#[ and i was like 'wow now i need to watch this' ]

[rose24207]

Just a salesman pt.2

Summary: Your perfect world shatters when a furious stranger bursts into your home, accusing your loving, devoted husband of being a monster responsible for countless deaths.

Genre: angst, dark

TW: mention of death, little gaslighting, reader is a little twisted about the situation, the games in general

A/N: Wow I didn’t expect for pt. 1 to blow up like that and for so many requests about a second part. But here we go! I take requests about squid game btw. English is not my first language. I hope you enjoy it though! Requests are open and welcome!

Pt.1

Masterlist

The room fell into an unbearable silence as you stood there, trembling, your tears streaking your face. Gi-hun’s words echoed in your ears like a bell you couldn’t unring. Your husband, your safe harbor, was a killer. A manipulative, calculating man who had built a world of lies around you.

And yet...

As much as your heart screamed in betrayal, it also whispered something darker. A small, insidious part of you—a part you didn’t even recognize—wanted to protect him. Wanted to believe that somehow, some way, this could still make sense.

“Leave,” your husband said, his voice low and commanding. It wasn’t directed at you, but at Gi-hun.

“I’m not going anywhere,” Gi-hun spat. “She deserves to know the full truth.”

“I said, leave.” Your husband’s tone grew colder, sharper. You could see the tension in his shoulders, the way his hand flexed at his side as though itching to act.

Gi-hun took a step forward, his jaw set. “You think you can scare me? After everything I’ve been through because of you? I’m not afraid of you anymore. I’m not—”

“Stop,” you said softly, your voice cutting through the tension like a blade. Both men turned to look at you, surprised. You wiped your face, straightened your back, and forced yourself to meet Gi-hun’s eyes. “Please. Just… go.”

“What?” he said, incredulous. “You can’t be serious.”

“I need to talk to him,” you said firmly, though your voice wavered. “Alone.”

“You can’t trust him,” Gi-hun argued, gesturing toward your husband. “He’s a monster. He’ll manipulate you, just like he’s done to everyone else.”

You shook your head. “I don’t care what you think. This is my marriage. My life. And right now, you’re not helping.”

Your words were harsh, but your heart felt like it was being ripped apart. Gi-hun looked at you, his face contorted with disbelief, before letting out a bitter laugh.

“Fine,” he said, throwing his hands up. “Do what you want. But don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He shot your husband one last glare before storming out, slamming the door behind him.

Silence settled over the room once more. Your husband stood there, watching you cautiously, as though waiting for you to lash out or collapse. But you did neither. Instead, you walked to the table, picking up the strange card Gi-hun had left. You turned it over in your hands, the cryptic design doing little to ease your growing unease.

“Is it true?” you asked finally, your voice barely above a whisper. “What he said about the games? About you?”

Your husband hesitated, his jaw tightening. Then, to your surprise, he nodded. “Yes.”

The word hit you like a physical blow, but you didn’t falter. You set the card down and looked at him, your tears drying as a strange calm settled over you. “Why?”

“For you,” he said simply, stepping closer. “For us.”

“That’s not an answer,” you said, your voice cold. “Why would you do something so… horrific? Why would you—”

“Because it’s the only world I know,” he interrupted, his voice rising slightly. “And it’s the only way I could give you the life you deserve. Don’t you see? Everything I’ve done has been for you.”

“For me?” you repeated, your voice trembling with a mix of anger and something darker. “You think I wanted this? That I’d ever want you to hurt people—kill people—for me?”

He stepped closer still, his eyes locking onto yours. “You don’t understand,” he said softly. “The world isn’t kind to people like us. I’ve seen what happens to people who don’t take control, who don’t make the hard choices. I made those choices so you wouldn’t have to.”

You stared at him, your mind spinning. Every instinct told you to run, to call the police, to do anything but stand there and listen to him. And yet… you didn’t move.

“Do you love me?” you asked suddenly, your voice raw.

His expression softened, and for a moment, you saw the man you’d fallen in love with. “More than anything,” he said. “You’re the only good thing in my life.”

Something inside you twisted at his words, at the sincerity in his voice. He was a monster, yes—but he was your monster. The thought made your stomach churn, but it also filled you with a strange, horrifying sense of power. He had done terrible things, but he had done them for you.

“I don’t know if I can forgive you,” you said, your voice trembling. “I don’t know if I can ever look at you the same way.”

“I don’t expect you to,” he said quietly. “But I need you to understand that I’ll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. To keep you with me.”

You swallowed hard, your heart pounding as you took a shaky breath. “You’re going to tell me everything,” you said finally, your voice steady despite the chaos inside you. “No more lies. No more secrets. If you want me to stay, I need to know exactly who you are.”

A flicker of relief crossed his face, but it was quickly replaced by something darker. He nodded. “I’ll tell you everything.”

As he began to speak, unraveling the web of lies and horrors he’d kept hidden, you felt yourself sinking deeper into a world you didn’t understand—a world you weren’t sure you wanted to understand. But one thing was certain: you weren’t ready to let go. Not yet.

Thank you for reading!

Taglist: @blueyesuguru, @annimoony, @jasmineee05, @astrophe0, @riri53

[clearlyonhere]

I also saw my neighbor that called me fat a few weeks ago. It’s safe to say I’m even bigger now. I had a meeting with my boss this evening so I was in a top and dress slacks (and an unphotographed blazer) that I haven’t put on in over a year. Safe to say they don’t fit.

I was taking my coat off when she looked over at me and she looked shocked! I’ve been stuffing all day but even without that there’s no denying that I’ve been blowing up like a balloon. Every inch of my body is getting bigger and softer and rounder.

She was staring at me and she said “girl you need to buy bigger pants! Maybe a size or two up if you aren’t planning on dieting.”

So of course I had a little bit of fun “well it’s a good thing you said I looked good chunkier. It looks like I gained back every bit of weight I lost and then some.”

She got herself together and said “wow it looks really good on you. You carry the weight really well. How much have you gained since the last time I saw you?”

And I said “idk maybe 10lbs?” I put my hand on my belly and squeezed the roll and said “I swear it went straight to my belly!”

She watched me pinch and roll the blooming fat at my waist and said “it looks way bigger than the last time I saw you! You definitely gained weight! Honestly if I didn’t know better I’d think you were pregnant with how big your belly is getting so quickly,”

So she and I sit down next to each other to each other on a bench and I looked at her, with my hand on my belly and a huge roll hanging over my pants, “I know. I’m getting really fat,”

She watched me play with my belly as I lifted and dropped the roll over my waist band and she said “I wouldn’t say you’re fat yet. Probably just chubby, fat for you yes, but just chubby to anyone else.”

Then she lifted up her shirt and showed me her soft but flat belly and said “it’s ok we all gain weight over the holidays, look at how jiggly I am,” she’s not but I let her pretend.

“Psssh you don’t have a belly you have a flat tummy,” I lifted my top out of my pants which was a struggle. My belly plopped out and I said “this is a belly.”

She reached out and pinched my belly and jiggled it a little then said “wow you must have been eating like a pig to balloon this quickly.”

“I know. I’m really getting big quickly. If I keep going at this rate I’ll be 180 pounds in a couple months!”

She replied “I think that would look really good on you, you look cute with a round belly like that.”

So it’s safe to say she wants me to get fatter! I don’t think she’s a feeder. She’s only brought me banana bread once or twice. But she obviously likes that I’m getting fat.

[pretty-sparkle-bomb]

In which, a girl tries to flirt with one of the MHA boys. Part 1

Characters included: Denki Kaminari, Katsuki Bakugo, Eijiro Kirishima

Side Note: The reader is a badass chick 🤤

Katsuki Bakugo

Katsuki Bakugo wasn’t the sweet romantic type to anyone but you. He was the kind of guy who, in public, showed love in his own way—by pulling you into his side possessively, scowling at anyone who looked at you wrong, and grumbling curse-laced insults that somehow still made your heart flutter. In private? Yeah, I’ll leave that to your imagination.

He didn’t need anyone else. He had you. And that was enough.

Unfortunately, not everyone seemed to get the memo.

Like the new girl.

She had transferred into U.A. a few weeks ago, and from the moment she laid eyes on your man, she had been on a mission. At first, it was subtle. Asking him unnecessary questions in class. Laughing a little too hard at his brash remarks. Finding excuses to sit near him during lunch.

But then it got bolder.

She started showing up outside the gym when he was training. Bringing him extra snacks. “Accidentally” tripping in front of him so he’d catch her. Touching his arm and marveling at his muscles.

You could tell it annoyed him. Bakugo wasn’t exactly the patient type, and the way his eye twitched whenever she got too close was proof enough.

Yet, she kept pushing.

One day, she took it too far.

You and the Bakusquad were hanging out in the common room when she waltzed in, making a beeline for your boyfriend.

“Bakugo~” she sang, plopping down beside him, far too close for comfort.

You leaned against the couch, watching with mild amusement as he immediately tensed.

“The hell do you want?” he muttered, clearly uninterested.

She giggled, completely ignoring his irritation. “I made something for you!” She held out a scarf—black and orange, his colors. “I knitted it myself! I noticed you don’t wear scarves, so I figured I could give you one of mine. Now every time you wear it, you’ll think of me!”

You snorted. Oh, this girl was bold.

Bakugo just stared at the scarf like it was an insult to his entire existence. “The fuck? I don’t wear scarves.”

“Oh, don’t be like that!” She pouted. “Just try it on for me—”

Bakugo's eye twitched. "I ain't wearin’ that."

Her smile faltered for a split second, but she pushed on, lifting the scarf toward him. "Just try it on! I promise it’ll look great—"

Before she could finish her sentence, you snatched the scarf right out of her hands.

"Wow," you hummed, examining it. "Soft, warm… a nice shade of orange." You nodded thoughtfully. "You know, I think I know the perfect use for it."

She rolled her eyes at you, her happy-go-lucky personality disappearing instantly. “Really?”

With a sickly sweet smile, you turned on your heel, walked straight to the common room’s fireplace, and—without a moment’s hesitation—tossed the scarf in.

The flames swallowed it instantly.

A beat of silence.

Then—

"WHAT THE HELL?!" she shrieked, eyes wide with horror.

You dusted off your hands. "Oh, sorry. Did you actually think he was gonna wear that?" You gave her a pitying look. "It was just taking up space."

Katsuki, who had been sitting in stunned silence, suddenly let out a loud, barking laugh. "Damn, babe."

Kirishima was struggling to hold back his own laughter. Kaminari? Nearly choking on his drink. Even Mina was giggling into her hands.

The girl looked between you and the burning scarf; face twisted in disbelief. “Y-You—”

"You seriously thought he’d wear something you made?" you cut her off, tilting your head. "I mean, I get it. You tried. A for effort and all that." You shrugged. "But he’s already got everything he needs."

You turned back to your carmine-eyed boyfriend, who was still smirking, and leaned down to press a slow, deliberate kiss to his cheek.

"Right, Kats?"

His arm immediately wrapped around your waist, pulling you onto his lap. He rested his chin on your shoulder, crimson eyes locked onto the girl as he smirked.

"Damn right."

The girl stood there, fuming, hands clenched into fists before she finally let out a frustrated huff and stormed out.

He chuckled against your neck. "Damn, that was brutal."

You grinned. "She had it coming."

He squeezed your waist, his voice low and amused. "Shit like that makes me love you even more, y'know that?"

Outcome: Scarf? Incinerated. Girl? Humbled. Relationship? Stronger than steel.

Denki Kaminari

Denki Kaminari had always been a flirt. From the start, he was a natural charmer, but when he met you, something changed. You grounded him. You made him feel loved and appreciated. You weren’t just another fling—you were the one who tamed him.

And when you two started dating, his flirtatious ways disappeared—at least, with anyone but you. Still, his naturally friendly personality sometimes sent the wrong signals, especially to girls who didn’t know any better.

Take a recent example. A new girl had just transferred to U.A. on recommendation. She was pretty, sociable, and quickly made friends with everyone—including you. But it was obvious she had a thing for Denki. She was always flirting with him, running her fingers through his hair, applying lip gloss the moment he walked in, dousing herself in sickly-sweet vanilla perfume so he’d notice whenever she passed by.

But you? You weren’t insecure. If anything, you found her antics hilarious. She actually thought she had a chance. Maybe she missed the lipstick stains on his cheeks and neck. Maybe she overlooked the way he whistled whenever you walked by, how he absentmindedly played with your hair while you talked to Mina, how he cornered you during lunch, hugged you from behind, or kissed the top of your head. Maybe she hadn’t noticed the matching promise rings, the shared bentos, or the inside jokes.

Oh, who were you kidding?

She knew.

She knew, and she was still trying.

One morning, while you and Momo giggled over your new matching nails, you caught sight of her in your peripheral vision. She was strutting over to Denki again. But something was different this time.

There, dyed into her perfectly shiny black hair, was a bright yellow lightning bolt.

And that was it.

You watched as she twirled in front of him, eyes sparkling. “Do you notice anything different?” she asked, her voice sickly sweet.

Denki looked uncomfortable. This girl was a whole new level of delusional.

“Uh, Amai… I have a girlfriend,” he stated flatly.

Her smile disappeared for a second before she stepped closer, recovering quickly. “Well, I don’t see her. Besides, she doesn’t have to know.” She tugged at his tie, pulling him from his standing position so that their faces were centimeters away, but he immediately placed a hand on her wrist, pushing her away. You took off your shoes and quietly strode closer to them.

By now, everyone in the room had gone silent, eyes locked on the three of you, waiting to see what would happen.

“Turn around,” you said, voice flat yet filled with annoyance.

Before she could react, you grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back. Her body arched, and she locked eyes with you in shock.

“Now you see her.”

In one swift motion, you pulled her to the ground and straddled her, delivering a solid punch to her nose. Something cracked. You hoped it was her nose—but then you saw something else.

Your nails.

Your beautiful, fresh, matching nails.

Broken.

“You bitch! You broke my nail!” you gasped in outrage.

Tears welled in her eyes as she stammered something, but you weren’t interested. Instead, you landed another punch.

It took both Denki and Sero to pry you off her—but not before you got in a good kick to her stomach.

Let’s just say one of you ended up in Recovery Girl’s office, and the other got detention for a week.

Mr. Aizawa, being the legend that he was, let you use your phone during detention. What an amazing teacher.

Eijiro Kirishima

You were used to people liking Eijiro.

It was impossible not to like him—he was strong, dependable, kind, and had the kind of energy that made everyone feel included. He wasn’t just a hero in training, he was a damn good person.

But Kanna Fukuda? She wasn’t just crushing on him.

She was competing with you.

Kanna was a Support Course genius—a prodigy when it came to crafting hero gear. And for whatever reason, she had convinced herself that you were just a phase, a distraction, something Eijiro would eventually “grow out of.”

She thought that if she could prove she was more useful to him—more essential to his future—he’d eventually choose her.

Too bad for her, Eijiro wasn’t choosing anyone but you.

At first, you ignored her attempts.

The custom gear. The constant requests to work with only Eijiro. The way she always “just happened” to be around whenever he finished training, ready with some new, “perfectly designed” item that would “enhance his performance.”

She was always hovering. But Eijiro never gave her any attention.

He was polite, sure, but he never went out of his way to talk to her. He never lingered when she spoke. Half the time, he didn’t even realize she was there because his attention was always on you.

And that? That drove her crazy.

One afternoon, in the middle of the U.A. common area, she made her biggest move yet. Eijiro had just finished an intense sparring session, sweat still dripping from his forehead as he leaned back against the couch beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

And then, out of nowhere, Kanna appeared. How the hell did she get access to the 1A building?

She placed something onto the table in front of him—a brand-new pair of hero gloves.

“I made these for you,” she announced, smiling like she’d already won. “They’re impact-resistant, reinforced with carbon fiber, and custom-fitted to your exact hand measurements.”

Your eyes narrowed. Hand measurements? He sure as hell never gave her those. Eijiro blinked at the gloves, looking more confused than impressed. “Uh… thanks, but I already got a pair.”

“These are better.” She took a step closer, lowering her voice. “You should let me take care of you—I mean your gear, Kirishima. I mean, it’s kinda my specialty, right? I can make sure everything you use is perfectly tailored for you.”

And then, she had the audacity to glance at you—like she was proving a point, like she was winning.

You sat up straighter, a slow smirk creeping onto your lips. “Ohhh, impact-resistant, huh?” You grabbed the gloves off the table, turning them over in your hands. “That’s so impressive, Kanna. Really.”

Her chest puffed up. “I know, right?”

And then, before she could say another word, you used your quirk. A white light emitted and them you ripped the hideous pair of gloves in half.

The room went silent.

Kanna’s smug expression shattered. “YOU—WHAT THE HELL?!”

You tilted your head, examining the torn gloves. “Huh. I thought they were impact-resistant.”

“You—” Her hands shook as she pointed at you. “D-Do you know how long that took me to—”

“They weren’t gonna last,” you interrupted, tossing the ruined gloves back onto the table. “They were never gonna be strong enough for him.” You leaned forward, resting your chin in your palm. “You don’t get it, do you?”

Her lips pressed into a tight line.

You smiled. “You can make all the fancy gear you want, but he doesn’t need it.” You glanced at Eijiro, who was watching you with awe and admiration in his eyes. “He’s already strong enough on his own. And he sure as hell doesn’t need you.”

Kanna looked at Eijiro. Waiting. Hoping. Begging for him to defend her.

But all he did was sigh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Uh… yeah. Listen, Kanna, I gotta agree with her on this one.” He gave her an apologetic smile. “I really appreciate the effort, but… I already have everything I need.”

And then, right in front of everyone, he turned to you—grinned—and kissed you.

It wasn’t just some quick peck.

It was slow, deliberate, his hand cupping your cheek, thumb brushing your skin—a clear, undeniable claim.

Kanna’s face flushed deep red.

She didn’t say another word.

She just grabbed the ruined gloves, turned, and walked out.

The moment she was gone, chaos erupted.

“OH MY GOD, YOU JUST DESTROYED HER!” Mina shrieked.

“THAT WAS SO FREAKIN’ HOT,” Kaminari howled.

Bakugo smirked, arms crossed. “About damn time. I was gonna blow her ass to America if she continued.”

Eijiro just chuckled, wrapping his arms around you, pulling you into his lap. “Damn, babe,” he murmured, pressing another kiss against your temple. “That was seriously the most badass thing I’ve ever seen.”

You grinned, curling your fingers into his red hair. “Had to put her in her place, didn’t I?”

He laughed, pressing his forehead against yours. “Heck yeah, you did.”

And if anyone still thought they had a chance with your man?

They sure as hell didn’t now.

[just-some-random-blogger]

YOU DIDNT TELL ME YOU HAD OTHER GEORGE FICS I FEEL LIKE I WAS BAITED INTO GETTING INTO ANOTHER WEASLEY FOR NO REASON (I say as if I needed to be baited 🙄🤪)

An enormous Christmas tree hung upside down from the ceiling, decorated in orange, purple, and gold, with handmade ornaments over every branch and popcorn strings strewn around it.

OH! LOVELY not you making me want to rewatch the films (I won't I'm not a fan of reconsumption idk idk idk)

He had a bright purple handkerchief in his hand, the triple W embroidered on the corner.

Willy Wonka aahhh entrance. My beautiful beautiful boy

You knew about the death of his twin, Fred, everyone did, and now he knew your pain as well.

😃 oh. We're doing the death. 😃 Oh 👍

George’s smile widened, a flush creeping up his neck. “Well, ah, that’s really—” he scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered by the revelation. “That’s very kind,” he managed with a breathy chuckle.

“You’re my first priority today,”

Can I be your first priority everyday

At first, he seemed reluctant to talk about products with stories tied to Fred, like prodding a sore wound, but eventually he was telling story after story, grinning and laughing at the memories of their countless antics.

Wow I cannot express how absolutely unnecessary it was to kill Fred. Wow. This is supposed to be cute but 😃 I don't agreeeee 🙅‍♀️ NO MAAM

“Please, just—let me do this for your brother.” George’s eyes held yours, soft around the corners. “It’s what Fred would do.”

MY SHAYLAAAAAAAAA

“Would you want to, uh, maybe get a drink later? Or coffee?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, freckled cheeks flushing pink.

GASP. RIZZLER GEORGE. SEE 🫵 YOU'RE OUT HERE LAUGHING WHEN 🫵 YOU CONTRIBUTED TO THE CANON THAT IS RIZZLER!GEORGE

You hadn’t stopped thinking about George for a moment, so wound up that you started getting ready three hours early for a simple ice cream date. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so giddy, so hopeful.

She so me. Icon

“It was worse when we first reopened the shop.” His thumb swiped back and forth across yours, soothing the irritation itching under your skin. “They would come in just to get a look at me. Like my grief was some kind of spectator sport.”

IM COMING GEORGIE! STAY BACK

(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง(ง •̀_•́)ง

George barked a laugh, his head falling back with the force of it, and you smiled. “Better, I suppose.”

... 🧍‍♀️ Miss ma'am what is the context of this I must have been hella cute ANYWAY IT IS I CAN SEE HIM LAUGHIN--- OH FUCK I REMEMBER NO IT IS HE TURNED WHATSHERFACE PURPLE HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH

You ordered your bowls of ice cream, Peppermint Marshmallow Mayhem for George and Gingerbread Dreams for you, and sat at a corner booth by the window, talking about nothing in particular for awhile while you ate.

Damn are those actual flavors in the series or did u just think of them. Slayed. Loathe to eat either tho HAHAAHA

“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Now, let me try your ice cream.” He waggled his spoon and you laughed, sliding it towards him. He took the tiniest spoonful, flipping it over to lick it off, and your cheeks warmed at the way his tongue caressed the curve of the spoon.

?????? HELLO????. #1 ☝️ idc if ur brother died in not sharing my ice cream (JK JK WE COULD SHARE DNA AND MAKE A BABY I LOVE YOU) #2 ✌️ *inhale* WHOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO-

“Can you blame me? I’m sitting across from my dream woman,” he replied, grinning.

Case in point. Rizzler!George

Sugary peppermint and creamy marshmallow coated your tongue, and you moaned.

????? QUEEEE MAMACITA???? MOANED I mean sure but like??? IN FRONT OF GEORGE IS CRAZY (I understand you)

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you watching the carolers,” he murmured, sliding his glove off and reaching out to cradle your face, his touch gentle, giving you every opportunity to pull away.

🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵🫵RIZZLER!GEORGE WHAT ARE YOU ON ABOUT COME HERE GIMME KITH

He loosed a pleased hum, leaning forward to capture your lips in another, slower kiss. “Like hearin’ you call me baby,” he mumbled against your mouth.

I'll give you a baby

But then he withdrew what appeared to be a toy airplane that would in no way, shape, or form fit in that pocket without magic. Your brothers face lit up when George threw it in the air and it started to fly, ducking and whizzing around the room.

He pulled out a bouncing ball, then a rubber chicken, a set of chattering teeth, a stuffed teddy bear. Item after item came out of his pockets until your brothers bed was covered in toys and gag items, and a dozen nurses were watching in amazement from the hallway. You and your mom were fighting through silent tears, your heart so big you felt it might explode out of your chest.

I would NAWT be silently sobbing. I would be on the floor bawling

Most importantly, your brother was ecstatic, playing with this and that and chattering away at George about the different products and teaching him how to do magic tricks George himself had invented.

THEE George Weasely 😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫😫❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹 lil bro will freak if they ever have a genetic collaboration (if he lives that long)

“I miss him,” George gasped like he was in pain, his grip almost bruising around your body.

🫵you🫵 meet me outside. Send your location. I just want to talk. Shhh shhhh don't fight it (fiGHT ME)

Id give you a 10/10 but you killed Fred so 0/10 I'm sorry I don't make the rules. Idc if this got me geeking. YOU KNOW WHAT ACTUALLY FINE YOU CAN HAVE 10/10 YOU MADE ME FEEL NOTHING. I FEEL NOTHING

A Christmas Gift | G.W.

“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”

feat. George Weasley x fem!reader

SUMMARY: You go to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes to pick out a Christmas gift for your ailing little brother, who adored the shop (and the twins) before he became too ill to go. You find a gift and so much more than you ever dreamed of.

CW: this is really emotional, i’m sorry, but i pinky promise that it has a happyish ending. fred is dead, grief, hurt/comfort, hospital visits, sick sibling/children, some swearing, but also some fun and lightheartedness, plenty of christmasy fluff, first kisses

AN: last Christmas fic of the season!

The early morning snow buffeted at your back as you stepped into Weasely Wizard Wheezes. The store had just opened, you saw someone turn the sign as you finished your breakfast at the Three Broomsticks, but you wanted to beat the holiday rush so you could really take your time.

The smell of cinnamon and woodsmoke, plastic toys and what could only be described as joy, welcomed you inside. An enormous Christmas tree hung upside down from the ceiling, decorated in orange, purple, and gold, with handmade ornaments over every branch and popcorn strings strewn around it. Every shelf was stocked and festively decorated, and soft Christmas music played from the speakers.

You stopped in the doorway, tears welling in your eyes. Your brother would love this. You had hoped that he’d be having a good day today, that maybe, by some miracle, he’d be well enough to come with you. But he’d spiked a fever late last night, and was going in for some imaging today to ensure he hadn’t caught pneumonia…again.

“Morning,” a voice called to you, and you looked up, hastily wiping tears on your sleeve. George Weasley, a man you’d never met but would recognize anywhere, was halfway down the spiral staircase, a cup of coffee in hand. He was dressed in the iconic pinstripe suit, his copper hair a little longer than the last time you’d seen him two years prior, not that he’d remember.

The only reason you remembered was because of your brothers obsession with the Weasley twins. He’d asked to have his hair cut and dyed orange that same afternoon.

More tears welled up, and you cursed yourself, turning away to hide your face. “I’m sorry,” you sniffled, trying to take a deep breath. “I promise I’m not insane.”

You heard him move the rest of the way down the stairs, then approach you, his tall frame taking him across the store in a few strides. He had a bright purple handkerchief in his hand, the triple W embroidered on the corner.

“That’s okay, we like a little insanity around here. What’s your name?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Y/n.” You accepted the handkerchief with a watery smile and dabbed your eyes.

“George. Are you alright, y/n?” he asked.

You sighed, twisting the fabric in your hands. “The holiday’s are just hard.”

He nodded, his jaw flexing, eyes averting from your face to the floor. “Yeah,” he said, his voice rougher than it had been a moment before. You noticed then the dark circles under his eyes, the air of heaviness around his shoulders. “Can I help you find something?” he asked, pivoting quickly.

“Yes, actually. I’m, uh, looking for a gift for my little brother. But he—it has to be something he can play with in bed. Nothing too loud or messy.” Your heart ached as you said it, knowing he would actually love something loud, messy, destructive, as little boys do, but such things weren’t allowed at St. Mungo’s.

George raised an eyebrow. “Strict parents?”

You shook your head, swallowing around the lump in your throat. “He’s in hospital,” you murmured, hating saying the words aloud.

George’s face fell. “Oh—Merlin, I’m really sorry.”

A flicker of understanding passed between you, your broken hearts beating at the same rhythm for a moment. You knew about the death of his twin, Fred, everyone did, and now he knew your pain as well. That knowledge weaved an invisible string of connection between you, forged in empathy.

“We can absolutely find something for him,” George said, his voice painfully sincere. He offered you his arm and you accepted, needing a bit of steadiness. “What kind of things does he like?”

You started to walk through the store, looking around the towering shelves, at a bit of a loss. “Well, he loves Whizz-bangs, and your Pyrotechtrix.”

George smiled, chuckling to himself. “Fun, but not exactly suitable for a hospital.”

“Exactly. But honestly, anything you recommended, he’d absolutely adore, so long as I told him you recommended it.”

“Oh yeah?” George raised an eyebrow, glancing down at you.

Saints, he’s handsome.

“Yeah, he’s a big fan. He used to beg us to stop in every time we came to Diagon Alley so he could watch your demonstrations.”

George’s smile widened, a flush creeping up his neck. “Well, ah, that’s really—” he scratched the back of his head, clearly flustered by the revelation. “That’s very kind,” he managed with a breathy chuckle.

The door jingled as another customer came in and you tensed, George’s eye flicking towards the new customer, then back down to you.

You moved to slip your arm from his. “I can look around, you go ahead—”

“Oi, Ron!” George shouted, a hand cupped around his mouth, his arm tightening around yours so you stayed put.

“What? I’m sorting inventory!” Ron Weasley shouted back, appearing from the back of the store with arms full of boxes. His eyes quickly scanned over you, your joined arms, then back to George, who was nodding his head towards the door. “Welcome to Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes!” Ron turned greeted the customer, dropping the boxes where he stood.

You chuckled, leaning a bit closer to George, grateful that he didn’t abandon you.

“You’re my first priority today,” he murmured to you, close enough that you could smell his amber cologne, and you felt your anxiety unspool for the first time in weeks. For this one thing, this small, Christmas gift hunt, you weren’t alone.

You spent the rest of the morning with George, wandering through aisle after aisle as he talked you through every product you showed an interest in. At first, he seemed reluctant to talk about products with stories tied to Fred, like prodding a sore wound, but eventually he was telling story after story, grinning and laughing at the memories of their countless antics.

He encouraged you to share about your brother as well, and by the end, you were both in stitches from laughing, cheeks sore and eyes watery with tears. It warmed your heart to see him light up at the his brother’s memory, to see the love between them still very much burning, and soothed a bit of your fear.

No matter what happened, the love and the memories would remain.

You finally settled on an Aviatomobile and a few muggle magic tricks, nothing explosive, sticky, or illness-causing. George carried the items to the counter, setting them gently on surface, but hesitated when he reached for the register.

He turned, grabbing a gift box from beneath the counter. Carefully, he wrapped each item in branded tissue paper and nestled them into the box, then rearranged them once, then twice, before finally placing the lid and tying an orange bow around it. Then, he grabbed one of the paper ornaments from the counter, where kids could write little messages or drawings to hang on the gravity-defying Christmas tree, and scribbled something on it before securing it to the bow.

“There we go,” he said, pushing it towards you with a sheepish smile.

You reached for you wallet. “How much do I—”

He shook his head, waving you off. “It’s on me. Least I can do for an avid supporter.”

Tears burned behind your eyes again, caught off guard by his generosity. “George, I can’t—”

“Please, just—let me do this for your brother.” George’s eyes held yours, soft around the corners. “It’s what Fred would do.”

You nodded, unable to speak through the lump in your throat.

“Would you want to, uh, maybe get a drink later? Or coffee?” He asked, rubbing the back of his neck, freckled cheeks flushing pink.

You smiled, your heart flipping in your chest. “I’d love to. We could get ice cream at Fortescue's?” You offered.

He smiled back. “Perfect. 7 o’clock?”

“Perfect,” you repeated, fighting a nervous giggle. “I’ll see you later, then.” You hefted the box in your arms and waved goodbye, hurrying out before you said anything embarrassing, or melted into a puddle of goo on the floor.

Halfway down the street, you finally glanced at the paper ornament George attached to the gift.

Sorry, mate. No explosive’s. Sister’s orders. But I’ve got a stash in the back waiting for you when you’re ready. Merry Christmas. - GW

You were fizzing with excitement as you approached the ice cream shop, a soft flurry of snowflakes dancing int the twinkle lights strew across Diagon Alley. Vendors were at every corner, selling steaming beverages, candied nuts, and fried dough. Shoppers wandered from glowing door to glowing door, bundled in thick coats and arms laden with bags. A choir sang Christmas carols on the steps of Gringotts, toads wearing Santa hats cradled in their arms, and you paused to listen while they sang “Carol of the Bells”, trying to collect your scattered mind.

You hadn’t stopped thinking about George for a moment, so wound up that you started getting ready three hours early for a simple ice cream date. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt so giddy, so hopeful.

“I like this song,” a familiar voice murmured in your ear and you looked up, finding George standing beside you watching the carolers, the lights reflecting in his brown eyes. He was dressed in a brown wool coat with a Gryffindor scarf around his neck, a white, cable knit sweater and jeans underneath, patches on the knees.

“Me too,” you replied, biting your lips to stop the grin threatening to rise. “How was your day?”

“Chaos. I left Ron to deal with the stragglers. We were supposed to close around six…” he trailed off, his eyes catching on a group of wizards. You followed his eye, and were appalled to find them muttering and pointing at him. And when you looked around, you noticed several groups were doing the same.

Instinctively, you moved closer to him, as if you could shield him somehow.

His fingers twined with yours, warm and calloused. “It’s alright,” he said, turning you to face him. “M’used to it.”

“It’s not alright,” you said, raising your voice and directing a pointed glare at the noisy folks. “It’s rude!”

He chuckled, tugging you away from the carolers. “Easy, love. It doesn’t bother me much anymore. Don’t give them any of your attention.”

You sighed, falling into step beside him, hands still clasped together. “I’m sorry they treat you like that,” you said, glaring daggers at anyone that even glanced in his direction while you walked towards Fortescue's.

“It was worse when we first reopened the shop.” His thumb swiped back and forth across yours, soothing the irritation itching under your skin. “They would come in just to get a look at me. Like my grief was some kind of spectator sport.”

“I can’t imagine having that kind of loss broadcast to the entire world,” you said, glancing at a newspaper stand plastered in the Daily Prophet.

“It’s inhumane,” he replied, stopping in front of the ice cream shop. “But, I’m grateful for it too.”

You raised an eyebrow, facing him in the warm glow of the window.

“Everyone knows how amazing he was,” he murmured, his voice thickening with emotion. He looked down at your joined hands, playing with your fingers. “He’s a hero.”

You squeezed his hand, prompting him to look up at you. “So are you, George," you said, inflecting as much sincerity as you could into your voice. "Y’know, I was there that day, when you and Fred left Hogwarts?”

His eyes widened. “You were?”

You nodded. “I was two years under you, we wouldn’t have crossed paths,” you said, trying to assuage the needless guilt that crossed his face. “But I’ll never forget that moment, watching you guys reclaim the magic that makes Hogwarts, well, Hogwarts. You inspired all of us left behind.”

He gave you a sad smile, his eyes shiny with unshed tears, and brought your knuckles to his lips, brushing a kiss across them. “Thank you for telling me that,” he whispered. “You didn’t get burned, did you?” He asked, worry suddenly creasing his brow.

You giggled. “No, no. No one was hurt besides Umbridge's ego.”

He exhaled, flashing a relieved smile. “Okay, good. Because that would have been a terrible first impression.” He opened the door to the ice cream shop, gesturing for you to step inside.

“My first impression was when you turned Ms. Norris purple during the Halloween feast,” you said, stepping past him and into line, the smell of waffle cones and caramel wafting over you.

George barked a laugh, his head falling back with the force of it, and you smiled. “Better, I suppose.”

“It’s not like I made a great first impression on you, weeping like a sap as soon as I stepped into your store,” you joked, too busy gazing up at his smiling face to notice the line move forward without you.

He shook his head, still chuckling. “No, it was a perfect first impression.”

You ordered your bowls of ice cream, Peppermint Marshmallow Mayhem for George and Gingerbread Dreams for you, and sat at a corner booth by the window, talking about nothing in particular for awhile while you ate.

“So, how’s your brother doing today? You mentioned he had some imaging this afternoon?” George asked, genuine concern creasing his brow.

“He’s doing well, actually. No pneumonia, by Godric’s grace, and his fever broke this afternoon. Still not sure what caused it, but hopefully nothing of concern,” you answered, you heart lifting at his relieved smile.

“Good, I’m really glad to hear that. Now, let me try your ice cream.” He waggled his spoon and you laughed, sliding it towards him. He took the tiniest spoonful, flipping it over to lick it off, and your cheeks warmed at the way his tongue caressed the curve of the spoon.

You knew you were caught when he smirked around the utensil, but he let it slide.

“Here, try mine.” He dug a spoonful out of his bowl, holding it out for you to take a bite with a borderline sinful look in his eye.

“George Weasley,” you teased, shaking your head. “You are such a flirt.”

“Can you blame me? I’m sitting across from my dream woman,” he replied, grinning.

Now your cheeks were really warming, and you leaned forward to take a small bite off the edge of his spoon. Sugary peppermint and creamy marshmallow coated your tongue, and you moaned.

“Good?” he asked, raising a brow.

“Delicious,” you giggled, watching as he ate the rest of the spoonful, and wondered how it would taste on his tongue.

After ice cream, you continued wandering around Diagon Alley, peeking in all the shop windows and sipping warm butter beer, until your noses were pink from the chill, your hair full of glittering snow.

You stopped outside of his shop, the sign flipped to ‘closed’ and only a few lights on inside along with the exterior holiday decor, presumably left on for George.

“I have a confession to make,” he said, stepping a little closer to you.

Your heart pounded in your chest, a thrill of excitement pulsing through you. “What?” You asked, picking invisible lint of his lapel just to have something to do with your hands.

“I’ve been wanting to kiss you since I saw you watching the carolers,” he murmured, sliding his glove off and reaching out to cradle your face, his touch gentle, giving you every opportunity to pull away.

You leaned your head into his large palm, gazing up at him, freckled, flushed, and starry-eyed. You’d never seen someone look at you with adoration before, and it made your soul sing.

Instead of saying anything, you rose onto your toes and pressed your lips to his, a quick, airy peck. But when you went to move back, his hand held you in place, lips just barely touching.

“Again,” he breathed, his other hand coming around to rest on your lower back. “Please?”

You gave the tiniest nod, feeling like your heart might burst out of your chest, and his lips connected with yours again in a slow, languid kiss, the taste of ice cream and butter beer and him making your head go a little fuzzy, your right foot popping up behind you as you leaned into his embrace.

His tongue caressed the seam of your mouth, but he didn’t push further, just a small tease before winding the kiss down until it ended the way it started, with a few barely-there pecks in reluctant departure.

You sighed against him, lowering back onto flat feet, and he smiled, drawing you into his chest for hug. You slipped you arms under his coat, feeling the softness of his sweater and the warmth of his body envelop you.

“Thank you for this,” you murmured. “I really, really needed it.”

He pressed a kiss to the top of your head, his arms tight around your body. “So did I. Can we do it again tomorrow? Breakfast? Sunrise picnic?”

You chuckled, tilting your chin up to rest on his sternum. “Breakfast sounds great.”

George beamed, dropping a warm kiss to the frozen tip of your nose. “I’ll pick you up at nine?”

“It’s a date.” You stole one last kiss before slipping away, practically skipping.

You and George saw each other every day for the next week, whether it was to wander around Diagon Alley, looking at the lights and festivities, or grabbing a quick cup of tea between busy shifts. Neither of you could stand being apart for more than a few hours at a time.

Tonight, George invited you to his flat for dinner and muggle Christmas films, and you were dressed in the ugliest Christmas sweater you could find. With a timid hand, you knocked on his door.

It opened under you fist, revealing George on the other side, wearing a maroon sweater with a giant ‘G’ on the front of it and a sauce splattered apron.

“Hey, love.” He tugged you inside, pressing an eager kiss to your lips before ushering you down the hall, his deft fingers unraveling your scarf from your neck and peeling the coat from your shoulders. You laughed at his haste, spinning and hopping as he removed your boots. He stopped only when he finally saw your sweater. “Oh, darling. You look ravishing.” His hands fell to your waist and he pulled you into his chest, a mischievous grin on his face. “Very fashion forward.”

“Thank you, baby,” you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck. You hadn’t called him that before, but it just rolled right off your tongue, natural as breathing.

He loosed a pleased hum, leaning forward to capture your lips in another, slower kiss. “Like hearin’ you call me baby,” he mumbled against your mouth.

The oven beeped loudly, startling you both.

“Hungry?” He asked with a shy smile.

“Starved.”

He showed you to the dining room, a round table with a vase of flowers at the center, candles strewn on every surface. He pulled a chair out for you and you sat, accepting a kiss on the cheek before he dashed back into the kitchen.

You looked around, having been too caught up in his frantic greeting to take in the space. The rest of the flat was sparsely decorated, purely functional, besides a sagging bookshelf in the living room, and a few photos along the hallway. Not a Christmas decoration was in sight.

George returned with two glasses of wine, the bottle tucked under his arm. “Here we go, a little Pinot Noir for my gorgeous girl.” He set the glasses down then finally sat down in his chair.

“Thank you, baby,” you teased, and he smirked, withdrawing his wand from his apron and waving it towards the kitchen. A moment later, a giant bowl full of pasta, a basket of bread, a salad bowl, and two plates came hovering out of the kitchen, arranging themselves neatly on the table.

“Bon appetite.” He raised his wine glass, a shy little smile on his face, and you raised yours to cheers, so charmed you could cry.

Two hours later, you were curled up on George’s couch, half enjoying Home Alone, half enjoying the feel of each other’s skin under your sweaters, the rich taste of wine on each other’s tongues.

“How come you haven't decorated for Christmas?” You mumbled between languid pecks, his soft lips moving to trail over your jaw.

“Didn't much feel like celebrating this year,” he replied, kissing down your neck, his tongue tracing your pulse.

“And yet here we are, watching corny holiday films,” you chuckled and felt him smile against your neck.

“Things changed.” He lifted his head, capturing your lips in a heavy, open-mouthed kiss that made your blood warm, your heart beat a little quicker in your chest.

Suddenly, something slammed against the window, a frantic scrabbling against glass that had George springing up like something electrocuted him.

“Errol?” George moved toward the window. “No, what the fuck—”

“Oh my god, what are you doing here?!” You cried, jumping up and throwing open the window. Your family owl flew in, landing on the back of the couch. Fear pumped through you and you snatched the letter from his beak, rougher than the poor bird deserved in your panic.

“What is it?” George rested his hands on your hips as you tore it open.

The words on the card made your heart stop.

Mungo’s now, Mum

“George,” you whimpered, sagging against him as terror rocked through you.

He took the letter from your hand and skimmed it. “Go get your coat on, I’ll take you.”

“I—” You were frozen, darkness pulsing at the edges of your vision.

His hands came up to hold your face, shaking you gently. “Honey, we have to go. I’m going to be right here with you, okay? We’re going together. But we have to move now.”

You nodded, clawing through the sludge of fear and clinging to the thread of stability he offered. He helped you into your coat and shooed the owl out, not even bothering to lock up before he was ushering you into his chest.

“Hold onto me,” he ordered, and you did, and suddenly the world was sucked away, a dizzying, horrible tornado of space, and then it spit you back out on the front steps of St. Mungo’s.

“Holy shit,” you gagged, clutching onto George and he held you upright.

“Sorry, love. Never apparated before?” He asked, rubbing your back.

You shook your head.

“Y/n!”

George stiffened, his hands tightening on you, and you looked up.

“Mum!” You cried, rushing to her.

“Oh, hun. I’m sorry to frighten you, he’s okay. Just a scare. I’m so sorry, darling,” she cried, clinging to you.

“Sh, no, it’s alright. I should be here,” you soothed, squeezing your eyes shut to stop the tears from falling. “What happened?”

“He couldn’t breathe, his lungs—pneumonia again,” your mom hiccuped, wiping at her cheeks. “Who’s that?” She asked, looking over your shoulder.

George was were you had left him, hands stuffed in his pockets, his eyes bouncing from you and your mom to the strangers mingling on the sidewalk. You could tell his hackles were raised, some protective instinct roused when he’d been startled by the owl.

You waved him over. “Mum, this is George Weasley. George, this is my mum.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” George said, offering her a hand and a shy smile.

She clutched his hand hard and you both winced. “I-you-Weasley—The George Weasley?” She gasped.

“Just George is fine,” he said with a nervous chuckle.

“Oh my, I just can't believe—”

“Mum, can we go see him now?” You interrupted, anxious to see that he was well yourself. “I promise you'll have a proper introduction later.”

“Yes, of course. This way.” She released George and grabbed your hand, pulling you towards the hospital.

George hesitated, until you reached your hand out to him. He immediately threaded your fingers together, falling into step with your frantic mother.

A few moments later, you rushed into your brother's room, finding him upright and smiling, some new tubes in his little nose, but all together looking well.

“Mum, I said to leave her alone!” He argued, crossing his arms over his reindeer pj's.

“Hush you,” you scolded lightly, wrapping him up in a hug and kissing his forehead, noting his lingering fever. “How are you feeling, darling?” You asked, pulling back to hold his face.

“M'okay. They let me have some ice lollies earlier!” He chirped, sticking out his neon blue tongue.

You grinned. “I see, that's excellent.”

He opened his mouth to say something else, but then you saw his eyes widen, mouth falling open in shock. You turned to see what he was looking at and realized it was George, who was loitering in the doorway.

“Is that—” your brother started, and George looked up. “Wizard—Wizard Wheezes!”

George’s solemn expression shattered into a wide smile as he stepped into the room, his energy shifting instantly. “Hello, mate! I’m George. Heard your not feeling so good?” George reached out to shake his little hand, and he took it, his fingers dwarfed by George's palm.

“No, no. I'm fine!” Your brother replied, shock melting into excitement. “What are you doing here?”

George glanced down at you. “Your sister has been telling me all about you, and how strong you've been lately,” he said, crouching down beside the bed. “She loves you a lot, y’know?”

You stepped out of the way, tears starting to burn behind your eyes. Your mother slipped her hand into yours, watching the interaction with a hand pressed to her mouth.

“I know, but she worries too much,” your brother answered, and George burst out laughing.

“That's what happens when you love someone,” George replied, smiling. “You want to protect them from anything that might hurt them, even if you know you can't.”

“I’m big like you, I don't need protecting!” He argued.

George nodded, pressing a hand to his chest apologetically. “I can tell. But that doesn't mean they don't want to try anyways. And big guys like us have to protect them in return, yeah?”

Your brother nodded, puffing up his chest. “I'll never let anything happen to my sister. I promise!”

You blew him a kiss, and George gave him a high five.

“That's my buddy. Now, let's see if I've got anything special for heroes like you.” George fished around in his pocket, making dramatic faces while he rummaged in what you thought was an empty pocket.

But then he withdrew what appeared to be a toy airplane that would in no way, shape, or form fit in that pocket without magic. Your brothers face lit up when George threw it in the air and it started to fly, ducking and whizzing around the room.

“Hm, that wasn't what I was looking for,” George said with a dramatic frown, and you giggled. He glanced over his shoulder at you, breaking his frown to smirk at your reaction, and started fishing around in his pockets again.

He pulled out a bouncing ball, then a rubber chicken, a set of chattering teeth, a stuffed teddy bear. Item after item came out of his pockets until your brothers bed was covered in toys and gag items, and a dozen nurses were watching in amazement from the hallway. You and your mom were fighting through silent tears, your heart so big you felt it might explode out of your chest.

Most importantly, your brother was ecstatic, playing with this and that and chattering away at George about the different products and teaching him how to do magic tricks George himself had invented.

But half an hour later, your brother’s nurse came in to administer some of his medication and get him ready for bed. He tried to protest, but his new best friend, George, managed to talk him into not only compliance, but eager acceptance of his medicine.

You stole George away into the now quiet hall, Christmas lights illuminating the dark corridor, and threw your arms around his shoulders, burying your face into his neck, needing to feel him close, to ground you through the onslaught of emotions.

He wrapped his arms around you, his head turning to kiss your temple. “Need some air?” He murmured, and you shook your head no.

“Just need you,” you whispered, holding him tighter.

He let you cry into his shoulder, rubbing soothing circles onto your back and murmuring reassurances into your hair. When you'd exhausted yourself, you pulled back and he reached up to hold your face, wiping your tears with his thumbs.

“Thank you for doing that,” you sniffled, sliding your hands down his chest, his sweater soft beneath your palms.

“It was my pleasure, love,” he replied, looking you in the eye. “You—him—this, I needed this. Needed you,” he breathed, voice tightening. “I forgot why we did it all, what all the sacrifices were for, and you reminded me. He reminded me.”

You rose on your toes to press a kiss to his lips, not knowing how else to express how you were feeling that wasn't, well, insanely soon.

He kissed you back, passionate enough to steal your breath, but released you when the door to your brother's room opened.

“Darling—oh, I'm sorry. Darling, would you like to come get a cup of coffee with me?” Your mother asked, clearly fighting a grin at discovering you.

“Sure, mum,” you exhaled, reluctantly stepping away from George. “You okay for a minute?”

“Absolutely, I'll keep an eye on him.” He pressed a kiss to your knuckles before releasing you to your mother, a soft smile on his face.

When you returned twenty minutes later, you found George stretched out in the arm chair pulled up right next to your brother’s bed, Rudolph on the television.

“—Fred managed to get the deer into the kitchen with some carrots and loaf of banana bread, and kept him distracted while I tied bells and ornaments—mom’s favorite’s, of course—to it’s antlers.”

Your brother was giggling, curled up with the stuffed bear George conjured earlier, his eyes heavy as he fought to stay awake to hear the story.

“But then we ran out of banana bread and Fred tried to give it some cookies, but by then the deer had discovered the Christmas tree in the corner, with the popcorn strings and cranberries and salt dough ornaments, y’know? So the deer started eating the bloody Christmas tree and we cannot get it out of the house now. It’s found the best sodding snack on earth. So by the time my mom get’s home, half the tree is gone, there’s shi—dirt all over the house, dishes are broken, holes in the walls—”

“What did she do?” Your mom asked, laughing. “I would have sent you out to live with the deer and it’s family.”

George grinned. “We ate nothing but carrots and banana bread for a week. Even for Christmas dinner. It was torture,” he chuckled, turning back to your brother, only to find him sound asleep. “That boring, huh?” He joked, rising from the chair so your mom could take it. But instead, she pulled him in for a hug, surprising him.

“Thank you for doing this, and I’m so sorry about your brother. But I know he’d be so proud of you today,” she murmured, and you saw George’s eyes well, his jaw flexing as he tried to fight it. Your mom pulled back, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then smoothing away her lipstick with her thumb. “You’re a wonderful, wonderful man, George Weasley. And I’m so glad you’re here.”

He nodded, a tear streaking down his face. “Thank you, ma’am. That’s very k-kind.”

Your mother passed him to you, his hand gripping your tightly as he fought to keep his composure. “Goodnight, mum. I’ll see you in the morning?”

Your mother nodded, waving you away while she kissed your brothers cheek.

You led George out of the room and down the hall, finding an empty room to slip into. As soon as the door closed behind you, he sank to his knees, great, heaving sobs wracking his body. You lowered yourself to the ground with him, pulling his head into your shoulder and rocking him back and forth, his tears soaking through your sweater and shaking your whole body.

“I miss him,” George gasped like he was in pain, his grip almost bruising around your body.

“I know, baby. I know you do,” you said into his hair, holding his head against your chest. Your own tears began to spill then, for him, for you, for your family, and his, and you clung to one another as the overwhelming grief took it’s pound of flesh.

Slowly, he began to settle, breathing labored, but his tears subsiding. He lifted his head, looking at you through tear-brightened eyes, his lashes dark and spiked with moisture. You leaned forward, kissing away the droplets on his cheeks and jaw, until you felt him start to smile.

“I-it’s been so long since I—” he cleared his throat, reaching up to cup your face, wiping away your tears with his thumb. “I was numb for awhile, so long I sort of forgot what anything else felt like. I meant what I said earlier, you reminded me of what I’d lost, but in the best way.” Tears welled up again, but he smiled through them. “He would have been so fucking jealous that I got you. But Merlin, he would have loved you so much.”

You huffed a laugh, lower lip trembling as your heart soared. “George,” was all you could manage, and he leaned forward to kiss you, rising onto his knees and pulling into into his chest.

Then, that wild spinning sensation enveloped you again, and in a blink you were back on his couch, exactly as you were before, the credits to the movie rolling on the screen, your glasses of wine exactly where you left them.

“Stay with me tonight,” he asked, trailing kisses down your neck as you reoriented yourself. “Tomorrow’s Christmas Eve, we could spend it together.” He lifted his head to look you in the eyes, and you nodded eagerly.

“Yeah,” you said, laughing as he rained kisses over your face. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Thank you so much for reading!

I hope you have the most wonderful holiday season and start of the new year <3

[f1cflcfic]

The Prophecy (SMAU ft. Lando Norris) Part II

pairing: lando norris x singer!reader (y/n)

summary: what happens after the break-up that noone saw coming? as Y/N L/N gears up to release her next album, each song reveals a little bit of the past, present and future of her relationship with Lando Norris. Inspired by a curated playlist built around "The Prophecy".

note: this is RPF and is obviously in no way, shape, or form reflective of real persons.

genre: social media au, angst, exes to lovers, happy ending

part i

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥

September, 2026

[Excerpt from Kelly Clarkson interview with Y/N]

“We’re so excited to have y/n l/n with us today, I can’t get your latest song out of my head. It’s really such a great revival of the sultry pop ballads,” Kelly says joyously, and y/n can’t help but smile.

“Thank you! That means a lot coming from you – I grew up watching you on American Idol, I can’t believe I’m even sitting across from you now.”

“Oh my god, stop! You’re gonna make me feel real old. Congratulations again on your Grammy for your sophomore album, All I Ever Needed. How did it feel going into your new project with that in the back of your mind?”

Y/N shuffles uncomfortably on the couch. “Hmm thank you. I – well, it was really different. The songs I wrote on there were coming from this feeling of bliss which was fading fast by the time the Grammy’s rolled around. I had to figure out what kind of artist I am if I’m not in love, or writing about happiness. It felt embarrassing. I don’t like being vulnerable, but I love sharing love. So it was hard for me, not gonna lie. But I’m happy that we got there in the end.”

“Wow, well I was able to listen to a few other songs on this record. I gotta say, I think it’s by far your best record yet. And did you write on all of the songs this time around again?”

Y/N nods her head, a small smile creeping back up on her face. “Yeah, I did. It turns out that writing about sad things can be really cathartic. But I really want people to know that it doesn’t mean this isn’t an album about love. At the end of the day, each of these songs are love letters to every single moment or person that made me feel something – for better or worse.”

early October, 2026

[Transcription of Capital FM segment with Y/N]

“We’ve got Y/N L/N with us here on Capital FM, and we’re about to play a quick round of Never Have I Ever! Are you ready?”

Y/N smiles, holding a paddle with “I Have” and “I Have Never”. “Sure, as ready as I’ll ever be.”

“Great! Now first one: Never have I ever… regifted a gift someone bought me.”

“Ooooh, not a gift someone bought me. But things I have been sent or given in goodie bags I’ve definitely regifted,” Y/N says, and raises the “I Have Never” paddle.  

“That’s alright! I think that’s not too bad. In fact, I’d volunteer to get something regifted from you,” the host laughs. “I usually donate it, but next time I’ll keep you in mind!”

“Perfect. Next one: Never have I ever slid into someone’s DMs”

Y/N rolls her eyes and raises the “I Have” paddle. “Who hasn’t? If people say they haven’t, they’re just lying to you.”

“Who’s the most famous person who’s ever been in your DMs?” The host asks, and Y/N laughs. “Hmm Taylor Swift, maybe?”

“You’re good friends, aren’t you?” Y/N nods. “Yeah, I actually wrote ‘how did it end?’ during a studio session with her.”

“Hmm that brings me to the next question – never have I ever written a song about an ex.”

Again, Y/N raises the “I Have” paddle, but then twists it so it’s halfway. “I think sometimes, no scratch that, I think almost always songs work way better when they’re open for interpretation. Isn’t it nice how everyone can take something else from it, that way?”

“Have you ever gotten back together with an ex?” The host asks, and Y/N makes a ‘tsk’ noise. “Never! First rule in the book, or so my friends tell me all the time.”

"Even when the heart wants what it wants?"

"Even then."

mid October, 2026

[Excerpt from Call Her Daddy episode with Y/N]

“I think in many ways this album is the most naked I’ve ever felt in my emotions. But maybe that’s actually a good thing,” Y/N grins.

“They do say that sex sells,” Alex (Cooper) responds, and Y/N chuckles. “You’ll find hardly any of that on this album.”

“That’s not entirely true, there’s a song on there with some explicit lyrics,” she adds.

“Undrunk? Funnily enough, that one was probably one of the easier ones to write because it actually felt the furthest removed from myself? It’s inspired by, but not based on my own experiences. I’d say it’s my unlived life,” Y/N tries to explain.

“Talk to me about that. People are always quite eager to pinpoint all experiences of a celebrity. They know who you’ve dated, look for clues and dissect every lyric. How do you decide what to share and what not to share?”

“I think it’s sort of why I wanted to share ‘how did it end?’. Even the title track is me addressing the fact that everyone feels entitled to determine my love story. Including me, I think everyone tries to engineer or hack happiness at one point in their life. But it doesn’t work like that. And at the same time, it’s important for me to try and have some semblance of control over my own narrative, my feelings, my sense of self. And that also goes for the people whose presence in my life inspired me to write these songs. For better or worse, I’m grateful for it.”

Alex smirks. “Look, we can’t avoid the topic here. We all know that one of those people is Formula One driver Lando Norris. He’s also got a lot of very dedicated fans, who’ve been clamoring under every post of yours to leave him alone ever since you started dating. How did, and do you deal with that? It would have been easy to erase him from your social media, once the relationship ended, but you chose not to do that. Was that a conscious decision on your end, or something you ever discussed?”

Y/N takes a sip of water, and purses her lips. “I kinda feel like it’s just not really my place to expand on that – it’s between Lando and his fans. Like, it actually has nothing to do with me, I feel. If people are surprised I didn’t delete like three photos, it’s just because I like them – it’s not that deep. I can still cherish good moments, even when they’re in the past. I’m not embarrassed or ashamed of the fact that my ex was part of my life. But it’s not for me to comment on it beyond that. He’s well within his rights to want to delete them, and he doesn’t need to explain to anyone – not to me, not to his fans, anyone why he did it.”

“But it’s more than that. It does seem to imply he doesn’t like the association. And yet you referenced him in the video for “Jaded”. It’s caused some controversy,” she prods a little more.

Y/N snorts. “I was just paying homage to my co-writer, and her iconic 7 Things video. But it’s also partly me taking that ownership. A video is one of the few spaces where you can set the scene. If I wanted to expand on it, I’d have done it through art. People will be mad either way, and the props don’t add anything you can’t already infer from the lyrics.”

“Has he listened to it?”

“Have you?” Y/N counters. Alex smiles, then moves on.

end of October, 2026

[The Independent excerpt]

Y/N L/N reveals tracklist to her third album as anticipation grows!

An obvious contender for the BRITs, is what the first reviews are saying about L/N's latest record “Jaded”. The LP will arrive in just two weeks, but up until today we did not know the exact runtime of the highly anticipated album. After posting to her Instagram, Y/N L/N revealed that the regular version of The Prophecy will count 12 tracks, with the deluxe edition raising that to a comfortable 16. Fans will surely be delighted to know that they can purchase various versions, all contributing to what is looking to be a very easy chart victory.

Talking to Jimmy Fallon earlier this week, L/N stated that she hopes her fans will listen to the album in its running order. “I know it’s really tempting to skip straight to your favourite, but I spent ages ruminating over how to tell my story in the best way – so I hope that translates.”

So far, all official singles of “The Prophecy” have charted both in the Official Top 20 as well as the Billboard Top 40, with The Heart Want What It Wants peaking on top, and Jaded just outside the top 10 at #11.

♥･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♡･*:.｡ ｡.:*･ﾟ♥ I was soooooo happily surprised by the response to the previous part that I hurried up to post this :) Any comments, likes, reblogs, asks are super appreciated. ♥ Part III will follow shortly, it'll be four parts in total. for those interested, official tracklist songs

how did it end? - Taylor Swift / The Heart Wants What It Wants - Selena Gomez / Jaded - Miley Cyrus / Lie to Girls - Sabrina Carpenter / Breakeven - The Script / The Prophecy - Taylor Swift / Stay - Gracie Abrams / Science + Faith - The Script / Moral of the Story ft. Niall Horan - Ashe / Undrunk - Fletcher / Vertigo - Griff / No More Sad Songs - Little Mix / Paper Hearts - Tori Kelly / Into You - Julia Michaels / Supercut - Lorde / Genesis - Dua Lipa

[melosliving]

aaron pierre n kelvin harrison jr x actress!reader

reading thirst tweets !

Sitting in your chair for what felt like hours now, you fidgeted with your fingers, trying to calm your racing mind. Today, you were having an interview with Kelvin and Aaron, and for once, you were the first one to plant your pretty self in the assigned chair, right in front of the numerous cameras.

Surprisingly, interviews were always stressful for you. You actually hated them, but because you loved your job so much, you were willing to endure this overwhelming experience. “Look who’s on time for once!” aaron teased, making you lift your head to see both guys standing in front of you, their cologne lingering faintly in the air. They looked good. “And wearing heels? Damn, you look good, good,” Kelvin added with a smirk, sitting to your left.

“Thank you, boo. You both smell amazing, but my allergies might kick in,” you joked, crossing your legs with a light laugh. “What’s on the agenda today ?” Aaron asked, looking between you and Kelvin. “We’re reading thirst tweets,” you replied, burying your head in your hands. You already knew this was going to be chaotic.

“Y’all ready?” one of the staff members asked, approaching with a phone in hand. You nodded along with the guys but extended your hand to take the phone, resting it casually on your lap. The filming lead gave you a small nod, signaling that the video had started. “Hello there, I’m ❁, and I’m here with my handsome–” you began with a playful grin.

“Wow,” Kelvin interrupted, smirking.

“Talented, brilliant–” you continued, teasing as the two men echoed a dramatic “Woooooow!” in unison, both laughing at you.

“And charming co-stars, Aaron Pierre and Kelvin Harrison Jr. Today, we are reading your nastiest tweets!” you finished, giggling as they clapped dramatically. “I’m actually so ready for this,” Kelvin laughed. “Let me read the first one.” He reached for the phone and gently took it from your lap. “Okay, so the first one says : ‘I just want Kelvin to grab my butt, is that so hard to ask?’”

Your eyebrows shot up as you looked directly at the camera. “That’s a crazy thing to say,” Aaron laughed. “Are you sure you just want him to grab your ass, though ? He could do so much more, girl.” you teased, turning to Kelvin, who raised an eyebrow at the camera with a cheeky smirk.

“Actually, that’s not too much to ask,” Kelvin admitted, leaning back in his chair.

You grabbed the phone back, handing it to Aaron. “Doggy, missionary, cowgirl, reverse cowgirl—okay, I need to stop because my mom might watch this,” Aaron read, his face turning red as he broke into laughter. “Why are you so shy ?” you teased, nudging him playfully. “stop playing with me,” Aaron muttered, flicking your forehead lightly.

“Every time ❁ speaks french, I get pregnant ! Mind you, I am a woman,” you read next, aaron’s laughter barely contained. You turned dramatically to look at both men. “Actually, if you think her french is hot, wait till you hear her Spanish–” Kelvin began, pointing at you. Before he could finish, you slapped your hand over his mouth. “Oh my god, stop him!” you exclaimed, laughing.

The crew erupted into laughter as Kelvin leaned closer and whispered, “You’re gonna have to let me finish that later thought.” You rolled your eyes at him but couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips.

Kelvin took the phone back, still giggling. “Alright, this one says : ‘Kelvin can ruin my life. Like… destroy me emotionally, financially, physically. I’m free Tuesday, by the way.’”

“Tuesday’s no good for me, but maybe next Friday,” Kelvin quipped, glancing at the camera with a grin. You groaned, laughing. “Not you checking your schedule! That’s crazy.” you teased. Aaron shook his head, leaning over to read the next one. “‘Aaron Pierre could sneeze in my direction, I would say thank you, daddy.’” He burst out laughing, handing the phone back to you. “Wow, so we’re sneezing now? That’s where we’re at?” Aaron joked, shaking his head.

“Let me take the last one,” you said, scrolling to another tweet. “‘I would let ❁ step on my neck in heels and say thank you for the opportunity.’”Kelvin turned to look at your feet. “And she got the heels on and everything. Don’t let this opportunity go to waste!” You rolled your eyes dramatically, laughing. “Y’all are ridiculous!”

By the end of the shoot, the three of you were exhausted from laughing so much. As the cameras turned off, Kelvin leaned in with a soft smile. “You know,” he said quietly, “you really are the epitome of charming. And you know I mean that.”

You couldn’t help but blush and push him as Aaron interjected, “there he goes again.” The three of you burst out laughing one last time, ending the day on a high note.

@ melosliving 2025

[the-offside-rule]

Castiel (Supernatural) - Baby Winchester

Requested: yes

Prompt: Cas being like a guardian angel to Y/n and Dean's baby

Warnings: none

Y/n stirred awake to the faint sound of her daughter’s cries through the baby monitor. She squinted at the clock on the nightstand; 3:14 am. Beside her, Dean was sprawled on his stomach, snoring softly, clearly exhausted from his recent hunting trip. She sighed, her heart swelling with affection. He needed rest. Silently, she reached over, turned off the baby monitor, and leaned down to kiss his cheek. "Thisis for your own good, Winchester." She whispered before slipping out of bed.

Padding softly down the hall, she stopped at her daughter’s room. The dim nightlight cast a soft glow across the nursery, and her breath hitched when she noticed someone standing by the crib. "You know, peopleusually knock before they come in." She said, gently knocking on the doorframe. Castiel turned sharply, startled. "Y/n. I apologize. I didn’t mean to intrude. I’ll leave now." She stepped inside, her expression calm. "It’s okay. What are you doing here?" Castiel shifted uncomfortably, his gaze flickering back to the baby. "I… thought something was wrong." He said, but the lie was transparent, his usual stoicism faltering. Y/n chuckled softly. "Cas, you’re a terrible liar. What’s really going on?"

He sighed, looking at the baby. "It… has no arms." Y/n blinked before realizing what he meant. "Oh no, Cas. She’s swaddled. Here, look." She gently unwrapped the blanket, freeing her daughter’s tiny arms. "See? She’s fine." Castiel tilted his head, his intense blue eyes studying the baby. "Ah. I see. My mistake." He stepped back awkwardly. "Well, if I’m not needed-"

"Wait-" Y/n interrupted, her tone warm. "I need to feed her anyway. Would you like to hold her and feed her downstairs?" His eyes widened slightly. "You would trust me with this?" Y/n chuckled at the ever-so-serious face Cas had made so many times before. "Of course. You're a literal angel." She said, scooping her daughter up. "Come on." He hesitated, then nodded, following her downstairs.

In the living room, Castiel perched stiffly on the armchair, glancing around the cozy space as Y/n went to the kitchen to prepare a bottle. When she returned, she handed him the baby, guiding him on how to hold her properly. "Like this." She said, adjusting his hands. "Support her head." After a moment, he frowned. "No, no. Take it back. I fear I might break it." Y/n laughed softly. "Cas, you won’t break....it. Just relax." She handed him the bottle. "Now, feed her."

Castiel began feeding her, his expression softening as he watched the baby suckle. "Oh wow. Humans are remarkable." He murmured. "So fragile, yet so resilient. Especially the little ones." Y/n smiled, settling onto the couch. "You’re practically human yourself, Cas. You’re pretty remarkable too."

Before Castiel could respond, footsteps creaked on the stairs, and Dean appeared, holding a crowbar. His serious expression melted into one of surprise when he saw Castiel feeding their daughter. "What the hell’s going on?" Dean asked, setting the crowbar down. "Why’d you turn off the baby monitor? I thought something was wrong." Y/n shrugged, smiling sheepishly. "I wanted you to get some sleep. You looked exhausted."

"Why’d you say that this was for my own good? I thought you were possessed or something." Dean added. "And ypu didn't stop me then and there? You figured an extra ten minutes of beauty sleep would've helped you fight a demon better?" Dean rubbed the back of his neck, his gaze shifting to Castiel. "And what’s he doing here?" Y/n grinned. "Found us a babysitter." Castiel looked up. "I would be adequate for that position."

Dean chuckled, shaking his head. "As long as you don’t teach her any bad habits." Y/n scoffed, smirking at Dean. "I’d trust Cas to be a better influence than you." Dean smirked back, dropping onto the couch beside her. "You'd trust Cas?" She nodded. "I like Cas." Dean grabbed the remote and pulled her in closer. "You like me a lot too though, right?" She didn't answer, instead she grinned over to Cas. "Don’t give him that look. I know you two are gonna plot something against me soon enough."

"What? You don't live with Sam anymore so I can't plot anythin with him anytime soon."

[tab00-1nce51]

Vacation at the hotel with Aunt

Veronica : - Well, the nephew. How are you doing? Everything okay? Maybe you need something?

Veronica : - You know. Your Aunt Veronica is all for you. I'll do everything.

Nephew : - oh Aunt Veronica, thank you. I like everything, I'm happy with everything.

I am very glad that I am resting here with you. In this hotel. My vacation with you is my dream.

But there is one thing bothers me.

Veronica : - Which one, honey?

Nephew : - You said you'd do anything for me.

Veronica : - Yes. Tell me dear, what's bothering you?

Nephew : - I'm embarrassed to say this, but...

Veronica : - Go ahead, tell me.

Nephew : - I'm worried about your breasts.

Its so big. Beautiful, alluring.

I Can’t look anywhere elese.

I want to see her. 👀

Veronica : - Baby, this...

Nephew : - I'm sorry, I shouldn't have said that. I shouldn't have said that. I will go.

Veronica : - No, honey stay.

Veronica : - I wanted to say. I don't mind at all. If you want to see my breasts. I could help you with that.

Like i said. I will do everything to make my nephew happy.

Nephew : - Oh.. Wow Aunt Veronica are you serious?

Veronica : - Yes, baby. Do you want to see my breasts?

Nephew : - Yeah. Yeah..

Veronica : - Okay, you know what? I have an idea.

Sit in the chair and relax.

Nephew : - What are you doing?

Veronica : - I 'll show you now.

Nephew : - Oh, Aunt Veronica 💞

Veronica : - Just like that. You wanted my tits? You'll get them.

Yeah baby. Fuck my tits. I love it. ❤️

Veronica : - Yes, just like that. Oh. Do you want to f.. ck me in the mouth? Oh. Baby.

Slup.. Suck.. Mhm.. Whoa..

Nephew : - Yes, Aunt, take it in your mouth, oh yes. I f.. ck you between your boobs and you suck me. F.. ck Yeah.. 💦

Some time later..

Veronica : - Well.. You've finished all over my face, nephew.

Nephew : - I'm sorry for that. You're so hot. Sexual.

Veronica :- How do you like my idea, with my breasts? Did you like it?

Nephew : - oh,yes Aunt. You're just reading my mind. You're a sex bomb.

Veronica : - Thanks baby I liked it too. Ready for the second round?

Nephew : - Aunt Veronica, I can't believe it's happening. It's like a dream come true. Yes, I'm ready.

Veronica winked at her nephew, her face glistening with the evidence of his pleasure. She stood up from the bed, her voluptuous body moving with a seductive grace that seemed almost predatory. Walking over to the chair, she straddled him, her legs wrapping around his waist. With a knowing smile, she reached back and unclipped her bra, letting her ample breasts fall free. They were more than a handful, and her nipples were hard and pointed from the excitement of their little show.

Nephew stared up at her, his eyes glazed over with lust. He reached out and cupped her breasts, feeling their weight in his palms. He squeezed gently, watching as Veronica's eyes closed and she let out a soft moan. The room was filled with the sound of their heavy breathing and the rustling of fabric as they moved closer together.

Nephew leaned in and began to kiss her neck, his hands roaming over her soft skin. Veronica tilted her head back, giving him better access. His kisses grew more insistent, turning into nibbles and gentle bites that sent shivers down her spine. She could feel his erection pressing against her thigh and she knew that he was more than ready for round two.

With a seductive whisper, she leaned back and began to grind against him, her breasts bouncing with each movement. "I want you to fuck me, baby," she murmured into his ear. "Do you want to fuck me?"

The question hung in the air for a moment before the nephew nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. Veronica slid down off the chair and onto her knees, her breasts still out and her hands reaching for the zipper of his pants. She pulled out his erect cock and began to stroke it, her eyes never leaving his. "You want this?" she asked, her voice low and sultry.

The nephew nodded, his breath coming in ragged gasps. Veronica took him in her mouth, her lips wrapping around his shaft in a way that was both practiced and enthusiastic. She sucked hard, her tongue swirling around the head of his cock, and he couldn't help but groan. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with mischief as she took him deeper, her cheeks hollowing out.

Their eyes locked as she continued to suck him, her hands playing with his balls. He could feel the tension building in his body, his orgasm approaching like a freight train. He reached down and tangled his fingers in her hair, guiding her movements slightly.

With a final, deep moan, the nephew came in her mouth, and Veronica swallowed every drop, looking up at him with a satisfied smile. She stood up and took his hand, leading him back to the bed. "Let's not waste any more time," she said, pulling him down onto the mattress with her.

Their bodies tangled together, their kisses deepening as they explored each other's bodies. Veronica straddled him again, this time sliding down onto his cock with a gasp. She began to ride him, her breasts bouncing with each downward thrust. The room was filled with the sounds of their passion, and they both knew that this was just the beginning of their taboo rendezvous.

[sunnyie-eve]

52 | Tattoo

Series: Unexpected

Paring: Matt Sturniolo x OFC Brock!

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: Tara knows secret, fans being annoying

| MASTERLIST |

"Should we prank Dani?" Matt asks Nick and Chris while they were live on Twitch, "Like do something to her room?"

Chris looks down at his phone to see Dani texting him, who was at Tara's place watching them, "Oh Dani says... If any of us go into her room... She will..." Chris reads the texts.

"Of course she's watching us right now." Matt looks at Nick.

"But she said she will kill us if we pass through her doorway." Chris finishes reading the text, "Her room is off limits. If we don't listen to her, we're gonna regret it big big big time. So she says listen to her." He tells the two.

"Don't worry Dani." Nick smiles, "I'll listen to you. I stay out of your room when you're home. Unlike these two, mainly Matt."

Chris looks down at his phone and it was Dani telling him that the food he asked for was arriving, "I'll be right back." Chris leaves to go get his food.

As Matt tries to read chat he laughs saying he thinks he needs glasses while Nick reads so too, "Dani was in a Loony Tunes photoshoot."

"Lola Bunny." Matt says making Nick look at him, "What?"

"Stop."

"What? That's who she was in that shoot." Matt says then goes back to reading chat and they start talking about tattoos, "Matt, tattoo tour."

"Give them one." Nick tells him, "You only have this one arm tattooed right?"

"Yeah, there's two I've never shown people."

"Which ones?" Nick leans in to hear him.

"I can show them." Matt laughs.

"Matching set?"

"No, I'm not showing that one off and I have to take my shirt off to do so." Matt explains.

"So you're showing only this one?" Nick looks at the tattoo, "I think they've seen it."

"No, they've tried too. They've almost seen it. They've taken guesses."

"I think they've seen it." Nick sticks to it so Matt shakes his heads.

"Nope, never seen it." Matt turns to try to show it off.

"Dani wants one similar." Nick says, as Matt has trouble showing it off.

"It's a gargoyle." Matt finally shows it, "And then the back of my shoulder has the matching set."

"Same spot as Dani." Nick adds.

"I'm not showing it off because I just don't want to. It's super meaningful to me." Matt explains to chat as Chris comes back.

"Did you show them the matching set?" He asks him.

"What are you about to eat?" Nick looks at his food.

"Dani order what I wanted." Chris shrugs, "But did you show the matching set off?" Chris asks again.

"No, I told chat I wasn't going to."

"Why?" Chris asks curious because Dani doesn't try to hide hers from being seen.

"Because I personally don't want to show it off. As I said, it's super meaningful to me. I will say that mine is the moon while Dani has the sun but I'm still not showing it off."

"I kind of get it since some people like to get matching tattoos with people they're fans of and yours is meaningful to you." Nick speaks up and they see some of the chat saying why is it so meaningful if it's just with a friend.

"It's just with a friend..." Matt reads and can't help but roll his eyes, "Not just any friend, guys. It's with Dani and she's family now. Plus she designed our tattoos so they are personal to us." Matt explains.

"She did? I didn't even know that." Chris was surprised and Nick was too.

"Yeah, that's why it's my favorite tattoo."

"Wow, more than our matching set." Nick plays around.

"Way more. The tattoo is like my baby that I'm protective of." Matt laughs, and Dani, who was still watching them laughs as well with Tara.

"Someone said matching tattoos is something to be serious about." Nick reads and rolls his eyes a bit as well. Yeah, that was true with most people but not   Matt and Dani.

"It is, that's exactly why we got them. Thank you for worrying. I know exactly what I was doing. It was my idea and she designed it."

Tara can't help but laugh muting the live for a second to look at Dani, "Why did he want to get a tattoo with you?"

"At the time he said he wanted to make our bond stronger and permanent so he came up with the idea of a matching tattoo." Dani explains to her then unmutes the live.

At the moment the topic slightly changed but she was still the main focus of chat. "Dani's a pick me." Nick reads, "I'm gonna start banning people like you. If I or any decent person sees hate towards Dani will ban who said it."

"Do you even know the definition of pick me?" Chris asks, "She has never seeking our attention. It's actually the opposite. We seek her attention." Chris laughs making the girls laugh as well.

"As we've said in the past... Dani isn't going anywhere so love her as well or leave. Because she's really not going anywhere at the moment and I don't plan on it either." Matt tells chat and Tara screams startling Dani.

"YOU GUYS ARE SECRETLY DATING!" Tara jumps up and down screaming. "That was such a dead giveaway to me. At the moment! He doesn't plan on it either! AHHHHH!"

Dani watches Tara run around the room happily, "Are you done yet?" Dani laughs at her.

"AND YOU AREN'T DENYING IT! AHHH YES!!!!" Tara rushes over grabbing her by the shoulders shaking her, "I'M SO HAPPY!"

Dani just laughs at her, "I can tell."

"How long? Tell me everything!"

"Late March, I slipped up and he asked me out. I told him that if maybe he asked me instead of Chris, my answer would've be different." Dani tells her and Tara screams.

"THREE MONTHS! Who all knows?"

"Marylou, Justin, Madison, and you now. I think we're getting to the point where me might tell certain people like Nick, Chris, Sam, my family, Jimmy, and their friend Nate. I just really don't want to tell Colby, you know." Dani turns off the live.

"Well, he's gonna have to get over it. I know he likes Matt but only dislikes him when you're around. Out of anyone, Matt is someone he doesn't have to worry about dating you. Matt is so sweet and truly cares for you."

"Honestly, I haven't spoken to Colby since our fight we had. And no, I don't want to get into it right now." Dani leans back on the couch.

"I'm sure once he sees you two as a couple it will finally hit him that Matt makes you happy and feel loved." Tara smiles, "Anything else you wanna tell me?" Tara gives her a look.

"Hey, knock it off." Dani laughs, "You don't need to know all the details of my relationship with especially private stuff."

"I know, I know." Tara laughs then types in chat hoping the guys will see it and they don't but fans let them know Tara said hi.

"I don't trust you Tara." Matt looks right into the camera so Dani texts him she knows as well now.

"Dani!" He shouts then leans closer to the camera, "What the hell?" He asks so she calls him.

"Oh look, she's calling." He shows the camera his phone and her poster for when she calls was her giving Trevor a kiss as they sat on his bed back home and her name also had a heart after it.

Most people wouldn't care about the picture but some had pointed out she was in his room, wearing his shirt, and tiny boyshorts.

"What do you want?" He answers the phone.

"Why are you yelling at me through a livestream?" She asks him and he laughs before putting her in speaker.

"Hi Dani, Hi Tara." Nick waves.

"HIIII!" Tara yells then sees some of the comments, "Guys, Dani's name in my phone also has a heart after her name. It's not a big deal." She adds leaning closer to Dani's phone to be heard.

"Look." Nick grabs his phone to show he also had a heart next to Dani's name as well, "It's nothing."

"Chat, even in my phone each brother has their favorite color heart next to their name." Dani ;ets them know, "Okay, I'm turning y'all off so we can watch a movie. Love you guys." Dani says then hangs up then turns off the live.

"Some fans are so annoying." Tara rolls her eyes.

"I know and you deal with a lot with you still being close friends with Jake."

[maddy-k-reads-all-day]

Snow Day! - Kate is Alive AU part 3!

Part 2:

“So Riley, this is Margret. She works at the Kensdale Library with me.” Kate explained. 

“Nice to meet you…” Margret replied, “I see that you’re the one who put me in this difficult position!”  

“I’m… sorry?”

“Since Kate is supposed to be dead and now you’re missing, I had to explain why there was a dead body in Kate’s office to the police!” Margret explained, “Well… at least I managed to turn it in our favor.” she sighed, rubbing her temples. 

“YOU TOLD THE POLICE TO WATCH THE TAPES!” Kate shouted. Riley looks at Margret with panic and confusion. 

“Hold it. You’ve got it all wrong. I pinned the crime on Hameln in order to get the police to look into them more deeply.” 

“What did you say?” Riley asks. 

“I simply explained that I knew Joanne and a number of others were looking into a cult that had been involved in the kidnappings of multiple children. I said that the cult had been making anyone who was looking into them ‘disappear’.” “There’s no way they believed all that.” Kate sighed. 

“Oh they seemed to totally buy it actually.” Margret nodded, “Because I made sure to phrase it in a way that didn’t sound completely insane.” she said in a way that felt like a personal jab at Kate. “I showed them all the evidence I had on hand of the kidnappings. I showed them the letters from the parents whose kids watched the show. I explained that the cult had created the cartoon in order to brainwash children and make them easier to trick and lure away from home, as well as teaching dangerous lessons to make kids turn against their parents and go into unsafe places. I told them if they didn’t believe me they should watch the tapes themselves. They asked me if I had more evidence, and I said I’d be able to gather all of it for them and give it to them. We’re meeting again to discuss it on Saturday.” 

“We’re giving them ALL OF IT?!” 

“Kate, calm down. This is why we made copies of everything, remember?” 

“That’s actually really smart.” Riley marveled. 

“You can thank Peter for that.” Margret winked.

“So you need me to gather a copy of everything before then?” 

“Remember which of us has a job Kate?” Margret says, raising an eyebrow, “It shouldn’t take long, considering I organized it all.” 

“Organized she says…” Kate sighs, rolling her eyes. Margret furrows her brow. 

“It would be if you put things back where they belong!”

“Ugh fine…” 

“Um… so I guess I’ll watch the next tape by myself then?” 

“No, I'll watch it with you.” Margret says, flopping down next to Riley. Kate looks appalled. Now that Margret was right next to them, Riley noticed the bags under her eyes. “Oh PLEASE I deserve a break don’t I? After I saved your behind again?” Kate sighed and rolled her eyes.  

“Well alright. Margret, this is Riley, my brother’s child.” Kate explained, “And they found out something interesting…” 

“What’s that?” Margret questioned. 

“When I watched the tape with them, they brought out an interesting side of Amanda and Wooly that we haven’t seen before… and we learned some interesting things from it.” 

“Oooh. Interesting. How’d you do it?” Margret asked, getting way too close to Riley’s face. 

“I didn’t do anything too crazy, I just answered incorrectly on purpose sometimes to see what they’d do.” 

“Oh I see, the exact thing Kate told me NOT to do unless strictly necessary.” “Look, we needed to gain Rebecca’s trust, so actively upsetting her didn’t seem wise.” 

“But Amanda says she trusts me.” 

“By some miracle.” Kate sighed before leaving the room. Margret looked over Riley’s shoulder at the tape they had. “Snow Day hm? I don’t think I’ve seen this one yet.” She takes it from Riley and places it into the VCR. “Let’s see what you got!” she laughed. The tape starts with Amanda and Wooly looking out a window. 

“Wow… it’s really coming down out there…” Wooly mumbles.

“You know what that means…” Amanda says excitedly. She looks at the screen and grins. “Hi there, I’m Amanda!” 

“Oh! And I’m Wooly!” Wooly smiles. Amanda keeps looking at the screen.

“Oh, it's you!” She gasps. “Hey we should play tag next time, okay?” The voice prompt appears.

“Sounds like a plan, a man… da!!” Amanda gives Margret a weird look. “Yeah I don’t know what that joke was supposed to be…”

“Do me a favor and never tell a joke again.” Amanda scoffs, “Anyway… today we’re having a snow day!” she cheers, jumping up and down. Wooly does not look so excited. “Oh! But before we go outside-” 

“Do we have to go outside?” Wooly groans. “It’s going to be so cold!” Amanda gives him an annoyed look. The tape glitches a bit. 

“That’s why we’ll need our snow gear!” Amanda beams. Three blue plastic bins appear. Each one has a different picture on it. The first has a picture of a snowflake. The correct answer. Riley observed. The second has a picture of a rain cloud. Why would your rain gear be in the attic? Riley wondered. The third has a picture of building blocks. Now those aren’t even clothes! “I pulled out these three bins from the attic! Can you tell me which one holds the winter clothes?” Amanda asks. Riley taps their finger on the TV screen at the rain cloud.

“No silly, that’s for rainy days!” Amanda smiles, “Try again!”  

“That wasn’t too weird…” Margret mumbles. Riley taps the bin with the building blocks on it. 

“Ugh… why did I even bother bringing this bin down?” Amanda grumbles, “try again.” Riley taps on the building blocks again. “Obviously that is not the answer!” Now only the snowflake box remains. Riley taps it. “That’s right! Now let’s get our snow gear o-” the tape freezes. Margret and Riley wait, but the TV stays frozen. 

“This TV is such a piece of junk. It does this all the time… all the TV needs is a good WHACK!” Margret says, smacking the tv. The tape unfreezes, Amanda and Wooly hold their heads in pain. 

“Ow!” Wooly shouts. 

“What was that for?” Amanda whines. The tape glitches. “Let’s get our snow gear on!” Amanda says. The tape fades in and out and now Amanda is dressed in her snow gear, wearing a puffy coat, gloves, snow pants, a warm hat, a scarf, and big winter boots. 

“Amanda… wears my snow-stuff?” 

“Not here.”

“Huh? Then where is it?”

“It’s not my job to keep track of your stuff Wooly.”  

“But I put my snow stuff in the box!”

“This is a bin.” 

“Then where’s the box with the snowflake on it?!” 

“Didn’t we throw all the boxes out recently?” Amanda asks. Wooly’s face goes blank. 

“Oh…” “Oh well.” Amanda shrugs.

“Guess I’m not going outside…” Wooly sighs. Amanda looks at Wooly and then at the bin.  

“Well my old winter stuff is here… I guess I’ll allow you to use it. Just this once…” she sighs, “Hold on…” Amanda gets up and leaves the screen for a couple seconds while Wooly puts on her old hat and gloves. Amanda returns with some old beat-up winter boots. 

“Amanda, I think this glove has a hole in it.” 

“Yeah Wooly, that’s why those are my old gloves.” 

“Why do you still have these? I’ve never seen you wear them…” 

“I don’t even know how they ended up here to be honest…” Amanda sighs sadly. She hangs her head low in silence for a couple of seconds. “Amanda… by any chance… Do you have a coat I could borrow?” 

“Do you really need a coat? I mean, you got all that wool, don’t you?” Amanda asks. 

“I mean…” 

“Ugh… fine.” She sighs, she takes off her scarf and wraps it around Wooly. “There, happy?”

“Amanda, this is not a coat…” 

“Well I’m not a genie Wooly. Deal with it.” Amanda suddenly claps her hands together, causing Wooly to flinch. “With that settled, let's go outside!” Amanda cheers. The tape glitches to Amanda and Wooly in a snowy backyard. It is still snowing. 

“Hey look Amanda, I can catch snowflakes on my tongue!” Wooly says, though it is a bit hard to understand him with his tongue out catching snowflakes. 

“What are you five?” Amanda scoffs. Wooly looks sad. “There are lots of things we can do on a snow day! My favorite thing to do is… is…” Amanda bends down and starts gathering snow into a ball then she turns around and chucks it at Wooly. “Snowball fight!”

“Oh I’m gonna get you for that!” Wooly bends over and makes an even bigger snowball that he chucks at Amanda. Amanda smoothly moves out of the way. 

“Miss me! Miss me!” she taunts, bending down to gather a new snowball.

“I won't miss again!” Wooly chuckles. Amanda glances behind her to see what Wooly’s up to and gets a snowball right in the face. She turns around and reveals her arms are full of snowballs. “Oh dear.” Amanda manages to hit him with half of them. 

“Grrrrr…” Wooly bends over and starts making another snowball. Amanda gasps and runs behind the picnic table, which she tips over to make a shield. Wooly looks up. “HEY THAT’S NOT FAIR!” Amanda hits him in the face with another snowball. “You're cheating!” Amanda turns to us and giggles. 

“I’m going to hide behind here and make snowballs and you can throw them at Wooly for me okay?” Amanda whispers. 

“Ooooh fun.” Margret grins, cracking her knuckles. Every time Amanda holds out a snowball, Margret would tap the screen directly at Wooly’s face. Then she noticed a glitch where she could just keep tapping the screen and Amanda wouldn’t even need to hand her a snowball.

“Uh…” Amanda looks confused and a little bothered by this.  

“What are you doing?!” Riley hissed. 

“What? It’s fun!” Margret cackled. 

“Until he gets angry!” 

“Haha! Wooly doesn’t get angry!” 

“ENOUGH OF THIS!” Wooly screams, throwing his scarf on the ground. Amanda watches him head back towards the house. 

“Wha? That’s not right… you’re supposed to come over and get me in the face with a snowball remember? That’s how this always goes!” Amanda calls out, sounding really disappointed. Wooly ignores her and storms inside. “Ugh now look at what you did. Now I can’t have my snowball fight.” Amanda pouts, crossing her arms. Then she looks at the snowball next to her and chucks it at the screen. “What should I do now? Should I build a snowman, go sledding, or make a snow angel?” she asks us. The voice prompt appears.

“Snow angel!” Riley calls out. Amanda smiles and flops down in the snow waving her arms and legs to create an angel. She gets up to see what she made and frowns. 

“It doesn’t really look like an angel.” she grumbles. It looks like an angelic version of a certain cartoon mouse. Riley thinks. She kicks snow over it and turns back to the screen. “What should I do now?” she asks. The voice prompt appears.

“Talk to Wooly. Get him to come back outside.” Margret suggested. Amanda scowls. She elbows Riley playfully. Ooooh.

“Wrong. The options were to go sledding or build a snowman.” Amanda explains in an annoyed tone. “Try again.”

“Talk to Wooly.” both Riley and Margret said in somewhat unison. Amanda looks annoyed at the idea, but considers it.

“Mmmm… Fine!” she groans, “Wooly!” she calls out loudly. There is no response. “Oops guess he doesn’t wanna come back outside so we’ll pick something else!” Amanda shrugs. The voice prompt appears again. 

“Go inside and talk to him for real!” Margret taunted.

“Oh so you want me to clean up your mess.” Amanda groans, rolling her eyes and trudging back inside. She finds Wooly sitting on the couch sipping some hot cocoa. “Wooly!” she shouts. Wooly gets startled and starts choking on his cocoa. 

“UGH! Amanda?!” he gasps, sounding extremely irritated, he takes a deep breath and regains his composure, “You’re back quickly, was it too cold out there?” Amanda furrows her brow. He wears a smug smile. “No… it’s just… our friends kept asking me to bring you back outside.” Amanda grumbles. Wooly’s smile vanishes instantly. 

“What so they can shove five more snowballs down my throat? Hard pass.” 

“Forget it. I’ll build a snowman by myself!” Amanda grumbles. Wooly looks extremely bothered by this. 

“Fine, I'll come.” he mumbles, following Amanda outside. She rolls her eyes. Wooly digs his scarf out from under the snow and puts it on. 

“Are you stupid?” 

“What?” 

“That’s been sitting in the snow for-” Wooly tilts his head in confusion. “It will make you more cold!” Amanda exclaims. 

“Oh.” Wooly takes the scarf off and drops it in the snow once more. 

“Alright what were we doing again?” Amanda taps her chin in thought. 

“Building a snowman- OOF!” It seems the tapping the screen glitch is still in effect and Wooly had gotten hit in the face with a snowball once again with an amount of force that knocked him flat on the ground. Amanda glares at the screen. 

“Do you hate him or something?” Riley hissed. 

“Actually yeah.” Margret shrugged. Riley gives her a weird look. “I’m joking, I just really like to tease him sometimes. It’s funny and there’s never any consequences. Unlike with Amanda…” I’m not so sure about that. Riley thinks, remembering what happened to Joanne and shuddering. “That reminds me I have never seen the Amanda demon attack someone so violently before…” Margret said, tapping her chin. “That’s because it-” 

“So are you guys going to apologize to Wooly or?” Amanda scoffs, tapping her foot. Wooly’s face lights up with joy. The voice prompt appears. “I’m sorry Wooly it won’t happen again HA!” Margret taps the screen again, this time Amanda smacks the snowball to the ground. 

“No! Bad! Bad!” Amanda scolds, waving her finger, “I told you to stoppit!” What is she, a dog? Riley thinks. “I’m trying to have a snow day here and you’re messing it all up!” she screams. 

“Th-thanks for saving me…” Wooly says, twirling his fingers awkwardly. Amanda rolls her eyes. 

“I didn’t do that for you.” she groans, glaring directly at Margret. “Ugh. Let’s just build that snowman.” Amanda sighs, then her smiley demeanor returns. “To build a snowman how many snowballs do we need?” she asks. The voice prompt appears. 

“Two.” Riley answers. Amanda scowls. What did I do this time?

“No, that's not right.” she grumbles, shaking her head. 

“I thought it was…” Wooly mumbles. Me too Wooly, me too…

“Try again.” the voice prompt appears again. 

“Fifty-seven!” Margret beams. Amanda has a creepy, clearly annoyed smile on her face. “I’m really starting to like this whole, pushing Amanda and Wooly’s buttons game.” 

“I just answer some questions wrong sometimes to get a reaction, you’re just bullying them!” Riley protested.

“Whoops, did I go too far?”

“That’s an understatement.” Riley replied. Seriously… I don't want to get attacked again…

“How many snowballs do we need?” Amanda asks. The voice prompt appears yet again. 

“Three?”

“That's right!” Amanda beams. 

“Ugh but three is going to make this take forever! Can't we just do two?” Wooly complains.

“What happened to having a bit of patience Wooly?” Amanda says, winking at the screen. 

“I see what you did there.” Wooly sighs. Amanda looks quite proud of herself. “But seriously it's cold out here, let's just do two.”

“We're doing three!” Amanda insists.

“But Amanda-” 

“My d----” the tape glitches loudly, static covers the screen. “My da----” the tape glitches again. “My dad---” behind the static Riley hears Amanda let out a little screech of frustration. “And I always made our snowmen with three snowballs! Always! It has to be three! It has to be!” 

“Amanda… huh?” Amanda throws her coat in Wooly's face. 

“Wear this if you're so cold. I'm making my snowman!”

“Amanda! Put your coat back on, you'll get a cold!”

“I’d rather catch a cold then listen to you complain all day!” Amanda scoffs. Wooly looks offended by this.

“I- I'm fine Amanda I have my wool… I don't want you getting sick.” Amanda rolls her eyes and starts rolling a snowball. “Amanda put your coat back on!” Amanda ignores him. He walks over and puts her coat over her shoulders and starts helping her roll the ball. 

“Wooly… ugh whatever.” Amanda stops and puts her coat back on. If you start working on the second snowball, we'll get this done quicker.” 

“Ah, okay.” Wooly goes and starts forming another snowball. While he's doing this, he starts humming a little tune. Hey I recognize that song! I think I used to hear this on the radio… a long time ago… What was it called? Riley wonders.

“Wooly, what song is that?” Amanda asks.

“I… don't know…” Wooly mumbles, “I just know they used to play it on the radio ALL THE TIME. It was pretty annoying actually.” 

“I think I remember that… Do you remember any of the words?” Amanda asks.

“No…”

“Hum it again.”

“Um… okay…” Wooly starts to hum the melody again. 

“I think you're humming it off-key. Didn't it go…” Amanda starts humming along. 

“Yeah yeah! That's right… then it went…” Wooly starts humming a different part. 

“Yeah… but like… I think the notes were a bit higher?”

“Quit being such a critic!” Wooly pouts.

“Oh sorry, I’ve just never met someone so bad at humming before. How can you be bad at humming? It’s so easy!” 

“Is this snowball big enough?” Wooly asks flatly, glaring daggers at Amanda.

“Yeah I'd say so. I gotta finish the body and work on the head… you go get the rest of the stuff?”

“Rest of the stuff? What else do we need for a snowman?” Wooly asks. Riley taps on some sticks on the ground behind him. “Oh yeah, our snowman needs some arms! Help me pick some out!” Wooly runs over to the sticks. Does it matter? Riley wonders. They tap on a random stick. “No… that's too short. We're making a snowman not a T-Rex!” Riley taps a different stick. “Haha no. That's way too long!” Riley taps a different stick. Wooly picks it up. “I don't like the way this one feels.” WOOLY QUIT BEING SO PICKY!!! Riley thinks in annoyance. Margret picks a stick that is sticking up out of the ground. Wooly goes to pick it up, then realizes it's stuck in the ground. “Oh! It's a little sapling! A baby tree!” He giggles, “we can't use this little guy. Ah! Hold on!” Wooly disappears off-screen for a couple of seconds and comes back with his scarf. “Here… so we don't lose track of where it is!” 

“Wooly I'm done! Do you have the other stuff?” Amanda calls out offscreen.

“No!” Wooly calls back. 

“What's taking you so long?” Amanda asks, walking over. 

“Look Amanda, I found a baby tree.” 

“Oh… we'll have to dig it up.”

“What? Why?!”

“Look Wooly, it's too close to where our water pipes are underground-”

“Why do you know that?”

“Don't ask. The point is once its roots grow big it will make a big mess. We'll have to move it when the snow melts.” 

“No seriously why do you know about this-”

“Same thing happened at my house one time. There was a tree that grew too close to the piping system and my d--- had to get the tree removed and the pipes replaced. It was a massive pain in the butt.” Amanda explains. 

“I feel like this is getting really off-topic from the episode…” Wooly mumbles, looking unsure. 

“You asked.” Amanda shrugs, picking up the long stick and the short stick.

“Amanda those aren't the right sticks!” Wooly protests. 

“Right sticks? What are you talking about?” Amanda says, looking confused. The tape glitches and Amanda and Wooly are standing in front of three snowballs. “Alright, which snowball goes on the bottom?” Amanda asks. Riley taps the smallest one. “What? How do you even think that? Did you mishear me? I said on the bottom.” Amanda scolds, “Try again.” She's taking this really seriously… Riley thinks. Riley taps the biggest one. “That's right. Now which one goes on top of it?” She asks. Margret taps the medium snowball. “Right. And the smallest one goes on the very very top.” Amanda says. “Help me Wooly.” 

“Oh okay.” Wooly says. Amanda and Wooly take the medium snowball and place it on top of the biggest one. Then Amanda reaches up and puts the head on. The tape glitches and a smiling face is now on the snowman. 

“I think we outdid ourselves, Wooly.” Amanda says proudly. Wooly walks over and places two round snowballs on either side of the snowman's head.

“Look, now it's you.” He smiles. Amanda squints her eyes at the snowman. 

“Hmm…” the tape glitches and another snowman appears next to hers, with two snowballs instead of three. It bore a striking resemblance to Wooly. “Look! It looks just like you!”

“Okay I don't know if it looks just like me.” Wooly chuckles.

“It's round like you.” Amanda points out, poking Wooly's wool. “Oh wow that's soft…” she mumbles, still poking Wooly. 

“That tickles!” Wooly laughs. “Wait a minute- HEY!” Amanda runs off-screen giggling.

“Now where was that sled?” Suddenly, a bunch of random cartoon sound effects start to play. While that's happening, the opossum sneaks over.

“Hey! It's you! What are you-” the opossum kicks the two snowmen really hard and they come toppling down on top of Wooly. Amanda returns to find Wooly under a pile of snow.

“Wooly! What happen-” she notices the opossum scampering away. “That little-”

“I think we should kill him.” Wooly says, but it's muffled under all the snow. Amanda pulls him out. 

“That’s my line-” Amanda pauses for a moment and takes a deep breath, “No no it's fine…” she says through gritted teeth. “It's just snow after all…” 

“FINE?! HOW IS THIS-” 

“Now let's go sledding-ing-ing-ing-ing!” She beams, lifting up her sled. The tape glitches to them standing in front of three hills, Wooly appears to be shivering and huddling close to Amanda. “Can you tell me which one is the biggest?” Wooly looks at the biggest hill and gulps. 

“Or maybe a smaller hill…” he mumbles. Riley taps on the medium size hill. “Mmm… I don't know…” Wooly sounds unsure.

“Biggest hill! Biggest hill!” Amanda chants. 

“Actually I… I think our friend's pick will be fine.” Wooly laughs nervously. Margret taps on the biggest hill. “Nooo!”

“Yessssss! Let's gooo!” the tape glitches to the top of the hill. “Alrighty then! Front or back Wooly?”

“I mean…”

“Well if you go in front it'll probably be faster since you're-” Amanda compares their heights, “nevermind I'm taller.”

“Why did you count your hair in that?” 

“Okay fine we're the same height so it doesn't matter.” 

“I don't even want to do this.” Wooly whimpers. 

“Whatever I'm going in front.” Amanda says, sitting on the sled. She looks back at Wooly and taps the empty space behind her. He stares at her. She glares at him. “Okay I'm going. Have fun being alone up here next to those spooky old woods.” Amanda says. There indeed were some spooky-looking woods behind them. Wooly gulps.

“Wait! Wait! I'm coming!” Wooly sits down on the sled behind her. Amanda kicks the sled and makes it go down fast. Amanda is laughing her butt off the whole way down. “Amanda… what's that bump up ahead?” Wooly asks.

“Huh? Uh-oh.” There was a big log in the middle of the snow. The sled hit it and flung Amanda and Wooly into the air and back down face-first into the snow. “THAT WAS AWESOME LET'S DO IT AGAIN!” Amanda shouts excitedly. 

“I think I saw my life flash before my eyes… ACHOO!” 

“Oh come on Wooly it wasn’t THAT bad was it?” 

“I'm COLD.” Wooly snaps, before slipping on some ice and landing back into the snow. “UGH I HATE SNOW DAYS!” Amanda looks at the screen awkwardly. “I'm cold, I'm wet, and I WANT TO GO HOME!” Wooly shouts miserably.

“Well this is new…” Amanda mumbles. “C'mon Wooly, pull yourself together…” 

“I just wanna go home…”

“Okay okay… we're going home, we're going home! Pick yourself up… wow you are cold…” she says, helping Wooly off the ground. She unzips her coat and wraps it around him.

“I told you I don't need that.”

“Put it on.” Amanda says sternly. Wooly puts on the coat. Amanda immediately goes to zip it up. “Ugh why do you always have so much wool? The zipper keeps getting stuck! There we go! Sheesh! They don't call you Wooly for nothing!”

“Amanda…” Wooly grumbles. 

“I'm just teasing you a little. Chill out. Oh wait-” Amanda starts to giggle. Wooly rolls his eyes. “Alright Wooly, let's get home!” Amanda beams. The credits theme starts playing and the credits roll. The Hameln logo appears and starts glitching all over the place before the tape falls out. Weird. Riley thinks. 

“Interesting… I've never seen Wooly get upset like that before…” Margret pointed out, “though it could just be that I haven't been watching the tapes as long as Kate…”

“It’s rare but… I don’t think we want to push it… see about Joanne’s death-” 

“Alright Margret, I think I have everything.” Kate sighed, looking and sounding completely exhausted. 

“That was fast… I need to double check…” Margret said skeptically. 

“Wait-” “Guess that means you’re on puzzle duty Riley!” Margret said with a wink, making finger guns at Riley. When am I not on puzzle duty? Riley wonders. They look back at the fallen tape. I really think we should be a little more careful around Wooly…

Authors Note: Not 100% sure how canon they act in this. I think at some point I might've stopped caring a little. I decided I wanted Margret to be silly. We need a comedic character in these trying times. What with all the angst and whatnot.

[kangshxrtie]

Two | Being in a secret relationship

"It can be our little secret Promise you can keep it" - Secret, Ann Marie ft. YK Osiris

a couple of days later, yunjin invited your entire videography group over to her apartment for drinks, getting-to-know-each-other games, and just to get closer.

"wow, your apartment is so nice, yunjin!" soobin gasped upon walking in.

"hold this, i need to go to the bathroom," chaewon said, handing intak and keeho the bags of food before speeding off.

"where do you want me to put these?" keeho asked yunjin.

"if you go straight past the living room, my kitchen's at the end of the hallway," she told him, pointing in the direction. nien, yeonjun, and soobin followed, carrying their own bags.

you walked in last, allowing you to have a private moment with yunjin while everyone else walked away.

"hey, yunjin! can i set some of my stuff down in your room?" you asked loudly, wanting to give the impression that you'd never been here before.

yunjin let out a small chuckle. "yeah, just follow me."

later, the group were playing drinking games and complaining about their college assignments.

"have y'all heard about the drama in jeno's group? it's crazy," keeho brought up. "so, person a is dating person b, but person c is person b's ex. now person c is dating person d, and person a and person d are playing lovers in their short film," he explained. "it's a mess over there."

"that sounds chaotic," soobin said.

"must be hella uncomfortable for everyone," yeonjun agreed.

sometimes you wonder why yunjin wants to hide your relationship, but then you hear stories like this and you're glad you do. "can i have another one?" you asked yunjin, holding up your empty drink.

"they're in the cabinet by the fridge," yunjin told you, pointing it out.

you stood up and walked to the kitchen. once there, you had an idea.

"yunjin, where'd you say they were?" you yelled out to her.

"in the cabinet!" she replied.

"which one?"

"the one by the fridge!"

"you sure?" you continued to play obliviously even though you weren't even looking.

"here i come," yunjin stood up and walked to the kitchen. as soon as she came in, you immediately pulled her in for a kiss, which she eagerly returned.

while the rest of the group kept talking, you and yunjin were making out in the kitchen.

you can admit, that sometimes being in a secret relationship is fun.

"i'll play some music," chaewon said, turning on the speaker and pressing play on her phone before heading back to the group.

"now we can get started," chaewon said as she sat back down next to yunjin.

"we should play the balance game!" intak said. "you just have to choose the same answer as your partner."

"what are the teams?" yunjin asked.

"we'll just do it how we're sitting," yeonjun suggested.

the teams were: you and nien, yunjin and chaewon, yeonjun and soobin, and intak and keeho.

you all used an app on intak's phone for the questions. intak placed his phone on the table, swiping to the first card, which presented a tame question.

"summer or winter?"

you, nien, intak, keeho, and soobin said winter, while chaewon, yunjin, and yeonjun said summer. soobin and yeonjun had to drink.

"comedy or drama?"

you, nien, yunjin, chaewon, keeho, and soobin chose drama. intak and yeonjun chose comedy, so their teams had to drink.

"morning or night?"

you, nien, chaewon, yunjin, intak, and soobin chose night. keeho and yeonjun chose morning, causing those two teams to drink again.

"lights on or off?"

you, nien, soobin, yeonjun, and keeho chose lights off. chaewon, yunjin, and intak chose lights on. keeho and intak had to drink.

but there are times when being in a secret relationship sucks. watching yunjin and chaewon do love shots in front of you feels terrible.

"i don't think nien and y/n will ever differ," soobin mentioned.

"just date already, you're too compatible," keeho teased.

"shut up," you chuckled in response.

you swiped to the next question and read out the card. "silent or vocal?"

"silent," you answered, and nien said the opposite.

"ohhh, loveshot!"

you looked around awkwardly at everyone in the room, not wanting to do that in front of your girlfriend, but you didn't have any other excuses. you glanced at yunjin, who wasn't even looking at you but smiling in chaewon's face.

"we don't have to, i can take yours," nien whispered as she poured both of your shots.

it also sucks because yunjin ignores you if she gets even the tiniest bit jealous, but you just have to sit here and watch while she flirts with chaewon right in front of your face.

"no, it's fine. it's part of the game, right?" you said with a bite in your tone directed at yunjin, who finally made eye contact with you.

"okay then."

"shots, shots, shots!" keeho and soobin cheered as you and nien entangled your arms, feeding her your shot while she fed you hers.

"you and chaewon are cute," you said as you walked beside yunjin with your arms crossed.

"you know it's not like that," yunjin said.

"do i?"

"come on, y/n," yunjin sighed.

"we also don't match as well as you and her do," you continued.

"that doesn't matter because you know what they say: opposites attract," she said. "and i feel like we attract very well," her voice holding a playful tone.

"i don't," you said, starting to speed walk away, but yunjin hurried and chased after you.

"hey, don't leave. i was just joking," she grabbed your arm, making you face her.

"you weren't," you rolled your eyes.

"true. but i meant what i said—i don't care if we don't have much in common. all that matters is that what we have is real," yunjin grinned.

"you're cheesy," you smiled at her.

"only for you," she used the arm she had a hold on to pull you into her embrace.

in the end, this secret relationship is okay, because you two love each other.

Masterlist ــــــﮩ٨ـ Next

[violetflowers55]

Hot & Cold - Chapter 2

(Dr. Phosphorus x fem!reader)

Synopsis: Falling asleep in a luxurious castle was supposed to be easy, yet you couldn’t. At least until ran into Phosphorus in the kitchen - or rather until he fell through the ceiling. Of all the ways you considered to tire yourself out, he was certainly not one of them, yet it turned out to be the best way.

Notes: Sorry this is so long, I tried to keep it short but obviously failed! If you didn’t read Ch. 1, it’s not needed for Ch.2, it just provides extra backstory. As a heads up, this chapter takes a very different turn from Ch.1. This chapter is mostly smut

CW: Burning/ Burning kink, ass slapping, dom!Phosphorus (kinda)

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

Having spent so many years sleeping on a hard ass prison bed, you thought sleeping in the luxurious castle beds would be easy. Yet, no matter how many times you repositioned yourself, you couldn’t get comfortable. It was far too quiet; you had become accustomed to the constant clanging and shouting of prison. The mattress and pillows were too soft, something you never thought would be a problem. After hours of laying there, trying desperately to sleep, your stomach growled. With a groan, you got up, hoping maybe some food would put you to sleep.

It took some wandering to find the kitchen, but eventually you did. The servants in there froze as they saw you enter. Who they were making tea for at one in the morning, you had no clue.

“Uh, hi, sorry, I just wanted some food?”

One of them slowly moved over the the pantry, revealing a smorgasbord of snacks.

“Wow… thank you.”

He simply nodded and returned to preparing the tea and biscuits. You picked up some kind of snack bar. It was labeled in Polkostani so you weren’t really sure what it was, but it looked good. Just as you were almost finished with it, the ceiling above the kitchen island collapsed. The servants ran away while you watched as Flag and Dr. Phosphorus fell through, landing on the kitchen table. When Phosphorus sat up, he cracked his neck into place, and you couldn’t deny how unbelievablly hot it was.

A moment later, Flag hit him with a frying pan, Phosphorous blasted him, and the next thing you knew some device was sitting at your feet. It displayed images of you and your fellow monsters, and you quickly realized what it is.

The two men stared at you, frozen, waiting to see what you would do. You bent down to pick it up, thinking about how much trouble you could potentially be in if you smashed it right now.

“Don’t be an idiot… hand it over,” Flag warned, taking a step towards you.

“Yeah, don’t be an idiot,” Phosphorus echoed, reaching his hand out.

If you smashed it, there was a chance you could go free. But there was a greater chance Waller had some kind of main control board back at Belle Reve, and you’d end up back in isolation before you could even escape the castle. Reluctantly, you handed the device over to Flag.

“Richard?” the princess appeared in the doorway, a concerned look on her face. Flag turned to look at her before scolding Phosphorus.

“Phosphorus, you idiot! You think Waller would give me the only remote? You’d be hopping around like a Mexican jumping bean for days if you escaped, or if I told her about this. I’m not here to torture you. We’re supposed to me on the same damn team,” he sighed, shaking his head, “Just get back to bed, the both of you.”

It was a bit hard to take him seriously when he had no pants and an oven mitt on, but you obediently trudged up the stairs, with Phosphorus coming up behind you. As you walked, you started to notice your ass feel a bit extra warm.

“For fuck’s sake, stop staring at my ass Phosphorous.”

“Kinda hard when it’s right in my face,” he laughed, “You may have just betrayed me, but you still have a great-“

Reaching the top of the stairs, you spun around, grabbing him by the collar of his hoodie and pulling him close.

“I did not betray you. I don’t owe you jack shit. And if anything, I just saved your ass from being tortured by Waller. Not to mention, you nearly ruined my-“

The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs stopped you mid sentence.

“Come on,” you whispered, dragging him to the hallway the bedrooms were in, since that’s where you were supposed to be. Still holding the collar of his hoodie, you pulled him in closer so he could clearly hear your whispered voice.

“If you try something like that again, I will fucking kill you. We need to earn Flag’s trust to escape, and I can’t have you fucking up my plans. We earn their trust, watch and wait, and eventually they’ll slip up. Destroying one control device won’t do shit, the chips have to be deactivated. So if you ever try to pull a stunt like that again, I’ll throw you under the bus and make sure the whole team turns on you. Got it?”

You held him there, watching as your words sunk in. His smile seemed to widen, and he looked you up and down, cocking his head to the side.

“Wow. Smart and hot. I like it.”

You instinctively took a step back, but still held his hoodie. Your cheeks warmed up, and this time you knew it wasn’t because of his heat.

“F-fuck you,” you stammered, trying to hid the butterflies swirling in your stomach.

“Oh, come on, there’s no way you decided to walk around in this,” he stepped closer, pinching your satin nightgown on either side of your waist, “and didn’t realize how fucking hot you look in it.”

Suddenly, you realized just how close the two of you were. His face was barely an inch away from yours, and the heat radiating off him did nothing to cool you down. His fingers on your waist electrified you in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. A moment passed, the tension between the two of you rising as he waited for your response. Just as you almost snapped out of it, as you were about to let go, he leaned in, pushing you back against your door with his lips. You thought kissing him would be hard, yet his lips were soft, even with how passionately he was kissing you. A soft moan escaped you as you let go, wrapping your arms around his neck. The feeling of his whole body against you electrified you, making your body yearn for him. He reached behind you, opening the door into your bedroom and pushing the two of you inside.

As you stumbled back into the room, he locked the door behind you two before pulling you to the bed, his lips never leaving your mouth. He sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you onto his lap so you were straddling him. Just feeling his hard pelvis against your own made you even needier. You moaned into his mouth, rocking and grinding against him, desperate for more friction. His hands explored your body over your nightgown, which only made you want more.

“Phosphorus, please,” you begged in between kisses, “touch me.”

He pulled back slightly, creating an almost unbearable space between the two of you.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” his voice was soft and earnest, in a way you’d never heard him speak before.

You smiled softly. “My home planet has a sun 10x bigger and closer than Earth’s. I’m always freezing, and my skin is impenetrable. You couldn’t hurt me if you tried,” you leaned back in, hoping he took your challenge.

His grin grew wider, and the flame atop his head seemed to grow. He leaned in again, kissing you even more passionately, fast and hard. His hands slid down your bare thighs before sliding back up to grab your ass under your dress. He squeezed each cheek, hard, eliciting moans from both of you. The feeling of your skin burning only excited you more. You wrapped your legs around him, grinding faster, trying desperately to get the release you so wanted. Between your legs, you felt a body part you weren’t even sure he had grow and harden. He groaned into your mouth as you readjusted to rock against his cock, positioning yourself so his tip rubbed against your most sensitive spot. His lips traveled down your neck, the softness of his kisses balancing out the slight burns he left. One of his hands moved to the small of your back, pulling you in closer so your chest was flush against his. When he reached the base of your neck, he lightly bit down, sucking at your skin.

“Oh, Phosphorus,” you moaned, reveling in the multitude of sensations spreading across your body.

Suddenly, he flipped you, laying you on your back and positioning himself between you legs.

“Alex,” he said, leaning down towards you, “I want to hear you moan my real name.” As he finished his sentence, he slid his hand down your body, landing where you most desperately wanted him to touch you. Still cautious, he rubbed you over your underwear, rubbing quick circles on your clit. Involuntarily, you obliged his request, the sound of you moaning his name filling the room. You gripped his hoodie like your life depended on it as he leaned back down to trail kisses down your neck and chest. He reached his free hand up to pull down your gown and reveal your tits to him. His tongue flicked your nipple before sucking on it, and you bucked your hips up towards him. It all felt so good, but you wanted more.

Taking the hint, he slid his fingers into your underwear before pressing them into your entrance. They were hot, and you never knew that could feel so good.

“Fuck, yes Alex, please,” you begged, trying to move your hips so his fingers would go in deeper. He let out a low chuckle, amused by your neediness.

“Your wish is my command,” he replied before plunging his fingers deep into you. He lifted his head from your chest to watch as you cried out his name over and over again with each thrust of his fingers. His fingers were long and hard, and the warmth of them gave you indescribable pleasure as he fingerfucked you. The way he pounded into you was almost too much to take, and soon you succumbed to the feeling. You tightened around him, crying out and grabbing him tighter as you came. He chuckled, slowing down but not stopping.

“You’re so pretty when you come for me.”

You gasped for breath, yet still ached for more. “Alex… Alex, please, I want- oh-“ Before you could finish your plea, he began bending his fingers quickly inside you, hitting your pleasure point.

“What was that?” He teased, clearly enjoying seeing you unravel beneath you.

“I want… I want you,” you managed to get out through gasps and moans. His smile widened a bit, and he picked up his pace.

“Come for me.” He demanded, holding your chin in his other hand.

His pace was brutally fast, and it was easy to oblige as an intense feeling of pleasure overcame you. You tightened around him again, liquid spilling out of you as you climaxed. Without letting you catch your breath, he flipped you over onto your knees. positioning himself behind you. His hands lifted from you for a second to drop his pants, making you realize just how good his hands felt. You ached in his absence, and moaned when placed them on your hips again. He slid his cock between your legs, letting you feel how long he was and sending shivers up your spine before he pushed inside you.

“Oh, fuuuckk,” he groaned, “you feel so fucking good.” He thrusted his whole length into you, slow, enjoying how your wet pussy felt around his cock.

“Ohhh Alex!,” you practically screamed as he filled you up. He groaned in return, gripping your hips even harder. It burned slightly, but the heat felt good as he fucked you. He pounded into you with a force that would probably break any human, your body shaking forward with each thrust. His pace picked up, thrusting into you fast and hard. You buried your head in a pillow, trying to muffle your screams so as not to alert the others. He grabbed your hair, pulling your head up, and slapped your ass hard with his other hand.

“I want to hear every noise you make. I want to hear you scream my name while I fuck your brains out,” he growled in your ear, slapping your ass again for good measure.

Just that was enough to send you over the edge. You gripped the sheets, knuckles turning white as you came on his cock.

“Fuck, it feels so fucking good when you come on me baby” He let out a deep moan, releasing your head to hold your hips so that he could fuck your even harder.

Cries of both of your names filled the room as he reached his own climax. He thrusted into you hard, causing you to immediately cum again as you felt him spill into you. When he finally pulled out, you collapsed, breathless. He laid down next to you, also trying to catch his breath.

“Wow. That was…”

“Amazing,” you sighed contently, rolling over to lay on your back. He shifted closer to you, innocuously wrapping his arm around your shoulder. You were too blissed out in the moment to remember why you hated him, and curled up closer to feel warm. He fidgeted with the strap of your nightgown for a moment before deciding to speak.

“Can I ask you a question?”

“Hmm… well, you did make me cum four times, so I guess you get to ask a question.”

“Does that mean I can ask four questions?”

You looked up at him. “I usually kill men after sex, so don’t push your luck.” It wasn’t really a hard and fast rule, but he didn’t need to know that.

“Well, that’s grim…” he paused, a little taken aback, but impressed by your ruthlessness, “I was wondering… why did you come to Earth?” His voice was soft, like he was worried the question might incite you to kill him.

You sighed. Of course he had to ask your least favorite question. Usually you made something up, some witty remark about your home planet not having enough banks to rob. But for some reason, you felt like opening up for once.

“I didn’t leave my home planet. I didn’t choose Earth,” You fidgeted with the strings on his hoodie, unable to look at him, “I was exiled.” He stayed silent, waiting to see if you were going to tell him the rest.

“I’m not like other Siclons. Even on my home planet…I’m a monster. I shouldn’t look so human. I shouldn’t be able to turn my skin to steel. I shouldn’t…,” you voice broke as you spoke, but you were determined not to cry in front of him, “They offered me surgery to “fix” me. But I didn’t want to be fixed. So, they sent me away. Found a planet where I could blend in. Dropped me off in a Gotham alley and left.”

Tears streamed down your face, dripping onto his hoodie. “I was only fifteen Earth years old.”

He was quiet for a moment, gently squeezing your shoulder to comfort you.

“So… that’s why you turned to a life of crime?”

That snapped you out of it. You flipped over, facing away from him. “You got one question. That was it.”

“Hmm,” he repositioned himself to spoon you, wrapping his arm around your waist, “So if I make you cum four more times, then you’ll tell me?” His voice was teasing, and you couldn’t help but laugh. You loosened up, letting yourself being held by him. With his warm body wrapped around you, finally you could sleep.

[eternal-everblaze]

Fintante headcannons (specifically angst with some form of hope) if you feel like it?

help all of them left my head when you sent this

I am incapable of understanding what angst means so you might not get any of that. Anyways. Incoherent list time.

when they were still ""friends"" fintan would annoy bronte when he was doing work and show him human things he thought were cool and bronte would just say "that's nice" without looking

personally i prefer Bronte being taller than Fintan it's just funnier to me. Like Bronte getting spammed with short jokes from Fintan and he would just grunt like wow you think you're so funny. Not exactly my style. It would be way funnier if Fintan got hit with all the short jokes cuz he would get all mad about it. Among other reasons. I might elaborate more on this in a later post.

I think they'd compete with each other about everything like those friend groups you know what im saying (except way more gay)

they gardened together as a shared autistic interest (yippee!!!) but then after the Everblaze incident bronte stopped because obvious reasons and now gardening reminds him of fintan. While fintan still gardens to remind him of bronte (fintan gardened for centuries just to see his noxflares bloom tell me that's not obsession...)

seeing any type of fire reminds bronte of fintan... this is kinda obvious but I felt the need to add it

drinking buddies???? Question mark??? Fintan would get drunk and try to get bronte to join him but he would just stand there watching him do dumb shit. Then when Fintan blacks out and wakes up he asks bronte what happened last night he'd be like nothing dont worry about it ;)

Uhh ummm uhhh I ran out of fintante headcanons (and brainpower) that I didnt borrow from other people so here's my fintante playlist

[starkspi]

From "Unadulterated Loathing" in which Charlie chains these two idiots accidentally together by @otsmosis (who made this comment at the end of the last chapter and inspired me to do whatever this is above)

[starry-bi-sky]

(Part of this post with older brother danyal al ghul)

...Okay, look. Sam knows she's staring. She knows very well that she is staring. And that if she doesn't stop staring it's gonna draw her unwanted attention, and that will only have to make her explain why she's staring. Which she doesn't want to do.

She's trying not to stare, which she thinks she should get brownie points for. She tries to look away, to find a spot on the wall to stare lifelessly at, maybe she can burn holes into some of these annoying socialites' heads. But eventually her eyes drift, and suddenly she's back to staring again.

Can you blame her though? Damian Wayne looks like a very close mini-me of her fucking best friend. Seriously, it's like looking into a mirror to the past. If that mirror to the past had green eyes rather than blue and a distinctive lack of a facial scar.

The first time she sees him when her parents drag her over to Bruce Wayne to butter up to him she has to do a doubletake. Then a triple take. Then a quadruple take, just for good measure that she was seeing what she was actually seeing. She was sure she looked like one of those stress toys that when squeezed had their eyes pop out comically like a Saturday morning cartoon, that's what she certainly felt like anyways.

Look, Danny's come a decent way from being that scowl-y, jerkish little ten year old she first met when he arrived like the wind to Amity Park five years ago (even if he was still occasionally scowl-y and jerkish), but one thing that's stayed the same is how reserved he is about his home life prior to being taken in by the Fentons.

He doesn't talk about it much, and Sam's come to know that he's very good at changing the subject when it gets brought up. Even after being friends for nearly four years, the only thing she and Tuck know for certain is that he has a little brother that he refers to as 'starlight', whom he cares a lot about but left on really bad terms with. And that he's never met his father, but wants to and knows who he is.

He's never told her or Tucker who he was though, and glancing at Bruce Wayne, Sam is realizing why. She can begrudgingly acknowledge all the good he's done for Gotham, but... well, if Danny told her that Bruce Wayne was his dad, she wouldn't have believed him at all.

But she's starting to see the resemblance, as subtle as it is.

And she sees the resemblance to Damian Wayne, her eyes dropping back down to him as he wears a very Danny-like scowl on his face, arms crossed behind his back as his eyes swept around the ballroom. He was five years younger than Danny, and god it was so, so weird.

His eyes turned on to her, and they locked gazes for a moment.

Involuntarily, Sam makes a startled noise and looks away. Fingers tap against her purse, black and purple and unfortunately a clutch that only held her phone and her wallet in it. She would have kept a knife on her, but her parents put their foot down and there was a security detail at the door. Only in Gotham.

Silently, she was hoping that the little Danny-me didn't say anything. Or at least, he hadn't noticed her staring. Which was a tall order if she ever heard one -- and unfortunately, her silent prayers went unanswered as her mother's eyes dropped down onto her.

"Did you say something, Samantha?" She asks in a sickeningly sweet voice, a sound that makes Sam's skin crawl. Her dad and Bruce Wayne's attention also turns onto her, and she glowers at her mom from the corner of her eye.

"I didn't say anything." Sam says, barely keeping her tone polite as she turned her head away. Her mother clucks her tongue, disapproving, but from her peripherals doesn't pester her more

Bruce Wayne, the bastard, takes that time to turn to Sam and grace her with his dime-a-dozen billboard smiles. "I've been talking with your parents this whole time, Miss Manson, you must be terribly bored. How is your schooling going?"

Sam eyes him up and down. On one hand, she immediately wants to be snarky. It's none of his business what her school life is like, she doesn't care for his fucking small talk.

On the other hand, this was Danny's whole father. Someone who she knows that Danny has wanted to meet for, what she's assuming, his whole life. He's never brought it up much, but she remembers that very quiet, solemn conversation she and Tucker had with him where he admits to having never met his dad. But god does he want to.

And... wait. Sam's eyes narrow, and she meets Bruce Wayne's eyes. Does this man even know Danny exists? She drops her gaze down to Damian, who was staring at her suspiciously, and then back up to Bruce, and she alternates between them.

Why was Damian living with Bruce, but not Danny? Why hasn't Bruce done anything to reach out to him - what was going on with Danny's biological family that Danny had to be separated from them, but not Damian? Danny's always been kinda mysterious, but now things weren't adding up.

Was Danny given up? Does Bruce just not want Danny, but wanted Damian? Why the fuck does Bruce Wayne know about Damian but not her best friend -- or does he know and just not care? He's fought for custody for his adoptive kids before, does he just not want to fight for his other biological son? Does he think Danny's not worth it?

She's never cared much about the Wayne family before, other than to hear about the advancements on WE's eco-friendly tech, but Sam thinks she's gonna have to look into why Damian Wayne was living with the Waynes.

Slowly, with a protective anger beginning to burn in her gut and crawl up her throat, a scowl slowly curls at the corner of her lip as she redirects her glare from her mother onto Bruce. "It's going fine," She says curtly, jutting her chin out defiantly. "Me and my friend Danny started a petition to fix the leaky faucets in the girls and boys' bathrooms in order to conserve more water for the rest of the city."

She eyes his face, waiting to see if anything like recognition flashes through it. And- and nothing. Sam breathes in slowly through her nose, trying to quell the red that's blurring the edge of her vision -- does he just, not know where Danny is?

Her parents however, make vaguely displeased expressions. "Our Samantha is... quite passionate about her pet projects." Her dad says, laughing low and nervously, "she's very vocal about silly things like that."

"Her friend Daniel is perhaps even worse than she is sometimes." Her mother adds on, fanning her face with her perfectly manicured hands with a sigh. "I swear, he's the one that keeps dragging her into these things."

Sam's anger turns on its head, and she whirls on her heel like a fire-breathing dragon. "It's Danyal." It rolls out like instinct. Danny's told them both that he hates the Americanized pronunciation of his name, but in a rare moment of restraint, puts up with it for reasons unknown to her. "And Danny doesn't make me do anything, it was my idea."

The name, Danyal, seems to ring some kind of bell in Brucie Wayne's head, because she sees him and Damian quietly perk up like two cats pricking up their ears. Her eyes flick onto him immediately, something dangerous rearing its head. So Bruce Wayne knows about Danny. And he's not reaching out to him. Is he? She's not sure.

She does know that she's gonna rip his throat out if she finds out that he's known about Danny this entire time and has been ignoring him while favoring his little brother. She'll hunt down Aragon herself and steal his dragon-shifting amulet and wreck house on Bruce Wayne if that's the case. Batman and his league of vigilantes be damned. Her parents don't notice her slowly turning head towards Bruce.

But Bruce does, and she makes direct eye contact with him. His smile doesn't falter, he just tilts his head like a curious puppy and looks at Sam's parents. She hopes Bruce can read minds, she hopes he can hear her threatening him.

"Danyal?" He asks, and Sam doesn't know if she hates the fact that he said it correctly or not. She just continues burning holes into him and hoping he might spontaneously combust.

Her mother waves her hand dismissively, tilting her nose up poshly into the air. "Our dear Samantha's little... foster friend from school," she says, not even bothering to hide her disdain, "a creepy little boy with the most garish scar on his face. He's a rude little thing, not good for polite company."

Scratch that, Sam mentally alternates between ripping into her parents and Bruce. She whirls on them. "Do not talk about Danny that way." She all but snarls, and they all but ignore her.

(She's tearing up the upholstery when she gets home. She's going to paint over the fine china. She's going to do something to make them pay for this.)

"Oh yes, he was taken in by that freaky Fenton family a few years ago." Her dad continues in lieu of her mom, and they both shake their heads disapprovingly. "It's just what our city needs, another menace."

"Danny is not a menace." Sam continues, raising her voice while her hands shake with rage. Her parents finally look at her, but she can already tell that they're going to scold her for raising her voice. She bulldozes over them and jabs her black-painted finger at them. "He's got a bigger heart than the both of you combined."

"Samantha, please." her mom says, exasperated. They both give her disapproving looks, Sam thinks about grabbing champagne off the tray of a nearby waiter and throwing it in their faces. "You defend that boy far too much. What do you actually know about him and his family?"

Sam sets her jaw, puffing herself up like a dragon protecting its hoard. She steps into her mom's space. "I know that he loves the stars; you can ask him anything about astronomy and he could give you an entire lecture on the formation, class types, and various gasses that stars are made up of. He can tell you how the Earth was formed, he can tell you about the visible light spectrum and about light curves, and a whole ton of other stuff that I don't really understand. But Danny loves talking about it."

Her face twists and scowls, "I know he cares a ton about the environment and about fixing light pollution, and preserving the forests and natural habitats of animals." She nearly jabs her finger into her mom's chest, "I know he loves dogs, and that there's one he feeds every day on the way to school that he calls Cujo, its a St. Bernard puppy and Danny carries him around whenever he sees him after school, and is in the middle of training him."

It's not a total lie, but it's not the whole truth either. Cujo doesn't need food, but Danny gives him it anyways. "I know he likes spicy food and loves movies but specifically only sci-fi and horror, and he hates most martial arts movies. His favorite superhero is the Martian Manhunter, but Batman comes in at a close second." For reasons to her that were pretty unknown, but it didn't matter.

"I know he loves wordplay and making puns, which I would have never expected from him when we first met, but it's so unbelievably Danny-like that I can't imagine him not making puns." And she smiles a little to herself, she remembers the first time Danny intentionally made a pun once and it got startled laughs out of both her and Tucker.

Her smile suddenly falters, and she swallows. Her lips purse up, wobbling, and she very quickly glances over to Damian Wayne, of whom is watching her with a vaguely bewildered expression alongside Bruce.

She turns her eyes back onto her parents. "And I know that he worries a lot, even if he has a shit way of showing it. I know he had a little brother that he hasn't seen since he was adopted by the Fentons, and he doesn't talk about him often but when he does he he calls him 'starlight'." From the corner of her eye, she sees Damian jerk.

"So- so, so what if he's not 'good for polite company'." Sam's voice, embarrassingly, cracks down the middle. But she's so angry over Danny's behalf that she doesn't really care. "Or that he can be mean, and critical, and stubborn. He's learning, and he's becoming kinder by the day. That's more than I can say about you."

(She remembers when Danny finally admitted to her and Tucker being his 'closest friends'. It was sometime before the portal incident, and it felt like a milestone because beforehand he only really referred to them as his companions or allies.)

(At the time, he'd looked unsure of himself. Skittish like a stray in the back of an alleyway, almost shy in his own way. It had come out stilted, slow, like an infant taking its first steps, and it would have been endearing if it hadn't been heartbreaking.)

Her parents rear back like she'd struck them, and her mother holds a hand against her chest in aghast. Sam doesn't care, she blinks the sting out of her eyes. "Samantha." Her mother starts.

Sam cuts her off, "I don't care what you have to say, you-- you pricks." she snaps, around her, there are gasps. Belatedly, she realizes she's grown an audience, but again she doesn't care. "Danny might be an asshole, but he cares. And I'd rather be around someone whose mean but cares, than someone whose nice but doesn't."

With that, she whirls on her foot and turns on Bruce Wayne, who has been silent the entire time with a surprised expression on his face. He starts to shake out of it when Sam turns to him, but she doesn't give him the chance to speak. "Enjoy your party." She snarls, and then stalks away.

[miku-meeku]

haha chat you wont believe what i got myself into haha