a fruit cup while we talk?" Ortho asks. Idia shakes his head. "Yuu? Snack?"
"I could go for something,"
Ortho hovers out of the room, leaving the two of you alone. You're too nervous (or is he too nervous?) to ask to sit, so you stand over him while he practically rocks back and forth. His face is so red and hot with embarrassment you could cook an egg on it.
"Um..."
He mumbles back. "Just pretend I'm not here. IK you probably wanted one of those epic SSR students to pull you, I don't blame you for being disappointed,"
He talks so fast and quiet it's hard to make out what he's saying... but you get the gist of it.
"Hey, don't put words in my mouth. This is a hell of a lot better than it could have been,"
He seems to genuinely consider your words for a moment before you're interrupted by Ortho coming back with snacks.
Idia is back on high alert the second he's returned. "This doesn't make sense. I got into Crowley's online bank info and saw all the bids, I wasn't even close to the top five. How?"
"Oh, easy!" Ortho chirps. "I simply rewired funds from Crowley's bank account to up your offer!"
"You... took money out of his account and sent it back to him?"
"Clever," you murmur.
Idia grumbles. "I guess that's not technically stealing... fine. But why? I thought I told you not to bother!"
"My user intel indicates that the prefect is very popular amongst the student body. Their top three descriptors are helpful, kind, and friendly! I thought you two might be able to practice your social skills together... Perhaps you could show them around the dorm as a starting point?"
You turn around to look at Idia, who's sheet-white. Nonetheless... he sighs and stands, muttering a quick "Let's get this over with,"
You watch, as still as stone, as he stops in the doorway and turns to look at you from over his shoulder, his face and hair a pleasant shade of pink.
"Well? Are you coming?"
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Lilia's Ending
"And our winner... is... hm. I don't even remember seeing this one in the pile," Crowley grumbles, scratching his head under his hat. "Um, Lilia Vanrouge!"
Silver is the first to look at him. "Fa-Lilia, I thought we talked about this,"
Lilia, currently hovering in the shade of one of the courtyard's signature apple trees, simply shrugs. As if it were the most normal thing in the world.
"Oh, we did. I really thought about what you said, about the prefect's freedom, and I decided that you're right! But how could I guarantee their safety from everyone else?"
Silver groans (which turns into a yawn) and Lilia puts on his best cute look as everyone else in the audience turns to him.
Crowley clears his throat. "The prefect will be ready for your-"
"Oh, no need! Thank you, though," he says, and then disappears into the building.
---
You've been distracting yourself by counting cobwebs for far too long, as evident by your headache and the taste of dust on your tongue.
You turn to look at Grim. "Should be over by now. I'm surprised I haven't heard anything yet,"
"Surprised, you say?"
No matter how many times he does that, you're never quite prepared.
You jump, nearly hitting your head against the table you'd been taking refuge under. Grim yowls, clawing into your sleeve (and just barely missing the tender flesh on your arm, thank goodness), and you both stare at the fae ahead of you.
Lilia is sitting on the table, hanging his head upside down and staring right at you. Grim mumbles.
"Don't even tell me. I'm out!"
Lilia waves him goodbye as he makes a swift exit, and then turns back to you.
"I have a secret. Wanna guess?"
You're a little curious (aren't you always when it comes to him?) but that isn't enough to overpower your rising dread.
"No,"
"Aw. Really? I'm sure you'll like it,"
"Definitely not, then,"
He slinks off the table and lies on the floor, cupping his face in his palms and kicking his legs back and forth.
It would be amusing if you weren't so sure of what he's about to say.
"Well, despite your best efforts, I'm not surprised at all. But Malleus couldn't even come here to get me himself?" you sigh.
Lilia tilts his head to the side. "Now, why would he do that?"
There's something written within the margins of his tone that makes your eyes lower at him. Something he's keeping from you.
"...Well... he did win, didn't he?"
"Oh, my. You were hoping for Malleus to win? Now I'm sure we both feel silly,"
You raise an eyebrow. "Hoping is... a strong word. But I was expecting it, yes. So he didn't win?"
"No, dear, Malleus is not the winner,"
"Then... who is?"
Lilia gives you a sweet, self-satisfied grin, his fangs glinting. "You're looking at him,"
Ah.
If there's one thing Lilia Vanrouge is good at, it's surprising you. No matter how stoic you act, no matter how clever you are, he always manages to catch you off guard.
This might take the cake, though.
"I didn't even know-"
"No. Initially, I wasn't going to. But Silver and I... we had a long talk about valuing your freedom and independence, and thus I so valiantly threw myself into the flames to save you from becoming someone's slave," he pauses to smile. "Chivalrous, yes?"
"...Charming," you mutter. "But what was that thing about-"
"Oh, yes. Don't worry, you'll be treated as any other student at Diasomnia. In fact, I'm sure we already have some uniforms in your size!"
"This is... quite the turn of events,"
"Ah, isn't it? I haven't felt this elated in... well... a long time," he grins. "Come along, now. I plan on treating you to a hearty welcome dinner!"
You can only grimace at that.
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Malleus' Ending
During all of the confusion, the fighting, the rumors that shook the school, no one, again, had remembered to invite Malleus Draconia to the announcement.
Not that it mattered. Not this time.
One knock at Ramshackle's creaky door and you were suddenly in the depths of the forest around the school, admiring a crumbled stone structure.
"What was it?" you ask, turning to your walking companion.
Malleus smiles slightly. "I believe it was a wall. Fascinating, no? Since you have inhabited Ramshackle, I come here when I want to be alone,"
Ah, right. You'd almost forgotten that you'd made a home out of his ruins of preference.
Ramshackle was in a much better state than this, though. At least you had four walls and a roof over your head.
"Are you alone a lot these days?" you ask, rather absent-mindedly for such a heavy topic.
You're well aware of the answer already. No, of course not. Malleus is constantly surrounded, whether that be his friends, personal guard, mentors...
"Yes,"
Oh.
"I'm... sorry to hear that," it's all you can think to say.
Fae don't seem to know the conventions of human small talk. Or maybe that's just him. Not that you mind. "What about Silver, and Sebek, and Lilia...?"
"Fine companions," he crosses his arms. "I owe them a debt of gratitude. But being physically surrounded does not amount to closeness."
Oddly profound.
You can't help but relate, thinking back to everyone you know. Even with good intentions, they're still out there, bartering over your life.
"I'm glad you came and got me," you say, breaking the tense silence. "I was afraid you'd gone to that... announcement thing."
He raises an eyebrow. "The what?"
"...Never mind. I guess my point was that I've been feeling a little lonely lately, myself,"
Malleus is quiet for a moment, staring directly ahead at the mess of stones and moss that once made up a sturdy wall. Now crumbled, scattered across the ground.
And the, he smiles.
"Well, there is a solution to this trouble of ours. But I'd need your consent,"
What exactly is he getting at? You raise an eyebrow. "Go on,"
"I've been so preoccupied with the formalities that I haven't had the chance to ask you properly, yet. Lilia suggested I might have more success this way,"
He pauses, and then smiles. "I would like us to marry. Does this agree with you?"
You thought you might be stunned. Speechless, even. But the answer comes so naturally.
"Yes, it does,"
140 notes · View notes
lightlycareless · 2 days
Note
omgggg, that Toji x reader (*plus* Naoya) was incredibleee, ignore me if you want, I know you made Toji chosing to keep distance from reader and Megumi permanently BUT what if one day he ends up finally seeing Megumi, either personally or by pictures/videos 🥺 We know Megumi it's the spitted image of him, I mean, Gojo's face when he saw him for the first time said it all 😅 And also knowing his baby has the Ten Shadows technique (I cant stop thinking about how proud he was in the canon manga/anime 🥺 he always KNEW from the start Megumi was blessed/gifted, since his first breath, the fact Toji named him is not random) making the entire Zenin clan eat their shit
Heya anon!!
I'm so glad you liked it heheheheheheh a oneshot that I didn't intend to write but it just happened!! aren't we glad it did? lol
I didn't mean to ignore you, I was only focusing on other things first 😅 oof, I still have lots of request to go through, which I plan to do it slowly but surely...
Anyways, I might've not gone down that route, however... why not something angsty? I mean 😏I've had this in my mind so... yeah 😏😏😏😏😏😏😏
Warnings: mentions of infidelity. Pregnancy. Naoya is, unfortunately, a prick. this is the oneshot anon is talking about. 100% read that first hehe. this is an AU from that, so the second part doesn't count??? I guess. excuse the proofreading. also I haven't written toji that much so please excuse my oocness as well ahahahahha :')
Happy reading!
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As much as the three hoped to ignore the bases of your pregnancy, behave as it didn’t rise from an adulterous act, a direct transgression to the principles of the Zen’in, and keep it a secret, it wouldn’t take long before the guilt in each other’s mind began to weight heavy on their mind, ultimately betraying them and revealing the truth to the light, excusing the angered elders to finally get rid of two birds with one stone.
“Where—Where does this accusation even come from?!” You gasp, blood turning cold at the implication—at the notion of the truth. “Do you know the gravity of such words?!”
“Better than you of the act, it seems.” Another accuses. “We were quite aware of the rumors surrounding your ill-fitting behavior, but we never believed it would actually extend to this point!”
“I—I won’t tolerate neither of you disrespecting me!” you cry. “Nor will Naoya for that matter!”
But calling for his aid would no longer prove sufficient, for Naoya, too deep in his own insecurities by that point, had come to the disheartening conclusion that this situation had gotten way out of hand for a simple diversion.
A supposed act of mercy.
He shouldn’t have let this happen in the first place, should’ve respected what you and your marriage represented, what meant to him, and discard his pity for Toji—the man has been alone most of his life, what difference would that make that now?
But he didn’t, he allowed you to go to Toji—no, he handed you over to him, thinking he was doing something right for his cousin, or perhaps something deep inside him was allured by the sick idea of you being with another man and now, he was suffering the consequences.
Consequences he did not like, not one bit—because it got too real for him: you were now pregnant, with Toji’s child, and not his.
And this only highlighted what he considered the pitfalls of this relationship, a strike against his ego and the supposed inability to beget children, a rumor that grew bigger and bigger by each passing day, spreading like wildfire to the point where even outsiders became aware of it.
Which, for a prideful man like Naoya, was only a nightmare.
He loved you, he really did—Naoya never envisioned spending the rest of his life with anyone else…
But he loved his pride more, and when his clan began to actively confront him about it, he couldn’t take it anymore.
And thus….
“…Naoya?”
“This marriage was broken before it even started.” Your husband would say, unexpected words that pierced straight to your heart. “My family advised me well in avoiding you, but I falsely believed I could achieve differently.”
“What—what are you even saying?” you breathe. “What do you mean by—by differently?”
And… where does everything you lived with him stand?
The time you spent with him, the sweet nothings he’d whisper into your ear, to love you both swore to one another, reminding each other that there was no one else that compares…
And that you were the only woman who has ever made him feel this way—loved— and would do everything in the world to make happy…
Was it… all … a lie?
All for… nothing?
Or were you the only one that actually believed the other’s words?
“I cannot look past these transgressions.” Naoya continues. “You’ve left me no choice.”
“But you—you made me do this!” you gasp. “I never—I never wanted to be with anyone else! All this time, my heart only belonged to you!  How could you—how could you abandon me after all we’ve gone through together?!”
Naoya doesn’t say anything else anymore, instead, he simply turns around, exiting the room to leave you in the hands of the vengeful elders who did not hesitate to do what they had long desired—banish you from the estate.
Swiftly yet cruelly, you wouldn’t be able to take anything with you, not even a change of clothes or even money (you didn’t even ask for much, just enough to survive the week) as you were forced to face a new life of your own—alone, pregnant.
Going back to your family was also out of the question; the shame that you’d bring upon their name was one the Zen’in didn’t not waste time to remind them of—at the end, there was only so much your father and siblings could do against the invasive ways of the elders, and perhaps, a part of them deep inside, were also disappointed that you’ve succumbed to such foul thing.
And so, you were tossed onto the street, with nothing more than the clothes you were wearing, whatever you had for savings throughout the years, managed to take it out before either clan could close your account—but most importantly, with a broken heart you believe will never heal, not after the grave wound your husband’s indifference inflicted on it.
The pain you couldn’t even mourn properly due to all the things you had to worry about now.
The first thing you did was search for a place to stay, though getting one was proving to be an almost impossible task.
Thankfully, you were allowed to keep one other thing, maybe it eluded their minds when all this was happening, but you’re not going to question why when it was going to help you pay for a roof.
Naoya’s ring, your wedding ring, was something many would consider expensive, the kind of flashiness expected from a prestigious family like the Zen’in.
You remember a time when any kind of ring would’ve been enough for you to marry him. You didn’t need anything extraordinary to commit your life and heart to him.
That’s nothing but a far cry from what you felt now.
It still hurt to pawn it, but it was the only way you could accommodate yourself and the unborn child inside you, in the only area you could afford with what you got, for even then many suspected that your ring… well, had dubious origins.
When was the last time you even had to worry about the costs of living? Food, clothes, water…?
Many years—it had to; ever since you got together with Naoya, he’s been the one that took care of you.
You just had to say the word and he’d disappear all of your worries—even from the simplest of wants, Naoya indulgingly obliged.
It was a happy life you eventually considered for your child—imagining how happy they’d grow to be without a single worry, solely focusing on what they’ll have to play that day, or how to escape their over doting parents.
A long-gone dream, tossed to the side as a nightmare quickly took its place.
Did Naoya ever mean the words I love you?
Or was he doing all this just to keep you there, complying, just in case someone better came along, just like his clan wished would happen?
There mere thought of his devotion being nothing but an act tightens your heart with sorrow once more, gifting you the tragic notion that perhaps, all this time, you never knew your husband…
Maybe ex-husband, by this point.
All that was left from those moments, the slightest semblance of that marriage was this baby, created from what you thought your unconditional devotion to him, turning out to be your very own downfall.
The only one that would know of these struggles would be your baby, the one to accompany you through the darkest point of your life, hopefully to a brigther dawn.
And yet… you’ve never felt so alone.
Time surprisingly, went quicker than you anticipated, though not as easy as you would’ve wanted.
Life in your new home was still very difficult to get used to, even when it’s been months since… that.
But with the job you managed to get (whatever place hired pregnant women—they’re supposed to be at home, some would say, you didn’t care.) and some extra jujutsu work you did on the side, you managed, enough to give you a, not exactly comfortable, but just enough lifestyle.
As long as you sacrificed all the things you once considered granted and turned them into luxuries: such as warm showers, take out, and the sweets you liked to indulge once in a while; your pregnancy has been horrible because of that, and that’s without considering the medical bills you’re struggling to pay as well.
But if that wasn’t enough, your noisy neighbors presented issues of their own as well.
You’re not going to deny that your presence there was like moths to a flame, starting from your somewhat suspicious acquisition—all cash—of the small house you were living in.
From there, your loneliness, alongside your pregnancy; single mothers were unheard of, or rather, highly criticized, thus, all eyes were on you, down to your smallest movement.
Yet, even then, as annoying as they were, you were ok as long as it meant you never get to see those that hurt you ever again.
However, what you want isn’t necessarily what’s going to happen, and that would be reminded of one fateful night with an unsuspecting knock, just after you were getting ready to go to bed.
It wouldn’t be the first time someone came to bother you, but it would be the first time someone did so at this hour, and with such insistence that far from worrying you, it made you angrily storm at the entrance, ready to demand who’d be so inconsiderate enough to visit you so late at night!
And you’d get your answer soon enough, in the most shocking, horrifying, if not sorrowful manner you could’ve possibly anticipated, prompting you to close the door as soon as you saw his face, or attempted to, his reflexes much faster than yours.
“Get—get away from me!” you shrieked, hands trembling as you did your best to hold the door shut against his overwhelming strength— but even your husband has admitted that in terms of power, he excels like no one else.
“Y/N—” he breathes, somewhat amused that you’d been able to hold him off as much as you could, though eventually he was able to break free from your grasp and enter your home, you step away from him soon after.
“What are you even doing here?!” you gasp. “No—that doesn’t matter! I don’t want to see you! I’m not going back!”
“I’m not here to take you back” He quickly responds, eyes falling down to your stomach, making his face soften at the subtle bump evident through your clothes—with this sight, he knows he can’t take you back.
“Then—then why are you here, Toji?”
Perhaps Toji needed to see through his own eyes, what the whispers went on about at the estate regarding your absence.
He wasn’t there when it happened, promised himself to be far away from you as soon as your pregnancy was announced to the estate.
Toji would’ve normally taken this opportunity to act on retribution against his family, rub it on their face that the future of the clan came from him, a low life.
But he couldn’t bring himself to do so when you cheerfully paraded around the halls, happy to finally be forming a family with your beloved husband, even though it wasn’t of his making.
For the first time in his life, he thought himself to be too cruel for having planned such atrocities against the only person that has never been rude with him, always welcoming him with a smile on your face, or at least whatever you permitted when not following Naoya around like a lost puppy.
And the baby… well, he won’t deny that he was glad that his child would have a vastly different life from his—with you as his mother, it couldn’t be any other way.
Or so he believed.
Even when promising to keep away, he still attempted to check in on you, especially now that you were pregnant, whenever he had to go to the estate that is. That day was no be no exception, begrudgingly coming back to see what else he could scam out of his family to ensure his living outside.
Toji’s slyly scanned the hallways for your figure, the briefest indication of such, either through your giggle, staff, or even his cousin’s annoying voice—there were moments where he imagined how delightful it must’ve been to have you by his side, instead of Naoya’s; to be receiver of your laughter instead of that man who clearly didn’t deserve you.
But even if it was with him, he still found comfort in the fact that you were around, there.
Not like now, gone from Naoya’s side.
In fact, you were nowhere to be seen! Not with your staff, not eating by the gardens, or even indulging in one of your husband’s idiocies.
Nothing.
And no one had seen you either.
Or more like didn’t want to say, that much became evident when he stomped his way towards a nearby staff member, demanding your whereabouts, only to be responded with a fret falsely feigning ignorance, or foolish diplomacy.
At the prospect of your disappearance, Toji felt his blood run cold, almost like the estate lost whatever little warmth it had, worsening each time he asked another servant, and he’d get the same answer.
The implications behind your absence were growing heavier in his mind, to the point it sunk his heart to his stomach…
And propelled him to the one person who would undoubtedly know where you were.
“Naoya—Where is Y/N?!” Toji commands the moment he sees the heir, the young man instinctively flinched at the sight of his angered cousin, almost as if he knew what was running through his mind and attempted to make a run for it, only to be stopped by the collar, dead on his tracks. “Do not run away, coward! Answer me!”
“She’s—she’s not here anymore.” Is what Naoya manages to squeak, but Toji doesn’t need to be reminded the obvious.
“Where. Is. She.” He hisses, the worst of his assumptions slowly becoming a reality. “What have you done to her?!”
“What—what needed to be done!” Naoya gasps. “I—I couldn’t allow it!”
Toji doesn’t remember much after Naoya told him that the clan decided she was better off on her own—only that the heir was on the floor, bloodied and whimpering while attempting to cover his face, either trying to control the throbbing of his skin, the blood from spilling anywhere else, or perhaps even shame.
No. It couldn’t be the last. To have done something like what he did required a shameless man to do so.
Nonetheless Toji didn’t bother to find out nor to be reprimanded, quick to assert what needed to be done and heading out the estate; he couldn’t even bother cursing those that had done nothing but the worst after the worst, each time a new low, for his mind solely pertained in finding you.
It took him a while to do so, as expected, but he knew it was only a matter of asking around for a woman that simply didn’t fit to do the job—and such, here he is now.
“I want—needed to see you.” Toji takes a step closer.
“Get—get away from me.”
“No, I’m afraid I can’t do that.”
“You were fine doing that before—what’s so different from now?” You spat.
“This is different, Y/N. You’re alone—and you need me.”
“I’m not alone—I don’t need you.” You gasp. “Get away from me or I’ll—I’ll call the police!.”
“If you don’t need me, then the baby does.”
It’s like he struck a nerve with his words, because soon after tears would begin to fall down your cheeks, revealing that the sight you attempted to portray, the strength you so fiercely put up against him, was nothing but a façade, a way to hide the fact that indeed, you needed help.
Exhausted from facing all these uncertainties on your own, afraid.
But not anymore, not when Toji was here, more than willing to step in, as seen in the way he swiftly holds you in his arms when he sees you almost faint from distress, attempting to comfort you as you continued to cry.
“Get— get away from me…!” you’d say again, still fighting against his hold. However, he doesn’t fight it, he simply allows you to vent, taking in all the pain and hatred your heart harbored from the moment you were kicked out of the estate. “Don’t touch me!”
“I’m not leaving” Toji insists, he feels you trying to squirm your way out from him, but his strength doesn’t allow it. “You can struggle all you want, but I’m not leaving you on your own—”
“What difference does it make to you? Your family abandoned me to my luck! And even forced my family to do the same!” you breathe, Toji’s eyes widen—he did not know that; his fury for the Zen’in grows, but this is not the time to deal with that. “They don’t care if I die on the street!”
“I know.” He murmurs, holding you tighter against him.
“And I—And I tried my best to—to move on, but I can’t! I can’t do it!” you sob. “I’m so alone, and scared, and—and ashamed! I don’t want to live like this anymore!! I don’t want to die!”
“…I know.”
“Why—why is this happening to me?! All I ever wanted was for—was for Naoya to love me. I never wanted anything else! I never wanted money, I never wanted to hurt anyone either! I just—I just wanted to live a happy life with him, to make him happy!
But then he—he tossed me away, at one thing he didn’t like, he acted like I didn’t even matter! He didn’t even put up a fight to defend me! he just—he just let them hurt me, like what we had was—a lie!
 Did he never—did he even love me?”
Speechless, all Toji could do is continue holding you as you kept on pouring out your feelings, hearing the heart wrenching sound of your sobs that just kept reflecting how wounded you were by Naoya’s betrayal, the transgressions of his family, and the disappointment of yours.
And all because of something you didn’t even suggest in the first place. It was him who made his way into Naoya’s mind, and eventually, it was Naoya who pushed you into it, regardless of what happened later.
He wanted to do it; you know?
He wanted to go back there and murder them for all they’d done against you.
But when he left that place one last time, he promised he would stop thinking about himself, and start doing what is right—what was needed.
If Naoya wasn’t to step up and be a man, then he would.
Toji would gladly throw away his own pride, his own anger and thirst for vengeance, just to see you safe and happy once more.
Things your husband, could simply not—but he… he’d do it in a heartbeat.
“I promise you.” Toji would reassure you once carefully placing you down to the bed after tiring yourself from crying, followed by a gentle kiss on the top of your head.
 “I swear, Y/N— I will not let my family do the same things they’ve done to me to our child. Even if it costs me my life, I will do everything in my power to keep the two of you safe.”
And unlike your husband, he means it.
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Yes, a second part is coming :) just gotta put this one out first hehe.
Anyways, it's not exactly what you asked but I think it's going there??? I mean Toji STEPPED UP and was like OK imma take care of my baby mama. also, here Naoya .I. put it where it fits. ugh, can't say we're done with him...
agihajkgksa I'm excited for what's to come, I haven't written this level of angst in a while!! oof!!!
Thank you so much for your patience and for sending this ask :> I'm super happy you've like my oneshot so much!! I hope you'll be able to like this too!!
Take care, and see you soon! ❤️❤️
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weaselle · 1 day
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@ffoxer howdy! happy to oblige :)
i used to have a dresser and a bunch of hangers in my closet and like, closet organizer thingamabobs, but instead of using any of that stuff my clothes were always in several piles around my room.
And i felt shitty about it all the time but couldn't seem to make myself the kind of person who kept their clothes folded and organized. My room was constantly cluttered with clothes like drifts of snow scattered and piled here and there. Like, i felt really REALLY shitty about that. Deep shame
any ADHDers and spoonies out there relate?
SO one day, i said to myself, what if i'm okay the way i am? What if i just need to refine how i already do things a little bit instead of insisting on reinventing my entire identity?
Did i really care about being the kind of person who's socks were rolled just so, and whose shirts were all folded perfectly and arranged by color or whatever?
no
What i did care about was not living in a cluttered, messy, unorganized, embarrassing space.
And it turns out my piles WERE an organization system. What's more, my piles were a system that had been shaped by the way i actually use my clothes, it was a system that made sense for how i live my life. And i bet it's the same for most of you who relate to what i've been saying so far.
There were the clothes that were dirty, the clothes that had been worn but could be worn again, and the clean clothes (often dumped from the washer to the bed with the intent of folding and putting away, then slept next to when that didn't happen, and finally transferred to the floor next to my bed or piled in my closet once i gave up)
These three piles (dirty, clean, wear again) made up my "i wear this stuff all the time" wardrobe, and then everything else was still in the dresser i never actually used, with a few remaining almost-never-worns hanging in the closet.
This made my dresser, essentially, just a bin of clothes i could label "rarely wear"
And the thing i hated about my piles was that they looked messy, and took up too much space, and cluttered my room, and anyone who came into my room instantly assumed i was a disaster of a human because that's what it looked like. And, honestly, that's what it felt like too.
But i could change all of that and still have piles if i just... put my piles in bins! Then they would clearly be on purpose. And contained. And on purpose contained piles aren't a mess! They're a tidy organizational system.
So i got rid of my dresser and most of my hangers and i bought four of those plastic bins with the lids that you can get anywhere from hardware stores to target. Now, if you want to inhabit a fancier lifestyle, you can get nicer bins, they make all kinds, from canvas to wicker to polished wood or whatever suits your style and budget, I'm currently using the plastic ones, but when i move i'm planning on getting something more like this
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the point is, these bins contain my piles without me having to change the piles at all.
now instead of having to sort all that stuff into different drawers i just have 4 simple bins
1: clean clothes
2: dirty clothes
3: stuff i might wear a second (or third) time
4: clothes i almost never wear
remember how those first three piles make up my "wear all the time" stuff? Well, each of the first two bins are big enough to contain all those clothes (which for me is about two loads of laundry).
I have a smaller bin for clothes i've worn but could wear again. And the last one, almost-never-wear, is actually the biggest one. And naturally a couple almost-never-wear things still get hung in the closet.
So when my "wear all the time" bin is empty, that means the dirty bin is about full, and i just add the might-wear-again stuff to it and carry that bin to the washer. When it comes out of the dryer, i still follow my natural instincts to dump them in a pile and forget about them, it's just now i dump that pile into the clean bin, where they belong.
And when i'm digging for something in the bin and can't find it, just like when i would dig in my closet, i can just dump it all out on my bed to find things like i used to, but then it goes back in the bin with a sweep of the arm.
The clothes naturally sort themselves out this way, too. Say every time you go to do your laundry because you "have nothing to wear" there are the same few items left in the bottom of your clean bin. Well those are clearly part of your almost-never-wears and you can dump them in that bin before you wash your laundry. When the weather gets cold, i put most of my shorts and tank-tops in the almost-never-wear bin. I make room for them by taking out my everyday winter wear to go in the clean bin.
I can put the bins where it makes the most sense for how i use my room naturally. For instance, my sweatshirts and jeans i might wear again always used to wind up draped over the back of my desk chair, so now i put my could-wear-again bin right by my desk. If I want my room to be extra tidy, i just stack all the bins in the closet where the dresser used to be, which takes like twenty seconds.
and the BEST part is, because my bins are just the piles i was naturally already creating, my clothes stay in their bins, which is inarguably a system of organization, and my room is actually clean and orderly, no messy clothes piles in sight!
i did a similar thing with my paper piles and now there's very little clutter and i don't feel like a failure of a person about my room the way i used to!
I have accomplished Clean Organized Room without having to change who i am or how i live! 10/10 highly recommend
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WIBTA if I asked my girlfriend to get me a replacement mask?
So I and my girlfriend (both adults) are in a long-distance relationship and live on different continents but visit each other for periods of weeks to months at a time. As background context, my girlfriend is notoriously bad with money - she's owed me over $1500 for half a year now after I covered some big expenses for her when she was unable to save in time, though I've told her there's no particular deadline for giving it back and to just do it when she's able, but she's also borrowed money from her parents, she's paying off a credit card debt, and despite having a full-time job she seems completely unable to save anything substantial and is constantly buying things.
We both like a certain musician, and this shared interest in the musician is actually how we met in the first place and bonded. They've dropped some merch in the past, and it always sold out within 5-10 minutes, and they're borderline impossible to get now unless you a) are lucky enough to find another fan who's giving theirs away, which is super rare because of how hard they are to replace, or b) are willing to fork out thousands of dollars for a resold one on some dodgy site somewhere. One of the merch items I got from one of those drops was a facemask, and my girlfriend has a matching one - I can't remember if it was something I bought for her, since I did that with some merch if I got there in time, or one she bought herself. It became a huge comfort item for me - I'm both autistic and have avoidant personality disorder, so I'm almost always in some kind of mask to hide my face, and this one being connected to a special interest as well as comfortable and a perfect size (and goes with all my clothes!) made me super happy. Last time she visited, we joked around about having identical masks but that it was easy to tell which one was hers because it had makeup stains all over the inside.
As she packed to leave, I mentioned that I couldn't find my mask anywhere and asked if she'd picked mine up as well as hers by accident, so she dug through her bags and said she didn't have it, only hers. I was kinda disappointed but I figured it'd turn up sooner or later so I accepted it, and she flew back home.
A few days later, she let me know she'd unpacked and discovered she actually did have both our masks. I asked her to send it back to me, and she said she would.
Fast forward a few months, I'd asked a few more times, and she always said she would soon. Eventually, when I asked one time, she told me she'd lost it. Her mother had tidied her entire room and she no longer had any idea where either of our masks were. I was kind of frustrated so I asked why she couldn't have just sent it over when I initially asked, and she snapped back that she couldn't afford it, which doesn't make much sense to me because she definitely does have enough to send over a flat envelope, which a fabric face mask would easily fit in just like a letter.
It's been a few months since then and I've been looking and looking for any kind of replacement, but all I can find are knock-off versions that are made from different materials or don't look the same. I did see one resold for like $20 ages ago, so it definitely happens, but it's so rare.
WIBTA if I told my girlfriend I'm expecting her to replace the one she lost even if it's putting more financial pressure on her? I feel really dumb for getting so upset about a mask, but it was one of my favourite belongings and it's genuinely upsetting that it was taken and lost.
To get out ahead of any comment saying it, I have full 100% faith that she did not do it intentionally and she didn't sell it or anything like that. She wouldn't have even thought about the possibility of doing that and I absolutely believe it was an accident and she just grabbed both masks or had been holding onto mine for me and forgotten it was in a bag etc.
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OK-so it's Wednesday and WIPs and all that
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ok so i meant to get back to hockey and books 'cuz that's where i wanna be right now but my brain was in a not so creative place until someone broke me out of it last night
so for wirp wednesday i got bits of a new thing that is gonna be part of a series NOT-SO-MUCH ONE NIGHT STANDS (cuz well they don't necessarily stay that way) that i've already got 2 fics going for - one firstprince and one liam/pez cuz well that's apparently really becoming a thing for me
so first thanks @suseagull04 for the out of context lines tag - i have something for that too (not one of those other ones) throwing this on here too cuz i can lol
He kisses Henry on the cheek, whispers, “Get me whatever you wanna share,” and sneaks up to the office when everyone is finalizing the breakfast order
thank you so much for the wip wed tags @jmagnabo92 @theprinceandagcd @suseagull04 @firenati0n @adreamareads
@piratefalls @duchessdepolignaca03 @thesleepyskipper oh! and stealing @kiwiana-writes and @cha-melodius open tags cuz that's what they're for :)
nsfw words & tags (it's the words nsfw not the tags lol)beneath the tag
Now, it’s moments like right now, where he’s biting his way across Alex’s thighs, thighs sprinkled with just the right amount of hair, hairy in the way that Henry likes, not just a dusting but actual hair that catches on his tongue as he lavishes the spots he’s sucked bruises into. These moments are the ones that make him so glad he got away from everything else. He can have this anonymous moment with someone so hot he doesn’t want to kick him out the way he has the others eventually. It’s halfway through the morning after, and they’ve yet to get out of bed for more than bathroom trips – one of those with some spectacular moments in the shower – and some quick trips to the kitchen for drinks and some quick snacks when Alex lures him into turning on the tv and watching a movie after round three. They barely make it through the movie when Henry is orgasming for the fourth time that night. Henry is no stranger to multiple orgasms; he’s in his low 20s and knows that brings with it a quicker refractory period. But Alex, the stranger who’s fast working on filling Henry in on every aspect of his life so it no longer feels that way, is doing things for that quick refractory period he’s never experienced before.  Henry doesn’t know how he got so lucky last night when he accompanied Pez and Liam to the club, but he is beyond happy that Liam decided to bring his friend, and that said friend was agreeable to finding his way into Henry’s bed.
if ya already did this and i missed it i'm sure i'll find it - consider me a top gun pilot doing a fly-by lolz
tagging: @agame-writes @agostobuwan @anincompletelist @bitbybitwrites
@dragonflylady77 @england-would-fall @firstsprinces @forever-fixating
@getmehighonmagic @heysweetheart-writes @hgejfmw-hgejhsf @inexplicablymine
@itsmaybitheway @jellibuns @junebugclaremontdiaz @littlemisskittentoes
@lizzie-bennetdarcy @magicandarchery @mikibwrites @msmarvelouswinchester
@nocoastposts @priincebutt @sophie1973 @stellarm
@tailsbeth-writes @thedramasummer @thinkof-england @cricketnationrise
@tinyarmedtrex @typicalopposite @wordsofhoneydew @yrsacdfox
@captainjunglegym @bigassbowlingballhead @eusuntgratie @violetbaudelaire-quagmire
DON'T MIND ME JUST ADDING AN IMPORTANT TAG THE SUN IN MY EYES MADE ME MISS LOLZ @taste-thewaste
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naompspsps · 2 days
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*Backflips into your ask box* DONT WORRY I WASNT ACTUALLY FALLING DPWN OR UP THE STAIRS but at this point you probably already know what I’m gonna say! I’d like to see how the other dorms, like Pomfiore would react to 1950s reader 🤭 I imagine rook and Vil would be quite happy to see how fashion was back then
"He found a new favorite lmfao"
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Summary: Vil and Rook officially loves you as his model. Forget Epel, He picked you up from the streets and kept you /hj
Ft. Pomefiore Boys
A/n: *Opens ask box and npc jumps* omg hi again, oh whats that? Pomefiore?? *brings out draft folders* HERE I ALREADY HAVE IT 😊 *smacks with the post*
Ahem, Yeah here. This is Pomefiore yall, My favorite dorm. YOU CAN TELL WHY ITS MY FAVORITE DORM VILS THERE. I genuinely want to be his favorite wth
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
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You were the expert with self defense. In your time, You would always slap or smack the heck out of all the kidnappers. But on the other hand, You were also a sweetheart, someone that loves doing makeup. Someone that really... Hates getting stalked by a horse.
What can you do? Hit the horse? Tell your parents? Yeah, You tried telling your parents and they checked from afar saying there's nothing there. You look back to see and nothing was really there. Are you getting haunted?
The only way is to approach it carefully to see its true intentions. On your way to your friend's house, you see the horse again. You recognize that carriage, the horse staring into your soul, and the slow walking.
You slowly approach it. It doesn't move away or anything, You think it's a good sign. As you get closer to it, You take an apple out of your pocket, softly handing it one.
The horse was looking at it for a moment before taking a bite of the apple. You really thought it was actually nice? Never believe anyone or anything out the window.
The horse knocks you out with its head, and you end up waking up is such a hassle, hearing weird voice whispers, your eyes blurred but you see some things floating. Once you open your eyes, you turn back to see a monster-
Wait, That doesn't look like a monster. That's a cat! When the cat turns around, flaming cat? Huh?!
You panic, what kind of- You get up and back away from the flaming cat, and you run out of the room.
At this point you don't know where you're going.
Just run as fast as you could.
You can hear it screaming and chasing after you. What do you do?-- Kick it?! That's called animal abuse.. Is it for a good reason? Is getting chased down a good reason?
Oh whatever, just keep running. You stop at a library, running around. That is until you bumped into a man. You have absolutely no idea what could happen to you right now, You ask him millions of questions. Questions that he may be unable to answer as he was more confused.
He wasn't angry or anything, he just took you in this room with seven more people in the same clothes as you. However, A red haired and one with glasses left the room to escort that flaming cat that chased you around.
"Mx. [Name], Meet the Housewardens." Crowley points at them. You tilt your head to the side, what the actual gardening is a housewarden??
"Uh- I'm not a housewarden." Lilia raises his hand up. "Just here cus' Malleus isn't." He adds. "And I was only forced to go.. Because of an emergency that doesn't even look like an emergency.." Idia mumbles, covering himself with the hood.
"Whatever. Anyways, This poor student is very confused, and it's stressing me out. This headmage is generous, only to receive such stress.."
"So Dramatic, He could fit in perfectly with my next film." Vil whispers. Lilia looks at you, inspecting your makeup and your hairstyle. Feels like he's seen those before.. Oh, And those accessories? That's what he gifted Malleus on his birthday more than 50 years ago.
Weren't those jewelries already gone in the 60s? How come you still have them? Ah dear.. It's probably just from a grandparent. He needs to stop making these theories. "My, My, what beautiful fashion you have there." Vil speaks up, breaking the awkward silence in the room.
"Oh, Uh.. Thank you! It's actually trending these days." You smile. "Trending??" Idia asks himself. He does not know what trending you mean by that, but whatever it is he knows from the internet that Vil's makeup is the trending one. "Okay, I'm getting reaaal confused here.." Idia mutters.
"That's my issue, Mr. Shroud." Crowley lets out a frustrated sigh. "Okay- You all aren't obviously useful, So I'll just handle this." Vil shoos everyone and walks closer to you. He puts a hand infront of you, asking for a handshake. "Vil Schoenheit." He introduces himself.
You accept the handshake. "Nice to meet you." You smile. "See? It's just that easy. No need to treat them like a lost sheep." Vil turns to all of them. "So- You're gonna help me?" Crowley asks. Vil just rolls his eyes. "Yes. If anything, I know you aren't gonna do anything,"
"So I suggest you should just go." He looks at you, completely happy. "I'd be happy to help you answer all your questions. Let us go back to my dorm, and clear everything out of the way."
Finally, Someone helpful. You thought to yourself. "Thank you." You bow your head. "It's not a problem, My dear."
Everyone's gone back to their dorms, And you followed Vil in a magical mirror. But before he entered, he lookd at you. "Do not be afraid, just enter the mirror." He walks in the mirror. "Okay.. Don't be afraid. Don't... Be- AFRAID-"
You rush in the mirror, Safely entering, You look up. Woah! "Is this your house?" You ask him, and he just laughs. "Oh, No, This is the dorm."
Ohhh... You hum lightly and follow him all the way inside. "Rook! We have someone you might like!" Vil shouts, And Rook just comes out of nowhere. "Yes, Roi du po- Oh my! Bonjour!" He waves at you.
You wave back, yet it was a bit awkward. "That's Rook, And Rook, This is [Name]."
"Such a beautiful name for a beautiful person!"
Vil walks up to a couch and sits, patting beside him. "Rook, go get us tea."
While Rook was gone, Vil clears his throat. "So, On our way to the dorms, Lilia was talking to me about you, So I'm just testing if he was really true about that." Lilia?? Who's that? You wonder. "Uh, Sure?"
"What year do you think you're in right now?" Huh? What kind of question was that? "Erm, 1957?" You answered truthfully. Vil was quiet. You thought you said something wrong. Were you supposed to say something else? "I see, Seems like Lilia was right about his guesses."
"What do you mean?" You ask him. Seriously, You're so confused. "How do I say this.. Well, would you believe me if I said you aren't in 1957?" You freeze in your spot. "Pardon?-"
"You aren't in the 50s." He directly replies. "But don't be afraid. Must be because your fate should've been in the modern, so the horse picked you up from the past and took you here."
Is he smart? Looks like it, But do you believe him? Also yes. If he mentioned about the horse without you mentioning it first, then he must be telling the truth, that's just how you tell if it's the truth or the lie.
"Ah yes.. The horse- I- Uh, Does it knock you out like that?" You ask. "It knocked you out?" You nod, crossing your arms. "Mhm, I was feeding it an apple thinking the reason why it kept following me was because it was hungry, but knocked me out a few seconds later."
"Strange, It's supposed to just wait as you enter. That's.. A pretty violent way to help you enter." Vil chuckles lightly. "Well I'd call it kidnapping if I was supposed to enter with no explanation." You add. Vil hums, placing his leg over his other leg.
"Interesting. The 50s makeup looks very Interesting." He points at your face. Rook comes back. "Here is the tea, Roi du Poison."
Vil takes the cups of tea, giving one to you. "Thank you Rook, Sit down. I have unbelievable news about them." Vil takes a sip of his tea, And Rook sits down beside you, taking his cup of tea from the table.
"Do you believe in the rumours about the horse taking people from the past due to the fate's decision?"
"Yes." Rook answers, He looks at Vil, Who was gesturing you with his eyes. It took him a while to understand, but when he did. "Ohh.. What?! They came from-"
"1957." You cut Rook off. "But something to add in the rumour, The horse knocks them out instead of waiting for them to enter." You watch the two interact. You wanna laugh at the way Rook has his jaw down, does he really just not believe the knocking out part?
"No. Way." Rook sips from his cup. "Yes way." Vil sets his cup on the table. "My, That explains the beautiful style you have." Rook observes you more. "Haha.. It's just- 50s makeup."
"It looks amazing." Vil chuckles, then stops after having an idea in mind. "Actually, I want you to wear what you all used to wear. You may use my wardrobe, I have tons of clothes that you might take as your liking."
"That's.. Not a bad idea, Roi du Poison! Amazing thinking as usual!"
"I know right~" Vil flips his hair, His hair is a bit short, but how on earth did he manage to flip it like how long haired people would? "I don't see any trouble with that." Your eyes sparkle. You're obsessed with fashion, so seeing how people dress these days can also help you, but you have to dress up like how people in your time would in return, of course.
"What the actual heck- I MEAN- What is this." Epel appears inside the lounge. He just wanted to get his textbook.. Not bump into Vil! God.. "Oh yes, Right. This is Epel!" Rook points at him.
"Epel should really learn better from [Name]."
"WHO EVEN IS THAT??" Epel looks at Vil, Then his eyes focuses to you. "Ohhh, It's them?" Epel nods. "Alright. Cool.." He mumbles before leaving the lounge. You tilt your head confusedly. "Sorry, Epel is just.. Bad mannered. He needs to learn to stop using defense."
Oh. Damn. "Uh.." You awkwardly hum. "What is it, What's the matter?" Vil asks you. "It's just that.. He.. Isn't the only one that uses defense?" You whisper.
"I uh, Also use defense.." You can hear the silence grow, Should you say something else? "B-but it's not for anything bad, no! Back in my place in that time, There's just alot of kidnappers. So I learned self defense." You think about it again. Was that a good reason?
"Well, That's a good reason to use it. But he just uses it for fun." Vil shrugs. You and Rook automatically look at each other and showing each other eye gestures that you surprisingly understood.
"Well, Let's just go try out the little fashion show idea-" Rook stands up, as you laugh nervously and also stand up. Vil sighs. "Why, Of course, How could I forget that." He smiles softly.
The three of you head to Vil's room, still talking about how things are in your time. While you all talk, Epel watches you all from afar with other Pomefiore students. "Wow." A pomefiore student whispers.
"He found a new favorite, Lmfao." Another Pomefiore student says. Epel jumps in victory. "I'M FREE! WE'RE FREE! HE'LL FINALLY STOP NAGGING US TO BE WELL-MANNERED!"
"YAHOOO!!"
...
"Do you both hear that?" You ask Vil and Rook. "Ignore that." Rook adds, shoving you in Vil's room before he enters and closes the door.
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Author's End Note: Yall actually didn't change in the same room, You guys just went to grab some clothes to try in the dressing room. 💀 VIL, ROOK AND YOU AS HEATHERS??? Epel as Veronica HAHAHAH "do you have a problem???" Srsly tho, You Three being a gossip trio.
! do not repost or translate my works anywhere. do not copy or use my works in any site, Reblogs are appreciated alot though !
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narryffdreaming · 2 days
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A TOAST TO THE FUTURE — THREE
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Summary: Aurora and Harry used to be friends, but life happened and they grew apart. Now, 6 years later, they meet again.
Rating: +18
WARNINGS: The story contains explicit language and mentions a past abusive relationship (mostly the consequences of psychological/emotional abuse). Some chapters also contain explicit sexual content.
PART THREE: 6,9k words Author’s note: ngl I thought this was "too short", and then I saw it's around 7k and realized that maybe this isn't short, but the other parts are just "too long", lol. Clearly I can't control myself. But anyway, this is part three and Aurora and Harry (finally) arrive in Italy. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do :)
PART ONE || PART TWO
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As it turns out, both Aurora and Harry completely forgot about the one hour time change, so whilst they thought they'd arrive around eleven, by the time they landed in Naples it was actually a few minutes after 12. 
They realized, then, that since they would go together to Amalfi, sharing a taxi would be cheaper than taking the train — like they had both initially planned to do. Which is how Aurora ends up leaning against a white wall at arrivals, watching their bags while Harry wanders around and does some research for them. 
Outside, the day is bright and sunny, something she's been admiring non-stop through the huge glass wall in front of her. Rays of light keep the exposed skin in her arms and chest warm, so there's no need for her to wear Harry's jacket anymore — although a part of her wishes she still had a reason to, just to keep smelling his cologne. 
"Hey!" Harry calls, and Aurora turns her head to the side. 
He approaches her confidently, pulling his hair back and smiling while strutting through the airport as if he owns the place. It's kind of impossible not to follow every one of his movements, and she's pretty sure anyone who lays their eyes on him would think exactly the same. 
"It's done," he says, then raises both hands and gives her a double thumbs up. "Got us a taxi." 
Summer looks good on him. It makes his skin glow, it highlights his tattoos, and it makes his happiness seem… Well… Even happier. 
"Oh," she says, blinking and stepping away from the wall. "Great."
She clears her throat and glances to her phone, double-checking for the fiftieth time that her texts to Zack remain unanswered.
It's been over four hours since she texted him, and although she isn't surprised by his lack of interaction, she can't deny that it sucks to know he intentionally avoids replying to her texts — and that she probably won't hear from him until Sunday night, when he drops Noah off.
"No words from him yet?" Harry asks, now standing only a couple of steps across from her. 
Aurora shakes her head and locks the screen, then looks up and faces him again. 
"No… But hey," she says, offering him a sarcastic smile and fake enthusiasm as she adds, "if I'm lucky enough, maybe he'll pick up the phone tonight. Isn't that great?"
Harry pauses for a moment. 
And then he snorts. 
He flicks his gaze down and breathes in, filling his chest with air while taking one hand up to his face and rubbing his brow. 
"Jesus Christ," he murmurs and chuckles shakily, almost as if he can't believe what he just heard. 
Aurora feels herself softening in front of him, and her fingers itch to touch him somehow.
"I mean, it's okay," she says, tightening her phone inside her fingers and closing her other hand into a fist. "I knew this would happen when I decided to spend the weekend away."
Harry drops his hand to his side and shakes his head, then looks at her again. 
Bright, sunny, warm summer seemed to turn into dark, cold, empty winter around him. He's clearly tense, and the look in his eyes is heavier now. 
"For his sake," he says, voice sounding just as deep as she feels him in her bones. "I really hope he doesn't cross my way anytime soon."
It's unbelievable how quickly Aurora's mouth fills with water. As if she's salivating because of him. 
The way he soaks up her worries and eases her sadness is certainly endearing, but the way Harry physically reacts to this specific situation gets her nerves stirring. He seems to be ready to stand up for her. Ready to fight the battle for her. Ready to be her armor and shield her from all and any attacks that Zack throws at her. 
And as much as Aurora doesn't want things to get to that point, and as much as she isn't looking for that kind of attention from a man, the honest truth is that her insides respond too quickly to his behavior. Like she's craving for that aggressiveness. Or maybe like she's craving for someone to finally treat her the way she wishes to be treated. Someone who will throw a punch for her, and not at her. 
Even just metaphorically speaking. 
Aurora blinks, breaking away from the intensity of his stare as she hunches down and grabs her bag from the floor. She takes the opportunity to swallow all those new feelings down, hiding and locking them away, then stands upright again.  
"I appreciate that," she says, curling her lips into a smile. "But we're in Italy right now, so I think I'm ready to leave Zack behind. At least for two days."
Harry focuses on her for a moment, flickering his eyes all over her face. Studying her. Almost like he's making sure she is telling him the truth. 
She tilts her chin down and lifts her left eyebrow, and Harry meets her stare once again. 
"You're right," he says, and closes his eyes. "Gimme a minute."
Taking all the time of the world, Harry breathes in deeply through his nose. When his chest is full, he freezes for a moment, and then lets all the air slip out through his mouth. Loudly and heavily. 
It's a little bit dramatic. A little bit over the top. A little bit exaggerated. But Aurora can tell that he's intentionally forcing his movements. That he's getting on board with her and leaving things behind. And that he's making a big deal out of it because it's supposed to be a symbolic moment between them. Like drawing an imaginary line and setting a before and after for that trip. 
Especially when he rolls his shoulders, tilts his head side to side vehemently, and then drops all the weight off his body. 
"Ok," he says, opening his eyes while clasping his hands together and smiling at her. "I'm good!"
He leans down to grab his bag, too, and a foolish grin grows on Aurora's face. 
"As I was saying," he adds, placing the strap on his shoulder as he looks at her again, "I got us a taxi. It's supposed to be just an hour and a half drive, but they said it can take us at least two hours to get there."
Meaning they will get there around what… 2:30? 3?
Aurora pouts. 
"That sucks. Lucy had this whole thing planned in the morning."
"I know. But we'll make the best of it, anyway."
"Yeah…" 
She puts her phone inside the front pocket of her bag, then looks around the airport. 
They're still inside the crowded terminal, and it's safe to say that she has no idea where she's supposed to go next. She's been following Harry's steps since they landed — or maybe even since they took off — and she isn't actually interested in taking the lead right now. 
"So… Where should we go, then? Can we get this taxi now or…"
"Mhm… Yes… We sure can…" Harry nods. "But first… There's something I have to tell you."
Aurora's face falls, and she drops her shoulders.
"Oh God… What?"
"It's nothing bad… At least I don't think so, but…"
Harry scratches his jaw and shrugs, then smiles sheepishly at her.
(Which, to be honest, does nothing to reassure her.) 
She rearranges the bag on her shoulder with one hand, and encourages him to speak with the other, rolling her fingers in the air. 
"But…?"
"Well… I might've lied a bit to the guy from the taxi company."
"Okay…" She narrows her eyes. "Why? What did you say to him?"
"That we just… Y'know… Got married?"
Aurora drops her jaw.
"Married?!"
Harry chuckles.
"Mhmm..." 
"Are you serious?"
"Yeah…" 
His face is bright with amusement, and even though Aurora can't understand what's so funny behind that joke, she can't help but mimic his emotion.
"Harry!" She laughs. "Why would you even say that?!"
"Because he gave me this whole speech, ok? About how he couldn't get us a car 'till five, and how we should've booked one at least one day before and… Well. Y'know…"
He rolls his eyes, clearly annoyed at the lecture he got because of their poor planning skills, but the joy is still there. All over him. Radiating from his entire presence. Blooming into her.
"I see." Aurora nods, pursing her lips as she mulls over his words. "And us being married changes that because…"
He pulls his eyebrows together, as if the answer is the most obvious thing and he can't believe she's even asking that. "Because we eloped, duh. So of course we didn't have any time to plan or book anything."
"Oh my God." 
Aurora laughs. 
"So I guess this is our honeymoon now."
"You're insane."
"Hey, it worked, ok?" He raises the palms of his hands to her, then smirks, all proud of himself. "We didn't have a taxi, now we have one. So… You're welcome." 
She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms on her chest, but the smile never falters from her face. 
"Fine. Whatever. Anything else I should be aware of about this lie?"
Harry takes a moment to think about it, hiding his hands inside his pockets and then shrugging. 
"Nah… Don't think so." 
"Good."
"Only that you're madly in love with me and couldn't wait to be my wife." 
"Right."
"But that's pretty obvious."
"No, yeah. Of course." 
"You also can't wait to get our honeymoon started, by the way."
"Oh, really?"
"Yep. So you're kind of desperate to get to our hotel."
Aurora snorts. "Okay then."
"Apparently," he says, stepping closer and nudging her side with his elbow, "you just can't get your hands off me."
She cackles, then, and shoves him off with one hand. "You wish!" 
The small joke rolls easily and happily from her mouth. Mostly because she's determined to not ruin things all over again, but also because he brings that side out of her. 
And Harry laughs, too.
"Hey," he says, shrugging and tilting his chin up, "a man can only hope."
"You're ridiculous."
"I mean, it gets you laughing so… Yeah. I'll take it." 
She shakes her head, finding herself out of words. Even if she knows they're both just teasing around and that she doesn't need to worry about him misinterpreting her, there's only so much she can joke at once. 
Unlike Harry, of course, who apparently can roll lie after lie out of his mouth. 
"Ok, c'mon," he says, tilting his head and leading their way from arrivals to outside the airport. "They said there'll be a car waiting for us."
Aurora follows him in silence, and then she clears her throat. 
"So, you really told them we got married?"
He smiles, and nods. "Yes."
"And they really think we're going to a hotel?"
"Mhmm." He looks at her over his shoulder and shrugs. "I didn't want to get into the whole yacht thing… Seemed too much trouble to explain."
"Right." She smirks, and raises her eyebrows. "But creating a lie about our marriage was easy-peasy, right?" 
Harry purses his lips, clearly trying to hold himself back. 
"I mean… Yeah. Had the whole story on the tip of my tongue." 
They both look at each other for a moment, and then they both laugh. 
See? That's the good thing about Harry: he makes Aurora laugh. 
And he makes her laugh a lot.
Which isn't exactly news, because he always made her laugh, but still feels nice to remember. 
Back in the day, the way Harry and Niall lived their lives used to be one of the reasons why she liked to hang out with them so much — they didn't have too many worries in the world, and they only cared about having fun. So whilst most people around her were planning for their futures and preoccupied about having everything figured out, they made her laugh about the most silly and random things, offering her a break from the pressures and expectations of adult life.
Of course, their lifestyle wasn't one that she could keep up with all the time, and at certain moments their behavior used to resemble childishness, but they definitely were good and fun people to keep around. 
So much so that here's where they are right now. 
"C'mere, wifey," Harry says, stepping out to the sunny day and pulling her to his side by her shoulders. "Time to give our driver a show." 
She grimaces, then places her arm around his waist.
"Okay," she says, narrowing her eyes and adjusting her sight to the warm and natural brightness, "rule number one, you're not calling me wifey."
Harry squeezes her shoulder and laughs, throwing his head back and slowing their pace down. 
"Right. Ok." He nods. "What should I call you, then?"
"What about… Nothing?"
"Oh c'mon! You're my wife now. We need to play the part." He guides her smoothly down the sidewalk, dodging strangers and skipping through a long line of white cars. "Does honey sound better? Or what about apple of my eye, huh? Cupcake? Pumpkin?" 
She chuckles. "Harry—" 
"Buttercup?"
"Stop."
"Kitten?" 
"Ew, no—"
"Other half? Or what about…" He leans closer to her ear, then covers his voice with sweetness and cheesiness as he annoyingly murmurs, "My lovey-dovey?"
At that, Aurora cackles. 
"Oh God," she laughs, squirming and shoving him off. "Stop. No nicknames for you." 
"Ahhh, why?" He pulls her closer again, exuding pure joy and happiness as he speaks. "Nicknames are fun. I can be your honey bunny if you want me to."
"Absolutely not."
"Honey boo?"
"Nope."
"Lover boy, then."
"C'mon… You can't seriously—" 
"Man of your dreams?"
Aurora snorts, but before she can say anything, Harry speaks again.
"Prince charming? Jellybean?"
"Harry, c'mon—" 
"Hot stuff?" 
"Stop!" 
"Babylicious?"
And then she laughs again. Probably way louder than she should. Leaning into him and covering her face as she struggles to keep up with his feet. 
"Oh my God! You're just so annoying. I can't even—" 
"Mr. and Mrs. Styles?" a thick italian accent calls, and they both stop walking.
Aurora is still laughing, trying to catch her breath while she turns her head to the side. A gray-haired man dressed in a black suit steps away from a black car and walks forward, holding a polite smile and gentle expression as he approaches them with nothing but determination. 
Harry squeezes her shoulder and leans in, getting closer to her ear.
"If you ask me," he murmurs, and the tone of his voice is suddenly so low that it becomes almost painful, "that should be the one. Mrs. Styles."
A shiver runs down her body, and she swallows. 
"Scusi," the man says, thankfully sparing her from having to find any responses or reactions. "Signor e signora Styles?"
"Giusto!" Harry says, squeezing her shoulder and chuckling as he straightens his posture and pulls her closer to his side. "Signor e signora Styles. Sì."
"Piacere! Come stai?" The man stretches his arm, and Harry takes a step forward, shaking hands with him. "Sono Francesco, il tuo tassista."
"Francesco!" Harry smiles. "Buongiorno! Mi chiamo Harry e questa—" He squeezes her again, making a deal out of it as he kisses the top of her head. "È mia moglie, Aurora."
Aurora bites her lip, watching in silence as the man turns to her and stretches his arm once again. 
"Aurora. Piacere. Un nome bellissimo." 
"Uh…" 
Truth be told, she has absolutely no idea what's going on, or what they are talking about. So she chuckles nervously, but makes sure to shake his hand anyway. 
"I don't…" She says, tilting her chin up and glancing at Harry. "Sorry. I don't speak Italian." 
Harry's expression softens, and the playfulness in his face turns into pure tenderness. 
"Oh. No problem," the man says, the Italian accent still thick as he communicates in a different language. Aurora faces him again, and he adds, "Aurora, sì? Beautiful name." 
"Oh." She smiles, cheeks getting slightly warm. "Uhm… Gra… Grazie?"
She turns to Harry, again.
"That's thank you, right?"
Still staring at her, Harry smiles, then nods.
Aurora looks back at the man. 
"Grazie," she repeats.
"Non c'è di che! Andiamo, sì?"
Aurora tilts her chin up, looking at Harry and waiting for him to take over the conversation. 
He shakes his head, then, and turns his attention back to the man. "Sì. Andiamo. Sì."
The man chuckles. "Sposi novelli, eh?"
"Mhm." 
"Congratulazioni! Lo immaginavo. So riconoscere lo sguardo di un uomo innamorato." 
Harry chuckles and looks down, then scratches his jaw with his free hand and clears his throat. "Così ovvio, eh?"
Aurora doesn't know if it's possible, but she feels her own eyes twinkling as she tilts her chin up and lands her gaze on Harry one more time. 
He beams under the gorgeous sunshine, eyes greener than she's ever seen and cheeks flushed as he engages into a conversation with that man. Not only rolling Italian words out of his mouth, but also effortlessly putting them into sentences. 
And she's so hypnotized by the whole thing, that she can't even be bothered by the fact that she's not being included or doesn't understand a single thing. She'll gladly let him take the reins for the entire drive as long as she gets to entertain herself with that view.
"Auri?"
Harry squeezes her shoulder, and Aurora blinks. She darts her eyes away from his face, swallowing while he steps towards the car and slides his arm off her shoulders. 
"Shall we?" he asks, reaching for the strap on her shoulder. 
Aurora is too starstruck to fight him, so she nods and lets him grab her duffel bag, then follows him with her eyes as he and the gray-haired-suited-man place it in the trunk, along with his. 
And from then on, Harry plays his part like a true gentleman. 
Their driver starts by opening the backseat door for them, but then Harry offers his hand for her to hold and get in first, kissing her temple when she walks past him. She chuckles, but only because of the effort he's putting on just to cover his own lie. 
Once they're both inside, he doesn't complain about taking the middle seat when she chooses the window, and even makes sure she's comfortable and has her belt on. 
"Possiamo andare?" the gray-haired-suited-man asks.
Harry peeks at her. "Good to go?" 
"Mhmmm..." 
He nods, then puts his belt on while answering their driver. "Sì, grazie." 
The engine starts working, and they're officially on the move to the Amalfi Coast. 
"Can I?" Harry whispers to her, hovering her hand with one of his. 
"Oh…" Aurora looks at his inked forearm, reaching for her while he keeps his elbow tucked to his side. To be fair, after sobbing into his chest and sleeping on him like a koala, she truly doesn't think holding hands would be awkward at all right now. So she nods and turns her palm around, offering it to him. "Yeah, sure."
And when he places his palm on top of hers and intertwines their fingers, she can actually see herself benefiting from his lie — because Harry's warmth keeps her warmth, as well. Just like she needs to be. Just like she wants to be. 
"Credo che Amalfi ti piacerà moltissimo," the man says. "È perfetto per gli innamorati!"
Harry chuckles and scooches down, comfortably spreading his long legs open and pulling their hands to rest on his thigh. "Grazie. È la nostra prima volta in Italia."
"Per quanto starai qui?"
"Solo due giorni. Domenica torniamo a casa."
Aurora is lost in the conversation, but she's also… Physically uncomfortable. Her arm is tense as she stretches it to lay on his leg, and she doesn't want to spend two hours like that. So she shuffles closer, tucking her elbow under his own and fully linking their arms. 
"Bene, dovrai tornare un'altra volta per visitare più città," the man says.
Harry sits upright again, then slips his fingers off from her hand.
"Di sicuro," he says, lifting his arm and placing it across her shoulders. "Forse la prossima estate."
He takes his other hand to her palm, then, and intertwines their fingers once again. 
It's like they need a moment to get comfortable and find a position that suits both of them, but eventually they get there. With Aurora melting onto his side and him brushing patterns on the skin of her arm. 
The man nods and smiles, but says nothing, and silence finally settles in the car.
Until Aurora takes that as an opportunity to speak again. 
"So…" she starts, watching their touching hands. "Did I miss something important from your private conversation?"
He freezes next to her. Stiffening his muscles and stopping the movements of his hand on her arm. 
"Shit. I didn't even… Sorry." He spreads his hand open on her shoulder, and squeezes her gently. "We were just chit chatting about the city, that's all. But I'll keep in mind to translate now, yeah? Sorry." 
"It's fine." She smiles, appreciating the sentiment. 
To be honest, she doesn't really care. She wishes she had prepared herself a little bit better for a new country and a new language, that's for sure, but at least she's with Harry now. It will be a lesson learned for the next time — if there ever is one. 
"When did you learn how to speak Italian, anyway?" 
A smile grows on his face, and he tilts his head to lean it on top of hers. 
"I don't know." He shrugs slightly, resuming the brushing of his fingers on her arm. "My mum… I learned from her, that's all."
Aurora frowns. "Is she Italian?"
"Uh… No, she… I mean, my grandfather was."
"Ohhh… Didn't know that. So you've always spoken Italian?"
"I guess? I don't know. I just can find my way around it… That's all."
Aurora hums, and turns to look through the window, admiring the view of a country she's never been to before. 
And then she shrugs, making sure she sounds teasingly when she says, "Well… Now that you've brought up your mum, then I guess it'll be inappropriate to mention how incredibly hot and sexy you sound when you speak Italian, right?"
Harry chokes. 
He literally chokes. Straightening up and coughing while letting her hand go to smack his palm on his chest. 
Aurora sits upright as well, holding back a smile as she tries to catch a glimpse of his face and murmurs questions like "what's wrong?" and "are you okay?". 
The driver says something, too, and Harry shakes his head, raising his free hand waving a finger at him.
"I'm…" He coughs again, and brings his hand to his throat. "Sto bene—" (cough) "Grazie."
"Ugh, see?" Aurora murmurs, leaning against the backseat and grabbing his hand on her shoulder, making sure he doesn't pull his arm away. "Told you. Incredibly sexy."
Cough. Cough. Cough.
Cough.
"Shit."
Cough.
Cough.
Cough.
Aurora giggles.
Yep. That's actually pretty fun.
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They park at what first seems a dead-end street, but in reality it continues turning right and going up the hill. 
Aurora gets out of the car slowly, feeling the hardness of the concrete under her feet as she straightens her back and tips her neck back. The sun is shining, and she rests the side of her hand on top of her eyes, blocking out the brightness and taking in the view — the hills, the rocks, the shades of green, the colorful houses and buildings. 
She places her free hand against her breastbone, and slowly releases the air inside of her lungs. She doesn't want that surreal feeling to end, so she stands frozen in the spot for another moment, or two. 
She's heard about people going through moments when all their concerns and worries fall away, but it has never been a first hand experience of hers. Not until that day, at least. 
The closest she can imagine to that feeling was the moment she finally physically met Noah, the exact second his tiny crying body was placed between her arms. That didn't last too long, though, with her body hurting and the exhaustion taking over every inch of her — both emotionally and physically.
Earlier that day, when she woke up  snuggled into Harry's arms, she also experienced something very similar to that — the same sense of calm and peace. Then again, it also didn't last too long, since she knew she was overstepping and had to pull herself from his embrace. 
(Besides, to be fair, she isn't sure if it's the same thing, or if she's just really confused right now.) 
Still, there she is right now, standing in an unknown city, where she doesn't know anyone and can't even speak the language, feeling as if all of her concerns and worries have fallen away. It's pretty similar to those other two occasions, only this time the feeling doesn't seem to be going anywhere. 
It feels as if it's settled to stay.
The trunk of the car slams shut, and Aurora turns on her feet. 
On the other side of the taxi, Harry chats excitedly with their driver. And behind them, opposite from the city, is the ocean. 
It's a little after three in the afternoon, and they are finally at Marina Coppola, the port of Amalfi. 
The gray-haired-suited-man looks at her and nods, saying things she can't even try to understand. The only words she somehow recognizes are "amore", and "buona giornata", but still, she isn't sure she really knows what they're supposed to mean. 
So Aurora simply smiles, watching as Harry does — once again — all the talking for both of them. 
"Grazie!" he says, clasping one hand on the man's shoulder and firmly shaking his hand. "Anche a te!"
The driver raises one hand at her, and she lifts one hand, too, waving and blinking slowly as he gets inside the car. 
Harry moves to the sidewalk with both duffel bags, and Aurora waits for the man to drive away before getting closer to him.
And then she reaches for her bag, but Harry dodges her and taps her hand away.
"Nuh-uh, Mrs. Styles."
Aurora's cheeks warm up, and she rolls her eyes. 
During their ride, their driver referred to her as Mrs. Styles more than a few times. He'd ask questions about the view, or chit chat about the weather and ask her opinion about it. And Harry, of course, would be the one to always translate the questions, making sure to not only include Mrs. Styles, but also emphasize it. 
"Well… Marriage is over, so…" 
She shrugs and smiles, but maybe her joke hits a little too close to her heart, because she doesn't feel like fighting him anymore. Instead, she allows her curious eyes to shift around and capture as many details as she can. 
It is nice to see the ocean again. Long, wide, far-reaching. She's also seen a restaurant at the marina's entrance, and although the street is filled with cars, there aren't many people walking. 
She remembers Lucy explaining in their group chat how they chose a weekend in May exactly because of that — because it wouldn't be so filled with tourists, but the weather would still be perfect for a swim. Aurora can't deny she'd been scared of rain ruining their plans, but the sun is, in fact, shining with no signs of any clouds around — which is probably also helpful to set that magic scenario around them. 
And as Aurora admires the postcard worthy sight, it dawns on her that Amalfi looks exactly as she has seen in pictures. Maybe the colors aren't as bright and intense as Instagram usually made it seem, but it is still colorful. Still captivating, still mesmerizing. 
Being there, she can actually smell the fresh water, the fish, and the sunscreen. She can also feel the prickle of sunburn on her arms, and the wind pulling at her dress and her hair. She can even actually hear the small waves, the boats motoring past on their way to water, and the laughter and excitement of people at the docks.
The atmosphere is real, and yet still impossible to describe. It fills her with life, with hopes, and with dreams. 
It is… Surreal. 
Magical. 
"This is unbelievable," she finally murmurs. Her voice is soft and delicate, though — as if she doesn't want to break the spell surrounding them. 
"I know," Harry says, mimicking her tone. "'S really beautiful, innit?"
She turns her head to look at him, and finds him watching the hills across from them, the same ones she was watching just minutes before. She can see him furrowing his brows under his sunglasses, his head moving from one side to the other. 
"Yeah," Aurora breathes out. 
Harry is beautiful. The daylight makes his skin look tanner, and the wind messes with his hair, too —  although he doesn't seem to mind. And the facial hair glows on his face, somehow screaming at her how grownup he is. Somehow turning into a reminder of how good he took care of her, of how good he made her feel. 
Shit. 
She swallows, and faces the port again.
Can she still blame these thoughts on her lack of sleep?
Maybe she's being delusional. Maybe she is still so confused that she doesn't know what is reality or dreaming anymore. Or maybe she's spent so much time without interacting with any men that she doesn't know what's friendly or not anymore. Maybe she's mixing things up. Maybe Harry has just been protective of her. Like Theo and Niall are. 
Shit.
The wind pulls her hair to her face, and she takes her arms to put her locks into an improvised knot.
Hundreds of various-sized boats are lined up along the docks, and they are all so different from each other that she realizes she's never stopped to think about their different names. 
Are they boats? Are they all yachts? Is there even a difference? And what would that difference be?
"So…" she says, pausing to clear out her throat and rub the tip of her nose. "A ferry is one of those that you can get into with your car, right?"
Harry glances over his shoulder, watching her silently for a moment. 
She can feel his eyes on her face, but she resists the temptation of looking at him. 
And then he nods and turns around, standing next to her and facing the ocean as well. "Yeah… Have you ever been in one?"
Aurora shakes her head. 
"No… I remember from the movie 'How to lose a guy in ten days'. Have you seen it?"
He turns his head and stares at her in silence once again, until a loud laugh erupts from him.
She turns her head, too, and tilts her chin up, looking at him. 
"What?" she asks, lifting her left eyebrow. 
"Sorry… It's just…" 
He shakes his head and scratches his jaw, waiting until calming down before explaining himself. 
"Oh God… You made me watch that movie soooo many times," he says, voice filled with amusement while he tilts his neck back and looks at the sky. 
Aurora keeps her eyes on his shoulder, focusing on the flamingos in his shirt.  
"I did?" She frowns. "I don't—When?"
"Movie nights at your place, remember?" He pulls his hair back, smiling at her, and then at the horizon. "We used to do them once a week for a month or two. Usually everyone fell asleep and we were the only ones awake. Somehow, you'd end up always making tea and putting that DVD on." 
He shrugs, as if recalling that memory it's just the most common thing in the world. 
To Aurora, though, it isn't. 
"Wow…" She blinks, staring at the port again. "I can't… I honestly can't believe how many things you remember and I don't."
"Oh, it's okay, we were—"
"No, it's not. It makes me feel like shit."
"Auri—"
"You know I really like you, right?" she asks, focusing on the way the waves crash against one specific boat. "It's not you… I mean, I don't remember so many things, it's like I blocked stuff from my memory, but it's not because they didn't mean anything to me… I promise. I've always enjoyed our friendship, I just—"
Harry places his hand on her shoulder, and Aurora twists her neck to look at him.
"C'mon…" His sunglasses are on the top of his head now, pulling his hair back, and he stares firmly into her eyes. "I don't expect you to remember the same things I do, ok? We're fine. Everything's good. You don't need to be so tense about everything you do or say. Not around me, at least. Ok?" 
"Okay…" She nods once, then twice. And then she shakes her head. "Yeah, okay. Yeah."
"Okay," he repeats, a smile forming on his lips and his hand slipping away from her shoulder. 
Aurora can still feel his fingertips burning on her skin, though, and it dawns on her that, after spending the entire drive holding his hand and relaxing under his arm, now it's weird to not be able to just… Touch him again. 
"And just so you know," he adds. "I've been on a ferry. A couple of times, actually."
Aurora gasps, then grins at him, gladly accepting the change of subject. 
She asks when, and where, and why, and Harry chuckles. He answers while putting his sunglasses back on, then keeps the conversation going as he leads the way to the docks and to their friends. 
And they walk together, of course. All the time. 
There's a white arch they have to get through, and Harry raises his arm, gesturing for her to go first. She smiles shyly, looking at him over her shoulder as she steps onto the aluminum gangway. 
She walks across what looks like a green carpet before getting to the actual dock — a narrow wooden path stretched out into the water and leading to all different yachts — and then they are walking side by side again.
Always side by side.
Even when they have to dodge people on the way, some simply standing and chatting, some prepping their boats for sailing, some just returning to land. 
Then it gets to a point where all Aurora can see are bare masts reaching into the sky, birds flying, and ropes around their feet. 
They turn left on the dock, and sweat trickles over the back of her neck, just like her inner thighs sting from brushing against each other. She sighs and scratches the tip of her nose, listening to Harry as he chats about how he stopped eating meat a while ago, but was willing to eat fish again during the weekend.
Aurora nods at him, and then the growl of an engine starting up makes her jolt and gasp. She widens her eyes and takes her hand to her chest, and Harry chuckles next to her. 
She rolls her eyes and relaxes, smiling as she pokes his side with her elbow. "Shut up…"
He nods, pursing his lips and stopping himself from laughing even more. 
"Whatever you say, Mrs. Styles." 
"Ughhh. I won't be hearing the end of this anytime soon, will I?"
"See? That's why I married you. You know me too well."
She snorts, and then Harry slows down walking. 
"Ok, all jokes aside now. Aurora Fletcher, are you ready to have some fun?" 
Aurora smiles. 
To be fair, she's been having fun for a while now, but her body still sparkles with excitement at his words. So she moves her head quickly in agreement, just to make sure Harry can see it. "Yes, please."
"Good, because if my eyes aren't messing with me," he says, raising his arm to point out ahead of them, "I think those up there are our friends…"
Aurora looks up, tilting her chin and squinting her eyes when the sun strikes right into her line of view. Like she did before, she places the side of her hand against her eyebrows, blocking the brightness and blinking to focus where Harry seems to be pointing at.
When she recognizes the silhouette of some of their friends, she realizes they aren't just on a yacht — they are standing at the top floor of a massive, luxurious yacht. 
Aurora's mouth falls open, her eyes seem to bulge out of her face, and her body freezes. 
"What the hell?" she murmurs. 
Or, in other words, what the hell were Lucy and Theo thinking?! 
"Now I see what Niall meant about it blowing my mind," Harry says next to her. "Fuck yeah, this is gonna be great! C'mon." 
His joyful and energetic voice is enough to wake Aurora up from the half-conscious state she's fallen into, but he still puts his hand in between her shoulder blades and pushes her slightly, encouraging her to move along with him. 
"They're waiting for us, yeah? It's gonna be fun, but if it gets too much let me know and we'll just take a break from everyone."
Aurora blinks.
"I don't… I don't know if I'll be able to," she blurts out, not moving her feet from the spot. 
Her eyes are still wide open, but she darts them up to stare at Harry. 
He pulls his sunglasses back to the top of his head and takes two steps closer, standing right in front of her and letting their bags fall to his feet. His figure is tall enough to block the movements ahead from her view, allowing Aurora to focus on him, and only him. 
"I mean—" She shakes her head, organizing her thoughts. "I don't know if I'll be brave enough to ask for help."
Harry nods, and a wave of understanding engulfs Aurora's body. She drops her shoulders, and her eyebrows, then lets a long breath out of her nose.
"Maybe we could come up with a sign then, yeah?" He puts his hands right above her elbows, then gently moves them up and down. Rubbing her upper arms and soothing her down. 
"A sign?"
"Mhm. Just, y'know, something to let each other know we could use some company? For both of us… Maybe I'll need it, too."
Aurora chuckles and rubs her forehead, knowing damn well he won't need it. 
Still, she nods. 
"Maybe, okay… Yeah."
"Good. Any suggestions?"
"Hmmm… I don't know. Pinching the tip of the nose?" 
"No, nuh-uh." Harry shakes his head. "You already do that a lot."
Aurora frowns. "No I don't."
"Trust me, you do." Harry tightens his fingers around her arms, then loosens them up. "Scratching our jaws? I mean, your jaw… You scratch yours, I scratch mine…" 
Aurora purses her lips, and his own mouth twitches in amusement. 
"You know what I mean…"
"Yeah…" Her eyes wander around his face for a moment, and she sighs. "But no, because that's something you already do a lot."
Harry turns the corner of his mouth into a smirk, and Aurora squeezes her hands into fists to stop herself from poking the dimple on his cheek. 
"I do?"
She shrugs. "Mhm." 
"If you say so…" 
He stays put inside her eyes, capturing her inside a mesmerizing green spell and forcing her to just wait there. Powerless and helpless. With no other option but to stare back at him.
Letting time go by — letting time run by. 
As if they weren't already late. 
As if they weren't the last ones to arrive.
As if they didn't have a massive, overpriced yacht waiting for them. 
"What about our ears, then?" he offers, his voice huskier and somehow slower. 
Aurora swallows. And her stomach flutters just as much as her chest tightens. 
"Y'know," he adds, then takes a step closer. "You tug yours, I tug mine…"
He moves one hand, letting go of her arm as he drifts it to her face. 
He touches her cheek first, breezily, then slides to her ear, brushing her skin in the process and making it tingle. 
Aurora holds her breath, and as she stares at him, she feels her earlobe being touched by two of his fingers. 
She closes her eyes for a moment, and when she opens them again, she drifts her sight to his mouth. Unconsciously and unintentionally. 
Harry slides his tongue between his lips, getting them wet before he turns them into a smirk.
"Like this," he murmurs, then gives her ear a little tug. 
Shit.
Aurora looks back at him.
Everything he's doing right now feels soft, intentional, and… Extremely and weirdly right. 
There's a feeling deep down her stomach that she's unable to name. Maybe a flush, maybe a tingle, or maybe a throb. Or maybe all of them.
She can't describe it, she can't understand it. 
She can't name it.
But it's there, and it's doing things to her. Things she hasn't felt in a very long time.
"Hm? What do you say?" he asks, so softly it almost makes her whine.
Her heart picks up, and she doesn't think she'll be strong enough to move away from his touch. Not then, not ever again. 
"Okay," she whispers. "Yes."
His smirk turns into a smile, and he leans in, pressing his lips firmly against her forehead. 
It only lasts a second, and then Harry pulls away from her and hunches down to pick up their bags. 
W—What? 
Why…
Aurora blinks at him. 
Why did he stop?
Why did he move away? 
"It's settled, then," Harry says. "C'mon, let's get this party started."
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Hiii :)
I thought about adding some more scenes here, but tbh I feel like these two should be together and get all the attention, so this is where part 3 officially ends. Next part it's a long one and includes meeting all of their friends, so I hope you've enjoyed their last moments by themselves hehe 🤭
Thanks for reading!
Dani
(if you've made it here, pls talk to me and say Francesco lol)
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cripplecharacters · 19 hours
Note
Hello! Want to double check that I've done a decent job of avoiding disfiguremisia, and try to turn it into great counter to hatred instead of just an okay one.
Preface: I have a form of memory loss and likely brain damage so I cannot always phrase things clearly although I will try my best.
Personally I do not feel happy reading escapist stories as that happy ending is not achievable for real people. We don't get to live in a place that's completely safe and free from judgement. I'd like to write people in a hostile world who find love and safety and community, however this does necessite writing hostility. I want to make sure I'm doing so with care.
I would like to make sure that the hostility written as tension does not tar how I write how one of the main characters. He should be written with dignity and respect even when he is not being treated well by those around him.
One of my characters is blind and develops severe burn scars. He wears a blindfold to help with photophobia and sensory overwhelm, but takes it off when its dim. (CVI plus autism.)
While he does wear a cloth coverings in public due to ugly laws, he views it as a ridiculous requirement and happily removes this mask when with friends. He also enjoys that being visibly strange or somewhat unnerving to most people means that shallow people who judge by appearances avoid him.
Question: what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia? I have him being content with his face as it tells a story of his life and he's a blunt, forward person, not covering his face for most of the story despite laws necessitating that he do so, and a few other things too (and many side characters with facial differences and deformities also).
Also none of the central plotlines centre around facial difference. He's joining a servant rebellion, befriending a bitter exile intent on status at all costs, and discovering the truth of history. (Also a mind controlling octopus being is involved and a semi sentient moon amalgam thing but don't worry about it everything's fine.)
I think later books will be a more effective counter due to lack of ugly laws and him finding a lovely interest. I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world. I want his happy ending to feel real.
I respect the hell out of escapist fantasies it's just that they do nothing for me personally. I really want to write someone dealing with a lot - more than I ever have - and coming out the other end happy. Yes this world is hostile and will judge me but I can find joy despite it all. Some say the world is universally cruel but I have not found this to be the case. It is wise to be wary but myself and friends can create small sections of time and space where no precautions are necessary. Am I not part of the world? Are not they? The world is not universally cruel as long as I and those I treasure live in and we are not extraordinary, simply uncommon, and what is uncommon is still a great bounty. (Something to that effect.)
I'm set on what I want to write but the specifics I'm more than happy to change in order to bring joy. Do you have ideas on how I can do this full idea full justice?
Hello,
before getting to your actual ask, I have a "few" questions about the premise of the story itself.
You mention that you don't like escapist fantasies - that's fair. Taste differs; you can write whatever and that's great. But I do find the insistence to write a story about a specific type of discrimination as an outsider rather strange. If you want to have facial difference representation, I assume you want to have readers with facial differences, correct? I mean, I don't think that many able-bodied people would be too interested in it specifically considering most don't know what it is. So okay, this is supposed to be a story of characters with facial differences overcoming centuries worth of hatred and all that. Arguably more, considering that disfiguremisia and ableism go all the way back to Biblical times.
Why are you the person who needs to tell this story?
Just as people with facial differences are readers, we can be authors as well. We tell our stories. I will take an #OwnVoices book over a one that isn't that any day, and this fact will influence the rest of this answer. I'm a firm believer in #NothingAboutUsWithoutUs and all when it comes to this stuff.
Have you talked to people with facial differences who would be interested in the kind of story you want to tell? Do you know what they want to see from an author that's not taking it from their own experience? I don't count here, because as I made clear before, I'm not and won't be interested in it. I also don't know anyone in the community who has ever said "I wish more people without our experiences wrote about how hard it is to be us!". You need to make sure there are people who want this.
So, have, or will you, reach out to those that could like it? Sensitivity readers, random people online who like to read about disfiguremisia in their free time, advocates who work on media-centric problems? Anyone who would enjoy it is automatically a better candidate to help than me. I'm too jaded, I suppose.
If you want to talk about people with facial differences in such detail and setting, you need to get to know us. One guy with a specific set of opinions from a blog on Tumblr isn't that (thank god), but I guess I can serve as a reminder that not everyone will be excited to read a book that represents them in some way. We still have preferences.
To write it, you need to involve yourself in the community, start actually spreading activism about our issues. Preach about Face Equality and celebrate when our once-a-year week happens in May. See what disfiguremisia causes. Share our efforts to get all the problematic garbage off the big screen. Read our stories. Understand us as people who are incredibly diverse, and that not all of us like to be described as strange or unnerving.
If you only want to talk about our suffering as some quota to fill on a "types of discrimination" list, it will always be flat and inauthentic, and if you don't put in the effort it's pointless. We don't want tragedy porn, and we don't need to be included in every story about struggles that just wants some brand-new type of bigotry in it. We want authors who care about us, the living and breathing people. And sometimes it might mean respecting our opinions on writing disfiguremisia.
Here is a great post by @writingwithcolor explaining the effects of tragedy exploitation. Not everything there applies, but I would consider it a very valuable read.
If you think about all this, and decide that you are ready to write such a heavy, community-based story, go ahead to...
Actual Answers! Hooray
what other things might I be able to employ to counter disfiguremisia?
Sympathize with him. Disfiguremisia is a tragedy, it's brutal and it hurts. It's traumatic and impossible to forget, even if it wasn't happening constantly just to remind us that it's still there. On this note, I would recommend you research writing characters with PTSD.
Have him think about it. Sometimes I get home after getting stared down on the street and just want to yell. You don't forget a microaggression or a hate crime after five minutes. Let him vent and let him be upset. He can have flashbacks or recall similar situations that happened in the past.
I'm glad that he's aware of disfiguremisia unlike a ton of characters who are somehow always unable to figure out that it's a problem. If the ableism he's facing is so systemic and severe, individual people will be even more extreme. You can have him remember that the shop owner was a slur-spitting bigot, or that his neighbors avoid even talking to him. I want him to call them out - in retrospective, at the moment, in his head, whatever - on what they're doing. Throw a "not this fucking thing again" or something in there.
The minimum is to make him feel like a human with an internal thought process, who is able to actually experience what's happening to him, and for it to have long-term effects.
Also, outside of the whole disfiguremisia thing and me being overdramatic, check out our #blindness tag, and research burn scar care. If you don't show the boring and mundane, it will only feel closer to tragedy porn; just a sad thing one after another.
I will also do my best to make the counters feel real and feasible - I want it to feel like an achievable option for those who deal with prejudice in the real world.
This I think is the part of the ask that made me the saddest, and not because of what you wrote. I tried to think of achievable ways; ways that we did it, tried to do it, and are doing it, and one-by-one I crossed them out as "didn't work", "no one cared enough" or "kinda worked but honestly, it didn't". Face Equality is basically non-existent, not matter how much it hurts me to admit it! We are trying our best, and it doesn't work. It's just plain hard for me to come up with suggestions for this.
In fiction, I suppose that personal resistance is the way when it comes to this. I don't think there are feasible systemic changes that could happen that don't border on magical thinking or get into the "singular glorious revolution that somehow fixes everything and everyone lived happy ever after. We fixed racism, yay!". This just sucks.He could try to educate the people who are willing to listen - that's somewhat what I'm trying to pull off here on this blog, I guess. Sometimes it works, often it doesn't, but in his situation it wouldn't hurt to try.
The fundamental part here will be whether your character is able to find a way to make the ordinary person care in the end. To me, society who still hates us just as much, with a small group that thinks we're okay isn't a happy ending. The opposite, rather. It's cold and isolating to know only your friends could value you as a human being, and downright sad to imply that we should be happy for that. I don't mean that everyone should love us in every story, but there's a difference between The Ableism being represented by an antagonist or two versus the entire world except for the main characters.
If you decide to go forward with this story, I do hope your other readers with facial differences enjoy it!
mod Sasza
[This ask was submitted before my announcement of not taking questions regarding this subject matter. As of publishing this, it still applies.]
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fili-urzudel · 2 days
Text
A Kiss Hello - Fíli x Reader
Hey guys, look who keeps overcommitting :D
Anyway how about instead of any of the requests I have in my inbox you read a short piece I wrote in November 2022?
Word Count: 0.7k
Warnings: none
Fíli had always thought it was a bit of a strange greeting and goodbye. One kiss to each cheek, your hands easily resting on his shoulders to pull him in. You told him it was normal where you came from, and he supposed he wasn't one to tell you you weren't allowed to practice your culture near him.
It helped that he didn't exactly mind. You had lived with them under the mountain for years, and he was still the only one left with a burning face and butterflies in his stomach once you were out of sight.
"Fíli, this is getting ridiculous," Kíli sighed goofily as they traversed the halls of the mountain, trying to find the longest and most time-consuming route to their meetings. "I can see hearts in your eyes whenever she's around, why don't you just... confess?"
"Because I'm not you, Kíli," Fíli said, a bit agitated. "It's expected of me to find a nice dwarrowdam and settle down, keep our people happy. I can't just... just..."
"Just be happy with the woman you so obviously love?" Kíli interrupted, seemingly unfazed by his brother's sharp words. "You're free to make your own decisions, but I can promise you will live with regret forever if you don't do something. And soon."
Fíli looked slightly up at his younger brother. "What is that supposed to mean? What do you know?"
Kíli shrugged, eyes trained on the path ahead of them. He wasn't smiling anymore.
"Kíli!" Fíli felt his frustration rising, and with it, panic. What was happening? What were you going to do? "What, is she going to leave?"
Kíli only looked at him.
The golden prince's heart sank.
Was it his fault?
Fíli paced, wringing his hands, in the marketplace you always seemed to find yourself in, sometimes to sell, sometimes just to shop—oh, how he loved how vibrant you were when you shopped with him.
At this point, his heart was no longer in his stomach, but his feet. He couldn't stand it if you left, all because he chased you away, all because he was stupid and didn't know when to admit it—
"Y/N!" He interrupted his own thoughts, seeing you draw near. You held the basket you always used when shopping, the one he bought you in one of the towns you stopped at, before Erebor had even been won. It was looking a little worse for the wear, but you refused to give it up.
"Fíli!" You called back with a smile, but your eyes looked strained.
He wrestled with his brain, trying to figure out what to say first. His words became an incomprehensible knot. "Are you leaving?" He blurted. He just... he just really needed to know.
"Yes, actually, I am," you admitted, gazing at the floor. "I figured... I don't know, I think it's just time," you nodded, mouth twisted in a sad smile. "I hope you won't miss me too badly."
Fíli's heart raced. "Actually, if I could—"
A voice called out to you, and from the looks of it, it belonged to the head of a caravan you were looking to travel with.
"I'm so sorry, it looks like I have to go," you apologized, moving forward to bid him goodbye.
First, it was the right cheek, and as you moved to kiss his left, he turned, catching your lips with his.
The contact was fleeting, you startling back, flustered. "Oh, goodness, I'm sorry—"
You were still only centimeters from him. "Don't go," he murmured, moving to kiss you again. He didn't want to leave any doubt in your mind—that was not an accident.
His heart fluttered as he felt you kiss back, tilting your head as his hand rose to cup your face.
"I won't," you said as you pulled away, hot breath fanning across his face.
He felt eyes on the two of you from all sides. There would be no hiding this, no killing rumors or trying to keep a secret. "Good," he said, his lips still almost touching yours.
He had always liked your goodbyes, but this new beginning was much better.
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wosoluver · 7 hours
Text
Not good at saying goodbyes.
Part 2/? - previous - next
Lena Oberdorf × Reader
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And here you were about to turn 23, you were a late bloomer in football. Only having a big boom in the past two years, playing for Barcelona.
You were set to play the euros for your national team, as you already did play for the qualifiers. You had finally been called up to play, and represent your country. That was, Spain. Despite being born and raised in Germany, you were only a little girl. The most memories you had in football was unfortunately made in Spain. It had been almost 15 years. So it felt like the right thing.
If someone would have told you that then, you would never believe them. You would say there was no way, and you would take the first chance you had, to go 'home'.
But you followed your path, with the best opportunities you had, presented to you. And that's how you ended up where you were now. On a top team, being among awarded players. And you were happy. Really. But something was always missing, and you couldn't figure out what it was.
Asking for a transfer to Bayern Munich as a loan, was a slight desperate try, at trying to fix that feeling.
And the deal had been settled.
And you were feeling great and confident, despite knowing you would have to sooner or later face your old friend, but for only 90 minutes max.
Your plans had been frustrated when a week after the announcement over your contract, Bayern announced another transfer. From Wolfsburg. The very same girl you couldn't stop worrying about.
You deeply hoped you would be better at hello, better than you ever were at goodbyes.
Not knowing where to start was tough. After all besides the loss of contact, you had so many chances of reconnecting. But you both chose not to.
You, because you were extremely scared of the rejection. And her, simply because she was still not over how betrayed she felt, even after all this time.
You didn't know what you were expecting, but being humiliated by having your existence ignored, was not on your list of possibilities.
You came in, to get ready for your first day. Georgia came over to try and fit you in.
"Hello! It's nice to have you here already! Your spanish right? Do you have a german family? You have a german last name."
"Well yeah, I was actually born here, but I grew up there."
"Really? But you play for the national team no?" she asked as you two moved outside.
"Yes, played for them first time this year."
"Hola!" - said Giulia coming close to you.
"She's speaks english and german probably." - said Georgia stoping her friend from embarrassing herself with bad spanish.
"Yes, english or german, or spanish, whatever you prefer."
"We're so excited to have you here, come I'll take you around, you can meet everyone."
And you did. But when you were about to approach Lena and Lea, she simply walked away.
"Hey, sorry about her." - said Lea, with a tight lip smile.
"It's fine."
But it hurt. And it was only going to get worse.
Every chance she had to pass you the ball, she didn't. Everyone noticed at this point. And in the locker room, she didn't make an effort to hide the fact that your presence bothered her.
From that day on, that's what it was like.
You knew you deserved a cold shoulder, but this was too much, and it started taking a tow on you.
You decided to move back to Germany, trying to fill a small void you had deep down, not to make it feel worse. Had you made the right decision?
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"Good morning Y/N!" as she caught up with you on the parking lot.
"Morning Georgia."
"I know it's none of my business and you probably don't even know, since you just met. But is there something wrong between you and Oberdorf?"
"Uhm-" in a way you were kinda glad to be cut off.
"I'm sorry it's just been so weird. We've never had something like this happen in the team."
"I'll try talking to her."
You hated the unwanted attention, especially on something you were so sensitive about.
But she was one of your captains, if she came up to say something like that, it was probably because she wanted to sort it out.
Lena's pov
"You need to try and be more subtle, the girls are worried about the team's harmony." - said Lea to her friend.
"I'm not going to play my feelings down!"
"I'm not asking you to. But at least inside the pitch, you need to put your feelings a side momentarily. You can't let this harm our team's performance."
"See that's exactly what your doing!"
"Lena! You just got here. You can't risk this over pride. You don't need to talk to her, just play football like I know you can."
This time she only nodded. This couldn't be bigger than her career. And that she agreed on.
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reader's pov
During training today, it felt like something was different. Besides the fact you had fallen in the same group as Lena. And you two did football like you used to. So much, you had beaten the opposite group on 5-1. Something that hadn't happened yet since your first day. Her passes from the middle field to your position as a left winger, made sure that most balls got into the penalty area so Lea and Pernille could manage goals.
The way she had been acting made you think something between you had changed. That gave you a little hope as you went to talk to her, later in the locker room.
"Hey... I just wanted to- I wanted to apologize." - You said barely above a whisper.
"I don't want your apologies. I'm not doing this for you."
"Still, I need to apologize. There's no excuse to what I've done and-"
"Your right there's no excuse." she said dryly as she walked away.
You felt like someone grabbed your heart that was already holding on to it's pieces, and smashed it against a wall.
You never thought you would see this side of her. In reality that part of her had only been created after the harsh reality had hit her all those years ago.
Like you had drove her to create the best side of her. The kind, funny and quick witted one, you had managed to do the same, but for the worse.
You moved as quick as you could into a stall, and cried your eyes out, as quietly as possible. Not quiet enough though, apparently.
"Y/N? It's Giulia." She said softly as she sat down next to you, outside the stall. "Do you need anything?"
You were quiet for a few minutes.
"A hug?" whispering back.
You sounded like a little girl, scared off by the monsters under her bed.
"Of course."
You got up and unlocked the door, as you walked into her arms.
"You don't owe me an explanation. But if you need to talk, I'm here."
"Did you hear any of it?"
"Yeah."
"We were childhood best friends. When I had to leave the country. I didn't say goodbye. I couldn't."
"How old were you?"
"About eight."
"You were just a kid!"
"It's still my fault."
"Honey no! You were so young, I can't imagine how it was for you. You were about to lose everything you knew. You can't spend the rest of your life carrying this weight!"
"Well even if it was a child's mistake, I have lost her forever. If I could go back in time I would."
"I believe you. Just give her a little time, and she'll see it too. What you two did today was amazing! You guys were synced like one. I saw a slight tiny smile on her face when you assisted those two goals."
"Really?"
"Yes, it was in her eyes. She is really good at keeping a straight face, but I'm better at reading people."
"Thank you. I haven't talked about this in years."
"I'm here. Now let's get you home, do you need a ride?"
"No, I'm good, I drove here."
"Okay. Anything, you call me, yeah?"
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We'll probably have four or five parts on this fic 🩷
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pasta-in-the-pudding · 19 hours
Note
Thank youuu, maayybbee a comforting headcanons about your choice of Creepypasta with a reader who is like uh like really really tired in all sort of ways that they won’t cooperate in anything, mind being so nice to give them a whole slideshow of their messed up childhood and
Y’know just a really fucked out reader
Sorry if it’s y’know too much or anything, you can do it whenever you want!
-🐰
I love writing comfort scenarios <33
Credits to divider goes to saradika-graphics! Go follow them and support their works
Thank you so much for requesting!!
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Ticci Toby
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He understands that sometimes, everything is too much and your brain just kind of shuts down
But he is also a very anxious person
So when he sees you laying in bed, the exact same position you were in when he left in the morning, he gets a little concerned
Have you moved at all? Have you eaten? Drank anything? Taken a shower?
But he respects your privacy and doesn't ask you about it, assuming maybe you just wanted a lazy day to yourself
So he brings his dinner up to you that night, sharing just in case this is in fact the first you've eaten all day
And when you continue this behavior the next day, he begins to panic
The other creeps know something's up too, or at least, E.J does, because once Toby gets home E.J approaches him about it
"Hey, I asked y/n to clean the equipment they used in the gym last time and they just said no. They also seemed pretty lethargic, barely moving or breathing at all. Nothing to worry about right now, but it is concerning."
And with that, he walks off, seemingly not even wanting an answer, just wanting to give Toby a heads up
So once again, Toby goes to your room once again, seeing that you still haven't moved
"You haven't moved." He says
"Mhm" you respond absently, scrolling on your phone
"Have you eaten today?" He asks, beginning to get nervous
"Mhm" you respond once more, though it's not a real response it's just one to make him happy
"Um. EJ said you didn't want to clean the gym equipment you used?" He fidgets with his fingers now, picking at the dry skin
"Mhm" Is the only thing you say, and the only thing you're going to say he realizes
So he comes to sit on the bed next to you, moving some of your hair out of your face (if you have any, if you don't he rubs your back) "Are you ok? You can talk to me, you know? I love you"
This seems to trigger something in you, because instantly a flood of tears happens
This startles him, but he continues to comfort you nonetheless
He pulls you up and drapes your arms over his shoulders, while his go around your body, rubbing your back and head
He doesn't talk because he doesn't want to overwhelm you, so he silently rubs you and kisses you until your sobs turn into sniffles
"Let me take care of you tomorrow?" He asks, pulling away to look into your eyes
You pull him back into the hug and nod "please"
Jeff The Killer
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Jeff doesn't really know how to deal with his own emotions, let alone someone else's
So when he sees you in a funk, he decides to just leave you alone and let you deal with it yourself, because he doesn't trust himself enough to actually help instead of hurt
But this of course, it seen as him leaving you in your time of need from your perspective
So this only makes matters worse, causing you to snap at others for small things, like when Toby accidentally bumps into you while you are on the way to get another snack
He of course, apologizes profusely, but it just isn't your day so you yell at him and tell him to be more careful next time
When Jeff gets home, Toby is talking about the incident with another creep
Not in a malicious way, but in a concerned way
This peaks Jeff's interest "What are you saying about my partner over there??"
"I'm just worried is all. They totally blew up after I accidentally bumped into them" Toby says, putting his hands up defensively
Jeff scoffs and rolls his eyes, already tired of the mood you're in
So he goes up to your room and walks in angrily saying "Why are you being such a dick? What'd Toby ever do to you?"
You don't feel like arguing, so you snuggle further into your bed
He laughs at this "Seriously? You're gonna ignore me? Listen dude, I don't know who you think you are but I really don't like this fucking color on you. Fix your attitude before I fix it for you" And with that he slams your door
Next day, you bump into each other in one of the hallways, and he tries to talk to you obviously seeing you still upset, but you push past him
Or at least try to
He quickly catches you and pins you against a wall "Just listen to me, won't you?!" he yells
This is all too much for you, so you begin to cry, bowing your head so maybe he won't see it
He softens at this, loosening his grip and looking at you confusedly "Why....why are you crying?"
"Why are you being so mean to me??" You ask as you sob
He sighs and brings you into a tight hug "Ok.....Ok tell me how long you've been upset"
"A long time!" You say truthfully "It's not even about Toby!"
"Why didn't you say anything??" He asks, cradling your head against his shoulder
You grip onto his chest and try to catch your breath before talking "Because you left and I thought you didn't want to see me!" You whine in a fast, high pitched voice
Despite this, he seems to catch every word "No, baby, baby....I always wanna see you I just didn't wanna hurt you...." He whispers into your head
"But you did!" You say into his shoulder
"I know....I'm sorry" He rubs your back a bit before kissing your head
"....really?" you sniffle
"Yeah" He pulls away and lifts your head to kiss your forehead, before pulling you back into the hug
You are quiet for a while, standing in the hallway and holding each other before you finally break the silence "it did feel good to cry"
He snorts and pulls away "Well I'm glad you liked it, because now I have snot and spit all over my hoodie"
You smile and kiss his nose "You love it"
Ben Drowned
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Barely moving himself, he probably won't notice for a little bit
But when he does, he just assumes you're in a lazy mood, So he tries to snuggle up with you in bed
You flip over, avoiding his touch which makes him raise an eyebrow "Hey, you ok? It's cool if you just wanna be alone but this isn't like you"
"I'm fine" you say quickly
"....oookay.....do you want me to leave you alone?" He asks, his face changing from confused to concerned
You don't answer for a long while, but when you finally do you say "no"
"ok" he says simply, staying to his own side of the bed while he plays video games
Eventually, you begin to cry softly, and you flip back over to snuggle into his chest, wrapping your arms and legs around him like a koala
He looks at you for a moment before putting the game aside for a second and petting your head "I thought you said you were ok?"
You shake your head and cling harder
"Alright, c'mere" he says, pulling you up into his lap and putting your head in the crook of his neck
You try to hide your face away in his shoulder, but he grabs your chin before you get the chance "Hold still, I wanna kiss you" he says
With this, he kisses anywhere he can reach, eventually letting you drop your head back onto his shoulder while he grabs onto your arm and kisses from your shoulder all the way down to the tips of your fingers
Once he is done, he looks down at you, seeing that you are now only sniffling he uses a knuckle to wipe away any remaining tears "now are you ok?"
You nod and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his cheek "Good. I like seeing you happy"
He then pecks your lips and hands you another controller, so that you can play the previously discarded game together
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smilingbuckley · 1 day
Text
20 questions for fic writers
Tagged by @diazsdimples
1. How many works do you have on ao3?
302 because I removed some earlier works (2018) from anonymous. I've been writing since like 2016 in general and moved some fics from wattpad to ao3 in 2018/2019
2. What's your total ao3 word count?
1,369,693
3. What fandoms do you write for?
Mainly 9-1-1. Though I also want to write a few more for Roswell New Mexico and The Rookie. I used to write Teen Wolf, Legenfs of Tomorrow and Glee fics. Dipped my toes into a few other fandoms as well.
4. Top 5 fics by kudos
The Human of the Pack (Teen Wolf, 3,149 kudos)
Firefighter Diaz (9-1-1, 3,096 kudos)
5 Times Bobby and Athena Acter Like Buck's Parents + 1 Time They Actually Are (9-1-1, 2,366 kudos)
driving me wild (9-1-1, 2,295 kudos)
this is a place where I feel at home (9-1-1, 2,204)
5. Do you respond to comments?
Yes! Sometimes it takes me a few days because it can be overwhelming, but I try to respond to everything. Except ones that complain about something, I tend to ignore them
6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?
I tend to prefer happy endings, but I have I think 3 with sad endings. While unrequited Buddie is very sad, I think the angstiest one is where Bobby is dying and Buck cries in Eddie’s arms. (That ending is sadder than the sequel where Bobby actually dies because in that ending, Buck dies of old age and gets reunited with Bobby again)
If you want to read them, you can find the series here.
7. What is the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?
Hmm. I don't know. I try to always write a happy ending. So almost all of them?? I really don't know which one to choose.
8. Do you get hate on fics?
Occasionally. I usually delete them. I think only 2 fics got a lot - one where Tarlos was tagged as a background ship but the Tarlos fans got angry that they weren't the main ship, so an entire army of Tarlos fans flooded my comments with anonymous hate comments. And one where Chris is being a teenager and in an argument says that Buck isn't his father or something like that, I think that he wished Buck and Eddie weren't dating? It's been a while since I wrote it. Anyway, I wrote Buck getting insecure and sad and breaking up with Eddie without telling him why and people got mad at me that Buck didn't tell Eddie - though I did that on purpose because Buck was very insecure and didn't want to hurt Eddie with that knowledge. Ended up turning off comments in general for a while.
9. Do you write smut?
Yep. For a long time smut made me uncomfortable and now here I am...
10. Craziest crossover?
Oohh haven't written one in years. I once wrote a Christmas fic back in 2018 where every fandom I was in got connected, but I ended up deleting that one because it was a mess. I think I wrote one or two Glee/The Flash crossovers where Barry and Sebastian were related? Oh, and one with Teen Wolf where Barry and Stiles were related.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?
I did once get a message that someone copied my fic to wattpad but it was deleted by the time I checked it out. Otherwise, I'm not aware of an entire fic, word for word, being stolen
12. Have you ever had a fic translated?
Yes! Two actually. And people have reached out recently offering new translations as well.
Right now one of my Teen Wolf fics was translated into Spanish and a 9-1-1 fic to Ukrainian.
13. Have you co-written a fic before?
Not since my Wattpad days
14. All time favorite ship?
Romantically: Buddie.
A relationship (not romantic) in general: Buck & Bobby. They are my favorite relationship of all time. I just love their father-son bond.
15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you will
Oohhhh uhm.... my farm fic. I love the idea of it but it has been more than a year since I touched it and realistically... I probably won't ever touch it.
(My farm fic is an AU where Buck was forced to take the lawsuit money and left to start a farm with rescue animals. He makes up with everyone but Eddie and keeps in contact with Christopher with letters and postcards. One day, Christopher runs away after an argument with Eddie, and he goes to visit Buck. Buck calls Eddie because he has to, so Eddie comes pick him up. But then there's a storm and they're stuck staying with Buck)
16. What are your writing strengths?
I am allergic to saying anything positive about my writing so I couldn't tell you 😂
17. What are your writing weaknesses?
Pff. Uhm. Descriptions maybe? I tend to mostly write dialogue. I try to add some more actions while editing but don't always manage to.
18. Thoughts on dialogue in another language
I'm learning Spanish on duolingo just so I can include more Spanish in my fics, but I don't often do it. I do really like it though. I love it when bilingual characters speak the other language.
Back in my Seblaine days, I loved writing Sebastian speaking French. And I don't think I wrote it, but I also used to love Teen Wolf fics where Stiles spoke Polish.
19. First fandom you wrote for
Every Witch Way. I was 11 or 12 years old and new to Wattpad. There were no Dutch fanfics so I wrote my own. I learned English by reading fanfics. (Very important: I was team Jemma.)
The first one I wrote in English was Teen Wolf, also on Wattpad... it wasn't great.
20. Favorite fic you've written
I love writing long fics the most. My all time favorite is probably worth staying for, my nurse Buck fic.
Though a more recent one that I loved writing soooo much is since I met you, I just can't forget you which is my veterinarian Buck x cat dad Eddie fic. I loved it so much.
Tagging: @buddieswhvre @tizniz @steadfastsaturnsrings @watchyourbuck @theotherbuckley @jesuiscenseedormir @loveyouanyway @bidisasterevankinard @chaosandwolves @mattsire @mel-vaz @inkmortal-trash389 @princess-of-the-snake-pit @nilletellsstories @laundryandtaxesworld @specialbrownieeater @m1kayu
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simplydannie · 2 days
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Fanfic about Poppy, Viva, and Velvet?
Great minds think alike! I had another friend request a little something between Poppy, Viva, and Velvet! @fairytypingg
Poppy and Viva friends with Velvet seems kinda out place, especially with Velvet's character being the way it is. But I think the little happiness that Poppy and Viva bring might be just the thing to help her.
We Got You
"IM FINE! JUST LEAVE ME ALONE VENEER!" Velvet marched into her suit, and shut the door. "Vels!" Her brother attempted to run in after her, but the door was locked. He jiggled the knob, "Vels, please, talk to me."....Silence. She had been on edge recently, well, not recently, more like when they got out of prison...actually...when they were in prison. Veneer had made every attempt to talk to her, to have her open up to him about things that were going, about their next steps together....but she's completely shut him out. With a heavy sigh, Veneer retreated.
"The twins were set to call Vacay Island their home for the next couple of months. Bruce and Brandy have allowed them to work and live in one of the suits. Veneer enjoyed it, he felt like he was finally doing something right, something good. Velvet felt different. So many emotions were building inside of her, so many questions that needed answers. What would happen to them when they were done with their community service? Where would they live? The Trolls didn't really care for them. She hated how Veneer was always after them, always seeking their approval. They were always judging them she knew, but they didn't know it, they didn't know anything.... Velvet noticed...It was the first thing she noticed: Veneer was sick again. "Hey Vellie!" Velvet rolled her eyes at the sound of an annoying little Troll...Poppy. She just ignored her, just like she always would. She continued to clean he tables at the resort. "You know I'm going to get you to hang out with me and Viva! We're always looking to add another sister." The little Troll chimed. "I don't want a sister." Velvet said coldly. Another annoying voice piped up next to Poppy. "Uh, of course you do! Who wouldn't want a sister!" Viva exclaimed. "I have a brother. I'm good. Now can you PLEASE leave me alone." Velvet's tone was flat. Poppy tilted her head as she took a good look at the Rageon....Sadness, worry, fatigue...That's what Poppy saw. Velvet was trying to hold everything together, Poppy knew there was something beneath the service that was really troubling her. She opened her mouth to say something... "Hey guys!" Veneer came in holding a tray. He sported a dark blue vest with a black rolled up sleeve button up underneath. Black skinny pants were worn beneath his torso. "Guess whose the new waiter around here?" He did a full turn to show off his new look. "Meow! Vels doesn't your brother look so handsome!" Viva chimed. "Ugh." The Rageon rolled her eyes as she moved on to the next table. Veneer followed her hesitantly. "You know, we get off at the same time. Oh! Let's go snorkling before it gets dark!" A smile spread across his face. Poppy looked at Velvet to study her response. The Rageon's expression was left unchanged. "Seriously, you're asking again? " She replied without turning to look at him. "Go get the drinks to serve! Or you're fired." With a defeated look, Veneer retreated into the kitchen. Velvet could feel the eyes of the two small Trolls piercing her from behind.
"Why don't you ever want to hang out with him? Us, I guess I understand. But he's your brother. I'd give every chance to always be with Poppy." Viva explained. Velvet remained silent. Viva turned to her sister, hoping for some support.
"Velvet, is something else going on? I don't mean to always pry, but I always hear Veneer trying to open up to you...You just seem to...always shut him out. You know you....you can talk to me...You can talk to Viva! Girl to girl." Poppy tried her best to express her feelings of concern for the Rageon. One thing she learned about being queen, was how to read people, how to know when someone was sad, afraid, holding back.
"What goes on with me is none of your business. I just want to do my time and get out of here..."
CRASH!
The three girls turned their heads towards the sound of breaking glass coming from the kitchen. Velvet was the first to run in: Veneer was on the floor, struggling to get up, broken glass all around him.
"Vennie!" Viva attempted to go to his aid.
"Stay away!" Velvet was the first to his side.
"My bad!" He attempted a smile. "I-I slipped." Liar, Velvet mused. She could see the weakness in his arms and legs, how they went limp, how he struggled to find his strength to stand.
"Don't lie to me, Ven." She demanded. Her brother fell silent as she struggled to help him to his feet...his legs continuing to give out.
"How can we help you? Vellie, please tell us what to do." Poppy begged.
"YOU CAN LEAVE US ALONE!" Velvet screamed. She latched one of Veneer's arm over her should, struggling, she began to lead him away towards their suit.
"Vels!" Viva called out after her. But the Rageon ignored any kindness and any help that was thrown her way. A feeling fell at the pit of Viva's stomach as she watched the twins march off. "Poppy, I can't help but feel that something is wrong...Something is terribly wrong."
"I know Viv....me too." Poppy stretched and reached for Viva's hand.
Poppy and Viva continued to replay that moment in the kitchen throughout the rest of the day. They couldn't think right, couldn't eat. Velvet was always tough in the surface, but something told them, deep down, there was a little girl crying for help, crying for an answer to all their problems.
How would they know? Because they were that little girl at one point. Viva leading the group of surviving Trolls after the Bergen attack, living 20 years thinking she had lost her family. And Poppy...She made it seem like being queen was all cupcakes and rainbows, but she learned that it wasn't, but she knew her kingdom couldn't see her weak...she had to always be strong no matter what she felt. They wanted to tell Velvet that it was okay to be vulnerable sometimes...but how could they? She'd always close them off.
Poppy was headed off to the rooms of the resort that were specifically for Trolls. She had a warm tea in hand to help her calm her nerves and thoughts. That's when Viva came running down the hall.
"Poppy! Hurry come here!"
Without a second thought, Poppy dropped her tea and followed her sister.
Viva lead her outside the door of a suit. Inside, they could hear the sobs, the small little cries. Poppy held her hand over her mouth as her heart broke.
"Who is it?" She asked.
"I....I saw Vellie walk out of her suit. I followed her hoping she'd want to talk. She walked in here...That's when I heard the cries." Viva responded with saddened eyes. The Troll sisters took a moment before making up their mind. Nodding to each other, they pushed open the door that was luckily left slightly open.
The cries grow louder as they walked inside the suit. All lights were off, the only thing illuminating the room was the moonlight shining through the window. The girls followed the sound....That's when they found Velvet hunched in a corner.
She held her knees tight, her face buried in them. Her shoulders shuddered with every cry she made...
"Vels." Poppy whispered as she made her way to the Rageon.
"Go away..." Velvet said in between her cries.
"No! That's enough of you trying to push us away!" Viva said sternly. She made her way up to Velvet's knees, placing a small hand on her fingers. "Talk to us. Please."
"We want to be your friend Velvet. We've wanted to be your friend since you guys arrived to us." Poppy explained.
"I don't want friends."
"Maybe you think so now....but you DO need people who care for you. You have your brother, and we want to be there for you too." Viva said.
Upon the mention of Veneer, Velvet's cries grew severe. Poppy and Viva enclosed around her, laying their hands on her, embracing her as much as they could.
"Velvet....please." Poppy pleaded once more as she embrace the Rageon in her small arms. They allowed silence to pass between them, they allowed Velvet to just be vulnerable....to cry. This was something she had held in for so long...
"He's sick." Velvet finally spoke. "Veneer is sick again....and I don't have the money to help him." The Trolls looked at each other, a horrified expression in their eyes...This is what she had been hiding for so long.
"...I wish you had said something sooner." Viva exclaimed as she continued to hug her.
"Why? There's nothing you can do."
"How do you know? Vellie, you only know your little world, the world inside Rageous. You have no idea how big the world is....and you have no idea how many options there can be to help your brother." Poppy joined Viva on Velvet's knees, together they lifted the Rageons head so she could look at them. "We care for Vennie as much as you do....We want to help you."
"Please, Vellie. We know how it feels like. We know how it feel's to try and have it together! You don't have to go through this alone. Let us be there for you. We got you." Viva added.
Through teary eyes, Velvet glanced back and forth between the two sisters...There was no lie in their voices. She could see they were looking at her not with pity, but with genuine concern. Velvet really never allowed for anyone to see her vulnerable...especially her brother. She always wanted to be the tough one, the strong one...but maybe with these girls she could be. Velvet hugged her knees tighter...
"....okay...." She said softly. No more words were exchanged, no more words needed to be exchanged. Viva and Poppy drew closer to Velvet, this time hugging her face, hoping that she could feel their love and care for her.
They had her.
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