#and thought swap wanted to answer back with another prank

[fl00mie]

Can you please draw swap sans pranking Papyrus with some incorrect quotes?

Swap sans: WHAT’S YOUR TYPE

Swap Papyrus: Anything, honestly, but nerds especially

Swap sans, desperately, as Swap Papyrus bleeds out: YOUR BLOOD TYPE

Swap Papyrus: Oh! B positive.

Swap sans: DONT TRY TO CHEER ME UP JUST TELL ME YOUR BLOOD TYPE

*Swap Papyrus stares at swap sans*

the sillies

[asterkiss]

I love your blog. Can I make a request for a story? 38. That's almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.

28. “That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant.”

I'm so, SO sorry. Whilst looking at stuff in my inbox I discovered this which was sent through on 09/09/2022(!) omg. Forgive me.

-BETRAY

'Are you going to betray us?'

Mabel's words cut through the summer evening and their amicable conversation until now, swapping frivolity for solemnity. They swere on the sofa window in the attic, backs pressed against the boards of the alcove as they sat opposite one another with knees barely touching.

The window was wide open, with the sounds of the downstairs party drifting up for their enjoyment as music and laughter mixed together.

She hated to interrupt what had been a nice evening until now.

But she had to know.

She continuned to stare earnestly at the demon, awaiting his response to her abrupt question. He had been watching an intoxicated guy stumble around outside, but the moment the words left her lips his smile vanished. Slowly, gradually, his gaze moved back towards her.

The air around them felt stiff and unyielding as Bill remained silent. He always was one for dramatic pauses although right now she could really do without it.

But, just as she was about to beg him for an answer, he spoke.

'If I said no, would ya believe me?'

His expression remained taught, gaze flat. It was a startling contrast to his normal behaviour where everything was exaggerated for effect. Was he annoyed?

'Yes,' she replied.

His eyes narrowed, and she wanted to squirm under his intense scrutinity. He leaned forward away from the wall, the alcove not offering much in the way of personal space as he invaded hers. She straightened up, eyes wide and unblinking as she let him study her. She wasn't lying.

'Really?' he asked, arching an eyebrow. 'Cuz the fact you had to ask would indicate you're not sure. And here I thought I made my new loyalties plenty clear the other day.' He gave her a pointed look and her face reddened.

'Haha, well I mean... you can kiss someone and still betray them.'

'So you do think I'm gonna betray you,' he pointed out, and this time he definitely did look annoyed.

'Wha- no! That’s almost exactly the opposite of what I meant!'

'Then what did you mean, hm?' he asked, tilting his head.

She frowned, hands clenching in her lap. 'I know you won't betray me. I do. But...' She met his gaze. 'What about the rest of my family? Dipper? Grunkle Stan and Ford? Would you betray them? Because if you did, that's just the same as doing it to me!'

He frowned, looking unpleased.

'Well?' she prodded, and this time she was the one to infringe upon his personal space. He clenched his jaw, amber eyes averting to peer out the window where the reflected sunlight made them look like honey.

'...I have no loyalties to anybody but you,' Bill replied slowly as if deciding every word carefully.

Mabel felt her chest squeeze painfully. But before she could speak the demon captured her gaze with his own once again. 'But,' he punctuated. 'If going against those idiots would make you upset, then I suppose I can abstain.'

Her lips stretched into a wide grin.

'But that doesn't mean I'm playing happy families,' Bill retorted, looking annoyed. 'Pine Tree deserves to be pranked on, I ain't stopping that.'

She laughed. 'That's fine, you can keep stealing his towels when he's in the shower.'

'I was thinking of replacing his shampoo with hair dye next...'

'Oooh, do hot pink!'

[rebelrobin86]

Platonic Stobin Month

(Prompt list by @lesbianancyy)

Part 2

Protect (Robin)

Robin got up and walked over to the door of the elevator. "If there really are Russians on the other side, I've got your back Steve."

"I'll protect you Robin." Steve responded.

"You don't need to. I got this." Robin started pressing buttons and looking around for another exit.

"You remember at Family Video when you thought there was a ghost?"

Family Video (Steve)

"I didn't think there was a ghost!" Robin laughed.

"It did creep me out when the Phoebe Cates from Fast Times cardboard cut out was following me!"

"The scene at 53 minutes and 5 seconds, I used to haunt you til you asked Vickie out on a date." Steve reminisced.

"I still can't believe you pranked me like that, do you know how stupid I looked asking Keith to get rid of that thing?"

"It was funny!" Steve laughed.

Upside Down (Robin)

"Steve! It's not funny when you have nightmares, where you're stuck in the Upside Down, but Phoebe Cates turns into Vecna!"

Nightmare (Steve)

"That actually makes it funnier." Steve laughed. "I don't think we'll ever stop having nightmares about the upside down, but we both know being there with Phoebe would not be the worst thing."

"That's true." Robin smiled.

"Do you remember after everything when we all went to the beach for our free day?"

Free Day (Robin)

"Yeah, that was fun. We played volleyball and the winner got to pick the movie. It was me, you, Nance and Eds, but you tried to trick me into swapping Eddie for Nancy."

"You wouldn't go for the trade and kept Nancy on your team." Steve shrugged.

"It was good I did, without her we might not have got to watch Gremlins."

Vampires (Steve)

"I think we had to go to the beach to prove to you that Munson wasn't a Vampire after the Upside Down."

"Well he was bitten by demobats, it was vampire or rabies and I didn't want to take my chances!" Robin replied.

"I still remember you threw garlic bread at him yelling 'VAMPIRE'" Steve affectionately mocked his best friend's silly behaviour.

"It was a test to see if he was a vampire."

"A test?"

"Yes, a test that he clearly failed by screaming at the garlic bread I threw at him." Robin and Steve laughed.

D&D (Robin)

"You remember when he taught us how to play D&D?" Robin smiled. "He really got into being Dungeon Master."

"Taught Henderson everything he knew so he could take over after graduation." Steve remembered proudly.

Wedding Guests/Crashers (Steve)

After a while, the elevator operators came and got Steve and Robin out safely.

"Is it bad that, it was a lot more fun when we had to climb out the one at Starcourt Mall?" Steve groaned.

"Come on dingus, can't be late for the wedding!" Robin grabbed Steve's hand and they ran.

"Henderson?" Steve asked as he burst open the doors in the middle of someone else's wedding ceremony. Everyone looked very annoyed at them and Robin ran out laughing. Steve looked confused.

"Henderson wedding is the next room." The minister answered seriously.

"I'm so sorry, congrats by the way, I-" Robin then dragged Steve back out, before he rambled like she usually did.

Picnic (Robin)

A few weeks later, Robin and Steve sat on a bench in a forest. Steve's daughters running around playing, while those two were eating sandwiches and catching up.

"I still can't believe Dustin and Suzie are actually married." Robin smiled.

"It was even better when we got to the right wedding. Late, but I think they understood."

"Sure." Robin sighed. "It's weird everyone's getting married now, even Tommy."

"I remember you stopped him from beating me up. That was awesome, you're awesome! I wish we'd been real friends in high school."

"Me too but at least after Scoops Ahoy, we were like friends for life." Robin reassured Steve, making him smile.

1983 (Steve)

Steve was at the gas station, his face rightfully beaten up by Jonathan. He looked at Tommy and Carol and started to defend Nancy. They didn't notice Robin watching them, after leaving the store with a bag full of snacks.

"You know neither of you ever cared about her. You never even liked her, because she's not miserable like you two. She actually cares about other people."

"The slut with a heart of a gold." Carol gave a cold hearted response.

"I told you to watch your mouth!" Steve yelled back at her.

"Hey!" Tommy pushed Steve against the car. Robin didn't know why watching this made her so angry, thinking Nancy Wheeler was a priss and Steve was a bully. Robin couldn't stay quiet any longer.

"Can you two losers back off?" Robin yelled. Tommy backed away from Steve, both him and Carol turning their attention towards Robin, laughing like hyenas.

After seeing King Steve the Hair Harrington risk his reputation, standing up to the bullies, made Robin feel braver. "What are you gonna do about it?" Tommy got uncomfortably close to Robin's face, as she spat in his face. Tommy shoved Robin.

"Let's go!" Steve yelled, as Robin ran into the car. Steve drove away, they saw Tommy and Carol yelling at them as he kept on driving.

"I need to go to band practise, but if you can drop me off wherever we won't get chased by those two idiots, I'd really appreciate that!" Robin panted.

"No, I owe you, I'll drop you off at school. Thank you for saving me back there, I'll drop you off, then I need to talk to Nancy."

"Good luck." Robin smiled then got out of the car as Steve dropped her off outside the school. "Thanks for the ride."

[i-am-just-here-for-zenitsu]

Just some gender swap kokoshinbo x douma

Kokoshino X Douna

(no such thing as punctuation and there is probably spelling mistakes but i wrote this over a span of a month soooo)

Kokoshino walked through the woods holding a book and a box filled with sweets she was heading towards dounas cult her mind was racing as she walks forward she went through the window, knowing that the woman's followers wouldn't be to appease when they saw a six eyed woman, just walking through there, wanting to see their "Lord and Savior" as soon as she got into the biggest building at the site, she walked around until she saw a beautiful looking door with a sign on top of it saying true beauty and elegance room. She assumed it was hers. She walked in seeing three men sitting in front of douna with their hands class together as they looked like they were praying to her "Ah Kokoshino-dono come in come in what brings you here"

(Just read stroll from misunderstanding phycopthay)

As douna continue to talk kokoshino stoped her "as much as I love to hear your short rambles. What are you really like?" The higher raking women ask feeding her another sweet douna's face quickly became cold as she looked at kokoshino "why do you want to know me so badly? Why are you doing on this? Tell me now-" she was cut off by kokoshino pulling her onto her lap there facing inches from each other "do you want to know the truth then fine douna I want you to be my girlfriend no I want you to be my wife." She said sternly douna giggled a bit "your wife you don't even like me no one does" she said annoyed douna thought this was a prank imposed by kokoshino and anaza

"Oh i've seen the real you darling i've seen the you that everyone fears and i love it as much as i love the fake you so please marry me" douna still didn't believe her "what do you like about me depending on your answer I'll marry you" Kokoshino put a cocky smirk on her face then spoke "you are an impulsive liar a psychopath, and Absolute and utter monster you are a snake Nobody likes, but you are also so beautiful you know how to perfectly put on a fake smile and you can hide your emotions so well, and you can create new ones out of the blue you are deceitful and you are stupid but you're so smart while doing it and that is why I love you. You are perfect. You are perfect for me And that, my love, is precisely why I am drawn to you. You are flawless. You are the perfect puzzle piece that fits seamlessly with me. It's not just a want; it's an undeniable need." She admitted, as all six of her eyes stared back into the woman on top of hers douna face softened and it started to become pink she hid her face in the crook of kokoshino's neck she tightened the grip on dounas waist "is that a  yes my love?" Kokoshino asked already knowing the answer douna nodded "no no no use your words pretty girl" Kokoshino said to douna while raising her head up with her hand "yes yes i will marry you just please keep calling me those names" she confessed and begged "well of course my darling wife will always have pet names that i will give her we will have a enormous wedding but i don't want you to let anaza hit you anymore if she hurts you tell me I have been looking practically begging the gods for a reason to kill her" Kokoshino said merely as her hands moved and caressed her new founds wife's face "but she is just playing around she doesn't mean too" douna said pouting "No she does mean to you are so smart but you are gullible as shit my love she hates you and I don't fucking like that.* Kokoshino said grabbing her face and forcing her to look at all 6 of her eyes "if she hits you again kill her or call me you are her superior act accordingly my love" Kokoshino released her grip on dounas face douna stood up and walked over to the golden door and locked it then turned around and smiled at her "come here honey" douna made a motion with her fingers kokoshino quickly stood up and trotted too her kokoshino grabbed douna by the waist and pulled her close "I think you know what I want you to do and trust me I don't fucking beg" Douna said wrapping her arms around kokoshino's neck "I won't make you beg but I sure as hell will make you whimper" Kokoshino whispered into dounas ear before kissing and biting her neck earning soft yelps and moans from douna

[talldapple]

Petition to make it so the mark appears when one of the soulmates turns ten. Simon’s a bit older. I’m imaging Johnny being about five or six when it appears on his wrist.

“Ma!” He shouts out into the garden. “Ma! My mark appeared!” He’s waving his right wrist over his head from the back door.

“Oh! What’s the name, dear?”

Johnny takes a good look at it. He doesn’t recognize it as any of his classmates names. “Ah dinnae ken.”

“Well come on out then, let’s get a look.”

Johnny runs out and happily reaches his wrist out to his ma so she can read it for him. She looks quizzically at the name.

Johnny looks up at her. “Who is it, ma? Do you know them?”

Ma shook her head. “Before I tell ye, I need to know that you understand that a soulmark isn’t always a person’s given name, right?”

Johnny nodded. “It can be a name they choose.” He’s heard all the stories from his teacher at school. “One that they like in case the one given to them didn’t fit right.”

Ma smiled and kissed Johnny’s forehead. “That’s right, dearie. It seems the name on your wrist is a chosen name: Ghost.”

“Ghost?!” Johnny looked at his soulmark with fear in his eyes. He was afraid of ghosts. He dropped his wrist and huddled up to his ma’s long skirt. Tears started to well up into his eyes, “Why would they like such a scary name?”

Ma sighed and rubbed Johnny’s back to calm him down. Her mouth turned into a smile of pity. “Ah dinnae ken. You’d have to ask your soulmate. But you do know not all ghosts are scary.”

Johnny still whimpered into her skirt. But with this new information he pulled back. “What?”

“Not all ghosts are scary. In fact, Nana’s got a nice one living in her cupboard.”

Johnny’s tears stopped as he just stared at his ma. There was a ghost living in his Nana’s house and they never told him?! Now he’s never gonna step foot in that house again.

Ma chuckled as a small panic settled onto Johnny’s face. Even though his tears had stopped, more threatened to fall if she didn’t explain anything. She pulled him onto her lap and hugged him close. “Have I never told you about Samantha?”

Johnny shook his head.

Ma started, “We don’t know much about her. All we know is that she is a nice ghost that loves to play pranks on Nana. She’s never scared anyone as long as she’s been in the cupboard. Only pranks.” She looked down at Johnny. “Do you want to know some of her pranks?”

Johnny, still on the verge of panic, nodded. Curiosity got the better of him.

“Well, the first one that I remember from my memory was when she cut all of your aunt’s doll’s hair. We were all asleep, but the next day when we took them out to play, all of the hair was cut off!” Ma continued telling Samantha’s pranks stories ranging from swapping everything around in the kitchen cabinets to turning off the oven at inopportune times.

At this point, Johnny had calmed down and was even giggling at some of Samantha’s pranks. He even started to ask some questions about this silly ghost, “How do you know her name is Samantha?”

“We don’t.” Ma answered with a smile. “Your aunt and I were in front of the cupboard one day when we were talking about a teacher of ours named Samantha. Every time we said the name, a knock came from the inside of the cupboard. We asked if that was her name, and we got another knock. So from then on, we called her Samantha.”

“Can I meet her next time we’re at Nana’s?”

Ma kissed Johnny’s forehead. “Of course you can, dearie. You won’t be afraid of her?”

Johnny nodded.

Ma teased him a little, “Are you sure? I thought my little Johnny was scared of ghosts?”

Johnny blushed and pressed his face into his ma’s shirt. “Maybe some ghosts can be nice. Like Samantha and my soulmate.” Johnny then sprang up and out of her lap. “But all other ghosts are still scary!!!”

————

And that’s were I’m gonna end that. Got really out of hand. I would write out Simon getting his mark, but we all know it’d be something to the tune of ‘Simon gets Johnny written on his wrist, happily shows his mum, dad sees and beats the shit out of him cause he’s a homophobic prick, yada yada yada.’

I like to think that continuing on down this au, Johnny, until actually meeting Simon, just calls his soulmate ‘Samantha’ instead of Ghost. And because Johnny covers his soulmark (for some reason?) Simon just thinks Johnny’s soulmate is actually a girl named Samantha. It just becomes this huge mess cause Simon thinks Johnny has someone else and his soulmark is a one-sided mark, so he won’t harsh that mellow and steal someone’s soulmate, but Johnny fully knows Simon is Ghost, but Simon is not reciprocating the feelings. I love a good miscommunication plot. It’s not revealed until Johnny’s in a hospital bed and he’s got an iv stick out of his arm that Simon sees Johnny’s mark and just fucking snaps. “You knew this whole time?!?!” “Yeah?? I was fucking flirting with ye??” “Then who the fuck is Samantha??” “Oh shit…Fucking Samantha pranking me all the way out here…gotta tell that one to nana right away.”

Soulmate AU where someone's soulmate's name is on their skin but it's not their given name but something that has a deep meaning to them. Soap seeing 'Ghost' on his forearm and groaning because where does he even begin to look?

[arc-misadventures]

ok, I don't remember if I said this idea or dreamed it, but here it goes again just in case.swapped au) jeanne wakes up on a very strange beach, because she doesn't know how well jaune knows about the island, she just sits on the sand to wait just before being taken to the connection area (the white space where they meet) notice a piece of sword that shines in the sand.how she develops her talk at that moment.

A Dream

Jeanne: Ahh?!

Jeanne woke with a startled shriek. Cool water covered her bare feet, she pushed back on her feet to get away from this cold sensation, but then she realized something quite interesting.

She was on a beach.

She remembered crawling into bed, saying goodnight to her team, Nora, Rin, May, Pyrros. She remembered the feeling of warmth that enveloped her body as she slowly fell to sleep.

She thought the cold, wet shock to her feet was, Nora simply playing a little prank on her. But, the smooth feeling of the sand underneath her hands, the cool breeze blowing through her hair, the gentle splash of the waves upon the sand. All of this spoke to one of two things. That, Jeanne was in the middle of a very, very intense dream, or…

They ‘Swapped.’

She was really hopping for the former of the two.

Jeanne laid on the beach for a moment, basking in the warmth of the sun, and the calming aura this place held. She was hopping that, Jaune was on some sort of vacation, probably at the beaches of Vaccuo. They can be quite relaxing.

He needed… He desperately needed a vacation…

As she stood upon her feet, she dusted the sand off her pyjamas. Basking in the beautiful sight before her for a moment longer before turning around to see if someone could tell her where her, Jaune’s friends were.

Jeanne: Oh…

Her breath fled her throat as she stared at the sight before her. A small jungle before her, and in the centre rest a tree that shot up for over a mile into the sky, whose mighty branches blanketed the ground beneath them for miles.

Jeanne was taken aback by the majesty of the sight before her. Never before had she ever seen such a mighty tree such as this one before. This feeling of majesty filled her with a sense dread unlike any other she had yet felt. What serious of events had lead, Jaune to such a place like this? And, where were his friends? Where were his team?! Where was…

Anyone…?

Jeanne: Uhh… Hello! Anyone there?! Can anyone one hear me! HELLO!?!

Her pleas for help were answered only by the splashing of the waves upon the sands, and the wind brushing the leaves together. No living being was out there to hear her cries for help, let alone answer them.

Jeanne made to move towards the surrounding jungles, but she stopped. It would be for the best not to get, Jaune lost when he returned. She knew, Jaune well, not as well as she wanted to, but she knew he had a plan in the making to get back to his friends. That’s just the kind of man he was after all.

So, Jeanne did the only thing she could do; she found a nice spot to sit down on, and just basked in the calm aura that the world presented before her.

She lost track on how long she just sat there, basking in the warm suns rays. Not that she really cared, she just wanted to enjoy the beauty of this moment. She would ask, where, and how, Jaune ended up in such a place later in the, ‘White Room.’

But, before, Jeanne could start to dread to think of what questions she would dare ask him. For there were too many things she could ask him, that would hurt him in ways she couldn���t possibly imagine. She noticed an odd glint of light in the corner of her eyes.

She stood up to approach the odd speckle of light where she recognized it to be the pommel of Crocea Mors. Jaune’s, Crocea Mors. That was another, among many questions she wanted to ask him; Why the new design, how did it function. Simple things such as those. But, the main question as of now was simply this: Why did he leave his sword here?

Jeanne knew she would never just leave her sword laying in the sand like this, and neither would, Jaune. But, as she picked it up she noticed how terribly light it felt in her hands. But, as she withdrew it from the sand it rest in, she realized why his blade felt to light, and a grim, and terrifying realization as she looked upon the blade.

She screamed as she let the blade go, letting it land softly on the ground an action that let her see the damage that had be wrought to the blade all too well. The blade had been shattered into piece’s, where those pieces were, she will never know. But, what she did know was that the tip of his broken blade ran red with blood. But, who’s blood was it?! Is it his, or someone else’s blood?!

‘Where is, Jaune?! I need to get to, Jaune! Jaune, needs my help!’ These were the thoughts that ran through, Jeanne’s mind as she frantically scanner her surroundings. She knew he was not here, where ever here was. But, she knew she needed to find a way, anyway to get to him!

Jeanne: …

Jeanne: Jaune?! JAUNE!! It’s me, Jeanne! I’m here for you! Just tell me, where are you! Jaune! JAUNNNNNE!!!

Jeanne knew that, Jaune couldn’t hear her, no doubt there was no one that could actually hear her. She just needed to let the world know, that she was searching for him.

But, as the sound of the waves, and the wind carried on. And, the tears slowly descended down her face she knew she had failed him again.

As, Jeanne had long since seen that her presence in, Jaune’s had been a blight upon it, unlike none other before. Whatever peace, and tranquility he had. Whatever happiness, and peace of mind he ever had, was always ruined with the shear knowledge that she existed. And, that simple fact broke, Jeanne’s heart in ways she could not fathom to describe.

And, as her heart was broken once again by her own actions she cupped her face in her hands, and fell to the ground in tears. And, by gods did it hurt.

It hurt…?

It shouldn’t have hurt, she was collapsing into a pole of sand, why would it hurt?

And, as she opened her eyes, she realized why it hurt. Gone was the soft waves upon the beaches, the soft breeze in the trees, the looming mountain of a tree in the distance. All that remained now was white. White floors, that seemed endless, and white sky’s with no fathomable end to them. A place so simplistic i. Its nature, one could never forget its existence.

Jeanne had returned to the, White Room.

Jeanne quickly rose to her her feet, and just started running. She had a destination, and she needed to vet there as fast as she could. She knew it didn’t matter which way she ran, she would inevitably find her way to the, Cubes, and there she would find, Jaune. And, if she didn’t, then she just needed to keep on running.

She rand for what felt like an eternity before she finally saw the only noticeable land marks in this gods forsaken place. The Cubes, but, Jaune was no where to be seen. She collapsed on one of the cubes as she caught her breath, bands of sweat dripping down her forehead as she looked past the second cube, hopping to see some sight of, Jaune in the distance.

But, as she just feared, she saw nothing.

Jeanne: We’re not done yet…!

With grim determination, Jeanne rose to her feet once more, and started running like a demon possessed.

As she ran she could see a dark form on the horizon. Jeanne felt a spark of joy fill her heart as she could no doubt see, Jaune. But, as she neared him, that joy was swiftly dashed.

As she neared, Jaune she could see a billowing cloud of black miasma that seemed to shoot small shoots of flame about him. He was hugging his knees, as he buried his face in them, drowning out the pure white of the void, to lose himself in the shadows.

Jeanne: J-Jaune…? Jaune! Jaune, are you okay?!

The cloud of miasma seemed to pick up speed, and blow fiercer around, Jaune to the point where she could feel a spine schilling breeze blow around him.

Jeanne: Jaune! It’s me, Jeanne! I’m here to help you!

As she neared him she reached out to place a hand on his shoulder, only to see him turn his head at a speed that would break a mans neck. She recoiled in shock as those once deep blue were dulled as murky water. His eyes were red from crying as they looked at her with this hollow gaze. Wyes filled with neother hate, nor sadness, but a void festering within his very soul.

He looked at her for a moment longer, long enough for, Jeanne to be able to ingrain the sight of, Jaune’s empty eyes into her heart, and mind forever.

Jaune’s head slowly returned to resting against his knees as the whirlwind of the miasma intensified. Jeanne could fee the strong winds pushing her away, but, Jeanne held her grown as she trued to grab on to her friend.

Jeanne: Jaune! I know I’ve been an unimaginable burden on you! But, I am here for! Please, let me help you! Please!!!

The winds intensified, knocking Jeanne down, forcing her to struggle to rise on her feet as she was pushed away farther, and father away from, Jaune.

Jeanne: Jaune! Please! Don’t push me away! Jaune! JAUNE!!!

Nora: AHH?! (THUD) Oww…

Pyrros: Ahhh?!

May: Wha?! What is it?!

Rin: Jeanne…? Is something wrong?

She was back in her room. For the first time since the, ‘Spawning’ had started she wish she didn’t leave. For, Jeanne was a girl who dreamed to be a hero, just like her counterpart, Jaune. And, the one person who desperately needed saving, was the one person she wanted to save was the one person she could never save.

As this grim realization dawned on her, Jeanne responded in the only way she coulddo: She cried.

She cried, her heart, and soul out as she discovered that this was all she could ever do for him.

And, that broke her.

[wildestflowrs]

🎤Ronancetober Day 5: Multiverse📝

Is it alright to feel this way so early?

She doesn’t like reporters, They’re intrusive and irritating and seems to do their best to interpret her answers to their questions completely wrong. This is why she banned reporters at her performances; no annoying journalists, no wicked photographers aside from the ones she hired herself.

“Thank you, everyone! Good night!” Robin blows a kiss to the audience and waves as she walks off stage. She passes the mic to one of the stagehands and heads to her dressing room, closing the door and sighing. She then wipes her face with a towel and slumps onto the couch. She loves performing, she really does, but it’s been difficult lately; since she publicly announced her breakup with her girlfriend Vickie - another singer - she’d received backlash online and in person.

She gets up and looks through her closet for something more comfortable to wear, deciding on some sweatpants and a sweater. She walks over to the folding screen to get changed and-

“Holy shit,” she practically jumps out of her skin when she finds a woman standing behind the partition, “who the hell are you?”

The curly-haired woman chuckles nervously, “I’m Nancy Wheeler?”

“Did we have an appointment? Sorry, I’ve just been kinda forgetful lately-,” Robin pinches the bridge of her nose.

“Well, uh, no,” Nancy says, and Robin’s jaw sets as she pulls a little notepad out of her pocket and untucks a pen from behind her ear.

“Nope, I don’t speak to reporters, bye,” Robin turns, but the woman grabs her arm.

“Wait!” Robin turns back around reluctantly; the reporter’s striking blue eyes meet hers, “People have been giving you a real hard time lately and I wanted to give a real, honest perspective,”

Robin knows how she feels about journalists, but this gorgeous woman is looking up at her with such determination and her soft hand still lingers around Robin's wrist.

“Fine,” Robin gives in, “but any overstepping and I’m done,”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Nancy smiles and walks off to the couch, “I’ll let you get changed,”

Soon Robin’s sat on her couch next to a cute reporter quickly scribbling things down while she talks, trying not to stare too much when Nancy tucks a strand of her behind her ear, looking up and Robin and grinning after something she had just said.

“I mean, I loved collaborating with Steve and his band, but I just know there’s always gonna be a prank; he’s been doing this for years, you know, we’ve been best friends since college,” a grin tugs at Robin’s mouth.

“What prank did they pull?” Nancy looks up from her notes, genuine interest on her face.

“Swapped my toothpaste for lotion,” Robin laughs a little at the memory, “my mouth tasted like lavender the whole day,”

Nancy laughs too; the sound is sweet as honey to Robin’s ears, clear and purely joyful.

They talk for hours, questions turn into friendly conversation, and the notepad and pen have been abandoned on the coffee table as Robin eventually tries to move closer to the journalist little by little.

They’re sat so close now they’re almost touching, and their hands keep brushing together where they rest on the couch, making Robin’s heart give a flutter every time. Her eyes keep flicking to the speckling of moles on the girl’s hands, following the trail up her arms and to her face, stopping at her jaw when Nancy asks her a question.

“Do you… ever wish for something more?”

That makes Robin wonder. She’s happy perusing music, right? She has friends, more than enough money to get by, enjoys songwriting and playing and singing but; part of her still craves something more.

She thought she could find more with Vickie; they’d met at an awards evening and started hanging out afterward. Hangouts turned into going out on dates and soon they were one of the internet’s favorite celebrity couples. And it was nice, people loved that Vickie and Robin were together, Robin was glad they were together.

But something about their relationship felt artificial. Like they were pressured to date because they were two queer celebrities who started getting close. Like the reality of their picture-perfect relationship stopped at the pictures caught of them walking had-in-hand in the street or sharing food at a restaurant. With Nancy, however…

The reporter’s fingers intertwine with Robin’s.

“I suppose so,” Robin offers a slow, quiet reply, “I guess… it’s difficult to tell what’s real and what’s fake when it comes to relationships with people,”

“Is this real?” Nancy asks almost shyly, those sapphire blue eyes looking up at Robin.

“I think so,”

Robin leans in first, slowly, but Nancy quickly closes the space between them and this kiss feels like magic. It feels more real than anything else Robin has experienced; as if they were meant to meet, meant to find whatever this blossoming feeling was, under any circumstances.

But for now, it was new, and they pulled away to catch their breaths and take the other in. Their hands are still intertwined on the couch, fitting together perfectly and feeling so right and real and it makes Robin want to kiss Nancy all over again.

But, they start off slow; little dates away from paparazzi and expectations, tucked away on little picnics or watching movies snuggled up next to eachother. Nancy relishes in watching Robin write her music, helping her find the right lyrics and singing along with her. Robin gets up each morning with Nancy to make her coffee while she stews over her next article.

Robin becomes familiar with the moles that scattered across Nancy’s person, her curls and the way she styles them, the depth of her eyes, and the love they looked at her with, just as they had done many times before.

Robin Buckley is sure she was meant to meet Nancy Wheeler, in any universe.

The fic and title totally aren’t inspired by Softly by Clairo /sarc

[dollslayer]

The Stand-In

CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Stood up by your date and stranded in one of the nicest restaurants in town, Bucky Barnes just can't let that stand.

Warnings: slight angst, smut, oral (m & f receiving), deepthroating, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it !), if I missed anything let me know!

W/C: 3,807

A/N: I wrote this for @simsadventures 6k mixed adventure challenge (Congrats!) w/ a restaurant setting and the line "If you could just hold my hand and be quiet, that would be nice". If you like it please reblog and comment and tell me what you think! Cheers!

p.s. - Come check out my other fics or find me on AO3 (same name)!

Main Masterlist

7 PM

Your best Jimmy Choos click gingerly as you walk up to the hostess stand at one of the most popular restaurants in Manhattan. He had made the reservation in your name, which you gave to the hostess. She takes a minute to consider you, cocking a brow as she silently clocks your ASOS cocktail dress. You looked chic enough that she could forgive you. Her moment wasn’t lost on you, this part of the Upper West Side was so stuffy so you put on your best.

Feeling slightly self-conscious about your attire you brushed the feeling off quickly. He would be here soon and he’d reassure you how beautiful you look. When you’d met for coffee he’d make you feel so sexy and confident with how sure of himself he was. So when he asked you to dinner at one of the most renowned places in the city and said he wanted to talk tonight you accepted immediately.

“Right this way” the hostess said and broke you out of your self-doubting stupor and guided you towards a some-what secluded table towards the back of the restaurant.

“Here are some menus for you two, if you’d like anything to drink while you wait, your waiter should be here soon”, she sent you an artificial smile and turned on her heel back to the stand.

You picked up a menu and it left you reeling at the prices. You had half a mind to text him and see if he wanted to go somewhere else. Based off of the way he dresses and how he had tipped the barista on your first outing you thought better of it. He’d said he wanted to treat you, so you’ll let him.

7:15 PM

You decided to wait to order anything to drink until he got here, too afraid of the price tag attached to any bottle of wine on the menu.

You took a sip of your water and checked your texts for the second time since sitting down. Still nothing, you didn’t want to text him just yet, you knew he was busy and you didn’t want to seem overbearing. You knew he was a CFO and he’d be coming from the financial district when traffic was insane. You could forgive him. You take another sip of your water hoping it’ll wash all of your doubts away. Besides, it’s not like he’s late-late, he’s like, fashionably late, he’s working-man late.

7:30 PM

Okay, so he’s late-late, don’t panic. Sometimes things happen, he’s only human and this is only your second date.

Your waiter approaches the table again, eyebrows raised expectantly at you. The smug look on his face says he’s thinking what you’re too afraid to.

You order yourself a $25 martini. Your waiter promises to return and you finish off your water.

Time to craft the perfect text that says ‘Hey I’m here, where tf are you?’ without actually asking where the fuck he’s at. You tap away nervously on your phone.

‘Hey, I’ve got a table towards the back, closer to the end of the bar’ Perfect.

7:45 PM

You’re still sitting solo at the table, you feel the beginnings of humiliation creep into your features. You feel warm, your brows form a seemingly permanent crease of worry, and you are trying everything in your power to suppress the tears you felt building up.

You don’t make eye contact with your waiter when he stops by again, playing it off like you were sending a text. But you tell him you’ll be right back so that he doesn’t give up your table.

You walk quickly to the bathroom hoping no one will notice your trembling face. You feel just like a middle schooler that got dumped at the dance. You make it to a bathroom stool and dial your best friend, Wanda.

“Is everything okay? You’re supposed to be out with your mystery date aren’t you?” She had answered almost immediately.

You sniffled a bit and took a shaky inhale. “Y-yes, our reservation was for 7 and he put it in my name, I texted him once already but I don’t wanna seem too overbearing for a second date, y’know? But something feels off. I don’t know, maybe I’m being crazy.”

“You’re definitely not being crazy, it sounds fishy to me. If he doesn’t answer in five minutes I want you to leave and come straight over. I’ll have white Russians and Drag Race waiting for you” Wanda always knew just what to say, just how to make you feel. You were grateful for her.

You sighed into the receiver. “Thanks, babe, I’ll let you know what happens either way”. You hung up and grabbed some toilet paper to dab at the corners of your eyes. You knew you’d need an extra minute to compose yourself as you faced the truth.

He’s not coming, he’s not texting me back, he probably regretted setting the date which is why he put the reservation in my name, I won’t be hearing from him again. Just pay your tab, smile, and leave. You got this.

7:52 PM

Checking your appearance in the mirror one last time you let out a final sigh and push open the door back to the dining room. Your walk to your table begins to slow when you notice someone is sitting at your table. A rather tall, unfamiliar someone.

Did the waiter really give away the table? I’ve been gone all of 7 minutes! What do I even say to this stranger? Should I just grab my bag and go? Hopefully it’s still there.

Your final steps towards your seat are nervous and uneven. The man in the chair opposite yours must’ve heard you and he faces you. You’re struck with an unfamiliar but extremely handsome face. The look of surprise must be tangible because he laughs and slight wrinkles form at the edges of his eyes. Who the fuck is this guy? Well he hasn’t stolen my purse so there’s that.

“I-” You lean over to grab your purse when you’re cut off mid-apology.

“I’m so sorry, sweetheart, you know how it is at work. Sit down, I ordered a bottle of wine for the table”. The man said.

You sat down slowly and felt so stiff and uncomfortable in the chair. Were you being pranked? Was this part of some very elaborate joke? Before you could ask any of those questions the man reached across the table and grabbed your hand.

“If you could just hold my hand and be quiet, that would be nice” He said as his thumb grazed your knuckles. You were slightly stunned by his boldness. You complied, if only out of shock and hoped he’d explain himself a little better or let you go in time for you to make an exit.

He leaned in closer to you, to anyone else it would’ve looked like an intimate moment during any normal date. He looked you in the eyes while he kept hold of your hand and you realized how warm he was, how clear his eyes were. You took a deep breath through your nose and tried to play it cool.

“I’ve been at the bar for a while now, it seems like whichever idiot decided to stand you up made a grave mistake.” Your brows pinched together and he continued, “I was with a friend talking business but he left and you look like you needed to be saved from the incident so here I am. James Barnes, but you can call me Bucky.”

You were unsure what to do with the information just given to you. Yes, it would’ve been embarrassing to pay your tab and leave alone after sitting there for almost an entire hour by yourself, but it was also embarrassing that this man had noticed and you certainly didn’t need anyone looking at you like some damsel in distress.

You caught yourself from scoffing completely and schooled your features. “I… appreciate that you’d do that for me but I don’t want anyone’s sympathy, especially not a date.” You tried to pull away when his hand gently squeezed yours.

“Please- I- I didn’t mean to make it sound like I’m doing this out of pity. Whatever happened here is unfortunate, yes. But you’re also very beautiful and you’re here by yourself so why not ‘shoot my shot’ as I believe the kids are saying these days? Think of me like a stand-in for the other guy, but y’know, better” he replied playfully.

A very brief moment of contemplation was solidified by your lack of notifications on your phone. Why not? He’s good looking and he’s doing you a favor.

You had to at least afford a small chuckle at that. “So ‘Bucky’, huh? Well I don’t have any cool nicknames but you can call me by my first name.” You gave it to him and he repeated it back to you, a wry smile on his face.

8:05 PM

Still no texts from him but you did text Wanda to tell her everything worked out and there’d be details to come. She’d go into full on mama bear mode if you hadn’t updated her.

“So, Bucky, what do you do? Do you live here in Manhattan?” You asked before taking a sip of your wine (which you didn’t dare check the price of per bottle).

“Brooklyn, actually, but a lot of my business is here. Have you heard of Buchannan hospitality?” He asked.

Your brain snagged itself on that name. That sounds familiar? Where have I seen that? Oh wait! Didn’t you see him in the Forbes ‘30 under 30’ list last year?

You’d meant to answer him but unfortunately all that came out was a confused “Forbes?” at which he laughed a little bit and nodded.

“Yeah you might’ve seen me there. I own some hotels and lounges around Manhattan and Brooklyn. What do you do?” He had brushed off his accolades so quickly, wanting instead to know about you, this random girl that had been stood up.

Shit, your mid-level marketing job doesn’t stand up to this in the least. You took a sip of the wine and answered him, explaining you were second in command of your small company’s marketing department.

He seemed genuinely intrigued and you two ended up talking business and swapping office and university disaster stories until the main course arrived. You dug into your meal, savoring the taste and relishing in the unusual turn of events.

8:47 PM

The plates have been cleared away and the wine glasses refilled. Bucky was proving to be great company and as oddly as it started you were grateful to be sitting here with him. You’d nearly forgotten about your would-be date and decided to check your phone one last time.

You had 11 unread texts, 10 of them from Wanda wanting a play-by-play and one of them from the man that had stood you up. You opened it and sighed. ‘Can’t make it tonight, baby, promise to make it up to you soon’.

You scoffed to yourself. He’s not gonna say where he’s been? Or even say sorry? Douche.

You put your phone away and looked back up to Bucky who was eyeing you with playful curiosity.

“Lemme guess, that was the guy who was supposed to be seeing you’s sorry ass excuse followed by a flimsy apology” He said as he drank from his water glass.

“You’re 1 for 3. It was him but he didn’t apologize or try to explain himself. Should’ve known when he put the reservation under my name and not his that something might be up and when he wasn’t there on time.” You said more to yourself than to Bucky.

“What’s his name?” Bucky asked.

“His name’s Brock Rumlow,” Bucky’s expression changed just slightly at this. “I think he works at some firm in the financial district. We only ever went out the once before this so I don’t really remember.” You explained. “What? What’s that look for? Please don’t tell me you know him”.

“Sorry to say that I do. Sorry to say I know his wife too” He said a little more quietly.

You felt humiliated all over again, the same feelings that you experienced in this very seat not an hour ago still had you by the gills it would seem.

Bucky reached for your hand again, running the pads of his thumb across the ridges of your knuckles in an attempt to calm you.

“I’m sorry sweetheart, I didn’t mean to make you upset, but you definitely ought to know that Rumlow is no one that deserves your time” Bucky said in earnest.

His words were nice but you’d need some time to get over this embarrassment on your own. In the meantime, you really were enjoying Bucky’s company so you decided to let it distract you.

Bucky flagged down a waiter, signaling him to bring the check. He took one glance at it and set his card inside. As you reached for the bill with your own card in hand he gave it to the waiter before you could even get a peek. He was so nonchalant when he looked at you.

“Don’t even think about it. So tell me, is the night over or are you game to spend a little more time on me?” He asked. This is the second time he’d been dominant but kind in one breath. You weren’t entirely sure how you felt but you didn’t dislike it.

If you went home you’d just be wallowing in your own self pity, or you’d go to Wanda’s and do it but if you go with Bucky you could delay that feeling for a bit longer. Out with a stranger it is.

“Where to?” You asked him.

9:59 PM

A private booth on the top floor of what he said was one of his favorite lounges turned out to be where to. You were relieved to find there was no dancing, as you had two left feet and half a bottle of wine by now. When you got to the booth you stuck with water, knowing you’d need to get yourself home.

Bucky had insisted on one glass of champagne ‘to chance encounters’ he’d said. You agreed but just one. You found yourself closer to him while you talked, your knees touched and his hand found its way to your leg. It didn’t dare to move higher up, just staying there like a comforting weight almost while you conversed.

You were rambling on about the time you and your cousin took your dad’s car for a joyride when you were 14. You were laughing the whole thing off when you realized he wasn’t laughing with you. You had worried for a moment that you’d bored him when you saw the soft yet intense look in his eye and tilted your head with curiosity.

“You’re very beautiful, you know that right?” He didn’t let you answer as he shifted closer. “I’d like to kiss you, is that alright with you?”

Oh. You were caught off guard by the abruptness of his question. Suddenly shy, all you could do was give a small nod and bite your lip in anticipation. His full lips were soft and almost as warm as his hands, which were holding you in an embrace. One of your hands had made their way to his hair and one on the outside of his lower thigh. You sighed as you kissed him back.

It was soft but insistent, things became a little more passionate as you swiped your tongue into his mouth and you both let out a small moan. You didn’t want to stop kissing Bucky, it just felt right.

He finally broke the kiss as one of his hands still rested at the nape of your neck. You were breathless, this man had kissed the daylights out of you. If he could do that with his tongue imagine what else he could do with it. You were both panting softly, sorting through what to make of things and where to go from here.

“I don’t know about you, but I wanna keep doing that, but this might not be the best place for it. You can say no if you want to, and you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, but I’d love to take you home and treat you right” He said with unwavering eye contact.

Well how on Earth could I say no to that even if I wanted to? Wait doesn’t he live in Brooklyn?

“Let’s go back to mine, probably closer” You said. He nodded in agreement and sent a text to his driver to come pick you both up.

10:40 PM

You did indeed find out what else that tongue of his could do, you were finding out right now. He had made you cum once from his tongue alone already but he added to thick fingers and started pumping them into you, making a scissoring motion that hit you just right. You arched your back and pushed his face in deeper as you cried out, signaling your second orgasm.

Completely drunk in the afterglow of it, you wanted to keep this feeling forever. You wanted to show him what you could do too. You got up albeit with a little shakiness and hovered over him. You kissed his neck and slid your hand down to meet his groin. He was still in his briefs and you pulled the elastic band down with ease.

His cock sprang free and you had to hide the slight surprise you felt looking at the sheer size of him. You were always told you were good in bed so time to really put yourself to the test. You kissed your way down to his pelvis and your hand started working him. Staring back up at him you maintained eye contact while you kissed the dab of pre-cum that pooled at the head of his dick.

He shuddered but you kept staring at him, and in what you have to say was a pretty proud moment for you, you held his gaze while you took him slowly and in one go. You closed your eyes and moaned, feeling him in the back of your throat.

“Shit, oh my god. Are you gonna…?” He was lost for words so you decided to answer him by getting to work. You started slowly, up and down, letting yourself get used to his size and reminding yourself to breathe through your nose and stay relaxed.

His moans were growing louder and his breathing heavier, you knew he was close and you were wondering if he was going to let you finish him. You got your answer when he pulled you off of him by the hair.

“As bad as I want you to finish what you started, I wanna feel you first.” He panted.

“So what’s stopping you?” You asked playfully. A small shriek escaped you as he flipped you under him. He lined himself up with your entrance and thrust in slowly. You could tell he was using a lot of restraint but that was quickly forgotten as you remembered how big he was. You suddenly appreciated the slow pace.

As he became fully sheathed inside of you you let out a loud moan that was quickly silenced by his lips on yours. A few more small thrusts and he was nearly fucking your cervix. You felt unbelievably full.

“Had no idea how talented that mouth was of yours, doll. Trying to make me cum without getting to fuck you though? Now that’s just cruel. I think you need to pay for that, don’t you?” He asked playfully as his thrusts became a little harder and forceful.

You could only nod and moan as he picked up his pace. Your hands clung to his shoulders for dear life and you whimpered and keened while he railed you into your mattress. Finally getting used to the feeling you reached down to play with your clit.

“Did I say you could touch yourself?” He asked in between grunts.

Your eyes rounded and you shook your head.

“I wanna be the one to touch you. Make you cum. Only me.” He forced out as he replaced your fingers with his. He made tight, quick circles around your clit but didn’t let up on his pace as he fucked you closer and closer to a third orgasm.

“Your pussy’s making it fuckin’ impossible for me to hold out any longer, need you to cum, sweetheart. Cum all over my fuckin’ dick.” His words sent you right over the edge and you did as you were asked.

Not two seconds later he cried out and emptied himself inside of you, sending a few final pushes into you before taking himself out and dropping down on his side.

You leaned over and kissed him with what little breath you two had left. Your sweat mixed together but you didn’t mind.

His hands provided that comforting weight as he brought one to your shoulder and the other to your hip. He kissed the tip of your nose and watched you begin to drift off to sleep. He could probably use the rest himself and decided to close his eyes for a bit.

9:30 AM

You woke up in a half empty bed, but before you could let yourself be too disappointed you heard the sound of your shower turning off. You padded down to the bathroom and opened the door to find Bucky toweling off. He gave you a lopsided grin.

“Good mornin’, I would’ve asked you to join me but you looked so peaceful I didn’t wanna wake you.” He explained. “If you’re not sick of me, do you maybe wanna grab some breakfast?”

You shook your head and reached past him to turn the shower back on.

“No way. I make the best pancakes and as a thank you for everything last night, I insist on making some for you.” You smiled up at him, hopeful he’d agree.

“Well I hope you know what you’re up against, I’m a very insatiable man.” He joked back.

You hit him with a washcloth and laughed. “Oh believe me I know. Gimme 15 and I’ll be right out.”

He nodded and closed the door behind him. You let your mind wander back to last night as you washed off the sweat that lingered from the night before.

10:15 AM

You set down two plates stacked mile-high with pancakes and bacon. You held your coffee mug up to his and clinked against it.

“To chance encounters” You said with a smile.

[yeojaa]

stay gold.

pairing.  jjk x f!reader.  rating.  explicit.  tags.  blond!jk being a good boy?  idk.  that’s literally it.  wc. 3k.  beta reader.  @hobi-gif​, ofc.  author note.  this was meant to be pwp but i cannot shut up so here is this mess that is neither pwp nor something with a legit plotline. 🤠 blame blondie.

Having a content creator boyfriend is fun.  Usually.

You get to go on cool trips, he gives you all of the random shit his sponsors send him, and you get to preen like a cat that ate the canary when his DMs blow up with hundreds of messages.  

Sure, there are the downsides.  All his stupid pranks - the ones that piss you off when you’re trying to do your makeup, the ones that have him dunking ice cubes on you while you’re in the middle of a shower - and his perpetual recording, camera glued to his hand and if not that, then his phone.  There are the rude comments - the oh, that’s his girlfriend? He could do better was a common one - and the long hours he spends editing, holed away in his office;  the beyond inappropriate packages he gets in the mail, thongs and other things that he immediately tosses away with a reassuring tilt of his pretty head.

You don’t mind it though.  He enjoys it, thrives on it, and you’re there to support him.

But you’d never expected this.

This Adonis standing in the doorway, freshly styled strands pushed back from his forehead, glimmering gold falling across his eyes.  He looks, for lack of a better word, unreal.

(You’re not often speechless.  Can’t be, when you’re dating someone like Jeon Jungkook and everything he does either makes you laugh or infuriates you.  Boring isn’t a part of his vocabulary and you’ve learnt to keep up with his antics over the years.)

(Still, this comes close, stealing all the air from your lungs.)

“Hey, baby.”  It’s his usual greeting, offered without hesitation as he crosses the threshold and tosses his keys into the catch-all by the door.  Kicks off his chunky sneakers and peels his sweater over his head, effectively tousling the tawny threads.

He’s so handsome it’s outright disgusting, leaving you gaping up at him from your post on the couch.  Gives you very little to work with as he shimmies down the hall, grabs an apple off the kitchen island, and then not-so-gracefully plops himself down beside you.  

You still haven’t found your words by the time he takes two gigantic bites, flesh crunching between his teeth, big doe eyes sparkling like he’s stepped right out of a Disney film.

“D’you like it?”  

Did you?  Well, obviously.

You’ve never imagined Jungkook blond.  He’d gone through a phase in college, colours of the rainbow rotating through the ends of his hair.  Brown, red, orange, blue.  You’d loved each hue but this was something else entirely.  (Different even from the two months he’d spent as full-on ginger, committing far too hard to his Haikyuu!! Halloween costume.)

This version of him is steeped in some twisted fantasy, a dream crafted by years of bedtime stories and happily ever afters.  It screams Prince Charming and has you reaching for him before you know what you’re doing, threading fingers through the surprisingly soft silk that curls over his ears and looks so lovely next to the silver of his piercings.  

You mean to be gentle, to comb delicately through flax but fuck.  He looks so good you want to devour him.  (You can only imagine your face - a lovesick puppy brought home from the pound.)

There’s still apple in his mouth, juice tracking down his chin because you’re really making it quite hard for him to chew when you’ve got him like this, two hands on either side of his face, holding him in place.  Inspecting him like a piece of meat as he peers at you, deceptively innocent and amused.  “That’s a yes?”  

An answer comes in the form of a kiss, of limbs rearranging and settling directly into his lap.  Knees wide, chest to chest, you can’t even be bothered by the sickly sticky feel of his skin, the way his hands are too cold to be creeping up beneath the hem of your - his - shirt.

(Where had he put the apple?  You know it’s not finished, two bites in and left to roll all over the rug.  You’ll give him shit for that later, when you’re not so distracted.)

“You look like Barbie,”  you mumble against his lips, into the warmth of his mouth.  You ignore the way he laughs, swallowing it down with a pass of your tongue and too much spit swapped, a string of saliva caught between you when you come up for air. 

Somehow, you’re still lightheaded, all your thoughts framed into the familiar silhouette of the boy beneath you.  Cherry red lips - your fault, from all your biting and teasing and the balm you’d applied earlier - and blond hair.  Who would’ve known that was your weakness?

(Deep down, you know Jungkook as a whole is the issue.  That it’s your stupid handsome boyfriend with his lopsided smile and bunny teeth, dimples and that scar on his cheek.  This is just a new layer to be explored, another reason you love him added to the Jungkook Best Boy jar that sits front and centre in your mind’s eye.)

“Don’t say that,”  he groans, equal parts reproach and affection, palms resting where they belong, nestled over your spine.  Long fingers toy with the soft cotton of your thong, brushing over the seamless material with small repetitive motions. 

You realise then his hands aren’t the only things heating up.

The two of you have an understanding, an abiding awareness of the boundaries of your relationship and the roles you take on.  Best friend, occasional sucker for the sake of a TikTok, lover.

He knows how much you hate your dirty laundry being aired - does his very best to never post anything that might be misconstrued, ensures he only ever portrays you in a good light because the internet could be cruel.  (Even if he argued with you in the quiet of your home, he’d keep you safe outside of the four walls.)  

You know how he needs his quiet time but that sometimes, a night out was unavoidable, a part of his life he - and by extension you - couldn’t always say no to.  (Even if you were achy and tired by midnight, glaring down at your phone as he made his rounds, exchanged contact details and rambled about shit that meant nothing.)

He’s learnt to make your eggs the way you love them:  soft in the centre, covered with too much pepper.  He never washes your clothes in hot water (not after The Great Sweater debacle) and he always makes sure not to use your special memory foam pillow.  

You kiss him goodnight without fail and play with his hair until he falls asleep;  you bury your face against his chest when he’s had a long day, signing your love with the felt-tip of your lips.  You bring him fresh cut fruit when he’s been working for more than three hours and wash his hair when he’s stressed. 

Knowing each other was easy;  loving each other was like breathing.

This, though, is different.  New.  Special.  

He’s never been like this before, glazed over in the eyes, patience wearing thin.  Sat so well, picture perfect beneath you and cornsilk crown lighting his entire expression up like a halo, he’s ethereal. 

“Baby,”  he whines, grits through his teeth as you roll your hips that much slower, the glide impossibly smooth thanks to the lychee watermelon lube he’d received to his PO box.  (One of the items you hadn’t thrown away from that package, together with a handful of other toys that’d come in handy over the months.)

You’re shameless, soothing a hand across his cheek, thumb slipping past his lips.  (You ignore the noise of indignation, meet it with a twinkling laugh of your own.)  It sweeps over his tongue, pressing down in tandem with the second sound - one that echoes out of his chest, a growl that pitches into a whine and makes your ears buzz.  “Hi, baby.”

“Stop teasing.”  It’s practically begging - or as close to it as Jungkook will get.  It draws a smile and another pass of your thumb, gliding across his gums to slot against the interior of his cheek.  You’ve got him fishhooked, immobile, even as he glares up at you.

(He’s so, so handsome.  Looks utterly out of it even as he tries to harden his gaze, coerce you into doing what he wants with that stare that makes your heart lurch pathetically in your chest.)

“You don’t like this?”

You know he does - that he loves being pampered.  That he’ll rarely ask, instead pouting at you from wherever he sits until you turn to putty under his gaze and smother him in all the love you have to offer.

“I do.  I just—”  The rest of his words don’t come, stolen by a gasp when you grind against him, swollen head of his cock bumping against your clit.  He’s making a mess of you both, back arching, hips rising, hands fisted into the sheets even as he chases friction like a dog does its tail.  The warmth between your legs is so close he looks as if he’ll lose his mind, rutting against your cunt like just the right angle might get him what he wants.  “Fuck, baby.”

“I’m trying,”  you retort, mouthful of teasing that only earns you another glare, some poor semblance of one as he bites into the webbing of your hand, bucks up impatiently.

“Please.”  He tries again, a different tactic this time, all sugar-spun sweetness.  Strawberry shortcake rather than sour cherry pie, so eager to get what he wants that he’s not above pulling out all the stops.  A hand risen from the sheets, digits decorated in ink swimming over your skin, sinking into the meat of your thigh.

(He doesn’t push though.  Knows you’ll pull the moment he does.)

“Please?”  An echo chamber, endlessly teasing, and a ducked head, lips finding the sweat-slick column of his throat.  Just one drag of your tongue has him crumbling further, careful composure slipping with each swivel of your hips, the edge of your teeth.  There’s nothing but desperation radiating off him, demand choked back when you drift lower, tracing over his chest, teasing him in the ways you know best.  

It’s all so unnecessary, drawing out what he wants until he’s a goner, three seconds from combusting beneath you.  You’d give him anything he ever asked for - offer it all up on a silver plate, a meal fit for a king.  This is just fun, different and exciting. 

You relent with a minor adjustment, settling yourself against him, face dropped into the crook of his neck.  “Slowly.”

He repeats after you, uncertain and hopeful;  his hand falls further, warmth descending to pull you close, hold you still.   As much as he needs this - needs you - he loves the slow burn just as much.  The stutter of his pulse gives him away, erratic beneath your touch.  He’s a thousand miles above the clouds, floating on cloud nine;  every second passed is another tingle of his toes, a tightening of the coil in his stomach.

When he aligns himself against your core, pre-cum pearling over his tip, he does exactly as you’ve asked.  Sinks into you at such a leisurely pace you wonder if you might be the one who splinters apart, shatters into a million tiny pieces at the way he splits you open.  

“Good?”  Jungkook asks so nicely it’s impossible for you to say no, to deny him this tiny bit of reassurance.  

(Maybe it’s the way he looks, crowned in glittering gold, painted by Fra Angelico.  Or maybe it’s how his smile spills like sunshine, a peachy pink horizon dragging over the apples of his cheeks, burnt red like their namesake.)

(Whatever it is, it’s everything you want, packed perfectly and pouting.)

“Good boy,”  you purr, breath hitching once he’s sheathed to the hilt, seated so deeply within that you swear you can feel him in your throat.

You’ve never felt so full before - close to overflow, taunted and taxed by ridges and veins, each flex of his hips that drives him somehow further within your fluttering walls.  So full you might burst, that you can’t possibly hold yourself together when he begins to move, fucking you tenderly, as if he can feel the weight of the moment.  

There’s something happening.  A shift in the air, in the axis of your planet that revolves around him.  It falls on its side, spins wildly out of control, and you’re emotional.  It’s not just his hair - that gilded crown he wears, heavy heavy heavy like aureate coin - or the impossible dark of his eyes - blown out, an entire galaxy devoured by the supermassive black hole that is his pupils.  It’s the things you can’t see, the pieces beneath skin, soft and jammy, the tongue-tart sweetness.

(The thing with Jungkook is that he doesn’t let go, refuses to fully submit, always so careful to regulate his voice when things get to be too much.  He’ll blink back his tears, stifle a sob, even as his breath disappears from nothing but a delicate brush of his chest.)

You take his vulnerability as a treasure, hold it close and craft a chest for its home, promise to keep it safe even while you're the one who poses the most danger.  When it’s your teeth and tongue that eviscerates the soft of his flesh, makes him keen and gasp, heart pounding like hooves, beat imprinted against, under, into your palms.

When he begs you to move - manages the request in a broken articulation that makes you giggle - you give, swivel your hips in a figure eight, an infinity of motion that never ends.  

You take all he has to offer and sing your praise into the wet of his mouth.  Lick over teeth and gums and trade spit for love;  know there’s only more where that came from, that the fountain begs to overflow as he finally - finally - breaks that much more, gripping your hips gentle as can be.  Hands soothe up and down, an unspoken plea in how he thumbs your hip bones, taps hopefully over the small of your lower back.

He doesn’t need to speak for you to hear him. 

It’s more than a kiss forming against your skin.  It’s a confession of adoration, sealed by the frame of his mouth, cemented by the sting of his teeth.  It’s I love you without saying it, plastering the pecks along your spine, placing them safely in all the spaces you’ve created for him.

It’s also an apology, because he’s just torn your castle to pieces, shattered your entire fantasy into smithereens.

He hadn’t expected you to react the way you had, rolling off him as if he hadn’t just been chasing the sweet bliss of release, splitting your walls and making you wail above him.  It has him pouting, utilising the one thing that melts you down like candle wax.  

“Baby,”  he whines, reaching for you, needy and horny and so hard he imagines all the blood has rushed from his head straight to his cock.  Everything spins when he moves with you, scrambles across the California king to paw at your hip.  

He’d been so good for you - wasn’t that enough?

“Don’t,”  you grumble, searing his insides with just one look.  (It shouldn’t be as hot as it is.)

“But—”  A plea punctuated by groping hands, eager as always, smoothing over the swell of your ass, flesh squeezing between knuckles.  He’d normally let this go - fuck into his closed fist in the shower after he’s done something to cut playtime short - but he can’t help it now.  He’s been on the edge for so long, lit up in neon that demands to be seen, heard, felt.

“Don’t dye it again.”  

Oh?

That has him reeling, laughing, such a stupid grin across his face.  It devours everything else, spearing dimples into place as he pulls you against him.  You can feel his smile forming against your skin, the wet drag of his tongue as he sucks a welt into the sensitive spot of your shoulder.

“You wanna play with Barbie, baby?”  It’s such a stupid line - utterly sophomoric and riddled with teasing and yet the delivery has you shivering in his arms, equally childish huff splitting your lips.

Jungkook doesn’t listen to you often - not about silly things like this - but he figures he can, just this once.

“I won’t,”  he chirps, sneaking another kiss, stamping another smooch.  It’s working exactly as he wants, stilling your protesting limbs as he cages you to him, slips his hand back where he most wants to be.  The glide is perfect, a mixture of arousal and fruity lubricant;  he slips a finger in without resistance, grinding his palm against your clit. 

“R-really?”  Of course you don’t believe him.  He messes with you too often, plays too many pranks.  (He deserves that.) 

His promise comes too easy, driven by how nice you feel, how pretty you sound when he presses another digit in along the first.  The scissor of his fingers is languid, exploring for the spots that make you breathless as he hums a noise of affirmation against your neck;  he fucks you open as if he has to, as if you aren’t already dripping, eagerly sucking him in.  “Really.”  

“Put it in then, Ken doll.”

He laughs - and then he does.  In bed, with your knee hooked over his, pace slow and sure and sinful.  In the shower, bent over with his hands bruising your hips.  In the kitchen for a late night snack, another apple in his mouth and your hands in his hair.

Maybe blonds did have more fun. 

tag list.  @neverthefirstchoice​ @youwannabelostandnotbefound​ @codeinebelle​

[shyvioletcat]

Yeah... I'm the worst...

*Redid the tags, got told some weren’t working. Sorry*

~ Masterlist ~

~~~~~

There was an ugly silence in the room, no one quite knowing how to break it. A small sob had Rowan looking back at Lyria, her hand cradling her stomach. The gesture caused a pain so sharp in Rowan’s chest that he choked on it because of the lies that rested beneath her hand. He had no real sense of reality as he stood there looking between his wife and the man she had been unfaithful to him with. His brain was still processing what he had overheard.

“You never gave me a chance.”

“Have you told him that the baby may not even be his?”

Rowan’s knees went weak and he thought he may start vomiting. This was a joke. Some sick cruel joke his friends had decided to play on him, Aelin always liked to pull a good prank. But the longer he looked at Lyria and from the look on her face the way she was trembling… this was no joke.

“Rowan. We–”

“No,” Rowan said, not bothering to look at the other man in the room. “This is not coming from you.”

Rowan’s brain was finally catching up with him and he had so many questions. The first and foremost was how exactly Sam rutting Cortland got to be standing in his kitchen as a possible father of the baby his wife was carrying.

“I want you to leave,” Rowan said to Sam. “I’m leaving this room and I want you gone.”

He didn’t bother to address Lyria as he left the kitchen and started down the hallway. She had two options here, she could come and find once showing her guest out or she could leave. Rowan hoped that for the sake of his sanity she chose the former. A dilemma struck Rowan as he stood in the hallway, only overhearing hushed sounds of conversation through his home. Where was he going to go? He didn’t want to have this conversation in the bedroom, it felt too intimate as the ravine between him and Lyria was gaping wider by the second. He wasn’t going to go back out to any of the rooms beyond the hallway and risk running into Sam again. That really only left him one option.

Rowan turned the door handle of the baby’s room and stepped inside.

The walls were painted a soft yellow, bits and pieces of baby paraphernalia were stacked in piles around the room that they hadn’t got around to sorting through. Seems they had a few more things they needed to sort through.

The fact that Sam was possibly the father of the baby had him reeling. Aelin and Sam had been broken up for a while now. Rowan had liked the guy, but he could tell that the two of them weren't meant to be. Sam and him were close to friends by the time the relationship fell apart, not enough that once Aelin had let him go Rowan had kept in contact. There's was a lot of missing information between then and now. Gods, had Aelin known and not told him? Is that why she had been getting progressively more distant over these past months?

Rowan waited, the feeling of wanting to empty the contents of his stomach returning in full force. His ears were straining for any indication that Lyria was still house. The front door closed and then he heard soft footsteps. She went to the bedroom first, saying his name softly–her voice wavering. She obviously didn’t find him there so she finally came to him. The door squeaked as she pushed it open and Rowan made a mental note to fix that before the baby came, he didn’t want them waking up because of the noise. That thought had him closing his eyes and leaning on the box that held the pieces of the cot, not even knowing where his future was heading.

Lyria was silent, waiting for Rowan to say something. So he did.

“Why?” he asked simply.

“I don’t know,” Lyria said quietly.

“Yes you do,” Rowan said coldly. “Stop trying to spare my feelings. Just tell me.”

Lyria walked over to the rocking chair in the corner, the only real piece of furniture in the room and eased herself down. At any other time Rowan would be over there, helping and hovering. But right now he was rooted to the spot.

“It was just after we had that big fight, the one about my car,” Lyria explained. That had been well over a year ago, this wasn’t the cause of the current problem. “I went out and I randomly ran into Sam. We got talking, he’d just had that messy breakup with Aelin so we were commiserating together. We exchanged numbers.”

“And then what? Swapping numbers doesn’t get you pregnant,” Rowan said as he finally turned around.

He saw Lyria in the chair, head tipped back as tears ran down her cheeks. “It was another fight, over something stupid I can’t remember now, and I told Sam and we went out and we got drunk. We’d been texting for a while, we had become friends and talking almost every day. Then suddenly that line blurred and we were more than that and that night he asked me to come back to his place, you’d headed out of town so I said yes. We had sex back at his place, and it was the worst mistake of my life.”

Rowan remembered that, he had the same blip in his memory over what exactly the fight was over, but he remembered leaving town overnight for work. He had tried to call Lyria so many times but eventually giving her the space he interpreted her silence to be asking for. And the truth of it was worse than he could have ever imagined.

“He loves you,” Rowan said, even though they broke his own heart.

“Yes.” Lyria’s reply came out with a sob.

“And do you love him?” At this point Rowan felt as though he was digging his own grave, each question and answer taking him deeper.

Another sob tore from Lyria and Rowan’s heart betrayed him, forgetting about his own pain and anger. All he wanted to do was hold his wife, kiss her and dry her tears, tell her none of it mattered. But still, he held back. He wanted to hear the answer first.

“No,” Lyria said but it lacked conviction. “I don’t know. But I know that I love you more.”

“That’s no consolation prize there, Ria,” Rowan said bitterly.

Lyria didn’t say anything, she just continued to cry and now was rubbing her stomach. Rowan had done that countless times, he had felt that baby move, talked to them, assured them that no matter what as their father he would always be there. But now…

That final question loomed in front of him, ready to drag him over the precipice of no return. Despite it all, Rowan couldn’t explain how the smile appeared on his face as he readied to say the words that could potentially haunt him for the rest of his life. He wouldn’t ask directly, he couldn't. Instead he’d delay the swing of the axe.

“Do you know?” He was a coward for delaying. “Do you know who the father is?”

Lyria nodded tears cascading over her cheeks, he watched them fall one after the other as she nodded, and he could tell her lies had reached their end. Hoping, more than believing that she was resolute in giving him an answer.

Rowan’s voice was so hollow he barely recognised it in his own ears as he said, “Tell me.”

~~~~~

There was a sturdy knock at the door and Aelin pushed Fleetfoot off her lap as she went to answer it. The food had arrived much quicker than she thought, she was always far too impatient to watch the actual delivery process on her phone. She tended to just get angry at the route her driver made or yelled when the wait time would randomly fluctuate. So instead she would place her order and just wait for the text. Aelin smiled at the prospect at take-out arriving, though on her way she realised that she hadn’t actually received the text indicating it was in fact here. Shrugging to herself as she swung the door open, assuming that the delivery guy had just forgotten. However, that smile fell when she saw who stood in her doorway.

It was Rowan.

~~~~~

Yeah, I'm definitely the worst. This one seems short but I promise the next one will make up for it. 

Tags: @fucking-winchester-trash​ // @literary-licorice​ // @galyxsy // @tangledraysofsunshine​ // @highqueenofelfhame​ // @3am-reading​ // @soup-that-is-too-hawt​ // @aelinfire-bringer​ // @nalgenewhore​ // @highladyofthesith // @http-itsrebecca​ // @sleep-and-books​ // @alifletcher2012​ // @westofmoon​ // @sleeping-and-books​ // @ttakeitbacknoww​ // @armixers-unite // @mariamuses​ // @chocolate-eating-bitch-queen​ // @velarian-trash​ // @queenofxhearts​ // @heroesofterrasen​ // @highladyofstoriesandmusic​ // @empire-of-wildfire​ // @camerooonchiu​ // @crackedship​ // @lowhangingtreebranches​ // @over300books​ // @yourwhisperingshadows​ // @thesirenwashere​ // @tswaney17​ // @impossiblescissorspeachpaper​ // @cat5313​ // @judelovescardan​ // @flowerspringsea​ // @chaoticskyy​ // @the-regal-warrior​ // @fanfictrash3000​ // @blueeyes425​ // @starseternalnighttriumphant​ // @bamchickawowow​ // @thehuntressofmoon // @giorgia-the-trashpanda​ // @flora-and-fae​ // @thereaderandfangirl​ // @illyrian-bookworm​ // @chemicha​ // @meltalgel-ig​ // @gay-book-nerd // @that-odd-puzzle-piece​ // @i-love-all-books // @in-love-with-caramel-macchiato​ // @girl-who-reads-the-books​ // @hizqueen4life​ // @the-third-me​ // @queen-of-glass​ // @bestmelle​ // @cursebreaker29​ // @b00kworm​ // @superspiritfestival​ // @aesthetics-11​ // @maastrash​ // @mynewdreamwasyou​ // @the-last-apprentice​ // @charincharge​ // @firestarsandseneschals​ // @scarznstars​ // @absolute-dissapointment // @thesurielships​ // @df3ndyr​ // @trinitybailey2003 // @hellasblessed​ // @booknerdproblems​ // @rowaelin-cressworth​ // @sevenfreckles-for-sevenloves // @rolltide7​ // @scandinavianromantic​ // @tillyrubes10​ // @starwarsslytherin​ // @minaidss // @paytin77​ // @jesstargaryenqueen​ // @anntheintrovert​ // @starbornvalkyrie​ // @loudphantomdragon​ // @woollycat22​ // @claralady​ // @perseusannabeth​ // @fangirlprincess09​ // @maddymelv // @sierrareads​ // @more-espresso-less-depresso-xx // @jlinez​ // @lysandra-ghost-leopard​ // @rowaelinismyotp​ // @pullnpeeltwizzlers​ // @anne-reads​ // @jadeaffliction​ // @gracie-rosee​ // @elriel4life​ // @miserablesmusings​ // @tothestarswholistentodreamers // @littleboxofthunder​ // @empress-ofbloodshed​ // @booksbqueen​ // @rowanwhitethornisbae​ // @aelin-queen-of-terrasen​ // @alyx801​ // @amandaswallowtail​ // @louiseleblancdiggory​ // @abookishfreak​ // @danibutterr​ // @thegreyj​ // @thenerdandfandoms​ // @castielspelvis​ // @swankii-art-teacher​ // @grandma-noob-lord​ // @vanzetanze​ // @lizzyfirebringer // // @endlessdaydream​ // @magnifique1807​ // @sis-it-dont-add-up​ // @thenerdfandoms​ // @post-it-notes33​ // @ae-lingalathynius​ // @whythefuckdoiexist​ // @highlady-brittney​ // @story-scribbler​ //

[writing-in-april]

MGG Characters Masterlist

This is my Masterlist for characters that Matthew Gray Gubler portrays. They are sorted by fluff, angst and smut and from first posted to last. Requests are open for this actor. Upcoming fics are on my main Masterlist. ♥️=Author’s Favorite⚠️=Major trigger warning Main Masterlist

Spencer Reid x Reader

SERIES (2+ chapters):

Chronological series:

The Five Stages of Grief : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer going through the stages of grief after the death of the Reader. (ANGST) ♥️⚠️ —completed—

- Dr. Jekyll or Mr. Hyde: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader meets a mysterious man at the library during book club. ♥️ -in progress- -prompt/request—fic swap— (18+)

Unlinked series:

Spencer Reid & Letters: Group of fics exploring how Spencer and different types of Readers correspond through letters and their relationships.(Fluff- may contain angst & smut in the future) -in progress-

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Ghost Story : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer tells Reader a ghost story before the power goes out.—request—

- Curl Recovery : Post Prison Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Curly Hair Reader: Spencer’s hair took a beating in prison along with the rest of his being. Reader helps Spencer gain a little back of what he lost. ♥️-Hurt/Comfort-

- 9 o’clock : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Barista Reader: Reader is an owner of a coffee shop and learns the identity of her late night regular as well as the reason why he likes so much sugar in his coffee.

- Dahlias :Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer over analyzing what type of flowers to get for Reader for their first date ♥️-fic swap-

- Happy Coincidences : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: You keep running into Spencer before work will you ever get his number? -request-

- The Best Time To Wear a Striped Sweater: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Where does Spencer’s striped sweater go after the first episode?—1000 follower celebration—

- My Knight in Shiny Armor: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader is a fantasy novelist and writes Spencer into their story. ♥️ —fic swap—

- The Melody Lives On: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Seeing Spencer after so long apart makes past feelings come to the surface again.

- Cinematic Coincidences: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer can’t bring himself to go on another date that’s been set up for him- so he stands his date up. Spence seemingly can’t catch a break and runs into the date he stood up. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Origins: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Reader is from a specific geographical location): Reader feels homesick after a particularly gruesome case. Spencer can’t buy a plane ticket, but he can try to help recreate part of home with them. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Question and Answer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Garcia gets Reader to answer some questions about their feelings for Spencer. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Shining Bright Above You: Spencer Reid x Male Reader: Spencer finally gets to go out with his boyfriend after getting out of prison and gets to see the light despite the overwhelming darkness. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

- Unwinding in the Vines: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader can’t get enough of cuddling Spencer. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Manicured: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer finally lets Reader paint his nails. -30 fics in 30 days-

Blurbs/Ficlets:

- Lactose Intolerant: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader : Spencer loves dairy despite his allergy, it comes back to bite him and reader takes care of him. ♥️

- Spooked: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader really wishes Spencer hadn’t picked a haunted house as a team bonding exercise.

- Four More Months & No More Months Spencer Reid x Pregnant Female Reader: Spencer talking to their baby while Reader pretends to sleep.-1000 follower celebration-1250 follower celebration-request-

Angst:

Oneshots:

- Jinxed : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader : Reader is deeply affected by a case and is comforted by Spencer, at the end of the case Reader gets injured. (ENDS HAPPY)

- Too little Too Late : Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer isn’t sure what he’s fighting for anymore and feels abandoned by Y/N and his team. Set post Revelations. Major Trigger Warnings ⚠️ (SAD ENDING)

- A Greek Tragedy: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader (Masc. coded) :Spencer and Reader’s lives now resemble a Greek tragedy after Spencer returns from his kidnapping. ♥️⚠️(Hurt Comfort) (Light at the first of a tunnel sad ending)-prompt/request-

- Off the Table: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Based off the Ariana Grande song off the table. Reader wants to ask Spencer- I’d love off the table? ♥️⚠️ —1000 follower celebration— —request-

- Converging Parallels: Spencer Reid x Female Single Mom Reader: Spencer goes to a support group Penelope suggested after the death of Maeve. He quickly connects with a single mom who’s experiences have been similar to Spencer’s. -30 fics in 30 days-

- Tiny Vessels: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer is done lying to himself about his true feelings for reader, but isn’t done lying to them. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

Smutty (not full on smut, smut is further down):

Oneshots:

- Yeah: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: When Reader’s favorite song comes on while they’re out at a bar with the team, Reader can’t resist wanting to dance with Spencer even if it outs their secret relationship. -request-

- Training Wheels: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Years ago Spencer taught Reader to drive despite the fact that he hates driving. When they become good at driving enough to learn how to ride a motorcycle they get Spencer to come along for a ride.

Smut:

Oneshots:

Sub!Spencer Reid x Reader:

x Gender Neutral Reader:

- Georgia Peach: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: Spencer sees reader eating a peach and goes a little crazy. ♥️ -request-

- Helping hands: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader: After a bad case Spencer needs help shaving after getting injured, he gets help from the least likely person to help in his life. ♥️ (Enemies to lovers) -prompt/request-

- Slapped: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral Reader x Elle Greenaway: impromptu little fic that @sparklinspence and I ended up writing quickly in the reblogs about Spencer getting his cock slapped while away on a case. ♥️

x Female Reader:

- Surprise Pretty Boy  :Sub!Spencer : Spencer Reid x Female Reader : Reader hasn’t had any sex in what feels like forever, so she seduces Spencer. When they get to Reader’s apartment she has a surprise waiting for him.

- Solaris: Sub!Spencer : Spencer Reid x Female Reader : Spencer and Reader finally get a vacation, so they go and see a Russian film called Solaris. Reader coxes Spencer into getting freaky in the theatre.

- Painted Nails: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer’s dom paints his nails for date night and she goes crazy at the sight of them.—-request—-

- Plot twist: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader buys a new pair of heels but they aren’t for her. ♥️ —750 follower celebration—

- Keep Reading: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader brings a surprise for Spencer at their picnic date. -♥️—750 follower celebration— —prompt/request-

- Braided Brat: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer lets Reader braid his hair, he can’t help but tease her. —750 follower celebration—

- Pleasent Surprise: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader asks Spencer if she can try to be more dominant in the bedroom. —750 follower celebration—

- Guest Lecturer: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: gets Spencer riled up during class while he’s guest lecturing. ♥️—750 follower celebration—

-Taking care: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer needs Reader to help him relax after some people were unkind to him —750 follower celebration—-request-

- Good in Red: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer really likes the color of your lipstick. ♥️ —1000 follower celebration—

- Green with Envy: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer gets mad over something reader can’t control and a fight ensues- plus heavy makeup sex after the fight.

- Soured Nostalgia: Sub!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: When Reader moves their stuff in to Spencer’s apartment they find photos that he kept over the years. One photo of the past springs up memories of Spencer’s precious relationship with Elle. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

-Erotica Explained: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer finds Reader’s erotica writing. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

Dom!Spencer Reid x Reader:

- Star Trek vs. Star Wars: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader Smut: Spencer and reader get into a heated argument over which is better Star Trek or Star Wars, Reader in turn breaks some of Spencer’s rules. —fic swap—

- The Case of the Missing Coffee: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader Smut: Spencer gets on Reader’s nerves just a little too much one day.—fic swap—

-Occupied: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer and Reader get caught in a bar bathroom by one of their coworkers after Reader couldn’t keep their hands to themselves. -500 follower celebration- -prompt/request-

- Birthday Spankings: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: A normally shy reader decides to tease Spencer on his birthday thinking she could get away with it —request—

- Poker Face: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader thought she could get away with speaking her desires out loud as long as they were in a different language. Turns out, someone could understand her. ♥️

- April Fools: Dom!Spencer (not as harsh as others): Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer needs to one up Reader just as he’s about to loose a prank war. —30 fics in 30 days-

- Dressed in Crimson: Dom!Spencer: Spencer Reid x Female Reader:(Royalty AU)Spencer is a stable boy with a passion for learning and Reader is the princess of the palace that he serves in. They’ve been in a secret relationship, the two grow restless about not being able to be out in the open. ♥️ -30 fics in 30 days-

Non specific dom Spencer Reid x Reader:

- Russian Roulette: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Unsub Reader: Reader and Spencer formed a relationship during an investigation, turns out she was the unsub they were looking for. Spencer finds the Readers hiding place cornering her, but he can’t let her go yet. Major Trigger Warnings ♥️⚠️ (SAD ENDING)

- Mismatched: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader is Spencer’s roommate and they have been pining after each other for a while. One morning they finally get to act on their feelings.

- The Big Bluff: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Spencer goes up against a professional poker player. ♥️-500 follower celebration-

- Any Iteration: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: Reader is nervous that this new iteration of her won’t be something Spencer will like. ♥️

Blurbs:

- A Snowy Morning After: Part One, Part Two: Non specific dom: Spencer Reid x Female Reader: After being snowed in after a one night stand, Spencer wants to go for a round two. -1000 follower celebration—30 fics in 30 days-

Chip Taylor x Reader (MGG character from 68 kill)

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Chipped: Chip Taylor x Gender Neutral Reader: Chip Taylor watching Beauty and the beast for the first time with Reader. -500 follower celebration- -prompt/request-

Angst:

Smut:

Oneshots:

Sub!Chip Taylor x Reader:

- Party Play: Sub!Chip: Chip Taylor x Female Reader: After Reader gets Chip to voice one of his deepest desires Reader takes him to a play party Reader’s friend hosts. ♥️-30 fics in 30 days-

Raymond Wadsworth x Reader (MGG character from Suburban Gothic)

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Unsolved: Raymond Wadsworth x Gender Neutral Reader: Raymond runs into the buzzfeed unsolved duo investigating the same place he is, plus their cute camera operator. -500 follower celebration- -prompt/request-

Smut:

Oneshots:

Sub!Raymond Wadsworth:

- Spooks: Sub!Raymond: Raymond Wadsworth x Female Reader: Raymond starts sticking his nose where it doesn’t belong at the next haunting he’s investigating. ♥️ -30 fics in 30 days-

Angst:

Oneshots:

Blurbs:

- Birthday Blues: Raymond Wadsworth x Gender Neutral Reader: Raymond wants his partner to come back from the dead.

Franklin x Reader (MGG character from Beginner’s luck)

Fluff:

Oneshots:

- Bowling Ball Baby Franklin x Pregnant Female Reader: Franklin and Reader get into a fight about him not being there for Reader’s pregnancy. He has a unique way of apologizing.♥️-Hurt/Comfort-

- Gutter Balls Franklin x Male Reader: While meeting up for a friendly game of bowling with Franklin’s team some very rude people try to insert their opinion on yours and Franklin’s relationship. (Has some angst but is v happy). —request—

- Chili Cheese Fries: Franklin x Gender Neutral Reader: Franklin tries to make bowling alley food taste better during a first date. ♥️ -30 fics in 30 days-

Angst:

Smut:

Oneshots:

- The Owner’s Office: Dom!Franklin: Franklin x Female Reader: Franklin won’t stop pestering the owner of the alley about getting a discount. —1000 follower celebration— —prompt/request— ♥️

Lesley Smith-Juniment x Reader (MGG in Hot Air)

Fluff:

- Unintentionally Unrequited: Lesley Smith-Juniment x Gender Neutral Reader: Reader holds in their love for Lesley after his broken engagement. -30 fics in 30 days-

Angst:

Smut:

-Will be adding more characters in the future-

[lepusrufus]

Double edged scalpel ch.6

ch.1 ch.2 ch.3 ch.4 ch.5

Summary: It's backstory time!

Mandatory warning since this is not a usual thing on my blog so I think a separate warning would be useful, there will be talk of past abuse and alcohol abuse.

----

"Wakey wakey," came the gruff voice from just outside her bedroom door.

It was slightly muffled but more than enough to make her jolt awake, muscle memory taking over the remnants of sleep. She only had one minute to be out the door. It was more than enough though, her routine perfected over years. Get out of bed. Put socks on. Get shoes. Grab the duffel bag. She slept dressed anyways, ready to go at any time.

Or not?

Where were her clothes?

Nevermind that she had time to put something on. Just grab a shirt and pants from the dresser.

Hurried steps took her over the plush carpet. Wasn't it supposed to be a solid grey? Had her mother swapped it for one of their fancier rugs?

That didn't matter right now. Clothes. She needed clothes. When she got to her dresser she stood there, frowning at the bookshelf that now took its place. She didn't even remember acquiring the tomes in front of her, most of them old and with unfamiliar trinkets surrounding them. That's not how her bedroom was arranged. Why wasn't anything in its place? Was Alex playing a prank on her? No, he wouldn't do that.

Time was almost up and she needed some goddamn clothes and to get out and her head was starting to spin-

"Nicole?"

Her eyes snapped back to the bed she had so hastily vacated, Cassandra looking at her concerned.

From the room's entrance came another familiar voice. Bela. "I only wanted to let you know that Daniela wants to go for a hunt tomorrow." Her eyes were averted and as soon as the words left her lips, she turned and shut the door behind her, not waiting for an answer from her sister.

Confusion mixed in with dizziness, but Nicole let out a quiet oh when she fully realized where she was. Cassandra's bedroom. They came here last night and fell asleep. And she was only wearing underwear.

She went to sit on the edge of the bed, head resting in her hands to try alleviate the fog in her brain. She probably looked like hell, but that was the least of her concerns right now.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Came the uncharacteristically soft voice of Cassandra, who had moved from her spot under the blankets and was gently rubbing her back.

"Uh, nothing," Nicole replied, as if she didn't look ready to puke.

Cassandra only pursed her lips and frowned. "You looked like you simultaneously saw a ghost and were ready to fight a ghost."

She swallowed thickly and forced out a laugh. "Oh are we at "tragic backstory" relationship level now?" It was at best a pathetic attempt to change the subject and at worst annoying.

When she looked back at the brunette she was still frowning, but not in annoyance. Her golden eyes sparked with concern, scrutinizing the redhead's face and body language for any clue as to what was wrong. It sent a pang of guilt through Nicole's chest. She took a deep breath and leaned back into Cassandra's touch, trying to collect her thoughts. Where does one even begin to explain this whole mess?

"Have you ever wondered why I came here? To the village?"

"...Not really," she admitted.

Nicole took another deep breath, pulling the words from her mouth as if she were pulling out teeth with pliers.

"My dad, he…he had a bit of a weird business. We never knew the details of it, he never told any of us and we knew better than to snoop, but I do know it had something to do with drugs and was highly illegal."

Staying in one place proved itself a pesky little task, so Nicole stood up and started to collect her clothes from the floor and started dressing. Cassandra instead remained in the same spot, listening intently.

"With a job like that you make enemies by default. And that made him paranoid beyond belief. When me and Alex, my older brother, were children it wasn't that bad. Worst thing he would do was lock our bedroom doors and refuse to let us attend public school."

She narrowed her eyes at a wall, still not wanting to meet Cassandra's gaze. Now that she said it out loud, not that bad sounded pretty bad too. Whatever.

"It started going downhill when I was around…" She pursed her lips, trying to make her brain put together some semblance of a timeline. "Twelve. Yeah twelve. He came bursting into our bedrooms at 2 a.m. saying that someone with a gun had gotten into our house and wanted to kill us. We were mortified. I remember my mom holding me and Alex in the backseat crying while my dad drove us to his secluded cabin in the woods."

"And that became a habit of his. He'd have us do these drills every once in a while and then scream at us if we didn't do everything in under a minute."

"That's so fucking stupid," Cassandra spat, golden eyes gleaming with anger.

Nicole started pacing back and forth, desperate for a distraction. "Oh I know. And after a few years of this I made sure to tell him exactly how much I thought it was bullshit."

Finally coming to terms with the lack of something to do while she talked, Nicole gave up and went back to the bed. She sat down by Cassandra's side, though still avoiding her eyes.

"Do you know what getting punched in the face feels like?"

Cassandra's expression contorted into a disgusted grimace. With the hand not on Nicole's back rubbing comforting circles, she dug talons into the soft fabric of a blanket. She didn't really have an answer because frankly she didn't know. Her body reacted very differently to physical harm and the few that could hurt her wouldn't go for a stupid punch to the face. Nicole kept on talking though, not really looking for an answer.

"That shut me up for a bit. Key word a bit. When he woke me up on the night before an important test I was pissed. I just thought fuck it and went upstairs to the library. It took him around twenty minutes to find me and when he did… Well, I regretted some life choices."

"I was so done with being there in that house. Though thankfully my parents went on a business trip the next day and Alex was at a friend's for the weekend. I had the whole house to myself and decided to grab one of my mom's vintage wines and just spend the evening on the couch drinking. And that's how I became an alcoholic at the ripe old age of fifteen." She let out a humorless chuckle at the end.

That day was a blur in her mind. The only thing that she vividly remembered was Alex coming home early and finding her blackout drunk on the couch. At the end of the day though, they were both in the same boat. He just grabbed the bottle from her and started to sip away at the remaining wine. Laughing at each other's hangover the next day was the most fun they'd had in ages so it became a habit for the both of them. Every once in a while they'd go into the wine cellar, pick out a bottle and then go drink it in the attic while they pretended their problems didn't exist. It continued well into their college years. Nicole was barely able to recall doing anything during her years in med school that wasn't being drunk or studying.

She groaned, pinching the bridge of her nose. That's not where she meant to go with the story. Cassandra placing a gentle kiss on her shoulder brought her enough comfort to try and wrap it up.

"I guess in a sick ironic way my dad was right in the end though," she subconsciously shifted closer to the brunette and she wasted no time in loosely wrapping her arms around Nicole's waist.

"I was three weeks away from completing my residency when I came home from the lab, only to find my mom in a puddle of blood on the living room floor. My brother was in a similar state in his bedroom. My dad was nowhere to be found but I didn't care. It was his fault," she swallowed the lump in her throat and felt tears threatening to spill from her eyes.

"I just grabbed my documents and a duffle bag with some clothes and ran. Booked the first flight to Romania to come stay at my grandparents'. Oh except they know what my dad is all about! Told me I had an hour to get some rest and be out of their house as they didn't want any trouble with my dad's people."

"I did grab a fuck ton of my dad's cash though so at least hotels weren't an issue," her words were coming out chocked, occasionally interrupted by sniffles. She rapidly whipped a hand across her face. "Have you ever been to Braşov? Old part of the city is quite lovely."

Cassandra grimaced. She didn't want to interrupt, but seeing Nicole in such a state made something in her unbeating heart ache. She gently wiped the trail of tears from her cheeks and placed a kiss on her temple from where she was sitting half behind Nicole. Then, with the softest voice she could muster, "And how did you meet Duke?"

Nicole's eyes widened slightly, apparently having forgotten that detail.

"Oh I stumbled upon his shop one day. I thought he was selling some neat stuff and he was nice so I kept coming back. One thing led to another and when I found out about a place off the map where no one gets in or out without help I thought it would be the perfect place to hide from the people trying to put a bullet through my head." Then she winced slightly. "I was also mildly tipsy when I made that decision."

Cassandra looked a little incredulous. "And he just brought you here?"

"I paid him."

Cassandra's expression turned to what could only be described as disappointed but not surprised. Then her attention went back on the redhead, glossy eyes fixated on the floor. To say she sucked at comforting others was an understatement. Daniela was far more well versed in the art of making others not feel miserable but she was nothing if not stubborn enough to try.

"Listen," she shifted to sit in front of her, hand placed gently on a wet cheek. "If anyone ever dares come near you with the intention of harming you, I'll make them regret every life choice that led them there. You're safe here." She may not be great with her words, but if Cassandra excelled in anything, it was keeping her loved ones safe. Loved one huh.

Nicole leaned into her touch, finally meeting Cassandra's eyes. There was a gentle kind of determination in her golden gaze, accompanied by a fiery rage that, for once in her life, brought comfort as opposed to terror. It came with the knowledge that it wasn't directed at her but at whoever may want to harm her.

She didn't doubt her words. Instead she shifted closer, face nuzzled in the crook of Cassandra's neck and, barely above a whisper, said: "Thank you."

[gottawriteanegoortwo]

Darkstache Week: Day Six - Trick or Treat

Other Days: One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven Ao3 Link

With one day to go until the party, it might be a good time to stop and think about why Dark has a soft spot for Hallowe’en despite having no genuine experience with it.

A warning for mentions of overbearing parents.

Word count: 1,803

-

One day until the party.

The large, old-fashioned manor was beautiful in the autumn evening. The warm glow from the lights dotting the driveway gave the building a haunting, eerie presence, like there was more to see than what was in front of you. There were no outdoor decorations, but it didn’t stop three children from speeding up the steps to knock on the grand front door.

“Good evening, welcome to -”

“Excuse me, Arthur?” The butler was cut off by the smallest child in the group. They were dressed like a scarecrow, complete with an old sack with cut-out eyeholes covering their head.

“Yes? How might I help you?"

“Could you… Close the door? I want Damien to answer it.” Arthur squinted at the odd request. Three children stood before him: one dressed in white, one dressed in black, and the little scarecrow. He couldn’t gauge their ages with masks on, but they could only be around eight years old. If they tried to do anything to harm the master’s son, he would be able to intercept. That was enough to have him nod his head and shut the door.

The butler returned to the drawing room. Damien sat at the table, surrounded by books. The child had just turned eight, yet he was in the middle completing a series of fairly complicated history questions as assigned by his tutor. He looked exhausted, as he wasn’t allowed to take a break until he finished all his work. Arthur had thought it unfair to force the boy to work this hard and for this long, but he was in no position to question his master.

"Who was that?” Damien wearily lifted his head from the biography chapter he was trying to decipher.

“I have no idea, sire. It might have been those teenagers again. Terribly disruptive when I’m waiting for my wife to arrive.” He returned to his original task of tidying the books with the work that Damien had already completed throughout the day. Books covering geography, literature, music theory, French vocabulary, mathematics and grammar - along with their respective notebooks - were all sorted into one large bundle. Arthur barely had a moment to hoist the pile into his arms before there was another loud knock on the door.

“I’m terribly sorry to interrupt your studying, but could you get that?”

“What if it’s those teenagers again?”

“Being victim to a door prank is less embarrassing than leaving someone out in the cold.”

“Oh, you’re right! Mrs O’Hare doesn’t deserve that after her busy day!” Damien slid off the wooden chair that was too large for him and hurried to the foyer. It took two hands to pull the heavy door open, but he managed. He would be ready for the correct visitor, or to see no one at all.

-

“Trick or treat!” sang the three costumed children standing on the porch. Damien took a nervous step back, glancing to the side as he debated calling Arthur. He didn’t know what to do. This had never happened before.

“I-I… We don’t have anything. Hallowe’en isn’t celebrated here.” His parents insisted it was a frivolous waste of time and a disgrace for those who took part. For this household, it was a regular night. The parents were in the middle of an important dinner with a client, Damien had been studying, and Celine had been sent to her room to read. 

The three children swapped looks.

“No treats?” asked the tallest child. They were dressed in all black with a matching full-face mask. Little white paint marks were dotted all over, as though they were the night sky.

“No, no, that won’t do at all,” mused the child slightly shorter than the first. In contrast, their outfit was white as snow, complete with a mask that mimicked the face of the crescent moon. It looked like it had been made specially by a professional.

“I suppose that means you will have to fall victim to a TRICK!” The smallest child pounced. Damien let out a frightened cry and tried to scramble backward, but it was useless. The other children had taken advantage of the surprise to grab him and pull him outside.

“Please, no. I don’t - I don’t want to get tricked. If anything happens, I’ll be in so much trouble -” Damien tried everything he could think of to stop this. He couldn’t wriggle out of the tight grips. His mind was playing all the worst-case scenarios of what would happen to him, and what his parents would do when they found out. The will to fight quickly slipped away, instead replaced by timid trembling.

The child of the night sky let go of Damien’s left arm so they could punch the moon in the shoulder. “I TOLD you he’d get scared!”

“Ow! Why am I being punched? It wasn’t MY idea to begin with!”

“You took her side! Of course it’s your fault!” For good measure, they also punched the little scarecrow on the top of the head. “And you should know better! Say sorry!” In retaliation, the scarecrow pinched the night sky, who yelped.

“Fine, sheesh! I didn’t think you’d be such a wet blanket about this. It was only a bit of fun.” The scarecrow, who had yet to let go of Damien, hugged him. “I’m sorry for scaring you, Damie."

“C-Celine?” Damien’s form tensed in panic. “B-but how are you - do Mother and Father know you left? O-oh no, we can’t have you caught. I-I don’t want you- you to-”

“It’s alright, master Damien. They don’t know.” Arthur, who had been watching the scuffle, stepped into the open space in front of the door. The four children peered up at him. "If you four don’t shout too much, you can stay here. I'll let you know if you need to move. And please don’t barricade my wife from getting in again."

"Thank you Arthur, you're the best." Celine whispered. In return, the butler placed a doorstop to ensure the children weren’t locked out.

"I thought I was in so much trouble. I didn't want to be pranked." Damien moved past the group to slump on the second-last step. The other three sat around him. William wrapped an arm around him in comfort. "But now that I know it was you three… it was pretty funny, wasn't it? You got me good."

"I knew you were the jumpiest out of all of us. I didn't think it would be that easy!" Mark snickered as he popped a piece of candy into his mouth.

"Once I was sent to my room, I climbed out the window and met the boys so we could go trick-or-treating.” Celine decided to share her sneaky adventure with her unlucky brother. “I knew they wouldn’t bother checking on me once the door was shut. I wanted to take you, and I’m sorry I couldn’t get you away from all your school work despite me trying all day.” She paused to sigh. “So that’s why this is the last stop of our route. I wanted you to do something tonight that wasn’t work. It’s not fair.”

“You don’t need to say sorry. Mother and Father want me to do the best I can in school, and -”

“Damien. It’s after eight o’clock at night. We go to bed at nine. You’ve been working since morning.” The other boys swapped a grimace. It was a familiar story in the lives of the twins. Celine lifted her bag and put it in between her feet. It was opened and rummaged through, until a smaller bag was claimed. “Here. We all put some of our own treats in there. I made sure it was stuff that would last too, so we can find somewhere to hide it in your room." Damien hesitated, but he snatched the bag and held it close to him.

"Thank you… All of you. This was really nice of you. But it's not fair that I get the reward when you all-” Damien was cut off by William hugging him.

“We wanted you to be there. I know you would have loved it. When we’re all older and don’t need grown-ups telling us what to do, I’m going to make sure you have the best Hallowe’en ever-”

--

Dark blinked as awareness returned to him. His mind had wandered while giving the living room a thorough dusting. He wasn’t even sure where that memory came from - he certainly didn’t recall talking about it when he was human, nor did the topic of trick or treating come up in conversation - but it made him smile. Somehow, despite it all, Wilford was keeping his promise.

The front door opened and shut, and Dark called out a greeting to his boyfriend. Instead of answering, the door was opened and shut again.

“Hm. Must have forgotten something in the car.” The odd action was swiftly dismissed as Dark returned a framed photo to its rightful place. A loud, booming laugh made Dark jump and drop the dust cloth.

“Will?!” He hurried toward the front door, yanking it open as he threw caution to the wind.

“Trick or treat!” Wilford stood at the door with a mischievous grin poking out under his moustache. “Cool, huh? I hadta get th’ spookiest soundin’ doorbell.”

“A-a doorbell? Is that what that noise was?” Dark looked behind him when Wilford pointed. Sure enough, there was a small black speaker on the table beside a vase of flowers.

“Yeah. It’s a button attached ta th’ Bluetooth speaker. Yan said she wants ta take that teenage Jim trick or treatin’ tomorrow.” 

“New Jim isn’t her newest ‘senpai’, is he?”

“Nah. I think she’s excited ta have a friend her own age helpin’ out in th’ studio. An’ that’ll do her th’ world of good. I’m sure a few of ‘em will wanna join in as well.” Wilford rambled on excitedly, but Dark’s gaze drifted. He had memories bubbling up that he had spent a long time locking away, and it was making him more sentimental to the current moment.

“Will? Why don’t you step inside? Make sure the volume isn’t too loud.” The pair swapped places as the reporter hurried in. Dark quietly reached out and closed the door. He felt like a fool, but he shook the thought away as he rang the doorbell. An exclamation of “Fuck! That’s loud!” could be heard from inside before the front door swung open.

“Okay, how did that not burst -”

“Trick or treat?” It came out more nervous than intended. However, it was a success, judging by how Wilford’s face lit up. Dark had a split second to brace himself before being yanked into a tight hug. Dark’s laugh was muffled as he returned it. 

This certainly would be the best Hallowe’en ever.

[embrassemoi]

Surrounded by the Moon and Stars ✷ 19

Pairings: Sirius B, Remus L, [F]Reader    Content: Language, possible errors, 

【 Masterlist: Previous Chapter | Next Chapter 】

Chapter 19: Mrs. Lupin

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

The rest of Valentine’s Day was spent with Y/N compiling a list in her head:

1. Avoid drinking anything the Marauders — actually, avoiding drinking anything around James to dodge their concoction of face and body-altering potions. When students at lunch and dinner drank from the pumpkin juice supply, more than several people who were already in relationships morphed into those they weren’t dating. Let’s just say that this prank wasn’t as uplifting and fun as the Marauders originally had in mind. Even the Bloody Baron told Peeves to spare them.

2. Make sure Lily didn’t drink anything around the Marauders — or anything around Marlene and Mary (who caught word from Peter of her supposed feelings). They were dying to know who caught her attention and bets were being placed.

3. James just wouldn’t shut the fuck up about Emmeline. She could even hear his voice: Whiskers! Did you see how pretty she looks? Woah, I can’t believe she agreed to be my girlfriend? I’m so lucky! She’s beautiful! Ugh — did you see her smile? Emmeline this, Emmeline that — it was even worse than his obsession with Quidditch. But, it was too endearing in a sickening, annoyingly charming way and she was happy that he seemed happy, so Y/N kept her lips sealed.

Remus suggested drowning him in the bottles of love potions littering the castle but Y/N thought differently. James already acted like what a love potion was rumoured to be like; he’d become unstoppable if he even caught a whiff.

4. Shockingly by the end of the day, Y/N’s bag was stuffed with cards and gifts — all filled with confessions. She rarely socialized with anyone but the girls and Marauders, so it came as a surprise.

5. And now found herself stuck in a very uncomfortable situation.

Relaxing in the lounge area by the library, James and Mary were casting spells, Lily and Y/N chatted while Remus aided Marlene, going over course material, however, her face scrunched up as she flicked through his notes.

“What does this mean,” Marlene asked after desperately trying to decipher his writing. She slid it over to him, pointing to a highlighted section. But before Remus could translate, Y/N peeked over.

“Um — Owl to Opera Glasses. This spell emits fleeting wispy white vapour from wand — point at owl — no sound will be produced.”

She sat back in her seat, snapping off a piece of chocolate before handing the rest over to Remus beside her. Everyone looked shocked.

“Erm — what?”

Mary sputtered, “How did you read that? It’s fucking scribble!”

“He’s got doctor writing.”

They waited for her to elaborate.

“My mom’s —” “MUM!” “— writing is horrid. I swear all doctor’s have awful handwriting. I spent so much time reading her medical jornals, scans, charts — to keep me busy. So comparing Remus’ writing to hers, it’s legible.”

None of them seemed to understand besides Lily and Mary. Y/N just dismissed the matter entirely, sliding back the parchment to Marlene as they went back to their quiet conversations.

“So,” Remus leant in, his head craned down to talk to her. “Doctor handwriting — I should flaunt that?”

She chuckled, “Might make you sound smarter, but you don’t need that.”

“You flatter me too much.”

“Humble, aren’t you?”

“I have to bully myself daily. Can’t let it get to my head, not like egomania over there.”

Ah yes, the thrilling saga of bullying James Potter.

But before she could add on, a shadow caught Remus’s eye before he nudged her. His head tilted over to the direction of a wall, littered with portraits and awards with Quidditch trophies. “Looks like you’ve got an admirer.”

A blond boy, young — was staring at her, blushing madly as his chest puffed out, determination trickled through every step as he neared.

Remus’ smile became impossibly large, dripping in amusement before snapping, gaining the table’s attention.

“Hi,” there was a nervous waver in his voice, but confidence in his stance. He was pale, amplifying the scarlet blush on his cheeks.

Damn, she knew what was about to happen and so did shit-eating grin Lupin.

“Hello… What’s your name.” Right, that was a good place to start. Her eyes wandered to his tie: a Ravenclaw.

“Gilderoy Lockhart,” he announced, going up to flick a strand of hair from his face, flashing her a pearly white smile. “I’m in first year.” In his small hands, he outstretched his arms holding a box of chocolates — identical to the one Remus received a few days ago along with a meticulously crafted letter.

“You’reveryprettysowillyoubemyValentine?”

James, Mary and Marlene let out an involuntary snort which had all of them leaning into one another to support themselves from toppling over. Lily had to cast Silencio over them. They turned their heads away from Gilderoy before barking out silent merriment. Remus was the complete opposite, thankfully, as he remained poised, face void but his lips quivered upwards.

“Um… right... well,” she stalled. Maybe she should get up, take the boy elsewhere to softly let him down. “Thank you, I appreciate it a lot. But er… I can’t accept your feelings. Thank you for telling me, though. I appreciate it.”

“What?! Why!” He demanded. His face turned a deeper shade of pink, now causing a scene.

She made eye contact with Lily, however, James’ hand hammered down on the table, startling them all. His two hands formed pointed tips, mimicking two people kissing as he repeated the motion, pointing to her and Remus. Mary took the opportunity to grab Lily’s wrist, flicking a reversal charm on all of them.

“She’s dating Lupin!” She shouted which caught the attention of a few onlookers. James tossed his head back, knuckles in his mouth and Lily’s brow rose high in a startled grimace.

“For a month now!” Marlene continued, her hand slapping down on her thigh.

Y/N was going to murder them.

She went to open her mouth to say — well, okay, she didn’t know what to say but Remus budded in, lifting his arm, wrapping it around her shoulder and pulled her in awkwardly. She instantly got the hint, bringing a hand and patted his chest stiffly while the group tried not to bellow. Even Lily’s facade was beginning to break, her hand shooting up to cover a growing smile.

There was never a boring day at Hogwarts.

But she was taking too long to answer. This would've been quick, easy, had not everyone else been around and especially if they hadn’t lied about her dating.

“I’m sorry but yes, we’ve been together for a little while now, haven’t we, darling?” said Remus, saving her from the hesitation. Y/N nodded, at least she didn’t need to give a reason now.

Remus’ lying was exceptional. There wasn’t even a flicker in his expressions aside from the involuntary dark blush that ran down his cheeks to his neck. Y/N couldn’t blame him, her face felt like it was on fire.

Gilderoy tried to play it off coolly but his shoulders slumped, looking absolutely dispirited. He meekly nodded, placing the box and letter on the table and sped off.

“Cougar L/N!” Marlene roared once he was out of earshot.

“You lot are ruthless!” She barked at them.

“I did nothing!”

“Lied to a poor boy!” Lily lectured sharply.

“And she went along with it!” “Because you —”

While everyone was now bickering or on the verge of tears, Remus peeled himself off of her and Y/N patted him once more.

“You’re welcome.”

She looked up at him, “Darling? Really?”

His eyes rolled, “Did you want me to call you a troll?”

“Got me there, thank you.”

His face softened at this, shoving her in a teasing way before seizing the small box of chocolates, cracking it open and handed her a piece.

“What?” he smirked, moving to open a book, flipping to his worn-out bookmark. He side-eyed her uncomfortable expression as she looked at the box. He recited her words, “Expensive chocolate is still expensive chocolate.”

“You’re a dick.”

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

February 17th, 1976

Y/N quickly learned that it was a mistake using the excuse that she and Lupin were dating because now the entire school believed it.

It spread like wildfire. Girls rejected by Remus shot her a hardened gaze, eyes scorned through her robes while other’s who confessed to Y/N avoided her completely. They would all gossip the moment they passed the hallways and she could feel their gaze.

“Lupin beat me to it!”

“— how long have they’ve been —”

“I’ve fancied him for two years! Two years and she suddenly just swoops in?!”

“Honestly, I thought she was with Potter.”

“She’s hot.” “He's fit!”

“— jealous of her —”

“Crikey — don’t they have anything else to talk about?” Remus said, turning away from the hall.

Remus disappeared for the past couple of days, only now hearing the commotion for the first time. He looked fairly pale, eyes red and tired — but not unusual. Y/N shrugged off the rumours and speculations before entering the hall, shouting to him to wait.

Many students stopped their gossiping for a moment to watch her pass before resuming. She marched up to her customary seat, her friends whistling at her.

“Where’s Remus L/N?”

“Mrs. Lupin!”

“Fuck off.”

She shoved snacks into her bag, hoarding enough food for the both of them and managed to grab a giant mug filled with coffee, making her way out of the hall with a few people loitering after her. James forcibly brought Sirius to his feet, Peter leaped over and Lily sprang up from Marlene, cutting her off while looping her arm with Y/N’s.

Mary elected to stay back, engrossed in a chat with Dorcas and Alice before quickly roping Marlene in. Nevertheless, she shouted once she saw the coffee mug, “That’s for Lupin, isn’t it?!”

“Don’t start… it’s just coffee.”

“Black coffee my arse!”

James ran up to her, tugging on her robes lightly, “Does this mean I should swap my Galleons to Lupin?”

Y/N shrugged him off, stomping over to Remus waiting by the door. She handed him the mug, glancing back in hopes of Celeste: no letter from her mother, again. She sighed before hauling the rest of the group to Kettleburn's classroom. This time, empty but always open for students to come and go. Even a sign was plastered on the entrance: Hold a Niffler if feeling down! (BEWARE of theft).

“Sneaking off like this is going to fuel more rumours,” said Lily, settling her things down on the desks beside her.

“Sorry Whiskers — Moony!”

Remus cracked his fingers, a long breathy sigh trickled from him slowly. “We should mitch lessons today — let it cool down for a bit.”

“Mitch?”

“Skip classes —”

“Moony is possibly the worst prefect in Hogwarts History — he deserves a gold star for it,” chuckled Peter.

Sirius grinned and the two made brief eye contact but neither looked away until James’ voice rang out again. It made Y/N's skin go warm.

“Mate’s going for a record.”

Sirius went to scratch the back of his neck, his head turning down to fiddle with his rings out of habit. “Maybe they’ll put him in the next printed copies of

Hogwarts: A History.” 

Remus rolled his eyes, fixing his posture to sit straighter. “Ungrateful gits. All I hear are three wannabe detention attendees. You ought to be thanking me. With what you pull, I could easily give you two years worth of ‘em.”

A collective sigh went around from the boys who seemed to bow their heads in mutual respect. They grouped and drawled, “Thank you, Moonyyy!”

Lily turned to her, “I’m sorry, but you’re not skipping.”

Her voice automatically switched at the mention of class; it went strict and firm and eerily sounded like Professor McGonagall which had Y/N double down.

Once the bell rang, Sirius quickly walked up to her, taking the place of Lily.

“Fine, we’ll keep the Puffskein in my dorm.”

She considered him for a moment. “I’ll visit daily.”

“Jolly.”

He sped up, hooking an arm around James’ shoulders as they headed to Potions. Y/N's eyes followed him, unable to look away and her heart dropped.

━━━━━━━━━༻☽༺━━━━━━━━━

“The Draught of Peace is a potion that often comes up on the Ordinary Wizarding Level. As you know from review, it calms anxiety and high levels of agitation. It’s been used to calm students who are too stressed with NEWT exams.

“And today,” Slughorn says, trying to look cheerful but failing — looking far too stiff and forced, “ We'll attempt to brew it.”

Lily sat up bolt-straight, eager to soak in new information. Instead of sitting with Lily today, she took a seat in between Remus and James, Lily with Snape.

“The instructions are up on the board, if you have any questions, ask away. Be warned though; be too heavy-handed — mix too fast and you’ll end up with a potion that would make the consumer fall into an irreversible sleep.

“You will be graded on your progress once finished.” He flicked his wand, opening all of the student’s textbooks to an ingredients page, unlocked the cupboard and turned back, “You have until the end of the class, begin my pupils!”

“Sluggys lookin’ pretty sluggishly today,” whispered Lily as they met briefly while collecting their ingredients.

Slughorn did look a little down. His face and voice were desolate, missing its happy chiper.

“Whiskers, I have everything already, don’t worry about it!” James beckoned.

The potion, in her opinion, wasn’t as hard as she predicted it to be. She was doing quite well, better than Lily and Remus which gave her a small sense of pride.

“So, Prongs, when are we going to get to meet Emmeline?”

James didn’t look up from his fiddly potion, too engaged but there was a small grin on his face. “We’re trying to take it slow —” “Pfft,” interjected Remus, “James Potter and slow — in a relationship? Doubt it. Did your Veela powers run out?”

“Hey! I like her and I don’t want her to run off or feel pressured.”

“Ah, what a gentleman, isn’t he Lupin?”

“Quite.”

James shook his head, “You shouldn’t be talking. Shouldn’t you lovebirds be on a date yoursel — Merlin! Moony don’t do that!”

Remus flicked his wand before a handful of leftover powdered moonstone fell on top of James’ head, giving him an iridescent appearance.

Y/N ignored them, stirring clockwise, then counterclockwise, simmering the heat down to the perfect level for seven minutes, then added in two drops of syrup of hellebore. A shimmery silver mist stemmed from her cauldron. A satisfied smirk settled it’s way on her face before scanning the class. Nobody else, besides Remus and Snape who’d been adding their finishing touches, was done.

Just as James was about to finish his perfectly brewed potion, a small beam was directed at his cauldron, ruining the entire potion as it sputtered multicoloured sparks. He tried to prod at the flames at the base of the cauldron, trying to cool it down but it was already too late. It soon became a thick, muddy concrete mixture.

“What the fuck? You guys saw that, right?!”

They had indeed seen a spell hit his cauldron. Their heads whipped around in search. With only ten minutes left and James’ grades about to drop, they all panicked slightly. If his marks were to drop below a certain level, James would be in jeopardy of losing his Quidditch title as captain and be forced to step down, focusing more on the OWLs.

Remus spotted them first: “It’s Snape.”

“How do you know?”

He didn’t respond, leaving them to follow his line of vision to look. Snape wore a horrible smirk, going as far as to wink at James. His perfectly brewed potion shimmered in the light before whirling around to talk to Lily.

“Fucking Snivellus,” James muttered tensley.

“Alright, in five minutes, I’ll be coming around to look at your potions! Be ready to present them.” Slughorn announced.

Remus sighed. “Prongs, just take mine — I’ll take yours. My grades are high enough but if yours drop —”

“No Moony,” he stated firmly. “I’m not going to let you go down with me.”

Distracted, Snape blushing like a fool to Lily and the boys fighting over Remus’ endeavour at being noble, Y/N swished her wand, levitating Jame’s cauldron and directed it over to Snape. She bewitched a temporary invisibility charm, switching them, before levitating Snape's back to James. Now, in front of James was a flawlessly brewed Draught of Peace.

“James, take my help —” “I said no you wanker!”

Slughorn was making rounds around the classroom, but Snape beckoned him over to his shared table with Lily, confident as he sent a nasty look to them.

“Evans, looking good! Perfectly brewed — I’ll add an extra point on your mark.” The praise did not go unnoticed as her chest puffed with pride, her head turning and locked eyes with Y/N, a large smile on her face.

Nice! Y/N mouthed, a thumb sticking upwards.

“Now lets — Severus!” exclaimed Slughorn, flashes of surprise shot through him, “What happened? This is so unlike you.”

The Slytherins in the class all looked up — scratch that — everyone in the class snapped their heads towards him; Snape had never once messed up a potion. They watched as Snape’s face fell from his smug smirk as a black stemming, multicoloured, cloud of smoke puffed in the air, making the surrounding students cough.

“Sir — I swear it was fine moments ago, I don’t know what happened! It must’ve —”

Their professor sighed, a very disappointed look crossed his face before shaking his head.

“It’s quite alright, Mr. Snape. Accidents happen. Evanesco.”

The contents, including the puff of smoke, vanished, leaving Snape to gape around. Lily touched his shoulder, rubbing her hand up and down and began murmuring into his ear.

But before Slughorn could go to another group, Y/N raised her hand, flagging him down while the rest of the class was still paying attention. “Professor! We would like for you to clear us, please!”

“Whiskers, what are you doing?”

“Trust me.”

“Look at what she did with your cauldron,” Remus mumbled, his eyes darting to her.

Complete surprise and utter awe replaced his face as Slughorn let out an excited squeal. His hands clapped together. “Everyone should take a page from Potter, L/N and Lupin. I’ve never seen such great work for this potion! Amazing you three! Ten points for Gryffindor.”

Their heads whipped towards her, Remus just smiled while James stared wide-eyed.

“You love to underestimate me.”

[wonder-womans-ex]

See It In Your Eyes

The sequel to ‘Cause Boy I was Made for You 

When Finn O'Hara was eleven years old, he got two things for Christmas: an Iron Man action figure and a telling off. There were probably other things, too, but in ten years (or eleven, or twelve, or even thirty for that matter) he wouldn't be able to remember them. 

But the action figure had been the one he'd eyed in the toy store window for the past seven months, and the telling off had been from his Aunt Isla. 

"There are two things you must never ask a lady," she had scolded. "Her age, and to see the mark on her wrist. Remember that, Finnegan." 

(For the record, he hadn't asked to see her wrist. He had asked her to pass him the stuffing, and he'd said "What's that?" when her sleeve got bunched up around her elbow.) (Not like she cared.)  

***

When Logan Tremblay was eleven years old, he nearly broke his jaw. One of the boys on his team tied his shoelaces together after practice and he fell and smashed his face on the locker room bench. 

After three and a half hours in the ER, he met his own eyes in the bathroom mirror, cheek swollen comically huge, and thought, don’t let it get to you, even though it already had. 

***

When Leo Knut was eleven years old, he got his first job. Sure, it was only a paper route, but to Leo, it was everything. Not only was he making money (real, actual money; his dad couldn’t tell him his Monopoly skills were just pure luck anymore) but he was the first in his family to learn anything interesting. One morning, halfway through his rounds, he flipped to the sports page. The words Local Team Manager Loses Job over Sexuality glared up at him. 

At lunchtime, when his parents asked about the news lately, he merely shrugged and took another bite of his taco. 

*** 

When Finn O’Hara was fifteen years old, he fell in love for the first time. Not with a person, no, but no one could deny that he was in love—by the fourth rewatch of Mamma Mia, his mother was resigned to promising him extra dessert if he would please, for the love of God, just sing anything else.

***

When Logan Tremblay was fifteen years old, he and his sister Noelle woke up at five in the morning on April Fool’s to rig their house. Noelle, admittedly, was behind most of it, but Logan came up with five spectacular (if he did say so himself) pranks: baking soda in the cereal and vinegar in the milk, which caused his father’s breakfast to fizz and explode the moment he poured it out; semi-permanent hair dye in his mother’s shampoo (her hair kept the blue tint for almost a month); all the hard-boiled eggs in the fridge swapped out for raw ones and vice versa; glue in his father’s shaving cream; and, just because he felt like it, all the toilet paper in the house hidden in the downstairs freezer. The day was a bright spot in a patch of darkness—it had been only a week before that he had found the tumblr post about anxiety symptoms and thought, maybe…

***

When Leo Knut was fifteen years old, he quit baseball—for good this time. His coach was confused as to why anyone would give up an 84 mph fastball and a glove that could catch any pop fly in favour of the ice, but Leo was sure. Hockey was his destiny. The pitcher’s mound had nothing to offer him, not anymore. 

***

When Finn O’Hara was eighteen years old, he met Logan Tremblay. His first thought—though he would not accept it until years later—was, He has very nice lips. I would like to kiss them. His second, mere moments later, was, Wait shit no fuck no dammit shit fuck.

***

When Logan Tremblay was eighteen years old, he began to wonder who his soulmate was. Maybe she would have coffee-brown eyes and a gap between her front teeth, the perfect height for him to rest his chin on top of her head. Maybe she would be taller, with wide hips and sharp elbows and long eyelashes. 

He tried to shake his fantasies of fiery red hair and gorgeous grins, because Logan was a hockey player and hockey players weren’t queer. 

*** 

Leo Knut is eighteen years old, and he is being pulled down a dimly lit hallway by Finn O’Hara. His wrist is warm beneath Finn’s grasp, his heart beating a little too fast for his liking. 

“Where are we going?” Logan asks from his place at the end of Finn’s other arm, but he gets no answer. 

Finally, they reach what Leo assumes is their destination: the…. Well, Leo isn’t sure where they are, actually. Some sort of storage room, he guesses, judging by the net in the corner. 

He still has no idea why they’re there. 

Logan is looking at Finn expectantly, a curious expression on his face. He looks like he knows what’s happening, and the thought bites at Leo’s heart. Great—he’s the only clueless one here. 

Finn takes a deep breath, and then another. “Hi,” he begins, and then stops. 

Not sure which of them he should look at, Leo focuses on a spot on the wall between Logan’s and Finn’s heads. He senses one of them watching him. He doesn’t check which it is. 

“So,” Finn tries again. “Ugh. I’m bad at this.”

“What exactly is ‘this’?” Logan’s brow, when Leo sneaks a glance at him, is furrowed, only a sliver of green eyes visible beneath his squint. 

There’s a thunk as Finn lets his head fall back against the wall. “This is me finally deciding to man up and tell you I’m in love with you.” 

Leo’s head turns to look at Logan so fast his neck hurts. He sees Logan blink once, and then twice. 

***

Finn meets Logan’s eyes. He can practically feel the electricity crackling between them. 

Because Logan knows.

He has to. 

He has to know that Finn’s heart nearly beats out of his chest every time Logan smiles. He has to know that sometimes he’ll be talking to someone, anyone—Cap, or Coach Weasley, or the press—and he’ll think about Harvard and he’ll forget how to breathe. Logan is half of Finn’s heart. 

But whether or not Logan knows it, the look on his face says he feels the same. Finn feels his lips start to curve into a smile. 

And then Leo says, “Why am I here, then?”

There are a hundred ways Finn could answer that question. One of them is ‘Why wouldn’t you be?’ and another is ‘I don’t know.’ He could be passionate. He could be tactful. He could be poetic or blunt or gentle or any of those things. 

What he goes with, in the end, is philosophical. 

“Who decides it’s wrong?” Finn says to the floor. “Any of it. The feeling. The wanting. The having, even. If it’s real, then how can it be wrong?”

He can’t see Logan’s face, nor Leo’s, but he imagines they must be confused. He goes on, not entirely sure he knows what he’s saying and not entirely sure he cares. “And maybe it’s destiny. And maybe it isn’t. Why does it matter? If it’s real and painful and there for the taking, why bother about whether it’s supposed to be?” 

Finally, he looks up. He senses that one of them is going to say something, and whichever it is, he cuts them off. 

“Maybe it’s not you. Fuck, maybe it isn’t either of you, and maybe I’m the only one who thinks it should be. But it has to mean something, doesn’t it? Because if it doesn’t… why bother at all?” 

And maybe, Finn thinks, I’m going to start crying.

***

Logan, mind still wheeling, is the only one who gets an inkling of what Leo is going to do before he does it. Finn certainly doesn’t, and he’s not quite sure Leo does either. 

He grabs Finn by the collar and pulls him up, their faces smashing together, red and gold curls tangling between their foreheads. Logan watches them slowly break apart, far enough away to lock eyes, yet still so close they’re breathing into each other’s mouths. His heart surges—with jealousy, yes, but also with something fiery and sweet. Something akin to excitement, or—dare he say—love. 

“Whoa,” he says out loud, not realizing it until Leo and Finn both glance over at him. His cheeks start to colour.

Then Leo places a hand on his shoulder and leans down to kiss him, too. This one is more gentle by far that the previous; a dance rather than a battle. It makes sense—Finn’s always been the brash one, the impulsive one, while Logan is tentative, sturdy—and it seems fitting that Leo is the one to remind them of that. 

Logan still doesn’t know what they’re doing there. 

Well, he knows what they’re doing, of course. They’re kissing. But he doesn’t know why Finn picked now to haul them halfway across Hogwarts arena and make it happen. Maybe if he really thought about it, something would come to him. 

But of course he’s not going to think about it, because Leo is still kissing him. 

When one of them finally pulls away—Logan isn’t sure who—Leo reaches one hand up and touches Logan’s lip. They stay there for a long moment, neither of them moving, before calloused fingers carefully skate across his waist. He turns towards Finn. 

They surge forward together, meeting in the middle. One of Finn’s hands fists in Logan’s hair, the other slipping under his shirt, as they kiss for the first time in nearly four years. 

He can taste salt. One of them is crying; it’s probably him.

When Logan starts to break away, desperate for air, Finn chases his mouth. Within a few seconds, though, he’s pulled back, too. It’s almost simultaneously that they remember there’s another person in the room. 

Leo’s lip is between his teeth as he worries at it. He doesn’t speak for a long moment; the silence, before it shatters, if practically tangible. “You two have history,” he says, like it’s a question he already knows the answer to. 

“We do,” Finn answers easily. There’s something fierce in his eyes. “But it’s the future that matters.”

Logan wishes Finn would stop sounding like Plato. Or Socrates. Or Aristotle. One of them, anyway. Finn is an American in his 20’s, not a 2000-something-year-old Greek. In any case, mystery is decidedly not Finn’s colour. 

Leo shakes his head. “That’s not what I meant.”

“What do you mean, then?” 

“I mean you guys are—you’re practically—” he breaks off. One of his hands moves towards Logan, only stopping when it hovers mere centimetres from his wrist. “May I?” 

“I—sure.” Logan’s heart skips a beat when their fingers brush. Leo gently turns his hand so Logan’s palm is up, and it’s not until Leo starts to push his sleeve away that Logan realizes what he’s doing. 

But by then it’s too late—those three paw prints he spends so much time agonizing over are on display, no longer private, no longer just for him. For a split second, he considers covering his wrist again and leaving. But he does no such thing. 

Because if he can’t trust Finn and Leo, he can’t trust anyone. 

Finn’s mouth opens slightly in surprise. “It’s—” he says, and there’s barely any hesitation before he’s pulled his sleeve up, too. 

It takes a moment before Finn’s soulmark registers in Logan’s mind. When he does, he starts to smile. 

They’re soulmates. 

***

Leo feels his jaw clench. He knows he should be happy for them—and he is, really. They’ll smile at each other, and they’ll kiss again, and they’ll go on with their lives as that one couple who are so in love it hurts to look at them. 

He turns away when tears start to pool in his eyes. He’ll go back to the locker room; they obviously want to be alone right now. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Just as soon as he takes his first step towards the door, Finn grabs his arm. “Wait,” he says, and Leo stops. 

“Logan and I are soulmates,” says Finn, all in one breath, “But there are three prints. Not two. And I know that it’s rare, but Re—but I’ve been told it’s possible. That it’s happened before.”

Leo thinks he knows, but he has to make sure. “Do you mean—do you think we’re—”

“I know you’re only eighteen,”  Finn continues. “And I know there’s no way of knowing for a while. But does it matter? Even… even if I’m wrong? I love you—I love both of you—soulmates or not.” 

Leo waits for one of the others to say something more. When neither does, he wonders why, and quickly comes to the conclusion that it’s because they’re waiting for him to say something. 

“Who told you?” he asks the moment it pops into his head. It’s not the best thing he could say, but it’s not the worst, either. 

“Told me what?” 

“You said someone told you it was possible to have two soulmates. Who was it?”

There’s a pause as Finn cracks one of his knuckles, deep in thought. “Loops,” he whispers, but not until Leo has decided he’s not going to say anything at all. “I was talking to Loops yesterday, and I told him I thought… anyway, he said I should tell you.”

“You told him we’re soulmates?” Logan’s eyes are wide and fearful. “He knows we’re…?”

“Not you guys, no. Well, Leo, maybe. I just said you were both on the team, that’s all.”

“But you would have had to say something about my age,” Leo concludes, the dots starting to connect in his head. “And I’m the only one who’s not nineteen yet.”

“Yeah.” 

Logan swallows, the almost comical gulp audible in the quiet room, and he crosses his arms over his chest. There’s something about the gesture, however, that tells Leo it’s an act of protection, not defiance. “He’s not going to… tell anyone, is he?”

“No. And if he doesn’t, I won’t.” 

“What?” Leo thinks he might be missing something. 

“He won’t tell anyone we’re… gay.” It’s the first time any of them have said it—that three-letter word that, in their profession, could ruin everything. “Because he has his own secrets. There’s a difference between being ashamed of something and wanting to keep it private.” 

Logan’s eyes widen slightly. “You mean… we’re not the only ones?” His voice is incredulous, choked with emotion, and Leo reaches out a hand to him. 

“I don’t think we ever were.” 

***

Finn feels as though he’s floating. No—this is better than floating. This is dreaming. At any moment, he’s going to wake up staring at the ceiling of his bedroom with Leo asleep just a wall away. A mile away. 

It’s like he’s watching, not experiencing, the way Logan’s fingers twine with Leo’s, love overflowing from the gaze they share. He’s imagining the kiss Logan leans forward to plant on his cheek. Leo’s arm wrapping itself around his shoulders is all in his head. 

But it isn’t. Without having to speak, the three of them make their way out of the storage room and back into the hall—blond and brunet hand in hand, blond holding redhead so close it seems he’ll never let go. Finn leans into the warm body to his side, and he feels Leo stagger slightly as Logan does, too. They seem as though they would be perfect on the cover of a book, or a movie poster—Three’s Company, his mind provides, and he files it away just in case he ever decides he wants to sell the rights to his life story. 

He’s a long way from that, though. After all, it’s been barely half an hour since they started to unravel this knot they’ve spent so long tangling themselves into, and right now all Finn needs to do is try his best to make sure they don’t get tied up again. 

The locker room is almost abandoned. Pascal’s packing up the last of his stuff, and he smiles when they enter. Logan, for one, stiffens slightly in fear, but it doesn’t seem like there’s any need to. Indeed, the only thing Pascal says as he does up the zipper of his bag is, “Be good to him,” and none of them knows who he’s talking to, so they all nod. 

Finn waits until they have the room to themselves to pull Logan close to him. “It’ll be okay,” he says. “I promise.”

“But if people find out—”

“Then we’ll have to deal with that—all of us will. But you don’t have to be afraid. The team’s family. And family means no one gets lost behind or forgotten.” 

Logan nods, chewing his lower lip. It’s obvious when the gravity of Finn’s words clicks in his head—the expression on his face twists into one of confusion. “Wait a second—why does that sound familiar?”

“Because it’s from Lilo and Stitch.” 

Swiveling his head towards Leo, Finn stage whispers, “Shhhhh!” This gets a smile out of Logan. 

“I knew I’d heard it before somewhere. Shame on you, Finn—plagiarizing the words of an innocent blue alien!” He stops, blinking. “There’s something I never thought I’d say.” 

Finn smiles. This is his life now. He thinks he’ll have a lot of fun getting used to it.

***

Skates swishing over the ice, Logan lets the world fall away. He stops thinking about everything—even Finn’s contagious laughter and Leo’s broad grin fade from his mind as he gets closer and closer to the goal. 

Almost there, almost there—

He shoots. The puck whizzes past Kasey’s elbow, only barely missing him. 

“Nice one, Tremblay!”

Moody is nodding in approval. Logan feels a rush of pride—it’s an easy, everyday drill, something he’s been able to do in his sleep since he was a kid, but praise is always a good thing. When he can’t have a cheering crowd, he might as well have a coach who admires his talents. 

“Merci!” he says, beaming, and then, on second thought, adds, “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t!” 

Out of the corner of his eye, he notices Finn and Leo bump shoulders. His heart swells—they love each other, and he loves that they love each other. Somehow, he finds it hard to believe it’s only been a day since the storage room and the kissing and—

“Tremblay!” Logan is shocked back out of his thoughts by Coach Weasley’s (albeit slightly amused) shout. “Stop daydreaming and take another shot!”

“Yes, Coach.” 

He’s sweating by the time he’s finally allowed to sit down again. He takes a swig of Gatorade, watching Finn try and sneak up behind him. 

“Boo!”

“Hi, Fish.”

“Dammit.” Two red eyebrows lift and fall again. “How’d you know I was here?”

“I saw you. You’re not inconspicuous.”

“You don’t just love me so much you could sense me from halfway across the world?”

Logan can’t help it—he glances around furtively, heart pounding, hoping desperately that no one heard Finn’s comment. “Well, that, too,” he adds, once he’s sure everyone else is sufficiently distracted. “But mostly that ginger head of yours just sticks out like a sore thumb. I call you mon rouge for a reason, you know.”

“Fuck you.”

"Peut-être plus tard.”

“In English, please?”

“...Maybe later.”

“But I want to know now.”

(If only he knew.)

Logan feels giddy as he realizes they really do have time for ‘maybe later.’ They have time, and they’ve earned it. After all, it’s been a day. It’s been eight years. 

It’s been forever. 

***

It’s almost a year later that Leo wakes up in an empty bed. He yawns, stretches, arches his back and hears his joints pop. For a moment, he wonders where his boys—even now, the thought that they really are his boys makes him unbelievably happy—are. 

Then he hears the voices from the kitchen. A smile spreads across his face at the exclamation of “Oh, shit!” and he swings his legs over the side of the bed, placing his feet on the floor and preparing for whatever disaster may greet him. 

(Honestly, who thought letting Finn and Logan cook was a good idea?)

And true enough, the moment walks into the kitchen he’s greeted by two things: the grinning faces of his boyfriends, and the smell of smoke. 

“What’s burning?”

“The bacon.” 

“Of course it is.” He reaches over, taking the pan from Finn, and scrutinizes it. “Salvageable,” he declares, “But please never try to make anything other than instant ramen again.”

Logan nods sheepishly. “Sorry,” he says. “We just wanted to make you something special. Y’know, for your birthday.” 

Right. 

His birthday. 

He’d actually forgotten about that. 

He’s not sure how—it’s all he’s been able to think about for almost a month now it’s here and he knows all three of them have the same thing on their minds. Sure, he’s excited, but right now, he’s leaning a little more towards terrified. Today’s the day. 

But he knows, when he lets a very real grin spread across his face, that they won’t pressure him. They know it’s his choice, and they’ll respect that. He has nothing to worry about except for the fact that the smoke detector is around six seconds away from going off. 

“Here,” he instructs Logan, putting the frying pan down on the stove. “Grab the fan from the bathroom—the little portable one—and bring it in here if you don’t want the fire department racing lights-and-fucking-sirens down our street.”

“Oui.” 

“Finn… just try not to set anything else on fire.” 

The hustle and (incredibly mild, all considering) panic only lasts for a few minutes. Finally, Leo presses a kiss to the top of Logan’s head, ruffling Finn’s hair, and opens the fridge. “Thanks for the breakfast, by the way.”

“Anytime.”

“...Or not.”

They all laugh at this, and when Leo grabs the milk and pours out three glasses, he watches them. He sees Finn pull out Logan’s chair with an exaggerated bow, glancing over and smiling when he and Leo lock eyes. 

It’s the classic movie dilemma. Will he, won’t he. Won’t he, will he. 

He waits until they’re all seated to bring it up. In the meantime, he rubs his wrist through the long-sleeved shirt he wore to bed yesterday for this very reason. It meant he was warm last night, but at least he gets a choice this morning. 

“So.”

Finn and Logan both look up. “Yeah, Peanut?” one of them asks—probably Finn, but Leo’s mind is too far away to give it much thought. 

“Are we going to talk about it?”

This time, it’s definitely Logan who responds, shrugging and poking at his bacon before saying, “Do you want to?”

“I think so.”

Here Finn cuts in. “I only have one thing to say, and that’s that whatever’s on your wrist? It doesn’t change anything. You’re mine—you’re ours—no matter what. We don’t have to be soulmates to be in love.” 

“I know that. I just… I used to feel like I was missing something, you know? It’s been ages since I did, but at the beginning I felt like this was your relationship, and I was just an extra part of it.” 

“I… I didn’t know you felt that way.” Logan’s eyes are earnest, emotional. Leo thinks he might see tears there. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be. No, really—I felt that way, sure, but I don’t anymore. I know you guys love me. That’s what matters. I’m just tired of having the ability to tell myself I don’t belong, and this… this is what confirms it either way. 

“I want to know. I really do. But I can’t help being afraid of the answer.” 

Finn opens his mouth to speak, but Logan beats him to it. “It’s your choice. Whatever you decide to do, we’re here for you. You can do it today, you can do it tomorrow, you can do it in a year, you can do it never. Je t’aime, mon amour. Toujours.”

Time seems to slow down in the instant it takes Leo to reach into the deepest recesses of himself to gather all the courage he can find, take a deep breath, and pull up his left sleeve. His hands are hidden under the table, so neither Logan nor Finn knows what’s happened until Leo’s face spreads into the widest smile he’s ever worn and a choked, happy sob escapes his lips. 

He can see in both their eyes the instant they realize—Finn first, Logan following mere instants later—and he rubs a thumb over the golden print. Somehow, he knows that one’s his. 

He’s already seen this mark a hundred thousand times, but it feels so much more real there on his skin, blue and golden and green and—

“Yeah.” They know what he means. He wants to shout it out loud, sing it boldly as he walks down the street, because they’re his soulmates, and the only thing that matters more than that is that they’re in love. 

thanks to @peggyrose19 for betaing and @lumosinlove for the incredible characters <3

[liquid-luck-00]

I Hate You

Part 1: You’re not just my Friend

#2: I hate you from @zambie-trashart Prompt List

Next

DC Supersons x Miraculous

~~~~~~~~~~

Dick wasn’t sure what was going on, but it probably wasn’t good. After Tim and Damian came back from the Kent’s Damian has been in a worse mood than usual and Tim had a grin that reminded him of the Cheshire cat. That could not be good. Surprise is putting it mildly when Tim finally spoke about it the next morning.

“Did you know Jon has a cousin from Paris?” Tim asked and his grin was plastered on his face and it was starting to become unsettling. Hearing this Damian started to scowl harder into his plate, how is that possible.

“No. Why? ” Dick was almost to scared to ask, and he really should not have asked.

“Well apparently they always try to fool and prank Connor and well the two ‘twins’ got me and the Demon Spawn over there”

“What do you mean with ‘twins’ and ‘got you two’” it was Jason who spoke up this time.

“The two of them swapped places and I thought Jon’s cousin was him and he her” Damian practically growled.

Jason burst out laughing “Your serious two kids fooled the Demon Spawn and the genius!" Jason all but fell out of his seat from laughing. "Oh that is absolute gold”

Dick couldn’t help but smile and agree with the second eldest.

———

That was when Bruce entered the dining room.

"Do I want to know" he asked with a tired sigh sitting down. Damian was seated glaring at Jason, who was laughed hysterically, Tim wore a cheshire grin but his face had an embarrassed blush, while Dick seemed the most composed you can tell he is close to laughing as well.

"So you know how Tim and Damian went over to the Kent's yesterday" Dick began.

"Yes what of it" Bruce replied.

"Apparently Jon has a cousin who looks and acts like him"

"I still don’t get why this is relevant Dick"

"So these two thought Jon was his cousin and that she was him" This time Jason did fall out of his seat.

"Why don't we invite them over" Bruce grinned this is something I want to see.

———

Dick and Jason could not take it. Both of them were literal rays of sunshine. They tended to answer questions for themselves and one another. Making it hard to figure out who was who.

One of them was in a light grey jacket with a blush shirt, light washed jeans and white sneakers. The other was in a red shirt with a black and white open flannel shirt over it, blue jeans and red sneakers. Both of them were wearing a baseball cap to hide the length of their hair.

Because both sides were a part at this game kept everyone on their toes.

They tried to swap their phones but didn't work. She and Jon set them identically however they pointed toaster that there was a minute difference in the screen saver.

After two hours Damian seemed to be done. So everyone placed their or votes on who was Jon.

The four siblings all pointed at her thinking she was her cousin.

"Nope" she smiled. The three older boys began to laugh while Damian was beginning to fume.

"If you guys thought we were tricking you with our clothes you were wrong" Jon explained.

"You two figured it out huh" Mari looked to Bruce and Alfred.

"It was slight but Miss Marinette is more graceful, dance perhaps?" Alfred responded but also asked.

"Ballet" she smiled.

"Also it is hardly noticeable but Jon's eyes are a bit more electric where Marinette's are more bluebell." Bruce stated.

"Looks, like four people can now tell as apart Mars" Jon smiled.

Damian huffed and stalked back into the manor.

She was going to go after him when she was held back.

"He's just mad you two got him again" Jason spoke between laughs.

"Give him time" Dick reassured, she nodded her head.

———

About half an hour later Alfred said Lunch would be soon, and since Damian was still gone, she went to look for him.

She found him in a gym going through forms with a sword.

"Lunch will be soon" he stopped and watched her.

"Why act like Kent?"

"Huh."

"Why act and attempt to be someone else?"

"I'm not trying to be anyone. Jon is my cousin and we are alike. If we like to play pranks together it doesn't mean we are trying to be another person."

"Tt. How am I supposed to believe you. If you are Kent's cousin, I hardly know you. If you are Kent, then you are deceiving me. So why should I trust what you say?"

"Do or don't but I'm not lying."

"Tt. We'll see." faster than Mari could process Damian charged at her sword still in hand. Her legs wouldn't move but she still had enough sense to guard her head with her arms. Unfortunately the tip of the sword still got her. A cold sting ran about a centimeter above her left eyebrow, cut through it to almost four centimeters past her eye. Then she felt a burning sensation the longer the wound is exposed to air.

"Tt. so you are Kent's cousin"

"If by that you mean not Kryptonian yeah" she turned on her heel and walked out looking for a bathroom. Her breathing coming in shaky gasps. She had taken off her jacket and was using it to stop the blood while applying pressure.

———

She isn’t kryptonian, but she didn’t run. Why didn’t she try to leave not just attempt to block.

Damian went to the dining room for lunch. Kent’s cousin wasn’t there but everyone else was. He simply sat down and began to eat.

“Hey Damian do you know where Mars is?”

“Tt. Why would I know where she is?”

———

That was when Marinette walked into the dining room. Her jacket was folded and she was holding it and her hair was now parted to the right and not the left as it was earlier.

“What happened?” Jon’s voice was steely the opposite of his usual cheeriness.

“Please drop it” Marinette spoke steadily, but her eyes were pleading with her cousin.

“You never told us that your cousin was human” Damian spoke almost bored still eating.

“Because it wasn’t relevant” Mari bit out. Now all attention was on her and in a house full of detectives she was not going to get out of this.

Jon flew over to her and was examining her. That was when he noticed the cut on her brow. “Mari”

“It’s not as bad as you think” but he didn’t listen he grabbed the jacket she had set down and unfolded it. That was when the entire family saw the blood stains on the light grey fabric.

“Miss Marinette, may I” Alfred now came up to her and began to check her as well. “It needs to be closed. Unfortunately it will scar.”

“Now we will be able to tell them apart” Damian deemed it appropriate to speak.

“I hate you.” Mari glared at the green eyed boy “I hope your proud of yourself.”

“Tt. I don’t see the problem.”

“Of course you don’t”

“Damian care to explain.” Bruce demanded.

“It seems self explanatory”

“He attacked me”

“You attacked Pixie” Jason seemed to take offense on her behalf.

“Why aren’t you more upset or in pain that looks bad” Dick went into mother hen mode.

“Because there is no use dwelling on it. And thinking about it makes it hurt more”

“Still Mars it’s bad, you really shouldn’t need to hide this” Jon was starting to become overprotective.

“I’m a klutz I’ve had worse. Besides I’m just tired at this point.”

“But” Jon was going to argue further but she didn’t want to hear it.

“Hey look at it this was Conner will finally be able to tell us apart.” Jon pursed his lips and so did everyone else in the room. Mari gave a smile as to lighten the mood but was unsure if she succeeded. Well there is no point in dwelling on it now.

Next

~~~~~~~~~~

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