#he's on the Christmas card and he didn't expect it but he's here now

[sunsetzer]

Ardyn's opera omnia arc is my favourite because he gets closure and so do I after his dlc made me very upset

[aboringredmop]

k still don't know how im gonna post the videos (YouTube? unlisted?someone please help) but I can't sleep so I thought it'd write down whatever I remember happening!

(edit: here's the full recording! )

Becky and Joe walked on stage wearing sunglasses and red leather jackets and threw 3 of the trio plushies into the crowd. didn't get one unfortunately but it's really cool some people got free plushies :)

they made this robot child called the Inspiration Child, who's clearly meant to be a nod to ai (can learn from our show and generate it's own content!)

they explained how they met (and had some dodgy animated retelling), and how they started with small projects like commercials and music videos, until they came up with designs of the trio (and a mysterious fourth fella)

they made the designs first, then made the set, then the song and finally wrote the script for creativity. red guy was just a red mop head with legs at first ("alien squid thing") but Joe put the red guy head on for shits and giggles once and Becky thought it was hilarious so they kept it in the show

they were really not expecting it to blow up, and when Sundance called because they wanted to show creativity Becky thought it was a scam caller lol

they talked about the kickstarter and the credit card fraud kid. the mailed him saying "hey maybe dont do that" but the kid didnt know how to undo it cuz he just found a website full of credit card information and went ham, so Becky and Joe had to contact kickstarter because people were pulling out of the funding because they thought the project was overfunded (kickstarter was very difficult to contact)

they also made (lighthearted) fun of nsfw fluffybird art ((no padlock 😔) "using OUR characters to act out their SICK FANTASIES" - Becky) and theorists, especially because most if not all of the webseries is just them fucking around.

Inspiration Child also says something along the lines of "wow what a cool show with a great message of how corrupt the media is. I hate the media!"

Becky and Joe had these rules to make the show as vague as possible (no pop culture references, no names, no swearing and way too much detail put into small things)(the duck guy drag queen absolutely obliterates the no swearing rule lol)

they talk about the pilot, how they focused too much on the story because they felt like they had to due to it being on the big screen now, and how it ended up ruining the atmosphere and such of the pilot. they did show the entire thing sped up but my phone sucks ass so I could not get it to focus correctly. I'll see what I can salvage so you people can dissect frames of your blorbo you're Legally Not Allowed To See (which is also the official reason we don't get the pilot)

also pilot concept art showed that Mean Steve is in fact just called Key

they showed a whole post-it wall full of ideas for the tv show. don't know how much I got on footage, but what stood out most to me were 2 episodes called Money and Christmas. Joe mentioned "clock in a wheelchair" specifically

also really fun fact. Becky made the Lesley suit during covid, and pretty much threatened Baker into writing a human character into the show to wear it. concept art also shows Lesley with a mask made out of the same fabric, don't know if this was part of the original suit tho

they showed Warrens old models (?). he was gonna be a wayy more ugly looking silicone pug-worm thing y'all got lucky with the bald fuck

lily and todney were directly based off of some cancelled show about two porcelain doll children with panda parents. do not for the life of me remember what it was called but Becky and Joe were very enthousiastic about it (UPDATE: Candy and Andy!)

international release of the show soon!

Inspiration Child talks about what he's learned and sings a little song, then generates his own dhmis inspired content of a cult meeting in a forest at night. the dhmis Discord server called this "potential new content" but I doubt it

3 cultists walk on stage, face the screen backs to the crowd, drop their cloaks and boom! drag queens!!!

they were not mentioned on the site or during earlier parts of the show at all so they were a complete surprise. I asked Becky about it later during the night and she said she really wanted them there, so she asked and they were excited to! hope this means more official content with them soon I love them

they dance to There's Three Of Us, then Duck lipsings the shredder song which turns into a techno remix while Red and Yellow dance during the background

then Duck and Yellow make out while Red tries to undress to the instrumentals of the Fucked Up Part of Creativity but can't get out of his suit on time before the song ends

the drag queens, Becky and Joe and the Inspiration Child walk around during the meet and greet later and I got signatures from all of them! except inspiration child he didn't have thumbs

the drag queens were so fucking funny. Duck adopted inspiration child and loudly yelled at everyone to "GET AWAY FROM MY FUCKING CHILD" (their duck voice is sooo good). yellow stood in a corner staring at a wall for like 10 minutes and red was constantly awkwardly hovering just outside the frames of pictures (and also could not see shit lmao)

Becky liked my shirt! (the one with the melting trio heads) said she handdrew it

I'll post the signatures and some more stuff tomorrow because it is. 5 am

edit Heres the signatures! yellow guys is Italian I think? and means hi I love you :)

(the liyskaen is duck trying to spell my name. they got pretty close)

[alloftheimaginesblog]

happy new year {peter parker}

part one here

plot: after your ex peter leaves you a card on christmas, you go visit him.

character: peter parker x female character

note: i love emotional, touch starved peter parker

It had been almost a week since Peter had left the card on your fire escape and you'd not reached out in any way shape or form despite Peter's hopes and wishes. He took that as the final nail in the coffin. You had completely moved on so it was time he did too.

He had just finished his second patrol of the day and was coming back to Aunt May's for some lunch when his enhanced hearing could hear muffled voices and laughter coming from Aunt May's home. Someone else was here. Peter frowned. Aunt May hadn't mentioned anyone else coming over today. He shrugged it off, maybe just a neighbour coming to wish her a happy new year.

He pulled the mask off, shoving it into his hoodie's pocket - he liked doing his patrols with a hoodie and sweatpants over it to keep the winter chill of New York away - and opened the door. The voices were louder but still muffled, he couldn't tell who it was.

He dropped his backpack by the door and walked into the kitchen where the voices were coming from. Peter was expecting a neighbour - Mr Jenkins or Anita from across the street - he certainly hadn't been expecting the person who was sitting across the kitchen table from Aunt May.

It was you.

Everything seemed to stop, time slowed right down and all Peter could do was stare at you with an expression with resembled that of seeing a ghost. He was acutely aware of his heartbeat, hammering loudly in his chest, ears ringing as your head rose to look at him. Your smile faltered for the briefest of moments as Aunt May stood, re-introducing the two of you after all this time. Your lips moved but he couldn't hear over the ringing in his ears.

It took a solid ten seconds for Peter to come back to reality. He opened his mouth, closed it and then opened it again. He hadn't prepared for this. He wasn't prepared to encounter you again. He thought that this chapter was done, closed and finished... But you were standing in his Aunt's kitchen.

"Hey, Peter," you said gently. God, he wanted to fall to his knees with the way you said his name. One word, two syllables and he would've killed for you if you asked him to.

Aunt May saw his surprise and half stepped in front of you, almost shielding him from you so that he could regain some form of composure, "(y/n) wasn't sure where your new apartment was, Peter, so she came here. She brought some delicious scones as a new year's gift." Her eyes were aglow with excitement, she had hoped the two of you would find your way back to each other and maybe this was that connection finally happening like it should've stayed.

"Uh," Peter nodded to his Aunt May, silently telling her that was he was okay and she moved out of the way. Peter took a deep breath. You looked perfect. He'd seen you a week ago, Christmas Eve, but right now it was like he was seeing you for the first time. Your hair was loose and bouncy, your cheeks slightly rosy from the winter chill, your eyes wide and smiling at him with a slightly unsure expression, "Hi." All it took was that one word and he saw you visibly relax, saw your shoulders fall and saw a flash of relief on your face.

Aunt May quickly thought of an excuse to leave and left the two of you in the kitchen with so much tension hanging in the air between the two of you, "How-"

"I'm sorry-" you blurted out.

Peter frowned, "What?"

"- for just showing up. I-I went to your apartment - your old apartment - the woman that lives there didn't have a forwarding address for you and she wasn't all very pleasant at all-" Peter smiled slightly at your nervous rambling, "-and I knew where Aunt May lived and I had to talk to you so I just came here. I didn't think to call because- I don't actually know. I-"

"Hey," his voice was so soft and gentle, "it's fine." There was a moment's pause and he continued, "I moved about six months ago. Needed a change." The apartment was full of the ghost of you. "Few blocks away from my old apartment. Nicer. Rent is horrendous though." This made you crack a smile.

Again, silence fell. It was awkward. You had come here prepared to tell him what you needed to tell him and now, standing in front of him... you were too scared. He looked good. Tired but good. He had grown his beard out which was nice, you always loved him with a beard. It suited him. His chocolate eyes were just as warm but there was a sadness surrounding him again, like when you first met him.

"Do you want to go for a walk?" He asked quietly.

You nodded immediately, "Sounds good."

The snow fell slowly, floating down to the ground as you and Peter walked. Neither of you spoke but it was a little more comfortable being out in the open with the sounds of New York around the two of you.

Anxiously, your fingernails dug into your skin. Just tell him, (y/n). You came all this way to chicken out?! You took a breath but Peter beat you to the chase.

"I'm sorry if I overstepped by coming to your apartment," he said sincerely, "I-I know that's why you're here so scream at me if you want, I just... I deserve it." You frowned, confused, "Aunt May had told me she bumped into you and you were with someone and you were happy... I... I got jealous but I shouldn't have done what I did."

"Pete," you said with a shake of the head, "I mean, yeah, you overstepped the mark. It was completely and wildly inappropriate and almost kind of creepy?" You took a second to pick your words, "But you made me kind of snap out of the auto pilot mode I was in."

It was Peter's turn to be confused.

"Jasper... He was great. He's someone Rachel set me up with a few months ago and yeah, he was fun but..." He wasn't you, "it wasn't going to work out. We wanted different things."

You cleared your throat, refusing to look at him and instead looked away from him watching the snow fall, "Wait... you broke up?" You nodded, again not looking at Peter. Embers of hope began to burn a little brighter in his stomach, "Oh."

"He knew about you, you know," you said quietly and had Peter not had enhanced hearing he wouldn't have heard your next few sentences, "He knew he had no chance competing against you even though you weren't trying until last week. He knew that I still loved you."

Peter's face softened and he slowed down with you. He stretched his hand out to take yours but hesitated and his hand fell. For a moment, the two of you stood - you with your back turned and Peter with the most forlorn expression.

"I really tried to get over you, Pete. I really tried." You sniffed, wiping tears away before they could fall. You turned to him, seeing his own eyes welling with tears, "It wasn't your fault, Peter."

His head fell back onto his shoulders as he closed his eyes, tears mixing with wet snow as he exhaled a long breath. For over a year, he harboured the guilt of your accident. It was because of him; who he was. You got hurt and he hated himself for it.

Your hands clasped his cheeks and Peter gasped. He was so touch starved, he hadn't realised that another person hadn't touched him besides Aunt May in a year. You pulled his head away from the sky to look down at you, "You hear me?" You were crying, "What happened to me, it wasn't your fault. I don't blame you, Peter, I never have and I'm so sorry that I couldn't help you last year. I'm so sorry you've held onto this all this time."

He opened his eyes, staring at you again for what felt like the first time, "I didn't mean for you to get hurt."

"I know that," you let out a sob, "Peter, everything you've ever done is to protect me! Had it not been for you, I would've died. You webbed my wounds and took me hospital immediately, you saved me."

"But-"

"You saved me, Peter. None of it was your fault. I do not blame you. Please, please stop blaming yourself."

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead, pulling him down so you could plant the kiss on him. Then one on his wet nose. Despite the cold, Peter's body was on fire at your touch. This was what he'd been craving for a full year. You.

"You better stop," his voice was thick, "cause if you let me kiss you, I'm never gonna let you go again."

You smiled widely, pressing your foreheads together, "I'm not gonna leave again so by all means..."

He didn't need to be told twice. His lips were on yours in a flash, hot and cold, melding together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle. He still tasted the same; chocolate, coffee and peppermint. His hands pulled you in, not hesitant anymore but confident and knowing. He pulled you flush against him as he kissed you, a hand weaving into your hair as the other wrapped around your back. God you missed him. And for a moment, just for a moment, everything in the world was good and everything was right.

What a way to start the year.

[wordsarelife]

DAY 23: WHAT CHRISTMAS MEANS TO ME

-> part 2 of it's beginning to look a lot like christmas

pairing: platonic!slytherin group x fem!reader

summary: when you don't turn up for breakfast one morning, your friends go on a scavenger hunt to find you

warnings: mentions of illness, a bit of angst, but happy ending

the slytherin boys and pansy were sitting in their usual seats at the slytherin table, eating their breakfast

"where is y/n?" draco asked pansy, while he folded the paper to put it down

"probable hanging mistletoes around the school" mattheo joked

"she's still in the dorm. she didn't want to come down with me" pansy shook her head

"she didn't want to?" theo asked "is something wrong?"

"she's probably planning another of those christmas surprises" blaise laughed "first the picture and next we have to handwrite the cards too"

"is she alright?" enzo slapped blaise on the arm "it's unlikely for her to skip breakfast"

"she didn't talk much" pansy shrugged "i asked her if she wanted to come down and she just shook her head and turned back around"

"she's still in bed?" draco asked baffled "yeah, this absolutely doesn't seem likely, don't you think?"

"hmm" mattheo nodded "if you put it like this"

“okay, now, what do we do? do we go to the dorm?” enzo asked shrugging

“do i look like a girl to you?” draco deadpanned

“no..?” enzo looked confused

“then how am i supposed to ‘go to the dorm’?”

“huh”

“why don’t you ask her what’s going on?” theo looked at pansy “maybe you can get her to come downstairs, we can wait there for you”

before pansy got a chance to answer, blaise chimed in “you mean.. right before class?”

“we’ll just cut breakfast short and go now” mattheo suggested

“do we have to?” blaise didn’t receive an answer, just angry looks from his friends “okay, okay” he raised his hands in defeat “we go now”

the group got up from their seats and walked back to the slytherin common room. the boys sat down while pansy walked up to your shared dorm, to get you downstairs

“y/n?” she asked, as she didn’t see you in bed like she had initially expected. she looked around the room, you were nowhere to be found. just like the christmas decor you had put up.

pansy walked into the room, opened the closet and wondered where you could’ve went. and why you took the christmas decorations with you. you loved christmas and you never took down the decorations until it was atleast february.

the boys looked up as pansy came back down. “she isn’t in our room”

“what?” blaise almost screeched.

“how more clearly can she put it?” theo asked sarcastically.

“so we came here for nothing?” blaise shook his head frustrated.

his friends ignored him. “where could she have gone?” mattheo asked. no one knew an answer. they sat down frustrated.

"she took the decor away too" pansy said suddenly and all the boys looked up in surprise.

"what?" blaise asked

"how more clearly can she-"

blaise interrupted theo. "no, like genuinely what?" even blaise seemed to be worried now "was she held at gunpoint, being forced to take it down and then got kidnapped?"

"doesn't seem likely" draco shook his head

"no" mattheo interfered "he's onto something. you know y/n! she's basically santa clause if he was a cute girl"

"i think she loves christmas more than she loves all of us" enzo nodded.

"seriously, what happened to our y/n?" pansy let her face sink into her hands.

"are you searching for y/n?" a voice behind the couch made them perk up. it was one of the second years y/n was tutoring.

"tell us what you know, little boy" blaise encouraged

the boy send him a weird look and turned his head to look at pansy instead, someone who seemed a lot more sane and he knew to be y/n's best friend. "she told me she couldn't make it to our tutor session today and then she said she was going to the library"

the walk to the library was one of the fastest things the slytherins had ever done, desperate to quickly find you.

after they had stumbled into the room, they had been immediately thrown out by madam pince, who didn’t want any disturbance before ten o’clock atleast

“okay” theo said to the woman “do you at least know if y/n is here?”

“y/n?” madam pince repeated and no one of your friends was surprised that you were on first name basis with the libertarian. “yes, she was here, about thirty minutes ago. she brought back a book and helped me put a few away”

“did she tell you where she was going?” pansy asked the woman, who seemed a lot friendlier since you had been mentioned.

“yes, she wanted to get some fresh air, she said”

“so she’s outside?” draco concluded.

madam pince just shrugged, before she had that look on her face again, that told all of them that the conversation was over.

before they had started to walk away, she did say something else. something uncharacteristically nice, which made your friends worry even more. “i hope you find her”

the slytherin group stepped out into the cold winter air, their breath visible in the early morning frost. they followed faint traces of your presence—disheveled footprints in the snow, and a few abandoned christmas decorations.

"she was definitely here," mattheo observed, picking up a fallen ornament. "but where did she go?"

blaise pointed to a few scattered snowflakes that floated gently in the breeze. "magic residue. she's been using some spells."

draco frowned, scanning the landscape. "we need to think like y/n. where would she go for some solitude and fresh air?"

pansy suddenly gasped. "the abandoned classrooms near the dungeons! she used to go there all the time to study in peace."

the group nodded in agreement, a renewed sense of purpose guiding their steps. as they approached the secluded classrooms, faint strains of a soft melody reached their ears.

"is that... christmas music?" enzo asked, surprised.

they cautiously entered the room, and there you were, surrounded by the christmas decorations you had taken with you. a small enchanted music box played a comforting tune, and you turned around, a mix of surprise and relief in your eyes.

"hey, guys," you greeted, a weak smile playing on your lips.

"what's going on, y/n?" draco asked, concern etched on his face.

you took a deep breath. "i'm sorry for worrying you all. i found out this morning that my grandma was unwell, and I needed a moment to process it. but she's better now."

relief washed over the group, and mattheo stepped forward, offering a comforting hug. "we were so worried about you."

pansy smiled. "we thought you were kidnapped or something."

You chuckled, wiping away a stray tear. "no, just needed some time to clear my head."

blaise, always the joker, conjured a small bouquet of flowers. "for grandma chrissie" he smiled "please let her know i'm thinking of her and wishing for her to get well soon"

you accepted them with gratitude, smiling about the fact that blaise was still an absolute fan of your grandma.

"how about some cheering up?" draco suggested

the group gathered the scattered decorations, and together you all returned to the slytherin common room. the atmosphere shifted from worry to warmth as the group cooperated to deck the common room with festive trimmings.

in the glow of the enchanted candles and the laughter of friends, the christmas spirit returned. the slytherins rallied around you, playing games and sharing stories late into the night. and that night you were reminded that no matter what, you could always rely on your friends.

taglist: @twistedhistory @bakingintheshire @mqstermindswift @taygrls @athenalikethegoddess @helpimhopelesslyinlove @prettyb1tchsblog @anonnreader777 @unluckyy @novelizt @ahead-fullofdreams @claradelage

[allbark-no-bite]

december and devotion.

jake seresin x reader (wc. 1.4k)

summary: Jake keeps his promise. or the fic where Jake comes home just in time for Christmas

warnings: none, just fluff

author’s note: just a little short and sweet reunion for you guys before christmas. this can totally be read alone from ‘Marriage and Honor’ but it makes this fic that much better if you read the other one before :)

(read parts one and three here: marriage and honor, cats and christmas)

————————————————————————

You get Jake back exactly eleven months to the day that he deployed. Eleven months since you dropped him off on the carrier and hugged him goodbye. Eleven months since you fell in love and then had to let it go on the same day. Eleven excruciating months of endless emails and long phone calls at any and all hours of the night. 

It didn't matter if it was four am or four pm, you were just happy to hear his voice. It meant that he was conscious and breathing and that meant he was alive. Sometimes the two of you would schedule a time to call when Jake knew he would have a few minutes to spare, and when the call didn't come you would just sit by the phone and wait for hours. You knew that things happened and sometimes Jake just got busy. But that was the thing, things did happen, and so far you were 2-0 for those things playing out in your favor. 

When he did get caught up, Jake was always sure to call you back, even if it was hours later, and he'd poke fun at you for working yourself up so much. 'C'mon baby, it was just a little air strike. Nothing for you to worry about,' he'd tease, both of you choosing to ignore the apprehension in his voice in favor of finding humor in the moment because that meant getting to murmur 'I miss you's and 'I miss you too's for just the few extra seconds that the call allowed. 

The holidays rolling around makes Jake's deployment even more lonely. Despite being much closer to home now that you're living on base, you don't have much family left and Thanksgiving ends up consisting of you and the orange cat that you've still yet to tell Jake about. You're not sure he's going to believe you accidentally adopted a cat, the cat that now sleeps on Jake's side of the bed every night. 

Regardless, having another body in the house makes things a little more bearable as Thanksgiving comes and goes and soon enough it's Christmas time on base. Just when you were starting to think that Jake's deployment was going by quicker than you thought, December hits and the days start crawling by. 

Thankfully for you, Christmas comes early.

December 24th.

Is the text you receive from Jake bright and early one random Monday morning. You hadn't been expecting to hear from him for another few days, and when you see his name pop up on your screen, your stomach drops. But as soon as you read his message, you know exactly what it means. 

Jake was coming home for Christmas. 

The port is more crowded and even colder than what you expected it to be at six am on Christmas Eve. It's full of families and children bundled in various layers of scarves and coats, holding signs and cards, anxiously waiting to welcome their service member back home. The atmosphere is incomparable to anything that you've ever experienced. It's full of hope, and happiness, and maybe even a little heartbreak.

You’re feeling a little bit of all three yourself. It's been in the back of your mind that despite having had two brothers in the Navy, you've never gotten to do this. You've never gotten the chance to welcome anyone back home. 

The sound of a horn blowing pulls you from your thoughts. 

Shouts of celebration erupt and children break out into runs, screaming with excitement, and you watch as soldiers begin pouring out from the entrance of the ship, a sea of white amidst the crowd. You linger behind as families around you reunite, feeling a bit lost having come by yourself. You watch as returning fathers gleefully scoop up their children and proud fathers tearily welcome home their daughters. 

Walking a bit closer to the ship, you glance around you in hopes of spotting a familiar face. You catch sight of Javy and his family a bit off to your right, and he waves to you with a quick smile but offers no indication of where Jake might be. You walk a little further, passing almost every member of the Dagger squad, until you finally come to a stop back in the middle of the crowd. With so many people all around you, you begin to wonder how you're ever going to find Jake.

"Looking for someone?"

It's the same voice that you've been straining to hear over some crappy military base service line for months. Only this time it's ten feet away and not across the world. 

You spin on your heels, bolting into Jake's arms quicker than you've probably ever moved in your entire life. You don't even take the time to take him in before you're burrowing your face into the crook of his neck, your body clinging to his like he's going to disappear at any given second. Jake has to drop his bag to catch you, wrapping both arms around your waist and shuffling backwards a few steps so that he doesn't lose his balance. His skin is warm despite the chill outside and you revel in the press of his cheek to your own, your cold nose nuzzled into his ear.

Jake holds you for god knows how long, his body swaying occasionally with yours in the embrace. Eventually you loosen your grip around his neck, as much as it pains you to do so, but you want to see his face so you pull away, your hand moving to either side of his face to get a good look at him.

Jake's green eyes shine at you in what you can only describe as pure adoration. He looks a bit tired, maybe even a bit older than he did when he left, but he's still the Jake you said goodbye to all those months ago. The lines by his eyes still crinkle when he smiles and his cheeks dimple right along with them. 

Jake says nothing as you examine him, just smiles at you warmly and allows you this moment to yourself. He'll have plenty of time to kiss you later.

His hair is much shorter than what you're used to, almost certainly to adhere to military regulations, and your fingers scratch at his scalp in a moment of wistful melancholy. "Your hair," is all you can say, fond tears threatening to spill over your eyes. 

A laugh rumbles from his chest and his eyes crinkle as he takes your hand in his own. "It's gonna grow back in no time, baby. I promise." 

You're not genuinely sad about his hair and he knows this, it's just that there so much to say after eleven months of being apart and not enough time in the moment to say it. 

So instead of trying to find the words, Jake just squeezes your body against his once more before setting you down to grab his duffle bag. He keeps one arm wrapped around your waist, the other bearing the load of his over stuffed duffle. As happy as he is to has his girl back in his arms, all he wants is to go home and have you to himself. And maybe get some sleep. "C'mon, kid. Let's get you home. It's too cold for you to be standin' out here."

Only when he starts walking away, you don't budge. Your feet are planted into the ground and he ends up a few steps ahead of you once he looks back. Jake turns around, duffle bag in one hand and the other held out to you in question. "Don't tell me you're getting cold feet now. I've only been back for about five minutes," he laughs. He's mostly teasing, but you pick up on the faintest hint of hesitation in his voice. 

You cross your arms, trying to keep yourself from smiling. "You're forgetting something."

A look of confusion crosses his face before his brows lift and his smile returns. Chuckling, Jake drops his duffle and walks back towards you, taking your face inbetween his hands like you had held his a few moments ago. He can't help the massive grin on his face as he leans into kiss you. 

Your cheeks are flushed and cold but they heat right back up as his mouth captures yours. His lips are soft against yours but the kiss is firm and sure—tender but packed with all of the longing that cannot be expressed with words. You immediately miss the warmth of Jake's lips when he pulls away.

"Merry Christmas," he murmurs, so close that he may as well have been speaking it into the kiss. 

"Merry Christmas," you murmur back, smiling back against his mouth as you lean in to kiss him again.

[octuscle]

ho

Ho? Ho ho ho? Already! Damn, the infidels are your pain in the ass… First Halloween, then Thanksgiving, and now it's Christmas. Your perpetually stoned and drunk roommate is constantly listening to remixes of Christmas classics, drinking eggnog and hanging up the colorful lights his mom sent him along with gingerbread and Christmas cookies. You swear the next time you hear "Last Christmas", you'll run amok. Somehow everyone here expects that from a Muslim like you anyway. Especially during Advent.

All you want is to finish your degree as quickly as possible and get back home to Egypt. With a computer science degree from the USA, you're king there. And finally far away from the infidels again. And thank Allah you don't make half as much fuss about Eid as the infidels here do about Christmas.

"All I want for Christmas is you…" Shit, are you already humming along to the music? No wonder, it's the purest brainwashing. But the music isn't bad. And be honest: you had a Christmas tree at home in Minnesota in December. Your parents emigrated to the USA 20 years before you were born. Of course you are circumcised. But you're basically a corn-fed guy from the Midwest.

Damn, your mom's cinnamon stars are the best cookies of all. The recipe is still from your great-grandmother from Swabia. Old family tradition. Even your father couldn't resist it. Perhaps you inherited the black hair and brown eyes from his ancestors in Egypt. But basically, you grew up in the traditions that your mother's family brought to the farm from Germany generations ago.

What you hate about Christmas is writing Christmas cards. But your family expects it. Your father's parents in particular, who once again can't come for Christmas and will be celebrating far away in Malmö, would be very unhappy if they didn't receive a card. You make every effort to write in correct Swedish. Speaking is admittedly better. It was cool to grow up as a blond boy trilingual in German, Swedish and English. They always called you "The Hun" or "The Viking" in football. Who cares, your qualities as a linebacker got you the scholarship after all.

Ho! You can hear your stupid, musky-smelling, muscle-bound roommate outside in the hallway. He's on the wrestling team. Not really in your league. But he sucks damn well. The door opens. You're prepared. Or rather, decorated.

"Ho ho ho, Dasher! I've hidden a present for you!" Your roommate gets down on one knee without hesitation. You love the Christmas season!

Xmas decoration found @swoleisthegoal

[grapejuicebluesrry]

28th may fic rec!

here are some fics i really enjoyed this month in no particular order!

Shadows Come With The Pain That You're Running From (Love Was Something You've Never Heard Enough) (51K) by yrsacd

a Band AU in which Harry isn't allowed to be who he really is and the North American Tour might bring some unexpected truths into the web of lies and also a bit of heat that has very little to do with the summer in the US.

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Help me (298K) by louxhazxx

Harry is innocent. Louis is not. Louis is a dom and a part of the BDSM community. Harry is not.

When Harry meets Louis and finds out about his lifestyle he wants him to teach him everything. Louis is hesitant at first, but what happens when he eventually agrees and they start a special kind of BDSM relationship without a contract? Will everything go well, or will there be complications?

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a crown of heartache (70K) by WordsInBloom28

The Royal Tail: an alpha den, a strip club, a place where secrets are concealed and consent is medicated. It’s also the place Harry has been trapped for the last three years.

Through luck or fate, Harry finds his way to Louis, a kind alpha who offers safety and comfort. After being freed from the confines of the den, Harry struggles to shake the darkness from his past.

He has a choice to make. Live in a mental prison of his own making or find the strength within himself to face his demons head on with Louis at his side.

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Could Be A Catastrophe (29K) by hazzahtomlinson | @itsnotreal

Louis is one of the two veterinarians in town and somehow gets lucky enough for Harry’s three cats to be his clients.

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giving you all you want and more (giving you every piece of me) (2.5K) by lousdelicatepointofview (starryhaze) | @starryhaze28

“Wanna feel pretty.” Harry whispers, looking up at the ceiling. His face is painted in a soft yellow hue that’s coming from the fairy lights Louis has hung all over his loft. His features look soft, cherubic even.

He’s so young, so young and broken and Louis always patches him up but never fixes him.

“You are my love.” Louis replies his finger tracing over the right laurel tattoo. And Louis knows by the way Harry grimaces that he doesn’t believe him.

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Together unfold (71K) by marcythesassykitten | @marcythesassykitten

the one where Louis is determined to be insecure and stubbornly lonely forever, until Harry comes along to mess up that particular plan.

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Written In The Stars? (50K) by unscattered_horizons

Niall is a writer. Well, technically he's a bar tender who's working towards the day when he pays the bills with his poetry. But for now, he works late and writes in the afternoon before his shifts, and shares a flat with his friend, Shawn. They were strangers before they lived together, but now they're inseparable.

His other friends from uni don't live far, and Louis and H have a kid now. Niall's in no rush to follow in their footsteps. He's happy with his life.

But he has a side job writing horoscopes for an online magazine, because London is expensive and he needs the cash. Niall may not realise it, but some of the horoscopes reveal more about his heart than he's ready to acknowledge. Niall's side gig might prove to be a catalyst for an entirely new life, one he didn't even know he wanted until it was staring right back at him, waiting for him to take a chance and trust his instincts.

OR

What I've been calling the horoscope fic. Inspired by a Tumblr post

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Maybe It's Heaven (81K) by therogueskimo | @bravetemptation

When Harry Styles finds himself forced to go home for Christmas, the last thing he expects is to fall in love.

But then he meets Louis Tomlinson … again.

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May You Enjoy Your New Life (264K) by aimmyarrowshigh

It begins for them all at the bungalow –

'Alright, time to lay out the cards. We’re in this together and hopefully, for the long haul, yeah? So I think – you know, we should just be honest. It’s deal-breakers time. That thing that like, if we’re gonna hate you or something, just tell us all now.'

When One Direction begins, Harry Styles is a sixteen-year-old boy foundering under the pressure of impending fatherhood. His ability to balance the sobering responsibility of caring for his tiny daughter, Millie, and the exhilaration of seeing his own dreams coming to fruition affects not only his future, but those of Liam, Zayn, Niall, and Louis, who never expected fealty to be the key to their success. But Liam is the first to show him how to grow up without growing old, and Zayn is the first to defend from the public what is private and precious. Louis -- Louis is the first for a lot of things; for most of the moments of Millie's life and for the moments of Harry's that matter. And Niall is the first to toast when Millie is born: Go maire sibh bhur saol nua -- 'may you enjoy your new life.'

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Allegiance to your burning heart (82K) by driveinbingo | @joekavaliers

“Have you written any more new songs?”

“I have, yeah. Lately they’re just…coming out of me.”

“Are there any more about me?”

He places a hand on the back of Louis’s neck, carding his fingers through the hair there. It’s getting long again, almost the length it was when Harry left. “They’re all about you.”

*

In the ten years since he last saw his ex-boyfriend, Harry has become very rich and very famous and everything's just great, thank you very much. He definitely doesn't even think about Louis anymore. And he's certainly not going to let a ghost from his past haunt him as he embarks on the biggest tour of his career.

Except Louis always did find a way to crawl underneath his skin, didn't he?

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Secrets in Winter (82K)by softfonds | @softfonds

If Harry Styles thought he was going to have a peaceful winter while staying far away from the rake who lived across the street, he was sorely wrong on two fronts. A Victorian AU.

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the very last drops of an ink pen (47K) by staybeautiful | @harruandlou

 just after midnight on Harry's 30th birthday, he realizes he can't do another year without change. So, he forces it. Breaking up with Louis might have hurt less if they weren't co-owners of Studio 28, living within walking distance of each other, and if he wasn't the thing Harry was most afraid of losing. Secluding themselves on their shared estate in an attempt to save their working relationship may shed a light on where everything else started going wrong. And perhaps give them a chance to fix it.

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Give Me Truths (110K) by iwillpaintasongforlou (The Rainbow Cookie series) | @canonlarry

the one in which Louis falls in love with a fragile boy and tells him every beautiful truth in the world, as long as it makes him happy.

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I Like to Watch (9K) by larry_hiatus | @larry-hiatus

If there’s one thing Harry loves, it’s watching his husband Louis get fucked by other men. After picking up a lad called Zayn who is baffled by this concept, the three men are in for a wild night.

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If you made it this far, here are some stats and a cupcake!

I read 37 fics and a total of 1,657,404 words (yes thats a lot but i love reading and also a fast reader)

×͜× 🧁🌼

[fuck-customers]

Just because someone is a manager doesn't mean they're getting paid well.

I repeat.

Just because someone is a manager doesn't mean they're getting paid well.

I mentioned this in a previous submission and I'm finally getting around to venting about this because I'm losing my mind on both sides.

My state's minimum wage is $14 right now; it rose to that on Jan 1st. I'm a part time assistant manager for a retail store and my HOURLY wage is $14.50. Yeah, I'm getting paid 50¢ more than our part time sales associates. They're barely here meanwhile I'm expected to do all the added extra work expected of a manager for 50¢ more. Hell, the managers are the only ones who get hours here. I'm here most of the week, ALONE, helping customers and making sales and doing paperwork and handling money - all for an extra 50¢

When I got the promotion is when they fucked me over. At the time, minimum wage was $12 so they gave me a whole ass dollar raise for becoming a manager putting me at $13. When the state did a minimum wage raise to $13, guess what happened to my wage? I got that 50¢. I didn't fight it at the time because I didn't know if I would stick around, but the longer I was there it became harder to bring it up to my boss. Every chance I potentially had was ruined because some shit show always happened. Not to mention when my two fellow part time managers got a chance to question raises (they aren't getting paid any better) they would be turned down and then there'd be side comments from my boss about "people trying to ask for raises rn 🙄".

I finally got some hope back around Christmas because apparently our DM (who thankfully loves our store) noticed my wage was too low for my position. Apparently neither he or my boss knew or realized. So my DM going to try to get work out a raise...but I haven't heard shit about it since January...when the raise increased and my $13.50 became $14.50.

Why am I still here? I like the people believe it or not, but I'm getting more and more fed up with the situation

A lot of the people here are probably going to get pissy reading this because they see the word manager and immediately get mad. That's why I'm submitting this. Not all managers are living the good life. For fucks sakes one of the other part time managers just applied for a link card. Welcome to the cushy life of a part time manager I guess.

I just want to fucking die.

Posted by admin Rodney

[piftamere]

eight - girlfriendy (wc : 2k)

she settles into a seat in the stands, scanning the players as they warm up on the court below. her gaze lands on atsumu, who’s stretching on the sidelines, completely unaware of her presence. she’s here for entertainment purposes only. and she’s not sure if he’d like that she’s hoping his team will lose today. she doesn’t know much about volleyball, having never made the effort of learning the rules, so she mainly pays attention to how the crowd and players react. even while dating shion, she rarely came to his games. soon into the relationship, she realized she didn’t care for it.

but she can't help herself now, when she spots shion stumble and miss a save, she has to fight back a laugh, savoring the sour look on his face. she’s debating taking a picture to cherish this moment forever when suddenly her gaze catches atsumu’s across the court. he looks taken aback at first, his eyebrows raising and eyes widening, but his surprise is replaced by a grin as he gives her a quick wave. she waves back, though a little less excitedly. it doesn’t go unnoticed by the libero, whose face turns a bitter and angry shade of red.

soon, it’s atsumu’s turn to serve. she’s caught off guard by the shift in his demeanor. how intense and focused he looks, completely different from how she’s used to seeing him. she finds herself unable to look away, completely drawn in by this unfamiliar side of him. he takes a few steps back and raises his hand to silence the crowd. without meaning to, she’s on the edge of her seat. then, he jumps, swinging his arm to hit the ball with a deafening sound… only for it to lend out of bounds.

she tenses, expecting his teammates or coach to start yelling, but instead, laughter echoes through the team. they’re clearly teasing him, if she were closer, she could hear them make fun of him for missing with his “little girlfriend” watching. atsumu, however, lets out a frustrated groan, flushing deep red as he tries to brush it off.

shion is burning holes in the back of atsumu’s head the entire match, she doesn’t miss a second of it. she might paint his expression to put on her christmas cards, who knows.

when atsumu’s turn to serve rolls around again, she shrinks back into her seat, worried about the outcome. atsumu tosses the ball, eyes locked onto his target and smashes it over the net. it lends perfectly in the far corner on the other side of the court. she releases a breath she didn't realize she was holding, her nerves melting into a small proud smile.

one ace turns into another, and another… after his fourth ace in a row, the energy in the stands is electric. as he walks back for his fifth serve, she sees shion move deliberately across his path. he bumps into atsumu’s shoulder, muttering something under his breath atsumu only scoffs in response, choosing to ignore shion’s petty attempt at provocation.

the other team manages to receive the serve this time, but msby take the point anyway. as the game goes on, she finds herself engrossed more and more. each serve, each spike, each receive pulls her in deeper into the match, hanging onto every point. by the time the match point approaches, her eyes are locked on atsumu, fingers gripping the seat as her heart pounds in her chest almost as loud as the cheering around her.

when the number 12 scores on a ball atsumu passed him, she jumps out of her seat. her eyes meet atsumu’s, both grinning, and her breath catches in her throat. soon his teammates surround him in celebration.

she hurries down the stands and when she reaches the bottom she sees shion inches from atsumu’s face, a taunting look on his features. a familiar, mocking sneer, the same that had caused so many of their arguments in the past. from where she’s standing, she can’t make out shion’s exact words but she can read them in atsumu’s expression, by the way he’s tightening his jaw

his fists are clenched by his sides, knuckles white, but instead of reacting, he turns to leave, a move that only seems to anger shion more. he grabs the blond by the shoulder, forcing him to turn around.

“look at me when i’m talking to you!” shion screams, his voice sharp and accusing. it echoes through the gym, catching the attention of everyone around, who are now staring with wide eyes.

atsumu stands his ground, his expression shifting from anger to an infuriatingly calm, condescending smirk. “stop embarrassing yourself shion,” his voice laced with defiance, challenge.

things escalate in a matter of seconds. shion raises his fist, aiming for atsumu’s jaw. their coach and captain rush in just in time to grab his arm, holding him back as atsumu chuckles and walks away as if nothing had happened.

she joins atsumu, not sparing shion a glance as she walks past him.

“congrats!” she says, her smile warm.

“thank you!” he grins, opening his arms as if to hug her but then pausing, looking down at his sweat-soaked shirt with a sheepish chuckle. he grabs a towel, wiping his face in a towel before continuing, “didn’t know you were coming today.”

“i wanted to keep it a surprise,” she replies with a soft laugh.

“did you like the game?”

“it’s just guys running around,” she shrugs with a smirk, “it’s not as bad as i remembered it.”

“’m glad.” he chuckles.

he takes a long sip from his water bottle, glancing over his shoulder as if checking that shion was gone before turning back to her with a grin.

“come, i’ll introduce you to my roommates,” he says, a playful glint in his eyes. “fair warning though, they’re kind of… a lot.”

“more than you?” she teases, quirking an eyebrow.

he laughs, rolling his eyes, as he swings his towel over his shoulder. “shut up” he mutters, with a grin as they head towards a group of three chatting by the stands.

“you know,” she starts, “i’ve actually met them before.”

“yea?” he looks at her curiously, “when?”

“a few months ago.” she pauses, looking ahead, “i went with shion to a party, after a win. didn’t really talk to them, though.”

he notices she’s evasive, as usual.

“wait- did we meet at this party?” he asks, his playful smirk faltering slightly, “I think id remember talking to ya.” he adds with a wink, but it doesn’t quite mask the worry in his eyes.

“briefly. but you were really drunk. it makes sense that you don’t remember.” she replies, her tone slightly colder than before.

“oh, god.” he groans, hiding his face in his hands. after a beat, he peaks out from between his fingers, “please tell me I didn’t make a fool of myself.”

“no more than usual, don’t worry.” she chuckles, her voice light and playful, but the warmth in her smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

oblivious, he lets out a relieved sigh, “…good.”, after a beat he leans in closer and whispers “if sakusa’s a dick, don’t take it to heart. he’s just like that.”

“um, noted.”

atsumu (re)introduces her to the group, and like he said, they are a lot.

hinata, whom she already knew of thanks to kageyama, and bokuto surround her almost immediately. bombarding her with questions about her life, her interests, and their own stories faster than she can keep up. sakusa, on the other hand, is quieter, watching the scene with an amused expression. he occasionally joins in to add quick jokes at atsumu’s expense, earning a laugh from her every time.

hinata is cut off by a high pitch squeal of atsumu’s name, and she sees an older woman waving in their direction. her brows furrow as she looks at atsumu, confused.

he grimaces, “forgot about that…” he runs a hand through his hair and sighs as the woman, followed by an even older woman and a dark haired man around their age walk their way. “that’s my family, it’s not too late to run away you know.” he whispers as they approach with out stretched arms.

she barely has the time to think about it that they’re standing in front of her, smiling warmly.

“hey mom, gran, ’samu,” he takes them in his arms one by one, then turns to her with a sheepish smile, “um, meet yn… a friend.”

his mother and grandmother’s faces light up, as they share a knowing look, not believing she’s ‘just a friend’ for even a second. he continues, “yn, meet my mom, grandma and my brother.”

before either of them can process it, his grandma clutches her hand warmly, “honey, you gotta join us! we’re celebratin’ the win, and we made way too much food.” his grandma says, her voice soft and warm, her accent even more noticeable than atsumu’s.

he leans in to whisper in her ear again, “y’don’t have to go if you don’t wanna,” but his smile betrays him. she finds herself agreeing without a second thought.

atsumu takes the time to shower and get changed, giving her time to rethink her life choices, and they head back to his family’s house. it’s small, but charming. the floorboards creak under their feet, the walls are covered in pictures, memories. she can easily picture atsumu growing up here.

over lunch, the subject quickly shifts from the win to embarrassing childhood stories. each one making atsumu sink further into his seat. unsurprisingly, osamu is the one who starts the topic, with the tale of the time his twin abandoned him at the playground and tried to convince everyone he had always been an only child.

as the afternoon passes by, she relaxes, feeling more at ease with his family. atsumu offers to give her a tour of the house, thinking she most likely needs a break from his sweet but overwhelming family.

they walk the hallway to atsumu’s childhood bedroom. the walls covered in family pictures. she can see the twins in matching outfits over the years and makes a mental note to never let atsumu live that down. she stops in front of the picture of a man who is the spitting image of atsumu. there aren’t a lot of him on the wall.

“is that your father?” she asks, her tone hesitant.

“yea,” he takes a deep breath, “he died when i was a kid. if you’re wondering why he’s not, um… here.”

“f- i’m sorry.”

“’s okay. there was no way for you to know.”

she stands in place for a moment, staring at the portrait. then she turns to him with the softest expression he has ever seen on her face. “it must have been really hard for you.”

he nods, lips thinning into a tight smile, “yea…”

she doesn’t know what to say, the air is thick. this is too much, too serious, too real. this isn’t supposed to happen, she needs to get out of here.

before she can, atsumu’s hand brushes against hers and, instinctively, she intertwines her fingers with his.

he squeezes her hand tightly, and she thinks that, maybe, she doesn’t need to say anything.

when it’s time to leave, his mom pulls her into a hug, wrapping her arms around her firmly, like she’s already part of the family. it catches her off guard, a warmth she’s never quite felt before, not even from her own mother. she melts into her arms.

“it was a pleasure to meet you sweetheart, come back anytime.”

it stirs something in her, a sense of comfort she’s afraid to lean into.

but the scariest part of all is the quiet realization creeping up on her, maybe, just maybe, she’s getting a little too attached herself.

fun facts

atsumu missed his first ace, but not because he was nervous (totally because he was nervous)

his mom and grandma interpreted 'friend' as ‘gf who's not official yet’.

atsumu knew yn was watching so he acted all cool and calm, but he really didn't want to get punched... he was so scared

after the game hinata called kageyama to tell him everything that happened (the win, shion and atsumu almost fighting...)

and kageyama immediately told yachi, kiyoko and noya

yn left atsumu on delivered :/

author's note

fatherless miya twins is canon to me

more lore on atsumu and yn :0 (even more in the next part)

play dumb! - next

taglist : open!

@alpha-mommy69 @bakugouswh0r3 @giocriedpower @itsdragonius @haechansbbg @wondipity @iaminyourfloors @na0koz @from-mae @eusaevi @kr1nqu @writing-for-the-hell-of-it @thechaosoflonging @littlemiyastars @seikamuzu @nymphsdomain @r4veeen

if you're name is crossed out i couldn't tag you, if it's not fixed in a week i'll remove you sorry :(

[squoxle]

🎄Christmas Fun w/ Enhypen

☃︎ pairing: Enhypen!bf x Reader!gf | ☃︎ wc: 930 ~ 100+ wc per member | ☃︎ summary: Christmas/Winter themed activities each member would do with you (in my opinion) | ☃︎ cw: it’s pure fluff so have fun 🎁😘🎄

🎄희승~Heeseung wc: 132

Correct me if I'm wrong, but Heeseung is such a loser boyfriend--but in a cute way like he just wants to chill with you yk

Anyways, I could definitely see him wanting to watch a billion Christmas movies with you while you snuggled up together.

"Hey, babe. Do you want any snacks?" he asked as you layed on his chest. "No, I'm alright," you said looking up at him. "You sure?" he asked again...you could tell he wanted something, but didn't want to get up only for himself. "You know what? I'd like some cookies...or maybe some ice cream," you suggested. "How about both," he smiled before running off to create your tasty toothache.

Being that this is Heeseung...it could get freaky, but I think cuddling would be great for now.

🎄제이~Jay wc: 132

We all know how much of a husband Jay is. So we shouldn't be surprised when he calls you in the kitchen to bake cookies with him.

I could see him coming over to wrap an apron around your waist before you go over to look at the recipe he printed out.

"Soooo, what do we do first?" you ask. "Hmm, let's get out the ingredients and then we can start," he said as you scanned the list with your eyes. After gathering the ingredients and mixing the dough Jay grabs a spoon for you to scoop the cookies onto the tray.

Ok...I can see things getting really cute after this, like maybe one of you mention something about baking cookies with your future kids and the other one blushes. EEK!

🎄제이크~Jake wc: 149

As our cute little Aussie boy, I feel like Jake would have fun making a gingerbread house with you.

I can see him getting frustrated as he struggles to keep the walls together.

“Ahh,” Jake sighed as the walls fell down. “Jake…you can’t do them all at once,” you said picking up the frosting covered gingerbread pieces. “Ugh, and you used too much icing,” you giggled. “They’ll never stay together with all this stuff,” you added as you watched Jake hopelessly scrape the frosting off. “Argh! This is impossible!” Jake laughed as he tried again. “Here, let me do it,” you smiled as you held the pieces in place. *Crunch* you looked over to see Jake eating the little candy decorations. “Save some for the house,” you giggled as he licked the icing from his fingers.

Who wouldn’t have fun making a gingerbread house with this cutie patootie~

🎄성훈~Sunghoon wc: 111

You should immediately expect the Ice Prince to take you out on an ice skating date...duhhhh

I can literally see him laughing with you and holding your hands while you struggled to stop yourself from falling flat on your ass.

"Relax, princess. Just keep your eyes on me," he'd smile as you trembled. "I'm scared," you whined. "What if I fall?" "If you fall I'll catch you," he reassured you as the two of you continued inching around the rink. Eventually, you'd do well enough to skate slowly, but you enjoyed watching your boyfriend dance on the ice.

Afterwards he'd probably take you out for coffee...because...why not? Sunghoon LOVES coffee.

🎄선우~Sunoo wc: 160

I feel like Sunoo is the type of guy to love doing arts and crafts. So making cute Christmas cards for everyone is right up his alley.

I could see you two playing around with stickers and glitter as you created you holiday masterpieces.

“What do you think?” You said lifting up your googly eyed reindeer card. “It’s for Heeseung,” you continued. “Awww. Cute,” he smiled. “I know our Bambi boy will love it. Wanna see mine?” He asked. “Yesss!” You smiled. Sunoo lifted up a card covered with glitter and heart stickers. “Who’s that for?” You asked with a puzzled look on your face. “Do you like it?” He asked immediately. “Yeah, but who’s it for?” You asked again. “It’s for you. I just wanted to make sure you liked it first,” he giggled before placing it down to scribble some designs on it.

OMGGGGG!!! The more I think about it the more I can see this happening!

🎄정원~Jungwon wc: 134

Maybe it's because he's the leader, but I could see Jungwon and you decorating the Christmas tree together. It would be sooooo cute omg.

You'd be helping him hang ornaments and string garland all around the tree. He'd most likely even let you put the angel on top (or the star...whatever you prefer)

"Wow, we did a really good job," he said stretching as he scanned the tree from top to bottom. "Yeah, we did," you smiled. "Ah, wait...we almost forgot the angel," Jungwon said handing you the cute tree topper. He supported you from behind as you reached up to carefully put the angel on top. "Phew, now it's perfect," you sighed. "Just like you," Jungwon said before hugging you from behind.

Is this cute or what??!!! Help this just radiates Wonergy.

🎄니키~Niki wc: 115

Being the fun, lovable maknae that he is, I could so totally see Niki wanting to build a snowman with you.

Just don't say anything cringey because he WILL call you out for it.

"Aww he's so cute," you said looking at the snowman you and Niki built together. "Oh yeah, well how about you date him instead," he teased to which you just rolled your eyes. "Well hopefully he takes me out on better dates," you teased back. "Hmm looks like he already bought you dinner," Niki smiled mischievously. "Wh--" you were cut off by a snowball launched right at your face.

Yeah...I can definitely see you two getting into a snowball fight.

❀ Thank you all so much for reading! Make sure to check out other works on my masterlist!

❀ 𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝: @chlorinecake @hoyeonheeseung @nikisdubblchococake @sussyjake @furious-eagle @cherrriesss @abbyizzy @weyukinluv @addictedtohobi @thatonenoona @wavykook @givemeyourtmihyun @jaeljn @hoonmywk @valennshit @19-yunalyn @hoonbby @frostedblankets @hoonsyo @no-mannerism @perfectxserendipity @chubbibish @ihrtlix @bunniesforsoobin @thereadersparadise @thatbooknerdfr @aiden2001 @belongstoheeseung @jakeybabe @donut-crazs @rizzhee @nikimeows @woonieees @uarmyxtae @rebecca-johnson-28 @they2luv1naia @isa-2007 @silcry @riverscafe @pearlwhitesoul @nikohiroshi @thatbooknerdfr @wonniewonwon @sughoonieeee @babyy-bambii @adrika04 @sehunsharpasseyebrows @nikisblkgf @wtfyangjungwon @fr-3-akn-4-stymf @rikiloversworld @shawyle @sunoosrightbuttcheek @uarmyxtae @lovesickxmina @urfavberry @urauntiefaye @breadlover01 @taehyunsfavmoa

[ughgoaway]

midnight kisses // day 12

content warnings; kissing? maybe swearing? but like nothing really!

a/n; mmmm I hate this... but ahhhh who cares!! here is the final 12 days fic, despite this actually being the first fic i wrote for it all lol. hope this isn't too cringy <3 (it is oops)

(p.s this is so short I apologise)

word count; 1.6k

(this fic takes place after they've gotten together)

12 days masterlist

✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿✿❀✿

Snow falls out the window as Matty wakes up with a chill in his bones, groggily he reaches over to his phone, the light of his screen briefly blinding him. The numbers 23:45 flashed back at him. God, he must have passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow. 

He slides out of bed carefully in an effort to not wake you. But he quickly notices the lack of heat in the bed and sees you aren't where he expected you to be, mouth open and fast asleep with your hair spread over the pillow in a fan.

He hums thoughtfully as he slides his slippers on and potters downstairs, his throat quickly feeling like sandpaper. He tiptoed past Annie's room, not wanting to wake her. It was Christmas Eve after all, and it had taken a full week of convincing for Annie not to stay up and wait for Father Christmas. 

Matty finally managed to convince his daughter when he pulled the social anxiety card. He claimed Santa was a very nervous person and didn't want to meet Annie because he was too scared. This was the only thing that got his stubborn daughter to give up and admit defeat.

However, she insisted on writing him a letter so he could meet her next year. That way, he knew her through the letter, so he had no excuse. Matty decided that the problem could be for next year Matty, and agreed to her terms.

Once he had slithered past Annie's room, he walked down the stairs and down the long concrete hallway, his arms wrapped around himself at the chill that emanated through the house. Maybe living in a concrete bunker did have its downsides. 

Soon, his slippers met the rug of the front room, and Matty felt the chill leave his body. He began to walk into the kitchen but stopped in his tracks at the sight in front of him. You sat below the tree with a mug of something in hand, tapping on the ceramic mindlessly.

The lights illuminate your face in a way that has Matty blinking to assure himself it's real. The glow in your eyes makes his heart flutter. The soft, warm light spreads over your cheeks, highlighting the red flush from the hot drink.

Your hands are clasped around an old mug of his that continually embarrasses him but that you love. His “lol you're not Matt Healy mug” is your prized possession. Red nails click against the mug in the tune of a vaguely Christmassy song Matty can't put his finger on.

You sit at the base of the tree staring up in childlike wonder. Matty briefly thinks maybe no one broke the secret about Santa to you based on how wistful you look.

Swallowed in his jumper and cross-legged on the floor, you sit drinking in a state of peace that Matty isn't sure he can disturb.

He used to dream of you in his clothes, and still, the sight made his head spin. His penchant for oversized jumpers had never made him happier.

Well, he's just generally never been happier. You make him a brighter and better person than he ever thought he could be.

Matty thought he was done. He tried the whole madly in love thing, but all it did was break his heart and make him a single dad. Not that he didn't love Annie, he loved her more than life itself but he couldn't help but think it wasn't right. That life didn't go the way he wanted.

But now he knows that all the roads in his life were simply leading to you. You were it. The big love he's tried to write about for decades was there sitting below his Christmas tree. The big love he’s yearned for was simply there, in front of him. 

Matty grew restless just staring, so wandered over and plopped down beside you. You jumped at his presence but quickly realised it was just him and leaned into his shoulder. Making your home in the junction between his neck and shoulder, burrowing in and breathing the lingering scent of matty that you love so much. 

Silence fell over the two of you apart from the occasional hum from either one of you as you got comfier, soon ending up on the floor in a tangled mess of limbs lying face to face illuminated by the string lights around the room.

You may have seen Matty in every light in the world, but he's never looked as beautiful as now. The slope of his nose is accentuated in a way that demands you to trace it with your finger.

so you do.

Soon, your finger makes its way to his cheekbones, feeling over the sharp bone with a gentle smile on your face. 

You trace his face like you're trying to memorise his features. As if you've never seen it before, and you're nervous you won't ever again.

and you certainly won't ever see it like this again, aglow with love.

Your finger continues its journey to his lips, and you follow the line of his cupids bow down to the corner of his mouth. You feel over his plump lips as Matty presses a kiss to your pointer finger, grinning as he does. You can't help but break out into a grin at your boyfriend's cheesy smile. 

“I never thought we'd get here, you know?” you say, finally breaking the shroud of silence that surrounded the two of you. Your hand slides down and interlocks with Matty's. He brings your linked hands up and presses another kiss to them as he sends you a confused look.

“I never thought I'd get you. I remember last year, it was Secret Santa, and I knew Annie was my secret student. You know she couldn't wipe that toothy grin off her face all day. It reminds me of you when you get me a present” you say giggling. Matty matches your laughter and shamefully nods, knowing neither he nor Annie can keep a secret for more than 5 minutes. 

“But getting those gifts was more painful than I expected.” Matty shot back and looked at you with wide eyes. Quickly, you cut in and corrected yourself.

“No no- not like that. They were perfect and so thoughtful, but I could feel the effort you put in. Each piece just screamed you. The tissue paper even smelt like your cologne.”

Matty chose not to share he sprayed it to make it that way, just nodding and slyly smiling to himself. 

“It was all amazing, but then I got to that book. It was just a physical representation of all the feelings I knew we shared. The fact you listened to me and took note of my likes and dislikes to the point where you remembered my favourite book from childhood? It broke my heart that I couldn't just run and kiss you then and there.” tears mist your eyes, but a hard blink causes them to disappear. Matty can't say the same, tears collecting in his lash line and looking as if they could fall any second. 

“That night, I went home and read the book over and over. I sat on my sofa and cried over the little prince just like I'm sure I did however many years ago.” You pause for a second a suck in a stuttered breath.

“I think that night was it for me. The night I realised this wasn't just an innocent crush. That I was in love with you. And it was simultaneously the worst and best realisation of my life. Because I never thought we'd get here. I never thought I'd get to lie with you in front of the Christmas tree in the house we share.” You smile and look back into Matty's eyes for the first time since you began only to be met with tears streaming down his cheeks.

Your hands shoot up and wipe them away, and you giggle wetly, feeling the tears collecting in your own eyes.

Cutting the tension you say, “You sap. Crying on Christmas is very cliche, you know?”

Matty laughs as much whilst crying and nods thoughtfully. 

You stare briefly, every emotion swimming in each of your eyes. Silence took over the pair of you again, and you simply stared, watching the life you're going to live play like a movie between the two of you. 

Eventually, the tears stopped, and Matty lent in pressing kisses all over your face as you giggled and playfully pushed him off. “Stop! I'm all gross and blotchy from crying!” 

Matty leans back and catches your eyes before once again leaning in, but this time, instead of random kisses being littered over your cheeks, he simply presses one to your mouth. A quick peck, nothing mind-numbing or life-changing, but it held the weight of the world in it.

Your hands slid up his back as he leaned over you, fingers snaking in amongst the curls at the base of his neck. You pulled him in slowly, just lingering in the moment the two of you had created. But soon your lips touched.

Each movement from your lips felt as if it was choreographed, working together seamlessly. The clock ticking over onto Christmas day was missed by the two of you, time quickly becoming an illusion.

[mysteriousmissfsart]

Twisted Wonderland Rambles #11

The halloween update is here!

It has brought us something I was expecting at some point and a complete surprise that makes me so happy I want to cry!

First of all, we have a Nightmare before Christmas themed event, which I expected at some point and I love it. We get to see Jack, Sally and Zero! (From what I could see as I skipped through the chapters this morning) (Do tell me if you've found translations and where I could read them as well!)

I remember being scared of the movie as a kid but as I grew up, I also grew to love these characters and their story. I don't know why I was scared and I haven't watched it since I was a kid and was scared of it. I'm planning on actually watching it now as an adult.

Having this event in the game is a dream come true but one thing I wasn't expecting was to get a character based of off Jack Skellington this early!

Here he is!

Say hello to our new Twisted boy, Skully/Scully J. Graves! (Still unsure of the spelling but we'll find out in due time.)

Isn't he just perfectly imperfect to the point where you just want to squish him into a hug and give him the world- OKAY, I'LL STOP.

Guess how much more perfect he is?

Here:

Do you know the voice actor for this guy?

And this guy?

Yeah, his name is Kappei Yamaguchi and he voices our new boy Skully. (I'll use this spelling, it kinda matches with how Jack's name is spelled)

Suprised, right?

Well, I silently screamed in happiness because I've missed Kaito so much and was blessed with Skully. Kappei Yamaguchi uses the same voice he does for Kaito which suits Skully surprisingly well. It feels like he'll be an extravagant and goofy guy which reminds me a lot of Kaito's personality. I love them both!

I literally had my mom and my siblings listen to him speak and tell me if they recognized his voice and my mom recognized the voice! This is the best thing ever!(My mom loves Detective Conan and a lot of other anime series) I am planning on saving up for when he's available but I'm currently saving for Malleus's birthday card-

Anyway,

Here are some more screenshots from the first few chapters!

Malleus looks so good!!!! I really wanted him to have an SSR because I want to see him with art of Jack Skellington. But hey, it works out in my favor. It's a lot easier for me to stop myself from spending my keys and diamonds until his birthday banner.

Next!

Here he is! The star of the show and one of my fave Disney characters! (Even though I haven't watched the movie since my irrational bout of fear as I said earlier) He looks awesome!

Next!

Look at Zero! He's so cute!!!!!! I did see him chasing Grim around LOL. They'll get along eventually!!

Sadly I didn't have the time to screenshot Sally but I'll do it later and upload some more screenshots. I've also just realized that I didn't crop out the phone screen thingy that appears at the bottom of the screen, ugh. Sorry about that! I'll just have to leave it as is. I might come back and fix it later.

One last screenshot!

Skully J. Graves and Jack Skellington standing side by side. What an awesome sight! No, like, really, I love this. It just looks awesome and it's crazy that I get to see this with my own eyes.

Can someone tell me what that thing on Skully's head is? Is that a headbeand? If it is, that's a sick headbeand and I want one.

Also, I'm curious as to why he's wearing sunglasses? Could it be that his eyes are sensetive to light or maybe he's hiding them for some reason???? I'm really curious about that and whether we'll find out about that . I hope he takes the glasses off at some point.

Anyway,

This is what I wanted to share currently and I'm curious about what you think and if you have any theories about how this event will turn out!

Can't wait to hear what you think!

[farfromstrange]

Do No Harm

CHAPTER THREE: Broken Glass

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Summary: You have a really shitty night, and it only gets worse until a man in a black mask saves your life.

Warnings for this chapter: ANGST, graphic description of domestic violence (flashback), panic attack, mention of blood & injury, alcohol abuse, sexual assault, Reader tries to play the hero and it backfires (might piss you off)

Word Count: 7.6k

A/n: I worked very long and hard on this one, that's why I didn't post it last week. This is very heavy, so heed the warnings. I hope you all had a lovely Christmas! I’m spending New Year’s in London, and I won’t have my Laptop, so I’m already wishing you guys a happy new year! Spend the day with people you love. Do something that you love. Just enjoy yourselves and we’ll see each other again in 2024!

Read Chapter 3: Broken Glass here on AO3

The loneliness eats you alive like a parasite. As soon as the door of your apartment shuts behind you, the noise coming from the city disappears into the distance, and you are faced with the silent reality of being utterly alone. 

It feels like you are living in a haunted house in the middle of nowhere, not a small apartment in the heart of Hell’s Kitchen.

There are no picture frames on the dresser in the hallway. The two plants you bought for yourself are slowly dying of thirst. The fridge is empty. You don’t own any decorations—you don’t even have a shelf for all of your books, and more than half of them are medical research material, anyway. 

You may be living in this place, but it isn’t yours. After two years, you are no closer to settling down than you were when you first came to New York.

Every day, you ask yourself how long this peace is going to last, and every day ends the same—you’re still safe, but you are deeply unsettled. Your thoughts keep turning against you like demons that you can’t exorcize. Every day, you wonder when you will have to run away again because your past has a way of catching up to you when you least expect it, so you remain on edge. That’s how you live your life. 

If you knew how to accept peace, maybe you would have settled down and personalized your apartment by now, but then again, do you even know who you are? Do you remember the girl you once were? Your memories of the past are scrambled.

You can only remember what it was like to live in a bubble, to be forced into a cage like a bird and turned into someone you never thought you would become. You remember running. You haven’t been yourself in years. Even if you wanted to, there is nothing left for you to put up that would feel like it belongs to you without feeling like pretentious bullshit at the same time. So, you don’t even bother. 

It’s lonely though, having nothing and no one. Claire is your friend, sure, but you had nothing and no one back then, and you still barely have anyone now. She’s your friend, but that’s all she is.

You can’t admit it out loud, of course. You can’t admit that you feel lonely, and you can’t pick up your phone and call the one friend you do have to take up on her offer because of reasons not even the rational part of your brain wants to understand. 

The lamp in the living room casts a dim light over the main area of the apartment and the open kitchen. You place Matt’s business card on the kitchen counter.

Should you call him? A million questions go through your mind, firing rapidly like bullets from an automatic gun. You’re not even sure if you want to call him. You felt comfortable around him, but enough to abandon all your principles? If you call him, he might ask you out, and what do you do then? You don’t date, not anymore, and you definitely won’t let a stranger into the mess that is your life. You can’t do that to a kind soul like him. Matthew is special in a way that you can’t put into words, and that makes the decision so much harder. 

You know exactly what’s holding you back. It’s the same invisible string of feelings that is keeping you from personalizing your living space. You don’t know when you might need to run, and then what? 

Your lungs contract. Air is a lot harder to come by when you’re all wound up. You hope that a nice glass of white wine will help put some things into perspective. Fooling around with someone can’t hurt, but anything more than that could lead to a catastrophe. You have had enough of those for a lifetime. 

You like keeping to yourself. It keeps your heart safe. What happened today, meeting Matthew after you so miserably sought a place to be alone, it was a coincidence—a welcome distraction. And you seemed so like-minded at first glance. He was intriguing and you’re still wondering about his injuries and how he got them, but that’s not the point. None of this is. 

The point is that you are not the kind of person he thinks you are. That’s why you can’t call him. And strangely, that hurts a lot more than simple heartbreak, knowing that you have been ruined for all relationships to come because you made one wrong choice and fell down the rabbit hole—unfortunately not into Wonderland. 

“Shit!” you curse when a drop of wine lands beside the glass.

You lick your finger, trying to wipe the liquid on the counter with a paper towel. In the process, your hand accidentally brushes against the glass, and the sole touch sends it hurdling to the floor. You try to catch it, but the fragile glass has already hit the tiles of your kitchen floor. It shatters into a million pieces. 

The sound reverberates in your ears. Like a shot in the dark, your body is jolted awake into a state of panic. The crash reminds you of hell, and the all-too-familiar flames start touching your skin again, set out to burn you alive. It’s a feeling you know by heart—a feeling you wish you weren’t so painfully aware of. 

Glass breaks before your inner eye. 

You were trying to make him a drink, you remember. He wanted Whiskey, no ice, and at perfect room temperature—it was always the same. After the first black eye that you had to hide under mountains of concealer, you taught yourself to perfect it. You didn’t want to disappoint him. You didn’t want to get into trouble. 

You spent more money than you could afford on the one brand of Whiskey he always told you to get, even if that meant traveling to a store miles away from home. He always wanted that Whiskey, and who were you to deny him?

You didn’t pay attention for one second, and the glass shattered on the kitchen floor. Your heart stopped. The last drops of the brown liquid spilled everywhere, including your clothes. The glass was his favorite. Expensive, too. It broke because you weren’t looking. You were so stupid. 

Fear froze the blood in your veins. Your heart stopped beating. You couldn’t breathe. You reached for a cloth with shaky hands, trying to pick up the pieces in time, but the sound of the glass breaking—that godforsaken loud sound that reminded you of obnoxious screaming—was instantly followed by an even louder echo of angry footsteps. 

Over time, you became painfully aware of those footsteps. You knew how they sounded on wooden floorboards, carpet, and the stairs in the hallway of the apartment building. You still remember how they sounded when he was wearing those squeaky sneakers on the linoleum floors of the hospital.

It’s a sound that always sends shivers down your spine; everyone has those sneakers, but his footsteps were much heavier, much more demanding even when he wasn’t demanding anything. 

And back then, you knew what would follow as soon as you heard them.

“What is this?” his voice reached your ears. 

Your throat tightened. You didn’t even dare to look up. If you had met his eyes, you would have seen your fate in them, and the empty black hole that was his soul. “I’m sorry, I– I lost my grip and–and I dropped it,” you said. You thought that would fix it. How foolish of you, to have faith in someone who never had faith in you. “I’m so sorry,” you couldn’t stop repeating it. 

You thought this time, he would listen to your apology. He would let you fix what you broke. You would have done anything for his approval, for his praise, and for him not to be mad at you. You didn’t want to fight. The evening had started so well. He even kissed you when he came home because you finished dinner in time. He smiled because you managed to clean even the last crevices of his apartment after your shift. He promised he would reward you. 

You fucked up. You knew you fucked up, but you prayed to God that his good mood would keep you safe this time. That he would give you a pass because you have been so incredibly good. You’ve been the best girlfriend he could have asked for, so obedient, never questioning, and always on his side—you were wrong. So, so wrong. 

He saw the empty bottle of Whiskey. He picked it up. “That was the last sip of my good Whiskey,” he remarked. 

You stopped moving. 

“I’ll pick up a new one,” your voice was barely above a whisper. “Stores are still open. This is my fault. Let me clean this up and I will–”

“You had one job.”

The sound of his voice turned cold, colder than usual. You exhaled a shaky breath. 

“You had one job,” he said. “I go to work, I save lives, and I teach young, useless doctors like you how to do the same. All I asked of you was to cook dinner, clean the apartment and make me a fucking drink.” 

With each word, his volume ascended. Your shoulder started vibrating, but you forced yourself to hold your breath. You couldn’t let the fear show. Being afraid, in his eyes, equaled weakness, and he would prove to you time and time again what weakness truly meant to him. He would turn you into a weak mess and laugh about it. You were trying your hardest to avoid any more unnecessary punishment. You had to tread lightly. He was in charge, not you. 

And you breaking the glass was so stupid, all you wanted was to surrender. In your twisted mind, he was right. It was just a glass, but he told you how useless you were many times before, and you were slowly starting to believe it. 

Without him, you were nothing. No one else could have possibly put up with you.

“What do you do?” He reached out and slammed the empty bottle on the ground. 

You barely had time to react before some of the bigger shards hit your cheek, slicing the skin. It took you a second to process, the pain not even kicking in because you expected his hand to come down on you, not an entire glass bottle. The trajectory almost hit your eye. Almost. 

“You spill my fucking drink!” this time, he yelled. 

A sob escaped your lips. There it was, the smallest sign of fear and pain. 

He rolled his eyes. You shouldn’t have sobbed, you knew that. “Get up,” he said. 

You winced when he grabbed you and yanked you off the floor. The trail of blood ran hot on your cold cheek. It stung. Your heart was pounding in your chest, hammering against your ribcage and the fresh bruise that still hadn’t healed. 

You were scared, and the tighter he grabbed you, forcing your chin upward to look him dead in the eyes, the harder it got to hide what you were truly feeling. In his eyes, you were nothing. And you were so weak, all you could do was to submit. 

“Look at me,” he said. His eyes roamed your face. 

You couldn’t not look at him. It was impossible. What you saw made you sick to your very stomach. It tied a noose around your neck, threatening to kick you off the high chair. Your feet were dangling dangerously close to the cliff. 

“You’re pathetic, you hear me? Useless. You had one job. One. And you couldn’t even do that right.”

You opened your mouth, but instead of letting you speak, his hand tangled in your hair and he pulled, hard. “No!” he bellowed. “You have lost the right to speak to me.” 

He said your name. He always said it in a way that made you want to vomit. Your first and last names were tainted because of him. He used them in vain. He used you. He used everything as he saw fit and believed he was entitled to it. 

You hated him, but you also loved him.

“You’re going to clean up the mess you made, and then you’re going to go to the store, buy me another bottle of Whiskey, and you’re going to make me another drink. I don’t want to hear a single word out of you,” he said. “Are we clear?”

You nodded. He pulled a little harder. 

“What was that?”

“Yes, sir,” you choked out. 

When he finally let you go, you fell to the floor, your chest heaving with dry sobs. Perhaps he was too annoyed or maybe leaving you alone, finally, was a display of humanity. 

The man you once believed to have loved you turned out to be a monster that would not have wept, not possibly, if you had died. He only wanted to control you, and whenever he felt like he couldn’t, he punished you. You stayed way too long because you believed in someone who was never there in the first place. The real him you believed to know once had never been real. He had been a fraud. He did anything he possibly could to lure you in, and then you were stuck. 

But even knowing this, you wanted to please him, and you took what he gave you. You ate it up like a starved cavewoman. You had no one else but him, and that alone is a sad thought that you keep entertaining now. 

The sound of broken glass has haunted you since that day. Whenever it happens, either to you or someone else, you find yourself in a state of shock. It’s never the same memory, but always alike. And it hurts. It hurts so much, you can’t breathe. 

You touch your left cheek. The scar is barely visible anymore, but whenever you touch it, it feels like a mountain of regret. You can still feel the blood pooling under your fingertips, the liquid as sticky as it was hot. 

You stumble over to the sink, circling the broken glass. Cold water; your senses need a sudden slap across the face or you will cower in a corner and surely die. Your heartbeat is racing in your ears, and your fingers shake as you form a bowl with your hands to catch the water from the tap. 

Air returns to your lungs. Burying your face in the cold water, you focus on the way it seeps into your hot skin.

Broken glass triggers you. Squeaky footsteps in the hospital hallways trigger you. You zone out so easily. You can’t talk to strangers without suspecting the worst. Every time you pass the hospital administrator’s office, you’re scared you will get fired—that you will lose your job and your entire career. 

He took everything from you. He broke you and the optimistic young woman you used to be. You were so bright, so ready to change your life for the better. You worked hard to escape the toxicity of your childhood, and you still managed to run into the arms of an abusive narcissist who saw you as nothing but his property. 

It’s sad, and it’s utterly ironic; you told yourself you would never make the same mistake your mom made before she died, and you still did. You were foolish, and you’re still foolish now. 

You can’t call Matthew. You can’t trust anyone, not even yourself, and even if he is trustworthy, he doesn’t deserve someone as damaged as you. 

The business card lands in the trash can under the sink. You give it one last teary-eyed look before slamming it shut. It’s better this way. The excitement you felt when you first held it in your hands was bound to only be temporary. You knew reality would screw it up, maybe it truly is for the best. Or maybe this is the trauma talking and you’re sabotaging yourself, but even then it’s better this way. 

It’s early in the morning, and you leave the broken glass on the sticky kitchen floor. You can’t touch it, not even with gloves. Every time you do, the scar on your cheek stings, and you lose your breath. Every bone, muscle, and nerve is hurting in your body, and every breath tears right through your soul. 

You don’t want to live like this anymore.

The warm water of your small shower rains down on your clothes frame. The bottle of wine in your hand is no longer cold and mixed with water, but you don’t care. Your mind is fuzzy, intoxicated, and in agony. It’s a raging wave of anger with no possible point of release. You’re drowning in despair, buried in a grave of your own making. Alcohol knowingly doesn’t mix well with heartache, but it’s the only thing that will make the voices go away. It silences your thoughts just long enough for you to find a sliver of rest in this stormy ocean, something to hold onto so you won’t drown completely. 

Your heartbeat aligns with the rhythmic pattering of the water. It serenades you. The fog engulfs your brain, weakening your already strained muscles. The cocktail in your veins is poisonous. You should know better than to do this to yourself. You’re a doctor, after all. You are well aware that liquor is not medicine, but it’s the closest you can get. You don’t care as much about your own well-being as you should. 

Getting drunk all by yourself under the hot shower stream fits right into your miserable state.

The sun rises and falls over the next couple of hours. Your alarm goes as night befalls Hell’s Kitchen, but you don’t hear it. Only after it has gotten dark and your phone has started ringing with calls from the hospital does your mind registers that something isn’t quite right. 

You wake up in a cold sweat. Your head is pounding. The wine bottle lies empty on the nightstand next to you, together with a bottle of tequila that you decided to open. Glasses are strewn around with empty takeout containers that are more than a few days old. At first, you’re disoriented, reaching beside you for your phone, which is still in the living room next door. 

You forgot to close the blinds, but you were so out of it that you didn’t notice the hours pass by. The analog clock on the bedside table tells you that it’s a few hours before eleven. At night. 

Your shift was supposed to start at ten. 

The information takes a moment to connect and process, but as soon as it does, you snap out of whatever hungover state you are in and force yourself out of bed. You stumble over empty bottles and dirty laundry on your way to your phone.

“Shit, shit, shit!” you curse. You almost step into the pile of broken glass in the kitchen. “Fuck me! Shit!”

You are screwed, you know that. You’re not even sure if all the alcohol has left your system. You might as well lose your job tonight. 

With one hand, you dial the hospital administrator’s number, who called you over thirty times over the past hour, while you try to find something to wear with your other hand. 

The line finally clicks after what feels like an eternity. “You better have a damn good reason why you aren’t here, Olivia, or I swear to God–”

You cut her off. “I’m so sorry, Shelly,” you say. Your voice is slightly shaky, but you keep it together. “I didn’t hear my alarm a-and I slept in. This has never happened before. I’m usually a very light sleeper. I… I’m already halfway out the door, I promise. I’m sorry.”

“You slept in?!” Shelly answers, her voice resembling a screech. “What— Liv, seriously, are you okay?”

“I’m fine. I just… I slept in, that’s all. I’m so, so sorry. I know I screwed up.”

“Unbelievable. First Claire calls out with a mystery illness that apparently still hasn’t gone away, and then my best trauma surgeon sleeps in.” You can hear her shake her head over the noise of the hospital in the background. She sighs. “You’re lucky that this is your first tardy,” she says. “I’ll let it slide just this once. Just… hurry, okay?”

A weight falls off your shoulders. You let out an audible sigh of relief. “Thank you,” you tell her. “You have no idea how much this means to me. I–”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Just make sure you get here before midnight. And you will have to work the time that you’ve missed, even if that puts you at risk of having to pull a double shift. This is not up for debate. I feel like I’m working at a children’s daycare.”

You’re not sure if that was meant for you or if she simply forgot to hang up.

You grab your bag and your keys in one swift motion. “I’m leaving now. See ya!”

The bus you usually take to work at this time of night is long gone. There is one more that could take you to your destination, but you arrive at the bus stop just a millisecond too late. It takes off right in front of you, refusing to turn back even when you start sprinting after it, flailing your arms around wildly. 

It’s late, it’s dark, and you’re all alone. The walk to the hospital is over half an hour long, and you promised Shelly you would make it in time before midnight. The next cab is miles away; you’ve checked the app twice, and anything beyond that would be too expensive. 

Hell’s Kitchen is dangerous at this time of night, but you don’t have much of a choice. If you don’t try, there is a high chance Shelly will fire you. If she fires you, you would have to find another country to start over in—you burned bridges in all possible States, and anything closer to where you came from would be too dangerous for you. 

Darkness doesn’t scare you; broken glass and loud footsteps scare you, but the dark of the night has always been somewhat of a soothing companion to you. What scares you is what could be lurking in that very darkness, and the thought makes you walk a little faster. 

Your head is still pounding. Every step you take delivers a punch to your temples. You can feel your heartbeat in your throat. The streetlights are suddenly too bright for your sensitive eyes, but you push through. You have to. 

“So stupid,” you mutter under your breath. “Universe, if you can hear me, just kill me now.”

Passing a particularly dark part of town with the mace on your keychain clutched tightly in your hand, a loud scream pierces the air. Your feet glue themselves to the ground. 

Some things you can only understand if you have experienced the paralyzing feeling of dread that would cause a human being to scream bloody murder. 

You would be lying if you said that the scream you heard coming from that alley wasn’t in any way familiar to you. Perhaps that’s why you choose to abandon all rational thought and run toward danger rather than away from it. Adrenaline is a funny thing, and when it interacts with trauma and anger that has been building for years, there is no knowing what the human body might be capable of doing. 

With the mace in your hand, you walk toward the alley. The closer you get, the louder the desperate pleas grow. The helplessness in the woman’s voice paints a clear picture of what is happening. 

“Hey!” your voice resembles a shout in the poorly lit alley. “Why don’t you pick on someone your own size?” you ask. Your voice becomes a foreign language. 

The man, dressed in a pair of ripped jeans and a hoodie, is towering over a terrified woman. The bottom of her dress is slightly ripped, and it keeps riding up as she struggles against his grip. 

From the corner of your eye, you can see the shiny handle of a knife sticking out of his boot; there is no telling when or if he will pull it. And when you look into his empty eyes, you realize you overestimated yourself. 

“Get lost!” the man tells you. He must be around your age, judging from his features. 

You shake your head. “I have no intention of letting you live out your disgusting rape fantasies on a real-life human being,” you retort. “Let her go, or I will call the cops.”

He takes a step toward you, his hand reaching for the knife. Instinctively, you extend your keychain and spray the pepper directly into his eyes. You empty the entire bottle on him, the adrenaline in your veins locking your thumb to the fragile button.

The woman slides out of her attacker’s grasp when he topples over in agony. He cries out. The spray is quickly causing the skin around his eyes to redden and swell. For a moment, he’s completely incapacitated. 

You can tell that he didn’t calculate for this to happen. He also doesn’t seem to know the woman he decided to attack personally. He just saw a woman walking alone at night and thought he could take what he wanted like the animal he is. 

Your eyes flick toward the woman. Sweat is starting to pool from your pores, mixing with the adrenaline. 

She adjusts her dress, her sobs turning into heavy panting. You know that look on her face all too well. She has scratches on her thighs and arms. It’s hard to tell just how badly he already hurt her before you came along, at least in this lighting and from where you’re standing. 

You reach out to support her. “Are you alright?” you ask her. 

She looks down at her shaky hands, then back at you. She reminds you of a deer in headlights. With a gentle tug, you pull her further out of the alley. The man who attacked her is still blinded, clutching his skull and scratching at his eyes, making the effects of the pepper spray worse. In your mind, he can’t hurt you anymore, but you still need to get her away from him—as far as possible, too. 

“A few cuts and bruises,” you observe, trying not to touch her as you assess her injuries. “Listen, I’m going to call the cops and we’re gonna get you to a hospital, alright?” You search her eyes until she finally looks back at you. “This is nothing I can’t stitch up in a few minutes,” you say, “and then I’ll get you someone who can help you process what happened. Just know that he can’t hurt you anymore. I promise. I’m a witness, and I will make sure he gets what he deserves.”

You should know better than to make promises, especially in the heat of the moment. This is not something you can confidently promise because things might not turn out in your favor. 

The woman pulls her arms away suddenly. “No! No cops, no hospitals,” she pleads. 

“I know you’re scared, believe me, I do, but–”

“No!” She shakes her head again, her voice becoming more determined as the seconds tick by. 

You wish the world wasn’t as cruel as it is. You can’t force her. If it were easy, you probably would have turned to law enforcement too, but it’s not easy. What hurts the most is that you understand why she is so adamant about not calling the police and not going to a hospital, even with so many variables still unknown; you understand too well what it is like. 

Shame and fear are powerful emotions—when all else fails, they take over. 

“I’m sorry,” the woman’s voice quivers. She looks between you and her attacker once more. “Thank you, really, but I can’t—I have to go. I’m so sorry.”

“Wait!” You try to stop her, but she slips through your fingers before you can convince her otherwise. 

She disappears down the street. Calling the police seems almost futile now. You look down at your phone. You’re still a witness to a crime. You should speak up about what you saw. You should try to get justice, even if it will be your word against his. 

Your finger hovers above the call button, but a dark voice from the alley stops you in your tracks. “You bitch!” the man shouts. His voice carries, making you shiver. Now that you’re alone with him, you realize how helpless the situation really is. 

You can’t move. You can’t run. You can’t hide. Your eyes widen. Even half-blind, he has managed to pull the dirty knife from his boot, and he is charging right at you. As if you are the substitute for the woman you just saved. You should have run with her. This was a bad idea. 

“Fuck,” you curse under your breath. You press down on your keychain, but it’s empty now. You’re weaponless with a lot of fake confidence that is slowly swindling, and somehow, you still can’t move. 

You’re frozen in place. Your own recklessness will get you killed. No one will miss you. Your corpse will be buried in a strange cemetery in a strange city that has only been your home for two years, and no one will ever know who you truly were because you told Claire to take your secrets to the grave with her. You will die alone with the familiar feeling of fear and despair spreading through your veins like wildfire. 

Something inside of you cracks, and it melts your frozen muscles. You snap out of your haze when he is only a few inches away from you. In an instant, you have started backing out of the alley almost entirely. You’re running, and you’re running fast. 

You believe that karma comes back around, but sometimes, it takes the wrong direction. You lose your footing suddenly, stumbling over your own shoes, and your ass hits the pavement with a force that knocks the breath out of your lungs. Your wrists bend at a painful angle as you catch yourself, and you look up into the red eyes of what you expect to be your certain demise. 

The impact from the knife never comes. You know what it feels like to be impaled by a sharp object. You know what pain feels like—but it never comes. 

You open your eyes when your ears pick up on the sound of bone breaking—the sight you’re met with startles you, and for a second, you wonder if you’re still alive. You touch your wrist to check for a pulse; it’s still there. You’re not dead, and you’re not hallucinating, either. This is real. 

You’ve seen the news reporting on a man in a black mask scouring the streets of Hell’s Kitchen at night. For weeks now, gang bangers, suspected rapists, and drug dealers have been piling up in the emergency room with several fractures, some of them severe enough to require extensive surgery, but none of them were ever hurt enough to die from their injuries. 

A Russian was dropped from a building a while back. He fell into a coma and then died suddenly a few nights ago, but that was the only patient who got beat up by the infamous Devil of Hell’s Kitchen who lost all quality of life. 

You don’t like to judge, but there is something about him that makes you feel safe rather than afraid. He only beats up those who are in the business of committing injustice and pose a danger to innocent lives. He’s there when the law fails. And so far, he has never killed anyone. The injuries on the patients you treated were quite severe and suggested that whoever did it has a great collection of anger issues, but he has enough self-control not to kill. 

He’s not a threat to people like you. He is, however, a threat to the kind of man who tried to rape an innocent woman and then threatened you with a knife. 

Your attacker drops to the ground with a pained grunt. The man in the mask is towering over him, his chest heaving. You admire his physique for a moment too long. Your eyes trail from his toned chest in that tight black shirt to his backside in those tight-fitting black pants. 

He seems oddly familiar yet, at the same time, he is a total stranger. A stranger in a mask. A stranger who throws fists like a professional boxer. A stranger who could crush your head within seconds. And still, there is something about him that reminds you of someone else, someone you just recently met, but you can’t put your finger on it. It wouldn’t even make sense if you tried. 

You’re still sitting on the cold asphalt, staring up at the man who saved you. He turns his head toward you, slowly. His plump lips glisten in the moonlight. 

“You hurt?” he asks. 

Your throat is all dried up. One glance down at your palms tells you that you only scraped the skin, but you’re not injured. So, you shake your head. Maybe there is a little fear mixed into your stunned eyes, but only because this is a very strange situation to find yourself in, and you have been in a lot of very strange situations in the past. 

He tilts his head ever so slightly. His nostrils flare. “You’re bleeding.”

You don’t even want to know how he knows that.

“Just a scratch,” you finally manage to speak up, although your voice sounds embarrassingly small.

You wipe your palms on your pants and slowly rise to your feet. Every bone in your body hurts. Standing across from him, you realize how much taller he is in person. 

“I’m not gonna hurt you,” he says. 

“I know.”

He stops. You can’t see his eyes, but the lower part of his face reveals the confusion that has taken him over. 

“I’ve dealt with men worse than you,” you state. “I’m not scared.”

He chuckles darkly. “You’re welcome.”

People usually don’t talk back at him, it seems. At least those he saves usually don’t. 

“I could’ve defended myself. In fact, I already did.” You lift your keychain. “I don’t know if playing the hero is your thing, but I’m not a victim.”

“Yeah, I know.”

“Excuse me?”

“I wasn’t trying to play hero,” he clarifies, a humorless smirk resting on his lips, “I was saving your life ‘cause you were trying to play the hero. Next time, I suggest you don’t bring mace to a knife fight.”

“And I suggest you don’t put your nose where it doesn’t belong,” you retort. 

You were grateful for no longer than a second. Now, you’re just annoyed. 

The alley is still. The atmosphere is heavy with the aftermath of the danger you only narrowly escaped—thanks to him, and you hate admitting that even to yourself. He seems unfazed, almost amused, by your attempts at asserting your independence, and the arrogance radiating off him is hitting the wrong nerve.

“This guy was gonna kill you because you decided to do the right thing,” he says, adjusting his leather gloves. “I decided to save your life. We both made decisions tonight, and it doesn’t matter whether we are happy with them or not. What matters is that no one got hurt.”

“Tell that to the woman he traumatized for life.”

He sighs at your words. “You still did the right thing.”

“I know,” you say.

“Are you always this feisty?”

“Only to masked vigilantes who think I’m some damsel in distress that needs saving and that everything can be solved with their pretty little fists.”

“Well, my pretty little fists are the reason you didn’t end up stabbed, so,” he answers, and his lips curl into a smug smirk. He shrugs, his black shirt riding up only slightly, revealing a sliver of marble skin. You can’t help but let your eyes wander.

“I don’t need a thank you,” he says, “but you need to be more careful next time. Don’t go into dark alleys alone, especially at night. It’s not safe.”

You want to give a snarky remark, but the sound of church bells in the background signal to you that it’s midnight, and you are supposed to be at work. Checking your phone would be a death sentence. Sirens can be heard in the background, but they are not headed for you. 

Maybe Shelly won’t fire you if you’re honest with her about what conspired tonight—if you bare you allow her a glimpse into your soul—but you will suffer the consequences of your own stupidity gravely in the days to come, that much you do know. 

You exhale an exasperated sigh. “I don’t have time for this,” you mutter. 

“Got somewhere to be?” the masked man asks you. 

“As a matter of fact, I do. But that’s none of your business.”

You wonder if he’s frowning under that thin cloth that is hiding his real identity. He still seems so familiar to you. How can he fight if he’s keeping his eyes covered? It’s not the first question you have asked yourself about him, but it surely is the most prominent one because no explanation for it makes sense to you; at least not one you can think of. You want to ask, but you also don’t want to keep encouraging him. You shouldn’t care.

You look back down at the man he knocked out. He’s still unconscious, and he’s bleeding profusely. The angry woman in you wants to let him rot here and let the masked man have his fun, but the doctor in you can’t just leave him there. 

“What about him?” you hear yourself asking, but your mind is far away. 

He tilts his head toward where you’re pointing, not actively looking. How could he? His eyes are covered. His eyes… You can’t make sense of this, and it is affecting your judgment. It’s making you frustrated. 

“He can’t touch you anymore,” his dark voice suddenly sounds so soft. 

A sliver of humanity shines through his facade. Your angry demeanor cracks. “You beat him up pretty good. He could have lasting brain damage,” you remark. 

He pauses, tilting his head further toward the man on the ground. “No,” he says, pouting a little. “He’s still breathing.”

“He could still have brain damage.”

“He has a few broken bones, cuts, bruises, but he’s alive.”

“Those things are totally unrelated. You’re not a doctor, you wouldn’t understand. I’ve already treated more bad guys in the past month than I could possibly count on my fingers, and all of them seemed to fear the same man. Now, not many things can scare a gangbanger to death. Not many people can deliver blows so deliberately without actually fatally wounding anyone. I know it was you,” you say. “Everyone knows it was you, and they’re afraid of you. I’m not, but I am a doctor, and I took an oath to do no harm. I vowed to help those in need, including those I believe may not be worthy of my help. This has nothing to do with judgment. I know you don’t kill; I see it with my own eyes every damn night, but the Russian you beat up a couple days ago?”

That catches his attention. His head whips back around to you, his upper lip twitching slightly as if he is tasting the air. His attention is entirely on you. The question, “What?” gets lost as nothing but a breathless whisper in the cold night air. 

“He was in a coma,” you continue, “and then he died. It’s probably unrelated to what you did, but there was only a small chance he would have ever woken up again anyway. Just because someone is still breathing doesn’t mean their brain is alive. What makes us human, who we are, that is all anchored in our brains. We can’t survive without it. You may not have killed him, but that guy barely had any brain activity left, and that is not something you can consider life.”

You didn’t expect him to sneer. You must have hit a nerve with your words, but it must have hurt him deeply. 

“My point is, I am not letting you do the same to this guy. I’m calling an ambulance and the police, and I will let them figure this out.”

“He’ll walk,” he says, and his voice is dark again. It sends shivers down your spine. 

You look at him, your confidence not wavering this time. “Then so be it, but I am not letting him die,” you say. 

“How is having a rapist walk the streets of this city not doing harm?”

You raise your eyebrows. “Beg your pardon?”

“He will do this again, and maybe next time there will be no one to step in and he will hurt another woman.”

“So what, you want to kill him instead of surrendering him to the authorities?”

“That’s not what I do.”

“Then what do you do?”

“I’m trying to make this city a better place!”

His voice bounces off the walls building a cage around the alley. “And I’m just trying to save a human life, even if it’s a shitty one!” you shoot back. “It’s not our choice who gets to play God, okay? Death would be too kind for a man like him, and leaving him here won’t solve anything either. Like it or not, but I’m not breaking my oath.”

You made a promise when you became a doctor, and you are not going to risk letting someone die on your watch. That could get you into a lot of trouble. 

You approach your attacker’s limp body. When you kneel next to him, a gush of wind blows through your hair. You assess his skull, his abdomen, and his limbs. So far, all you can see are superficial wounds, and the same fractures you have seen pass through the emergency room more than once in the past couple of weeks. He did a number on him, but his pulse feels normal and he is breathing. 

You lift your head, but when you do, you find the spot before you empty. The Devil of Hell’s Kitchen has disappeared into the darkness, leaving you to fend for yourself. You should have seen this coming. 

The ambulance takes a while to arrive after you’ve dialed 911. You try your best to keep the man stabilized, but he remains unresponsive. When help finally arrives, the emergency responders are followed by police, and you don’t hesitate to give your statement. You leave the masked vigilante that saved your life out of it—you may not have seen eye to eye just now, but you don’t want to rat him out either. You owe him as much. 

Just as you’re picking your purse off the dirty ground to follow the EMTs to the hospital in the ambulance, giving you the perfect excuse to give to Shelly on why you are even later than you already were, a glimpse of silver in the shadows catches your attention. 

“You did the right thing,” the Devil speaks only loud enough for you to hear, hiding in the darkness protecting the fire escape of the nearest building. 

You swallow your pride. “Thank you,” you finally tell him. 

He chuckles. “For telling you that or saving your life?”

“Both,” and you even offer him a small smile with your gratitude. That is all you’re capable of giving him, for now. 

“Take care,” he says. 

The glimpse of silver disappears, causing the metal of the fire escape to shake under his weight, and he is long gone before you even whisper, “You too.”

Tag List: @shiorimakibawrites @allllium @siampie @auroraslibrary @roseallisonparker @abucketofweird @thatonegamefish @capylore @kniselle @sumo-b98 @peachstarliight @danzer8705 @kakamixo @littlehappyperson @atemydadforbreakfast @stevenknightmarc @zheezs14

[holdupjack]

Smells Like Christmas

——————

Pairing: Hermione Granger x Fem!Reader

AU: Slytherin Reader/No War Plot

WARNING: None

——————

Third Person P.O.V:

Spring, 6th Year

Hermione was sitting in the Gryffindor Common Room when she saw a certain Slytherin pop into the room. She smiled softly as they dusted off their pants, but quickly hid it when their eyes connected. They make their way to her and smile while carrying an arm full of books.

"Hey, Hermione" Y/n says with a grin, as she takes the seat in front of the Gryffindor.

"Hello Y/n/n" she responded, as she focused her attention back on the book in front of her.

You know, Hermione really doesn't understand why Y/n was placed in Slytherin, she didn't act like the others-

"I think love is a lie"

Ah, never mind. There it is.

Hermione looked up from her book and gave a raised eyebrow in response. This was peculiar, Y/n was usually the one that romanticized everything.

"Why?" She asks, expecting her to say that she has been rejected by a love interest. Her stomach tightened at the thought alone.

"Because! There is no way to prove it's real" Y/n replied as she set down her books and opened up her Alchemy Assignment.

Hermione chuckled softly as she shut her book and grabbed the potions one beside her. Y/n waited patiently for the reason for her ominous laugh.

"True there is no way to prove it to you, but there is a way to see if you do like someone," Hermione says as she flips to the page she was looking for.

"Here" she states as she turns the book toward Y/n, who hummed softly.

"Amortentia? Really Hermione? We learned this in the fourth year." she groans, to which Hermione rolls her eyes in response.

"So? At least it proves you can love" Hermione mumbles with tease, Y/n laughs loudly.

She quickly covered her mouth as she looked over to the other Gryffindor Perfect in the corner. Ron sighed and shook his head at the two, usually Prefects kept the Common Room quiet, but he was in no way going against Hermione. She was the other Prefect anyway.

"Hey, I can love! I just don't think she likes me is all." Y/n replies as she begins to complete her assignment with a glaze of upset in her eyes.

Hermione nodded at the quiet confession that sounded like it came from a voice of anxiety than herself.

"Have you made the potion recently, just to be certain? " she asks and Y/n shakes her head while jotting down an answer on her paper.

"And why not?" Hermione asks as Y/n sighs softly, her hair moving slightly from the wind blowing in from the window nearby.

"Because, if I smelled her in the fourth year, I'd get the same results again. Nothing has changed," she replies as Hermione leans back and laughs quietly. Her eyes comb the Common Room, but is empty.

"What about you? Do you think yours will be the same as if was in the fourth year?" Y/n asks as she looks back up at the Gryffindor, who hums in thought before answering.

"Probably not, my eyes have fallen for others since then," she says with a small smile, to which Y/n chuckled in response.

"Wouldn't it be crazy if you smelled multiple people?" Y/n asks, causing Hermione to grin and gently kick her leg under the table.

"It will only be one. I'm not that indecisive." Hermione states as the Slytherin snickered to herself at the thought.

Hermione's head tilts slightly as she watches the witch calm herself down from all her giggles.

"Anyways, isn't weird that you know what they smell like because you love it so much?" Y/n then asks, which the Gryffindor shrugs at.

"Not really, you smell like Christmas. I like it." She states as Y/n raises an eyebrow with a smile to go along with it.

"Christmas? What am I? A walking hallmark card?" Y/n questions, causing Hermione to laugh softly at the similarities.

"Come on, do the potion with me! Now I'm tempted to see if I'll smell more than one person" She chuckles out, but Y/n just shrugs.

"Eh, maybe later?" she says as she gets more comfortable in the chair, letting her head lean against the backrest.

"Fine, if you won't do the potion, then I will" Hermione hums as she stands up. Y/n's eyes widened at the statement as she sat back up.

"How about we do a different one? Uh...we can make Ron drink the Ageing Potion!" she suggests, causing Hermione to raise her eyebrow at the idea.

"ALL OF IT!" Y/n claims. Hermione pinches the bridge of her nose.

"He'll be like a hundred and sixteen. What happens if he falls, breaks a hip, and dies?" She asked as Y/n fiddled with her Quill.

"We'll remember the virgin ginger fondly" she responds as a smile starts to break out onto her lips.

"Hey!' Ron yells from somewhere in the Gryffindor tower, making Y/n look around with paranoia.

"He's going to throw me out of the window" she whispers in a slight panic, to which Hermione shook her head and sighed.

"I'll be back" she hums as she walks toward the tunnel, opting to grab the supplies from the Potions Classroom.

"Don't leave me here!"

——————

Hermione returned later, huffing slightly from the shimmy she had to perform to get through the tunnel with everything. When she finally got back onto solid ground, she found the young Slytherin fast asleep in the chair.

At least Ron didn't 'throw her out the window'.

"God, she acts like I was gone for ages" Hermione whispers as she quietly begins to set up her cauldron on the table.

Her potions textbook was soon cast to float at eye level as she waited for the water(?) to boil. She took a seat back in her chair and stared at Y/n.

(A/N: Logically all potions should start with water...right? Or is there some special liquid that they use? Whatever, it's my Imagine so it's water.)

"I wonder what it'll smell like" Hermione hums, watching as Y/n's eyes darted under her eyelids like a pinball machine.

Hermione had always favored Y/n more than most of her friends. Finding any excuses to bring her along to functions or study sessions.

Finding ways to just be alone with her.

Yet, she didn't smell Y/n in her fourth year. She had found Ron's scent wafting into her nose.

So any inkling of interest she thought she had in the girl, quickly disappeared. It was showing her what her heart desired, so it must be true!

Of course, feelings for Ron were lost as time went on. Replaced with a brother/sister relationship more than anything.

The water was boiling when her attention was brought back from the void of her mind. A soft 'huff' left her lips as she stood up.

It didn't take long to make, but crushing up a pearl for its dust did take a few minutes.

She then threw in the Ashwinder Eggs, Rose Thorns, Peppermint Leaves, Powdered Moonstone, and Rose Petals.

Almost immediately a very familiar scent started to flow through her nose as she stirred her brew.

"Peppermint, cinnamon, and...pine trees" she whispers as she sniffs the concoction again.

"It's smells like..-"

A smile broke out on her lips, her suspicions now being confirmed as her eyes landed back on the woman before her.

"Christmas." She whispers as her eyes soften at the small movements Y/n made in her slumber.

"Hermione why are you so close to me?" Y/n grumbles with sleep in her voice, Hermione furrows her eyebrows at the question.

"I'm not" She replies as she tilts her head at the still shut-eyed Y/n.

"I can clearly smell you, you're right-" Y/n cuts herself off when she sits up to find Hermione standing in front of a pink smoking cauldron.

"Here...uh oh." She whispers as her gaze averts from the woman in front of her, down at the table.

It's quiet for a while as Hermione shut off the bunsen burner underneath the pot, and carefully placed everything out of the way from her line of sight of the Slytherin.

"So...do I smell nice?" Hermione asks as she sits back down, causing Y/n to snicker slightly and apprehensively look back at her.

"Yes, very nice. Like parchment and old book, and a little bit of coconut" Y/n replies as she gazes back down at the table, a soft breath gets caught in her throat when Hermione stands up and pulls her seat closer to Y/n.

She sat back down at the head of the table as the room filled their noses with the potion. Some would consider this too strong, but Hermione liked it. It was sort of like sitting next to a burning Yankee Candle.

"I told you, my favorite scent is Christmas." Hermione hums as she watches the gears turn in Y/n's head. Their eyes met and held no secrets between them.

"You knew, didn't you?" Y/n asks and Hermione shrugs but smiles kindly.

"No, not about your feelings. I had an idea about who I might smell, but I'm very happy to find out you feel the same." She replies quietly as a group of students walk into the Common Room loudly, before disappearing back up the stairs.

"So...what now?" Y/n asks as her face seems as red as Hermione's tie. The Gryffindor thought a moment and looked out the open window. The sun was setting soon, and the nightlife would be out and about for the Spring festival in Irondale.

"Will you accompany me to the festival? It starts soon." Hermione suggests as her eyes fall back onto an awestruck Y/n. Somewhere in the Slytherin's mind, she had thought the Lioness beauty would tell her to never speak of this.

Which sounded ridiculous knowing that she said she felt the same, but you never know.

"A-Alright, when should we meet?" Y/n asks as she clears her throat, watching as the setting sun turns Hermione eyes into a bright hot chocolate color.

"We'll meet outside the grounds, near the south entrance. Is seven o'clock alright?" Hermione asked as she helped Y/n gather her things from the table, their fingers brushing one another's as she passed her books or papers.

"Uh, of course! I'll see you then" Y/n replies as she stands up, whispering a quick goodbye as she tries to get herself ready as quickly as possible for, supposedly, a date with Hermione Granger.

"Y/n?" Hermione calls before the Slytherin begins to crawl through the tunnel. She turns back with intrigue as the Gryffindor tempted her back with a beckoning gesture with her index finger.

Y/n slowly walked back over as Hermione stood up and stared at her with a soft gaze.

"Yes?" Y/n asks as she gets close enough.

Hermione just smiled as she gently grasped the woman's chin and planted a soft kiss dangerously close to her mouth.

She noticed the blood that had rushed back into Y/n's cheeks as she began to back away, which encouraged Hermione to kiss the burning skin to unknowingly stake her claim.

"You flatter me with the color your skin makes due to my touch" Hermione hums quietly as Y/n stared at her with anticipation.

"I know you must drink the potion to become infatuated, but the pleasure my heart feels as the smell of you wafts into my lungs with every breath I take. It's intoxicating." She whispers as Y/n ghosted her lips over Hermione's.

"Hey! No making out in the Common Room!"

Y/n jumps back as Hermione rolls her eyes, looking up at the balcony to find Ron and Harry grinning like the brothers they acted as.

"You two are assholes, you know that?" Hermione asks as Y/n quietly whispers that she'll see her later and make her grand escape from the Gryffindor tower.

"Assholes? She must be really mad Harry! Hermione never cusses" Ron snickered as Harry shook his head and gave a small apologetic smile to his female companion down below.

"You're just jealous that I'm getting more action than you are" Hermione replies as she begins to pack up her things. Ron's joking attitude drops as Harry laughs loudly.

"Shut up Harry! I get as much action as you Mione!" Ron defends, but instead of backing off from her jab at him, she decides to go all in.

"Oh really? That's not what the girls are saying" Hermione replies. She huffed quietly as she carefully carried the cauldron toward the tunnel, deciding to sell off the batch to Hannah Abbot so she could sell bottles of it to their schoolmates.

Technically, her making the potion was against school rules. She won't tell if you don't.

"What are they saying?"

Hermione just left instead of answering, smiling triumphantly as her day ended beautifully.

She had a date with her gorgeous Slytherin, she was about to get a good amount of money for said date, and she got the last word against Ron.

This was something out of a fairytale.

"Hermione! What did they say!"

[silvervioletvalentine]

🖤it’s been a long time coming but…🖤

Pairing: Quinn Hughes X Cherrie!

Word count : 10k

Summary : in which his roommates sister is staying for the summer. And he promises not to fall in love with her.

Or- Quinn hates being told what to do. And cherries a mean little bitch with the face of an Angel. How was he supposed to not fall in love with her?

Warnings- fluff? There both little bullies to each other cause they’re in love. Duh. Kind of a , he fell first thing. She’s blunt and mean. He’s also dishes it back. Her brother is dumb and wondering what the f is going on. Thats it I think. I don’t even know if it’s any good or makes any sense cause I wrote it at 3am last night soooo…yeah. Lemme know what u think xoxo oh yeah and Quinn’s a swiftie because I said so. I finally got my era( with blood sweat and so many fucking tears) tickets so expect a lot of Taylor song themed oneshots lmfao.

Quinn knew that something was wrong the moment he woke up that morning to find his roommate and close friend , Roman, pacing the front room with his hand running stressfully through his hair , what looked to be a permanent grimace on his face as he stared down at his phone , free hand texting a Mile per minute away.

He eyed him warily as he grabbed himself a bowl and poured some cereal, plopping himself down at the breakfast table to eat .

He yawned "you good?" He mumbled around a spoonful of cereal, barely even awake and kind of wishing that he had just stayed in bed.

It wasn't like he had anything better to do anyway , and really looking at the darkened shade of his eye bags in his spoon, he could really do with some more sleep anyways.

Roman paused , looked down at his phone, looked over at Quinn and then sighed loudly . "No. My sister is coming stay for the summer." He told him, not exactly looking very happy about the fact either.

Quinn rose a brow in confusion , this being the first time he was being told of such plans . Fighting back a groan of misery at the thought of their apartment being invaded by somebody else when all Quinn really wanted was to relax in peace , not invite more people into his man cave.

"Sister?" He repeated barely remembering Roman mentioning his family at all to him "i don't recall ever meeting her." He muttered, wishing that he didn't have to at all.

He wasn't the most sociable of people, he had his small group of friends and quite frankly he just couldn't handle anymore. He was at his limit with people in his life , he didn't want to add anymore onto that small number . He had enough Christmas cards to write out each year as it was.

Roman scoffed , looking a little peeved as he let him know sourly "of course you haven't. She's been living in Milan . Then before that L.A...then Madrid. My little sister can barely be caught...I haven't seen her since last Christmas ." He did Honestly sound upset about it, she was still his baby sister after all.

"And the only reason she was there at all , is because of my mother threatening to axe the credit cards. And even then..she was gone the next day. The little asshole didn't even say goodbye!" He huffed, having been trying to wrangle her for a while now. But every text he sent was put on seen and every call they had usually ended up with them arguing and refusing to speak to the other for months again.

Quinn just frowned , trying not to fall back to sleep face first in cereal.

“So why is she coming here then? Doesn't exactly sound like she wants to be around you at the moment." He snorted a little , amused.

The thought of social , bubbly Roman trying to befriend his moody little sister and getting told to get fucked was hilarious . I mean, he loved his friend but sometimes his 'a friend to all' attitude was a little too much for him, it would be amusing to see him getting humbled like that.

It seemed like Roman wasn't the boss between them at all. How interesting.

Roman laughed "oh she's not coming cause she wants to. She's coming because our mother is making her." He told him with a small smirk , recalling the call from his furious mother letting him know that she would be heading his way soon and that he better make sure that she doesn't wildcard her way out of this again.

"She got involved with mother's hairdressers , husband and well.." he whistled long and hard, amused by the growing list of his sisters fuck ups.

She didn't ever do anything by halves , he would tell you that. "Mother's hairdresser found out and it all blew up. So the family's not too happy with Cherrie right now.." he chuckled.

Quinn looked at him in disbelief , fighting back the grin that wanted to escape, not sure if this was something that he was allowed to laugh about.

"Cherrie? That's her name?" He repeated testing it out on his tongue once Roman nodded his head yes , he then hummed a little "sounds like trouble. You couldn't put her up in a hotel?" He blurted out.

Roman looked at him with a look of shock "Quinn! That’s my sister! Just because she's a bit of a wild child doesn't mean that I'm gonna send her off on her own! God!" He exclaimed , dramatically throwing his hands on his air.

Quinn just rolled his eyes and focused back on his cereal , sighing in misery.

Great. He was going to have a female Roman hanging around , As though one of them wasn't already energy draining enough.

"What does she do?" He asked Him curiously "-besides sleeping with other women’s husbands." He couldn't help himself. Really he couldn't.

Roman glared at him for that comment, Quinn just laughing beneath his breath as he grinned down at his bowl. More than amused with it all.

"She's a model. That's why she travels around." He told him , bringing up his phone and picking a photo of his sister from one of her recent shoots to show him.

Quinn looked up from his bowl , down to his friends phone, then back to his bowl before doing a double take .

His eyes widening in disbelief as he choked on his cereal, spluttering loudly as his face flushed red.

"That's your fucking sister?" He croaked out between his coughs , banging on his chest with his fist , unable to take his eyes away from the phone. Breathing deeply as he tried to fucking breath normally again.

Unable to believe what he was looking at.

He knew her.

Well. He didn't know her personally but he had seen enough of her pretty face on almost every magazine and billboard to know who she was.

She was fucking stunning. Like out of this world , how could it not be plastic surgery , it's so not fair, she must be a siren..it should be illegal to be that hot , kind of beauty.

He looked at the picture of her on vogue Italy , face bare for the stripped down , el natural shoot. Dressed in just a cut up white shirt , shiny hair hanging over her tanned shoulders as she looked straight at the camera with a soft, pouty look on her sun kissed face. Freckles dotted her nose, and if he looked close enough there was a heart shape mole just right beneath her right eye.

Quinn found it hard to breath. Clearing his throat a little as he tried to mask his awe into something more nonchalant instead.

But he glanced back up at his friend to see his act wasn't fooling him at all.

Roman pocketed his phone with a slight frown, eyeing him suspiciously . "Yeah? What's that supposed to mean? Of course she's my sister , where did you think she got her good looks from?" He motioned towards himself with a arrogant grin.

Quinn laughed, harder than he should have giving the offended look he received in return.

"Definitely not you man." He snickered , still slightly in shock over just who his sister was and just what she looked like.

“I just-she doesn't look like the terror you're describing her as." He muttered , getting up off his chair to put his now empty bowl in the sink. More for self distraction than anything.

Roman groaned , shaking his head at him. "That's exactly the problem! She looks like some angel but she's the devil in disguise. Like that Taylor swift song." He started humming the tune of it to him "Darling I’m a nightmare dressed like a -"

Quinn's groan cut him off "yes! I get it! She's the devil. Hot but insane . Okay. I got it." He rushed out not wanting to hear anymore of his terrible singing and butchering of Taylor's songs. It was far too early for it and there was no amount of coffee in the world that could make him sit through the torture of Roman singing at him.

Roman looked offended for a moment "hey!" Then he paused and squinted his eyes at him "did you just call my sister hot?" The disbelief was apparent in his voice . Enough to make Quinn freeze.

He slowly turned to look at his friend, mouth opening and closing several times before "no. I didn't." He denied. Laughing it off. Because he knew what a big deal he would make out of it.

Just like now. Roman laughed loudly "yes you did! You said she's hot but crazy!" He exclaimed.

"No! You did! I was just .. just summing it up!" Quinn argued.

Okay. Just because he wasn't a fucking player and almost permanent single didn't mean he didn’t recognise real beauty when he saw it.

Roman sofffed "bullshit. You think my sisters hot! I can't believe this! Maybe the hotel idea was a good one.." he bemoaned .

Not wanting his sister to sink her claws into his poor friend, he liked Quinn and he didn't want to add the hockey player to the long list of men that Cherrie had broken into pieces for her own entertainment . No thank you.

Quinn once again rolled his eyes at him, annoyed. "Dude. The whole world thinks your sister is hot, it's not news to you. And I'm not fucking blind." He snapped at him shoving past him to throw himself on the couch, hoping for a nap. "It's doesn't mean anything.” He added .

Roman with his Hands on hips just looked at him lazing out on the couch, a bored look on his face as he put on modern family for some background noise. Looking like he was done with the entire conversation.

"So you won’t fall in love with my sister then?" He challenged him. Knowing exactly what she did to men. She was his sister after all and he had the exact same affect on woman. Accidental heartbreakers If you will.

Quinn couldn't have snorted any louder If he tried, he even laughed. "No fucking way! Me?" He scoffed in amusement "falling in love? I don't fucking think so. You should be a comedian man." He said.

Roman just shot him a look, not believing him at all. Because if that was his reaction to just a photo of Cherrie, how was he going to feel when she arrived , prettier in person and staying with them for the whole summer?

He crossed his fingers and hoped that his sister would have some mercy at least. Or to at least pick a different Brother.

By the time that Cherrie arrived at her brother place, she was already getting a lecture from Roman as they walked up the stairs to his apartment . Rolling her eyes as he went on and on , sounding a bit too much like their mother for comfort .

"I'm serious Cherrie. I don't want any drama this time.. the last time you hung out with my friends it ended up in tears!" Roman exclaimed, still having ptsd from that horrible weekend .

Cherrie just groaned at Him, waiting impatiently by the out of service Elevator as she watched her brother haul up her two massive, bright pink suitcases up the stairs. With a large juicy couture rucksack on his back too , she only had her small purse with her phone and money in it on her arm.

Choosing to play with her freshly done nails as she replied amusedly "I didn't shed a single tear."

Roman glared over at her, face sweaty as he huffed and puffed his way to the top. Almost tripping over her ridiculously large suitcase as he did so.

"I wasn't talking about you. I was talking about the guys. I could have become a swimmer with the fucking ocean of tears you made them cry! I don't want any of that shit this time!" He warned her seriously "I mean it."

Bored, tired and grumpy from her flight. Cherrie just sighed and flicked her hair over her shoulder in annoyance.

"Okay. So no hooking up-"

"No!" Roman looked horrified just at the thought "you can do whatever you want on your own time but not with any of my friends. They’re hockey players-" maybe not the best thing to tell her seeing as she loved sporty guys.

She paused at his door, looking over her shoulder at him quietly for a moment before "hockey players?" She hummed out with a small smirk , already picturing them in their jerseys , all strong and talented on the ice.

But the glare her brother shot her shut her up real quick.

"Don't even think about it. They’re good guys Cherrie, and my roommate Quinn . He's really nice but likes his life drama free okay?" He told her as he unlocked the door.

Cherrie scoffed amusedly "he's gonna hate me then. Surprised he likes you at all. You're worse than I am." She tried to rile him up.

It worked.

By the time he had dragged her suitcase into the hallway, the siblings were bickering loudly and shoving at each other like little kids.

"You're such a fucking bore! You can't even take a joke-"

"Oh excuse me if I don't find fucking other people's husbands on a dare funny-"

Her voice went shrill , effectively waking Quinn up from his nap on the couch. But neither of the siblings noticed him yet.

"That was one time! Shut up! Like you haven't had your fair share of fun-"

He blinked his eyes open, yawning as he slowly pulled his body up into a sitting position. Turning his head to look at the noise, he rose a brow in both concern and amusement as he watched her kick at her brothers shin like a child. Roman kicking her right back.

Taking in the sight of the model, Quinn bit down on his bottom lip without even realising it.

Swallowing a little as he looked at her, all tan and worked up, dressed in tiny shorts and a crop top that barely covered a thing. Gucci flip flops that went flying across the room as she threw them at her brother, cursing him out in Spanish now.

She looked way hotter in real life than she did on the magazines. He wasn't sure how it was possible, but she did.

He ran a hand through his hair, managed to straighten out his old sweatshirt just as she turned her head to finally see him sitting there.

Then silence.

Cherrie looked at him, he looked at her. Roman held his breath.

Then she frowned at Quinn , looking unimpressed.

"I thought hockey players were supposed to be sexy." She complained .

Looking him over as she made her way to the couch, distracted from her bickering with her brother. She has a new target to annoy now.

Her brother sighed long and hard "be nice." He snapped at her as he started dragging her suitcases to her room, leaving them alone for a minute .

Offended and a little stung, Quinn eyed her up and down just as judgmentally . "I didn't know models looked like hookers these days either ."He threw back at her just as quick.

There was a shocked pause, having not expected him to dish it back out to her before she laughed, eyes lighting up as she got herself cozy on the tub chair. Eyes never leaving him. Taking in his flushed cheeks, scabbed nose from the last injury , hair a overgrown mess behind his ears , dressed in a huge black sweatshirt and basketball shorts.

He was not her usual type at all.

Yet something buzzed in her chest, a strange excitement building in her as she thought of all the ways she could get underneath his skin and make him react. Annoying guys was her favourite thing to do after all.

"Honey. You couldn't even afford this hooker." She replied smoothly , crossing her long, tanned legs over each other . Smirking to herself as she watched his eyes briefly flicker down to them before they quickly looked away.

Clearing his thirst, he muttered blandly "I'm glad i could save my money. I've been told I need to stop spending money on stupid things anyway."

Cherrie inhaled sharply at the jab, having a feeling that he had been fully filled in on all of her stupid activities as of lately. Her brother Had always been a snitch after all.

"That's ironic coming from a hockey player." She muttered as she got up to get something to eat , stomach rumbling after hours on a plane without any food. There was no way in hell she would eat anything on a plane or god forbid... airport food.

But as she opened the fridge and saw nothing but beers and leftover pizza, she realised with horror then that she was going to be living with guy. Stupid guys who didn't know a healthy salad or a fucking fruit if they saw one.

How was she supposed to survive? She had gone from five star luxury to... she glanced around the messy apartment with barely any decor . The biggest thing in there was the pool table and tv, not even a fucking clock on the wall!

She felt a little like crying then. Maybe because she was tired. Hungry and had spent the last weekend being scolded by her mother like she was a naughty child again. Her exploitation's gossip for everyone to hear.

So excuse her if she was feeling a little on edge, having at least expected her brother to have gone out shopping before she arrived . He knew that she was picky.

Was this...was this revenge for telling him that those stupid white pants he wore made him look like a Walmart version of a member of backstreet boys ?

"Where's the food?" She cut Quinn off befor he could dish a returned insult for her stupid hockey player comment. Making him frown over at her .

"There's pizza from last night left in there." He informed her like that was helpful.

Raising a brow as he heard her let out a little sound, between a squeak and a huff.

His lips twitched. "Not good enough for you princess?" He said.

She looked straight at him, face cold and replied bluntly "not it isn't. So unless you want me to make sure that you lose all your teeth , without a puck or a stick being Involved . I suggest you and my brother head to the nearest store and get some real fucking food in. Before I kill the both of you !" She hissed at him .

Then she picked up a throw pillow, launched it at his head before stomping away to her room. Pushing past her confused brother on the way, slamming the door behind her with a angry bang.

There was a tense silence in the room for a moment where both men just looked at where she had been stood, Roman slowly looking away from her slammed door , blinking at Quinn curiously.

"I think we should go get some grocoises." Was all Quinn muttered. Clearing his throat as he hauled his ass up from the couch, stuffed his wallet in his pocket and headed straight for the door.

Roman following behind him in confusion "we've got left over pizza-"

Quinn pulled a face , yanking the door open with a long exhale . Her furious, very hungry face imprinting in his mind as he hurried her brother along.

"Yeah. No man. I mean real food." He said.

Roman didn't look any less confused . But the look on Quinn's face made him not question it again.

Two hours later. The fridge , freezer and cupboards were full with real, fresh food.

Cherrie came back out again. Smile lighting up her pretty face as she pulled out some chicken and made herself a salad while the guys scoffed on a takeaway on the couch.

She didn't thank him verbally but she slapped the top of Quinn's head on the way back to her room , he took that for something instead.

Later that night, Cherrie dragged herself back out of her room with the blanket wrapped around her head, a scowl on her tired face as the voices got louder and louder.

Hearing her brother and Quinn laugh loudly, the sound of video games filling the room as she stomped in there to get them to stop.

Quinn was the first to notice her hovering by the couch like a grumpy gremlin, raising his brow at her as he played with the controller in his hand, her brother paying her no mind at all. She could hear another guys voice on the tv , playing along with them but she ignored it in favor of glaring at the both of them angrily.

"It's nearly one o'clock in in the morning." She snapped at them. Looking at Quinn like he was the devil.

He just snorted "glad you know how to tell the time." He muttered , smirking as he clicked away at the buttons. One eye on the tv and the other one subtly watching the way she stomped her food like a child, making it harder for him to hold back his grin at seeing how easy she was to rile up.

"Roman!" She complained . Getting his attention finally.

Her brother looked over at her with a Frown "what? Why aren't you asleep? You've had a long flight. I thought you'd be out already." He said obviously .

Cherrie looked at him like he was an a idiot . He was. But still. "Are you fucking serious? How can I sleep when it sounds like a fucking a bar in here? Turn that shit down!"

"Yeah. Grandma here wants an early night." Quinn muttered . Grinning. Sipping on his beer , content with pissing her off even more.

The look she shot him would have had any other guy Pissing his pants with fear . But Quinn just grinned up at her , enjoying it far too much.

"Would you prefer to be smothered by a pillow or drowned in the bath?" She simply responded to him while picking up a pillow from the couch as she approached him quickly .

He looked down at the pillow then back up at her in amusement . "Both sound a little too intimate princess. We've only known each other for a couple of hour-" his teasing got cut off by his own startled gasp as she suddenly launched herself at him.

Pillow pressed against his face as he let out a shocked laugh, grabbing ahold of her arms to stop her from actually killing him. While she huffed and puffed, slapping him with the pillow instead when she failed to smother him with it.

Ignoring her brother scolding her , she hit Quinn with the pillow again. "Asshole! Trust me , no one wants to be intimate like that with you! Fucking-ah!" She squealed as she was suddenly pulled off Quinn , Roman carrying her over to her room over his shoulder while she kicked and cursed him out.

Quinn just laughed as he pushed himself back up to his sitting position , pushing his hair out of his face as he caught back his breath. Grinning widely as he wiggled his fingers at her glare .

"Well. Everyone's been intimate with you . Have you met the landlords husband yet?" He called over the couch. Roman shaking his head at him scornfully.

"Not helping Quinn!"

He just laughed. Hard. Before hearing his brothers voice coming through the system, confused to why they had suddenly paused the game.

"Is that Romans sister?" Jack asked him curiously , amusement on his face as they listened to her cursing like a sailor at him.

He tried not to grin "yeah. She's crazy."

"Can I meet her?" His sly question had the grin dropping right off his face.

"Why?" He simply responded. Suspicious.

Jack shrugged slyly "she's hot. And sounds like fun. I bet Trevor would like her.."

Quinn cut him off before he could say anything else, his amusement quickly fading away just like that.

Instead he scoffed and snapped "she's not fun. Now shut up and let's play the game." Despite that, he turned down the volume anyway. She needed her sleep after all.

For the next few days, Cherrie and Quinn tried to stay out of each other's way. Well. More like Quinn stayed out of her way while Jack and Trevor took over and became her new best friends despite Quinn telling them to fuck off mulitple times.

Neither of them listened and he was more than peeved to see them greeted with a sweet smile and hang out invitations from her right off the bat.

While all Quinn got was multiple 'get fucked you fucking fuck.' And his favourite 'get out of my way before you become my new doormat.'

She was getting wildly creative with her insults, and each one she snapped made it harder for him to control his laughter. Not wanting her to know just how much their bickering amused him.

It was Friday night, and Quinn was holed up in his room listening to some music. Sick and tired of seeing his brother and Trevor laughing and having fun with Cherrie all day, the three off them having went to the beach and come home and spent hours playing video games and just hanging out.

Jack had tried to get him to join in but one look at Cherrie, sun kissed with wet hair and sunburn on her pretty face had him declining so quickly that even Cherrie looked at him funny.

But then it started getting dark and he was brought out his thoughts by Cherrie casually walking into his bedroom like it was her own. Kicking the door shut with her foot as she balanced several dresses over her arms.

Ignoring his shocked look, she held up a white silk dress to her body

"This looks good on me , no?" Looking at him Impatiently for an answer. Hair blow dried, still dressed in a small dressing gown after the quick shower she had taken. Not bothered at all.

Quinn swallowed. Eyes flickering down to her bare legs before looking down to his bedcovers . "Er-I don't know." He mumbled "I'm not the one for fashion advise. Try Jack." He bitterly added.

Cherrie just scoffed "I did. He's no help. He thinks I look hot in everything. I need honesty. Brutal. Okay?" She instructed him.

Quinn barely had a chance to breath before she suddenly dropped her silk dressing gown onto the floor. Giving him the sight of her stood there, in front of his bed , dressed in a matching pale pink lace set before she was pulling the dress over her head.

"Fucks sake Cherrie!" He hissed at her , wide eyed and flushed red.

Unable to look away from her as he watched her smooth the silk over her body, turning to look in his mirror. Twisting side to side, only to give him an even better view of her ass in the figure hugging dress.

She ignored his shock and simply frowned at her reflection. "Is this see through at the back?" She asked him. Turning her ass to him fully, not warnting to go out in a dress like that.

Quinn gulped, hesitated . Eyes flickering to her face to make sure that she was serious , then he trailed his gaze down to her ass and hummed a little .

Breathing a little shakily as he mumbled "yeah. I can -I can see the thong. And can see right through." He let her know. Not knowing where to look.

Cherrie decided that for him. He choked on his breath again as she huffed and whipped the dress over her head, grabbing another one this time as she talked casually to him while she put it on

"It's so annoying. I like this one but it has a slit..too high or no?" She smoothed the red velvet dress over her body, then put her leg up on the bed so he could see the slit that ran up her thigh to her hip bone when she moved.

Quinn felt a little faint .

Taking deep breaths , mouth running dry as he looked at her tanned leg , oiled up with moisturiser in front of him. He felt his heart beat in his head. That couldn't be good, could it?

"You look-" incredibly sexy. He didn't say "that's not the one." He didn’t want her wandering out anywhere in that dress. Selfish reasons, he knew. But he wouldn't ever admit it.

Cherrie nodded like she agreed "I was a little worried. I don't want my pussy out in the night ya know? It's an easy access desss but.." she trailed off with a shrug.

Forgetting just who she was talking to for a moment. Instead she treated him like one of her girlfriends whenever they got ready for nights out together.

“I think this might be the one." She said slyly as she pulled on a simple , little black dress. Tight and hugging with lace holding up her chest, making her tits seem even bigger than they were. It hugged her like second skin, the back low, so she unhooked her bra and pulled it off easily.

She then threw her bra at Quinn who caught it with a heavy blink, brain slugging as he looked down at the lace in his hands then back up at Cherrie again. Wondering dazedly if he was dreaming.

"Yeah.." was all he could mumble out. "I guess that ones okay." He said. Speechless.

Rolling her eyes, she laughed. Having already had a few too many glasses with Trevor when he had decided that they needed a night out .

"This will get me free booze all night baby!" She cheered at her reflection. Fixing her hair and letting out a pleased hum at what she saw.

“Are you coming?" She then asked Quinn , turning to look at him after she was done.

Sitting down on the end of his bed to put on her sparkling heels, she looked up at him Impatiently when he didn't answer.

He shut his gaping mouth and exhaled "where are you going?"

"The bar. With Trevor and my brother. We're gonna meet some more of their friends There. Jacks not going though , still hungover from yesterday." She told him in amusement. Having spent the night at the club with them last night too.

Quinn scoffed and shook his head "no way." A night in a stuffy bar watching his friends hit on her? And her flirt back? Sounded like a fucking nightmare.

Cherrie felt weirdly disappointed , but she tried not to let it show. Instead she let the disappointment turn to Annoyance , standing back up once her heels were on and scoffing down at him.

"Whatever , You're so boring!" She glared down at him, wondering why she even bothered inviting him at all. She didn't like him. What the hell was she doing?

Quinn scoffed too, sitting up to glare back at her. "Yeah well. We'll see how fun you are when you come back pregnant and regretting ever going!" He snapped back at her.

She huffed , picked up a random shirt from his floor and hauled it at his head.

“Fuck you! You asshole!" She shouted at him, yanking open the door, blood boiling . Regretting ever speaking to him willingly.

Jack paused in shock, plate in his hand with a sandwich halfway to his mouth , about to knock on Quinn's door to see if he wanted to play some video games. Only to blink in disbelief as the door swung open and Cherrie stormed out of his brothers room, face red and pissed off. Not even sparing him a glance.

"No! Fuck you!" Quinn yelled back. Then the slam of the front door rattled the apartment .

Leaving Jack to slowly enter his brothers doorway in shock, eyes blowing wide as he looked at Quinn's red cheeks and scowling face . A lace bra in his lap.

"Dude!" Jack couldn't believe it "what happened to being nice to ladies?" He had never heard Quinn speak like that to anyone, ever. Never mind a woman.

Quinn let out a strangled sound, cheeks on fire as he looked at where she had been stood, flustered.

"She is not a lady! She's a fucking siren or -she's a ! Fuck! - " he huffed, struggling for words. Barely able to look his brother in the eye as he shoved him out of his room. Wanting to be alone.

“-that's the kind of woman that if you look at her too long she snatches your fucking heart out and never gives it back!" He shouted , muttering curses before he then slammed the door in his face with a huff.

Leaving Jack to stare at the closed door for a minute in disbelief, then he snorted .

Then he grinned widely in amusement

"Oh no. He likes her." He realised. Chuckling to himself as he quickly ran to get his phone to tell their friends of the latest development.

By the time half past one in the morning rolled around and Cherrie was still not back yet, Quinn finally emerged from his room , trying to act

Nonchalant as he asked his brother about their whereabouts.

"Dunno." Jack just shrugged hiding his smirk behind his drink "she's out with Trevor . So she might not come back tonight at all." He couldn't help but add, just to rile him up. To see how he would react.

Quinn stood there with his hands on his hips, looking over at the front door as though she was going to suddenly burst through it.

Then he felt his heart sink deeper in his stomach as realised that his brother might just be right, the thought of her out there cuddling up with Trevor or worse, some Random asshole at the bar , made him restless on his feet for a reason he didn't want to admit.

"I can't sleep." He blurted out instead.

Hands In his joggers pockets as he tried to stop himself from fidgeting , eyes drifting over to the loveseat that she always curled on. Her blanket still there, he slowly walked over to the chair , unease growing.

What the hell was wrong with him? And why the hell did he even care about what she did?

He didn't.

He didnt. She could do whatever and whoever the fuck she wanted. He tried convincing himself but his hand snook out of his pocket and began fiddling with the edge of her blanket and he knew that he was fucked.

Jack peered over at him in amusement "obviously." He stated with a smirk, "tried shutting your eyes?"

I have. He wanted to snap back. But every time I do I see Cherrie in situations I would rather not see. Some horrifically including Trevor and now he felt sick.

Instead he muttered casually "I could go for a drink." Trying to act like it was no big deal.

Jack looked at him like he was insane "now? But you said you didn't want to go out tonight!" He exclaimed.

Wide eyes watching his older brother pick up his jacket and wallet , not bothered that he was dressed in sweatpants and a sweatshirt, hair a mess around his head.

He just grabbed a cap from the wall and placed it backwards on his head, shrugging at him casually.

"Well I've changed my mind. Let's go." He simply said.

Cherrie couldn't believe what she was seeing as she stood by the pool table watching the guys mess on, drunkenly placing bets on who would win.

She glanced over to the bar and had to do a double take as she saw the two brothers walking over to them , eyes going wide as she looked at Quinn , in full lazy sweats , giving her a small smirk.

She frowned "what the fuck?" Almost falling over as she gripped trevors arm, nudging him to look over at their new guests of the night.

He looked just as surprised, but welcomed them with a happy grin. "Dudes! Want a drink?!" Be passed them both a bottle of beer from the table .

Quinn slowly saddled up next to her , not even glancing at her as he watched the guys suck at playing pool. So close that their arms brushed.

Missing the looks that Trevor and Jack shot them as his brother muttered something to him in amusement, both friends shaking their heads at him in amusement .

Cherrie was still scowling at him , nudging his side a little too hard . Cocktail glass tight in her hand "what happened to not your scene?" She sarcastically said, yet there was no denying the pleased feeling rising beneath her skin at the sight of him.

He just shrugged, sipping on his beer before answering . "Couldn't sleep." He muttered the same excuse that he had to his Brother.

It didn't work on her either.

She just rolled her eyes at him playfully "no shit. You look like an asshole." She commented, smacking the backwards cap on top of his head. Liking the look on him. Not that she would tell him that.

He just chuckled , looking her over with a small smirk. "And you look like a drunk idiot. What perfume are you wearing? Vodka." He snarked back at her . Tugging at the ends of her long hair , grinning when she slapped his hand away with a glare.

Squinting her eyes up at him, she leaned into his side so he could hear her better over the loud music and chatter surrounding them. Both of them lost in their own world together . He leaned closer to her too, neither moving away.

"You wished you smelt and looked this good." She muttered while giggling , throwing the rest of her drink down in one go.

Then she passed him her Empty glass and said "buy me another one?"

He rose a brow at her in amusement "missing a word there princess." He replied. Nudging her along with him to the bar anyways.

Digging his free hand into his pocket for his wallet, hiding a smile as he felt her clutch onto the back of his sweatshirt to keep herself close as they pushed through the crowd.

"Now?" She guessed. Grinning up at him cheekily.

Quinn just rolled his eyes and ordered her drink "please." He muttered passing his card over, ordering one for him later as well.

She snorted "please what hockey boy?" Before he could bicker back with her , he stilled when she suddenly let out a loud gasp , head snapping over to makeshift dance floor.

"Oh my god!" She exclaimed happily as she started to loudly sing along to the song blaring around them

"Romeo save me I’ve been feeling so alone! I've been waiting for you but you never come- is this in my head I don't know what to think-" she tugged at his hands as she danced around him happily .

Only stopping short when his voice lowly joined in "-he knelt to the ground and pulled out a ring-" he sang quietly grinning at the look of shock on her pretty face as she gaped up at him .

Heart fluttering in her chest, she gripped onto his arms and beamed brightly "you’re a swiftie?" She breathed out in amazement .

He chuckled, nodding his head as he pulled her closer and twirled her around . Smiling a little as she giggled and fell against him "mmm. Of course. I'm not deaf." He muttered before looking at her beaming smile and scrunched up nose and sighed longingly

"not blind either." He added.

"It's a love story baby just sayyy.." she sang while holding out a pretend microphone to him as she lifted up her arm, making him twirl beneath it.

Both of them too busy laughing and dancing together to see the looks of shock and disbelief from their friends, Jack slowly lifting his phone up in shock to film them for evidence later. Unable to believe the sight in front of him. Gaping at the sight of Quinn twirling around with her while singing Taylor fucking swift.

"Yes." Quinn muttered finishing the lyric as he chuckled, almost crashing into the stool behind him as she suddenly twirled him again. "Okay! Okay!" He laughed nodding over to their drinks at the bar "come on ."

She followed him easily, still singing as she clutched his hand without even relaxing it.

"Can we make a Taylor swift playlist to play on the ride back?" She looked up at him hopefully , too drunk and happy to realise that she was staring. She tugged off his Cap and placed it backwards on her own head,  making Quinn hide a smile behind his glass.

"Obviously."

Three o'clock in the morning and they stumbled back into the apartment , shoving at each other like little kids as they playfully  argued about which type of shoes were better.

"Boots make every outfit have a little bit of ..spice ya know?" She argued , a dr Martin lover through and through.

Quinn scoffed at her amusedly "yeah in 2010. You gonna wear your wide brim hat and moustache tshirt as well?" He teased . Tugging on her hair again like a child with a crush .

She rolled her eyes at him with a grin, laughing loudly "no! You wear slides like everywhere! You can’t speak!" She countered back. Cheeks flushed from the alcohol and just having fun with him.

"Can too. No laces, no hassle. Just the way I like it." He said.

Letting her hold onto him as she pulled off her heels, grabbing onto her arm when she wobbled , giggling beneath her breath. "You should try it. Better than those weapons." He nodded at her poor ankles.

Straightening back up, she sighed dramatically "no. They make my legs look so good. I'll look like an idiot wearing a mini dress with slides ." She slurred as they stumbled down the hall to their rooms.

Quinn just shook his head with a small smile, hand hovering over her back in case she stumbled again, not wanting her to fall flat on her pretty face .

"No you won't. That's not possible." He muttered, yawning loudly . He ran his fingers through the ends of her hair again just because he could, in awe of how soft it felt between his fingertips .

Cherries eyes fluttering as she leant against her doorframe , yawning as well.

“Why not?" She struggled not to fall asleep right there and then. Enjoying his company so much, she kind of didn’t want him to leave her at all. Weird.

Quinn shrugged lazily , drunk and happy "cause it's you." He simply mumbled. Meaning it.

It wasn't possible for her to look bad, or stupid or like an idiot. She could wear a trash bag and she Would still look Beautiful .

She didn't say anything. Just bit down on her bottom lip . pushed away the giddy feeling in her chest and sighed dramatically .

Squeezing his bicep gently before finally letting go "night Quinn. Maybe you'll sleep and wake up as beautiful as me." She joked.

He chuckled, pushed her a little to get her through her door, unable to tear his eyes away from her toothy grin.

She was so fucking beautiful , it made it hard to breath.

"Get some sleep and maybe you'll wake up less of a bitch." He countered back , kicking his foot up to kick her gently in her ass.

Snickering a little when she shot him a playful glare over her shoulder , kicking him back in his ankle without missing a beat.

“Maybe you'll wake up and be Sidney Crosby." She shot back, both grinning despite their petty words.

Quinn shook his head in amusement , flicking her forehead with his fingers , before finally backing away towards his own bedroom before he did something as stupid as kiss her .

“Fuck you." He said instead.

She bit down on her bottom lip to hide her besotted grin "fuck you too."

They both went to sleep and dreamt of dancing together to Taylor swift underneath the stars , body as aligned as the planets above.

The next week passed by quick with Quinn sticking to cherries side, both of them insulting each and picking at each other like little kids. But despite their teasing, they never left each other's side for very long.

Quinn insisting that he come along to her shopping trips in case she picked something hideous , despite her being a model who dressed like one too.

Cherrie making up excuses to get him to come along with her to see movies, to the bar , to get her nails done and Quinn always sliding them his card before she could pay for herself . Resulting in them bickering until she finalllt gave in, insisting on buying him ice cream to make up for it.

Everybody knew what was going on, everybody but her brother Roman who got the surprise of his life as he watched his sister walk out of Quinn's bedroom with him casually, like it was no big deal.

Jack not even blinking an eye, simply lifting his hand to high five Cherrie as she passed him, eyes not leaving the tv. Used to the two of them constantly being attached to the hip now.

Quinn headed into the kitchen and picked out two water bottles, handing one to his sister without saying a word.

Running a hand through his hair, he mumbled "golfing?" To her quietly. Roman watching their interaction in disbelief . Wondering what the hell he had missed.

Cherrie hummed while typing on her phone, pulling herself up to sit on the counter beside him. Both doing their own thing but still in their own bubble together .

"I'm shit at it. I told you." She muttered back to him as she scoffed at a text her friend sent her, briefly lifting her phone in front of Quinn to show him the photo of her friends new boyfriend.

“That's the one I was telling you about." She said.

He glanced at the picture and muttered "looks like a finance bro." Smiling a little when she huffed out a laugh. Pride filming him that he could make her laugh like that.

"Looks like a dickhead you mean." She corrected, both of them snickering meanly between each other.

Then Quinn got back on to the golfing topic "I'll teach you. It's not serious. Just hitting some balls into some tight holes." He heard what he said a second too late. Immediately glancing over at her with narrowed eyes "don't even say it."

She laughed loudly , slapping his shoulder with a grin on her face. "It's too hard! I can't!"  She giggled.

Quinn groaned "don't. Don't make me say it."

She wiggled her brows "come on. You know you want to." She sang.

He sighed in defeat , fighting back ahinst a grin as he muttered "that's what she said." Ashamed of himself for giving in to her childishness , he shook his head amusedly .

Cherrie just ruffled his hair with her hand , oblivious to her gaping brother on the couch. Jack amusedly watching his reaction with a grin , used to it now.

He then picked up his jacket and picked up his car keys, heading over to the front door without even glancing back.

“There's a five star food bar there." He simply told her. Knowing it would do the trick.

Cherrie came running, shoving on her slides that Quinn had gotten her after all their bickering about his own . They had a matching pair now.

Quinn then grabbed his cap and placed it on her head, then wrapped her up in his jacket too.

"Tacos?"

"Tacos." He confirmed. Then they were gone.

Leaving her brother to Gape at the front door in disbelief. Mouth opening and closing Several times before he turned to look at Jack in shock

"She hates him?" He didn't sound so sure now. Confused to how his sister had went from cursing out Quinn to going golfing with him while wearing his jacket .

Jack smirked knowingly "does she?" He rose a brow at him waiting for him to catch up.

Roman blinked dumbly "she doesn't?"

Jack just laughed and laughed and laughed "think my brother lied to you man."

Roman thought back to the first day when he had told Quinn not to fall in love with her, how Quinn had scoffed and told him 'that was never going to happen.'

He groaned in disbelief . Jack laughed loudly . He really should have seen this coming.

Cherrie found herself sat at one of his games, wearing Quinn's jersey as she sat beside Jack, munching on popcorn as she watched the players come out . Eyes wide with excitement , having never seen a hockey game live before.

"So.." Jack looked at her with a grin as he eyed the jersey she was wearing with his brothers name on the back "hate him still?" He teased knowingly.

Cherrie just hummed with a serious resting bitch face "can't fucking stand him." She blandly replied.

Sticking up her middle finger at Quinn when he skated past where they were sitting, making him grin to himself in amusement before he focused back on his game.

His brother shook his head in amazement "is fuck you ..like your guys ‘okay’?" He wondered out loud. Having seen the both of them always swearing at each other with smiles on their faces. It was weird.

Cherrie just looked back at him in confusion "huh?"

He sighed loudly "it's a film- never mind. You two are weird." He stated in amusement, knowing he would never understand their dynamic . But his brother was happy, and that was all he cared about.

"do you like my brother Cherrie?” He decided to just go right ahead and ask her instead .

She looked at him, looked at Quinn then hid her grin behind her popcorn. "No. He sucks." She muttered.

Jack couldn't help himself "thought you were the sucker in your relationship." Earning himself a smack to his arm, he just giggled like a naughty child in return .

Rolling her eyes at him, she ignored the flush in her cheeks and replied quickly "their is no relationship. I don't like him. I don't care about him-." Obviously Lying through her teeth.

And Jack could only watch in absolute disbelief as Quinn got slammed against the boards by another player, watched the way Cherrie immediately jumped out of her seat in a rage.

"Fucking cunt!" She yelled loudly , scowling darkly as she watched him shove Quinn down again until he fell flat on his ass.

“Fucking get him Quinn! Break his legs!" She was a little too passionate.

Jack was tugging at the back of her jersey with a nervous laugh to get her to calm down as those surrounding them looking at them judgmentally.

Well. Looked at Cherrie banging on the glass telling his brother to pound the dickheads face in, getting creative with her ideas of revenge.

“ Cherrie! Shhh!" He giggled while Watching his brother shove the player back, snarling something at him.

He saw the other player respond and look their way, directly at Cherrie, knowing exactly who he was chirping about to get a rise of of his bier. He winced in sympathy for him .

The guy motioned towards Cherrie and smirked, muttering something to him. Then Quinn spat something back and threw off his gloves before slamming him to the floor, hitting him without any hesitation.

Cherrie yelled excitedly "woooh! That’s it baby!" Grinning widely as she watched the referee separate them.

Quinn still yelling shit at the other player. Then he looked towards them to see their reaction to his behaviour , saw Cherrie's proud smile and found his shoulders relaxing even as he skated towards the penalty box. Glad that she wasn’t pissed off or turned off by him fighting. Fighting back the twitch of his lips at how proud she looked as she gave him a thumbs up, eyes glittering.

As she finally retook her seat , there was a moment of amused silence between them as she fought back her breath from all her shouting .

Then finally "so. Don't care about him?" Jack repeated her words with a smug smirk on his face.

Cherrie just rolled her eyes with a easy Grin "shut up." Was all she could reply. 

Heart racing in her chest, unable to take her eyes off Quinn as she watched him pull off his helmet to wipe his face . Glaring angrily at the player still.

She then sighed in defeat.

Fucked. She was completely fucked.

Quinn rose a brow in surprise when he came out of the locker room to find Cherrie waiting for him , unable to stand still as she fidgeted with the sleeves of his jersey she was wearing.

Making him hide his grin behind his hand at the sight of her in his shirt , his number and name on her back. Feeling his heart race just at the sight of her there. Waiting for him.

God. It felt like a dream. Walking towards her and seeing her face light up for him.

She ran over to him as soon as she saw him coming , shaking her head with a loud exhale.

“That guy was a asshole!" She exclaimed . Shaking her head in amazement . Still filled with adrenaline from watching it all go down.

Quinn chuckled , grabbed her elbow and pulled her into his side as they passed some people to get down to a quieter corridor , leading towards the exit where his car was parked.

"Complete dick." He agreed easily before grinning as be recalled her yelling and her proud grin when he finally took him down. "You seemed to enjoy yourself." He said amused.

She tried to school her excitement but couldn't , instead she nudged him and grinned "I didn't know you had it in you."

Then she looked at him, really looked at him, wet hair from his quick shower , all rugged, roughened up and pretty.

Recalling the way he had slammed that guy to the ice, she blurted out before she could stop herself “that was really hot." Not regretting it either .

She wasn't the kind to back out. She was committed now, there was no turning back.

Quinn froze and tugged her to a stop , blinking down at her slowly as he wondered if he heard her right.

Inhaling deeply as he looked at her wide eyes and flushed cheeks , the way she couldn't take her eyes off him. Fingers squeezing his hip as she nudged him with a cheeky grin on her pretty face.

She meant it.

"Really?" He breathed out in shock "me?" He couldn't believe it. Even going as fair as pointing a finger at himself . Like there was anyone else around.

Cherrie just nodded her head, hooked her elbow through his and bit Down on her bottom lip till it hurt.

“Yeah. Kind of want to fuck you now." She told him bluntly , the only way she knew how.

She wasn't good at feelings. Wasn't the kind of girl to sit there and proclaim her love through poetic words and sweet gestures . That just wasn't who she was. That was Taylor swift’s job. Maybe she could sing a song to him later instead .

Quinn knew that. And He heard her loud and clear.

He went bright red, scratching at his burning neck sheepishly , his eyes darting to the ground, to Cherrie and then to the exit doors before darting back to her again.

He swallowed nervously "I mean- you can-" he stammered shyly "if you want to I mean- we could-"

She cut him off quickly "Yeah. I do want . You I mean." Eagerly tugging him along with her as her heart hammered away in her chest, belly hot and head spinning.

She wanted him so bad.

He nodded his head eagerly , letting out a overwhelmed laugh. "Yeah. Yeah. Cool. Okay-" he ran his free hand through his hair nervously

"home?" He muttered , breath catching in his throat when she looked over at him quietly for a moment

Then she shook her head with a soft smile and agreed quietly "home."

They barely managed to stumble to his car before Quinn was pushing her up against the door, body pressed tightly against her own as he leant his head down and kissed her.

Moaning against her mouth as he felt her slide her hand into his back pocket and squeeze his ass, roughly pulling his hips up against her own as she bit down on his bottom lip hotly.

"Shit. Fuck.." he breathed out , eyes dark as he panted breathlessly against her mouth. Pulling back to kiss down her neck, marking her , tongue soothing over the sting as he held her as close as could possibly be .

Dipping his head to kiss her again and again and again, he exhaled shakily "you know right?" He mumbled begween kisses.

Cupping the back of her neck and stroking her ear gently, heart feeling like it was too full too handle. Goosebumps breaking out on his skin when she pulled away just enough to smile up at him, lips now the same colour as her name that he muttered out in awe.

“Cherrie…”

She laughed breathlessly against his jaw, kissing up to his cheekbone as she ran her fingers through his hair, tugging at it until he was moaning aginst her mouth shamelessly .

"I do." She didn't give a shit anymore . Tough girl act gone out of the window.

All she felt was her heart racing beneath her skin , then the feeling of his hands slipping beneath her shirt and the trembling of his lips as he laid his heart out on her sleeve, for her to do whatever she wanted with it.

"You’re gonna be my Taylor coded boyfriend now Quinn. Alright?" She let him know.

Lips pressing all over his face , lipstick print covering his skin as she left a red stain on his heart. He didn't wipe it away, he planned to keep it there forever.

He laughed shyly against her, eyes fluttering with bliss as she kissed his eyelids , then kissed his nose, kissing downwards till she reached his lips again.

"Sounds cool." He mumbled , licking the roof of her mouth as they made out aginst his car like teenagers.he couldn't wait to get her home.

"Can I say it?" He whispered pleadingly , hand on her hip and the other in the back pocket of her shorts as he held her close to him.

Breathless , overwhelmed and utterly fucked in the best way. She smiled knowingly

"You can tell me everything." She said. Meaning it. She wasn’t afraid anymore.

He looked at her and knew, and he knew that she knew it too. It was there right from the start , when she had crashed onto his place , made it her own. When they had argued, had bickered, had pushed and shoved, and pulled at each other's hair and clothes . Had challenged and dared eachother to do it.

So he did "I love you." He admitted to her, honesty flowing as freely through him as his love for her did.

"I think I always will." He said. Kissing her again.

She laughed softly against his lips "I know." She hummed, eyes sparkling as she grinned up at him

“I love you too. Stupid thing for us to do huh?" She said.

He laughed breathlessly "so stupid. But- hockey player so.." he shrugged his shoulders jokingly as he pulled away from her.

Opened up the passenger seat door and kicked her ass with his foot, making her giggle as he nudged her into the seat. Laughing with her.

"What's your excuse?" He teased her as he ran around to his side of the car, slipping in and turning on the engine. He pulled up his phone and put in their playlist they had made in the bar.

She looked at him, looked at his shy smile and his rosy cheeks, his flustered laugh as he leant over to buckle her in.

She sighed happily "stupidity is contagious. Remember?" She simply replied.

He laughed as Taylor swift sounded from the speakers , both of their hands reaching out to turn it up as lover played loud and clear.

Cherrie shook her head with a playful wince "this is all Taylor's fault. I mean-it's like she plans it. You're my song. All those songs I've sang along to.." she groaned , head resting on his shoulder as she kissed him there. Wanting to be close.

“I was singing about you all along!"

Quinn picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles , then held it in his own. Sighing blissfully

"Actually. It's your brothers fault really." He muttered , chuckling in amusement at how the tables had turned. "He made me swear that I wouldn't fall in love with you." He told her.

Cherrie exhaled long and hard , sharing a amused glance with Quinn.

He tutted "I don't like being told what to do. So..it's all his fault."

She nodded her head along seriously "complete dick. All his fault."

He nodded too , grinning against her knuckles as he kissed her hand again just because he could now.

"Complete asshole."

"Fuck him."

"Fuck him."

She looked over at him slyly "fuck me?"

He smirked contently "for the rest of our lives."

It's been a long time coming but..

He wouldn't change a single thing. And they could put the blame on Taylor and her brother anyways.

[lihhelsing]

Ali's Masterpost

Welcome to my masterpost! Nice to see you ❤️

Where to find me?

twitter and ao3

My Tumblr prompts, microfics and ficlets are here.

On-Going Fics

you're under my skin (burning in my bloodstream)

steddie | rockstar au | explicit | 40k+ | 3/7

Read it Here Steve's not sure why he keeps betting on things with Robin when he knows he's going to lose. Except this time the bet ends up with him getting his nipple pierced and it seems like the guy who's about to run a needle through his skin is hotter than Steve expected and he's having trouble keeping it together. But after a charged first encounter, Steve has no way to get in touch with Eddie and thinks he lost his chance until he runs into him in the most unexpected of places and finds out Eddie is a lot more than Steve initially thought. OR; Eddie gives Steve a piercing and Steve is clueless about his true identity.

If I fall for you, I'll never recover

steddie | supernatural elements | explicit | 30k+ | 7/10

Read it Here Befriending Dustin Henderson and the party come with the added bonus of weekly family dinners at Steve Harrington's house, of all people. Eddie expects him to be a jerk but he is not. He's actually... Nice? It's a shock for him, too All of a sudden, it's like Steve is everywhere. It's like Eddie fits in with them in a way he never did before, and it feels nice, even if Steve is super territorial about the people he cares about. Eddie just didn't think he would ever be one of them. He also didn't think he would care so much about Steve. On some nights he even thinks this crush of his might be something else. Something that dangerously looks like love.

Completed fics under the cut

Steve Harrington's (not so) Secret Advent Calendar

steddie | christmas themed | explicit | 19k | One-Shot

Read It Here What do you mean friends don’t make friends super elaborated Advent Calendars just for the sake of it? Or; Eddie and Steve had been fooling around for a year when Steve decided it was time to make a move and make things official in the form of 24 presents right before Christmas.

To-Do: Eddie Munson

steddie | Modern AU | explicit | 14k | 4/4

Read it Here Steve started sending his to-do lists to famous rockstar Eddie Munson as sort of an inside joke. It wasn't like Eddie would ever look at the DMs from a no-one called Steve Harrington. Right? Or; Steve's been using Eddie Munson's DMs as his personal notes up until the day Eddie actually replies to him.

The World Ends With You

steddie | Apocalypse AU | Explicit | 70k | 13/13 | Steddie BigBang #019

Read it Here After the world ended and the undead creatures were everywhere, Steve Harrington survived by isolating himself. Completely alone in a house, he barely knows what to do when someone breaks in. Injured and alone, Eddie Munson slowly wins Steve’s trust as they navigate surviving together in the middle of the Apocalypse and their relationship grows into something Steve can’t quite understand. But just as he has his share of secrets, Eddie has some of his own and this might be enough to get in the way of whatever they were building together.

Just a Lost Boy (not ready to be found)

steddie | Stripper AU | Explicit | 90k | 12/12

Read it Here Steve desperately needed an out. He couldn't handle his own life anymore, he needed to leave everything he'd ever known behind. And yet, he couldn't. His husband wouldn't let him leave like that. Not when Steve felt like a prize to him, something to be owned. And Steve didn't have the money to leave him because he'd been dumb and trusting and in love. And then, there's Eddie. Who might be just another client but he makes Steve feels things and Steve doesn't want to fucking feel anything right now. He just wants to leave. OR; Stripper Steve meets Eddie at work and Eddie can be precisely what Steve needs. Can offer him the chance of leaving his own life behind, if Steve plays his cards right.