#but I always feel like I’m bragging or forcing it into a conversation

[laurel-michaela-connor]

Coming into my power in 2024 by adding PhD to my signature line

[neopuppy]

I don't know if your hard hours are still open but the pic you posted for it is def giving like emo hot skater boy massive c!ck energy and idk maybe like a kinda cocky reader who doesn't believe skater boy jeno is hung and he has to show the reader (who might be acting like a brat) what they're missing 🫣 could be interesting I don’t know

warnings. unprotected public penetration, dubcon, Jaemin’s here for a show—and to film

————————————————

“He thinks he’s so cool.”

“That’s ‘cause he is.” Your friend drawls on dreamily, chin perched between her knees where you sit together along the skate bowl. “He’s in a band, he has tattoos, and he has a huge cock.”

With a loud sarcastic scoff you roll your eyes dramatically, piping up to talk down to her. “Oh yeah? Because you’ve seen it firsthand?!”

“No,” she says annoyed. “Not yet, but everyone knows Jeno’s packing! He talks about it all the time!”

“Exactly.” You bark, poking at her arm. “He talks about it all of the time, but that’s it. He’s nothing but talk, and if a guy really had all that going on, he wouldn’t need to brag like that loser does.”

“That’s not true, he has like— a reputation!” She fusses, sitting up to hang her legs along the inside of the pool. “Girls always gossip about how he leaves them feeling stretched for days. You’re just a hater.”

“He’s full of shit.” You continue to accuse, glaring at Jeno across the way flexing his arms and showing off his now completed sleeve with a cocky grin that’s growing larger by the second. “He’s so annoying, tiny dick bitch.”

“What’d you just say?!?”

Shit. Jaemin.

“Huh?” Playing dumb, you shoo him off, swiping your phone open to quickly change the topic.

Jaemin snatches the device from your grip, holding it over the bowl with threat to drop it to the concrete from a high point. “Hey! What the hell!” You shoot up, jumping to smack his arm and reach for your phone. “You asshole!”

“Who is a tiny dick bitch?” He grins, playfully pushing you away with a palm against your chest. “Hey Jeno!” He whistles, breaking apart the conversation his best friends’ been entertaining for the last 40 minutes.

“What?! Can’t you see that I’m busy!”

“You need to hear this!” Jaemin calls out, motioning for him to come close. Jeno grunts loudly, holding up a finger toward the swarm of girls drooling around him.

“One sec.” He trudges over annoyed, finally glancing at you, fast enough to miss before he shoots a glare at Jaemin. “What the fuck? I was about to leave and fuck—“

“With your tiny dick?” Jaemin laughs, winking at you. “Can you believe this brat’s going around telling everyone you got a little baby cock?”

“What?!?” Jeno’s face instantly hardens, flushing red up to his ears with anger before averting his attention to you. “What the fuck are you on about?!”

Jaemin clears his throat, pocketing your phone to grab his and pull open a video he just finished recording behind your back, proving everything you’d just said.

“Oh, I’m all talk?!” Jeno stalk’s forward, forcing your legs to move back and flicker your gaze away quickly for a fast escape. “Tiny dick bitch?!”

“Yeah! Shriveled up little pinky dick!” You shriek, breaking off into a run with Jeno and Jaemin fast to chase after you.

“Shitshitshit!” The only advantage you have is lack of weight on your back, having left your bag back at the skatepark hoping that your friend will have the decency to pick it up for you.

A bus pulls up just in time to jump on through the open back doors, hunched over too short of breath to notice Jeno and Jaemin pushing through the crowd from the front to find you hidden in the back corner. “God damnit.”

Jaemin’s tongue clicks, drawing your phone out between two fingers. “You don’t want this back?” He pouts, blinking tauntingly as Jeno rounds behind your back and presses up too close, leaving you with no choice but to be stuck sandwiched between them. “Damn you don’t even have a passcode on this.”

His eyes turn bright, unlocking your phone, working fast to open your photos and scroll through. “What the fuck.” He snorts, turning the screen toward Jeno. “Look at this shit, a whole album dedicated to you.”

“Jaemin, no!” You squeak, bubbling with embarrassment as Jeno reaches past you, slinking his other arm around your waist to keep you in place before he scrolls through the hundreds of screenshots from his socials.

“Aw, you’re really just mad you haven’t gotten to take my cock, huh?” Jeno leans in to whisper, chuckling against your ear. “You know it’s big.”

“You’re full of shit.” You snap, glaring from the corner of your eye at his flawless profile and sharp gaze scanning your face full of intrigue.

“Wanna find out for yourself?” The palm laid flat on your stomach strays to snatch your wrist and pull your arm behind your back, jerked forward as you resist only to collide with Jaemin’s broad chest. He smirks, wiggling eyebrows at you and opening up your phone’s camera, panning to your shocked face as Jeno places your hand against his heavy groin. “Your fucking hand can’t even cover my cock and you wanna call me small?”

“I said tiny.” You croak, doing your best to keep your fingers elongated and not squeeze around the bulge squished against your palm.

Jaemin laughs under his breath, directing the phone lower to film his fingers toying with the end of your skirt. “Come on Jeno.” He stands up straight, parting his legs open to barricade the space in front of you. “Slip it in real quick and let her find out just how tiny you are.”

Air gets caught in your throat, listening to Jeno hum in thought against your ear, drawing a long breath between his teeth. “That’s not a bad idea.” The sound of his zipper lowers, shoving your hand inside to rest along his thick girth, no boxers, nothing to separate your palm from hot smooth flesh lifted in different areas by what you can assume can only be large pulsing veins.

Large veins just like the ones lining Jeno’s sleek physique, rippling through his biceps even under the different shades and gradations of inked art running up and down his arm. He reaches forward to grip your chin and turn your face to the side, dark gaze locked on yours. “A lot of zoomed in shots in that album.”

He means the collection of his bulge and what you swore was a hard-on scattered within the album of his selfies and outfit shots, even the douchey shirtless gym mirror photos(because other than the lump between his thighs, those are your favorites).

“Think you can take it?” He slides over your hand, wrapping his long digits around to encase your palm around the base of his length, ripping a shocked(and elated) gasp from your lips. “Bet you can’t, you’d probably scream and cry to take it out before I even get 5 inches in.”

“Yeah.” Jaemin pipes in, holding your phone by your hips to get a shot of your hand lost inside his best friend's pants. “Talked a lot of shit back there, look at this mess.” He whistles again, tsk tsk tsking as he pushes your skirt up to film the shiny streaks trickling down your inner thighs. “If you’re this wet already, that only means one thing.”

“Cock slut.” Jeno bites, teeth clicking together as he gathers the back of your skirt up and fists your panties to one side harshly, popping the seams under his roughness.

“I can take your little cock.” You finally manage to speak, having to coat your throat with multiple gulps to make sure you don’t sound as pathetic as you feel. “Probably won’t even feel that shit.”

Jaemin’s mouth parts open shocked, panning to Jeno’s intense gaze, the veins along his throat quivering. “Just for that, I’ll make sure you take every inch.”

The bulbous tip of his length probes at your entrance, sliding past your slick wet hole between your folds to really make you feel just how wide he is. The fear and excitement of finally feeling Jeno’s cock firsthand and not vicariously through eavesdropping has your toes curling inside of your shoes, reaching to wrap your hands around his forearm tucked under your ribcage, digging your nails into the different colorful tattoos.

He presses in closer, forehead rolling against yours as he leads the tip back to your entrance and pokes in, rubbing the slit against your tense muscle. “Fuck, how am I supposed to fit inside this tight pussy?”

Jaemin swallows, turning the camera to selfie mode, holding it between your thighs to watch the close up view of his best friend's massive size forcing way past your tight hole. “Don’t think she can.” He says mostly to himself, enjoying the voyeuristic sensation more than he’d expected, cock twitching the longer he watches Jeno tease at your entrance.

“Put it in.” You mumble, near the brink of tears. “Put your stupid useless little cock inside of me already.”

Jeno’s entire expression turns furious, gripping the middle of his girth firmly to force the head of his length in despite the snapping resistance he’s met with. “Fuck.”

Kissing the backs of his teeth, he pauses to feel your muscle suck around him, pulsating rapidly as tears silently pass down your cheeks and your lips tighten shut to keep in a broken mewl. “Now, imagine that..” he struggles to say calmly, panting heavily against your ear. “But 9 more inches, buried all the way in. Nice and deep.”

Jaemin groans in agreement, tapping under your navel. “Right here.”

Jeno kneads under one of your breasts to quell the need to thrust further in, twitching as he counts each tear drop flowing down past your chin. “Imagine it.” He says, pulling the tip out with an obscene pop that garners the attention of a few bystanders who turn to look for less than a second.

He pats your exposed buttcheek, snapping your underwear back into place. “Because you’re never going to get it now sweetheart.”

[froggyfics]

Neon

Your first date with Dick makes you nervous. 

THANK YOU TO THIS BRAVE ANON! For the life of me, I cannot figure out how to format your message request into this post, so I replied to you separately. You are my first ever request and can I say, thank you so much for choosing a fluffy topic! Don’t get me wrong, I love me some angst, but I’m a sad bitch, so angst comes super easy to me. This entire blog is about me trying to become a better writer, so thank you for choosing fluff because it really challenged me. I hope you enjoy it as much as I do! 

I categorized this as a fem!reader, just because I mentioned “girl” once in this fic. So, I hope that those who prefer gender neutral readers will still enjoy this. 

Feedback is always appreciated. Feel free to message me privately or comment below to let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! 

Pairing: Dick Grayson x fem!reader

Theme: Fluff

Word Count: 1,759

His arm was deceivingly muscular. You couldn’t help but squeeze his bicep a few times. You know, in the name of science. Who knew that Dick Grayson was this muscular? The biting winter night forced you two to bundle up. The weather called for sweaters, gloves, hats, jackets, boots, the whole nine yards. Even through the bundles of clothes he was wearing, you could still feel his muscles underneath. 

You decide on just one more squeeze. For scientific purposes, of course! One more squeeze and you’ll stop oogling. Both hands were wrapped around his upper arm. You tighten your grip and - 

Oop! He flexes his bicep! Your blush as you realize you’ve been caught in the act. Dick laughs heartily when you whine and smush your face into his arm in embarrassment. 

“I’m so-I mean- uhm-that was embarrassing,” you stutter.

“It’s fiiiinnnne,” he drawls. “I work out so much so that pretty girls like you can appreciate this.” He nudges the arm that you are latched onto for emphasis.

If you weren’t blushing before, you definitely were now. Dick Grayson thinks you’re pretty? Even if this is your first and last date with him, you were absolutely going to tell everyone around you that the Dick Grayson called you pretty. That was something to brag about. 

“Look who’s talking,” you murmur.

He really was the prettiest man you’ve ever seen. You stuttered all throughout the dinner date you two were just at. Initially you thought it was because of nerves. But as the date continued, you realized it was because Dick was just so damn pretty. Piercing blue eyes that never strayed far from your face had you stumbling and fumbling over your words. To a third party viewer, it might’ve sounded like you were a toddler stuck in the body of an adult. 

After he paid the bill, which you insisted on paying for, or at least paying for your portion of the meal, but he refused because he’s the embodiment of chivalry, you thought that would be the last you’d see of him. You thought he’d find you too jittery and weird for his liking. But to your utter shock and delight, he offered his arm to you and asked if he could just take a walk with you around the block to extend your date.

It was freezing outside, but walking so close next to him made your insides melt. As the two of you leisurely stroll away from the restaurant, with no destination in mind, the conversation flowed easily. Something about him by your side rather than in front of you made you less nervous, so it was easier to speak. You tell him about how you want to pick up a new hobby. You mention your coworker that got on your nerves earlier that week. You even tell him your favorite weird food combination that you eat when there’s no one around to judge you.

He talks about his early days with his father, Bruce Wayne, and how growing up as the billionaire’s adopted son was no walk in the park. He talks about Alfred, his pseudo-grandfather, with so much pride and joy. He tells you his favorite colors are blue and black, and that he finds himself wearing those colors quite often.

“And then my buddy Wally says to me-,”

He’s in the middle of his story when he abruptly stops. Neon lights flash in his face and he slowly breaks out into a smirk. You remain confused until you turn your head and glance at what you’re in front of. 

He slithers his arm out of your grip and then reaches to grab your hand. “C’mon, let’s go inside!”

Your eyes take a moment to adjust to the neon lights around you. Different colors of light flash all around you. Pinging sounds from the plethora of arcade games create a symphony of chaos. People hurriedly rush from one machine to another, trying to get to a game before others do. Laughter and chatter fill the air, alongside the clanking of coins. In your distracted haze, Dick retrieves a bucket full of coins for you two to indulge in from the arcade employee.

“You should’ve let me pay for that. You already paid for dinner,” you pout.

He’s facing you now, unlike when you two were walking side by side. You suddenly get the jitters, like you did when you were at dinner with him. You can still see the blue in his eyes, despite the lighting that tried its best to hide it. 

He comes dangerously close to you, almost toe-to-toe. Your head screams at you to look down or up or to the side, just anywhere else except his pretty face. He grabs the small of your back to bring you even closer and bring his mouth to your ear.

“Lemme take care of you.”

His breath on your ear makes you tingle, and you instinctively contract all the muscles in your body to control your reaction. The hand he has on your back slowly makes its way back to your hand and he pulls you closer to the rows of machines. 

You both silently stare at the machines in contemplation. There are so many choices to make, the both of you can’t decide on where to start.

You quickly glance at his face and notice his eyebrows are furrowed in concentration. He’s so freaking cute!

You take a deep breath in to psyche yourself up. He has taken the lead all night. It’s time you show just how interested you are in him, too. This time, you lead the way for him. While holding onto his hand, you shimmy your way past hordes of people until you reach your destination.

You let go of him to take off your gloves and reach into the bucket of coins. You deposit the allotted coins into the machine and the game comes to life. 

He places the bucket of coins on the ground. “Not tryna brag, but I’m a pretty good dancer. You might be in over your head.”

“We’ll see about that, pretty boy,” you bite back.

Three songs later and you conclude that the both of you suck at dancing. Neither of you score very high in the dancing game, but you do come out victorious, scoring higher than him in two out of the three games.

He raises his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. You win!” He’s breathless as he says it. 

You giggle as you turn your head to examine the other machines in your line of sight. You suddenly gasp at the claw machine filled with Justice League superheroes as stuffed plushie dolls. 

You run over to claim the machine with Dick hot on your trail. Your nose touches the machine’s plexiglass as you look over the dolls within it. Superman, Batman, Green Arrow, Wonder Woman, Hawkwoman, and so many more. 

“Which one do ya want?” Dick slides coins into the machine, readying himself to retrieve whatever plushie doll you desire. 

You think for a moment, seriously looking over the options. “Batman,” you confidently reply.

Dick nods his head and begins to move the claw. He has his eyes set on the Batman doll that is conveniently located right at the top of the pile. 

“Batman, eh,” he begins covertly. “Is he your favorite of the Bats or…” He trails off as he concentrates his efforts on placing the claw directly above the doll.

“Hmm, I’m not sure. I haven’t really thought about it.” You look off into the distance as you formulate an answer. Meanwhile, Dick makes a few minor adjustments to ensure that the claw will capture the Batman doll as he waits for your answer. He finally is satisfied with his efforts and presses the button that will drop the claw down on the doll. 

“Red Robin seems pretty cool,” you innocuously answer just as Dick releases the button. You could’ve sworn that Dick’s eye twitches and the vein on the side of his neck bulges. You think it’s because he’s so concentrated on winning this plushie doll for you, but Dick knows it’s due to a twinge of jealously. He’ll never admit what you said to anyone, especially not to Tim. It’s prime bullying material for his friends and family.

The two of you watch in silence as the claw hooks onto the Batman doll, carries it over to the side, and drops it down the hatch. You squeal and jump up and down in delight as Dick reaches into the machine to retrieve the doll. He hands you the doll and you grab it.

“Thankyouthankyouthankyouthankyou!” In your excitement, you lean over and peck Dick right on the lips as a show of appreciation. 

You have no idea where you got the confidence to do that. You don’t even realize what you did until you notice Dick sport the goofiest grin on his face. 

You fiercely begin to blush again, for what seems like the millionth time that night. You hope you didn’t just ruin the experience for him. Your anxiety is squashed though as soon as Dick leans in close again. He again grabs the small of your back with just a tad bit more strength this time around. His other hand cups your chin. You both inch your lips towards one another. You lean in a little. Then he does. Then you do. And then he does. Until finally, your lips embrace one another.

The kiss is gentle. Sweet. Loving. One arm holds the Batman doll, and the other grabs the front of his jacket to pull him in closer. He chuckles into your lips as you do. There’s so much going on around, but it’s almost as if you two were the only ones in that arcade. All that you could sense was him. 

To your chagrin, you end up breaking the kiss. You had to come up for breath eventually. You can feel your lips plump up due to the extra blood flow. Despite the kiss being broken, the two of you remain close to each other. Your bodies melded into one.

His sparkling blue eyes bore into yours. This time, you don’t feel nervous. You belong in this moment. You belong in this moment with him. This feels right. 

You stare right back at him and innocently ask, “So, who’s your favorite Bat?”

His eyes crinkle as he smiles. There’s mischief behind his eyes. Perhaps you’ll indulge in that on another date. 

“Baby, have you heard of Nightwing?”

[rippleclan]

RippleClan: Moon 39, Part 2 (The Trial)

James has been resistant to retiring, but his aches and pains have slowed him down. He approaches Downstar and is honored for his tireless service.

[Image ID: James sits in the middle of the screen.]

It was strange for Weedfoot to consider herself to be even close to elder age. Still, there she was, watching her mate throw off the caretaker title and become an elder. He put on a show for Downstar and the others, claiming that he wanted to continue his service, to guide his kits through apprenticeship, but was “too easily exhausted” to continue his vigilant protection of the camp and all within. Now it was somewhat true; camp duties were his favorite, and walks around the territory had begun to tire him. But Weedfoot was certain that her fellow perceptive Clanmates saw the truth of it all.

James was finally old enough to retire without being called lazy, and he was taking that opportunity like a kit hunts a mossball.

Weedfoot let her mate celebrate his retirement with Parsley and Rabbitjoy. She would have plenty of time with him later, so why not let him brag to his friends about how easy his life would be now? Instead, as the Clan dismissed and Downstar went to her den, Weedfoot followed Downstar. The tortoiseshell leader was a bit like her old, friendly self now that she had Rustshade to pour her worries on, but since Harvest Moon a few days prior…

“Downstar?” Weedfoot called into the leader’s den. Downstar had been about to step into her nest, but turned at the sound of her deputy’s call.

“Something the matter?” Downstar asked. Weedfoot hesitated, unsure how to open the conversation. Paleshade would have known; she was always closer to Downstar than Weedfoot, even compared to the first moons of RippleClan, when the leader and deputy duo flowed together like birds flying in formation.

“I spoke with Rustshade and Mousesong earlier today.” Weedfoot entered the den and took a cautious seat a couple tail-lengths away. “Both will be ready for the trial tomorrow, if that is acceptable.”

“So soon?” Downstar sighed.

“By AshClan standards, this has been tediously slow,” Weedfoot said with a forced chuckle. The tensed muscles under Downstar’s fluffy coat killed Weedfoot’s laugh.

“StarClan,” Downstar groaned, walking toward the exit. “The first trial in RippleClan’s history… and I have to try my own kits.” Downstar paused and stared out at camp. Weedfoot joined her. Downstar’s gaze rested on a group of three outside the warrior’s den. Rustshade leaned close to Shadowdrop and Wildclaw, as he was prone to do in recent days. They were more than likely discussing their plan of attack for the trial once again. The pair of siblings couldn’t leave camp without escorts while they awaited their trial, and the wait physically dragged on Wildclaw. Even as she listened to Rustshade, she glanced toward the camp exit.

“I’m sorry this is happening,” Weedfoot sighed. “This is a fine mess we’ve found ourselves in.”

“How can I hope to judge them fairly when all I see are three healthy grandkits and my son acting like the father he’s dreamed of being?” Downstar turned back and marched into her nest. “The story doesn’t feel real to me.”

“Try not to think about the story too much,” Weedfoot reminded her. “You need to be as open-minded as possible for the trial.”

“I will be,” Downstar growled, tail fluffing. “I don’t give anyone special privileges. If they did something wrong, I’ll punish them, but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt!” Weedfoot stiffened. 

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I just wanted to let you know they were ready.” Weedfoot bowed to her leader.

Yet as Weedfoot turned to go, Downstar groaned, “Wait, wait. Don’t leave, Weedfoot. I’m the one who’s sorry. I should not have snapped at you.” Weedfoot hesitated. She slowly approached Downstar and sat beside her. “I haven’t been able to talk to Rustshade while he’s preparing to defend my kits. I can’t deny my current feelings about this mess.”

“We’re conducting this trial together,” Weedfoot reminded her. “If anyone can listen to your worries about it now, I can.” Downstar sighed. She relaxed slightly and shifted closer to Weedfoot.

“Why did they have to go about it like this?” Downstar sighed.

(Weedfoot: 87, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(James: 115, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

Shadowdrop is charged with endangering a queen and stealing her kits. Wildclaw shares the charge. Rustshade acts as their defender and Mousesong as their inquisitor.

[Image ID: Shadowdrop and Wildclaw stand behind Rustshade. The three all watch Mousesong stride forward.]

---

Practically the entirety of RippleClan took the day off to bear witness to the first trial in their young history. Rabbitjoy would still need to cook and they couldn’t simply leave their borders unchecked, but if a cat could stay in camp, they did. Who would want to miss such a spectacle?

Each of the original four Clans had their own traditions for a trial, which meant RippleClan needed their own, and quickly. The Clan had Rattlepelt to thank for their final idea. As the subjects of the trial, Shadowdrop and Wildclaw each wore tight leather bands around their necks, almost like the strange collars of human society. Rustshade had a smaller band around his front paw, a symbol of the defender empathizing and placing themself in the paws of their charges. Mousesong, as inquisitor, had the most elaborate adornment; a necklace lined with beautiful clam shell beads, dyed blue with dogwood bark. The beads clacked together as Mousesong moved like the soft whispers of StarClan taking their place as quiet judges.

Downstar sat on top of the Shiprock, with Weedfoot settled below her, eyeing the Clan for any disruptions to the trial. Fennelspot sat to the side of the rock, fidgeting with the sand under his paws. The sunrise burned across the ocean and covered the camp in warm orange light. The shadows concealed Carnationspeckle and Oilstripe, who sat by the nursery with four kits. Troutkit had opened her eyes the day before and babbled random sounds that vaguely resembled words, but the litter of three black kits were still quiet and shut off from the world.

“A trial is a sacred duty of a just leader,” Downstar declared, all eyes on her. “To decide on guilt and punishment for a crime such as this without hearing from the Clan would be the act of a tyrannical leader. This is why we have our codekeepers; with them, we honor our laws and protect one another.” Shadowdrop’s gaze fell to his paws at the mention of codekeepers.

“A trial demands silence from the audience,” Weedfoot called. “Do not interrupt the proceedings unless there is an emergency. If you need to speak to me, please wave me down and do not draw attention away from the trial.” Weedfoot stared at the elder’s den with that statement. James had his five kits gathered around him. Most were polite and sat quietly, studying the trial, but Lavenderkit squirmed and trotted around his family. Waspkit smacked his brother and forced him to sit. 

“Inquisitor,” Downstar said, turning to Mousesong, “are you ready to provide evidence of code-breaking and prove the guilt of the accused?”

“I am, Downstar,” Mousesong huffed, her necklace clinking as she nodded.

“Defender,” Downstar continued, looking to Rustshade, “are you ready to protect your Clanmates from undue punishment?”

“I am,” Rustshade said.

“And…” Downstar said. She hesitated for a moment as she made eye contact with her son and daughter. “And accused, are you prepared to accept the outcome of this trial, whatever it may be?”

“We are,” Shadowdrop said, unflinching.

“Then inquisitor, explain the purpose of this trial,” Downstar declared, laying down with her paws dangling off the tip of the Shiprock. Mousesong stood and faced the rest of RippleClan.

“Shadowdrop and Wildclaw share the charges of endangering a queen and her kits,” Mousesong began. Her gaze lingered on each of her Clanmates for a few long seconds before moving onto the next cat. “In this, the pair stole three kits from their mother’s belly and left the queen to suffer birthing complications and eventually pass onto wherever the souls of loners go to rest. Today, I will prove to you, cats of RippleClan, that Shadowdrop coerced a loner into having his kits in an attempt to fill the emotional hole left by Carnationspeckle’s rejection of him. In doing this, he recruited Wildclaw to bear witness to the birth and take the kits to RippleClan, where the molly of Shadowdrop’s desires would feel compelled to nurse and care for his children, just as Shadowdrop dreamed.” Oilstripe reflexively moved in front of Carnationspeckle at the mention of the brown molly’s name. 

“Today, I intend to prove that Shadowdrop acted not out of love, but of selfish desire that cost a young molly her life. I also intend to prove that Wildclaw shares this guilt as an accomplice to the stealing of Tempestkit, Mosskit, and Trumpetkit.” Mousesong looked back to Downstar as she said the names of the three newborn kits. Downstar nodded, and Mousesong sat back down.

“Defender,” Downstar said, “how do you refute these charges?”

“The code my charges are accused of breaking is the Code of Queens and Kits,” Rustshade said. Rather than facing the crowd, Rustshade remained focused on Downstar. “However, in the process of this accusation and investigation, members of our Clan have also broken this code. This code is meant to protect kits and their parents from undue harassment, and yet Clammask, Scrubmask, and Fennelspot set off to investigate Shadowdrop’s claims, thereby breaking the code themselves.” Clammask tried to speak, but Scrubmask harshly nudged her, keeping her silent.

“This code allows for the breeding of kits with cats outside of the Clan in order to encourage the growth of our numbers and strength of our blood. We may memorize this code as applying to mollies who become pregnant, but it applies to toms who bring their kits to camp as well. Shadowdrop had no romantic ties to the mother of his kits. He did not break the code in this way. He cannot be blamed for the death of his queen because upon leaving her, she displayed no signs of the fatal condition that would befall her.”

“She had a name, Dad!” Clammask finally snapped. Parsley, Waspkit, and Rabbitjoy yowled their agreement.

“Quiet, quiet!” Weedfoot yowled over them.

“So I have to be quiet but you can yowl all you want?” Lavenderkit hissed at his brother.

“No one should be yowling,” James huffed, flicking his tail over both toms’ noses.

“Clammask brings up a good point, despite her interruption,” Downstar sighed. “The queen’s name was Cinderella. We should refer to her as such. She may not have been a Clan cat, but we owe her enough respect to use her name.” Mousesong and Rustshade bowed slightly.

“Cinderella’s death is a tragedy,” Rustshade continued, “but she had no intention of joining RippleClan and had no romantic relationship with Shadowdrop. At the heart of the situation, this was not a break in the code, as I intend to show you today.”

“Very good,” Downstar said. “The inquisitor and defender will take turns calling their witnesses to give statements before the Clan. They will both ask questions of the witness and present appropriate evidence during each interview. The inquisitor will call her first witness.”

“I have many witnesses I plan to call today,” Mousesong declared, “such as Clammask, Waspkit, and Carnationspeckle. However, there is one witness that overshadows the rest in importance. I call to bear witness before RippleClan and StarClan… Cinderella.” RippleClan stared at Mousesong. No one dared speak up. Then Oilstripe slipped away from Carnationspeckle. Traditionally, witnesses were supposed to sit next to the deputy, but Oilstripe left a large space beteeen herself and Weedfoot.

“Mousesong, Oilstripe, explain this,” Downstar ordered.

“Not long after Clammask, Scrubmask, and Fennelspot returned to camp with news of Cinderella’s demise,” Mousesong explained, “Oilstripe began to see a new spirit wandering camp. We all know of her ghost sight, as verified by Fennelspot, so this in and of itself is not surprising. Yet this spirit lacked the same starry pelts as StarClan spirits and looked nothing like any cat Oilstripe knew of. This cat was Cinderella. She has agreed to answer questions with Oilstripe as an interpreter.”

“Objection!” Rustshade yowled. “Oilstripe has never reported seeing the spirit of a cat outside StarClan in the past. Even then, how can we trust that she’s reporting exactly what this spirit says?”

“Thank you for the trust, Dad,” Oilstripe muttered.

“We treat the testimony just like we would treat anyone else’s,” Mousesong explained. “I’m sure StarClan wouldn’t accept a perversion of their gift. If Oilstripe were to add her own words to the testimony, StarClan will likely inform Fennelspot.”

“Incredibly unorthodox,” Downstar muttered, “but I don’t know a time in living history when a Clan has been able to take a dead molly’s testimony. Oilstripe, do you swear to report only what the spirit of Cinderella tells you?”

“I do,” Oilstripe said, glancing overhead at her leader.

“Then begin your interview, inquisitor,” Downstar declared.

[Image ID: Mousesong speaks with Oilstripe. The ghost of a smoky black molly with a white collar stands next to Oilstripe. Oilstripe/Cinderella say “We had a deal. Bear kits with him, and he would teach me as much about Clan life as he could. Fire starting, cooking, crafting, everything.”]

Mousesong approached Oilstripe with a calculated gaze. She glanced at the empty spot beside her.

“I hope your afterlife is peaceful, Cinderella,” Mousesong said to the empty space. “I’m sure Rustshade will be questioning you on how you can exist when we thought Oilstripe only saw StarClan spirits. Do you have any answers for us?” Oilstripe’s ears tilted to the empty space. She was quiet for a while, listening to something no one else could hear.

“My mother told me that when I died, I would spend a year in the land I left behind, making sure my loved ones are safe before I move on,” Oilstripe said, although it would be more truthful to say that Cinderella said so. “This is just what I expected. Since I died, I thought it would be good to make sure my kits went to a good home.”

“Yes, your kits,” Rustshade huffed. He marched up beside Mousesong. His focus shifted between Oilstripe and where everyone presumed the spirit of Cinderella sat. “Kits you had with the young black tom behind me, am I correct?”

“She’s nodding,” Oilstripe reported.

“Is it true that you agreed to give the kits to RippleClan long before their birth?” Rustshade asked. Oilstripe squirmed as she waited for Cinderella’s response.

“I think you’ve made her nervous,” Oilstripe admitted, shifting closer to the Shiprock.

“This is a lot, isn’t it?” Mousesong sighed. “You find that you’ve died, you find a stranger who can see you, and you’re suddenly thrust into the ritual of a strange group. I can’t relate to being dead, but I understand feeling strange. I came to RippleClan when I was young. Everyone decided my fate for me. I imagine that’s a bit like what you’ve experienced as a loner, am I correct?” Oilstripe listened for a long time.

“Froggy told me about the Clans,” Oilstripe/Cinderella explained. “I didn’t want to live in one, but I liked what you could do. I thought if I could cook prey for my sister and I, it would be easier to live away from humans. I asked a few cats I saw near your borders, but none seemed interested in talking to me until I met Shadowdrop.”

“Yes, elaborate on your relationship with Shadowdrop,” Mousesong urged her on.

“We had a deal. Bear kits with him, and he would teach me as much about Clan life as he could. Fire starting, cooking, crafting, everything.”

“Did he tell you why he wanted to have kits?”

“He wanted a family.”

“Yes, a desire that the code has clear-cut provisions for!” Rustshade interrupted. “This only proves my argument, Downstar. Shadowdrop was not romantically involved with Cinderella, it was a deal as simple as the ones mollies make with strange sires.”

“That may be true,” Mousesong huffed, “but we have yet to get to the kitting itself. Can you take us through it, Cinderella?” Shadowdrop shifted closer to Wildclaw.

“When I felt the kits coming, I went to RippleClan,” Oilstripe translated for Cinderella. “Shadowdrop told me about all the medicines in the Clans, so I thought we would have the kits there. We met up nearly every day, so I knew where to wait for him. When he saw me, he told me to stay strong and went to fetch help.”

“He brought back Wildclaw, yes?” Mousesong clarified. 

“My memory blurs a bit when they get back. I was focused on my kitting. The first two kits came out right, but after the third kit, I felt different. I think there was an issue. It was hard to describe. What I remember is that not long after I cleaned up the third kit, Shadowdrop and his guest left with the kits. I was alone. I wasn’t sure what to do. I headed for home, but I suppose I never made it back.”

“It may be an odd testimony, but members of RippleClan, you’ve heard it from the victim,” Mousesong declared, facing the crowd. “Shadowdrop and Wildclaw left Cinderella behind, in pain, without her kits. Fennelspot could have saved her, but she never got the chance. How can we say this is a simple case of siring when they left Cinderella to die and tried to forget she ever existed?”

“I want to go back to how you said your memory blurs,” Rustshade huffed. “If you don’t remember much, how can we trust that what you do remember is correct?”

“Shadowdrop showed up with three black kits, didn’t he?” As Oilstripe repeated what only she could hear, she glared at Shadowdrop. Another pair of eyes stared at the black tom too, but they were invisible to nearly everyone. Shadowdrop felt the glare of both mollies.

Shadowdrop and Wildclaw are found guilty. Shadowdrop is demoted to a warrior and must spend the next half moon in exile. Wildclaw will be on nursery duty until the litter is apprenticed (a task she hates).

[Image ID: Shadowdrop and Wildclaw listen to their sentences.]

There were quite a few more witnesses after Cinderella (Waspkit, Clammask, Carnationspeckle, even Oilstripe came back as her own witness) but none could match hers in terms of strangeness. It seemed every interview looped back to what the unseen spirit had said. More than a few cats stepped out of camp to debate whether the loner’s ghost was actually there or if Oilstripe was lying to get Shadowdrop in trouble. Regardless of the truth, Mousesong dug into the statement like prey with every argument she crafted.

Rustshade, oddly enough, only called Wildclaw as a witness. She didn’t have much to add; her brother asked for her help, of course she helped. Shadowdrop, however, stayed where he was, studying his Clanmates, itching at his ceremonial collar.

Downstar took a while to make a decision. She called many members of RippleClan into her den to hear their opinions on the matter like any informed leader would. Despite it all, the wait was like a blanket of fleas crawling across the pelt of RippleClan. Shadowdrop and Wildclaw waited with Rustshade in the center of camp the entire time. While Wildclaw kept pestering Rustshade about what would happen next, Shadowdrop stared at the nursery, where his three squirmy kits slept in the darkness.

Downstar left her den shortly before sunset. Conversations died away and curious eyes watched Downstar climb onto the Shiprock. Shadowdrop sat up and nudged his sister. Weedfoot hurried out of the nursery and took her place below Downstar.

“I have come to my decision,” Downstar announced, studying her kits. “Before I pass my judgment, however, there’s someone we still haven’t heard from today. Shadowdrop?” Shadowdrop met his mother’s eye. “Wildclaw may share your charges, but in essence, you are the one on trial here. You’ve barely spoken today. I need to hear this from you. Tell us the truth, Shadowdrop. Please.” Shadowdrop stood, shaking the sand off his paws.

“I wanted a family, Mom,” Shadowdrop said. “I went about it the only way I could. If I couldn’t have them with Carnationspeckle, I would have them with someone else. I hid the truth at first because I knew people would make the wrong conclusions. I can be a great father. I’ll raise these kits to be model RippleClan cats.” Wildclaw poked Shadowdrop before he could say more. Over by the warrior’s den, Clammask and Oilstripe bristled. 

“Shadowdrop…” Downstar sighed. Her weary eyes washed over the Clan. “There were other ways to start a family. The way you’ve gone about it was irresponsible and selfish. What if Carnationspeckle wasn’t here to nurse your kits? Or did you sire them knowing she would?”

“That’s not what he wanted, Mom,” Wildclaw growled, stepping closer with unsheathed paws.

“Wildclaw, you don’t know what he wanted,” Downstar snapped. “You followed him out into the territory and didn’t ask questions. You don’t think these things through, Wildclaw, and it shows.” Wildclaw froze. She sat back beside Shadowdrop. Downstar sighed deeply, a shiver running down her pelt. As she relaxed, she sat taller and glared down at Shadowdrop and Wildclaw.

“Warriors of StarClan, may my words and my actions today honor your sacred code and protect RippleClan. Shadowdrop, Wildclaw, I find you guilty of endangering a queen and her kits. Your act of siring may be protected by the code, but you left a struggling mother to die and took away her kits. No matter what deal you may have made, you were cruel. All you cared about was having kits that you could watch Carnationspeckle nurse.”

“That’s not true!” Shadowdrop yowled. “I… I was…” Shadowdrop’s eyes bounced in his skull, searching for answers he couldn’t find.

“Shadowdrop, your attempt to sneak around the Code of Queens and Kits shows me that you cannot be trusted to guard the code in the future,” Downstar said. Her tone was still and steady. “Upon your return, you will no longer be a codekeeper, but a warrior assigned to whatever tasks your Clan needs.”

“Mom…” Shadowdrop gulped.

“When he returns?” Wildclaw snapped. “What does that mean?”

“Cinderella agreed to your deal in order to learn our skills and better survive as a loner,” Downstar explained. “You showed no compassion for her, and so should get a glimpse of what she may have experienced. For the next half moon, you will live in exile. You will not be allowed in RippleClan territory and must care for yourself like Cinderella did.” Shadowdrop stared up at Downstar. He kept still, but his jaw quivered and the tip of his tail twitched wildly. “In other circumstances, this could have been a permanent exile, Shadowdrop. Reflect on that. Mousesong, escort Shadowdrop out of RippleClan territory.” 

Rustshade gently helped Shadowdrop out of his ceremonial collar. Shadowdrop’s scared gaze tore into the nursery as Mousesong nudged him back. RippleClan parted as Mousesong shoved Shadowdrop out of camp. Halibutdusk looked at his paws as his brother passed. Downstar couldn’t look away.

“Wildclaw,” she finally said after a long, pain-soaked minute. “You could have helped Cinderella, but you didn’t. I believe you have perspectives on Clan life that need to be corrected. As such, until Shadowdrop’s litter is apprenticed, you will be on nursery duty. You will not be allowed on any other patrols and will care for the kits’ every need.”

“I don’t need to be in the nursery all day!” Wildclaw groaned. 

“You do and you will, Wildclaw!” Downstar yowled. “There will be no bargaining. Your punishment is set. May StarClan forgive you both. This trial is over.” Downstar soared off the Shiprock and sulked into her den. Halibutdusk was the first of the Clan to step out of the crowd. He headed for his mother’s den. Wildclaw struggled and pulled at her collar. Rattlepelt had to pull her paw away and help her before she broke the leather. Oilstripe hurried to the nursery, Weedfoot’s kits slipped around her to find their mother, and the Clan carefully broke into heated whispers.

With that, RippleClan’s first trial was finally over.

(Downstar: 98, female, leader, adventurous, trusted advisor, very clever)

(Weedfoot: 87, female, deputy, charismatic, steady paws, formidable fighter)

(Mousesong: 15, female, codekeeper, loyal, keen eye)

(Rustshade: 83, male, codekeeper, sneaky, learner of lore)

(Wildclaw: 31, female, caretaker, fierce, trusted advisor)

(Shadowdrop: 31, male, warrior, sneaky, good teacher, eloquent speaker)

(Clammask: 33, female, caretaker, righteous, lore master, good teacher)

(Lavenderkit: 5, male, kit, noisy, likes to sing)

(James: 115, male, elder, charismatic, den builder, formidable fighter)

(Oilstripe: 43, female, historian, charismatic, ghost speaker)

(Halibutdusk: 31, male, warrior, gloomy, masterful storyteller, clever)

[hannahssimblr]

I feel bad for Liam, and eventually do extend a pity invite to what I intend to be a quiet night in with a couple of beers a couple of nights later. It’s been a day just like all of the others, spent alternating between kicking a lightweight ball from the tourist shop about, barefoot on the sand, and jumping into the sea when the sun gets too hot. 

In the late afternoon, when the skin across my nose feels tight and my hair wild and crunchy from the salt, I queue for ice cream at the Surf Shack where Liam is slinging cones and coffees. I have a sense that Liam suffers. He must, while slaving away in that tiny space between the counter and the grill that’s always sizzling with the chips and burgers that his father is flipping. He smiles widely at me when I reach the head of the line, sweat pooling on his forehead and that feeling of sympathy intensifies inside me. My sympathy, partially, because I’ve never really tried to be nice to him for reasons that neither he or I can fully understand. I invite him over on the spot.

A part of me hopes he won’t come, that he’ll be too awkward, but, of course, he does. His mother drops him off outside and he knocks on the door with a big, jolly smile and a big plastic bottle of coke. I bring it to the kitchen counter with our crates of beer and bottles of vodka. 

“Will you have a glass of this?” I offer, “Or you can have a beer or something.”

“Whatever you’re having.”

“Oh, well I’ll have vodka, probably… I’ll mix it with the coke or whatever.”

Liam, thrilled that I have chosen to make use of the drink he brought, perks up as I unscrew the top, “Okay I’ll have the same then!”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, that sounds lovely.”

I pour some for him and we head down to the living room together, where Joe and Kasper are arguing animatedly about whose ipod should be connected to the aux cable. As I sink onto the sofa next to Jen, she puts her head on my shoulder. 

“You were nice to invite him,” she says, and we watch Liam as he strikes up an enthusiastic conversation with Shane about football.

“Yeah well,” I mutter, “Keep an eye on him. My money's on him getting hammered tonight.”

I don’t know if Liam gets hammered, I stop paying attention to him after an hour or so, because I, in fact, am the one who drinks too much that night. It starts when Joe starts pouring doubles in the kitchen, and Kasper starts up a dangerous bragging game, claiming that he can hold more drink than all of us combined. 

“Even more than you!” he claims, his finger stabbing at my chest, “Mister big guy. Polish can drink more than the Irish.”

“You mean American,” Joe pipes up, “Or, I dunno, what are you?”

“Not sure,” I say, and slosh an undetermined measure of vodka into my cup. It breaches the rim and splashes on the floor a bit, but I’ll definitely clean it up later. To make a point I neck the whole thing in five seconds, then Kasper tilts his head and swallows his whole cup too, wiping his mouth with a smile and a shrug like it was easy. I know I’m in trouble. 

It’s hazy after that, and when I’m pushing the living room furniture out of the way and forcing Jen to dance with me to some Armin Van Buuren song, she squeals in my arms. “God, no! I hate dancing!”

“But you love dancing with me.”

“You are so drunk, show me your face,” she grabs my cheeks and looks right into my eyes, and she’s swimming in and out of focus, “Oh my god, yes, you’re smashed.”

“I love you, Jenny.”

“I know.”

I kiss one cheek then the other, and repeat, “I love you.”

“I thought she was lesbian,” Liam comments from the sideline. 

“Come on,” she peels me off her, clamping her hand over my mouth, because she doesn’t like the way I’m trying to sing words I don’t even know into the side of her face, I try to lightly bite her palm, “Hey! Come outside with me, I’m going to have a smoke.”

“Okay.”

She takes my hand and leads me upstairs and through the kitchen where our shoes are tacky on the floor. “Ugh, sticky.”

“I’ll clean it sometime.”

“Uh huh, sure you will,” she rummages through a cabinet and produces a pack of cigarettes from behind my parents’ champagne flutes. 

“Why do you keep them in there?” I wonder. 

“Because you’ll sneak them from me if you know where they are, and then one by one they’ll be squirrelled away, but rest assured, I’ll find a new spot to hide them tomorrow.”

“I don’t smoke.”

She smirks, “okay.”

“Not properly,”

“Then don’t ask me for one,”

I was going to, but don’t, to make a point. 

She unlocks the balcony door, “I saw a film recently that I think you’d like.”

“Really?” I don’t know how she thinks I can be involved in a discussion about films right now, but I suspect she doesn’t, that she's trying to distract me so that I don’t start bumming any of her rare and precious cigarettes. My brain doesn’t have the functioning nor the willpower to let her know I’m in on her little trick, so I just listen, or half listen to her go on about it. 

“...kind of that vibe, like you think it’s a simplistic, kind of run of the mill, then all this bonkers shit starts happening and like… oh hang on, c’mere, can you bring me out that lighter in there?”

“Over there?”

“Yep, on the table.”

I grab it and bring it to her, taking a risky move and tossing it, but she’s quick, she catches it before it careens over the edge of the balcony, proving her coordination a lot better than mine in this condition. I rest my elbows against the tempered glass of the railing because I’m losing trust in myself to stay upright. Is she talking about a David Lynch film? I should have listened to her at the beginning of this conversation because now it’s too late to ask. 

The world is churning, but I am invested in watching her try to light the cigarette, because there are two lighters, two mouths, two Jens. The sight of it is funny enough to make me laugh, as both her faces float around in front of my eyes like some magical illusion. 

“Feck sake,” the lighter sparks but fails to ignite, “This one is out of juice. Here, I think there’s another one in that bowl downstairs.”

She doesn’t trust me on the balcony alone, I can tell by the things the muscles in her brow are doing, the way she tugs me away from the edge, and I don’t think I trust myself either. I picture myself falling over the railing onto the sand, and decide that I would prefer not to be paralysed or dead before I ever see Berlin. I follow her back to the kitchen. 

Beginning // Prev // Next

corresponding LG chapter

[beyondtheglowingstars]

Heyooo can I ask for Four w a super strong crush :0 I’m incredibly tiny but God knows if I liked exercising and also didn’t have arthritis I’d be so buff😭🤚

I feel u bestie, had I kept at training in the gym consistently and I'd probably be able to lift some decently high numbers right now lol

This was a fun one! I'm living for it tbh. Hope you don't mind that I made it headcanons, it sounded 'right' in my head to make it headcanons (anyways, you can always just request a fic if you want one after this haha).

Four with a super strong (GN) crush (hcs)

Just like the others, he was very surprised by your strength once you got to show it. It's not that he thought you couldn't be packing some power, but he certainly didn't imagine you'd have that much.

Let's just say that he was very impressed once he got to see that you also had the size to show for your strength, clothes tend to obscure many shapes, and it was clear that you took care of yourself.

His simple friendship with you turned into a massive crush faster than he could realize.

Since all of that's happened, he's felt like he's got much more in common with you than he initially thought. Being very small often had people and foes belittling his skills, and also his strength.

On a related note, he especially likes when a particularly cocky monster chooses to underestimate you based on looks alone, only to regret it not long after. Those are never his kills, but he can't help feeling some level of satisfaction when you put one of those creatures in their place.

Gives you compliments on your strength from time to time depending on a few factors.

But something along the lines of "Great thing we have someone as strong as you on our side!"/"You're very strong, so I'm sure it won't be a challenge for you at all."

If the chance ever arises in conversation with someone outside the chain, he's definitely bragging about how strong you are (and if he's not bragging about that, then you can be sure that he's mentioning another remarkable thing about you) to the other person, most of the time before he can process what he's doing.

A few members of the chain have caught on to the way he looks and talks about you, and he's gotten teased about having a crush on you a few times.

His face always turns red afterwards, because deep down he knows they're right even if he denies it to them.

He'd love to stay perched on your shoulders or back for as long as you'll allow him. He knows that he most likely doesn't weight anything to you.

But he's embarrassed to ask you for that, you'd have better luck with hugs.

But that still doesn't take away the fact that he's put himself to sleep at the thought of cuddling with you and imagining what it would be like to have your arms securely wrapped around him.

He'd love to have you as an occasional blacksmithing helper, not only because you're the person he enjoys being around the most, but also because he secretly wants to put more of your strength to the test and be the only one with front row seats to the event.

Don't worry though, he wouldn't give you any complicated tasks. Just simple things along with teaching you anything if necessary.

Of course, but that's only if you're willing to help him with whatever thing at the forge, he wouldn't force you if you don't want to. His crush on you will remain unchanged either way.

Once he grows more comfortable, he'd end up asking you to lift him up so he can reach higher places or get something that's way too high up for either of you to get, out of pure, lazy convenience.

Though that would mostly happen only when he knows you two are alone, otherwise the other Links would never let the suspicions about his crush on you go.

Hylia only knows what would happen to this man if you ever carry him in your arms, out of battle due to injury.

If he had heart eyes for you before, then now he slipped and fell into a puddle of his feelings for you and refuses to get back up after that, and the puddle only gets bigger by the second.

He'd blush at the mere mention of your name from that point on.

The scene from when you carried him back to safety would play on an endless loop for days on end.

And if his crush was easy to spot for those who paid enough attention, then now it's almost as if he carried a sign that stated all he thinks about is you.

[nycbaby21]

Jack Hughes Imagine

Mistletoe kisses w/ Jack

Word count: 2,471

A small shiver runs up my spine when I open my car door. The cold air instantly sends prickles onto my cheeks as get out and make my way up to the porch. The yard is covered in a light dusting of snow and I can hear the neighborhood kids running around enjoying the weather. A smile graces my face when I think about the memories of the Hughes boys, my sister, and I running around throwing snowballs at each other. I carefully climb the stairs going up to the door and reach to turn the knob when it opens for me. Arms are immediately thrown around me and the familiar smell of my best friend’s cologne fills my nose. Sighing and closing my eyes I lean into the hug and squeeze him.

I could feel the muscles he had developed since we last saw each other that he had been bragging about. Opening my eyes and pulling back I see the smiling face of none other than Quinn Hughes. I constantly see the edits and post about how he had a resting bitch face, which always made me laugh because I got to see the smiley happy side of him. He runs his hands up and down my arms in an attempt to warm them up. “I’m so glad you are finally here. I missed you bug,” he laughs ruffling my hair. “Quinn stop,” I groan trying to smooth it back down. “You aren’t picking on my favorite child are you Q,” Ellen asks pushing him out of the way for her hug. 

As we hugged she rocked us back and forth and pulled away laughing. “I’m your firstborn,” Quinn pouts thinking he is making an argument. “Yeah but she was my first babygirl,” she smiles and leans over and pinches my cheek. I let out a small giggle and smiled at the woman who had always been a second mother to me. Ellen and my mom met when they were in college and have remained close ever since. Moving in down the street from each other and raising their kids together. Our ages fell perfectly in line with the boys. Quinn was born first, then me, followed by Jack, then my sister, and lastly Lukey. 

“Missy you’re here,” the youngest Hughes brother rushes over wrapping me up in his arms. When we were younger Luke was trying to call me sissy but he said missy instead and the nickname stuck. “Hi Lukey,” I smile looking up at the boy who had gotten even taller. He moves to my side wrapping his arm around my waist. “I swear you get taller every time I see you,” I laugh at the height difference between us. “Or you are getting shorter Y/n,” I hear the voice from the middle Hughes coming from behind us. “Haha, really funny Mr. 5’11”,” I joke leaning over to give him a hug. His laugh rattles his chest and I can’t help but smile at the warm feeling it leaves me. Pulling back I am forced back into Luke’s side as my parents, Jim, and sister join the small group we had formed in the corner of the living room.

“Luke stop smothering Y/n,” Jack laughs making fun of the baby of the group. His ears turn pink from embarrassment but his grip on me doesn’t falter. “It’s okay Jacky, I really don’t mind,” I say leaning up and trying my best to ruffle his hair. Sensing my struggle he laughs and leans down some to help me out. The group is filled with laughter at the scene. “Yeah Jacky she doesn’t mind,” Luke sticks his tongue out as his older brother. While the rest of the group continues laughing at me babying Luke like I have our whole lives, Jack doesn’t join in. I look over and send him a smile that returns focusing back on the conversation between Quinn and my dad about fishing.

After catching up with the whole group, we all sat at the table and ate our traditional Christmas dinner, pizza. Our families always got together before Christmas to celebrate and give gifts so we could have actual Christmas day with other relatives and travel. With us having already had traditional foods later on in the week we decided not to burn ourselves out and just get a simple easy meal. “So Y/n mom was telling me all about the guy you have been seeing. When do we finally get to meet him,” Ellen asks while wiping her mouth and all eyes shoot my way. I take a drink of my water,” Actually we aren’t seeing each other anymore. Turns out he was a bigger Hughes fan than a Y/n fan.” A silence falls on the table for different reasons, The boys always felt bad when people tried to use us to get closer to them, my sister obviously knew what it felt like especially with her and Luke together at college, and our parents hated how it made all of us feel. 

Quinn being the big brother he was quickly shifted the conversation and I sent him a grateful smile. After finishing the food Jack and I gathered up the dishes and headed to the sink for dishes duty. We drew the short ends of the straw having to clean up after dinner while the other three headed to the living room to help our moms finish the homemade garland filled with popcorn and cranberries. 

“How is everyone back in Jersey,” I ask grabbing the plate from his hands and drying it off while placing it with the others. “They’re all good. Nico told me to tell you he expected a visit soon. He literally threatened laps on me if I didn’t,” he laughed at the Swiss man. Shaking my head and joining in I look at him and say,” Well how could I say no to my second favorite devil.” He quickly meets my eyes and I can’t read his face. “Second,” he questions fishing for me to tell him that he is my favorite. “Of course, no one could come above John,” I teased bumping his shoulder as I left him in the kitchen staring off into space.

Joining the rest of the group I take a seat next to Luke leaving the last open one next to me. “Where’s Jack hunny,” my mom asks looking towards the kitchen wondering why he hasn’t come in yet. I shrug my shoulders getting back up and looking for him. We ended up colliding in the doorway that connected the living room to the kitchen. His hands quickly shot out to help stabilize me. Glancing up at him I feel my face flush. There was no denying that Jack was a good-looking guy. I had always had a small crush on him growing up. I couldn’t help but hope one day he would return it. That dream crashed and burned when he tried setting Alex and me up.

I loved Alex, just as much as I loved the brothers who introduced us. But I didn’t really think it was fair to him so we just went out the one time and decided just friends was fine. That was when I realized Jack saw me the exact same way Quinn and Luke did, as a sister. I shoved my feelings down so far that I even forgot about them for a little while. I still couldn’t help the small blush on my cheeks from him holding me this close. “You okay,” he whispered looking me over to make sure I wasn’t hurt. I just nod and stand back up turning to head back to my spot on the couch. I am met with grins and knowing eyes when I face everyone. “Did we miss something,” I look around trying to figure out why they were looking at us like that. Jack shared the same confused look.

“You missed the decorations that Luke and I put up earlier,” my sister smirked leaning over and giving him a fist bump. My eyes dart around looking for whatever the two were talking about. I look over and see Jack’s face turn ten different shades of red. He points up and I feel like I am finally let in on a joke finding the source of the laughter. Taped above us was a small bundle of mistletoe along with some white Christmas lights. My eyes widen and my face soon matches Jack’s scarlet-colored one. “C’mon guys that's just some stupid old tradition that nobody does anymore,” I rush my words out almost tripping over a few of them. “It wasn’t just some stupid tradition when you guys made me kiss that girl from my class last year,” Luke says matter-of-factly. I looked around to see if anyone would side with me but I found Quinn and my sister eating the popcorn they were supposed to be using.

After a couple seconds of nobody saying anything I heaved out a loud sigh, only the two younger ones knew about my crush on Jack and I was already planning on how to get back at them for this. I stood taller on my tiptoes to become at eye level with Jack. He sucked in a breath and his wide eyes scanned all over my face. I placed a hand on each of his cheeks and closed the space between us by connecting our lips. Twelve-year-old was freaking out right now, but to be honest so was twenty-two-year-old me. Kissing Jack sent a fuzzy and warm feeling all the way down to my toes. The kiss only lasted a couple of seconds, and did it even count as a kiss if the other person stood frozen the whole time. Feeling absolutely humiliated I tried to run away from him and head upstairs to escape the embarrassment. 

A sudden tug of my wrist has me spinning back into his embrace and before I can even question it, he kisses me. As our lips met for a second time, a tingling sensation ran throughout my body. I felt his hands gently cup my face as he deepened the kiss, his lips moving against mine with a gentle urgency. Wrapping my hands around his wrist I tried to lock him into place, I never wanted this moment to end. Suddenly remembering we weren’t the only two people in the room, even if the kiss made us feel this way, we broke apart and looked into each other’s eyes. 

“I’ve wanted to do that for years,” he says only loud enough for the two of us to hear. I slip his hand into mine and pull him out on the back porch away from the prying eyes of our families. His blue eyes pull me in like the waves in the ocean. “Jack what do you mean you’ve wanted to do that for years,” I ask hugging myself and trying to fight off the cold wind blowing outside. He rids himself of his sweatshirt and carefully places it over my head letting me do the rest. I didn’t think my face could turn a darker shade of red. “Remember when that jerk blew you off for homecoming that one year? I was so pissed off that he had hurt you, but a part of me also kinda felt relieved. I was so confused so I talked to Trevor and Cole about it and they told me I was jealous,” he let out a nervous laugh at the end of his speech. I couldn’t help but smile at him.

“When I got home from practice that day I went straight home and showered then walked over to your house to ask you to go with me instead. Only when I got there I saw Alex holding you on your porch swing and hear him ask you first. I knew I had no right to be mad at him, he didn’t know how I felt. Hell, I didn’t even know how I felt til like two hours before,” he was out of breath by the time he finished. I shook my head and rolled my eyes at the brown-haired boy in front of me. “You Jack Hughes are an idiot,” I say reaching out to grab his hand. He has the cutest confused expression on his face. “J I had a crush on you since like the age of seven. I just always thought you saw me the same way Quinny and Luke did. That’s the only reason I even went with Alex in the first place. He said you had tried getting him to ask me out before but he was way too nervous to do it. But that you didn’t want to see me upset, that’s why he asked,” I finish my story by looking at his face and seeing the grimace he made.

“Yeah well in my defense I was so stupid I had to have Trevor, Trevor Zegras mind you, explain to me that I was in love with you. How the overprotectiveness I had with you wasn’t a brotherly thing at all. I never realized that the way I love my family was different than the way that I love you.” My eyes started to tear up hearing him admit that he was in love with me. A part of me shut off the idea of ever getting to be with him. “Well, I guess we kinda owe Z one for this anyway,” I say leaning into him and resting my head against his chest. His arms move to wrap around me and give me a gentle squeeze. “Actually I think we may owe everybody one except for us,” he laughs placing two fingers under my chin and moving my head to look at him. He dips down a places a gentle kiss on my nose, then my forehead, and finally my lips.

Walking back inside holding hands gave everyone the answer they so desperately were hoping for. A chorus of “finally” and “about damn time” came from the peanut gallery. Laughing Jack fell back onto the couch pulling me down and into his chest. The two of us sat cuddled up watching our families interact. My sister smacked Luke on the chest when he hit her with the cranberry that was intended for Quinn. There was no better Christmas gift than this, spending the night with all the people that I loved most, in the arms of the boy that I loved most.

[laukethauntings]

Sirius Black x fem!reader oneshot

PLAYING PRETEND

SUMMARY you grew up as a pureblood Slytherin from Wales, after moving close to London with your mother, you meet the very particular Sirius Black at a housewarming party.

WARNINGS mentions of parental abuse, depictions of parental abuse

Sirius Black has always been one for shows. He never really cared to sit still and be quiet. He always had something to say. While many might believe that it is good that he's an outspoken young man, many would disagree. Some of those people would happen to be his family: The Noble House of Black. He has always been scolded by his mother because of his need to cause trouble. He is left with hidden bruises and scars that he is forced to cover up with expensive robes and garments that he is both ashamed of but simultaneously proud.

He has never agreed with his parents on the topic of blood supremacy. While his family is associated exclusively with those they deem ‘pure’, Sirius is off galavanting around with ‘blood-traitors’, ‘half-breeds’ and ‘mudbloods’. This has infuriated his mother and father.

Naturally, at a ‘party’, so to speak, welcoming a brand new pureblood family to the area from France, Sirius decides he wants to act out. He starts to loudly defend his friends after an off-hand comment from his mother about Sirius’ habits, which led to a slap on the wrist and a promise for something much worse if he is to step even a toe out of line the rest of the night. Afterwards, his mother takes him to greet the hosts. He overheard a few adults talking about how they moved here from France. He also heard some slightly nastier comments about the woman's late husband.

“Thank you so much for coming Mrs. Black, It’s a pleasure,” The hostess greets, her french accent very prominent.

“Thank you for inviting us,” his mother responds, a hint of coldness in her tone.

“I take it you are enjoying yourselves?” She asks. Sirius doesn’t know how he feels about having another pureblood family living near him. There’s already too many of them to begin with. The two converse for a while. He tries to slip away but that just earns a tight grip around his wrist and a comment about how she wants to keep an eye on him so he doesn’t cause any trouble. 

“This is my daughter, Y/n.” Lydia, Sirius picked up from their conversation, pulls a young girl, looking to be close in age to him, over towards her. Y/n offers a polite smile and a curtsy.

“Walburga Black,” his mother introduces

“Pleasure,” she responds back, an accent similar to her mother. She stands up straight and keeps her head up, a stern look on her face, yet a small polite smile graced her lips. He is suddenly grabbed by the wrist by his mother and thrust forward so he is standing beside her instead of behind.

“This is my son,” She forces a smile. “Introduce yourself,” She scolds quietly behind gritted teeth.

“Sirius, Sirius Black,” He bows politely. When he stands up straight once more, he is met with the stern glare from the girl across from him. Her head is held high and her eyes narrowed, as if she was analysing him. While she was visibly shorter, her stare made him feel small. Sirius could already tell she was like them. She seems nasty like a lot of his family.

“Sirius,” Walburga scolds, her nails gripping his shoulder, causing him to look at her, then towards Lydia.

“I assume you also attend Hogwarts?” She repeats. His gaze flicks to Y/n, who has her brow raised.

“Yes, I’m a Gryffindor,” He says, somehow feeling ashamed to admit that in front of them. He’s never been ashamed of being a Gryffindor, but these bloody purebloods make him feel like he should be ashamed.

“Pity,” Y/n chimes in, venom lacing her voice.

“Y/n is a Slytherin,” Lydia beams. “Making prefect next year.” She says, almost a brag. She goes to Hogwarts? Sirius feels as if he would have recognized her. Apparently not. 

Walburga, Lydia and Y/n chat for a while, Sirius eventually moving back behind his mother once more, wanting to keep out of the conversation. They were talking about Y/n’s accomplishments, apparently she was a painter and made most of the paintings littered along the walls of their house. Sirius must admit it’s a lot more lively than his own. Instead of the walls being decorated with blacks and greys, the walls are painted dark green and the walls are adorned with hanging plants, pictures, paintings and all sorts of decorations and memorabilia. 

Of course, Sirius takes his mothers distraction as a ticket to walk away. He socializes with a few people, those he deems more interesting than his dear mother. Eventually, Bellatrix, his cousin, decides to spoil what little fun he was having by intentionally poking and prodding. Sirius likes to say he doesn’t have a short temper, and usually he doesn’t, but he has very little tolerance for slander about his friends of any kind.

He snaps at his cousin, and she pulls out her wand, causing a scene. After a nasty curse, he is on the ground holding his stomach in pain. Walburga is next to the scene, scolding Sirius for causing a scene.

“What seems to be the matter?” Lydia pushes through the crowd.

“I must apologize for Sirius. He isn’t the most well mannered child,” She spits through gritted teeth. Lydia looks at Sirius, a split second of pity is seen on her features before it being covered up by a hard exterior.

“No mind him,” she waves it off before turning her attention towards his cousin. “No hexing in my house,” She says sternly. Some other commotion goes on and the crowd dissipates as people whisper to one another, before returning to their conversations. 

Y/n walks over to him, standing in front of the spot he was still on the floor, his hand clinging to his stomach.

“Can you walk?” She asks harshly. He stands up quickly, regretting the decision and wincing at the pain. He composes himself, looking down at her.

“Im fine, thank you,” She nodded politely, just wanting to continue going about his business of conversing with anyone he could to make it through the night. He turns around to leave before Y/n pipes up once again.

“That was a nasty curse she threw at you,” He turns around at her words. He looks at her face, which bears no emotion, “You're not fine.”

“Just a scratch is all,” He waves it off.

“Come with me,” She demands, walking past him and towards an empty hallway. Sirius debates following her or not. After a moment, he makes his way through a crowd of people, many of whom scoff or jump out of his way as he passes through. He wanders down the hallway and up the stairs. He isn’t quite sure where she has gone, but he has to eventually find her. He notices an open door with the lights on, slicking out like a sore thumb in the dim hallway. He leans the doorway, watching Y/n standing on her toes, looking for something in the tall cupboard.

“Need a hand?” He offers, which makes Y/n turn her head to the side, before looking right back at the cupboard. She pulls down a glass bottle.

“Sit down,” She uses her foot to pull out a stand before pouring a small cup from the bottle. She shoves it into his hands. “Drink up,” She says as he sits down.

“What exactly is it?” He quirked an eyebrow. 

“Healing Drought,” she nodded. “It’ll help,” Y/n simply explained. Sirius looks down at the drink before chugging it down. He winces at the taste, but gets it all down. “You know you could just pretend.”

“Excuse me?” Sirius asks, looking up at her. She's leaning back against the counter.

“You could pretend,” She shrugs, seeming less stern than before. As if she dropped her mask.

“Pretend to do what?” She quirks an eyebrow, noticing the pain on his stomach slowly starts to dissipate. 

“Pretend you're like them. Stay quiet when they say things you don’t like. It’s not hard.” She furrowed her eyebrows, as if it's obvious. “Keeps you out of trouble and then when the hags are dead, you get all their money,” She shrugs. Her accent is thick and noticeable. Sirius has always liked French accents.

“It's not exactly that simple,” he raises an eyebrow. Curious why she's saying all of this.

“How so?”

“My mother and father will see right through any act I put on,” He says carefully, not knowing how much he should give away.

“Your mother found me charming,” She smirks, pushing herself up onto the counter, swinging her legs back and forth. Sirius furrows his brows in confusion. Y/n sighs.

“Mum and I pretend to get on good with the other purebloods to get information. All of these families are into some shady shit,” She shrugs. She really opened up to him. That could have easily been a horrible mistake on her part. If anyone else had heard that, and had told, Y/n and her mother could be in serious danger. He knew what his family was capable of, and getting rid of the L/n’s would be a simple task for the lot of them.

“You don’t even know who I am,” Sirius asks, concerned about his features.

“I know enough about you. Everyone knows who you are.” She shrugs. He forgot for a moment that she is also a student at Hogwarts.

“I’ve never noticed you before.”

“I keep to myself mostly, converse with people in my own house, keep out of trouble. Basically the opposite of everything you do,” She smirks.

“Hm, what would you do if I talked to you at school then,” he smirks in return.

“I think it could be good for your image to have a friend that your mother approves of,”

“You did say my mother found you charming,” She sits up from the counter and comes over to him. She moves her hand towards his stomach, but stops, glancing up as if she was asking if it was okay. He moves his arms away from his stomach, silently letting her inspect. She finds the torn fabric that he never had even noticed, and grabs her wand, muttering a spell under her breath and his blouse sews itself up on its own.

“Thank you, by the way,” he looks down at her, finally getting a good look at her face. She is quite beautiful. The way her hair frames on her face, and the slight imperfections on her skin. Maybe she really did have a point. If he held out a little longer then he could get everything. It would also be a lot easier if he had someone like her in his corner. Someone who was charming and well mannered in front of his mother, yet kind and open around him. He wants to get to know everything about her. Something about her is quite intriguing.

“It's nothing,” She stands up, once the spell is complete, and goes back to her spot on the counter adjacent to him. “Really,” She offered him a kind smile. They sit in a comfortable silence for a minute before she gets up and offers him a hand off of the stool. He takes it and they return back to the foyer. He walks behind her, and he can almost see her mask go up and she readjusts herself to look more proper the moment they return from the staircase. She goes over to a counter and grabs two glasses of red wine, handing one to Sirius.

“As long as your mother won't mind,” she sips from her glass, her posh accent returning once again.

“My mother doesn’t quite care,” he takes a sip from his as well. The two of them stand in the corner, just getting to know each other. While no one was looking, she still kept up her upright posture and polite mannerisms, but her voice was dripping with humour. They discussed their favourite books, music (Sirius was pleasantly surprised to hear she has a collection of muggle records), events that have happened at Hogwarts. Sirius comes to learn she sat behind him in potions back in fourth year. She talked about her paintings, her cats, and France. Sirius got to learn quite a lot about her in the span of two hours at the party. While the music playing was quite dry, and the conversations they overheard were the same, they kept themselves entertained, while keeping up manners, mostly to leave a good impression on Walburga.

“Sirius, we must get going!” Walburga approaches. Only then do the two of them notice the Witches and Wizards slowly dissipating. 

“Yes mother,” Sirius looks towards his mother, then back towards Y/n. She offers him her hand and he takes it, bowing down and planting a kiss to her knuckles. “It’s been a pleasure Ms. L/n,” He offered her a smirk and a wink, both of which were out of sight of his mothers watchful eyes.

“The pleasure is all mine Mr. Black,” She curtseys politely. She walks them to their front and bids them goodbye, as well as the rest of the guests. Once everyone had officially gone, both Y/n and her mother had dropped their masks. Lydia falls back dramatically onto the sofa, while y/n sprawls out on the loveseat.

“Posh purebloods are such a bore!” Her mother complains.

“At least they’re neat,” Y/n shrugs, unable to hide the ear to ear smile that she had to suppress during the party.

“I don’t feel like cleaning up right now, Help me in the morning will you,” Her mother yawned.

“Yeah, I'll help,” She sighs.

“What are you smiling about?” Her mother sits up and furrows her eyebrows.

“I made a friend,” Y/n smirks.

“That why I barely saw you all night?” She raises an eyebrow. “Who exactly?”

“Sirius, Walburga's son,”

“The one who got cursed?” Y/n nods.

“Thought you said you wouldn’t want to make friends?”

“He’s different,” She says simply, shrugging.

“How is he different?”

“He’s like us,” Y/n references her and her mothers views on, well, most of the things those pureblood families agree on. Clearly her mother gets it because she nods, as if she's in thought, before standing up.

“I’m going to bed now,” she says and Y/n stands up, giving her mom a big hug. “I’m glad you made friends today darling. It’ll make these bloody parties a little less miserable for you.” She smiles and heads up to bed. “I love you darling!” She yells from the staircase. Y/n peaks her head around the corner.

“Love you too mummy!” She says dramatically before sitting back down on the loveseat, picking up her book and reading by the fireplace until she hears the clock chime twelve. She stands up, yawning, ready to go to bed, when an owl suddenly appears at the window.

She goes over to the window, opens it and the owl leaves a black envelope before immediately flying away. The h/c haired girl shuts the window and looks at the letter. She can make out the shiny black lettering addressed to her on its matching matte black paper. 

“Who puts black on black?” She mutters to herself tiredly. She takes the letter upstairs and enters her room. The room is adorned with hanging plants and expensive wood furniture, along with an easel and painting supplies on a shelf on the opposite side of her canopy bed. She changes into her pajamas, which is pretty much just a Queen band shirt. She flops down onto her bed, ripping open the letter. She pulls out a (thankfully light) piece of parchment.

Dearest Y/n,

It was quite the pleasure to be graced with your company this evening. You seemed to have left a good impression on mother, she's been raving about how she wishes she had a daughter all night. Thinks I would have turned out differently if I were born the opposite sex. I definitely wouldn't have been, mind you. Anyways, I really enjoyed myself, and I hope to see you again before the beginning of September. I do not think my mother will take issue with me visiting or you visiting my house, as long as you want to, that is. I would also like to mention that when we return to Hogwarts, I would love it if you would accompany me to Hogsmeade one evening. I know I have a reputation as a Casanova, of sorts, but that does not mean I treat any woman with even a small bit less respect than they deserve.

Anyways, I am looking forward to seeing you again.

Love,

Sirius Black

She holds the letter in her hands, her cheeks glowing pink as she falls backwards into her bed, placing the letter back into its envelope and neatly onto her bedside table. While the letter was short and sweet, it still was able to make her blush. She imagined seeing him again and she got all giddy, kicking her feet a little. She’s never really had a boy been interested in her. She’s been on dates, but none of them seemed to take any real interest outside of the hard exterior she puts up. 

She’s also had experience with other elements to romance, like kissing, and other such activities. She might not get out much, but that doesn’t mean she doesn’t get out at all. It was quite awkward her first time, she wasn’t quite sure what to do. Her partner at the time did not make it much easier for that matter.

Eventually, she stops swooning over a man she had just met that evening and shut off her light and went to sleep. In the morning she wrote back, and the two of them decided to meet the next weekend, constantly lettering each other throughout the day. The two met up several times throughout the rest of the summer, usually him going to hers, and watching him fawn over her record collection. They had spent an entire day once just listening to all of the records that Sirius didn’t have. He only gets his from his cousin Andromeda, who he doesn’t really see that often. The few times she went off to his place, she had to put up her mask, which Sirius found a bit upsetting, but at least this way his mother would continue to approve of their friendship.

The two had planned to meet each other at the station on their way to Hogwarts come September, the station was quite crowded, and Sirius had quickly been drawn in by seeing his friends once again. 

“Oh Prongs, she’s absolutely unbelievable!” Sirius fawns, sitting next to James in the train compartment.

“Oh yeah, I imagine she is,” James jokes, seemingly not believing Sirius met a girl who they’ve never heard of before who is secretly trying to infiltrate the sacred twenty eight, and happens to be Sirius’ perfect girl.

“I’m serious! Moony please believe me!” He turns to his other friend.

“I dunno Padfoot, seems a little too good to be true,” At this point, Sirius believes his friends are just trying to get under his skin.

“I believe you Sirius!” Peter responds enthusiastically. While Peter usually agrees with anything he or James said, Sirius still takes it as a win.

“Thank you Peter!” Sirius beams.

Sirius kept his eye out for her familiar face when the train stopped and students started to head towards the carriages. Even at the feast in the great hall, Sirius wasn’t able to find her. There are quite a lot of students here at Hogwarts so Sirius isn’t too surprised, but it's still annoying that they haven’t seen each other. Only when he and his friends are heading back towards the Gryffindor common room does he recognize her voice booming throughout the almost empty halls.

“Sirius!” She spots him up ahead. She had noticed him leaving the great hall and quickly finished her pudding before rushing to catch up to him, wanting to see him before he retreated to the Gryffindor common room for the night. He whips around. So do his friends and a few other people in the nearly empty halls, but the big smile on his face is all she cares about at the moment.

“Hey!” he greets excitedly as she runs up to him, a little out of breath.

“Missed you at the station,” She teases.

“You saw how busy it was,” he laughs. “Still upset I didn’t get to see you earlier though,”

“What classes do you have?” She asks and and they pull out the schedule, beginning to converse about some of the classes they have together. The sound of someone clearing their throat draws the both of them towards the rest of the Marauders.

“Oh! Yes.” Sirius puts his schedule away, and Y/n follows suit. “This is Y/n,” He gestures towards the girl whose face is adorned with a large friendly smile.

“Pleasure to officially meet the lot of you,” She greets. On the surface, she had admitted to herself that she acts more like she should be in Hufflepuff, or even Gryffindor, with her seemingly bubbly personality and kind face. She wasn’t surprised when she was sorted into Slytherin all those years ago, and is constantly reminded of why when she spends a lot of her life hidden away behind a mask. A mask she quite likes. Makes her a better liar and a thief. She has a knack for mischief, but unlike some Gryffindors, she leaves the scene of the crime without anyone even knowing there was any mischief being committed.

She truly lives up to the conventional Slytherin cunningness.

“To be perfectly honest, we thought Sirius was making you up,” Remus says, being brutally honest, which earns a subtle shove from James.

“Well I’m glad I could help Sirius prove you wrong… Anyways,” She turns back to Sirius, adjusting her prefect’s badge. “I must get going, I don't want to leave Charles waiting.” She bids goodbye. She’s about to take off once more before Sirius catches her wrist.

“Not even going to let me say goodbye?” he smirks.

“I really do have to get going,” she smiles warmly.

“I know, I know, you’re a prefect after all.” She moved right up in front of him, before standing on her toes and leaving a kiss on his cheek. She slips her wrist from his grasp before running off in the direction she came from.

“Bye Sirius!” She turns around for a moment, before heading towards the dungeons, knowing full well she left Sirius a blushing mess.

Over the next week, the two are so busy with school and Y/n’s prefect duties to speak to each other outside of the class they shared. After potions class one day, he tried to talk to her, but she was quickly swept away by a group of first years who needed help finding one of their classes. Finally, that Friday night, he ‘borrowed’ James’ cloak and snuck out, trying to find her on patrol. He eventually spotted her patrolling around the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom. He decided to give her a scare, and revealed himself suddenly from under the cloak. 

She let out a loud yelp, and covered her mouth. “What are you doing here!?” She scolds.

“I wanted to see you,” She says, smugly. The sound of quick approaching footsteps forces Sirius to hide under the cloak as the other Slytherin prefect runs around the corner.

“What's the matter?!” He asks worriedly, his eyes darting around the corridor. Y/n whips around to where Sirius had been, relieved to find him ‘gone’, turns back around.

“Nothing, was just Mrs. Norris sneaking up on me,” She waves it off.

“I don’t see Mrs. Norris,” he looks around. Y/n panics for a moment trying to think up an excuse.

“Must have spooked her when I yelled,” she shrugs. Charles just waves her off, annoyed, and heads back into his area. Once the coast is clear, Sirius laughs become audible as he removes the cloak once again. She punches his arm.

“You're lucky I like you or else I would give you detention with Filch!” She scolds quietly. He suppresses a laugh at her anger, finding it quite amusing.

“It's a good thing you like me then,” She says with a cocky smirk, taking a step towards Y/n.

“If I get caught with you I could get in serious trouble,” She crosses her arms. “And that will ruin my reputation of being Mummy's perfect little girl,” She rolls her eyes at her own comment.

“Oh why of course your excellency,” He bows down in front of her, planting a kiss gently on her knuckles. “Your reputation truly does proceed you,” he jokes in a posh accent.

“So what exactly is it that you want?” She crosses her arms sternly.

“Are you busy tomorrow?” He asks, and she quirks an eyebrow.

“No,” She says simply.

“Then would you be so kind as to accompany me to Hogsmeade tomorrow evening?” He asks and her stern expression fades into a playful smile.

“Are you finally making an attempt to court me?” She smirks. A red blush crosses his face at her directness. A thought nagging at him.

“Have you been expecting me to court you?”

“Yes,”

“Then I’m attempting to court you,”

“And I would be more than happy to accompany you.”

Like a gentleman, he picks her up from outside the Slytherin common room, drawing in the attention of many Slytherins around there. The sound of Sirius and Y/n’s laughter as they leave the dungeon drowns out the sound of scowls and whispering amongst many of the Slytherins. By the time they reach the small village, it's already five. They wander up and down the streets, dragging each other around when they see something interesting on the display case of a shop. 

“Oh my!” She moans, taken aback by the taste of a cupcake from a bakery. “This is wonderful!” She takes another small bite.

“I’m starting to think you might like that cupcake more than me,” Sirius jokes. Y/n takes a step closer to him, a seductive hint in her eye.

“You're cute,” She says, staring at his face, taking it all in, before dipping her finger in the icing of her cupcake and quickly dapping it onto his nose. She laughs as he takes a startled step back. He used his finger to wipe it off his nose, before sucking the icing from the side of his finger.

“Well that’s not very nice, now is it?” He teases, a mischievous glint in his eyes. They have already had dinner and the sun has set, so the village is beautifully lit by lanterns in the streets.

“Well I shared some of my icing with you, I would call that nice,” She says, before taking the last bite of cupcake.

“I suppose you're right.” He plays along. She turns around, wanting to admire the castle and how the lights from the windows light it up during the night time. Sirius slowly comes up beside her, placing his hand on her back. She looks over, and then decides to lean her head on his shoulder. They stare up at the castle for a while longer, before Y/n turns towards him, grabbing his face in her hands. She stares at his face, her gaze flicking down to his lips. Sirius brings his hand up to brush a stray hair back into place before she pulls his face towards hers.

His arms wrap around her waist, while her hands remain on the side of his head. When they break apart, she leans her head on his shoulder, with her hands moving down to his shoulders as well.

“I really had a lot of fun tonight,” She says softly.

“So did I,”

[chishiyae]

— OUT WITH A BANG ! [𝙛𝙚𝙖𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜] e42! miles morales, e1610!miles morales, spider noir, and hobie brown

𝙧𝙚𝙫𝙞𝙚𝙬 ┊ summer is coming to an end, which means carnivals are making their final rounds before closing for good. so, what better way to round off the summer than to take your lover to one?

a/n. — this is literally just me coping with the fact summer is ending (+ i ran out of motivation for hobie guys i’m so sorry)

E42!MILES, will never be that boyfriend who spends a lot of money (whether he has it or not) on carnival games. let alone spend an hour trying to win you a stuffed animal. if he doesn't win whatever you want in the first two tries, he'll just ask the stand worker if he can buy it from them. now, as ridiculous as it may sound, given the amount of money he offers on the spot, the workers sometimes just give in. rather having free money than a stuffed animal. you hate the fact that he bribes his way of getting it. you could’ve gone to build a bear if you wanted him to buy you a stuffed animal. but you didn't want that; you brought him to the carnival for a reason. for bonding time. and playing games together was apart of that. but did you intend to tell him? no. because it’d look like you’re forcing it, so you stated that bribery wouldn’t work (until it did). and if that were to happen, because miles can't let things go, a conversation can go something like this:

“told you i’d get it, princesa,” miles brags. he’s walking alongside you, a smirk on his face as he watches you holding your stuffed bear.

you just shake your head, choosing not to say anything to him. that way, you avoid giving him any form of satisfaction. the satisfaction of anything. even kissing if it came down to it.

he nudges your arm, and you just glare at him. he put up his hands in defense, saying, "my bad.”

you sigh, “c’mon, we need to go to the ticket booth.”

miles just snorts, resting a hand on your shoulder.

other than that, he really only comes for the food. he loves funnel cakes, and he'd carry your stuff while you went from ride to ride or game to game while he ate and watched.

not that he doesn't go on rides; it just depends on how he feels. he has unhealthy urges to feel the drop of his stomach on some days, but not on others. if you ask him enough times on a day when he doesn't want to go, he'll give in, but will give you the option of him going on that or the ferris wheel. he's not doing both.

E1610!MILES, spends half of his time at the carnival focused on the goldfish you won. making sure that it’s not knocked over or pushed around too much. it's better to go home at that point. because the longer you stay, he'll just rant about the fish needing a tank and wanting to get it out of the bag.

prior to the fish, he'd been really excited to go with you to the carnival. you two definitely planned this a week in advance so that he could make sure that his time was free, so he's been thinking about it nonstop for the past week.

after he waves goodbye to his parents, your hand is instantly grabbed and you two run to the rides together (him dragging you), and the rest is history.

i say that because the next hour ends in throw up. miles goes on every ride possible, so it's not just a small amount of vomit in his throat that he can swallow. it's a lot more than that. not exactly a pleasant memory, especially given the stares he received when he had his head hanging over a trash can. but it's all good, at least you two got to relax for a minute before getting up to play carnival games. a break is always helpful.

or maybe you should’ve stayed put and relaxed a little longer. maybe you wouldn't have ended up at the fish prize game that way. miles seemed to be more interested with the fish than with you…

SPIDERNOIR, is confused — but acts collected. the. entire. time. he might not show it, but he’s confused.

for starters, this would be the first time he'd ever been to a carnival that wasn't all live music and exotic animals; after all, it isn't the 1930s. he'd be sent to modern times (your dimension), where most games are rigged and rides need a little more attention and caution than is given.

he was wary of the rides once you explained how they operated. not only because of how they looked, but also because of a few incidences you told him about (you really should've left that part out). so he tried everything to keep you from getting on one. when you walked? he'd put his hand around your shoulder so that whenever he spotted a ride, he could walk the other way, dragging you along with him. he’s just trying to keep you safe. if you love carnival rides, you'd notice his actions and end up going on a ride against his will. after all, you didn't buy those tickets for nothing. he'd hold your stuff and wait for you just by the iron bars, eyes tracking your every move. when you get off, his hand is back over your shoulder, and he decides that under any circumstances, he isn't letting go.

instead, you'd spend the rest of your time at carnival games. somewhere that peter feels he can protect you. but you don't mind, not with him playing darts against you. he'd let you win only to watch you smile and brag about it, because if he didn't, he'd win, and that's not much of a prize, now is it?

gift giving is one of his love languages, and you can guarantee he’ll get you one here. he tries to win everything you want, and even after he's won you a couple of bears, he brings you flowers from the ground as something extra to give you. yeah. i’d call it a romantic act. it's like something out of a movie.

HOBIE, is in love with the rush of riding rollercoasters. that being said, he drags you on all the rides, and it's best not to ask questions because he'll just say, "the rides ain’t even scary, they ain’t got scary ones here." or “i’ll be righ’ by ya side, love.” when it comes down to it, if you really don't want to go on one, he won't make you. however, he will go on them by himself while you watch. then, when he gets off, he'll tell you all about his thoughts and feelings during the ride. you merely roll your eyes when he suggest you should've gone.

because it's packed, a hand is on your waist the entire time you two are walking, and he’s positioned behind you. if he thinks you're walking too fast, he'll pull your belt loops to get you closer. he's does it to keep you from being lost in the crowd, but he can't stop himself from lingering his fingers over the waistband of your jeans.

© 2023, CHISHIYAE

[callsign-phoenix]

I simply wrote this because I got the idea, I hope you like it!

It is a Pete ‘Maverick’ Mitchell x female!reader imagine.

Thank you @footprintsinthesxnd for proofreading!

Warnings: cursing, allusions to smut

You had never quite been the center of attention at Navy dinners, not like your older sister.

Penny was gorgeous and just the right amount of flirtatious, and with you being the daughters of Admiral Benjamin her desirability only heightened tenfold.

You had never been too popular with the Navy men and you were grateful for it, knowing just how much trouble they could be.

Nevertheless you liked going to the Navy functions your dad invited you to because you liked to look at the young gorgeous men gathered around the table.

You weren’t as limited as them as to how to dress so you took some liberties, you didn’t dress as daring as your older sister but definitely daring enough.

You didn’t know if you wanted to attend another celebratory dinner because you were always a little left out and lonely, but as you said you liked people watching so you didn’t mind.

As expected your older sister got most of the attention, which your dad didn’t like, but at least he knew you knew how to behave yourself.

You were happily behaving yourself when a young man approached you, with a wide grin and eyes that gleamed with humor and mischief.

“You’re looking awfully lonely tonight,” he spoke out and you had to take a look around to realize that he was talking to you.

It took you a few seconds to reply, because you had to come to terms with the fact that a gorgeous sailor had approached you without being forced to lead a conversation with you.

“Are you a shy one?” He went on, chuckling as he moved a bit closer and leaning against the wall with his arm propped up against it.

It was intimidating but also strangely thrilling and attractive, and the fact that his eyes didn’t leave your face only entranced you further.

“I could keep you company tonight if you’d like,” he said in a low voice as another crooked grin appeared on his face, showing his big and bright front teeth as well as the sparkle in his eyes.

“I’m Maverick, section leader of my squadron of fighter pilots, it’s a pleasure to meet you, doll, but as much as I like to hear myself speak I’d like to know more about you too,” he continued, and your eyes searched the room to find your dad in deep conversation with one of his fellow admirals.

You reached out to shake his hand and introduced yourself, deciding to throw all caution into the wind and try to enjoy yourself.

“Benjamin, as in Admiral Benjamin?” He asked and his smile faltered just a little, which made you grin at him for the first time since you met him.

That grin was the reason why Maverick decided to risk it all, redoubling his efforts and broadening his smile again.

“Well, Miss Benjamin, how about I get you a drink? Daddy wouldn’t mind, would he?” He asked as he leaned even closer, you could feel his breath brush your mouth and yor eyes lowered to glance at his lips, which were still tugged upwards playfully.

“Daddy doesn’t have to know,” you answered purposely choosing the same word he had, just to rile him up.

Maverick chuckled and disappeared, telling you that he’d be back as quickly as possible.

He did indeed like to talk but over the course of the evening he got a little more handsy, taking the liberty to hold you by your waist or stroke your cheek whenever the opportunity presented itself.

You could honestly say that you loved the way he held you and what he had to say, even if he bragged a little more than necessary.

It was charming and by the end of the night you were ready to go however far he’d like to go as well, your father entirely erased from your mind.

Maverick pulled you by your wrist when the dinner had officially ended and you found a spot that was a little more secluded in another room, with your lips immediately latching onto his when he closed the door.

You were absolutely entranced by him, his smile, his smell and the way his hands felt on your body, following him when he pressed you backwards against a desk, jumping onto it so he could stand between your legs.

Maverick’s hands roamed your back, from your shoulder blades down to the crease of your ass through your dress and you grew more and more breathless, holding onto him and letting desperate moans fall from your lips.

You were so far gone that you didn’t hear your father call your name nor Commander Jardian, whom your father had apparently asked to help look for you.

Maverick’s fingers just enclosed around the zipper on the back of your dress when the door opened and the lights went on, making you and Maverick jump apart immediately.

Your hair and dress was in disarray and so was Maverick’s and his dress uniform, the first few buttons opened and the end of his belt tucked out of his trousers so that you could open it.

You were breathless when you glanced at the door to find Tom, one of your father’s friends look at you in utter disbelief.

Your eyes fell to the floor in shame and Stinger closed the door taking a deep breath before his face and the rest of his bald head turned a deep and unhealthy shade of red.

“Missy, I’m not even going to start with you because you’re not my responsibility but if I see you in another situation like this I will alert your father,” he told you sternly, his breathing got increasingly heavy as he tried to keep his calm, but that failed once his eyes turned to Maverick.

“And you, Mitchell, you just lost yourself your qualifications as section leader! I expected better from the both of you but you can be lucky I won’t strip you of your fucking wings!” He shouted, his anger evident, which had both you and Maverick shrinking in shame.

Stinger had made his way into the room further and he was staring Maverick down as if he wanted to end him, which would have looked funny had you not had part fault in the situation.

“I’ll leave and you’ll sure as fuck follow me quickly, before I forget myself,” he continued and you were sure you saw some spit landing on Maverick’s face, but he didn’t move a muscle.

Tom once again glanced at you before he stormed outside, purposely not bothering to close the door.

There was a moment of silence between the two of you before Maverick spoke again, giving you a cocky grin and reaching for a pen beside you.

He scribbled something down before he gave the piece of paper to you, looking at you intensely and leaning in to give you another quick kiss to the lips.

“This is my number, use it,” he winked, before he exited the room and left you dazed and breathless by yourself.

When Maverick and Goose were called in after the stunt Mav pulled while saving Cougar Maverick knew he was going to be in trouble, but he tried to stay positive.

You had called him the next day and despite Stinger’s warnings Maverick had kept seeing you, keeping you his little secret, even from his RIO.

Commander Jardian continued to drone on about discipline and then addressed Mav directly.

“You’ve been busted, you lost your qualifications as section leader three times. Put in hack twice by me. With a history of high-speed passes over five air-control towers and one admiral’s daughter,” he exclaimed, to which Goose turned to Mav shortly.

“Penny Benjamin?” He questioned in a whisper, but Maverick swiftly shook his head.

“Her little sister,” he whispered with a grin that prompted raised eyebrows from Goose, but both was erased by Stinger continuing his banter.

Maverick didn’t let anyone tell him what to do, and he liked you far too much to let a bald choleric convince him otherwise.

A challenge that would soon arise to your newly formed relationship was that you got to know that he had slept with your sister multiple times before meeting you, but Maverick was hopeful that you wouldn’t pay that any mind.

part two

tagging: @starkleila @mayhem24-7forever @green-socks @letsfvckingdance @shadeds-library @a-reader-and-a-writer @yespolkadotkitty @whateverbagman @neptunes-curse @sweetheartlizzie07 @top-gun-rooster @iloveprettyboysblog @ateliefloresdaprimavera @imjess-themess @littlebadariell @angstyjellybean @marchingicenotes7 @midget713 @supernaturaldawning @gspenc @adorephina @gigisimsonmars @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy @bespinnn @malindacath @aerangi @kassieesworld @kwanimations @18crazybutcutealsopsycho @marvelandotherfandomimagines @luckyladycreator2 @mavericksicybabe @kendra-rose @desert-fern @mavrellover91 @allivingstone01 @rhettabbotts @withakindheartx @trikigirl271 @cherrycola27 @bonitanightmxres @ratcatcher2world @glowingtree @wingmanvenus

(please tell me if you want to be added to the taglist, or use this link)

[shallowcrypts]

Avoidants are unfairly demonized.

And you know what? I’m sick of seeing anxious-attached folks being treated as if they’re fully the victim and totally blameless.

They just cannot ever admit that they might make mistakes, especially serious ones. Can't apologize. Self righteous as hell, and so, so blaming. It's such bullshit. It’s so often that the avoidant partner is forced to take “accountability” for whatever the issue and the AP gets to be relieved that its “not them” and they don’t have to look at their own outrageous behavior that may have contributed to the original issue.

AP’s get all the sympathy because they are usually the loudest, therefore we all have to center around their feelings. It's not that the avoidants DON’T want help, it's avoidants are more likely to avoid and if someone doesn't like conflict and the AP is constantly having a temper tantrum... so who is going to get heard? Have the most attention to their problems?

I was recently talking to a friend about couples therapy with her avoidant partner & even in listening I could tell that she didn't realize how much she dominated the therapy sessions, while simultaneously complaining he wasn't there enough. When he finally broke down and cried about something she had said, her response? You've never cried about that before but it bothers you NOW?

And that’s the thing, it's never good enough for APs. It is hard to be a person when an AP is suffocating the room, and it's easier for them to blame avoidants because we are the only people who will continually put up with their shit, because we ignore it and somehow they are the victims in that too. The goal post is forever changing with them, and nothing is ever good enough. They complain and put pressure on to be, think, feel a certain way and when you manage to come close, you're still somehow in the wrong. I would rather shove everything down and suffer silently than possibly trigger an AP into an episode because THAT is pure psychological torture.

And don’t even get me started about how they then proceed to be the "humble brags" of self-work:

"I just have too big of a heart and I over-give because I'm too generous.”

If all the APs I've known ACTUALLY took accountability it'd sound like:

"I make comments with the intention of making you feel ashamed and guilty so that in your diminished self-worth you might be insecure enough to come to me. Maybe if you're upset we can have a conversation or emote at each other, which is a form of connection, so I force that since I can't force you do do whatever I want at any given moment. I push and push and push and push you so that when you break A) again, I can feel the connection that comes with conflict, at least, and B) I can feel victimized by how 'mean' you are by finally breaking at my prodding. I do not ever stop to consider how this might be tanking your life and our relationship... because I always find a way to blame you for that. I have the audacity to purport to know what your problems are and your inner work should be, and though I'm begging you to open up to me, I don't listen when you do. I just cry because whatever you say scares me, and my fear is still ultimately more important than any of your experiences." APs don't "care" anymore than Avoidants as a default, though they may try too hard, sure.

The issue is that the “I care too much" gets recognized as "and that causes problems for ME” and they're like "oh look I'm taking accountability!" But they never get to the part about how them "caring too much" caused problems for OTHERS and they never want to earnestly apologize. Their behavior can be seriously, seriously, damaging to be on the other end of.

"I'm impatient, have unrealistic expectations, and I over-perform for love. I'm going to work on this with my therapist because I'm realizing now how this is backfiring and causing me pain."

^That would be accountability.

[aloeverified]

i’m curiousss do u have any hcs abt bowie and lightnings interactions and stuff as brothers bc i’m rotating them in my head

omg i've been meaning to make headcanons for the new cast, so i'll use this to start me off 😼

lightning was 16 during tdroti, which took place about two years after total drama started if i remember correctly — so i think the two of them have a twelve year age gap with lightning currently being twenty-nine and bowie being seventeen.

bowie is constantly making jokes about lightning about to be turning thirty and how his hair is gonna go gray — it always terrifies lightning despite him literally having white hair.

"bowie" is a nickname meaning blond, which lightning started calling him and then the rest of the family and bowie's friends caught on and it stuck.

speaking of which — he decided to dye his hair blond to look more like his older brother, who he's always viewed as his idol.

despite their age gap, they're pretty close. lightning was extremely excited to have a younger brother and constantly yammered on about all the sports they were gonna play together.

when bowie was too little to actually play with lightning, he simply cheered on his big brother. lightning would take bowie to his football games and have him hangout with the cheerleaders, bragging about how his little brother motivates him more than any cheer team could.

lightning used to tease bowie about how he got to hang around with pretty cheerleaders all day... turns out, bowie was more interested in the uniforms than the girls!

bowie's parents always suspected he was queer. he liked playing in his mom's makeup and would have fashion shows in her clothes and heels. lightning was the only one who didn't catch on to that; which made bowie coming out to him the biggest shock of his life. after a bit of explaining on bowie's part about his feelings and everything, lightning burst into tears upon realizing his little brother choose him to be the first person he came out to.

lightning helped explain things to their dad since both of them knew he could be a bit stubborn and understanding at times. lightning was fully ready to have bowie move in with him (as he was already in his mid-twenties at this point) if anything went south, but their family was very loving and accepting of bowie.

they go to pride every year together, sometimes with their parents or some of bowie's friends.

bowie finds it a bit suspicious how lightning seems to study other men in the gym sometimes, but he keeps his theories to himself.

same as lightning, bowie is also very athletic. his best sport is track due to how tall and agile he is. the two of them would go on morning runs everyday whenever lightning was on break from university. lightning encouraged him to join the cheerleaders squad, but bowie declined due to "how gossipy those girls are." they then went into a two hour conversation where lightning told bowie about all the crazy shit the cheerleaders who would babysit him would do, and how, "cheerleaders are all evil. that's why you'd be a perfect one!"

bowie was about four when lightning went away for total drama, and he was absolutely terrified everytime he turned on the tv to see his brother being put in life-or-death challenges. his mother used to have to put him to bed everynight and assure him that his big brother was okay.

he still remembers how proud he was when he saw lightning make it to the finale.

if the two of them were ever fighting, lightning would force them to settle it with an arm wrestle since he knew he'd always win. this worked for a few years until bowie figured out the trick where you twist your opponents' wrist. lightning never understood how he always lost after that and eventually they found a new way to settle their disagreements.

lightning was having the craziest mood swings while watching the new season. on one hand, he was super proud of his brother, but on the other... WHO DOES HE THINK HE IS TO BE KISSING BOYS ALREADY? WHO DOES THAT GUY THINK HE IS TO BE MAKING MOVES ON HIS LITTLE BROTHER? TEENAGERS THESE DAYS—

anyways, lightning interrogated and scared the shit out of raj upon meeting him before completely falling in love with the sports loser he brother choose. bowie debated leaving the restaurant they were having dinner at just to see of they would notice or if they were too busy talking about the latest college hockey game to care.

lightning constantly brags about how the two of them made it to the finale in their first seasons on the show... too bad they shared the same outcome. whatever, lightning's a professional athlete so his brother doesn't need a million dollars — he makes that in a month.

[dialovers-translations]

Diabolik Lovers LOST EDEN ー Yuma Dark [10]

ー The scene starts in the living room of the Mukami manor

Yuma: ...Nn. It’s good. 

Yui: Thank god! I doubt it’s up to par with Ruki-kun’s cooking though...

Yuma: Nah. Yer cooking’s definitely not inferior to his. I’ll brag ‘bout it when we get back to Eden. 

Yui: ( I couldn’t help but notice he seemed a little down, but it seems like he’s feeling a bit better now. )

Yuma: Say. There’s one thing I’m kinda curious ‘bout tho.

Yui: Yes? 

Yuma: Kino has these crows that are always with him, right? Have ya also noticed there’s one odd bird amongst them?

Yui: Ah...Are you talking about the one always staring at you? I thought it was kind of strange too.

But that crow is actually a Ghoul...Right? Does that ring any bells?

Yuma: I think it’s strange ‘cause it doesn’t. I don’t know any Ghouls personally, nor can I think of any occasion where they might have seen me before.

Yui: I wonder if it wants to tell you something.

Yuma: Beats me. Oh well, I doubt it’s a big deal. Ah, can I eat that one too. 

Yui: Yeah, of course. ...Wait, ah! Yuma-kun, watch your elbow!

Yuma: Ah? ...Woah, shit!

*Thud* 

Yui: Are you alright?

Yuma: Yeah. I’m glad it was just the loaf of bread which fell and not one of the plates. ...There.

ー Yuma picks up the fallen bread

Yuma: It’s still perfectly edible afterwards after all...Nom nom.

Selection

→ Are you sure you don’t want me to get a fresh one? (❦)

Yui: Shouldn’t I go get you a fresh one?

Yuma: It’s fine, really. I can’t throw away food just ‘cause it fell on the floor.

→ That’s dirty! 

Yui: It’s dirty to eat things off the floor!

Yuma: It’s not. I know we haven’t been home in a while, but it’s not like the place is covered in dust.

Yuma: It’s way more hygienic compared to when I used to eat things right off the street.

Yui: I see...You grew up in the slums, didn’t you?

Yuma: Yeah. That’s why I have no issue eatin’ stuff which has fallen on the floor. Well, I guess Ruki would get on my case for it. 

Yui: I’m sorry if my question offends you but...Was it hard to live in such a place?

Yuma: It sure wasn’t easy. But it wasn’t just all bad times.

I got lucky and was picked up by a good guy.

Yui: Are you talking about your leader? 

Yuma: Yeah. He was called Lucks. Super reliable fella, honestly.

Of course, he had many other followers as well. And I was one of them.

We lived far from a luxurious, comfortable life, but we always stuck together, so every day was a blast. 

Yui: I see...

( Yuma-kun’s so admirable. Even though he should have gone through so much trouble, he can still think of those times as fun. )

Yuma: But...I couldn’t save my precious mates. I regret that to this day.

Yui: ...They all passed away, didn’t they?

Yuma: Yeah. My pals, as well as that place we spent time together...All of it was taken away by the army.

I no longer had my home, my memories or my family. And on top of that, I lost the city I lived in as well.

...I have no place I can call my hometown.

Yui: That’s why...You wanted to protect Eden, right?

Yuma: Yeah. That bein’ said, it’s not the building itself I want to keep safe. That’s just a bunch of bricks.

I just don’t want to lose another thing dear to me.

Never again do I want to forced to just stand there in silence...as things fade away right in front of my eyes.

Yui: ...

Yuma: ...My bad. The conversation kind of got dark, huh?

Yui: Oh no. Thank you for telling me.

I also...have to thank this Lucks person and your other friends.

Yuma: Hah? How so?

Yui: I mean, it’s only because they saved you, that I was ultimately able to meet you.

When I look at it like that, I honestly can’t thank them enough!

Yuma: ...Guess so. Without him and the others, I would have probably died somewhere along the road.

But still...In that case, I feel like I should thank ya instead.

Yui: Eh? 

Yuma: Nothin’. Anyway, seconds please!

Yui: Ah, yes! One second, please.

ー Yui walks away

Yuma: ...Because it’s only thanks to ya...that I can now feel glad that I actually survived back then.

Monologue

The words he whispered behind my back,

I faintly picked up on as well. 

Hearing those words, I once again thought to myself. 

I am truly glad to have Yuma-kun in my life.

I can no longer tell them in person,

but I want to thank this guy called Lucks (ルクス),

as well as his other friends (仲間) somehow. 

Thank you so much for saving him. 

And for allowing me to meet him ーー I’d say.

ーー TO BE CONTINUED ーー

[artzychic27]

More DuPont Cheer Squad Stuff Because This AU Is My New Baby

They did a challenge to see who could wear pigtails the best

Nino and Ivan bought wigs for such an occasion, but Austin A ended up winning

They're ALWAYS turning down people asking them out. Their responses range from-

Denise: I happen to be very happy with my boyfriend.

Cosette: Yeah, see, I don't want Zoé to be charged with your murder, so... Yeah.

Nathaniel: I'd step away nice and slow before my boyfriend, who is the captain of the soccer team, catches you flirting with me.

Ismael: Nope.

Ivan: My girlfriend will find a way to punt you.

Juleka: My girlfriend's been looking up ways to file her teeth into fangs to live out a certain fantasy of mine.

Austin A: Oh, honey, in your dreams.

Spinelli: You can't handle this.

Nino: Hey, if you want my girlfriend to kick your ass in a dark alley, okay.

Jean: Austin, mon amour! There are some people trying to flirt with your songbird!

The squad shares a TikTok

Austin A spams it with cringe posts

When the school was putting on Bring It On for the spring musical, they were immediately called to teach the actors a few routines… Only to have one of them break their leg

So now they’re in the musical, yay!

Spinelli and Austin A are just two dudes standing five feet apart because they’re not not queer

Cosette and Nath are just two bisexuals standing a foot apart and fist bumping because they are absolutely bi

Cosette and Nathaniel wear Zoé and Marc's letterman jackets. (Zoé plays volleyball)

Myléne cannot stop checking out Ivan in his uniform

Kim constantly dares Ivan to throw him… He just wants to see what it feels like

Rose is always playing with Juleka’s pigtails. They’re just so pretty!

Alya has no problem bragging that she’s dating a “totally hot cheerleader”. She drops into into conversations

Alya: This is Alya Césaire, here, live at the latest Akuma attack! Did I mention I am dating a totally hot cheerleader?

Austin T is like that, too… But louder. He has carried Jean on his shoulder

Austin T: To those who said it wouldn’t happen… Pucker your lips and kiss my thicc behind, because I am dating a cheerleader, and he is gorgeous, and can do the splits like a boss!

Reshma and Ismael are just two Aspecs chilling with cake because they’re Aro

They frequently get people (Chloé, Marinette, Lila) trying to join the squad for the wrong reasons

Chloé wants Jean’s position as captain, to get more popular students to join, boss people around, and get designer uniforms that will take forever to raise money for

Lila just wants to get on the squad, not do any of the work, flirt with athletes, and the moment she trips and falls because she didn’t stretch, shell just blame one of the other squad members

Marinette only wants to join so she can keep an eye on Lila, but she’ll get so distracted, mess up routines, eventually land someone she was supposed to catch in the hospital, and all so she can impress and flirt with Adrien since he’s on the basketball team

The squads answers to all of them after tryouts were…

Denise: No.

Cosette: I don’t think so.

Nathaniel: Never gonna happen.

Ismael: Come on, no.

Ivan: Uh… No… No.

Juleka: Sorry, but no.

Austin A: Ha! No!

Spinelli: Not a chance in hell.

Nino: Dude, no.

Jean: Away with you!

Damocles (Under threat from the mayor) forces them to let Chloé on the team, folded when Lila turned on the water works, and got greedy when Marinette offers to cater every school event for the rest of the year… For free.

But there’s no way in hell Jean is letting Chloé take his spot as captain! The HBIC crop top belongs to him!

Well, if they wanna join… They’ll let them join

Cue Elsy Vestures!

Elsy: These girls think they can just invade my squad, expecting what? Popularity? Guys? Attention? Whatever the hell blue hair wants? Ha! Well, then. If they wanna be cheerleaders, I’m gonna run them ragged all the way to hell and back.

So, before allowing them to become full time members of the squad, Elsy puts them through the wringer. Trust throws, trust catches, back breaking stretches, five mile runs at five in the morning, spontaneous backflips!… They don’t survive, and are turned away

Cue Mayor cutting funding

Cue Nath’s rich mobster grandparents providing all the funding they need and blackmailing the mayor

[blursed-ninjago-ideas]

Whumptober 2

Decided to let myself have some Kairro. It's been ages since I touched that AU and every time I do it feels self indulgent. Don't know why, a lot of people seem to really like it.

Prompt: "They don't care about you."

Randomly Selected Whumpee: Kai

Selection method: Asked a student I passed in the halls to choose a number.

TW: Blood mention, manipulation

--

“How many times do I have to beat you over the head with it!? They. Don’t. Care. About. You.” Morro snarled.

Kai raised his bloodied face and debated what comeback to use.

“I don’t know. How many times do I have to tell you that I’m not going to let you use your paranoia against me?” Kai said, his lip dripping wine red drops onto the concrete.

“They’re your abandonment issues.” Morro countered.

He was calming down and changing tactics. Probably realized that Kai’s temper had gotten the best of him again.

Morro made an excellent mirror to show Kai how ugly his anger could get if he didn’t control it.

“As if you didn’t have any of those yourself.” Kai laughed, wincing from the pain it caused him.

He just had to buy enough time for the others to find him. Nya was going to turn the whole room into a water park as soon as she saw Morro.

The trick was holding the line against the emotional manipulation. Hard to do when the manipulator lived in you head so long he left some of his things in the guest room.

“I left Wu, remember?” Morro said.

His smirk had Kai convinced he was looking at a mirror for a moment. It was to be expected. It went both ways after all.

Kai knew why Nya looked at him like a stranger sometimes. She never said anything about it, but Kai saw her every time she did it.

It had an effect.

Kai had slowly stopped bragging after Lloyd was forced to admit that he sounded more like Morro when he did it. When all of your friends get noticeably uncomfortable every time you get excited that you won a video game, you stop commenting on it.

Kai wondered how he used to sound when he would brag. How was it different? Did Morro get that trait, or did it disappear? Which one of them had “stronger” bragging mannerisms? If Morro got his way and they fuse, who would they sound like?

Would they sound like Kai when they told jokes? Would they keep that smirk, or would it disappear?

“And I never trusted anyone else long enough to get left behind.” Morro finished, yanking Kai from his thoughts.

He couldn’t think of a good retort. It had only been half a second, but Kai’s mind had wandered miles away from the conversation. It must’ve shown on his face, because Morro snarled again.

“I see you don’t have my focus.” Morro said sarcastically.

It wasn’t Kai’s sarcasm. It was a difference they still had.

Morro grabbed Kai’s face and dragged him up.

“Listen to me. They are waiting for the chance to get rid of you. You serve them now, but what happens when you get annoying? Too angry?”

Morro leaned in so close, Kai could smell the strange ghostly scent his spirit had.

“They will leave you.” he whispered.

“Like my parents?” Kai said with an eye roll.

He saw where Morro was going with it and he was sick of the line of thought.

“If the people biologically programmed to love you couldn’t manage it, why do you think they can?” Morro said as he dropped Kai.

Kai scrapped himself off the ground.

“Because they’re good people.”

“And your parents weren’t?” Morro said with a predatory grin.

Kai shivered and looked away, but he had thoroughly been caught off guard and didn’t have a response.

Just when he thought he had control of the conversation; that he had everything guarded, Morro came at him from an angle he didn’t think of and crawled under his armor. It was how it work from the very beginning.

“So, we agree he doesn’t ‘deserve’ to be the Green Ninja?”

Kai shook his head clear.

“So you don’t think your parents were good people?” Morro asked in a mocking voice.

“I-” Kai could only make the one sound.

“Because you’ve always defended them to Nya. You wanted to be a blacksmith and continue their legacy. You honor them every year on the Day of The Departed.” Morro continued.

“I do.” Kai whispered.

“That doesn’t sound like you hate them.” Morro said.

He was leading Kai to something. Kai didn’t like it, but he didn’t know how to break out of it.

“I don’t.” he confessed.

“But you should.” Morro pointed out.

He sounded so much like Kai’s therapist when he said it. It make Kai’s breath shake. He didn’t like the conversation. He wanted Morro to go back to trying to convince him the other ninja didn’t care about him.

“You should, but you don’t. Is that right?”

Morro didn’t give Kai a chance to answer.

“Then wouldn’t it be a good thing if I could hate them for you? If I could be angry for you? Then you can hate them like you should!”

Kai covered his ears. He knew what he was feeling. It was the same thing as the first time.

“He didn’t ask to be the Green Ninja. We did! Destiny passed up not one, but two perfectly good options to force the responsibility onto a child. That doesn't seem fair. You’re right, he doesn’t ‘deserve’ that! We could not only take what we worked so hard for, but relieve Lloyd of all that pain. That’s a good thing, right? We could work together and fix it!”

That sinking feeling that Morro was making sense. Scrambling for an argument, but nothing making as much sense as Morro’s words. Desperate to not agree, but finding no other thought in his mind.

Kai could only bite his lip and hope his friends were just around the corner. He wasn’t holding out for much longer.

--

That was just pure fun to write. I'm glad I did this.

-Ivy

[random-imagines-blog]

Struck Blind {Steve Harrington x Reader, Part 3}

Wordcount: 4493 Chapter Summary: A talk with your cousin, and then your first visit to Starcourt Mall. Warnings: Some swearing, a bad joke or two, description of injury.

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 4

Neil never found out. Somehow, Billy had talked some of his buddies from school that too auto-shop to help with the dent that Steve’s car had made against the fender. Well, he didn’t say buddies. Just people that he knew. Probably ones that he blackmailed since it had been a long time since Billy had any friends that weren’t directly related to him. Sheriff Hopper always seemed like he had more on his plate that he needed to deal with than a hit and run, and never showed up knocking at the Hargrove door. Steve never came either, so you assumed that he didn’t figure it out. Looked like this was just yours and Billy’s, and Max’s, dirty little secret. The redhead never acted like she knew, and when it was just you and Billy, he’d taunt about his good fortune. “So fucking glad it was King Steve’s car,” He’d say, drinking a beer that was stolen from his dad’s fridge. “Fucking totaled it, didn’t I?”

You never defended Steve during these conversations, but you felt like perhaps you should have. But you were witnessing your cousin’s mental state whirling. What it seemed like he needed the most was someone to talk to. And the way that he usually did that, how he talked to people at school anyway, was through some sort of bragging. A show off of how tough he was. That’s how he started with you each night when you’d sit in the small backyard together, long after everyone else had gone to bed.

“I thought I’d be outta here by now,” Billy said, after getting his aggression out about Steve, about his dad, about having to take care of Max. Once he got through those topics, he was generally more alright. You rested your head against his shoulder, looking up towards the stars.

“Where were you thinking of going?” You asked. He shrugged, and finished off the beer. He crumpled it in his hand, a loud crunching noise, then threw it lazily into the small garden.

“Back to California or somethin,” He said, leaning his head down to meet the top of yours. The night was warm - which brought out the skeeters in full force. He slapped one off of the back of his neck smoothly. “Back where it actually feels like fucking home.”

“That makes sense,” You said. “Then at least you would feel like you’re closer to your mom right?”

He stayed silent for a moment. The sounds of crickets out there. The insect nightlife going wild. A real rave. You could feel his cheek moving against the side of his head as he licked his lips. “Yeah,” He finally breathed. “She’s not here. I can’t feel her here. Back in California, when I’d go to the beach, at least I could feel ... something. But not here in the middle of shitty Indiana.”

You nodded, understanding. “I miss her too. Everyone always knew that she was way too good for your dad. I used to hear my parents talk about it after we’d visit. And they didn’t even know how bad things got. They didn’t know how to help. I didn’t know how to help,” You said, taking his hand and squeezing it. “But I’m here now. Whatever you need.”

He squeezed your hand in return. A gesture that he would never share with others. Being so close in age, it was almost like you were twins, rather than cousins. You grew up together. You were so close to one another. You had eighteen years of memories with Billy and maybe you were the only one who could understand him during this hard time. And maybe - maybe you were the only one that tried.

“I can’t leave Max to deal with this shit alone,” He admitted. It was so quiet. It blended in with the noises of the night. A real admittance.

“That’s noble. But - does that really mean that you need to be his punching bag? You shouldn’t put yourself through this hell just so that she doesn’t get touched. She’s tougher than you think she is. You’ve had some influence, you know.”

“Better me than her,” He grunted. “And better me than you too.”

“You’re always defending us. And we appreciate it. I know Max sees it, she doesn’t hate you as much as she acts like it,” You said, softly, keeping your voice low. The last thing either of you needed was someone eavesdropping on this conversation. “But when are you ever going to let us defend you? You’re carrying the weight of the world on your shoulders. It’s going to make you sink.”

A tiny little sniffle. You pretended that you didn’t hear it. For his sake. The silence hung heavy in the air as he took your words in. Letting that door open a little before he’d close it again, removing his head from your shoulder and pretended to cough into his arm, all the while wiping his eyes. You didn’t say anything. You didn’t even look. “Do you need a ride anywhere tomorrow?” He asked, changing the subject completely. And you let him. You said your piece. It was up to him whether he took any of it to heart.

“I was thinking about checking out Starcourt,” You said, keeping your tone casual. “Max is going out with her friends, and I don’t feel like sitting about, listening to Susan’s soap operas. There’s only so many betrayals, people coming back from the dead, evil twins and amnesia cases I can take.”

“You want to go see fucking Harrington, don’t you?” Billy asked, turning his head towards you. Through the dim light of the porch lamp you could see his face growing pink, his eyes puffy. “What, you think he’s better than me? You want to go spend all of your time with him now?” He scoffed. “First Max protects him and now you. What the fuck is so great about King Steve anyway? You let him in your pants at the hospital?”

The hand that was squeezing yours tightened. It was close to hurting - just quite uncomfortable now. “Billy,” You said slowly, keeping calm. You tried to take your hand but he kept holding it. Clamped. Trapped. “You need to take it down a notch. You don’t speak to me like that, remember? It’s me. Y/n.”

He took a deep breath through his nose, and then held it in - and finally loosened up his grip. Instead of snatching your hand back, you put your arm around his shoulder and gave him a little nudge with your body. “First of all, you need to stop calling him King Steve. You’re both graduated from high school now. It just sounds like you genuinely admire him-” Billy let out a little warning growl, but you smiled and continued, “-and two, of course I didn’t. We made an agreement not to talk about our sex lives but mine is like - nonexistent so I’m allowed to say that much.”

“Yeah, and it better stay that way,” Billy said, grunting. It made you laugh again. He always did play the part of overprotective brother a little too strongly. You’ve just had a lot more time to get used to it than Max did. “If you get knocked up and end up having a shotgun wedding to some Indiana hick, I swear to God-”

“You gonna come riding up to the courthouse in your car, all cool like?” You asked, laughing as the image came into your head. “Give your reasons for why me and my fiance shouldn’t wed. Call him a redneck sonofabitch and punch him right in the kisser?”

Billy laughed too, his head raising up to catch the air, his long hair flying down past his neck. “Somethin’ like that. Then I’ll take you back to California so you can marry one of those movie stars. Make us rich.”

“Oh, so it’s alright if he’s rich and famous?” You asked, still giggling. “Alright, alright, I’ll keep that in mind. I always did have a thing for Harrison Ford. It’s the Indiana Jones of it all.”

“Oh, shut up,” Billy pretended to gag. “Indy is a fuckin nerd.”

“Oh zip it. You just wish you could pull off the hat. Don’t take it out on Indy that you do not have a head built for hats.”

That got him laughing even more, which was a really good way to end the night. While still in that elated mood, you got him to agree to take you to the mall before he’d start his afternoon shift at the pool. You made the good point of the fact that he was at work all day, and Max was out with friends. What were you going to do all day? Hang out with Neil? At the very least, you could grab a couple of books to get you through the next week or two. You heard about a Jeanette Winterson book that was supposed to be good and came out in the Spring. Time to find a hobby.

--

The mall was busy. Like it felt as if every single person who wasn’t working that day had flooded in here. Which you didn’t mind at all. It made it feel more like you were at home. California. People worrying about the latest fashions, looking at magazines, eating ice cream and sucking popsicles to beat the heat. The air conditioning was doing it’s best but with so many hot bodies packed into one place, there was only so much that it could do.

The only thing that you were missing was the beach.

Nonetheless, there were at least five stores that were advertising swim wear. The high cut Baywatch style was all the rage. Pictures of girls in these bathing suits were in a lot of windows. Eye candy for the men, but there were a couple of male models thrown in too. One particular advertisement made you stop and laugh to yourself.

Bikinis Half Off.

You peered inside of the store and saw a rather stern looking woman gazing at the customers from behind the counter. If that was the store manager, like you assumed, she didn’t even get the joke that she made. You went in though, browsed for a bit. You had the whole day to kill. High cut thighs, low cut breasts. Phoebe Cates’ style red bikinis. Maybe you would get something. Spend a day at Billy’s pool. Watch him work. Or rather, watch all of the moms watch him, or so he bragged. He noticed, though he pretended not to while he was at work. He had his eyes on Mrs. Wheeler, apparently, because her kids pissed him off. You never got the whole story on that. You’d have to ask.

You found a bathing suit that was actually in your style. You bought it from the grumpy looking woman. Before leaving you said, “I like your sign.” There wasn’t much in response. She really needed to work on her customer service skills.

There were so many stores in this mall, and so many people milling about. You found yourself in a courtyard-type area, with benches and potted plants and benches to sit down on, take a break from shopping. You actually spun in the center, looking up. A giant skylight above the second floor brought natural sunshine down onto your forehead. It felt warm, despite the air conditioning being cranked up. You could see shoppers on the second floor, heading to escalators or stairwells. There was even a movie theater up there. That was impressive. There were posters splayed on the walls, and hanging off of banisters about what was playing. Back to the Future. You made a mental note to see it. Christopher Lloyd was great in everything.

You thought you saw a flash of red hair off in the distance. Max wasn’t the only redhead in town but you recognized that carroty orange shade. It made you grin. You hoped she was having fun. After the things that had stressed her out the year before, she deserved it. Gathering yourself, you decided to get something to eat and then browse a little more before taking the bus back home to drop your things off. What you did afterwards - you weren’t going to make a plan. You were going to let your feet take you wherever they wanted to go.

Although New York Pizza was calling your name, the smell of rich tomato sauce overpowering some of the others, you turned in the direction of Scoop’s Ahoy. You had to check this place out now. And double check that Steve was alright. You haven’t heard from him since visiting him at the hospital and having that rough interaction with his dad.

As you walked from the brown linoleum to the blue and white checkered floor, you saw that head of hair right away. Even though it was hidden beneath a rather embarrassing cap, it really was iconic. He was looking absolutely fed up with someone that was standing in front of him at the counter. A girl, around twelve. Extremely sassy. Asking for samples of everything. From the look on his face, this was not a new occurrence. He already had the next sample on a little wooden scoop ready for her before she had to ask for it.

“We’re putting a limit on you,” A pretty girl said from the back, putting her head through a window. She noticed you before Steve did. “You’re holding up a line.”

“Take your time,” You said, a conniving smile to the dark girl as her head turned around to see what line there was. She had attitude written all over her face. You liked her immediately. She had something like Max’s fire in her. “I’m not in any rush,” You added, winking at her. The dark haired girl looked you up and down and then turned back towards Steve who was now grinning at your direction, finally noticing you.

“I didn’t need your permission,” The sassy girl said, making you nearly snort with laughter. It was an unexpected comeback. And it was gold. The grin came off of Steve’s face as she went back to making demands for samples. Cotton Candy, Cherry Jubilee, Almond Fudge. You took a seat in one of the booths and pulled out the books that you bought, reading the back, waiting for the girl to finish with her long list. Mango, Mint Chocolate Chip, Citrus Twist. You were actually growing amazed at how many samples she could eat, and how long Steve’s patience was holding up. If it were you on the other side of the counter - it would be a different story. Finally, the girl tried the last flavor, and then dropped a line which made Steve run his hands through his hair with annoyance. “I’m not hungry anymore. See yah.” And she just dropped the sample stick on the counter, making it sticky, turned around and left the ice cream shop to meet up with some friends who were waiting for her. Steve grumbled, picking up the stick and wiped down the counter, before attempting to catch your eye.

“If you just ask for samples, I’m banning you,” He warned you, but there was a playful look in his eye. You got up, leaving your bag behind for the moment, and approached the freshly cleaned counter.

“Well, how else am I going to know what I like?” Despite hearing all of the flavors being asked for, you looked at the display in front of you. Quite a lot of options.

“It’s ice cream,” Steve said, simply. “If you’ve had it before, you’ll know what you like.”

His bluntness made you laugh. He had a point there. “Alright, alright,” You said, bringing your eyes up to look into his own amber-colored ones. “I’ll take cookies and cream in a waffle bowl.”

“Excellent choice,” Steve nodded, that smile coming back. The girl from the back came around and started to prepare it, picking up one of the waffle bowls but Steve stopped her. “It’s okay, I got this one.”

“Wow, a girl shows up and you want to work, shocking,” She commented. Steve tried to shush her as he picked up the wet scoop and started to fill your bowl.

“So this one’s a flirt, is he?” You asked the girl, taking in her name-tag. Robin. That was a cute name. Suited the color of her eyes, which was a robin’s egg blue. That would make it impossible to forget.

“He attempts,” Robin said, evidently pleased at having someone to make fun of Steve with. “Strikes out every time. I have a tally chart in the back going.”

“Oh Steve, that’s embarrassing,” You tutted, shaking your head. “A whole tally chart. And you really seemed so charming.”

“Stick around,” Robin snorted. “It’s like watching a car wreck.”

Both you and Steve flinched at the last two words that were out of her mouth. You looked at him out of the corner of your eye, and he did the same to you, both of you now avoiding looking at Robin. The moment of silence was long as Steve was scooping the ice cream into the cup. He gave you an extra one on top which looked like it was going to slide off in a haphazard manner, but it stayed on nonetheless. That’s when Robin put her hands over her mouth, realizing something. “It’s you! You’re the guardian angel babe that he was talking about.”

“Did you really have to add the babe?” You asked, staring at Steve, the tension feeling broken, at least for you. You could banter forever. But you weren’t so sure that Steve was able to take it, not with the flush that was coming up on his cheeks.

“I didn’t, she did,” Steve said, pointing over his shoulder towards Robin. She did look rather pleased with herself. “Do you want any toppings on that?”

“No, it’s uhh - perfect the way it is. Thanks,” You said, moving aside to where the cash register was. You picked out one of the plastic spoons that was in a bowl, just waiting to be taken, and reached inside of your bag to get cash to pay for it. But the waffle bowl never touched the counter. It was being held out to you. “How much do I owe you?” You asked, just figuring that Steve was trusting that you wouldn’t run with it.

“Nothing,” He said, shaking his head, a stray wave of hair coming out from beneath that embarrassing cap that he was wearing. Oh, you had noticed it alright. How many pins did he have to put in there so that it would sit right on his head like that? At so jaunty an angle, you wondered. “It’s on me.”

“After you just lost at least five dollars in product to the little dictator? I don’t think so. Come on, let me know how much it is.”

“I’m serious, I’m not pressing any buttons,” Steve insisted.

“I can?” Robin offered. She went ignored by both Steve and yourself.

“Fine, if that’s the way that you want it,” You said, bringing out a crisp bill. “You can’t say no to this, at the very least.” With your middle finger and your thumb, you folded it lengthwise, and stuck it into the tip-jar, which only had a couple of meager coins inside of it. “You hear that Robin? If he gives even one groan, I want you to take it.”

“But that’s - a ten dollar tip,” Robin said, eyes wide. She then straightened up her back and held her hand to a salute that would make anyone actually in the navy proud. “Aye Aye ma’am.”

“But-” Steve said, but a single look from you made him shut his mouth. He grinned and rubbed the back of his neck, looking rather bashful. “What are you doing here?”

“At the mall, or in Scoops Ahoy? If the first, shopping, I’m going to need something to entertain me this summer while my family is busy. And the second, why wouldn’t I get ice cream? Or pass up the chance to see how you’re holding up? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, guess that makes sense,” Steve muttered. “I’m alright. My ribs still hurt when I breathe but other than that...”

“And you’re not even taking an extra day off? Come on Steve,” You frowned. “You should at least have a chair or something to sit down on... is there one back there, Robin?”

“Yeah, there’s a break table,” Robin said, as if finally starting to realize that her co-worker might actually be hurt. There was some kind of caring in there, deep down beneath all of the joking around. It was an interesting dynamic.

“Alright, let’s go, andele, andele,” You said, lifting up the counter with ice cream still in hand, and helped yourself right back there.

“You’re going to get me fired-" Steve started to complain, but he stopped when you took his hand and started to pull him towards the back.

“If giving out all of the free product doesn’t do it first, I’ll be surprised,"You muttered. A couple of extra chairs piled up against the wall, some freezers, cleaning supplies, extra toppings. But most importantly, there was a table with two chairs. You let go of Steve’s hand and pointed towards the chair. “Sit.”

“If you’re going to order me around like a dog, the least you can do is give me a treat,” Steve said, but he did what you asked him to do. He even let out a content sigh as he leaned back against it, sore arm splayed on the formica table. That was when you noticed something other than his words for the first time. His knees. They were exposed. So were his calves. Which meant that -

“Your uniform includes shorts?” You asked, trying to hold in the giggles.

“Duh,” He said, not even bothered by your observation. He was feeling too good, just being off of his feet for a moment. Robin didn’t come back to the back, so she was manning the counter. Okay, so maybe you felt a little bad for just coming in and taking over everything, but Steve really did seem like he was in pain. “That’s what you’re noticing now?”

“Well it’s a little distracting,” You hummed, well aware of the fact that you were blatantly checking him out at this point. “Robins’s skirt is cute but these shorts are something else.”

And now you were the one doing the distracting. Trying to keep Steve’s mind off of the pain. You were making him laugh now, turning his head bashfully to the side so you got another look at the beast of a mane. He actually had product in it. This guy had raised his arms up to his head to  comb product through his hair despite the pain that he was in. Okay, that was dedication. You had to give him that much.

“I didn’t get much of a choice,” He said, looking back at you with those honey colored eyes. “It was either here or the sandwich place. They have to wear beige.”

“You made the right choice,” You said, smiling. “Sailor over beige all the way.”

“Hey Harrington-” Robin said, sticking her head through the window that looked into the back room. “Got some kids here asking for you.”

“More free samples?” You asked as Steve groaned, holding onto his temples. He shook his head.

“I usually let them through so they can get into the movies,” He mumbled. “You gonna tell on me?”

“For helping out some kids? Of course not. If I did tell someone, it was because you never even offered me the chance.”

He got onto his feet slowly, showing his pain more than he had when you walked in. Whether he was playing it up for sympathy points or his painkillers were wearing off, you weren’t sure. But you stepped in to help anyway. “You want to go see a movie?” He asked. “Just gotta go through that door, it’ll take you straight behind all the stores.”

“Another time,” You nodded. “I should let you get to work. Or whatever it is that you call work around here.”

“You don’t have to go,” He said, quickly. You walked with him back out to the front where Robin was looking annoyed at two teenage boys in front of her. They looked around Max’s age. Tall, thin, dark hair, and a shorter one with an unfortunate bowlcut. Oof. You weren’t a stylist but you wanted to take some scissors to that hair. This may be the eighties but that hair cut was screaming seventies. And not in a fun way. “You barely even got to eat,” Steve continued, barely acknowledging the two boys.

That was true. You were still carrying around the ice cream in the waffle cup. It was melting slowly. The shorter of the two teenage boys watched you as you walked around the counter to pick up your bags. You smiled at him. He smiled back. The taller one was looking at Steve with annoyance and anticipation. It was pretty funny to see. “Don’t worry about it,” You said. “You’ve got your hands full. I’ll see you around, kay Steve?”

“Sure,” Steve said, looking dejected.

“Nice to meet you Robin! Keep up on that tally, I want to see the results of the end of the week,” You laughed, and gave her a wave. She waved back, more lazily than anything, and disappeared into the back while Steve started to let the kids in. Your last look of him as you left the food area of the mall was of him returning to the front, balancing his elbows on the counter, and resting his head on top of his hand, boredom incarnate. Poor guy. You found a spot among the stores to sit down and people watch, eating your ice cream. The mall looked like the busiest place in town. Middle of the day, people packing in to take advantage of the air conditioning. It made you feel a little homesick. People watching with your friends was one of your favorite things to do but - you’d much rather be here, even if that meant dealing with Neil. After catching sight of the Mayor trying to hide that he was obviously looking at the Victoria’s Secret displays, you left the cool, recycled air and went out into the hot and humid sunshine to make your way back home, and wait for your cousins to come back to hear about how their days went.