#at least like the direction it's going in

[noisilyscreechingsong]

Dp x Dc short idea

Jason is Danny’s dad

Warning: Language

Jason had just returned to the family publicly about two weeks ago. It hadn’t even been that long for him to settle before something happened. The press weren’t even off his ass and he has Alfred requesting he return home for an urgent matter immediately, which is butler speak for get your ass here right now!

The family was happy but adjusting to everything. They had mandatory family dinners at least twice a month and voluntarily got together more frequently, mostly just the siblings, but every once in a while Bruce would sneak in for a movie in the family room.

Alfred was pleased with the progress the family has made over the course of many years. It finally felt like everything was coming together and maybe settling down. He knew he thought that too soon when he answered the buzzer at the front gate. They weren’t expecting any visitors and looking at the video feed it was a young woman with hands on her hips glaring back at the camera. There were two large bags with her and surprisingly enough a young child playing in the grass just a short distance behind her.

“Wayne Residence, Alfred Pennyworth speaking, how may I assist you, ma’am?”

“Lettin’ me in for starters,” she says back with venom on her tongue.

“My apologies, but you do not have an appointment.”

She snorts, “Nah, but ya see, I saw that bastard on the news and thought I’d drop off what he gave me.”

To get her point across, she turns and looks back at the little boy not paying her any attention.

“Danny!” She snaps and he jerks his head to look at, who Alfred is assuming is, his mother. “Come here.”

He hops up at his own pace and dusts off the grass on his knees before trotting over. She leans down to angle the young boy away from the camera and pushing back his hair.

He couldn’t see it well before by the way the boy was positioned before, but Alfred could clearly see a prominent patch of white hair on the left lower section by his neck. Just like the white batch on Jason.

“You gonna let us in now?” She asks rudely.

Alfred has already determined he did not like this woman. He still buzzes them in. He contacts Jason immediately followed closely with Bruce.

Alfred then helps the two carry in the bags, while subtly checking for any weapons or explosives. Instead he finds things meant for a child.

He really didn’t like this woman.

Bruce is the first one to arrive down the stairs, pausing towards the bottom. He glances at Alfred and can see the displeasure in the butler’s eyes.

“Hello, ma’am. I’m Bruce Wayne, nice to meet you.”

“Fuckin’ everyone knows who you are, Brucie Wayne,” she huffs with a roll of her eyes.

Bruce glances down at the very young child who is hearing the foul language. He couldn’t be more than five, and completely oblivious as the little boy runs a hand along the wall and looks around at everything. He particularly keeps going back to the shiny chandelier above their heads.

“Who might you be?” He asks the woman, coming back to her as she almost touches the vase on the entry table. She draws her hand back to fold her arms across her chest.

“Grace.”

The name seems ironic compared to her behavior.

“And how can I help you, Miss Grace?”

“Your thought-to-be-dead son left something of his. I’m here to return it.”

It took no detective to determine she was talking about the boy currently using the door frame to the sitting room as leverage to rock back and forth, holding on with his tiny hands. Bruce could see the splash of white among the dark hair from this angle.

Bruce hums.

“Is that so?”

“I’ve already contacted Master Jason. He should be arriving soon. Shall I prepare some refreshments in the drawing room?” Alfred informs.

“Thank you, Alfred. Right this way,” he says to Grace, directing her toward the left while pulling out his phone to ask Tim to prepare the proper equipment downstairs.

“Danny!” The woman calls with impatience. She glares at the little boy who calmly turns to look at her, then skips behind them.

Grace huffs but doesn’t say anything else as they enter the room. She sits herself in the middle of the love seat and Bruce takes one of the chairs across from her. The boy, Danny, explores the room thoroughly, walking around without pattern and investigating every nook and cabinet to keep himself entertained. Very curious little child.

Bruce tries to engage her in conversation to dig up more information, but she firmly wanted to wait for Jason before divulging anything. He did however find out that Danny is four and needs to be enrolled in kindergarten next turn. Grace works night shift but wouldn’t say where.

Alfred came with three waters, one in a smaller plastic cup for Danny, and a plate of crackers and cut up fruit.

Grace eyes the butler with a raised brow. However, the first words Danny has spoken in their presence is a cute, “Thank you, mister,” before munching on a cracker and sipping from his cup. His curious eyes flick over the fruit and wanders over to his mother who picks at a rip in her jeans. He taps her knee and she sighs.

“What is it?”

“What’s that?”

Danny points to the fruit.

“What’s what?”

He creeps forward to point directly at the blackberries mixed in with the blueberries and strawberries.

“Blackberry,” she answers shortly.

“What’s it taste like?”

“Why don’t you try it and find out?”

He must have approved of that suggestion and reaches in to clumsily wrap a tiny hand around one of the dark berries. He flips it over in his hand for a minute, observing it at all angles, feeling the texture of the little bumps, before shoving it in his mouth. Danny leans his body over the coffee table to drag the bowl closer and rummage through it for more goodies.

Really looking at him, Bruce could see Jason’s freckles and the few other similarities like his square jaw and lip shape. He hasn’t seen it yet but Bruce bets Danny has the same crooked grin as his son.

He has the woman’s pale complexion and nose shape. His hair was straight like hers instead of Jason’s curls, but Danny took his dark coloring compared to her light brunette.

The boy was an adorable mix of both his son and this woman. He almost felt the test was unnecessary, but he didn’t stop Alfred from replacing the plastic cup and take it back to the kitchen where he knew it would be handed off to Tim.

Thankfully it was a day where there weren’t any meetings for either of them to attend.

Surprisingly, it isn’t Jason that enters the room first, it’s Damian coming home from school. The fourteen year old, almost fifteen, holds a leash in one hand with Titus standing patiently next to him, ready for his after school walk.

“Father, I heard we have guests.”

The teen stops in the doorway and Danny turns with interest until he spots the animal, then his eyes bug with excitement.

“Mommy, doggie,” he whisper shouts.

She just hums in affirmative, looking the new arrival up and down.

Danny grabs a blackberry from the bowl and trots over to Damian. He holds out the piece of fruit.

“This is a blackberry,” he states proudly.

Damian blinks down at the small child. Titus tilts his head, his nose working hard.

“I’m aware.”

“You can have it, if you let me pet your doggie,” he negotiates like he needed to give something in order to receive permission.

Damian looks up to his father for answers.

“Jason will be here soon,” is what he gets instead, his father’s lips twitch.

Damian looks back down in sudden realization when he sees the similarities between the man and this boy. He sighs tiredly.

“Pennyworth. A wet washcloth if you please.”

“Right away, Master Damian.”

“Next time, you only need to ask to pet Titus, you do not need to give me anything in return,” he tells the child.

Danny looks down at the berry sitting in his stained hands.

“So you don’t want it?”

“…Maybe later.”

“Okay!”

Danny skips back to carefully set the berry off the side on the tray, as if to save it for Damian for later like he said. He jogs the short distance back to them.

“Can I pet your doggie now, please?”

Damian takes the washcloth Alfred hands him with a nod and crouches down to get level with the boy.

“We must wipe our hands first. We don’t want anything sticky in his fur,” he explains as he holds out the washcloth for Danny’s hands.

The four year old looks down at the stains to see what he means and then places his hands on the washcloth for Damian to get the juices off.

The teen then calmly explains how to properly approach a dog he does not know by letting Titus smell the back of his hand first and then to always stay calm and confident.

Titus, the gentle giant that he is, had no problems letting the tiny child pat him and run small fingers through his short fur. It was endearing to hear the giggles when Titus used his big nose to sniff at the child’s face and neck. Sitting down, Titus was taller than the child standing up, which would have been scary to some kids, but Danny seemed to love Titus instantly. The little boy easily telling the dog what a good boy he is even with the dog sitting there doing nothing.

“Titus needs his afternoon walk now,” Damian informs.

Titus stands at the word walk, clearly ready to go.

“Oh, okay.” Danny turns to the big dog to reach up and pat his head twice. “Bye-bye, Titus. Have a good walk.”

The two leave and Danny skips back over to hang over the arm of the love seat his mother sits in, typing on her phone.

“Mommy, did you see the doggie? His name is Titus. He’s a good dog.”

“Uh-huh,” she comments without really listening.

“Do you like dogs, Danny?” Bruce asks with a smile.

Danny looks at him like he forgot the man was there, tilts his head as he studies him for a moment. Bruce waits patiently until Danny deems him okay and perks back up with bright eyes.

“Uh-huh! I love dogs! Mommy says we can’t get one ‘cuz our ‘partment is too small and they’re dirty. You’s guys are lucky,” the boy rambles as he wanders around the coffee table to get closer to Bruce and away from his distracted mother.

“How do you feel about cats? Damian has a black and white one around here somewhere.”

Danny shrugs and they continue to have a rather pleasant conversation about different animals and foods and each of their houses. It takes up the amount of time for Jason to walk through the door, seemingly already informed of the situation from Alfred.

Jason was… flabbergasted. Bewildered. Caught unprepared. He was a lot of words. Mostly he was scared.

Did he really have a child? A son? If that was true then he missed so much. He missed all of his firsts. First words, first steps, first laugh, first everything.

Would the boy even like him? What if he saw all his scars and was scared of him? What if he didn’t want anything to do with Jason after not being in his life this whole time?

But the boy might not be his. There’s that. That could be… Jason didn’t like the disappointment that thought brought.

Grace was the first one he noticed. Her ripped jeans and low cut top being out of place among the antique furniture and Persian rug. She scowls at him, putting her phone down.

“Finally decided to show up?”

He bites back a comment. He broke several traffic laws to get here, it wasn’t his fault he was fourty minutes away at the time he got the call.

He glances over at Bruce and instead his eyes zero in on the child standing by the armchair Bruce was sitting in.

Just one look and he knew the boy was his.

He looks to Bruce anyway for confirmation, since he has no doubt he sent off a sample to Tim hiding like the troll he is in the basement. The man nods. Jason sucks in a deep breath and suddenly needs to sit down.

He sinks heavily in the matching armchair next to Bruce’s, separated only by a round end table. Jason can’t stop staring at those big, blue eyes that are filled with such curiosity and innocence he almost breaks down right then. But he can’t. He has to be strong. He can’t just walk away to get a handle on his emotions. He’s a dad now.

“You’re a hard man to find,” Grace folds her arms over her chest.

“I’ve been busy,” he answers lamely.

She humphs and looks away with a shake of her head.

The boy, Danny Alfred said his name was, creeps around Bruce’s legs to get closer, obviously seeing something in Jason enough to investigate. The room is quiet as they wait to see how Danny will react.

Coming to a stop right before his knees, Danny stares up at the large man with lots of scars and muscles from what he can see. He wasn’t scared. There was just something familiar that he couldn’t quite put his finger on. He looks… he looks like… and he also feels almost like…

Furrowing his brows in a pout, he knows his Mommy doesn’t like it when he does it, but he still makes his eyes burn with green.

The man gasps and his eyes also swirl into an angry green.

“Daddy?” Danny asks with hope and joy.

Daddy swallows and then nods.

“Yea, buddy, I’m your dad.”

“Daddy!” The boy cheers, jumping in place with a wide smile. “Daddy! Mommy, look! It’s Daddy!”

Danny wastes no time climbing into the man’s lap and wrapping his arms around him as far as they’ll go (not very far) to press his ear to Jason’s chest over his heart. He’s practically vibrating with excitement and Jason makes sure to set a large hand on his back to hold him close.

“I fuckin’ knew it,” Grace hisses, her eyes wide at the display earlier. Both of their eyes had returned to their calmer blue and teal color, but everyone in the room saw it. “I knew he got it from you.”

His eyes narrow in warning, pulling the boy closer to his chest. He sets a hand over Danny’s exposed ear to protect him from the harsh words he’s probably already heard before.

“Do you have any idea how creepy it is to deal with a tantrum when your kid has fucking glowing green eyes?”

“Did you hit him?” Jason growls, the vibrations seeming to settle Danny even more.

“Please, I’m not my mother,” she dismisses with a sneer.

Could have fooled him.

“Everything was fine until he started doing freaky shit. I don’t know how to raise a meta kid, alright?”

“What are you talking about?”

Now he was just confused. What stuff was Danny doing that Grace thought he was a meta?

“Don’t try to pretend you don’t have powers too,” she points viciously.

“I’m not pretending. I don’t have powers. I don’t have the meta gene. What can he do?” He demands while being transparently clear.

She just glares back at him, obviously not believing him. That didn’t exactly matter at the moment.

“What can he do?” He repeats with emphasis.

She puckers her lips like she’s tasted something sour and then lifts her chin.

“Why doesn’t he just show you, huh? Danny- Would you stop babying him? Danny, show him the things you can do.”

After Jason takes the hand off the boy’s head, Danny turns to his mother warily.

“But you don’t like it,” he reminds, like she forgot.

“He wants to see it, so show him,” she waves a hand at Jason like he just asked for something he would regret.

Danny leans back to look up at his dad.

“You won’t get mad? Or scared?”

He sounds so unsure and scared. As if Jason could ever hate him. Jason really wants to punch something. Preferably something with her face on it.

“I promise I won’t.”

Another parent might have something more profound to say to reassure their child, but Jason was just starting out and honestly, it was more than Bruce would ever say.

Danny thinks for a second before wiggling to get down. He looks back once more at his mother who gives him a ‘get on with it’ motion.

The boy fidgets a little before covering his face with two hands like he’s playing hide and seek, then- disappears. Jason jerks at watching his son blink out of sight like a Martian.

“Boo!” Danny pops back into view, exactly where he was standing before with his hands out like any child on Halloween.

Jason blinks and then starts laughing. This was karma. Danny could literally become invisible, something the Bats train to do for years.

“That was good, buddy,” Jason chuckles, ruffling the kid’s hair.

Danny hesitantly smiles back, a bit of hope and pride in those eyes.

“There’s more,” Grace interrupts, seemingly uneasy with how well Jason reacted.

“Yea?” Jason directs to Danny, his focus on his son.

Danny gives a shaky nod, glancing over worriedly at Bruce who is just silently watching. Jason could see the tension in his shoulders but also the intrigue.

The boy places a hand on the coffee table and focuses on his hand. It took a few minutes of concentration before Danny’s hand went through the table like he was just dunking his hand in a pool instead of through a solid object.

He pulls his hand out and they could see it be slightly translucent.

“That one’s harder to do when I want to,” Danny mumbles.

“You mean it mostly happens on accident?”

Danny nods.

“I drop a lot. And get stuck sometimes.”

Yea, Jason can see how that could be a problem. He can’t imagine how terrified Danny was the first time a body part got stuck in an immovable object. He really wishes he could have been there for him in his panic.

“The last thing is hard too. But I’ve been practicing. Watch!”

Danny jumps once, twice, and on the third time he lingers in the air, coming down slowly like someone in water or astronauts on the moon. Danny pushes off the ground a fourth time, this time floating steadily higher like gravity meant nothing to him.

Despite the kid obviously have done this before and enjoying it with his giggles, Jason stands under him in case he falls. And falls he does. Suddenly, like the strings being cut and gravity taking hold of him again, Danny plummets into Jason waiting arms. The boy grunts on impact and then smiled sheepishly up at his dad.

“Sorry, Daddy. I promise I’m doing better.”

“That’s okay, squirt. I’m glad I was here to catch you.”

Jason plops back into the chair with his child in his lap.

“Anything else up that sleeve of yours?” He teases but is equally as serious.

Danny shakes his head enough to make his hair fluff. Jason looks to Grace for confirmation and sees she is still recovering from Danny’s fall out of the air. How many times has she had to catch him? Or wasn’t able to catch him?

She clears her throat.

“I don’t know if it’s part of it, but he never gets sick. Never even had a cough.”

Children always get sick, that’s how they build immune systems. For Danny to have never gotten even a cold, Jason doesn’t know if it’s worrying or a good thing.

“Any allergies?” Is the first thing on his mind, thinking of what Alfred will need to know.

She shakes her head with a negative hum.

“In one of the bags is a folder with all of his documents. Birth certificate, immunizations, doctor visits. I also made a list of some favorite things and things he hates. It has foods on there too.”

That was… honestly more than he was expecting from her. But it also cements the fact that she intended to drop him off with him and then never see them again. She raised him for four years and she doesn’t even want visitation? Does she not understand there are legal documents she needs to sign to transfer custody properly?

“There are some things you need to sign, but it will take some time to get it sorted,” Bruce chimes in all business.

Long nails swipe through the air like signing her rights away was trivial.

“My phone number and address are on one of the documents. Just tell me when and where.”

She stands to leave and Jason can feel Danny tense up.

“Are we leaving?” He asks worriedly, climbing down from his seat on his dad’s lap. He didn’t want to go.

“You’re staying here. With your dad,” Grace says shortly, not once looking at the boy.

“Are you going home to get the rest of our stuff?”

“No. I’m going home. You’re staying here. End of story.”

Danny visibly thinks on that for a second then scampers after his mother as she leaves the room.

“Is it like Robbie where his mom lives in one ‘partment and his dad lives in a different one?”

Grace sighs and runs a hand through her hair. She’s clearly flustered and is showing it as irritation, but Jason can’t help but trail behind in case she says something that she shouldn’t.

“No, Danny, it’s not like Robbie. I- I am leaving you here and I’m not coming back, okay?”

Jason takes a step forward to draw her attention and send her a look that says ‘choose your words carefully, this is a conversation he will remember for a long time’.

“But- but why? Is it ‘cuz of my things? I’m sorry I scared you, Mommy. I didn’t mean to. I won’t do them again, promise.”

Jason grits his teeth at how desperate his son sounds, trying to keep his mother with him. Even making a promise he can’t keep.

Grace finally looks at her baby. Sees the turmoil and tears in his baby blue eyes. She gets down on her knees to get level and places her hands on his tiny shoulders.

“You will do them again and that’s not a bad thing. Your things are part of you. That’s okay. You’re not in any trouble. I just- I’m in over my head here, Danny. I can’t take care of you the way you should be taken care of, okay? But your dad can, I hope. So I’m leaving you here. With him.”

Danny’s lip wobbles and she has to restrain herself from not hugging him like she always does when he’s upset.

“Then- then you’ll visit, right? Like Chase’s grandma visits him?”

Why is this so hard?

“I don’t think so, baby. I don’t think you’re gonna see me again. I’m sorry.”

Danny is silent for a while. He wipes his eyes and sniffs.

“Are you goin’ ‘way like Jamal’s dad?”

The ten year old in the same building as them lost his dad in a wrong place wrong time type situation. Jamal had told Danny his dad went away forever so he couldn’t see him again. Grace had told him that when people go away forever, they get put among the stars he loves so much to be remembered.

Grace wears such a pained expression Jason half thought she was about to burst into tears.

“Kinda,” she nods. “So give me a big hug, okay?”

Danny was in her arms before she finished speaking. Jason didn’t exactly know why she wanted to stop all contact, but he had a theory that if Danny really was a meta (and with his powers he was leaning toward believing it) then Grace would want to distance herself as much as possible to protect them both. He met her in Crime Alley, he knew they didn’t live in a good spot. If any one of those crooks saw Danny use any of his powers, they could steal him easily from his single mother. She didn’t want to give those kind of people leverage to get Danny and sell him off. She wasn’t trying to be cruel, she was just trying to do what was best for her kid, even if that meant cutting her out of his life.

He had a strange new respect for her he didn’t want to acknowledge.

Grace takes a heavy breath and pulls away showing Danny’s tear stained cheeks. She wipes them like it would do anything.

“I gotta go now, Danny.”

“No,” he cries and Jason’s heart breaks a little more.

“We gotta say goodbye now. Please.”

Grace is just barely hanging on. Jason knows as soon as she walks out that door she’ll break down.

“I don’t want to. Don’t want you to leave,” Danny whines, trying to keep a strong grip on his mother.

She holds his hands in hers and gives him a serious look.

“You’re going to be fine. You’re gonna be just fine with your dad.” She leans in and whispers, “You’re not alone, Danny. You are never alone. Just look up. Look at the stars, baby, and you’ll be okay.”

Danny pouts, but thinks about those words.

“I like the stars,” he mumbles.

She smiles, probably the first one in a while.

“I know you do.”

She kisses his forehead one last time and stands. Danny whines. She steps away.

“Bye-bye, Danny. I- I love you.”

“Mommy,” he cries, tears and snot coming full force now.

Jason can’t take anymore and picks up his son to hold on his hip.

“It’s okay, buddy. I got you,” he assures. He turns to Grace who is having the internal battle of her life in the foyer. “I got him.”

It’s an assurance to her too, that he will take care of Danny, that he would be there for him. It was a promise.

Grace sees it for what it is and leaves out the front door without another word.

Danny screams and cries and struggles, but Jason holds on tight, scared he’ll fall or use his powers to get away and disappear. The man walks back to the drawing room so his son wasn’t staring at the door longingly.

As soon as Jason sits down, Danny struggles harder since they stopped moving. So Jason stands again, adjusting the boy in his arms and starts pacing a path around the room.

Bruce has already disappeared, not knowing what to do with a heartbroken child crying his eyes out. Alfred has cleared away the tray of snacks, leaving two waters on the table, one in a small, plastic cup. Jason spies Damian poke his head in for a second to see what the matter was, and upon seeing no immediate threat went off wherever. Other than that, father and son were alone to figure themselves out.

Danny was going through a lot for a toddler and Jason didn’t exactly know how to handle what happened either. He tried his best with speaking reassurances into the boy’s hair, but he didn’t know if Danny even heard him over his own crying.

It was a rough first meeting to be frank, but after a while (what felt like ages) Danny cried himself to sleep and Jason felt it safe to finally sprawl out on the loveseat with the boy laying on his chest. Compared to a grueling patrol, that was definitely worse. He never wanted to have to go through that again, but knew as a dad it was part of the job description.

[navybrat817]

All Dressed Up

Pairing: Biker!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky visits a gallery to support his best friend and unexpectedly meets the girl of his dreams.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: First meeting, mild dirty thoughts, instacrush, swearing, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Okay, lovelies. A new AU. I'm sorry. @targaryenvampireslayer @tavners @starlightcrystalline @whisperlullaby @sgt-seabass @vesearlee , I feel like you all either heard me screech, encouraged, or helped me, and I appreciate you. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo and divider by the incredible @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

Bucky didn’t dress up for most people since it wasn’t his style. He would do so for any of his brothers though, especially Steve. His best friend since childhood, and his club’s president, he always had a love and talent for drawing and painting. And after working his ass off on his exhibit it would’ve been a crime for the vice president not to show up.

Steve promised if there was ever a day when Bucky’s writing became published he’d be by his side to celebrate too. As much as they liked to give each other shit sometimes about art and how they created it, the support was there through and through. The only catch for tonight was that he had to dress nicely to get into the gallery. So, instead of the usual leather jacket or vest he wore and jeans, he went with a plain black suit and white button up shirt.

He refused to wear a tie since it wasn’t a wedding. He had to draw a line somewhere. No one paid him any mind though as they walked around the gallery, and he was more than fine with that. This wasn’t his night.

“You should be proud, punk,” Bucky said, looking over the art lining the large wall, each piece crafted with care.

“I am proud, jerk,” Steve smiled. He hadn’t worn a tie either, and it made Bucky feel a little better. “And you know you don’t have to stay the whole time.”

Bucky knew that. He also knew members and prospects would be trickling in and out throughout the evening. “Not needed at the bar tonight, so I can stay as long as I want. But I might cut out early since I see your face enough between that and the club.”

Steve chuckled. “Still haven’t sold the place, huh?”

The brunette sighed. It wasn’t the first time Steve asked if he was going to sell the bar to focus more on writing. “Where the hell would you all hang out if I sold the place?” He liked the bar. It wasn’t just a great hangout for the club, but for his other regulars, too.

“There are other bars,” Steve teased. He said that, but he loved the bar, too. “You know I just want you to-”

“Follow my compass. I know. You’ve said that so many…” He stopped talking when he saw an unexpected angel walk into the room.

Well, angel was the word that came to mind since you were wearing a white dress and the light over your head illuminated you like a halo. But as his eyes swept over you, he wondered if there was a bit of a devil in you. He wouldn’t mind bringing that side out of you if you gave him the chance.

And here he used to think love at first sight was bullshit.

“Hey. Do you know her?” Bucky subtly nodded in your direction as you spoke to another woman, jealousy flaring up for a second at the thought of his best friend knowing you and not telling him. And if you knew Steve, that was that before things even started. While the blonde didn’t have much game growing up, he came into his own after his growth spurt, and everyone adored or wanted him.

Steve shook his head. “No, I don’t,” he said, making Bucky’s shoulders slump in relief before his friend scrutinized him. “Jesus, are you eye fucking her? You are, aren’t you?”

Bucky wasn’t the least bit ashamed. “And I’ll keep doing it ‘til she looks at me,” he replied, wishing you’d at least spare him a glance and get a look at him in his nice suit. Maybe you weren’t into guys with tattoos and piercings, but he was certain he could change your mind if that was the case.

“How long has it been since you’ve been on a date?” Steve asked. “Just introduce yourself like a gentleman and see where that goes.”

“A couple of months? Something like that.” Tearing his gaze away to glance at his inked hands, he chuckled. “You think I’m a gentleman?”

He could be dangerous and downright dirty when the occasion called for it, but just because he rode a motorcycle and covered himself in tattoos and piercings didn’t mean he treated others poorly. He was raised better than that. Even with his ex-girlfriends, things never ended because he didn’t treat them well. They just weren’t the one.

“We both know you are. Sometimes,” Steve answered, smirking as a beat passed. “And she’s looking your way.”

Bucky’s head snapped up to find you looking right at him with a curious stare. You had the prettiest eyes he had ever seen. Which was nothing compared to your smile. It was like watching the sun slowly rise to meet the day.

Fuck, he was being sappy. You ruined him with a single stare, and he wanted to ruin you in return. Make it so you wouldn’t want another man.

You whispered something to the woman beside you before she nudged you forward and he realized Steve pushed him to move, too. It only took three more steps before he was right in front of you, the gentle smell of your sweet perfume filling his nostrils. Need slammed into his body as you smiled again, and he actually felt the blue of his eyes shrink as his pupils widened.

If Steve thought he was eye fucking you before…

“Hey,” he said, his voice raspier than usual.

“Hi,” you said. It was a voice he could listen to for hours and he wondered what it would sound like when you said his name.

“I’m Bucky.” He took a smaller step closer, trying his damnedest to block out any other man around him so you’d keep those pretty eyes on him.

You introduced yourself, too, and it was a name he would never forget. “I like your tattoos,” you added almost shyly. Almost.

If he had his way, you’d see the rest of them soon enough. “Thanks,” he smiled, holding one hand up to show you. “Dressed like this, I bet you think I’m part of the mob.” After getting dressed and adding the gold jewelry, even he thought for a split second he looked like a mobster.

“Are you or is that information I can’t be privy to?” you asked, making him chuckle. You didn’t skip a beat, and he liked that.

“Not part of the mob, but I am part of a motorcycle club,” he replied. He wore his patch with pride and that didn’t seem to scare you, which was good. “I also own a bar.” He didn’t know why added that part. You didn’t ask and he didn’t want to brag, but there he was.

“So, you ride a motorcycle, and you own a bar?” You glanced back at your friend to ask her, “Do you mind if I…”

“I’m good. You two talk,” your friend smiled, giving Bucky an encouraging wink. He looked back to find that Steve walked away, too.

You smiled as you faced Bucky again. “Well, I’m happy to hear more about either of those things if you have time.”

“Yeah.” A lopsided smile appeared before he could stop it. “I got time,” he said. All the time in the world.

Over the next hour, the two of you stayed close together and talked in between looking at Steve’s pieces. He told you he was there to support Steve and talked a little bit more about the bar he owned. A hole in the wall kind of place he fixed up. While he wasn’t a big drinker, he loved making them for his regulars, and his profession allowed him to get away with all the tattoos.

“I’ll have to stop by sometime,” you smiled before it faltered. “If that’s okay.”

He didn’t want to get his hopes up, but his heart raced, and he wanted to see you smile again. “I’ll hold you to that,” he teased. “What about you? What do you do for work?”

You told him that you were a blood bank nurse and still fairly new to the area. While you didn’t have too many friends nearby, you liked your neighborhood and the one friend you had made invited you to the gallery since she was an art enthusiast. You also let it slip that you were single upon your move here, which he was happy to hear since he was, too, but he didn’t miss the note of sadness in your voice.

He could help fix it if you were lonely.

“I’m not seeing anyone either,” he stated.

You raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “You don’t have an old lady?” His eyes went right to your lip when he bit it. “That is the correct term of endearment, right?”

“That’s right,” he said, his eyes soft. “Both of those things are right.”

You bit your lip again and he wasn’t sure if you were purposely trying to entice him, but now he wanted to bite your lip. “So, do you do anything for fun outside of riding and work?”

He almost groaned when you said “riding” and he had to shake his head to keep his mind from drifting. He couldn’t think of you being on his bike with your arms wrapped tight around him or you riding him or anything like that. “Well…”

He explained that he wrote a bit in his spare time outside of work and the club. It was a hobby mostly, but it would be a dream come true to get his work out there one day. If not, that was okay, too, because he had a decent life and didn’t need much. His bike, his brothers.

But to have an old lady…

“Maybe I could read…” you frowned when you saw the time. “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize how late it was. I should get going,” you said, disappointment filling both of you.

“Oh.” He scratched the back of his neck. The two of you were having a nice talk, and he hadn’t had a chance to ask about your hobbies yet. “It’s still kinda early. Do you really have to go?” he asked, realizing just how desperate he sounded. God, if the prospects could hear him right now… He just didn’t want the night to end.

“Yeah, I do. I’m actually working a blood drive tomorrow and could use the rest,” you said, smiling sadly. He felt like an ass for asking you to stay when you had work to do. “I don’t know if you’ve heard anything about it, but you’re welcome to stop by if you want to donate. I always have this fear that people won’t show, which I realize sounds ridiculous.”

Bucky mentally kicked his ass for not knowing about a local blood drive. He was usually more on top of those sorts of things. “Where’s it at?” You gave the location and time, which was all he needed. “I’ll be there,” he promised.

And every single club member would be there, too, if they knew what was good for them.

“Really?” you smiled, your hand bumping his when you turned to face him. “You’ll go?”

He let his fingers brush yours and he smiled to himself when he felt the light shiver. “Of course, doll.”

“Doll?” you giggled. He hoped he didn’t offend you. “I hope you show,” you added in a small voice, your gaze focused on the ground.

Frowning a bit, he wondered if you didn’t believe him. Did someone let you down before? “If I say I’ll be there…” He lifted your chin, so you’d look into his eyes. He needed you to see the truth in them. “I’ll be there.”

You exhaled, staring deeply into his eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow then,” you whispered.

He grudgingly released you, knowing he had to. Besides, if he kept touching you, there was a good chance he’d pin you against the wall and show you what a work of art you were. “Good night,” he whispered, watching you go back to your friend. She linked her arm with yours as you glanced back, keeping your eyes on Bucky until you were out of sight.

He exhaled, mentally kicking his ass again. Why the fuck didn’t he ask for your number? You two hit it off, and you wanted to see him at least in some capacity beyond the blood drive, right?

Steve made a beeline for him as he stayed rooted to the spot. “It looks like you two hit it off. You know you didn’t even say hi to Chris or Sam or-”

“We’re going to a blood drive tomorrow,” he cut in. He hoped people would show, but he gave you his word he’d be there, and the club was all about giving back to the community.

The blonde’s eyebrows pinched. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Blood drive. Tomorrow. Everyone,” he said, giving his friend a hard stare. “You’re the president. Make it happen.”

“You’re the vice president, which means you supervise plans for club events or gatherings. That includes last minute things,” he pointed out, his eyebrows shooting up as Bucky got his phone out and typed quickly. “You’re serious about this?”

“Is it too much to say, ‘You better fucking be there or you’ll pay for it later’?”

The blonde grinned. A shit-eating, knowing grin, and he wanted to smack him. “This is all for her, isn’t it?”

Bucky sighed. He hadn't expected to meet someone so perfect tonight. “She’s a nurse and I wanna help. Besides, it’s good for the community and you’re all about that shit.” And he had to make a better impression after not asking for your number. “Will you at least promise you’ll be there?”

“To watch my whipped best friend fawn over a pretty nurse? Hell yeah.”

“Beautiful,” he corrected him. “She’s beautiful.”

And while Bucky would fawn over you tomorrow, he also hoped he’d get your number.

So, what do we think so far? Part of this writing style was slightly different for me, but I like how it turned out! I still need to give this reader a nickname and the AU a name, but this is a start. I can't wait for the whole club to show up at the blood drive. I also have something silly and cute planned for these two. ❤️ Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[multipleoccupancy]

Theo listened and half watched Violet as she spoke about the Hounds. How she was afraid of them and how they could come from corners. It was a little harder for him to understand but he did catch her glance towards Sloane and he studied her for a long moment, using his drawing as an excuse but something had clearly happened to Sloane and a Hound.

"The cultist saved you?" He put the pieces together and was admittedly surprised, he had assumed the man who had thrown her from a window and tricked her into doing a ritual was not going to save her from a monster. "Well, I guess you and your dad got two cool knives out of it anyway, so that's cool right?" He tried but he did get a little caught on the idea of Hounds. Having no real concept of them from what Violet described, only their crystal like structure and toxic blood. He didn't think he wanted to know more than that.

Samantha's gesture was interrupted and Theo took that as his win, she failed to retaliate but now his mind was on other things. Even as Sloane missed his shot it didn't really register with him until Samantha started gloating again before even taking her next shot.

Sloane meanwhile accepted the gloating with a small smile and watched as Samantha went to take her next shot, successfully. Oh she wasn't going to let him live that down now.

"Well done," he told her as she celebrated, smiling and taking the crossbow again, to take his next shot, this time much faster than before. Aiming and pulling the trigger nearly just as he got into the right position on the stage. A direct hit! He turned and grinned at her, "Any bonus points for style?" He glanced to Killian too, not wanting him to weigh in too heavily on the topic but he could see he was apparently very busy with his drawing. At least he was distracted from the crossbow now.

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐎 & 𝐕𝐈𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐓 @multipleoccupancy

Pleased that Theo approved of her note, Violet returned to her trap, focusing on the mechanism of the spring levers. "I'm afraid of them too," she admitted, "they appear out of corners, and they are very dangerous. And what they do to someone when they kill them..." She shuddered. Her eyes landed on Sloane, stood next to Samantha, and her heart sunk to her stomach. She quickly looked down at her drawing again. "Yes, they're made of these strange, sharp angles. And their blood is toxic."

"We've faced a hound together, once," she explained, though didn't give more details on the matter -she didn't want to tell him that it was the Horned One who had saved their lives. "But other than that time, we've always faced them separately. I got the shards for our knives when a Hound attacked me in the..." She grimaced. "Cultist timeline. The Theo from there killed the Hound." With a ritual. "And collected the shards. He let me keep two." Violet knew that it was odd to say that the same Theo who had thrown her out a window had also saved her life. But her relationship with him was odd. And tempestuous.

Before Samantha could retaliate, Sloane was praising her so genuinely that her hand -which she was about to use to make a very rude gesture- fell limply to her side. "Thank you." She was blushing.

This could have been a sweet moment. Unfortunately, Sloane's failed shot ruined the spell, and Samantha was quick to forget all about his lovely compliment to gloat instead. "AHA!" she exclaimed, "what did I say? I'm gonna make mincemeat out of you!"

"Oh, it counts, mister. And now, let the pro dazzle you." At least, Sloane was right. Samantha was no longer focused on Killian's taunting, too busy enjoying what she thought would be a swift victory. She took the crossbow, aimed, shot... and hit! "Boom baby!"

[bunny-jpeg]

sundays off

toto wolff

tags: smut/pwp, age gap (20s/50s), power dynamic, poorly translated german, lap sex/cowgirl position, oral sex (toto receives), couch sex, unprotected sex

a/n: *makes vague gestures* i wrote this in a back corner of a train heading to see my beloved <3

nothing felt better than a sunday night with no racing. at least that was what you told yourself. the season seemed to stretch on and ended in heartbreak as this was the final races with lewis. while the wound of departure still stung. you were happy for toto to be home.

the place you shared in monaco with your beloved partner. he wasn't your husband yet, and he was far too old to be your boyfriend. so, you were partners. it made you seem like you were crime fighters. but you were certain most crime fighting duos weren't doing this on a sunday night.

"that's it, geliebten. take me as good as you do." his voice tinged with a certain want that made you toes curl as your nose dug into his pelvic area in an attempt to deep-throat him.

you were toto's beloved, underneath all the pet names and heavy touches, you were the center of toto's universe. it was to such a degree that he couldn't have you on the track too often. it was fine at monaco or austria. that made sense, but if you lingered on the track for too long toto couldn't focus. but that meant the was pent up by the end of the season.

and when toto came home, he wanted to make up for lost time. and that usually started with re-training your throat. between his legs, your mouth around his cock as you pleasured him. eyes fluttered shut as you took him as deep as you could. you could feel the pleasure thump in the back of your head as your spit clung to your chin.

toto held your hair in his hand and his other hand on his thigh as he leaned back into the couch. he admired how you look as the pleasure coursed through his body. the feeling was something else, he could feel the thump of his heart in his ears as your nose rubbed up against his trimmed pubic hair. he was impressed with himself after all the time he could still keep up with a young thing like you. he said in that low voice of his, his accent heavier with lust, "was für eine wunderschöne prinzessin." the words burned in your brain and soaked your core as you continued to orally pleasure him.

you'd get yours soon enough, toto wasn't the type of man was satisfied with one round. a man like him only reached the heights he did because of an insatiable greed.

you continued to orally pleasure him and the pleasure grew with a fire in his gut. he shifted a little on the couch and held onto your head a little tighter. his grip could be so hard it could bruise, but he'd never hurt you like that (unless you begged very nicely).

"a beauty." he said lowly, "i missed you every weekend. the photos and videos don't do your beauty justice, prinzessin. i did like the one with you on our bed, you in my shirts and trying so hard to get yourself off... but it's impossible without me, right?" he heard you moan in response at his question.

he guided your head a little faster and he could feel you choke a little bit at the feeling of his cock intruding further down your throat and it made something race through him. double header after triple header, race after race, he yearned for the softness of his lover. he wished you didn't blind his focus so much or else you'd be in his lap during the race. but it would be hard to direct the likes of russell or lewis with a hard-on.

your throat tightened around his cock as he gave the back of your throat a few more thrusts before he came inside of your mouth. he groaned under his breath was he let go of your head and relaxed against the couch. the white leather was a place of such debauchery when the older man got his hands on you.

you swallowed dutifully and took your mouth off of his still hard cock. you looked up at him with a needy look in your eyes. you needed your pleasure met too. it was hard to give head and not get so sexually wound up. and toto was more than happy to give his princess everything she so desired.

he stroked his hard cock lazily, it slick with your spit. heat in his cheeks and his dark eyes took in the sight of you before he said, "if you want it, geliebten. you're going to have to work for it. i work hard to give you everything you want, but this, you're going to have to actually work for." then smiled like a mad-man when you scrambled up on shaky legs and got into his lap. your wet cunt took him beautifully.

he tensed up for a moment and swallowed from the feeling on his already overstimulated cock. he placed both of his large hands on your hips and guided your down. his cock nudged against what felt like your womb and toto loved the feeling. your warm walls made him feel the sharp feeling of pleasure in his body. and then when you started to move up and down his cock.

"oh, geliebten." he purred, "i see you haven't forgotten the lessons i've taught you. how to please a man." you barley had given a blow-job by the time you met. toto spent a summer break making sure you understood how to drive a man wild.

"how could i forget, toto." your hands were across his clothed chest. he was still mostly clothed while you were naked. save for the anklet on your left leg with toto's name on it. you giggled, heat risen in your cheeks, "i think you fucked all my university knowledge to make room for what you taught me."

he chuckled lowly as his hands roamed your hips and a little more north, his eyes trained on the jiggle of your breasts, "well, a lover can be a good teacher. especially when the student is so eager to please." his voice was like honey in your brain and it made you only more needy for him. he kissed at your breasts and held the fat flesh in his hands and dragged his teeth and tongue across it.

you continued to move against him. you felt the excitement run through you. his sole attention on you made your body heated. there was a fire in your core that yearned for him. you wanted him, you needed him. you were his world and he expected nothing but loyalty.

"please, toto. fuck, it feels good. it left impossible to cum when i was home alone. nothing beats you." and then yelped when toto slapped you on the ass which only made you tighten around him.

"i know, prinzessin. i think i may have broken your brain with sex... my apologies. but, don't worry, i won't even make you go without." he chuckled lowly as he continued to meet your pace. he watched your body move with each heavy thrust and he felt the excitement in his bones. weeks apart, the rush of the race. despite it all, toto thought of you. he loved you. he adored you in ways that he could never put into proper words. how could he? if one met an angel, they couldn't simply put the experience into words. it was the same with you.

his voice was heavy as the words tumbled out, there was a slight ache in his hip from your movements and the position. but that could be dealt with after, you cunt was soaked for him. he even slipped out a few times, but with a little help you managed to sink yourself back down onto him. he let out a groan and you arched your back a little.

"you feel so good, geliebten." he said with a heated lust in his tone as he gripped onto you a little tighter. you felt good, your cunt was perfect around him. the fire only grew in his core as you continued to fuck him feverishly.

there was a pain in your hips as you rode him, but it was overwhelmed by the feeling of pleasure in your body which kept you moving against him. the thump of your heart could be felt in the back of your mind with a heat in your cheeks. you loved him, you loved him so deeply. you missed him, the weeks apart made it hard for you to deny yourself him. to let yourself fuck him with wild abandon. it was hot. you knew you wouldn't last much longer, not while you were riding him so well that it short circuited your brain.

your pants were heavy, your tone low as you said to him, "toto, please, honey. i'm close." the thump in your soul was a raging fire as you continued to move your hips against him. you felt the fire through your blood as you kept your pace. you fucked him through your climax, you tensed around him which only made him more turned on.

"cum for me, angel." he said lowly, "cum like you've been meaning to." then kissed at your jaw as you gave it a few more heavy thrusts before he finished inside of you. he tensed up as he held you close and let you work his body through his climax.

eventually you slowed to a stop and you slumped against him. you wrapped your arms and held onto the soft material of his t-shirt. you knew he could keep going, but you were spent. surprising that even at his age he could happily keep going like a real stallion. you held onto him and kissed him until your lips were raw. it felt amazing, good in a way that made you excited all over. it was heated, a sense of euphoria rushed through you.

"got your fill, geliebten?" he asked softly, "i see that you missed me."

"i always miss you, honey." you exhaled deeply, "missing you is like missing a part of my soul. i always need it."

he kissed the side of your head as he held you. maybe next season you could visit a little more. it would be good for the team, bring up the morale. toto just had to think of a way to keep himself from getting distracted, but he had an entire off season to come up with a plan <3

[sweetdispatch]

The card - Q. Hughes

6 days of kinkmas

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

summary: Quinn and his girlfriend got into argument which led him to teach her manners

warning: NSFW, graphic sex (18+), safeword, dom!quinn, oral (f and m receiving), dacryphilia, slapping, orgasm denial

words: 1.8k

note: final day of kinkmas is here! but i have a surprise for 24th👀

---

Quinn, as a captain, was organising a Christmas party for his team. He needed your help but you were giving him a cold shoulder. A day earlier you two got into an argument and you didn’t want to forget this without apologies from him. You felt offended by his words and how low he thinks about you. As much as you wanted to help him, you didn’t want to give him satisfaction. 

“All I’m saying is that it would be nice if you would tell me about this party at least a week earlier. Not day before” You sighed, trying to explain to him why you were mad.

“You don’t do anything so what’s the issue that I told you this now?” 

“What is this supposed to mean?” His comment made you furrow yours eyebrows. 

“You’re sitting at home the whole day doing nothing. It shouldn’t make a difference that I told you now” He shrugged and you looked at him, shocked at the words he just said to you. You left the living room and went to the bedroom. 

This was yesterday and the two of you haven’t spoken since then. You had nothing to tell him because Quinn is the wrong one. If he thinks that you’re doing nothing, that’s exactly what you decided to do. You saw that he was struggling with preparing meals and cleaning at the same time but you were too stubborn to help him. 

“Could you help me with the cake? You're a much better baker than I am” He asked you politely when he saw you getting water from the fridge, but you hadn’t responded. You went back to the bathroom to do your makeup and acted like you hadn't heard anything. 

Quinn was furious at you. He couldn’t understand why you’re acting this way. In his mind, he hadn’t said anything wrong and you were the one who’s making a big deal of your conversation. He decided to let it slip for now, but after the party, he knew he’ll teach you manners. 

The party was going smoothly. You two acted like a loving couple around his teammates while you hadn’t sorted out the argument. You were chatting with other girlfriends when Quinn was standing with the boys near the kitchen island. One of the girls went to grab a drink and interrupted his conversation. 

“You’re a dick Quinn” She said and the boys looked at her. “You’re a dick for telling Y/N that she’s not doing anything in the house”

“Excuse me?” Quinn was taken aback by her words.

“She told us about your argument. How could you say this to her when she’s making everything so you could have a better life” She answered him and left. She sat on the couch and Quinn felt humiliated. 

The boys were chirping at him about this situation and he got even more mad at you. He started thinking about his plan to punish you for what just happened. You were completely unaware of the fact that one of the girls confronted Quinn and enjoyed the party. He could see you laughing from afar but he knew that you won’t be laughing when the two of you will be home alone. 

The party ended around midnight. When you closed the door after the last guests left, you sighed. All you wanted was to take off your makeup and get changed into something more comfortable. You started going to the bathroom when you heard Quinn. 

“Living room. Now” His voice didn’t leave a space for argument. You followed into the room and saw his furious face expression. “You think it’s funny to tell everyone about our conversation? You think this was nice when one of the girls came and called me a dick in front of others?” 

You were shocked. Yes, you told other girls about your argument but you never thought that they would direct this to him. You didn’t know what to say so you just stood there, waiting for his next move. 

“I’m using the card today” You froze hearing it. You completely forgot that a couple months ago you gave him a “card” that meant that he can use you however he wants and do whatever he wants. “You’re under my control and have nothing to say unless it’s a safeword, which is…?” He asked you to be sure you remember. 

“Sunflower” 

“Good, now I want you naked in the bedroom. Hands on your sides and no touching” 

You were turned on by the idea because sex with Quinn was always insane and you were curious what he’s gonna do to you. You took off your dress and threw it on the ground. You sat on the bed, waiting for him to come into the room. You trusted Quinn with your life and you knew that he would never hurt you but something in his voice made you nervous. You’ve been so caught up with your thoughts that you haven’t heard when he entered the room. He was standing only in his underwear. His voice brought you back from your trance. 

“Knees” You listened to him and positioned yourself in front of him. He was caressing your hair and tucked them behind your ear. “We could have a nice night but you had to run with your mouth. I think we need to put it into better use now. You already said too much” 

In a quick move, Quinn took off his underwear and you saw his hard dick. By instinct, you grabbed his dick and started playing with his length. He wasn’t happy with this and pulled your hair roughly so you could face him. 

“I said mouth. Don’t you dare to disobey me because it will end up even worse for you” You nodded and opened your mouth letting him put his dick inside. 

Quinn’s moves were rough. He was pushing his cock into your mouth without any mercy. You were gagging around him but this didn’t stop him. It turned him even more. You could feel the tip of his dick hitting your throat. Tears were spilling from your eyes and he laughed at the sight. Before he could cum in your mouth, he took out his dick. 

“Lay in the bed. Legs wide open” You do what he told you to. He kneeled in front of your pussy and started eating you out. “So wet and I’ve barely done anything” He chuckled and returned to licking your clit. 

Quinn pulled his fingers into your pussy and you moaned loudly. You felt incredible with his tongue on your clit. He could feel that you’re close to your orgasm but he stopped. You looked at him but he didn’t say anything. Only grabbed your hips and threw your body around. You were lying on your stomach when you heard.

“Ass up, face down” You positioned yourself and waited when you felt the first slap on your ass. You screamed by surprise not expecting this. “Next time you’ll want to act like a brat, remember how it feels” 

Quinn spanked you four more times. The pain became a pleasure for you and when the last spank laid, you moaned. He looked at your red ass for a couple seconds. He did this on purpose so you don’t know what he’s gonna do next. The next thing you felt was his dick deep buried inside of you. 

You were a mess under him. It felt so good when Quinn was fucking you roughly. You grabbed the sheet trying to find balance but with each thrust you were falling apart. It didn’t take him long enough to bring you close to your release. When he felt your muscles tightening around him, he pulled out. It was the second time when he didn’t let you cum.

“You’re not gonna cum until I say so” He stated and laid another spank on you. 

“Please Quinn, I need it” You begged him.

“Please Quinn, I need it” He mocked you. “You, my sweet girl don’t have anything to say” 

He thrusted into you again, this time you moaned loudly. He was keeping a hard pace and you went with your hand to touch yourself. Before you could do it, Quinn grabbed your wrist and placed your hand on your back. He did the same with your other hand. Now, you were totally at his mercy. Quinn was keeping your hands behind your back, still fucking into you. You were moaning and begging him to let you cum but he didn’t let you. Again, he pulled out of you and you cried. 

“I am gonna decide when you gonna cum, not you” He said not bothered by your tears.

Quinn threw you again and you were again on your back. He towered over you and thrusted into you again. You moaned but now, he shut you up with a kiss. It was the first time you tasted his lips today. His hand went to circulate your pussy and you started feeling overwhelmed. Other hand, I went to play with your boobs. This was all too much for you. All the touches, teasing and three denial orgasms. You couldn’t take it anymore.

“Sunflower” You said repeatedly, each time quieter from another.

Quinn took his dick out of you and panicked. He knew that he fucked up because you never used it before. He pulled you into a hug and started caressing your back. 

“Shh, you did so well. You’re safe” He was whispering into your ear and you started crying into his shoulder. It was breaking his heart knowing that he’s the reason you’re crying. “I’m so sorry baby, tell me what I can do to make you feel better” 

“Just hold me please” Your voice was breaking at each word. Quinn hugged you tighter and let you calm down. After a couple of minutes, you spoke again. “Can we take a bath and forget about it?” 

“Yes and no” You looked at him. His thumb wiped your tears. “We can take a bath but we have to talk about what happened. I need to know what exactly happened to push you to say this word. And don’t you even think that’s embarrassing. That’s why we have the word. To use it when it’s too much” He placed a kiss on your forehead. 

Quinn raised you and went into a bathroom to prepare your bath so you could relax. He stayed by your side all the time, reassuming you that everything’s fine and you’re safe. You appreciated it that he didn’t leave you alone to deal with this but wanted to help you. When you were ready to leave, again he raised you and gently dressed you up in his shirt and laid you on bed. 

“We don’t have to talk about this now but tomorrow okay?” You nodded and Quinn pecked your lips. “Goodnight babe, I love you and I’m sorry for today… and yesterday” 

“Stop, we’ll talk about everything tomorrow, now let’s just sleep… I love you” You curled into his chest.

[lady-griffin]

I do disagree with this or at least parts of it.

Viktor making a human error is beyond accurate though.

Despite Viktor’s claims about being “evolved” and the god-like imagery surrounding him, he’s still a flawed human; this is made especially clear when Viktor said the Z-Drive couldn’t exist as he was obviously wrong as it very much did exist and was about to explode in his face.

But I don’t think Viktor (through Warwick or some other means) not seeing Ekko because he was under the rubble makes a whole lot of sense.

If that was the case, it would’ve made more sense for only two sky tendrils to go into the Hexgates, not three, since Ekko was partially covered up by the rubble from the start.

Or even better, showing the tendril meant for Ekko overlooking him, but we're not shown that; instead, we're shown Jinx dodging a tendril and it dissipating right after it missed her.

This happens extremely fast and it’s beyond easy to miss; even I just assumed the tendril stopped existing, rather than noticed we start seeing it disappear. I mean don't get me wrong, they could've made this a lot more overt in my opinion, but it is there.

And it does make sense to me that the tendrils are "one shots" when we look at them visually; when they're coming down they slightly come apart, but not completely.

This gives the impression that they're not exactly stable forms of energy, but once they connect to someone that breakage stops completely and they become solid, stable lines.

Even though strands slightly pull away from the main tendril they don't disappear, rather they rejoin the main tendril a bit further down; so, if the main tendril no longer exists, it make sense to me we would see the strands dissipating.

Furthermore, because Viktor messed with the gravity of the Hexgates, Ekko isn’t actually hidden underneath the rubble by the time the sky tendrils come from them.

We’re even specifically shown the rubble floating off of a him a few minutes before the sky tendrils make their appearance.

So, it doesn’t make sense to me that Viktor (directly or indirectly) didn’t notice Ekko or lost track of him, as a tendril was sent for him and aside from floating a bit, he didn't move.

Also, if Ekko was only spared because Viktor didn’t "see" him, then what happened to that third tendril? Why don’t we see it continue to exist? Searching for him? Wouldn't that also imply the tendrils don't last if they don't find/reach their target?

The sky tendril missing Jinx and disintegrating right after, leading to either Viktor himself or the tendrils following some kind of “preexisting directive,” prioritizing Jinx and thus sending the one originally meant for Ekko after her makes a lot more sense based on what we're shown.

This is still Viktor making a human error, because three tendrils were sent down to the Hexgates, but only two people were connected.

Viktor either didn’t realize or care one person wasn’t connected.

Which makes sense, at that point Viktor was beyond certain of his victory and arrogant in how he “saved” humanity from itself; why would he bother to notice or care about something as insignificant as one person not being connected? How could one person stop him?

And then along came Ekko.

One of my favorite details from the finale is how three sky tendrils go into the Hexgates to take Vi, Jinx, and Ekko.

But Jinx dodges one of them.

This at first seems like a false victory, since she’s immediately grabbed by Warwick and another one just takes her.

But it’s not a false victory. The one that took Jinx was originally meant for Ekko, who was an unconscious duck at the time.

Because Jinx dodged the first sky tendril, Ekko remained disconnected from Viktor’s hivemind – which as you know, was kind of a major factor in the whole stopping the apocalypse from happening.

It’s this small, short-lived triumphant moment that seemingly doesn’t matter and yet it was essential to Ekko's major triumph in the end.

So yeah, I just really love that detail.

Also, I couldn't resist putting the flash frame of Ekko here, because my god, the art in this show is beyond amazing.

[corawithfanfiction]

Hi! Would you ever consider do anything that was Aaron Taylor Johnson x reader? (his celeb self I mean.) Maybe something like they’re working on a movie together (y/n is younger) and get to be friends and then something transpires between them? Ahh!!

Aaron Taylor-Johnson x Fem!Reader (Young Actress Reader - Request)

My Materialist

warning: claustrophobia, age difference, dirty language, nickname, divorce, coworker, action scene, car accident, creep, expectation.

summury: You're doing test shoots for action scenes with the lead of your new movie. You always thought you were like a sister to her until you find out that he is now a single man.

(2632 word)

Ask for permission before quoting or translating!

Hope you like it sweetie, I try the write as soon as possible :) @smallmarvel

It was one of the new weeks in your new project. The reading rehearsals had been over for a few days. But post-production had taken a long time. Or maybe it's because it's your biggest project and you've never experienced this kind of crew and work discipline before.

The cast had been in camp for months and all of them had been working out constantly to change their bodies for their roles. In the last days you have been working on your choreography. Your screen time would be about fifteen to twenty minutes, but the opportunity to work with such a cast made it all worthwhile.

You had two fight scenes, one big and one small. Although it wouldn't be right to call them both fights. Generally the bad guys were chasing you and our hero was there for you, but there were still moves you had to memorize.

When you first read the script, you thought that since it was an escape scene, it wouldn't challenge you and you would just run. But it wasn't like that. You had to jump, jump, sometimes crawl and even fight one-on-one. To make the scene more realistic, you were choreographed to fight for your life. At first you hated it, but once you learned the moves and started doing them much faster, you started to enjoy it.

Today was the day of the test shoot.

It was the first time you and the rest of the crew would act out the scenes together. Of course you had all met each other. You had rehearsed readings, the director had organized some nights for you all to get along better. One of them was a movie night where you watched some of the old crappy horror movies. It was a milestone day when you couldn't be afraid to laugh and you started to feel comfortable around each other as a team. Another night was a silent movie night. It was through events like these that you formed good friendships.

Aside from being friends with the crew and spending time together, today was the first day you were going to be in front of the camera. And it was for the fight scene. You were the last name in the cast and you were the least famous of them all. In direct proportion to that, you were not the main female character of the movie, but all your scenes were with the hero of the movie, the leading male character. Aaron Taylor-Johnson, who is going to save you from the bad guys in today's the test shoot.

Aaron was a very funny and kind man. He would come to your workouts to make you feel comfortable, give you feedback and often praise you on how well you were doing. In addition to these interactions, he was usually quiet on set. He would share a laugh with certain people, but he was very kind to the whole set and the staff. A true English gentleman.

When you arrived on set, you put on something comfortable. Leggings, a sports bra that covers your breasts and makes the whole action scene easier for you, and a loose t-shirt with the logo of your favorite band. Since it was a test shoot, you were wearing air force sneakers. You were determined to at least make this test as comfortable as possible until the main shoot.

Aaron came into the field right behind you. He was similarly dressed in comfortable clothes. He arrived in gray sweatpants and a basic t-shirt. They rocked back and forth with their hands in their pockets, talking to the director about the scene. You'd have to be blind not to notice the movement of his muscles with each sway…You reminded yourself that you were a married man and tried to focus on your scene.

After he finished talking to the director, he came up to you and said, “Good morning, baby.” He pulled you into a hug. You knew he gave you that nickname because of the age difference. You reminded yourself that there was nothing to be excited about and accepted his hug.

When he pulled back, with an energetic smile on his face, he asked, “Are you ready for today?” His smile must have been contagious because you were smiling back. “As much as I can,” you replied, shaking your legs - in a pose as if you were about to run a marathon.

His grin was still on his face. “We'll try not to push you too hard today, but we still want to go through all the scenes. But if there's any scene or movement that makes you uncomfortable, we'll definitely stop shooting,” he explained with great care. You had to admit that you were very lucky to be working with someone so kind and understanding. “Thanks Aaron, I really appreciate it, but I don't think we'll have any problems, we've been rehearsing these moves for weeks.” You reassured him. “Honey, the shot might feel different though, remember to stop if you have trouble.” He insisted. “I promise I will stop the scene if it feels uncomfortable,” you reassured him. All the while trying not to get hung up on the new nickname...

The first test shoot went quite well. The more complicated scene was next, but you decided to do it tomorrow. Or rather your director decided so. This decision was made because he wanted to shoot tomorrow with full make-up and clothes. Because it is necessary to decide whether the costumes in the movie will cause any problems in the scene and choreography and what precautions should be taken if necessary. So tomorrow you will enter the set as if you are shooting the first scene of the movie. Lights, camera, makeup, hair, costume… Everything you can think of will be prepared. To be honest, you're very excited about it.

But this was tomorrow's subject, today's subject and a new movie night. The leading lady of your movie had invited everyone who was doing a test shoot today to a movie night at her house because her house was quite close to the set.

You decided to change at the set before going back to the hotel and go with Aaron. Because he had arrived by car and you didn't want to waste time looking for a taxi.

The ride was peacefully silent until the sound of Aaron's cell phone connected to the car filled the air. “Excuse me, this is important. If you don't mind-” As soon as I saw the word lawyer appear on the screen, I said, ”No, no, please. I don't mind at all.”

When he picked up the phone, the loud, booming voice of the lawyer on the other end filled the car. “Hey, buddy, how you doing?” Aaron's fingers were turning white as he gripped the steering wheel. His grip on the steering wheel was tighter than it had been since he'd called the lawyer. “Please give me some good news Kev,” his lawyer, Kev - you probably think it was Kevin - noticed Aaron's nervousness and started to chuckle. “Relax man, you're a single man now. Sam accepted the deal and signed all the papers. Congratulations man, enjoy your new life.” Aaron let out a deep breath at the sound of the phone hanging up. “I'm sorry this is really-” before you could finish the sentence Aaron's laughter filled the car and you heard him say something like 'oh shit' but you didn't dwell on it. His happiness was contagious and the awkward silence in the car was gone.

You couldn't say the same about movie night, though. They had chosen a really terrible movie this time and you were constantly screaming and disturbing the whole crew. One or two people who were really enjoying the movie were a bit annoyed by this, but the crew was having a lot of fun with your reactions.

When the lead role was finally placed alive in the coffin, you felt your breath catch in your throat. “I think I-” the incoherent words came out so quietly that no one even realized you were about to have an attack of claustrophobia. As soon as you started to fidget on the couch, an arm grabbed you around the waist and pulled you towards him. You couldn't see who it was in the dark room. With one hand still on your waist, he grabbed your neck with his free hand and held you against his chest. You immediately inhaled the familiar scent. You relaxed yourself in the safety of the warmth. “Shh, calm down doll, I'm here.” His low voice and the sound of him moving around your waist were enough to calm your nerves. But his lips barely touching your ear sent a shiver down your spine. You were about to remind yourself that this was wrong when you remembered that he was now a single man.

When you arrived on set, you went straight to your trailer for makeup. While you were lost in the memories of yesterday, your makeup was finished and your hair was being done.

Shortly after the movie ended, you and Aaron said goodbye to your friends and left. You were staying in the same hotel, so you went on the car ride together again. He made fun of you a little during the ride and finally you agreed to watch a comedy movie together. When you arrived at the hotel, he insisted on escorting you to your room even though your rooms were not on the same floor.

After opening the door to your room, you wished each other good night. Before you parted, you shared another hug. It was the longest hug you had ever shared. Sure, it was a minute hug, but it usually lasted no more than a few seconds and no, every time you hugged Aaron you didn't calculate how long it lasted. “Good night, baby,” he whispered in your ear as his hand circled your back. Then he left after leaving a vague kiss on your burn.

While your hair was being done, you were drowning in memories. You told yourself you were exaggerating, after all, he always called you baby. You were like his little brother, that's what you had been telling yourself for weeks, except you didn't know then that he was about to get divorced and that he was now a single man. Yes, there was an age difference, but it wasn't twenty years. You were just a couple years younger.

You came out of your daydream with Aaron's voice. “Hello baby,” he winked at your image in the mirror. ‘Good morning Aaron,’ you smiled. When you were called from inside to put on your costumes, you waved “See you in a minute” and headed towards the cabin. After changing your clothes, you took one last look at your image in the mirror and went to the set area. It wasn't a superhero movie so there were no weird tights and uncomfortable costumes. It was a chase scene where you would be chased by the 'bad guys' after you left work and then it would take place on the streets of the city. He was wearing tight fabric pants, a white shirt and stilettos. When the scene first started you would run in heels. Then you could switch to sneakers because they would not be visible in the camera angles. But neither the shoes nor the shirt made you unhappy. The only thing that bothered you was the lacy bra. You were looking for the comfort of your sports bra from the day before.

On the director's orders, you started the test shoot. You came out of your model building, realized you were being followed while walking down the street and jumped into the first taxi you saw. The team chasing you rear-ends your taxi with the car they are driving and you get stuck in the vehicle. At this moment, Aaron arrives and performs the fight scene with the men chasing you. After he rescues you from your trapped position, you take him by the hand and run together. At this point you were planning to change your shoes but you didn't want to stop shooting and you wondered how long you could go on.

After all, it was a test shoot. If you failed, you wouldn't try something like this next time. As you ran hand in hand, your heel caught on some fake stones. As Aaron checked you were okay, you gave him a sign that you could continue. As you continued your scene, you realized that the shoe was hurting you now. And the more you stepped, the more it hurt. But you were still shooting and you didn't want to give up on the first try.

You squeezed the hand that Aaron was holding. Immediately he turned to you and a low whimper of “Aaron,” escaped your lips. He immediately checked you with his eyes and tried to figure out what was wrong. “I don't think I can go on in these heels much longer,” As he was about to signal the director to stop the scene, he shook his hand once more and said, “Please don't stop the scene, we are almost finished. I don't want it to be cut because of me.” As you were quickly looking for a solution, the camera was coming towards you from the backstage area.

As you wondered what to do, you felt yourself being swept off your feet. As you let out a little scream of surprise, you could tell that your director was enjoying the moment and was pleased with the image that was being captured on camera. Aaron embraced you bridal style. And he was running towards the area where your final scene would take place. “What are you doing!” you whispered after your astonishment had subsided a little. “I couldn't let you writhe in pain Y/N,” she said, giving you an angry look. “Oh, I thought you would enjoy watching me writhe in pain…” you snapped.

When you got to where you needed to be, he took you off his lap and you did the moves you had memorized for your scene. With the fake explosion planned on the set, you ducked down and crawled together to where you were supposed to hide. The camera went back to filming the extras fighting. You had time to lie down for a few minutes.

You tried to forget the pain in your feet as you lay on your back where you were crawling. You were a little stressed by the narrow space you were in, but your breathing was regular.

As the shouting and explosions continued in the background, Aaron crawled to where you were. Since you had decided to lie on your back, he was now standing over you, leaning on his elbows. He never took his eyes off your eyes for a moment. “I enjoy you squirming Y/N” he said, and you realized that he had returned to the previous conversation. “But I'll make sure it won't be in pain.” Your breath began to betray you as his gaze slid to your lips. He leaned in even more, closing the distance between you a little more. “But I will also show you that we are away from the cameras,” his words sent a shiver down your spine and a warmth to your core.

He immediately noticed when you involuntarily squeezed your legs together. He leaned down until his lips touched your earlobe before leaving his spot for his scene. “I knew you were made for me, baby.” He said. And he left his location to continue shooting. Leaving you there to daydream with all your wetness and anticipation.

TAG LIST:

@kyancat @ivyblue20-blog @chlodavids @chilombodragon @agirlwithmanytastes @polamtz @novaawayne @theofficialpimpworld @buymesomechickentenders @devilslittlehelper @ohadberger @whatis-much @666kpopfan @sunnysomeonesworld @blazingfox23 @ilovethelove-sweetcat-blog @zulema222 @ijustwannaread03 @flyboysgotme @peachcheeksss @daddys-girlie @al-whatever @imabooknerdgetoverit @chocolatestudentllamabanana @valenftcrush @sinfullypassionate @intaerestelares @lauren555 @harlowhockeystick @bigbadbmattyboy @adrianapetrova538 @princesssunderworld @kozmosambrose @memeisbeingcheeky @iamstillovingyou

[moghedien]

their friendship in the book is so… like, Elphaba is the one who considers herself Galinda’s friend first before Galinda returns the sentiment. That’s why Caprice-in-the-Pines hurts her (and me) so much. Platonically at least, Elphaba fell first but Glinda fell much, much harder. TBH, reading the later books I sometimes wanna go “girl, get up!” when Glinda is horrendously down bad for someone she literally only knew for less than 2 years

you gotta remember that book Galinda like never left her hometown until she came to Shiz and is putting on airs to make herself seem better off socially than she actually is. like girl was trying SO HARD to make connections and friends of the proper sort right off the bat to elevate her situation, right?

but then she gets stuck with a scrangly green girl who is either ignoring her entirely or who just plops herself into Galinda's lap and is like "we're hanging out now." Like very vulgar, very frustrating, very much not what Galinda wants. Plus she's green and weird and tries to make Galinda talk about philosophy and religion and rhetoric and have like actual deep conversations with her that require her to actually think and not just say what she thinks is proper.

then this weird vulgar girl is the Thropp Third Descending and heir apparent to about a fourth of Oz. Some of the proper, well titled girls that Galinda is trying to befriend are the future subjects of this girl, actually. This girl has also been all over Oz and has lived in three of the four provinces and she's the exact same age as Galinda, who hasn't been farther than a carriage ride from where she was born and has never seen a city before she came to Shiz.

So that alone is a mind fuck to Galinda who is trying so hard to better her social standing and the actual best way to do that might actually be to befriend her weird roommate who's going to inherit all of fucking Munchkinland but doing that actually goes counter to all of the presumed ways she's supposed to elevate herself.

and then her weird roommate also looks weirdly compelling in Galinda's hats to the point where it makes Galinda feel uncomfortable to think about for too long or bring up with her friends

like Elphaba just existing around her fucked up all of Galinda's very sheltered views on how things work and what she should be doing and that's BEFORE they get wrapped up in conspiracies and murders

And flashforward to when Elphaba left her, which is weirdly the moment when Glinda seems maybe the happiest and maybe like she's reflecting on how she's grown and how Elphaba made her grow and changed the way she thought about things. Like her proper friends didn't make Glinda think about the nature of evil or religion or Animal rights, but Elphaba did. Elphaba MADE her talk about it and made her realize that she could and was leaning her in directions to at least be sympathetic toward the people affected by the Wizard's rule. Elphaba is the first person to make Glinda feel like she could do things and that her actual thoughts and actions mattered.

and then Elphaba left her

The one person that changed everything about how she thought about the world and who was like "we can do this shit" and dragged her to the fucking Emerald City in the middle of the night so that they could do some shit together turned around and was like "Actually, I can't do this with you here" and sent her home.

maybe Elphaba was protecting her. maybe Elphaba didn't trust that she could take the risks she needed to take if Glinda was there. We don't know. And Glinda doesn't know. She just knows that the person who affected everything about her worldview and who made her think that she could do better things than just social climb just told her that she can't do what needs to be done and then abandoned her. Abandoned her right when Glinda was accepting just how much Elphaba changed her and right when Glinda was accepted how much Elphaba meant to her and maybe right after she was extremely intimate with Elphaba and understanding what that actually meant

and the only thing Glinda knows about why is that somehow she wasn't enough for Elphaba to take along with her or for Elphaba to stay with.

Of course that fucked her up for the rest of her life and of course she never got over Elphie.

[rainychaoloveshack]

ﾟ ⋆ ﾟ ☂︎ ⋆ ﾟ 𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫 𝐟𝐢𝐞𝐥𝐝.

you and shadow cuddle up in a flower field. (after some persuasion)

A SIDE • B SIDE

☂︎ w/c. 650

☂︎ a/n. sorry for the all lowercase, i didnt care too much to capitalize while writing (wont happen again, i promise!) im a little rusty when it comes to writing for shadow, sorry if he's ooc

he’s already looking for you, isn’t he?

you can feel him among the flowers, petal after petal swaying with the wind, finding their way to graze across his cheeks, to the very tips of his quills. his ear twitches at the sound of your distinct chuckle, revealing your hiding spot to your ever persistent admirer.

“were you trying to hide?” he calls out from afar, footsteps trampling over the soft blossoms upon noticing you, until he takes notice and decides to soften his steps, avoiding the flowers the best he can.

“hmph.” he exhales softly, the tension in his shoulders dissipating as he sees your cheeky smile. that firm facade of his is already falling to pieces. “are you trying to taunt me?” his usually stern expression softens, not yet a smile, but the corners of his lips twitch as you stretch your arms up high, noticing the silly, yet adorable scrunching of your expression.

something always stirs inside him when he looks at you, even from afar. a sweet sense of familiarity despite how stressful the world can be.

unlike any other feeling he’s ever had.

shadow kneels down beside you, his gloved hand running across the flower petals around your waist, taking the time to drag his fingertips across your stomach. his ear flicks once he snaps out of his trance of admiring you, retracting his hand back as he clears his throat.

“come on. get up and lets go.” his harsh words mean nothing at the fault of his actions, his hand cupping your cheek gently to turn it in his direction. you can see the admiration in his eyes, despite his demanding tone.

you lazily raise your hand, waving it around as a signal for him to tug you up. he lets out a louder sigh than usual, but rises up onto his feet and takes your hand, briefly running his thumb across your knuckles. his lips part to say something else, but you interrupt him with one last attempt to beckon him to your side upon the flower field. his neutral expression sours into a scowl.

“there’s no point in trying to convince me.”

oh well. you huff frustratingly at his words. but there's nothing else to do but give up on his stubbornness.

… no, not at all. you’re not one to give up just like that in the eyes of your lover.

“no, i’m not wasting my-” his eyes widen, the stars and light flower petals illuminated within his irises as you tug him down, grasping him tight on his wrist. the cool feeling from his inhibitor ring hits your palm, but is replaced by his wonderful warmth shortly after, running your fingertips across his quills as your lover squirms within your grasp, displeased. after his incessant complaints and attempts to break free, his demeanor seems to calmen, still apprehensive, but at least he lets you brush your fingers through his quills, his head resting on your chest after a few minutes of this.

your lips part to utter sweet nothings to your lover, but his finger extends to poke you in the cheek briefly, shutting you up with the sudden gesture. he doesn’t look up to meet you in the eye, preferring the sound of your heartbeat.

“don’t.” he says plainly, his voice rough as usual, but his body relaxes once he snuggles up to nook his face into the crook of your neck. he practically melts into your touch, the rest of his face covered by the flowers. he’s flustered. “just… five more minutes, then i’m taking you home.” it’s somewhat pleasing to see him so shy.

your mouth spreads out into a wide grin. five more minutes is more than enough. and all shadow can do is sigh, completely and utterly taken by the person you are.

[inazuman]

dec. 14 ✧ day one ✧ preparing your home for winter - itoshi sae x reader fluff, blue lock. note: reader is close with her mother in this, and has some personality.

"Cute." Sae raises a soft toy out of the box of them, squeezing its head in your direction as if it's nodding. You can't help but laugh at his nonchalant face whilst doing something so childish.

The box is full of them, never thrown out since the day you were born. It makes him about what you must've been like as a child. With a room full of stuffed toys, he imagines, from how many he's seeing in the box right now. Did you covet them, similarly to how you do with him now?

"I don't know what my mom was thinking, buying all of these for me." You sigh, sifting through them for a bit before shutting the box back again, a lift of dust catching the light like fireflies.

"She loves and spoils you. Are you sure you wanna throw all this out?" He gestures to the row of boxes lined against the wall.

You sigh again. You've done that a lot throughout this process, something like pain and grief and fatigue all in one.

"My grandmother was a huge hoarder. It might seem strange but… This is the best thing. The thing I've wanted to do for so long."

You take his hands in yours, lacing your fingers together. "Thank you for being here for me through this. The donations… it feels like a good thing."

He's never sure what to do or what to say when you get like this. Your heavy-heartedness, the sentimentality you hold. Sometimes, he can't believe that all you feel fits in your chest.

It must be heavy, he thinks. He loves you. He'll hold it with you.

He pats your head, and the way you beam at him makes everything a little lighter.

"You've provided so much for me, Sae," you wrap your arms around his neck. "You've given me so much. It feels right, to be able to at least give back a little." You stare out at the boxes, a nostalgic look passing over for just a moment. "This'll all go to homes. It's something my mom and I used to do together, give them out. She'd be happy to hear it's finally going to be of good use. I'll call her and let her know."

You've said this before, that he provides for you. Something about having a home, about security, about finally being able to relax. He's not always sure what you mean, just happy to make you happy. What you provide for him, someone to come home to, a love that feels bigger than the world, your innovation and communication and compassion -- That, he knows. He imagines it's something like that. He hopes it is.

"Giving back does sound good," he hums.

"My mother says it's good feng shui, too, you know. To clear out a home before the new year starts."

"New year, new me?" he jests, and you smack him in the chest.

"It sounds weird when you say it!"

twelve days of selfshipmas event

late post to this event! my family's place is indeed being cleaned out rn w everything going to donation ahaha. i hope everyone has the most loveliest christmas!

[mywhisperingwords]

never will be | fred g. weasley

summary: if one more person called fred your boyfriend, you were going to hex them—and then probably yourself for wishing it were true word count: 5.8k masterlist

“Seriously, though,” Angelina said, leaning against the Gryffindor common room sofa with a sly grin, “when are you two finally going to admit it?”

“Admit what?” Fred asked, looking up from the deck of Exploding Snap cards he was shuffling.

“That you’re dating,” George chimed in from across the room, tossing a chocolate frog wrapper into the fire.

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt. “For the hundredth time, we’re not dating.”

“Not yet, at least,” Angelina muttered, smirking at you.

Fred laughed, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “Don’t listen to them. They’re just bored and trying to start drama.”

George snorted. “Says the bloke who can’t go two hours without dragging her off to help with one of his pranks.”

“That’s because she’s got steady hands,” Fred argued, flashing you a grin that made your stomach flip. “Best partner-in-crime I could ask for.”

“Mm-hmm,” George said, exchanging a knowing look with Angelina.

You felt the heat rise in your cheeks but forced a casual laugh. “Exactly. Partners-in-crime. Nothing more.”

Fred’s grin widened, oblivious to the way your voice faltered on the last words.

Later that evening, as you sat in your usual spot in the common room, Fred plopped down beside you, his long legs stretching out in front of him.

George and Angelina had finally left you alone, their laughter about your so-called “relationship” fading into the background.

Fred tossed a bright green bean into the air, catching it in his mouth. “Honestly, they’re relentless. Next thing you know, they’ll be planning our wedding.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “Oh, definitely. George would insist on fireworks during the vows.”

“And Angelina would probably hex the cake to explode in my face,” Fred added, grinning.

“Not that you wouldn’t deserve it,” you teased, nudging him with your shoulder.

Fred gasped dramatically. “Me? Deserve it? Please, I’d be the perfect groom. You, on the other hand…”

You raised an eyebrow. “What about me?”

Fred smirked, leaning back in his chair. “You’d probably spend the entire ceremony arguing with me about the flowers or the seating arrangements.”

“Only because you’d insist on something ridiculous, like having a Quidditch match instead of a reception,” you shot back, laughing.

“See? Proves my point,” Fred said, throwing another bean into his mouth.

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the grin tugging at your lips. The conversation was silly, but it sent a pang through your chest all the same. For a moment, you wondered���what if it weren’t so ridiculous? What if you weren’t just friends?

“Guess it’s a good thing we’d never actually be a couple,” you said lightly, testing the waters.

Fred snorted, not catching the slight hesitation in your voice. “You’ve got that right. Can you imagine? We’d probably kill each other within a week.”

Your smile faltered for a split second, but you quickly recovered, laughing along with him. “True. It would be a disaster.”

“An entertaining one, though,” Fred added, grinning at you.

You laughed again, but the ache in your chest lingered as his words played over in your mind. A disaster.

Fred, oblivious, tossed the box of beans onto the table and stretched his arms over his head. “Anyway, who needs all that relationship nonsense? We’re better off just being us.”

“Right,” you said softly, your smile not quite reaching your eyes. “Just us.”

But as you watched Fred lean back, his expression carefree and content, you made a silent decision.

It was time to stop hoping for something that would never happen. It was time to move on.

A couple days later, Fred dropped into the seat next to you in the common room, his typical big grin directed at you. “Fancy sneaking out to the kitchens? I was thinking a snack, but maybe we could even go for a full-course meal if the house-elves are feeling generous.”

You didn’t look up from your book, keeping your voice steady. “Can’t. I’ve got plans tonight.”

Fred tilted his head, frowning. “Plans? With who?”

“Just plans,” you said vaguely, flipping a page.

Fred narrowed his eyes, studying you for a moment, but you didn’t elaborate. Eventually, he shrugged, leaning back in his chair. “Your loss. More food for me.”

You hummed noncommittally, keeping your gaze fixed on the words in front of you.

Later that evening, Fred was sprawled on the sofa near the fire, George and Lee arguing over a card game beside him. Angelina sauntered in, her hair tied back in a loose ponytail.

“Oi, Ang,” Fred called, waving her over. “What’s she up to tonight?”

Angelina raised an eyebrow. “Who?”

“You know who. She said she had plans.”

Angelina hesitated for half a second before smirking. “She’s got a date.”

Fred blinked, the words not registering immediately. “A date?”

“Yeah,” Angelina said, sitting on the arm of the sofa. “With that bloke from Ravenclaw—what’s his name? Aaron? Aiden?”

“Andrew,” George supplied helpfully, grinning.

“Right. Andrew,” Angelina said, crossing her arms. “Apparently, he’s been asking her out for ages, and she finally said yes.”

Fred frowned, a strange tightness forming in his chest. “Huh.”

George glanced at him, raising an eyebrow. “Something wrong, Fred?”

“No,” Fred said quickly, shaking his head. “Why would there be?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, who raised an amused eyebrow. But neither of them said anything, much to Fred’s relief.

Meanwhile you were trying your best to focus on Andrew as he told you about his latest Quidditch practice. He was charming, handsome, and undeniably kind. Exactly the type of person you should be going out with.

But as much as you tried to stay engaged, your mind kept wandering. His laugh wasn’t quite as infectious. His jokes weren’t quite as sharp. And when he leaned in slightly to brush his hand against yours, your chest didn’t flutter the way you wanted it to.

You forced a smile, reminding yourself why you were here. Andrew had always been good to you, and after Fred’s clear rejection, it was time to stop holding onto something that wasn’t going to happen.

“Are you alright?” Andrew asked, his voice soft as he studied your face.

“Yes,” you said quickly, sitting up straighter. “Sorry, just a bit distracted. It’s been a long week.”

Andrew smiled, his eyes warm. “I get it. I’m glad you said yes, though. I’ve been wanting to do this for a while.”

You felt a pang of guilt but managed another smile. “Me too.”

It wasn’t entirely a lie. Andrew deserved a chance, and you were determined to give it to him.

Still, as the evening wore on, you couldn’t help but wonder what Fred was doing. And no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake the thought that you wished he were sitting across from you instead.

You had done your best to steer clear of Fred over the past few days. You weren’t sure why, if someone dared to ask. Maybe you wanted to avoid telling him about your date or maybe talking to Fred would force you to acknowledge that moving on was harder than you thought.

It wasn’t easy, avoiding Fred, considering he had a knack for showing up everywhere you didn’t want him to be.

And, naturally, today was no exception.

“Oi!” Fred’s voice rang out from behind you as you made your way down the hallway after class. “Wait up!”

You considered pretending not to hear him, but the sound of his footsteps catching up told you there was no escaping this time.

“Hey,” he said, falling into step beside you. His usual grin was in place, though there was a flicker of something unreadable in his eyes. “Haven’t seen much of you lately. Been avoiding me or something?”

You gave a half-hearted laugh. “Don’t be ridiculous. Just… busy.”

Fred raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Busy with what? Or should I say who?”

Your stomach twisted at the question, but you forced yourself to keep your expression neutral. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Angelina mentioned you went on a date,” Fred said, his tone light and teasing, though his eyes flickered with something you couldn’t quite place. “Figured you’d be too busy swooning over this Andrew bloke to hang out with your real friends.”

You rolled your eyes, gripping the strap of your bag a little tighter. “It was just a date, Fred. No swooning involved.”

Fred tilted his head, studying you. “Come on. Spill. What’s he like? Is he as funny as me? Doubt it.”

You hesitated, your heart hammering as you searched his face for any hint of jealousy, any sign that this conversation bothered him. But Fred’s grin was firmly in place, his tone casual and carefree.

“He’s nice,” you said finally, keeping your voice even. “Really nice.”

Fred’s smile faltered for the briefest of moments before returning. “Nice, huh? That’s a glowing review.”

You shrugged, refusing to meet his eyes. “What else do you want me to say?”

“I dunno,” Fred said, scratching the back of his neck. “Maybe that he’s secretly boring or has terrible taste in music. Something I can mock him for.”

You couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you, but it quickly faded as the tension in your chest tightened.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, glancing at you out of the corner of his eye. “Well, if he’s so bloody great, maybe we should invite him to hang out with us sometime.”

Your head snapped toward him, your eyes narrowing. “Are you serious?”

Fred shrugged, his grin turning lopsided. “Why not? He could use a proper Weasley test. See if he can keep up.”

You shook your head, muttering under your breath. “You’re impossible.”

Fred watched you closely, his grin slipping just enough to reveal the confusion beneath it. He didn’t know why the thought of you with Andrew left a sour taste in his mouth, but he was determined to ignore it.

Maybe it was just because he didn’t know the guy. Or because he didn’t want to lose his favorite partner-in-crime to some bloke from Ravenclaw. That had to be it.

Definitely not because he cared more than he should.

&

The common room buzzed with its usual post-dinner chaos. Fred was in his element, loudly challenging George to an Exploding Snap rematch after a questionable loss earlier, when you walked in with Andrew.

Fred’s laughter faltered for half a second, but he quickly covered it up with a grin. “Well, well, look who decided to join us. Ravenclaw royalty.”

“Hi, Fred,” you said, your voice neutral but carrying an edge of warning.

Andrew smiled politely, clearly unfazed. “Hey. I thought I’d take you up on your offer to hang out.”

“Brave of you,” Fred quipped, gesturing to the chaos around him. “We’re not exactly Ravenclaw standards of refined.”

Andrew chuckled. “I can handle it.”

George appeared beside Fred, grinning broadly. “Andrew, right? You’re the Quidditch guy. Chaser, yeah?”

“That’s me,” Andrew said, looking pleasantly surprised.

“Always nice to have another flyer in the group,” George said, clapping him on the back. “Ignore Fred if he gets too annoying.”

“Oi!” Fred protested, but George was already leading Andrew to the sofa, chatting about brooms and game strategies.

You sighed, crossing your arms. “Play nice,” you muttered as you passed Fred, taking a seat near Angelina and Lee.

Fred watched as Andrew settled into the group, answering questions and laughing at everyone’s jokes with ease. His jaw tightened when Angelina leaned over to whisper, “He’s charming, isn’t he?”

“Sure,” Fred said, his voice flat.

An hour later, everyone seemed to be getting along swimmingly—except Fred.

He wasn’t outright rude to Andrew, but his usual teasing had a sharper edge tonight. Every time Andrew spoke, Fred had a quick quip or an exaggerated eye roll.

When Andrew mentioned his house winning the latest match, Fred chimed in with, “Ravenclaw’s strategy, isn’t it? Win the game, lose the fun.”

George elbowed Fred, but Andrew only laughed. “We take Quidditch seriously. Some of us, at least.”

Fred grinned tightly. “Right. Because fun has no place in sports.”

“Okay,” you interjected, cutting through the growing tension. “Who wants snacks? I’ll get some from the kitchens.”

“I’ll help,” Andrew offered, standing up.

You hesitated, glancing briefly at Fred before nodding. “Sure. Let’s go.”

After you and Andrew left the common room, Fred slumped back into his chair, muttering something under his breath.

“What’s your problem?” George asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Problem? I don’t have a problem,” Fred said quickly.

“Sure you don’t,” Angelina said, smirking as she leaned against the armrest. “You’re only acting like a jealous git.”

Fred scoffed. “Jealous? Please. I just think he’s boring.”

George chuckled. “Yeah, he’s awful. Friendly, charming, loves Quidditch—how dare he?”

Fred scowled but didn’t reply, his gaze fixed on the door you’d just walked through.

When you and Andrew returned, the evening had mostly calmed down. Fred kept to himself, though his eyes followed you whenever you weren’t looking.

As the group began to disband for the night, Andrew turned to you, his smile warm and easy. “I had a great time the other night. Do you think you’d want to do it again? Soon?”

Fred’s head snapped up at Andrew’s words, but he quickly looked away, pretending to fidget with his deck of cards.

You hesitated, your gaze flickering to Fred for just a moment. His usual grin was gone, replaced by a furrowed brow and averted eyes. Ignoring him and the little voice in the back of your mind, you turned back to Andrew.

“Sure,” you said with a smile. “I’d like that.”

Andrew’s grin widened. “Great. I’ll find you tomorrow to figure out the details.”

You nodded, and as Andrew left, you glanced back at Fred one last time. He was shuffling his cards with unnecessary force, avoiding your gaze entirely. Weird.

Over the next couple of weeks, your relationship with Andrew began to take shape. Slowly but surely, he worked his way into your life.

He wasn’t overly pushy or demanding, which you appreciated, and he had a way of making you laugh—though not quite as effortlessly as Fred could.

Still, it felt nice to have someone show genuine interest in you, even if the spark you were hoping for wasn’t quite there yet.

Of course, Andrew didn’t just win you over—he charmed everyone.

“Well, he’s bloody polite,” George said one evening after Andrew left the common room. “And he brought snacks. Can’t argue with that.”

Angelina nodded in agreement. “He’s sweet. You picked a good one.”

“Of course she did,” Fred muttered, slumping lower in his chair.

Lee gave Fred a side-eye. “You alright, mate? You’ve been acting off lately.”

“I’m fine,” Fred said quickly, grabbing a deck of cards and shuffling them with unnecessary vigor. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Lee raised an eyebrow but didn’t press further.

The thing was, Fred wasn’t fine.

He didn’t know what it was about Andrew that rubbed him the wrong way. Maybe it was how the bloke always seemed to be around now, sitting beside you in the common room or leaning in too close when you laughed at one of his jokes.

Fred told himself it was just the newness of it all. You’d always been his person—his partner-in-crime, his go-to for pranks, his late-night snack accomplice. And now Andrew was stealing you away.

It was irritating.

But Fred wasn’t jealous. Definitely not.

One afternoon, the group decided to head down to the lake to take advantage of the rare sunny weather.

Andrew and George carried the food, Angelina and Lee brought the blankets, and you walked ahead with Fred, your pace slowing as you chatted.

“So,” Fred said casually, kicking a stone along the path, “how’s Prince Charming?”

You gave him a look. “He has a name, you know.”

“Right. Andy.”

“Andrew,” you corrected, rolling your eyes.

“Same thing,” Fred said with a shrug.

You sighed. “He’s fine. Why do you ask?”

“No reason,” Fred said, though his tone was anything but casual. “Just wondering how long he plans to stick around.”

“Why? You planning to scare him off?” you asked, your voice teasing but laced with curiosity.

Fred grinned, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”

Before you could respond, Andrew called your name from behind, jogging to catch up with you.

Fred fell silent, his jaw tightening as Andrew slipped into step beside you, his hand brushing yours as he walked.

By the time you reached the lake, Fred was thoroughly annoyed.

As everyone settled on the blankets, Andrew took the spot beside you, leaning close to whisper something that made you laugh. Fred sat across from you, stabbing at his sandwich with unnecessary force.

“You alright there, Fred?” Angelina asked, nudging him with her foot.

“Fine,” Fred said tightly, taking an aggressive bite.

George smirked. “You know, for someone who doesn’t care, you’re awfully bothered.”

Fred glared at his twin but said nothing.

As the sun began to set, Andrew offered to walk you back to the castle, and you accepted with a smile. Fred watched the two of you leave, his chest tightening as your laughter faded into the distance.

“Mate,” George said, clapping Fred on the shoulder. “You’ve got it bad.”

Fred scowled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Sure you don’t,” George said with a knowing grin.

If there was one thing Fred Weasley prided himself on, it was his ability to remain unshakable. Cool under pressure. Steady in the face of chaos.

Except, apparently, when Andrew was around.

“I’m just saying,” Fred declared loudly, leaning back in his chair with the kind of dramatic flair that immediately drew everyone’s attention, “no one is that nice. It’s suspicious.”

“Suspicious?” Angelina repeated, raising an eyebrow.

“Absolutely,” Fred said, gesturing wildly as if this were common knowledge. “No one can laugh at every single joke. Even George’s bad ones.”

“Oi!” George protested, though he was grinning. “My jokes are masterpieces.”

Andrew, seated comfortably next to you, chuckled. “I don’t know, George. That one about the Blast-Ended Skrewts last week was a bit of a stretch.”

Fred’s eyes narrowed. “See? Right there. He’s even polite when he’s being critical. Who does that?”

You rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small laugh that escaped you. “Fred, are you really mad because Andrew is nice?”

“I’m not mad!” Fred insisted, though his tone suggested otherwise. “I’m just… observant. He’s too nice. It’s unnatural.”

“Fred,” Lee said, struggling to keep a straight face, “I think you might be allergic to decent human behavior.”

The group erupted in laughter, and for a moment, even you couldn’t hide your amusement. But Fred wasn’t done yet.

“Mark my words,” Fred continued, pointing dramatically at Andrew, “this whole ‘charming and perfect’ act is going to crack one day. And when it does—”

Andrew held up his hands, laughing lightly. “Alright, you’ve got me. I’ll admit it: I burned toast once. Twice, actually. Sometimes I even leave the cap off the toothpaste.”

“Oh, the horror,” Lee said, clutching his chest mockingly. “Fred, are you sure we’re safe in his presence?”

Fred scowled, muttering something under his breath.

You shot him a look, your patience wearing thin. “Fred, if you’re so bothered by something, maybe you should do something about it.”

Fred blinked, caught off guard by the sudden shift in your tone. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

You shrugged, standing to grab a glass of water. “Exactly what it sounds like.”

Fred watched you leave the room, the weight of your words settling uncomfortably in his chest.

“What’s her problem?” he muttered, glancing at the others.

Angelina snorted. “You’re joking, right?”

Fred frowned. “What?”

George exchanged a look with Lee, barely containing his laughter. “Oh, nothing,” George said, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I’m sure it has nothing to do with you acting like a jealous prat every time Andrew breathes in her direction.”

“I’m not jealous!” Fred shot back, his voice a little too loud.

“Sure you’re not,” Lee said, patting him on the shoulder.

Angelina leaned forward, her smirk practically glowing. “Fred, has it ever occurred to you that you’re not mad at Andrew? You’re mad because he’s with her, and you’re not.”

Fred opened his mouth to argue, but no words came out. He shut it again, glaring at the lot of them as they burst into laughter.

“Honestly,” George said, shaking his head. “I’ve seen Blast-Ended Skrewts with more self-awareness.”

Fred groaned, burying his face in his hands. “You’re all useless,” he muttered.

“Hey, we’re just here to point out the obvious,” Lee said with a grin. “The rest is up to you, lover boy.”

&

The Three Broomsticks was warm and bustling with chatter, the kind of lively atmosphere that could distract anyone from their troubles.

Fred leaned back in his chair, nursing a mug of butterbeer, and let the noise wash over him.

It had been weeks since he’d felt this at ease. For once, he wasn’t thinking about Andrew or the way he seemed to occupy every spare moment of your time.

Because, for the first time in a long while, it was just the group—George, Lee, Angelina, you, and him—laughing, joking, and bickering like always. And with you sitting across from him, grinning over the rim of your butterbeer as you teased George about his latest failed prank, Fred felt… content.

Comfortable. Like everything was back to normal.

But then the door to the pub opened, letting in a gust of cold air and a familiar figure.

Fred’s stomach twisted the moment he saw Andrew.

“Hey, everyone,” Andrew said, his smile easy and confident as he approached the table.

Fred tried to focus on his drink, on George cracking a joke, on literally anything else—but then Andrew leaned down, his hand brushing your shoulder, and kissed you.

It wasn’t long, just a brief, casual kiss on the lips, but it might as well have been a Bludger to Fred’s chest.

The laughter at the table carried on, the others welcoming Andrew like they always did, but Fred barely heard a word. His mind was spinning, his heart racing, and for the first time, he couldn’t keep up the denial.

It wasn’t just irritation. It wasn’t just protectiveness.

It was jealousy.

Pure, undeniable jealousy.

And it wasn’t just because Andrew had you—it was because Fred wanted you.

The realization hit him like a brick wall. Every time you laughed at Andrew’s jokes, every time you brushed his hand with yours, every time you smiled at him with that soft, affectionate look in your eyes—it burned.

Because Fred wanted to be the one making you laugh, holding your hand, earning your smiles.

But it wasn’t him. And now, sitting here, watching Andrew slide into the seat beside you, his arm draped casually over the back of your chair, Fred finally understood why it hurt so much.

&

Fred paced the length of the Gryffindor common room like a man possessed, his hands raking through his hair as George, Angelina, and Lee lounged on the sofa, watching with varying degrees of amusement.

“She kissed him,” Fred muttered for the fiftieth time, his voice tinged with both disbelief and frustration.

“Yes, Fred,” Angelina said patiently, not bothering to hide her smirk. “We were all there. You don’t need to recap.”

“But—” Fred turned on his heel, his expression wild. “How did I not see it before? How did none of you tell me?”

George snorted. “Mate, we’ve been dropping hints for years. You’re just thick.”

“Excuse me?” Fred stopped pacing long enough to glare at his twin.

Lee chimed in, grinning. “He’s right, you know. It’s been painfully obvious to everyone but you. Honestly, we were starting to think you’d never figure it out.”

Fred groaned, collapsing into a chair and burying his face in his hands. “What am I supposed to do now? She’s happy with Andrew. I can’t just…” He trailed off, shaking his head.

“You could do nothing,” Angelina suggested, crossing her arms. “Let her be happy. Maybe keep your mouth shut for once in your life.”

Fred glared at her. “Thanks for the support, Ang. Really helpful.”

“I’m just saying,” Angelina continued, shrugging. “If you care about her, maybe you don’t ruin things for her. It’s not about you, Fred.”

George tilted his head. “Or—and hear me out—you could tell her how you feel and let her decide.”

Lee grinned. “Or—and this is my favorite option—you stage an elaborate prank to scare off Andrew, then swoop in as the knight in shining armor.”

Fred groaned again, throwing his head back against the chair. “You’re all useless.”

“Hey, I’m giving you options,” Lee said defensively.

“Yeah,” George added. “And Angelina’s just saying what she’d do if she were you. Personally, I think you should grow a pair and tell her the truth.”

Fred shot him a look. “It’s not that simple.”

“It never is,” Angelina said, her tone softer now. “But you’ve got to figure it out, Fred. Otherwise, you’re just going to keep driving yourself—and the rest of us—mad.”

The sound of the portrait hole opening drew their attention, and there you were, stepping inside with your bag slung over one shoulder and a slight frown on your face.

Fred’s heart skipped a beat, and he immediately sat up straighter, trying to look normal—which, of course, only made him look even more suspicious.

“Everything okay?” you asked, glancing between the group and Fred’s suspiciously guilty expression.

“Fine!” Fred said quickly, his voice a little too loud.

You raised an eyebrow but didn’t push, instead walking over to your usual spot by the fire. You dropped your bag on the floor and pulled out a stack of parchment, rifling through it with a small, frustrated sigh.

Fred couldn’t take his eyes off you. It wasn’t anything special—just you being you—but the way your hair caught the firelight, the tiny furrow in your brow as you concentrated, the way you bit your lip when something didn’t go right…

In that moment, Fred knew.

Knew that no one else would ever make him feel the way you did. Knew that no one else would ever measure up to you. Knew that he couldn’t keep this to himself anymore.

Now he just had to figure out how to tell you.

“Merlin, he’s gone,” George muttered, nudging Angelina. “Look at him.”

Fred ignored them, his mind racing as he tried to think of something—anything—to say. But for once in his life, words failed him.

Fred had never been one to overthink things. Usually, he went with his gut, said whatever was on his mind, and dealt with the consequences later. But when it came to you, every plan he came up with seemed doomed from the start.

The first time he tried, it was on the way to Charms. He’d spotted you walking ahead, your bag slung over one shoulder and your hair bouncing as you moved. His heart did that stupid thing where it sped up, and before he could stop himself, he called your name.

“Hey,” you said, slowing to let him catch up.

“Hey,” he replied, suddenly feeling like his tongue had turned to lead.

You smiled at him, that warm, easy smile that made his chest ache. “What’s up?”

Fred opened his mouth to speak, but before he could say anything, Andrew appeared from the other direction.

“There you are,” Andrew said, grinning as he slipped an arm around your waist.

Fred’s jaw clenched, but he forced a smile. “Right. See you in class,” he mumbled, walking off before either of you could reply.

The second attempt came during a group study session in the library.

Fred had been unusually quiet, his eyes darting to you every few seconds. You were sitting across from him, absently twirling your quill as you read over your notes.

“Hey,” he said suddenly, leaning forward.

You looked up, tilting your head. “Yeah?”

“I—”

“Shh!” Madam Pince hissed from across the room, glaring at Fred like he’d just set one of her precious books on fire.

Fred sighed, leaning back in his chair as George smirked beside him. “Smooth,” George muttered under his breath.

The third time wasn’t even his fault.

He’d waited until you were alone in the common room, curled up in your usual chair by the fire. It was late, and most of the others had gone to bed, leaving the room quiet and cozy.

Fred took a deep breath, running a hand through his hair as he approached. “Hey, can we talk?”

You looked up at him, your expression soft but curious. “Sure. What’s on your mind?”

Fred hesitated, the words hanging on the tip of his tongue. This was it. He just had to say it.

But before he could, Lee burst into the room, laughing loudly about something George had apparently done. The noise startled both of you, and whatever fragile moment had been building between you vanished in an instant.

Fred sighed, watching as you smiled politely at Lee’s antics before heading upstairs to your dorm.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off.

Andrew was as kind and attentive as ever, but your heart wasn’t fully in it. You caught yourself zoning out during conversations, your mind drifting to memories of late-night laughs and pranks with Fred.

Andrew noticed.

“You’ve been a bit distant lately,” he said one evening as you sat together by the lake. His tone was calm but serious, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m sorry,” you said quickly, though you weren’t sure what you were apologizing for.

Andrew smiled faintly, shaking his head. “We should talk. Really talk.”

You nodded, your stomach twisting with unease and the underlying feeling of already knowing what was about to come.

&

The rain fell steadily, soaking through your cloak and chilling you to the bone, but you didn’t care. After your conversation with Andrew, you’d needed space to think, to feel, to breathe.

That was why you stayed in the same spot he left you in, even when it began to pour.

But tonight, the storm wasn’t just inside.

The sound of footsteps on the dock pulled you from your thoughts, and you turned to see Fred, his red hair plastered to his forehead and water dripping from his clothes.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, your voice carrying over the rain.

Fred shoved his hands into his pockets, looking equal parts frustrated and relieved. “I could ask you the same thing.”

You shrugged, turning your gaze back to the water. “Needed to think.”

Fred hesitated, then stepped closer, the wood creaking under his weight. “And you couldn’t think inside? Where it’s dry?”

You huffed a laugh, though there wasn’t much humor in it. “Guess not.”

An awkward silence stretched between you as the rain continued to fall. Fred shifted on his feet, clearly trying to work up the courage to say something.

He hadn’t planned this, hadn’t thought through what he wanted to say.

“You’re really something, you know that?” he blurted finally, the words spilling out before he could stop them. “You’re out here in the rain, and I’m the idiot who followed you, and… Merlin, I don’t even know where to start.”

You raised an eyebrow, your expression guarded. “Then don’t.”

Fred shook his head. “No, I have to. Because—because you drive me mad. You’re all I can think about, and it’s infuriating because I don’t even know when it started, but it’s just… there. All the time.”

You blinked, caught off guard by the raw honesty in his voice.

“You know, Andrew is… perfect, really. Kind, understanding. Says all the right things. And he’s right. He’s everything I should want.”

Fred’s jaw tightened, but he kept his voice steady. “If he’s so perfect, then why are you out here? With me?”

The words hit like a punch to the gut, and you blinked, suddenly unable to meet his gaze.

“Why, if Andrew’s so perfect, are you standing out here in the rain with me instead of him?” Fred pressed, his voice soft but insistent.

Your chest ached, and before you could stop yourself, the truth spilled out. “Because he’s not you, Fred! He never was.”

Fred stared at you, his breath hitching as your words sank in.

You laughed bitterly, swiping at your wet face. “Andrew is kind and caring and everything I should want. But it doesn’t matter, because he’s not you. And that’s why we ended things. He knows he’s not the one I want to be with.”

Fred didn’t move for a moment, as though your words had stunned him. His wide eyes searched yours, raindrops slipping down his face, mingling with the uncertainty you saw flicker there.

But then, something shifted. Determination sparked in his gaze, and in one swift motion, he stepped forward, closing the distance between you. His hands, rough yet gentle, cupped your face, his thumbs brushing against your rain-damp cheeks.

The kiss came like a thunderclap—fierce, overwhelming, impossible to ignore. His lips claimed yours with a desperation that stole the breath from your lungs, as though this was the only way he could make you understand everything he couldn’t say.

The rain blurred everything around you—the trees, the lake, the world itself—but Fred’s warmth anchored you. His hands trembled slightly against your skin, betraying the vulnerability beneath his boldness.

A soft gasp escaped you as your fingers curled into the fabric of his soaked shirt, pulling him closer instinctively. The rain had drenched you both, but Fred’s heat seeped through the layers, making you feel like nothing else mattered.

His lips moved against yours, earnest and unrelenting, as though he feared you might slip away if he didn’t hold on tightly enough. And yet, there was no demand in his kiss, only a raw, aching need that left you dizzy.

When you finally broke apart, gasping for air, Fred rested his forehead against yours, his breath ragged. His hands stayed on your face, as if letting go would break the fragile moment between you.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, his voice hoarse but firm, his thumb brushing away the rain—or was it a tear?—from your cheek. “Forgive me?”

The rain continued to fall, cold and relentless, but it didn’t matter. Fred’s eyes searched yours, unguarded and full of something that made your chest ache.

“Always,” you whispered, your voice trembling but resolute.

Fred’s lips curved into the faintest smile before he kissed you again, softer this time but no less consuming.

From a distance, George and Lee watched from the cover of a nearby tree, Angelina holding an umbrella over them with a triumphant smirk.

“Told you,” George said smugly.

“Yeah, yeah,” Lee muttered, crossing his arms, but not before handing George the bag. “I still say it’s weird to bet on your brother’s love life.”

“Not when it’s this predictable,” Angelina chimed in, snatching a Galleon from the bag. “You’re welcome, by the way. I made this happen.”

“You did nothing,” George said, rolling his eyes. “They’re just idiots. Idiots in love.”

[paceprompting]

the gingerbread incident

written for ‘dessert’ and ‘baking’ | wc: 993 # | steddie | rated: t | cw: no archive warnings apply | tags: post season 4, established relationship, cute fluff, eddie's chaos baking

@steddieholidaydrabbles & @steddiemas

Eddie was a disaster. He knew this.

His brain fired on all cylinders constantly and his mouth was hardly able to keep up, the residual energy coming out in gesturing with everything that he said. He bumped into everything, even in the trailer where he’d lived most of his life.

And, even with the best intentions, most areas he spent an extended amount of time in were usually left in chaos.

Especially with flour involved.

It’s not his fault he was left alone in Steve’s kitchen. There was supposed to be at least two gremlin children in there with him—he was only supposed to be supervising since it was their bake sale they were making gingerbread what-ever-the-hells for.

But the kids were still rough and tumbling outside in the first snow of the season, annihilating the older not-so-kids-anymore in a snowball fight.

Steve had already picked out a recipe from Joyce’s and Claudia’s cookbooks, opened and ready on the counter. He’d presumably bought anything he didn’t have, because gingerbread was apparently slightly more complex than Eddie would have expected.

So, Eddie took his best shot.

And now, everything was…everywhere.

But there was something that resembled dough, as far as Eddie could tell, in the mixer. It smelled like ginger, or maybe that was the molasses (and who knew there was fucking molasses in gingerbread). And there was supposed to be flour on the counter anyway when he “rolled the dough out,” so really he’s just ahead of the game.

Take that, Directions.

Eddie clapped his hands together, and a cloud of flour into the air, readying to lift his doughy child from the bowl with both hands.

“Holy shit.”

Steve had stopped just short of coming into the kitchen, his discarded gloves held in one hand. His nose and cheeks were still pink from being outside in the cold, but the warmth of his brown eyes were fixed directly on Eddie, standing half-covered in flour in the middle of his kitchen.

“Hey, Stevie,” Eddie said pleasantly, standing up straight. He brushed a stray one of his curls away from his face, definitely getting flour where his fingers grazed his cheek and temple. “I, uh, decided to make the kids’ gingerbread.”

“And there was enough flour left over after you dumped it on the floor?” Steve said, tentatively stepping onto the tile floor, leaving bootprints in places where, sure, there was a considerable amount of flour where Eddie had knocked a full measuring cup off the counter with his hand.

But that would have happened to anyone.

“I was left unsupervised,” he defended. “While you were all gallivanting outside.”

Steve had the decency to look somewhat chastized, as he set his gloves on a miraculously saved counter near the fridge and joined Eddie on his side of chaos.

“Sorry we left you alone, babe,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to Eddie’s cheek. He wiped flour off his lips, eyeing the dough in the mixer. “Can I try?”

“I suppose an integral part of the baking process is taste testing as you go.” Eddie gestured to his masterpiece. “Knock yourself out.”

Steve chuckled, stepping close into Eddie’s space to reach past him into the silver mixing bowl. He pinched off some of the raw dough between two fingers and his thumb, raising his brows as he popped it into his mouth.

“Yeah,” Steve said, poorly holding back a puckered expression as he forced down the piece of Eddie’s dough. “You need to start over. Immediately.”

Eddie’s mouth dropped open. “But I followed the recipe! I read it three times.”

Steve sucked on his teeth, trying to work whatever the taste was of Eddie’s cookie dough out of his mouth. “My best guess, you switched something with salt.”

“What are you talking about?”

Steve pointed his chin toward the mixing bowl, an unspoken, See for yourself.

And Eddie did. Just to prove Steve’ tastebuds, as much as he adored the rest of the man, irrevocably broken, Eddie tore off an even larger piece of his dough. And, purposefully holding Steve’s eyeline, put the dough into his mouth.

And…oh boy.

Barely two chews into it, the main flavor Eddie was getting was indeed what some people might call…salty.

“You might have a point,” he said, words muffled.

He couldn’t bring himself to swallow. He had to turn sharply toward the trash can and spit out the horrible, horrible crime against baking that he had created.

Good fucking Lord, what had he done?

He went next to the sink, sinking his head under the running faucet to wash the rest of the taste out of his mouth. He heard the thump of the rest of the dough following its comrade into the trash, courtesy of Steve.

Satisfied enough that he’d gotten the salt taste out, Eddie shut off the water and turned to face Steve, holding a hand over his mouth as though he could actually hide his smile at his own boyfriend’s suffering.

He should have just waited. Then he could have laughed at Henderson for inevitably making the same, or an even worse, mistake than Eddie had.

Eddie sighed.

“Will you help me with the second batch? So I don’t poison all the kids?” he asked, glancing mournfully at the mess that was going to get a whole lot worse now that Eddie had to start all over.

“Tell you what,” Steve said, opening a nearby drawer and pulling out a blue plaid apron. Eddie watched with widened eyes as he tied it on—looking way too fantasy-like for how many people were around to walk in on them. Steve bumped him out of it with his hip. “You can be my handsome helper. I’ll tell you exactly what I need, and all you have to do is hand it to me. Sound good?”

A front-row seat to Steve Harrington baking in an too-sexy apron? And he wasn’t in charge of the end result?

Sign. Him. Up.

[transgender-mothman]

If you read my response, you’ll see I have played and run other systems. I have a large collection of ttrpgs, and have played quite a few. Many of them are small or indie, and I also have friends who are indie game designers (shout out to @strangeharpy !). I think my actual second longest campaign was a powered by the apocalypse one, and I have designed a d6 magical girl game system from scratch because I couldn’t find what I wanted in a pre-existing system. And it worked great and was very fun, if difficult, to do! I am a staunch supporter of indie games.

Now. That said. My current group does double back to 5e. That is very true. I’ve been playing 5e off and on for a long time, but I wouldn’t go so far as to say we are necessarily constantly “supporting a monopoly” in that … we already own the books, either physically or digital copies, and there’s no buying of every single thing wotc releases. We don’t use d&d beyond. We don’t run modules or whatever it is that wotc calls the prefab campaigns these days. I haven’t bought a new 5e book in YEARS, because there’s no need to and tbh I don’t care to give WotC more money particularly with the direction they’ve been going. My group play very home brew, very tweaked, very RP heavy games using the 5e system as a base, and it works for us. And that’s our prerogative and that’s totally fine to do! My initial statement stands—- play whatever, however, and with whoever is best for the experience YOU want to have.

As for why we go back to 5e, just because there are things we drop or leave out, doesn’t mean there aren’t aspects of it we love. The races, classes, feats, spells, and combat system work for us and you can really have such a different experience from campaign to campaign by mixing up what you play and how, and there are tons of (free) resources by players for players online to assist or add to your game. There’s a ton of actual play content, which is accessible and fun to engage with, that gets newbies a solid idea on how a ttrpg flows or works, and this is such a help for people who are apprehensive about starting. And for older players who have started with previous editions, there’s at least some commonality between versions (I started playing 3.5 myself). Not everyone who plays or continues to play 5e is actively harming the indie community by using resources they already have or games they are comfortable/familiar with.

I very much believe everyone should try other games if they’re able. There’s such a wealth of cool, unique games out by smaller companies and indie developers. But I do understand why 5e has a lot of pull to it— yes, it’s THE mainstream system, which unfortunately comes with all the other trappings of capitalism. But the game isn’t bad in and of itself and I don’t believe playing it, any way you want to, is a moral or ethical failing.

5e is a gateway game now more than ever. I am a very nerdy horror film guy, but I didn’t start with indie arthouse movies… like most people, I started with major Hollywood franchises, because of mass accessibility. Everyone starts somewhere! And not everyone will branch out from mainstream d&d to games that are more off the beaten track, same as not all horror fans will go from the Saw franchise to weird experimental horror that no one outside of Letterboxd has ever heard of. But you know what? Some will. And that’s great.

I think an important part of the "D&D is easy to learn" argument is that a lot of those people don't actually know how to play D&D. They know they need to roll a d20 and add some numbers and sometimes they need to roll another type of die for damage. A part of it is the culture of basically fucking around and letting the GM sort it out. Players don't actually feel the need to learn the rules.

Now I don't think the above actually counts as knowing the rules. D&D is a relatively crunchy game that actually rewards system mastery and actually learning how to play D&D well, as in to make mechanically informed tactical decisions and utilizing the mechanics to your advantage, is actually a skill that needs to be learned and cultivated. None of that is to say that you need to be a perfectly tuned CharOp machine to know how to play D&D. But to actually start to make the sorts of decisions D&D as a game rewards you kind of need to know the rules.

And like, a lot of people don't seem to know the rules. They know how to play D&D in the most abstract sense of knowing that they need to say things and sometimes the person scowling at them from behind the screen will ask them to roll a die. But that's hardly engaging with the mechanics of the game, like the actual game part.

And to paraphrase @prokopetz this also contributes to the impression that other games are hard to learn: because a lot of other games don't have the same culture of play of D&D so like instead of letting new players coast by with a shallow understanding of the rules and letting the GM do all the work, they ask players to start making mechanically informed decisions right away. Sure, it can suck for onboarding, but learning from your mistakes can often be a great way to learn.

[thisapplepielife]

Written for @steddieholidaydrabbles.

Gossip Is Currency

Prompt Day 21: Formal | Word Count: 1000 | Rating: T | CW: Language, Canon Background Stancy | Tags: Missing Scene from S2's The Pollywog, Post-Halloween "Bullshit" Scene, Pre-Steddie, Platonic Hellcheer, School Sucks, Eddie Knows

This is cruel and unusual punishment. 

Eddie sits on the stupid folding chair, behind the stupid folding table, with a stack of tickets to sell to the winter formal. It was this or another suspension, and it was only because he was sure Wayne would not appreciate not having to talk to the principal again anytime soon, that Eddie chose this option.

They've got bubbly cheerleader Chrissy Cunningham sitting next to him controlling the money box that they definitely didn't trust him to be anywhere near, as they try to sell tickets to the kids still roaming around during extracurriculars.

Chrissy hasn't said anything to him after greeting him, and he hasn't said anything in return. They hung out once before, during a middle school talent show, but he doesn't expect that she remembers that.

Another shitty jock walks up.

"Two?" Chrissy asks.

"Yeah," the kid answers, and she takes the money, makes the change, and all Eddie has to do is hand over the two ticket stubs.

He resents it. 

It's stupid, it's–

"It's bullshit," he hears from down the hall.

Yeah, it's exactly that.

And hell's frozen over, if he agrees with King Steve.

Harrington's in some sort of heated debate with Wheeler as they stomp down the hallway, bickering back and forth. She's a fucking firebrand, that one. Everyone thinks she's a priss, but oh no, Eddie's studied this whole school long enough to know that's not even remotely true.

Harrington's gonna get knocked down a peg or two under her, and deservedly so.

Seeing them coming in his direction is at least interesting. Eddie tears off the two tickets and hands them over to Tweedle Dumb, and keeps watching the free show heading his way.

"Winter formal tickets?" Chrissy asks Harrington, and Jesus H. Christ, does she have no observation skills? Now is not the time. This is the time to blend into the wall so they can get the dirty fucking details on this fight. Gossip is currency.

Harrington turns to look at them, and shakes his head no. He looks more sad than mad, and that isn't near as fun. 

"Steve," Wheeler says, and she looks annoyed.

Harrington runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the ends, and then they're gone. 

Well, that was uneventful in the end. He didn't learn anything worth repeating.

Eddie had heard rumors of a Halloween night blow-up, but wasn't there to see it with his own eyes. Apparently they're still in a tiff today.

He can still hear the echo of them around the corner and down the hall, and well, he's nosey. It pays to know everything that's going on in this school.

"Be right back," Eddie says, and follows them down the hall, with the excuse that he's heading to the pop machine.

He digs four quarters out of his pocket, and pretends it's hard to make a decision, before hitting the Mellow Yellow button. The machine whirrs to life, and the can drops down. He feeds the other two quarters in, still trying to listen to Harrington and Wheeler fussing by the double-doors.

Eddie can't really decipher much besides hissing mumbles. Damn.

He presses another button without even really paying attention.

Welch's Grape Soda.

He might actually pick that over the Mellow Yellow he thought he originally wanted.

Harrington and Wheeler leave, so Eddie takes both cans back towards the table, holding them up, an offer, "You want?"

Chrissy smiles, "Really?"

Eddie nods, "You choose," he says, and she falters, just a bit, looking up at him like there might be a wrong answer.

There's no wrong answer here. No trick. He puts them both down on the table, "Totally fine either way."

She reaches for the grape, and is still looking his way. He nods, "Excellent choice," as he picks up the Mellow Yellow, and cracks open the can.

"Thanks, Eddie," she says, like he's given her something more than a can of pop. Carver's a bigger dick than he'd realized, apparently. 

They sit in silence, waiting for more kids to finish up with their stupid clubs and practices. 

The door clangs closed on the other end of the school, and they wait. It's Harrington again. He crosses the hall intersection in his little shorts, and Eddie can see that he's pinching his nose as he darts out of their line of sight as quickly as he entered.

Then it's just them, alone in the hallway again.

"She called him bullshit," Chrissy whispers.

Eddie turns and looks at her, waiting for her to elaborate.

She does.

"On Halloween. At Tina's party. She called him and his love bullshit. I heard it myself, waiting for the bathroom. She was drunk, not making sense about Barb Holland. It was pretty mean."

"No shit?" he asks, leaning closer. 

She nods, giving him a rundown of the whole party. She's got all the good gossip, not just about Harrington and Wheeler's dust up. Eddie feels a twinge of something. 

He's well acquainted with being shit on publicly.

Nobody's around this school, and Eddie gets up to go take a piss. He can't sit still. Hates it. And doing it for this is a special version of hell.

He walks down the hall, to the bathroom. He stands in front of the urinal, unzips and is pissing when he hears the stifled cough from behind him.

Eddie turns to look and sees familiar shoes under the stall door.

Tucking himself back in, re-zipping, he reaches over and flushes the urinal.

"Harrington," Eddie says. 

He waits and there's no response. 

"Harrington," he tries again.

"Go away, Munson," Harrington says, and then mumbles under his breath, "It's bullshit. I'm bullshit."

Eddie takes three steps towards the door, then impulsively turns back.

"She's wrong, you know? You're not bullshit."

And then Eddie waits a beat before adding, "You're just an asshole."

Steve chuckles, and Eddie smiles to himself as he turns and heads out the door.

Timing is everything. 

Mission accomplished.

If you want to write your own, or see more entries for this challenge, pop on over to @steddieholidaydrabbles and follow along with the fun!

[chrissturnsfav]

ᶻ 𝗓 𐰁 loser!matt takes fuckgirl!reader shopping

you’re in the passenger seat of matt’s ancient car, legs crossed, skirt riding up just enough to make his jaw clench if he’d actually bother looking.

the interior smells faintly of his stupid energy drinks and the air freshener he probably got free with a gas station fill-up. he’s got one hand on the wheel and the other on the gearshift, his eyes locked on the road like he’s driving a ferrari instead of this shitty car.

"you know you don’t have to act like this is a fucking chore," you say, side-eyeing him. "i’m letting you come shopping with me. and that’s a privilege, matt."

he snorts, glancing at you for a brief second before focusing back on the road. "right. every guy’s dream—holding bags while you try on clothes you don’t need."

you roll your eyes, leaning closer so your perfume wafts in his direction. "maybe if you weren’t so... boring, i'd model for you. but you’re too busy being rude to appreciate the opportunity."

his lips twitch, almost a smirk, but he catches himself. "don’t let my nonchalantness stop you. go wild."

you stare at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. "you are the worst," you mumble in irritation, crossing your arms as you slump in the worn leather seat. you don't speak another word until you both arrive at the mall.

the mall is busy, the kind of crowd that makes your feet click a little faster, but matt’s dragging behind like he’s got nowhere to be. his hands are shoved in his hoodie pocket, his shoulders slouched, and that stupid indifferent look plastered on his face as if this is the last place he wants to be.

which, knowing matt, it probably is.

"you could at least pretend like you’re having fun," you say, glancing over your shoulder at him with a bratty look on your face.

he raises an eyebrow. "we’ve been to, what, three stores already? how many more before you find whatever the fuck it is you’re looking for?"

you groan, grabbing his arm and pulling him toward the next store. "come on, maybe if i find something cute, you’ll stop being such a negative nelly."

inside the girly store you had picked, you weave through racks of dresses and tops, holding up options and shooting matt looks when he barely reacts. he’s leaning against a display table now, scrolling on his phone like he’s clocked out of this whole ordeal.

"matt," you say sharply, holding up a pretty red dress that’s just short enough to make an impression. "what about this?"

he glances up briefly. "looks fine," he shrugs.

you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. "do you have anything to fucking say besides ‘looks fine’? like, at all?" you groan, mocking his nonchalant voice.

he smirks, shoving his phone into his pocket. "kid, what do you want me to say? ‘oh wow, that’s the most incredible dress i’ve ever seen in my life'?"

"yes," you snap, dragging the dress to the fitting rooms. "that’s exactly what i want you to say."

you try it on in a fitting room, smoothing it over your hips before stepping out to show him. he’s still by the table, but when you clear your throat, his head jerks up. his eyes widen just a fraction, a flicker of something passing over his face before he schools it back to that infuriatingly neutral expression.

"well?" you say, hands on your hips.

his eyes flick up and down, taking you in, before he clears his throat. "yeah. that’s… that’s good."

you smirk, walking up to him and leaning close. "good? just good?"

he shifts uncomfortably, his cheeks flushing just enough to make you grin. "you know what you’re doing," he mutters.

"and you’re just realizing that now?" you lean back, triumphant, and sassy as you walk back to the fitting room, leaving him flustered and exactly where you want him.

𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗵𝗼𝗿'𝘀 𝗻𝗼𝘁𝗲: his nonchalantness makes me giggle

tags: @sturnobsessedwh0re , @idrk2292 , @mattsbrat , @ribbonlovergirl , @swagalicious260 , @sturnhyyhblog , @matthewsroses , @mattsdemi , @emely9274 , @frankoceanfanpage

thank you for reading!! <3

@chrissturnsfav ™

[asksassyjackfrost]

Pitch walked through. The whole place had the look of some odd artistic painting. Pathways seeming to go in every direction. Even upside-down

"You really do have nightlights soul. You are Glowing like one" he moved his hand to have shadow make a cape with a hood

"Tho as much as I love it, cant be attracting to many of the things that feed on similar light... at least until we reach the center"

💍 (Cuz it be funny xD)

Send me ‘💍’ for our muses to wake up married after a night of heavy drinking

Jack opened his eyes slowly. Ugh.. His head felt like it was about to burst, his stomach felt sore and his mouth was as dry as could be.

The boy curled up and groaned slightly to himself, he could not remember a thing.. All he knew was that this was the last time he would challange north to a shot competition.

Something didn't feel right tho, he could feel there was someone else in the bed... Hold on? Whos bed was this? He rolled over, staring into an unfamiliar face. The white haired boy sat up quickly, only to fall out of bed, noticing that he was naked, instead of one thing, a ring on his left hand.