#SO OPENLY SMILING SO YOUNG AGAIN JUST HAVING FUN!

[yamumsyadadd]

We meet again

a/n: talks of homophobia, ignore this if that isn’t your thing.

happy New Year’s Eve, it’s 9pm where I live so this will be my last fic of 2024 ;) stay safe, have fun!

It was a warm evening in Barcelona when I saw you again. I still loved you, not that you ever really knew, or maybe you did. 

You were sitting there in the restaurant with your friends. I was there too, waiting for a guy I barely knew but was giving a chance because my father had begged me to. 

It was the same routine. Giving them a ‘chance’ knowing I’d stopped talking to them. I started to realise that I was waiting for you. A forbidden love. 

You hadn’t noticed me yet, I of course noticed you, I always did. My date arrived and we sat down. He was different to you, they all were. Blonde, clean cut, men. I tried not to glance over at you. 

I engaged in conversation, I smiled, I laughed. I did everything you’re supposed to do on a date. But I couldn’t help stealing glancing at you. 

You got up to use the bathroom and as you walked by my table, that’s when you finally saw me. You stopped dead in your tracks, then slowly made your way to me. 

“Hey I’m sorry for interrupting, I didn’t see you walk in. How are you?” You asked, eyes genuine, truly curious. 

“Oh I’m good. I didn’t see you either!” I laughed even though it was a lie, somehow I find you in every room, every stadium. 

You look at my date and introduce yourself, you never need an introduction, everyone knows who you are but you do it anyway. “I was just heading to the restroom but let’s catch up soon.” You smiled, the kind of smile that isn’t real, just polite. 

“Yeah let’s.” You walk away, and I allow myself to breathe again. I smile at my date and we continue on. I keep thinking about you, I must be a horrible person. A good looking, well educated man sitting in front of me and all I can think about is you, you with the tattoos, the long black hair and cocky smile. The fingers that can make me forget my name. 

When you get back to your seat, we make eye contact, you smile then turn back to your friends. I recognise them all, how could I not. Alexia sits with Olga, Irene with Lucia, Patri and Claudia huddled together listening to whatever drama Maria and Leila have to share. 

There’s this weird thing about loving someone who you never got to love openly. A frightening feeling that your feelings won’t be shared. And a harbouring desire to scream them at you. 

It becomes suffocating knowing it is everything you want but wanting to protect your heart because you’re tired of people not feeling them same or being ashamed. Jenni loved the same way you did, loud, unapologetic and all consuming. No man your father picks could do that. Because no man was Jenni. 

Because of that, it becomes easier to stay quiet. To love from afar, scrolling through her instagram late at night, the shared photos, the messages. To love from a distance is to play it safe. 

My date eventually comes to an end. We get up and walk out, you’re still there laughing loudly. I look back at you one more time and then leave with him. 

I say goodbye to my date, thank him for dinner. He’s a nice guy, and will make a girl happy but he isn’t you. No one is. I don’t know what I’m waiting for, I guess I’m always waiting for you, I shouldn’t though because you won’t come. You never do. 

As I continue my walk home, my phone chimes with a message. I pulled it out, expecting it to be from one of the girls asking about the date, but it’s from you. You texted me a simple ‘get home safe.’ 

I smile, eyes skimming past our last exchange. I text back a simple ‘I will thank you.’ I watch as you start to type more, then it disappears. I convince myself it’s nothing and continue on home and I think about you. I wonder if you think about me too. 

—————————————————————————

It was a tumultuous relationship. Plagued by fighting and jealousy. You were young, only 20 when you met her at some gala your parents were throwing. She was older, closer to 30 than you were to your teenage years. 

You’d seen her before, at one of the many parties your parents had through. She always excluded the same energy, she knew she was hot, and that made her cocky. Always with the same group of people, who you’d come to learn was the football team your parents loved. 

It was the third party they attended that you finally met. You were forced into conversation at the bar, you knew from that first interaction that you were doomed. 

Being gay wasn’t something that was spoken about within your family, they all knew but chose to ignore it. The phrase ‘you just haven’t met the right man’ was burned into your brain. Maybe you hadn’t, but you didn’t want to wait and find out. 

After the last party of the year, that happened to be the Christmas party, you left with her. the way her hand felt on your lower back, the grip her fingers had on your exposed skin, the way she made you chant her name like she was a god. It was addicting. 

Your friends hated her. While she was never outwardly rude to them, you’d always run to them after a fight. Telling them everything she said, leaving out how you were just as bad. But that’s what friends were for, right? 

Most of her friends discouraged the relationship, Jenni loved loudly and unapologetically, you did not. It was two different words, she was a star footballer, older and wiser. You were just some rich kid who had barely started their adult life. 

After a toxic and bitter end to the 18 month relationship, she left for Mexico. Not even bothering to say goodbye. Your heart shattered into pieces. The final words she spoke to you playing over in your mind for months. 

“I’m done loving someone who won’t love me back.” It’s not that you didn’t love her, the opposite in fact, it was that you never said it. She said it within the first few months, and every time it filled you with a sense of dread. 

How would you explain it to your family? The consequences of your love would outweigh anything else, so you kept quiet. 

The multiple parties a year continued on, the Barcelona players continued to come and you’d do everything in your power to steer clear of them. Occasionally it wouldn’t work and you’d be stuck with some of them for a photo or whatever. Alexia and Irene watched you sympathetically, you hated it. 

————————————————————————

Jenni’s pov 

The air in the restaurant was charged. Like two magnets trying to join each other but I couldn’t figure why, until I saw you. 

At first I didn’t think it was you. It had been two years since I last saw you. You were older now, more elegant, still as beautiful as ever maybe even more. But then I realised you were with someone. 

A man, who was the complete opposite of me. He was blonde, no doubt rich, clean cut and probably reached of over priced cologne.

I realised, half way to the bathroom that I’d have to walk past you to get there and took a chance. 

“Hey, I’m sorry for interrupting, I didn’t see you walk in. How are you?” I asked. 

“Oh I’m good! I didn’t see you either.” You laughed and looked down. You were lying. Anytime you lied, you would look down and fidget. It was your tell. 

I introduced myself to your date, wanting nothing more than to be polite but I couldn’t help but feel jealous. For the entire 18 months of our relationship, this is what I wanted. To take you out on dates in the fancy clothes and enjoy the overpriced wine. But he got to instead. 

“I’m just heading to the restroom but let’s catch up soon.” I said, giving a small smile. 

“Yeah let’s.” I turned around and continued on to the bathroom. Gripping the sink tightly to calm myself down. It was ridiculous that after all this time, after all the girls, I still wanted you. I still loved you. 

When I returned to the table, I couldn’t help but look over at you and to my surprise you looked back at me. As I turned back to the girls, all I could think about was you. How it would feel to love you loudly like you deserved, to show you off to everyone. It wouldn’t happen though, it couldn’t. 

Most nights, from the comfort of my apartment in Mexico, I’d scroll through your burner instagram account. The one you parents didn’t know you had, it only had a select few on it and I’d like to think you kept me there for a reason, but it was likely you just forgot. 

I watched you leave with him, his hand sprawled across the small of your back like mine used too. You looked back a final time and then you were gone. Out of sight, but not out of mind. 

I took a few minutes before pulling out my phone, rereading the last few messages we had sent each other before sending a simple ‘get home safe.’ You replied quickly, you always did. I wanted to say more, tell you everything that had happened in the last 2 years, how much I still loved you, how no one was you, but I couldn’t. 

When Leila made a joke about me texting a girl, I shook my head and put my phone away. Alexia must’ve seen, giving my shoulder a squeeze and a sad smile. 

You were the one that got away. Maybe it’s better to love you from afar, I wish you nothing but happiness, even if that means finding happiness from someone else. 

—————————————————————————

The first party of the summer had arrived. As always it was a full on affair. Your parent’s house was decked out, over the top in your opinion. The older you got, the more insufferable these parties became. 

Other businessmen bought their wives and children, both the men’s and women’s team were there, celebrating the end of the season and their spectacle winning run. 

Tuxedos and ball gowns littered the main floor and the garden but you were stuck upstairs. A heavy weight weighing on your heart. You knew, the minute you went downstairs your father would try and introduce you to a man, your mother would be making comments about your appearance and your aunts would join in. 

The sound of knuckles on the door pulled you out of your thoughts. A few seconds later she was there, leaning on the doorway. Her usual cockiness was gone and replaced with what seemed to be anxiety. 

“Thought I’d find you here.” 

“What are you doing here? I thought you’d be in Mexico already?” 

“And miss this? Absolutely not.” She studied you with ease, reading you like a book, “your father is waiting for you. He has some guy he wants to introduce you too.” 

“Of course he does.” You stood up, smoothing down your dress. 

“Why don’t they stick?” Perhaps it was a thought she meant to keep in her head or she was actually curious. 

“What?” 

“The guys your father introduces you too? Why don’t they stick? You’re smart, elegant, attractive, so why don’t they stick?” 

“I don’t know.” You looked down towards the floor again. You knew, she knew, but she wanted you to say it. 

“You’re lying. Why don’t they stick?” She cocked an eyebrow, waiting for your reply. 

“Because none of them are you.” 

It was her turn to ask, and with bated breath she did, “what?” 

“None of them are you Jenni! You think I didn’t love you but I did! I do! My father can set me up with a hundred men but that’s a hundred people that aren’t you. So that’s why they don’t stick, because they aren’t you.” 

Her long legs crossed the room in what seemed to be milliseconds. Her lips smashed onto yours, hands holding your face tightly. It took a moment to register what was happening but when it did you couldn’t help up pull her closer. 

It could’ve been seconds or minutes that you were stuck in this battle of tongues and teeth but when the door opened you shoved her away from you, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 

Your aunt Elsa was standing there, out of all the people she was the best one to catch you. Her own family, your father, considered her the black sheep of them family. Never fitting into the mould, wild and free. Loving whoever she wanted, loudly and unapologetically. It’s what you admire the most about her. 

“Your father is about to come up here and get you. You have two options.” You stared at her, confused, “option 1, you leave this room, separately and go enjoy the party. Option 2, you leave this room together, your father would be mad, your mother disappointed, the countless men waiting to meet you too. If you chose option 2, I have a friend in Mexico who can give you a place to stay, because you’ll need it. The fall out from this won’t be good. If you chose option 1, then we can walk out together, I won’t say anything ever and we’ll just pretend.” 

“I don’t want anyone else.” You blurted out, “I’ll have nothing. If I leave I have nothing.” 

“You’ll have me.” Jenni spoke up, “I can support us both, you can live with me.” 

“What if this doesn’t work out? What if it’s too good to be true?” 

“You won’t know unless you don’t try calabaza. If it truly doesn’t work out, then I’m still here. Being the black sheep.” Your aunt winked at you. “Take care of her Jennifer. I have a lot of money and can find you very quickly.” With that she left, you could hear her in the hallway, ushering your father back downstairs. 

“I’m scared.” It came out as a whisper. 

“I know. I am too. But we can do it together. If you don’t want to come to Mexico, you can stay at my apartment in Madrid or we can figure something out. Please just give us a shot. A proper shot.” It wasn’t often that Jenni begged for anything, usually she’d flash her charismatic smile and people would do as she asked. 

“Okay.” 

You left the room, together, hand in hand ready to face whatever was going to happen. The unknown is terrifying. You didn’t know how it would work with Jenni, what the future held, but she was there in your ear calming you down. 

When your father pulled you away she followed, when he exploded saying the relationship wasn’t right, she was there. She stood up for you against your parents, that’s when you realised you shouldn’t have waited so long. 

At the end of the day, all you needed was Jenni. It didn’t matter that your parents barely spoke to you, or that you were outcasted from your family. What mattered was right in front of you. 

[usertoxicyaoi]

"Why are you smiling?"

THE ON1Y ONE (2024). EPISODE SEVEN.

[timmydraker]

Tim calls a family meeting and everyone is assuming he’s got a big case he needs help with, which is alarming for someone who refuses to admit that some cases are beyond him.

So, everyone shows up at the cave only to be ordered upstairs by Alfred. For those who only showed up to make fun of Tim for needing help, this is confusing because case work ain’t allowed upstairs.

All do them figure out quickly that this means it’s not to do with Gotham or Ref Robin, but the man behind the mask.

Bruce and Dick were there first and because Damian is always with one of them, so is he.

Steph picks up Barbara and Cass, with Duke already at home and Jason showing up at the same time as Kate and Lucius.

When they all get into the lounge room used for when people are over, just two doors down from the actual family room, they all find themselves chatting casually as they stave off their own worries or confusion. Some of them try find out if anyone knows what’s going on, but when Alfred and Barbara reveal they have no idea, they give up and make a few guesses but no more.

When Tim finally comes in after Alfred received him, he looks tired.

It’s not usual for Tim to get distracted with work and not sleep for a while, but he will conk out for hours when he decides to and wake up alright.

The bags under his eyes, the redness within them, and the way he looks close to tucking himself into a ball…

Bruce is immediately leaning forward, opening his mouth to make sure his son is okay but Tim just raised a hand to silence him. “Just… just let me speak, okay? I need to do it now or I’m not going to be able to.”

Everyone gives him a nod or look of understanding, making him twitch a smile before inhaling deeply and psyching himself up.

“I have cancer.”

…

Nobody speaks as Tim exhales shakily.

Everyone is staring wide eyed at the young man before them, who just reached the legal drinking age, and trying to asses his physical form for an understanding of what he just said. They’re all trying to gain X-ray vision to see exactly what is hurting him all while trying to convince themselves they heard him wrong.

Tim closes his eyes and speaks automatically, leaning into facts like he always does when he’s freaking out, “I noticed I was getting by more tired and fatigued around last year. My doctor said I have a low white cell count but he wasn’t alarmed as it was still in the normal range. But a few months ago I started to note that bruises were taking far too long to heal and I was getting a lot of pain around my joints and bones.”

He inhaled again, shakier than before at the same time that Alfred sits himself down with a hand over his mouth.

“It’s stage 2 and because of my lack of a spleen it’s going to be a harder process for treatment but fortunately I own a medical company so there’s that at least.” He makes a sort of joking smile that falters immediately, falling into a pulled back frown that comes with someone whose about to sob as he adds, “But it’s also aggressive so I-I don’t know how-how to-fuck-“

Dick and Cass are immediately moving off the couches they are on and catch him as he finally crumbles into himself.

Bruce is next to follow, the stoic man openly crying for the first time in years.

Jason and Damian are in shock, both frozen in place as dread takes over their minds.

Steph is looking out the window, as if staring at some kind of his or deity and demanding an expiration as to why they have to hurt her loved ones so badly. She’s crying, but it’s silent which is all the more harrowing.

Lucius places a hand on Alfred’s shoulder to comfort the elder even as he himself itches to go comfort the young boy who helped him run the company when he was at his worst.

Kate leaves the room to go call Bette, needing her mentor because this is just something she can’t handle.

Duke is sobbing into his hands as he leans into Barbara’s lap. Barbara who is clinging to him like a lifeline as she feels her world shift once again, feeling so angry and confused at how one of them could be threatened like this. Of all the ways they could go out, was it really going to be cancer?

It was a harrowing experience for all of them to remember that they were human in more than just their flesh being able to bleed and be wounded, but for it to grow sick. For it to age and attack itself.

They were human at the end of the day and Tim…

In Metropolis, Clark Kent rushed into the bathroom at his work to throw up as he heard a conversation miles away.

[emeritusemeritus]

Hi! I love your writings! I’m obsessed with jealous fred weasley so if you could write a one shot with whatever you’d like :)))

(If you hate just ignore pls lol)

Hi love! Thank you so much, this has been a lot of fun to write. I’ve been sat watching Goblet of Fire, took one look at Fred in this scene and knew it just had to be long hair Freddie because it makes me feral. Hope you enjoy! 🖤

Warnings: bit of swearing, mild sexual references. Fred gets jealous and a little possessive. Talks of marriage. Sorry McLaggen I needed a villain.

Word count: 1k

A cold heart and a warm jumper

Jealousy wasn't something Fred Weasley ever felt.

He knew his family weren't rich, that they'd never have the best of anything or anything new in abundance and so from a young age, he'd made peace with it and learned not to envy others. Being one of seven kids and most importantly a twin in a family that was already stretched both financially and emotionally, he'd had to learn to share, virtually from the day he was born. He'd shared clothes, toys, his room, practically his entire life with George, even a uterus and placenta, though he didn't care to think about that.

But now, watching Cormac McLaggen leering over the one thing in his life that he absolutely refused to share, he felt the unfamiliar rise of the green eyed monster throughout his entire body.

Godric he hated that slimy little prick. With his stupid blonde curls and the smug little smile that Fred really wanted to slap off his face right now, regardless of his rich daddy and any consequences that would inevitably follow.

The common room was a blaze with celebration, Harry’s victory in joint first place of the first task had been wildly celebrated by each and every Gryffindor and even Ron had joined in after being such a miserable git for a month. But even with the chaos and jubilant celebration around him, as well as a decent profit they’d made on taking the bets during the task, Fred was not in the mood for a party.

Despite it being the end of November, Fred’s striped jumper and beige overcoat suddenly felt like they were suffocating him as he stared at the corner where McLaggen leaned suggestively ogling his girlfriend, reaching out to touch her arm and shifting ever closer to where she stood. He was getting hotter by the second, burning up with anger and jealousy as he looked in disgust at the slimy sod. Who did he think he was to be stood so close to Fred’s girl? They’d been together years, it was hardly like nobody knew that she was his.

But then he heard your girlish giggle and his blood seemed to run cold. You were openly laughing with him, playing with a strand of your hair and making no move to shut down his advances.

He’d had enough and was just ready to march over and make Cormac choke down a puking pastille when he watched you take off your coat, throwing it over the chair behind you and taking a step back to avoid Cormac’s over familiar hands as they reached out for you again. Fred’s heart pounded as he looked at what you were wearing so proudly, his quidditch jumper with his surname displayed right across the back. He remembered now how you’d complained of being cold just before you left to view the task and he’d nipped up to his dorm to retrieve a warm jumper for you. He knew it wasn’t the nicest sweater, there was a hole in the left armpit that had been stitched back together with a completely different coloured thread and a great big pull in the fabric on the right sleeve but you’d worn it with pride. Your face had lit up when he held it out to you and you’d tried to sneakily smell it with a cute smile before you threw it over your head, tying up your hair so you could show off his surname now displayed across your back.

Watching you now, he realised how wrong he’d been. You were inching away from McLaggen, body turned away and looking for any sign of escape, the fingers in your hair a simple mechanism to block him from reaching out to you.

Fred was on his feet in seconds, almost trampling a load of first years who were sat in the pathway as he stalked over to where you were standing, his eyes fixed upon the letters across your back.

“Weasley,” he whispers in your ear as a greeting, immediately stepping behind you and placing his hand on the curve of your bum. You jump slightly at the sudden intrusion but recover quickly as you realise it’s him behind you. Fred watched as a smirk blossomed across your face as you realised, pressing your hips back just slightly as a form of acknowledgment, backing up into his hand which he squeezed, getting a good grip of your bum.

“This looks very good on you,” he whispers again into your ear, bending down just enough so that only you could hear how deep and breathy his voice had become. He reaches out with his left hand to glide it over your hip to your waist, tugging on the fabric of the jumper just enough that you’d understand exactly what he meant.

“The jumper or the name?” You smirk, earning another squeeze of your bum for your cheekiness, both of you openly ignoring McLaggen who is still trying to talk to you.

“Both,” Fred smirks, the tip of his nose catching on your hair, his lips moving dangerously closely to the smooth skin of your neck.

“If you don’t mind McLaggen, me and the Mrs have business to attend to,” Fred says suddenly, not even looking at Cormac who briefly considers if he does mind or not, mouth opening as if he is about to protest.

Fred doesn’t even give him a chance and simply throws his right arm around your shoulders and pulls you away with a shit eating grin on his face. His hand slips back towards your bum as you’re walking away, his hand slipping into your jeans pocket as he pulls you close to him, asserting his place. He can’t help but smirk as he directs you towards the stairs to the dorms, knowing that Cormac is still watching the pair of you and he takes a sick pleasure in knowing the last thing McLaggen will see of you tonight is Fred’s hand in your jeans as he takes you to his dorm; with his surname plastered in large letters across your back. The same surname that will be yours in just a couple of years, if Fred gets his way.

Maybe he should invite Cormac to the wedding.

[spncvr]

scott street | remus lupin

summary: You return to your childhood home. Remus, your past love, unexpectedly returns. (based on the song scott street if that wasn’t obvious)

pairing: rockstar!remus lupin x fem!reader (3rd person oops sorry)

warnings: is this.... angst?? idk but hurt/comfort!! no use of y/n bc i cannot write that and not die a little, and my terrible english i'm sure i mixed all the tenses up here guys sorry im tryinggg,, this is lowk cheesy as hell i feel like... LMAO

a/n: i was sick so i didn't go to school tdy but i wrote this banger oneshot (its 2,4k words can u belive?? longest thing ive ever written in english)

masterlist

Walking Scott Street, feeling like a stranger

With an open heart, open container

THE SUN SUNK behind the many leaves which hung lazily on the branches. Through the old sheer curtains, the breeze blows faint whispers. The room is tinged with a familiar feeling; as if the concrete used that constructed this house is laced with memories from the past. The memories all flooded back like tides in a vast ocean, rolling back and forth as they brought back recollections of days gone by.

This was where she had grown up. The small backyard, the one with grass that had used to touch her ankles, was where she had first learned how to do a cartwheel. The bed, unchanged since she had left, felt almost ancient. She remembered the time she had faked a headache to skip school and had spent the whole day in it; back then the bed had felt like the only place she had wanted to live in. 

This was where she fell in love. So much in love, that she could not seem to pinpoint the exact moment she had ever fallen out of it. Maybe she never did. But it didn’t matter. Not anymore, at least.

The room’s walls are bare, and the old, washed-out wall once covered with posters of her favourite rock bands, no longer stands amongst the antique wallpaper. But his pictures were there. Their pictures. It seemed as though they were taunting her as it was propped up on the small table beside her bed. She picked one of them up, one that had stood out to her the most, and gazed at it.

She grew up without wealth. That was clear from the photo, where her top was much too big for her. Maybe it was her father’s; she can’t remember. But that hadn’t mattered to him. He had his arms around her shoulders and a smile on his lips akin to those she’d seen of him on posters and TV screens. She missed when he’d shown it just for her to see.

I’ve got a stack of mail and a tall can.It’s a shower beer, it’s a payment plan.

She tries to remember the moment or event that had taken place where they had taken the picture. And she almost forgets. It caused her to quickly put the picture back down, and a loud thud resonated between the calm sounds of home.

How could she forget? She felt like she was losing too much of herself. The part of herself that had lived here, one that had loved so freely and so openly, was slipping away so incredibly quickly—and suddenly she understood why her mother had cried when she chose a university so far off. She had almost forgotten a part of herself—a version of herself, that she seemed to have missed the most.

She sits down on the edge of the bed, still close to the picture she had put back down, only to look at it again, this time from afar. 

Of course, she remembers this moment. It had been her birthday, and he had taunted her mercilessly, telling her how she was just as old and frail as he was since she had always made fun of him for having his birthday at the start of the year and hers so close to the end. This may have contributed to the small roll of her eyes in the photo, but she was unable to control the grin that had painted itself on her lips. She can’t remember the last time she’d been so happy. Joking about being so incredibly old while being so young. She’d have given everything to be seventeen again if it meant being seventeen with him. 

Behind the picture, she had been staring at, was another one. And this time, she didn’t forget because, try as she might, she couldn’t.

She can’t seem to let go of the memory of the first time he kissed her, after a gig, a small one that he held with his mates at a pub not that far from here. She remembers how his skin was alight with adrenaline, and his gaze piercing. She couldn’t forget the moment when he told her that she had always been the one he loved not long after the picture, somewhere outside the pub, where the crisp chilly November breeze did not win against his palm that rested against her cheek.

Not long after, when he had brought her back to his, when he had kissed her silly. When she had realized that she really loved him too, and when the realization had hit her so hard, she had to loop her arms around his neck to keep herself upright, when there was only quiet in the house and all that could be heard was her gentle laughter and his sweet nothings, he had whispered in her ear so quietly, almost as if it were a secret, I would have been content to love you from a distance.

There, they were eighteen, fresh out of school and without the slightest idea where they’d go next. She had occasionally pondered what would have happened if they had more time, if they hadn’t both been so foolish, or, if they had both recognized how much it was they felt for one another sooner. But doing so would have made the parting even more painful than it already was. That was something she didn’t like to imagine.

She sighs and leaves the room. She needed to breathe.

Do you feel ashamed, When you hear my name?

ADMITTEDLY, REMUS DIDN'T think he’d ever come back. To Wales, yes, of course, it was his country (now more than ever). But not to this house. Not to her house. He couldn’t ever think straight, not when he knew that she was out there somewhere forgetting every minute detail about their past, and not when the love she’d once felt for him had long gone. But here he stands. 

He’s overthinking this. She probably isn’t even home.

She’s always told him when they were young that she wanted to leave.

One day, she had whispered to him in the darkness, when they were six, her favourite stuffed animal tightly tucked between her arms, one day, we’ll be far away. Remus can’t remember whatever caused her to tell him this at such a young age, with such strong conviction. He thinks it was probably something silly—a classmate’s admonition that some activities were simply reserved for boys. Or maybe it was because her parents had refused to let her get ice cream after she’d finished all of her green vegetables (all that suffering for nothing, really). But the mindset had continued to stick in her mind; an ember of determination that refused to fade away.

One day, she says again, when she’s thirteen because her teacher had failed her in her first ever physics exam, one day this won’t matter. I’ll go. I’ll leave. She had said it so firmly and so surely that it scares him sometimes. Because, really, they’ve never been anywhere but here—so sometimes, he asks his mirror, pretending that she’s staring back at him: What if it’s just the same? What if it’s just as bad?

One day, she says again, when she’s seventeen because she has been looking at universities far off and away from Wales. He’d watch her as she’d stare at the campus pictures on the brochures their school had offered and study the student’s bright wide smiles, and sometimes, he wondered if she ever pictures herself in those hallways, with a group of new friends—she’d be the smart one, the witty one. Sometimes, Remus wondered if she ever pictured him with her as she told him with the biggest smile on her face: One day, I’ll be there. Anytime soon.

She’s never liked it here. That much was always clear to Remus. Her books were the sole bright spot in her otherwise (as she put it) bleak existence. Always arranged in a way that only she could fully understand within the small bookshelf she had bought for herself with her first paycheck when she was saving up for Uni. Often, he wondered if she had brought them with her when she had left or whether she had left them here. No longer feeling the drag of her fingertips against its words. Abandoned by its only reader. 

And for a while, he had thought that he’d given her another reason to love the place they’d always called home. But he left her. So why, then, would she ever choose to stay? Books could only last for so long.

Just knock, he curses to himself. Say hello to her parents. Tell them that you wanted to see how they were doing. 

And just when he’s about to finally get it over with, the door opens.

And she’s there.

She looks different. Hair cut short and brushed neatly. Her clothes fit her nicely. It feels kind of jarring. He doesn’t really know what to expect. He’d been half-expecting to see the girl who had her hair always tied up in a ponytail that didn’t do much, with the amount of hair that was always falling out of it or the girl who wore oversized band shirts that belonged to her father, along with the sneakers she’d been using ever since her feet had stopped growing—the girl who was so full of life it felt nearly impossible not to love her. It was silly, really. Of course, she’d changed. It’s been four years. 

“Remus?” she asks, her eyebrows furrowing, “What’re you doing here?”

He opens his mouth and closes it again. What was he doing here?

“I’m—” he starts but pauses for a while to come up with an answer, “I didn’t know you still lived here.”

“I don’t,” she says, plainly.

“Oh.” he breathes, she’s always been forward, “Well, I’m here for holiday.”

“Yeah . . . yeah me too.”

He rocks on the heels of his foot back and forth, “I just— wanted to know how your parents are doing.”

She purses her lips, “Oh. Well, Dad’s doing alright, I bought him a bunch of LPs—some of them yours, actually. And Mum’s still trying to get used to me being back here. She’s cooked a thousand meals.”

“That’s good to know,” he nods, smiling, because sometimes, she has no idea the effect she has on people. “I’m glad they’re alright.”

“How’ve you been?” she inquires, “Heard you’re not doing too bad in your band thing.”

He laughs softly, “It’s been alright.”

She smiles, for the first time he’s talked to her, and shakes her head softly, “Modest as always. Send the lads my love.”

“I missed you,” he tells her. And it spills from his tongue so quickly, before he could even think about it. She needed to know, somehow, that he couldn’t shake her off his mind. He played for her, wrote for her and of her. And sometimes, when he woke up in the middle of the night he swears he could feel her shadow brush his hand, he hoped and prayed to whatever God that was making him feel so incredibly homesick, that she’d been listening to the songs he’d written.

He could only hope that she’d understand the undertone of his words.

She looks at him with this look that seems to pierce through time, reaching back into the past, unwanting to let go. Then, there was this beat of silence; one long enough for him to hear everything that had been left unsaid.

She looks at him, her honey-laced lips slightly parted. “Do you want to come in?” She sounds hesitant as she steps aside, letting him through.

He nods as he follows her in.

The house felt achingly familiar, yet everything felt and seemed different. The walls were the same colour, and the couch that had always looked somewhat old still stood in the exact same place it had four years ago, with new cushions adorning it. The air felt thicker. She always had that effect on him, he supposes.

“Tea?” she offers, a smile playing on her lips, as she leads him into the kitchen.

“Always,” he replies, trying to keep his voice steady.

She turns her back to him to make tea and he feels like he’s missing her all over again. He’s watching her move, taking the tea kettle and suddenly he’s sixteen again, when he’d brought James, Sirius and Pete here because they’d had run into trouble with the police—well, admittedly, it was just James and Sirius, but the four boys had never failed to stick together—and the first thing she’d asked them when she saw all four of them at her doorstep late at night is if they’d like some tea.

“How long are you staying?” she asks, back still turned. “A few weeks,” he says, “Got a bit of a break before the next tour.”

When she handed him a cup, he noticed how even her arms and the tips of her fingers had changed. She looks good, beautiful. 

“So, how’s life been?” she asks, taking a sip.

“Busy,” he replies, “Touring, recording, writing. It’s a lot, but it’s what I love.”

“I’ve been listening to your music,” she admits when he sips her tea. It’s exactly how he likes it. “It’s good, Remus. Really good.”

Remus looks down at his shoes, “Thank you,” then, “I’m sorry.”

She frowns, “What for?” “For leaving,” his voice, barely a whisper, “for everything.”

“Oh, Remus,” she sighs as she puts her cup down on the kitchen counter, “no, you had to go. It was your dream—I mean, look at you. You’re doing so well. I’m so proud of you.”

“I’ve missed you,” he says again. Because she had smiled at him the same way she did all those years ago in that pub.

And this time, she says it back.

They spent the rest of the day talking and, at times reminiscing, catching up on their lives, and it felt like no time had passed, like they were the same two kids who had believed in forever. As the sky turned dark, and the light from the lamp in the living room spilt against the floors of her house, she had looked at him—that same look she had always given him five, six years ago before asked him, quietly:

“Will you stay?”

Remus smiles, his heart full, “For as long as you’ll have me.”

Anyway, don’t be a stranger

likes and reblogs r appriciated! <3 also i just learned what a taglist is,, so lmk if u wanna be included in my remus one :D

[1singulargrape]

This post has been living in my head ever since I saw it and what was supposed to be a prompt I wanted to store in my drafts ended up writing itself. Hope you enjoy!

Yuuji walks in to Sukuna sitting on the porch. His back is turned to the young man, something taking all of his attention.

Yuuji approached and understood immediately: it's a small ball of white with patches of orange and black spread around its fur. The kitty looked to be old enough to be weaned but still small; a few months old at best.

It was rubbing its head along Sukuna's hands, purring loudly. It meows needily when the caresses start to slow down and receives some chin scratches for it. If Yuuji had looked at Sukuna's face at that moment he could have caught the laughter in his eyes.

"I didn't know you liked cats". Yuuji sat beside him and brought his hand to the bite size lawnmower in front of them. The kitty sniffed at his fingers before rubbing itself with more fervor, demanding affection from the newcomer.

"...I never said I didn't." Sukuna's right eyes didn't leave the critter as he turned to look at Yuuji. "Besides, she's the one that dared to approach me. I had to at least entertain her bravery," he ran a finger down the kitten's spine, scratching the base of her tail; her butt wiggled with the movement. She tried turning around for more headpats but the hand had already retreated. "And she reminds me of you."

Yuuji turned to look at the other man "I don't see the resemblance."

"Watch."

Sukuna brought one of his hands to the kitten's face with his index finger extended. The kitty looked at it as if she had never seen it before and tried sniffing it, but before she could complete her investigations the finger moved and quickly pressed between her eyes. She went cross-eyed and blinked her big green eyes, hears perked up, while retracting her neck; she landed on her butt, bewilderment evident on the feline's face.

Yuuji wasn't impressed. He moved his hand under the cat and lifted it to his torso, "How does that remind you of me."

But while Yuuji was looking at his furry friend to make sure she was comfortable in his arms, a finger suddenly appeared in his vision, the boy went cross-eyed for a moment and when it left he blinked, once, having leaned back without noticing.

Before the embarrassment could catch up to him he wanted to berate his companion, but the words died out in his throat when he heard...

A soft chuckle made him look to his right and he saw Sukuna, smiling, his chest stuttering to the rhythm of his laughter. His face was relaxed yet happy, without any hint of malice or mockery. He was simply having fun, albeit to Yuuji's expense, but the younger man had never seen his companion so openly content before.

All of Yuuji's annoyance disappeared, and he smiled softly.

When he saw Yuuji's face, Sukuna went silent and his expression morphed back to his usual neutral frown.

"What are you looking at brat?" came the delayed question.

"Nothing. I'm just happy to see you." Yuuji was still holding the kitten who was trying to grab the collar of his shirt. The small claws were sharp but he paid it no mind.

"So, what's her name?" he asked, pulling free a claw that was stuck in the fabric.

"Cat."

"Cat?"

"Yes, until further notice." Sukuna placed an arm behind Yuuji and leaned towards him. He brought a hand closer and started playing with Cat again. The kitten was on her back and fiercely answered all of the man's "attacks" with vigorous biting and scratching. Although she could never do any real damage, Sukuna soon retreated, abdicating for now.

He was still leaning on Yuuji's shoulder when the other spoke up, "With the name you gave yourself, I thought you'd be a bit more talented at this." Cat was trying to paw his face now. "Even I could come up with a better name."

Sukuna narrowed his eyes at him for a moment. He then scoffed and stood up, "I highly doubt that."

He picked up a plate Yuuji hadn't noticed before, it was empty save for a few fishbones. "For now go walk our little guest. And buy more fresh fish and meat while you're at it." A small pause. "No canned food, her palate is far too refined for that processed junk," he added with disdain.

Yuuji frankly doubted that a stray that probably lived off vermin and thrown leftovers and was most likely infected with some kind of parasite would mind, but he addressed another issue first.

"You don't walk a cat? They just do their thing and you clean up after them." Cat was trying to jump out of Yuuji's arms. She was looking at the plate Sukuna was holding, forgetting she emptied it earlier. To emphasize her point she started meowing at him.

"I will not lower myself to pick up animal waste, and I better not find anything staining this propriety, so you take care of it." He punctuated his sentence by turning around and heading towards the living room.

"Sure Your Highness. Anything else this lowly servant could do for you?"

Yuuji didn't actually expect the other man to stop. Sukuna turned around and leaned against the doorway, bringing a hand to his chin thoughtfully, "She'll need a place to sleep. Don't get one of those plastic baskets, a fluffy pillow seems more appropriate. As for the bowls I'll accept ceramic or glass. Do whatever you want with the litter, so long as it doesn't smell."

And with that he disappeared inside before Yuuji could protest being made into the errand boy again.

...well, he did ask.

Yuuji stood up with a huff. He held Cat in front of him and she only stared back with her big empty eyes, "It's always like that with him, he does whatever he wants and leaves the gross part to me. But don't worry, I'll make sure he learns how to take good care of you too." Yuuji flashed a beaming smile towards Cat who showed no reaction, then sighed and went back to petting her. She seemed to have spent a lot of energy already and would hopefully rest in Yuuji's front pocket.

He headed towards the entrance making a mental list of everything Sukuna asked and a few extra things that will come in handy. He'll have to go to an animal store for good quality products. And book a visit to the vet. An unexpected spending for sure but thinking about Sukuna's smile and laughter earlier told Yuuji it was worth it.

///

Late in the night, Yuuji was heading back to his (empty) bed after getting some water.

Sukuna had been holed up in his study all evening with Cat doing god-knows-what.

Since he already knew sleep would not come back to him easily, he decided it wouldn't hurt to take a peek inside the room.

His companion was was sitting on the floor (again?) with Cat's head peeking out from behind his frame. She was sound asleep on his thigh, her soft purring barely reaching Yuuji's ears.

Brand new toys were littered around the room and sheets of paper surrounded the man, all with lines upon lines of ink with what looked like annotations and crossed out words. He tapped the end of a brush on his knee, and another hand was near his head. Although Yuuji couldn't see his face, he knew he was deep in thoughts.

Yuuji smiled and headed back to their bed knowing he would most likely spend the rest of the night alone.

After all, choosing a name for his first daughter was something Sukuna would do with the upmost care.

[grasshopperdoingdogpaddle]

Omi! You did it!

Yes! We make an even better team than just me!

But now that we have fought as one, how will we ever battle again?

I'm sure we will find a way.

Omi refusing to take credit for this alone because he was so happy that this was something he accomplished together with Chase Young.

Omi just openly admitting that he has so much fun fighting with Chase, that he enjoys being at Chase's side so much more than standing against him, that he wants to be able to keep working together with Chase so much that it will be sincerely difficult to imagine going back to the way things normally are as enemies. Omi's done temporary alliances before, but he's never left one feeling quite this conflicted.

And Chase, already formulating his plan to split his soul in two and have him vow by the words he's already practically spelling out right now, just biting his tongue for now and finding the vaguest way to say "…Well, that can be arranged."

This little conversation nicely caps off everything else that happened between these two in Dangerous Minds.

Omi leaping to Chase's side at the first sign of danger, the proud smiles Chase gives Omi, Omi and Chase fighting back-to-back with everything Chase had taught him, the "you are most amazing"s. They've been growing closer for a long while, but this was their first time getting to work together without worrying about careful distance and boundaries they maintain.

Courtesy of @gravity-what:

Omi: Now that we have fought as one, how will we ever battle again? Chase, internally: You could always just join me already. The offer is always extended for you. Then we can always fight as one. You already chose me, when you could have come to anyone's side but chose mine. Have you already forgotten? Because I haven’t. Didn’t you have fun on this little adventure, Omi? Didn’t you enjoy your first taste of freedom? Your first taste of true battle? Your first taste of torture? Surely now you must be ready to swear your loyalty to me? Chase, externally: ...We will find a way.

Seconds prior, Chase was just sulking and glaring in his own little corner of the raft, bitter about the monks happily reuniting. Something Chase flatly says he sees as "a nauseating display".

But after this little exchange with Omi, he's visibly struggling to hold back another smile at Omi in this little blink-and-you'll-miss-it moment, right before he vanishes. Omi's words definitely struck a chord.

[visionsofmagic]

⋆ ― ◜week of celebs◝ ― ⋆

DAY FOUR: christian bale x f!reader

previous | masterlist | next  

• summary: it is the third movie you and chris playing together in, and it is last time he can hide his love for you. | wc: 1.5k | tags&warnings: fluff, kissing, confessing, touching, gentle!bale, reader is kind of a brat, co-workers, friends to lovers, young-adult!bale, mentions of a little nsfw content, short. [also, so so sorry for waiting for the ‘week’ thing but I had three important tests to take and I had to study :/ but now, I have no test left so, I’m back and the other works will be on soon! Enjoy. ^^]

“Isn’t it amazing that we can work together once again?” You ask, not trying to get an answer but just pointing the fact you think of while waiting for the next scene to be filmed. Chris only nods, something isn’t right with him but you guess it is because he has a remarkable role in the movie, requiring great deal of attention and focus, and you know very well how he wants to show his best every time. You admire his hard-working. He is like a model for you – also, a dear friend.

Maybe you want to become more than a dear friend but you are afraid how he will react, so, you let it go, only focusing on the friendship you two have – a beautiful friendship; he loves making you happy, you like seeing him in peace thanks to your presence, support and fun kisses on the cheeks. You think whether it makes him feel awkward with these kisses even though he never complains. It is just a thing you both share like the sharing of food, memories, smiles, cries and even the bed –in the nights – and sometimes daylights too – when the air fills up with sadness, happiness, exciting – oh, you think inside, maybe we share a lot.

“Hey,” You hear his voice. Coming to your senses – back to reality, you wink a few times, looking up to see Bale kneeling to the front, his gazes on your face, wondering what make you daydream for a moment. “Are you okay?” He asks and you can see concern in his face expression, making you want to just grip his cheeks, caress them and saying how much you realize you love him, especially after the memories you share with him come to your mind. However, you can’t. So, with a sad smile on your face, you nod, not caring whether he can tell the truth behind your smile.

Putting a childish kiss on his nose, you say, “Better than okay!”

The moment he is about to ask another question, his personal assistant comes, saying that the screen is about to start to both of you. Nodding to her, you get up as Bale straightens his posture, hands on his pockets.

Hugging him from the arm, you giggle with excitement. Pulling him with you, you say, “I am so excited! In this scene, I will throw a glass to you.”

“I didn’t think you like violence.” He remarks, one of his hand positions on yours – a true gentleman who makes your heart go weak in a second.

“I am not,” Turning to him, to tease, you chuckle. “Well, if it is outside the bed.”

He stops in his track for a moment before coughing in fake, staring to walk again. As you look at his side profile – a perfect sight to see with his sharp jaw, freshly trimmed beard, short hair – you wait him to be shy like always because being such a brat, you like to make him shy and blushing but not today, apparently, not today. He smirks instead of showing any sight of shyness, telling you to be more sensible – he just smirks, turning to your face, making you look at another way to hide your heat rushing to your face. Kneeling, his hot breaths find your ear, whispering dangerously, “What a nasty girl!” He chuckles lowly – you are already weak on the knees. “Maybe you just need a good lesson to understand why you shouldn’t talk in public so openly like this.”

When the director calls for him from the other side of the room, he is about to touch your chin. Nodding to himself, he lets you go after saying, “Don’t worry, I will teach it properly this time.”

You feel like he is finally let his inner voice to take actions instead of his logical side. You chuckle, taking your place on the room, still feeling drunk, and avoiding gazes from Bale. He is sure something else today.

•

“Then, he was right behind me! Can you imagine?” One of my co-workers says with a chuckle, playing with her hair, and telling a story about the director. Chuckling, I nod to her.

After the end of today’s scenes, everybody agreed on taking a break time, having a little fun in one of actors’ house. So, here you are, standing beside the window, a drink on your hand, a black dress covers your body. It was a choice of your personal assistant after she found out that you liked Bale and he was going to attend as well. She said how you looked gorgeous in the dress, getting you all blushing, thinking how Bale would react.

This thought on your mind, you turn to other side of the room, trying to find where Bale is right now in a crowded place like this one is but when you are about to give up, you see him; he looks so humble and gentle with the black suit on him while entering the room. You look at him from head to toe, no shame behind your gazes but you don’t care, not when his gazes find yours, only focusing on you and making his way to you slowly. You nearly become breathless at the sight. Feeling brave enough to make an attempt like he is doing, you turn and say your co-worker goodbye, approaching to Bale faster than he does.

Finally, meeting in the middle, you say after an awkward long silence in which you look into his beautiful eyes and he does the same for you, “Hi.”

He chuckles in a low tone, “Hi,” He takes your hand in his, putting a kiss on the head of it. You would hate it when other men do it but when he does it – oh, how it feels so right and magical when he does it. “Gorgeous.”

Smiling widely, you roll your eyes, taking back your hand from his slowly only to put it on his shoulder, making him tense but you get it is a good sign since his smile grow bigger, closing the gap between your bodies further, causing you to forget what you would say for a moment. He smells so good – he looks so good – everything about him is near to perfection.

“Don’t look too much or you will fall hard for me.” You tease him, winking and when you take a sip from your drink, you feel his one hand find your waist, pulling you closer until his lips touching your ear, hot breaths hitting your neck. Heat rising inside of your body as well as outside and you only stare at his beautiful blue eyes.

“You should warm me sooner,” He smirks, not a playboy type of smirk – just, showing how he knows his effects on you now. “I already have fallen for you – hard.”

“Chris –“ You try to say, try to comprehend what he really means by that. “So, you say –“ You can’t find yourself powerful enough to say it aloud but Chris is there for you. He knows you better than you know yourself.

So, when he takes your hand on his, not caring about other people on the room, you follow him because you always will follow him no matter what.

Entering in an empty room, he reaches to his balcony, still holding your hand – tighter than before, giving you goosebumps. He turns around to see you clearly under the light of the moon and garden’s white lights.

“Yes, I say it.” He says, and you trying to make his words since your mind is overflowed by the sudden emotions he is causing.

“What?” You ask once more, wanting to hear it aloud – wanting him to admit it while using his words.

He chuckles once more – oh, he is surely happy right now and you are the same. Putting both of his on your waist, he pulls you to himself, making his chest hitting yours. “I love you,” He says and you believe you would fall into the ground if he didn’t hold you like this. He takes your hand, putting it on his chest where his heart remains. “I love you so deeply that I can no longer hide it.”

Taking deep breaths, you firstly understand his words – already having effects on you; chest rising and falling, hands getting sweaty and face has a stupid smile on – then, you close your eyes, and open them only to see that he is real. This make him smile, shaking his head. “I am real.”

“But, I need to do something to believe it, Chris.” You say.

His one eyebrow rises and you take action without waiting for him to speak; your lips find his, his taste flows into yours, a hand on his collar to pull him closer and other one enters into his short hair. He, on the other hand, nearly moans lowly into the kiss you share right now, hands on your waist getting tighter, hugging you strongly.

You know from this day everything will change between you – the relationship you have but you have no fear, not when he kisses you so deeply, passionately and holding you close. You wonder how he both is your weakness and strength. However, your mind can’t make any judgement since it only focuses on him – breaking the kiss for a moment before he adds, “I love you.” once again and you giggle.

“I love you too handsome.”

The end. 💌

[spindlewoed]

["Homo-sexual underground" internalized]

NEW TASK: Talk to the smoker again (optional)

***

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Hello there, Gendarme.” The man offers you another one of his honeyed smiles, “I have to say, something feels different about you. Are you done with your twenty-hour mind project?”

As a matter of fact, I am.

Not really, I’d like to talk about something else.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His eyebrows rise minutely, “*Beautiful*. And what was your conclusion, if I may ask?”

EMPATHY [Trivial: Success] — He’s genuinely curious. 

It helped me have a little bonding moment with my case partner over here (point to Kim).

A waste of eight hours of my time. Don't think I gained anything from it. On multiple levels.

It was a very immersive thought process, very educational. I feel closer to the plight of the underground community now. I think you guys should form some sort of union.

I’m really not sure…

KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant gives you a stern look before you can say more.

AUTHORITY [Easy: Success] — It is not your place to disclose my personal information, *officer*.

YOU — shut your mouth instantly.

It helped me have a little bonding moment with my case partner over here (point to Kim).

A waste of eight hours of my time. Don't think I gained anything from it. On multiple levels.

It was a very immersive thought process, very educational. I feel closer to the plight of the underground community now. I think you should form some sort of union.

I’m really not sure…

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He hums, contemplative. “Well of course. A measly day wouldn’t be enough time to comprehend the scope and grandeur of the *homo-sexual underground*, obviously.” He smiles again, his heart shaped lips almost breaking into a grin.

“But do tell, Gendarme. Indulge me. Have you thought about where you stand on the matter?” 

Couldn’t be me. I'm not one of those.

I’ve stopped obsessing over my sexuality, I’m afraid there’s no going back to thinking about it. That would be another eight hour project. Twelve if I’m honest.

[Electrochemistry - Heoric 15] Look for clues in your past. Try to remember.

[CHECK SUCCESS]

ELECTROCHEMISTRY — Looking like a dust covered film, your memory slowly unravels in your mind. A young man, just like yourself. He’s taller than you by an inch or so. Slightly muscular, round figure. Kind eyes. An explosion of electricity travels all over your body as he places a casual hand on your lower back. No one else in the room seems to notice. Later, you’re in the janitor's closet, and small talk concerning your shared students turns into hit after hit of oxytocin as he kisses you. You don’t remember his name.

YOU — “Does it count if it was once, in a closet?”

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — His eyes widen then he laughs, suddenly and openly.

DRAMA [Medium: Success] — He’s only making fun of you a *little* this time, sire. He's positively *delighted*.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Forgive me, gendarme. It’s always a pleasure talking to you." He composes himself, leaning back against the bricks. "But to answer your question - yes. I believe it counts.”

No, there’s no way. Forget I said anything.

Ok…

SMOKER IN THE BALCONY — He nods, waiting for you to reach a conclusion.

YOU — "Ok. But that was the past. How do I know that this is me, now?"

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He takes a drag of his cigarette while studying your face. As he exhales, his smile returns to his face like it never left.

ELECTROCHEMISTRY [Trivial: Success] — He smiles a lot when you're talking to him. It’s a warm, smooth shot of dopamine every time.

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “That’s up to you to figure out." He flicks the ash off his cigarette with his slender fingers. He adds, lightly: “But feel free to give me a call once you do, officer.” He winks.

Oho?

Uhu?

Ogh?

[Savoir Faire - Godly 16] Try to come up with something a little bit more eloquent.

[CHECK FAILURE]

YOU — (whisper) "Awooga…"

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — “Pardon?”

KIM KITSURAGI — "Detective," the lieutenant interjects mercifully, "perhaps it's best we get back to the case, yes?"

YOU — "Yeah, I gotta go. See you. I mean, yeah. Bye."

SMOKER ON THE BALCONY — He chuckles, waving his fingers goodbye. “See you around, Gendarmerie.”

[blazinghotfoggynights]

No one knows if Buddie will happen. It may. It may not. I think there is just as good of a chance of Buddie happening as Eddie being written as realizing he deserves good things and that good thing being Ana or Marisol or some other woman and Taylor redeeming herself and becoming Mrs. Buckley. Tim may even write a BuckTommy endgame for all I know, but that doesn't change what the story is so far. (911 does crazy things. Anything is possible.)

What that leads me to is what about Buck and Tommy indicated anything more than a convenient plot device? Buck and Tommy had zero chemistry. ZERO. There was more chemistry with Buck and Ali and that was flatlined. The whole BuckTommy relationship felt forced and created in order to push a bigger storyline. Were we all watching the same show?

Personally, I think there were great subplots that were left unexplored. We could have been given Tommy being confronted about his racism and misogyny, Buck dealing with being with someone like that, Tommy's journey to becoming an openly gay man, Hen and Chimney finally opening up about what Tommy's behavior was like for them and how it feels to now be confronted with one of their tormentors on a frequent basis, etc. (Feel free to take any of those and write fic. Can you tag me if you do? I'd love to read it!)

Every single interaction between Buck and Tommy was cold, dismissive, or about sex. There was nothing deep there. Buck was, once again, trying to force something.

Go back to 7x3. Tommy PUSHES Buck away while watching Eddie. Tommy was spending time with Eddie every spare minute they had. He never once invited Buck to hang out. When Buck visited him at the hangar, Tommy simply checked him out, then was condescending. When Eddie arrived, Tommy's whole demeanor changed. He physically stood up straighter, began smiling, and couldn't wait to get away from Buck.

Tommy going to Buck's loft was not about attraction. He was dealing with realizing he couldn't have Eddie and it wasn't because of Marisol. I could be wrong, but I don't recall Tommy ever mentioning Marisol. He complained that he could never take Buck's place. That was someone congratulating the victor. Did you not hear the tone of Tommy's voice and his phrasing? He was not complimenting Buck at any point. He was annoyed and jealous.

He kissed Buck for something other than attraction. How did the fans who figured it out know? The man had no clue Buck was attracted to him because he was paying Buck dust!

Tommy had the chance to play with a baby bi and he took it. Buck was young, hot, and ready to do anything so Tommy took the offer.

When Buck tried to open up and be vulnerable after Bobby's heart attack, Tommy turned it into sexual innuendo. I don't care how you spin it, that conversation was creepy and not something someone who cares about you would say.

When Buck was at the cemetery, he mentioned his boyfriend wouldn't touch him. Tommy didn't ask for Buck to be healed for Buck's sake. He wanted to be able to sleep with him!

You don't have to be Buddie to have seen that relationship was a mess. Buck dove in head first and was reckless and needy immediately. Tommy was distant and cold. It was all right there in the viewers' faces the whole time. If you saw a deep, committed, loving relationship between Evan Buckley and Thomas Kinard, you were missing the blatant clues.

Tommy was there for fun and knew it would burn out. Buck was the same old Buck, begging for someone to love him and jumping in with his eyes closed. Eddie? Well, we have to wait to see which direction Tim chooses, but the past was really clear about who Tommy wanted to spend his time with initially.

Tim could easily send BuckTommy and Buddie fandom both into meltdowns by putting Eddie and Tommy together. Ijs. Then no one gets what they want. You never know with him.

[regulus-rietveld]

BLACK BROTHERS

(realistically speaking)

Pre-Hogwarts!Sirius who loves his brother so much that he takes the blame for everything (including things he didn't do) but also slightly envies Regulus because he has someone to protect him.

Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who doesn't understand that his family is abusive and hates Sirius because his cousin Bella said, "the more harsh your parents are, the more they love you."

Pre-Hogwarts!Sirius who gets his Hogwarts letter and the first thing he feels is guilt because he has to leave his Reggie here.

Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who feels happy that Sirius is leaving because now he'd get his parents' attention.

Young!Sirius who is dead scared when he gets sorted into Gryffindor because- what would his parents say? But the crazy-haired boy he met briefly on the train, pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose and calls him an icon. And Sirius thinks that maybe it's not too bad.

Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who speaks back to his mother because he's seen Sirius do it but gets slapped. And suddenly, he wants his Sirius back.

Young!Sirius who receives a howler first thing the next morning and is terrified of opening it but James Potter sets it on fire and Sirius feels overwhelmed. He cries alone in the bathroom because he's finally gotten what he's always wanted. Someone to protect him.

Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who reads Sirius' first letter, scowling at the number of times he sees the same name over and over. James said that. James did this. And Regulus is jealous of said James. He writes to Sirius but doesn't mention his parents' new attitude.

Young!Sirius who's so busy revelling in the new feeling of having a family and fun that his weekly letters to his Reggie becomes monthly. He's not ignoring his brother, but he just doesn't have the time anymore.

Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus notices how scarce the letters have become and is so fed up of seeing 'James' over and over again that he stops reading the letters but doesn't stop expecting them.

Young!Sirius who is shocked when James openly reads his mother's letters to him and the letters are so... nice. He could feel the affection rolling off of the words and it's something he's never felt before and in that moment he decides to take on James' request to go to Potter Manor for Christmas. He writes to Regulus and apologizes and promises to compensate.

Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who didn't read the letter and wasn't informed by his parents that Sirius won't be coming home, goes to his estranged uncle Alphard and begs to take him to the platform to surprise Sirius only to wait for three hours and return heartbroken and absolutely crushed.

Young!Sirius who's flabbergasted when Euphemia hugs him in the station in front of everyone because growing up he was told to not display affection in public. He swears he sees his brother for a moment but then Fleamont pats him on the back with a warm grin and the thought has passed.

Pre-Hogwarts!Regulus who reluctantly reads the letters and feels a wave of warmth because he says- Dear Reggie, I've missed you so much. He smiles because it almost feels like his brother is here, talking to him and hugging him saying that they'll be fine. But then his smile drops immediately when he reads that Sirius will be staying at James' and Merlin does that make him angry.

SHOULD I WRITE A PART TWO???

[inkyquince]

08: Trick or Treatin’ Daddio (Part 1)

characters. Bailey. Featuring a hint of Robin.

cw. Nothing yet, it's the first part to Bailey being the absolute worst to the reader. Mentions of bullying from Bailey and creepy behavior from Eden. Robin being a little guy. Next part will feature noncon, anal, and very very very mean Bailey, but that's for the actual Spooky Day.

Halloween was always one of your favorite times of year. Ever since you were young, you had looked forward to October more than any other month, more than your own birthday. Your parents always found that adorable, how at the start of August, you were already planning your costume and the decorations, the same way people prepared for Christmas. 

You remembered also being teased for this, especially by a pointed face boy who openly mocked you whenever you were in earshot, to his gargantuan friend who just watched you closely and creepily. When you got older and remained in love with the holiday, he went from mocking you for being childish to snapping at your waistbands and your ribs, sneering that you could at least dress slutty if you were going to be an eyesore. His tall friend just continued to watch. One of your blessings these days was that you never ever saw Bailey around that much, too swept up in God knows what. That and Eden disappeared a few years after graduating, no longer around to suddenly appear behind you when you turned around, or staring at you from across the room, or, you swear, following you home. 

Now you could just thrive, known as the best person on the block to go for the actual fun sized chocolates and sweets, the funnest decorations, everything. Hell, that’s how you met the kid. 

Robin was practically herding some of the younger orphans around, shyly talking to their friend the entire time but they brightened at the sight of you. Hell, he liked to hang out with you just normally, happily staying for dinner and asking your advice on crushes. It was adorable, and some parental instincts you never knew you had kicked in. To the point he shyly asked if you would ever think about adopting him, maybe even their friend, who always seemed so much busier and constantly on the move. 

You promised him that you’d think about it and he in turn said he’d bring it up to his caretaker. 

Speaking of Robin, you were eagerly awaiting him to swing by, having promised to set up some of the extra decorations. He was always so timely, so you didn’t care that he was so late when the knock finally came, but your smile was wiped from your face when you finally did open the door. 

Bailey. Standing right before you. With his tattooed hand clamped onto Robin’s shoulder, so tight you could see the crinkles of his shirt pulled taut. Worst of all, Bailey looked great. He had grown into his pointy rat face, muscles pressing against the rolled up sleeves of his shirt, tattoos stark against his skin. You even wish you could call his slicked back hair greasy looking but it just didn’t. 

“Hey, stranger.” Bailey’s thin lips spread into a sneer, similar to the ones he would shoot you so long ago. 

Underneath his grip, Robin swallowed, looking up at you with bloodshot eyes. His eyes flickered to the door again and again, specifically focusing on where your hand rested on the handle. Beseeching you, but for what? You already knew Bailey was just a bully, but he couldn’t be that bad. 

“Hey Bailey.” You finally greeted back, opening the door a bit more. “What’s-” 

“Our little Robin mentioned you to me the other day. Almost couldn’t believe that you were still hanging around this dump.” Bailey interjected, his grip tightening on the orphan’s shoulder. “Thought we could have a sit down and discuss our next few steps, hm?” 

You brightened and the caretaker’s grin sharpened before glancing down at Robin once more. 

“Go back to the others.” He loosened his grip and jerked his head down the street, where a small group of children were waiting, wide eyed. 

Robin looked between you two, his breaths coming fast and in shaky puffs before he jutted his chin out, as if defiant. 

“I wanna stay. It’s important to me too, right?” 

Bailey stared down at him before glancing at you out of the corner of his eye, and something darkened in his eyes. He leaned down, almost nose to nose with the boy and whispered, low, just to him. 

“Fuck. Off.” 

That’s all it took for the orphan’s courage to crumble down into dust and he turned on his heel, heading back towards the group. Meanwhile, Bailey straightened up and smiled at you again, nasty and off putting. 

“Now, shall we?”

[elitadream]

Ok, I have one last question regardig the babies, sort of anyway, How would everyone react to seeing an adult Jr?

Ooh, that's a fun one to imagine! ☺️🩵

They would recoil in shock upon seeing this large beast suddenly appearing around the corner and barreling towards them at high speed; their instant feeling of alarm relenting somewhat upon seeing the huge grin on his face and the sincere joy in his eyes.

"Mario!!"

Before the man could react or even process this new development, he would be swept up right off the ground by two massive paws and squished in a strong bear hug, wheezing from the pressure.

"It's so good to be able to do this for once!" The creature would exclaim, happily swinging him back and forth in his crushing hold. His voice -pleasantly deep and amicable, yet unmistakably familiar- would have Mario blinking incredulously in recognition.

"Junior??" He would rasp, hardly able to breathe. The Koopa would finally release him, still smiling broadly, and it would only be then that Mario would note how strikingly similar he looks to Bowser. Behind them, Luigi and Peach would also stare in amazement.

"Can you believe it? Now I'm just like my papa!"

The prince would strike a regal pose for good measure, his merriment however dissipating rather swiftly as he would hum and join his hands in front of himself in thought; a hint of his usual self reflecting starkly in his sheepish demeanor. "Too bad it's only temporary though..."

"You- But- What- How's that possible??" Luigi would stammer out loud, visibly dumbfounded.

"I, uh... took Kamek's wand while he was asleep," Junior would say, shuffling his feet bashfully. There would be a stunned silence before he would hastily add, "B-but I made sure to put it back where I found it before anyone noticed! He usually keeps it under lock and key. I just wanted to try it, that's all! Besides, the age inducing spell only lasts about an hour, so... I'll be a kid again very soon."

His enthusiasm would deflate entirely with his statement, and Mario couldn't help but shake his head with a fond chuckle at that. Peach and Luigi would follow suit, sharing an amused look.

"What's so funny?" Junior would ask, frowning confusedly.

"You seem to think of that as a bad thing," Mario would answer. "As though this older version of you is better."

While explaining himself, he would step forward and maintain Junior's gaze, his expression warm and indulgent.

"And fair enough, it's indeed incredible... I'm looking at you and- I feel so proud. But that's only because of who you already are. Child or not, it doesn't matter. You're amazing, and I know that you have a bright future ahead of you. I'm only glad I got to see a small glimpse of it today."

Junior's astonishement would morph into deep thankfulness and delight as he would promptly embrace him again; albeit more gently this time.

"Thank you," he would murmur, giving the man a meaningful squeeze.

Mario would take a moment to marvel at how big and robust and majestic his young friend has temporarily become, openly welcoming the fantastic surrealness of the moment. As for Luigi and Peach, they would similarly admire the stark change in Junior's appearance; however knowing full well that it will only be a matter of time before they see him like this again. ^-^ 💫

[cancerian-woman]

#7 "I almost lost you" + Bamon

this seemed too perfect for them...

Ahh! Thank you! I had fun with this: prompt list a little twist on this scene:

“So which way do you wanna go?” Bonnie asked, looking around. “Turn around, go straight..”

Damon watched as Bonnie’s pretty lips moved, her eyes squinting and her nose crinkling in annoyance at his silence. The purpose of this vacation was to help both Alaric and him heal from their recent losses and discover a new strength. Damon would openly admit to anyone who asked that Bonnie possessed a strength that neither he nor Stefan could ever match: the ability to move forward through adversity, no matter the cost. They would brood and get drunk until the bitter end.

Bonnie was still offering suggestions on directions and her ideas for the next travel destination. She couldn’t see the white truck coming towards her and the asshole behind the wheel didn’t care to slow down. The car inched closer and closer to the witch. Damon imagined how rewarding it would be to see Elena’s brown eyes on his, hear her laugh and offer hope for their future but there was a but.

He chose Bonnie for a reason.

Damon’s life would feel meaningless without Bonnie. Who else is going to fling spells at him when he’s being an ass? Provide the comforting scent of lavender that radiates from her skin, and remind him that she hates his cooking skills. Bonnie fits easily in his arms, even if she has to stand on her toes to wrap her arms around him. Bonnie will never know how grateful he is to hear her snoring when she sleeps, and her heartbeat increasing when she exercises too loudly in the morning.

“DAMON!” Bonnie yelled, snapping her fingers. “You’re not listening,”

Damon's blue eyes widen at the scene before him as he hears the driver repeatedly cursing about his inability to slow down the car. He blinks, trying to shake off the haunting image of Bonnie's red shirt and wavy brunette hair stained with her magical blood. She can't die, and he won't allow it. She's too young and inexperienced to have such a short life.

Damon utilized his vampiric speed to grab Bonnie and push her into the crowd. The last thing he saw was Bonnie being assisted to her feet by random bystanders, just before he felt the aching impact of the white truck colliding with his side.

Damon’s eyes flickered as he reopened them. White room, stiff mattress and dimmed lights and before he could move Bonnie was glued to his side checking his lower abdomen for bruises.

“You know you didn’t have to bring me here? I heal just fine.”

Bonnie punches Damon’s shoulder. “You were hit by a car, in front of people. I had no choice.”

Bonnie moves closer to Damon giving him a long hug, as she sits next to him. “I could’ve died, but you saved me. Thank you.”

“I almost lost you, and I never want to be in that position again.”

Bonnie smiles gently at his confession, choosing to set aside her urge to ask about the truck and why he hadn’t been listening for now. Instead, she leans in and kisses his forehead tenderly, feeling a wave of affection. She then decides to curl up beside him, offering her quiet support and understanding.

[marbeeowl]

a short story dedicated to this picture

--------------- - Well, how many times have I told you that they will dump you?

The black-haired guy exhaled indignantly and irritably. His already perpetually gloomy face became even darker. Dima Ternov, ternovik, devil, that's what the others called him. And he matched with his nicknames. His sharp tongue was both his friend and enemy, and the whole gloomy and dark appearance of that guy repelled, as if saying "Don't come near - it will kill you". He always knew that pioneering was stupid, that there were no friends there, that everything there was as hypocritical as in any "firm". Yes, everyone work together, help each other in small things, but no one is really friends there. So he believed in his opinion, he saw the confirmation of his point of view.

- And they didn't dump me at all...Big deal, they forgot at the bus stop..I'll go to the museum next time. What I didn't see there..

He was answered by a blond boy wearing a newspaper man's cap in the English manner, who walked next to him with a frustrated, but not discouraged look. Philip Pirronov, or as he was affectionately called sometimes, Philya, was the complete opposite of Dmitry in every sense. Always cheerful and polite, a young pioneer, proud to wear his red tie. He piously believe that pioneering was honorable, that all pioneers were good and responsive, despite the fact that his "friends" from the same brigade made fun of him. Is he too kind and trusting? Definitely. Did he realize that he had been made a kind of punching bag? Definitely not. They might have been tolerant of him, but they always dumped him to the rough work. However, Philip never complained and, on the contrary, was proud that he could do something useful. And what a surprise it was that such a simpleton would be able to make friends with almost an enemy of the pioneer party, who openly called it all nonsense. Although at first it was difficult to call it friendship. Dima just made an errand boy out of him, give-and-bring something, nothing more. Over time, he began to stand up for him. And now, taking him by the hand and carrying his briefcase along with his own, he accompany him home. Dima sometimes wondered himself: why was he so soft? Why does he get into fights for this fool? Why is he comforting when Philip has once again become the one on whom all the dogs are unleashed even though he has done nothing wrong? Neither Ternov nor Pirronov himself knew. However, even though Dima grumbled about it, he did not regret anything.

- You're a fool. How many times have I told you that? - Five in a day, probably.. - So I'll tell the sixth: You're an idiot. Someday I'll leave you and figure it out on your own, until you realize with your empty little head that I'm right.

The blond boy just smiled, letting out a short laugh. He was used to Ternov's sarcasm and sometimes it seemed funny to him. Philya raised his eyes, blue as the summer sky, at him, looking at him with the same cheerful sparkle in them.

- Did you not join the pioneers so as not to be in my place, or because you didn't want to, huh? - Maybe. ---------------

[one-winged-dreams]

Cumbia

ship: RHP Adri x Shanks, RHP Adri & Luffy, RHP Adri & Uta source: one piece word count: 1096 cw: shanks is always drunk

This fic idea started with me thinking about the 'grownups are dumb' scene because I'm feeling some type of way about Uta after listening to Ado's album.

And then it turned into a Shanks ship fic >:c Obvs this was back when Luffy and Uta were kids.

tag list: @dearly-beeloved @dorothys-wife @kylilah @adoredbyalatus @the-sleeping-city

@goldenworldsabound @dear-gambler @mahitosoulmate @sunstar-of-the-north

@faerie-circle-ships @heatobrienswife @tireddovahkiin

divider: tsunami-of-tears

Adri had never been a drinker. 

Not for any particular reason (he lied), definitely not because he was the biggest lightweight on the planet (also a lie). 

Twenty years old and a member of the Red Hair Pirates for 2 years, he was well used to the constant revelry that came with being a part of Shanks’ crew. Revelry he was content to only MILDLY participate in. 

That said, he liked to dance. He enjoyed it, and so did the crew. And so sometimes he would deign to exhibit his appropriately passionate cultural dances for their entertainment. 

Alas, Shanks wasn’t the only one who took interest in those particular skills.

Another visit to Foosha Village. 

And SEVERAL rounds of drinks.

As the crew openly debauched themselves, as was the usual routine, Adri stood near the back of the bar, shadowed by two small figures. Luffy on his left, Uta on his right. 

He could sense the air of childish disdain from the two as they watched the crew drinking themselves stupid, though Adri would admit only to himself that it was oddly wholesome. But Luffy and Uta were too young to understand.

Looking from one to the other, Adri playfully wrinkled his nose. “Grownups are pretty dumb, huh?” he said, a small smile tilting his lips. 

“They do this EVERY time,” Luffy grumbled, kicking at the floor. 

Adri chuckled. “Yeah, well, Shanks is just kind of silly like that, isn’t he?”

There was a roar of laughter, unrelated to the spectating happening between the three, and Adri shook his head with an affectionate scoff. 

Suddenly, his attention was requested in the form of Uta pulling at his jacket.

“Hey Adri, I wanna dance,” she asked, somewhere between a request and a demand.

“You wanna dance, huh?” Adri smiled playfully, arching an eyebrow and cocking one of his ears. “Can’t let your dad have all the fun, can you?”

Uta giggled and shook her head.

“Nu-uh. Dance with me! The way Shanks likes!” 

Adri’s brain short-circuited for a moment. He knew exactly what she was requesting, a two-person dance meant for parties like this one. One’s he hadn’t… not done with the Captain before. He felt his cheeks heating up. 

But more importantly, Uta had requested lessons on this particular dance before. And so he sighed and relented, shaking his head with a flustered smile. 

“Alright. Luffy?” Adri turned to the young boy for confirmation.

Luffy was quiet, and Adri couldn’t help but sigh again and roll his eyes good-naturedly.

“Uta’s very good at dancing, Luffy. You’re not scared of her being better than you, are you?”

“No way!” Luffy whined predictably. 

“Mhm, that’s what I though.” Adri nodded before putting his hands on his hips. “Alright now, get in the stance I taught you.”

There was a very clear learning curve to this dance, and the difference in ability between Uta and Luffy was… transparent. 

“No Luffy, you’re supposed to let go when you-” Adri cut himself off with a sigh as the two kiddos stumbled over each other. 

“Luffy, it’s not that hard!” Uta puffed out her cheeks. 

Adorable.

“It’s not!” Luffy retaliated. “I’ve got it, you’re the one messing it up!”

Oh boy.

Bickering ensued and Adri put his hands on his hips once more, shaking his head and blowing his bangs out of his face. 

“Alright, let’s take it from the-”

“And what’s going on over here?”

Adri felt the familiar feeling of his Captain’s arm slung over his shoulder, pulling him close to his side. His face erupted in a blush.

“I’m BUSY, Captain!” he whined, a description of his tone too embarrassingly accurate to refute. 

“Dahaha! Busy huh? Luffy, you’re still hopeless,” Shanks teased, tipsy at the least, but not quite belligerent. “Let Pup and I show you how it’s done.”

“What!?” ‘Squeaked’ was another embarrassingly accurate word for such a response. “You’re just trying to embarrass me in front of the kids, don’t be mean, Captain!”

Shanks claimed that pout like a prize. 

“No no, I’m being serious! Come on, Adri, if I can learn then maybe Luffy can catch on, too,” the Captain insisted, a wide grin on his face.

“I-”

“Yeah! Dance with Shanks, Adri!” Like a cute little bell, Uta's precious voice obliterated any sense of defiance in Adri’s body.

Adri’s gaze alternated between the three, the kids peering at him expectantly and Shanks leaning on him a bit in a clearly insistent manner. 

“AUGH, fine,” Adri grumbled, looking at Shanks in a manner that was like a question of ‘can you even stand up straight?’

“Can you even stand up straight?”

Another one of those stupidly charming Shanks laughs. 

“I’m tipsy, not trashed, Adri. I can manage fine,” Shanks reassured with an equally stupidly charming smile.

All Adri could do was sigh and hold out his hand.

“Fine.”

Shanks fell into step so quickly that it made Adri stumble. 

“Aw, what’s this? You’re supposed to be the dancer and I’m supposed to be the stumbling drunk!” Shanks laughed, giving Adri a playful elbow nudge. 

“Captain, you’re being mean!” 

“Sorry, sorry! Let’s try that again.”

This time it was an equal effort, despite Shanks’ state of inebriation it was like watching a well-rehearsed performance.

Well-rehearsed wouldn’t be a bad description, actually, Adri mulled over how many times they had done this. How long it’d been since he taught his carefree Captain such a basic but noteworthy dance. 

Some of the crew seemed to notice this little moment of Adri’s particular brand of revelry, and a whistle from Yassop ensured the rest did too.

“Don’t let Captain knock you down, Pup!” 

“Oh stop!” Shanks laughed, sticking his tongue out a bit at the teasing. 

But Adri barely heard them. All he could feel was Shanks, every cross and twist and spin. He had never danced with anyone that fit alongside him so well. Shanks was drunk and unsteady, but he didn’t falter, and the rhythm didn’t break. The sound of the crew was so far away, even Luffy and Uta’s presence had blipped off his radar. 

His face felt hot.

He was smiling.

“Alright alright, I’m tagging out!” Shanks laughed, bursting the bubble of intimacy all of a sudden.

“I’m next after the Captain!”

“No, Gab, you’re not!” Adri’s senses came rushing back, leaving him a bit disoriented but still his same usual self, small dog syndrome and all. 

“Then why don’t you dance FOR us, Adri?” Shanks clapped him on shoulder, and Adri’s face went so red he felt dizzy. “I think I need a drink first…!”