#[ they tend to smack into the windows of one of my parents' houses

[trehontin]

---This was the second baby bird I just helped learning how to fly.

[infiniteimaginings]

VIOLET BRIDGeTtON PLEASE PLEASE

A Courtship? (Violet Bridgerton x GN!Reader)

Summary: You court the dear Violet Bridgerton and she is surprised, but quite flushed at the idea. Pronouns: You/Yours, They/Them Warnings: Slight angst Word Count: 4.8k A/N: I've had this idea for months. Months. I love this woman with my whole heart. There will be a part two because this got too long. Tagging: @etherynn @theonefairygodmother @ignaciocv

The Bridgerton home was a home that everyone wished for. The structure itself was beautiful, multiple floors, dozens of rooms, chandeliers, paintings of the family. It wasn’t the structure itself that the people of society were necessarily jealous of, no, it was the family themselves.

The Bridgerton family were blessed with handsome sons, beautiful daughters, all from a gorgeous, loving pair of parents. They were blessed with talented children in the arts, in the mind, and even in the heart. 

When the new season arrives for daughters to find husbands, mothers are already preparing their own children for the Bridgerton daughters arrivals. Daphne was the diamond of the season, she was almost engaged to a prince, and she is now a duchess. Eloise consistently gained the attention of each suitor on the floor, and Francesca was named the ‘Sparkler’ of the season for her intelligently beautiful compositions on the piano, which everyone knew the meaning of. The Bridgertons were a family that could not be out-charmed.

That wasn’t the only reason that society was jealous of the Bridgertons, they were jealous because the family seemed to love each other so dearly. Whenever they were seen out in the gardens, at the lakes, at balls, they were all laughing with one another, dancing even. Not many families can reflect such a powerful bond, that is why everyone is jealous of the Bridgertons, because they have each other.

It was an early afternoon where the birds were chirping, the sun was shining warmly through the windows, and everyone was ready for the day. The family were all in their day clothes, already having eaten breakfast and practiced any compositions, writings, and or drawings they wanted to complete that day. Due to that, the Bridgerton home was lively and bustling with laughter as it typically was in the day. 

Gregory and Hyacinth were up to their usual troubles, swiping sweets from their siblings plates, discussing future plans that were way too far out for them to worry about, and playing games that they couldn’t understand how they were losing to each other.

Anthony was teasing Colin for his activities at the prior party quietly, away from their mothers sharp ears across the room. Though they hid their whispers and scolding, anyone could see how Anthony gently hit Colin in the back of the neck before shaking him by his shoulder with a gracious smile.

Francesca was practicing one of her pieces, creating a peaceful background to the activities at hand. This was also known as her not wanting to involve herself in the activities of her siblings, which everyone was quite fine with. Kate was enjoying the music as she sat on the bench with Francesca, enjoying her cup of tea as she listened to the melodies. 

Two others who weren’t invested in what was happening with the rest of the house were Eloise and Benedict, who constantly looked as if they were planning something. Eloise would point to something in her book and Benedict would chuckle, rolling his eyes as he looked away. The brown haired girl would close her book and smack her brother in the shoulder with her hand and he simply laughed harder. No one knew what they were talking about, but everyone knew that it was just how they were.

Watching all of the Bridgerton children happily tending to themselves within the same room, within the comfort of each other brought a smile to someone's face. That someone was Violet Bridgerton, the mother of each and every one of those beautiful children. She had her hands rested on her lap, her eyes shifted from the couch across her where Benedict and Eloise sat to the piano where Francesa and her daughter in law Kate didn’t speak, but enjoyed each other's company. She watched her youngest children run across the room, almost knocking into their older brothers who stopped their conversation to grab hold of them and join in on the excitement. 

Violet Bridgerton loved her family, and they all loved her dearly as well. That’s why they fit together, that’s why they always worked.

It wasn’t unusual for the Bridgerton home to receive visitors, so when the footman walked in no one paid him much mind. The only person who turned their head was Violet, as she had been the one to pay more mind ever since Daphne's first season.

The footman stood tall as he entered, hands at his sides, the door now open. “My lady,” He greeted, not looking anywhere in particular, “a noble has arrived to call upon you.”

The Bridgertons focus was now set to the footman before they all looked at one another, more specifically they all looked at Eloise, the girl who has yet to find a husband. 

The brown haired girl looked around for a moment before turning to look at the footman, “Me?” She asked hesitantly, grabbing hold of Benedict to hide herself from whoever may have walked through the door. The brother, in response, shoved her from him with a teasing smile, causing the girl to only pull him even more to shield herself.

The footman didn’t look at Eloise when she spoke, he looked at Violet for a moment before speaking. “For the Viscountess Violet Bridgerton.” He announced slowly, no clear expression on his face.

The Bridgerton children all went back to their typical tasks, a little quiet since they had a visitor, but they did not mind the visitor at all. It could’ve been anyone, Lady Danbury, any of the neighbors, or simply her friends. It didn’t necessarily concern the children, so they continued with their afternoon.

Violet clapped her hands and stood with a smile, “Please, send them in!” She spoke happily, walking from the couch to the center of the room to be able to greet the visitor.

Surprisingly, it wasn’t a known person on a personal level who had walked into the Bridgerton drawing room, it was someone Violet had only ever spoken to for a few moments at balls or other parties. 

You were a noble who was well known within society for your estates, businesses, your family lineage, and overall your general charm. There were no rumors about you, but there were also no praises within Lady Whistledown nor from the queen, you were simply a sharp noble who kept up with expectations.

Though it was a bit surprising, Violet still greeted you with a gentle smile and sparkle in her eyes. “How unexpected!” She announced, causing her children to turn their heads to the door where you stood with a soft expression. “It’s wonderful to see you, Noble.” She spoke as she curtseyed, greeting you.

Her children all followed suit with a collective, “Good day”, all bowing and/or curtseying to greet you.

You walked in a little further, facing Violet as you bowed, “Good day, Viscountess Bridgerton.” You spoke softly, soon turning to face the others before greeting them as well, “Good day, Lord and Lady Bridgertons.”

After greetings ceased, Violet tilted her head a bit, “To what do I owe the pleasure?” She asked, gently turning her body as she awaited your response. 

You finally remembered that you hadn’t expressed why you had found yourself at the Bridgerton home, you bowed once more as a sign of apology, “Dearest Viscountess-” You began to speak, but Violet soon filled the room with her laughter, waving your words off politely, “Oh, please, call me Violet.” 

You nodded, taking a bit of a deep breath. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as all of the Bridgerton eyes were on you, something you should have expected, but you did not account for. “Dearest Violet, I’ve come to inquire if…” You trailed off, seeing if you could find the right words to let this visit go smoothly.

“If?” She asked expectantly, shoulders raised high, polite smile still gracing her face.

She was met with no answer for a moment before you let out a shuddered breath and stood tall, your eyes only meeting hers. “If I might seek your favor in courting you.” You finally spat out, your voice stronger than you expected, but as long as you didn’t stutter, you didn’t mind.

The room filled with silence. Francesca abruptly stopped playing, the children all stopped their giggles to stare at the doorway, any conversation was paused at the sudden announcement.

Anthony walked to stand next to his mother, getting a good look at you, “Court?” He asked, brows furrowed in a bit of confusion. 

Kate quickly stood from the piano and walked to Anthony, grasping his arm gently, “Anthony, I implore you.” She mumbled into her husband's ear before turning to smile at you, “I apologize.” She spoke on his behalf, trying to stay as polite as possible.

You bowed gently to her, “There is no need for that Viscountess Bridgerton, I do understand why he would ask.” You assured her, standing straight as you made eye contact with the man of the house who you had yet to answer. “To answer your concerns, Viscount Bridgerton, indeed. I wish to court the Lady Violet.” You spoke, turning to the subject of the matter, the subject who held a shocked expression on her face.

Violet couldn’t even respond, she could feel her face warming but she was unsure if that was because she was flustered at the sudden position she was in, or if she was flattered. Before she could open her mouth to speak, someone else weaved their way into the conversation.

“You’re asking her?” Gregory asked from the side of the room, voice filled with confusion as he stood next to his sister. 

The room seemed to murmur with agreement, typically if you were courting a dowager, you would go through the eldest son to ask for permission. Anthony seemed just as confused as Violet, so it seemed you didn’t ask him.

You let out a nervous laugh as you finally noticed all the eyes boring into your figure, all you could do was stand awkwardly as you tried to think of an answer for your choices.

Violet noticed your sudden pulse of anxiety and clapped her hands, “Children, could give the noble and me a moment, please?”

Anthony began to shake his head, “Mother-” 

Kate gently tugged at Anthony, “Of course.” She spoke quietly with a nod, looking at Anthony sharply as she led him out the room.

Gregory and Hyacinch were ushered out by Colin who followed behind, Francesca stood from the piano quickly and quietly to walk out the door. Eloise stood with a slightly impressed expression and Benedict did the same, holding out his arm to her to which she took, the two walking out, turning their heads ever so slightly to observe you a bit more.

Soon enough, you and Violet Bridgerton were alone in the drawing room, sure that all of the children were listening at the door. You didn’t mind, you just couldn’t handle all of their eyes on you at once.

Violet laughed a bit, turning to sit on the couch, “I beg your pardon for my children’s behavior, we are all deeply involved in each other's lives.” She spoke softly, turning her head to see you standing in the same place stiffly. “Please, come sit.” 

You nodded with a tense smile, walking to the couch and sitting a respectable amount away from her, turning to face her. “They’re remarkably kind to be as protective as they are.” You responded to her, thinking about how even the youngest was concerned for the break in societal norms.

“I love them dearly.” Violet stated a bit awkwardly, placing her hands in her lap as she looked down at them. “Um, I do not wish to be impertinent, but why are you asking me, initially?” She asked you, looking over at you hesitantly, a bit scared to look at you fully.

You paused for a moment to gather your words before you adjusted your clothing, “I wanted to inquire directly, as I was unsure of your interest.” 

“In you?”

“In a caller who holds interest for you.” You specified, taking a deep breath. “I would never want to place you in a situation where I inquired of another if you were comfortable with someone courting you.” 

Violet hummed, her eyes crinkling as the corners of her lips gently upturned, “So, you sought to ensure that I was… ready?” She tried to confirm, licking her lips slightly.

“If you are not, I completely understand.” You responded, your body relaxing slightly now that you were comfortable in the conversations. 

The woman in front of you thought for a moment, “I shall be honest, this is all so-” Her words were interrupted when the doors broke open, shocking the both of you. Violet let out a small surprised gasp and you clutched the side of the couch in shock of the sudden interruption.

Hyacinth rushed in, looking around before locking onto her mother, “Mama! The noble brought gifts!” She announced, looking behind her and running when Benedict came to collect her. 

“Hyacinth!” Benedict spoke through gritted teeth before giving you both a sweet smile, turning to grab his little sister.

Due to the interruption, everyone filed back in, as did carts and carts of presents for the Bridgerton family.

Violet stared, wide eyed, at the collection of different items, some of which she had never seen sell in their town. “This is too much!” She spoke, standing, hand over her chest as she watched more gifts appear. 

You stood as well, dancing on your heels slightly, “Having developed an interest in you and your family over these past few years, it only felt appropriate to present gifts.” You expressed, looking to make sure everything was there.

“You neglected to mention that you brought gifts.” The woman told you, an unexplained feeling being expressed on her.

“I will be honest,” You began, chewing the inside of your cheek, “your family is beautiful as well as intimidating.” You breathed out a chuckle, looking to the floor before looking over at Violet, “I did slightly forget.”

The woman couldn’t hold back her laughter at your words as she placed a hand on your shoulder, “This is all so beautiful.” She told you, watching as the children all went to separate carts before she herself walked forward to one filled with flowers. “These are gorgeous.” She told you, hand gently running over the petals of them.

“I did not know which were your favorite.”

She turned to you, “Hyacinths are my favorite.” 

“I shall note that.” You told her gently, standing back as they all admired the presents.

Eloise stumbled upon a cart filled with books, strange material dawning the bindings, “I’ve never laid eyes on such books before.” She commented, mostly to herself. 

You overheard her musings to herself and spoke up, “They are from my expeditions. Journals penned by philosophers and doctors I have encountered.”

She spun to face you, “Oh, how delightful. More men regurgitating the same ideas they’ve echoed for ages.” She spoke sarcastically, sighing as she returned her attention back to the books.

You nodded a bit at her blunt response, “Most of the writings are by women from different cultures.” You responded, walking over to where Benedict was eyeing another set of gifts.

Eloise watched you walk off and tilted her head thoughtfully, “Oh.”

Benedict lifted a polished wooden box, opening it to reveal a spectrum of vibrant paints within it. “These paints…” He began, marveling at the richness, his gaze shifting to the other boxes, a few engraved with his name, “They’re extraordinary!” He complimented with a smile, examining all the different shades and colors. 

Hearing footsteps approaching him, he assumed it was a sibling and turned to tell them about the paint sets with enthusiasm, but it was you. You grinned at him and asked, “Do you enjoy them?”

Surprised, Benedict responded with, “How did you know I like to paint?”

“I’ve seen your pieces.” You responded simply, not elaborating further.

Benedict scoffed within his laughter, “Where on earth-”

“I cannot divulge that information, unfortunately, I do hope you like them.” You interrupted gently, walking over to the others, leaving the conversation to hang.

This is the way that most of the conversation went, from the sweet treats for the children, the jewelry for the women, the saddles for the men. When you reached Francesca, on the other hand, she wasn’t drawn to any of the items necessarily.

You stood next to her, “Do none of these catch your eye?” You asked, gaze fixed forward rather than towards her.

The girl looked over at you briefly before returning forward, “Everything is lovely,” she replied in a soft voice. 

“None of them catch your eye?” You repeated, your tone calm, almost peaceful.

Francesca shook her head, “They do not.”

Acknowledging her response, you nodded. Leaning forward to one of the carts, you picked up a rather thick box and handed it to Francesca. 

“I do not paint.” She informed you, anticipating what was inside of the wooden boxes due to Benedict's reaction.

Leaning closer to her you whispered, “They are not paints,” before walking back over to Violet who was still looking over everything, unsure of how you were able to get so many items into her home in a short period of time.

When you walked away, Francesca sighed and settled at the piano bench, opening the box you had given her. She was surprised at the sight, they were indeed not paints. A smile broke out onto the girl's face as she eagerly scrambled through the wooden box. It was paper, they weren’t blank sheets, but they were intricate piano compositions. They hailed for composes she had never heard before, but they seemed just her pace, she couldn’t wait to try it out.

Once you finally reached Violet again, the woman seemed calmer than her originally nervous stature. She met your eyes and thanked you over and over again for the gifts, she spoke about how happy her children looked, she spoke about all the beautiful things you brought.

You looked at her with a gentle light in your eyes, not speaking over her, simply listening. When she finished her thankful rambles she awaited you to speak but you gently took her hands and kissed them, almost feather-light. 

Your eyes flicked up to her and stayed in her gaze as your head lifted to its original position, “Please, do think about it.” 

That was the final thing you said to Violet Bridgerton before you took your leave, removing yourself from the Bridgerton home, your mark being made on the family.

The Bridgerton home was now filled with conversation about the almost mysterious noble who filled their drawing room with gifts, and basically asked for their mothers hand. The only topic of conversation at dinner was everyone expressing the presents they had been given, their reviews, how interesting they all were, and more. The only person eating in silence was Violet herself.

After dinner Violet found herself in front of her mirror, brushing her hair quietly as she prepared herself for bed.  A knock sounded at her bedroom door gently, almost too quietly. She rose from her seat in front of her mirror and opened the door, greeted by the face of her eldest son, Anthony, who appeared troubled..

“Anthony, darling, is something the matter?”

Anthony had a deep frown on his face when she asked such a question, “I should be asking you that.” He told her, silently seeking permission to enter the room. 

Violet opened the door wider and walked into her room, sitting on her bed as Anthony closed the room door quietly, opting to stand rather than sit. 

His mother hummed quietly, “Something seems to be wrong.”

The eldest son huffed as he looked at his mother intently, “How do you feel about this?”

She blinked, slightly taken aback, “Whatever do you mean?”

“I mean,” Anthony began, sitting next to her, “the noble asked to court you.” He reminded her, looking at her a bit confused on how she would have forgotten. “It doesn’t matter how they’ve charmed the family, they’ve asked to court you, personally.” He told Violet, crossing his arms slightly, “How are you feeling about that?”

Violet turned her gaze to the wall in front of her, contemplating. She had thought the initial shock had settled when you had left, but it was evident that it was still there. She gently placed her hand over her heart as she took a deep breath, “I find it quite flattering, unexpected, but flattering.” She whispered, avoiding her son's gaze.

“But, are you going to accept their request to court you?”

There was a pause as Violet pondered deeply, “I do not know.” She admitted honestly, shaking her head as she imagined the possibility, “I do not know if I can.”

Anthony sighed, gathering his thoughts. “What do you mean, if you can?”

Violet shook her head again, her hand still pressed against her chest, it suddenly felt painful to breathe. “I do not believe I am allowed to.”

“Allowed?”

“Am I able to just…” She took a breath, tears welling up unexpectedly. “Am I able to just move on like that, so easily?” She asked, her vision fogging as a sob quietly choked out. “Would Edmund ever forgive me?” She covered her mouth with one of her hands to stifle any further cries but it proved ineffective.

Anthony had witnessed his mothers vulnerable moments and it had always been difficult. After his father's passing, he had assumed the role of head of the household, yet he had never seen his mother so distraught.  She was giving birth to his youngest sister, and she was devastated at the mere idea of his father not being there. Anthony froze in the moment, he didn’t know what to do, he didn’t know how to be there for his mother…and he realized that now, he still didn’t.

Seeing her cry over the guilt of moving on from her first love, questioning if she deserved to be loved by someone new, shattered Anthony's heart into pieces. He slowly wrapped an arm around his mothers crying figure, letting her lean into him as she wept. He smoothed her hair with one of his hands, cheek to the crown of her head as he slowly rocked them both. 

She had every right to feel this way, he just never expected it to hit her all at once. It must’ve been overwhelming, so Anthony just held her quietly, smoothing her hair until her cries quieted down to small hiccups.

“Mama,” He whispered to the woman, waiting for her to respond.

She hummed to let him know she was listening, but she couldn’t find the strength to say anything more in that moment.

Anthony nodded, still holding her close, “I think father would just…” he tried to speak but the words caught in his throat as he thought about his father. 

He remembered how kind his father was, how he wanted nothing but the best for all of their family, how he was never a man to raise his voice. Anthony considered a world where he could speak to his father one more time, where he could ask one last question. He wouldn’t ask if he missed them, if he wanted to be with them, because Anthony knew he would want to. He would ask if his father would truly forgive his mother, and after a moment of contemplating the idea, Anthony believed he knew the answer.

“I think father wouldn’t forgive you.” He suddenly declared, feeling his mother shift her head to look up at him. He knew she would try to speak, but he stopped her with a gentle hand, “I think he wouldn’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive.”

“What do you mean?” She asked, her voice trembling.

Anthony blinked back his own growing tears as he spoke about his father, it was always hard, it would never become easier. “Father always wished for us to be happy, to live, to love, to enjoy ourselves…” He trailed off, trying to find the courage to continue.

“He did always want us to enjoy ourselves, what does that have t-”

“I believe father would want you to remarry if you were ready to love again.” Anthony interrupted, his words were rushed and emotional. It almost seemed as if he struggled to get the sentence out, as if it were hard for the reality of the situation to be accepted.

Violet blinked at Anthony, taken aback “Pardon?”

“Father would want you to live happily; he always wished for it.” He spoke, looking at the floor as he cradled his mother, “I believe…no…” Anthony interrupted his own thoughts, “I know he would want us to remember him fondly, but he would never want to be the reason we hold ourselves off from moving on.”

“Anthony, I am happy with all of you…”

“If you truly had no intention of accepting, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.” Anthony stated firmly, pulling back from his mother to look her in her eyes. “If you really weren’t considering it, you would have declined the noble’s offer.” 

The words rang in the air for a moment and Violet found herself unable to respond. She couldn’t articulate her thoughts because Anthony was right, she wouldn’t be agonizing over Edmund if a part of her didn’t yearn to accept the courtship.

Seeing as his mother wasn’t ready to reply, Anthony gently withdrew himself from her embrace, “Think about it a bit more, Mother.” He urged gently, walking to the door, “Goodnight.” He bid her, closing the door behind him and leaving Violet Bridgerton alone in her bedroom.

The only thing the woman could think of as she laid her head on the pillow were her son's words, “I think he wouldn’t forgive you, because there’s nothing to forgive.”

A week later, and there had been no sign of you. Violet seemed quieter than usual, but the children didn’t necessarily comment on it, neither did Anthony as he had seen how conflicted his mother was.

In the drawing room, only Violet sat, she would sit alone for a few more moments, even after her family had left. No one questioned her sudden solitude or asked if she wished to join them, they knew she would in due time

Lost in thought, Violet was absently playing with her fingers. She gazed at the windows where she could see people walking the streets, the sun shining on them heavenly. After a while, she stood and brushed herself off with a soft smile, making her way to the door to rejoin her family.

She would’ve continued had the footman not arrived at the door, hands at his sides when he entered. “My lady, you have a caller.” He announced, awaiting her response.

Violet straightened, her eyes widening briefly before she composed herself, “Yes, of course.” She mumbled slightly. “Please, send them in.” She told him quietly, standing in front of the entrance. 

You entered with a warm smile on your face, holding a bouquet of the most exquisite flowers Violet had ever seen. 

Violet curtsied graciously, “Good day, Noble.” She greeted, looking up nervously, her demeanor resembling a debutante in her first season.

You bowed in return, “Good day, Viscountess Bridgerton.” You replied, standing tall as you approached her, gently presenting the bouquet. 

“My favorites…” Violet whispered, observing the Hyacinths with lightly sparkling eyes.

“I took note.” You responded quietly, admiring her reaction.

Violet lightly laughed in response, turning to arrange the flowers in a vase. “Um, do you have time for lunch?” She asked somewhat hastily, attempting to be welcoming, but she was overall fairly nervous.

You shook your head regretfully, “Unfortunately not, I’ve come to bring you a gift and thank you for accepting my invitation.”

“Oh, well, you’re welcome.” She spoke a bit solemnly.

You stepped closer, gently taking her hands in yours. “I have business this morning, but I would like to return tomorrow. Perhaps we could take a walk in the afternoon, if you would enjoy that?”

The woman gently nodded, a stray curl from her pinned up hair gently escaping, “I would enjoy that…” She responded, her voice falling off as you tucked the curl back into place.

“I shall look forward to it then.” You said, bowing gracefully before making your way out of the Bridgerton estate.

Once you were gone, Violet couldn’t help but gently smell the flowers you had gotten for her. You were quite thoughtful and she recognized that early on, but the flowers only reinforced the sentiment.

The brown haired woman smiled to herself, “Maybe this really will be good for me.” She whispered, walking out of the drawing room to join her family.

The beautiful hyacinths rested on the ledge amidst the family portraits, appearing as though the space there was meant for them all along. As though they belonged there.

[cloveroctobers]

PAUL CHO — summer prompts 🍋

A/N: let’s give it up for our beloved himbo, paul 👏🏽 beef is relatively a good show minus that disgusting being that shouldn’t be welcomed back next season. I was just happy to see Steven in more work and was definitely checked in. Although the posts are now dry in the beef tag, especially for Paul! I’m still going to drop this and head out. The Cho bros deserve some love and something easy, although this is mainly Paul focused! The point still stands ☝🏾

PROMPTS from here + using: i. one passes out from heat stroke & ii. 3AM convenient store run for slushies and snacks.

·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚₊· ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ ·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚ ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ · ·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚₊· ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ ·˚ ·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚₊· ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ ·˚ ·˚

Paul knew that the both of you shouldn’t have been outside today. He was perfectly fine being locked up in his empty apartment, streaming live on twitch for income with the AC and fans on full blast. However he let you, his best friend persuade him to get out of the house.

Being locked up in the house became a routine after everything went down. Paul didn’t want anyone inside of the apartment, including his own parents who spent their time in a motel while they waited around wishing and praying on Danny’s well-being. Paul cut most of his other friends off and fell into a dark space as everything that unfolded began to truly settle in.

It wasn’t until you came along, threatening and ready to break the door down did Paul let you in. Even if you weren’t talking, he still sorta enjoyed your company since the apartment felt lonely and stuffier than usual.

Despite the warnings of the heatwave, which made news that it would be approaching the city a week prior, you thought it was a good idea to head out to the pier on a early Saturday afternoon.

The both of you took the hour and in a half ride out to the pier, with you driving Danny’s rusted truck since your 2008 Mitsubishi was in your cousin’s shop with its radiator being worked on. The ride was peaceful enough, with the stereo on blast and the windows down but talking about what transpired was Paul’s boundary that you respected while you still came around.

You hoped he would too.

The sun was roasting down on the both of you as you trailed along the deck, a few people were also walking but not much: one woman with an umbrella who carried on in the opposite direction, a elderly man with a bucket hat on was up ahead by the edge fishing, and a family was tending to each other as the mom attempted to soothe her screaming baby who seemed to be upset that their maybe five year old brother smacked their now melting ice cream to the ground, the father seemed to be hiding his laughter with his own ice cream while he kept a tight grip on the leash of their fluffy white dog, until his wife started fussing him out.

Paul watched them for a moment on your way by, even turning over his shoulder to continue watching them while he held onto a yellow slushie, and you were right beside him with your water filled tumbler that you barely took a sip out of.

“The big brother looks like a turd,” Paul comments as he turns back to face your direction.

You shrugged, “I would have yanked my sister by the edges if she did me like that on this hot ass day.”

“He’ll learn.” Paul answers with a small grin by his lips.

He suddenly stops and hands his passion fruit slushie to you, “Hold this for a sec, I’m taking my shirt off. It’s seriously sticking to my stomach.”

Stopping you take the beverage as Paul swiftly yanks his shirt over his head, and throws it over his shoulder before the both of you carry on walking, “That’s better.”

“Did you even put sunscreen on?”

“Of course I did. You only reminded me thirteen hundred times this morning.”

“I mean on your torso, smart ass.” You motioned while Paul glanced downwards and hummed thinking about it.

“Uh…I didn’t think about that. Maybe I would have considered it if we went to a nude beach,” he smirks and bumps his shoulder with yours.

Scoffing you stop walking and reach out to pull on his wrist. Paul turns to you as your now searching your Prada mini backpack for the aerosol free sunscreen.

Paul gives you a look, “really?”

“Yes, really. You are not getting a sunburn on my watch, bestie. I don’t want to hear you bitch and moan about it later. Now be thankful I care and turn around.” You whirled your finger around, while cradling your tumbler underneath your arm and against your stomach as you shook the can about.

Paul rolls his eyes with a sigh before doing so and says, “I better not catch you looking at my ass.”

“Oh, brother.” You mockingly gag while Paul laughs.

You get to work spraying the sunscreen all over his back, hands feeling hot against Paul’s slightly sticky skin, rubbing the white residue in before gripping his shoulder to spin him around to spray his front.

“Go ahead, I’ve always known you wanted to cop a feel.”

“Nope! You’re gonna do that yourself since you want to act like a pig.” You mockingly give him a smile before twisting the can and shoving it into Paul’s hands.

Paul’s laughing as he did the honors and bites down on his bottom lip, “is this doing it for you?”

“You’re nasty,” you scrunched up your nose before throwing the sunscreen back into your expensive bag which was your first big purchase all on your own due to finding your place in the cam career field, “and I’m strongly considering karate kicking you in the throat.”

“Hey! You’re supposed to be hyping me up.”

He began to flex and pose on the pier. Sunlight hitting him just right along with the gold chain around his neck as his tawny skin shined underneath the rays.

“Not when you do douchebag things, babes.” You snapped and pointed at him before you walked away.

Paul’s getting a kick out of annoying you, it’s his thing. Always has been since the both of you went to high school together with you transferring from the east coast sophomore year. It wasn’t a instant thing of being friends, he just knew you since you were basically a friend of a friend’s sister’s new friend. He didn’t know how you did it being friends with his friend’s friend’s sister since she was a know-it-all who eventually ending up working in real-estate according to Facebook.

Imelda “Melly” Alcantara.

She ended up switching up on you senior year by trying to accuse you of flirting with her no good boyfriend that nobody in the friend group liked. He got handsy with you, legit tried to get up underneath your skirt at the lunch table but she only saw one side of it despite her twin brother telling her off and ready to throw hands at her smug boyfriend. Paul always suspected that Nimuel had a crush on you which you denied (he had quite a few girlfriends, some upper and under class throughout the years—basically he was in and out of relationships but all his exes had to say was, “he’s too sweet.”) once the both of you became close.

It would have been interesting to see where Nimuel ended up, since he was the only one that promised to keep in touch with the both of you out of the group. The both of you lost him not long after graduating, one day before his eighteenth birthday to a drunk driver.

Losing anyone is painful but losing someone you thought and wanted to be around forever is a indescribable feeling. You start to think about the what if’s and play the last memory you had of them along with the good ones. The light of the world dimmed a bit that night and that’s probably one of the reasons why you and Paul held on a little tighter to your friendship.

“You actually look like you need the sunscreen more than me,” Paul tells you as he peeks over at you, faintly remembering how hot your skin felt against his back. The sunscreen had to do something about that right? Paul thought.

The both of you were approaching the end of the pier where the seagulls squawked on and fled the closer you got. The sea smelled like salt and seaweed as the turquoise waves rolled underneath your feet, sparkling like diamonds with each way the rays hit the water.

“Hm.”

Your head seemed to pulsate a bit, along with a throbbing pain that started right after. Leaning against the banister, there was a smile that appeared on Paul’s face as he slurped down the rest of his slushie. The sea was kinda therapeutic and shit if you thought about it, Paul thought to himself while your thoughts were placed on mute.

He began speaking randomly about the water but nothing he said was heard. You fell to your right, tumbler clunking to the floor while you now lay on your side. Paul’s eyes are wide in confusion; it takes him seconds to spring up once he realizes it’s you on the ground. If it were any other time he would have assumed you tripped or something, you were kinda clumsy which is why you never made it on the cheerleading team (or step) with your other friend from the friend group, Shaina Kaylock.

Last Paul knew, she was studying to be a doctor and was all grins as she completed her bachelors that she posted on Instagram which was also her circular profile pic. She was always kinda spacey, loved to do shrooms, and was definitely a horse girl so Paul honestly assumed she would be a vet maybe instead of studying to be a whole oncologist.

A doctor’s a doctor right? Paul kinda wished Shaina was here right now you know? Since you just decided to take a nap on him.

“Hey, what the hell? C’mon, stop playing around.” Paul bends and reached over to pull on your bare shoulder but it’s dead weight as you’re now on your back.

He feels his heart almost spike at this image and his breathing halts at the sight of you. He tossed his empty cup to the side now, down on his knees as he grips your jaw and lightly starts tapping on your face. You don’t flinch even when he starts putting more force into those taps. Paul doesn’t even see any specs of sweat by your hair line and your skin feels dry, which is also weird to him since he saw you applying more black girl sunscreen to your face not long after your Uber dropped you off with a pocket mirror as your guide in his living room.

Your skin should at least feel tacky if not damp.

Paul was for sure not a doctor but this was terrifying to see. He’s screaming for help now but of course the pier is now empty before his eyes settle on a tumbler waiting to slide into the ocean. Careful Paul stretches his long limbs out for the bottle and snatches it towards him; he’s unscrewing the top and dumps some of the water on your face.

Still nothing.

Then it registers for him to check his pockets for his phone and he’s telling Siri to call 9-1-1 while his heart feels like it’s about to fall out of his ass.

A heat stroke.

You were so concerned about Paul not having any sunscreen on and you go and have a heat stroke on him.

The irony!

It’s five (if you could sync your thoughts with Paul, you’d tell him it’s nine but that would turn into a whole argument that you were not willing to waste your breath on) in the afternoon and your eyes are not the size of the moon since they’re still very much closed. Paul’s quietly entering back into the room and he notices that the cooling blanket that’s been on you since they loaded you into the ambulance has been removed.

Which means your shivering must have stopped.

Paul’s eyeing you as he listens to your heart rate, walking around your bed to place some snacks down onto the night stand. The minute he does take his eyes off you, Something to the right of him flings out in his direction making Paul jump.

“What the fuck?” His voice booms.

Your laughing while you pull your hand back to rest against your stomach, “gotcha!” You say before you fall into a coughing mess.

The scowl on Paul’s face turns to concern as he holds the slushie up to your lips, leaving you to take a sip and allow the blueberry slush to melt in your mouth.

“Yeah, I see you’re doing somewhat better.” He places it back on the stand before pulling a chair closer to your bed.

Slowly blinking you say, “…where am I? Who are you?”

“This isn’t a joke. I thought it was over for you and you’re still not out of the woods yet so I’d knock it off if I were you.” Paul folds his arms in front of himself.

So serious, that one.

You already knew this since there was a nurse who was in here not too long before Paul came back. She removed the blanket once there was no shivering and told you they were waiting on your urine test along with some other stuff you forgot, considering you were half-awake. You were sure the doctor would be back whenever since you hardly got any sleep in this kind of place.

“Oh-Kay then Paul, what did you bring me?”

Paul rolls his head to the side as he peeks at the snacks he went out and got for you. He knew how much hospital food sucked taking into account the one night he stayed up here with Danny, telling him exactly how he’s made him feel and that sure he’s wanted him out of his life but that didn’t mean Paul wanted his big brother dead.

He wasn’t sure what the nature of their relationship would be once he woke up and Paul was sure his parents would want them to mend it. However he was tired of his parents wanting him to sweep shit under the rug and ignoring the problem. It was time for Paul to do his own shit, for real this time.

Being in the same hospital Danny laid in was making Paul uneasy and you joking about your health without knowing the end result was making Paul triggered honestly. He’s also saw Amy on his way in but he didn’t want to bring that up either.

“I’ve got all your favorites. I didn’t want you to starve in here, your options are: mambas, sea salt and olive oil popcorn, lemon zing pistachios, or chocolate orange crips.” He blinks back over to you.

You reach for the crisps but Paul smacks your hand down, “I got you, relax.”

He pops the bag open for you while you hold your hand out for the snack. You waste no time slapping the orange crisps into your mouth and hum while exhaling in content, eyes closed.

Paul sniffs at the snack and pops one into his mouth, “it better be worth it for the price I paid for these.”

He shrugs after tasting it before tossing it up into your lap before folding his arms along the edge of the hospital bed. He places his chin on top of his clasped hands while you happily eat your snack before focusing on the energy of the room.

“We’re gonna be alright, kid. What did Bob tell us on the ride up to the pier?”

“I don’t want to quote fucking Bob Marley right now.”

“Well…” you clutched your pearls, “this is my message to you-o-o: thanks for the snacks and being here.”

Paul’s eyes are on yours now, “where else would I be? I’m not going anywhere.”

You shush him, “just take my love and don’t question it.”

“Fine…only if you agree to make out with me.”

“And he’s back! Over.” You respond into a makeshift walkie.

Paul winks just as you poke his cheek with a tired smile. He sits up after awhile, watching the profile of you as you seem to be okay and worked up a appetite when you probably needed more fluids on top of the IV in your left hand right now. You were always stunning to Paul no matter the stage and he almost passed out himself when you stood up from the couch in that tube dress you had on earlier.

Yet he had to keep his composure because you were simply his best friend. Although it slipped out sometimes and you brushed it off as mere flirting majority of the time, there were truths behind a good portion of Paul’s past statements. Putting the shallowness aside, he always admired how you were able to adjust to any situation and if the situation required for you to have a moment, you allowed it to be felt and picked yourself up just to carry on. You were also very nurturing which provided balance to Paul’s tenderness.

“I don’t know…you okay over there Pauly Wally? You’re looking like you’re a little bit in love.” You joke.

I might be.

Paul snorts instead and uses his fingers to close your eyes for you, “I think you need another nap.”

You laugh just as a knock is heard at the door. Both of your eyes turn to the door as Paul’s hand drops to rest against the one that just hid the crips behind your pillow. The both of you feel your lips twitch as the doctor enters the room, one of your fingers lifting to intertwine with Paul’s as the doctor is ready to deliver some news while the heat continues to steam outside.

·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚₊· ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ ·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚ ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ · ·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚₊· ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ ·˚ ·˚ ◌༘₊ ·˚₊· ͟͞꒰ׂׂૢ ·˚ ·˚

Continue along with my summer anthology prompts here.

[mashedcontroller]

I have no idea how or why, but for some reason, my dog will absolutely shred my friend's shoes but she doesn't touch mine whatsoever.

She likes to play this game with mom where she begs to be let in from the backyard, mom lets her in, then the dog goes through the doggy door to repeat cycle. She only does this to mom. I used her doing this to make her run back and forth across the outside from one window to another. The entire situation is made weirder by this one time the doggy door was closed, so she smacked her face and temporarily forgot how to use the doggy door. So she had to relearn it.

The dog also understands to scratch on the door to be let in and stand in front of the door to be let out. So, on being let in, I'll usually say "I'm coming" and she won't scratch on the door because it's followed up by me opening the door. However, she's gotten devious on the second half. Sometimes she'll pretend to want to be let out, only to immediately start trying to play or recieve pets when I get up to let her out. There are also two doors leading to my room. If one door is closed, the dog knows that she can scratch on the door to be let in. If both doors are closed, it either means I'm not there or I don't want her in my room at that moment.

Another funny thing is that mom accidentally taught the dog the command "go wake up (me)" because she'd repeatedly say it before opening the door to my room, prompting the dog to jump on my bed. So, for a few weeks I end up sleeping with my door open, mom says "go wake up (me)" and the dog makes a b line for my bed.

She's also learned that I tend to let the dog get away with forbidden behavior. So, she got this one toy that she thought was forbidden, so it stayed in my room. I took the toy away for, like, a week (it was supposed to be, like, a day, because friend was bringing their dog over and I didn't want friend's dog to destroy the toy, but then I forgot about it), and when I gave her the toy back, she just looks at me and takes the toy upstairs, never to appear in my room again (I'm sorry doggo I didn't mean it D:).

Previous dog I had was a Whippet. This dog somehow learned how to open every door in the house, which prompted my parents to replace every door handle into a doorknob because the dog would just keep letting herself in. She also learned the concept of f=mv², to which I mean, whenever she wanted to tug you on a walk, she'd back up to your side before sprinting forwards (small dog but desires Pull). She'd also respond to having blankets piled on top of her by retreating into the blankets.

Gotta love animals. :)

What are your best animal training fails?

Mine:

- when I was teaching my dog Pinkman to boop she thought she was getting food for hitting her head on things so for like two full weeks she ran around indiscriminately smashing her face into walls and furniture and then asking for a treat

- trying to teach my baby horse Nugget to bow but now he’s just constantly checking his armpits for food

[queenclaudiabrown]

The Scarecrow | Chapter Three: Vanishing Acts

     Dawn painted the sky and the fields and the house in a plethora of warm and vibrant colors and tones, washing over those that slept on the east side of the house through their windows and the worn-thin curtains.

     Natalie slept in the fetal position on her left side, both arms wrapped around her legs with her knees almost touching her chin. Marty tended to fall asleep spooning Grace, but in the night she usually rolled over onto her stomach and he'd roll onto his back. Melody favored 'the yearner' and generally slept on her right side. Eric slept in the freefall position, which he always wound up in no matter how he fell asleep to alleviate the neck pain. Dave slept like a starfish, which surprised absolutely no one, and Zak was some unholy combination of fetal, log, and starfish. Beth, ironically, slept like a soldier.

     Beth was the first one to wake, with Eric soon after and Melody ten minutes later. Zak and Marty woke about the same time twenty minutes after that, and Grace was the last to come to.

     She rolled over and smiled up at her boyfriend, who was watching her adoringly. "Morning honey." He greeted.

     "G'morning." She murmured back, bringing up one toned arm to place its hand on the back of his head to draw him down for a kiss. "What time is it?"

     "Almost eight." He replied. "I think you're the last to wake up. I'm gonna take a quick shower, if you don't mind."

     "No, go ahead. I'll go start breakfast."

     In her room, Beth went to the window after getting dressed to gaze upon the new day and bask in the early morning light. But as her eyes traveled over the landscape down below, her blood ran cold. She bolted down the stairs and burst into the kitchen. "Grace! Grace!"

     The other blonde jumped, accidentally spattering some pancake batter on herself. "Sheesh, Beth, what the h3ll?"

     "The scarecrow's gone!" She cried, eyes wide with panic.

     "Beth, what's wrong?" Melody queried, appearing from the living room with a concerned face. Natalie followed a few feet behind, frowning.

     "I looked out the window, and the scarecrow is missing." Beth explained panickily.

     "Yeah, I saw it too." Eric joined in, bumping past them all to refill his coffee. "Looked pretty raggedy- maybe the wind did it. Or somebody-" he gave a pointed look at Grace "-decided it'd be a funny prank after that story last night."

     Startling them all, Dave careened through the dining room doorway and narrowly avoided smacking into the stove. "The scarecrow, it's gone! Héctor's back!"

     "Oh God, not you too." Melody groaned, burying her face in her hands.

     Marty sauntered in the kitchen, freshly dressed with still-wet hair. "What's all the hullaballoo?"

     "Scarecrow's gone; Beth and Dave think Héctor Gilabert is wandering around." Natalie reported.

     "Seriously?" He raised his eyebrows in a blend of curiosity and skepticism.

     "Look, like Eric said, it's probably just a prank." Grace broke in. "And dдɱи, it was funny, I'm not gonna lie. But not all of us feel that way, so... c'mon, fess up." She prompted.

     The group shifted awkwardly in place, looking amongst each other.

     Grace frowned. "You're not gonna get in trouble." She coaxed.

     Yet still, no one confessed. After a long moment, she shrugged. "Alright, alright, don't tell us. As long as you tell me where you hid him before vacation's over so I can put him back for when my parents get home, I really don't care."

     Breakfast consisted of eggs, pancakes, bacon, and canned peaches, another hearty and delicious meal that they all thoroughly enjoyed. After that, most of them chose to lounge around and read, although Natalie and Dave discovered a chess set and started playing in the dining room.

     "I'm going out for a bit!" Grace announced a few hours later.

      "Want me to come with you?" Marty asked, half-rising from his chair, a book in his hand.

     Grace popped her head into view. "Nah, it's all boring errands. I'm gonna go check on everything, just in case the scarecrow thing is real- which I'm sure it's not-, try to find that stupid straw doll, make sure there's no birds' nests in the well bucket, that sort of thing. I should be back in less than an hour."

     "Okay." Marty replied. "I'll see you when you get back then, honey."

     It was only when Marty realized how much of the book he had read that he finally looked up at the clock and realized something wasn't right. Concerned, he closed the book and got up, seeking out the nearest person, who happened to be Zak. "Hey, I'm worried."

     His friend frowned. "What is it?"

     "Well, it's Grace. She said she'd be gone less than an hour, and it's been over an hour and a half." He explained. "I mean, it's probably nothing, but she's a very timely person."

     "What if Héctor got her?" Dave suggested seriously, coming down the stairs. "He's gone from his post, and she's out there all alone."

     Natalie came out of the kitchen. "I doubt that's the case." Seeing the deeply concerned looks on his and Marty's faces, however, she sighed. "Alright, why don't we all go out together and check where she said she'd be? That way, we can all rest assured everything's fine?"

     It only took a few minutes to round up the others, and then the seven set off through the cornfield in the direction of the well.

     They had never seen the well before, but the scene before them was definitely not right. Crimson painted the ashy grey of the well and much of the trampled grass around it. Crisscrossing gouges filled with red fluid in the mud gave the impression that someone had clawed at the earth frantically. Beside them was the imprint of about half of a face, as if someone- likely Grace herself- had been slammed headfirst into the ground. A few feet away, closer to the cornfield between the well and house, was one of Grace's white sneakers- now stained red in places- and not far from it lay a broken silver chain.

     Marty crouched and picked up the chain. "It's her anklet." He said. "I bought it for her on our first mall date. She never takes it off."

     "There's no one here but us, so who could've done this?" Eric reasoned. "Maybe- Maybe she's just playing a prank on us."

     Marty shook his head grimly. "She's not like that. She dropped ice down the back of my shirt once and apologized for hours. She wouldn't go this far for a prank. Something's happened to her. Maybe someone from college followed us up, someone who wanted to hurt her or one of us. Or somebody from town. But this isn't her."

     "Maybe we missed something." Natalie suggested.

     They stood in silence for a moment. Then, Melody reluctantly squatted down and pinched one of the red-soaked blades of grass between her fingers pulling them up the length of it to collect the sticky substance. Already grimacing, she popped them into her mouth, only to make an even sourer face. "Blood." She confirmed their ominous assumption before spitting on the ground to get it out of her mouth. She opened her mouth to speak, then closed it again, then took a breath and bit the bullet. "Marty...if a human Grace's size lost this much blood, could they survive?"

     Marty's head jerked and he swallowed. "Uh... uh, let me think." After a few moments of mental calculation, his face grew grim, giving them their answer. "If she did, she'd probably be unconscious, and she still might not make it."

     Natalie walked back a few steps, rocking back and forth between her heels and the balls of her feet, surveying the scene with a wider perspective and a frown-furrowed brow. After a moment, she spoke up. "There's no body. So... either she's still alive, or whoever did this took her somewhere else to finish the job."

     "And if she's alive and not their prisoner, but also not at the house, where could she be?" Dave questioned logically.

     "She might've tried to make it back, but passed out on the way." Melody reasoned. She turned around and stared at the cornfield. "Maybe she's somewhere in there. Or, we don't know where the caves are, maybe she ran off to one of them."

     Eric leaned against the well, curiously glancing down at it. He did a double-take and reached into the well, plucking something out of the water. "Hey, look at this." He said, staring down at what was in his palm. The others gathered around to see it as well, and their blood collectively ran cold.

     Burnt straw.

     "My God." Beth breathed in horror. She reached out and touched one piece with a pink-nailed fingertip, then immediately retracted it. "Héctor."

     "That's ridiculous." Scoffed Natalie. "It was just a silly story."

     "Then where's the scarecrow and why is there burnt straw?" The blonde challenged.

     "A prank, maybe, at least on the scarecrow bit." She suggested. "Or maybe it's somebody else using the legend of the scarecrow to freak us all out and kill her."

     "Don't say that!" Marty snapped. "Don't say that. We don't know anything for sure yet. She could still be alive."

     "Then why don't we all split up and comb the field for her, yeah?" Dave suggested, stepping in to calm down his suddenly confrontational friend. "If she's anywhere nearby, dead or alive, she's probably somewhere in there."

     The group nodded and spoke in agreement, and so they split up, each taking a separate row with a few more between them and the next person. They walked the entirety of the field, calling out for Grace, searching high and low for any sign of her or anyone else.

     And yet there was nothing.

     Eventually, the sun dropped so low that none of them could well justify staying outside, and they retreated to the house. Natalie, Zak, and Melody agreed with each other to lock the door.

     Yet as Melody was fastening the deadbolt, Marty rushed toward her. "What do you think you're doing?" He demanded.

     Melody sighed. "Look, if Grace is still alive, she has the keys, and she can get back in. But if she's not, then we need to protect ourselves from anyone and anything out there. Hopefully, she'll be back, in which case this was all a big misunderstanding and we'll laugh it off tomorrow."

     Marty sighed. "Fine. I'm going to bed."

     "Goodnight." The others chorused.

     Grace did not return.

[animeomegas]

Omega!Bakugou headcanons

Anon: Pssssss imma need some more omega Bakugou like now no it make him jealous too because why not

AND

Anon: hi! could you do some omega!bakugou x male alpha!reader? nsfw and sfw pls <3

nesting too pls!! idk why but I love the idea of nesting sjdjsnd, pregnant bakugou fluff would be lovely too <3

AND

Anon: Hi I was wonder if you could do omega Bakugou sfw and nsfw please 🥺

(Hey, everyone!! Bakugou is very popular in my inbox! Okay, let’s write some omega!Bakugou headcanons <3 I have another request for pregnant!Bakugou, so I’ll add that part of the middle request to another post 😊 Also, I only write for a gender neutral reader. I hope you all enjoy~)

Warnings: N-sfw under a cut, suggestive behaviour multiple times not under the cut.

Nesting:

Bakugou is not an omega who is big on nesting. He does nest and he’s very proud of his nest, but he doesn’t feel the urge to nest super often.

He doesn’t keep a permanent, all year-round nest, he’s kind of a clean freak so having to constantly clean all the blankets in his nest would drive his nuts.

He does nest during his heat and late term pregnancy, and also after periods of extreme stress, but not often outside of these times.

But if he knows his alpha likes his nests, he might build them for his alpha when they’re stressed, although he’ll claim he just felt like making it and it shouldn’t go to waste.

It’s not a very convincing lie.

His nest is not in a very popular style, mainly because Bakugou overheats so easily.

It’s a simple double mattress on a very low frame, with a couple of pillows and sheet like blankets that he normally uses as a base rather than a covering.

He has a black and red colour scheme that he thinks is the coolest thing ever, and he definitely has an All Might pillow hidden somewhere at the back that he threatens his alpha to keep a secret, it’s very cute.

He likes his nest to be in an easily defendable position, whether that be inside a large cupboard or wardrobe, or a small room with one door and a small window.

Bakugou also keeps a mini fridge by his nest, as a lot of omegas do, to store water and food, but what he has that a lot of omegas don’t, is a mini freezer too.

He keeps ice packs and ice lollies in there to help when he’s in heat because his temperature tends to get way too high.

Bakugou doesn’t like being vulnerable, so his nest is a sensitive topic for him.

It takes him quite a while to let his alpha into his nest, but he’s quicker to let them chill outside of it, holding his hand and keeping him company. He would probably let them outside his nest after courting for a year and knowing them for at least two years. When he lets them inside depends on a lot of factors, including how well they deal with him from the outside of his nest. It could be anywhere from three months to another year.

Pups:

Bakugou has always wanted some pups, but in a removed and distant kind of way. After all, becoming the No. 1 hero was far more important than any of that ��family’ nonsense.

He only really considers pups when he’s in a very committed relationship and at a comfortable place in his career. He’s not prepared to take time off at a vulnerable career moment, after all.

Bakugou wants two children, because, while he would never admit it, he always wished he had a sibling when he was a kid, so he wants to give that to his children.

But he’s very conflicted about it.

Firstly, two pregnancy leaves would be a huge blow to his career. Prime hero years and prime ‘having children years’ are the same years, so in a way, he has to decide how to balance these two priorities. He isn’t sure he wants to risk his career with that much leave so close together (heroes can’t be in the field while pregnant at all, so it would be a huge sacrifice.)

Secondly, he’s nervous about how useless he would likely feel while pregnant. He’s a workaholic and being confined to his house and losing control over his quirk would drive him nuts.

So, he doesn’t really know what to do. He doesn’t share any of his concerns with his alpha, but he does take their wishes into account too. If his alpha really wants two children, Bakugou does keep that in mind. But he’s not a push over. If he decides that two maternity leaves are too many, then it’s too many. It’s his body and he won’t let anyone tell him otherwise.

So, with all this in mind, Bakugou is fucking thrilled when he finds out he’s having twins.

Two pups for the price of one pregnancy leave?? Sign him the hell up!

Bakugou has twin boys, both alphas, and Bakugou just cannot believe his luck that all his problems just fixed themselves.

“But I don’t want to go!” came a defiant voice from the back seat of the car. Both you and Bakugou sighed, not keen on restarting the disagreement that had plagued the household for the entire morning. It had taken twice as long as normal this morning to get the twins dressed and in the car because of this very argument.

You could see Bakugou about to open his mouth to tell him that they had to, but you held up a hand to stop him.

“Why don’t you want to go, sweetheart?” you cooed at your oldest son.

“I don’t want you and daddy to leave…” whimpered your youngest son, answering in his brother’s stead.

Bakugou winced and reached a hand into the back and squeezed each of his son’s hands in turn.

“I know.” He said simply. You could feel his guilt, even though you both knew it was the best for all of you that the twins get used to nursery so that both you and Bakugou could go back to focusing on your careers. They would be fine, you tried to convince yourself. Millions of kids do this every year and it works out fine.

The nursery came into view, and you refocused your attention onto finding a parking space in the little car park on the side of the building. You could hear your sons shifting anxiously in the back and it pulled at your heart strings. You pulled into an empty space and turned off the engine. You and Bakugou shared a single look before moving to get your children out of the car with practiced ease.

“No,” your eldest son shouted. “I’m not going to go. I’m staying here!”

You had tried to take him out of the car seat, but he had refused to cooperate. You didn’t want to pull him out in case you hurt him. Bakugou came to stand behind you, your youngest son clutching his neck desperately.

“Let me talk to him,” he spoke softly, handing the younger twin over into your arms.

“Hey,” Bakugou said softly, leaning down to peer inside the car where his eldest son stubbornly sat with his arms crossed. “It’s okay to be scared to go to nursery, you know.”

Your oldest son visibly flinched and avoided looking at Bakugou in the eyes.

“I’m not scared, daddy. I just don’t want to.”

“Uh huh,” Bakugou said, eyebrow raised.

“I’m not!” Your son exploded. When he realised that he’d just shouted at his father, the colour drained from his face and his bottom lip started to quiver. Bakugou wordlessly held out his arms and his eldest son accepted the embrace just in time to burst into heavy tears on Bakugou’s shoulder.

“It’s alright,” Bakugou hushed. “I’m not angry at you.”

In your arms, your youngest son was watching his brother cry and letting out little whimpers into your neck. You rubbed his back soothingly and whispered that everything was going to okay.

Out of the corner of your eye, you realised another parent was staring judgementally at your family. Bakugou clearly also noticed because he bared his teeth as a warning and the parent quickly moved on. You scoffed at the idiot who thought it was a good idea to antagonise an omega who was looking after a distraught pup, let alone when said omega was a top ten hero.

“W-What if they don’t l-like me?” your eldest whimpered out.

“Here,” Bakugou wiped some of the tears away with his thumb. “How about this, you tell me if anyone is mean to you and I’ll sort it out, how does that sound?”

“But…” your son hesitated. “But what will you do?”

Bakugou grinned.

“I’ll make their parents regret doing such a shitty job at parenting.”

You gasped, halfway between scandalised and amused.

“Katsuki!” you reprimanded and smacked his lightly on the shoulder.

It did seem to cheer up your sons, though, who were now giggling at your antics.

“Daddy said a bad word,” your youngest twin giggled to you.

“He did,” you pressed your lips together. “And it was very naughty of him.”

Bakugou rolled his eyes and instead placed the pup in his arms on the floor, taking him by the hand. You did the same and slowly, you both made your way toward the school gate. The mood dropped, but neither of your children tried to resist.

You could see a teacher standing at the gate to escort the new students and you made your way over.

“Remember,” Bakugou said before you reached the gate, stopping you all for a moment. “We’ll be back in this many hours,” he held up three fingers. “Can you guys tell me how many this is?”

“One… two… three…” they both said together.

“That’s right! See? You guys are going to be the smartest ones in there,” Bakugou boasted, ruffling their hair.

“Careful,” you teased. “They’ll turn into you.”

“Are you saying I’m always the smartest person in the room?” Bakugou grinned back.

“No, I’m saying you always think you’re the smartest person in the room.”

“Oi!” he growled, knocking his shoulder with yours. The pups giggled again, seeming to be in higher spirits. You escorted them to the gate at the front of the playground and let the teacher introduce herself.

And with one final goodbye, your pups were off into the nursery and out of sight.

You and Bakugou walked to the car in silence, digesting what had happened and processing that your little ones were now old enough for nursery. You both slipped back into the car and began the drive home.

It was weird to think that your children were neither with you, nor at home waiting for you, but that kind of existential deep dive could wait until later.

Bakugou’s hand settled just a little bit too high on your thigh. For the moment, it was time to appreciate the novelty of an empty house.

 Jealously:

I don’t think anyone would be very surprised to find out that Bakugou can get quite jealous on occasion.

In the early days of your relationship, he’s very nervous that his alpha is going to find a ‘better’ omega, an omega who is more traditional, and leave him for them. It takes a lot of bravery for him to leave himself vulnerable to being abandoned, and occasionally the insecurities seep through.

He hates the whiny, simpering omegas that plaster themselves onto the nearest alpha, and it makes him furious to see anyone doing that to you.

He has no subtlety, no brooding angst, he just threatens the other omega(s) away to their face, and then drags you somewhere private to cover you in his scent.

Later in the relationship, things change. He’s extremely confident that his alpha is his. Why would they ever leave him? He’s the best fucking omega ever!

Instead, he gets jealous if he isn’t getting enough attention because you’re spending too much time with someone else.

He doesn’t do this in a possessive way, it’s just that he doesn’t get a whole lot of free time and when his alpha spends that free time with someone else? Another omega? He’s pissed.

He gets surly and passive aggressive about it, and it’s extremely obvious.

The best way to fix it is to just give him lots of attention, he won’t behave like this is you have to leave for something important (he understands duty like the best of them), so it’s very easy to address.

Bakugou idly stirred a pot of miso soup as the radio in the kitchen blasted out whatever awful top 40 song it had picked this morning. He had only put it on to fill the silence really, which was the only thing this awful excuse for music was good for in his opinion.

He was making breakfast for the two of you as a kind of mini celebration. He had two days off in a row, the first time in a couple of months because of his crazy work schedule and he wanted to make sure he spent every moment that he could with his alpha. And so, here he was, getting up early to prepare breakfast for your both.

There was a lull in noise as the radio switched between songs, and in the few moments of silence, Bakugou could hear shuffling coming from the bathroom. He grinned. Perfect timing.

He put down the last plate and waited for you to come out, you should be here any second now.

 Fiddling with your shirt one last time you swung open your bedroom door, bag on your shoulder, finally ready to leave. You were interrupted momentarily by a delicious scent in the air. Bakugou must be cooking, so you followed the smell to the kitchen and walked in to say goodbye to him, vaguely sad that you were going to be missing his food, but he was probably only making himself something to bring to work, anyway.

And then you saw the elaborate breakfast spread your heart stopped. Had you forgotten an anniversary? Bakugou looked just as shocked to see you dressed up and ready to leave. However, his shock soon melts into frustration.

“Why are you all dressed up?” he growled, the excitement that had been on his face when you walked in now gone. “You said you weren’t working today.”

“I’m not,” you said quietly, confused as to why he was so upset. “Izuku messaged me while I was getting dressed and invited me for brunch, I was just going to meet him.”

Bakugou’s face screwed up at your words. He went to open his mouth but then stopped. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He was doing the breathing exercises that his therapist taught him for when he was angry. What had you done to make him this upset?

The relaxing exercises clearly weren’t working for him because he stood up from the table and stalked out of the room suddenly, shutting himself in your bedroom. You winced as the door slammed shut behind him.

Oh dear… you had made your mate so upset that he had shut himself away in your bedroom. Your stomach twisted itself into a knot. It was time for some damage control (and a quick check of the calendar to makes sure you hadn’t actually forgotten an anniversary or something.)

You shot a quick text to Midoriya, apologising for cancelling and letting him know that something had come up. He sent back a ‘don’t worry!’ message and about six smiling emojis. Well, at least he wasn’t also mad at you.

Fishing out a tray from the cupboard above the sink, you stacked it up with as much food from the table as you could, thankful that it appeared to still be warm, and carried it to your bedroom door.

“Katsuki?” you called out, knocking on the door with your foot. “I’m coming in, is that okay?”

There was silence. Well, silence was better than swearing, so you carefully slid open the door and moved towards the brooding lump on the bed.

“The fuck do you want?” he growled. “I thought you were going out to eat with Deku?”

You froze at his vicious tone. Was he jealous? Well, that was a lot easier to solve than forgetting an anniversary, at least.  With a smile, you slid the tray onto the bedside table and climbed on the bed behind you mate, letting out a reassuring scent. You wrapped your arms around him, ignoring how he tensed in your embrace, and whispered into his ear.

“Why would I spend time with Midoriya when I could be spending time with you, hmm?” you whispered, purposefully blowing hot air onto his neck. You revelled in his full body shiver. “The only reason I accepted plans with Midoriya was because I thought you were going to work.” You pressed as close to him as you could and placed a single kiss right behind his ear. Bakugou melted at the affection.

“Come on now,” you continued, a coy smile on your face. “Let’s not let this delicious breakfast go to waste.”

You reached over and scooped a little bit of rice onto your fingers before holding it up to his lips. Bakugou opened his mouth with only a small grumble in complaint, and you made sure to push your fingers a little deeper inside than perhaps absolutely necessary.

“I promise I’ll make this morning’s misunderstanding up to you.”

Miscellaneous:

Bakugou’s scent is fairly sweet but still quite smoky.

When he’s upset/stressed, his scent is like burnt sugar, and when he’s very happy/excited, he smells like almost like a marshmallow roasting on a bonfire.

It’s a very pleasant scent but it does tend to divide people. Some love it, and others hate it.  Bakugou doesn’t care what anyone else thinks about his scent (except his alpha, but shh, that’s a secret!)

In his family, his father is an omega and his mother is an alpha and while they are happy together, Bakugou always promised himself that he would never end up in a relationship like that. He didn’t want some alpha bossing him around like his mother bossed around his father.

Bakugou finds meek alphas (and people) annoying, but he doesn’t like super aggressive alphas either. He’s attracted to people who exist in the middle of those extremes.

Bakugou knew he was an omega from birth, and it was something he was very insecure about for a long time. It was a big part of why he turned out the way he did as a child, he was making up for something that he viewed as a weakness by being as aggressive as possible.

His mother wasn’t great at making him feel secure in his secondary gender, assuming he would like certain things and pushing him in certain directions simply because he was an omega.

His father said that he was there if Bakugou had any questions, but he let Bakugou reach out to him instead of reaching out to Bakugou, and Bakugou was too proud to make the first move.

Bakugou ends up deciding that being an omega wasn’t going to stop him becoming the No. 1 hero. He decided that he could overcome being an omega.

It wasn’t until he was an adult that he actually started to accept being an omega was a part of him that he didn’t need to overcome, but that he could instead embrace and that it didn’t make him weak to do so.

When he does become a mainstream hero, he makes sure to always tell the omega children that he meets that they can do whatever they want and still be an omega.

N-sfw under the cut

Bakugou is a switch, mostly.

Oftentimes he switches multiple times in the same session, so his alpha needs to be quite the brat tamer to keep him from getting frustrated and trying to get on top so that he can control the pace.

He has a very high sex drive, and he likes to have a partner who can match him because he way prefers sex to masturbating.

It would be hard to find someone whose chest and nipples are as sensitive as Bakugou’s, and when he’s in heat, he can definitely orgasm just from his chest being stimulated.

Bakugou is also definitely a squirter, something which he was very shocked and embarrassed to find out.

Bakugou generally prefers slightly rougher sex. He gets bored when the pace is too slow and definitely scratches and bites (and is happy to receive the same in return).

When he’s in heat, Bakugou is a bit different.

He’s not a pillow prince by any means, but he is definitely a lot more passive than he is normally.

He’s not super loud, but he definitely swears a lot, even between waves of heat when he gets grumpy that he’s too hot and sticky. That swearing is a lot less sexy though.

Bakugou’s sexual side doesn’t really come out outside of his own home. He doesn’t like flaunting anything in public and can even get uncomfortable talking about sex with his friends, especially when they tease him with personal questions. He’s definitely a private person when it comes to sex.

Although that is not to say he isn’t confident in the expression of his own sexuality, much to opposite is true. He is definitely the kind of person to order some new toy or outfit on the internet every month to surprise his alpha.

He’s sexy and he knows it, so why not?

[djcarnationsblog]

IBVS Headcanons

ISAAC HEADCANONS

> Isaac has a guilty pleasure for old and reggae music.

> He’s freakishly flexible, he just never actually showed anyone.

> This boy is absolutely weak to soft kinds of affection. Like, get this man a fan he’s steaming from all the ‘I love you’s and sweet words, he’s gonna DIE-.

> Isaac definitely prefers hot temperatures, and summer. He just likes hot things.

> There are many times in his childhood that his parents had to pull him away from the pet store cause he’d stop walking and keep admiring the snakes from the window. He just likes snakes.

> If in a relationship, I think his favorite kisses would be neck kisses. Just quick little pecks on the neck, doesn’t matter if he’s receiving or giving. Just. Neck kisses.

> Isaac had (And will never admit he still has) a fictional crush on Hajime from SDR2, he’ll take this one to the grave.

>*Bonus because yes* Isaac loves having long hair, and actually grows it out to be at his lower back in the future.

CHRIS HEADCANONS

> After the whole choir incident, Chris developed a desire to prove everyone wrong, and started actually taking singing seriously in his free times. Now it’s become one of his newest hobbies and obsessions.

> Chris literally barely ever thinks of a person as ugly, he just sees a lot of people and thinks ‘priddy people’. Some peeps would have probably guessed he was pan from how he expresses that opinion.

> Chris is an utter simp for Nevin. He needs some help studying? Nyoom on over and help him. Needs some support? Nyoom on over and support him. Ask him to sneak out of his house? Sneaky sneak on out of his house for him.

> Chris can actually dance, he’s just very awkward when dancing in front of others.

> This bitch is a himbo, just wants some love and wants to be loved.

> Actually, when in a relationship (*cough cough* withNevin *Cough cough*) he tends to say ‘I love you’ a lot. Because he never knows whether he says it enough, and wants to provide his partner with as much love as he can give and provide. At some point, it becomes a habit of his to say I love you to his partner, because it just feels right.

> Chris has indeed shown Nevin his fighting skills and techniques, unintentionally beat his friend effortlessly in a fight. I like to say he’s just one off from being a black belt, and nobody can stop me.

NEVIN HEADCANONS

> Nevin got into kickboxing in his last year of highschool, change my mind. He fucking kicks like Goddamn Chuuya from BSD, strong as shit, Jesus Christ-

> He doesn’t flaunt the fact that he’s gay, but man you wouldn’t be able to last a month being his friend before you eventually come to that conclusion. He is NOT that subtle when he sees a hot guy (*Cough fucking cough* BiasedbutChris *Cough fucking cough*) walkin’ down the street, it’s hilarious.

> Nevin can literally sleep ANYWHERE. On concrete, on the stairs, on the top of the couch, on top of the fridge, anywhere. He literally can and will.

> Despite not being religious, he will admit that some religious songs are fucking fire when done well. He’s even had impromptu karaoke sessions with Chris over it.

> In the future, I say Nevin gets all the chokers, spiked/belted boots, beanies and all the emo shit he wants and is basically incapable of giving a fuck about people’s opinions. He also dyes the underside of his hair cyan because he liked how it looked in his eyes.

> Nevin, when in a relationship, takes advantage of his height by constantly sitting in his lover’s lap, lookin’ all smug and shit. Which immediately backfires if the decide to shower him in kisses and affection.

> Literally, he acts like a cat sometimes. He wants love? he’ll get love. He doesn’t want love? Smack you away and be like ‘hell nah-’.

EDWARD HEADCANONS

> You can’t tell me this boy wouldn’t get an undercut when he’s older. He so totally would.

> He’d get a tattoo as well, something simple in an easily covering area, like the small of his back or something.

> Despite how ferocious he can be, Edward enjoys having soft heart-to-hearts with his lover, where they can sit down or relax anywhere, in either silence, or have deep and meaningful conversations, if only to occasionally get away from the craziness of life for a few hours.

> Loves getting kisses. Just. Loves them. Platonic? hell yeah. Romantic? Hell fucking yeah. Any kiss? Hell to the Goddamn motherfucking yeah.

> Edward’s like a dad to his gang, even when they get out of highschool, he still has his gang all throughout the rest of their lives. It’s wholesome, they’re like a family.

> He has non-sexual power bottom energy to me. You CAN NOT convince me otherwise, I live for this stupid fucking hc.

> He can be very, very sassy too. Will literally pout all huffily, but then lay it down on you like you never stood a chance at living in his presence. Fuckin’ yes.

>*Bonus because I’m biased* He gets a ferret in the future. He names her Slinky. They’re too close for they’re on good.

BARRY HEADCANONS

> The first time Barry got an animal was actually because he has asthma and had very bad anxiety before he met Edward. It was a little support chihuahua that he treated very well. And it’s how he found his love of animals.

> In the future, Barry ends up running a pet store. All the animals love him to bits, especially because he takes in strays, cleans them up until they’re healthy and then just keeps them healthy in his pet store, whether or not he puts them up to be adopted really depends.

> Best boyfriend material right here. Knows how to communicate and when it’s necessary, tries his best to treat his partner well while also respecting both of their boundaries, and makes sure any decisions relationship-wise were met with a good middle ground.

> He had stalkers a few times, Edward took care of those peeps quick though.

> Barry will give you forehead kisses. No matter if you’re his friend, boy/girlfriend, family. He will do it because he has absolutely no regards to the way society holds the act of kissing. He treats the idea how he wants to, nobody can say shit. (He’s very much kissed Edward on the forehead at least once a day).

> Barry’s a very physically and verbally affectionate person, but he wasn’t like this at first. He was actually really, really quiet before he met Edward, who got him out of his shell and helped him become who he is today.

> Barry has a very guilty pleasure for just listening to reddit story compilations on YouTube like damn Podcast. He just really likes how ridiculous the stories on there are, and religiously checks yt for any new videos.

>*Bonus cause yeah* Barry is the know-it-all canonically. But I like to think this is because he just likes knowing things, he loves to have knowledge and now anything he can. Whether because it’s some neat info, or because blackmail, or anything really, he wants it, he’s got it.

DREW HEADCANONS

> Drew very much has the same thing with sleeping anywhere as Nevin. They’ll literally just be snuggling in what seems like the most uncomfortable position, but it really isn’t for them.

> Unsurprisingly, acts of service is definitely his love language. He likes to do his partner some good, and help out whenever he can.

> DESPITE, being a ray of sunshine, this boy is actually a goddamn gremlin. He’s a sneaky little devil and will make things happen in the shadows just for shits and giggles. Nobody knows it was him.

> He’s got the presence of a fucking ant, like in canon. But he just uses it to his advantage to eavesdrop on things that catch his interest. He’s got almost as much blackmail as Barry.

> Drew’s a jewelry person. Bracelets, necklaces, rings, he likes ‘em.

> With a partner, Drew has an affinity for giving them nicknames. Like how I like to think he calls Isaac a munchkin, even if he’s taller than Drew by an inch or two. Just. Munchkin, munch, munchy baby. It’s adorable but very flustering.

> He can and will tease. He’s a big tease, despite looking so innocent. So much gremlin energy I put into this boy, it’s unbelievable.

[hp-hcs]

Harry Potter and the Amount of Abuse He Suffered at the Hands of His Guardians That Doesn’t Get Mentioned Nearly Enough (aka LET THE POOR BOY BE TRAUMATIZED)

tws: just an absolute shitload of ‘90s homophobia, graphic depictions of child abuse

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Aunt Marge let out a prim hm, smacking her lips loudly as she drained the rest of her brandy.

“Well, you mustn't blame yourself about how this one turned out, Vernon,” she said sweetly, patting her brother’s arm to punctuate her point. “It all comes down to blood. Bad blood will out. What is it the boy's father did, Petunia?”

The thin woman looked up, startled, upon hearing her name. “Oh- nothing. H-he didn't- he didn’t work. He was, he was unemployed.”

Aunt Marge tsked. “And a drunk, too, no doubt?”

“A,” Aunt Petunia’s voice dropped to a low whisper. “…homosexual.”

Aunt Marge shook her head in scorn. “Freaks, the right lot of them. How did the boy’s mum find out?”

Aunt Petunia cleared her throat, fingers anxiously twisting the ring on her finger. “They separated. Amicably. Last I heard, his father ran off to London to elope with a man.”

“He’s still alive?” Aunt Marge tilted her head. “That really is quite surprising.”

Harry’s head shot up as he listened, enraptured in the conversation while he washed the dishes. This was the most he’d ever heard about either of his parents.

“Last I heard. Last I heard he was in…Islington, I believe. Granted, that was… hm, twelve years ago?”

Uncle Vernon nodded.

Aunt Marge hummed as her brother poured her another glass of brandy. “Why leave the boy on your doorstep then?”

“His father and his…husband…tried to adopt him after Li- his mother’s death,” Aunt Petunia fumbled.

Harry dropped the glass he was washing.

He sent out a silent thanks to whatever had stopped the glass from shattering when it hit the bottom of the sink. The adults all turned to glare at him.

“Watch it, boy. Don’t listen in on other’s conversations, you hear me?” Uncle Vernon snapped.

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir,” Harry spoke quickly, keeping his head down and scrubbing furiously at the pan he was washing.

Uncle Vernon narrowed his eyes at Harry, but turned back to the conversation after a moment.

“Perhaps you should consider getting a cane at home for the boy,” Aunt Marge suggested, sniffing distasteful at Harry. “You know, homosexual behavior does tend to be genetic. Beat it out of him before it begins.”

Harry flushed, the tips of his ears burning as he saw red. “That’s a lie!”

“Excuse me?”

Uncle Vernon stood up slowly, walking towards Harry with a kind of suffocating authority. For a moment, everything in 4 Privet Drive was silent, except for the laser sound effects of Dudley’s handheld gaming console and the trickle of water from the kitchen faucet.

Smack!

Uncle Vernon backhanded Harry hard enough for his glasses to fly off his face as he fell to the floor.

He could feel blood dripping down his cheek—Uncle Vernon’s wedding ring, Harry thought numbly—as he scrambled to his feet, shoving his shattered glasses back onto his face.

He stormed out of the kitchen, Uncle Vernon hot on his trail. Stopping in the hallway, Harry violently tugged on the padlock on the outside of the little door underneath the stairs, grunting when it didn’t open.

“Get out of my house,” Uncle Vernon said in a low voice.

“Planning on it. Unlock my things.”

“I will not!”

(Harry then shrugged, opening the little window in the door and proclaiming “Accio wand!”, much to Uncle Vernon’s displeasure.)

“You can’t do magic outside of school,” Uncle Vernon sneered, red in the face.

“Yeah? Wanna bet?” Harry asked, pointing his wand at his uncle’s thick neck, then at the door. “Alohamora!”

“Out! Out of my house you freak!”

~~~

Harry stormed off down the rain-soaked sidewalk, dragging along his trunk. I’ll walk all the way to London myself, if I have to! He thought angrily.

Harry walks and walks and walks, stopping for a while before walking again. He’s deep in the suburbs now, where every house looks the same and any potentially distinguishable features seem to disappear entirely as the sun recedes further and further below the horizon. For the first time, Harry begins to doubt his ability to find his way to London.

I’m a Gryffindor, goddammit! Harry mentally scolds himself as a fresh wave of anger takes over. The urge to scream, to yell, to do something is so overwhelming that he kicks the first glass bottle he sees in the gutter. The brown bottle scrapes and rolls over the asphalt, spinning slowly to a stop before rolling back into the gutter. Harry sighs.

Sitting down on the curb, Harry starts to rethink his impulsive decision.

A quiet squeak pulls him out of his reverie. Glancing about, the empty playground he sits outside of does little more than creep him the fuck out. The swings creak and rock gently in the same light breeze that makes the rusty carousel slowly turn. Harry’s stomach drops.

Fucking dumbass. This is how literally every horror movie starts.

He stays still, quiet as a mouse, listening to the leaves trembling in the trees above. The sinking feeling of dread makes the hair on the back of his neck stand up. He rises to his feet slowly, drawing his wand. Something is very, very wrong.

That’s when he sees...it. Something big, menacing, and dark. Darker than the shadows that conceal it. Glittering, gleaming eyes blink back at him. Harry steps back. Afraid to look. Afraid not to.

He holds out his wand towards the thing, his hand trembling. Taking a step back, he trips over his forgotten trunk. Harry’s heart races as the monster creeps closer, closer, until a loud screeeeech! fills the night. A purple monstrosity stops violently between Harry and the thing.

The plaque above the windshield proudly proclaims what it is in shiny gold lettering: The Knight Bus.

The doors swing open, and a wiry young man pops out, hanging out of the side of the bus.

“Evening! Welcome to the Knight Bus. Emergency transport for the stranded witch or wizard. My name is Stan Shunpike, and I will be your conductor this evening,” Stan paused his rehearsed greeting for a minute, blinking down at Harry. “What’cha doin' down there?”

Harry blinked right back, slightly bewildered at the question as his heart remains pounding. “Fell over.”

“Well, what’cha fall over for?”

“I didn't do it on purpose.”

Stan frowns at Harry, narrowing his eyes suspiciously, before nodding slowly.

“Well, come on then. We haven’t got all night,” Stan says briskly, hoisting Harry's trunk off the sidewalk with a surprising amount of strength. Harry paused before boarding, peering into the shadows across the street—now empty, nothing more than just shadows—before climbing onto the Knight Bus.

~~~

Harry tumbled off the bus, legs shaking from the erratic ride, in the middle of Islington, London. Stan plonked down his trunk on the sidewalk, giving him a toothy grin and wishing him well before the Knight Bus shot off again, leaving Harry alone under a single streetlight.

Well, now what? Harry wondered, picking up the handle of his trunk. He really hadn’t thought that far ahead.

He glanced around aimlessly, unsure of which direction to go.

Fucking dumbass, I swear to Merlin-

“James?”

Harry startled at the sudden voice, glancing up at the lanky stranger who stared in open-mouthed surprise. The stranger slowly covered his mouth with his hand, and he appeared to be close to tears.

Leave it to Harry Fucking Potter to immediately run into a crazy person.

Harry stared pointedly down at the ground, going over every option in his mind of how to get out of there.

“H-Harry?”

He looked up again at the stranger, who was now much closer. When had that happened?

The stranger was fairly young, all things considered. Maybe thirty. Tall, slight, willowy in appearance, with dark curls and wide, expressive eyes.

He really had gotten quite close.

He wore rings on every finger, although a single, plain silver band stood out prominently on his left ring finger.

When had he started reaching his hand out?

The stranger touched his cheek gently. Harry flinched, hard. Whether from reflex alone, the oddity of the stranger, the pain from the forgotten cut on his cheek, or a combination of the three, he didn’t know.

“Oh! S-sorry, so sorry, dear. Do you…do you know who I am…?”

Why did the stranger sound almost…hopeful?

“No,” Harry said bluntly, hackles raised and on high alert.

“Ah,” the stranger frowned. “I’d thought you might’ve come to visit. Misplaced hope, I suppose. Why are you wandering the streets of London alone at night?”

The whirlwind of what the stranger said made Harry’s head spin. “I’m sorry, who are you?”

“Oh- I’ve forgotten to introduce myself! Regulus Black-Potter.”

Harry blinked. “What?”

The stranger, Regulus, gave him an awkward grin. “Um, surprise?”

ok so we all know and love jegulus raising harry but have you thought about the absolute angst that is jegulus taking in teenage harry after he runs away from the dursleys?

i might do it 👀

[robininthelabyrinth]

Beautifully Spent

aka Five Times Lan Qiren Left The Lan Sect Behind

- Chapter 3 -

“No classes for the remainder of the day today,” the teacher said, and everyone, most of them already long ago having started to drift off in the hazy afternoon, sending longing looks towards the windows, turned to look at him, surprised. Even Lan Wangji couldn’t help himself – not that he’d been looking away, of course.

(He’d been not-looking at Wei Wuxian.)

Their teacher smiled indulgently. “A special treat for today, in anticipation of the special treat you will all be receiving tomorrow.”

“A treat?” Nie Huaisang asked, sitting up straighter. “What treat?”

“The sect leader’s brother has returned for a visit –”

“Teacher Lan?” Jiang Cheng exclaimed, looking irrepressibly excited, and abruptly the entire room burst out into a flurry of speech. It was only that they had all met him or heard of him, in his years of wandering through the cultivation world – the teacher of whom it was said that he could teach anyone, turn even the most dissolute waste into a proper and upright gentleman, deserving of respect. It seemed as if everyone had an anecdote to share: some visit they’d heard of, some trick or talent, an opportunity to hear him play…

Lan Wangji maintained his composure through an effort of will. No matter how much he might want to leap to his feet and rush out the door, going to find his uncle at once, there would be no point: his uncle was a stickler for decorum, and he would first pay his respects to his brother, Lan Wangji’s father, and then to the memorial hall. Only in the evening would Lan Wangji have a chance to see him and speak to him, and even then there would be a limited amount of time before they all had to go to bed…

Lan Wangji found himself rising to his feet despite himself.

“Hey, hey, Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaimed, bouncing over to him and grabbing at him, tugging on his sleeves as if to get his attention. His hands felt hot as a brand, and Lan Wangji could only be relieved at the protective layers of clothing that separated them. He felt his ears go a bit hot regardless, undoubtedly affected by Wei Wuxian’s unnecessary spreading of warmth. “Teacher Lan, he’s your uncle, right? You must have met him lots of times – you must have the best stories – tell us some!”

Lan Wangji leveled his best glare at him. It was a good glare, one that the junior disciples found quite frightening and made guest disciples avoid him.

Well. Most guest disciples.

“Noisy,” he said, disapproving, but Wei Wuxian was undeterred.

“Teacher Lan says that I learn best through action,” he boasted. “Quiet contemplation is wasted on those with too much energy; it’s necessary to excise the energy first, and to channel it, and so for people like me, it’s best to confront things directly, to see things with my own eyes and confront me with puzzles to challenge me!”

That seemed like a remedy his uncle would have prescribed. Lan Wangji could imagine the slightly-amused, mostly-long-suffering his uncle’s eyes would have had when he had recited it, undoubtedly in the same monotone he always used which for some reason seemed to irritate other adults so much.

“It was amazing!” Wei Wuxian continued. “I got to go on night-hunts two years early, thanks to him!”

“He also said that you needed to be smacked on a regular basis lest you get too full of yourself,” Jiang Cheng interjected, and that also sounded very much like something Lan Wangji’s uncle might have said. “Also, remember when you called him a boring old stick in the mud?”

“Argh, Jiang Cheng! Don’t mention that, you’ll embarrass me in front of Lan Zhan –”

Lan Wangji belatedly realized that Wei Wuxian was still holding his arm and felt his ears go from slightly hot to very hot, feeling somewhat attacked even though he knew it wasn’t something Wei Wuxian was intentionally or maliciously doing towards him. He shook Wei Wuxian off and slipped out the door.

He had to talk to his uncle right away.

His uncle, he thought, would know how to fix his current malady: the one where he thought about Wei Wuxian all the time, whether during the day or at night. The way his temperature rose, his heartbeat accelerated, how he couldn’t control his emotions or maintain his discipline the way he should…

His uncle would fix everything.

It wouldn’t be the first time he’d done it. He’d gone wandering through the world long ago, well before Lan Wangji was born – before Lan Xichen was born, even before their father ever met their mother. He’d been barely older than Lan Wangji was now, in fact; it had been far earlier than it should have been, in the normal course of things. There had been some dispute, though whether it was with Lan Wangji’s father or grandfather remained unknown; indeed, Lan Wangji didn’t know anything about it at all, only that his uncle had left without looking back.

He’d first been a traveling musician, but eventually he had developed a reputation as a teacher. It was said that at some point when he was staying as a guest in some small sect or another, he’d run into some disastrous good-for-nothing of a person, useless and bitter with it, and somehow managed to figure out how to help them cultivate properly – or was the first one he’d helped a beastly hellion who wouldn’t learn anything, and he’d taught them both their letters and how to study, turning them into a scholar?

It didn’t really matter which had come first. In the end, he’d gotten a reputation for himself as a valuable teacher in the same vein as some legendary marvel of an itinerant doctor, the sort that could only be hoped for but not invited, and a bit of an adventurer besides – it was said that he’d saved Lao Nie’s life through some unspecified circumstance, averted Cangse Sanren’s doomed fate through happenstance, helped repair Jiang Fengmian’s broken marriage, and was even rumored to have had a brief personal liaison with the terrifying Sect Leader Wen…

Not that Lan Wangji listened to such things, of course. Talking behind other people’s backs is forbidden…although naturally, as the head of the discipline hall, he had more reason than most to need to know about all the wildest things people were saying.

At any rate, it was all beside the point. Lan Wangji’s uncle had gone out, made a reputation for himself, and then, just when he might have been tempted away for good somewhere else, had come home and won back his place in the Lan sect from his brother. Indeed, Lan Wangji’s father had reason to thank him more than most – it had been upon hearing what had happened with Lan Wangji’s mother, all those years ago when his parents had first gotten married, that Lan Wangji’s uncle had returned. Perhaps it was his years out on the road that had given him the strength and boldness to reject the solution the elders had devised, to castigate them all viciously and demand a better result – it wasn’t really clear.

What was clear, though, was that no one knew the Lan sect rules better than Uncle Qiren, and he’d developed a temper at some point during his travels outside; he’d attacked the whole arrangement from start to end, insisting that they come up with some other way to balance love and justice, protection of the person and protection of the sect’s face. Lan Wangji’s mother to this day swore that if she’d actually been locked up in a little house for the rest of her life, she’d have been long ago died of sheer boredom.  

Of course, now that she was a little older, she tended to stay at her Gentian House most of the day regardless, disdaining the outdoors. But her home there was a place with windows open and people coming and going at all hours – it was a place of joy and happiness, laughter and light. Lan Wangji’s father tended to go there when he was starting to revert back to how he’d been before, those not-so-good days when Lan Wangji was young, and he always vastly improved after getting a tongue-lashing or two.

Lan Wangji wasn’t sure how many of the stories about his uncle were true and how many were rampant exaggeration – his uncle claimed the latter, but his mother insisted on the former, and his father, who rarely spoke without careful contemplation, eventually opined that it was somewhere in the middle.

In fairness, Lan Wangji didn’t much care, either. He had long ago taken his uncle as his role model, trying to fashion himself to be just like him whether in righteousness or rule-abidingness or even in musical talent. He was sure, deep in the depths of his soul, that his uncle could solve just about anything he put his mind to.

And yet he was sure, sure, that his uncle could never have encountered a problem like Wei Wuxian.

“Wei Wuxian?” his uncle said, blinking and rubbing his eyes – he’d stepped out of the memorial hall just now as a result of Lan Wangji’s urgency. “Oh, yes. I remember him. Bright boy. I thought you’d like him.”

Lan Wangji shook his head resolutely. How could he like someone like that?

Someone who made him feel…the way he did?

“Explain further.”

Lan Wangji did his best.

Irritatingly, about three-quarters of the way into his stumbling description, his uncle began to smile, his eyes curving just a little, and eventually to chuckle quietly.

Lan Wangji stopped, frowning – his uncle rarely smiled, and even more rarely laughed.

“No, no,” his uncle said. “Forgive me. It is a serious matter.”

Lan Wangji knew it!

“I will spend some time carefully observing Wei-gongzi,” his uncle continued, and Lan Wangji frowned again, suddenly anxious. “I promise, I will not let anything escape my gaze.”

Lan Wangji’s anxiety spiked even further: his uncle was quite strict regarding the rules in the Cloud Recesses, and Wei Wuxian had already broken so many – he would undoubtedly be found out, and punished. It was no more than Wei Wuxian deserved, really, and yet – at the same time….

He cleared his throat. “Uncle, are you sure that’s necessary?”

“Oh yes,” his uncle said. “I must make sure he’s acceptable if he’s to be my in-law, isn’t he?”

Lan Wangji stared.

“You’re my beloved nephew,” his uncle said. “Naturally I must make sure that anyone you like is up to standard –”

“Uncle!” Lan Wangji cried out, feeling deeply betrayed. Possibly by himself.

His uncle shook his head. “Forgive me, Wangji. I will stop. But that is the explanation for your symptoms. I have observed similar things many times.”

Lan Wangji sat down, distressed. It hadn’t even occurred to him, although knowing his parents as he did meant that he was very familiar with the notion that love was not necessarily an enjoyable feeling, and perhaps especially not when you were first afflicted by it. “But…what do I do about it?”

His uncle touched his shoulder lightly, offering comfort. “Having emotions is a good thing, Wangji; it connects you to the rest of the world,” he said. “Understanding them, and knowing what action to take, is a matter of experience, for logic is of limited use in interpreting the heart.”

Lan Wangji nodded. “You will help, then?”

“…I will do my best,” his uncle said. “I may need to consult on the matter from those that understand certain aspects of these sorts of things a little better than I. But I promise, you will not have to face it alone.”

Lan Wangji nodded yet again, deeply relieved.

They would figure it out.

They would fix it.

His uncle would help.

[guardianofrivendell]

Dwarves Always Knock Thrice

Requested: Yes and no. @estethell​ challenged me to write a modern AU with Fíli and Kíli knocking at the reader’s door instead of Bilbo’s by mistake. I interpreted it as a ‘what if Fíli and Kíli end up in modern day Europe?’

Warnings: none so far, I wrote this with a fem!reader (sorry! I try to write more gender neutral in the future, I promise)

Summary: What if one day your favorite fictional characters knock on your door? A modern AU with a twist! (any similarities to what I would do in this case are purely coincidental 😏)

A/N: Yes, yes, I know. There are hundreds of fics like this one. But none of them were written by me and my weird sense of humor 😆 Depending on the response I’ll turn this into a multichapter fic, if not this will stay a standalone oneshot. 

Humming a rather cheerful tune, you pressed the button on top of the coffee machine and your morning fuel started dripping into your favorite cup. You waited patiently until the foam reached the edge and then you turned the machine off. With the cup held between your hands, you inhaled deeply. Nothing like the smell of fresh coffee for a perfect start of the day.

A few minutes ago your boyfriend had left to go to work, only to see him again by the end of next week. He was going on a citytrip with your group of friends for a few days, which had been planned ages ago.  You were supposed to go with them, but unfortunately, you didn’t have any vacation days left. No, it was back to work for you instead. 

Not that you minded. You loved your job, and you were lucky enough to be able to work from home when you wanted to. It didn’t actually feel like work that way. At least you had decent coffee, you didn’t have to dress up and you could take a break whenever you wanted.  And now with your boyfriend gone for the week, you had no interruptions and lots of quiet evenings to look forward to. Cheers to that, you thought while you sipped at your coffee. 

The dinner table became your makeshift workplace, coffee within reach. There were no video meetings scheduled today so you were wearing your favorite pair of black leggings and a long oversized knitted sweater, with fluffy socks on your feet to complete your comfy outfit. 

You moved your computer mouse and your laptop sprung to life.  James, your Sphynx cat, hopped on the table and pushed his head in your hand, demanding cuddles.

“Another day at the office, how dreadful,” you smiled, petting him behind his ear. James purred and started to bathe himself. 

He was a Sphynx cat, so there was no fur. Nothing but flawless pink skin, soft to the touch. It almost felt like petting a warm peach. You chuckled at the comparison, and James stopped his grooming to look at you. 

“Oh, I’m sorry your Majesty. I’ll let you to it.” 

You booped his nose and got to work. 

After a day of sifting through emails, processing data and editing documents and spreadsheets, you felt utterly exhausted. A phrase your boyfriend likes to throw at you on these moments suddenly came to mind, ‘How can you be so tired when you’ve done nothing but sit down on your ass all day?’ Always the charmer.

You stood up, raised your arms above your head and stretched, groaning in the process. You froze when your stretch session was interrupted by three knocks on your front door. 

“Who still knocks these days?”

It was almost 6 pm, slowly turning dark outside and you’d let the shutters down about an hour ago. It was something you did as soon as the sun was setting. It was silly really, but it made you feel safe. 

But now it prevented you from seeing who was at your door.

The neighbours from down the street wouldn’t come by for a visit, they were the kind of people that liked to keep to themselves. Your parents would call first, so… a polite burglar perhaps?

You couldn’t be too careful these days, especially now, when you were alone, so you went to your intercom first to see who was at the door. 

The camera didn’t show anyone. You could see a part of your front yard, but that was it. Strange… You thought you could hear voices, so maybe there was someone at the door after all. Maybe someone had driven their car into the ditch. Wouldn’t be the first time. You lived in the countryside, with roads where only one car at a time could pass, with ditches on both sides. A challenge for city people, and the occasional daredevil usually had to be towed out of said ditch. 

What’s life without a little risk, you thought, and made your way to the front door. You weren’t the one to turn away from people in need. It would probably get yourself killed one day, you were too kind and gullible and people tended to take advantage of that. 

Another three knocks sounded, a little louder this time and you swung the door open. 

“Finally!”

Your boyfriend rushed inside and shot up the stairs. When you looked to your driveway, you saw his car with the lights on, the motor still running. He was running late again. As usual. 

After a few minutes he thundered down the stairs, his hiking boots in hand. 

“Almost forgot these,” he said while lifting them. He kissed your cheek and ran off.  You sighed. “See you next week, sweet. I’ll miss you.” 

Sarcasm was your way to cope, to learn how to deal with the lack of love and care. Because who were you kidding? He wouldn't miss you. 

You shuffled to your kitchen, in need of something hot. To drink, that is. And while the coffee machine filled your cup for the second time that day, you rubbed your face with your hands trying to think of how you had ended up in this situation in the first place… 

“Just try and enjoy a week by yourself,” you whispered. 

You were about to take a first sip when three knocks sounded for the third time.

“Seriously?”

When you opened the door, you couldn’t stop the massive eyeroll when you saw it was your boyfriend again. 

“Hand me the reservation papers of the hotel, will you? I forgot them and I need the address for the gps,” he said. 

“I sent it in an email to Tom, and I put the address in the gps system yesterday. Now go, you’re late enough as it is. Call me when you get there okay?”

He smiled and kissed your cheek again. 

“Bye! Enjoy your week by yourself!” “I will, don’t worry,” you smiled. 

Before you closed the door there was a bright white flash. You covered your ears on instinct, something you always did when there was a thunderstorm. 

“That was very closeby,” your boyfriend gasped. “They didn’t say anything about a thunderstorm tonight.” “I’m not sure that was lightning… there was no thunder?” “It’s probably nothing to worry about.”

And with those words your boyfriend left for the second time that night. 

After closing the front door with a small heart, you tried to calm yourself.  You were terrified of thunderstorms, and you really didn’t feel like going through one when you were on your own. Let’s just hope he was right and it was nothing, you thought. 

Your coffee…! Taking a sip from the now lukewarm drink, you pondered if you would make it into an Irish or Italian one. Heaven knows you deserved it, right?  With your coffee still in hand you made your way over to the liquor cabinet, only to be interrupted by yet another pair of knocks on the front door.

“I’m going to kill him,” you murmured while you walked into the hallway. “What could he have possibly forgotten this time?”

You swung the door open with a little too much force, but you couldn’t care less by that time. The small amount of patience you had left was already out of the window and you just wanted to enjoy your spiked coffee. 

“What did you forg-?!”

Your voice got caught in your throat when your eyes fell on your visitors. Visitors. As in plural. Definitely not your boyfriend.  You recognized them immediately, there was no doubt who they were but… it couldn’t be! This was simply impossible!

In your shock you forgot you were holding your cup of coffee and it slipped out of your hand. The cup completely shattered on the floor but you hardly noticed. 

Because right in front of you, in the light of your porch light at your very own doorstep, stood Fíli and Kíli. 

As in Fíli and Kíli, nephews to Thorin, King under the Mountain. As in Fíli and Kíli, characters from The Hobbit. Fictional characters. With a heavy emphasis on ‘fictional’. Made up by Tolkien. 

So how the hell was it possible that they were standing in front of you, alive and well?

The two Durin brothers were a bit taken aback so it seemed, because they too remained silent at first. After a few awkward seconds Kíli was the one who decided to speak up instead of his older brother. He was clutching his sword and quiver, just like he did in the movie. 

“Kíli,” he began. He was side eyeing his brother who was still staring at you, and smacked Fíli’s chest when he didn’t respond.  “What?”  “Kíli,” Kíli repeated, pointing at himself and then at his brother who finally caught on. “And Fíli.” “At your service,” they both continued, bowing deeply.

“Y/N, at yours,” you responded without a second thought.  Kíli’s face split into a wide smile.

“We’re looking for master Boggins!” “Yeah, I kind of expected you to say that,” you murmured, but they heard you. “Oh, so you’re a seer?” Kíli assumed excitedly. “No! No, I’m just… me. But there is no mister Baggins here,” you said, correcting Kíli. “Are we at the wrong house?” Fíli wondered.   “I’m afraid so.” “Well… can you help us find him?” Kíli looked at you expectantly.

You sighed. “I would but, I’m afraid it’s a little more complicated than that.”

Both of their faces fell. They were so in character, if someone was pranking you, they did one hell of a job in finding these two actors. And their costumes were spot on, from the carvings on Kíli’s bow to the colour of Fíli’s fur coat. It was scaringly accurate… They looked so much like Dean and Aidan’s version, but not quite. You didn’t know why exactly, but you had the feeling they were real. They were Fíli and Kíli, sons of Dís. 

Fíli stared at you with a confused expression. “What do you mean, my lady?”

Oh. Now, if you weren’t already a little enamored by their looks, the title he just gave you would have. You weren’t exactly used to endearments. 

Not that Fíli had meant as an endearment but you wouldn’t mind if they called you my lady for the rest of your life. It just made you grow a couple of inches. 

“I’m probably going to regret this, but… come in.”  You stepped aside so they could enter the hallway. 

The heavy boots they were wearing made scratching sounds on your tile floor and your mind immediately went to your delicate wooden floors in the rest of your house. 

You were going to sound extremely bossy and uptight but you had to think of your interior. 

“Could you both maybe take off your boots?”

The two brothers looked at each other and shrugged their shoulders. 

“If you want?” Fíli asked you. 

“Please.”

You took the swords and quiver from Kíli so he had his hands free and placed them in a corner of your hallway. Fíli followed your example and added his own weapons to the pile. 

“I trust you not to attack us when we’re unarmed,” he winked at you. 

You smiled back at him, knowing all too well he still had some smaller knives hidden somewhere.  For a moment the thought of reenacting the knife scene in Mirkwood crossed your mind, but you thought better of it. He wouldn’t find it as funny as you thought it was and you’d probably lose a finger or two if you tried to take a knife from him. It was best not to challenge him. Yet. 

Once their boots were placed neatly next to their weapons, you motioned them to follow you into your living room. Your eyes drifted to the shards of your coffee mug and the spilled coffee, you needed to clean it up but it simply had to wait.

“I don’t really know how to begin explaining all this,” you said, while waving your arms around you, “but it might be a good idea if we sit down?”

You gestured towards the sitting area and both brothers took a seat on your couch.

It seemed like they didn’t know where to look first.  Their eyes wandered to your tv, surround system, laptop, aquarium, … 

Kíli whispered something in Fíli’s ear, to which the older brother shrugged his shoulders.

“Do you want to drink anything?” you suggested. “I have water, milk, beer, …”

Their eyes lit up when you mentioned the beer, so you nodded your head. 

“Beer it is, although I need to warn you. It’s Belgian beer, so it’s probably a lot stronger than what you guys are used to.”

You mentally facepalmed at your last sentence, why did you even mention that? They didn’t realize they were in a different universe, so mentioning your country would give them zero information. 

“I think we can handle it just fine,” Kíli commented with a smirk. Fíli nodded in agreement.  “Okay, but don’t say I didn’t warn you!”

After another look at the dwarves on your couch, you disappeared into your kitchen. You fetched two beer glasses out of the dishwasher and two bottles of beer from your fridge, before you noticed how much your hands were shaking.

Okay, Y/N, you need to calm down first… Easy to say when you have two dwarves sitting in your living room. Dwarves! And your favorite dwarves too.  How many times had you imagined this exact moment in your fantasies? In your dreams? 

Of course! That was it…!  You probably fell asleep at your laptop and you were dreaming.  But then why did it feel so real?

Maybe someone was pranking you after all? Nah, that wasn’t likely. Nobody knew you were even in the Tolkien fandom. Let alone who your favorite characters were. 

So it must be a dream... But if you were dreaming, they definitely would have been an exact copy of the movie Fíli and Kíli. As in, Dean and Aidan in costumes. The ones sitting on your couch looked slightly different, still handsome - Mahal, did they look handsome - but you would probably refer to them as discount Dean and Aidan. 

Your small mental breakdown was interrupted when Kili started to scream. 

“What is that?!”

Quickly snatching the bottles and glasses in both of your hands, you hurried back to the Durin princes. 

When you entered your living room, you were met with quite the hilarious view. Tolkien had described Fíli and Kíli as fearless and courageous, but there was nothing courageous about their behaviour right now.Fíli was sitting with his legs pulled up and Kili half on Fili’s back, pointing at James who was trying to jump on Fili’s lap. 

“That’s James, my cat.”

“That’s a cat?!” Kíli yelled. “What did you do to him?”

“Nothing!” you laughed, placing the glasses and bottles on the coffee table. “He’s a sphynx cat, he’s supposed to look like that. They don’t have fur.”

You called James and he immediately ran to you, so you could pick him up. He rubbed his head against your chin and started purring, happy to get some attention. 

You crouched down before the two princes.

“Go ahead, pet him. You don’t have to be scared.” “We’re not scared,” Kíli protested, puffing out his chest.  You smirked and rolled your eyes. “Of course not.”

They were wary at first, but eventually both brothers were petting James. Before you could stop him, James jumped out of your arms on Fíli’s lap and curled up against the fur of his coat. 

Fíli froze and tried his best not to let it show that he wasn’t comfortable with this at all. Next to him, Kíli had the hardest time keeping a straight face, biting his lip in an attempt to stifle his chuckles but his shoulders were already shaking with laughter. 

You poured their beer and placed it in front of them. 

“Like I said, it’s pretty strong so small sips. Do you want me to take James away?” Fíli shook his head. “I-it’s fine!”

You took a seat on your other couch and anxiously started to rub your thighs. 

“So… like I said, I don’t really know how to explain this but I think I know what happened to you.” “Wait… did something happen to us? I don’t understand?” Kíli asked, raising his eyebrows in confusion.

Oh, right. They didn’t realise they were in a different universe right now. Maybe you should take a different approach. 

“Can you tell me what happened before you knocked on my door?”

Kíli took the two glasses and gave one to his brother before he took a gulp, humming appreciatively. 

“I like this,” he said. “And to answer your question, we traveled to the Shire and knocked on the door with the mark. And here we are!” “But… my door doesn’t have a mark?”

It was Fíli’s turn to roll his eyes. “Kee, you’re not telling the whole story. But you’re right about this,” he smiled while raising his glass, taking another sip. “This is good stuff.”

You chuckled when you saw some foam sticking to his mustache.  He raised an eyebrow at you. “What’s so funny?”

“I have enough beer in the fridge, you don’t have to save some for later,” you laughed, pointing at your own lip to get the message across. 

Fíli quickly wiped his mouth with the back of his sleeve. The movement made James shift in his lap and the Dwarf went rigid again.  You decided not to say anything about it, you figured maybe Fili didn’t like cats that much. Or just James. 

“So what did Kíli leave out?” “Your door wasn’t the first one we knocked on. There was a round, green door in the Shire. And that one had the mark of Gandalf. He’s a wizard.”

You nodded. So far it went exactly like it should. Shire, green door, mark. 

“But when we knocked on it, we found ourselves in a field all of a sudden. And your house was the only one around so we figured that was where we were supposed to be. Since Gandalf is a wizard, you never know what to expect.”

Okay, that was different. It almost sounded as if they went through a portal of some sort. Like a portkey? They touched the portkey and traveled to a different universe? But portkeys weren’t part of Middle Earth, that was Harry Potter. Did they have something similar?

“You’re not in Middle Earth anymore,” you said softly. 

Both brothers stared at you with wide eyes, their beer long forgotten. Kíli looked at his older brother, and pulled at his sleeve.

“What does she mean by that?”

Fíli kept his eyes fixed on your face, searching your features to see if you were lying. If you were trying to prank them. 

“It means that you traveled between different worlds. In my world, where you’re in right now, Middle Earth is fictional. A story. It doesn't exist. Just like my world doesn’t exist where you’re from.” “I don’t believe you,” Kíli said with a frown. 

You had expected this. It’s not like you would’ve believed them if you were in their place. 

“Look around,” you tried to explain, “you can see things you recognize. The furniture, me being a human, … But you can also see things that you don’t understand. They are from this world.”

“You said Middle Earth was a story to you?” Fíli asked you.  “Yes. There are tales about Middle Earth, and Elves, Dwarves, Hobbits, the race of Men, … Orcs, wargs, goblins,” you explained, careful not to mention anything about their storyline or the one with the One Ring. “But I’ve never thought it could be real.”

They stayed silent for a few moments, letting it all sink in. 

“How… How do we get back to Middle Earth?” Fili wondered.  “I’m sorry, I really don’t know. But I’m going to help you find your way back. We’ll figure something out.” 

You played with your fingers, a telltale sign you were nervous.

“And in the meantime you can stay here... With me.”

A/N: There you go... This is the setup for a possible new multichapter fic if people are interested in it.   Just think of the two brothers in a modern day kitchen and bathroom, how the reader tries to cope with her fictional crush in her home and... how will they get back to Middle Earth? Would you be interested to read that? Let me know!  And of course let me know what you thought of this story :) 

A/N part 2: Sometimes tumblr switches paragraphs for no reason at all, if you notice this happened, send me a message! I’ll try and keep an eye on it myself, but some help is always appreciated.

Permanent taglist: @roosliefje​ @kata1803​ @artsywaterlily​ @entishramblings​ @sleepy-daydream-in-a-rose​ @marvelschriss​ @kumqu4t​ @myrin1234​ @dark-angel-is-back​ @the-fandoms-georgie​ @lathalea​ @xxbyimm​ @sokkasdarling​ @katethewriter​ @aredhel-of-gondolin​ @leethology​ @thepeanutcollective @elvish-sky​

Kíli taglist: @elles-writing​ @sxperncturalimpala67​

[thisisarcanereverie]

When in Love (Sam Wilson x Reader)

A/N: I love Sam Wilson period. 

ULTIMATE MASTERLIST 

REQUEST SOME PROMPTS

Summary: Bucky did indeed flirt with Sam’s sister again........and now they’re getting married. Sam brought you as his date to their big day. 

“It’s not too late to get Carlos,” Sam said as you straightened his tie, Sam could do it by himself but then he wouldn’t have an excuse to have you near him. 

“I’m pretty sure people would notice if the groom weren’t to make an appearance.” You said as you finished straightening his tie, letting your hands linger there for a while as you looked up into his dark eyes. 

“Don’t know unless we try.” Sam half heartedly said. He was only half joking, for the past few years he saw Sarah happier than she had been in years. He knew Bucky treated her well and that he loved the kids as well. Sam knew Bucky would never hurt them. 

Didn’t mean that Sam didn’t have Carlos on speed dial and an alibi set up just in case. 

(Y/n) lightly smacked her hand against Sam’s chest as he laughed. His warm dark eyes lit up as he looked at her. 

(Y/n) smiled and rolled her eyes. She had gotten ready before driving over and Sam couldn’t help but think of how beautiful she was in sky blue. 

Sam had been nervous when he asked (Y/n) to be his date to Sarah and Bucky’s wedding. He knew she wasn’t one for parties where she didn’t know anyone but she had surprised him by accepting. 

“We have a wedding to get to.” You drew him from his thoughts while grabbing your clutch on the bed and walking out the door to wait for him. You had no idea the effect on Sam, even the way your hips sway when you walked away drove him insane. 

Sam took a deep breath in to calm his nerves as he readied himself mentally. Sam was not only going to be one of Bucky’s groomsmen but also the one giving Sarah away. 

Their father was the one to give her away the first time she got married, and now since their father had passed Sam was the only one left for the job. 

Sam gathered his thoughts and headed out of the bedroom and down the stairs to see your figure waiting for him patiently at the bottom. 

You hear the stairs creak under his feet and look up. You had always thought he looked attractive, but put that man in a suit and your knees began growing weak. 

You barely managed to tear your eyes away from him for a second as he reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Ready?” you asked, trying to keep your voice even. 

“Ready.” 

---

The wedding had been beautiful, it was held at the church. The aisle and booths were decorated with white flowers and ribbons. 

On Bucky’s side there was Dora Milaje and T’Challa. Along with Thor, Brunheilda, and the Guardians. Rocket was mostly looking at Bucky’s metal arm though. 

The Ceremony had been just as beautiful, Sarah walked down the aisle in a beautiful white gown which made Bucky tear up with Sam. AJ and Cass were already by Bucky’s side, after all Bucky had named them his Best Men. 

While Sarah and Bucky said their vows Sam’s gaze couldn’t help but wonder to you. You were seated by Sarah’s side of the church along with almost everyone in town. You smiled and wiped a few tears as the vows got increasingly emotional. You had been seated near a glass stained window and all of its colors bathed you in it’s light. You just got more beautiful the longer he looked at you. 

Suddenly your eyes had met with his, and he felt his heart stop and breathing suddenly became difficult. It wasn’t unwelcomed though, in fact it was quite the opposite. Sam didn’t look away and neither did you. You both had stared at each other until Sam decided to be bold and wink and flash his intoxicating smile. You smiled bashfully before winking back and tearing your eyes from his to focus back to the stars of the day as Sam did the same thing. 

The reception was back at the house, Sam and a few other people from town helped set up the yard yesterday. Making an area for dancing, dining, food, socializing. Decorating it with magnolias and fairy lights and it looked stunning. 

The sun had almost begun to set by the time everyone got back to the house to enjoy the party. 

Bucky and Sarah did their first dance as husband and wife to an old 1940′s song and was later joined by AJ and Cass. Bucky had gone above and beyond to make sure the boys had been included in everything. 

After their dance ended, something faster paced began to play and almost everyone began to make their way to the dance floor. You and Sam being among them. Sam had twirled you around and danced with you until it was time for the toasts to begin. 

“I just want to thank everyone who came here today,” Bucky began to speak on the microphone, a beer in his hand. “I especially want to thank AJ and Cass for letting me into their lives, and my beautiful wife Sarah.” Bucky paused and gave her a wink, Sarah winked back and smiled. “I promise to uphold my vows and protect and love you and the boys with everything I have.” He raised his beer bottle in cheers before taking a quick swig out of it. 

AJ and Cass had performed their toast next, welcoming him into their family and just an overall sweet speech which ended with Bucky in tears for the second time that day. It made your heart swell to see Bucky so happy after all these years he had to endure alone and tortured. He deserved this, they all did. Sarah, Bucky, Cass, and Aj deserved to be happy together. 

A few other people gave speeches before Sam gave his. Even Rocket gave an impromptu speech. 

“Can I have that arm now?”

“No.”

“I’m getting that arm.” 

You saw a quick look of fear cross Bucky’s face as Rocket was approached by Dora Milaje and struggled to hold in a small laugh. 

Sam made his way up the stage to give his speech. He straightened his jacket before grabbing the microphone. 

“Sarah as your brother I am so proud of you and I know if Dad and Mom were here they would say the exact same thing. They would be proud of the woman and of the mother you have become.” Sam said with tears at the corners of his eyes at the mention of their parents, Sarah wiped her tears away as well. “Bucky as your friend I know Steve would be as proud and as happy for you as I am. Happy that you have finally found your peace and I welcome you to the family with open arms.” He raised his glass to Bucky who returned the favor. “Although I do recall telling you not to flirt with my sister,” laughter then ensued as Bucky chuckled and shook his head. “As Sarah’s brother,” Sam then motioned to Carlos sitting at one of the tables, “I want you to know that it’s not too late for me to get Carlos to feed you to the fish if necessary.” Carlos then waved and laughed at the groom who returned the favor. “treat her and the boys well and I guess we’re no longer co workers.” Laughter erupted as Sam took a drink in congratulations as did everyone else. 

---

As the party began to die down you had snuck out the pier to get some fresh air away from everyone. 

It wasn’t like you didn’t enjoy their company and didn’t get to meet some pretty interesting people. It was just you needed a moment to yourself to relax. You were an introvert at heart and so many people at once tended to overwhelm you sometimes. 

You watched as the water moved gracefully, breathing in time with it. The lights from the party reflected in the water and the music could still be heard although softer now. 

You didn’t even seem to notice a certain man making his way to you before you heard a silent ‘oh shit’. 

If Sam thought you had looked beautiful before, now you were angelic. The sun had long before set and now your figure was illuminated by the faint lights of the party and the moon. It gave you an almost ethereal glow as he noticed your hands fidgeting. A habit he noticed a long time ago, you always have to do something with your hands. He honestly found it cute. 

Sam had been so caught up in you that he hadn’t noticed a little loose board and nearly tripped over himself. 

Your hands stopped moving as you saw Sam holding onto the wooden railing of the pier for dear life. You laughed a little at Sam’s embarrassed expression as he tried to walk it off as though it didn’t happen. 

You looked back out to the water as Sam finally made his way to your side. Out of the side of your eye you caught a glimpse at the man beside you. The light of the party and the moon made him look romantic, and you noticed that at some point in the night Sam discarded his tie and jacket, rolled the sleeves up his forearms and unbuttoned a button or two on his shirt. He started fidgeting with the watch on his wrist as you both look at the water dancing. 

You could hear the upbeat music from the party change to another slow dance. 

“You wanna dance?” 

You turned and saw Sam with his hand out, ready to take your hand if you accepted. Which you did. 

Slowly you and Sam moved with the beat, the music was quiet and the lights had made the moment all the more romantic. 

Sam held your hand in one and his other hand went to your waist, pulling you flush against him making your heart beat out your chest. 

Neither of you said a word, Sam hummed in tune with the song as you smiled at him. 

Sam’s heart was beating out of his chest, usually he was smooth. Usually Sam had no trouble speaking to ladies, but it seemed as though you were the exception. 

A couple of seconds passed before Sam finally broke the silence. 

“Usually I can speak just fine in front of someone,” He started his deep voice quiet, “but now I can’t seem to speak without getting all tongue tied.”

You laughed a little at that, Sam loved your laugh. He couldn’t understand why but your laugh always seemed to put him in a better mood. 

“What’s so funny?” Sam asked with a smile on his face, you wondered if his smile would ever stop making your heart beat faster. 

“It’s just something my Mum used to tell me,” you explained, “what you just said reminded me of it.”

“Tell me.” He said his eyes focused on you, eyes reflecting the light from the reception. You looked down bashfully before meeting his eyes again. 

“When in love speech becomes meaningless.” 

Sam’s dark eyes stared into yours intensely as if you had become the only thing left in the world. 

For a moment you wonder if you had misread the signs, maybe you had scared him. Panic starts to fill you as you begin to apologize before his hands move from their places at your waist and hand to either side of your face and kiss you. 

The first thing you noticed was that Sam tasted of beer and spice. The next thing you noticed was how soft his lips were on yours and how gently he moved against you. 

You had been so lost in the kiss that you hadn’t noticed the music dying down and the lights going out, all there was, was you and him. 

You both pulled away reluctantly and watched as the moonlight reflected off the water. Content with not speaking another word and just holding each other in peace.

[house-md-obsession]

Shake [James Wilson x Reader] Part Three

153 hours prior.

The talking on the TV jolted her awake. Some rerun of a sitcom found itself playing on the television. Her eyes flit open as she gained awareness of her surroundings. She felt the warmth of the soft quilt James keeps on his couch, it offering the comfort of the late nights she'd spent over there. The smell comforted her— cedar wood... and... Chinese food?

She glances to her right, to see James slurping down lo mein, chopsticks sitting in his hands. When he realizes she's awake, he hastily sets the food down on the coffee table in front of him, and flashes her a smile.

  "Hey, ___. How are you feeling?" He asks, sitting up and readjusting his position. He leans forward a little, finding himself a little closer as she tiredly pushes herself upright. She wipes the sleep from her eyes, and feels her hair tie at the end of a long-fallen ponytail. Her hair was nothing short of a mess, but that was the last thing she'd worried about. She had long given up on how she looked once she had gone two nights without sleep.

  "Honestly? Foul." She muttered, her voice raspy. He struggled to keep for letting out a soft laugh. She tried running her fingers through her tangled hair, and found her fingers caught. She pouted.

  He felt his heart nearly skip a beat.

  "I bought some takeout. I snagged you some sweet and sour chicken if you get hungry. You don't have to eat but I figured I've seen you eat very little since this last case."

  He stood up and walked towards the kitchen.

  "Oh, and here's some Tylenol. You took some earlier but I can't imagine it's still working."

  She suddenly once again felt the headache that had creeped up on her earlier, as if the mention of Tylenol had served as a reminder.

  "Thank you." She said, hoarse voice finding itself softened as he walked back towards her. His soft brown hair was a little askew— small strands of his normally well kept hair hung in front of his softened, mature features. His cheekbones caught the light of the buildings that shone through his opened window. The sun was setting and the orange in which that faintly painted the room was welcomed as the brightness gradually softened and her eyes eased.

  "Yeah, of course." He said, in which she noticed he had grabbed a glass of water for her in the time he ventured over. He handed it to her, his gentle hands making sure her tired ones had a grasp on the glass before letting go, the mildest of touches graced her fingertips.

'His hands are warm.' She thinks to herself.

  He sits down on the couch next to her as she swallows the pills, downing half the glass as well. He laughs softly, no hesitation this time.

  "Should I look into purchasing you a water tower?" He jokes. She flashes him a smile and softly smacks his upper thigh.

  "What time is it?" She asks, and he flicks his watch up at him. She see finds herself for a split second studying his forearm, almost admiring its masculinity. 'Let's not be weird, ___.' She thinks, and her eyes avert.

  "Seven fifty-eight." He says, and she stretches before finding herself back where she was, their upper arms touching as she was just a little closer than before.

  "How long was I out? Time tends to blur together after the first day."

  He glances up at the ceiling for a moment, before turning his gaze to the TV that was on.

  "Hmmm, about four and a half hours I'd say. You passed out in the car, and it took a while to get you in. And you fought with me over offering you my bed."

  "Yeah, offering to let me crash in your bed is a little weird." She said, dryly.

  "Oh yes, God forbid I look out for one of my best friends that couldn't tell if something six inches from her face was within reach less than four hours ago." He almost upsettingly muttered, and relaxed once he glanced over and saw a small smile decorated upon her younger features. He watched for a moment as her eyes drifted closed, her seemingly lost in her own train of thought. He watched as her eyes opened once again and he quickly retrained his focus back onto the TV.

  "Thanks for taking me home and letting me stay here for a little while. I appreciate it, James." She said, her eyes trained on him again as he watches the TV. 'He seems to be so focused on the show. I wonder if he'd even notice if I left.'

  Her mention of his name had him trained on the way it left her lips. He doesn't know what, or why, but it failed to leave his mind.

  A click of the doorknob down the hall jolted her upwards.

  "Of course. I just hope you don't think you're going home yet." She turned around, to be greeted by the rugged features of her boss, as he made his way towards the two. The tap of his cane against the hardwood was a familiar noise that simultaneously relaxed her but kept her on edge.

  "Well, I have work at six in the morning. I should probably make my way home." She said, vaguely confused.

  "No you don't. Forced vacation. If you show up to the hospital for any reason for the next week other than to fawn at your old-man crush Doctor James Wilson, you're fired." He said, before walking towards them. She felt a hot flash radiate over body she became flustered with his words. 'He has a creative way of getting under my skin.' He motions for the two to part, as he plops down in between them. The words her boss spouted hardly even registered. It was just the generalized annoyance his presence brings in which she rolled her eyes.

  "Leave her alone. Someone in their twenties can be friends with someone in their forties. It's not a wild concept, House."

  "No. Only reason someone as attractive as her would befriend someone in their forties is because she's into old men. Someone to pay her debts from medical school because they've paid off their own."

  "House, seriously?" Wilson asked, dumbfounded. He could feel her shutting down from across the couch.

  "You're an ass." She says, and finds herself walking towards James room, in which she closes the door behind her.

  House glances over to his friend, whose lips have curled up into a smile.

  "You're good at that." Wilson says.

  "Annoying her so she will finally take care of herself for once? I've done it a time or two." House said to his friend.  "Besides. I need her. You may want her to be around but I actually need her. To save lives and stuff." House teased. Wilson scoffed.

  "Of course I like having her around. I mean, in the same regards I like having you around. I care about her, I'm going to want her to take care of herself."

  "Yeah, but you almost parent her. It's like a weird fatherly fetish."

  "This has nothing to do with our age difference of maybe ten years. She is twenty-nine. She is more than an adult and also, I do not parent her. I just want what is best for her. Same way I do that for you." James explained, but House wasn't biting that explanation, and neither was he.

  "Whatever. She's hot. You're like every other man and like to look without commitment. I'm sure if you asked she'd send you nudes so you can see more and stop pretending to care." House said. Wilson felt himself get frustrated with that comment.

  "I'm not like you, House. I can have real friendships, as well as ones with the opposite sex. So what if she's attractive? That doesn't matter to me. I mean yes, it's nice to... look. But for me not every relationship I foster is purely sexual." Wilson said, standing up, walking away from the couch.

  "Whatever helps you sleep at night!" House loudly called.

  "SHHHH! She's trying to sleep!"

147 hours prior.

  She awoke to the familiarly loud buzzing of her phone. Sitting up, she found her phone plugged in on the nightstand next to her. 'James must've plugged it in for me at some point while I was asleep.' She thought, and further noticed a glass of water once again on the nightstand as well as a bottle of Tylenol and a note.

  She glanced to see the caller identification was none other than her friend, Remy. She tiredly picked up the phone, and was greeted by the familiar voice.

  "Hey, how're you feeling?" Her soft voice asked through the phone. ___ sat upright, letting out a grunt as she did. Her body seemed to feel even heavier than when she was sleep deprived. ‘Waking up is going to be a bitch.’

“Tired. As fuck. I need to get up and around but I don’t know if I can muster the energy to. James bed is…. so comfy.”

“Well, good thing I’m right outside. We’re getting coffee.”

[mossy-covered-bones]

Stitches and Kisses

DP Shiptember 2021

Wednesday: Patching Each Other Up

Ship: Savant Par (Tucker/Danny)

TWs: injuries and blood/ectoplasm

AO3

*

Danny placed the cap back on the thermos, chest heaving as he slowly floated back to the ground.

The adrenaline of a fight started to drain away, and he was smacked with a wave of pain and fatigue. His shoulder ached, and the gash in his side that was oozing ectoplasm stung, and he felt like he was covered in bruises.

It had just been Skulker, but it was late and Danny had barely slept the night before, so he kept making stupid mistakes, dodging too slow or missing openings that could have ended the fight sooner.

He’d probably bleed out if he switched back to his human form right now—he was already starting to feel woozy from blood loss. Ectoplasm loss?

He couldn’t go back to Fenton Works in his ghost form, since his parents had the sensors running, so that ruled out going back there to sew himself up or grab his phone. Not that any stitches he’d do on his side would be anywhere near good, at the angles the wound was at. Sam was usually his go-to for sewing him up, since Tucker couldn’t handle the blood very well, but they were out of town for a college visit right now.

Danny sent a silent prayer to whatever god wanted to take pity on him that day and started making his way to Tucker’s.

He wasn’t that far away, but it took longer to get there than normal, given how tired Danny was and that he had to split his energy between flying and keeping himself invisible so nobody could follow him to his friend’s house.

Tuck was sitting at the computer in his room, perfectly visible from Danny’s place at the window. He looked up when Danny knocked, eyes lighting up when Danny popped back into visibility.

He hopped up from his desk to pull the window open. “Hey, stranger! What brings you to my humble abode?”

Danny giggled, leaning against the windowsill to keep himself from sinking to the ground. “Hey, Tuck. You busy?”

“Nah, what’s up?”

“I, uh… kinda need a patch job.”

Tucker’s smile turned stiff. “Right, right. Come on in, I can fix ya up. I’m not just a pretty face, y’know.” He turned to pull his medkit out from under the bed.

Danny drifted through the wall, letting his feet audibly thud against the carpet.

Tucker spread an old blanket stained with green and red over his bedding, patting the soft surface. “Sit, let's have a looksie.”

“Geez, Tuck. Buy me dinner before you try and get me into your bed,” Danny joked, all but collapsing onto the mattress. “Sew me up, doc.”

Tucker chuckled, taking a second to glance over his friend. Danny didn’t miss how Tucker blanched when he caught sight of the gash in Danny’s side.

“Okay, let’s get this jumpsuit off,” Tucker muttered, feeling for the zipper at the collar. He peeled the rubbery material off slowly, Danny helping as best he could.

Danny hissed in pain as Tucker started to clean up the wound, one hand holding Danny still as he moped up red-tinged ectoplasm.

“So what happened?”

“Skulker.” Danny took a shaky breath, staring up at the white popcorn ceiling. “He got some new toys, managed to distract me enough to get a swing in with a serrated blade.”

Tucker let out a low whistle. “Did he give up on your pelt or something?”

“I think he’s pissed everyone else keeps giving me scars, actually. Or he’s fed up with me always capturing him. I wasn’t exactly paying attention.” He was too busy trying to keep Skulker from killing him a second time.

Tucker nodded, withdrawing his hands from where they had been pressed against Danny’s stomach. “Yeah, dude’s way too fickle with his plans for your remains.”

“More like just a hypocrite.”

Tucker chuckled. “Definitely. Alright, I’m gonna start your stitches now. Try not to bleed through the Med Blanket this time, alright?”

“I’ll do my best.”

Danny’s hands gripped the blanket under him as Tucker started pulling the needle through his flesh, slowly sewing him back together.

He bit the inside of his cheek to keep from voicing his pain, eyes flitting about the room to find something else to concentrate on, something to distract from the pain.

They settled on Tucker’s face. Thick framed glasses perched on the end of his nose, eyes flicking back and forth as he worked, tongue occasionally darting out to run over his lips. He looked nervous—of course he looked nervous, Tucker still hated the sight of blood, even if he could tolerate it, and he hadn’t given Danny stitches anywhere near as often as Sam had—but his hands were steady as he guided the needle, movements slow and sure.

Danny took a second to take in his hands, brushing Danny’s abdominal muscles and the bottom of his ribs as Tucker worked. They were lightly calloused, from the tinkering Tucker did in his free time and the Fenton Works weapons he sometimes used.

Tucker paused just long enough to push his glasses back up his nose, glancing up at Danny. “Hey, how you holding up?”

Danny startled, realizing his eyes had wandered back to Tucker’s lips. He forced a wan grin. “Hurts, but I’ll live. Well, half live. How much do you have left?”

“Just a few more stitches, I’ll be done soon. PInky promise.”

Danny winced as the needle was once again jabbed into his skin. “Oh, good.”

His breath caught as Tucker leaned forward, hovering just a few inches above hin

Excuse his mind for jumping there, but Danny was only wearing half of his clothes, he was kind of lightheaded from pain and ectoplasm loss, and Tucker looked kinda hot when he was concentrating. Plus the inherent homoeroticism of tending to your friend’s wounds. Danny’s eyes wandered back to his friend’s lips of their own free will.

Maybe Danny just read too much fanfiction.

Tucker’s hands stilled against his stomach, lingering just a little too long for what Danny would consider to be appropriate for platonically patching your buddy. He leaned back with an exclamation of “All done!”

Danny was probably just reading too much into it. He shook his head, starting to push himself back up. “Thanks, Tuck, I should—“

A hand was at his shoulder—the one that had gotten hurt in his fight with Skulker—pushing him back down. “Dude, you looked a little woozy when you got here, and you keep spacing out. Just take it easy for a little bit.”

He fell back with little resistance, sighing dramatically. “If you insist.”

“Hey, I am on doctor duty today. That means my word is, like, legally binding,” Tucker said, packing up the medkit.

“Sure, whatever helps you sleep at night.”

Tucker laid down on the bed next to Danny. “Not having teenaged half-dead superheroes in my bed at nine pm would definitely help.”

“Wait, you’ve had other half-dead superheroes in your bed? Tucker, are you cheating on me?”

“Ah, you caught me, there’s another man. Though I wouldn’t worry about it, he’s nowhere near as handsome as you.”

They broke out in laughter, Tucker turning to stifle his giggles in his bedding while Danny tilted to the side to take the strain off his injury as his sides started to shake with mirth.

The sound trailed off into short chuckles, and Danny glanced over to Tucker, mouth open in the beginning of a reply that cut off when Danny saw his friend’s expression.

The corners of Tucker’s eyes were still creased from laughing, a fond smile on his lips. He was tilted onto his side, and Danny realized if he were just a few inches closer their noses would be brushing.

Danny could easily lean over and kiss him.

He felt his face flush at the thought, eyes once again finding their way to Tucker’s lips. He was breathless in a way that had nothing to do with the battle from twenty minutes ago.

Tucker just barely leaned forward, eyelids sinking half closed.

Despite the heat in his cheeks, Danny leaned forward to meet him.

The kiss was soft and slow and short, Tucker pulling back way too soon to shoot Danny a shit eating grin. “Hey, are we in a bromance now?”

Danny absolutely did not hit Tucker with a pillow for that comment, vehemently denying the barely hidden giggles, and he totally didn’t pull Tucker in for another, longer kiss.

[hibiscusangel15]

Rumors

Day 22 Prompt: there’s been talk about us

Summary: Rumors chased after Ichigo and Rukia their entire lives. People liked to gossip about their appearances. About their statuses. It was always the trivial matters that rubbed others the wrong way.

And then came the rumors about the nature of their relationship. For Day 22 of @ichirukimonth​ 2021.

Rating: Gen/K

*Also crossposted to AO3 and FFN!

If you like my fic, please consider buying me a coffee!

                                       We fear that which we cannot see.

“Hey, have you heard?”

“That Kurosaki kid—”

“Yes, that Kuchiki girl—”

“No way! A delinquent joining our class?”

“Of course that untalented recruit is a noble. It’s the Kuchiki influence. I thought so, too!”

Rumors chased after Ichigo and Rukia their entire lives. People liked to gossip about their appearances. About their statuses. It was always the trivial matters that rubbed others the wrong way.

And then came the rumors about the nature of their relationship. A bit surprising, to be sure, but not altogether unexpected, given how petty gossip hounds could be. Just another bored rumor passed along the mill that would eventually be forgotten and replaced with something new.

They both denied it as firmly as they could. It never satiated others’ nosy appetites for long.

All those rumors fell away when she was whisked back to Soul Society. They were the last thing on his mind when he and the others fought to rescue her. He’d forgotten about them completely until she and the other Shinigami showed up during the next semester, unannounced, and the rumors started up again.

It didn’t help that she was living with him now, either.

“What’s the deal with you and Rukia-chan anyway?” Isshin asked while helping his son with the dishes. The girls were having fun getting to know each other upstairs, so he figured he’d step in.

Ichigo threw him a peeved side-glance. “What do you mean? She already told you she has no money or relatives here to help her.”

“So you volunteered to take her in without a second thought, huh?”

“You expect me to let her fend for herself?” The defensive edge in his voice made Isshin pause.

He smiled as he took a dish from the rack to dry. “No, of course not. You’ve always been the type to stick your neck out for someone in need. Why do you think your mom and I named you Ichigo?”

Ichigo said nothing, just continued washing dishes. If one good thing could be said about his punk of a son, it was the fact that he never flaunted his inner strength.

“You’ve never really had many friends growing up. For the longest time, the only friend you had was Tatsuki-chan and then Chad. Everyone else was too scared to try and talk to you. So I’m glad you’re putting yourself out there this year and making a bunch of new friends, Ichigo.”

His son’s face softened.

“That being said, you never answered my question, my son.” Isshin’s eyes sparkled with a single-minded pursuit. “Could it be you don’t trust me enough to tell me the truth? Or is it that you're too shy?”

That all-too-familiar scowl returned to Ichigo’s face. “What the hell’re you talking about, Dad?”

“There you go, dodging the question again! I’m talking about Rukia-chan! Is she, y’know, your girlfriend?”

“My...girlfriend?” A dish slipped from Ichigo's grasp and shattered into pieces.

“Aw crap!” he swore, stooping to the floor. “Sorry, Dad!”

Before he could reach for the largest piece, Isshin gently pushed his son's hands away. “Let me handle this, Ichigo. I don’t want you hurting yourself. Go get the trash can.”

“Dad, it’s no trouble. I can get it.”

Isshin paused. “To be honest with you, son, my joints ain’t as spry as they used to be. I probably can’t get up right now even if I wanted to.”

“Oh, what? You’re such an old man,” Ichigo said as he pushed himself up.

At that moment, Isshin slipped a small pill into his mouth. Urahara’s gigai tech might have been impressive when he was first gifted the thing, but damn was it getting more and more unresponsive as he got older.

After Ichigo cleared the shards away, Isshin let his son finish washing the dishes. It was the easiest way to trap him there, at any rate.

“Anyway,” he began again, “what is Rukia-chan to you?”

His son hesitated, brown eyes darting around as if he could pull some bullshit excuse from the murky dishwater.

He covered it up with yet another scowl. “We’re just friends. Sorry to disappoint you and Yuzu.”

“Aw, c’mon, Ichigo! Your sister and I are just curious!”

“You guys are way too keen about my nonexistent love life. Why don’t you two get lives of your own?”

“You kids might not understand this since you’re so young, but when you become a parent, your life revolves around your kids! That means your life is my life, too!” Isshin clenched his fist. “So c’mon, Ichigo! Tell me everything! Don’t be shy!”

“I’m not being shy. Quit bugging me.”

“Oh?” Isshin’s eyes gleamed. “Only a truly shy man would be so cold! Come now, my son! Confess your deepest, darkest secrets to your father!”

As soon as he tried to embrace his son, all turned black as his face rammed right into Ichigo’s elbow.

                                                           * * *

The girls upstairs heard a loud crash and Ichigo’s infuriated cursing.

Karin frowned at the floor. “There they go again. God, it’s so exhausting living with them. Sorry, you’re just going to have to deal with them for the time being.”

Rukia slapped on an innocent smile. “Oh, I don’t mind! I think a lively household is kind of fun!”

Another crash thundered through the house as the two men continued brawling away. Karin sighed. “Fun, huh?”

“I just hope they remember to clean up after themselves! I’d hate to clean the kitchen again when I already did it last weekend!” Yuzu said.

Rukia had heard their muffled fighting before when she hid in Ichigo’s closet. To actually bear witness to the Kurosaki family’s antics was another matter entirely. Compared to the piercing silence of the Kuchiki household, this was a much more comforting change of pace.

“Now don’t take this the wrong way, Rukia-chan.” Yuzu fidgeted on her bed . “But…um….”

Karin tilted her head back with a loud sigh. “She wants to know if you and our stupid brother are dating.”

“Karin!” Yuzu shouted, scandalized.

“It’s what you wanted to ask her since she arrived, right?”

“Dating?” Rukia repeated. “No, we’re just friends!”

“Just friends, huh?” Karin muttered.

“Yes, of course.”

“So you say.”

“Karin!”

“I’m just saying it’d be way more interesting if all this was some elaborate ruse for Ichigo to introduce his girlfriend to the family is all.” She flopped back onto her bed, letting her legs swing freely over the edge.

“That certainly would be more interesting, I suppose,” Rukia conceded. “Unfortunately, that’s not true. No offense to your brother, but he’s too honest to think of doing something like that.”

The three paused when Ichigo’s booming sneeze echoed up to them from downstairs.

Karin smirked. “Friend, girlfriend. It’s all the same to me, I guess.” She pointed a finger at Rukia. “You and I might get along swimmingly once you drop that nice-girl act and be yourself, though.”

Rukia blinked. And here she thought her human girl schtick would work here, too.

The smile that crossed her lips was softer, more natural this time. “You and your brother have the same instincts, I see.”

“I’d say I’m better at reading people than he is. He’s a big dope.” Karin waved dismissively.

Yuzu’s warm smile grew. “Whether you’re just friends with Ichi-nii or something more, I’m still glad to have you in our home, Rukia-chan! It’s nice to have more girls in the house for once!”

Rukia dipped her head. “I’m grateful that you’re letting me stay here without questioning my motives. I hope I won’t be a burden to any of you.”

“If you can keep my brother and my dad in line, you’d be more of a help than a hindrance,” Karin said. ��Anyway, Yuzu tends to snore and fuss in her sleep, so I hope you can deal with that, too.”

Yuzu flushed and threw a pillow at her sister’s bed. “Karin! I don’t snore!”

Siblings showed the oddest resemblances to one another from time to time. Karin's teasing grin was so much like her brother's that it made Rukia smile in return. Ichigo then barged into the room and plunked himself on the edge of her bed to hang out with them. They all talked about their day and mocked each other in that special way only siblings could. It was warm and exasperatedly caring.

All those silly rumors that once passed around Karakura High about her and Ichigo dating would definitely escalate if anyone saw her living with him. It didn’t matter to her either way.

For once, she'd found a place where she didn’t have to worry about being judged. Rukia could dare to be happy. She dared to relax and laugh along with them. The Kurosaki family treated her like she belonged, and that was enough.

                                                               * * *

“Wait, they live together? Are you sure?”

“Of course! Kojima-san went to their house the other day to bring Kurosaki all the homework he missed, and he told me that Kuchiki-san was the one who answered the door! And she took it from him on his behalf! Like she was his girlfriend or something!”

“No way someone as pretty as her would be shacking up with a guy like that, right?”

“I don’t know. You remember how she climbed in through the third-story window and kicked him in the face and smacked him around? If anything, I feel sorry for Kurosaki.”

Now those rumors couldn’t be helped either. Rukia needed somewhere to stay, and like a little pest, she wormed her way into Ichigo's home and his everyday life. And with his month-long Vizard training going on, he wasn’t exactly around to put a stop to them.

The rumors really started to get out of hand once Ichigo, his friends, and all those weird kids who joined in the middle of the semester disappeared at the same time. No one knew where they went, or if they were even alive.

Some theorized that they had all dropped out to form a street gang. Others proposed the idea that Kurosaki and Kuchiki-san had eloped and invited all their friends to the wedding. All of which were extremely ridiculous, but who was to prove them wrong? Certainly not the subjects of the rumors themselves.

Oddly enough, both Asano and Kojima were the first to dismiss any rumors they heard. They seemed less enthusiastic about it, like their friend’s love life was no longer a fun puzzle to work out. They hung a lot more around Arisawa, who was equally morose and exhausted with it all.

Of course, this only fueled the wild rumors further. Perhaps they were bummed out that they weren’t included in whatever escapades Kurosaki and his other friends got involved with.

Then Kurosaki returned. Without any of those weird friends of his. Without that odd Kuchiki girl by his side. 

Kurosaki Ichigo became a recluse, even among those he once called friends.

Perhaps they’d broken up. Maybe she had to move away.

The mystique of their relationship died down pretty quickly after that.

It was not until May of their final year of high school did rumors about Kuchiki Rukia returning circulate around the school. Someone claimed to have seen her hanging around Karakura again. With how eagerly Kurosaki cancelled the rest of his sports team contracts to leave school earlier, it seemed more and more plausible.

Inoue Orihime’s own confirmation that the Kuchiki girl was indeed back only fueled the flames. Apparently, Kuchiki Rukia and all the new kids had to move far away all of a sudden. No, they weren’t all a weird family. No, she would not return to Karakura High.

As for the rumor covering Kuchiki Rukia and Kurosaki Ichigo’s relationship status, Inoue, Arisawa, and Kojima were all tight-lipped on the matter. Despite their best efforts, Asano Keigo was not all that great at keeping secrets, and it only took a bit of pressure for him to crack.

“No, they’re not dating! Can you believe that?” he’d screech at anyone who would listen. “I swear, I’ve tried so hard to hook them up, but nothing I do works! Tell me, what’s a guy gotta do to help his dumbass friend score, huh?”

                                                           * * *

Rukia was in the middle of writing up a report when Ichigo decided to show up for an impromptu visit. Admittedly, it was nice catching up with him, but it did wreck her entire work schedule for the day.

Well, perhaps wreck wasn’t the right word for it. She didn’t mind his company. She just normally finished up faster than this.

The odd look her brother threw her when she requested that they be left alone put her off. It did not help that she had flushed when Renji raised a tattooed eyebrow at her before he left, nor the fact that the servants hushed their giggles when Ichigo looked over his shoulder at them.

“Hey, is something going on around here?” he asked after catching the latest servant stifling a smile as she passed. “The servants have been whispering to each other all day.”

That’s because you decided to barge in so blatantly like you live here, you fool, she wanted to say.

Rukia shrugged affectedly. “People like to talk.”

About us, to be precise.

Ichigo scoffed. “People are always talking about me like I’m some kind of freak because of my hair. I’ve never cared all that much about gossip. It’s all bullshit anyway.”

She set her brush down on the inkstone. “I see. You too, huh?”

“Too?” he repeated, finally looking over at her.

“You heard Nii-sama explain why I was adopted into the Kuchiki clan, correct?” She took his silence as a yes. “The Kuchiki name is a prestigious one, but that notoriety does not come without its costs. The moment I was adopted, I was immediately placed in Squad Thirteen despite never having graduated from the Shinigami Academy. I was deemed a product of nepotism, and the other squad members hated me for it.”

Rukia shut her eyes. The memory of Kaien’s warmth flickered in the back of her mind. That would be a story for another day.

“It may seem ridiculous to you, how such a thing could hurt me.” Her smile did not reach her eyes.

He shook his head. “It’s not ridiculous, Rukia. What’s ridiculous is all the stuff people assumed about you. They don’t even know you.”

“No,” she said. “But even worthless rumors can start to take their toll once enough of them build up.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’m gonna change that.”

Her smile fell. “How so?”

“We’re friends,” Ichigo said without any hesitation whatsoever. “So anyone who talks shit about you gets the business end of my sword.”

“A little extreme, don’t you think?”

Ichigo snorted but said nothing else.

To alleviate the tension brewing around him, she teased, “And what rumors about yourself have you heard lately? I’ve heard quite a lot. I’ve even been asked to confirm a few, on occasion.”

“Yeah? Like what?”

Rukia turned the various rumors over in her mind, struggling to find the best way to spin it. A joke perhaps? Could he laugh off something like this?

No, Ichigo would probably get embarrassed and storm off to find the cretin who started these unsavory rumors in the first place. She would assume such talk was unbefitting of those who served in the Thirteen Court Guard Squads, but apparently she was mistaken.

“Nothing much. Petty gossip.” She continued writing her report as if such matters didn’t concern her at all. “About you and I, mostly. What we are to each other.”

Ichigo scowled. “Not this again.”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“It’s like people don’t have anything else to do with their lives. Stop trying to live vicariously through us already.”

Rukia paused. “Live vicariously?”

“Yeah, it’s like when people try to experience stuff through—”

“No, I know what it means. But what did you mean by that?”

The moment he met her eyes, she understood. There was a frantic, helpless gleam to them, but even so, he did not dare look away.

It was not a challenge, but more a question. It was a plea. His confession.

“Oh. I see.”

“Look, I wasn’t trying to…. I mean, it’s not…. This wasn’t the way that I wanted to….”

Ichigo put his head in his hands and took a deep breath. When he finally sat up straight again, he looked her right in the eye. “Rukia, do you want to go out with me?”

“Oh?” She leaned her head in a hand, the corner of her mouth tugging up. “Are you sure you want to prove those rumormongers right?”

He scowled. “This isn't about them! I told you, I don’t give a shit about what other people think. It wasn’t the rumors that made me like you.”

“What a bold thing to admit.” She covered her mouth in mock surprise.

“Ugh, shut up! It’s hard enough to say as it is.”

Rukia began to laugh. “You’re so strange, Ichigo. I like that about you, though.”

He tried and failed to hide how red his face had become. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not.” Her smile became more genuine then as she reached her hand out to his. “I am happy you asked. Although, I hope you know that it is uncouth of you to drop in on a woman unannounced. According to what I read about courting in the World of the Living, it is also customary to have a chaperone along with us on our dates.”

“Yeah, that’s been outdated for centuries now. What the hell kind of books are you even reading?” he scoffed.

“How rude! And here I was, excited to ask Nii-sama to accompany us for our first date!”

“What? Don’t bring Byakuya into this!”

Their silly bickering echoed all throughout the courtyard. Even still, they did not let go of the other's hand.

                                                             * * *

"Hey, have you heard?"

"That Substitute Shinigami and Lieutenant Kuchiki are dating?"

"Why is this news? Weren't they already a couple?"

"Ah, I see! So I was right all along."

Years and years of speculation, only to have the confession be far more mundane than they hoped.

The funny thing about rumors was, once they were confirmed, they lost their appeal extremely quickly.

Another rumor soon came to take its place.

"Kurosaki Ichigo is a noble? No way!"

"Sure, he looks a lot like Lieutenant Shiba, but isn't he just a human?"

"You sure he didn't just marry into the Kuchiki family?"

And so it goes. And so the rumors circled back once again.

                            If you can say that your heart doesn't change

                                               Then that is strength.

                                                                -

                                       No, nothing can change my world.

The only time a petty rumor is actually one hundred percent true lol. But I mean, it's not hard to disprove with the way they're always looking at each other.

I suppose this fic can kind of fit in the same AU as Home and Clearing Away the Rain. Maybe consider it a prequel of sorts, if you like!

Thanks for reading! Until next time!

[seokmingiggles]

powdered sugar.

@ofrosesandteacups​ requested on 201220: "Would you do a fluff Yoongi one shot where he goes home for the holidays with his girlfriend for the first time (but he's previously met her family when they've come for a short visit) and although he's nervous, he finds that since his girlfriend is the youngest of her family with a wide age gap between her and her siblings (like 8 years older) she gets babied by them/gets them to do things for her by being cute/whining which he's seen bits of in Seoul but she usually independent and tends to take care of him and the rest of the boys so he teases her for it? Also I really enjoyed 'Comfortable' and I'm excited for whatever else you create!"

Pairing: Min Yoongi x female reader

Genre: fluff, established relationship, holiday season.

1.85k words

Warnings: brief mentions of alcohol consumption, (dialogue heavy).

On the drive home from your parent's Christmas Eve dinner with the rest of your family, your boyfriend enjoys hearing you whine as he reminds you of the way you're coddled by your older siblings. Later on, he continues to pamper you when you return home. Alternatively, Yoongi wants to baby you every once in a while because you're just so darn cute.

A/N: Thank you for the request (and for all the support you've shown for me so far)! This one was a bit tricky for me to think about since I am the eldest of my family. I tried to put myself in my step-sister's shoes (who is younger than me by nine years) to come up with how the reader would feel being the youngest. I hope it turned out okay! I kind of made it turn into something else near the end (it felt like I was around 600 words for a long time, and then it suddenly became 1.8k). Please enjoy :)

•• "Wait, no, when Jun got hit when we opened the champagne! That was the highlight of dinner, I swear. My cousin is hilarious."

You laughed again just picturing your tall relative hiding in the corner of the kitchen behind your (much smaller) aunt, but still getting the cork to his head despite his efforts.

"Yeah, Junhui is something else, that's for sure," Yoongi grinned, keeping his eyes trained on the road ahead of him. One of his hands was on the steering wheel, while the other encased in yours. "Do you want to know my favourite part about seeing your family again?"

You glanced over at your boyfriend, interested in what his opinion was, "I bet it was the turkey my mom made. I know you love her cooking."

"Well, yes, that's a given," Yoongi silently thanked your mom again when he remembered the delicious care package she put together before you left, "but actually, I love seeing how different you act when you're surrounded by your siblings."

"I should have known." You rolled your eyes despite knowing he wouldn't see the action under the passing streetlights.

"It's true! I keep forgetting you're the youngest when it's just you and me. You always insist on taking care of me and asking how I'm doing, so it's funny to see your siblings pull that stuff on you when you're all together." Your boyfriend's face was illuminated crimson from the traffic light. He glanced at you, "You're the baby. The little, tiny baby-"

"Ah, stop it!" You smacked his hand situated on your lap.

"Be careful, (Y/N)-ie, that dish just came out of the oven!" Yoongi ignored your gentle warning and continued to tease, quoting what your siblings had said earlier, "Let me do it. You can go sit down at the table."

"Now you're just as bad as them, Yoon."

The light turned green.

"You just rile them up when you walk around all cute and pouty. I'm scared to open the champagne bottle. Can someone else do it for me, please?" Now he was quoting you.

"And I had the right to be scared of it! You saw how it hit Jun's forehead!" You still couldn't get over how the cork managed to find him. "Are you telling me that I'm not normally that cute around you?"

Yoongi scoffed, "You already know I think you're cute. It's just that you're so different around your family."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"No, not at all. But it catches me off guard. They're all so cautious about their youngest doing things on her own." Another stoplight. "But little do they know what a big girl their baby sister has become!"

He had the audacity to poke your cheek as he laughed; a cold sensation on your skin warmed from the champagne—you’d had both yours and Yoongi's portion as the boy knew he'd have to drive you both home afterwards.

"Yoongi," you dragged out, "please! I could be teasing you at how stiff you were when you first walked through the door tonight."

"That's not the same."

"Isn't it? It's nice to see you again, Mr. (L/N). I swear you corrected your posture as soon as my dad opened the door."

Now Yoongi was whining out a complaint.

"They like you already; my family has for a while. I don't know why you still act so proper around them."

"I'm only being a good son-in-law."

"Say that again after you propose, Min."

"Yes, ma'am."

You finally were met with silence, a nice change from your boyfriend's loving teasing. You leaned your head against the top of the passenger seat and watched the colourful lights pass by. The radio was quietly playing in the background; a Christmas hymn barely heard over the noisy car, crunching over the gravelled-down streets.

"Do you want me to propose?"

You almost missed Yoongi's words from your ears being tuned to the gentle orchestral arrangement playing from the speakers.

"Of course I do," you cooed. "I love you, so yes. Without a doubt, one day, when we both feel ready to take that step."

"You know we've been together for years now, (Y/N). It'll be our sixth in the spring. Maybe it was because I saw your siblings with their spouses tonight; it got me thinking about it all. Your eldest sister already has a daughter too." He paused, eyes still focussed on the snowy road, "It made me wonder if you'd want that too someday. With me."

You couldn't help the smile that formed across your face at picturing a lifetime with the boy next to you. You squeezed Yoongi's hand intertwined with your own.

"That sounds perfect, Yoongi. Any future with you sounds perfect."

The car finally reached its designated parking spot in front of your condominium unit. Yoongi put the vehicle in park and removed the keys, but you both remained in your seats with hands still laced together.

You turned your head to the side to see Yoongi already giving you a fond gaze.

"I love you," he whispered. Anything louder would seem deafening under the delicate snowflakes beginning to fall, instantly melting as they hit the glass of the car's windows. "Merry Christmas, (Y/N)."

"Merry Christmas, Yoongi. I love you too."

The two of you exited the car and collected the cards and small presents arranged in the backseat that your family so graciously handed to you after dinner. Of course, also not forgetting the leftovers your boyfriend was so enthusiastic about too.

You unlocked the door to your home as Yoongi had the assorted gifts held tightly to his chest with the oversized Tupperware of food in his hands, carrying it like some prized possession.

He walked over to the small decorated tree in your living room to add the few new additions of prettily wrapped boxes beneath the shrubbery after dropping the food in the fridge on his way. He plugged in the lights and admired the way the tree sparkled.

He found himself looking beneath the tree at one small box in particular. "Hey, could I give you a gift tonight, love?"

You were in the entryway hanging up your jackets and putting away your boots. Once finished, you made your way to see Yoongi sat on the floor next to the tree: his portrait glowing from the gleaming lights.

You smiled at the view; your boyfriend never failed to take your breath away. "I don't know, technically it's not Christmas yet."

"It will be in ten minutes."

"Hm, I suppose I can let it slide just this once."

You made your way closer to Yoongi, taking a seat in front of him on the carpet.

"Can you close your eyes for me?"

You obliged his request, but quipping, "Your idea of a gift that can't wait until tomorrow better not be a kiss, Min Yoongi."

You felt a soft peck on your lips.

"You know me too well, love."

But you also felt something small placed in your hands.

"You can open your eyes now."

As your eyes fluttered back open, revealed to you was a small box. It was no bigger than your palm; black velvet with a forest green ribbon decorating it, turning into a delicate bow resting on its top.

You looked back up at Yoongi, who only nodded his head to encourage you to open it.

Pulling at the ribbon, your breath hitched when you carefully opened the lid.

It was a necklace. In the shape of a heart, it looked even more golden from the warm-toned twinkling lights of the tree next to you.

"Yoongi, it's beautiful," you gasped, already removing it from its container.

"It's a locket," your boyfriend commented, taking it from your smaller hands so he could show you.

Upon opening it, you were met with two small photos on each half of the heart. The left side had a tiny family photo with you, your parents, and your siblings at your graduation a few years back, and the other side contained an old photo of you and Yoongi around the time you first started dating.

You almost felt like crying; the gesture was so thoughtful.

"Your mom found these photos buried away and gave a few to me. I know how much your family means to you, so that's why I chose this one," he pointed to the one with you grinning in your cap and gown and smushed in the middle of a hug by your siblings, "and I'm fairly certain that I also mean a lot to you, so I wanted to include a photo of us." Yoongi brushed his thumb against the right half of the heart housing your younger faces.

"This is the most thoughtful gift I've ever received, Yoongi." You released your grip on the velvet box and moved to embrace the boy, "I can't thank you enough. You're so wonderful to me."

"Merry Christmas, my love," Yoongi returned the hug, smiling into the top of your head. "Would you like my help to put it on?"

You reluctantly let go and sat in front of him once again. "I think you've spent too much time around my siblings, Yoon. You know you don't have to treat me like a baby the way they all do. I'm capable of doing things myself even if they say otherwise."

"I know you can, (Y/N), but you're my baby. I think there are different rules. Here, let me help you."

You sighed with a smile and shook your head at Yoongi's persistence, but turned around in your spot nonetheless. He carefully maneuvered the necklace around you, fiddling with the clasp until the sides hooked together properly.

You spent a little while longer in the gentle ambiance of the decorated tree and watched the dainty snowflakes fall from the sky. It was past midnight now; the world was quiet. Silenced by the powdered sugar fragments drifting down from the heavens and covering the earth in a blanket of icing white.

You fiddled with the chain around your neck, leaning back into Yoongi's warm chest, having moved from your spot on the floor and to the couch.

You felt him press a kiss onto the back of your head, his protective hold around you tightening ever so slightly. Maybe it was from the coziness being in Yoongi's arms, or possibly from the big dinner you had a few hours ago—you felt yourself beginning to drift off, not fighting the all-encompassing tranquillity.

It was only at the sound of your breathing becoming heavier when Yoongi realized the predicament he found himself in. He smiled, wanting to coo at how cute you looked asleep in his arms, but he chose not to wake you.

Instead, he planned on bugging you about it when you inevitably woke up, saying something about how his little baby didn't even make it to the bed because she was so tired.

Yes, like your siblings, you were his baby too. Until you had your own, and maybe even after then as well, you'd be his baby.

••

[achliegh]

Golden

Yeehaw Leo… it's all because this song came on one day (I don’t even really listen to country anymore so it really is fate). Leo is based off that song, each chapter is going to be based off a yeehaw song too.

Characters belong to @lumosinlove

Beta: @the-most-slytherin-hufflepuff & @punkkkkboi

TW/CW: Smut, terrible yeehaw sayings and jokes, injuries, mentions of past death/suicide, minor character death, underage drinking, mentions of past arrests, cringe

Chapter Songs (listening in order is recommended):

Chapter 16:

Hours after Noelle Landed in Montreal, Thomas and Clay landed in New Orleans. A few hours ago Clay’s parents dropped his truck off at the airport so he could take Thomas around the city to see his favorite places. They didn’t bring much just carry on backpacks, so walking out the door and feeling the heat was what they did next.

“It’s Winter!”

“It’s so warm, I missed it.” Clay sighs happily and grabs the little dangly adjustment strap to Thomas’ bag and starts leading him to where his parents said his truck was following the directions on his phone that his mom typed out. It stayed in daily parking so they didn’t have to go inside the parking garage. Thankfully. Thomas was expecting Clay’s truck to be just like his one in Gryffindor, large bright red and loud, but to his surprise they start walking over to a teal blue old truck. It must have been from the 70’s or something. Thomas stopped a couple feet back just taking in the scene.

Clay, glowing under the sun just in a shirt and jeans standing next to a light blue truck making this all seem like a picture on one of those tiny calendars with old cars on them. The concrete around them was a bit off but he didn’t mind.

“What? Something wrong?” Clay looks at him from the other side of the truck after finding his keys in his bag and tossing it into the bed of the truck. “You can toss your bag in the back if you want, there isn’t a ton of room in the front.”

“I was just looking at something pretty is all.” Thomas acts all nonchalant as he tosses his bag in the back next to Clay’s and climbs in the now unlocked vehicle. Clay gets in on the driver's side and gives him a confused look, turning his head in the direction of where Thomas was just looking.

“All I see are cars, was there a cool one I missed?” He looks back at Thomas only to find his boyfriend a good inch from his face. He feels his cheeks heating up and hopes Thomas can’t tell. “What?”

“I was staring at you, Stupid.” Clay feels his cheeks get even more red and glares at Thomas a bit. Thomas has definitely stuck to his words recently in telling Clay he is ‘Pretty’ and ‘Beautiful’ all the time but Clay still doesn’t know how to react. Recently it has been smacking Thomas upside the head… then usually smooching him but that's besides the point. He has grown up his whole life being criticized for how he looks, then suddenly girls were throwing themselves at him and calling him ‘Hot’ and ‘Sexy’ but never the things Thomas or Noelle says.

It makes him feel vulnerable when they say stuff like that.

“Shut up.” Clay gives him a quick kiss and goes to pull away but Thomas holds him by his shirt to deepen the kiss, Clay doesn’t even try to fight against it. He smiles and kisses him more sweetly before they actually pull away. “I’m hungry, let's go eat!” He smiles a bit as Thomas laughs and buckles up, pulling out of the parking lot he starts to drive further into the heart of the city. Thomas watches all the old and new buildings mix together to make a wonderful blend of modern and historical.

It was so amazing, beautiful and fun.

He notices the buildings are getting more off the ground and raises an eyebrow, he goes to ask Clay what the houses are doing on stilts but the NOLA Native beats him to the punch.

“They are for when it floods during storms. Like hurricanes and flash floods, we have a flood wall as well but they don’t always hold up.” Clay has put on his dark wire framed sunglasses, driving with one hand on the wheel and his other elbow resting on the open window seal of the car, wind blowing through his hair. Just looking so in his element. “We are headed towards the harbor because they have the best seafood boil restaurants. My favorite is Mama Junes but Leo’s is Olive and Otto’s. So we tend to fight about where we want to go.” Clay glances over to Thomas who is just soaking everything in. Looking relaxed and calm.

They pull into the small broken concrete parking lot and park right in front. There are old buildings lining the narrow sidewalk just feet away from the docks. The sidewalk was poorly taken care of but it added character. Clay hop out of the truck and wanders over to Thomas side and opens the door bowing to him.

“Your highness.” Then he trips him on the way out making him stumble causing Clay to laugh hard enough he has to lean against the truck so he doesn’t fall over. Thomas rolls his eyes smiling and closes the door. Looking out at the docks he notices all the people doing their jobs and wonders what it would be like to be on a massive ship. He is knocked out of his thoughts by being hit in the side of the head by a pen.

“Where did you even get a pen!?” Thomas picks up the pen from the ground and starts chasing Clay around the truck for a good few minutes before he finally catches him from behind and wraps his arms around his waist picking him up, swinging him around to the other side of him, both laughing uncontrollably. Thomas' stomach lets them know that it senses food is nearby by rumbling loudly.

“That was weird I could feel your stomach growling, we should go eat before the fishermen get off work for the night.” Clay turns around in Thomas arms and just looks over his face for a moment, running his fingertips over the side of his face. He loves Thomas…

He should tell him soon and Noelle, of course Noelle. She is everything, beautiful, smart, sarcastic, and treats him like a real person. Clay didn’t know if he was ever going to date another woman after Ashley, hell, he didn’t even know if he would ever get away from Ashley. But he never expected to get so lucky. He never in a million years ever expected to be loved like two people.

Well, he hopes they love him.

They pull away after just looking at each other for a solid thirty seconds before Clay leads Thomas down the street a bit to a restaurant that looks straight out of the 60’s. Thomas was picking up a theme of stuff Clay likes… the theme is old. Doesn’t help that he and Noelle are older than the southerner either. They get a table, order food, and people just keep coming up to the table to talk to Clay like old friends. Men, women, old and young everyone wanted to talk to him.

When their food does show up it is something called a ‘seafood boil’. Thomas has heard of it before but always thought it was boiled right in front of you, which it is not. It also shows up in a plastic bag for some reason. Clay teaches him how to crack crab properly, only ending in one thumb being cut open by the sharp shell. Whose thumb?

Clayton London Bruss’ and he was annoyed about it.

They finish up eating and paying, Clay gives the young waitress a 50% tip because he can and wants to. They head out the door full and happy, walking past a group of old women who are playing poker at one of the tables out front.

“Well if it isn’t Mr. Bruss himself! Long time no see, Sugar.” The woman the farthest away from Clay smiles at him and Thomas is worried this is going to go bad. “Looking mighty handsome there young man, be careful one of these days I’m gonna leave my husband for you.”

“Mrs. Bell! You can’t say stuff like that!” He laughs and walks over to give her a kiss on the cheek, giving Thomas time to take a good look at her. She was an older looking black woman who has definitely lived a full life, she was wearing a lot of blush and eyeshadow but her ruby red lipstick is what really stood out. Especially when she gave Clay a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m old, I can say what I want, within reason. Now tell me where you have been these last few months! We miss you and Leo on Fridays.”

“You here to stay for a while before you take off and get yourself hurt at those rodeos?” The woman across from Mrs. Bell spoke up, she was a white heavy set woman with a shirt that has two hurricanes on the boobs of her shirt that say ‘Lily’ and ‘Katrina’. He doesn’t know how to respond to that.

“I assure you Miss Lila, I am only here for a day or maybe two.”

“Who is this hunk that with you Clayton, I wouldn’t mind getting my hands on him.” Clay smiles brightly and walks back over to Thomas’ side. Ignoring the hungry stares pointed in Thomas' direction by all four women.

“Sorry but he is off limits.” All the women make a mock sound of disappointment. “He’s my boyfriend.” They are stunned for a moment before they all gasp in delight and congratulate them.

“You always knew how to pick them, I always thought Your friend Leo and you would end up together. But I am so happy for you.” Mrs. Bell smiles at them.

“Everyone always thought Leo and I would get together but honestly, he's not my type.” Clay winks at the ladies who all giggle as they walk past, saying goodbye to one another. The ladies pick up their game from where they left off. Thomas was still in shock. Those elderly ladies.. Congratulated them! He was not expecting that. He was expecting to be chased off with a purse or something. Then again, Clay does seem rather close to them.

“How do you know them?” Thomas looks at Clay who is saying hello to the people he knows that pass them on the way to the restaurant. He apparently knows everyone.

“Well, they have a poker tournament every Friday at Mama June’s so Leo and I would volunteer there for fun. Other people would work to get paid but we never needed the money, instead we were the two who would lose on purpose just to give the people their money. Most people who go to the tournaments are on the poorer side of town and we always tried to give back. So that's what we did. We would bet obscene amounts of money just to make sure people could pay their rent or bills or do whatever they do to relieve stress after a long week of working.” Thomas stopped walking, Clay didn’t notice for a few steps and then turned but to look. The sun was sinking down behind him and it made him glow. Thomas has known he has loved Clay for a while now but Noelle and him had a plan to tell Clay together. But at this very moment in time, his heart was so full of adoration he couldn’t help himself.

“I love you.”

Noelle watched, she watched the entire interaction her father had with Leo. She knew it wasn’t going to be good. She had listened to his insult Leo while she was in the kitchen with her mother and honestly it made her feel sick with anger. Leo was exactly what they wanted for Logan. Yet, they brush him off because of something stupid. She was pissed, helping her mother get ingredients out for dinner but decided she didn’t want to help. She was exhausted mentally and physically. So she decided to go take a nap, walking out of the kitchen and up the stairs to her childhood room.

The biggest bedroom in the house. It was painted seafoam green because that was her favorite color in secondary school, posters of her favorite bands and pictures of her friends all over the walls. Little origami birds made by her best friend hang from fishing line over her king sized bed with pristine crisp white matching bedspread, pillows and sheets. Her full length mirror was next to her large white desk with a lamp that cost forty dollars on it. Her bean bag chairs of varying sizes and colors on the corner next to her TV and PlayStation.

She never noticed how spoiled she was. But being in this room and then thinking about her sisters and Logan’s room, it made her ears ring with guilt. She started going to therapy after she got out of the house because she didn’t understand why she would just be consumed by guilt or sadness whenever she was around Logan. They never had a good relationship when they were younger fighting all the time, Noelle just saying really nasty things that she regrets and now they are pretty much each other's best friends. Her therapist told her that it was because her father was a narcissist and raised her to believe she was better than all her siblings but as she grew older she knew that it was wrong.

After that appointment she called Logan to apologize for everything over the phone, he was confused but still listened and let her get everything off her chest. Then he invited her and their sisters to family skate. There is where she met Thomas, she was uncomfortable around him for a while but she couldn’t understand why. Then it hit her.

Her father would speak poorly of any person of color any chance he got… and she believed him when he said all those terrible things. Things that should never be said. So she erased everything he ever said from her morals and continued to hang out with Thomas, when he asked her out it was a no brainer to say yes.

Her father wasn’t happy but it's not his life to live, she paced up and down her dorm on many nights when she should have been studying worrying about what her dad would say but in the end she understood that none of it mattered… By then she knew she was in love.

Months later she started going to the Godric University in Gryffindor to continue her masters degree she told her parents it was to keep an eye on Logan, she moved in with Thomas but never told her parents. Logan was ecstatic. She hadn’t seen him that happy in… well, when their dad told him he was proud of Logan for getting drafted and “doing something with his life”. It stung but Logan couldn’t stop smiling.

Then there was Clay. Stupid, Charming, Challenging, Beautiful Clay.

He waltzed into their lives like he was meant to. Stumbling once but never stopping. She wasn’t expecting to get a text from a random number saying “Hi, My name is Clayton and I have been talking to Thomas over the phone for a few months. He mentioned he had a girlfriend but I think we have started flirting and I wanted to let you know, because I know Thomas talks about you all the time and is madly in love with you. I just wanted to let you know that… I think I have caught feelings for him and if you would like me to stop talking to him I will.”

It scared her at first not answering the message for days, letting it hang over her like a storm cloud, Thomas had never mentioned an interest in the same sex before and she was worried she would lose him. So they talked about it, Thomas showed her the messages willingly and hadn’t noticed the flirting until she pointed it out. She started messaging Clay. They got on really well and before she knew it, he was all her and Thomas talked about.

They both realized they liked him, together.

Meeting him in person for the first time was intimidating because how do you balance a relationship already formed and stable, to a relationship with a new person at the same time? Would they get jealous? Would they fight? Would they end up splitting up?

But instead, Clay made them stronger, happier. They were happy before but sometimes it felt as though something was missing. Noelle didn’t really know or care about Polyamrous relationships until Logan started talking to her about how it feels to love two people.

“It hurts sometimes but it is also something I can’t live without. One being wild and free and the other grounded and calm, sometimes they switch or we all switch in dynamics but… I wouldn’t trade either of them for the world. It's the most I’ve ever loved and been loved in my life.” and she wanted that as well but never thought she could do it.

Then it happened, she felt like she was on the edge of a cliff ready to dive off at any minute but she was worried she would regret it. She eventually jumped, landing in the water below of safety and love, never looking back. She never would.

Her and Thomas told each other they loved one another on the same day at the same time. A day she would never forget. They were stuck in traffic arguing about something stupid, probably about schedules because that was their main issue always missing each other on the way out the door, they stopped for a moment. Noelle was still fuming but Thomas was calm, he was always calm, he put his hand on her leg and she looked at him. They held eye contact for a few seconds before they said at the same time.

“I love you.”

Clay was stunned. He stared at Thomas letting the words he just spoke sink in. He never expected to be told that by someone other than his parents, Leo, Reg and Eloise. His heart suddenly started aching and his throat became tight as he felt a drop of something on his cheek. Looking up to see if it was raining he only saw a clear blue sky beginning to tint purple. Then he felt a strong arm wrap around his waist and a hand cup his cheek, turning his head to meet those soft dark brown eyes.

“Is it raining?” Thomas smiled a bit at him and wiped his cheek.

“You’re crying. Are you okay?”

“You love me?” Thomas smiles so bright, so calm and so lovingly at him that it makes him feel like he is about to burst with emotions.

“Yes, I do.” Clay puts his hands over his own overworking heart and squeezes.

“Why?” Thomas is a bit taken back by this question, his expression changes a bit to concern for a moment. Wiping away another tear that has fallen.

“Because, you make me happy. You are caring, sweet, kind and…” Clay squeezes his eyes shut listening to Thomas list off things about himself that he couldn’t believe were true. “You are beautiful.” Clay lets out a strangled sound from his throat and turns to bury his face in Thomas’ chest hoping he could hide. “You are so so amazing Clayton, I just wish I could show you what I see, what Noelle sees too.” Oh god, they have talked about being in love with Clay and he didn’t even know! Noelle wasn’t with them but it felt as though she was everywhere. She was in the blue of the ocean, the sound of it hitting the shore. The beauty of the city just so alive yet caring. She was everywhere and not there at the same time.

“Noelle loves me too?”

“Yes, but don’t tell her I confessed for her. She will kill me.” This makes both of them chuckle. Clay pulls away enough to look Thomas in the eyes once more and he says back.

“I love you.”

Judy was waiting by the door, the food for dinner was in the oven staying warm, Garland was outside on the porch smoking a cigarette waiting for the boys to arrive. It would be any minute now. Clay says they just ate but Judy isn’t one to let her guests get hungry. She remembers Thomas from when the team was down at the Knut’s ranch for a week. She remembers him being polite and helping her move the chair around the table to make sure everyone would fit for the meals.

He was also a very good looking man, he was tall, dark and handsome as Clay would say. She never in a million years would have thought that that would be the man Clay ended up with. There was also Noelle who she spoke with when some of the team was at the bar, she was so very sweet and funny as well. But again, never someone she thought Clayton would end up with.

She saw the dust down the driveway and knew the boys were moments away, Clayton knows she doesn’t like him driving at night. She remembers when Clay was just a young little boy, coming home after driving in the dark crying because he almost hit a possum. He was always emotional. She knows people like to take advantage of his kindness and use it against him, his vulnerability showed everyone he has ever met his flaws.

She can only hope that her son is being treated well up north. She prays they aren’t like Ashley.

The truck pulls up, parking in his normal spot across from the door, hopping out of the truck Judy watches as her son and Thomas link hands as they walk towards the door. Garland stands up slowly, his back and hips have been bothering him as he gets older, shaking Thomas hand after stubbing out his cigarette he leads them inside.

“Ma!” Clay runs over to hug her and lifts her off the ground making her laugh, he seems to be in a wonderful mood. “I missed you.” He starts sniffing the air and making his way towards the kitchen knowing his favorite is somewhere to be found. He was always reminding her of her puppy. Judy places her hands on her hips and shakes her head at him. She looks at Thomas and notices the absolutely love sick face he has on as he watches Clayton leave the room. She smiles. That was something she only ever read about in her romance novels, she wonders if Garland ever looks at her that way.

“Hello Thomas, it's good to see you again.” She watches as he smiles at her and extends his hand for her to shake, she playfully swats his hand away and pulls him into a tight hug. It takes him a minute to hug back but when he does it is tight. Clayton was in good hands.

“Long time no see.” He smiles at her as they pull away, a bit pink in the face. “You look stunning as ever, I might add.”

“Stop hitting on my mom! You’re gonna make my dad jealous.” Clay smiles at Thomas from the doorway of the kitchen with an oven mitt on one hand holding a large bowl of what looks like red beans and rice. Something he always tries to replicate at home but can never get it right. A spoon on the other hand and eating straight from the bowl. Judy laughs for a second.

“Clayton, please use a plate. How many times have I told you that you can’t just eat from the bowl.” Judy takes the towel from over her shoulder and takes the bowl from him, walking in the kitchen. A few minutes later they all sat around the table eating and chatting.

“I think I’m going to bring Noelle down for the two weeks we are back here before we leave for rodeo this summer.” Clay talks with his mouth full and Thomas rolls his eyes a bit. Smiling. Sharing a look with Judy.

“Clayton, have I taught you no table manners over the years.” Judy smiles at him and Garland snorts.

“Nope!” He laughs but moves to the side so Judy can’t smack his arm. “Okay, okay. You have but this is who I am mother goose. I can’t change it.”

Garland actually laughs at this. Thomas has noticed that Garland is a rather soft spoken man, old with a round beer gut but still jolly. Kinda like Santa with the beard, but he doesn’t think Santa wears work overalls. Thomas also notices a bisexual flag pin on his old beat up hat. That must be the pin Clay talks about sneaking onto his dad's hat that he ‘never noticed’ Thomas suspects he did notice. But wants to support his son in any way he can. That makes Thomas feel so happy that he can’t explain it.

Later in the evening before the sun has fully set but the stars are out and bright, plus there is a full moon tonight lighting up the area with ease, Clay had excused himself to the restroom to clean the lipstick off his face while Garland and Thomas went outside to chat.

“Has Clayton told you anything about his last relationship?” Thomas shakes his head no watching as Garland sits down in an old rocking chair and lights a cigarette. Offering one to Thomas. He declines. “Well, she got him into a lot of trouble. Being the Sheriff daughter and all. Plus she had a temper and if I’m being honest I don’t think she ever actually liked Clayton.” He takes a drag and Thomas furrows his brow listening intently. “She only dated him for status, he was one other the only people targeted by the sheriff and he is black so she thought of him more as a chess piece to her rebellion than anything. She is pregnant now and I have a terrible feeling that…” Garland shakes his head, deciding not to tell Thomas what his theory is.

Clay walks out the door and finds them chatting.

“Not giving him the shovel talk are ya, Pa?” He smiles at Thomas and puts out his hand for him to take. “I’m gonna take him on a tractor ride because he has never been before.”

“I wasn't giving him no shovel talk but I am telling him he best respect you.” Clay smiles at his dad and nods. “Go on! I’m not keeping you from counting the cattle.”

“Ha Ha.” Clay rolls his eyes and drags Thomas over to the old looking tractor sitting by the entrance to the gate to the pasture. “Come on! There is somewhere I want to show you!” Clay got them settled, the tractor wasn't very large and it was old so he sat on Thomas’ lap as he started driving in the pasture.

“Comfy?”

“You are a very nice cushion.” Clay smiles as Thomas scoffs and wraps his arms around his waist pressing the side of his head to Clay back. He was having a great time but he was getting a bit uncomfortable from the old seat… and Clay’s ass bouncing up and down on his lap. The drive from a bit before his hard on became noticeable.

“Thomas… are you hard?” Clay can feel his cheeks heating up as he feels Thomas dick under him, ever since Thomas told him he loves him he has been wanting so have some passionate lovemaking… not necessarily on a tractor though. “Please don’t tell me tractors are you new kink.”

Thomas laughs into Clay back and smooths his hands down Clay's abdomen to rest on the top of his thighs. “Maybe not tractors but you bouncing in my lap sure does get me going.” He laughs as Clay pulls off into a grove. Trees surrounding a pond or lake, just a body of water. Wildflowers everywhere, not blooming but he could still smell them. Clay turns the tractor off and stands up doing his best to turn around to face Thomas and not trip on the petals.

“Want to do something about it? We are in a place that Leo and I call ‘Secret’ so we might as well.” Clay straddles Thomas, his arms resting on his shoulders as their faces are just inches apart, only the light of the moon is making them visible to each other. Thomas wastes no time gripping Clay ass and pulling him in for a ferocious kiss. They made out for a while, Thomas smirking into the kiss every once in a while from when he grabs Clay’s ass making him gasp a bit. Normally Clay was very pliant when kissing, very submissive and soft, today he was fighting Thomas for dominance over the kiss and it was incredible.

Thomas felt Clay’s hand slowly fall from his shoulder down to his waistband, unbuttoning his pants with one hand and unzipping them. Thomas rarely ever wore jeans but he felt it was appropriate for meeting parents. Clay ran his finger up and down the bit of Thomas’ underwear that was just behind where the zipper was, teasing him. Feeling his breath hitch Clay smirks, pulling away from the kiss.

“You gonna fuck me or do I have to do it myself?” Clay barley finished the sentence before Thomas somehow maneuvered him so he was on his knees on the tractor seat, resting his chest over the backrest making an ‘oof’ when his diaphragm hit the rest. “Hand me my phone.”

“Think you are gonna get bored?” Thomas raises a questioning eyebrow but hands Clay his phone from the cup holder.

“No… just thought Noelle would Like a video of us.” He smiles looking back at Thomas with a mischievous glint in his eyes. Thomas is stunned for a moment, suddenly whipping out his own phone and pulling up snapchat.

“You’re so smart.” Clay’s smile goes from mischievous to soft in a second, just before Thomas yanks down his pants. “Wait… We don’t have any lube.”

“Check my front pocket, I’ve been carrying it around all day.” Clay is poking around on his phone looking rather uninterested but below the surface he was the most excited he has been in a long time, his dream was to have someone love him, fuck him, and want him in Secret. It’s finally happening.

Thomas reaches into Clay's front pocket, placing a couple small kisses on his back as he does, pulling out a packet of lube he is a bit worried. “Is this gonna be enough to prep you and fuck you?” Clay doesn't answer, just whistling as he kicks his feet a bit, then Thomas sees it, a glint in the moonlight. He looks down and notices… Clay was wearing a plug. He loudly groaned and pressed his forehead to Clay's back. “You’re gonna kill me!” Clay laughs a bit.

“I actually would rather keep you alive for now.”

“For now!?” Clay laughs again.

“As long as I’m alive at least.” Thomas smiles and shakes his head, slowly pulling the plug from Clay. He watches the screen of his lover's phone how his face looks tense but relaxed at the same time. Thomas pulls his own pants down his thighs and tears open the packet of lube with his teeth and pours it onto his cock. Clay zooms in on him.

After spreading the lube on himself he wipes the extra off on Clay’s shirt who is about to protest but gasps as Thomas pushes into him in one smooth glide, not moving just waiting for Clay to adjust. Holding his shirt between his teeth Thomas opens his phone and starts recording with the flash as he starts moving in and out of Clay, slow but deep. Clay’s own recording is on his front facing camera on his face with flash, he actually forgets he is holding his phone for a moment and closes his eyes just enjoying the jolts of pleasure through his body. His phone dips a bit so it isn’t on his face anymore and Thomas stops moving altogether.

“Phone Clayton.” Clay swallows because Thomas never calls him by his full name unless he is in trouble, he fixes the angle without complaining and is rewarded with the deepest thrust yet. Moaning loudly he pushes back onto Thomas a bit and feels him start to speed up. Punching sounds out of him as his diaphragm hits the seat and Thomas’ cock knocks the wind out of him. He is making sure to put on a show as he starts sending the videos to the groupchat of him, Thomas and Noelle.

Thomas’ video also start sending, he is making sure the angle in the video is right to see him fucking clay, sometimes pulling out slow and fucking in fast. Sometimes pulling out fast and pushing in slow. He was taking Clay apart in ways he didn’t know possible.

Clay was getting close, after his third video to Noelle he starts getting shaky, he eyes are rolling back and his mouth is constantly slack. He is used to Thomas tossing out degrading shit when they fuck, and he loves it, but tonight Thomas was completely silent and it made Clay realize just how loud he is. Thomas drives a good three more hard thrusts right into Clay's prostate and then on the fourth he says pressing on it and grinds into it causing tears to fall from Clay’s eyes for the second time today. It sends Clay over the edge, cumming harder than he has in a while and that says a lot because he usually cums hard when he is with his partners.

Clay clenches around Thomas as he starts cumming and it sends him over the edge as well, sending the last video he leans forward and grips Clay's hips tightly as his body tenses. Once he is finished he slowly pulls out, neither of them being a fan of over stimulation, they both wince a bit.

“We don’t have anything to clean up with.” Thomas is thinking about using his shirt but that might be obvious to the parents.

“You could.. Put the plug back in, then use the dirty rag in the bottom of the cup holder for the seat.” Clay isn’t looking at Thomas, he probably thinks it's weird that Clay wants the plug back in. “Just… Just til we get back home.” Clay's face is burning with how embarrassed he is. Thomas thinks for a moment feeling his own face heat up, Clay wants everything he just put in him to stay in him… it was extremely hot but he didn’t know if that's how Clay saw it, taking the plug from his hand that was holding his phone, he help it between his ring and middle finger to make sure they didn’t lose it. He gulps down all his excitement that is threatening to make him hard again and watches closely as he uses his free hand to pull Clay open again. He slowly inserts the plug back into his boyfriend and lets out a shaky breath. How is he supposed to talk to Judy if he knows Clay is walking around with his baby juice still in him.

Oh god.

Clay slowly sits up and rolls his shoulders out, they are a bit stiff. Thomas wraps his arms around Clay's middle after they both pull up their pants and wipe off the seat, Clay’s head falls back on his shoulder, smiling sleepily.

“Hey,” Thomas pokes Clay’s cheek with his nose in a way of telling him he wants a kiss, turning his head Clay gives him a sweet chaste kiss smiling when they rub their noses for a moment. “I love you.” Clay turns around in the seat clumsily, just about falling off but thankful Thomas catches him by his belt loops and pulls him back onto the seat both laughing wildly. Smashing their lips together they are still laughing playfully biting each other's lips and noses.

“I love you too.”

Noelle woke up from her nap in one of her bigger fluffier bean bag chairs, it held her and probably would hold Thomas as well. Her phone was going nuts, sixteen snapchat notifications from Clay and Thomas. She sighs happily, still having an hour until dinner she was excited to talk to her boys, opening her app she clicks on that little purple square and it's a video of Clay's face, but then it zooms in on Thomas… lubing himself up. Sitting up a bit too fast and making herself dizzy, thanks anemia, she starts watching closer. Watching all the videos in full she is incredibly hot and uncomfortable, she curses as she tries to take a screenshot of Clay’s face and accidently closes her phone.

She watches closely at all of the videos, Thomas’ of his cock fucking Clay and Clay’s reaction to this on his own videos. She scrambles to her bag to pull out the gift Clay had gotten her from a fucking tiktok video. It was a rose toy, the first time she used it she came in a minute and a half, crying from how good it was at the same time. She decided to take a video of herself getting off to them… they would appreciate that.

Stripping out of everything except for the hoodie Thomas gave her over a year ago she gets to work. Setting the phone up on the fancy footboard of her bed she gets a bit camera shy, sitting there for a moment thinking about how bad she wishes she was with them. She also was nervous to use the rose on her own because it was really powerful and she didn’t know if she could actually keep it on herself long enough to actually finish.

Then she starts thinking about how Clay and Thomas will react to the video, definitely would get them going again and she would love to hear or maybe even see what they did. She is starting to think she is a bit of a voyeur… She take a deep breath and starts the video, She awkwardly waves at the camera, noticing how her hair is poking out of her hood over her head and she laughs, taking a deep breath she holds down the button on the rose for three seconds and she feels it turn on, buzzing in her hand. She spreads her legs and places the rose onto herself, instantly she knocks her head back on her headboard. Putting her free hand over her mouth to keep her from making noise she scrunches her brows and squeezes her eyes shut. Pressing harder she feels her legs start to shake and her abs clenching. Her toes start to curl and her eyes roll back as she already starts to fall off the edge, already being so turned on and the power of the rose being too much she cums taking the rose off her and curling forward as she shakes, shivering violently. She is breathing hard and feels around for her phone. Stopping the video she sends it to them with a little heart emoji. She looks at the time and smiles as she still has twenty minutes till dinner, she cleans up and gets dressed in something a bit nicer. Her face is still red and glowy but she doesn’t mind. She gets a notification and it's from Thomas in the chat, three drooling emojis and

‘I love you’.

Later on in the night after Judy and Garland have gone to bed and Thomas was on his phone just scrolling on tiktok, Clay got him addicted, the man himself walks into the room with arms full of snacks, placing them on the table in his room. His room was the size of the living room in the apartment, it had two red walls and two white. It seems like Clay has never been one for monogamy in any sense of the word. It had a large king size bed, on a fancy mahogany bed frame with fancy sheets and bedspread that don’t match in the slightest. A walk in closet that was full of clothes and trophies along with a gaming system and boxes with names on them full of little trinkets that Clay has found. Leo and Eloise's boxes are the only boxes left in there because Thomas, Noelle and Reg have all taken their boxes with them. Judy and Garland have a room full of things Clay has collected for them over his whole life.

“Did you get cleaned out? I want to make sure we pack the plug for home, I think we could have some good fun with that.” Thomas moves to the edge of the bed to sit with his feet touching the ground, about to get up to get some pretzel sticks. Clay had gone quiet, he was just chatting about how he was upset that his favorite heifer was sold and his parents forgot to tell him.

“Ummm… yeah.” Thomas senses something is off and motions for Clay to come over to him with his finger, Clay shuffles over to him between his legs, Thomas rests his hands on Clay hips and looks up at him. Clay is looking anywhere but him.

“Clay, what's wrong?” Clay sighs and looks down, Thomas ducks his head a bit to look Clay in the eyes, he looks worried. This made Thomas worry as well.

“I just- it's embarrassing.”

“What's embarrassing?” Clay starts to fidget, pressing the tips of his fingers in between his other fingers. Thomas takes his hands and gives them a squeeze.

“I still have the plug in… because I want you in me. Always.” Clay feels his cheeks heat up and he is waiting for Thomas to get grossed out but instead Thomas smiles at him.

“I don’t think that’s embarrassing, I think that's actually pretty hot.” Clay looks deep into Thomas eyes before moving onto the rest of his face just to see if he is lying, he realizes he is being truthful and tackles him back onto the bed. They eventually stop rolling with Clay on top of Thomas, they are both only in their boxers so there wasn’t much between them. Clay grinds down on Thomas as he feels him getting hard. Thomas goes to put his hands on Clay's hips but is stopped short, Clay pins his hands above his head smirking down at him.

“I’m in charge tonight, keep your hands here. I’m gonna undress us.” Clay shimmies down the shocked Thomas’ body, yanking his boxers off and tossing them over his shoulder, doing the same with his own. He lays down and slowly takes the plug out of himself after scurrying over to get the lube causing Thomas to laugh.

“You’re so cute.” Thomas lays there buzzing with excitement, He jumps a bit when the cold lube hits his way to hard cock and makes a sound of offense when Clay snickers at him. Swinging his leg over Thomas and not even pausing as he sinks down on him. Humming happily. Thomas can’t help it when he goes to move his hands again but Clay pins them back to the bed.

“You should learn to- listen” Clay is moving his hips not even stopping to take a breath. Thomas was groaning under him. Clay has not ridden him yet and it is so different, Thomas was definitely not in control and Clay was so hot being so bossy. Noelle is teaching him things. He was the one gasping and begging for more and Clay was the one giving yet receiving at the same time. He was in his own state, yeah Thomas could put him into a submissive mood with just a simple gesture but he was enjoying this. Clay eventually lets go of his hands but Thomas keeps them there as he watches Clay just focus on fucking himself. His arms stretched over his head, one coming down to glide down his chest and to tug his own neglected cock every once in a while but he was dragging this out because he was in control.

Eventually Clay takes one of Thomas' hands and moves it to his dick, Thomas starts to jerk him off causing his rhythm to stutter. He was moaning and his head was falling back, Thomas started meeting his thrusts and he groaned. He was getting close, he was about to tell Thomas this when he suddenly felt a heat filling him up, his eyes snapped open and he saw Thomas’ mouth open and his head tipped back.

He just came… before Clay did! That never happens!

The feeling of Thomas cumming in him, and the thought that Clay made him come first for the first time ever. He spurts onto Thomas’ stomach, flopping forward and putting all his weight onto Thomas.

“We” Clay was still catching his breath as Thomas kissed all over his face, sweaty and breathing hard he smiled. “We can clean up, but I want you in me when we fall asleep.” Thomas’ heart soared at the thought, this new kink of Clay’s was quite nice, not gonna lie. They clean up and snuggle into bed in a spoon position, Thomas hard and in Clay as he falls asleep, driving him mad!

After Thomas is positive Clay is asleep and he has gone soft he pulls out and rolls over so his back to Clay and calls Noelle. A couple of rings and she answers sounding groggy.

“Noelle! So much just happened! Clay has a fucking warming kink! A WARMING KINK!” He whispers yells as she snorts at him but tells him to go on. “He just pinned me to the bed after having a plug in after we fucked on the tractor! He fucked himself on me! I Came BEFORE him!”

“And I missed all this just to see my dad kick Leo out of the house! That’s dumb! You guys better do it again when I’m home because I was to see that! Anyways I need to rest because tomorrow will be long and boring and tense. Goodnight I love you.”

“Good luck and Goodnight Sugar Tits.” Noelle laughs at him.

“I love you too.”