#quick birthday sketch for my favourite birthday bois

[diana-bluewolf]

MC profile

Some info about my MC Chris Mongrel. Profile is under the cut.

Name: Chris Mongrel

House: Slytherin

Birthday: 24th November

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Demisexual, demiromantic

Nationality: British

Residence: Oxford, Oxfordshire, England

Wand: Black Walnut Wood, Phoenix feather, 12 ½" Length, Rigid flexibility

Patronus: Dingo

PERSONALITY

MBTI: INTP

Enneagram: 5w4 sx/sp

Four temperaments: Phlegmatic-melancholic

Strengths:

logic

creativeness

resourcefulness

resilience

quick-thinking

he can be a good listener if he wants

loyalty

he can notice patterns in close people’s behaviour and figure out when they are not okay by small changes in it

Weaknesses:

disconnection and tendency to get easily lost in thoughts

low self-worth

adrenaline addictiveness

absolute recklessness regarding his safety

prone to self-isolation and melancholy

trust issues

insensitive at times, especially when he’s absorbed in a new project/puzzle

Hobbies:

drawing (he likes to do sketches of anything he finds fascinating)

experimenting with magic, whether forbidden for students or not (though he avoids Dark Magic), enchanting muggle artefacts (like making a fountain pen with everlasting ink, a self-sharpening pencil or a notebook with extension charm)

Amortentia (what he smells like to others):

cedar wood (smell of pencil shaving) due to his habit of making notes and sketches, and he finds muggle stuff more convenient for it

forest and fresh air (as a result of frequent flying and exploring Forbidden Forest)

wiggenweld potion (a side effect of being adrenaline addictive)

Favourite subjects:

Charms

Transfiguration

Study of Ancient Runes

Defense Against Dark Arts

Least favourite subjects:

Care for Magical Creatures (how can you deal with something that is, with rare exceptions, as far from being logical as it gets?) 

Herbology (it’s just boring)

History of Magic (nothing wrong with history itself, but, gosh, professor Binns’ lessons are such a waste of time! You can read everything you need to know in a book much faster)

Divination

When you are an adrenaline addictive introverted bookworm.

Childhood:

"Mongrel" isn't his real surname. When he was 11, Chris discovered himself at the doorway to a muggle charity school, a typical so-called bluecoat school in those times where orphans and kids from poor families lived and got educated (if they were lucky to get a place there). He didn't remember how he ended up there, how he got the fresh scar on his face, where he had lived before, who his parents were, not even his surname. 

A local boy passing by mentioned to Chris that weird kids with mental problems would never be accepted to any school, where there's not enough space even for "normal" children and the best place for them is living on the streets or in workhouses. Chris didn't know if it was true but decided not to reveal to anyone that he didn't remember anything, just in case. 

The school's headmaster, a man with a strange, absent-minded expression (he was under the Imperius Curse), expected the new student to arrive that day. When Chris was asked his full name, he made up his surname promptly, saying the first word that crossed his mind. It was from the phrase the boy had told him, "Y'know, nobody wanna deal with mental mongrels like you."

A bit later, Chris realised that some snippets of his childhood were still tucked away in his memory: the precious and warm moments with his father, a muggle professor at Oxford University. Nevertheless, Chris didn't remember his name or what had happened to him. 

Some facts:

★He struggles with insomnia and nightmares, especially the repetitive ones about an unfamiliar (or not?) boy with milky eyes. The dragon attack was, of course, a shocking experience for Chris, but when he first entered the Slytherin common room, he was even more stunned to meet a person who resembled the constant participant of his nightmares, though 5-6 years older.

★They didn't get along at first. Or, more precisely, Ominis was hostile towards the new fifth-year. So even when he had to mention Chris to Sebastian, for example, he called him anything but by name. He could say "that walking magnet for troubles", "your accomplice", "your new best friend" (with some extent of sarcasm in his voice) or "the neophyte". It took Ominis some time before he addressed Chris by name for the first time.

★Before Hogwarts, Chris had never participated in magic duels. In fact, he didn’t even know that magic existed, being very sceptical about it. But anyway, he had to hone his reflexes in the frequent scuffles at the charity school, full of boys with behaviour problems.

★No matter the weather, he often feels cold, which makes him favour sweaters. Like most of his belongings, his clothes are quite shabby due to his extreme lifestyle and orphanhood. Besides, even when he earns some money running errands for other people, from potions delivery to eliminating trolls, buying new clothes is his least priority. 

★Having all the extra assignments and schoolwork to catch up on, he always tries to push himself to the limit, sometimes neglecting to sleep. Due to his low self-worth, he feels he must do the maximum to prove to himself that he matters like others. He’s either the best or nothing. He doesn’t value his life at all, which, together with adrenaline addiction, makes risking it daily easier. 

★He can forget to sleep but tries not to miss meal times as he was often hungry in the charity school. Not a picky eater. 

★When he's nervous, he uses humour as a defence mechanism. While sometimes it helps to relieve difficult situations, it can also be not appropriate at all. 

★He can easily break the rules if he doesn't see any sense in it or if the pros might outweigh the cons. 

★He has claustrophobia.

★The Sorting Hat doubted whether to place him in Slytherin or Ravenclaw.

★He isn't the type of person who says "I love you." often, but even if he does, it may sound like, 

"I think I love you." 

"You…think?" 

"Well, all the symptoms confirm the diagnosis". 

★He was never good at emotions and feelings, mostly "postponing" them to process later and pulling on an overconfident mask. Still, the irony is that he was chosen by a black walnut wand, which doesn't like when its master practises any form of self-deception and misbehaves when it happens, which in the case of Chris' lifestyle can be fatal. So, he had to learn how to manage his feelings promptly, primarily by trial and error.

★Though he rarely shows emotion or affection, it doesn’t mean he isn’t capable of it, but it takes him much time to open up to someone.

★After school he plans to work as a Curse-Breaker or a researcher in St Mungo’s Hospital, focusing on ancient magic and its impact on dark curses.

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy oc #hogwarts legacy male mc #oc profile #chris mongrel

[bite-sized-devil]

Hi Saadie! Congrats on 500+ Followers!

Here's my info for the matchup! ^^

Star Sign : (November) Scorpio Age : 18 Height : 5'3 Identity : Female; She/Her MBTI : INFJ-T Occupational : (tired) College Student Favorite Things : I like books (mostly fantasy), action movies, musicals, my computer (lol), any type of music, anime, flowers such as azaleas and roses, milk chocolate, birthday cards my sister makes for me and butterscotch ice cream What I do in my spare time : Read books or fics, play piano, watch gamers on YouTube and sometimes sketch random objects out of boredom What I look for in a partner : Passionate, loyalty, overall great sense of humor, kindness, funny (my humor be broken haha) and honesty! Favorite Obey Me Character(s) : Mammon, Leviathan, Satan Belphegor and Barbatos Appearance : I am a South Asian person who has olive-peach skin but not so pale looking either. I have a really small mole on the left side of my cheek. I have short black hair, light brown eyes, pretty big eyelashes and am pretty much average in height (or short- not sure how much 5'3 is classified in some countries lol). I have small dark circles under my eyes which can't be distinguished since I wear glasses which somewhat covers them up.

I hope this is enough! If you need, I can DM you a picture of my appearance! ^^

( -@amberrskiies )

🌻 500 Followers Bite Sized Event 🌻

Hello cutie! I'm sorry this took a little while, I'm trying to go in order of who sent in first. I originally wanted to give each submission all of what I promised all at the same time but uhhhh.... That would take way to long 😂 and so I'm just releasing the match ups first then I'll do the fics/script fics if I haven't already written them. Oh also nightbringer distracted me a buuuunch! So sorry!!

Mostly SFW, slightly suggestive. 💕

Match up:

Satan Avatar of Wrath

May I offer scrunky furious cat boy to you? He's very passionate, funny, loyal and honest! I think he'd be quite taken with you, you love to read and play the piano what a charming little thing you are 💕 He'd love to help you study for your exams, you'll reward him with kisses won't you?

Head canons for you two:

This mother fucker actually asked you out mid screaming match with Lucifer. Or well actually you think that's what happened? You remember "MC GOOD YOU'RE HERE I WANT TO TAKE YOU TO DINNER! THAT IS AS SOON AS IM FINISHED WITH THIS ARSEHOLE RIGHT HERE!" So now you're in your room at HOL dressed and ready but starting to think maybe you heard wrong? Your brain doesn't really function properly during screaming matches, even ones you aren't involved in. So you're sitting on your bed considering changing before anyone notices you're all dressed up. Fuck that would be so embarrassing! But you hear a knock on the door, just one simple but sharp knock. It has you up off your bed in seconds racing to the door nearly as fast as the beat your heart is setting. You open the door and find him there waiting. He gives you a warm smile and takes your small hands in his. "Your beauty flaws me MC, truly you are something to behold. I want to apologise for my rudeness earlier, I'm not sorry I asked you to dinner. Just how I went about it."

How cute is it when you read together. 🥰 Your head resting on one of his legs reading your lastest fantasy novel. The fingers of his free hand comb through your short black locks absentmindedly. His other hand holds his book against the thigh of his raised knee. It's mostly comfortable, until he gets to an intense part and the fingers in your hair are no longer combing but sharply pulling as his hand gets turned into a fist. He's quick to pull you into his arms and smother you in sweet kisses in-between sorry's when he hears you utter a quiet 'ouch'.

If you weren't a member of the anti-lucifer club you are now. Pranking just became a favourite pastime for you both. If anything Lucifer is thankful as you tend to do childish pranks now instead of murderous ones.

Can he help you study? Please, he'll be good! He won't distract you! Say you'll let him help you, he'd love to. Honestly he'll only kiss you a little bit, promise they will only be as rewards for correct answers and not because you look so cute when you're concentrating. Oh no, was that a paper cut? He'll kiss it better, he'll kiss it better at your wrist, up your arm, along your collar bone, over your pulse point, along your jaw, over your lips with his tongue down your throat. Wait where did it hurt again? You can't remember, everything feels hazy. No pain, or study, only Satan.

It is now your life's mission to find a horror movie that actually scares Satan. Unfortunately you haven't found one yet, it's not however unfortunate for Satan. He loves watching horror movies with you, loves the way you tuck yourself in close to his side almost half hidden from the screen. Thinks it's so cute the way you jump and squeal a little at jump scares. Once you actually jumped into his lap, he kept you there the entire rest of the film just holding you close. So yeah he definitely likes watching them with you.

Will absolutely loose his shit if you dress up as a kitty. He's a blushing, stuttering mess! He's so fucking into you, and then you do this? His brain isn't working, not enough blood reaching it... It's circulating elsewhere. 😳

No offence to Satan or whatever but can you do me a favour and teach him how to dress himself properly? This might shock him a little but when you wear a coat you usually use both of the sleeves 😂 also stop with the hats! Again respectfully no offence 🙏

When you're together he always has to have a hand on you. It's more of a starved for affection thing rather than possessive. He really can't seem to get enough of you. It's his hand in yours, or at the small of your back, or wrapped around you. Or if he's feeling naughty grabbing your ass.

If you wanted more NSFW content I'm sorry! I felt kinda weird writing it for an 18yo like I'm some sort of predator! I'm like 10 years older then you, it gave me some icky feelings. So I'm sorry! 😔😔

#saadie's 500 followers event 🌻 #obey me matchups #saadie's requests 🌻 #obey me! #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me fandom #om! #om! shall we date #obey me mc #om! mc #om! satan #obey me! satan #obey me satan #obey me satan x mc #satan x mc

[sproutmole-supremacy]

I posted 205 times in 2022

That's 205 more posts than 2021!

25 posts created (12%)

180 posts reblogged (88%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@some-mari-thoughts

@ksenya-and-the-artistic-cucumber

@oyasumicloseyoureyes

@winters-sketches

@mozzaremi

I tagged 161 of my posts in 2022

Only 21% of my posts had no tags

#omori - 15 posts

#sprout draws - 15 posts

#omori kel - 15 posts

#omori basil - 12 posts

#sprout talks - 12 posts

#cactiflower - 10 posts

#oh my god - 6 posts

#sprout thinks (for once) - 6 posts

#kel x basil - 5 posts

#omori mari - 5 posts

Longest Tag: 126 characters

#i find the idea of calling it eclipse (which sounds kinda dark and gloomy in a way???) just because sunnys not there kinda sad

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Quick and dirty Cactiflower for (late) Halloween!!!! I am now obsessed with the idea of Witchy Omori andjdjwisjsiw i just want to draw cute people in witch outfits

48 notes - Posted November 2, 2022

#4

Here is the BIRTHDAY BOY!!!!!

I’m so sorry for my favourite boy’s day whdisnsksjajsj but yea!!!!

63 notes - Posted November 16, 2022

#3

Collection of Cactiflower doodles I’ve been working on!!! I think they’re so adorable together

67 notes - Posted October 22, 2022

#2

See the full post

68 notes - Posted October 6, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I might be stating the blindingly obvious here but:

If this entry was in September, then Mari must have died in October, probably a little later than that. You know whose birthday would have come directly after?

Kel, who was born on 11th November.

Kel, whose older brother was so severely depressed that he probably didn’t have the energy to wish him a happy birthday, forget attending a birthday party

Kel, whose two best friends were so overwhelmed by guilt that they locked themselves away

Kel, whose other friend cut herself off from the group because she already thought they weren’t mourning Mari hard enough

Which means that Kel probably spent his 12th birthday all by himself.

See the full post

1,007 notes - Posted October 8, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Oh my God it’s so funny that my most popular post is the most depressing one, I’m wheezing

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #sprout talks

[leanmois]

on the way to their birthdayparty

#10/10 #gintama #leanmois #beatles #abbey road #mob psycho 100 #naruto #haikyuu #reigen arataka #nishinoya yu #quick birthday sketch for my favourite birthday bois #crossover

[marvelatthetwilight]

Not Just a Crush

A/N: This is pre-wolf, pre-possible imprinting. Just some straight from the heart fluff.

“Just tell her you’re in love with her” Embry nudged Quil out of his daydream as he looked at you across the cafeteria.

You were oblivious, talking with your friends, eating your lunch. Quil didn’t know you harboured your own secret feelings too. You hadn’t told anyone, having convinced yourself that he was like that with everyone, he was just a nice guy, he was just being friendly with you. That’s just the kind of guy Quil was. His kindness and friendship It’s just a crush. You tell yourself over and over.

“You know I can’t do that.” Quil turns away to roll his eyes at Embry.

“But why? Why can’t you just tell her you like her at least?” Embry nudges Quil in his seat as he sneaks another glance at you, sighing as he turns away again.

“It’s just a crush Embry. I’ll get over it” now it was Embry’s turn to roll his eyes.

“I don’t think it’s just a crush if you’ve been pining over someone for two years Quil, but you keep telling yourself that!” Embry laughs at this, drawing your attention from across the room.

At that moment you look at Quil, watching his face carefully, the way his eyes crinkle as he smiles, the way one side of his smile is always bigger, a slight dimple pushing through his cheek. It’s just a crush you say to yourself again as you draw a deep breath to try and steady your heartbeat.

As you head to your seat in art you glance around in search of Quil’s famous curly locks. You see him facing away from you, in deep conversation with Jacob and Embry. You catch Embry’s eye and he winks, whilst seeming to push Quil gently in your direction.

You frown but think nothing of it, taking your seat and removing your sketch pad from your bag, placing it neatly on the table in front of you.

You tap your pencil on the desk as you stare out of the window at the trees moving with the wind.

“Erm hi Y/N”

Turning away from the window, you look up to see Quil, awkwardly smiling at you.

“Can I sit here?” He gestures to the empty seat next to you.

Your face flushes as you nod quickly. “Don’t you usually sit with Jacob and Embry?” Glancing back to said boys at the back of the room, they give you both the thumbs up before Quil sticks his finger up at them and turning back to you.

“I wanted to sit with you today.” He beams his gorgeous smile at you, and your face flushes pink again.

“You’re so sweet. How are you? I feel like we’ve barely spoken this week.” You smile as you glance at him sideways and notice is face flush.

“Erm...yeah, it’s been manic with school and helping out my grandfather with some stuff...how have you been, what are your plans for the weekend?”

You debate telling him the truth about your plans, only your closest friends knew it was your birthday, a secret you always liked to keep out of school.

“Just hanging out with my dad, he normally takes me out for dinner for my birthday but money is a bit tight so we are just going to have a movie night.” You breeze over it quickly and Quil doesn’t seem to pick up on what you’ve said.

“Oh I love movie nights, I do one with the guys every Friday. Maybe you’d be up for joining us one time?” Quil’s face flushes again as he asks.

“I would love to!” You say a little too enthusiastically. “I mean, yeah, that would be nice.”

Quil goes to speak again just as your teacher Mr Aldea enters and claps, prompting the class to be quiet.

“Quil, back to your normal seat.”

He gives you a quick smile as he heads back to Embry and Jacob, who are whispering questions to him as he gets closer.

You don’t pay much attention to the lesson for the next hour, instead letting your mind wander with daydreams about movie nights with Quil...

The following week you were heading to your seat in science when you noticed a gift wrapped box at your desk. It was wrapped in beautiful purple paper, your favourite colour, with a neat gold bow twisted on top. Who was this from?

You look around the room trying to catch someone’s eye in the hope of working out the secret gift giver but you had no luck.

Sitting down at your desk you carefully unwrap the bow and remove the wrapping paper. Peeling back the paper you reveal a DVD of your favourite film, a pack of your favourite sweets and a small bag of popcorn. Everything you would need for a movie night. You look up from your desk towards the door to catch a glimpse of your favourite curly hair as he runs away down the hall. Is it just a crush?

As the bell rings for the end of school you make your way out to your car, clutching your gifts in your hand.

When you reach your car you see a note held underneath your wiper blade.

Movie night at my house, tonight, 7pm. Bring your gifts with you. Quil x

Your heart flutters as you read the note. Maybe it’s not just a crush. You smile to yourself, glancing around, looking for his face, before climbing into your car, mentally preparing yourself for this evening.

At 7pm on the dot you pull up outside Quil’s house. You grab the DVD and the treats from the passenger seat, but before you have a chance to reach for the handle, Quil is at the door, holding it open for you.

He smiles his adorable smile, holding his arm out for you to take as you step out the car.

“Did you like your gifts?” He questions, his cheeks flushing slightly.

“I love them, you are so sneaky, how did you know where I sit?” You laugh as he walks you up the steps to his front door.

He gestures for me to sit on the sofa as he disappears, before returning with a small bunch of flowers.

“I may or may not have bribed your teacher with food.” He whispers theatrically, and I laugh out loud, taking the flowers from him as he offers them, sniffing and admiring them as Quil disappears again.

It’s not just a crush.

In the kitchen Quil is arranging a plate of what he hopes are your favourite snacks.

“Y/N I think I love you. No. That’s stupid. Erm. Y/N, I think your beautiful and I love you. No. Still not good enough.” He mutters to himself as he moves the food around on the plate.

He takes a deep breath.

“Y/N, from the moment I met you I have been in love with you. Your beautiful smile, the way that your eyes sparkle, the way you laugh, the way you care, the kindness you show. Everything about you is beautiful and I love you. I love you, I love you, I love...you.” Quil turns as he speaks, plate in hand, ready to declare his love, only to find you standing in the doorway, your mouth open in shock, and the plate drops to the floor.

Definitely not just a crush.

You smile at him before glancing down at the mess on the floor, amongst the shattered pieces of plate you can make out some of your favourite foods.

“I love you too y’no.” Quil’s eyebrows shoot up, before he carefully steps over the broken pieces of plate and he cups your face with his hand, gently placing a kiss to your lips.

Taglist:

@fatiguing-thoughts @clearwater-hoe @volturidoll13 @teampaul @raindancer2004 @wallwriterstuff @awesomebooklover17 @cncogirl18 @megzdoodle @evakipara @moviequeen51

#twilight #twilight imagines #twilight x reader #quil ateara #quil ateara imagine #quil ateara x reader

[smoochkooks]

—chapter two: of peonies and broken promises

this is a part of my an ode to a broken heart drabble series.

pairing: jeon jungkook/reader

genre: unrequited love, best friends to (?), heavy angst, future smut

word count: 1.4k words

summary: you are twenty-four, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous, just like it did eleven years ago.

previous || next 

Jungkook's apartment is an epitome of him.

Wherever you look, you spot a piece of him. A single, wooden shelf in the living room where he placed all his analog cameras, because he loves photography. The replica of Van Gogh's Starry night hanging just above the navy blue couch, because he loves art. White walls of his bedroom decorated with movie posters; among them the newest addition to the collection: French Parasite poster you remember him buying recently. He traded stupid amount of money for it and you'd scold him for doing so if you didn’t know how much he enjoys cinematography.

Staring at this back as he makes coffee, you almost forget why you came her in first place. It's trivial: the latest software update on your laptop made it work more sluggish for some unknown to you reason. Jungkook has always been good with technology (hence his degree in digital art), helping you fix things on your laptop whenever the issue isn’t too complicated for him to deal with it on his own.

You feel a little embarrassed, asking him for help again (as if he wasn’t installing a new antivirus software for you a few weeks ago) but Jungkook beat you to it, assuring you it was absolutely fine before you could recite a round of apologies upon entering his apartment.  

It’s just the way he is – the kindest, most selfless person you have ever met. Helping others seems to be etched into his brain for good.

“Here you go,” he says, placing a cup coffee in front of you. “I still haven’t quite figured out how the coffee machine works so I hope it doesn’t taste like shit.”  

You smile, wrapping your fingers around the cup. Jungkook is a tea person, something he most definitely took after his mother, who has a separate cabinet in the kitchen filled with various kinds of tea. That’s why it’s so funny to you that somehow he insisted on buying a ridiculously expensive coffee machine a few months ago when he moved into his new apartment.  

You wish you could focus on the delicate scent of his blueberry tea. You wish you could let yourself be overwhelmed by the aroma of your freshly made coffee. Anything.  

Instead, all you can process is the intense, nauseous smell of the peonies standing right before you.  

They’re definitely new, wrapped up prettily and ready to be gifted to someone special. Jungkook notices your lingering gaze, and clears his throat.  

“Soojin's coming later today. They’re her favourite.”  

He didn’t need to give any explanation to you. It’s his life, his girlfriend, his plans, her favourite flowers, her perfect boyfriend. You’re just you. Yet for some unknown to you reason, he felt and urge to mention it anyway.

“I didn’t peg you for the gentleman type.” you say to break the awkward silence. It’s anything but true, so Jungkook snorts in response.

“Aish, I always give you a single red rose for your birthday, Valentine’s Day and Women's day as well! And we know each other for eighteen years!” he reasons, somewhat defensive.  

You force yourself to grin. “I know, I know. I was just fucking with you,” He huffs and takes a sip of his tea. As soon as he does that, he regrets it, muttering “Shit, it’s hot.” under his breath. “Soojin's lucky to have you.” you add.

Despite coming off as a confident person on daily basis, Jungkook gets insecure too.  

You remember vividly the look in his eyes when he told you he didn’t deserve her. It was right at the beginning of their relationship, they were still getting to know each other and Jungkook couldn’t possibly understand why out of all the boys Soojin could date, she had chosen him. A digital art major who liked talking about cinematography and ate ramen at 2am in the morning when he couldn’t sleep.  

Back then, you wished he could see himself with your eyes. For you, he was far more attractive than any guy you saw on campus. For you, he was talented, hardworking, passionate. No doubt Soojin fell for him.  

But Jungkook was twenty-one back then. He lacked self-assurance he has now. It irritated you that he viewed Soojin as some sort of goddess who took pity on him.  Although a lot has changed since, he still could quite literally kiss the ground she walks on.  

You watch as a small tingle of blush covers the apples of his cheeks. Pink, just like the peonies standing before you. Pink, just like the flowers you hate so much.  

11 years ago

June was beautiful that year. You spent most of your time after school in Jungkook's garden, seated by the wooden table and doing your homework.  

His mother besides tea, loved planting flowers. And June was the month of peonies. There was so many of them, invading your senses with their sweet yet nauseous smell.  

Jungkook was scribbling something in his notebook. You doubted it was anything Math-related, judging by the quick and harsh strokes of his pen. ‘’Do you know Sana?” he asked out of the blue, startling you.  

“That new girl from Japan? What about her?”  

“Jimin says she has a crush on me.” he answered, his eyes still glued to the paper. You noticed he was sketching some anime character's angry face.

Your eyes involuntarily widened. “How does Jimin know that?”  

“Dunno. He told me he heard some girls talking about it in cafeteria the other day.” Finally, he dropped his pen and looked up. His brows were furrowed and he had a sour look on his face. “I don’t want her to have a crush on me.”  

At that, your heart started beating faster. You were just fourteen and yet already so stupidly in love with your best friend. “Why?” you asked before you could stop yourself.  

You knew girls were checking out Jungkook here and there. He was a top athlete, had good grades and had grown at least ten centimeters taller over the year. He also had let his mother (and you) convince him to cut his hair shorter lately, getting rid of the emo fringe he was sporting for the past six months. Of course some pretty girl like Sana would have a crush on him.  

Somehow, Jungkook had always been oblivious to that, or at least you thought so. This was the first time he decided to talk to you about it.  

He sighed, looking away from you as if he was embarrassed all of a sudden. You could swear you saw his cheeks flush. “Because I don’t even like her. You’re the only girl I can stand being with.”  

Now it was your turn to blush. As best as you could, you tried to ignore the funny, giddy feeling in your chest. “You know you'll have to marry some girl one day, right?”  

“Then I’ll ask you to marry me,” Jungkook said and for the first time since he had started this conversation, he actually looked you in the eye. When he saw your shocked expression, he mumbled, “Maybe in like… ten years or something. Once we are out of college.”  

You snorted, nudging his side. Despite the butterflies fluttering in your stomach, you regained your composure. “Do you think I will put up with your for that long?”  

“We know each other since we were six and you haven’t run away yet. Besides, I’m the only boy you aren’t scared to talk to.”  

“Hey! That’s–Maybe it’ll change in the future! Maybe–”

Jungkook ignored you and instead thrusted his pinky finger in your direction. You stopped speaking right away. Pinky promises held little significance yet for some reason, you felt like it was a serious situation. And if the determined look on your best friend's face was anything to go by, he thought the same.

“If we don’t find anyone worth giving our heart to by the time we are twenty-five, let’s get married. Promise?”  

You were astonished, to say the least, staring at this hand with wide eyes. You were only fourteen back then and to hear something like that from the boy you loved was like a teenage dream come true. You replied with blind devotion. Because there was only one, good answer to such question.

“Promise.”

You are twenty-four now, hopelessly in love with your best friend and the smell of peonies still makes you nauseous.  

#jungkook smut #btswritingcafe #bangtanarmynet #bangtanhq #ksmutclub #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #my writing #an ode to a broken heart

[immacaria]

Box of Memories

Happy belated birthday, A-Sang! Wish you all the joy and love life has reserved for you!

Almost three weeks after the actual birthday I've finally finished this thanks to my dear school (grinds teeth angrily). Anyway, this is a bit short, like almost 4k or something, and I took this insanely amount of time because of school, but it's alright I finished it now. So I hope you guys enjoy this and I can make your day a little brighter with it. As always, stay safe and healthy!

_____________________________________________________________

It was Nie Huaisang’s birthday and Jiang Cheng was more anxious than when he had to survive Nie Mingjue, Lan Xichen and Meng Yao’s shove talk one after the other. For the heavens and all above, they had been dating for four years now and met each since they were five and six! There was no reason for him to be so nervous! They passed so many birthdays, with so many presents exchanged and Jiang Cheng was still nervous. And just because he made the present with his own hands and it turned out horrible!

Like not the ‘you can’t even look at’ type of horrible, but the ‘didn’t meet my expectations exactly what immediately makes it horrible’ type of horrible. He started doing it exactly two days later after Nie Huaisang said he wanted it and guaranteed that nobody would buy it for him, exactly nine months and eight days before his birthday. He had seen it on Pinterest, in a video where a girl was making a “box of memories” (as Jiang Cheng came to call it) for her younger sister.

She had chosen their favourite memory and made something like a box of shadows to show it. There was a light bulb in the middle with various metal plates cut in the shape of the memories. When turned on, the metal plates started to revolve around the light bulb and create images on the wall, recreating the memory with the shadows. Nie Huaisang loved it and showed it to every person who he knew could give one for him or make one. Thankfully, none of them could give it right away which gave Jiang Cheng enough time to plan how he would do it.

It all began with him asking what memory he would use of all his favorites and asked what happened there, memorizing them to the heart and writing everything down the second he saw himself alone. His drawing skills weren’t as good as Nie Huaisang and Lan Xichen’s, but as long as they remained a sketch, they would do. After sketching it all, he went to Nie Mingjue and asked him to teach him how to cut the metal plates and arrange them properly in the other metal pieces. Apparently, there was a machine that did that for them, the only thing they needed to do was insert the images and the sizes of the plates and let it do what it needed to do. Which led Jiang Cheng to ask for some draw lessons from Lan Xichen and digital design from Lan Wangji, which cost several years of his life but he guessed he was bound to do everything needed for his boyfriend.

He planned everything on the little planner he bought (if it was specifically brought for that no one needed to know) and every day he ticked something off. Besides the box of memories, he wrote a letter everyday to him and hid it in the last drawer of his wardrobe under piles and piles of clothes. From Open it now to Open it when you are sixty years old and Open it when you are in doubt about us, everyday a letter for 281 days and too much ink, paper and ideas, too much feelings engraved in those. But should he regret it, knowing that it would make Nie Huaisang happy? The boy loved this kind of old, romantic things like handwritten letters, so why shouldn’t he give it to him too? Handwritten letters with little doodles on the edges of the paper and little trinkets.

At the beginning of May, Jiang Cheng started putting it all together, doing the last reviews and adjustments. Once the plates were done, he called Wei Wuxian to help with the electric part of the thing, the shameless idiot being graduated in electrical engineering somehow. He had to endure his little ramble about how he had become so romantic and how considerate of somebody else’s feelings, how he was going miles out of what everyone said was normal. It would be a lie if Jiang Cheng ever said that he wasn’t slightly proud and happy upon hearing that.

They made slow progress but the present was ready six days before the due date, which gave Jiang Cheng enough anxiety and stress for the rest of his life (good thing he took on his mother’s side of genetics and wasn’t getting any white hairs until a very, very old age). Would Nie Huaisang find out the present before his birthday? Would he hate it or love it? Would he simply be neutral about all the gifts? Would he fake liking it? What could possibly happen once he gives it to him? Would it destroy their relationship?

On March 20, Jiang Cheng was about to have a stroke or an aneurysm or both of them probably. Just some more hours and they would see if Nie Huaisang liked the present or not. Since it had been ready, the poor present had been tested countless times to see if it worked properly (it did, thank gods), changed locations incessantly while he wrote every single letter by hand before making a wooden box and putting all he had made in there. The memory box, the 281 letters and some fans he bought in the Yunmeng market that reminded him of Nie Huaisang.

Early on, he had promised Nie Huaisang that he would help him with the birthday’s decorations and preparations for everything . After that, he made a quick run to his house to take a bath and try to calm himself because he couldn’t throw up in the party, he even got time to test it again, watching as Nie Huaisang’s favourite memory of all time played on his bedroom wall. It was practically memorized by now, the way the images followed one by one in quick succession, recreating a story that he could tell even if he had amnesia.

Nie Huaisang, Nie Mingjue and their parents were the main characters in the memory. Nie Huaisang was maybe four or five years old while Nie Mingjue was something like sixteen or seventeen years old and they were travelling to the small cabin they passed the holidays. He always said that that weekend was the best one of his life, one where his entire family was together and happy, complete. This memory in particular was one where Nie Huaisang was being thrown in the air by his father to land in the arms of one of his mothers while Nie Mingjue and their second mother were suffering a heart attack. Even though there was some melancholy in his eyes, he always spoke fondly and laughed about the face his brother made when he landed on their mother’s arms and passed the rest of the weekend guaranteeing that their father wouldn’t do another one of those again.

Jiang Cheng would die as a happy man if he could make him as happy as he was on that day, even if for one day. Well, not die, he was still too young to die, but he would feel fulfilled and satisfied. So, he tried to focus on that when he stepped inside the party, clutching to the wooden box and breathing deep. He’s going to like it, he’s not going to hate me, he’s going to smile because of the present, everything is going to be fine, we are not breaking up. Okay, maybe he was a little bit paranoid and afraid of what was going to happen, but he was fine, he was going to be fine. He just needed to loosen up and enjoy the party until it was time to open the presents.

“A-Cheng!” Nie Huaisang said, throwing his arms around his neck and hiding his face in his neck. Jiang Cheng only had time to pull the box to the side to prevent him from getting hurt before putting an arm around his waist and kissing his temple. “Tell your brother to stop being mean to me on my birthday.”

“If Lan Wangji can’t control him, what makes you think I can?” He said, still holding him. “Happy birthday, Huaisang, many years of life and happiness for you.” He kissed his temple again before stepping away and showing him the present. “For you.”

“Oh, A-Cheng! You didn’t need to! You are already present enough.” He gasped, taking the box of his hands while Jiang Cheng rolled his eyes at him. He always said that but he remembered very well what he did to Jin Zixuan when the man showed up without his present. He didn’t want to be in the same ending of his fury, thank you very much.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever you say.” He rolled his eyes again, bending a little to let Nie Huaisang kiss his cheek.

“I don’t know what you gave me, but I already love it.” He smiled brightly at him, walking to the kitchen and carefully choosing a place to put it. The kitchen was loaded with presents, some big, others small, colorful wraps or black and white with an interesting pattern on it, some didn’t even had proper wraps around it. There were a lot of presents and for a moment Jiang Cheng’s brain simply went blank and decided that, for sure, there was one that topped his present. Which was nonsense, but still served to increase his stress and anxiety (once again he thanked his genetics for not getting white hairs early). “C’mon, let’s go to the living room. Da-ge is telling some story from when we were children.”

“Is he telling the green incident? Because if he is, I would rather stay in the kitchen.” And check if the other presents are better than mine so I can throw them out the window.

“Of course not! Da-ge doesn’t remember that story anymore.” He waved him off, entering the room in the exact moment Nie Mingjue said:

“Then a bucket of green paint fell into his head.” His thunderous laugh filled the room as he started to tell the amazing story of how Nie Huaisang managed to dye himself green after he dumped a whole bucket of paint on his head when he was seven years old.

“Da-ge!” He screamed, going red instantly. “What are you doing?!” He yelped, high-pitched, as he threw a cushion at him. “Shut up!”

“What? I was just talking about the green dye you did on your skin.” He laughed again, dodging the cushion and showing his tongue to him. It was strange to see a man of his size acting like that, but sincerely Jiang Cheng sometimes forgot that he too was human and (kind of) young. “Hey, Wanyin, do you want to sit here?”

“Hey, hey, hey. No stealing boyfriends on my birthday or ever, Da-ge. You already have two.” He wrapped himself around his arm, glaring at his brother. “Stop being so selfish, Da-ge.”

“Selfish? Take that back, brat, before I break your legs.” He narrowed his eyes at him, pointing a finger at him.

“It’s his birthday and you don’t get to threaten the birthday boy, Jue-ge.” Lan Xichen sighed, pulling his hand down. He was beside Nie Mingjue and sitting next to Lan Wangji, talking quietly between the two of them before the threats started rolling out.

“Stop covering him, Lan Xichen.” He turned to him as Nie Huaisang pulled him to the bench next to the window and between two high bookshelves full of sketchbooks, some completed, others completely blank.

“So, what’s your present?” He suddenly asked, playing with Jiang Cheng’s fingers.

“What? It’s a fucking surprise, A-Sang, I can’t tell you.” He spurred, furrowing his eyebrows at him.

“But, A-Cheng, yours were the heaviest of it all. What is it?” He shook his arm, doing the puppy eyes. The fucking puppy eyes.

“Don’t look at me like that. Stop, A-Sang.” He growled, avoiding looking at him. “You know I can’t take the puppy eyes.”

“A-Cheng~.” He laid ahead, searching for his eyes. And, heavens, who taught that boy that? Nie Mingjue for sure was not. Maybe Meng Yao. Yeah, definitely Meng Yao. Jiang Cheng was going to kill Meng Yao for teaching Nie Huaisang that. “Please~. I want to know.”

“Ok, ok, ok. Just one part, okay?” Jiang Cheng pushed him away, feeling the back of his neck heating up.

“From how many parts?” His eyes were shining and attentive which meant that he was probably making a million combinations on his head, comparing and guessing what he could possibly ever get him.

“I’m not going to tell you.” He scowled, taking a deep breath. “One part of your presents is fans, okay? I got you some fans.”

“Really?!” His eyebrows shot up, disappearing under his bangs. “I love fans.”

“I know, A-Sang.” He breathed out, kissing his fingers.

“But I love you more.” He smiled, leaning to kiss him lightly on the lips. “I love you so much more than the fans.” He murmured against them, hands on his neck.

“Idiot.” He chuckled, kissing him back while smiling. He always seemed to smile easily when he was near him, breath was easier too. Sincerely, Nie Huaisang just made things easier just by being near him, just his presence and, maybe, it was the reason why he wanted to do everything in his power to make him happy as he could be. “I love you too.”

“More than dogs and A-Ling?” He sat between his legs, back against his chest.

“Don’t push your luck.” He may love A-Sang, but dogs and his nephew were more important, they always brought instant happiness with them. Next to him, Nie Huaisang was chuckling quietly, pulling both of Jiang Cheng’s arms around his waist and putting his hands above before starting to talk with Meng Yao about some new exposition of them and all the technicalities involving it.

Jiang Cheng let himself fall back into the security of all the conversations around him that didn’t involve him and the warmth of Nie Huaisang on his arms and against his chest. Slowly his panic disappeared from his mind as the time passed and the presents weren’t mentioned not even once. Almost everyone was there, the only ones missing being Jin Zixuan, Jiang Yanli and their newborn Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng’s little sweetheart, who were overseas to look over the inauguration of Jiang Yanli’s new restaurant in Las Vegas (To say that Jiang Cheng was crazely proud of her would be an understatement).

Either way, no amount of time would be enough to prepare him for when Wei Wuxian and MianMian appeared in the kitchen bringing the cake and the tray of sweets. The candle was already lit up and displaying the number 23, as if nobody knew how old Nie Huaisang was. He dislocated his hands enough to clap but not remove his arm from around his waist. Nie Huaisang laughed, clapping according to the music, but sunken further on his chest, refusing to move another millimeter as his ears went adorably red.

“Happy birthday, Nie Huaisang!” Everyone screamed when the song ended, blowing confetti over them. The screams and whistles became a cacophony as Nie Huaisang blew out the candle and laughed out loud, putting both of his hands over his mouth.

“Happy birthday, Nie-xiong!” MianMian hugged him after Wen Qing, her girlfriend, took the cake from her. “Many, many years of happiness and fulfillment to you, my dear. Hope you enjoy mine and A-Qing’s present.” She winked, mischievously.

“What have you given me, MianMian?” Nie Huaisang said, eyes wide.

“Nothing you can open in front of Da-ge.” She laughed, absolutely delighted at his terrified face and Jiang Cheng’s groan. He had noticed that everyone had a tendency of calling Nie Mingjue ‘Da-ge’.

“No! You stole my idea!” Wei Wuxian complained, giving him a half-hug and equilibrating the tray of sweets on the other arm. “Many years of love and laughter, Nie-xiong, may time and life treat you well.” He fully hugged him once MianMian came back to take the tray away from him, calming Jiang Cheng’s anxiety.

“I want to see what those two gave you. No excuses.” Nie Mingjue said, serious, before crushing him in a tight hug. “Happy anniversary, didi. I’m very proud of you and what you have become. Ma, Baba and Mother would be so, so proud of you and happy for all the friends and people you have around you.” He may or may not have sniffed on that part, hiding his face on his brother’s neck.

“Thank you, Da-ge. They would be very proud of you too.” Nie Huaisang whispered back and Jiang Cheng saw him blink repeatedly to avoid the tears from falling out.

“He grew up so fast.” He mourned, resting his head on Lan Xichen’s shoulder while Meng Yao hugged and wished him a happy birthday and life. Once he was done and it was Lan Xichen’s turn, Nie Mingjue wrapped himself over him, sniffing loudly. After that, the other guests did a quick succession of ‘Happy Birthday’ and wishes for a good and long life. Not for a moment Nie Huaisang stepped away from Jiang Cheng, always at arm’s reach of his hands. Not that he had tried to pull him back when he stepped away, Jiang Cheng would never do that.

“So, A-Sang, now that all the wishes have been given and Wangji-ge and I have cut the cake. For whom is the first piece?” MianMian asked, holding a plate with a piece of cake to him.

“A-Cheng!” He quickly answered, turning to him. “For being the best boyfriend a man could ask. And not being too scared of Da-ge.”

“I’m not that scared of Mingjue-ge, but thank you, I guess.” Jiang Cheng said, taking the plate from his hands and completely refusing to look over where Nie Mingjue was.

“Woah, he didn’t even hesitate.” Wei Wuxian said, surprised. “I could swear he was going to give it to Da-ge.” That was it, Jiang Cheng was now certain that everyone, except for maybe Wen Qing, saw Nie Mingjue as an older brother. But, well, were they wrong?

“Da-ge has received many first pieces in his life. It’s A-Cheng’s time.” Nie Huaisang scrunched his nose at him before jogging to the kitchen. “C’mon people! Eat, eat! I want to open my presents!”

Jiang Cheng chuckled, starting to eat the cake as the others were doing a line to receive their own piece and, fucking hell, he understood why they wanted one. The cake was divine! It was fluffy and tasty, exploding in the mouth the moment you bite it and it wasn’t too sweet. It was possibly the best cake he ever had the pleasure to eat and by the look of the other’s face, they thought that too.

“Nie-xiong, who made the cake? I want their number.” Wei Wuxian said, pleasure written all over his face. “It’s so good!”

“Oh, it was Wangji and Da-ge.” Nie Huaisang said, pointing at them. Everyone turned their heads to them, looking in awe.

“Lan Zhan?! But he never did one of me.” Wei Wuxian complained, pouting.

“Mingjue-ge made the dough and I did the frosting and the decorations.” Lan Wangji passed a piece of cake to Wen Ning.

“And the sweets. He did the sweets too.” Nie Mingjue said, throwing one of the sweets in his mouth.

“Which are fucking marvellous!” MianMian exclaimed, doing a thumbs up for him.

“No speaking while eating.” He and Lan Xichen said in unison, without looking at her. After that everyone focused on eating the cake and the sweets. Nie Huaisang came back to sit beside Jiang Cheng, taking the sweets he didn’t like to his own plate. Most of them got a second piece and more sweets because those things were really fucking good.

“Now, the presents!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, excited and sending Jiang Cheng’s heartbeat to space. “I’m excited.” He was jumping on his seat.

“Whose present will you open first?” Lan Xichen said, getting up and going to the kitchen.

“A-Cheng’s.” He smiled as he started to bring the presents from the kitchen. Jiang Cheng prayed that his panic weren’t showing on his face nor his anxiety because his mind was running a mile per hour.

He was going to open the present and see how horrible it was that box of memories and they would break up. Maybe not now because of the fans, but once he started reading the letters and seeing how messed up he was, it would be an endgame. No one, being in their right mind, would stay after reading those letters. Before he could be totally swallowed by his traitorous mind, he heard a scream and someone throwing themselves at him, arms around his neck.

“Thank you!” Nie Huaisang screamed in his ear, pulling him against himself. “Thank you so much!” He sounded happy, but he was crying too.

“What the fuck, Huaisang? Are you crying?” He said, trying to look at his face where it was hidden on his neck. “Why are you-...” He started, before seeing the box sitting on his lap. “Oh.”

“A-Cheng.” He whined, looking up. “Look what you did to me. I’m crying like a baby.” The tears were falling two by two, big fat tears that he did not like to see on his face. “When did you buy it?”

“I made it.” He blurted out, focused on wiping the tears.

“What?” He blinked, sniffing loudly.

“I made it. I made most of the things in the box, including the box. The only things I bought were the fans, I still don’t know how to make fans like you.” He kept wiping the tears, putting his sleeve over his nose for him to blow. “You know I’m not good with handcrafted gifts but since it’s your birthday I tried.”

“I love you so much.” Nie Huaisang hugged him again while Wei Wuxian took the box from his legs and turned it on.

“What memory did you use?” He asked and, oh yeah, Jiang Cheng never told any of them what memory he was planning to use. He instructed MianMian to turn the light off, rearranging it on the small coffee table in the center.

“One from when me and Da-ge were younger.” Nie Huaisang answered as Nie Mingjue’s eyes filled with tears at recognition. “Best present ever.” He whispered, leaning on him with a small smile on his lips and watching as the memory came to life again. Jiang Cheng smiled down at him, passing an arm over his shoulders and watching as he told the story about how Nie Mingjue, who had many comments on how it was being told, almost had a heart attack when he was seventeen.

It was, indeed, the best present ever.

#sangcheng #nie huaisang #jiang cheng #jiang wanyin #happy belated birthday huaisang dear #fluff #light angst #due jc's anxiety and overthinking #nie mingjue #lan xichen #meng yao #lan zhan #lan wangji #wei wuxian #mianmian #luo qingyang #jin zixuan #wen ning #jiang yanli #jin ling #jiang cheng x nie huaisang #nie huaisang x jiang cheng #nie bros #jiang siblings #twins jades of lan

[yeochikin]

sick days. | j. yunho

a/n: phew i finally did it! this is a sequel to this fic but this can also be read as its own too! i won’t lie, i had so much trouble writing this. the amount of times i typed then erased then typed over and over again was a huge struggle for me in the past week, so i understand if this fic seemed a little... blegh ;;;; writer’s block sucks but it’s alright, i enjoyed writing it anyway hehe hope you enjoyed this. do excuse any mistakes as this has not been proofread ✨💖

word count: 3k+

main focus: yunho x fem. reader

warning(s): none, i think!

“tell me i'm hot.” 

“yeah, you're hot, yunho.”

“aye.”

“you have a fever.”

“aye?”

“say ‘aye’ one more time, and i’m gonna stab you with my paintbrush.”

“aye!”

your eye twitched at his answer, showing him the temperature you had taken for him. the boy in question, who was currently laid all tucked in bed with a wet cloth on his forehead, merely gave you a bright smile despite his face looking all flushed. sometimes, you wondered whether your roommate was literally a golden retriever in his past life who got reincarnated into a human, but still somehow having the energetic personality following his next life.

“little rose, you're gonna catch my fever too. i can take care of myself.” he protested, watching as you gathered the empty ceramic bowl that was previously filled with yunho's favourite soup, mentally thanking seonghwa in your head for the recipe he gave earlier, promptly placing it onto the wooden tray you left on his bedside drawer.

“pup, you know i have a stronger immune system between the two of us. i'll be fine.” you retorted, causing the sick boy to jut his lower lip out into a little sulky pout.

“you're lucky you're cute, pup.” you grumbled, moving the cloth away to feel at his forehead, the playful glare in your eyes melting into a soft gaze. you couldn’t stay mad at him, even if you tried. luckily, his skin wasn't burning as much as before, though the pinkness in his cheeks were still present.

everything seemed like a blur today. all he remembered was trying to get up from the bed but for some reason, yunho felt as if someone had dumped a huge pile of bricks on top of his body while someone kept hitting his head with a hammer. he was lucky that you came into his room to wake him up as soon as his best friend, mingi, called you up to ask where the peachy haired boy was since he couldn't reach him for some reason. that's when you know something was up.

of course, panic started to fill your entire being as soon as you saw how flushed his cheeks looked upon entering the room, along with him shivering underneath his blanket. you immediately went to his side as you phoned your other friends to tell them what was happening. it didn't take long for yunho to be dragged away from the bed by mingi, and jongho (mainly jongho) just so seonghwa could drive them to the doctor's, despite yunho mumbling that he's fine to which he was absolutely not fine at all.

you were thankful that it wasn't that serious, but nevertheless, yunho still received an earful of scolding from you for not taking care of himself more, as if seonghwa’s nagging wasn't enough. 

so now here he is, laying still on the bed as his eyes blinked slowly before his lips lazily curled up into a grin towards you once he felt your palm resting against his forehead. the dazed look in his eyes was already a sign of the medicine he took earlier slowly kicking in. noticing how droopy his eyes were, you made sure the blankets were properly tucked on him. 

“rest, pup. by the time you wake up, it will be when i wake you up for dinner so you can take your meds.” you hushed him, sitting down on the edge of his bed.

poor boy only grunted in response, finally giving up to force his eyes open, letting sleep take over him. you had decided to linger a little longer in the room, just until you were completely sure that the taller male was finally getting that much needed rest. sighing to yourself, your lithe fingers gingerly moved away some of the stray strands that managed to cover most of his eyes. your expression softens at the way his lips parted ever so slightly, chest heaving up and down in an even pace, adoring the way he looked so serene. with quick yet quiet movements so as to not wake the male up, you picked up the wooden tray, and crept up on your tiptoes towards the door. 

you let your body drop onto the couch in your small living room, an arm over your forehead as your eyes stared up at the ceiling. the room was filled with silence that if someone were to drop a pin, it would have created a loud noise. the silence… it was almost a little too eerie for you. normally, it would have been filled with the sounds of you and yunho discussing your assignments as if one could give the other an inspiration to do so. it was when you turned your head to the coffee table that you saw something on the coffee table. 

it was your sketchbook. 

the object sitting idly on the table made you recall a particular conversation you had with yunho a couple of night’s ago.

“what are you up to, little rose?”

yunho’s voice effectively made you look up from your sketchbook, the page though seemingly empty, it was a tad crumpled from your many attempts of sketching, doodling, and the many amounts of erasing. the peachy haired boy made his way from the kitchen overlooking the living room to sit down right next to you with two mugs of what seems to be coffee in both hands, handing one of them to you.

sending him a defeated smile along with a low mumble of appreciation, carefully lifting the mug up to your lips to take a small sip of the drink. as if almost immediately, the bittersweet taste of the drink washed over your tastebuds, warmth being sent throughout your entire being. clearly, nothing can really beat coffee whenever you were in a stumped position. 

“professor kim wanted us to draw something yesterday.” you finally answered, momentarily pausing to take another sip of the coffee, the boy next to you putting an arm on the couch behind your head while his other hand held onto his mug, listening to you intently.

“he mentioned that he wanted something that.. makes our chests swell with a warm feeling that you feel in your chest whenever you look at your own drawing?” you mumbled, furrowing your eyebrows as you set your gaze onto the blank sketchpad that was laid idly on your lap, lips pursing in deep thought.

“well, surely you must have felt the feeling before, don’t you?” yunho asked, reaching out to place his mug on top of the coffee table in front of where the two of you were seated at.

“i..” you started but somehow, the words died off in your throat. 

you wanted to answer ‘yes, of course i have!’.

you wanted to say, ‘everything makes me feel that way too!’

but..

..you had come to the realisation that you had never felt such a feeling in your life before. but, wasn’t that the same thing as happiness? if that was the case, then everything would’ve been ‘a warm feeling’ to you.  

yunho, who seemed to notice you being in your usual thinking bubble again, merely smiled to himself. from the couple of years being your roommate, and dare he say, your best friend, he had picked up all of your habits, and actions. from the way you would rub your nose due to being flustered, or how you would pick at your lips whenever you felt nervous - to which, he tried to make you stop by giving you a small keychain with a stress ball attached to it, fortunately making you squeeze it instead of picking your lips again - yunho could read you like an open book most of the time. 

though of course, he would have to admit, it is when you seem predictable would be the time where you would be sprouting up something so.. unpredictable. the memory of you pulling a sudden all nighter because of a sudden inspiration from watching a movie would always make you look so endearing in the male’s eyes. it was when your eyes meeting his own was what made yunho flinch ever so slightly in his seat out of surprise. 

“tell me, pup. have you ever felt such a feeling before?” you asked, curiosity evident in your bright eyes. 

your question was to be expected, making yunho’s features soften at you. folding his arms in front of his chest, his back leaned further into the couch as he hummed underneath his breath in thought. the happiness that managed to make him freeze in place, huh? it took him a moment, but eventually, he nodded his head. 

“i have, little rose.” he responded.

“and what was it, if you don’t mind sharing.” you inquired, shifting in your place to sit criss-cross as you turned to face the male next to you.

yunho could only stare at your face, slightly caught off guard upon hearing your sudden interest. he couldn’t help but to release an amused laugh at the way you leaned in ever so slightly, reaching a hand out to playfully ruffle your hair.

“it may sound a little ridiculous. but it was when you threw that birthday party for me last year.” he mentioned, only to feel an amused chortle threatening to leave his lips upon seeing the confused look painted over your face, as if waiting for the peachy haired boy to explain what he meant. 

“you baked a cake for me, no?” the corners of his lips quirked up as soon as realisation seemed to hit you. you did bake a cake for him. but really, it wasn’t that special so made him pick that certain day of all days? before you could even ask, however, yunho already beat you to it by giving out his own answer.

“no one has ever baked a cake for me before, it was either bought from our local bakery in town or none at all. but something about a homemade one.. you can feel the effort and so much love from someone who had taken their time in doing so.” yunho trailed off, eyes somehow shining with an unknown sparkle in them as soon as they landed on your own. 

“and i have you to thank for, little rose.” he continued, fingers gingerly curling the stray strand of hair behind your ear.

you swear you could feel your heart increase its pace, feeling as if it was about to burst out of your chest. your cheeks felt warm due to the feeling of your blood rushing up to them, a hand quickly reaching up to rub your nose before tearing your gaze away from yunho’s warm one. 

you didn’t need any more explanation. you had found your inspiration.

a fond smile curled itself over your tiers at the memory before deciding to stand up as you made your way to your room, grabbing the sketchbook with you along the way. you have a drawing to finish.

❀❀❀❀❀❀❀❀

a small creak from a door being opened resonated throughout the small hallway of the house, along with heavy footsteps, and the sound of a deep yawn mingled in the air. yunho rubbed his eyes as he made his way into the living room. his eyes were still heavy with traces of sleep lingered in them before looking over to the wall clock idly hanging on the wall, wanting to know how many hours had passed after he fell asleep earlier. judging by how dark it was outside, it was already night time, or maybe even midnight. with how long he slept, it was possible he slept the whole day away.

although slowly, yunho was thankful that the medicine seemed to make him recover considering how his head wasn’t throbbing painfully like before, though he still felt a little heavy but it wasn’t as bad as earlier. he could get up on his own, and that’s already enough for the tall male. 

“y/n?” the peachy haired boy called out, wandering around the house in search for you. 

it was when he reached the door to your room that he noticed the door was slightly ajar, along with a faint sound of what seemed like a song playing coming from the inside as well. his knuckles, gently knocked against the wooden surface before gently pushing the door a tad wider, just enough for yunho to peek in. 

and there you were. all hunched over your desk with your head on top of your folded arms, seeming to have fallen asleep with whatever you were doing earlier. as much as yunho wanted you to let you have you rest after busying yourself by helping him earlier during the day, he didn’t want you to have a sore neck and back due to the position you were in. he knew how much you would complain about the pain in the two regions afterwards but then doing it again, it was a never ending cycle that yunho was amused to see from the years of living with you. 

walking over to the desk with an intention of wanting to wake you up so you could properly lie down, the male noticed something right next to your head. it was your sketchbook. he walked up behind you, looking down at your sleeping figure. with how your pencil was loosely being held in between your dainty fingers along with a couple of crumpled up papers, mixed in with the other pencils in a variety of colours you had strewn all over the surface of your desk, yunho had made the conclusion that you were working on the assignment you had told him a couple of days ago. 

he was glad to know that you were finally getting started on it, knowing how much you would procrastinate until things were a little too late for you to do. but with how you managed to finish everything right on time despite having such little time left, would never cease to amaze him every time. 

with slow movements (clearly not wanting you to wake up all surprised and accidentally smack him in the face), yunho leaned over you to clear up your desk from all the clutter and coloured pencils around you, only then having a clear view of what you had drawn onto the sketchbook which caused his eyes to widen ever so slightly at the sight, pausing in his ministrations. 

his gaze was set on two drawn figures in what seems to be a bedroom, standing side by side with their faces facing each other, joyful smiles painted over their features, each having a paintbrush in hand. it looked like the two of them were enjoying their time together. but what had caught yunho’s eyes was one of the figures having the similar shade of peach as his hair colour, mirroring yunho’s own hair colour. it was when he saw the familiar details on the walls of the drawing that the peachy haired male noticed what, or rather, who the two figures were in the sketchbook.

“yunho?” a soft voice called out, grogginess laced in their tone as they spoke up which made the tall male flinch ever so slightly in place as he tore his gaze away from the drawing down to you. 

from his mind, he had already answered you calling out his name but in reality, he was staring down at your face. tilting your head up, eyes half-lidded from the sleepiness still apparent in your irises. it was when you looked down that you might have caught the gist of whatever has made him speechless. emitting a gasp out of realisation, your hands quickly covered the drawing, whining at him.

“y-you weren’t supposed to see that. i wasn’t d-”

“tell me, little rose. what do you see in me?” was his sudden question, effectively making your words die down in your throat. gulping thickly, your heartbeat was suddenly too loud in your ears. finally having the courage, your lips parted to answer the male’s question.

“i have found comfort in you.” you whispered, yunho’s eyes staring into your own nervous ones.

“i have found happiness whenever we spend time together.” you noted the way your faces were mere centimetres apart from each other.

“i have found the.. the warmth that made me feel at home.” his hands reached out for your hands, holding them in his much larger ones, feeling the pad of his thumbs caressing your knuckles.

“i have.. found myself falling for..” you murmured, yunho resting his forehead on top of your own, both of your eyes fluttering shut, and your noses touching against each other.

“i have found myself falling for you.” 

you were scared to open your eyes. you were scared that if you did, everything would have taken a completely different turn. you were scared that you would ruin the friendship the both of you have built together. you were scared to see the disgusted look on yunho’s face after the little confession. 

you were scared to lose yunho. 

however, those thoughts were completely thrown out of the window upon hearing the words being uttered by the male looming above you. 

“little rose, can i kiss you?” 

the question kept repeating itself in your mind. you wanted to say yes, you wanted to throw your arms around his neck, you wanted to scream out in relief. yet, not even a whisper came out. not trusting your voice, and the choice of words, you merely gave him a nod. to yunho, that was already enough for him. without wasting any more time, the taller male leaned in to press his lips against your own. yunho wasn’t sure if his fever was coming back or it was due to his heart pumping so fast that blood rushed to both of his cheeks. he wasn’t sure, but his face was undeniably warm. 

your smaller hand released one of the male’s bigger ones, reaching up to rest itself against his cheek while your lips moved against his own in sync. everything around you felt muted, the only thing you could hear was the beating of your heart like some type of drum. you never knew that a simple action could make you crave for more, but of course, the need for air was already screaming in the both of your minds that made you pull away from each other, albeit reluctantly.

yunho could faintly taste the sweetness that lingered over his lips as his eyes stared into yours in silence, his hand squeezing yours, before a gentle smile spread itself over his brims, you finding it contagious as you can’t help but to show him your own smile in return. deep down, he wanted to kiss you again, seemingly longing to feel them on his lips once again. so, he did just that. much to your surprise, of course you weren’t complaining.

you would be lying if you denied any more of his kisses. 

once the both of you pulled away for the second time, one specific thing popped into your mind, eyes widening in realisation which caused yunho to tilt his head ever so slightly to the side in question.

“if you get me sick, i swear.”

“hey, you said you have a strong immune system!”

“jeong yunho!” 

#ateez #ateez writing #ateez drabbles #ateez fanfic #ateez blurbs #ateez au #ateez scenarios #ateez fluff #ateez reactions #ateez reader insert #ateez imagines #ateez oneshot #ateez x reader #ateez yunho #yunho scenarios #jeong yunho #kpop #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #colly's writings

[raviliuz]

"Here comes the sun" Blaise Zabini x Theodore Nott

Muggle, retro au

@lifesucksandiwanttobeamarauder I finally translate that fanfiction, I hope you like it 🥺

The dark-skinned boy has tried to sit still from three hours already. It is incredibly hard for him, because of his amazing hyperactivity. In all honesty, sitting here as a model doesn't count to his dreams or favourites activities but he couldn't deny to Theodore's asks.

Just because of that — his bloody weakness for the older boy — he must stick up there and pose to Theodore's new painting. Blaise perfectly knows that person on that work of art won't be even similar to him. But it will be beautiful, perfect as everything that has been made by gifted hands of Theodore Nott.

There's music, playing quietly at the background, played on a gramophone, restored by Blaise himself. He gifted it to his friend as a birthday present two years ago on an incredibly warm and short night, 22th of June.

He has so many memories with that slight, passionate boy.

"Theo," he says suddenly, breaking the silence. He sounds like a dissatisfied kitten and when he doesn't notice any reaction, he repeats meowing "Theo, I'm bored."

The other boy finally pays his attention to Blaise, not his reflection on painting, which is created on a canvas (too small in Theo's opinion).

"Blaise, you really can't stand it for a while more?" Theodore asks and there is a nuance of desperation and melancholy in his voice, "I want to end it."

And Blaise has already known, he loses again. He won't be able to deny his friend the pleasure that results from looking at the painting — finished, after hours of working.

"I'll stand it, Theo" he sighs and in his mind adds 'always for you'. At this moment all he can do is begging and praying that Theodore is not able to read minds, just like some characters in their favourites comics.

"Nah, Blaise" slight boy says suddenly and leaves his paint palette and set of brushes on the cupboard, promising himself that he will wash it carefully within a few minutes when paints won't be already dry "I know you don't want to."

"It's not like that" Zabini starts to explaining himself chaotically because he doesn't want hurt Theodore's feelings, "I love watching your painting and you while you're painting. And I love that you have a passion and you're so talented. I just... It's May Day and we are sitting in your room..."

"It's alright, Blaise" Theodore interrupts his with the most beautiful, in Zabini's opinion, smile — that carefree, happy and only a little faraway one.

"We should do something and bring Hope with us to take many photos and place them in our albums with dumb yet cute captions" Theo proposes with a light laugh.

The younger, but taller, better built and more mature, of boys, stands up and brushes off invisible pollen from clothes. He reaches his hand to Theodore to help him stand up.

"Wanna go?" he proposes and even if Theo doesn't know where he agrees without a single question.

It doesn't matter where they go, it will be awesome as always if Blaise is with him.

He catches Hope and puts it on his neck. Theo loves his polaroid camera with whole his heart, even if it isn't the newest and all the better photos were made by Blaise.

Blaise is still holding Theodore's hand in his (definitely larger and rougher), like he doesn't care about rubs of paints in many different colours on Theo's hand and now, also on Blaise's one.

He pulls his friends outside and enters the garage like he is in his own house. Theodore knows what he means without words and grabs his bicycle with a big smile on his slim face.

Meanwhile, Blaise grabs his skateboard, which, only in the form of rebellion against sentiment, he did not give a name. But he perfectly knows that by his skateboard, people could see a different side of his personality, which he doesn't show often — bloody sentimentalist who loves very clichéd books or movies and constantly remembering beautiful moments, and it doesn't matter if that happens a year ago or two hours ago.

The skateboard has its best years far behind its. The picture which was printed on the underside of 'his love' (although, of course, incomparable to that of the boy just standing next to him) has almost completely faded and crumbled, peeling paint seems not so good, to put it mildly, but in Blaise's opinion, it adds the special character and charm to his skateboard. Every scratch and every cooked screw tell a story and Blaise thinks it definitely better than new skateboard — probably glamorous but without its own character.

Blaise isn't similar to Theo, not it that topic. He has never had boxes filled with various craps, which refer to many different events and happenings. He doesn't have special notebooks with tickets, a diary or millions of notes with quick sketches, created under the influence of a sudden flow of wen. He doesn't keep every notes and message on scraps of papers, which have been hand down on lessons, in hope that the teacher wouldn't see that. In first, even having a photo album was strange for Blaise. It shows, that he likes looking back at past and that feeling, which sometimes accompanies you right before falling asleep, when you remind yourself one of those pleasant situations from childhood, isn't foreign for him. It was all he was trying to defend himself against, but only for a time.

For a time when on his way stood that quite frail and nerdy boy. Theodore showed him being sentiment isn't something bad just as singing songs out loud in public places. As compensation, Blaise showed him the magic of comics and all these beautiful, charming in their area, which he discovered while taking a walk daily. Blaise pulled Theodore out of his room and dragged him away from the easel to lead him everywhere he can.

"To our place?" Theodore asks and gets on his a little too small, colourful bike. The seat creaks quietly under his mass but none of the boys pays any attention to this.

"Exactly, now ride, my carriage" Blaise screams and catches up on Theo's seat so the movement of the bicycle can drag him.

"Pff, flax" Nott giggles and Blaise find it as the most sonorous, melodic sound in the whole world.

They ride slowly through all that musty hole, also known as Torquay, or — their home. The road even if it's really old and it remembers when they as children drew chalk on a street, is not in a bad condition. A worse fate befell the road signs — some of them are smeared with sprays, and some are knocked off the ground, due to a car accident or a group of probably drunk but still strong young people.

There are many houses near the road. They are quite poor and definitely not as modern as houses in the capital. At some time, before he started taking daily walks, Blaise dreamed about living in London. Or rather, to be able to tell others that he lives in London. It's another thing which distinguishes him from Theodore — the older boy sees beauty everywhere, in everything and in everybody. Blaise envied him with this skill, for him the world has been boring or just ugly and people have been cruel sometimes.

The sun is warming their backs when they slowly ride on a well-known path. They pass Mrs Shermik, so out of courtesy from four meters away from her, they shout to the old woman joyful 'Good morning'. As they turn into a lane, which is fortunately dry as it hasn't rained much lately, Theo starts humming under his breath.

"Hey Jude, don't make it bad" he looks at his friend (nearly losing control of his bike) and Blaise quickly understands what he means.

Blaise joins to his singing and adds next line:

"Take a sad song and make it better".

Someday Blaise would have worried. He was worried about what people would think, he was afraid someone would hear them. But not now. Now he doesn't care when the words flowing from the depths of memory, and when the song ends, he starts another, definitely his favourite — "Blackbird". Neither of the boys has a perfect voice, singing is definitely not their hidden talent, but that doesn't matter. And that is wonderful, isn't it?

Here Blaise can no longer skate further — the ground is too uneven, even ploughed by the tires of wheelbarrows and carts of people from the neighbouring village. The dark-skinned man rejects Theo's offer to simply get his bike's rack and chooses to run next to the boy. The basketball team and two trainings a week are finally coming in handy — thanks to this, his condition is really good and he doesn't gasp like an old man with asthma after twenty meters run. Theodore, noticing how well his best friend is doing, accelerates, forcing Zabini to run, which he accepts with a groan. Nevertheless, he catches up with the older boy and promises himself that as soon as they get there, he will get his revenge.

After five more minutes, they are a destination of their travel. The place they describe as "their", although they are well aware that they are not the only people who come here, is exactly as they remember it — beautiful.

It was Blaise who discovered them during one of his walks over three years ago. He perfectly remembered how it happened.

That day he was trying to find a rather fast but shallow brook, which he remembered from his childhood. Before Draco's move to London, they told Draco's parents that they were going to the field, but in fact, they went to the brook and walked back and forth on a tree that had fallen over the river. He remembered just as well how Draco's mother, on her way to the store, noticed they were not on the field, prompting a search. When their parents found them by the brook — wet but in unusually good moods, they were already too worried to be upset with them.

After searching for more than an hour (during which he definitely fulfilled the daily, maybe even a week, step norm, but he didn't care) he found a place from his memories, although it was difficult to recognize its. The brook had dried up completely, leaving only a faint riverbed and tree roots washed out of the ground, but the place has definitely retained its charm.

Theo drops the bicycle, leaning it hurriedly against one of the roots, and lays down on the grass, staring at the almost cloudless sky, hidden only by tree branches. Blaise, slightly out of breath, rests his hands on his knees and stays like this for a moment. When his breath normalized he comes closer to Theodore. There is a snap and a Polaroid camera gracefully named Hope spits out a photo in which the image hasn't shown up yet. Theo enthusiastically grabs a small piece of paper and starts waving it so fast that it is about to reach orbital velocity. After a while, the picture clears up the silhouette of a younger boy, who was about to lie down next to his friend. Blaise looks at the photo and asks smiling, even though he already knows the answer:

"For your or my album?"

"Of course mine," Theodore replies quickly, grinning happily, "Why do you need your own photos? They will be much more useful to me."

The dark-skinned boy can't help but messes Theodore's hair in one move of his hand. However, Theo is not annoyed by that, he reacts to it like a cat, moving closer and silently demanding further caresses, which the younger one does willingly.

They are sitting like that (or rather, Blaise is sitting and Theo's half lying on him) till the sunset. There is a flower crown on Blaise's head, made by Theo with field flowers collected by him. And of course, Theodore took a photo of Blaise in his work of art.

It's getting dark. Butterflies, which were flying around them flew away and gave way for beautiful moths and fireflies. Theodore stands up energetically and starts jumping on protruding trees' roots, chasing insects to take a photo of them.

"Theo, please be careful," Blaise says attentively but the only response is 'don't worry' screamed by Nott.

Blaise unwillingly starts remembering his childhood. Times, when he wasn't Theodore's friend and all that connected them, was the same neighbourhood, chalk and short-term relationship of their parents. Then they found that as a stupid and loathsome. Nowadays, at their seventeen's, just as weird. But they weren't friends. After all, Blaise was friends with Draco and the teacher in primary had repeated that it's better to have fewer friends but true friends. So Blaise fraternizes with Malfoy till he moved to London.

It's not that now Blaise finds it as a mistake or holds any grudge with Draco. But nowadays he thinks that it is not good to withdraw from others.

When Draco had left and moved to London, Blaise had thought they now he stayed alone but on that moment, Theodore slowly crept into his life. Nott sat next to Blaise on school basketball pitch and started reminding happy moments from times when Draco lived in Torquey.

And later he showed his painting to Blaise and dark-skinned boy couldn't believe someone his age could do something that beautiful. A week later Blaise sat down with him in the canteen and sometime later also on most of the lessons so he could distract him from learning to read their favourites comics.

Now, Blaise would imagine his life without his always laughing and only sometimes a little faraway friend.

His thoughts are interrupted by a quiet scream.

"Ouch!"

Blaise, worried, stands up imminently and run through Theo. He is curled up in a fetal position between roods of the biggest tree. Zabini hugs him tightly and Theodore accepts that willing, cuddling to his chest while holds back tears.

"Ah, Theo" Blaise whispers, still cuddling the boy in his arms, "I asked you to be careful."

"I'm sorry, Blaise" he answers, sniffing.

"Don't apologize to me, silly" Blaise couldn't stop himself from nuzzling his friend's cheek.

"But you are worrying now and you warned me that I might get hurt..."

"Shhhh" Zabini interrupts him and places his fingers on Theo's mouth to shushes him "I always worrying about you, no matter if you get hurt or not" he admits truthfully and after a few seconds of silence adds "Please, stop crying.

He stops hugging Theodore, although he wants to do it forever. Blaise squats in from of him and gently grabs his friend's head. He wipes away tears, flowing slowly on fairy (although all that time, spends under the sunlight) skin.

He wants to not cry because of sadness or pain, wants him not to have reasons for a cry.

He wants him to be always happy, even if that meant that Blaise wouldn't be on his side.

Wants, wants, wants.

But the world isn't always beautiful, even if Theodore thinks so. Sometimes the world is cruel, ugly or just totally boring. The same about people who live in it.

Do it's really important to find your refuge. A place, a person or a hobby, which will be like an escape from all evils in that world.

Blaise thought that his escape is comics. Reading them has dragged him into the world of superheroes where he could use his imagination and think about meaningless things for hours such as what superpower would he choose (flying, of course). Besides that, the world in comics is just easier. It isn't hard to differentiate who is good and who's bad. Good people fight with bad people, that's all. The Justice League cares about Gotham and saves innocent people from Joker, Deadshot or Darkseid. In the real world, it would be an unsolvable matter with billions different threads and complications so even the best detectives wouldn't be able to decide who is guilty.

Comics world is just easier.

Lately, Blaise has got to understand that the whole beauty in that world is locked in its confusions, problems and ambiguities. Because the world is beautiful, even if sometimes it's cruel or ugly.

And the one who made him understand that is his only real refuge — Theodore Nott.

He is the one who makes reading comics even better.

He is the one with who Blaise could do anything and it would be incredibly good.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to talk about 'good old times' and makes new memories to remember.

He is the one with who Blaise wants to stay forever.

Theodore Nott is the one who Blaise bestow that hot and unique feeling which, no matter what since says, comes from the heart.

And that feeling, now makes him do something, he has been dreaming about for that long. Blaise gently and unsurely grabs the head of the person, who since a year isn't only a friend for him. He delicately raises Theo's head a bit upper to look him straight into his eyes. Their lips touch slowly and gently. Both of them don't feel so confident with what's going on but they will worry about that later. Now, Blaise doesn't have the time and desire to thinks about the consequences. Not now, when he feels the structure of soft lips of his love.

When the dark-skinned boy doesn't notice any objections from the older boy, he let himself do a light, carefully move with his lips. He doesn't want to scared Theodore, knowing how delicate and artsy person he is. He would ever forgive himself hurting Theo.

If he only knew how long Theodore was waiting for it and how much he enjoys that kiss, even if Blaise's lips are rough and chapped.

Blaise gently moves away and hangs his head down, looking at too long grass. He's afraid of seeing Theodore's reaction for what he has done because he's afraid of rejection and ending that important relationship.

However, Theo, likes he doesn't see his friend insecure, giggles lightly and grabs the younger boy cheeks, turning his face to him.

"Oh, finally. How long might I wait?" Theo says with a delightful smile.

"Really. You... Me..." Blaise mutters like he doesn't know what he wants to say.

"Yeah, silly" Theo chucked and hits an end of Blaise's nose with his "You're definitely my favourite person in that universe. And every other, alternative universe too."

Blaise, still can't believe what's happening, hugs his boy and kisses him quickly. The kiss is one hundred per cent cute and totally not sultry. Because feelings as sultry and desire don't fit Theodore, even in an alternative universe where Bruce Wayne become the Devastator instead of Batman. It just does not fit.

"Yeah, and you're my fav person."

They sit in silence for a while, but it's nothing wrong. The silent can be calming and comfortable, it can say more than every word in the world.

The air is getting cooler and owls' chirps become more ominous, so finally, Blaise breaks the silence and says:

"Theo" mentioned boy turns to him and glance at Zabini, "Is your knee still hurting?"

"It's not that bad" Theo shrugs but Blaise quickly understands that it's not good either, "But can you ride the bicycle? I'll drive on its carrier."

"But what with my skateboard?" Blaise asks inconvenience.

"I'll carry it, please" Zabini's only answer is a sigh but not the irritated one. He doesn't know what would Theo had to do to irritate him.

"Alright, but please, be careful."

Blaise raises Theo's bicycle from the ground and helps the boy to climb up to the luggage carrier and then he carefully sits on its seat. Theodore holds Blaise's skateboard (which he has named against his will — Faith) with one hand and the other one is embraced around Blaise's stomach so Theo can stably stay on the carrier. Well, maybe not only because of that.

"To me?" Blaise proposes and slowly leaves their place.

Theodore automatically nods but then he understands that Blaise can't see him so he quickly says 'yes' some times.

Boys are leaving, slowly and without unnecessary haste, but that moment is different than every previous one, they have spent here. Now, they're leaving their place not as just friends.

From Theodore Nott's album:

"4th of May, 1984 —

My favourite day to remember"

#harry potter #slytherin quidditch #bxb #slytherin quidditch team #blaise x theo #blaise zabini #theodore nott #zabini x nott #mrs zabini #muggle au #non magic au #retro #retro au #slytherin #slytherins #slytherin quartet #draco malfoy

[peaceoutofthepieces]

Title: Polaroid Memories

Square Filled: Family, Friendship, Birthday

Pairing: Jens Stoffels/Lucas VDH

Trigger Warnings: None

Created for @skamevents

because I wanted to share my birthday with my favourite boy and our little vds nation <3

~^~

Lucas wakes up slow. 

It’s something he’s becoming more and more familiar. His mind wakes before his body does, slowly processing his surroundings long before he opens his eyes. He wakes up surrounded in warmth, with a tingle shooting down his spine. There are lips on his cheek, moving down his neck, and strong, insistent hands splayed over his ribs, and he melts even further into the mattress. 

The hands roll Lucas onto his back, towards the warm chest behind him, as the lips find their way back to his cheek and then eventually his own, greeting him with a soft peck. Lucas chases it, lips finally twitching in a smile, and hears a low, throaty laugh that has his eyes flicking open. 

Jens rewards him with a grin and another kiss, deep and lingering, trailing more feathery pecks along his cheek before stopping to nip at his ear. “Good morning.” 

Lucas hums tiredly in response, arching into the other boy as Jens’s hands slip down his sides. Jens smiles against his skin, rolling to hover over him as Lucas trails his fingers up his back to thread them into his hair. Jens kisses him again, his weight pressing him into the mattress, and Lucas allows himself to melt, going boneless underneath him. Even when Jens pulls away, it’s only to immediately reattach his lips to Lucas’s skin, peppering sweet kisses all over his face. It leaves Lucas humming again, pleased. 

“Nice wake up call,” he murmurs simply. 

Jens pushes himself up just enough to get Lucas opening his eyes, patient as Jens wiggles his brows at him. “I hope you know to expect better than that.”

Lucas grins, letting his eyes fall shut again as Jens softly kisses his cheek. The kisses turn firmer, blazing, as Jens makes his way down Lucas’s chest and hooks his fingers in the waistband of his boxers. 

It’s only when Lucas is breathless and sated, feeling half-asleep again and flexing his fingers free of their tight grip in the other’s hair, that Jens nuzzles his way back up and plants a smacking kiss on his cheek with a cheery, “Happy birthday.”

~^~

Lucas never really liked his birthday. 

At least, never more than any other day. He only remembers vague patches of it from when he was younger, when his parents were still happily married and remembered to buy him cake and gifts and everything else. That lasted until he was around ten, when his mother’s episodes started becoming impossible to ignore, and Lucas found himself more often than not making her dinner on his birthday. He didn’t blame her at all, of course, but he did blame his father for a number of things. If he hadn’t been so ignorant and avoidant of his wife and his only son, she would have gotten her diagnosis and been treated much earlier, and maybe Lucas would have had birthday parties he could actually remember. 

He doesn’t hate his birthday, or anything, but it’s not a day that stands out, either. 

But it is different now. Now that he’s older, and living in Antwerp, in a flat with his boyfriend of two years with a much larger friend group. Now is different. 

Or at least, the morning is, until Jens climbs over his lap at the kitchen table and gives him an apologetic pout. “I shouldn’t have to work on your birthday. It sucks.” 

Lucas is already wrapping his arms around his waist, pulling him closer to tuck his face into his shoulder as he smiles. “Yeah, it sucks.”

“I am genuinely upset and you are turning every word into an innuendo.”

“Well, who’s fault is it that my mind has been on that path all morning?”

Jens sighs, mock aggrieved as he pets a hand through Lucas’s hair. “The answer to that better be me.”

Lucas laughs, lifting his head to pull Jens down and into a kiss. “Always you,” he mumbles. 

At least birthday kisses are a regular thing now, he thinks. He can very much get used to birthday kisses. 

Jens gives him a hundred in apology before he leaves, tracing his lips over every still-exposed piece of skin, comforting and loving and teasing all at once. In the end it’s Lucas forcing him out the door with a multitude of reassurances, unable to stave off one last kiss as Jens promises to make up for it, assuring him he’ll be back in the evening. Lucas, again, tells him it’s fine, because it is. 

He doesn’t hate his birthday. But he doesn’t really like the loneliness that usually seeps in along with it. 

It doesn’t matter, though, this year. It’s different. He has people around him who make it different. He has Jens. He can manage the loneliness for a few hours in the face of that, with the promise of what’s to come. 

~^~

Only, he isn’t even alone for an hour when there’s a knock on the door, and he has to distractedly look up from his sketch and wait to hear it again before it registers. Then he’s bounding off the seat and into the hallway, speed-walking to the door and pulling it up without even checking the peephole. 

He’s instantly engulfed in a bone-crushing hug, seconds before he’s greeted with, “Fuck, I missed you.”

“Kes,” he returns, surprised, ecstatic, wrapping his arms tightly around him in return. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t be fucking stupid,” Kes says, happy. “Happy birthday.” 

“Happy birthday,” another voice interrupts, even more excited than Kes had been, and Lucas laughs as Jayden pushes in through the doorway to wrap his arms around them both. 

Kes makes a short sound of protest, but wiggles his arm out to wrap around Jayden when Lucas does the same. He is surprised, but he supposes he shouldn’t be, supposes he should expect a gift like this at the very least. He only wonders how long they’ve been planning it, if he was meant to be left in the dark, if it was spontaneous or a given. Last year had been different, when Lucas was still living in Utrecht and it had been his eighteenth, when Jens and the Broerrrs had been the ones that had to get on a train and come join him. They’d thrown him a party, then, not at all secretly enough, and he’d enjoyed it. 

Now, living in Antwerp, and turning no particularly special age, he hadn’t expected it to be like that. He’d expected maybe a bar trip with the boys, at the very most, and would have been content with a quiet night in with Jens. But he can’t deny that he’s pleased at having Kes and Jayden turn up his doorstep, almost relieved to see his best friends. 

“How did you even get here?” Lucas asks, just as they finally break their little huddle and he catches sight of Sander in the hallway. The older boy grins in confirmation, giving a quick nod, and Lucas smiles widely in response. 

“Mr Grownup here was kind enough to meet us at the station,” Kes answers, reaching behind him to pull Sander in the neck, who shoves him away with a huff. “Well, well, kind might not be the right word.”

Sander gives a long-suffering sigh and turns a serious gaze on Lucas. “Bickering, the whole time. Really, the things I do for you Luc.”

Lucas doesn’t bother pointing out the short ten minute driving distance from the station, because he understands that ten minutes is more than enough. Instead he grins wider and reaches out to give Sander’s shoulder a grateful squeeze, tugging him further inside as he finally shuts the door. Kes and Jayden are already making their way to the sitting room, bags now slung over their shoulders. Sander lingers and waits for Lucas, then falls into step easily alongside him as they follow. 

He stops, however, in the doorway to the sitting room, watching Jayden drop his bag and flop onto the sofa in amusement. Lucas turns to him with a frown, realisation sinking in. “You’re not staying.”

Sander shakes his head, and raises his hand to jingle his keys. “Have another pick up to do. I’d say you get half an hour with these guys and then the rest want to see you. So, I’m not staying, but you won’t have to miss me too long.”

Lucas rolls his eyes and punches his shoulder lightly, and Sander laughs, skipping out of the way. “Just go get your boyfriend before you make a fool of yourself.”

Sander waves him off with a smile, turning back towards the room to call a very pointed, “You’re welcome.” 

The two dumbasses turn to him, Jayden from where he’s sprawled face down on the sofa and Kes from his perch on top of the other’s thighs. “Thanks, Sander,” they call back, genuine but still filtering off into laughter as Kes tips sideways and accidentally digs his elbow into Jayden’s back. 

Sander simply shakes his head, amused, and ruffles Lucas’s hair before heading back down the hallway, calling a goodbye over his shoulder. 

Lucas is left to turn back to his friends, just as Jayden is bucking his hips in an attempt to throw Kes off. Kes concedes, sliding to the opposite end of the sofa and letting Jayden pull his legs out from under him, shifting until he’s sat cross-legged and smiling at Lucas. He smiles back as they watch him, until eventually Kes raises his brows and pats the space beside him. 

Once Lucas has sat down, Kes is turning to Jayden with raised brows. “Do you have it?” 

Jayden blinks at him, lips parting. “I thought you were packing it.”

Lucas bites back a laugh as Kes’s expression instantly drops, eyes narrowing as a scowl forms on his lips. “I told you to bring it!”

“If you were literally talking about it why did you not bring it?” 

“Because I was in the shower!”

“Well maybe I was distracted, then.”

Kes tosses his hands up and Lucas does laugh now, as Jayden finally cracks and lets his lips pull up in a smile, a small giggle bubbling out of him as well. He punches Kes’s shoulder, much harder than Lucas had with Sander, and Kes winces away as his scowl deepens. 

“Such little faith in me,” Jayden complains, hoisting his bag onto his lap and digging through it. “Always so quick to believe I’ll let you down.”

Kes grimaces, shoulders slumping in instant apology as Jayden produces a tiny wrapped gift from his bag. “You were fucking with me,” Kes sighs. 

Jayden passes the package to Lucas before wiggling his brows and smacking a kiss to Kes’s cheek. “I’m always fucking with you.”

Kes rolls his eyes, but smiles, and Lucas mock gags, and only smiles when Kes smacks the back of his head. It’s weird, the whole thing. The Kes and Jayden thing. He supposes it’s made it worse, him not being there. He hadn’t really had a chance to watch it develop, hadn’t been able to catch on until he’d already missed months worth of change. He also hadn’t been there to get used to it, only witnessing this new dynamic in their visits back and forth. 

And yeah, it’s weird. 

But it’s not so weird that it isn’t manageable. In fact, sometimes Lucas almost forgets. They’re both tactile, naturally affectionate, but private in that way they all sometimes get in public. Lucas...well, honestly, Lucas isn’t really sure what their relationship is like. He just knows his friends are happy, and they’re still his best friends, and he can’t really make too much fun of them without getting it heaped on him in return. 

Kes hooks an arm around his neck now and jostles him, gesturing at the tiny gift still in his hands and saying, “Open it.”

Lucas doesn’t have to be told twice, curiosity consuming him as he tears at the sparkly wrapping paper. It’s more difficult than expected, the entire small square covered in tape, but eventually he manages to pull a side free. He grins as a small bag of weed slips out, catching it in his palm and tipping his head back. 

“I fucking love you guys,” he admits, and Kes and Jayden both laugh and comply as he holds his hand out for a fist bump. 

Jayden winks. “To give you and Jensy-boy a little birthday boost.” He wiggles his brows once more, whining in pain as Kes elbows him in the gut. 

Lucas simply wiggles his brows back. This time Kes supplies the mock gag. Jayden gives him a high-five. 

“How did you manage to plan this, anyway?” Lucas asks later, wedged between his two friends now as they share a joint. Jayden fiddles with the curls at the back of Lucas’s head with his feet drawn up on the cushion as Kes leans back with his leg strewn over Lucas’s. 

“What do you mean?” Kes tilts his head. 

“I mean, getting here, Sander picking you up, the gift…”

Kes and Jayden share a glance before shrugging and simply stating, “Jens.”

“We just messaged him and he helped us out. And Isa will watch Oscar literally whenever we ask. Think she likes his company,” Jayden says. 

“Think he likes her more than me,” Kes mumbles. 

Jayden makes a noise of protest, patting Kes’s leg comfortingly. “That’s not true. Isa just gives the best belly scratches. With you he just gets jealous.”

“Don’t think he’s the only one,” Lucas smiles, and Kes flicks the side of his head. “Seriously, though. I’m glad you guys are here.”

“Where else would we be?” Kes jostles his head. “We’d never miss a chance to celebrate our baby bro.”

Lucas’s smile widens. His parents stopped being good at even remembering his birthday a long time ago—but Kes was still always there. Kes has always been family, and with him came Isa and Jayden and even their broader group, Liv and Noah and Ralph and the girls. They’d all taken Lucas in at some stage, all welcomed him like family. 

They’re more than enough. 

~^~

“Okay, bro, I know it looks like we didn’t get you anything, but I swear we’re better than that,” Moyo promises, ten minutes into their group meeting at the skatepark. 

“Which is why we’re going to the cafe after and buying you a whole cake. Whatever one you want,” Aaron says, just as earnestly, and Lucas barely holds back a snort. 

“You guys don’t have to get me anything, really.”

“Yes, they do, or they don’t get shit from Jens on their birthdays,” Robbe teases, leaving both boys to turn and scowl at him, unable to do much more through the protective barrier of Sander’s arms. 

“And what did you get him?” Moyo scoffs 

Robbe rolls his eyes, patting Sander’s hands where they clasped on top of his chest. “Sander and I got him an awesome birthday gift. Which we’ll be able to give him if you two get off your asses and go join Kes and Jayden.”

“Lucas doesn’t think anything is better than cake,” Aaron argues, looking to Lucas for confirmation, who simply draws his shoulders up to his ears in a cheeky shrug. 

“Well there is that thing Jens does—“

“No, nope, no way,” Moyo smacks a hand over his mouth, shaking his head as Sander and Robbe laugh and Aaron looks on in confusion. “I love you, man, but for the sake of my sanity and ability to look either of you in the eye ever again, please don’t finish that sentence.”

Lucas doesn’t, but he does lick Moyo’s hand. 

Moyo curses and snaps his hand away, smacking the back of Lucas’s head for good measure before jogging off down the half pipe. Aaron follows him, thankfully without any more questions, and Lucas is left with the most sickening couple in Antwerp—who also happen to be his two best friends here. 

Robbe detached himself from Sander and moves to sit next to Lucas, giving his boyfriend a nod as Sander gets to his feet and moves back to the tree where they’d dumped their bags. “This is kinda more from Sander than me,” Robbe admits. “Idea and payment wise. So you should direct any thanks you have there.”

“I’m already thankful, Robbe,” Lucas says quietly. “It’s not,” he cuts himself off, tries starting again. He gestures at their friends across the park, laughing and falling more than they are skating and watches Robbe follow his gaze. “This, more than anything, I’m thankful for. I mean it when I say you didn’t have to get me anything.”

“And we mean it when we tell you we wanted to,” Robbe shrugs, offering him a gentle smile. He looks down at his feet, choosing his next words with care. “I kind of hated my birthday, for a while. It was the one day my parents would try to pretend everything wasn’t falling apart, and that I actually factored into any of what was happening. It usually still ended up with them screaming at each other. It made it...seem more like an inconvenience than something to celebrate.”

He turns his head to look up at Lucas again, squinting under the glare of the sun. “I know we’re not exactly the same, but,” he offers a small shrug, “I don’t think we’re that different?” 

Lucas swallows down the lump in his throat and nods, bumping his shoulder against Robbe’s. Robbe nods back and adds, “So I get what you mean. I love celebrating with Mama, when she’s capable, but...it’s dumb things like Sander making me breakfast that make it better. It just depends so much on the people around you and you have so many good people, Lucas. It’s like, your friends are your family. You know?”

Lucas can only nod again, blinking quickly as he looks down at his own lap and Robbe passes an arm around his shoulder, pulling him to his side for a brief moment. Lucas huffs a quiet, grateful laugh at the gesture, smiling back when Robbe looks at him and gives his shoulder another squeeze. 

“Jens was always a big part of making my birthday better, too,” Robbe adds, smile turning teasing. “So I’m sure with you…” he trails off suggestively. 

Lucas shoves his shoulder, heart softening at the giggles he receives in return, and then Sander’s back. He drops down on Lucas’s other side, meeting his boyfriend’s eyes for a brief, questioning second. Lucas understands the quiet communication, realises why it had taken him so long to go the few feet and return. 

Sander seemingly got whatever he was looking for, however, presenting Lucas with a package that is notably larger than the one he’d received earlier in the day. Lucas shoots a questioning glance between them before eagerly pulling the wrapping off at their nods, expression brightening as he catches sight of the contents. 

“No way,” Lucas says, awed, now holding the object with a much firmer grip. “A fucking Polaroid?”

He doesn’t know which boy to look at, glancing between both his friends rapidly as he takes it in. There’s a pleased, almost smug tilt to Robbe’s lips now, but he shakes his head at Lucas’s questioning gaze and nods proudly at Sander. “Like I said, all his idea.”

Lucas whips his grin to Sander, who doesn’t look as grateful for the credit as he should. His tongue is poking at his cheek, a habit Lucas has noticed, something he does when he’s unsure of himself. “I remember when you were looking at them in the shop and telling me how cool it would be, because you never learned to develop but these were easy, but I knew you’d never buy it for yourself, so. It’s not the best brand, but—“

Lucas cuts him off by throwing his arms around his neck in a hug, after passing the boxed camera over to Robbe’s careful hands. “It’s perfect, Sander,” he assures, pulling back with a tug to his dark hair. “Thank you.”

Sander’s shoulders lose their tension instantly, dropping in relief as he sports a content smile. 

Lucas takes the box back from Robbe and examines it more closely. “Do you think it’s safe enough to open here, or do I have to wait?”

“If we move back and sit with out stuff until you get it going, it should be safe enough,” Sander reassures. “There’s film and everything with it, ready to go.”

Lucas is hopping up before he’s even finished, muttering a happy, “Okay.” He grins eagerly at them until they stand and join him, Sander seeming to share his excitement as Robbe gives another gentle laugh. 

“I’ll leave you to the technical stuff and go make sure the others don’t die before you can get pictures of it,” Robbe says. 

“It’d be much appreciated,” Lucas agrees, managing the solemn tone for only a moment with his face too eager to express his joy. He and Sander get settled down under the shade of the tree, and Sander helps him gently peel back the bits of tape until he can get the camera out. 

“I can’t believe you got me this,” Lucas mumbles. “Even if it’s not the ‘best brand’. I didn’t expect anything this expensive.”

“It’s not about the expense,” Sander shrugs. “It doesn’t put me out much, especially with Robbe chipping in. I know you’d try to get me something I wanted, even if it was going to leave you struggling, so this is nothing.”

“It’s far from nothing, Sander. I didn’t even realise how much I wanted one of these. But you did,” he points out. “That’s...a lot.”

Sander shrugs again. Lucas isn’t sure he’s ever seen him look so bashful. “I know that you’ll have everyone giving you things today and your best friends are here and they probably know you better than I do, but...I thought it was important to give you something to help you remember all of it. It’s a lot of the reason I draw and take pictures when I get—well. When I go into overdrive. It’s harder to remember things, sometimes. I know that’s not a problem for you in the same way, obviously, but you do love to capture things and I thought this kind of fit even Jens’s vibe best and it just seemed like the right idea.”

There’s an immense pressure in Lucas’s chest that he can’t get rid of, an overflow of emotion that had been there since Robbe had started to speaking to him and now threatens to boil over. He can’t help but think how right Robbe is. He doesn’t know how he’s gotten so lucky, to have so many good people in his life. To be able to consider so many of his friends close enough to be family. 

Sander seems to grow more nervous the longer he stays silent, so he reaches out and places a careful hand on his arm. “It’s a brilliant idea. You know me just as well as anyone, if not better, obviously.”

It does the trick, Sander’s expression instantly softening back into a smile, still somewhat oddly shy. “Well, you probably are my best friend,” Ssnder says simply. Stating a fact. 

Lucas swallows down another lump in his throat and moves to hug him again. 

~^~

He really shouldn’t be surprised when he returns to the flat and finds it suspiciously dark, especially with Kes and Jayden giggling behind him. The others had all ditched them a while ago, Robbe and Sander disappearing first and Moyo and Aaron following not long after, making sure Lucas got every last bit of his cake. 

He really shouldn’t be surprised when he flicks the light on and is gifted with people jumping out from nowhere, yelling an almost simultaneous, “Surpirse!”

Kes and Jayden are also cheering behind him, pushing him forward as he laughs and his eyes make their way naturally to Jens, standing at the front of the room with a massive grin on his face. Lucas feels that usual tug towards him, feels himself being drawn easily into his orbit. Only, a force collides with his chest and holds him back, arms wrapping tightly around his chest as curls tickle his chin. 

“Happy birthday Luc,” Isa croons, squeezing him happily, and Lucas feels the bubble of elation in his chest grow as he hugs her back. 

“Thank you. What are you doing here? Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

Isa steps back to roll her eyes up at him, shaking him by the shoulders. “Well obviously, Luc, that would’ve ruined the surprise!”

Lucas grins at her, suddenly feeling bashful himself. His friends squeeze past him and he distantly hears Jayden squeal, “Jens!” He huffs a laugh as he watches the collision over Isa’s shoulder, catching sight of the girls and Milan and the boys, all back again. None of them are paying too much attention, letting him have his moment with Isa. 

He looks back down at her and his eyes widen as a sudden thought kicks in. “Isa, Oscar! You’re supposed to be taking care of him.”

“Obviously that was a lie, Luc. Liv and Noah have him. I needed some reason for not showing up with Kes and Jayden so I could sneak in here and set this up.”

Lucas blinks. “You set this up?”

Isa hums, smiling. “The decorations, yeah. Along with the girls and Milan, of course. Engel and Janna would’ve come, too, but Janna’s gone all week and Engel’s mom wasn’t too sure of the idea.”

“And Liv and Noah are dog-sitting,” Lucas grins. He doesn’t have to say he doesn’t mind, knowing Isa already knows. That he’s very happy his three best friends made the time for him, even with this new distance. It reminds him that no one’s really gone anywhere, that they’re still in his corner and any thoughts of losing them were ridiculous. He couldn’t get rid of them if he tried. 

Isa nods, smile turning cheeky, a trait the two of them have always shared. “But you have a lot of people here for you. Your very adorable boyfriend made sure of that.”

Lucas flushes, shoving her shoulder lightly as his eyes automatically trail around the room, finally catching on Jens. He’s still caught up in a conversation with Kes and Jayden, nodding along as Kes waves his hands around animatedly. He must notice Lucas’s gaze, however, casting around for him before finally meeting his eyes. His lips turn up in an easy smile, and he gives Lucas a small wave, and Lucas’s heart stutters stupidly in his chest. As if it isn’t used to Jens by now. As if Jens has never done far more to get his heart racing. 

He’s dragged out of his awe when Isa pinches his cheek, cooing at him again as he bats her away. She laughs, catching his hand to squeeze it fondly. “Go, put him out of his misery. He’s been rushing around for the past hour since he got back, as if we didn’t have everything ready for him,” she rolls her eyes, but her tone and smile are both still fond, and she pulls Lucas into another hug before letting him go. “I’m happy for you, Luc. We’ll catch up properly later, okay?” 

He nods at her and she pats his cheek, running off ahead of him to draw Kes and Jayden away, leaving Jens standing alone with an amused grin lighting up his face. He turns to Lucas slowly, expression softening as he takes him in, and Lucas finally moves towards him. 

Jens immediately envelopes him in his arms and presses a kiss to the top of his head, and this is exactly what Lucas has been waiting for all day. Just this. 

“What made you think I’d want a surprise party?” Lucas asks, voice muffled where his face is tucked into Jens’s shoulder. 

Jens hums, swaying Lucas slightly side to side. “I don’t know, maybe the fact that you like surprises, and parties, and me…”

“Oh and you’re the main event at this thing then, is that it?”

“Luc, I am always the main event,” Jens says, lifting his hands to Lucas’s shoulders and gently pushing him back enough to kiss him. His lips are still brushing Lucas’s as he speaks, voice low and teasing. “But only for you.”

Lucas hums, pulling Jens down by his grip on his neck, drawing him into another slow kiss as Jens’s hands smooth over his back. “Thank you,” Lucas murmurs. 

Jens smiles, sneaks a kiss to his cheek. “Always.”

Before Lucas can fall into him completely, there are a set of hands on his own shoulders, dragging him away from his boyfriend even as he protests, his own hands clenched in the collar of Jens’s shirt. Milan carefully plucks them away and steps in between them, smiling politely even as he gives Lucas a little shove. 

“Your lovely boyfriend isn’t going anywhere, but you have friends waiting to hug you and gifts waiting to be opened,” Milan says, seemingly genuinely apologetic. 

Lucas groans, but greets Milan with a kiss on the cheek before letting himself be led around the room. 

~^~

He’s exhausted by the time everyone leaves, dead on his feet in the kitchen as he empties the abandoned bottles of alcohol. He rubs at his eyes as arms slip around his waist from behind and a soft kiss is placed on the side of his neck. A smile takes over his face as he leans back into Jens’s warmth, tempted to turn around and curl into his hold and never move. 

“You shouldn’t be cleaning up, it’s your birthday,” Jens admonishes, taking the bottle from his grip and placing it on the counter. “I’ll do it tomorrow. It’ll be fine until then.”

Lucas hums, debating only for a few seconds before he gives in with a nod. He turns in his boyfriend’s hold to wind his arms around his neck, resting against his chest as he closes his eyes and lets out a tired breath. Jens hugs him for a moment, cupping the back of his head and keeping him close. 

“Did you have a good day?” Jens asks quietly. 

“Mmhm,” Lucas assures, smile spreading back over his face. “The best day.”

Jens huffs, chest shaking with silent laughter as he draws back and leads Lucas out of the room. “Okay, bedtime.”

Lucas is maybe, kinda, a little tipsy. And probably slightly high. But he knows these minor factors aren’t the source of his happiness. That it’s more to do with Kes and Jayden sprawled together on the pull-out sofa, already snoring lightly and completely forgoing the blankets Jens had left out for them. Isa had also been offered a spot, but she’d declined in favour of staying with Jana, who had an actual spare room to offer her. The rest of his friends had filtered out slowly through the night, Yasmina being the first to disappear with a sweet kiss to his cheek and Robbe and Sander being the last to linger, helping them make the place somewhat less of a mess. Or at least, they’d tried to, even as Robbe and Jens got distracted messing around with the streamers and Lucas had proudly been presenting his blurry polaroids to Sander. 

“Do you think we’ll have to buy a new sofa now?” Lucas sniffs, glancing suspiciously back over his shoulder at his friends’ still forms. 

Jens bites his lip to muffle his laugh. “No, I think the sofa will be okay.”

Lucas hums. “Okay. That’s good.”

He pauses in the doorway to their bedroom, leaving Jens to bump into his back as his eyes train on the bowl in the center of the bed. 

“Jens,” Lucas whispers. 

“Luc.”

“Why is there a dog bowl on our bed? Is this some kind of kink thing?”

Jens doesn’t bother muffling his laughter this time, and Lucas smiles as he rings it loud and unabashed next to his ear. Jens shakes his head and nudges him into the room until he can close the door behind them, pursing his lips in amusement as he turns Lucas to face him. “No. It’s not a kink thing. It’s entirely innocent, I promise.”

Lucas’s eyes widen. “You better not be fucking with me.”

“I didn’t get one,” Jens says quickly. “Because even though I wanted it to be a surprise, it’s ours, and I want you to have a say. Which is why I got a size and gender neutral bowl for now until I can take you to the shelter tomorrow.”

Lucas presses his hands to his cheeks, smushing them until his lips are ridiculously puckered. “I love you.” He kisses him, short repetitive pecks that start on his lips and move around the rest of his face. “I love you, I love you, I love you.”

Jens wraps him up again and squeezes him, seeking his lips out for a proper kiss before returning a sweet, “Happy birthday, Luc.”

#skamevents #skambingo #van der stoffels #vds #sobbe #kesden #yes i wrote myself a birthday fic #it's entirely self indulgent #vds fic #my fic

[sign-from-god-complex]

Summary: Roman hadn’t realised just how much his friends disliked his crush… or how much they disliked him.

Pairing: Roceit and one-sided royality.

Warnings: Unsympathetic Patton and Virgil, sympathetic Deceit, toxic friendships, brief unwanted flirting, implied fat-shaming. If you don’t want to read the fat-shaming, skip the paragraph starting with “Dee picked a cookie up off his lunch tray”, you won’t miss anything crucial.

A/N: I know this one is very outside the realm of what I’d normally write. I want it to be clear that I would never think the sides to be anything like what Patton and Virgil are like in this fic, I was simply in a Mood and this is what I felt like writing.

AO3 Link

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"He's so pretty I think I'm gonna faint."

Roman gazed across the cafeteria with verifiable hearts in his eyes, chin resting in his hand like a teenage girl in a romance novel. He let out a wistful sigh, watching Dee laugh at something Logan had said, delighting in the way his whole face scrunched up. He looked so happy.

Roman wondered what it would be like to be that happy.

Happy was easy in theory, sure. Roman was happy when he got a part in the musical, he was happy when he got a good grade or when he perfected his eyeliner just so. But… there was always some sort of… catch.

Roman was allowed to be happy about the musical but not too happy; his friends didn't get his love of the stage and they quickly grew bored of his excited rambling, pushing him to talk about the latest TV show or cute boys instead. He was allowed to be happy about good grades but not in front of the other students; only nerds got so excited about their grades, and Roman wasn’t allowed to be a nerd. He was allowed to be happy about his eyeliner but not in front of his family. Wouldn’t want to be too overtly queer, would he?

He was lucky to have what he had, he shouldn’t be wishing it away, but sometimes he just… longed to not have to worry about what people think so much.

Virgil rolled his eyes, letting out a huff. "Seriously, princey? You're still pining over that asshole? Move on already!"

Roman blinked, furrowing his brow. That was not the reaction he had been expecting. Sure, his friends had never really seen what he did in the other boy but they'd never been so callous about it before either. Usually, they replied to his lovesick rambling with noncommittal hums or vague agreements but this seemed frustrated, bubbling up and over like Virgil had been holding it back for a while. Roman wondered just how long.

"What?"

Patton sighed—patronising and exasperated—and Roman turned his confused look onto him.

"Look, Ro, we tried to be nice about it, but Dee's just so…" He screwed up his face in disgust. "Eugh. Him and that nerd do nothing but talk about sci-fi and their grades; they're so boring! Don't you think you could do better?"

Patton batted his eyelashes, painting on a smile that made Roman feel sick.

"Better?" he parroted and Patton simply hummed, sliding in closer and placing a hand on his thigh that had Roman jumping.

He stood up abruptly, staring down at Patton in disbelief. Where could this have possibly come from? Patton had never really shown any interest in him before! Sure, he'd been nice, but Patton was always nice; that sugar-sweet way of his became a bit overwhelming after a time, but Roman stuck through it. They were his friends after all, what was he supposed to do?

A quick glance at Virgil revealed no surprise, shock or distaste for Patton's actions, in fact, he seemed to be barely paying attention, scrolling through his phone with a bored look on his face. He had thought that Virgil would be the kind of person to jump to his rescue, but it appeared he thought wrong. He wondered how well he really knew the two of them after all. They’d seemed to have changed so much since they were happy little kids playing fantasy games in his backyard and Roman wasn’t sure it was for the better.

Only seeming mildly put out by Roman virtually flinching away from his touch, Patton turned those big, blue puppy-dog eyes on him, expecting him to just cave, sit down again and let Patton fuss all over him.

So, instead, Roman picked up his tray. 

"I don't know what's going on here but if you want to apologise to me, I'll be at Dee and Logan's table," he stated, tone sounding far more confident than he felt.

Patton's fake smile dropped into a glower, causing Roman to take a step back in surprise. "Oh, finally worked up the courage to ask out the snake bitch, huh?"

Roman didn't reply, far too much in a state of shock to do anything other than turn around and make the walk over to Dee's table. He could hear some of the other students around him commenting on his actions—those close enough to eavesdrop jumping around to their friends on other tables to share the story—but Roman just ignored them. He'd gotten used to the gossip that came with being "popular" a long time ago. Though, that's not to say he wouldn't be happy to lose it.

He came to a stop at the side of Logan and Dee's table, finding himself too self-conscious to speak up as he listened to them debate the merits of selfish actions. It was horribly nerdy and terribly endearing and Roman honestly would have been happy to stand there all day if his arms weren't beginning to get tired.

He cleared his throat, watching as both of the table's occupants froze almost immediately, turning to face him "Hi."

There was a moment of silence—Roman shuffling his feet awkwardly—before Logan decided to speak up.

"Roman Prince." Xe regarded him with a kind of startled concern, looking slightly caught out, but Roman just gave a nervous smile. "Are you… in need of something?"

Roman let out a breath, somewhere between a laugh and a sigh. "Um, my friends were just being—" he struggled for the right word for a moment before finally settling on—"dicks. They were being dicks. Um… and I was wondering if I would be able to sit here, instead?"

Roman watched as a dark blush rose to Dee's face, a sort of frightened look in his eye that had him glancing over to Logan for some sort of reassurance. Logan, however, seemed to be poorly concealing a smirk and clearly was not going to be of any assistance to him. Roman tried not to be too concerned about what that look meant.

"I believe that would be acceptable," xe said, grabbing xyr bag off of the seat beside xem so he had a place to sit down. Roman let out a rush of air as he did so, dropping his tray with a thunk as he watched Dee glare at Logan slightly, though he could tell it held no real animosity.

Dee picked a cookie up off his lunch tray, nibbling on it nervously and Roman couldn’t help but smile. He wondered if he’d be able to get a caramel slice with his lunch tomorrow. They were always his favourites but eventually, he’d given in to the disapproving looks from his friends whenever he’d get one. Somehow, he didn’t think that was going to happen here.

“So,” Logan broke the silence, directing xyr gaze at Dee though cutting xyr eyes over to Roman for a brief moment, “How did you do on your most recent history assessment?”

Dee scrunched up his nose. “Ugh, a B minus. And I actually tried on that one too.”

Roman remembered that project, it was actually a rather creative one—something he greatly appreciated. “Write a diary entry from the point of view of someone in a particular historical period, including appropriate language and presentation”. He’d ended up choosing the Elizabethan era, flaunting his fairly in-depth knowledge of Shakespearian language to paint a rather delightful and dramatic love story in 3 or so pages of text. It had been all written out by hand too, utilising the ink pens he’d been given by his mother for his birthday a few years back.

He’d been extremely proud of that piece of work but all his friends had said was, “That’s nice, Roman,” and “Cool,” like he’d been telling them his boring weekend plans and not showing them something he was really pleased with. He’d been put out by that, sure, but… he’d supposed maybe it just hadn’t been as good as he’d thought it was.

“Roman?”

Roman jerked his head up to see both Logan and Dee looking at him in a questioning manner. “Hmm?”

“I was asking how you did on your history assessment,” xe reiterated, spearing a piece of pasta with xyr fork, “I’m under the impression that the two of you are in the same class.”

They were, in fact. The first time Roman had seen Dee sitting in the classroom on that first day of the year, sticking out his tongue in concentration as he sketched something in a notebook, Roman had nearly walked into the doorframe in a gay panicked mess. Of course, nobody else needed to know that.

Roman ducked his head shyly. “Oh, uh, I got an A.”

He was already preparing to dismiss the topic to move onto something else—something more palatable than Roman bragging about his grades—but Dee’s voice interrupted him.

“Roman, that’s brilliant.” His face was impressed—proud—and Roman’s eyes widened, hope flooding his chest despite his best efforts to suppress it. “I mean, I worked for weeks straight on that thing and I barely got above average.”

Roman flushed at the praise, trying not to preen too much at the way Dee was looking at him. It made something in his chest flip-flop around and he bit at his lip to try and hide the smile that was taking over his face.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” he laughed, “I, uh- I always liked history, especially the classics. There are just so many incredible stories and the language is gorgeous and it’s always so much queerer than historians claim. I mean-”

Realising he’d been about to start rambling, he cut himself off abruptly, snapping his mouth shut and flushing in embarrassment. Stupid. He couldn’t scare them away before he’d even gotten the chance to know them. Logan regarded him with a curious look, seemingly confused by his actions; Dee, however, gave him a sad sort of smile.

“Ro?” Roman met Dee’s eyes—kind and understanding, aware of how it felt to be talked over and ignored and dismissed—and softened slightly. “We would adore hearing about why you love history so much. Wouldn’t we, Logan?”

The look Dee was giving xem was unidentifiable to Roman, however, Logan seemed to know exactly what he was trying to convey as xe raised xyr eyebrows slightly, nodding xyr head. “Of course, yes.”

Roman studied them for a moment, trying to gauge their sincerity.

He’d never believe Dee to be all that malicious. Was he opinionated? Sure. Was he selfish? Almost definitely. He prioritised himself and his wellbeing and the only time Roman had ever seen him go out of his way was for Logan and he should be appalled by that behaviour, except… Roman sort of… admired him for it?

It’d been a long time since he’d done something purely for himself. So many of his actions were performative. Restrained. Suppressed. And, with that in mind, he gave one last glance between Logan and Dee and, for the first time in years, Roman let himself talk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

General tag list: @mutechild @super-magical-wizard @shadowsfromthesun @teadays @lovelylogicality @mctaetae613 @autism-goblin @deadlyhuggles6 @romanthestarstruckqueer @whispers-stuff-in-your-ear @that-one-sunfish-with-a-wig-on @sanders-and-sides @spirits-in-my-thoughts @hhhhhhhhhhfjaskfsagfhasfgdsakfsa @autistic-virgil @happysingingturtles @figurative-falsehood @jadedfantasies231 (and @dr-gloom you asked to be tagged!)

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roceit #roman sanders #deceit sanders #sympathetic deceit #logan sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #unsympathetic patton #unsympathetic virgil #lo can write #1500 milestone #I feel it's probably important to point out this has a happy ending #well for ro anyway #and in this fic that's what matters

[ghostofstudentspast]

Hi! Thanks for opening up ship requests. What can you do with a 5'4 slim athletic fem in ♥with water and art. Shes not that tall but all her friends are short so shes always considered as the tall strong leader friend who everyone goes to for advice and then has to bendkindadown for everythingll get better hugs while she doesnt mind she secretly wants to be the one standing on her tippytoes to give a hug. Some ppl consider her stubborn n intimidating(she has those eyes)but friends knw otherwise

*not my gif*

I ship you with Draco Malfoy! Both of you give off an intimidating vibe but we all know you just need the right person to see past that.

- Draco isn’t often nice, so when he knocks into you it’s peculiar for him to scoop up your dropped books and hand them back with a small smirk.

- Blaise and Theo start noticing how everytime you’re around, Draco stands up a little straighter, acts a little nicer. Just a little.

- It wasn’t rare to see you and your little group roaming the grounds. Often scattered about with books in hand, usually you’d be drawing while your friends read. He noticed the way you’d duck your head to talk to your friends, he found it funny considering you were much shorter than him.

- When you started talking he’d do the same, ducking down ever so slightly to be closer. At first he did it as a joke but once he saw how it made you blush he continued doing it with a shit eating grin on his face.

- Draco was witty and flirty with you, something about your attitude reminded him of himself and he desperately wanted to get under the mask you presented to the world. You were stubborn, fine he’d be stubborn back.

- Eventually he’d get under your skin, finding ways to make you laugh and enjoying the way your eyes sparkled when you looked at him.

- Now you’d sit by the lake, leaning against a tree, side by side with the blond boy. He’d read and you’d sketch. More times than not he’d be the subject of your drawings these days. Something about the curve of his lips and the sharp angles of his jaw had you coming back for more.

- For your birthday he bought you a magical sketch pad including pencils, draw on it and your lines would come to life. Moving about the page just like wizard photographs. It was the nicest gift anyone had ever given you so you launched yourself into his arms, standing on your tippy toes to hug him. His arms fit perfectly around your waist.

- It was clear to everyone how fond Draco was of you, doting on you like a boyfriend long before you actually started dating. He was even worse after.

- Draco’s love language is gifts, so of course he’d buy you things everytime he saw something that reminded him of you. Whether it was flowers or a book or even just a new quill in your favourite colour, if he thought you would like it he’d buy it.

- While in public he’d still mostly present the Malfoy front, in private he was quick to melt into your soft touches and loving words. To the rest of the world you might have been intimidating but together you were just as happy as could be.

#Im a simp for draco #harry potter #ship request #slytherin #ravenclaw #june’s 50 celebration

[best-science-dad-tony]

Are you all still active? And do you accept oc rp accounts or only canon based ones?

((Oh boy.

So here’s the thing...I’m probably not going to give these blogs quite the attention I did in the beginning, and I should explain why because you all deserve that.

At first, I didn’t think these things would go anywhere. I figured they’d be fun to play around with, banter, get some jokes in and see a few likes, maybe a reblog or two. But then they started gaining traction, and before I knew it, people were invested in my silly little accounts.

I wrote down a quick sketch of a plot and some ground rules for myself, rules that I intended to follow. I essentially wrote a post-Endgame story before Endgame after I saw Infinity War incorporating the elements I wanted to see in the next movie. At the time I was one person. No one was helping me. I knew I wanted to tell a story you all could participate in and enjoy, and to do that I thought it was best if I laid out a groundwork for myself on ways to do that. Things like resolving to answer every Ask, even if it was just to warn the person to stop what they were doing. To adopt every kid (at first that wasn’t on Anon but then I gave in). To give you guys Milestone rewards as thank yous, because even when I just hit fifty subscribers on Tony’s blog, I was ecstatic and appreciated you all so much, and felt like you deserved something so I could show you my gratitude. Unfortunately, before they went up...someone forced me to use one I wasn’t expecting. Literally right after I had made the rule for myself.

I told myself that if anyone found an Infinity Stone, it would be the one Tony had.

The Soul Stone.

I needed the Soul Stone for the plot to work, but I needed Tony to have a safety precaution around it too since Thanos was (is?) still alive. I told myself that if someone found out Tony had the Stone and wasn’t supposed to, he would have a way to protect it. So I had to use the solution I gave him: FRIDAY sending the Stone to an unknown planet with one of the Iron Man suits and promptly wiping her databanks of its location so Thanos or anyone else would be unable to find it. 

So someone found an Infinity Stone...and it was just...gone. Before I’d figured out how Tony would get it back.

My fellow Admins all know this. I can’t begin to tell you how many discussions I’ve had with them trying to write myself out of this hole. Usually, I’m pretty good at getting characters out of seemingly impossible situations...but I haven’t come up with anything that feels believable, that I feel like justifies the plot I have in mind or really respects the characters and who they are.

Normally I would have just gotten rid of the plot point of the Soul Stone being lost completely...but this isn’t an unfinished chapter in my Google Docs. It already happened. I can’t change it.

I don’t know if you guys have read Mercy by Stephen King or watched the movie, but it makes an excellent point that I strongly agree with:

Annie Wilkes : When I was growing up in Bakersfield, my favourite thing in the whole world was to go to the movies on Saturday afternoons for the Chapter Plays.

Paul Sheldon : [nodding]  Cliffhangers.

Annie Wilkes : [shouting]  I know that, Mr. Man! They also called them serials. I'm not stupid ya know... Anyway, my favourite was Rocketman, and once it was a no breaks chapter. The bad guy stuck him in a car on a mountain road and knocked him out and welded the door shut and tore out the brakes and started him to his death, and he woke up and tried to steer and tried to get out but the car went off a cliff before he could escape! And it crashed and burned and I was so upset and excited, and the next week, you better believe I was first in line. And they always start with the end of the last week. And there was Rocketman, trying to get out, and here comes the cliff, and just before the car went off the cliff, he jumped free! And all the kids cheered! But I didn't cheer. I stood right up and started shouting. This isn't what happened last week! Have you all got amnesia? They just cheated us! This isn't fair! HE DID'NT GET OUT OF THE COCK - A - DOODIE CAR!

Paul Sheldon : [long pause]  They always cheated like that in cl... chapter plays.

I don’t want to cheat you all. As arrogant as it might sound, I think I’m a better writer than that. And you all certainly deserve better than that.

When I went to see Endgame (in full Tony Stark cosplay, might I add), I hoped to find inspiration to continue. And let’s just say that ending killed a part of me and I’m still dealing with nightmares and panic attacks over it. My mom asked me if I wanted an Avengers cake for my 22nd birthday and I burst into tears. I just...I can’t handle it right now.

But I recently got my inspiration back for this plot. I remembered how much I loved my ideas, the little timeline I had laid out for myself. I remembered how much fun it was for Tony and Stephen to interact with their kids, for Thor and Loki to talk to Midgardians. I remembered how much fun it was to use obscure ships. And I want to do it. For those reasons, I want to come back to it. I want to see that plot through to the end of the line, whatever that may be.

So I’ve added some elements, and I’ve decided to go in with firmer rules than I had at the beginning, where I would let anyone tell Tony and Stephen “yeah, so...I’ve been stabbed, ‘sup with you guys lol”.

The catch is...it won’t be on these blogs.

It would mean going through everything on them and pretending it didn’t happen, which hardly seems fair, especially when so many people still like and reblog some of my more popular posts. It doesn’t seem fair to just throw all of that away.

Like I said, I don’t want to cheat you, and doing that feels like cheating to me.

So instead I’m starting over. I’m in the process of setting up new blogs, a new Discord server, and I’m working with my Admins to put these new blogs into place.

The other big twist is...I won’t be advertising them here.

I don’t want you all to think I don’t value and appreciate all your kindness and support.

But I don’t want you all to join those new blogs just because I made a joke on Bucky’s account (in this set of blogs) that you liked. I want you to join because you’re invested, because you enjoy the interactions, because you like my writing for what it is and not just because it’s me typing it. It’s the same reason I have a separate AO3 account I never share.

I feel proud when people come to these blogs and see Tony confronting Steve and find out I was writing both of them, not bouncing off a fellow Admin.

I hope I don’t sound ungrateful. I’m swear not. But I want the new blogs to earn their following just like these did. You all saw something in these blogs, whether it was a joke, some advice; something that meant something to you. Maybe you saw family. Maybe you saw a friend. I don’t know. But I sincerely hope that whatever it was, I earned that follow from you. That I earned those likes and reblogs of my own volition.

All I ask of you is if you want to see where these new blogs will go, if you want to follow them, if you find them, please, don’t spoil what will happen for any newcomers who join the ranks. Certain plotpoints will carry over. I want any new fans to be as invested and surprised as you were.

Maybe one day I’ll tell you where the plot moved if you can’t find it and you want to know the big picture. Maybe you’ll just unfollow me or ignore the fact that I’m working on something else.

But I’m not going to just up and abandon these blogs. For a long time, they meant something to me, and at least to some of you. They’ll stay up, and I’ll answer your asks and engage with you. I can’t speak for the other Admins. But with me, you’ll always have someone to message, even if I take forever. But no more nitty-gritty plot. We’ll say Thanos got tired of holding Quill prisoner and fucked off somewhere. These blogs are now just for lighthearted family fun.

This is a long-winded rant to say that yes, I am still active in some ways, and I’m not in others.

As for OC accounts, they have always been welcome, but they don’t get put on the Masterlist or get OC-centric plots. Just be sure to follow certain rules- like Tony having no biological children.

I’m sorry for the rant.

TL;DR: I’m making new blogs to write this plot as I originally intended, but these will stay up and you can message them (at least mine). Also, OCs are cool and always welcome. ~Admin Chara))

[everly-kindred]

Eve’s Diary - Entry #62

Date: 24th of April, 2027

Dear Diary, 

A lot has happened and… Once again, a lot of it is bad. It’s a different kind of bad this time, though. Something completely new. I think I… have a bully now? So I’ve been kinda putting off writing because I’ve not really had the want to, and I’ve been in a bit of a funk because of it. So this entry might be kinda long.

I guess I’ll go to the beginning of the week. I think Tom and Abe and Aloy were in a fight, there was something about kissing and boyfriends and… I dunno. A bunch of older year drama, I guess. I was walking through the halls at one point and even saw Aloy on top of Tom with her wand pointed at him. But after Arithmancy, they came out of the classroom all laughing together and stuff, which seemed to really bother Everett… so i don’t really know what’s going on. Especially since she and Everett seem just fine as of yesterday, anyways.

Marigold showed me the paper at lunch, where they had done an article about Hogsmeade and the fire. It showed a picture of her aunt Taffy standing outside of Honeydukes with a man in a cowboy hat comforting her. I told her he seemed sweet. She’s anxious to meet him, says she hasn’t met her aunts long-lost boyfriend yet. 

I caught up with Ruby and it felt as good as it did when we’d talk during summer. Turns out he’s not going to Bulgaria, so we’ll get to hang out this summer! And we’re also gonna study together to make sure we’re both ready for exams. We also talked about flowers, I conjured some more for him and told him he should show me that one flower (that I don’t know how to say or spell) that he said was his favourite. And we talked about how happy he seems during quidditch. I think he’s made good on the promise me made with me on New Years.

Ressy wrote O’Keeffe about learning mermish, and O’Keeffe wrote back asking for her to come to her office, and that she could bring me. She was all worried about it, and it was really cute. I knew that it was about O’Keeffe’s tutoring thing she invited me to do, though. So Ressy and I went to her office - which was absolutely HUGE and beautiful, by the way! - through a shortcut in a portrait, and then she got invited to join us. Of course, I haven’t been to one yet because I sort of forgot where it was, and O’Keeffe pointed that out and asked why… so when I told her why, she thought it was funny. I… think I’ve forgotten where she said to go and what the password was again, so hopefully Ressy remembered…

In herbology we dealt with belladonna and venomous tentacula, and even talked about Edna a bit since she is one, and there was some outburst Casey had about something Talula had said and I think they were talking about Everett and Aloy but I’m not sure… I’ve been able to care for all of the plants in my year so at least I know I’m prepared for the practical portion of Herbology - actually the practical portion of everything, it’s just the written tests I’m scared of now. 

In Defense Against the Dark Arts we did some exercises. Tomorrow is the Boggart class. I was able to do some of the exercises but I felt sick and ended up sneaking away while everyone was moving around. 

I had Dragonology with Ruby, and we passed notes and cute drawings to each other. I showed him this magic ink I have that lets you make moving sketches so we drew little stick figures back and forth to each other. 

In Astronomy, we did stargazing in the Great Hall for these…. Comets or meteors, I don’t remember which (I was really sleepy) and I drew a picture of a dragon that… either eats comets or spits comets. It’s kinda up to whoever is looking at it to decide. 

They’ve announced the summer tourney for dueling club, and in Artificer Club, the Head Boy took over and had us work on decorations for it. I practiced levitating a crystal fairy, and he had me do all these spells and moves. I had a hard time at first, but eventually I got the hang of it… after breaking the fairy twice, anyways. So he had me levitate it, flick it in the air, shower it with sparks and then scourgify it, before catching it with the levitation spell again. It was… really hard to do. But I got it!

I also “met” a housemate of mine that I’m not really familiar with, named Levi. I think they’re a second year? Me and Levi and Aures were talking in a courtyard when Tom, Arthur and some other people showed up. We had been talking about what to name Levi’s rat when Tom asked Ressy if Arthur could ride the clockwork unicorn I’ve borrowed from Bonnie and had following me around since… well…

I guess I should explain about the bullying situation. 

So we had transfigurations class. Aures told me her birthday was July 27th and we talked about our favourite flowers and practiced orchideous some more. That was when things started getting weird. Octavia was sitting behind me, and she threw a paper ball at my head, so I thought she needed something. But when I turned around and asked her, she told me to shut up. And then the professor told us to stay after class and told her to apologise to me, so she lied and said it was meant for Aures and apologised to her…

Anyways, I was freaking out, but then it turns out it was just the professor letting me know she got my extra credit and to tell my parents she said hi. So I booked it out of there, didn’t look at Octavia at ALL because I wanted to forget all of this had happened. 

So then me and Aures walked around the castle, and we talked about our ambitions and stuff. About her working with water creatures and me maybe writing fairytale plays or making wands or something. But then, Octavia found us and started shouting at me! So we got into this whole fight about it with her saying all these horrible things about me and Ressy - like how I have Ruby ‘fooled’ but I won’t fool her and she called Ressy things like beast and stuff. And then she tried to slap me! But I was able to grab her wrist before she could reach my face, and I told her to never talk that way again to us. 

And then she left, muttering something about how brave I’ll be when Ressy’s not there, which… I don’t know. We ran to the Great Hall, both of us were crying but the rain kind of hid it a bit. Essa and Jo and Ruby tried to ask what was wrong, but I lied and said we’d stepped on a toad. 

I didn’t want to like… I mean, I guess I’m worried if I tell, people will be even more mean to her and it’ll just give her more reason to keep being horrible to me? I don’t want her to go after me for being a tattle. I didn’t want any of this at all! The only thing I can think of as to WHY she’s as mad at me as she is is because I beat her in our duel… Ruby said to take it as a win, but I really think it was just luck, and now I wish it hadn’t happened at all. I’ve never done anything to her!

I guess I’m glad I stood up for myself at least. Talula and Casey told me to not travel alone and they think I should tell someone because they don’t believe she’ll ever change but… she’s young! We all are! We all have time to change and get better, and I don’t wanna take away that chance from her… 

And if I tell Ruby, would he stop wanting to be friends with her? Wouldn’t that just make it worse? But if I don’t tell him, Octavia might somehow turn him against me… I can’t lose my best friend, especially when I didn’t do anything wrong. I don’t know what to do. I wish she’d just forget about me, but I’m nowhere near old enough to know any memory charms. And even if I did, it seems wrong to mess with someone’s memories. But… if I did know it, I honestly probably would just wipe myself from her brain entirely. I saw her again in Charms class, but I refused to look at her. 

I don’t know. All of it makes me want to cry again. I talked to Murina again, and I met her sister Sabrina, and I asked them about what prank items I should order if I wanted to make a quick get away - like, if Octavia catches me alone. But they sort of convinced me I should tell a professor too. Everett even said I should tell Professor Rask, since she’s the Slytherin Head of House. 

I’m not sure what I’ll do. For now, I’ve been walking around with Bonnie’s clockwork unicorn sort of to protect myself, and I’ve been trying to stay close to friends. I’m glad it’s almost summer. Maybe once school ends she’ll stop thinking about me. Up until this point, I never even thought about her, and now I feel like she wants to kill me or something! And I don’t understand why…

Anyways, Magical Theory is soon. I’m going to find some Hufflepuffs and head to class, and think about the fairytale play I want to write. I don’t think it’ll be a musical, unless Ressy helps me with writing music to go with lyrics...

Much love, Everly

[ Eve’s Wiki Page ] 

[ Flickr ] 

#harry potter #diary #secondlife #witch #hufflepuff

[leswansong]

Chapter Six - Adrinette April - Notes for You

Day 6 - Secrets

Read it on A03? –> [ Click Here ] 

Adrien had his own secrets, using his abilities as Chat Noir to sneak out of the large lavish mansion without his father's knowledge was one being a famed hero of Paris was another, he had many and now sneaking out at night to Marinette’s balcony was one. He shivered his way over to her, the image of her falling down the stairs haunted his dreams, he needed to make sure that she was okay. He reached the brick chimney above her room and flung open the wooden trap doors, he was greeted by her peaceful sleeping face, she was fine, she was okay, she wasn’t hurt, well she was but she was starting to heal, the plaster on her arm would make sure of that. Adrien slowly closed the wooden doors and walked over to her lawn chair and let out a sigh, he leaned back in the chair and looked out over the sleepy city, his eyes slowly fluttered shut and before too long he was fast asleep.

—————

Marinette stared out across the streets of Paris, the soft pink hues of the rising sun had set of a sombre feeling to the air, her sketchbook sat discarded on the wooden table behind in favour of the view, there was the slight smell of rain left in the air from the wild storm the night before. She cradled her left arm against her chest still not used to the plaster, she took a sip from the warm cup of hot chocolate, it was her only solace in the cold morning air as a soft breeze of cold air washed its way over her, she shivered slightly but stayed watching the winter sunrise, it was no secret that she loved mornings like this when she was able to wake up for it, the atmosphere made her sports come alive, a few birds chirped off in the distance a small indication of the spring that was about to come. The small chimney behind her billowed smoke, her parents were awake and had started making the sweets and baked bread for the day, she smiled as she thought about her parent's happy memories flooded back.

Her thoughts changed back the sleeping masked figure one her lawn chair behind her, she didn’t know when he showed up on her balcony, she suspected that it was some time during the night, she could ask Tikki but she didn’t want to accidentally wake the boy, he had given her quite the shock when she first climbed up having almost dropped her mug, she had quickly noticed that the boy had been shivering in his sleep and with a little bit of Tikki’s help she had quickly wrapped him in her largest and warmest blanket even though spring was approaching and the morning had warmed up a lot from the snowy depths of the winter months. She didn’t know what had drawn him to her small balcony, the two had only had a handful of conversations in the past and she struggled to speak to him when she was in and out of the suit but she didn’t dwell on that, the hero looked peaceful as he lay fast asleep and a lot warmer now. The more she stared at him the more Marinette could feel her cheeks grow warmer from the brush that was starting to form across them. She had kept her feelings for the blond hair superhero, it was one of her only two secrets that she had kept from her friend and she kept it safely guarded only Tikki knew the truth. She reached over to her sketchbook and pencil and started to sketch the sleeping form.

She didn’t want to wake her sleeping partner but she didn’t know his schedule and she needed to head down to the bakery to help out before the mid-day rush, she sighed and reluctantly put down her sketchbook, she walked over him and gently started to shake him slightly.

“Chat Noir, you need to wake up.”

“Ladybug?” he asked, his voice muddled with sleep.

She shook her head then realised he couldn’t see her.

“Chat, you need to get up, I have to head downstairs.”

“5 more minutes please.”

“Sorry, Chaton but you need to.”

“No…” he rolled over in an attempt to get away from her.

“Come on,” she said grabbing hold of one of the corners of the blankets and lightly pulled, “Its time to start the day sleepy head.”

She heard some of the fabric covering the duvet rip most likely from where his claws had dug in but she kept pulling until she had all of the blankets within her grasp, she dragged the blanket over to her trap door and dropped it on her bed bellow, she looked back at her partner to see he was now shivering in the fresh morning air.

“Chat if you get up I’ll give you the blanket back.”

The hero’s eyes slowly opened, he looked around the rooftop until his eyes finally fell on Marinette, “I… I can explain.”

“I’m- I’m sure you can, but I think you should go, the bakery will open in a few minutes and if someone sees you leave here, I don’t want you seen people will get the wrong idea.“

He placed a hand on her shoulder, her heart felt like it was about to leap out of her chest, “Okay…” he jumped up onto the balustrade and extend his baton.

“Wait! You can come back tonight if you like… To explain I mean.”

He smiled before giving her his signature salute, “See you then Princess,” and with that, he was gone.

Marinette let out a groan, that had to be the most awkward conversation she had ever had she planted her face in her hands in shame.

“Come on Marinette it wasn’t that bad,” her Kwami tried to reassure her.

“It sounded like I was trying to kick him out.”

“I’m sure he understood what you were actually trying to do.”

“Trying to get rid of him…”

“Mari… you need to stop beating yourself over this and similar cases.”

“It’s really hard Tikki.”

“I know and I help you get over this, Come on, you promised to help your parents.”

————

Marinette slowly wiped down the exterior of the glass case, getting rid of the sticky fingerprints of the children that had just been it the store.

She felt someone bump into her she turned around to apologise, “Adrien?” She stated in surprise, “How’d you get out of the house Nino said your father had essentially grounded you.”

He beamed at her, “Can you keep a secret?”

“I uh…”

“I snuck out my bedroom window, he doesn’t know about it yet and I would like to keep it that way.”

“So why are you here?”

“I came to see if you were okay, I didn’t get to talk to you after we left the hospital.”

“Awww, that's sweet but I’m fine Adrien,” she reached over the counter to ruff up his hair, “You’d head back, I remember the last time you did something like this your father tried pulling you out of school.”

“Worth the risk to be free of that bedroom.”

“Really?”

“Yeah and besides I think it's about time for some teenage rebellion.”

“Good Luck with that so what can I get you?”

“Marinette do you really have to ask?”

“Right,” she replied walking back behind the counter setting down her spray bottle and cloth, “Chocolate croissant, your favourite,” she slipped on a pair of plastic gloves, she picked up a pair of tongs and a brown paper back stuffing several croissant in the bag and even more when his back was turned.

“And how much is this time.”

“The same as it always is Adrien, free.”

“One day you’ll accept my money.”

“You’ll just have to wait and see then, now go home!” she yelled after him as he walked out the bakery door knowing that he wouldn’t listen.

She watched his long hair through the windows as he headed off in the direction of home, maybe she was wrong maybe he did listen to her, she smiled to herself as she returned back to her work, she slipped off the gloves dumping them into the bin that was safely hidden behind the bakery counter, she looked around for her spray bottle before realising that she had left it behind the counter.

——————

Adrien sat down on the park bench watching the carousel go round and round, the children screamed in delight as the wheel slowly got faster, he opened his bag of pastries to find more than what he thought he saw Marinette put in, he shrugged his shoulders, he really loved that girl at times, he took one out and bit into it, warm chocolate coated his tongue, he hummed in appeasement, he took another bite and soon the croissant was gone, he went to reach into the bag to grab another one when a crowd of people caught his gaze. He stuffed the back into his shirt and took off in the opposite direction of the crowd. He saw where they had run from an underground mall, he quickly descended the stairs, the storefronts had been smashed and the floor was now dripping wet, ‘Maybe there was a burst pipe…’ He explored deeper into the winding halls of the mall, the lights flickered above him, he could see a figure hiding behind a wall peering out at something, he followed their gaze and his eyes fell upon the Akuma, they were surrounded by a giant ball of water hovering in mid-air, the only thing that he could compare it to was the boring scene in ‘Revenge of the Sith.’ He stealthily moved up beside the figure hoping it was Ladybug.

But alas it was not, “Marinette what are you doing here?” he asked in surprise.

She looked at him in shock “Adrien? What- What are you-.”

He cut her off, “That doesn’t matter we need to get out of here,” he looked back at the Akuma, he hoped Ladybug would be able to handle it for a few minutes.”

He grabbed hold of her right arm pulling her out of cover and towards the door dodging several large balls of water in the process.

“What were you thinking! It’s a water Akuma you can’t get your cast wet.” He yelled back at her still pulling her along.

“I had to get something.”

“What?” He shouted angrily.

“Fabric for your Birthday present,” she mumbled.

He paused to look at her, his mouth formed a silent o at the revelation, “We need to get you home before your parents start to worry.”

“Don’t… Don’t tell them that I was near the Akuma, I told them that I was going to Alya’s.”

“As long as you don’t tell my father that I was here as well then it’ll be our little secret.”

“Deal.”

“We have to get you home,” he grabbed hold of her arm again, his girl on her was now a little more relaxed and Marinette easily kept pace with him, they rounded a corner and the three-story apartment and bakery came into view, he quickened his pace to reach it quicker.

“What about you?” she asked.

“I can easily sneak back into my room,” he technically wasn’t lying, he definitely wasn’t planning on heading back there just yet but he didn’t want to worry her by saying anything else.

“Are you sure, I have-“

“I’m sure Marinette,” the two stopped outside the front door to her home, “Please go inside.”

“Fine… You better go home.”

“I Will,” he waved goodbye and started to run in the direction of home to appease her before taking a sharp right and into a deserted ally way.

His black Kwami yawned and stretched, Adrien said his transformation phrase before he could speak, he extended his baton and ran back to the Akuma.

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#Adrinette April #adrien agreste #marinette dupain cheng #Miraculous Ladybug #Miraculous Ladybug Fanfiction #Miraculous #SwanSongWrites #Notes for You #I keep drabbling on

[shenala]

102 Keeps Me By Your Side

AO3 link 

A few Bucky birthdays on his 102nd.

10th March 1917 - It was a cool, crisp and clear night when the first cry broke through the darkness. From his seat at the kitchen table, George Barnes whipped his head up with a crack at the sound, a smile instantly replacing the strain that had called his face home for the previous hours as he'd been left with nothing to do other than listen as his wife struggled through the birth of their first child above him.

Finally allowed to see Winifred and their newborn, George barely spared the woman who'd been assisting a glance as he stepped forward to take his son into his arms for the first time. Cradling the precious bundle in his arms, he stroked a gentle finger over his son's impossibly soft forehead and greeted him with his new name, "Nice to meet you, James Buchanan Barnes, you're going to be a hero."

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10th March 1924; Aged 7 - "Happy Birthday, Buck!" was the first sign of his best friend's approach. Spinning with a bright grin, Bucky slipped his arm into its near permanent position around Steve's shoulders.

The pair had only become friends a few weeks earlier after Bucky had intervened when Steve had been taking on bullies twice his size... again, but after introducing himself as "James Buchanan Barnes" the blonde had declared that he would call him "Bucky" instead. Naturally, the only response to that was for Bucky, in turn, to declare "that's ok, we're best friends now", and so they were.

"I got you a present Buck, I mean it's not much but.." Steve began hesitantly, a shy smile crooking his lips.

"You didn't have to get me anything, Stevie."

With a shrug, Steve pulled a small, thin package wrapped in newspaper from his pocket and handed it over.

Bucky made sure to open it carefully, taking his time to unfold the paper and show the gift the respect anything given by Steve Rogers deserved, until he was able to see, nestled in the newspaper, a single red pencil.

"Thanks, Steve! It's my favourite colour!"

The blush that Bucky was already indescribably fond of crept up the smaller boy's cheeks as he kept his gaze on his scuffed shoes and nodded, "yeah Bucky, that's why I got that one."

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10th March 1933; Aged 16 - Because of the cold weather (it was March after all) the pair were holed up in Bucky's bedroom; one of them fiddling with some scraps of metal and the other sketching their companion's studious expression.

Carefully tearing the finished drawing out of his sketchbook, Steve handed it over with an exaggerated flourish, "Sorry I haven't gotten you anythin' else Buck, I'll make it up to you next year?"

Bucky chewed on his lip silently for a few moments, oblivious to the worry he was stirring in his best friend as he did so, before turning to the blonde and clearing his throat as he fought to maintain eye contact. "Well, you could make it up to me now Stevie... I mean, if ya wanted.. or if not.." He stumbled over his words as Steve merely held his gaze without reaction.

Dropping his chin, Bucky shook his head and mumbled a quick "nevermind". Before he could fall too deep into despair however, he was startled back to the present as a chilled hand, always chilled, pressed to the back of his neck. Jerking his head up in surprise he barely had time to notice how close Steve had moved when a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips were pressed to his own for just a second before moving away.

They didn't move far though as Bucky chased them desperately, his hand grasping the nape of Steve's neck as it mirrored the long, nimble fingers tangling in the short hairs at the base of his own skull.

"Best birthday ever" he would later whisper against golden hair, arms wrapped tightly the slim, and in his eyes perfect, figure of his oldest friend.

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

10th March 1937; Aged 20 - It was dark by the time Bucky stumbled back into the apartment he shared with Steve. He'd left before the other man was awake that morning and after working a double shift down at the docks, he was more than ready to just collapse into their threadbare couch. Maybe he could convince Steve to give him a foot rub, he wondered to himself as he toed off his boots at the door.

It took only a few steps further for him to realize that Steve had other plans.

Dressed in a shirt, tie and slacks, there wasn't a single fleck of paint on Steve, for once, as he stood next to their rickety kitchen table.

"What's all this Stevie?"

The table, usually covered in scraps of paper from Steve's work, was instead draped in a simple, but pretty, floral tablecloth. On top of which sat two place settings made up of their least chipped crockery and the two wine glasses that they kept for special occasions. And in the centre, there was a single red rose set in a jam jar. The scene was completed by a couple of candles, also in jars, littering the kitchen worktop.

Stepping forward to wrap the taller man into his arms, Steve pressed kisses to the base of Bucky's throat where his shirt was open. "Wanted to do somethin' special for my best guy's birthday. Ya like it?"

"Like it? I love it, Stevie. It's perfect, thanks, sweetheart."

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10th March 1944; Aged 27 - Bucky wasn't entirely sure where they were exactly, but knew that they were somewhere west of Czechoslovakia after their last mission had been storming a Hydra factory there.

He wasn't sure he particularly cared where they were either, to be honest. All he knew was that they'd found an abandoned farmhouse with no enemy nearby; it was dry, there was a river to wash in, and most importantly, there were actual beds.

After a simple meal with the rest of the Howlies, Steve pulled Bucky up from his chair and nudged him towards the stairs as he bid the men goodnight.

"Night Cap, Sarge", "Don't let the bedbugs bite", "It's not the bedbugs that'll be biting!" and "Happy Birthday Sarge" echoed behind them as they climbed up towards the bedroom they'd claimed earlier that day.

Now Bucky wouldn't say that he'd been expecting anything from Steve that night, but he'd be lying if he said he hadn't been hoping, so when his Captain instructed him to remove his clothes and lie face down on the bed he was more than happy to comply.

His excitement only grew as he felt the solid weight straddling his legs and warm hands, always warm, grasping his waist.

But then there was a hot breath on his neck and words being muttered into his ear, "Relax Buck, that's not what this is. Not tonight."

He started to protest but was quickly silenced.

"Hush Buck, I know things are different now, and I don't just mean me. There's something in your eyes since Azzano, not surprising after what they put you through yeah, but you're always so tense, you never just rest."

Steve's final words were punctuated by his strong yet still nimble fingers pressing into the tight muscles of his lower back, pulling a groan from Bucky's lips.

"If you don't want me to, I won't Bucky. You know that. But I want to take care of you for a change. Please?"

Bucky knew that had he been looking at Steve then he would be on the receiving end of a pair of pleading blue eyes but just the simple fact that Steve had said "please" made his request one that Bucky was unable, and unwilling, to deny. Settling for a simple nod in place of words he settled himself more comfortably onto the sheets and waited for Steve to begin.

Those heavenly hands returned to his skin moments later, this time their journey smoothed by what he determined was oil, this confirmed by Steve's quiet aside, "it's lavender, I diluted it so it's not too strong, I was hoping it might help you sleep." A quiet grunt of assent was the only response.

Muscles were then kneaded, knots were worked out and skin was kissed as Steve pressed reverence through his fingers and into the body below him. When he finally sat back on his heels, satisfied, he could only smile in silent gratitude as Bucky softly snored into the pillow. Moving from the bed with a tender kiss to brunette hair, he covered the sleeping man and whispered, "Happy birthday Bucky."

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

10th March 1945 - 5 days had passed since Steve's disappearance had made it into the newspapers. In reality, it had been 1 month since the Valkyrie crashed, and only 4 days before that when Bucky had fallen from the train.

In the Barnes' household, the mood was sombre as they kept not one, but two sons, at the forefront of their mind on the birthday of their eldest.

Winifred and Becca took flowers to Sarah & Joseph Rogers' graves after breakfast while George sat at the table carving into a wood offcut; "JBB 03-10-1917, SGR 07-04-1918, Brooklyn, NY" was the imprint left behind and it was later displayed on the mantlepiece next to a rare photo of the troublesome pair.

Meanwhile, in an SSR building Peggy Carter and Howard Stark raised a glass with a murmur "to Sergeant Barnes", and somewhere near Austria, the remaining Commandos were led by Dum Dum Dugan into three solemn salutes to their fallen Sergeant and the Captain that had followed him.

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

10th March [Year Unknown] - The mission had been going without a hitch. The target was eliminated with usual ease and the Asset was simply waiting for extraction.

The television had been on when he'd entered the target's home and continued to play as he waited. As he stood there the picture changed, it was now showing two men; one tall, well-built and blonde, the other slightly smaller and brunette, leaning over a map spread onto the hood of a truck. There was no sound accompanying the images but the words scrolling underneath read "Captain America's best friend, Bucky Barnes' birthday..."

Neither name meant anything to him. The Asset did not have a name and had no need for one.

But something about the blonde's face, crisp and clear even on the aged black and white footage, prevented him from looking away.

So he stood there as it continued to play, unnerved by the attention it demanded of him, sweat prickling the back of his neck as his left fist clenched repeatedly.

And that's how they found him when the time for retrieval came; still staring at a screen that now showed something entirely unrelated.

He was swiftly returned to the chair when they returned to base, the mystery of the blonde man he couldn't help but stare at burnt from his brain before ice froze away his consciousness.

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

10th March 2009; Aged 92 - Mission: Eliminate the target. This time the target was an Iranian scientist, not that the Asset knew that. He only had a face, a location and an order.

When it came time to implement that command a red-headed woman was standing in his way. The Asset didn't hesitate and pulled the trigger; the woman falling to the floor as his bullet travelled through her abdomen and into the target who'd attempted to shield himself behind her.

Mission: Completed.

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

10th March 2012 - When Steve Rogers woke up that morning it was to the initial confusion that heralded the start of all his days since he'd been brought into the 21st century. Where was he? Where was Bucky?

As his understanding returned, so too did the pain of being alone in this new world.

With a cursory glance towards the calendar, he felt the breath be punched out of him as he saw the date "March 10th", Bucky's birthday.

Now sitting on the edge of his bed, Steve collapsed forward to press his face into his hands as he broke down into shuddering sobs.

Had anyone else been in the sparsely furnished, SHIELD supplied, apartment to hear him they'd have been barely able to distinguish the words from the cries, but Steve was alone as he begged with anguish, "Bucky. Why Bucky why? Why aren't you here? Why couldn't I be with you? Bucky, god I miss you. I love you so much and it hurts, Buck, it hurts."

Steve would later drag himself down to the basement of his building and skin his knuckles down to the bone as he endlessly beat his way through the "heavy-duty" punch bags hung there. ------------------------------------------------------

10th March 2014; Aged 97 - He knew today was his birthday. Not because he had any actual memories of it being so, but because the exhibition at the museum had said March 10th was Bucky Barnes' birthday, and if he was Bucky Barnes then that meant that March 10th was his birthday too.

It had been less than two months since the Helicarriers fell from the skies and he'd dragged an unconscious Steve Rogers from the river.

In that time he'd visited the Smithsonian more than once, trying to garner all the knowledge he could about the man he used to be, before heading south. He was currently somewhere south of Texas in a Hydra safehouse, judging from what he'd been able to find on the internet it seemed unlikely that anyone else would be joining him at the hideout any time soon.

He was also fairly certain that Steve Rogers hadn't tracked him down yet, although some unplaceable knowledge at the back of his mind told him that the other man would be looking for him, somehow he knew that for certain, even when he wasn't certain of his own identity.

He had no memories of celebrating birthdays, and the Soldier had no information of use either, so he wasn't entirely sure if there was something he was meant to be doing. But as he snapped open a chocolate bar he'd found hidden behind some canned food, he thought that maybe, just maybe, that might be something he'd like to figure out.

Meanwhile, somewhere north of Bucky's "somewhere south of Texas" Steve Rogers stood overlooking an empty field under starlit skies. With a sigh that rattled his weary bones, he pushed his gaze towards the heavens and vowed, "I'm here Buck, I'll find you, I'm not losing you again."

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

10th March 2016; Aged 99 - Two years had passed since he'd been sat in that safehouse. Two years when he'd fought his body and his mind every single day: battling his memory as he grappled with flashes of who he was before; boy, man, lover, soldier, asset, lost... Fighting his body as every inch of him ached; nowhere more so than the area around his shoulder where metal met flesh. He was grateful that the drugs withdrawal had passed long ago, those few weeks had been enough to almost have him wishing for the emptiness of cryo on more than one occasion, but now he relished the feeling of a clear and fresh mind, battered and bruised though it was.

Today he knew it was his birthday because he was able to keep track of the days, and the newspaper he purchased every morning as he headed to the market confirmed it. It was March 10th, and that meant that he, James Buchanan Barnes, was 99 years old. He actually only let that particular thought cross his mind once as the idea of being 99 years old proved to be more than slightly baffling.

Unlike two years ago, Bucky had a plan for how he was going to celebrate his birthday. He was going to make a pie. He'd bought plums that morning and had already started baking the crust. It wasn't much, he was aware enough now to know that, but as he looked around his single room living space with a timid smile he thought it was quite enough for him at the moment.

Unlike two years ago, Steve Rogers was not standing in an empty field. He was still no closer to finding Bucky and was fairly sure that if one more person said "you won't find him unless he wants to be found" that he'd go insane, but stepping off the QuinJet behind Sam and Natasha as they headed to the latest Hydra base they intended to raze to the ground, he tapped a quick hand to his heart and muttered a brief "happy birthday jerk" before reaching up to his ear to switch on his comms.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------- March 10th 2017; Aged 100 - "Happy birthday Buck. It's a bit warmer here than it used to be for your birthdays back in Brooklyn. Wait, no, pretend I didn't just say that when you're in cryo. God, I don't know if I want you to be able to hear me or not. If you can, do me a favour and pretend you didn't when you get out? Don't need you to have any more things to use against me, ya jerk."

With a heavy sigh, the forced cheeriness slipped off his face and vanished from his voice as Steve sat forward in the chair. He'd placed it directly in front of Bucky's cryo tank shortly after he'd gone in and it hadn't moved from that position in the months since, even though he was often somewhere else in the world.

Now though, he scooted it closer, just enough so that he could reach out his hand and press it to the cool metal as he gazed up at the peaceful face of his best friend.

"100 years old, huh Buck? Gotta be honest I didn't expect either of us would make it to be old men. Maybe you before the war, but we both knew it was never gonna be realistic for me before the serum. Nat gave me a cupcake earlier, said it was for you but that I could eat it on your behalf. It was good, I guess I'll have to owe you one when you're awake."

Leaning back to raise his eyes to the ceiling, he had one final comment before slipping into the usual silence that always resulted from his visits, "ya reckon you'll be back for my birthday Bucky? Not sure I want to turn 99 without you, nevermind 100. Might have to skip the fireworks these days though..."

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

March 10th 2018; Aged 101 - Bucky was sitting at the kitchen table in his and Steve's Brooklyn home, a cup of coffee cradled between his hands and a plate of toast to the side, when an envelope slapped down onto the table in front of him.

"Whassat?" he mumbled through a mouth full of bread and jam.

Amusement filling his voice, Steve crossed around the table to sit opposite him before grinning, "guess you'll have to open it and find out."

Swallowing, he pointed an accusing finger the blonde's way, "you already gave me a present punk, and a card, and a very pleasant wake-up" he finished with a wink.

Despite his words, Bucky was quick to snatch up the envelope before prying it open with his left pinky.

Steve was content to watch in silence as steel blue eyes grew wider and plush lips formed a gasp of surprise as words and meaning were processed before he was gifted a lap full of super-soldier and a face full of sweet-smelling brunette hair as kisses were pressed to his own golden crown.

"Is it real, Stevie?"

Wrapping his arms tightly around Bucky and sneaking a kiss to the underside of his chin, Steve grinned up at him, "Yep. You're fully pardoned and recognized as a POW, the medals are on their way, your back pay should already be in the bank, and you have a passport and driving license in your own name, with your face and your date of birth. And no-one can ever take them away from you."

With eyes full of tears and a smile brighter than the sun, Bucky buried his face into the neck of this precious man as Steve finished, "Happy birthday Bucky."

----------------------------------------------------------------------------- 10th March 2019; Aged 102 - Flicking his suspicious gaze from the leather box on his knees to the smiling man leaning in front of them, Bucky cautiously lifted the lid just enough to peek inside.

"C'mon Buck, open it properly!"

"Quiet Stevie, it's my present."

"Not if I take it back it's not!"

Reflexively pulling it closer he narrowed his eyes in a glare at the blonde, "you wouldn't, now shush."

Now opening the box fully, Bucky found himself unable to form words or even noises as he took in the contents before him.

Luckily, Steve hadn't lost the ability of speech, "so I had no way of getting yours, obviously, so these are mine but I want you to have them Bucky, no don't argue, just listen. We always wore each other's tags in the war, and I've worn mine since I came out of the ice. But these are for you, for the moments when maybe you need a reminder of who you are and where you belong; with me."

Tears trailing down his cheeks Bucky raised his eyes to Steve's, "thank you, Stevie, I don't know what to say, just thank you.." his voice trailed off as he looked back down to the dog tags and noticed something amiss.

This time when he looked back to Steve, the other man had moved from kneeling on two knees to one as he reached out to lift the tags from the box, before holding out the ring that now joined them on the chain for Bucky's inspection.

"I thought this might be a good way to wear it, I mean if you say yes, which you don't have to of course. But uh, I was wondering, to be honest, I've wanted to ask you since the 30s, and I love you, James Buchanan Barnes, so would you.. god, I'm messing this up, but would you do me the honour of marrying me and being my husband?"

Shock swiftly morphed to sheer delight and Bucky flung himself forward onto Steve, arms wrapped tightly around the blonde's neck as he yelled "Yes!"

Pulling him down into a kiss, Steve clarified, "Yes?"

"Yes, Steve. A thousand times yes."

"Thank god for that. Happy birthday Buck"

"I love you, Steve Rogers"

"I love you too, James Rogers"

"No, Steve."

"Why not?"

"That sounds awful. We'll hyphenate. Barnes-Rogers."

"What about Rogers-Barnes?"

"No."

"Why? What's wrong with Rogers-Barnes?"

"I'm older, my name goes first."

"Says who!??"

"Me."

"Jerk."

"Punk."

title taken from the song “one hundred and two” by The Judds

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #steve rogers/bucky barnes #happy birthday bucky