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#their friendship growing over the years [clutches chest]
laslow · 10 months
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"We are bound for the land I was born in," Sara shares in a particularly quiet voice, wistful as she looks on the horizon. It will be days before they come close to approaching land, but her eyes remain fixated towards the distance like she can clearly see Jugdral's shores already.
"You should be careful. Though there is no questioning your skill with a blade, those we will soon face avoid direct confrontations when they can. Our adversaries will employ tactics that could be considered underhanded. The laws of the Church can be unforgiving. Dissent is punishable, traitors are executed. They do not value their lives or rather, they were taught not to by those higher in the chain of command." Light vanishes from Sara's eyes, expression growing increasingly listless until her whole face has become devoid of emotion.
"Your life belongs to the Lord. Your soul never truly vanishes from this world. You may suffer an unpleasant earthly death, but you live on through Loptous". An agonizing melancholy washes over her, one that takes Sara back to childhood. She laughs and does not know why. "It went something like that. I do not recall it anymore. I am telling you because I do not wish for you to die."
He'd been humming a sea shanty under his breath, coiling rope and generally staying out of the way by the bow when she appeared. The sun sinks lower, staining the sky shades of orange and gold. Laslow glances up at Sara, finishing the last coil before bracing his hands against the railing.
Mouth remains shut while she speaks. Interrupting now feels rude, almost dismissive of the trust she's placing in him by voicing her thoughts and concerns aloud. He's honored by her trust.
Gaze flicks over to her, side profile outlined in radiant yellow against the deepening blue sky. A shiver trips down his spine that has little to do with the fair breeze keeping their sails full. Her recitation of such an ugly vow followed by her laugh makes the fine hairs on the back of his neck stand on end. Laslow swallows, attention returning to the sea.
"Thank you, Sara. It feels right, somehow, that I should return to your homeland with you." After everything they've endured together, this feels like the natural course of things. Not quite an ending; he's said enough goodbyes for two lifetimes to ever rush along another. A new beginning instead, perhaps, or at the very least yet a wider understanding of the world.
He's careful when choosing his next words. "The Church sounds a lot like a religious sect I once fought. Perhaps it is a good thing you no longer remember their teachings with stark clarity. It means you not only survived, but found the will to move forward."
A tiny smile graces his lips. "But I will keep your words in mind. I'd rather not die so far away from my family. The same goes for you--I've always got your back, Sara. And if...if I don't get the chance," he starts, once more facing her, "I'm elated our paths crossed for this long. Promise me you'll keep smiling, yeah?"
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calicoheartz · 11 days
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Request:
Can you make a Paige x reader inspired by from the start by laufey.
Paige adores reader. Their dads have always been good friends. So they were always together when they were younger. (as in the song) Paige is like kinda nervous around reader, not the most confident in herself. And now at UConn she is still all over reader, her confidence has improved but reader is oblivious to her feelings. (So basically a Paige pov, but you can mix it between the two)
Hope u like my request! 💗
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𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓 ; 𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐆𝐄 𝐁𝐔𝐄𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐑𝐒
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꣑୧ — summary | you and Paige had been inseparable since the two of you were younger, she's adored you since the day she laid eyes on you. with you oblivious to her feelings, how does she plan on making you see her the way she sees you?
wc ; 1k
— warnings | tiny bit suggestive if u squint , slowburn (?) , friends to lovers !
my master list ㇀♡
a/n : aww this was so sweet to write thank you so much for requesting anon! enjoy besties !
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Paige’s POV : 
I have loved y/n since the summer of when i was 13, I had known her for years prior to my quite obvious revelation. 
Our dads had been best friends since university, so it was obvious that once the two of them had children, it was bound that we would be best friends.
I remember the first time I saw her, back when our dads introduced us at one of their weekend get-togethers. She was this bright, confident kid, always ready with a smile and a laugh. I, on the other hand, was the shy one, the one who'd rather dribble a basketball in the corner than join in on the games she loved to play.
Even then, I was drawn to her. I couldn't quite place why, but there was something about her that made my heart race and my palms sweat. She was always so kind, always so patient with me. As the years went by and we grew older, our dads' friendship meant we spent almost every weekend together. It was in those moments, watching you from the sidelines, that I realized I wanted to be more than just friends.
I couldn’t help but be a little envious when she got her first boyfriend, I mean why couldn't she see that I was right in front of her? I listened to all the heartbreaks, all the tears, and it made my heart ache knowing that she doesn't realize how much I truly love her. 
Throughout highschool, the more time i spent with y/n the more my feelings manifested into something i could no longer control, everything she did and said made me nervous. The way her eyes sparkled under the dim lights of the basketball court after practice, the way her laugh echoed in the halls, the way her smile made me weak in the knees. Everything about her was magical, as if a drop of the heavens fell from the sky and somehow adorned her complexion, mesmerizing me every time I saw her. 
Which is why when we both made the commitment to uconn, i knew i was eventually going to have to come clean to her. I couldn’t stand to watch the love of my life slip away between my fingers, and I knew I would regret it for the rest of my life if I never told her. 
My confidence on the court has soared, and I've found my place here, but when it comes to you, I still feel like that shy girl from our childhood. I wonder if you even notice the way I look at you, the way my breath catches when you laugh, the way I can't help but gravitate towards you whenever we're in the same room.
It was just me and you, in awkward silence.
I mean how hasn't she noticed how I get quiet when there's no one else around? 
But what's a girl to do? Lying on my bed, staring into the blue..
My love for her is driving me a little bit insane, I have to get this off my chest.
I'm telling you today.
Readers POV : 
Paige has always been a part of my life, a constant presence that I sometimes take for granted. Our dads' friendship meant that we were practically inseparable growing up. I remember her as the quiet one, always a bit nervous, always clutching her basketball like it was a lifeline. I liked having her around, though. There was something comforting about her steady presence.
Being at UConn together has been amazing. Watching Paige on the court, seeing her confidence bloom, has been incredible. She's become this powerhouse player, admired by everyone. I'm proud of her, and I make sure to tell her often.
What I don't understand is why she always seems a little flustered around me. I mean, we've known each other forever. There's no reason for her to be nervous, right? I chalk it up to her being busy with basketball and school, but sometimes I catch her looking at me with this intense expression, and it makes me wonder if there's something more.
Paige’s POV : 
Tonight, we're having one of our usual study sessions in my dorm room. I try to focus on my notes, but my eyes keep drifting towards you. You're sitting on my bed, textbooks spread out around you, a determined look on your face. It's moments like these that make me wish I could just tell you how I feel.
"Paige, you okay?" Your voice breaks through my thoughts.
I blink, realizing I've been staring. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just thinking."
You give me a curious look. "About what?"
I hesitate, the words on the tip of my tongue. "About... us. About how long we've known each other."
You smile, a soft, nostalgic smile. "We've been through a lot, haven't we?"
"Yeah," I agree, my heart pounding. "And there's something I've been meaning to tell you."
You tilt your head, eyes bright with curiosity. "What is it?"
Before I can lose my nerve, I take a deep breath. "I've had feelings for you for a long time. Since we were kids. I was always too scared to say anything, but I can't keep it to myself anymore."
Readers POV : 
I'm stunned. Paige's words hang in the air, and for a moment, I can't believe what I'm hearing. Paige, the girl who's always been there, who I thought I knew so well, has had feelings for me all this time?
"Paige," I start, my voice barely above a whisper. "I had no idea. I..."
Her face falls slightly, and I realize how much this confession has cost her. I reach out, taking her hand in mine. "I never noticed, but now that you've said it... it makes sense. The way you've always been there for me, the way you look at me."
She looks at me with hope in her eyes. "Does this change anything for you?"
I think about it for a moment, then smile. "I think it does. I think it's something we should explore."
Paige's face breaks into a relieved, joyful smile, and for the first time, I see her confidence shine through, not just on the court, but here with me. From the start, we've always been there for each other, and now, we have the chance to turn our story into something even more beautiful.
Paiges POV :
just thinking of you...I know ive loved you from the start.
a/n : mighttttt make a part 2 to this....THIS HEALED MY DEPRESSION WHFBQEHR!! as always, thank u sm for reading !
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katzenmas · 4 months
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just imagine cbf!Gaz seeing you again after ten years. Last time he saw you was when you guys finished your GCSEs. somehow you still looked the same even after all these years. the loud laugh that you barked out in the midle of the supermarket made him do a 160 degree turn.
he knew that godawful laugh, and it belonged to a snarky mean girl he knew as a kid. she was awful, always making fun of him in some way or another, showing up at his house like she owned it, eating his snacks and staying for dinner that his ma prepared. you were a nuisance at first. just some kid that moved in two houses down. then you became a thorn at his side when you caught him staring at your old my little pony dolls.
that very day, under the hot summer sun, napes sticky with sweat and lips tugged into smiles while you and Kyle played with your dolls, a beautiful friendship was born.
both of you started school, as fate would have it, you were conveniently placed as classmates. always going to and coming back from school together. never once did you grow apart. during those eleven years in school you and kyle both got new friends, different friendgroups but never lost sight of each other.
but then he joined the military. he finished his exams and got his acceptance letter into bootcamp the same day. his excited expression fell from his face when he saw how you clutched the letter he gave you a bit more tightly. your eyes looked up into his, with white molten rage simmering in your irises.
' I will be protecting you! protecting the whole country' he was screaming. nervous hands running to run his fingers through his hair, small puffs of air heaving out of kyle's chest.
' Yes by killing other people who are doing the same thing Kyle! don't you get it? you are just a body to them, you will be replaced by some other idiot kid who thinks he can be a hero' your yell tore through his room. you two have been at it for hours now. his whole room was a mess, things were thrown in the heat of the moment, some old football trophy lay broken next to a sweater of his that you threw at kyle's head.
'please, just stay' you were much quieter, your tone pleading, begging him to reconsider. ' just stay with me, be safe with me'
next morning he took his bags and left for bootcamp.
it's been ten years since that. turns out you still live in the small town you guys grew up in, or maybe you're visiting our parents? kyle's mind is running a hundred miles per hour, looking over at your form, trying to notice what had changed.
the first thing he noticed was your hair. it was no longer styled in the edgy way you liked to keep it during your rebellious teenage years. it was your natural hair color, a few strands framed your face and shook round as you laughed with your shopping partner.
the next thing he noticed were your hands. your fingers more specifically. kyle was looking each of your fingers, trying to notice even the smallest flash of metal. of a ring. he came up empty handed.
before he could choose another part of you to analyze, the loud sound of glass breaking got him to look up.
the jar of pickles you were holding slipped from your hands. your fingers were shaking, eyes trained on him, frozen in stupor. kyle saw the gears turn in your head, he could almost see the memories of your fight flashing by your eyes. your friend placed a hand on your shoulder but you ignored it, staring kyle down with a cold gaze.
a few beats of silence streched for far longer than kyle would have liked, so he broke it.
'hey there! its been years' he tried to sound casual about it but it came out a bit forced, his voice sounded like there was soemthing lodged in the back of his throat. he outstretched his arm and moved closer to you, but was left frozen mid action as you turned your back towards him and just picked another jar of pickled from the shelf in front of you.
you did not dignify him kyle with a response, hellbent on acting like he was not even standing there. you shook your head and turned to your friend, a smile graced your lips again as you pushed your trolley past Kyle, never looking at him again.
' did you know that guy?'
'i dont think so, can't remember him' kyle felt his heart shatter.
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idk where i was going with this. it was supposed to be a smutty one at first and then i was like hmmm... haven't written agnst yet. so yeah.
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tanfilms · 1 year
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hii!! perhap write some argument between xavier and reader and then them making up?? could be over anything
FIGHTS N’ GROVELING . . . 🦪
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CHARACTERS. xavier thorpe 𝒙 reader
GENRE & WARNINGS. fluff. romance. sexual tension and suggestive themes. friends-ish to lovers.
SYNOPSIS. you would do anything to prove your best friend was not the Hyde, even if it went against your own safety.
A/N. sorry this is short! i wanted to start our simple to test my writing style if anyone liked it etc. I hope you actually like it :)
PS — english is not my first language and I use a correction app for a lot of things so please be gentle on me 😭 esp if the pov suddenly changes because i can’t catch mistakes sometimes!!
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Your heart was hammering against your ribs in a pathetically rapid manner. You hated confrontations, the said action always leading to heated arguments with the unfortunate way you manage to handle bubbling situations. But what else were you to do?
An entire event. Almost the entirety of the dance was of complete silence and harsh glares from Xavier’s end after he saw you laugh along the arms of Tyler. It was a misunderstanding to be fair. You’d fallen on the paint covered ground of the dance floor and he’d helped you up after cracking a joke. You know as the best friend of the boy he’d assaulted that you should’ve declined his help and looked for Xavier, but he’d been stressing about Wednesday for the past week that you’d entirely forgotten any sort of friendship had been formed between the both of you.
“Fine, ignore me all you will but don’t act like you haven’t abandoned me for the past three weeks since the beginning of the year Xav-”
He aggressively wiped down the faux blood from his eyes, staring at you with what you can only assume was growing hatred, “Y/n, I am currently being accused of being a deadly monster that hurt his own friends, forgive me for trying to figure out why an Addams of all people, would come to this conclusion.”
Your frown deepens. That he never told you, so you’d went on to assume that he’d harboured a crush on her — which to be fair, you’d understood but also didn’t appreciate. “You never told me that, why do you never tell me anything anymore?”
“Great, somehow this is my fault and I’m to blame for trying not to have you worry, thanks Y/n, wonderful speaking with you.” And with that, he’d stormed off to the direction of his dorm, leaving your mouth agape and speechless as students scurry off with dramatic screams and painted dresses.
You didn’t like the way the conversation had ended, your core sprinkled with guilt as you let the immature side of your heart take over you back then. Looking around with no other place on your mind, you follow a trail you’d left before to his shack. If there is a chance he could ever be locked up, you’d want to be the only person to decrease it. So while shuffling the bottom of your dress into your arms, you slip your heels off as you run into the darkening woods.
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His knees shook violently on the side of the bed. The night had passed since your argument, and by now you would normally come knocking on his door with a batch of apology cookies from the store that you’d claimed to bake.
But it was stillness from your side, no calls, no Enid speaking on your behalf; and it distressed his mind endlessly. Xavier was aware that he wasn’t fully at fault; but still partly to blame for your own careless actions, and so his heart weighed heavy on his chest since your absence. With swift movement, he’d clutched his phone, drying his hair once more with a towel before leaving his dorm in hopes to catch up with you quickly.
Walking through the halls, eyes landed on him in oddly intense stares. He cleared his throat as he slid his way past multiple pupils. “What is it with everyone today,” he murmured to himself, light drops of sweat catching onto his eyebrows furiously as he spotted a weeping Enid being comforted by Yoko on the other end of the hall — with a straight-faced Wednesday staring with a perplexed look upon the two.
The blonde caught sight of him, jumping up from her position to have her hands land on the taller boy’s shoulders. “Oh Xavier I’m so sorry, she just left and didn’t tell any of us where she was going. But i promise she’s going to be okay, she’s Y/n she’ll be fine!”
A heavy sigh left him as he felt a headache sneaking up on him, and his breathing race quicker at the mention of your name in a depressing manner. He gulped, throat dry and hands clenching a fistful of the ends of his shirt. “What are you talking about? What happened to Y/n?”
At that, the vampire and werewolf had plastered similar expressions on all of their faces, and it frustrated him even more. Wednesday’s lips tugged upwards in a smirk, tilting her head agonisingly before speaking up. “Incredible. One would assume that you would be the first to know that your supposed ‘best friend’ was caught in the hands of the Hyde yesterday after the dance…was it not after a quarrel you two were having or am I wro-”
The words were cut off after Enid smacked her arm with a shriek and an alarmed face of shock, a frown on her lips as she watched Xavier’s mood shift from frustration to clear raging fear. It was his fault.
“She’s not dead,” Yoko spoke up, “She was in the infirmary with a couple face scratches and a past bleeding womb. It wasn’t bad enough for an urgent ride to the hospital, so she’s currently residing in her own dorm passed out from exhaustion.”
The Thorpe’s nods were faded as he was lost in his own head, horrible theory’s of your current well-being jumping one another in a consistent manner to assault his thoughts. Hands visibly shaking as quick as his ragged breaths, he uttered a low thank you to the trio before his feet were painfully dragging him to your direction.
Anger. Hurt. Confusion. All piled upon him like a sudden crashing wave when he’d reached your door. What do they mean you’re not left in a hospital? Did you not deserve better care? Better care than what he could’ve possibly offered? Too busy allowing his thoughts to consume him and wallowing in his own misery, he flinched when the door jiggled open — your tired yet bright figure gazing at him strangely.
“Y/n…” he whispered, your name igniting a fire in the pit of his stomach. Xavier’s pale hands were clutching the hot chocolate and food he’d picked up on his way here for you, hands burning but your presence numbing it all. You smiled teasingly, already knowing why he’s here before stepping backwards and letting him inside.
Licking your lips, you watched as he set the bag and cup on your desk table before your back softly hit the wall behind you in a sudden movement. Lavender engulfing your senses, your favourite, as his arms wrapped around you in a soothing matter; as if you were the most fragile thing left in this world right now, and in his eyes you most definitely were.
“Am I here to comfort you or is it the other way around Thorpe?” Your tone was light hearted, joking with him in hopes of forgetting what had occurred before hand but it brought him back to his senses. Xavier let you go swiftly and his lips curled up as yours were pursed. “Why are you stupid enough to leave out to the woods, almost in the middle of the night, with nothing to protect you?? Did you seriously not think that through?”
Sighing, you reached out for the mug of delicacy behind him, huffing before thinking carefully of your next words. “I did it on purpose asshole. My whole intention was to get hurt.”
“What?” He blinked once, then twice awaiting for your explanation that left him agitated in his spot but he couldn’t find it in himself to rush you as you consumed your drink and dug through the bag of food. You looked so weak at the moment, skin pale from the medication he spotted near your drawer — enhancing the glint trickling in your eyes and the soft colour of your lips. A rippling sense of calmness flooded his senses watching you eat, ignoring the bruises piled up near the end of your eyes for his own sake and sanity.
“Hmm sorry, i’m just hungry. They’ve fed me nothing but soup the whole day — yuck,” coughing, you continued, “You would never hurt me no matter how angry you are at me Xav. Even if i trashed your Art shed again — still immensely sorry about that — you’re nothing but gentle with me and I just wanted to show that you’re just as kind hearted with everyone else, that you’re not Hyde.”
It clicked in his brain. If he were Hyde you would not have seen a scratch trailing your body. Further connecting the dots he realised as to why Wednesday had not bothered him either by the time he woke up, she knew he was innocent. He wouldn’t be locked up anytime soon and it was all because of you. His gaze was soft as it trailed up and down your figure.
That had been the kindest thing anyone had ever bothered to do for him, and his suppressed feelings leapt with euphoria at your selfish act. He stepped closer his hands tracing the scratch above your lips.
Your mouth went dry, dropping the bagel back into the brown bag absentmindedly as you watched his eyes land on the scar remaining above your lips. “Xav, listen I really am sorry. I didn’t think about you and Tyler, and I didn’t think I’d have to go this far-”
Xavier ignored your apology, muttering a low ‘shut up’ before he found his lips atop of your own. His hands cradled your face tenderly, and the gentle action caused you to inwardly sigh and kiss him back, a train of butterflies exploding within your stomach. His hands traced circles on the side of your cheeks, a small smile adorning his lips when you’d returned the romantic action.
“I can’t kiss you back if you’re going to smile,” you said after pulling a way, a light giggle leaving your own lips when he let out a quiet laugh. “Sorry, my bad L/n,” he apologised, “It’s going to be serious from now on, no laughing matter.”
You nodded, going along with the joke. “Intimate actions are of utmost seriousness Xav!” You pointed a finger at his chest and poked him. “Oh absolutely,” he chuckled, his lips finding home near your own once more, before pecking the marks that were tainted on your skin.
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gummie-cat · 1 year
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Pizza and secrets.
Desc: Charlie finds you diary and reads what you wrote about him in it.
warnings: Kissing, making out, closeted feelings, fluff, crushes
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After school you normally had Charlie over. it was a basic routine you've had in place since the 6th grade. And its now your senior year in high school and you're still doing the same practice. Today your guys agreement was to study. You both knew you wouldn't end up studying and you'd just get distracted but you enjoyed the company. Especially when its a guy you like.
You guys finally got out of school and were rushing to your car which was parked in the student lot off to the side of the school. You were so excited to get home. You absolutely HATED your school. "soooo what did you need help studying with again?" Charlie asked as soon as you guys sat down in the car. "just some homework shouldn't take long." You say as you start up your car and put some music on.
When you guys finally make it to your house the shut off the car and go inside. Both you and Charlie make a b-line to the kitchen to pig out. You see your mom sitting at the kitchen table doing some work (you assume) and say hi. "honey, me and your father are going out in a few for our anniversary. we probably wont be back until late can you please let out and feed the dog?" your mom said following slowly behind you guys as you made your way to the kitchen. "Yeah sure thing mom." You say opening the fridge and pulling out the lemonade. Charlie grabs 2 cups and slides them over to you. "Oh and by the way Charlie can stay over if you want because its a Friday." Your mom adds as she walks away going to her room to get ready.
You nod and you and Charlie walk up to your room with your stuff. "so what class is the homework for? or did you just fool me." Charlie says taking a seat at your desk and turning to face you. "I do actually have homework thank you very much. its for fucking geometry." you say sitting criss cross on your bed. "here lemme see if i can help." He says as he rolls your desk chair next to your bed. You pull out the paper and hand it to him and he takes one quick glance at it and says “yeah fuck no.” as rolls away back to your desk. “ughhhh” you exclaim as you toss the paper to the side. “ya know what. im gonna go order pizza. you stay here loser” You say as you get up and leave your room. “REMBER TO GET-“ you cut him off before he can finish “HALF PEPPERONI GOT IT.” you say marching down the stairs.
You pick up the phone and dial the local pizza place number and place your order. You then walk slowly upstairs and when you get to your bedroom door entrance you see Charlie flipping though and reading your diary. ‘SHIT. i left it out’ you think to yourself as you walk up and snatch it out of his hands. “Jesus y/n…” He says clutching his chest like you just scared him. “Stop snooping around in my room.” You tell him hitting him on the head with it. “Correction, i wasnt snooping. It just so happened to be on your desk.” He said puffing out his chest a little. You roll you eyes dramatically “are you done?” you say crossing your arms. “not yet… did you mean what you said about me? like all the ‘being jealous of kirby because im obsessed with her’?” He replies looking at you seriously. You blush and curse yourself for allowing you to leave your diary out and for this situation to happen. “Maybe…” you say nervously. Afraid of loosing a life long friendship. “So you meant what you said when you said you would kiss me?” He says. Now getting up from your desk chair and inching closer to you. “i- uhm… maybe?” You say obviously blushing even harder. You just wanted to die because of the embarrassment. If he told anyone you would never hear the end of if. “so would it be okay if i kissed you now?” He said slowly walking up to you and stroking your arm gently waiting for your response. But you’re dumbfounded. You can barely think. “y-yes…” you say growing redder and redder by the second.
He pulls you in by the jaw and kisses your lips passionately. Then he pulls back and smiles at you. “w-why’d you stop?” You say looking up into his eyes. “because i wanted to make sure you were okay and i didn’t want to assume you wanted to make out… which now im sensing was what you thought was going to happen.” He said smiling softly chuckling lightly. “I mean I did but like only if you wanted to because i want you to fee-“ you’re cut of by his mouth making contact with yours again. But a lot more aggressive this time. You quickly gather a rhythm and he starts to slip you his tongue. God you’re melting and your core is starting to become soaked just from getting touched the tiniest bit. He bites your lip and you whimper. He quickly swallows your whimpers and grins against your mouth. He starts to walk you back towards the bed and you fall on your back. He pins you to the bed and he starts kissing you. Slowly moving down to your jaw and then you neck to find your sweet spot. He knows he finds it because you whimper his name weakly. And once he finds it he abuses it. He starts sucking and nibbling quickly relieving the bite with his tongue. Meanwhile your whimpering his name as you become needy and sensitive. Suddenly you hear the doorbell. The pizza. He lifts his head from your neck and turns back around to face your bedroom door. “That must be the pizza huh?” He says looking back at you and grinning. “yeah uhm we should probably…” you say gesturing to your guys’s position. “Oh yeah right.” He says getting up and stumbling a little bit. Scratching the back of his next nervously he has a stupid look on his face. You cant help but give him a little smile before running down and paying for the pizza and bringing it back up to your room. You find charlie waiting on the bed for you. You bring the pizza box over and pop a movie on your tv. But its just background noise as you snuggle up into his arms. “ya know… im not obsessed with kirby.” He speaks up over the stupid show you guys are watching. “huh? what do you mean?” You say lifting your head to look at him. “I mean i wasn’t obsessed with kirby this whole time… i was obsessed with you. It was just a cover up. I love you” you snuggle up more into his side. “ I love you too Charlie.” You slowly close your eyes and fall asleep.
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word count: 1200 words
A/N: okay so it wasnt really smut but this is what i wanted to start it off with. I’ll work on one thats a lil more smutty next time but yeah hope you enjoyed :) I know this is a bjt short but ive been having sum writers block so i hope you enjoyed!!
this was also posted to my wattpad @Alex66035
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paridolll · 1 year
Text
Forever
Miguel O'Hara x AFAB!Spiderperson/best friend!reader.
Warnings: Miguel (yes he needs his own warning), Miguel in heat, AFAB!reader, pronouns not specifically mentioned, breeding, fang/biting kink, claws (if you squint), me being shit at writing smut 🧍🏼‍♀️
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You haven't seen Miguel in almost a week and finally had enough of his radio silence so you decided to use the spare key to his house and check on him yourself. As you made his way to his room, an odd smell filled the room. It was sweet, and similar to vanilla. Something about the scent made something stir deep in your core, but you ignored it and pushed the door to Miguel's room open. His room was horrible messy, clothes strewn everywhere and the smell of lust hanging thickly in the air. This was odd to you, as long as you've known him he was always high strung and almost annoyingly neat.
"Go away." He growled from under his covers, his voice strained. "Miguel? Oh my god, are you okay?? Are you hurt?" You rush over to him, hand brushing his shoulder as your eyes skate over his body, checking for injuries.
Miguel groaned in response to your touch, his body tensing up as you brushed his shoulder. He slowly pulled away from the covers, revealing red eyes and retractable talons. His chest heaved heavily, sweat coating his skin as he tried to fight the primal urge within him.
"I'm not hurt. But... I'm experiencing a heat." He muttered, his voice filled with discomfort as he sat up and clutched the blankets around his waist. "It's like a dog or a cat, I need to breed." You heaved a sigh of relief. "Can... can I help?" You say, sitting next to him on the bed. Even though he was your best friend, you couldn't leave him like this. And some part of you, buried under 5 years of friendship, wanted to know what it would be like to be filled by him.
Miguel hesitated for a moment, but then slowly nodded his head. "Please." He whispered, his voice laced with desperation as he leaned into you. "I can't take it anymore."
As he leaned into you, his scent only grew stronger, making you feel something stirring inside you. You could feel your own body growing hotter as well, the scent of his arousal filling your senses.
You reach out to touch his face, your fingers lingering along his jawline before you leaned in slowly for a kiss. The kiss started gentle, then progressed, quickly becoming needy. You swung your leg over him so you were straddling him and began kissing down his jaw, to his neck in desperation.
Miguel's chest rumbled in approval as you moved down to his neck, his breathing becoming labored as his body responded to your every touch. He wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him, allowing you to feel his body's heat.
As you kissed and nibbled on his neck, Miguel let out low, growling moans. His hands wandered up your back before he reached to the hem of your shirt and pulled it off, revealing your muscular frame. "You're so beautiful," he muttered, his eyes glowing almost hypnotically.
You blushed furiously, but smiled up at him.
"Thanks, Miggy" You pressed a kiss to his abdomen and pulled his shirt off. "Y'know, I've dreamed of this for a while" A bright smile on your face, you continued pecking at his abs, giving him a chance to stop you if he wanted to. "Well, you should have told me sooner."
He growled playfully, his eyes still glowing with an intense heat. He pulled you closer, hungrily kissing you as his hands roamed your body. His touch was rough but gentle, as if he couldn't quite control his own body.
"Can I suck you off, Miggy?" You asked, pawing at his huge bulge as you ground your hips against the carpet desperately. You hadn't felt this aroused in a long time, but you needed to get him off first.
Miguel moaned loudly at your touch, his body shuddering with pleasure. "Please," he groaned, his body twitching in anticipation. "I need it so bad."
As you worked on pulling down his pants, his erection sprang free, twitching with need. You licked your lips, admiring the sight of him before taking him into your mouth with a moan. His taste was sweet and heady, causing you to bob your head up and down on him, taking him as deep as you could go and letting out pleasured moans before finally pulling back up.
You pushed your head down again, scratching at his thighs with your nails as you drug your mouth up and down his length. As you reached the bottom of his shaft, you dipped your tongue out to toy at his balls. Pulling back up, you moaned around him. "Tell me how good it feels baby."
Miguel gripped the sheets beneath him, his muscles tensed as he moaned loudly.
"It feels so good," he grunted, his hips bucking slightly as you worked on him.
"Your mouth is amazing, just keep going like that."
He let out another moan as you toyed with his balls before returning back to his length. The sight of you taking him in deep was too much for him. With a primal growl, he came hard, filling your mouth with his hot seed. His body was spent, and he rested there panting, his chest heaving up and down as he tried to catch his breath.
As he came in your mouth, you jerked once, twice, a third time as you came around nothing. Slowly, you slipped up the length of his body and pressed yourself against him.
Miguel was still panting heavily as you made your way up his body, feeling your own heat and need as his body's scent continued to fill your senses. He pulled you closer to him, running his fingers through your hair before pressing his lips against yours in a heated kiss.
"God, you make me crazy." He whispered, his hand slipping down the curve of your waist even as he caught his breath. "I need more."
"Then take it baby. I'm all yours. Always have been." You whispered, rolling your hips against him as you spoke. Although it could be perceived as a heat of the moment phrase, you meant every word.
In a way, you could tell he knew it too as he let out a low growl at your words and rolled you over onto your back. His hands trailed down your body, taking in every curve and muscle he could find. His eyes glinted with a primal heat as he gazed at your body, his own body responding to your every move.
With deliberate slowness, he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you hungrily as he pressed his body against yours. He let his hands wander down to your hips before sliding them down to your core, teasing and stroking you until you were aching with need.
"Tell me what you want," he whispered, his voice husky with desire.
"G-god! Miguel!! Need you!! All of you! Any of you! Your mouth, your fingers your c-cock!" you garbled, overwhelmed by his touch. Miguel grinned hungrily at your words before kissing you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth as his fingers trailed down to your soaked center, teasing and stroking you until you were writhing beneath him. He let out a growl before trailing kisses down your neck and chest, taking your breasts into his mouth and teasing them until your nipples were hard.
He then made his way back down to your core, kissing and nipping at your inner thighs before slipping his fingers inside you. Your body jerked in pleasure as he worked on you with his fingers, his mouth coming down to your core to tease your clit with his tongue.
"You like that?" He chuckled against you, his fingers continuing to work wonders inside of you. "Tell me how much."
"Miguel!! FUCK!! Sho goodd!" you slurred, eyes rolling back into my head as you ground your hips against his face. "Please! Let me cum!! Bite me, claw me, I'm begging!" you moaned desperately, gripping the sheets as he worked you.
Miguel growled in response, his own body straining with need as he slid his fingers in and out of you, his mouth working on your clit in an attempt to tease you to your peak. He felt his fangs lengthen, his own body in heat and desperate to claim you as his own.
With a groan, he bit down on your inner thigh, his fangs piercing your flesh as his fingers continued to work their magic.
Your body tensed up at the sensation before exploding in pleasure, your core clamping down on his fingers as you came hard.
Miguel moaned at the sight, his own release building inside of him as he pulled away from you, his body shaking with need. "God, I need you." He growled, his eyes glowing hungrily in the dim light.
"Then fuck me, baby! FUCK! All yours!!" You clawed at his shoulders, silently praying he would bite you again.
Miguel grinned hungrily at your words before rolling you over onto your stomach.
He positioned himself behind you, his hands sliding down to grasp your hips before thrusting into you with a primal growl.
He began to pound into you, his body bucking wildly as he lost control. His fangs lengthened, and he leaned down, biting into your shoulder and digging his claws into your flesh. The sensation was both painful and erotic, causing your body to convulse with pleasure.
Miguel let out a low growl, his body contracting with pleasure as he came hard inside of you. He collapsed on top of you, his body heaving with exhaustion as he panted against your skin.
"You're mine now," he muttered, his fangs lingering on your skin. "Forever."
"Always, miele. Always." You whispered, pressing delicate kisses to his heaving chest and heated skin.
Miguel wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close to him and nuzzling his face against your neck. The smell of his scent mixed with yours, and it filled his senses, making him feel more alive than he had in weeks.
"I love you," he whispered against your skin, his voice hoarse with emotion. "I don't think I could ever love anyone as much as I love you."
Your eyes welled with tears as you let out a choked sob. "I love you Miguel O'hara, more than life itself! Promise you'll stay with me... please?"
Miguel pulled back slightly, his eyes searching yours as he wiped away your tears. "I'll never leave you," he promised, his voice filled with conviction. "I'll always be here, by your side, protecting you and loving you." He leaned in for a gentle kiss, his lips caressing yours softly before pulling back and tucking you in close to his chest. He felt so comfortable holding you like this, and he knew that he never wanted to let you go.
"I'm yours, now and always," he murmured, his eyes closing as he held you close. "Forever."
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dobnny · 2 months
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alright you little shit here is everything i know
mutual
27
american (???)
obsession with carrots
knows how to commit to the bit
clever enough to juggle multiple accounts and not accidentally post from the wrong one
unhinged enough to write dobby as a sexual creature
NOT hagrid's conception story anon (apparently)
my suspect list is growing.... watch your back
My first prompt?!?!
Harry was pacing, in front of his desk, he wanted to laugh but this was no laughing matter. He should’ve known when things had started to change. It all began with that bloody help wanted ad that he posted up a few weeks ago on the Daily Prophet. 
“In need of a House-Elf, will pay and treat with utmost respect and dignity and paid days off along with an hour lunch breaks. Plus, extended paid vacation leave.” Truthfully, all of that was Hermione’s idea. A fellow mutual from the department, who was also dating his best mate. She made him pay for three entire pages on the prophet, or else she would tell Ginny that he had gone with Ron to a Quidditch match without her. To be fair, it was a guys' night, so no matter how much he loves GInny, he wasn’t going to let Ron go alone to the game….he just couldn’t.
Anyways, that's besides the point. Now let's get back to the problem at hand. Or shall he say the problem at… carrot? 
Yeah.
There was a plethora of carrots, scattered around the crime scene. Ranging from tiny and stumpy ones, to carrots that had a bit of a defective look. It was strange, but it wasn’t the craziest thing he’s ever seen during his time in MACUSA. Nope, he has seen some weird shit before, but this….this was just odd and nearing obsession. 
“Who in the bloody fuck, orders so many carrots from the market?” Harry wondered, as he ran his hands through his unruly hair. Shit. Why couldn’t he have seen this coming? The friendship that the house-elf who he used to call a friend….Dobby, had become a serial carrot stealer.
Never in his twenty-seven years did he think that Dobby would be capable of something so heinous. Now that he had the proof, he would talk directly to Robards and get a warrant for Dobby’s arrest. 
Yes, and then all of this nonsense would be over-
”Harry, is everything alright? You sent me an urgent memo,” a voice called out from behind him, causing him to jump a few feet in the air.
“Merlin, Ginny don’t do that you scared the crap out of me.” Harry said as he clutched at his chest. “Yes. I got the proof that Dobby has been the one stealing all the carrots in town.”
“Umm, ok..what do you want me to do about that?” Ginny asked confused.
Silence filled the room for a moment before Harry noticed Ginny’s eyes widen, and quickly she was shaking her head.
“whatever you are thinking get it out of your head Harry. I will not do it!”
“Please, Gin…we need this to finally put Dobby in Azkaban. Think about all the families who are having to cut back on stews and carrot cake all because Dobby stole the carrots from the market.”
“Harry-”
“Ginny, please. I can’t do this without you.” Harry pleaded, this was their only chance to bring down the house-elf.
“Fine.”
“Great! You also have to figure out what the conspiracy about Hagrid’s conception-
“I’m sorry. Hagrid’s what!”
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valeffelees · 1 year
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i didn't think i was going to make a post today, i've been under the weather for a while now 🌧️ and haven't really been making any substantial progress on anything as a result. i've been drawing, mostly. and no shit, i don't think i've spent this much time on my tablet since i was... fuck, sixteen? wild times.
but i dunno, i guess i just missed hanging out and wanted to share a bit of a WIP i talked about very briefly once before in a SSS (🐍) post, an alterous Dev/Niall (and pre-slash Simon/Baz) fanfic with the working title Niall vs the Amatonormative Agenda. i really like this fanfic. it started out as a runaway document where i could shove words when they didn't have anywhere else to go, and slowly turned into a canon compliant coming of age character study that follows Niall's POV exclusively from the Crucible ceremony to the Leavers ball. it's focused entirely on his life, his complicated relationship with Dev, and his friendship with Baz. i dunno if i'll ever post it in its entirety, but it is very near and dear to my heart these days.
[...] with thick, black hair combed around a sharp widow’s peak and droopy, down-turned eyes like a coonhound. He’s panting hard, his whole body heaving as he slumps down into the grass and tries to catch his breath, pressing his shoulders back against one of the beams supporting the underside of the stands. An ivory wand with a leather handle still too-big for his growing hands is clutched in his left fist. “Um,” Niall says. “Shut up!” The boy bares his teeth at him, scowling viciously. “Shut up or I’ll make you shut up, I’ll spell your tongue off!” “Baz!” Niall twists around and peeks through the gaps beneath the benches. Simon Snow is storming across the football pitch, flushed crimson and ripping at the fluffy inch of hair that peeks out below the brim of his boater, sparking along his forearms like a loose wire and steaming with so much magic that Niall starts all but going cross-eyed from it, he can feel it in his throat, acrid and sticky. He cups his palm over his mouth. “Baz!” Simon Snow shouts again, whipping around, his eyes cutting across the Wavering Wood’s gloomy treeline. Ceridwen, he looks like he’s gone mental. (And kind of like he’s about to cry.) “Give it back!” He spins, searching. He doesn’t find them. A noise like the growl of a small, rabid animal pinches from his narrow chest, and then he’s off. Sprinting in the direction of the drawbridge. Niall turns back around. “Baz Pitch?” “Grimm-Pitch,” Baz replies tersely. “You’re Dev’s cousin.” He blinks. “That’s correct.” “I’m their roommate.” Baz looks barely old enough to be at Watford, honestly. He still has one of those squished up little kid faces. His cheeks are puffy and round, his brow is shallow, his chin is short and flat. But he has a tall, straight nose like an adult, so he’s probably going to have a growth spurt sooner rather than later. Drop a layer of baby fat, shoot an inch and a half taller overnight. That’s how it went for Niall, at least. But then again, he’s older than he should be for a first year, he’ll turn thirteen in January before the end of Christmas break. “What have you done to the Chosen One now?” Niall asks, shifting to uncross his legs and stretch them out, moving his Magic Words textbook to lay open on his thighs. Baz settles down next to him, drawing his skinny knees up right to his shoulders with his arms tucked into the space between, flipping his wand back and forth from one hand to the other. His expression is blank—the kind of calculated, intentional blank that children shouldn’t know how to do—but his gaze is keen, almost feral. “Nothing he doesn’t deserve.” “You’re creepy.” “Are you going to tattle on me?” “No,” he says, after what is probably too short a moment of consideration, “I don’t really care. I just want to finish my homework.” “Well, good.” Baz purses his lips, looking Niall up and down with a single quick, deliberate flick of his eyes. (Grey, like a clean riverbank.) “Otherwise I would’ve had to spell you Six ways to Sunday.” “You couldn’t.” “Could too.” “Could not.” “I’m a Pitch.” “You’re eleven.”
thank you very kindly for tagging me today @larkral, @blackberrysummerblog, and @rimeswithpurple, and thank you to everyone who has continued to tag me these last few Sundays and Wednesdays, too. i really do love seeing what y'all are working on. 🙂💕
i hope everyone has a good rest of their week.
remember to drink water, take your vitamins, and rest when you need to. ☀️
Tag, you're it! 🪄 @raenestee @hushed-chorus @thewholelemon @artsyunderstudy @captain-aralias @you-remind-me-of-the-babe @imagineacoolusername @ivelovedhimthroughworse @facewithoutheart @cutestkilla
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xhannahbananax03 · 2 years
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Trouble Part 4
Pairing: Austin!Elvis x Reader
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MASTERLIST
Words: 4k
Warnings: angst
A/N: Reblogs, likes, comments + feedback are extremely appreciated! Please help support your content creators!
A/N 2: this one is kinda an emotional Rollercoaster
Y/n sat on the couch in the Presley's home, wrapped up in a blanket as the shadows from the fire danced across her face.
Her arms were bruised up, but other than that she was fine, besides the worry she felt over Elvis. When she had finally woken up, she was met with the face of Gladys who was looking over her arms, Vernon was there too, sitting in his chair, a glass of whiskey clutched tightly in his hand.
No Elvis, no Colonel. They had all been waiting for about 30 minutes when headlights shone in through the windows and Gladys was quick to jump up and run outside.
Y/n watched quietly as Elvis was pulled from the back of the police car, the Colonel calmly stepping out on the other side before making his way to stand next to Elvis who was currently having his cuffs removed, 'handcuffs are a bit extreme,' Y/n thought to herself.
As soon as his hands were free he wrapped his arms around his mother who held onto him as hard as she could, from where Y/n sat, she could hear the sob Gladys let out when the chief of police handed her a letter.
The officer tipped his hat off to Gladys before giving the Colonel and Elvis a dirty look a with that, he was back in his cruiser and driving away.
Gladys wrapped her arm around Elvis' shoulders and slowly led him back inside, "I couldn't get to her mama," Y/n could faintly hear Elvis speaking to his mother in the foyer.
"Get to who, booby?" She asked softly, leading him into the living room where you and his father sat quietly.
"Y/n-" His words caught in his throat the second he saw you and was quick to rush over to you, leaving his mother with a sullen look on her face, "Oh darlin'," Elvis whispered out, falling to his knees in front of her, gently taking her small hands in his shaky ones.
Noticing the bruises there, tears built up in his eyes as he turned her arms over to see the areas that were littered with splotches of black and blue, "I'm so sorry, satnin," He let out, burying his face in her lap.
Gladys almost cried out when she heard that he had used her term of endearment on another woman. Her son was growing up before her eyes and she feared that with the news she had just recieved coming up soon, she'd lose herself.
"Elvis," Y/n cooed out, grabbing his face and lifting his head up so she could look at him. She could tell that he was holding back his anguish, blaming himself for what had happened to her, "I'm so happy to see you, E.P.," She couldn't help but to smile down at him, her thumbs rubbing soft circles into his cheeks.
He sniffled softly before smiling with her and pulling her hand up to his lips to kiss at her finger tips. For a friendship, what they were sharing now seemed so intimate.
"There's no way my baby's going to Germany for two years," Gladys finally spoke up, looking at the Colonel as she shoved the paper that the chief of police had given to her into his chest.
"What?" Y/n whispered down to Elvis, confused by what his mother had just said and it must've shown on her face because Elvis looked to the ground before standing and looking away from her.
"It is either the army or jail," The Colonel shrugged his shoulders as he moved to take a seat like it was no big deal.
"What?" Y/n spoke up a little louder looking between the Colonel and Elvis.
"The little stunt your boyfriend pulled tonight book him a first class ticket to the military," The Colonel said with a coldness in his tone as he stared out at Elvis who decided to take a seat at his piano. "There is something else," The Colonel directed his attention to Elvis' father, "They are poking into your background Vernon,"
Y/n blocked out the majority of the rest of the conversation, thinking about the news she had just learned. She had just now seen Elvis and now he was getting shipped off? The thought alone made tears spring to her eyes, which she quickly wiped away.
There was talk of the press getting ahold of Vernon's old jail records. People twisting the story to make it sound like Elvis and his family were a bunch of con-man delinquents and then mentions of how the Colonel believed the military could be a fresh start for Elvis' career.
He'd get shipped off for war, fight for his country and come back a well-mannered, respectful, 'All-American' man.
"You do your two years and when you come back, I promise you, I will have done everything I can to make you the biggest actor in Hollywood. You will choose your own pictures," The Colonel assured Elvis and his family. But Y/n was about as far away from assured as a person could get. She supposes this is what she gets for letting herself fall in love. A few more tears fall, which don't go unnoticed by Elvis and he moves to sit next to her and pull her into his arms, whispered sweet-nothings to her about how it was only 2 years and they'd call every night, "I promise, baby," He told her kissing the top of her head.
She couldn't get over how affectionate he was being with her, why must he play with her head like this? She knew he was just trying to be a good friend and ease her mind but in all honesty, his affection was making everything worse.
When Gladys started crying, Y/n almost felt relieved that Elvis made the move to go wrap her in his arms, "Its gonna be OK, mama," He gentle tone just made her sob harder and Y/n finally decided to get up and make her way outside, she needed some air.
A short while later, the front door to the house creaked open and she felt a presence move in next to her, "Its only two years, Y/n," Elvis said quietly, gently trying to reassure her that everything was going to be OK.
She scoffed softly and shook her head a little, looking up to the stars like they'd hold some kind of answer, "I meant it, satnin. We'll call everyday, I'll write to you-" He went to continue giving her all these things to look forward to, but she stopped him with the simple raise of her hand.
"I just got her E.P., I'm just now seeing you after months, and now you must leave me again?" She finally looked at him, dried tear streaks on both of their faces, their eyes bloodshot and she let out a sigh, giving in and leaning her head on his shoulder, "Don't go..."
"I ain't got much of a choice, darlin'," He said sadly, hating to see her in such a state, "You know I'd stay if I could," He told her honestly, leaning his head on the top of hers.
Her hair smelled like roses and he took a deep breath in, wanting to commit that smell to memory. Kissing the top of her head, she slowly looked up at him, somehow telling him with just her eyes that she already missed him.
Elvis couldn't help himself, he softly grabbed her chin and tilted her head back to give her a gentle kiss, a kiss that gave both of them a little spark to the lips, making them jut back and chuckle softly, "Promise me you'll come home?"
"I promise, baby," He nodded his head, leaning forward to kiss her once again, for real this time. His lips parted slightly and his tongue slipped into her mouth, making her let out the faintest moan, but he still caught it. He smirked softly and wrapped his hand around the back of her neck, pulling her as close as he could.
When the need for air became too much and they had to pull back from each other, she rested her forehead against hers, "I love you E.P.," Y/n finally let those three little words slip past her lips.
Elvis stared at her for a moment, making her worry, but then he repeated it back to her, "I love you too, darlin'," and her mind was put back at ease.
They spent the rest of the night in silence, curled into each other's arms as they sat on the porch and watched the stars. Y/n was terrified of losing him, maybe that's why she said what she said, maybe she was scared that if she didn't now she'd never get the chance to. That's how she justified it for herself anyways.
Elvis however had always loved her, he loved her since before he even knew her, he loved her from the very first time he could understand what real love was. Of course he'd never admit that out loud, knowing that it would more than likely scare her away since they had barely spent any time together, but he knew, he knew right from the start that he loved her.
=
Y/n stood quietly in the barber shop the next morning, watching them shave away at Elvis' signature hair, she had to clamp a hand over her mouth to refrain from any protest.
She could see the horror forming in Elvis' eyes as the camera caught shots of him holding clumps of his own hair in his hands, he was being stripped of who he was and Y/n hated baring witness to it, but she had promised him that she wouldn't let him go alone.
Slowly but surely, the press had shoved her out of sight of Elvis, he didn't mind all the attention but he hated the fact that he couldn't see her anymore.
Later that evening, Elvis personally took Y/n back to the airport so she could catch her flight home, "I can't thank you enough for this weekend, E," She smiled at him as they sat in the idling car, trying to hold it together. She placed her hand over his and he entangled his fingers with hers, "The concert was truly magical and despite everything, I had a great time with you,"
Elvis silently brought her hand up to his lips, sweetly kissing the back of it. He was having a hard time with all of this, he hardly wanted to look at her, hardly wanting to speak knowing that it would be the last time for a long time.
Releasing her hand, he reached up and undid the clasp on the gold chain he always wore, letting it drop into his hand as he ran his thumb over the small, diamon crested lightening bolt before he turned completely in his seat to look at her, "I want you to have this," He told her, hold out the dainty but expensive piece of jewelry. It was the first nice thing he had bought for himself after his career started to take off.
"Oh E.P., no, no I couldn't," Y/n blushed him off, pushing it back towards him. She'd accept the chance to come see him, even the bouquets he'd send her, but this was just too much. She couldn't count the time that Elvis had told her how much he loved this piece, he hadn't taken it off since the day he bought it.
"I want ya to," He put it back in her direction and she bit into her lip, staring down at his hand with hesitancy in her eyes, "Please?" He drawled out looking up at her through his lashes and... How was she supposed to say no?
Turning around, she moved her hair from her neck and then looked back at him, "Help me put it on?" She asked sweetly and Elvis smiled brightly for the first time since yesterday.
He hooked it around her neck, securing the clasp before running his finger tips gently down her spine before she turned around to face him, looking down at the small pendent that rested in the valley of her breasts, "Its beautiful Elvis, thank you," She smiled at him, scooting closer to him to give him a hug, "Well I guess this is where we say goodbye," She mumbled out sadly, still holding onto him and his fingers curled into the back of her dress, not wanting to let go as he nuzzled his nose against her neck and left a sweet little kiss there.
"Not goodbye darlin', just a see ya later," He whispered softly against her warm flesh, leaving another kiss there as she gently kissed his jaw.
He heard her sniffle softly before feeling her nodding her head, "Just a see you later," She agreed, squeezing him tightly before letting go, but only scooting back a few inches,"You'll write and call?" She asked, barely holding in her tears.
Elvis nodded his head as he reached forward and tucked a strand of her behind her ear before gently resting his hand on her cheek, "You will too?" He asked quietly to which she nodded as well.
Leaning forward he once again caught her lips in a gentle kiss, there was no tongue this time, no lust, just passion and care leaving her more breathless than any other time he had kissed her.
=
Y/n sat on the plane, tissue in hand as she quickly dabbed away any tear that threatened to fall, her hand resting over the charm on the necklace he had given to her for the entirety of her flight and the minute she got home, she rushed to her room, closing herself in so she could curl up in bed and cry away her sorrows.
Elvis had stayed true to her, writing her often and calling her every night and after a month or so, things got a little easier. She picked up a job at the local newspaper weirdly enough, she was a reporter for the 'Daytona Beach Timez', yes, times with a Z, she figured the company was trying to be unique with that.
A few more months passed and she fell into an easy routine; get up, go to work, get home, call Elvis and then go to bed. Rinse and repeat. It was boring she had to admit, but at least she could still speak to Elvis.
Tonight was no different from any other, however when she picked up the call she knew was coming from Elvis, her greeting was cut off by his soft sobbing, "E.P.? What's wrong?" Panic hit her like a freight train, wondering why he was so upset.
"She's gone Y/n... Mama's gone," He cried out and just like that, her panic had disappeared but her heart sunk all the way into the bottom of her stomach.
She talked to her best friend for the rest of the night, him being granted extra phone time due to his circumstances. He told her that he was going to be coming back home for a week for the funeral and before he even had time to ask, she was up packing her bags.
=
Y/n woke with a start, having yet again another nightmare about Elvis, nightmare had become a regular thing for her ever since he was shipped off, but this one was different from the others, this one ended in Elvis breaking her heart, getting with her only to leave her for someone else.
Shaking off the feelings that hurt her heart, she began to get ready for the day, knowing she flew out in less than an hour from now. She quickly moved downstairs, bag in hand as she made herself a light breakfast. She explained to her mother what had happened and her mom immediately let her go to be with Elvis, telling Y/n to give the family her condolences.
Y/n anxiously waited outside the Memphis Airport once again, and once again the same driver from last time pulled up to meet her. The only differences were that he had brought one of the black Cadillacs and the entire ride to Graceland was spent in a sullen silence.
The minute the car stopped in front of the Presley residence, Y/n was out of the car and flying up the stairs, she hated to see Elvis under these circumstances but she couldn't help it when her heart fluttered at the excitement of getting to see him again after six long months,".
She knocked softly on the front door and waited for a moment when a tired and depressed Vernon answered the door and Y/n gave him a sympathetic look, "I'm so sorry, Vernon," She said softly which caused the broken man to break down even more. Fast, silent tears dripping down his face, his hand moving frantically to try and catch them all at once.
"Elvis, he's uh, he's upstairs in his mother's room. Won't come out," He shrugged his shoulders tiredly and she could tell he hadn't been sleeping since the passing of his wife. Y/n gently squeezed his arm, making him squeeze over her hand before they both let go and she made her way quietly through the house, knowing this was going to be a very rough week.
Y/n found him curled up in his mother's closet, crying into the skirt of one of her dresses, "Oh E.P...." She said softly, moving to sit on her knees in front of her best friend, he looked at herout of the corner of his eyes that were bloodshot and puffy.
She scooted forward and opened her arms for him and within a second he was flying into her hold, violent sobs wracking his entire body. She had never seen him like this and it was definitely the worst thing she had ever seen or heard, his loud sobs broke her heart and eventually she broke down and began to softly cry with him.
She didn't know when it happened but she eventually ended up laying on the floor of Gladys closet, Elvis wrapped in her arms, fitfully sleeping with one of Mrs. Presley's coats draped over him. He hid his face away in her chest, her fingers gently running through his hair and for the remainder of the night they stayed just like that, wrapped up in each other, and she'd have to be lying if she said she didn't like it.
Anytime he woke up throughout the night she quietly hum one of his slower songs to him, brushing his messy hair back until he managed to get back to bed.
The next morning, she was finally able to get Elvis to at least come down for some breakfast that one of the chefs had made for the family. Vernon seemed a little more rested which was good, but as soon as breakfast was finished, both men silently went their separate ways. Vernon heading outside, while Elvis went back to his mother's closet.
Today was the funeral and thankfully Elvis had a team of family friends, including the Colonel, which made you scowl to yourself, setting everything up, but within an hour of the funeral ending, the Colonel had a line of paparazzi waiting outside to get an interview with Elvis.
Y/n was sick to her stomach from this man. A boy had just lost his mother and all th Colonel could think about was getting a show, but Elvis didn't see through any of it and when the Colonel came knocking... Well Elvis answered.
"There are some fine folks from the press waiting outside," The Colonel said softly and if you didn't know any better, you would've thought he actually cared for the mess of a man that was currently crying in Y/n's arms, a bright blue dress kept tight in his grip which he used to hide his face away, "A few questions, pictures and they will leave us alone,"
But Elvis still didn't seem at all prepared to go out there, "Your daddy is doing the best he knows how, but he is overwhelmed," Y/n glared up at the Colonel, using Elvis' dad against him was a low blow, but still, Elvis didn't see through it for even a second.
In Y/n's opinion, the Colonel should've doubled down on security right at the gate, not letting a single pap anywhere near the home, but the Colonel always needed a show.
"He needs your help out there," The Colonel told Elvis which Y/n knew had to be true. Vernon wasn't equipped to deal with the press like Elvis was.
"I can't go out there. I wanna stay here forever," Another cry worked through Elvis and Y/n held him close, kissing the top of his head.
"Oh my boy, no one could ever replace her." The Colonel shook his head and for once, Y/n agreed with him. Gladys was irreplaceable for Elvis, not even Y/n could fill those shoes, "But you listen to me, from this moment on, anything she would've done, I will carry out in her name," Elvis looked up at the Colonel like a lost little boy, and Y/n figured that right about now, he truly was.
"While you are away overseas, I will stay here at home," The Colonel continued one eith his speech, and while Y/n was unsure if the man had ever had any actual care for Elvis and his family, she could see that his words were helping her beloved, "I will work and I will worry. Trust me. Now you go and you stand by your papa. You comfort him. You comfort your friends and your family and even your fans hm? Because if you don't do that, all your mama has sacrificed for you would've been for nothing," Another low blow, but it gave Elvis that little extra push that he needed to get out of this slump and he stood up on shaky legs, bringing Y/n with him as his hand held on tightly to hers and he hugged the Colonel close with his free arm.
"No matter what happens you stay with me, through thick and thin, ok?" And the Colonel nodded his agreement, hugging Elvis back and Y/n found herself feeling grateful that Elvis was receiving whatever it was he felt he was needing, "You're like a... like a father to me," Y/n could see the surprise on the Colonel's face and she knew she must've looked pretty surprised herself.
With a final pat to the back, Elvis stepped out of his mother's closet, pulling Y/n closely beside him as he made his was to the front door, right before he opened it, he stopped and turned to face her, cupping her face in both of his hands and kissing her hard, "Thank you for bein' here honey," He whispered so only she could hear and she nodded her head, holding onto both of his wrists.
"Of course," She whispered back, kissing his wrist once before they both let go of each other and Elvis opened the door and immediately photos were being taken and questions were being asked.
Elvis went to sit next to his dad and hugged onto him, leaning his head into his fathers neck as the Colonel stepped out behind them and Y/n stood in the doorway, leaning against it knowing that if she went to hold Elvis while he cried the media would twist their relationship into something it wasn't.
So she watched from afar with a sore heart as the love of her life wept with his father, mourning the passing of his mother in the only way he knew how; in front of the press.
Tags:
@meladollsims @literally-just-elvis-fics @jessie-williams1 @venus-haze @lov3r0fr0ck @briannaisanxious @galvz-42 @omgellenlouise @flamencodiva @missmaywemeetagain @rosecoloreddesire @knoxvillesshoes @girlblogger2002 @jessicarcates @captured-memory @madilynnk @just-a-dumb-rat @elvispresleyfanpage @perfectlyboring @ewwwyuck @aalishifts @groovydeputyfestivalkid @softballemma @tacozebra051 @dre6ming @austinsrealgf @cherryredheart-blog @lwritesstuff @gjclark19100 @thatonemoviefan @ash-omalley @foxxycurriespice
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amberlide · 6 months
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Chapter 1 - A Midnight encounter
I decided to try and do some self promotion of my main fan-fic, even if I feel genuinely horrible and my anxiety is killing me :/
Paring: Garreth Weasley x Penelope (my OC) Rating: T - no warnings General Tags for the whole fanfic: Stranger - friends - lovers, developing friendship, slow build, slow burn, crossdressing, pretending to be male student, hurt/comfort, pining
Word count: 3700
AO3 link
Summary: In her third year at Hogwarts, Penelope faces the aftermath of a Quidditch accident that destroyed her reputation and love for the sport. The accident has left her needing to conceal her true identity by masquerading as a male student outside school hours. So far everything is fine, until one day a new problem comes: acne. When fifth year Sacharissa promises to help, she doesn’t think twice and accepts to get the Bubotuber pus for her lotion. Everything is ready, while the plants were growing in the greenhouse, Penelope carefully outlined her plan hoping she wouldn’t get caught. Little does she know, a fellow student has their eyes on the same ingredients and their meeting leads to a whirlwind of troubles, crossdressing shenanigans and unexpected alliances.
Penelope darted through the Central Hall, as much as the oversized trousers allowed her. Her heart beat furiously in her chest as she crouched under the imposing fountain in the center of the hall, sliding lightly on the marble floor. 
She lowered the face mask over the sweaty face, catching her shaking breath. She leaned the back against the cold stone and nervously pulled down the hood of her uniform over the eyes, hoping that no one had heard the tapping of her footsteps on the floor or the faint tinkling of the vials in her bag.
Was the silencing charm holding?
She hoped so. 
Luckily Sacharissa has been nice enough to cast the Disillusionment charm on her, since it was a fifth year spell, but the Silencio was her doing and she was not so confident about it.
She had come this far, she couldn't afford any missteps now that she was almost at her destination and had passed both the Entrance Hall and the Viaduct Entrance without any hiccups, moving cautiously and expertly in the night. So she took her wand and cast it again, whispering,  just to be sure.
Suddenly, a flickering light crackled, casting a dancing shadow of the stone-carved unicorn above her on the floor.
The girl swallowed, clutching the bag to her chest, ears strained, heart pounding, immobile, trying to capture any sign of movement around her. She closed her eyes to concentrate better, repeating to herself that there was nothing to fear because the professors and prefects would surely be busy watching over the South wing, where the baptism of the new Crossed Wands members was taking place. Or trying to do so.
Taking a deep breath, she put her mask on and stretched her neck over the edge of the fountain, casting uncertain glances, first toward the door leading outside - the greenhouses, her destination - and then toward the library and the staircase were she was coming from. 
The shadow stood still, most likely, it was one of the torches moved by a gust of wind.
Damn, that castle was made of drafts and nosy ghosts.
Slightly calmer, she was about to decide to get up and resume gliding through the darkness of the hall arches, when she heard voices coming up from the stairs of the Transfiguration Courtyard. Biting her lip, she slipped around the fountain, crawling on all fours, trying to hide from their eyes. Who the hell were they?
She cast a curious glance over the parapet of the fountain, pushing the glasses up the sweat-slick bridge of her nose, trying to discern the figures that were descending the staircase, giggling and whispering.
She instantly recognized the blond curls of Meredith Greyson, the Ravenclaw prefect, and what should have been Newton Third from Gryffindor. There was something between them, and Penelope knew they were on duty in that part of the castle because it was quieter compared to all the commotion in the South part. She just didn't expect them to be so diligent in their task. People sneaking into the night reported them to be quite distracted when they were together.
As if on cue, the two of them stopped on the other side of the fountain and started what seemed like an intense kissing session. Penelope tensed; the sucking noises made her quite uncomfortable, not to mention a bit nauseous. 
Meredith moaned, making her stomach churn. 
What was so romantic about the damn fountain of the Central Hall?
After what seemed like ages, the noises finally stopped and the voices grew quieter as the prefects circled the fountain and moved along the stairs and toward the Viaduct Entrance. Penelope exhaled quietly as a drop of sweat rolled down tickling her back; returning would be a nightmare, but she didn't have time to dwell on it. 
She had to keep moving forward.
As she waited for the figures to be swallowed up by the shadows of the poorly lit corridor - hoping they would not stop to resume their activities - she fumbled with the belt of her trousers, trying to make it tighter so she could run easily. 
Finally, she rose to her feet and darted to the other side of the hall, taking cover behind a column where the lantern's light was dimmer. She waited, holding her breath. When she was confident enough, she quietly moved toward the double door leading to the greenhouse, pushing it open and sliding like a shadow.
As soon as she was outside, the girl lowered the mask once more and inhaled, a gust of fresh air washed over her filling her lungs: for late September the air was brisk and chiller than expected.
Clutching herself in the cloak, she pushed forward, her paces were muffled now by the fallen leaves of the giant tree at the center of the greenhouse courtyard; her favorite place ever. 
With a bitter taste of blood still lingering in her mouth from the frantic run, Penelope hurried down the double staircase, pondering whether she should light her wand. 
Now that she was outside the castle, would it be safe enough? 
She cast a worried glance behind her at the heavy oak door. Something told her it would be better not to play with her luck, she had enough light for now from the glistering glasses of the building ahead. 
She pressed on, determined. It wasn't until she reached the entrance of greenhouse number three that she allowed herself a moment to rest. "Here we are," she thought, "finally." 
"Alohomora"
The door groaned open with a slow, eerie creak, and Penelope wasted no time in stepping inside. Instantly, her senses were overwhelmed by the familiar blend of scents - dragon fertilizer, damp soil, dry leaves of weird and fascinating plants and the unmistakable odor of Bubotuber pus. With a quick, practiced motion, she pulled her mask up to shield herself from the pungent smell and illuminated her wand.
As the thin beam of light pierced the darkness, it revealed two rows of sturdy counters neatly lined with potted plants on top. 
Penelope's eyes darted around, taking in the scene and adjusting to the dark: in one corner, she noticed a stack of empty pots, several bags of fertilizer, and a scattering of gardening tools. 
A slow satisfied smile opened her lips. She did it! Undetected! A rush of adrenaline filled her making her dizzy with anticipation.
She still couldn't believe it, but her mission was only halfway done… so she straightened her back and approached the nearest counter. It didn't take long for her to spot the telltale signs – some of the pots had been shifted, and a few plants had clearly been squeezed, their tubers oozing pus in mephitic rivulets. 
It was evident that some unfortunate students had endured a rather unpleasant detention that afternoon. By the look of the Bubotubers, they had no idea what they were doing.
She shook her head in disappointment, setting her bag on a stool with a jingle. Then she lowered her hood and recoiled her short hair, remembering with a wistful sigh why she had cut it so short, then set her wand nearby so that it lit the workbench. 
Time to get some work done! 
The girl swiftly pulled out some vials from the bag she had carefully prepared that afternoon along with a copper funnel, some small pins, and finally her beloved dragonskin gloves. She tucked them in by tamping the sleeves of her cloak into the edge so that the pus could not run down her arms. Then carefully took one of the pins. 
If Sacharissa needed that pus she would get it. Hopefully the lotion would work this time, as she was growing quite impatient with all her failed experiments on her skin.
She moved one of the pots closer, squinting her eyes in the dim light as she inspected the tubers. They weren't quite ripe yet, but she didn't have a choice. This was the only available night, and it would have to do for her.
Carefully, she took one of the most mature blobs at the top in her hand and pinched it with the pin in different parts, applying pressure little by little while rolling it. Yellowish pus gushed from the small wounds in rivulets. The smell that wafted from it was almost unbearable, but she had to persist. 
This lotion would help her throughout the year. Not that she didn't enjoy wearing her mask to cover her face during classes or while sitting in the library, especially with the cold weather approaching and everyone coughing around her. But the sight of her face, horribly disfigured by reddish pimples, made her skin crawl.
She didn't want her body to ruin an already awful year.
With great care, she tilted the funnel against the bulb, allowing the pus to flow into the vial. 
The first one was almost full.
"I'm sorry, Professor Garlick," she thought with an half smile, "you shouldn't have taught me so well." 
She moved on to the second vial.
As she was about to fill up the third one, she heard a shifting noise. She froze.
"Merlin's beard. You're good." 
Penelope jerked, emitting a surprised little cry. She turned sharply, and the vial she held nearly slipped from her hand, slimy from the overflowing pus. With her heart pounding in her throat, she prepared to face the dark figure that was silently advancing in front of her.
She immediately assumed it might be a prefect or a professor, but instead of shouting, the figure was carefully approaching. She didn't dare to take her wand.
Instead, she widened her eyes, trying to make out their shape; they were not indeed a professor, but rather a student like her.
The Disillusionment charm broke as the figure entered the circle of light, and she reflexively took a small step back hitting a stool with her leg, scared. Her voice gone.
She noticed a tall, sturdy figure, cloaked in dark attire, with something reddish and gold sparkling at the edges. A Gryffindor?
"I didn't mean to startle you, sorry."
The voice was one of a boy, a rather mature one, maybe a fifth or a sixth year?
He came forward with his hands in the air as a sign of peace, and a strand of red hair came into view, illuminated by her wand's light; a vibrant red. Her heart leaped for a moment, could it be... but the hair quickly revealed itself to be too long to belong to Leander Prewett, so long that it flowed in small curls around the boy's neck. She noticed freckles on his face, and although she couldn't see his eyes clearly, she somehow knew their color. They were green, with a hint of gold at the rim. Everyone knew the eyes of one of the quirkiest and most humorous guys at Hogwarts.
Garreth Weasley.
She noticed his eyes traveling over her figure, judging her appearance: her too long and misfits trousers, cinched by a torn belt, the oversized jumper under the cloak and the too short messy hair. They stopped on her masked face, the other half covered with glasses.
Even though she had only been using the disguise for ten days, she had grown accustomed to the way others looked at her, so she maintained her composure and confidence, waiting for the other to speak.
"I was here, and I heard you entering the greenhouse. I thought you were Garlick. Then you started to get all that pus as if it was nothing. While I…" 
Garreth raised the hem of his shirt, showing his wrinkled and blistered skin. 
"It's horrible. Luckily, I had some…" He didn't finish his sentence as Penelope let out a pained cry.
Distracted by his talking, she didn't notice that some of the pus that stained her right glove had flowed down, soaking into her uniform and onto her forearm. She winced and cried out in pain, trying to muffle her noises. Tears started to form in her eyes, while her skin was on fire.
"Damn," she murmured, attempting to avoid gazing at the boils forming on her arm for too long, while taking out the gloves and tossing them aside. Her stomach churned and twisted. 
"I should still have some Murtlap essence," began Garreth rummaging in his shoulder bag. However, when he finally found what he was looking for, amid half-empty vials and crinkled, scribbled scraps of parchment, he realized that all his bottles were empty.
"Sorry, I must have used all of them without noticing," he tried to justify himself with an apologetic expression noticing the ragged breath and the moans of pain of the other.
"It doesn't matter," Penelope replied curtly, already loosing her patience, "I… have…" she grabbed her bag, trying not to let it fall, and opened it with her good hand, she hastily started to pull out the few things she had put inside, including a Wiggenweld Potion. 
She didn't have time to place it on the counter before Garreth had already stepped forward to take it.
"Open it, and give it to me. Quick." She urged him with tears in her eyes as her arm was swelling and stiffening under her cloak.
She extended her hand, but nothing happened. She turned around, surprised and a little annoyed, as the pain began to make her feel nauseous. Garreth was looking at the potion with a strange expression on his face.
"Give it to me!" 
"I… can't." 
"What?" Penelope couldn't believe her hears. What the hell was wrong with him?
"First..." he shook the bottle in the dim light, and something greenish and powdery swirled inside. "This is not a Wiggenweld. You didn't chop the dittany leaves properly. By its color, it seems you forgot the Horklump juice, and..." He carefully opened the bottle and took a whiff of its contents, wrinkling his nose in disgust. "There is way too much salamander blood in it. Way too much," he commented raising his eyebrows.
Really? Was he really giving her a full-fledged potion lesson in that desperate moment?
"Just give it to me," she breathed, exasperated. "Please." 
But her plead didn't work as expected.
"I can't. I don't know what it'll do to you." "Let's pretend it is one of your concoctions, okay? I just want it!" She groaned impatiently, starting to be overwhelmed by the stinging pain in her harm. 
She didn't want to faint, for the love of Merlin she could not afford to faint!
"Evanesco." 
She stared at him with wide, shocked eyes. "You didn't..."
"I did. That Wiggy was just rubbish, and since I need to take you to the infirmary anyway, it's better to go there without food poisoning. Plus… Wiggenweld does nothing for Bubotuber pus."
"I know…" She didn't have the strength to argue. She was not supposed to get injured by the pus if not for his interruption. That was her last resort.
"So, let's go." He moved towards her, cleaning her tools with a swift movement of his wand, pushing them into her bag, and taking it with him.
Penelope didn't move, not even when he took a few steps towards the entrance with her bag hanging over his shoulder. In her stupor, she blinked, her mind questioning Weasley's sanity.
She knew he was a peculiar guy, but… did the fumes of all his weird potions finally got the best of him?
"C'mon, it's late already," he urged, trying to push her.
"I'm not coming with you. Actually…" She gritted her teeth, "I'm not going to the infirmary. At all." She underlined the last words with a painful groan. Now she couldn't even bend her arm; when she tried, it felt like thousands of pins were prickling her skin and it looked like tree bark.
"Okay, little one, it's not time for tantrums," Garreth said, moving towards her with a resolute look on his face. "I'm not leaving you here to get caught."
"And going to the infirmary will not…?"
She couldn't afford to be punished or to lose points for the house. She was already an outcast; there was no need to make this year even more awful than the previous one. She would be scared if she weren't in such agony.
Garreth sighed. 
"There's the Crossed Wands baptism tonight, we both know it, otherwise we wouldn't be here. The infirmary will already be quite full," he tried to convince her with an impatient look, casting a glance at her injured arm. 
He couldn't afford to leave him like this, and he felt a pang of guilt knowing it was his fault.
"Come on, I've got your back, man!" He sent a quirky look her way, his eyes glistening, while he took her wand and placed it in her hand. Then he grabbed her left arm, the good one, and urged her to follow him while she dimmed its light.
Man?
Penelope didn't have the strength to resist his urgent pull. The rush of adrenaline from her trip had already disappeared, leaving her strained and at the mercy of the boy.
He was right. How could she manage with an arm like that? She would end up in the infirmary eventually. It was better to let Mrs. Blainey believe she was injured in battle instead of caught stealing.
They rushed up the stairs, then Garreth stopped abruptly, and Penelope crashed against his broad back almost falling backwards. A soft moan escaped her mouth as the hem of her cloak brushed against her injured skin. 
He prepared his wand and twirled it above his head, rendering himself invisible, a mere shadow in the night against the greenhouse glass. Then he turned toward her, "I guess you don't know the Disillusionment charm," he murmured biting his lower lip. 
She shook her head and for a moment she saw a glint of surprise in his eyes.
"How did you manage to get here?"
Penelope opened her mouth to reply, but then she decided not to answer, she simply shrugged too amused to pass the opportunity to let him think she was some sort of special night creature. 
Sacharissa wouldn't tell him for sure.
But her ruse ended shortly as she felt a tap on her head, a sensation like a cracked egg dripping yolk started to flow from the point of contact making her shiver in discomfort.
"Here we are," he whispered with a satisfied half-smile before dragging her again and opening the door. She wanted to ask how he managed to get into the greenhouse without opening the door and what he was going to do with the Bubotuber pus, but she couldn't care less in that moment. All she felt was the searing pain in her arm and the warmth of Garreth's big hand on the other. 
She didn't know why it felt so comforting in the chilly night, for sure it was nice to follow someone who seemed to know what he was doing.
So she let him guide her into the castle.
They moved quietly and quickly, crouching against the stone walls and sliding along corridors, trying not to wake up the figures in the paintings as they darted across the marble floors. They had a moment of panic when they found Meredith and Newton near the Entrance Hall, so they decided to stop for a moment, catching their breath, and waiting for the two of them to start kissing again so they could sneak past their backs unnoticed. 
When they reached the Hospital Wing, they finally stopped. 
"Here we are," Garreth whispered, panting lightly. Penelope tried to catch her breath and grabbed the bag he was offering her. She moved toward a vase in one of the corners and slowly tucked it inside. She felt the boy's gaze on her back.
"That's smart," he agreed, and he was about to add something when they heard footsteps approaching rapidly. Garreth made an involuntary step toward Penelope, as if trying to hide her with his figure.
"Garreth, is that you?" The Disillusionment charm broke once again, revealing both of them to a third person.
"Leander, yes, it's me," Garreth replied with a relieved tone recognizing the voice. 
"How did it go? Did you get what you needed?"
Leander stopped in his tracks, assessing the small figure next to his friend. "Oh, I hope what you were looking for wasn't him."
"Of course not!" 
Penelope couldn't believe her ears. They had really mistaken her for a boy!
She wasn't sure if she should correct them; they would probably treat her like the rest of the students. So, she remained silent despite the pain in her arm, unable to take her eyes off Leander, blushing under his judging gaze.
"I met him in the greenhouse. How was the duel?" Garreth continued, moving toward his friend.
Leander tilted his head and shrugged. "It was okay. We moved around quite a bit trying to find a suitable place. The misdirection didn't work; the prefects were onto us. A few injuries, but nothing major, probably a couple of suspensions..."
"Yes, but did your pupil win?" Garreth felt his friend tense. "No, Sallow's got the best..."
He stopped; someone was coming once again.
"Okay, we need to go!" Garreth pushed Penelope toward the door leading to the Hospital Wing, while Leander was already on his way to the corridor leading to the Gryffindor tower.
She opened the door, reluctant to go, but her arm was stiff and so swollen it was almost tearing her jumper's seam.
She didn't have a choice. Again. 
"Oh well, here we are. Another one. I wonder what happened to you!" Ms. Blainey looked at her arm with a condescending expression.
Penelope tried to explain, but her mouth was dry, and she blurted out some nonsense before collapsing on the bed. She didn't have the strength to return to the Hufflepuff dormitory. In a few minutes, her arm was back to its normal size, despite some ugly marks that wrinkled her skin. According to the nurse, they should heal overnight.
She took off her shoes and cloak, together with her mask and glasses, then she laid on the bed, facing the corridor while trying to ignore the presence of the other few students around her. 
Then she saw it—a bulky shadow passing through the slightly open door.
Of course, he had to check if she had gone to the infirmary.
Irritated, she yawned, turned and closed her eyes, hoping she wouldn't get punished this time.
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kitchenisking · 1 year
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March Fic Rec
Guys it's still Sunday! Anyway, March is here witch mean spring is here! As much as I love the winter I also love watching the twas and flowers bloom. That everyone has a great month!
between the click of the light and the start of the dream by thepsychicclam - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 105192, sterek)
A twig snaps, and then Stiles hears breathing and the rustle of leaves. He strains to get a better glimpse into the darkness, but it’s pointless. There’s nothing but a black void.
It's Stiles' senior year, and he's trying to concentrate on normal things - like the lacrosse championship, spring break, prom, graduation (and definitely not Derek) - when he starts having nightmares and waking up in the middle of nowhere. Oh yeah, and he's being haunted by a hag. Great.
This Might Be Irony by thepsychicclam - (Rating: Mature, Words: 38340, sterek)
Stiles and Derek have been close friends since the Hale siblings moved in next door after their parents' death. But Derek's in the popular group, he's a star baseball player, and he dates popular Pep Squad captain Jennifer Blake. Stiles doesn't have any of that, just his skateboard and a hopeless crush on Derek (oh yeah, and his Vote Lydia Martin Prom Queen button). As prom and the baseball state championship grow closer, Stiles and Derek start rekindling their friendship.
And it all begins with two white boards.
Didn't See That Coming by knittersrevolt - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 83838, sterek)
Stiles leaves Beacon Hills in the dust after he catches his husband cheating on him. 
He finds his way to New York where he starts working for the Hale House Nursery, accidentally adopts a werewolf baby (through no fault of his own thank-you-very-much), and somehow starts training to be an Exorcist Emissary. So, in general, life was going good.
Then he hears that demons have found their way into his hometown. Can he face his inner demons and go back to save the day?
Wolves with a Spark by AMatchInWater - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 58089, sterek)
Talia lets out a shocked gasp, "your eyes. They're purple." The Alpha is practically oozing with excitement. Stiles hisses, as the fingers touching the Nemeton start to sting as markings etch themselves into his knuckles and a small one on his wrist that looks like a Y but the stem goes up between the v part. "What the-?" Stiles yells out in pain, yanking his hand off the bark, the back of his left forearm feeling like it's been set on fire. A white fox with vibrant blue eyes burns into his flesh. "Mom?" He asks again, she died when he was young, but the Omega remembers what she looked like fully shifted. The spitting image of the tattoo forming on his skin. "What's happening?" Frantic eyes meet Talia's and Derek's. "You're a spark." Talia whispers in wonder. "You have magic, Stiles." 
OR
Stiles moves in with the Hales after his father passes away. Presenting as an Omega and then a spark years later. He's hopelessly head over heels for Derek and wants to be his mate, but it almost certain the Alpha doesn't feel the same way about him so he says nothing and pines from a distance. Talia asks if Stiles would like to train to be an emissary to the Hale pack and Stiles agrees.
Accidental Amnesiac Mates Acquisition (ft. a baby) by redhoodedwolf - (Rating: T, Words: 24549, sterek)
“Who are you?”
He snapped his head around and clutched the child tighter to his chest. But then his senses caught up with him: Pack, mate, family, safe, calm, anxiety, panic, panic, panic
“I don’t know,” he admitted. “Who are you?”
The man with the warm brown eyes gaped at him in surprise. “Um. I don’t know.”
The baby in his arms promptly burst into tears.
*
What it says on the tin.
Bleeding Love by BisexualInDisguise - (Rating: T, Words: 6919, sterek)
Stiles promised himself that the werewolves didn't smell the depression and desperation wafting off of him because they were simply distracted, not because they couldn't care less. He told himself that he's just good at hiding it.
Stiles was trying so damn hard. 
But he's broken so many promises to himself.
----
Scott's a bad friend and Derek's a fluff ball
I found you hidden in plain sight (why'd I take so long?) by Gorgeousgreymatter - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 25419, sterek)
Stiles is pretty sure he’s hallucinating. He’s got to be. There’s no other plausible explanation, he thinks, as he sits on the sidelines of the lacrosse field and feels the cold, hard bench underneath him, the roar of the crowd at his back like the worst white noise machine in the world.
There’s no other reason why he sees it, the hulking, black figure of a wolf peering at him from the treeline behind the bleachers. Its eyes flare in the glaring glow of the stadium lights, but they’re the wrong color, he thinks: blood-moon red instead of cobalt blue, but the familiarity of it all makes his stomach roll and clench.
Til We Ain't Strangers Anymore byWriteByNight - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 35994, sterek)
Stiles should've expected Derek to suddenly disappear since the werewolf was in the habit of taking off without notice. However, Derek always showed up when they needed him.
As the weeks pass by, Stiles is no longer confused and a little hurt. What started as heartache begins to get worse the longer Stiles goes without seeing Derek. Eventually, his body begins to shut down and his only hope seems to be Derek...but nobody can find him.
There's no cure for a broken heart. Except, maybe, the cause for the broken heart himself.
- - -
Or the one where Derek takes off without warning and Stiles finds out he could be Derek's mate and the distance between Derek and Stiles, along with Derek's refusal to develop the bond, is slowly killing Stiles. Without Derek, Stiles will die, but no one knows where he is or how to contact him. And Stiles is barely keeping it together.
Synonyms for Longing by wanderingeyre  - (Rating: T, Words: 11386, sterek)
Derek has been at his house for less than two days and Stiles is deeply regretting his decision to offer Derek a place to stay. Well, it was more like he didn’t try to throw Derek back out the window when he creeped in two nights ago, but he would have made a valiant effort if he’d known what a pain in the ass Derek would be. 
Suddenly you're standing still by gottalovev - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 7669, sterek)
A long time ago, Stiles promised his mom that he'd never cross the Hale property lines. He has kept his word even if there hasn't been a Hale in Beacon Hills for years, not since the fire. But suddenly Scott gets turned into a werewolf, Derek Hale is back, and Stiles has to share his biggest secret. (AU set in S1+ where Stiles is a born werefox)
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nuttersinc · 1 year
Text
(FIC): A Hundred Years then
(excerpt from chapter 7, In which Hob gains an unlikely drinking buddy, Hob's berber carpet is in dire need of a dry-cleaning and Dream is a pathetic coward):
”I destroy what I love,” Dream rasps, and it feels like storm clouds are gathering over their heads, as if the night around them grows even darker, despite all the lights illuminating Hob’s sitting room. ”Everyone I’ve ever loved has met a terrible fate,” he says darkly, ominously, and he turns his face aside, for once the first to look away. There’s so much pain in the stubborn clench of his square jaw that Hob feels his heart breaking.
With his heart beating madly in his chest, Hob reaches out. “Then don’t love me,” he whispers.
Dream flinches like a startled horse and turns back to him, his eyes wild pinpricks with swirling nebulae at the centre. ”What…” he growls, his posture tense, not unlike the one time he refused Hob’s friendship, ”...what are you suggesting?”
“Give me whatever you can. Take whatever you want,” Hob breathes, knowing he sounds desperate and possibly a little insane. His stomach is churning wildly with nerves. In front of him, Dream looks inhuman, wild hair and strange eyes, and Hob is reminded that Dream is eons old, that he’s been here forever, long before Hob was born and that he will be here until the end of the universe.
Dream stares at him, aghast for once, and there’s something brewing in him, rising to the surface, something dangerous. Hob squares his jaw bravely, ready for whatever Dream will haul at him.
In the end, it is Dream himself; Dream who shoves him up against the bookshelves and clutches his face between his strong hands, knocking the breath out of Hob.
“”I will ruin you,” Dream says, breathing the words closely against Hob’s skin, and it’s both a warning and a plea for Hob to put an end to this.
You already have, Hob thinks, but his mouth is too dry and his brain too overwhelmed to say it out loud. He licks his lips, his body otherwise frozen, like a startled deer, waiting.
”I will ruin you and leave you in pieces.” Dream murmurs, distraught and dead serious, his fingers digging into Hob’s cheekbones.
“Yes,” Hob whimpers, pleading for it. He doesn’t care. 
*-*
Go and read it if you like:  Dream’s existential angst and Hob’s eternal devotion,  idiots to lovers, a side of FwB, lots of pining, sex full of feels, bamf!Hob, sidekick!Johanna Constantine and a fishbowl rescue.
I’m currently finishing up the penultimate chapter and I’m kind of enjoying the character arc A LOT.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/42013197
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srose-foxfire · 2 years
Text
Innocence ~ Damirae Week 2022 (2)
Day # 2 – Not Today, Never Tomorrow (Jealousy)
~ “I hope that it would stay,” ~
~~~~~~~~~~~
“That’s Malchior Rorek, they been dating before we finished our sophomore year.”
Jon explained as he and Damian watched from across the school’s cafeteria as  Raven and her boyfriend Malchior were eating their lunch, laughing amongst themselves. Each time Damian watched her face glow with happiness, her smiles growing wider each time, he felt a sharp pain struck his chest each time. Being ever so discreet, Damian would hold his chest tight, not wanting to show any emotion.
Damian had known, he had known that Raven was seeing someone because… she had been the one to tell him before she told her family. Raven trusted him so much that she came to him when she started dating. At first Damian didn’t know how to react or what to say over their video call, but he managed to keep his face unfazed and slowly smiled saying he was glad that she found someone.
Looking away from the happy couple Damian focused on his lunch and took miniscule bites, loosing appetite within seconds. Damian grimaced as he felt his stomach lurch forward and his throat burn. He pushed the food away and took out his sketchbook from his backpack. He started scribbling lines not knowing what to draw but even, so it comforted him. He liked to read, to train with his katana, and watch old films. Damian never thought he would enjoy drawing or creating art pieces, but that changed once when Raven had mentioned how much she liked a drawing he had whipped up while playing a drawing game. After that Damian practiced and manifested this new skill, gaining him more admiration from Raven as he would draw and paint her many pieces.
Raven made him feel worthy, that he didn’t need money or anything to let his feelings show, his art could do just that. Unfortunately, his art never could show just how much he loved Raven or she would have known how he felt for her. Or perhaps she did know but didn’t know how to turn him down.
Damian looked from his book and glanced at Raven as she laughed at whatever Malchior had said to her. What if she knew and she was dating someone to let Damian down easily? Could they not be more than just friends? Or did she see him just like as another brother? He closed his eyes shut and shook his head to the sides frantically wanting these thoughts to leave him. Raven was kind and a gentle spirit, she wouldn’t try and get under his skin to hurt him, no, it was his wishful thinking they could be anything more than just friends.
Ring.
“Lunch is over, let’s hurry to our class, Dames.” Jon said as he helped picked up Damian’s lunch tray and throw out their trash.
Damian zipped up his bag and grabbed his sketchbook, following Jon out of the cafeteria, catching one last glimpse of Raven giving her boyfriend a quick kiss before they exited different ways. He sighed heavily and walked right behind Jon looking down at the ground as a feeling a pain, regret, and anger wanted to take hold of his heart.
“You okay man?”
Damian raised his eyes but kept his face pointed down, “yeah it’s… it’s nothing.”
“You can come to me for anything, you know, that right?”
“Thank you, Jon, you’re a good friend.”
“Ha-ha, no problem my dude. We got each other’s backs.”
Damian slowly smiled and bumps shoulders with Jon as they speed walked to their next class. Friendship. Next to his family, the friendship he had created with the very few people he could trust was his most prized procession. They were the ones that matter most to him as he was a distant person by nature. Made him clutch his sketchbook closer, as he thought. He may not have Raven’s love, but they were friends; good friends, and that will be enough even for him.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
“Mr. Wayne. I’m glad you could grace us with your presence, but we do things differently here than the Academy, I expect all of my students to arrive on time even if it’s the last class for the day.”
“I apologize Ms. Fresha, I was let out pretty late from my previous class.”
“I will have a word then in the teacher’s faculty meeting but that’s no excuse to come five minutes late, you know how I value our class time, what is our saying class?”
“To be on schedule, the show will fare well!”
All twenty students chimed together as they recited the class motto created by Misha Fresha, their theatre teacher. Raven waved at Damian as she had saved him his usual spot in the back of the class. He quickly past the rows of desks before putting his things down and taking our his notebook to start taking notes for the class. Raven slipped her own notebook to show him any notes he missed earlier, Damian smiled and nodded before making sure to leave room to add her notes later when they get home.
Home.
Damian still couldn’t believe he was living with her and her family. Clark, Louis, Jon, and even their oldest son, Connor. Besides Connor, everyone made Damian feel welcome and at home. A word Damian thought he could never really connect to other than the manor. But he was and his heart hurt even more knowing that someday he would have to share this family with…with Malchior.
The idea of seeing him mingling with everyone during holiday dinners, being always next to Raven made his blood boil just beneath his skin. These thoughts made his head throb with anger and Damian clenched his pencil too tight almost at the brink of breaking. Raven must of noticed his turmoil as she simply placed her hand over his and smiled at him. That smile. Only reserved for him, it was gentle and loving, making Damian feel at ease. Her smile always made the world around him simply fade away and in that brief moment they were the only ones existing in this plain.
Damian returned her gesture with a single faint smile before getting back to taking notes for their class. Their last period went strangely fast, Ms. Fresha made the class somewhat enjoyable and manage to get all twenty students to participate in short skits before everyone. Some done in pairs and others done singles. Both Damian and Raven had to do theirs solo, but being their own cheer squad, they both helped each other pull through. As the bell rang one last time signifying that student body was all dismissed for the day, everyone got up and exited the classroom.
Raven stayed closed to Damian as they both exited together and walked towards the school’s main entrance.
“I’m going to meet Malchior at the exit, you and Jon can go ahead of me. I  already let my mom know I will be arriving around dinner time.”
“Oh, alright. Then I will wait for Jon near the entrance.”
“I noticed you been distant for a while now… what’s on your mind?”
Damian didn’t know what to tell her. That he felt jealous that he saw her with that Malchior person? No, he said to himself he wouldn’t feel bother for her sake, for her feelings. It was selfish of him to believe Raven would remain his forever. His heart beat furiously deep within his chest, he didn’t want to ask but part of him needed to know.
“So, you love him?”
“He’s very good to me Damian, I’m happy.” Raven answered softly lost in thought, clearly reminiscing the times they spent together. “Oh, he’s waiting for me. See you guys at the house later!”
Damian stood at the entrance of the school with his hands in his pockets. He watched as Raven ran towards Malchior as he stood beneath a tree. Malchior smiled at Raven before placing a single peck on Raven’s cheek, grabbing her bag and grabbing her hand as they walked the opposite direction leading her probably to some café or anywhere where Damian wouldn’t be.
“Yo Damie! You ready to head home?” Jon asked as he had lightly punched Damian’s shoulder.
The young Wayne could only offer his friend a light smile as he only nodded and the two descended the stairs taking the road that lead to the Kent’s home. As they walked in silence, Damian could feel he was leaving a part of him behind, the part that wanted to spend every waking moment next with… her.
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I ran the whole text through a translator. please excuse the mistakes. my english is bad It was almost midnight by the clock, but none of them were going to bed. This time, Harry did not remind Tom about the downed mode and that tomorrow he would again look like one of his endoskeletons without recharging.
Sipping, Harry bit down a little on a steel beer can, feeling a strange characteristic taste from the material. He looked up at the habitually thoughtful Riddle. Harry was already finishing the second one, and Tom, constantly lost in his thoughts, had barely started the first one.
Harry's chest tightened at the feeling of the gulf continuing to grow between them, even though he understood that he was forcing such thoughts on himself. The guy finally wanted certainty in their... relationship? But I didn't have the courage to ask Tom about it. Despite many years of friendship, Potter had very little idea of Tom's opinion about the relationship above friendship. They had enough "incidents" loudly hinting at more, but, again, it wasn't that simple with Tom.
No one could have endured such uncertainty. Except Harry.
The guy's lips reflexively twitched in a grimace. But even realizing his pity , he…
— ...more is needed...
— What? — Harry blinked a couple of times, looked at him. Tom habitually mumbled over his own thoughts and Potter could not delve into his brilliant ideas – he wouldn't have understood anyway – but this time the question came out of his lips faster. — What are you talking about, Tom?
It didn't look like Riddle was paying attention to his question. His gaze was distant, and his free hand sometimes twitched, gesticulating in the air, explaining something intricately.
—The remnant,— he replied. Tom's dark gaze rested on Harry's eyes and his whole appearance screamed that he was talking about the most obvious. — With the necessary supply of remnants, I can create an obedient organism. But I do not know what amount of residue is needed for a person, — after that, Tom looked too upset.
His shoulders slumped, his gaze now looked away.
Harry, as expected, did not understand anything at all. It was the first time he had heard Tom talk about some kind of residue and also... an obedient organism? Potter snorted. No. They'd better go to bed.
He took the beer from Riddle's hands and put it on the table instead of his own. Tom watched this with a frown.
— Come on, genius. Your brain needs to rest,— Harry, getting up, pulled the guy by the hands and he easily succumbed to him, allowing him to lead him to the bedroom.
— What do you think? — The unexpected question stumped Harry. He clutched Tom's pajamas in his hands, remembering what he might mean.
Riddle was sitting on the bed and looking at him with that incomprehensible look that always scared and confused, and supported the stereotype Harry had heard about mad geniuses.
— You know that I don't understand anything about this, — he sounded careless when he gave the clothes to a friend. Harry paused, wondering if he was sleeping in the living room today or staying with Tom. — And this is the first time I've heard you talk about the remainder? I have no idea what it is.
Potter stood near the door, screaming inwardly and hoping that Tom would let him sleep with him like yesterday. But Riddle's thoughts were wandering again somewhere far away. His appraising gaze slid over Harry, settling on his face.
—Yes... you don't know,— Tom said to himself and smiled at his own thoughts.
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abookishdreamer · 1 year
Text
Character Intro: Dyssebeia (Kingdom of Ichor)
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Nicknames- The Untouchable Goddess by the people of Olympius
Bess by the others
Bessie by Hybris
Age- 40 (immortal)
Location- Little Sparta, New Olympus
Personality- She has little respect or reverance for authority or anything deemed "normal" & conventional. She lives by her rules and is unapologetically herself. She's pansexual and is currently single.
She has the the standards abilities of a goddess except shapeshifting. As the goddess of ungodliness & impiety her other powers/abilities include anti energy manipulation, electric field negation, molecular combustion, phasing (is able to pass through solid objects/materials), & energy absorption through touch (can temporarily absorb another deity's abilities, personality, memories, and physical traits).
Her immediate family includes her father Kydoimos (god of uproar & battlefield confusion) and her younger brother Koros (god of surfeit & disdain).
Bess lives in a high rise loft apartment in the Little Sparta neighborhood of New Olympus. There are a few metal furniture pieces with the color scheme being in shades of gray, burgundy, red, and black. Several of her own sculptural pieces (made from fire glass) are scattered throughout her loft. There are pets- some spiders & tarantulas as well as a dragon- a giant red and bronze scaled beast known as "Xuvra the Cannibal." It's rumored that she has devoured other dragons half her size in addition to tearing other ones into pieces as well as snacking on clutches of eggs! It took almost twenty years for Xuvra & Bess to finally be bonded.
She's well known for her hard to miss physical appearance- her thick arched tattooed eyebrows, her many tattoos & piercings (including a split tongue), her curvaceous body (and bountiful chest), & her long vibrant dark scarlet red hair.
Favorite drinks for her include bloody marys, rum & cokes, mulled wine, negronis, and red sangrias. She also likes the strawberry milkshakes from The Frozen Spoon. Her usuals from The Roasted Bean are the large iced coffee, an olympian sized dark chocolate mocha, and a medium cranberry-dragonfruit splash.
Bess wears a pair of specialized gloves (designed & crafted by Hephaestus) when she's in contact with deities and people which counteracts her energy absorbtion ability.
She generally gets a bad rep among the general public (because of her domain and opinions) & her peers in the pantheon. Her induction ceremony had the lowest number of attendees. Bess often laughs at the fervor a lot of the people have when it comes to the gods, the temples, and offerings. Her op-ed piece in The Oracle and her appearance on The Agnostic Network certaintly didn't help with the general favorability. She does have a slow growing fan base on Fatestagram, calling her supporters her "chaotics."
Her favorite make-up products include the Olmorfia gel nail polish in "Midnight Drive", a dark blue-black color & the Olmorfia gel eyeliner in "Ruby Ballroom", a bright metallic red color.
In the panheon Bess' best friend is Hybris (goddess of insolence, hubris, & reckless pride). They often go riding on dragonback together and she'll stay over at Hybris' place in Themiscyra. Philotes (goddess of sex, friendship, & affection) and Kéfi (goddess of mirth) are friendly towards her as well. Bess is also close friends with Kakia (goddess of vice & moral wrongdoing), Psionikós (god of the mind), Adikia (goddess of injustice & wrongdoing), Lethe (Titaness of forgetfulness, oblivion, & concealment), Perses (Titan god of destruction), Ichnaea (goddess of tracking), Palioxis (goddess of backrush & retreat), Enyo (goddess of war, destruction, bloodlust, & devastation), Ioke (goddess of pursuit, tumult, & battle rout), Asteria (Titaness of falling stars, astrology, magic, necromancy, & nocturnal oracles and prophecies), Palaestra (goddess of wrestling), Alastor (god of blood feuds & vengeance), Proioxis (goddess of attack, onrush, & battlefield pursuit), Apate (goddess of fraud & deception), and Aplistos (god of avarice). She's the godmother to Dysnomia (goddess of anarchy & lawlessness). Bess dislikes Eusebeia (Bea) (goddess of piety, loyalty, duty, & filial respect), The Litae, Aeschyne (goddess of modesty & honor), and Pistis (goddess of trust, reliability, & good faith).
As for her love life, she has slept with Philotes and her husband Priapus (god of fertility, vegetable gardens, livestock, sexuality, & masculinity) a few times. Her last fling was with Menoetius (Titan god of rage, violence, & rash actions). She's currently chatting with a maenad and satyr on a dating app.
Her favorite desserts are the red velvet cake, fudge lava cake, & cinnamon rolls from Hollyhock's Bakery.
Bess' go-to hair product is the Glory's Crown cinnamon hair oil.
Her usual from The Bread Box is the sriracha barbeque pulled pork sandwich with a small black bean & quinoa soup.
Her income comes from endorsing Plutopack, modeling for Apokomména Nímata (The Moirai's fashion brand), and being a part of the wrestling entertainment- her stage name being The Bloody Baroness. A popular match for her was the tag team event with her & Hybris versus Antiope and Penthesilea (who are Amazons). She surprisingly has her own glamour doll collectible!
A favorite splurge for her was a pair of red latex platform boots from atelier fantaisie! The best three hundred drachmas ever spent!
Once when Bess accidentally absorbed some of Zeus' energy and abilities, she spent the majority of her day on Xuvra shooting lightning bolts in the sky till one strong bolt struck & destroyed a huge chunk of his temple in the state of Elis. She prefers to call that "a happy accident."
Some of her favorite meals include fried calamari (with spicy squid ink dipping sauce), cucumber rolls, brisket with sweet & sour onions, cabbage coleslaw soup, and a white rice-kielbasa skillet!
In her free time Bess enjoys riding on dragonback, mountain climbing, tantric yoga, charcoal drawing, ink painting, clubbing, axe throwing, sword fighting, & lava surfing.
"When I kneel it's not before a god."
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mrs-bartowski · 3 years
Text
Brace for impact y'all cuz my brain is being Extra Rude this fine Sunday. OKAY, so...
What with Lena's new unemployment status, obviously we have all these hcs about her being unable to afford the penthouse and moving in with Kara.
Then of course we have all the accompanying hcs about Lena's time in the apartment between now and when Kara gets back (blanket sniffing, inability to sleep in Kara's bed, ready-to-pack corner of belongings so as to not alter Kara's home, and all those other super fun things that make me wanna cry).
I see all of those (and love them) and I raise you one: the Mxy tapes.
So, we see right after Mxy leaves when Kara picks up "The One Where Lena Decided To Work With Lex" which is what, in combination with her realization that telling Lena the truth always has "huge" consequences, motivates her to make that super OOC decision to absolve herself entirely of her guilt and tell Lena she'll treat her like a villain if she works with Lex, yes?
Now, what if that wasn't the only tape Mxy left behind? What if he left a recording of each of those alternate timelines because, after seeing Kara twist what she learned to fit her frustration over Lena's continued cold shoulder and hearing what she said to Lena, Mxy decided she might want to watch them again at some point to remember the real takeaway: she's fighting for the relationship that saves the world...
Kara found the tapes stacked on the coffee table when she got home, with a note that said "You found the magic. Now don't lose it." She wanted to get angry, but instead she just put the tapes in a box on the shelf under the TV and tried to forget about them.
----------
Lena's hand shakes slightly as she slides the key into the lock, feeling the ghost of Alex’s hand rest gently on her shoulder as it had when she’d pressed the cold metal into her palm a few hours earlier with a silent offer and an encouraging nod. The door swings open slowly, and Lena is hit by a sudden wave of cold. Not temperature, but energy. It’s too quiet - no NSYNC on the speaker or Bachelorette on the TV. It’s too empty - no smell of fresh (slightly burnt) bread or yarn strewn all over the counter from Kara’s various crochet projects. It’s too...Kara-less.
Lena shakes off the feeling and slides her bag off her shoulder in the corner by the bookcase, careful not to knock Kara’s favorite cinnamon candle off the stool beside her, as she tells Alexa to play Nina Simone. She zips open her bag to pull out her favorite copy of Mrs. Dalloway and finds it missing. Realizing she must have left it in her desk drawer at LexCorp, Lena makes a mental note to send Brainy in after it tomorrow with the promise that he can change all of Lex’s passwords one more time before they leave the game for good.
Lena stares at the blank TV screen for a moment, dreading the thought of watching anything in this room without Kara’s head on her shoulder or in her lap. So, she crouches to look at the shelves of the TV stand, hoping to find at least one of the books she’d gotten Kara for her birthday last year wedged between the latest issues of CatCo Magazine and the recipe books Alex had gotten her in the hopes of spending less money on pot stickers every week.
She’s just zeroed in on The Color Purple when she notices a box she doesn’t recognize laying across the tops of the books on the other shelf. She reaches for it on instinct, then hesitates. She hasn’t touched anything of Kara’s since their falling out, and what if Kara’s “what’s mine is yours” rule no longer applies to her now? She considers leaving it alone and waiting for Kara to get back and explain, sliding The Color Purple toward her without taking her eyes off the box, before her curiosity gets the better of her and she caves, tossing the book onto the coffee table.
She opens the lid and starts at the sight of VHS tapes. Hasn't she taught Kara better than this? They'd converted all her old tapes to DVDs months into their friendship ("Kara, these things deteriorate so easily and the picture quality becomes awful, don't you want something that will last?"). She picks up the first tape and reads the label on the side: "The One Where Lena Doesn't Make It Back In Time." Her brows furrow as she stares, unblinking, at the title - demanding answers she knows only one person can give her.
She glances around, but doesn't see a VHS player anywhere, so she sets the tape on the floor beside her and picks up the next one. "The One Where Lena Can't Save Sam Or Herself." Lena shoves down her growing horror and discards the tape, hoping the next one will be less ominous. She picks it up and chokes back a sob as she reads: "The One Where There Are No Survivors."
Lena can't wait for answers anymore, so she gathers the tapes back into the box, grabs her purse and Kara's key, and heads to the closest library. Lena finds the old CRT sitting on a rolling cart in the back corner of the library, tucked between the stacks of kids' books. She pulls the first tape out of the box and slides it carefully into the slot.
30 minutes later, with tears and too-cheap eyeliner streaming down her face, Lena picks up the last tape. "The One Where Lena Was Never Your Friend." And here she'd thought things couldn't get worse. Lena takes a deep breath as she inserts the tape.
At the sight of the ruin that meets Kara and Mxy, Lena stifles the urge to laugh. Of course this is what a world without her best friend looks like. This exactly how it feels now, and she's only been gone a few weeks.
Lena's breath catches as she hears herself ask "who's Kara?," the mere thought of a world where the reporter had never believed in her, never cared enough to love her, almost too much to bear. Her hand drifts absent-mindedly to her chest as she watches herself reveal a kryptonite heart, and for a moment she can hear the sounds of her own screams as her mother's experiments rob her of the last of her humanity.
She presses her hand closer to her heart, sure that it's stopped beating at the sight of Kara on the ground, in pain at her hands but still refusing to fight her. Feels it shatter when her worst self says exactly the same words she'd said to Kara in the Fortress when asked why she had pretended to be Kara's friend for so long.
And she thinks it might kill her, this agony that's filling her body like acid. She wonders for a moment if this is what kryptonite feels like to Kara. Because it sure feels like her skin is getting seared off her bones and there are nails in her blood and it sure seems like she won't survive watching herself kill her best friend as she lies helpless and desperate on the floor.
And when Mxy pulls them out, Lena's breath returns full force until she's hyperventilating because Kara is gone and she doesn't know how long it will be until they get her back; and she was terrified of what she'd become when she lost Jack but she survived because of Kara; and if this is what losing Kara without ever having her in the first place looks like, Lena has never been more afraid than she is as she realizes what will happen to the world if she doesn't get Kara back. What she'll do to the world if it dares to take Kara from her.
So, when she gathers the tapes and goes to return them to the box and finds a note at the bottom that says "You found the magic. Now don't lose it," Lena promises herself that, for as long as she lives, she will do everything in her power to keep the magic that is Kara Danvers in her life.
----------
Alex knocks on the apartment door three days later and finds it unlocked. She pushes the door open and her hand drifts to her gun, but relaxes as she sees Lena's sleeping form curled up on the couch. Alex approaches a box she knows the contents of all too well and finds it open and empty on the table before she notices the VCR player and tapes strewn across the floor. She smiles softly as she recalls the image of Kara in the exact same position months earlier. And, as she carefully plucks the handwritten note from Lena's clutched fist, she smiles at the knowledge that, once Kara returns, no force in the world will be able to keep them apart again.
UPDATE: Ask and ye shall receive
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
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