#I can't be the only freak thinking about it

[egophiliac]

YO TREY CLOVER IS HERE !!!

TREY NOOOO you weren't supposed to look so cool, I was supposed to be able to save my keys for all the upcoming birthdays, how could you do this to me --

also hey. hey Trey. what's in that bowl.

[edward-munson]

back to you | E.M.

Summary: You were supposed to go with Eddie to Robin's wedding, but he broke up with you months before. You mock him every chance you get, but he's grown annoyed over it.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, SMUT (18+ MDNI), unprotected sex (p in v), slight choking, aftercare; Exes to lovers;

Pairing: Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Note: Eddie has shorter hair (ps: I know this is a manip but I truly loved it)

Word count: 5.2k

✮⋆˙

You're so annoying, you always get on his nerves. You obviously do it on purpose purely for your own satisfaction of seeing him being pissed.

Eddie can't stand looking at the way you stay too close to his best friend, Gareth. You're dancing around with the geek, who invited you over to the dance floor at Robin's wedding party.

Months ago you were invited to her and Vickie's wedding. You were supposed to go with Eddie, before he decided to break up with you. You were invited to be her bridesmaid, and he was going to be your plus one. He ended up being a plus one to some girl your group of friends didn't know about. And your plus one was none other than Steve.

It ate him alive for the first two months. To know that you were going with his best friend, who also was your best friend. And the one he knows you likely fool around with sometimes. Which is why he feels the burning sensation in his stomach when he sees the way you slap his chest playfully whenever he makes a stupid joke. Because he knows you're doing it only to get under his skin.

Back before you were broken up, Eddie wondered about a few things about your relationship. He was having a hard time finding a new job, only getting paid when he was doing the concerts with his band. He still lives in the trailer with his uncle, most people think he's the town freak. He came up with the decision by himself, even though it meant breaking your heart. 

He thought he was doing the best for you. You didn't. You thought he was being selfish. You thought he was being childish and completely imprudent. He cried, he made you cry. You knew he still loved you. You still know he does, but at what cost? He wanted to let you go.

And this is why you do anything to piss him off. You don't need to struggle, because the simplest things you do are enough for him to become impossibly mad at you. You always add fuel to the fire. Steve told you to stop. Robin did the same. Until they stopped paying mind to it. As you're dancing with Gareth, you look from the corner of your eyes how he's nursing the same fucking beer for the past forty minutes. He's just so stupid.

A few girls came by to ask him for a dance and he turned down every offer. He refused to step out of his spot. Jonathan came by and started making fun of his own moves. Ripping a laugh from you both. Soon, the girls joined him. He wanted to ask you out once, but you thought you would only accept it to get back to Eddie.

He knows that deep down you still love him and it's obvious. And your friends don't want to come in between you two, because it's not their business.

You feel Eddie approaching the small circle, still holding the bottle of beer in his hand. He tries to dance with Gareth, but it's not like him to do that unless he's in the mood. And you're 100% sure he's not. He has to lean in and speak over your ear for you to hear him. The loud music is blasting through the speakers. You don't always let him do that, but you're curious to know what he has to say.

He asks if you two could talk and you simply respond "no". You then continue to dance with your friends, while he clenches his jaw and watches as you fully ignore him again. Gareth knows what his friend is going through, so he stops dancing and pulls his friend to a table.

You're in your small bubble of happiness, even though you can feel that small pinch in your stomach. Because you wished it was different.

You wished you were dancing with him now. You so wished you could have a slow dance with him. But the next best thing is Steve. You're already settled with yourself you'd let him fuck you tonight. You never crossed that line before, but you're trying to live a different life now. It hurts less to think of the mess Eddie made. He left the pieces so you'd pick them up alone.

From the dance, to the karaoke time, he wouldn't stop looking at you. He tried. He swears he tried to focus on something else. He forced himself to dance with another girl, he forced himself to start a conversation with another girl. But he noticed that the only thing he was getting was the regret biting his ass. The bitter taste of it at each swig of the beer that was already hot in his hand. And it wasn't the taste of the beer that was bitter anymore. 

You were never an attention seeker before. Now you're doing it every time he's around and he feels his blood pleasure rising each time you do something that catches his attention. Why is he even mad if he's the one to break up with you? Why is he mad that you're making his skin crawl when you grab Steve's arm and squeeze it, looking at his direction?

Why doesn't he move on with his life if he wanted to let go of you? He asks himself that every single living day of his life. And you do too. You just don't let it be known.

Eddie almost breaks the bottle in his hand when he notices you're dancing with your back to Steve. Your ass almost touching him, his firm hands under the line of your breasts, his chin resting on top of your shoulder as he sings along the lyrics over your ear.

He stands up from his seat, walking to the bar, where he asks for a glass of whiskey. Does he like the drink? Absolutely not, but he's miserable. He needs something stronger to get through the night.

He downs it in one gulp, asking for another shot. He's starting to feel defeated, because he can't handle the feeling of losing you. He lost you for no reason whatsoever. It's been months and he can't even begin to explain to himself just why he would do that. Now he watches as you almost grind against his best friend, wishing he was the one behind you. He turns his back at you and stares down at the empty glass. It took him long enough to give up watching you, but he can't do that all night and not enjoy the party. In fact, he can't seem to have the energy to do that.

Eddie sighs and drags himself out of the bar, walking out. He walks down the long hallway, looking for the bathroom. You don't hear the footsteps approaching, he doesn't know you're also there. It's a fucking unisex bathroom and you forgot to lock the door. He feels unlucky because he knows you'll think he came after you. But little does he know, you might put on a show tonight and piss him off even more.

"You might be the happiest person in this party tonight" He snaps you out of your thoughts, as he leans against the wall outside the bathroom.

You're still fixing your dress when you look up at him. His face holds a harsh expression, his arms are crossed over his chest. It might be the first time you ever see his hair in place because he used a hair fixing spray. Otherwise it would've been all messy already.

"I have no idea what you're on about" You don't give him the pleasure of your attention. You just keep walking back to the hall.

He walks behind you, following you. He scoffs and tries to reach out to you.

"Seriously, you should just drop the act for a second"

That makes you halt on your tracks and look over your shoulder. He hears the bitter chuckle you let out. He knows he struck a nerve.

"What act, Munson?" You hated calling him by his last name and he hated how it sounded coming from you. "I'm just having fun with my friends"

You continue walking, your heels echoing through the hallway. Eddie hates to admit that you look gorgeous wearing that dress. It's a dark green silky fabric with a slit, the straps are thin and the gown reaches the floor.

He catches up to you, gripping your wrist without force. You feel him pulling you back and walking towards the bathroom again, locking both of you inside. Your heart is strumming against your chest, your palms are sweaty. You haven't been this close to him in such a long time.

"Can you stop being so conceited for just a second?" This time you are the one to cross your arms when he speaks up. "If you're trying to prove a point, you did it. Congratulations!"

Eddie holds his waist like a mother scolding her child. It's kind of ridiculous, you think.

"I'm not trying to prove anything. You're just mad because you can't stand the fact that I'm moving on while you're feeling sorry for yourself. Which is good, you deserve it" You smirk and wink at him, leaving him completely silent.

It didn't last long. He laughs loudly, his head goes back and his chest is roaring. His smokey laugh is something you don't miss, to be honest. It's probably the only thing, though.

"How are you even moving on if you can't stop trying to mock me at every opportunity you have?" He takes a step forward, watching as you almost shrink backwards. "'Cause let me tell you something, darling. You're far from being over me"

He uses the nickname deliberately. He knows it makes you soft for him, you've always loved it when he called you that.

"I don't think you're capable of noticing how I don't give a shit about you anymore, darling" You sneer back.

There's not much space left between you two. You're already leaning against the sink and he's just a palm's length from you. You try to be reasonable, you try to convince yourself you don't care about him. You try to warn your body that you don't want him anymore. You keep your chin up, because otherwise you know you'll give in.

"The way you act when you're around my friends says otherwise. But really, you keep telling yourself that. There's a mirror behind you if it helps"

He's being sarcastically annoying. He's using his remarks against you because you know he's hurt. He's been hurt ever since he left your place. And your only way of living with the fact he wanted to break things up, is for you to play your own game.

But now it doesn't seem like it's working anymore. You try to avoid his gaze, the way his fingers tap against his biceps. You try to avert your eyes from looking at the chest hair that's peeking from his shirt. Just like his tattoos. He never wears those, it makes your head pound. He notices your reaction immediately and chuckles.

"Oh. So now you can't look at me?" Eddie finally closes the distance between you two, leaning against you. Your exposed neck clearly invites him. His breath hits your skin and you shiver, gripping the sink tightly over your hands. "What? I'm too intimidating?"

His voice is gruff, you can smell the whiskey in his breath and the perfume he's wearing. It's musky and addicting. The fact is, he's hardly ever intimidating. He's just doing it now to see you break down your walls and let him in. For a few seconds, you keep your guard up. And you use it for leverage as you push him backwards.

He makes you nervous. You don't know what kind of reaction he has on you now. He flicks his eyes from your pointed forefinger to your furrowed eyebrows.

"Don't you think you've done enough already?" Your voice is almost cracking, and as you try to leave the bathroom, he doesn't let you.

He's never been rough. Even now, he doesn't want to be rough. He carefully holds your wrists with both hands and pushes you against the wall. His nose almost bumps into yours.

"You know what you're doing. You're ruining me. And you're wrecking me. And I know you have all the right to do that, but I left you alone. I'm already a broken man, so you should just leave me alone as well if you really want to move on"

He's breathing heavily, his lips are almost twitching. You know you made him miserable, but the urge of feeling superior made it to your head. And you couldn't stop doing it. You like fooling around with Steve, you like to watch the regret and sorrow crossing over Eddie's eyes when you're around each other.

He kept his gaze at you. He was waiting for another snide remark to come from you. He anticipated your jabs at him because now that's how it felt like when talking to you. When you didn't respond or moved, he sighed. He let go of your wrists, dropping his weight over his hands that rested on each side of your head against the tiles of the wall.

"I thought I was doing you a favor. Being broke, being made fun of, being chased around as the "Satan worshiper". Getting behind in school. I mean, look at me" He shook his head. You intently heard his ranting. "Don't I look like a decent person wearing this?"

He pulls the fabric over his chest, showing you what he means. You know what he means. He's trying to say he looks better wearing clothes that aren't ripped, or that aren't patterned. Eddie has his own style, but he thinks it comes with the consequence of him being known as the freak.

"So let's be honest. I was just going to slow you down. You could have anyone. You're almost there already, because you have Steve. And that guy is every mother's dream of a son in law" His tone is bitter. He's jealous of Steve.

But not exactly because of his look. But because he's lucky to have you with him.

"I couldn't let you do it. You deserve so much better than me. I mean, I try my best at everything but I know I'll always be a failure" He stands in front of you looking the smallest he's ever felt in his life.

And you hate to be the one to fix it. Because he broke you. But he's been broken for a long time, you just couldn't help him more because he wouldn't let you.

"Are you done, Eddie?" You speak up after his monologue. He lifts his head up and furrows his brows in confusion at you. "I heard you, so now you're gonna listen to me"

He doesn't say a word, you're the one caging him now. Even though you're shorter than him, you confront him as he looks at you expectantly. You feel your throat burning, your eyes start to itch. You want to cry so hard right now. You want to scream at him and make him see how much you still love him.

"Don't you ever say you're a failure. You're the closest thing Wayne has to a family, you're practically his son. He's the proudest uncle you could ever imagine" You grip on his shirt tightly, the collar of the fabric getting completely creased. "You don't know how much our friends love you and how much you make them happy. Don't you ever see the way they laugh at your stupid jokes?"

Eddie feels his own eyes getting glassy. He was never ashamed of crying.

"You've always worked hard. You're a huge hard worker and you don't see that. You're so fucking blinded by the negative thoughts, you don't see the other way of life! You're so stupid you don't see how much I love you. How proud I am of you. How I couldn't care less about whatever the fuck those people think of you!"

You feel your chest ripping apart from seeing the way his tears are rolling against his face. His lips quiver and he can't seem to avoid your eyes. He sees right through you. He knows you still love him. He knows you never stopped loving him. And you feel like you can't help but feel sorry for him. For the way he thinks he doesn't deserve better.

"You deserve the whole fucking word, Munson" Your breath gets caught in your throat from crying. "You just don't see that. You don't want to see that. So you push people away because you think you're doing us a favor. But you know you're not".

"I'm sorry, darling. I'm fucking sor–" Eddie sobs audibly and drops his head over your shoulder. He cries loudly and can't hold back the tears that are falling harshly. You let him cry out.

You wrap your arms around his shoulders, stroking his hair softly. You rest your cheek against his head, crying quietly because you can't stand being loud.

His voice comes out muffled from his position. "I do everything wrong. I can't even think of how I'm going to fix this. And it fucking hurts"

He grips your shoulder tightly. He's not feeling strong enough to let go just yet, so he stays like that. He's murmuring apologize after apologize next to your ear as he tries to stop himself from crying.

You spend several minutes holding each other. You don't know how your make up isn't that ruined, but you thank God for the waterproof mascara. At least it's still intact. As for the eyeshadow, you're not so sure.

Eddie seems to settle down, his shoulders are slumped and he's not sniffing against your skin anymore. He still takes a couple of minutes to compose himself, lifting his face from your shoulder. His eyes are bloodshot and his eyelids are kind of swollen. He grabs a piece of toilet paper to dry the tears that were left. You're caught off guard when he brings another piece to clean your smudged make up.

He's careful to not rip the rest of it off. Your heart flutters at the action. And he notices how soft your eyes have become. How your demeanor shifted to a less tense body. You grab his hand and pull him closer, placing your lips softly against his. Eddie closes his eyes and hums to the touch.

"I'm sorry for being so hard on you. I know I was being a bitch" You speak with your mouth still against his.

He places one hand over your jawline, rubbing his thumb against your cheek.

"We're quite even, I guess"

He pulls you in for a deeper kiss, his teeth grazing against your lower lip. "You look gorgeous"

You don't know how to respond to this. Your first reaction is to hide your face on the crook of his neck. Wrong choice. You inhaled his scent, the smell hitting your nostrils like a punch to the gut. You wanted to bite him. You wanted to do atrocities with him. You just had the most vulnerable moment together, he was crying over your shoulder and there you were thinking dirty things.

"You don't look so bad yourself" You try to play cool, your heartbeat starting to become unsteady.

Eddie finds his way to your earlobe, hovering over your skin. His husky tone fanned your ear "I couldn't help but wish I could fuck you in this bathroom"

You felt that cold shiver traveling through your entire body. There's a turning point for you when he gently gives you a bite in the soft area and pulls it.

He slowly made his way to your back and stood behind you. His chest barely touches you. He slid one hand over your shoulder, his fingertips dropping to the side of your arm.

"Look how beautiful you are" He placed his hand over your chin so you'd look at yourself in the mirror.

He used the same hand, slithering it across your back, carefully pushing you forward until you're bending over the sink. He slowly unzips your dress, using his knuckles to ghost over your skin, until he reaches your lower back. He loves the curves, the dimples. Eddie feels his heart racing, the blood pumping in his ears. He removes the straps of the dress from your shoulders, watching your dress pool on your feet. 

You’re still watching it through the mirror, the way he looks at your skin with passion, the way his fingers touch you in the slightest way. He grabs your waist with both hands and swings you over so you face him. He’s mesmerized. He missed you so much. He missed seeing you, kissing you, looking at you. He doesn’t want to waste another minute without you anymore. 

You’re the first to pull him for another kiss, it’s desperate and you clash your teeth together. He glides his hands down, groping your ass, sinking his fingers down your skin. You’re only wearing lace underwear, the soft fabric doesn’t do much to protect your heated core from feeling his bulge against you. You unbutton his shirt, fumbling with it as you leave it open.

Your hands travel through his tattooed chest, down his stomach. Eddie grunts in your mouth, leaving a trace of kisses when he pulls away. He spreads small kisses on your neck, down your chest, until he’s in the middle of your breasts. He sticks his tongue out and licks your skin, slowly reaching your nipple. He rolls it around your hardened skin and sucks on it. He cups your other breast with his free hand and rubs circles around your nipple. 

You grip his hair tightly, tangling it between your fingers as you bite your lip. Eddie never missed an opportunity to make you feel good, and he’s doing it now. He always thinks of you first whenever it comes to sex and it’s not different this time.

He sucks on your skin desperately and pinches your nipple, enjoying the whimpers you let out. You feel his rough fingertips sliding down your stomach, reaching your inner thigh. They slip through the fabric of your underwear, reaching your soaking slit. You mewl, throwing your head back.

He's still playing with your nipple between his teeth, all while his fingers slip up and down your core, stroking your clit softly. He works his hand fast on your pussy, pulling two fingers into you. He listens to your mumbles, your moanings and hums in excitement. His pants are becoming too tight to his cock that's aching for you. You can't hold back the sounds you're making, your head is hanging back, almost leaning against the mirror.

"Eddie, please. I-" You pull on his hair when he pumps you faster, curling his fingers into you.

He's making noises from sucking your tits, he's being as loud as he can and he loves the way you react to it. You love the way his ringed fingers slip in and out of you, you love watching him fucking you.

You instantly miss his touch when he pulls out of you, lifting his head up as he gazes at you with blown eyes. His unbuttoned shirt is making your head spin from the sight. He's not sure it's the whiskey talking, but he hums in appreciation when he licks his fingers, tasting your wetness. Your knees almost buckle.

Eddie holds your waist and spins you around, facing your back to him. Your underwear barely covers your ass and his mouth twitches. He bends you over the sink. He wants to slap your ass so bad, he wants to punish you for pissing him off, but he doesn't. He strokes your delicate skin, his eyes wander through your body. He finally undoes his pants and rolls them down his legs with his boxer. His swollen cock finally springs free, glistening with precum.

Before he can even make a move, he snaps his head to look at you through the mirror. You're expectantly waiting for him to pound on you. "Baby, are you sure?"

Your skin shivers from the nickname again, you just nod. He spreads your legs with his knee, rubbing his tip along your slit, hissing at the feeling he's been longing for.

He pushes into your pussy without warning, spreading you open until he's deep on you. Your body jolts forward with his thrust, his pubic bone slapping against your ass.

"Oh fuck" He grunts, slipping in and out of you. His cock sinks further into your hole.

He slowly starts to speed up his pace, wrapping his arm around your waist as he holds you for support. Your hands are leaning over the sink. Eddie tugs on your hair and pulls it roughly so you lift your head up to watch him against the mirror. He furrows his brows as he watches his cock disappearing inside of you.

He pounds on you, resting his head on top of your shoulder. His breath is uneven, the smell of whiskey hits your skin. You feel the roughness of his hold and it's vexations, because he's already balls deep into you and it feels like you can't get enough of him.

Your hand flies up to hold his neck, your long nails scratching his skin. They sink on it. Your head now rests against his shoulder, but he pulls your hair forcefully and it makes you tilt your head. You try to look at him, but your vision gets blurry.

He's relentlessly hitting you and you clench around him. Your pussy cages his cock, putting pressure into it, making him disrupt immediately. He freezes his movements because you're holding him so tight, it's hard to thrust into you. Eddie grazes his teeth over your neck, sucking on your skin, squeezing your waist in response.

"Please, baby. I need you" He rasps. His throat goes dry when you grind on him. "Fuck, do that again"

He's begging and he doesn't care. You start grinding against him, rolling your hips. He watches your ass sliding against his skin and his cock twitches. He's not gonna last longer. He's surprised he's been hard for that long. He almost crushes your bones for holding you too tight.

His hand goes up to your throat squeezing it, almost choking you. He thrusts harder against you, inching ever so deeply. You're barely up on your feet, if it wasn't for him holding you. Your eyes keep shutting, your mouth is open widely and he uses it for his benefit, sticking two fingers into it. Your tongue roams against his skin, giving him the blissful satisfaction he's been waiting for.

You suck on his fingers as he sloppily hits his hips against your ass. You start to see white when the orgasm comes in a wave of pleasure that you can't hold. Your legs are shaking, your arms are rigid and your stomach is tied to a knot. Your pussy throbs and clenches around his cock multiple times, and Eddie feels his body jolt too.

It doesn't give him time to prepare for it as he spurts inside of you. His cock is twitching and releasing his cum incessantly. He barely opens his eyes, only peeking through his lashes as he watches both of you coming down through the mirror. He feels his cum streaming down his cock to your legs. The warm, white liquid painting your skin.

You throb at the same time he twitches, your cunt is so sensitive you can barely move. He stays inside of you for a while, ripping his fingers from your mouth, still holding your waist. His hand is now soft on you, but he leaves marks from how much he squeezed you. His fingertips are printed on your skin.

He whispers over your ear, saying he's going to pull out of you and it's painful when he does. For both of you. Eddie groans at the feeling and immediately sighs.

"Come here" He gently says, helping you sit up on the sink.

Before he helps clean you up, he puts his pants back up, carefully fixing his underwear in place. His tip is so sensitive, it's hard to even touch it. He picks the toilet paper, wetting it under the faucet. You watch as he rubs your skin, cleaning off his cum. You find it passionate.

Eddie always did that to you. He always cleaned you up, but rather, he would even pick clean clothes for you to wear after. Your heart is still beating fast, the sight of him soothing your body when he helps lifting your dress and zipping it up. He fixes the straps and smooths your hair down.

You're still watching him over the mirror. The entire time he's focused on you. On your skin. On your body. Your well-being.

He then fixes his own hair, making sure it's in place. He buttons up his shirt and leaves it open on the collar because he knows you like staring at him. He shoots you a warm smile and you blush. It's like you lost your confidence towards him. He washes his hands and his face. His cheeks are still flushed.

You seem to be in a daze, your eyes are roaming over his entire body. His hair that is shorter now, he doesn't have bangs anymore. He grew out a beard, more like a stubble. Your fingers are tapping against the tiles of the wall. Then you snap out of it a second later, walking out of the bathroom as he follows your steps.

You turn to him, extending your hand towards him. Eddie looks at you in confusion, and you wiggle your fingers so he holds your hand.

"We can talk about it later" Your eyes crinkle when you give him a side smile. He nods and laces his fingers in yours.

Eddie didn't think he would come to the wedding and have fun. He knew he was going to be miserable months before. You thought you were going to leave the party and sleep with Steve. You knew you wouldn't be able to stop mocking Eddie.

You're both walking down to the hall, hands tied, faces flushed. Reminiscing about the relationship didn't cross both your mind. Maybe the missing piece was the conversation, his redemption.

Now as he walks by your side, he thinks he needs to give himself a break and stop being a victim. He can't lose you again and he will make it up to you.

[crsssie]

shoes - spencer reid x sharpshooter!reader

"that's interesting. I think Snippy only has six. Black heels, black flats, white heels and joggers, cream heels, and a pair of black boots—"

"I'm hurt you keep calling me Snippy." You huff. "I have white boots too."

"Well I can't call you honey at work, now can I?" Spencer pauses. "I thought you retired those."

"Nope."

Emily gives the two of you a look, sighing. "Speaking of which. I really need a new pair of boots."

"Oh! The kitten heels are on sale at the mall! I know you love those." Garcia beams. "We should go!"

You rummage through your bag, raising a brow when you realize something's missing.

"Sorry, you guys go ahead. I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"You're not going to join us?"

"We'll stay back." Spencer nods, stepping out of the elevator. "The back of Snippy's heel needs to rest too."

You wave bye to the team as they stare up at Spencer, blinking twice when he tilts his head.

"How can you tell?"

"You've been walking different all day."

"Okay, freak." You laugh. "You noticed?"

"It takes on average anywhere from 80 to 120 hours to break in a pair of good quality leather boots. The boots aren't new, but you have really sensitive heels, so it only makes sense that it'd take longer to break them in." He offers a hand, and you raise a brow.

"I can still walk, you know?"

"You only have around 77 hours with these on." Spencer hooks an arm around your waist, and you yelp when he lifts you into his arms.

"You gonna carry me home like this?"

"I have a change of shoes for you in my cabinet. Come on."

You watch Spencer slide your boots off, bandage set on the back of your heel as he slides a pair of sneakers on for you.

You look around the office, raising a brow. "Won't you give me a kiss on the knee?"

"Through the pants?" He quirks a brow up, sliding a hand up your calf.

"I was joking."

He presses a gentle kiss to your knee, eyes closing as he hums. "I wasn't."

You fight the embarrassment that crushes up your face.

"If Hotch calls us in for HR I'm going to quit." You hide your face.

Spencer laughs. "What about Strauss?"

"I hope it's Hotch."

"Mm... me too."

[snakeredbirdbatkatana]

I just had the mental image of Tim getting de-aged mentally and physically to a literal one year old.

Except the scars are all still there.

How much do you wanna bet the Jason has a mental breakdown when he takes one look at a literal baby with a scar on his throat and various other places that he put there?

How do you think Damian would feel about the scars he left?

How would Dick react to the scar of the missing spleen and freak out even more than he already is because this baby is immuno compromised without it and older Tim is too but he is so much more vulnerable like this and if Tim had had a support system when he went on the Bruce quest he might not be missing a spleen?

How much do you wanna bet Bruce is not putting down baby Tim but he's also so scared whole he's holding him because he's so small and fragile what if holds him too tight and hurts him on accident.

The inherent understanding of pain only when it is on the young is something that is so heart breaking.

Because Jason if you can't imagine slitting the throat of a 1 year old why would you do it to a 15 year old.

Because every person is made up of all those little bits form 1, to 17, to 35 your still that person just older.

I think sometimes if forgotten that at some point everyone was small and innocent and only wished for kindness.

Bruce would never put that baby down and baby Tim is in love with the cuddles.

Also I am sobbing.

[ssentimentals]

better late than never {jeon wonwoo}

pairing: jeon wonwoo x fem!reader

prompt: honestly? justin bieber's 'mistletoe' playing around everywhere i go

warning: none, pure fluff, enjoy my loves!

desperate times call for desperate measures. wonwoo would've been embarrassed by the whole ordeal if only he weren't so deep in his misery that even his friends agreed to go with this plan. the 'plan' is very simple - fill hoshi's apartment with as many as mistletoes as it's only possible without making it look very... obvious.

'it's almost february, it's going to be obvious anyways,' dino supplies unhelpfully. 'even if we put just one, it will catch everyone's attention cause it's a freaking mistletoe and we're way past december.'

'but that's why wonwoo bought the little ones,' mingyu argues and wonwoo could kiss him for being supportive. however, he only wants to kiss you, so he keeps his lips away from the tall giant. 'they are not very visible.'

'and isn't that a problem on its own?' hoshi mutters, holding one mistletoe up in front of his face. 'what's the point of hanging them around if they are not visible?'

wonwoo is going to cry. or combust. or do something equally illogical because they have three hours left before the party and his plan is in ruins so far. he knows you're going to come a bit earlier than everyone else just to help get the space ready for the celebration because you're sweet like that; he can't have you walk in here when they are plenty of unused mistletoes lying around.

'everyone shut up and start hanging these things around,' minghao saves the day with his decisiveness. 'tapes are on the couch. we don't have much time, c'mon. it's either this or bearing wonwoo's lovesickness for much more time and i honestly can't do it anymore.'

wonwoo rolls his eyes. 'i'm not lovesi-'

'you are,' hoshi interrupts, grabbing one tape and throwing another one in mingyu's hands. 'me and minghao will take kitchen and living room, you go do bathroom and bedroom.'

'oooh, we're gonna do bedroom?' mingyu asks, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 'jumping straight into the action, huh?'

dino sends him a disgusted look and then turns to wonwoo, taking two mistletoes from his hands. 'i'll go add those on the balcony, i think it's the best place for your confession.'

wonwoo swallows loudly, gripping one mistletoe which's left in his hand. because that's what it's all about here, right? for him to confess. when he first came up with this silly idea about mistletoes, it was just a joke. they were all a bit drunk, sitting in hoshi's kitchen, when wonwoo muttered that he needs a little push, some sparkle of magic to confess to you, to kiss you. and to his own surprise, his drunk mind came up with a wonderful idea - what is a better incentive to kiss than a mistletoe? fast forward one week he's here in hoshi's apartment, making sure that there is pretty much no place uncovered with the mistletoe and all he needs to do is to jsut get you alone and point on the mistletoe. in his dreams you understand what he means and kiss him. in case you will not get it, he's going to suck his fears up and confess. being honest, wonwoo dreads this scenario but he is prepared nonetheless - little note with words that are on the tip of his tongue all the time.

'done!' guys announce one by one. minghao grabs dino and goes to his car to take all the drinks, while mingyu comes over to him, wrapping one arm around his shoulders. 'it's such a cool idea, honestly. i think she will love it.'

'i agree,' hoshi comes closer, smiling. 'it's really cute. just don't fuck it up and like, not confess.'

wonwoo cringes. 'i'll try.'

mingyu laughs, slapping his back so strongly that wonwoo almost falls forward. 'you'll be fine, woo. anyone with eyes can see that you're into her and i'm 100% that she knows it too.'

'i think she likes you too,' hoshi says, always there to lift wonwoo's spirits. 'i mean, she willingly listens to you go on about your nerdy stuff, so. if that doesn't mean she likes you then i don't know what is.'

wonwoo is not sure whether to be thankful for his friends or go strangle them all. he opts for the first option and simply goes to help prepare everything else for the party, busying his mind with other things. it doesn't really work, his mind always comes back to you either way; wonwoo thinks it's kind of embarrassing, actually. it's like you're always on the background and you pop up in his head whenever he does anything random: cleaning the house? he remembers how you said you stress-clean sometimes. going out with friends? he snaps a picture of a pretty interior to send to you cause he knows you'll like it. eating something? if it's good he makes a mental noise of buying it to you so you can try it as well. your invisible presence in his life is so huge, he sometimes wonders whether you can feel that he's thinking about you. if you do then how does it feel for you? do you get a pang in the heart every time you see him too? do you also get nervous when he hovers nearby? do your fingers tremble a little from the desire to reach out, to touch, to caress lovingly? wonwoo is so out of this that it takes hoshi smacking him in the head with 'she is here, idiot!' to wake up.

'hi guys!' you sweetly wave to everyone and easily accept one-sided hug from mingyu before noticing him. wonwoo's heart skips a beat at the way your eyes twinkle at the sight of him. 'woo! hi!'

'hi,' he lets out a bit too breathless for his own liking. he steps closer and opens his arms, welcoming you warmly and holding you a little too tight. 'you're okay? do you want anything? water, maybe? or are you hungry? we have-'

'we don't have anything, pizza will arrive only in an hour!' dino shouts.

you giggle, effectively taking wonwoo's focus from killing dino to your cutest self. 'that's fine, i'm not hungry. is there anything i can help with?'

wonwoo sometimes fears for his heart. you're too sweet, too cute, too good - how is he supposed to hold all his feelings for you inside when you're like that? 'not really, but hoshi bought new stuff, let me show you.'

you follow him eagerly and doesn't even blink when he steps very close to you. wonwoo hopes that this is a sign of you being comfortable with him, you wanting him in your space. he asks how your day's been and while he's listening attentively, he mostly watches your reactions, needing to see if you notice mistletoes or not. there are four of them in the living room with one of them being literally taped to the tv (god, who thought it was a good idea?!) and your eyes sweep past them with no care. 'everything is so cool!' you comment on new action figures hoshi bought. 'very hoshi style.'

wonwoo nods. he's getting nervous, knowing that soon people will start coming up and they will take you from him because everyone wants a piece of you and he will lose you to the ocean of people and-

'do you want to go to the balcony?' he asks suddenly.

you blink. 'um- sure? yeah, okay, let's go.'

you pass the bathroom with a very obviously hang up mistletoe and you don't even bat an eyelash, which crushes wonwoo's hopes. you don't notice them. he should confess on his own. cradling note in the back pocket of his jeans, he opens the door for you and takes a subtle big breath before following you. he can do it. he's an adult, for god's sake. if he manages to pull all-nighters for weeks during midterms and come out alive then surely one confession will not kill him, right?

'woo?' you call, frowning. 'is everything okay? you look kinda-' you pause as your gaze shifts to somewhere above wonwoo's head. 'is- my god, is that a mistletoe?'

wonwoo holds his breath. 'yeah,' he croaks out, frozen.

you step closer and come up on your tiptoes, wanting to touch it. 'did hoshi forget to take it off? it's way past christmas.'

you make a move to presumably take it off, but wonwoo catches your wrist and slowly wraps his another hand around your waist. his heart is beating so loud he fears entire city can hear it; you simply blush at the proximity. 'wait,' wonwoo asks, clearing his throat. 'don't take it off yet.'

'okay...' you mutter, lowering your hand.

your beautiful eyes stare into his and it's really not fair; how can he remember the words from his note when you're looking at him like that? 'um.'

'did you want to discuss something?' you ask, somehow not commenting on his hand on your waist. 'you brought me here, so.. i thought you wanted to say something.'

dying would've probably been easier than this, wonwoo swears. he swallows, his fingers flex on your waist. 'we should kiss,' he ends up blurting out because head to mouth filter refuses to work. your eyes widen and you make an attempt to step back, but he doesn't let you, holding you securely in his arms. he lifts his head up: 'mistletoe, you know. it's a- tradition. yes, tradition.'

you look confused at first and wonwoo braces himself for a fall. you're going to slap his face and walk away, you're going to call him different names and-

'only because of the mistletoe?' wonwoo blinks at you, shocked. you clarify: 'we need to kiss only because of the mistletoe?'

he shakes his head. your expression softens and with care, you wrap your hands around his shoulders. 'why else then?' you ask quietly.

your eyes are so pretty. you are so pretty and you are so close, wonwoo is losing his mind. 'because i like you,' he confesses in a quiet whisper meant only for you. 'because i wanted to kiss you for a very, very long time.'

you don't slap his face. you don't walk away. you don't call him different names - instead you move just a tad bit closer but it's enough for the hope inside wonwoo's heart to flare up. 'how long?' you ask, searching for something in his face.

wonwoo hopes you can find adoration there, because that's what he feels. 'for so long that it's embarrassing how i confessed only now.'

your giggle is his favorite sound on earth. you lean closer, brushing your noses together. 'better late than never,' you mutter, trembling a little in his hold. 'right?'

wonwoo nods. tightens his arms around you. 'right,' he whispers before finally closing the distance and kissing you.

a/n: missed writing longer stuff, god! hopefully it's not awkward, i did write only small prompts in last few months and got kinda used to them :/ let me know if you liked it or not! <3 - nini

my other seventeen works are HERE

[linkcharacter]

i feel like jimmys the coworker who writes people up for sitting down. like he really is the only one who actively wants to be working for PE, thinks being captain will fulfill him to the point of getting angry curly isn't. his dream scenario is traveling the far reaches of space. swansea mocks him for being a workaholic even in disaster repeatedly. why does everyone talk about him like a lazy bum i feel like half his fucking problem is being a freak way TOO passionate about this deadend job lol

I agree!

But I wouldn't say Jimmy is a passionate workaholic, as much as this job is the only place where he has prospects in, where he has high rank and is in control. And Jimmy is supposedly good at it too, queue Curly's comment on now he didn't think Jimmy would take to being a co-pilot as well as he had, as his life up until that point has been a struggle. Additionally, we can see throughout the game that Jimmy is not incompetent in the slightest, he might be shortsighted, self-centered, crumbles under stress and can't keep his emotions in check (and also a fucking dick) but he's resourceful and straightforward, he does what is required of him and is rather streets-smarts experienced, observant and pretty articulate. I'd say though it's less of a passion thing as it is a desperation at chasing any opportunity of being someone in life, to have a thing he can say he's good at and is respected for it, like a career. (" The endless fucking desperation to get shit done") He's an opportunist who craves control and uses everything given to him for his own benefit. Jimmy wants to reach further and is appalled that Curly doesn't want to do the same, that he is "taking for granted" things Jimmy desperately desires to have.

Jimmy is the only person for whom this job was everything he had. Curly wants his life to be something he doesn't have to run from, has ideas of starting over even if he's not good at something, wants to try new things. Anya is determined and persistent and knows exactly who she wants to be, and is only at PE so she can pay for her further attempts at getting into med school. Swansea has pretty much reached his goals in life, has kids and family, and he's old, as Jimmy points out, probably doesn't have many years of employment left. Daisuke just got here. But Jimmy has nothing aside from this, the only things we know about him outside and backstory-wise are that his life was shit and likely his only friend is Curly.

I think Swansea more so notices Jimmy being restless and all self-important now that he is a Captain by title, who wants to boss people around. Jimmy is a control freak. And half of his problem was that this deadend job is the best he had.

[lycheeloving]

Little fic about Bruce Wayne x a socially anxious reader! Bc I have social anxiety and wanted a relatable reader <3 Well. Partially relatable. I had to make them braver than me, to actually talk to Bruce in the first place lol

This is the first chapter of 3.

You're freaking out. Great.

Why did you come to this party again? Just because you happened to be one of the lucky random citizens to get invited? Because you didn't want to seem ungrateful? Because you were hoping that just once, you could manage to actually talk to others and have fun?

Yeah, well, that didn't work out. You're standing outside on a balcony, doing breathing exercises.

Actually, are you even allowed to be out here?

Fuck. You startle yourself out of your calm breathing and start sweating despite the cold.

You saw other people out here before you came here, so it should be fine! Unless only specific people are allowed here, or people are only allowed here at specific times?

You turn around to look at the door, but don't find any "do not enter" signs there.

Don't trust your anxiety thoughts! You're allowed to be here! Unfortunately that doesn't make you feel any better.

You turn to look at the skyline of Gotham again, hoping that that will calm you down.

How long have you been here, would it be weird to leave already? But you'd have to walk through the crowded room to get to an exit... Is there a backdoor maybe?

Just as you start googling the layout of the place you're in, you hear somebody else walk onto the balcony. Dammit. You hope they're just here to smoke and that they'll ignore you.

You stare at your phone. No results, the layout isn't available online. Makes sense, that would probably be a major security risk. Still sucks for you.

Maybe you should try those breathing exercises again. How did they go again? In for 4 seconds, hold for 3, out for 9, right? No, wait, it's in for 6, hold for-

"Are you ok?"

That was probably directed at you, but you're not in the mood for conversation. Especially a conversation about how you're feeling. Yikes. Maybe they'll take the hint if you just ignore them.

You look at your phone again, looking up how you're supposed to breathe when you're anxious.

You should honestly just leave. Do the busses run this late? If you have to call a taxi you might actually pass out.

Or if the stranger doesn't leave. Unfortunately they're allowed to be here. Probably. Unless nobody is allowed to be here and oh fuck, are they here to throw you out? No, probably not, calm down. Either way, nothing you can do. Just breathe.

"Not a big fan of parties, are you? Don't worry, me neither." The guy leans onto the railing right next to you, but you don't look at him.

Can't he just leave you alone? Fuck. Whatever. Your anxiety is already bad, how much worse could it get by talking to some rando?

Besides, you came here to try and fight against your anxiety, you should at least have one conversation.

"Uh, no. I'm not a party person. At all."

That's all he asked you, right? You hope you didn't forget half of his question.

"So why are you here?" Why does this guy have so many questions? What does he care?? Ok, calm down. One conversation, then you'll leave.

"I was one of the lucky random people to get invited. And I thought, well, maybe it wouldn't suck? And that it would be a good opportunity to—" To do something that helps you work on your social anxiety. Maybe don't tell that to a total stranger? You trail off.

"—to... Um. I don't even know. I thought maybe I would have fun? Maybe?" You try to smile, but it ends up being more of a weird grimace, directed at the floor. Off to a good start!

"Not to be rude, but you don't look like you're having fun." Yeah, no shit, Sherlock.

"Maybe you should have brought a plus-one then, huh? Then at least you wouldn't be alone out here. Unless you did bring one and they abandoned you, of course... I hope that's not the case. Would be typical of me, bringing up a sore topic..." He did! But not in the way he thinks.

"Can't bring a plus-one when you don't have any friends!" Your tone sounds a bit more annoyed than you want it to.

"Oh. Well. Um. See? This conversation has been so short and I've already said something stupid. This is why I escaped onto this balcony, actually." He stops talking to take a deep breath. "Well, one of the reasons."

At least he doesn't seem super socially adept either. That makes you feel a bit better.

"It's fine. Whatever." You scratch at some dirt that's stuck to the railing. "Just, um, if you were trying to get away from the conversations, why are you talking to me?"

"Well, you looked like you weren't having a good time, so I tried to distract you, even if I'm not sure that really worked out." He shifts next to you, taking a break from talking as if unsure what to say next.

"And I have to admit, I might have followed you out here. Ok, I did follow you out here. Because I saw you, and thought you looked interesting. And beautiful. So I wanted to get to know you."

What?? He must be joking. You stick out like a sore thumb in your cheap clothing, and you've been acting awkward ever since you got here.

You finally look up at the weirdo who was apparently actively seeking you out, seeing his face for the first time. Your eyes widen.

That's Bruce Wayne. The guy who's throwing this party. Are there hidden cameras anywhere? You really should have left the party as soon as you started panicking more than normal, then this wouldn't have happened.

Why didn't you recognize his voice? You knew you should have watched that stupid puppy interview the internet has been raving about, then you would've known what he sounds like! How come you've never heard him speak before! Stupid elusive billionaire that only appears on video once in a blue moon...

"I'm Bruce, by the way." He smiles at you with his stupid, pretty, charming smile. Ugh.

"Yeah. Uh. I figured." At least you recognize his face. That would have been even more embarrassing...

"So... What's your name?" He's still smiling at you. Fucker. You reluctantly give him your first name.

"Wanna get out of here?" Your eyes widen and you take a step back. Woah. Is he propositioning you? You feel a bit flattered, but also, absolutely not. No way. You can't even really talk to him without panicking, how are you supposed to—

"I didn't mean—" He grimaces. "Not like that! I just meant, let's get some food, talk, something like that. I didn't mean to come onto you like that! Sorry. Too much, too fast. We could also just stay here and I'll get some food from inside? Super casually, no strings attached, just friendly conversation. So we can get to know each other a bit, because like I said, I think you're interesting. The most interesting person at this party by far. What do you say?"

Fuck. Sure. Whatever. You are kind of hungry and didn't want to touch any of the food here with all of these people staring at you, even though it looked very tasty... And Bruce seems nice enough! And, again, anxiety training. Yes, you're scared, but just this once, live a little!! Don't run away! Even if that's what your body is screaming at you to do.

"Um. Uh. S- Sure?"

After asking what kind of food you like, to which you just answered "Oh, um, whatever.", Bruce started squirreling away one of every food that's at the party to your little balcony. You won't touch some of it, because you are a bit of a picky eater, but you're not telling him that. Maybe you should have. Oh well.

Bruce even pulled the curtains indoors shut, so nobody will wander out onto this specific balcony. Cool! One less thing to worry about.

Then you start talking. He asks about what you do for work, your hobbies, what you're interested in... Just anything that he can think of.

At first you're reluctant to open up, but then you realize: You'll never see him again.

You can treat him like a therapist! Except of course that you never really told your therapists about anything, because you had more appointments scheduled with them, meaning you couldn't just avoid them after. No thanks!

But where would you ever see him again besides on TV, or maybe a paparazzi picture of him and a model in a shitty magazine? You never go to rich people places! Except for right now, but it's not like you'll be invited to the next party, and even if you are, you don't have to show up!

And if he tries to ask for your number or anything, you can just say no. Easy. (But also, what are the odds he'd even do that? What reason could he have to want to talk to you again? He's just trying to avoid the party.)

Talking to Bruce Wayne is basically like venting to faceless strangers online.

This is fine. This is good, actually.

Anxiety training with no consequences. Fine. You can do this.

You probably open up a bit too much, in between bites of delicious food, if you're honest. Whatever. That's for future-you to regret.

You tell him about your job at the bookstore, how you would have asked one of your coworkers to come with you tonight even though you're not close to any of them, but didn't know how to bring it up and also remembered that you lied and told them you have friends, and didn't want them to question you about why none of your friends can come with you instead.

About how you don't really have any hobbies besides sitting at home and maybe watching a show or a movie, or scrolling on your phone.

About how you only came today because you knew you had to try to do something against your anxiety disorder or at some point it would get so bad that you'd never leave the house again. And now you're even having a conversation!! A conversation that includes personal information about you!!

He tells you about himself as well, but you're so nervous that you don't really remember anything for longer than a minute. At least you remember long enough to keep up the conversation, even if you're probably acting awkward. Sorry, Bruce!

But you do also talk about other stuff, nothing personal about either of you, your opinions on this and that, and actually get along pretty well.

At some point the bat signal appears in the sky and you say that you're never sure if it's comforting to see, because it means that Batman is out there to protect people, or that it's scary, because it means that there's a reason that Batman is out there, meaning you could get hurt.

Bruce nods absentmindedly, then checks his phone and says that he has some business to take care off, but that he had a wonderful evening with you, really. You wave at him as he rushes away.

You can't say you're sad that the evening ended this way, as you spent more time with him you started worrying that he really was going to ask for your number or to see you again... This way, he didn't even get to ask your last name! No need to worry about having embarrassed yourself in front of someone you'll see again, just about the fact that he could tell the press about you, but he literally has no reason to do that, right? He wouldn't do that, shut up anxiety.

You leave the balcony a bit more confident in yourself than when you entered it.

Maybe next time you'll try this with someone you might even see again! But, baby steps. This was really good for a first step, though.

You mentally pat yourself on the shoulder as you make your way through the now thinned-out crowd towards the exit. This evening was a success!

Now as a reward you'll spend the rest of your night on your couch, scrolling social media while half-heartedly watching TV.

[sociallyanxiouspyrate]

pjo/hoo/toa relationship HCs:

-(Valgrace) Leo would be insanely jealous. Worse than any other halfblood we've ever seen. He's not super dramatic about people who are friendly or had crushes on him but if he finds out someone has a crush on Jason? He's on a rampage.

-Annabeths insomnia is miraculously cured when she and Percy share a bed BUT she can't fall alseep fully cuddling and Percy needs to be latched onto her to fall asleep.

-Nico was obsessed the millisecond Will showed him the fine flirting skill of drawing on someone. Nico starts permanently carrying a pen to doodle on Will whenever they hangout.

-Hazels heart stops when she sees Frank shape shift into an animal he hasn't shifted into before. It never goes bad and Frank only thinks about it once he's shifted back and sees the mildly horrified look on her face.

-Jason starts being equal parts freaked out and annoyed Leo has insomnia and barely shares a bed with him when the time comes.

-Frank starts needing glasses but they're a super small prescription so he leaves them around and waits till they're necessary. Hazel steals them all the time and waits for Frank to notice the issue.

-Percy is very very very afraid of voicing his daydreams of a wedding and kids to Annabeth even when they're twenty but Annabeth nonchalantly says, "i can't wait for us to have one of these" when shes holding Milly/coach's second kid. Percys brain goes offline for almost twenty minutes. He doesn't even wait a full year to propose after that.

-every single day Jason is affectionately given a little metal creation by Leo. It's great and its so sweet but he runs out of space so quick even with a full Zeus cabin at his disposal.

-Leo very much tries to brave Zeus cabin for some quality time with Jason, but the white marble and large statue of Jasons father? Have him very unnerved.

[starrysan]

a night to remember

(title is indeed a laufey ref)

pairing: zamboni operator!san x figure skater! fem!reader

prerequisites/warnings: cursing, reader overworking, friends to lovers, me horribly naming different ice skating tricks..

a/n: I had this draft sitting here for a good month (in that time I released killin it, and like 3 chapters of nouvelle vague.. sorry san), inspired when I saw someone cleaning with the zamboni and someone was holding onto it on the side so they were like riding the zamboni together ykyk (ty for my friend for giving this idea) also this is 100% inspired by that one scene from Yuri on ice ifkyk

[2.4k words]

1st person pov (y/n)

the clock strikes 12. all my friends were long gone at this point. double axel, toe jump, salchow. I didn't even need my music at this point I had memorized my entire number in my head. just a few more times till I can go hom- "are you almost done?" I hear a voice that shakes me from my thoughts as I pause my skating.

"what?" I ask, taking my headphones out of my ears. "I said, are you almost done? I can't go home till the ice gets cleaned." the voice belonged to the zamboni operator, san? I think his name was? "oh yeah i'll be done in a minute" I say before skating around a bit more and reluctantly getting off the ice. I sit on the bench, taking my skates off, wiping the ice off of them and covering them before putting them back in my skate bag.

"why're you still here anyway? its way past 12" san asks going over to turn the zamboni on. "competitions in a few months and my numbers still.. missing something? I don't know" I reply, now finished packing up my bag. "sorry for keeping you waiting. goodnight san." and with that, I left the rink before exiting the building to the parking lot and getting on my bus.

3rd person pov

san wondered why y/n was freaking out when it seemed like she had so much time but he paid no mind. he cleaned the ice like usual, rounding the zamboni all the way around the ice before parking it and heading home himself. this cycle repeated the next few weeks. she would stay till almost midnight but san didn't mind, he watched her do the same routine ten times over, even enjoyed watching it to. her expression turn into a pout whenever she messed up or forgot something.

y/n noticed san's glances as she skated gracefully along the ice, so much so.. that she was too distracted and she slipped on a crack in the ice and fell over. "fuck" she muttered brushing the ice off her knees. "you okay?" san shouts over the glass covering the rink, y/n giving a thumbs up in response.

after the first week, san realized y/n was going home without getting something to eat and started bringing her little snacks to eat before her multi hour long skate sessions. it started with little snacks like a granola bar or a bag of chips, but it turned into full out meals or the two would grab food before she started her practice.

they got to know each other, san finding out y/n had been ice skating ever since she was a kid. y/n finding out san worked there because his dad was the owner of the rink. the two got close.. really close. to the point where they weren't sure what the two were anymore. y/n was currently in san's apartment laying on his lap on the couch as the two watched their favorite show together.

y/n was back on the ice when monday rolled around. she skated around her body moving before she even had to think. though she seemed to be having a bit of a hard time at practice today, stumbling onto herself. the lack of sleep seeming to having caught up to her.

she was getting yelled at left and right and looked like she was about to break. her instructor had her take a break and she stepped off the ice. she has her head down only poking it up when she senses san presence in front of her. she looks up at him and before either of them say anything san pulls her into a hug to which y/n breaks down in his arms.

she sobs into his shirt for a while before muttering a quiet, "I suck" into his chest. "you don't suck" san whispers back. "I do.. I cant get it right." she sniffles. "y/n look at me" san tells her looking down to meet her gaze as she lifts her head up. "you're so good at what you do. you know that right? even when you were just first learning your routine you'd work on it night after night and wouldn't leave till you perfected it. you can do it you just haven't gotten the rest you need.. which we both know is the main reason. but you can do it so don't tell me you suck because we both know you don't" san finishes.

"okay?" he raises an eyebrow at her. "okay" she says. "thanks san" she says hugging him again. "now go on show me your.. what's it called.. your triple axel." he smiles. she giggles before heading back on the ice. her instructor could sense something changed during her break and turned on her music. she skates around letting herself take in the music she had started getting sick of and instead relaxes herself as she skates doing her routine flawlessly.

she looks at san who gives her a smile and thumbs up in approval as she skates off and packs her stuff up. "our show at your place again? ill buy dinner" she asks as san revs up the zamboni. "yeah of course" he says. "wanna go for a ride?" he offers. "how?" she asks puzzled. "hang on tight" he says as she grabs onto the handle of the zamboni as san starts it up.

"woah" y/n exclaims in surprise as the two circle the ice rink. she sees the marks from the figure 8's she drew in the ice, the lines of chalk she drew to skate in a circle. she watches the marks practically vanish as san goes over them with the zamboni. after he finished cleaning he helped her off the machine before the two head to his place to watch their show. y/n falls asleep there as she usually did.

y/n was having another late night practice session as san watched from the benches. "so do you get to skate for free here?" y/n asks as she skates around. "technically yeah but um.." san pauses. "I don't know how to skate" he admits sheepishly. "no way really?" y/n says in surprise stopping right by the little doorway leading out to the rink.

"my dad gets me skates for Christmas every other year or so but I've never gotten around to using them." he continues. "do you want to learn?" y/n asks. "I think im gonna fall and bump my head" san tries to get out of it but the next thing he knew he was going circles around the ice clinging onto y/n for dear life since she didn't let him use the wall.

"y/n we're skating way too fast" he squeaks but y/n just giggles as they go towards the middle. she lets go of him for a second and he freezes in place as she does a figure 8 on the ice. she looked so elegant and ethereal. she smiles and heads back to him. "try skating to me" she says skating backwards no more than a couple feet away from him.

san shakes his head "im gonna fall" he pouts. "you will if you keep that mindset" y/n scoffs. "I won't let you fall san skate to me" she says. he slowly moves his feet more walking than skating but y/n didn't mind as he waddled his way over to her. "you got it!" y/n exclaims as he grasps her hand again. "okay that's enough for today" san frowns and y/n nods in agreement bringing them to the entrance. "did you have fun at least?" she asks cleaning her skates. he hums in reply. "guess so"

it was officially 2 days till competition day, y/n freaking out was a understatement. "y/n you're pacing so much you might burn off the carpet" san chuckles nervously as she paced around his apartment. "sorry i'm nervous as hell" y/n admits. "y/n you're gonna do great" he smiles. "I keep fucking up my triple axel.. what if I fall on the ice in front of everyone?" she says in almost fear. "or.. what if you do so good you get a standing ovation?" san counters. "we both know that's not happening" she sighs. "you never know" he smiles.

finally.. finally, finally it was competition day. y/n changes into her costume and heads out and meets up with san. his eyes widen as he sees her costume. it was an icy white with a flowy skirt, rhinestones and glitter along the skirts edge and her sleeves. "wow you look incredible" san says his jaw practically on the floor. "thank you" she says, nervousness clear in her voice as it shook a bit as she replied. "you're going to do great y/n" san reassures her. "hope you're right"

y/n's name booms through the loudspeakers and y/n walks to the rink stepping on it carefully. the music she had been blasting in her ears for months played almost like a bittersweet reminder to all the work she had put into this piece. she skates around, salchow, upright spin, axel, double axel, lutz jump. she hears her music come to an end as she skates to the center of the rink before she lets herself take a breathe so much had happened in the span of a few months. she had gotten praised, yelled at, she met san.. oh san he changed her life for sure. there wasn't time to think about him now though. she takes a moment before clearing her head completely.

without a second thought she jumps to do her final move. the triple axel she worked her ass off perfecting. the scolding of her instructor runs through her ears but its quickly replaced by san's reassurance. within an instant she goes to do her triple axel almost bracing for impact assuming she’d fall but.. no she didn't. she landed perfectly.

before she knew it, it was over. there wasn't any reaction for a moment but suddenly she hears a cheer, she looks to the side to see san practically jumping out of his seat on the sideline. his cheers are followed by clapping from the audience. it was no standing ovation but y/n didnt need one to feel achieved.

she takes a bow practically bolting off as san was waiting for her his arms wide open. she practically jumps off the ice into his arms as they almost fall backwards but san holds them both flat on the ground. it was like the hug he gave her months ago when she sobbed in his arms but this one was different. she releases herself from the hug still in his arms. they look at each other before anyone could say a word she kisses him. without a second thought she presses her lips right onto his. he gasps in surprise at first but he recovers quickly kissing her right back. they finally pull away from the kiss as san slowly brings her down to the ground. "you did it" he exclaims excitedly. "I knew you could do it" he cheers.

the two grip each other's hands as the places are announced. from runner ups to third place, second place, and finally.. "a night to remember by y/n l/n!" the announcer says and san and y/n jump for joy. "holy shit i won" y/n says in almost disbelief. "of course you won" san smiles lifting her up in his arms again spinning her in circles.

the rink clears out and san goes to clean the ice. "victory lap?" he asks giggling as y/n nods with a big smile stepping onto the zamboni's edge. they talk as san cleans the ice going over the cracks and bumps made by all the skaters on the ice that day. he finishes cleaning helping y/n down as he parks it.

y/n walks out with her trophy in one hand and grips san's hand in the other one. they walk to san's car and he opens the door and helps her in before stepping into the drivers seat. "our show at my place?" he asks starting up the car. "I thought you'd never ask" she smiles.

tysm for reading! if you have any requests pls send them my way!!

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permanent written fics taglist: @yvnhoos @linearities @kattarrynnka @dalsuwaha @coffeewwithdrawlheadaches @wonderz-real @xh01bri @sparda1234 @crownj1min @spenceatiny18

@wooyoungsbrat @cryplnk @cosmicrecs

[olderthannetfic]

The Spotify Wrapped wank has died off, but I'm going to revive it for a second because the mechanisms of the wank itself are still bugging me.

The wanksters believed they had identifieed a problem in the aggregate, and decided to tackle it by addressing the individual.

They thought that if one analyzed all the wrapped lists, it would reveal that listeners avoid Black artists (they were working off of an idle assumption and had no numbers to back it, but this ask is about how they addressed the problem they thought existed; how to not freak out over made up bullshit would be another post).

So then to address what they believed to be a widespread cultural bias, they asked individual Spotify users to examine the trends in their own year-end lists, and use shame and guilt to get them to change their habits. And then the wank in your ask box was about how the end-of-year list doesn't actually show what they think it shows and that the initial hypothesis failed to account for factors like non-mainstream music and artists who are neither Black nor White and the fact that Spotify users often listen to music in more than one way.

But what's bugging me is that you got tons of people who did examine the bias in their end-of-year lists and were dismissed for it.

The one that stuck out to me was the anon who said there were tons of Black artists on their list because they listen to Jazz.

The wankers asked them to look at the list and feel shame and guilt for not having enough Black artists. They did as requested, they looked at the list and found too many Black artist to feel the requested emotions.

And then one of the wankers bit back with "Jazz is the least popular genre among Gen Z".

But that's not what they were asked to show, they were asked to examine bias in their *own* musical tastes. The wank was at odds with itself.

If the hypothesis was "certain Black-lead genres are losing popularity among Gen Z", an examination of Gen Z Spotify user's data could support that hypothesis, and the Jazzy anon would be either a tiny blip on the graph or would be too old to be included in the data.

But if the hypothesis is "you, personally, exibit bias in your our own musical taste" then you have to let someone say "I examined it and it's fine".

You also can't cherry pick only the data that does support your hypothesis. You have to actually count the Gen Z kids who love Jazz and see how few there actually are, you can't just chuck them out of your dataset because someone else's data tells you they're low on the graph.

It's like the "climate change is your fault because you chucked that one plastic bottle in the trash instead of the recycling" thing.

--

It's the usual thing where people are raging at systems they can't reach and decide to fight the other crabs in the bucket.

[artfightdramaconfessions]

I'm autistic and I have a really hard time expressing my feelings sometimes. I always say "thank you" to everyone who makes art for me and always try to add at least something about what I like about the piece. "I like how you shaded this piece!", "I love the way you drew her eyes!", "It looks really cool how you styled him!" etc. so it doesn't come off as just a generic copy/pasted "thanks I guess" because I do genuinely like these pieces.

But growing up I would always get shat on by my family for being "ungrateful" because I'd open up bday/Christmas presents and then basically react the same way. "Oh wow! This is that book I wanted! Thanks so much!" But because I wasn't jumping up and down, screaming and crying so hard I threw up because I was so happy and grateful to have this gift, I'd get labeled as "ungrateful". And because of that experience, even with me making that addition, I can't help but feel like people are reading it the same way sometimes. ;v;

But as I've gotten older, I've learned to ignore those feelings more. Sure, there are going to be assholes every now and then who are going to think I'm being "ungrateful" for not writing a 10-page essay on how much I love the art they made, but if they're going to get that upset at a simple "thank you", then that's their problem to deal with. I don't join Art Fight to seek validation from others and I shouldn't expect others in general to have joined for that reason either. As long as I am saying "thank you" and acknowledging the time and effort those artists put into drawing my characters, I think that should be good enough! After all, there's hundreds of thousands of characters on Art Fight, and they chose mine out of them all; that's pretty cool that I was able to inspire them like that!

But I guess in the end what I'm trying to say is to not get discouraged or feel like you're being ungrateful for not writing 10,000 word essays on how much you love the art you've gotten; a simple "thank you" is good enough and anyone who says otherwise is being a dick. And for the people who are getting upset that they "only" got a simple "thank you" and nothing more, consider that they struggle with expressing themselves like me? They might be mentally freaking out about how cool your piece was, but they don't know how to express that to you. Not getting 12 paragraphs of them gushing about the piece doesn't mean that they hate it or dislike it either.

(please keep me on anon)

.

[polyamorousmood]

It's not exactly poly-related, but I don't know other blog with life advices, so. Maybe you have an idea what to do with frustration from being the one "normal" between your friends and partners? I'm only one without any confirmed diagnosis (we have consensus that something definitely not right there, but no one can be sure if this an adhd or chronic tiredness or I'm just born this way etc). And in practice it means that I'm the one that should adapt to everyone's quirks. I'm the one that will make decisions when no one else can. I'll be cleaning because everyone's too depressed, I'll offer comfort when someone's triggered, I can't drop my work no matter what because everyone else disabled and can be unemployed for years, etc. Don't get me wrong, I like be the one that's stable and can help, I thrive on being useful. But also sometimes it's horrifies me that I don't have any room for error, not in small things (because what can be a small thing for me can badly trigger other person) and definitely not in big (because no one would be there to pick things up). I'm working two jobs now and still mostly the one that usually cleans and cooks and thinks about things like what we will gift to that or this friend and how to pay our credit card etc. And I understand that I'm in this position because others literally have it worse! But I'm at the point where small adjustments in plans makes me see red and it's not great for everyone. No I'm not utterly underappreciated and sometimes people drops "it must be hard for you" or "you probably disabled too I don't know how you handle it so well" into conversation, but it's not like words help when I literally need for people to just deal with at least some shit. Also yes I have some control freak tendencies but they are built on the experience thst people *won't* do shit or will do it incorrectly and I'll need to redo it anyway, so I can't just "let it go". No one there malicious and I *want* to be good and accepting friend and partner. I just really tired and don't know what to do.

yeahhhh you don't really go here [insert Mean Girls gif] I mean maybe you do but this isn't the thing I'm here for blah blah so no offense, but you're not getting my best, here

See a therapist, work on ✨️boundaries✨️

No one is going to die if the dishes go unwashed a couple days longer than they should. Having someone to lean on when triggered is really nice! But panic attacks do pass on their own sooner or later. They'll be okay if you don't intervene on half of them. It feels bad and shit - I PROMISE, I get it - but I spent 6 months being 24/7 support for a suicidal person, and (aside from ensuring physical safety) me being their didn't usually help them out of the really bad moods any faster! And sure, maybe it spirals a bit with other people in the mix. That shit happens. It's okay.

Secodarily. Look at life structures and CHANGE THEM.

They can't do the dishes? Not even with a stool to sit on and video playing on their phone? Nobody can? Well then FUCK dishes, this is a paper plate household now!!

Youre the only one who can cook? Maybe like, full meals. But someone there other than you can handle fucking frozen pizzas and a kitchen timer, or microwave meals. Stock up. Stock up on snacks that require no cooking - eating those as a meal a couple times a week won't kill anyone.

80% of household shit can be made much easier in this way if you just adjust your standards a bit

I mean no disrespect at all for anyone disabled. But the vast majority of disabilities still allow you to contribute something at least sometimes.

Quite frankly, if i were in your shoes, I'd pick a couple chores I know a couple others can help with and make a group announcement I won't be doing those anymore -- ever. If they don't get done, it's their problem now, you're sorry, but you're burnt out, and you can't help them if you have a mental break.

And that last part is true, so I'd do this sooner rather than later.

Either way, I feel for you and your whole group. It sounds less than ideal for everyone, and I hope you can find something more easily sustainable soon

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Sweetest treat; Fred Weasley x reader

*Author's note*

Now this was just a sweet little treat (haha see what I did there?) after viewing the James and Oliver Phelps tasting British candy video on youtube. Now as an American I can't describe the taste of the following candies I've done so to any Brit readers out there I apologize and if you want to reach out to me to tell me what these selected candies taste like to you, just give me a shoutout.

Not really any warnings here this is mostly a fluff piece but if I had to have some warnings it would only be mentions of Parental death and past mentionings of Umbridge. Other than that nothing else to be warned about, enjoy my darlings!

Taglist:

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@waddles03

@queen-paladin

@plethora-of-things

@psychosupernatural

@remussl0vers

_____________________________________________________

While it’s always felt like a home at Hogwarts, there’s just no place like home.  Especially when your home is just above a sweetshop just outside of Birmingham but that’s the perks of being a muggle-born witch.  My dad owns the sweetshop, in fact it’s been passed down in his family for nearly a century.  And sure while the Wizarding world has it’s own sweets and treats to thoroughly enjoy, I guess the nostalgia in me just can’t allow any wizard sweets to top the candies I’ve grown up with.

Which is why I always sneak some ‘muggle candy’ with me to Hogwarts every year and when I come home, I pick and choose what I’ll want to take for the next term.  And during the summer, my dad’s shop truly becomes the go-to for kids during the summer holiday which is why I help him out with the shop, especially since mum died last year.

I was currently doing some inventory and writing down what candies we needed to restock when there was a loud thump at the window.  I jumped at the sudden crash since there had been nothing but pure silence since closing up shop.  My dad rushed out from his office frantic and exclaimed.

“What the bloody hell was that?!” I went over to the window and let out a sigh of relief.

“It’s alright dad, it’s just Errol. The Weasley’s owl. Poor old bugger.” I walked outside the shop and knelt down beside him.  He lay there on the cement floor on his back with a letter in his beak.  “I swear Errol you’re hopeless. Nearly gave my dad a heart attack thinking someone was vandalizing the store.” I took the letter out of his beak and he soon recovered squawking.

I held arm out and he perched himself on my forearm and I adjusted him to my shoulder, his wings flapping and ruffing my hair as I went back inside.  I opened up the letter and I smiled warmly.

“Can’t your wizard friends use the phone like everyone else? Or use the normal mailing system?” asked dad.

“I told you dad, this is how the wizarding community sends messages. They forbid muggle means of communication. Kinda old school they are, much like you are with your filing system. I’m surprised you’re not using a computer to keep all the records together.”

“Touche you bring up a good point, darling. So who is it from? That lover boy of yours?” I shushed him and read the letter.

My beloved (Y/n),

I know you said you wouldn’t be able to come over for the yearly Weasley summer getaway, but you never said anything about any of us coming there.  I talked with mum and dad and they’ve allowed me to come and visit you for the week.  Perhaps you could educate me on why you believe your muggle sweets surpass our own (which I’ll still fight you on till my last breath).

And don’t worry, I’ll come the ‘normal muggle way’ don’t want your dad freaking out now do we with the fireplace like last time? Hope to hear back from you soon, it’s been lonely not having you in my arms.

The handsome twin,

Fred W.

P.S. Ignore what he just said and don’t mention this to him but I’m the better looking one and you know it.

From the real handsome twin,

George W.

Oh those boys.  I shook my head and said.

“Hey dad, Fred got his parent’s approval to stay with us for the week, is it okay with you?” dad let out a deep sigh as he put on his thinking face.  “Please, please?”

“I don’t know. Though I approve of you dating I just don’t know how to feel about having your boyfriend stay over.”

“C’mon dad. I promise no hanky-panky. I’ll even get him to help around the shop. No magic I promise.” I crossed my heart swearing by it.  He pondered the idea for a while but he kept his stoic face and that usually meant he could go either way with this decision.

“He takes the guest bedroom. And you two are not allowed to have the door shut when either of you are in a room together.”

“Deal. Oh thank you daddy!” I set Errol down on the checkout desk and ran up to my dad and hugged and kissed him.

“You’re welcome. But I’m trusting you two.”

“We swear, no hanky-panky.” I quickly went upstairs and wrote my response to Fred before sending it off with Errol.  God I hope that bird doesn’t get lost and keep him waiting too long.

A few days went by and as I was ringing up a few customer’s the bell chime over the door signified another costumer.

“Welcome to Nikki’s Candy shop I’ll be right with you. There you are lads, now don’t overdo it less you let your teeth rot.” I told the young boys as I handed them their candy basket and they raced out.  When I turned to the customer who had just entered, I was greeted with a familiar red-haired boy.

“If I didn’t know any better I’d say this was Honeydukes.”

“Well when this shop first opened, my great-great grandfather wanted to make sure that when the customers entered inside it was like entering a magical wonderland of sweets.” I came around the counter before wrapped my arms over Fred’s neck while his hands rested at my waist.  “I missed you.”

“Not as much as I missed you. How is it that you’ve turned me into such a sap?”

“Oh didn’t I tell you that my gran was part bunny? Whoops guess I left that detail out.” We both chuckled before softly kissing each other.  But a throat cleared sounded off behind us and there stood my dad.  Fred and I quickly separated and Fred greeted my dad.

“Hello again Mr. (L/n).”

“Hello Fred. While I don’t mind the fact that you’re dating my daughter, I kindly ask that you both keep your snogging to a minimum especially during business hours. Folks sometimes don’t take kindly to seeing that type of affection be displayed in public, especially in a food shop.”

“Yes sir. (Y/n) mentioned in her letter that you could use some help reshelving some inventory in the back room.”

“Yes, but first have you gotten settled into your room?” one thing about my dad is even when he’s in business mode, he’ll take the time to check up on you to make sure you’re okay.

“Yes sir, trunks all there and everything. And I solemnly swear it is in the guest bedroom you said I could use for the week.”

“Alright. Grab an extra apron just down the hall and get to work. (Y/n), you too. The McCallister’s should be in to pick up their birthday basket any minute now.”

“Got it dad.” He gave us a firm nod and a stern look that told us to not fool around anymore before he left to go back to the office.

“Wow, you were not kidding about your dad.” He whispered lowly.

“He’s had a lot on his plate. Ever since…..” I looked down solemnly.  It hurt that I couldn’t even leave Hogwarts for a few days to go to my mum’s funeral all because of Umbitch.  Fred came over and embraced me as he rubbed my arm comfortingly.  “I’m okay, even though I couldn’t go to the funeral, I at least got to say my goodbyes to her once school let out.”

“She was a nice woman. Her and mum got along fairly well whenever you guys came to join us for Christmas. She knows it wasn’t your fault.”

“I know. But it still hurt that I couldn’t say goodbye to her in her final moments. Epilepsy is rubbish Freddie.”

“I agree love it’s total rubbish.” I felt him kiss the top of my head and it was at that moment the bell chimed signaling the arrival of a costumer.  Quickly I put on a smile and went to greet the woman and gave her the birthday basket and continued to keep myself busy to distract me from my grief.

The work day continued to be busy just as it is every summer’s day but at the stroke of 6 o’clock, we closed up the shop and could finally eat some supper.  Dad and I warmed up some left over chicken and steamed vegetables.  As we all ate around the dinner table my dad said to Fred.

“So Fred, how goes your new shop? (Y/n) told me you boys had recently gotten the deed to the building in that magic corner of yours.”

“Yes sir, all the paperwork was finalized a few weeks ago. Our stocks are currently being madly produced at a good pace. Hopefully we’ll be able to be open for business just before the next term starts.”

“Got all the inspections checked and approved of?”

“Yes and we just completed the design for the front of the shop. It has our faces on it and every other time when the top hat comes up, a rabbit will disappear and reappear.”

“Impressive. Good thing I don’t have to compete with you boys, you’d run me out of house and home.”

“Not a chance Mr. (L/n). Kids still need their sweets.”

“Guys, no business at the dinner table.” I gently reprimanded but it kinda hurt to say that since that’s what mum used to say whenever dad got too deep into the business outside working hours.  He could do whatever he wanted when it came to running the shop after work hours but whenever it was meal time, business needed to stay out of the dining table.

“Sorry poppet.” Dad apologized.

“Sorry love.” Fred replied before we continued eating and discussing things outside of work.  Once we were done with our meal, I gathered up all the dishes and got them cleaned up and set to dry.  As I came back toward the dining room, I saw my dad and Fred shaking hands before he left to head back downstairs to his office.

“What was all that for?” I asked.

“Nothing big. Said that if Georgie and I ever ran into any business trouble whether for contracts or faulty inspections to give him a call. Even though the wizarding community and muggle world is different there is a commonality between the two. And that’s when it comes to starting up a business.” I smiled softly and said.

“C’mon, I think now’s a good a time for your muggle education on candy.”

“Lead the way milady.” I headed lead him towards the guest room and we got him set up and ready for his education.

In the guest room, all of Fred’s stuff was now unpacked and the two of us were in our lounge clothes with sweets both wizard and muggle treats scattered across his bed.

“Now the first lesson of your muggle candy education is the best way to start a conversation when you go to the Underground, mention the price for this guy.” I held up a Freddo caramel bar.

“Freddo the frog?”

“Correct. And what’s cool is he’s like the mascot of Birmingham because this is where his candy originated from the company Cadbury.” I unwrapped the chocolate frog from his wrapper and commented, “Ohh it’s melting already. That makes the caramel inside taste even better. Try it.” I held the Freddo bar out to Fred and he took it.

“I’m kinda left disappointed that he’s not coming to life like our chocolate frogs can.”

“Well not everyone likes live frogs hopping around. And if you were asked to eat one even if it’s chocolate covered most wouldn’t. But I promise you Fred, it’s worth it.” He took a bite and chewed it up before I saw his eyes go wide.  “Didn’t I tell you?”

“That is actually really good. But still not as enjoyable as the classic chocolate frog.” He said holding up the case for it and handed it to me.

“First time you and George tricked me into eating it.”

“I swear never did I think I’d hear someone who could out scream my own mum.” I shoved him with my foot and I opened it up and the magical frog leapt out at me but I grabbed it before it could land on my face and bite it in half.  “But I will admit you are right. The caramel really does compliment the chocolate of this Freddo so that gives him some points for lack of being alive.”

“And I gotta admit, the cards inside really do make the frogs worth stuffing your face for.” After eating the second half of my frog I took out the card and said, “Another Professor Minnie. Best add her to the other 15 I’ve got of her.” Fred finished his Freddo bar and licked his fingers clean.

“As you’ve come to learn and love, there’s nothing better than gambling your friends into eating something revolting or sweet than the Bertie’s Botts every flavour beans.” He held up the box and took his gamble with a bean.  “Huh, earwax. Hadn’t had one of those in years.”

“I still can’t believe that you actually ate a boogey flavor one once.”

“I swear by it. Worse thing I’ve ever tasted.”

“Uh-uh, the worst flavor is vomit.” I disagreed with him.

“I’d take a vomit flavour over a boogey flavor. At least with vomit I’d know it’d taste like what I had just eaten.” I groaned in disgust.

“Why do you have to say stuff like that around me?”

“Because I know it disgusts you and you look cute when you scrunch your face like that.” He teased as he gave my knee a squeeze.  I let out a yelp and quickly covered my mouth.

“Fred Weasley don’t you dare.” I threatened.

“Or what love?” he challenged as he eyed me mischievously  with the smirk.

“I’m not alone this time around.”

“Clever girl.” He released his grip on my knee and I reached out and grabbed the bag of wine gums.

“Now these require a unique taste. My dad really loves them but I can tolerate them occasionally. Wine gums. Got different flavours and sorts and each color represents a different wine brand. But despite their name they don’t actually contain any alcohol. Yellow, orange and brown for rum, black for port, green and beige for cider, and red for claret.”

“Shame that they don’t actually taste like the muggle alcohol they name them after.”

“Yeah well can’t have underaged drinking for kids who eat these. London’s already filled with bad drivers already don’t need them to get any worse, especially if they’ve got the munchies.”

“The what?”

“Nothing, don’t worry about it.” I tore open the bag and took Fred’s hand and poured out a small handful of wine gums into his palm while I grabbed the Bertie’s bean box.  Together both he and I took a bite of a random sweet but I immediately spat it out.  “Ugh gross! Vomit flavour! Fred Weasley I swear if you jinked me to eat a vomit flavour sweet first you’re sleeping on the couch.”

“I am deeply offended that you’d think I’d do such a thing!” he gasped dramatically holding his hand to his chest.  I closed the box and tossed it aside as I grabbed a tea cake and unwrapped it before shoving the whole thing in my mouth.  The marshmallow and chocolate immediately over compassing the vomit taste in my mouth.  “You are an odd one.”

“Odd? You’re the one whose opening the joke shop.” I said through my chewing.

“I thought a lady doesn’t talk with their mouth full?” I wagged my finger at him in disagreement.

“Mmm. I maybe a girl but I am no lady, Umbitch saw to that.” I said after finally swallowing the tea cake.  Fred scooted closer to me taking my left hand and stroked the back of my left hand that once had I MUST ACT LIKE A LADY scarred into my skin.

“I would’ve done far worse to her if I could. George would too.”

“I know you boys would. But no sense in throwing yourselves in Azkaban for my sake.”

“We’d still do it.” I smiled softly and gave the tip of his nose a soft kiss.  “What was that you had just a second ago?”

“A tea cake. Don’t ask why they call it that cause it doesn’t really go with tea nor is it a cake. Best way I can compare it to is they’re like the chocoballs on the trolley. A marshmallow sitting on top of a crisp biscuit and covered in chocolate.” I handed him another tea cake while I grabbed another one.  We both unwrapped our tea cakes and this time I bit into it half way as did Fred.

“Mmm that is good.” He said through his chewing.

“My mum always made the best ones. She even knicked a recipe from my aunt in America where instead of a marshmallow my aunt uses blended oreos.”

“Now that is something I’d like to try. Think you’d be able to make some?”

“Don’t you remember the last time I got near a stove at your house?”

“Right yeah. At least mum didn’t blow her top off knowing it was you. Had it been either Georgie or I we’d be six feet under.”

“Now for this last sweet treat, I want you to do something for me first.”

“And what might that be?”

“Close your eyes.”

“The last time someone asked me to do that, I ended up being shoved into a closet with a dungbomb.”

“Yeah well I’m not Lee. Just trust me on this babe.” He looked at me but with one loving gaze up at him, I knew I had him at the palm of my hand.  He closed his eyes and I took the Cadbury dairy milk bar and unwrapped it.  “Open your mouth.” I told him and he opened his mouth letting out an ‘ahhh’ to which I rolled my eyes playfully and placed the bar in his mouth.

He then began chewing the chocolate bar the second he felt it on his tongue.  His eyes opened wide for a second as his facial expression turned to pure satisfaction and he let out a loud moan.

“Oh Godric…..”

“I told you. Cadbury is the best chocolate in the world. Eating these bars really make me feel like a kid again. Pre-Hogwarts days.” I took a bar for myself and unwrapped it and placed it between my teeth.  I then felt Fred’s fingers underneath my chin and he turned me to face him.  Keeping hold of my chin between his fingers, he leaned right into my face taking the other half of my bar between his teeth and snapped it in half before eating his half of my chocolate bar.

I let out a small squeak and actually dropped my half of the bar and even though my heart was racing at what he had just done and my cheeks were probably as red as the Gryffindor colors I snapped at him.

“Fredick Gideon Weasley, how dare you—” he cut me off with a kiss.  His hand that held my chin now moved to the back of my neck gently stroking or rubbing certain spots that made me weak in the knees.  With one pressure point he knew that would get me to open my mouth, his tongue soon slipped into my mouth and our tongues soon danced with each other.

After our intense snogging and the desperate need for air became too great, Fred separated from me, the two of us panting softly and he licked his lips.

“Now that was by far the sweetest treat I’ve had.” I snorted softly as I shook my head at him.

“I really have turned you into a softie.”

“If you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”

“Everyone but George. He’s always going on how you’re whipped for me.”

“I swear he’s a liar. In fact did you know that it was actually him that switched your muggle marshmallows with that canary cream?”

“He didn’t.” I said exasperatedly.

“Oh yes, saw him do it with my own eyes.”

“And you didn’t think to try and warn me about it?” I asked backing out of his arms and crossed my arms over my chest.  Fred then began stammering out an excuse while I arched my brow at him.

“You’ve got to admit it, you did sound adorable making those canary sounds.” I didn’t flinch.  “I’m going to be sleeping on the couch as you once said, aren’t I?”

“I might be able to overlook this matter, if you help me come up with a revenge prank on him.”

“Did I tell you how much I love you?”

“Not nearly enough.” I said with a shrug.

“Then I’ve got a whole week to not only say it repetitively, but also might have some ideas you can pull on Georgie the next time you’re around.” He pulled me back into his lap and captured my lips in a softer, more loving kiss.  “We were truly made for each other.” He whispered against my lips.

“Like chocolate and caramel.” I whispered back before leaning back and deepening our kiss once again.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

Hi! I would like to know what you think about the Z/tara opinion that using photos and cultural elements of Tibetan monks to create Kataang content is unacceptable behavior? (I sent this question to you and another person whose opinion I am interested in)

1 - Hilarious that they're offended at REAL MONKS having fun just because someone was reminded of Aang. God forbid they're not just meditating all day and are instead still acting as PEOPLE who simply have a spiritual belief they hold dear to their hearts.

2 - Aang might never have "broken" a celibacy vow because we never get confirmation that he ever took one in the first place. It's a work of fantasy that NEVER promised to be super accurate, we can't just assume that (and the whole "Literal last survivor" gives him an out anyway).

3 - Atla fans in general don't get to bitch about "This isn't accurate to this culture" because THE ENTIRE SHOW is about taking pieces of asian cultures, mixing them together, changing stuff, removing stuff, adding stuff, etc. And I'd personally say it's all fine because there's literally not a single work of fantasy that doesn't take up myths, vibes and, yes, even "sacred" elements from a TON of different cultures. Cultural appropriation is a NEUTRAL, inevitable thing because humanity isn't split in secluded islands with no awareness of the outside world. It only becomes bad when it's used for mockery or by someone who wants to pretend to be something they'renot.

4- Zutara fans cannot act like sexualizing tibetan stuff is morally reprehensible when they sexualize the fuck out every culture that inspired the Fire Nation, mainly Japan. Either both are fine or both are disrespectful. Be consistent or shut the fuck up.

5 - There is not a single holy thing that a human being won't look at and go "That's hot." There's a reason porn with priests, nuns, or set in churches are a thing. Freaking mormon porn is a thing. Hijab porn is a thing. For fuck's sake, classic paintings of myths in which the whole point is "This dude saw a goddess naked and was punished horribly for it" or "This nymph is running away from this God that won't take no for an answer" always show off said goddess/nymph's beauty and full nude body because PEOPLE BE INTO HOLY THINGS BEING MADE UNHOLY SINCE FOREVER!

No one is obligated to like it or be comfortable with it, especially when it happens to their own religion, BUT it is downright inevitable. Anything with super strict rules will immediately give people ideas of all the scandalous ways said rules could be broken. That's why we still have period-piece romances in which super normalized things like sex before marriage are obviously treated as taboo again.

NOTHING is too sacred to be sexualized, get over it. Humanity's collective mind is permanently in the gutter, it's in our goddamn nature at this point, and if you claim you're the exception, you're a fucking liar.

[lsunstreakerl]

The SH but if gp had a gun changed me, I need more.

using your ask to add this little snippet for the Lewis and Fernando fans! 900 words, rookie year MCL Lewis POV! hey! this is part of the darkbull universe, so it's a lil bit violent. if you're cool with that, keep reading <3

Lewis looks up from where he's unpacking his suitcase as his hotel room door beeps open. Nico steps inside, eyes wide as he shuts the door behind him.

"Nico?"

He takes a few steps forward, shoving Lewis' phone into a pile of clothes with his own, before dragging Lewis out of the room.

"Nico- Nico slow down-"

"Shut up."

Lewis snaps his mouth shut as Nico tugs them down the stairs and into a maintenance closet, clicking it shut behind them as he presses his ear to the side, listening.

Lewis is not freaking out. He's not. They can't both be freaking out, and clearly Nico is, which means Lewis needs to be the calm one here, even if his best friend is having a complete mental break.

Finally Nico turns back to him. His eyes are still slightly wild as he runs his hands down Lewis' arms, fingers tapping behind his ears.

"You don't have any weird injuries right? No unexplainable scratches?"

"Nico- what? No, man."

Lewis is so confused.

Nico breaths out a sigh.

"Okay. I need to talk to you, before I can't. You signed with McLaren, yeah?"

"How the fuck do you know about that-"

The ink on Lewis' contract isn't even dry yet. There's no way any other team should know about it. Certainly not Williams.

"That's not important. Lewis- Formula One isn't like karting, and McLaren is one of the worst, you need to-"

Nico runs his hands down Lewis' arms again, thumbs pressing into the inside of his wrists.

"You need to be careful."

Yeah, careful with Nico as he drives him to a hospital. Lewis turns his hands so that they're gripping Nico's, leaning their foreheads together.

"Nico, I'll be okay. I promise."

Nico takes a shaky breath, squeezing his eyes shut.

"You can't trust them Lew, you can't. Promise me you won't trust them."

Lewis is genuinely concerned now.

"Okay, Nico. I won't, I promise."

Nico nods. He's still trembling a bit, but he squeezes Lewis' hands.

"Once I get to Mercedes- we'll come get you, I swear. Just give me a few years, that's all I need."

"Of course I want to drive together."

Nico frowns, eyes bright when he looks at Lewis.

"That's not what I'm saying. Don't trust them, Lewis. Any of them."

------

Over the course of Lewis' first year, he'd managed to put the whole incident out of his mind. Sure, McLaren is weird- they're a bit twitchy, and sometimes when Fernando has conversations with shareholders or Ron Lewis it feels like there's a second conversation happening, one he doesn't understand.

But other than that, things are normal. It's not near as weird as some of the other garages. Ferrari keeps their secrets and their drivers close to their chest. Williams seems too happy and put together. Redbull is-

Actually, Redbull is pretty normal too, from what Lewis can see. As normal as a team named after an energy drink can be, anyways.

He's honestly kind of forgotten about it as he's getting ready to leave one of the bars the team had crashed. Normally he tries to find someone to take to bed with him, since Nico had apparently decided they couldn't talk anymore after Lewis made it to Formula 1, but he wasn't feeling it tonight.

It's only when he's getting to the doorway that he feels an arm warm on his elbow, and he turns with surprise, makes eye contact with pretty brown eyes and sunkissed skin.

He thinks it might be one of Ferrari's tire gunners.

The man smiles at him, easy and friendly, and Lewis thinks maybe he's scored after all.

"Going home alone?"

Lewis grins back, winking.

"Hopefully not anymore."

They have their hands on each other as they leave the bar, and Lewis barely registers that they're stumbling into an alleyway until-

There's cool metal pressed against his temple.

"Put your hands up."

Lewis is frozen. He's suddenly ice cold, and the front of his shirt is unbuttoned, and he's being held at fucking gunpoint. He was tipsy when he left the bar, but right now he's not sure he's ever been more sober in his life.

He shakily raises his hands up. The mechanic isn't smiling anymore, eyes cold where he's looking at Lewis.

"You'll be a problem if we don't handle you, Hamilton."

Lewis swallows. There's gotta be a way out of this, and then he'll go straight to Maranello, tell them to get a better screening process so they don't hire insane gunman-

"We try not to kill drivers, but I was told to make an exception for you. Any last words?"

Lewis opens his mouth. To beg, to plead, to scream, to try and talk his way out of the situation- he doesn't know. All he knows is that he opens his mouth, and there's a sharp cracking noise splitting the night sky.

He drops to the ground immediately, eyes squeezing shut, waits for the pain to hit, waits for his brain to let him know hey you just got shot!

Nothing.

He hears footsteps walk towards him, unhurried.

"Stupid rookie. Your boyfriend warned you, no?"

Fernando.

Lewis sits up, palms scraping against the pavement as Fernando tucks the gun into the front of his waistband, hauling Lewis to his feet.

"Alonso- what-"

Fernando tuts at him, brushing gravel off of his cheek.

"Stupid, stupid rookie."

Lewis inadvertently looks over at the Ferrari mechanic, sees him laid out prone on the pavement, dark maroon slowly seeping into the ground.

Lewis throws up.

[a3rosp4ce]

consider: katsuki modeling for a magazine in unusually revealing clothing. when the magazine came out a few days ago, both fans and non-fans were sent into chaos. katsuki couldn't care less though. the only person on his mind was izuku, who katsuki intentionally didn't tell just to see him freak out. obviously he gets pissy when he finds out izuku didnt even hear about it, much less get a copy.

---

[on the phone]

izuku: japan's top heroes magazine?

katsuki: it came out two days ago. i can't believe of all people your nerdy ass didn't hear about it.

izuku: ahh.. sorry, kacchan. work has been so busy. i wasn't even aware you modelled for the front cover..

katsuki, scoffing: its whatever. i look the same as always do anyway so.

izuku, sounding apologetic: at least i still have the real version with me, right? i think a few sheets of paper can't ever compare, hehe

katsuki, face warm as he rolls his eyes: you sure know how to flatter.

---

so imagine katsuki's reaction when later that same day, after an impromptu decision to drop by izuku's place after patrol, he sees stacks and stacks and stacks of said magazine under izuku's bed. cue a flustered izuku running in to stop katsuki from seeing, but its too late. katsuki quickly realizes that izuku was lying the entire time when he sees the quality of these magazines, remembering that they released around 40 limited edition copies with shiny covers. izuku has 39.

katsuki turns to look at him with an amused expression, eyebrows raised and the corners of his mouth upturned as he laughs out, "fucking pervert."

"kachaaaan..." izuku groans out of embarrassment, face in his hands as he wishes katsuki would forget ever seeing this side of him.