#i see this take and yeah he went over board but his intention was to aprehend him Miguel had ample moments to kill him but really just

[movedtodykedvonte]

Weird overlap I’m seeing with people who completely miss that Jess and Miguel are flawed characters who just believe they have good reasoning with evidence for their actions and the people who keep infantilizing the teens (especially Miles and Pavitr)

[ilydeku]

teacher izuku has a girlfriend??

Regardless of the joy and spur he expelled towards the students, Izuku knew how to maintain the steady hand of keeping the class under set composure. Nothing but the intent to teach and the will to learn, an equitable relationship between the two—and it was no question. Being the most loved and favored teacher had its perks, and grandiose respect was one of them.

But no matter how mature a student has grown, having fun will always reign somewhere along their focal point. Even if that fun means encouraging their teacher in his love life.

"...-because a good relationship between your teammates makes for optimal communication, conduct, and cooperation," explained Izuku, pointing from one spot on the board to another, well immersed in his lesson. "Now, considering quirk-"

"Speaking of relationships, are you in a relationship, sir?" A student, a frivolous girl, teasingly pipes in sudden interest. Plenty of students amongst the grade claimed a crush on Deku-sensei. Of course they did: he's sweet, very tentative and understanding to all his students individually, and takes his time to really help and engrave the knowledge he possessed for them to become the best future heroes they could be. That, and mostly his physical charms. So wouldn't it be in his best interest to have a girlfriend?

Little did Izuku know that this inquiry marked the beginning of his first uncontrollable havoc.

For a moment, he hesitated, pausing midway on the convoluted diagrams drawn on the whiteboard. A strange question, but he thought nothing much of it. He turned around and crossed his arms, lazily pointing the expo marker to the girl.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that. Unrelevant, didn't see a hand raised-"

"Aw, but sir!" She draws out, slumping back in her seat. "Are you?"

Some students began to look at each other and exchange a few grins until the room began to slowly increase in volume and erupt into unintelligible chatter.

"Ahem."

The room fell into silence accordingly, but he could clearly read the expression on everyone's faces. The class was still waiting for his answer, the way they stared and leaned over their desks in anticipation. Izuku sighs and turns back to the board.

"...no, I'm not in a relationship. Moving on, the information I've drawn-"

"Really?" The girl cuts in matter of factly with a tilt of her head. "But aren't you and y/n talking??"

A chorus of engrossed 'oohs' echoed across the room and a very subtle, but defined shade of pink dusted his cheeks at the mention of you. He turned around again and attempted to regain composure of the class.

"Everyone settle down-"

"Y/n L/n? Isn't that (hero name)?? I think she's in the top 20's now."

"Yeah! I've seen her drop by the school a couple times during lunch!"

"Now that I think about it, Deku-sensei does have her come in as a guest speaker a lot..."

It was just one after another, the addition of suspicions and theories now bringing the truth to the surface. Izuku swallowed.

A loose black band around Izuku's wrist caught another student's eye and they stood up and pointed in excitement. "Look!! Deku-sensei has hair ties on his wrist!! Hair ties!!"

"Kids, please...-"

"Wow..I've never seen your class this rowdy before, Izuku!!" That voice. His head snapped toward you in surprised, totally flustered about the situation. The entire class went dead silent and turned to you, standing at the entrance of the classroom. You wave at his kids with a smile and stroll over to Izuku's desk, dropping off a bag of some sort. He watches you endearingly.

"You forgot your lunch at home, silly."

"O-Oh did I? Haha, sorry y/n. Thank you. You're on break right now, right?"

The students watched you both like a show, taking in the interaction, the body language, the words. There's no doubt you two were a thing right? Deku-sensei and (hero name)!!

And just then, you confirmed it with simple kiss on his cheek.

"Bye, Izuku! Be nice to the kids, hm?"

"You know I always am!!"

As soon as the classroom door clicked, the class burst into awe.

"WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL US???"

[stark-ironman]

What about a smut of reader being pregnant and hugh is so turned on that he did that

All Mine

He looks so daddy in the pic 😮‍💨😭

18+ No Minors

A/N: I got carried away with this. I've read plenty of pregnancy fics over the past few months and this is the result.

Warnings: Pregnancy kink, mentions of lactation kink, smut, oral (f recieving)

"Cannon-ball!" Ryan yells as he jumps off the diving board into the pool and you hear Hugh laughing in the background, making you chuckle and roll your eyes while cutting up some fruit. The two men just finished a stressing press tour so Ryan decided to come by and swim before he had to go back to his house.

A kick from your stomach makes you jump a little so you place your hand on the side, smiling as the little baby inside of you reacts to your touch but wincing when you can feel the baby trying to move around.

Putting the fruit and the drinks on a tray, you carry it outside and set it down on the table, noticing Hugh staring at you intently from the pool. "Oh shit, food! Thanks Y/N!" Ryan exclaims excitedly while running over. "Are you coming to eat, hon?" You ask looking at your husband. "I'll eat later. I'm enjoying the pool at the moment." He says with a small smile but you know that's not why he's staying in the pool.

"I'm going to go lay down for a bit. You two don't do anything that will result in a hospital visit." You lightly scold with a chuckle. "No promises." Ryan sings as he jumps back into the pool.

With one last look at Hugh, you head inside and go straight to your bed, turning on your favorite TV show with the volume low.

-‐---

You wake up several hours later and notice the house seems quieter so you get up and head to the kitchen for a glass of water. "Sleep well, love?" Hugh asks from the stove. You look over at him to see he's just wearing a pair of shorts, making your eyes travel down lower. "Yeah, I really needed it though I wish you could've joined me. What are you cooking?" You ask holding your back, trying to take your mind off of his outfit. "Spaghetti. You mentioned earlier you wanted some so I went and picked up the stuff when I took Ryan home." He says turning the stove off and walking over to you, pressing his chest against your back.

"Come on, love. Let me help you relieve some pain." He mumbles, picking up your belly. A moan leaves your lips, leaning into Hugh while he holds your belly. The strain on your back is relieved instantly, causing you to take a deep breath. You two stand there for what feels like forever, looking at him with a smile as you tell him he can lower your belly. He slowly lowers it and starts to kiss up your neck. "Do you know how turned on it makes me to see you pregnant, love?" Hugh mumbles, pressing against you as another moan slips out of your lips.

"I had to stay in the pool earlier because I was so fucking hard watching you walk around with your beautiful belly," He turns you around and kisses you deeply, "The fact you're growing my baby in your belly makes me the proudest man on the planet and I plan to show that to you everyday."

Hugh guides you back, removing your clothing piece by piece until you're bare on the couch. "Lay back, love. I've been wanting to worship your body since this morning." He states crawling between your thighs, kissing up one side before placing a kiss on your clit.

A moan falls from your lips as Hugh slides a tongue up your slit, feeling him start to slide his tongue in and out. Your hand cards through his hair, pulling on it every so often causing his moans to vibrate from between your legs. His tongue worked in long, hungry strokes, and his lips closing down on your clit every so often. "You taste so good, love. So responsive for me.." He slides two fingers inside of you, kissing his way up over your belly, over your breasts before finally melting against your lips.

You taste yourself on his lips as he moves his fingers expertly inside you, letting his thumb rub your clit. "Hugh.. fuck." You moan, arching your back. "What do you need, love? Tell me." He commands softly. "Want to cum... on your dick." You whine, looking at him with every bit of want and desire in your eyes, taking in the scene in front of you as he smirks at you.

His hair, tousled and hanging over his forehead. Your slick glistening his mouth and chin, making you moan slightly at the sight and you feel his fingers pull out, watching as he stands up. He takes his shorts off slowly, letting you take in how aroused he is for you, looking at you with need.

"See how hard you make me, darling? Every bit of this is all for you." He states as he lifts your legs up, sliding in between them as teases your entrance. "You look so perfect.." He leans closer, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking softly before moving to the other one, sending shocks of arousal to your core. He groans as he slides inside of you, throwing his head back as he feels your walls stretch around him.

"You take me so well, darling," He leans down and kisses you softly, "You was made all for me, weren't you?" You nod, moaning as he bottoms out. Hugh sits up, placing his hands on your stomach as he thrusts inside of you.

"I'm going to stuff you so full of my babies, you'll always be pregnant for me." You both moan at his words, both knowing that it's all you two want. "Might even try to drink from these perfect tits of yours." You moan, clenching around him, hearing his breath hitch as he thinks about it.

He leans down, breathless and needy as he kisses you feverishly. You kiss him back with just as much passion, feeling yourself start to clench tighter around him, and you both cum at the same time.

His moans fill your ear as he empties inside of you and you grip him tightly, trying to catch your breath. Hugh pulls out and walks over to the kitchen, grabbing a towel and wetting it before coming back over and cleaning you up, doing the same to himself.

"I love you, Hugh." You breath out, grabbing his hand as he helps you sit up. "I love you, darling." He kisses you softly. "Now, is that spaghetti ready?" You ask, making him laugh loudly, pulling you close to him.

[tinydefector]

Hello Tiny, I heard about the question board and I’m not sure if my question disappeared. If this is not the case, feel free to ignore this message.

I noticed there aren't many stories about Blurr or, more specifically, about Blurr and humans. I was wondering if you'd be interested in writing a story with him. I think he’d be the type who loves compliments, and although he doesn’t show it on the outside, he’s really interested in humans.

HE IS SEXY💖😭💖

Strange meetings

Blurr x human reader

Word count:1.5k

Warnings: none

Ahhhh sorry this took so long, mind you still trying to figure out hoe I like to write blurr but couldn't pass on the Swerve fanboy moment.

I hope you enjoy it Woose and I'll do some more reading on him and hopefully get some comics on him so I can write him better in the future.

_______________

Blurr's optics are focused on the strange little organic stands off to the side of the bar. Humans... they were fascinating things, he didn't often get to see or interact with them and the fact that there was one on this ship was rather surprising. 

They are rather caught up talking to the bot that is bartending, a smile across their lips as they chat away eagerly with the minibot. The bartender has his face rested in his servo as he eagerly replies. 

Blurr glances over at the human with a flicker of curiosity in his optic, Humans were such a rarity on Cybertron - he had never had the chance to interact with them directly, he wasn't expecting to see them on the Lost Light. 

Swerve follows Blurr's gaze, grinning as he leans back down to his friend, in the midst of regaling the human with yet another wild tale from his "pre war" days when he caught Blurr's gaze drifting over from across the bar. The speedster's optics were fixed squarely on the human sitting with Swerve, his expression unreadable.

The minibots visor brightened with a smile. "Oooh, primus he's here, his optics are on you," he said before shoving his servo into his mouth to stop the sound the excited squeal he nearly let out, giving the human a nudge. Once he had calm down enough he speaks again.

 "You know Blurr is a very big celebrity on Cybertron." He leaned in closer, lowering his voice to a conspiratorial murmur. Swerve glanced back over at Blurr. "Maybe I should introduce you two? I'm sure he'd love to chat." He hums. 

It makes them chuckle softly. "A fan huh?" They tease Swerve.  Swerve let out a nervous laugh, his field practically vibrating. "A fan? Oh, you have no idea!" He leaned in even closer, his voice dropping.

"Blurr's actually been a hero of mine for centuries. I used to follow his races back in the day, you know. Went to all his matches, collected his autographs, the whole nine yards." He glanced back over at Blurr, who was still watching them intently from across the bar. 

"In fact, I even tried to get him to go into the bar business with me once, before the war. Figured we'd make an unstoppable team, me with my metallurgy skills, and him with his... well, everything." He chuckled and shook his head.

 "Of course, that never ended up happening. But let me tell you, the day he first spoke to me I swear, I thought my spark was gonna short out from excitement!"

Swerve turned back to the human, his field pulsing with excitement. "So yeah, you could definitely say I'm a bit of a fanbot when it comes to Blurr. Probably always will be, if I'm being honest." He shot another sly glance in the racer's direction. "Although, who knows - maybe I can finally get that bar partnership off the ground, hmm?”

They take notice of Blurr making his way over. "Hmm, he's pretty. Drinks says I can get more than an autograph. " they wager teasingly. Swerve's visor brightened comically as he watched Blurr start making his way over to their corner of the bar. "Wait, you mean to tell me you think you can - " he cut himself off, shaking his head rapidly.

 "No no no, you definitely don't want to go down that road, my friend. Blurr? He's, uh... he's kind of a big shot, you know?" 

Swerve leaned in closer. "I mean, sure, he's plenty good-looking. But trust me, you do not want to try and get that kind of attention from him." He gave the human a significant look. "Blurr's way out of our league, if you catch my drift."

As the racer drew nearer, Swerve's field flared with barely contained fanboy fervour. "Oh Primus, here he comes!" he hissed under his breath. "Just, just let me do the talking, okay?"

Straightening up, Swerve plastered on his most winning smile as Blurr approached their table. "Blurr! Fancy seeing you here in my humble establishment." He gestured grandly to the human beside him. "I, uh, I don't think you two have met. This is my friend  " he paused, shooting the human a mildly panicked look, not really knowing how to continue.

"Hello? Blurr right? It's nice to meet you " They call out with a smile towards the Blue speedster before turning their attention back to watching Swerve. 

Blurr nods, his optics briefly sweeping over the human's form. "Yes, my designation is Blurr.” it takes the mech a few moments of just looking them over in curiosity before he speaks again. 

 I haven't encountered one of your kind before. What is your designation? And how did you end up here, on the Lost Light?" He asked, sounding rather shy with his inquiry. 

Swerve chuckles. "Ah, the human doesn't have a Cybertronian Designation - they go by [ Name]. As for how they got here... well, that's a bit of a long story. Let's just say they've become quite the fixture around here."

It earns an eye roll from them towards Swerve, a small smile on their lips as they watch him try desperately to make small talk. 

Blurr hums thoughtfully, his processor rapidly cataloguing the new information. "Interesting. I'll have to make sure to remember that."

"Swerve your getting side tracked again" they laugh as they watch the smaller mech, still waiting for their next drink.

Blurr glances briefly at Swerve, who's already returned to mixing the human's drink, then redirects his attention back to them. "I must admit, I don't often have the opportunity to interact with your people."

Blurr tilts his head slightly, his optics studying the human with unabashed curiosity. They are very different from what he had expected when he had been told about humans. They are dressed in what looks like a uniform, it fits to their frame, they look much softer than he expected as well. 

" How did you come to be here? I thought humans only stayed on earth." He leans in just a bit, his field thrumming with a blend of fascination and cautious friendliness. This human was an unexpected discovery, and Blurr was eager to learn all he could about them.

"I'm a member of the Galactica union, there's a few of us humans around the ship. We work alongside the Lost Light helping set up communication points and shipping docks, the Ambassador is our lead officer" They explain but settle in.

 "Thanks Swervy" they hum happily before enjoying a sip of their drink. “Beautiful as always, going to put David out of his job” they tease which makes the minibot fluster as his engine chokes. 

Blurr's optics widen slightly at the human's explanation, his processor whirring as he processes the new information. "The Galactica union? Fascinating. And you work in tandem with the crew of the Lost Light?"

He's thoroughly intrigued by this human's presence, eager to glean as much insight as possible about their kind and their role on the Lost Light. Interacting with non-Cybertronians was a rare occurrence for Blurr, and he was determined to make the most of this opportunity.

They hum again for a moment before turning their full attention to Blurr.  "We are mainly here to keep things peaceful, kinda a peace keeper sort of ordeal. But also to be Able to find new resources for earth and forge new alliances" they explain. "What about you, your not one of the Lost lights locals I haven't seen you around before" they hum, deciding to play dumb with the knowledge Swerve had told them about the blue speedster. 

He leans in a bit closer. " I'm not a regular crew member of the Lost Light. I'm actually visiting when I heard the ship had returned and was hoping to catch Hotrod. He's a friend" 

“Oh well I don't know if you will catch him, he's been quite busy recently” they explain only for Swerve to speak up. “Don't you mean he's chasing after the Ambassador like a turbo fox in heat, like half the ship” he teases. 

It earns a shocked look from the blue mech, his intake hangs open. It earns a laugh from both Swerve and the human. “opsie, right new to the whole ordeal, half the ship seems rather invested in umm interspecies relations” they explain to him. 

Blurr offers the human a faint, but still shocked smile. "I.. I wasn't expecting that, your presence here has piqued my interest but not that way. I'd be most intrigued to learn more about your kind and your involvement with our affairs. Perhaps we could exchange information - I have much to share about Cybertron and the wider landscape and culture." He begins his speech beginning to sound much quicker and almosted ‘blurred’ together. 

He pauses, canting his head slightly. "That is, if you're willing to indulge my curiosity. I imagine the life of a Galactica representative must be quite eventful." 

"I'd be more than willing to if you can keep up with my questions" they tease, a small glint in their eyes. Blurr's field flares with amusement at the human's teasing challenge. "Keeping up, you say?" he replies, a playful lilt to his voice. "I'll have you know my processors are more than equipped to handle even the most rapid-fire inquiries."

_________________________

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[klausinamarink]

When Life Gives You Pickles, Make It Into Soup

rating: G | cw: none | wc: 920 | tags: established relationship, domestic bliss, soup | prompt: Love is silently passing them a pickle because you know it’s their favourite

written for @steddielovemonth

“So Gareth was supposed to stay on the drums, right?” Eddie waves his hands in the air where he sits on the counter. “That’s like his whole thing since he joined the band.”

“Okay.” Steve nods, glancing over at Eddie as he starts sliding the chopped carrots and potatoes into the pot from the cutting board. 

“But during practice, which was today, he says that he wants to play bass guitar. Which, in another day, I would be completely cool with and the other guys will be like, ‘Yeah, Gareth, follow your heart’s intent and pick another instrument that calls out to you.’”

“That’s what you would say.” Steve points out just because he knows that Eddie’s that kind of person who says such long-winded compliments. He fills the pot with cold water from the sink, just barely remembering to throw in a pound of the meat bones to complete the broth. 

“Okay, yeah, I said that.” Eddie rolls his eyes. Then he raises an index finger, pointing it up to the ceiling for no particular reason. “But I didn’t! I said none of that because Gareth said he wanted to change instruments today. The day before we will have our venue show!”

Steve drops his mouth open in a wide ‘O’ because he’s that invested in the secret drama of Eddie’s band. “He didn’t.”

“He did.” Eddie shakes his head mournfully. “You can imagine our reactions.”

Steve hums, opening the jar of pickles and plucking one out to pass it to Eddie. Eddie takes it and bites it without a second thought. There’s a couple pickles left in the jar since Steve had already blended the brine earlier so his boyfriend could finish them.

After a few chews and swallows, Eddie continues his tale of mutual devastation, still oblivious to Steve’s cooking. Good. Because this has been in Steve’s plans for weeks ever since he went to the farmer’s market and struck a lovely conversation with that Polish couple. He watches the boiling pot, making sure his attention is perfectly divided between the timer and Eddie’s story.

“-and then Jeff said, ‘How about I switch with the bass, Frankie does the second guitar, and you do the drums?’ I told him, ‘Don’t you remember my last time playing with the drums?’ Jeff just said, ‘Oh yeah, right.’ Then-”

Setting the stove’s temperature down to shimmer, Steve slowly pours in the blended pickle in the broth, mixing it together. He sees Eddie has finished his pickle so Steve passes him another. 

This time, Eddie ferociously tears a chunk off, green acid spitting out as he speaks with a full mouth, “Eventually, it was Gareth who finally stood himself up and said, ‘Yeah, you’re totally right, I shouldn’t switch out before tomorrow’s gig. But I’m still doing bass after that's done.’”

“So who’s doing the drums?” Steve crosses his arms, leaning his hip on the counter besides Eddie.

“That’s the thing!” Eddie throws his hands up. Unfortunately, so does the half-eaten pickle. It hits the ceiling with a tiny splat. The two men stare up at it, Steve with genuine surprise and Eddie with horror. Before Eddie can splutter out apologies, Steve wordlessly kisses him and gives him the last pickle from the jar. Eddie carefully eats the whole thing with a bright-red face and eyes pointed downwards. Cute.

Steve double checks the soup. The lid’s so steamed over that he wouldn’t be surprised if it’s been stained completely white. He takes that cue to take it off and shut the stove for it to cool. 

Eddie finally speaks, “Yeah, we have no idea who our drummer could be. Like, Gareth’s good but neither of us are. Frankie has good rhythm but he’s better with guitar. I can’t drum for shit. Same with Jeff.”

“Bet that’s a problem for Future Eddie and his friends.” Steve quips, slowly mixing the soup around. 

Eddie barks out a laugh. He hops off the counter and stands behind Steve, peeking over at the pot. “This smells delicious by the way. What soup is it?”

Steve makes a shushing gesture to which Eddie responds by biting his shoulder. Steve rolls his eyes and contemplates if he should put in the half and half cream now. The Polish woman at the market had said it was better to wait for the soup to cool enough before adding the cream and parsley. He shrugs and just dumps it anyway. 

He retrieves the bowls and scoops a good amount of the soup. “Careful, it’s still hot.” Steve warns as he passes it to Eddie’s eager hands. “And eat at the table this time.”

Eddie sticks a tongue out at him but does so. Steve watches with bated breath as Eddie carefully blows on his spoon before closing his mouth around it. He sees the exact second when Eddie’s eyes widen and his body going stock still. For a terrifying moment, Steve worries that he had messed up the recipe and Eddie was going to spit it out in disgust.

But within a blink of an eye, Eddie’s standing in front of him. Hands clenching tightly on his shoulders while his eyes start watering. 

“Sweetheat,” Eddie says oh-so softly, “did you make soup from pickles… for me?”

Steve smiles at him sweetly and gently squeezes Eddie’s wrists. “Pickles are your favourite after all.”

Naturally, Eddie cries his eyes out with blabbering declarations of his unending love for Steve. Steve is more than happy to hold his boyfriends and return those favors.

[cybiirz]

ೃ⁀➷ INFIRMARY

Wriothesley x Gn!Reader

Sypnosis : After the entire incident involving the Fortress, Neuvillette, Chlorinde, Wriothesley etc, it seems you had lost track of time of which to spend with someone. Turns out, he missed you just as much. But maybe next time, find a more private area for such matters?

WC : 784

Warnings : Slightly suggestive at the end I think?

“Sigewinne, would you mind taking a trip to retrieve a package? It’s a box of bandaids since we’re low on supply so I’ve ordered some from the Court along with some more equipment. Bertin’s house should have the supplies,” You informed the young nurse as she listened intently.

After a nod and getting the list of the exact things needed, Sigewinne bid goodbye to you, leaving the infirmary in your care. Once she had left, you let out a deep sigh and stood up from the stool, heading over to a pin board hidden away in the corner of the room. You brought out your notebook and scribbled down a theory before pinning next to your other theories you had come up with.

Right now, you were lost in your thoughts as you went over the notes, eyebrows furrowed. But you were quickly brought back to reality once you felt a pair of bulky arms wrap around your waist, bringing you backwards which caused you to yelp slightly.

“Wriothesley, a warning would be nice before you decide to attempt to kidnap me,” You said to the warden, sarcasm dripping from your voice. You could already have tell it was him with the way he held you. He let out a laugh but continued to hold you.

“I just wanted to surprise my favourite nurse. Can a man not go around showing his love for his own little caretaker,” Wriothesley responded, breath close to your ear. You lifted up your arm and pushed his head away before you released yourself from him.

“You’re a strange man, I must say. And anyway, I highly doubt you should go around hugging random people and labelling them as your favourite. You may kill some with that sentence alone,” You informed him, hinting at his charm that many others knew about. Well, it’s between his charm or people wanting more coupons but either way works.

“Yeah yeah. I saw Sigewinne heading off, presumably to get some supplies. So that just leaves me and you which is rare in itself,” The warden was implying that the two of you had barely gotten some alone time ever since the whole primordial sea water incident.

But you chose to just hum in agreement as you tidied up the desktop sitting against the wall. You heard him approaching you before you felt him rest his chin on top of your head.

“I miss you (name). You haven’t even visited for almost 2 weeks now,” He complained next to your ear, his voice almost sounding whiny. The thing is, the pair of you weren’t necessarily exclusive. This visitation thing was solely known by only you and him. You sighed before responding.

“I know, it’s just that there are so many patients that injured themselves escaping from the whole primordial see water situation so there’s a lot to take care of. I wish we could see each other again, truly, but there’s so much for me to take care of that I've sort of fallen off track,” Your voice was becoming slightly hoarse as you rubbed your temple, the stress beginning to get to you a bit.

Wriothesley lifted his hands and began massaging your shoulders. “It’s alright I understand (name). Honestly, I’ve been busy too, I’ve just missed seeing you frequently. That’s all,” He said in a low tone.

“I get it,” You replied. You then removed his hands off of you before turning around resting on the table top and looking up at him. “Tell you what, we both free up our schedules and have a day dedicated to just us. Sounds fair?” The question tumbled out as you raised your eyebrow.

He gave you a soft smile before gently placing his lips onto yours. The two of you stayed connected that way for a few seconds before he parted for air, his breath still grazing against your lips. “Sounds good to me.”

“Before you go,” You began to add before bringing him closer again and reconnecting with each other. His hands grazed your waist as yours reached up to wrap around his neck, the passion evident between the two of you.

“(Name), I forgot my notebook and I need to take down some—oh…” The high pitched voice rang through your ears as you quickly turned your head to see Sigewinne standing there, still. Her head was cocked slightly as she brought a finger to her chin. “I always suspected it…” She mumbled.

Your face instantly turned red as you buried your face in Wriothesley’s neck to hide the obvious embarrassment. The warden simply chuckled as he stroked your back and held your head before mouthing an apology to Sigewinne on your behalf.

Maybe next time the infirmary should be a place to not show your not-so-secretive love for one another.

A/N : Loving these mini drabbles tbh. Writing them is so easy and not as time consuming, I think i’ll be writing a ton of them when I go visit my family tomorrow since the trip there is long. Feel free to leave any characters + their situations in my ask box!

[redrose10]

Alright here is Chapter 5! Originally it was supposed to be a much shorter chapter but I didn’t like the way it flowed so I changed it up. There are still a few more chapters to go!

Yoongi X Female Reader. CEO/Arranged Marriage AU

Summary: You were selected to marry the wayward CEO/Billionaire/Heir, Min Yoongi. You went into it with an open mind and heart determined to try and make it work. Yoongi on the other hand had no intention of ever letting you in let alone allowing himself to fall in love with you. Slowly you start to associate the smell of cinnamon and vanilla with the feelings of hurt and sorrow.

Word count: 3,016

Warnings: (May get updated as chapters progress): Arranged marriage, cheating/infidelity, hints of smut (Probably won’t get very explicit but we’ll see how it goes), Sexual Assault, Brief mentions of death, Reader grew up an orphan, General Angst, Swearing

Yoongi had started making an effort. It was small but you did notice little things like the tea kettle already filled when you got up in the morning and he’d text you to ask how your day was going. He didn’t seem to be bringing home women any more either but you knew he had other ways of accomplishing that so you were still skeptical.

Yoongi walked through the door after a particularly hard day. His company was denied the patent that they desperately needed to move forward on a new project costing them millions of dollars and precious time. He of course got chewed out over it by the entire board and it soured his mood for the rest of the day. He just wanted to get home, take a shower, have a glass of whiskey, and get in bed.

When he entered his home he heard loud music blaring through the speakers. He recognized the song as some girl group but he’d never cared enough to actually pay attention. It was catchy though. But what really caught his eye was you dancing around the kitchen in a white T-shirt that was just long enough to barely cover your backside. Your hair up in a messy bun. Your hips swayed to the music as you stirred something in a pot before returning to the cutting board. He watched you for a few seconds admiring your beauty. How you sang along to the song somewhat off key but still managed to sound beautiful. He did deserve the scolding he got earlier because he truly was an idiot. An idiot that had someone like you right there practically handed to him and he tried his best to ruin it all.

Slowly he walked over and cleared his throat, “It smells really good in here. What did you make?”

You were startled nearly jumping a foot in the air as you didn’t expect him to be home so early, “Oh Namjoon’s mom gave me a recipe for Jajangmyeon so I wanted to try it out.” Yoongi knew you hadn’t spoken to his mother since the wedding but here you were exchanging recipes with another man’s mom. That stung. “Would you like some?”, you asked almost certain he’d turn you down like every other time but to your shock he nodded, “Yeah sure. Sounds good.”

Placing the bowl in front of him he immediately took a huge bite.

“This is amazing Y/N. Best I’ve ever had.”

“Thank you.”, you replied before digging into your own bowl. The two of you made light conversation over dinner. It felt domestic and while this was what you’d always wanted it created a fear in you that eventually this would all come crashing down and be worse than before.

He ate the bowl in no time and even asked for seconds. Once you were both finished he offered to clean up and wash the dishes. You stared at him in disbelief causing him to stop what he was doing and look up at you. “What?”, he asked like what he was doing was completely normal.

“Are you feeling okay?”

He nodded, “Yeah I’m fine. Why?”

“Well I’m just waiting for you to tell me you got someone pregnant or like you’re dying or something.”

Yoongi chuckled and for the first time you saw his gummy smile. “I just thought I’d help you out since you made that delicious meal.” You gave a small smile, “Oh okay. Well thank you.” Quickly you made your way back to your room to hideout until he went to bed. You fully expected to wake up and realize this was all a dream.

After that night things between you and Yoongi stayed pretty weird. Technically they were pretty normal for a married couple but for the two of you it was strange.

He started eating dinner with you at least once a week sometimes more. Some mornings you’d wake up to him making breakfast. The two of you never spoke much but ate in comfortable silence. One day he even insisted that he accompany you and Namjoon to the opening of a new art museum claiming that he didn’t want rumours to circulate about the two of you but the way he placed his arm around you any time Namjoon got a little too close for his liking told you differently.

Things peaked at weirdness on a chill October night. It was the annual Min Gala and the first big event that you and Yoongi would be attending together. There had been other smaller gatherings here and there but nothing of this level. The Min Gala was known globally for its luxury and grandeur while pulling in celebrities and royalty from around the world, and you were now going. Which is why you were currently staring at yourself in the full length mirror you had purchased for your room. The outfit, something Jimin had picked, a velvet navy blue floor length dress with a deep v cut in the front and a slit on the right side that almost went up to your hip. Even you had to admit that you looked incredible. While admiring yourself you heard Yoongi lightly knocked at the door, “Y/N we seriously have to get going. We’re gonna be late.” Not wanting to make him angry you grabbed your clutch and swung open the door not expecting him to still be standing there.

He looked you up and down with wide eyes. “Y-You look very nice.”, he stuttered. You gave a shy smile back, “You look very nice yourself.” He then lead the way for you two out to the waiting car.

When the driver pulled up to the event you went into panic mode. There must’ve been 100 photographers along with hundreds of other various personnel. You were very out of your element. Yoongi could sense your uneasiness. “I know it’s a lot Y/N but keep your head up and just look ahead. I’ll be there with you through the whole thing.” You nodded as the car door opened. Yoongi stepped out first then turned and gave you his hand to help you out also. He placed a hand on your lower back and started quickly but gently ushering you through the crowd. You did your best to politely ignore the various questions being thrown at you while also trying your best not to trip due to the blinding lights. Once inside you felt a rush of relief. One of the staff members came over and grabbed your coats while a waiter brought you a glass of champagne which you happily downed.

You fully expected Yoongi to run off to the first woman that looked his way and leave you to fend for yourself but surprisingly be stayed by your side until an older gentleman came over asking to speak with him for a bit. Yoongi excused himself and told you he’d be back shortly as business needed to be handled.

You weren’t alone long though before Jimin slid over wrapping you in a big hug and catching you up on all the gossip you missed. He was in the middle of telling you a story about his trip when another presence walked up next to you. The man looked vaguely familiar but you couldn’t quite place it. Luckily Jimin stepped right in to introduce you, “Oh Y/N please meet one of my really good friends. This is Taehyung.” The man gave you a big boxy smile before reaching out to shake your hand, “Hi Y/N, It’s very nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too.”, you smiled. Taehyung was one of the most handsome men you’d ever seen. He had soft black hair that had some natural curls which fell perfectly. Smooth skin and beautiful eyes. He was dressed impeccably. His outift a dark purple three piece suit. It reminded you a lot of the dark green suit Yoongi had on the day you met him and that’s when it hit you. You were talking to the famous fashion designer and owner of KTVY, a very prominent fashion line that had quickly entered the same ranks as well known brands like Dior or Versace.

You spoke with Jimin and Taehyung for a while listening to their various escapades. Taehyung playfully pouted when he realized you weren’t wearing one of his designs and Jimin being the one that picked it out made him pout even deeper. Taehyung started grabbing at your dress talking about the low quality and how he would’ve made a nicer dress for you. It was clear he was a very hands on person but you felt comfortable with him. “Looks like someone’s jealous.”, Jimin leaned over whispering into your ear. Glancing over your shoulder you spotted Yoongi staring back at you while ignoring the man next to him expressively talking with his hands. Instead of his trademark unreadable expression he actually looked angry and it made you feel a certain kind of way.

When he was finally able to break free from the conversation with his business partner Yoongi walked over and pulled you into him before placing a kiss on your cheek, “Come on Y/N. Let go find my parents.” As you were being drug away you quickly waved goodbye to Jimin and Taehyung missing the way they both rolled their eyes and giggled to each other like teenage girls. After your meeting with Jimin and Taehyung, Yoongi’s mood for the rest of the evening seemed to change. He refused to leave your side. Every ten minutes he’d tell you how beautiful you looked, the most beautiful woman in the world. He also decided to start trying to mask his anger by downing Jack and Cokes like they were water.

Eventually you were able to cut him off and convince him that it was time to go home so there you were waiting for the driver to pull up while you did your best to hold up the swaying Yoongi. Luckily you were able to sneak out the back so no one other than a few kitchen staff saw you. Once in the car you started digging around looking for a bucket or bag or anything incase Yoongi’s body decided to rid itself of the alcohol on the way home. Just as you reached to look in one of the cabinets you felt hands grabbing your waist pulling on you and you fell back onto the seat next to Yoongi.

He started nuzzling his face into your neck mumbling something you couldn’t quite understand. “Here you need to sit up.”, you said while doing your best to push him over. He looked at you with glassy eyes and flushed cheeks.

“You are not going to feel good tomorrow morning. This is gonna be the hangover of all hangovers.”

He scoffed, “Yeah well I can’t feel any worse than I did earlier.”

“What do you mean?”, you asked while searching the car for a bottle of water you knew he needed.

“The way Taehyung looked you up and down and the way he had his hands all over you. I’m gonna kill Jimin. I told him not to introduce the two of you.”

You snorted at his remark. Yoongi looked over at you, “I’m serious. And after I kill him he’s fired too.” You just laughed it off. You were like 99% sure Yoongi wouldn’t do either but you made a mental note to text Jimin later and give him a warning.

Once you were standing outside your penthouse door you were fumbling with the code while trying to keep Yoongi standing upright and you were really regretting not taking the help from the driver when he offered. Even though Yoongi had a small frame he was surprisingly heavy and the fact that he had zero control right now was not helping. After finally getting Yoongi in the door you started walking him towards the kitchen to get some water and some food in his system when suddenly he grabbed your wrist and pulled you towards him. Within seconds he had you pushed up against the wall with his arms on either side caging you in while using the wall to brace himself. Slowly he placed kisses starting behind your ear and trailing down towards your cleavage.

“Fuck that Kim Taehyung. I’m never buying shit from him again.”

You chuckled at his whiny statement before Yoongi grabbed your hips pulling you flush against him as he continued to pepper kisses all over any visible skin he could reach.

He moved his left hand to your lower back while his right hand slowly started moving down your hip to the slit in your dress that he gently started to toy with. “Y/N, I don’t know how you did this to me. I wanted to hate you so bad. I wanted to hate our situation. I tried so hard to prevent you from breaking down my walls but I can’t stop thinking about you. I want to love you and I’m scared because I think I’m starting to.”, he mumbled between kisses. He began to tease the lace of the black underwear that you had on and that’s when you broke out of your haze and stopped him.

He was drunk and you were sober and even though he initiated all of this it felt like taking advantage of him and there was also a part of you that was worried once he sobered up he’d regret everything and his words would mean northing.

“Come on Drunky. Let’s get you to bed.”, you said pulling him down the hall. He looked around the room confused, “Who the hell is Drunky?”, which earned a big eye roll on your part. You help him get undressed and put him in the bed. You tried to leave to go get some water and some pain killers but he grabbed your hand and pulled you onto the bed next to him, “Please stay with me. Every time you walk away from me I worry it’ll be the last time I ever see you.” Again you remembered that this was just the liquor talking and in the morning he’d probably be upset that you were even in his room. You nodded and laid in the bed so he rested his head on your chest as you began to run your fingers through his hair hoping it would soothe him to sleep faster.

Thankfully it worked like a charm because he was asleep within minutes and you quickly got the supplies you were looking for before setting them down next to his bed for easy access when he woke up the next morning.

You pulled the blanket up over his shoulders and did a double check once again to make sure that he had everything he would need before heading over to the door.

You stopped when you noticed a bottle sitting on his dresser. It was beautiful and very ornate. A matte red glass bottle with a gold topper. In big intricate letters it read ‘Solace, A Comforting Fragrance by KTVY’. You chuckled at the irony that this was his choice of cologne. Gently you popped open the top and the familiar scent of cinnamon and vanilla hit you and a wave of memories of the last year came flooding back. Taking a look over at the man who was now softly snoring you felt anxious and uncertain about the future. You knew how to handle cold cheating asshole Yoongi. That was easy. But this new Yoongi, the one who’s been trying to improve and who claims he’s falling in love, you don’t know how to move forward without getting hurt more than you already have been.

Placing the bottle back in its spot you walked out gently closing the door behind you.

The next morning Yoongi woke up with a massive headache. After downing the glass of water and pain killers he took a quick shower and walked out into the kitchen. You greeted him with a smile and placed a large plate of food down in front of him, “Here this is called Y/N’s happy hangover special. You need the grease and carbs. There’s also hot coffee ready for you but you need to finish a glass of water first.”

He smiled and began to dig into the food letting you know how good it was. He watched you walk over and water the blue hydrangea plant that he had delivered a few weeks ago. He thought back to that morning. He wasn’t sure what was more beautiful, the flowers themselves or the way your face lit up when you saw them.

Then like a bad flashback the events of the night before came back to him. How he was filled with jealousy watching Taehyung touch you. How he used alcohol to try and extinguish the flames that burned inside of him. The way he kissed you and grabbed at you like a horny teenager. How he told you he was falling in love with you. It was all true.

You hadn’t mentioned any of it yet though which concerned him. He thought maybe he’d upset you or took it too far too fast. He was worried that you didn’t take his words seriously and assumed they were only spoken thanks to his drunk state of mind.

He wanted to tell you all of that same stuff now, while sober, and maybe have a deeper more thorough discussion. He cleared his throat, “Umm Y/N, about last ni-.”

*Ding*

Checking your phone you saw a text from Jimin letting you know he was outside.

“Hey Yoongi I have to get going. I’m hanging out with Jimin today. Don’t wait up.”

“Oh okay.”

Grabbing your purse you ran out the door without looking back.

He bit his lip staring at the space you were no longer occupying. “I deserve that.”, he whispered before pouring himself a cup of coffee.

[whumblr]

Hey!!! I know I just sent an ask the other day but I didn't what to forget to ask this

Can I have a drabble where jay has a panic attack because he hears some sort of sound that zayne makes (example the click of zayne's knife).

love your writing so much!!

Have a wonderful day and get good sleep❤️

Fidgety

Home is where the hurt is: Part 1

-

Jay didn’t mind afternoon team meetings as much, really. It was a bit of a break in the day for him, half an hour to shut his mind off, sit back, and just listen. Maybe pipe up every now and then, or zone out and mull over the words for his upcoming articles, but mainly, just, listen.

Today however, he was distracted. Or rather, kept getting distracted.

Unfortunately, Peter had a habit of clicking his pen when he was paying attention. He had one of those blue pens with a button on the side that clicked the plunger back. And he was very much paying attention now.

Normally, it wouldn’t really bother Jay and he could shut it out. But, well, first, his nerves were shot, and very close in second, the click sounded like that of Zayne’s knife. A little shk with every click and he could practically see the blade flick out in his mind’s eye. He managed to reduce his flinches with every click, blinked his eyes, twitched his fingers, skipped a heartbeat, but on the inside, everything went haywire.

He forced himself to take deep breaths, keep in control, to stop the hyperventilation from kicking in. Forced himself to focus on who was speaking, on the actual words spoken – that didn’t mean they actually hit the mark; he listened intently but the panic rising scattered the words from their sentences like leaves in the wind.

Calm down. He was safe. He was here in the office. He was—

Shk

He was down on the floor, face pressed against the wood, a heavy weight on the small of his back pinning him down.

Shk

Something cold tickled over his back. Something sharp. Pressure slowly increased and the cold tipped into his skin, breaking it, a wet hot sensation bubbling up, fighting against the cold intruding as if trying to expel it. Then it repeated itself. And again. Hot lines carved into his skin with a cold instrument, by a cold tormentor. The weight draped over his shoulders. A chuckle in his ear. The call of his name, an added fake compliment how he was doing so well—

“Jay.” Dennis’ sharp voice broke through his haze and shocked him back into the meeting room. “Could you write the suggestions down for me?”

Dennis, leading the meeting, stood in front of the whiteboard and held out one of the markers. He had a concerned look in his eyes and beckoned him over.

Jay pulled himself from his own swamp of anxiety and gratefully stood. “Yeah. Sure.” He accepted the marker and Dennis held it a split second longer than necessary. His focus was still on his discussion with Terry, but his eyes briefly snapped to Jay searching his for some form of assurance before he let go and stepped forward, resuming his talk.

Jay fully turned towards the board to hide his face. He squeezed his eyes closed for a second, let out a long exhale, and uncapped the marker, facing the group again.

Shk

Something pressed against his stomach, something cold, sharp. A sharp gasp and he made a tiny jump backwards. But he quickly calmed down again when he realised it was only the magnetic tray for the eraser stuck to the whiteboard.

As one of the other team members was speaking, Dennis slowly walked over to Peter, tapped on the table to get his attention and gestured his fingers down. Peter got the message and put his pen away. A little something about Dennis Jay greatly admired. He himself would never do that, scared of being accused of making a fuss about nothing, inviting confrontation. But Dennis not only did it, he did it without even saying a word, without making the other feel bad.

And best of all: he did it for Jay.

-

@just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @burtlederp @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @hurtmebeautifully @rougenoirofthepurpleterror

@susiequaz12 @whump-me-all-night-long @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @im-just-here-for-the-whump @restrainthenmaime

@freefallingup13 @whatwasmyprevioususername @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @firewheeesky @redstainedsocks

@whumpawink @break-so-beautifully @approach-me-and-ill-cry @painsandconfusion

@afabulousmrtake @wormwriting @soopytime @whumpedydump @pickleking8

@withdrawingramen @lolrpop @nugget4427 @light-me-on-pyre @treasureguardingdragon

[lonelywitchv2]

Through the window

James and his friends find themselves receiving a nasty surprise the night his best friend gets home.

major AU where Regulus isn’t muggle-phobic/a blood supremacist, Regulus isn’t a death-eater (just stuck at home because he doesn’t know how to leave), Regulus is going to magically be the same age as the marauders and the reader (18), takes place after 7th year (all of the characters are 18+), the wizarding war isn’t mentioned in the story, and the marauders don’t automatically join the OOTP as soon as they graduate (explanation for why they’re just chilling at home after graduation). Also, James’ feelings could definitely be interpreted as him being jealous and liking the reader, although that wasn’t necessarily my intent so feel free to imagine them as super close best friends and James just letting his inner teenage boy get the better of him.

cw: unintentional (on regulus and the reader's part) forbidden romance, small mentions of abuse (Black family household), an allusion to smut with some not-entirely-explicit-leading-up details, kind of lied on the last one (brief mentions of some smut lol), me accidentally forgetting about Peter so he’s just at home/on vacation or whatever, the other 3 marauders being little creepers and lowkey pervs to the reader, making out, underage drinking, neglectful parents, she/her pronouns

internally crying a little bc there are so many aspects to the AU and cw

yeah so this is pretty dumb but i kinda just thought of the idea and rolled with it...

to my anon: i saw that you enjoyed the forbidden romance trope so here's another. albeit, this work is lighter on the trope and not necessarily romance (if u didn't catch that based on the description) but i might do a part 2 where it evolves into a romance. ig we'll see!! <3

join my taglist!

minors DNI!!!

James had known you his whole life. You were next-door neighbors and, although you and your family were muggles, you had grown up as childhood best friends. As far as you were concerned, James went to some fancy private school in Scotland while your parents, who were rather rich, sent you off to boarding school in France. James wasn’t the biggest fan of your parents if he was being honest. They never really cared about what you did, only sending you off to an entirely different country and forgetting you existed until you arrived home for the holidays. Even then, you would mostly end up spending the majority of your free days at the Potter house.

The moment you arrived home from France for your summer vacation, you sprinted out of your parents’ car (not that they cared) and ran to the home of the Potter family. Before you could even knock, James sprung open the door and engulfed you in a hug.

“I missed you,” James muttered into your shoulder, still squeezing you.

“I missed you too, Jamie,” You responded with a smile, ruffling his curly hair. You looked over James’ shoulder and spied the tall frame of Remus and the (slightly shorter) frame of Sirius.

“Is that Remus and Sirius I see?” You teased jokingly, pulling away from James’ hug, albeit not without some resistance from the boy, to hug the other two boys and place kisses on each of their cheeks.

“The French are rubbing off on you a bit too much, mademoiselle,” Sirius said charmingly.

“You can only resist the charm of the French for so long, Sirius, it’s harder than you’d think when the boys over there look as lovely as they do,” You said with a cheeky grin as you turned to Remus, “almost as charming as Mr. Lupin here.”

You pulled Remus into another hug, whispering in his ear as you squeezed his shoulders.

“Although you still have yet to beat the lovely ladies over there.”

Remus only chuckled as you stepped away from the embrace and sent him a wink.

James sent a questioning look to Remus, who only shook his head, before scooping you up and tossing you over his shoulder.

“My mother has been dying to see you, she’s brought you up in just about every conversation we’ve had since I arrived home,” James said, carrying you into the kitchen where Euphemia was arranging daisies from the field out back behind their house.

“Oh, darling- James put her down before you drop her on her head! If it isn’t my favorite child,” Euphemia said with a wide smile as she pulled you into a warm hug, “It feels as though it's been forever- you look as beautiful as ever.”

“Thank you, Euphemia, it’s so lovely to see you, I’ve missed you more than Jamie,” You responded teasingly, throwing a smile at the already pouting boy.

The five of them, soon joined by Fleamont, sat around the table enjoying pastries, which Euphemia had baked and you had brought from France, and tea as you told them all about France and James, Sirius, and Remus told everyone (muggle-friendly) stories about all the mischief they had gotten into at school.

Hours passed and the sun began to set as you said your goodbyes, promising to come back in the morning to enjoy breakfast with them.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay for dinner? You know there’s always an extra seat for you,” Euphemia asked, reminding you of the offer that has stood for years.

“Thank you, Euphemia, but I ought to head home, I still have to unpack and get settled back in. I’ll see you in the morning, thank you for having me over,” You called as James walked her to the door.

“Are you sure you don’t want to stay? I mean are your parents even making dinner?” James asked, concern etched across his face.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine, I promise. I’ll see you in the morning, Jamie,” You thanked, pressing a kiss on each side of James’ frowning face, “I swear, it’s okay. Now go do some stupid shit with Remus and Sirius.”

James smiled, “Goodnight, love.”

“Goodnight, Jamie.”

Later that night, James, Sirius, and Remus observed the dark window leading to your room, which was directly across from James’.

“Do you think she’s asleep?” James asked.

“Dunno, mate, it seems a bit early,” Sirius muttered.

“She just got back from France, she’s probably exhausted, Sirius,” Remus pointed out.

The three boys sat in silence for a while, continuing to watch the manor, void of any light within the house. The darkness was soon broken when a taxi pulled up to the house, shining its headlights onto the street in front of it. They watched as you, looking rather drunk, climbed out of the cab, along with a dark figure whose face they couldn’t see, and paid the driver. You waved the car off and it drove away, leaving the only source of illumination to be the glow of two lights on either side of the door to the house. The boys watched as you grabbed the hand of the figure, walked up to the front door, unlocked the door, and entered the house.

After waiting for a few minutes, all of which were spent whispering about the situation to each other, a dim lamp in your room flickered on and the attention of the marauders was turned back to the house. They watched as you and the figure walked in view of the window, which, in turn, made the two of you visible to the boys, who sat huddled together as you grasped the collar of the mystery person and pulled their head down to meet your lips in a sensual, drunken kiss, your hands entangling themselves in the curly hair of the still unknown person as their hands traveled up and down your body, grazing over your shoulders, back, hips, and ass. Your hands moved down to lift the shirt off of the person, the two breaking their kiss and light finally shining onto the face of your hookup.

“Holy shit.”

“Sirius is that-”

“Regulus? I think so.”

“Oh my Godric,” James muttered, gagging slightly at the image of one of his best friends swapping spit with Regulus Black, of all people. He glanced back at the window to see you now topless and Regulus groping at your breasts eagerly.

“This is so wrong,” Remus muttered, glancing over at his two friends.

“Which part? That my best friend, since I was two, is making out with Sirius’ brother- a Slytherin- or the fact that we’re watching it?!” James exclaimed.

“Both- dear Godric, we look like fucking pervs,” Remus muttered, shamefully glancing back at the window as both of your nude bodies moved back until you fell onto your bed, Regulus underneath you and you straddling his hips.

“Look at us, Rem- we’re camped at James’ window watching two people, that we know, getting it on! Shut the curtains,” Sirius exclaimed.

James stood up, reaching for the curtains before sparing one last glance at your window, eyeing your naked body rocking on Regulus’ with your head tossed back and his hands on your waist.

“I can’t believe it,” James muttered slumping onto his bed.

“It’s so fucking nasty- if I could, I would pay my entire lost inheritance to get rid of that image- don’t get me wrong, and sorry Prongs, she’s smokin’ hot, but with Regulus? Hell no,” Sirius complained.

“Padfoot-“ James whined, turning to face his friend, a disgruntled look on his face.

“Imagine what the rest of the Black family would say if they knew Regulus was…-” Sirius interrupted, pausing in disgust as the thought sunk into his mind.

“Having sex?” Remus continued for him.

“With a muggle. He’d be disowned faster than me,” Sirius muttered as his dark hair, which was very similar to Regulus’, hung over his face.

“Can we stop talking about my best friend fucking your brother, Sirius? It’s grossing me out more than I already am from seeing it,” James groaned from his bed, which was right next to the window.

“Yeah. Yeah, whatever. I need to go to bed before I vomit,” Sirius responded, climbing into one of the beds Mr. And Mrs. Potter had set up in advance of him and Remus staying for the summer.

The three boys muttered goodnights to each other, the rustling of sheets settling into a summer night's silence.

It didn’t take long for Remus and Sirius to be passed out on their respective beds, however, James was unable to sleep and remained lying on his bed. As he stared at the ceiling fan, he felt the itch to peek through the window and see if Regulus had left. Climbing out of bed, James glanced over at the sleeping bodies of his friends before pulling back the curtains just enough to see into your window, where he observed your nude form lying on Regulus Black’s chest, your sleeping face barely visible with the light of the moon shining through your window.

Regulus definitely hadn’t left.

Shamefully, James shut the curtains once more and returned to his bed, allowing the darkness of sleep to claim his confused, perverted mind.

[bluepeachstudios]

Little Scraps of Wisdom Anniversary!

Hi everybody! @spectralsleuth's fic Little Scraps of Wisdom was first posted a year ago today and me and @alicat54c got together with some other people to make an anniversary gift <3

If you haven't read it, it's REALLY good, it's a series of stories about Yoshi/Lou escaping Draxum with the kids without being mutated, and him integrating them into human society. Audio's writing is so lovely! <3

Premise of this gift is that the tots from Little Scraps of Empathy (LSoW / Empathy is Learned crossover; also very cute) found Ghost in the sewers and decided to bring him home with them while their family is out.

---------

“You’ll love our big brothers, Mr. Ghost!” the little spotted turtle, Touma, chattered. “Mikey makes the best food, and teaches me how to make the best food too!”

“You guys must eat really well, then,” Ghost murmured, casting apprehensive looks around the home.

“Hm!” Touma squeaked. “Mikey made a whole salmon for Raph yesterday! I got to help!”

“You should sit!” Aoi, the little slider, patted Ghost’s knees. “Dad says it’s polite to sit nice guests on the couch, not stand in the hallway.”

“Oh.” Ghost shuffled further inside, eyes scanning as he let the four little ones guide him into the other room, where he perched on the edge of the couch.

He could see an old magazine on the coffee table, depicting a grinning human in yellow tinted glasses. There were more beneath that, but Shima, the little soft shell, climbed onto the couch next to him, peering into his face intently.

Ghost hesitated before reaching out and petting over his head slowly.

Shima’s glowing red eyes scrunched shut as he leaned into the touch, tiny churr in his throat, before settling back against the opposite arm of the couch. 

“What were you guys doing out in the sewers?” Ghost asked, eyes softening at Shima. “You’ve got a nice house to live in here.”

“Dad never said we couldn’t go outside,” Aoi argued, fiddling with something under the table. “Just that we shouldn’t touch Donnie’s plants, in case, um, something.”

“Eaten,” the snapper, Kouji, signed, flopping onto the floor, where a pile of blankets and cushions had been stacked,

“Thanks for helping us find home!” Touma chirped, struggling to climb onto the couch cushions without digging his claws into the fabric.

Ghost scooped him up, placing him on the couch. His eyes kept drifting over the magazines on the table, then back up to sweep all the entrances.

Touma cuddled against him immediately, little yellow spots creasing like freckles as he smiled. “Thank you Mr. Ghost!”

“Yeah…” Ghost petted over Touma’s shell. “How did you all end up here…?”

“We used to live in the storm drain, before Dad found us,” Aoi chattered. They seemed to be setting up a game of chess on the coffee table. “We wanted to see what the storm drains here were like. We didn’t mean to get lost! But it’s okay, we found you! Dad likes turtles, so Dad’s gonna like you too!”

Ghost hunched his shoulders slightly, taking note of the exits once more.

Touma chirped, cuddling against his plastron. His grip was strong for a turtle of his size. “It’s okay, Dad’s nice! He makes sure no one screams at us! You don’t have to be scared!”

“Oh, no, it’s not–” Ghost paused, taking a breath and curling an arm around Touma. “That’s… good to know.”

“Do you want to play with me?” Aoi’s red eyes peered up at Ghost hopefully.

Ghost surveyed the board game, nodding. “You play?”

“Hm!” Aoi nodded. “Leo, my big brother, is teaching me how to play better, and lots’a other fun games too! He’s the best! Do you know any fun games?”

“Some…” Ghost sat forward on the couch to peer at the board. “You can go first.”

“Okay!” Aoi moved a knight. 

As they played, and whichever hand was free went to petting either Touma or Shima, Ghost wondered why a famous actor would adopt not four, but supposedly eight entire mutant turtles. He couldn’t see anything to gain from it, except perhaps more fame, but it came with more problems than it was worth. There were easier ways to get famous.

Ghost wondered why they were living aboveground, in a normal house, on a normal block, like they were humans. Was it possible?

Casually, he moved some of the magazines to look at the covers. If not Lou Jitsu, then it was Hamato Leonardo, posed and dressed like a model, bright red crescents always prominent. Ghost could feel his own Leonardo cringing at the thought of being seen, let alone modeling for a magazine on purpose. 

How did everyone know about them and nothing happened? Was it possible to live like this?

“Checkmate!” Aoi chirped, drawing his attention forward again.

Ghost blinked. He hadn’t been paying that much attention to the game and it had cost him. “Mm. You’re very good.”

Aoi beamed, tail wiggling. “Leo’s teaching me! He’s really fun to play with! Um, I like playing with you too!”

Ghost’s eyes softened. “Yeah. Me too.” He started to reset the board. “Another game?” He would pay attention this time. Give the kid a run for his money, as it were.

“Yeah!” Aoi chirped, already resetting the board.

“Shelldon says Dad and everyone’s gonna be home soon,” Shima hummed, playing with a tiny spider between their claws. It glinted metallically. 

“I should…” Ghost stood, stiff. “I should go.”

“You can’t go!”Touma cried, latching onto his arm like a vice.

“You gotta stay!” Aoi latched onto his leg just as tightly. He was trapped. 

“I can’t,” Ghost insisted, desperately. “I have to go, I can’t– I’m not supposed to–”

“Nooo!” Aoi whined, as Kouji wriggled out of his nest to capture Ghost’s other leg. “We want you to meet Dad and our brothers!”

“I can’t, I don’t belong here!” Ghost tried plucking them off carefully but they were like barnacles. If he wasn’t terrified of hurting them, he could have run.

If he really wanted to, he could have gotten away.

There was a rattle of keys in the lock, frantic worried voices on the doorstep. 

“Daddy!” The little turtles cheered, voices eerily in sync. 

The door opened.

Ghost swallowed.

Looks like he was stuck here for a while. 

[ghost-bxrd]

Okay so I know this wasn’t the intention, but I read the most recent part of Owl Song and now I can’t stop thinking about Ivy, Jason, and Dick.

Like, in canon she fought both of them as Robin (I think??? I’m pretty sure she was around for Dick’s Robin) and she’s one of the better Rogues in terms of motive and morals. She probably cared for both of them somewhat, so how do you think she (and the other semi-decent rogues) took it when Jason died?

Ah I see how it is, we’re unpacking the good questions now!!!

So at first Ivy probably didn’t notice. Let’s be real, she’s got better things to do then play “keeping up with the batfamily”, and yeah, sure, some of her plants have been getting agitated the more days went by without sightings of either Robin or his loyal shadow (either Batman or Talon/Nightwing), but eh, maybe they’re on vacation or something.

But then Batman is back on the streets and it’s BadTM. Even simple thugs need to be hospitalized, more than one comes close to actually dying (one even flatlines for a moment) and Ivy gets suspicious. Not enough to raise any alarms just yet, still, odd. And still no sight of Robin anywhere.

And then the Joker keeps being found. All over Gotham. Her plants her agitated, they keep whispering about the child-from-the-clocktower and the-one-who-is-cold. And even Ivy can’t keep turning a blind eye.

At first she checks in with Harley, but her girlfriend she doesn’t have any insight either having just returned from a mission with the Birds of Prey (timeline? What timeline). So, dead end. And Crane is a no-go because the Bat hospitalized him with way too many broken bones just the other day.

Two-face it is, but Harvey (both sides of him) are equally as disturbed by the Bat’s sudden volatility as Ivy and he is now on board with trying to find out just what made the Bat snap.

(At this point she’s having a veeery bad feeling about this. Especially because even weeks later Robin is still suspiciously absent from the streets, and there are only whispers of Talon/Nightwing and even her plants can’t seem to pin down either of them.)

Next up is the Riddler, who is already neck-deep into investigation (because how dare Batman not appreciate all his carefully laid riddles and instead punch in faces of low time criminals! And also he may be a teeny-tiny bit worried about the sassy sidekick but SUE him, the kid grows on you like a particularly stubborn case of the pocks ok!?) and immediately agrees to a temporary ceasefire.

So now we have part of the rogue gallery joining forces to find out just wtf is going on, and their next bet is the elusive Catwoman.

And let’s say Selina doesn’t know who Batman is but she’s got soft spot for the big burry anyway so she’s CONCERNED ok? It doesn’t take much persuasion to join forces with the rest of the rag-tag group of high profile rogues to figure this out, and her next proposition is this: grill the Penguin for information.

Oswald Cobblepot is SO not prepared for the joint forces of Catwoman, Two-Face, Riddler, Harley, and Ivy and before long he’s telling them what little he knows about the Joker and his excursion to Ethiopia.

And they all just kinda— freeze. Because— what? No, Robin can’t be dead. Robin is magic. That spunky little kid who’d throw pebbles at Riddler, the one who’d always try to pick-pocket Catwoman, the one urging Harley to leave-the-Joker-he’s-an-ass, the one who always drives Harvey insane with his prime numbers, the one who’d stalked all the way into Robinson park just to ask Ivy how to save the little potted plant he’d been gifted—-

No, no he can’t be dead… right?

But he is. And the talon who’d always kept him safe? That one is gone, too. Nobody knows where he went, but Batman is unspooling, and unspooling fast. And the rogues… well, for once they keep quiet. they don’t give Batman any additional grief (god knows he’s got enough) and instead now make it a point to keep kids out of their business in silent solidarity.

From that day forward any and all people who try to associate themselves with the Joker get taken down by them with extreme prejudice. You think Batman is bad? Try spouting some Joker loving bullshit in front of Ivy. She doesn’t even have to ask her plants to gut you and hang you from the carousel at amusement mile like a Christmas ornament. And god forbid you say anything negative about Robin.

[ohtobeleah]

PL2

6 - In bed at 2am, blissfully drowsy

&

37 - “You're stuck with me, like it or not.”

With my favorite WSO good ol' Baby On Board (Sorry Fanboy)

I see you, and I raise you Bob Floyd with the Admirals Daughter.

Warnings: None :)

Bob had been freaking the fuck out ever since he’d gotten the call from the county hospital that you’d been admitted. The worst part about knowing you were in the hospital was the fact he couldn’t just up and leave in the middle of a tactical response seminar. But the second he was finished? The second Mav had stopped talking and dismissed the group of Elite Naval Aviators that sat before him, Bob was racing off down the hall, collecting his keys from his locker and making a rush to the county hospital across town. 

Because of course they couldn’t take you to the Base Hospital could they? No—that would’ve been too easy. 

“You have a patient here, Y/n Y/l/n—what room is she in?” There were two things about Robert Floyd that still seemed to shock people when they figured him out. 

“Miss Y/l/n, is resting and—“ Bob didn’t let the nurse sitting at the nurses station finish her sentence. 

“I asked what room she’s in.” The first thing that seemed to shock people about Bob was that he lost all sense of politeness and rationality when the people he cared about were in pain or in any kind of danger. Phoenix found that out one night at the Hard Deck when some guy touched her ass. Robert Floyd, who at that point had shown no sign of aggression or intention to ever engage in any sort of physical contact, stood up after he finished his last sip of lemon lime bitters and threw the hardest right hook he could. 

“As I was saying, she can’t have any visitors.” Bob didn’t like that response at all as the nurse went back to her paperwork. 

“Listen to me—“ The second thing about Robert ‘Bob’ Floyd that shocked people when they finally connected the dots, was that he was dating none other than Admiral Beau Simpson's daughter and had been doing so for a number of years before he even crossed paths with Cyclone at Miramar. “I’m gonna ask you one more time—“ But Bob already knew Cyclone from the many dinners he’d been over for during holiday seasons and family get-togethers. It didn’t however change the hostility the pair shared. “What room is my girlfriend in—“ Because there was something Bob hadn’t done yet that your father thought he should have done by now if he was serious about his baby girl. 

Bob hadn’t Proposed. 

“Floyd.” Cyclone called out from down the hall as Bob turned in the direction your fathers voice had come from. “She’s in room 1024.” Bob waisted not a second of time as he made his way towards your dad. 

“You’ve seen her?” 

“It’s locked.” 

“I don’t care—“ You were Bob's entire world, his best friend, the love of his life, his better half. “I need to see her.” As Bob tried to push past your dad, Cyclone put his hand on Bob's shoulder, catching his attention and stopping him from taking another step forward. 

“What are you gonna do kid? Are you gonna break the door down?”

“Yeah—“ Bob nodded as he pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “If I have to.” All Beau did in response was let his hopefully one day soon son in law go, watching as he made a direct line towards your hospital room. 

“I spoke to the doctors, they said she fainted at school but she’s fine Robert.” 

“If she fainted then she isn’t alright now is she!?” Bob spat back at your dad as he continued down the hall. Cyclone stayed hot on his tail. 

“They said she’s run down and a little dehydrated but she’s okay.” 

“Alright so then why won’t they let anyone see her?” Bob asked as he stopped in his stride and turned back to Cyclone who looked just as worried as Bob. 

“Because she’s sleeping, she needs it.” Bob knew better than anyone how hard you’d been overworking yourself. Between working full time and studying you were spread pretty thin. Bob thought you needed to take a step back, he saw the way you had been neglecting your own health in order to fit study into your already jam packed schedule. “Bob, she’s fine.” Bob let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding in ever since he got the call you’d been taken to hospital. “She’s gonna be okay kid.” 

“What are you even doing here?” Bob questioned your dad as he ran his hands through his hair. 

“I’m one of her emergency contacts, they called me.”

“Yeah I know that but—“ Bob didn’t mean to sound rude, he was just stating the obvious. Beau Simpson had never been an overly passionate father figure. And it seemed as though Beau caught onto what his somewhat son in law had been insinuating. 

“You mean what’s a heartless shithead like me doing in a place like this?” 

“Yeah something like that.” Bob replied, was he proud of himself? No not really, but he knew his point had been made. 

“I would’ve come for you too if you ever worked hard enough to pass out.” Cyclone tapped Bob's shoulder as he smiled softly. “But you never have.” Bob chuckled softly too as both men saw a nurse stepping out of your room, gesturing that they could enter if they wanted to. “You go, I’m sure she wants to see you before anyone else.” 

“Thanks Sir.” Bob replied as he nodded and pressed his lips together. “Thank you for caring about her enough to come.” Bob left it at that, not quite hearing what Admiral Sysmpison said under his breath.

“You too son, you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

The next day after Bob had admittedly refused to leave your side overnight, you were both getting home to an empty house that had been left unattended overnight. 

However, as you slept soundly while Bob kept a watchful eye on you, he asked Fanboy and Phoenix if it wasn’t too much trouble, if they could swing by and just spruce the place up a little bit. 

They did without hesitation because they knew if there were still things that needed to be done around the home you and Bob shared, you truly wouldn’t be able to rest. And all you needed right now was rest. And plenty of it.

“Alright so here’s what you’re gonna do.” Bob cooed as he cupped your face and pulled you close the moment you both stepped through the threshold of your humble abode. “You’re gonna go upstairs and take a long, hot shower and relax while I cook us some food.” 

“I can help you cook.” You tried to argue but the look you got from your boyfriend in return was enough to tell you that he was serious about you doing nothing. “Alright alright, I’ll be in the shower.” 

“When you're done it’s straight into pyjamas, no ifs or buts.” Bob shouted after you as you walked up the stairs. You were so thankful to have Bob, someone who cared enough about you to want to take care of you and tell you to slow the hell down. You thought you were fine until you weren’t fine. Which was why Bob felt it was important and absolutely critical that he stayed home with you for a day or two to make sure you weren’t going to start back up into the almost psychotic routine you’d been putting yourself through to fit everything in. 

“Okay so I know you aren’t sick but I also know you can’t be feeling too crash hot so—“ Bob cooed as he opened the bedroom door a little wider with his foot to see you getting ready to hop into bed. “I thought chicken soup and toast might be good.” Bob explained as he padded across the bedroom, carrying two bowls of delicious soup on a tray.

“Is that your mum's chicken soup?” You asked curiously as the smell captivated your senses as Bob moved closer. “Oh god it smells so good.” Bob was as careful as he could be as he sat down beside you in bed, holding the tray he’d brought in with two bowls of soup and buttered toast to go with. 

“I didn’t have time to make it from scratch so I just got some out of the deep freeze.” You really did love Robert Floyd, and for what it was worth you’d say yes in a heartbeat if he ever did ask you to marry him. But it was something you weren’t too pressed about—you were just happy to enjoy the moments you had with him. “But here, we’re gonna sit down and we’re gonna eat this soup and we’re gonna watch Shameless because I know that you’ve been needing to find the time to finish it and now a time has presented itself.” Bob babbled as he passed you your bowl and took his own as he expertly manoeuvred his legs under the covers. “Don’t argue either.” 

“I feel fine, I promise—“ You tried to argue anyway as you blew on your spoon full of soup, sending Bob the biggest puppy dog eyes you could conjure up. “But this is perfect, thank you for this.” 

“Anytime.” Bob leaned in to kiss your cheek before the pair of you settled in for an afternoon in bed binge watching Shameless and trying to not think about the copious amounts of studying you had and the fact you had to miss work. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” 

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~**

2am rolled around a hell of a lot quicker than it normally did. Maybe it was because you and Bob had spent the majority of the afternoon in bed together or perhaps it was the fact that after your bowl of Bob's mum's chicken noodle soup, you felt a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. Blissfully drowsy in a love filled embrace you snuggled into the warmth of Bob's exposed chest as he wrapped you into him, half dazed and sleeping. 

“I could stay like this forever.” You mumbled as you tried to get yourself back to sleep. Bob had always been a little sleeper. So much so it felt like sometimes he was always alert to what was going on around him, especially you. “But I know reality is chewing on our heels.” 

“You're stuck with me, like it or not.” Bob cooed as he pulled you in closer. “I took the next few days off to just be with you.” He explained, knowing that in the next day or two he was going to finally ask you to marry him. “So, reality is gonna have to wait, miss overachiever, because you're stuck with me.”

Smiling into Bob's armpit, you beamed at the thought. Damn, he really cared huh. 

“I don’t think that sounds all that awful at all baby.”

***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~***~

Leah’s 4k celebration 🎊

[babybluebex]

Ryd and N Side by Steve Lacy make me think of Dom (specifically in college)

oh college!dom is a continuous thought, like meeting him at a frat party (bc i can only imagine what greek life at cmu is like, bc my small tiny university's greek life is WILD) and like maybe he's in your bio lecture or something so you know he's around and you think he's super cute but you've never actually spoken bc there's like 60 people in your bio lecture but anyway, you see him at this frat party and you lock eyes from across the room and you hold his gaze for longer than you might've usually, but you had a beer in your hand and you were feeling pretty good so your confidence was somewhere else

and he starts to cross the room, obviously coming over to you, and your friend grabs your arm "holy shit!" and you're like "wuh??" and she goes "is that dominic sessa?" "who?" you ask, like doubly like who are you talking about? and who is dominic sessa? and your friend goes "the guy in the flannel shirt walking this way, he's an actor, and he's really good, and he's super hot, but i didn't think he was back on campus yet—" "oh, a theater student, whatever" you scoff and your friend is QUICK to correct you "no, dude, he was in a movie that was nominated for an oscar. he's got like a bafta or something, he's famous!" and at about that moment, dom approaches you, and you see that he has his own red plastic cup in his hand, his dab pen in the other, flannel and wolf tshirt and dirty white sneakers and messy hair, and he's so smooth and easy "you're in my bio lecture, right?" he asks and your friend about dies "uh, yeah" you nod, aware of your friend's heart attack happening as she grips your arm "you're... i know your name, i swear, you sit towards the back of the hall..." "i do" he says "you sit in the front row" "i do" you echo "sorry, it's, ah, not coming to me... i've had a little bit to drink" "no sweat" he chuckles easily "i'm dom" "that's right" you nod and you quickly tell him your name and introduce your friend, and dom nods and smiles at her, but he's focused on you the whole time (specifically your lips, and you're so glad your friend talked you into wearing lipstick and actually dressing up for the party) "you wanna go outside?" dom asks "i wanna smoke, and i can't really hear myself think in here" "sure" you nod, and your friend smiles at you and takes the hint "oh, i think see my friend over there! i'm gonna go say hi!" and leaves you and dom to navigate through the cramped house party and out to the front porch of the frat house, where it's significantly quieter and cooler than inside

"that's better" and he sinks into one of the fabric patio chairs, taking a pull on his pen, and when he speaks, the smoke curls off his lips in a way that makes your back stiffen "nothing against kid cudi, but..." and you laugh and occupy the chair across from him "do you live on campus?" and you nod "barton hall" (listen i KNOW cmu doesn't have a dorm called barton, dON'T YELL AT ME) and dom scoffs "what?! i'm not a freshman, barton isn't just a freshman dorm, it's just mostly a freshman dorm" "no, no, that's not why i'm laughing" dom chuckles "i, uh... the high school i went to was a boarding school, and the dorm i lived in senior year was called barton" "oh wow" and you lean forward with the intention of hearing him better, but he starts to pass you his pen "oh, no thanks" "cool" he mumbles "what's your major?" and you tell him, trying to reel in your geeky overexplanation of your field of study, whatever it may be, and he laughs his goofy little gasping laugh "wow, that's awesome" "what about you?" you ask, and he sorta goes a little red "acting" he says "theater, performance art, whatever you wanna call it..." "wow" you breath, and your friend's words circle in your head, how he allegedly won a bafta ("or something") and you decide to play it cool— you're sure millions of girls fawn over him every day for his work, and even though your ignorance is real, you don't want to give him the impression that you're only talking to him because of that (even though you're not) "what do you wanna do with that?" "see, that's the question" dom says "my granddad asks me that every time i see him, he doesn't get it, yknow? but that's what i wanna do— that's what i currently do, i just wanna understand the technique better and how to be a better actor" "currently?" you ask with confusion and dom bites his lip and lets it slowly release, obviously mulling over something in his head, but he doesn't answer you "you hungry?" he asks suddenly "i'm starving" and you shrug "i could eat" but his avoidance sets the mood for the rest of the night: he doesn't wanna talk about his job, so you won't

and you decide to walk to a nearby little joint, neither of you are in much state to drive and the buses stopped running for the night, and it's nice, just the two of you, sharing stories and getting to know each other, and he's a genuinely really great guy, pays attention to you when you talk and expresses excitement in stuff you're obviously interested in, he asks a question about your major and you're like "oh, that's like complicated, it gets into the technical weeds and shit of the field" and he shrugs "i'm an acting major. i'll never know that sorta stuff if you don't tell me. weed away" and like his hands are all over you, but in a nice way, hand pushed into your back pocket or arm around your shoulders, subtle signs to the guys you pass on the sidewalk there that, at least for that moment, you're his and when you get to the place, it's essentially a little hole in the wall, buzzy fluorescent lights and high tables and some tinny radio from the back playing rap music, and you order first, just a cheeseburger and fries and a coke, and dom gently pushes you aside before you can dig your card out of your pocket to pay and goes on with his order, looking at the menu sign, and he sorta scoffs "yeah, cheeseburger, fries... shit, why not, and a miller high life" and you get seated and you're playfully frowning at him "you didn't have to do that" "do what?" "pay for my food" and he shrugs "a gentleman can't just sit idly by and watch a pretty girl pay" "oh, is that what you are? a gentleman?" and you ball up the paper straw wrapper and lob it at him and he laughs "aren't i?" he asks "i suppose so" and you roll your eyes "but i doubt your judgement" "on what possible grounds?" and you eye the glass bottle of beer he's got in his grip "really??" "ok, y'know what, i have a valid argument" he starts and you playfully chastise him that no argument makes it ok to drink that shitty beer, and he goes "baby, they call it the champagne of beers for a reason!" and you register that he called you baby, but you don't comment on it "not valid, try again" and he sighs playfully "it's a joke i have with my-my uncle" and you notice the tripping over his words, but again you say nothing "do you have insta?" you ask, changing the subject, and dom swallows down a mouthful of miller "nah" he says quickly, and you get that sense of avoidance again, shaking his head "i've got snap, though" "well, let's get that, then" you tell him and start to grab your phone from your pocket "why? you wanna text me after tonight?" he asks with a smarmy little crooked smile "only to ask about our work for bio" you tease him

and you think the night's gonna be over after you eat, it's getting to be a little late, and he sorta takes your fingers in his as you leave the little joint, and he asks "you live on campus?" "you already asked me that" you say "i live in barton, remember?" "fuck, right" dom nods "got a roommate?" "yes" you nod, sensing what his next few questions will be "and she's part of the, like, catholic students association, so... might be best to go to your place" "oh, what?" dom asks "what would we do at your dorm that your catholic roommate wouldn't approve of?" and somehow his awkward big eyes and wolf tshirt and all sharp angles of the elbows and knees have totally disrupted your state of mind, because for once in your life, you're bold "i can think of a few things" you tell him, and dom tilts his head at you, that same crooked smile crossing his plush lips "name one" he says, and his finger touches your chin, keeping you from averting your gaze "alright" you say "i'd really really like your dick inside me, and i sorta don't think she'd appreciate that" "my place is good" dom says quickly, and you laugh as he whips an arm around your shoulders

and you get back to his place, a small apartment where he assures you that his flatmates are either gone or won't hear you, and you can hardly take in the sparse, college-boy decorating job in the front room before he's tugging you down the hall to a room with a little nametag taped to the door that says ANGUS TULLY in big, bold letters, and you start to comment that like?? is that his room?? that's not his name on the door?? but he's closing the door with his foot and kissing up on your neck before you can say anything, and you let yourself melt into his arms

he gently situates you on his bed and shucks off his flannel, and your hands fumble at his belt, and you groan a little "too dark, i can't see shit" and dom chuckles and leans over and flicks on his lamp, and your gaze follows his hand as it retracts from the nightstand, and you're met with the imposing feature of a large, silver, metal thing tucked behind his lamp, it's difficult to see from the angle you're at, but it's certainly there, and you furrow your eyebrows at it

and dom follows your eyes, and he sorta deflates, it's very obvious he had hoped that you wouldn't see the trophy, and he swallows hard "oh, um—" and you sit up a little to get a better look at the engraving on the base: DOMINIC SESSA - BEST YOUNG ACTOR, and in smaller font below it, CRITICS CHOICE AWARDS 2024

or something, as your friend had said. he didn't have a bafta, but he certainly had an award. you can tell that he's a little uncomfortable, his hands suddenly more fidgety than before, and you look back at him before you cup the back of his neck and pull him into a kiss, and he doesn't do anything weird, he kisses you completely normally, his hands smoothing down your hips and thighs to wrap your legs around his waist, and he breaks the kiss "fuck, m'sorry... i have to know what you're thinking about after you just saw that fucking thing"

and you sorta laugh "i'm thinking that i don't really care too much" you tell him "you're a cool guy, and i don't— i didn't recognize you when we first started talking, so... whatever, y'know? so what if my friend has an oscar?"

"first of all" and he steals a kiss and his hand slinks down to rub at you through your jeans "friend? i'm wounded, baby. and also, that's not an oscar, it's a critics choice award, they're two very different things—"

"whatever! i'm not a movie person!" you giggle "but why do you keep it on your bedside table? to impress all the girls you bring home?"

"well, you're the first" he says "are you impressed?"

"it's kinda freaking me out, to be honest" you tell him, and he huffs out a laugh

"we can put it away" he says and he gets up and grabs it like it's no big, and moves to his closet and puts it on a shelf before closing the door back "and it was there because my mom facetimed me last night and asked to see it, and i just didn't put it back"

and he comes back to you and starts to tug down your jeans while he kisses you, and he playfully whispers "you're all quiet now. want me to fix that for you?" "can you?" you ask him, and he smiles "i will" he says "if you tell me one thing" "which is?" and a flicker of something hints behind his eyes "you really didn't know who i was when i came up to you?" and you shake your head "you haven't seen the movie? or, like, even heard about me?" "wow, someone's got an ego suddenly" you scoff "i told you, i'm not a movie person. i haven't even seen that barbie movie that was really big last year" "oh, ok, hold on" he starts "i get not seeing my pretentious movie about grief and shit like that, it's not everyone's first choice, but barbie?! you haven't seen barbie?!" "dude, fuck off!" you giggle "do you wanna have sex or not?" "i do!" dom says quickly "but hand me my phone first" "why?" you ask, and feel around underneath you to where dom had discarded the stuff from his pockets, and you pass him his phone "i..." he starts, using both hands to type quickly, and your hands go to his belt, resuming the job you had started "am texting... ryan... and telling him about this..." "ryan...?" you ask "gosling" dom says casually and you look at him in confusion "he played ken?" and at your blank stare, he playfully sighs "you're killing me here, baby" "what're you telling him?" you ask, and dom tosses his phone aside "that i've got an absolute hottie in my bed right now" he says, going for your neck "and that she doesn't know who the fuck he is. you think i've got a big ego?" "well" you start, and his jeans come loose, and you push your hand in, past the band of his boxers, and you gently bite his bottom lip "guess you've got a reason, don't you?"

[thegirlwiththeblush]

It Ain't the Being Alone

Rose Tyler, Thirteenth Doctor, Tenth Doctor

Word Count: 1.57k

Fandom: Doctor Who

Song Inspiration: Unknown / Nth by Hozier

Summary: Rose Tyler runs into a couple of strangers who don't really feel like strangers.

a/n: I hope people who need closure from the Doctor and Rose find this fic; I wrote this because I would've loved to see the dynamic between Thirteen and Rose, so hopefully people enjoy my spin on it! Special thanks to my dearest @vorsdany of course for proofreading and being so generous with her encouragement!

Rose Tyler often felt like she was being watched. It wasn’t the typical feeling; it wasn’t anxiety-inducing, nor was she on her guard. It felt as if the stories from her childhood of fairy godmothers and angels watching over you were true; she felt almost protected or safeguarded. Only, she couldn’t pinpoint the source of the feeling.  

 Maybe it was the tall, gallant-looking man wearing a fez and bow tie visiting Henrik’s when she was on shift, flashing her a bright smile in passing that she felt deep in her soul. Perhaps it was the grey gentleman in the velvet waistcoat who passed her as she boarded the bus across town one day, his scowling demeanour fading when she turned toward him.  

 It could’ve been the man she ran into after leaving her mother on her way home on New Year’s, hiding in the shadows and groaning oddly. 

 “You alright, mate?” she’d asked. She wrapped her arms tighter around herself as the snow caught in her golden hair. 

 “Yeah,” he replied, not meeting her gaze.  

 “Too much to drink?” 

 He took a moment to catch his breath, before standing to his full height. In the poor lighting of the alley, she could just make out his umber trench coat and navy suit underneath. He appeared to be wearing a pair of maroon Converse high-tops; an interesting fashion choice, she thought. “Something like that.” His dark eyes settled on hers, and even in the darkness, she could sense some kind of affliction deep in them, something other than intoxication.  

 She smiled softly at him anyway. “Maybe it’s time you went home,” she suggested amiably, no ill intent in her words. 

 “Yeah,” he agreed. His eyes never left hers. 

 “Anyway,” she grinned, bending her knees and leaning forward in a friendly gesture, “happy new year!” 

 “And you.” 

 She took her leave, her scarf swaying around her legs as she began sauntering home, frowning curiously as she pondered the encounter.  

 “What year is this?” 

 She spun back round before fully processing his question. A chuckle bubbled up in her chest and she couldn’t help but let it out as she asked, “Blimey, how much have you had?”  

 He made a strangled, throaty sound, shaking his head slightly, as if to confirm that he’d had, in fact, quite a lot. Her smile faded slightly in concern. “2005, January the 1st,” she said. 

 “2005,” he repeated breathlessly, and she nodded, blinking rapidly. “Tell you what,” he continued, “I bet you’re gonna have a really great year.” 

 Her smile reappeared. “Yeah?” She couldn’t believe she was taking a random drunkard in the street seriously, but there was something incredibly inviting and reassuring about him. The grin he gave her in return, although somewhat rueful for some reason, warmed her to her core, and she looked away shyly, before turning to him once more. “See ya!” With that, she bounded across the street to her home, only looking back once she’d made it inside. He still stood there staunchly, as if frozen to the pavement. She tried to put him out of her mind as she made her way upstairs to her apartment. 

 Ever since that night, the feeling had only intensified, and while she didn’t mind it that much, it was almost impossible to ignore. 

 One day, she’d run off to Potters Field Park, flustered and bothered after a disagreement with Mickey. She couldn’t go home just yet, or her mum would end up complaining about something or other, like her favourite show not being on the telly, or Jimbo not answering her calls. Not that she minded, she just wasn’t in the headspace to be dealing with that right now.  

 She found herself a park bench facing Tower Bridge, the dew from the grass permeating through her sneakers and the cold air seeping into her bones. She sighed as she sat back and regarded the bright, cloudless sky and the world before her blankly. In her zoned-out state, she barely noticed the blonde, wiry woman approaching her softly and slowly.  

 “Hello,” she began, startling Rose out of her daze. “Mind if I sit here?” A thick Yorkshire accent imbued her words with a gentle excitement; Rose couldn’t help but think she must be a long way from home.  

 “Yes, of course,” she replied, scooting over to make more room for her. The woman’s long, periwinkle trench coat splayed out across the bench, and she scrambled not to let it encroach on Rose’s personal space. Tucking it underneath her, she made herself comfortable, sitting on her hands and drawing her mouth into a tight, straight line. They sat like this for a moment, in uneasy silence while Rose wondered why she couldn’t have found her own park bench, before she finally spoke.  

 “I wonder if I could ask you something,” she said, turning to Rose with her eyebrows furrowed. “Some advice, I suppose.” 

 Rose raised an eyebrow quizzically. “You’re asking a stranger in London for advice?”  

 “There’s something about you that makes me feel like we’re not really strangers.”  

 Rose was about to scoff at this, but she hesitated, staring back at the mysterious woman. She couldn’t help but feel as if... she was right. She couldn’t put a finger on why, but she couldn’t argue her bizarre point.  

 “Go on, then,” she finally agreed.  

 “I lost someone,” the woman continued, “many years ago. Many, many years ago.” 

 “Blimey, you don’t look like you’ve lived ‘many, many years.’” 

 The woman grinned. “Thank you. My skincare routine is out of this world.” She suppressed a giggle, as if she’d told a hilarious inside joke, and Rose blinked several times, but disregarded it.  

 Shifting awkwardly on the bench, she went on. “I can’t seem to get over it, no matter where I go or how much time passes. I can’t stop myself from going to see her, even just to know she’s okay, or to see that beautiful smile again.” She beamed proudly. “Her smile is one of the most precious things on this amazing planet.” 

 “Ah, so she’s still alive?” Rose clarified. She was struggling to keep up. 

 The woman scrunched her nose. “Well, sort of. Not really, but in a way. It depends.” 

 Rose was beginning to accept that this person was not entirely sane; how in the world did someone’s existence depend on anything? Nevertheless, shaking her head in bewilderment, she asked, “And what advice did you want to ask?” 

 The woman had been distracted by a small, round house sparrow, hopping through the grass in search of scraps, all alone. “Now I’m not sure,” she admitted, still staring at the lone bird. “I suppose just... what to do. How do I keep going with this grief weighing me down?”  

 A twinge of pity pricked Rose’s heart. “This girl really meant a lot to you,” she murmured the obvious. 

 “She was like an angel to me,” the woman concurred, biting her lip and turning her head as the sparrow bounced its way over to them.  

 “How long has it been since you last saw her?” 

 “Ah, now there’s a very difficult question to answer,” the woman laughed as she looked up, but when she met Rose’s exasperated gaze, she cleared her throat and corrected herself, looking away ashamedly. “Quite recently, actually.” 

“Don’t you think, maybe,” Rose suggested, sighing and wondering once again why she was having such a deep conversation with a stranger, “that to get over her, you need to stop seeing her? Unless you’re visiting her grave, I’m still not quite clear on whether she’s alive or not.” 

 “Let’s just go with alive.” 

 “Well, alright.” 

 The woman seemed uncomfortable from being confronted with this point. She mulled it over, grabbing an item from her pocket and rotating it between her fingers. Rose could not discern its purpose or even shape; it appeared to be a distorted shaft of metal, with a glowing amber core running through it, reaching a glowing head at one end. “I suppose you’re right,” she murmured.  

 “I know it can be hard, the loneliness and missing them and what you had,” Rose sympathised. 

 The woman’s face contorted in deliberation. She allowed herself a moment to arrange her thoughts before responding. “I don’t think it’s the being alone that’s worst. It’s more, the being unknown.” Zoning out, she pressed a small button on the hunk of metal, producing a buzzing and whirring sound that startled Rose. “Sometimes I think there are some people who are better unknown.” 

 Rose wondered whether she meant the girl she so dearly missed, or perhaps, herself.  

 The woman stood up abruptly, shoving the metallic item back inside her coat and smoothing the fabric. “Well, I shouldn’t bother you any longer,” she announced, beaming warmly at Rose. “Thank you for your help.” 

 Staring back dazedly, Rose shrugged. “It’s no problem. I hope you are, er, able to find your peace.”  

 The woman’s expression turned rueful. “Thank you,” she replied. “Me too.” 

 As she sauntered away, Rose called after her, “Wait!” 

 She turned back with a small smile and eyebrows raised, almost as if she’d hoped Rose would call her back. 

 “You never told me your name,” Rose said. 

 The woman’s smile grew into a cheeky grin, and she raised one finger to her lips. “Spoilers,” she said. With that, she turned away again and strode off, leaving Rose utterly baffled and ready to go home for a very long nap. 

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 11)

Summary: Madison starts school, you find a job, and your family finds a new normal until Timothée calls you with bad news. You and Madison help him through his loss.

C/W: Death, funeral of a parent/grandparent

Catch up on previous chapters here.

Time flew by after that night as you and your family (including Timothée) found your new normal. Madison started school again and quickly acclimated to her new surroundings. She joined gardening and ukulele clubs and thrived socially and academically.

You stumbled upon a part-time job at the library as a grant writer. You visited frequently to get out of the house and use the wi-fi for job hunting (AKA away from your mother reading over your shoulder). One day, you spotted a flyer on their bulletin board and inquired. They needed help finding funding for more youth and adult programs, and you needed a job and enjoyed writing. It was also flexible enough that you could be available for Madison's school functions. Win-win.

In your excitement, you rushed over to Timothée's place. He stepped out of his workshop at the sound of wheels crunching the gravel. A broad grin painted his face when he saw you get out of the car.

"Hey, baby!" he called as he walked up to you. "This is an unusual time for a visit. Not that I'm complaining, of course." He gave you a quick peck of a kiss.

You set your hands on his shoulders. "Remember that night we were fighting about me leaving for school, and I said I have a lot to offer the world and can't do that from here?"

Timothée paled as his smile dropped, unsure what you were about to say next. "Yeah...?"

"I still have a lot to offer the world, but I finally figured out I can do that from here. For here." You clasped your hands and clapped as you jumped up and down slightly. "I got a job at the library as a grant writer!"

It took a brief moment for Timothée to catch up to what you were saying before he joined you in your excitement. "That's fantastic, babe!" He wrapped you in a nearly crushing hug and spun you around. You beamed up at him when he set you back down.

"It's wonderful to see you so happy," he added as he looked down into your eyes.

"I am happy. The happiest I have been in nearly a decade."

<><><><><>

Things were looking up as you got into the groove of your new job. You and Timothée fell into a rhythm of alternating family dinners with your respective parents and date nights for just the two of you. He was also very intentional about making time to hang out with Madison. Once they discovered their shared love of bowling after he introduced her to the sport, it became their "thing" every Tuesday evening, along with dinner at the diner...

...until the Tuesday after Thanksgiving.

It was odd for Timothée to call or text you during the work day. He was very respectful of giving you space to concentrate on your writing and didn't want to be a distraction. You answered immediately, knowing it must be important.

"Hey, Timmy, what's up?"

You heard him sniffle on the other end of the line. "My dad, he-" He couldn't finish before he was overtaken by sobs, but you knew what we has trying to say. You gasped slightly.

"Timmy, where are you?"

"H-home."

"Stay put. I will be right there." You packed up your things and told your boss you were leaving. You sped to the Chalamet's and went to Timothée's house first. It was dark inside, but that didn't prevent you from banging on the locked door. You were met with silence. Next, you ran over to his dad's house. Thankfully the door was unlocked, allowing you to quietly enter. You found Timothée in the living room curled up in his dad's favorite armchair. You sat on your knees in front of him and buried your fingers in his dark curls.

"Oh, Timmy..."

He looked at you, but his eyes were blank. His voice sounded so tiny as he explained, "Dad was tired, so he went to take a nap when I went out to the workshop. Not abnormal these days. But when I came back to check on him..." He interrupted himself by trying to clear the lump in his throat.

You looked up toward the bedrooms. "Is he..."

Timothée shook his head. "No, uh, he's not here. I called 9-1-1, just in case, but he was gone. The funeral home where he had already made arrangements picked him up. [Y/N], he looked so...peaceful. I hadn't seem him not in pain in years. H-he got his w-wish to die at home in his sleep." His face contorted as he was riddled with sobs once more. You pulled his head to your chest and rubbed soothing circles on his back. Once he calmed back down to an all but catatonic state, you laid his head back down on the armrest and stepped away to call your mother to ask her to pick up Madison from school.

"You should go get Madison," he stated plainly when you returned.

"My mom can go pick her up. I am not leaving you here alone, love."

"Alone," he repeated with a slightly terrified and downcast look.

"Hey now," you responded in a soothing tone as you sank back down to your knees. "Even in the moments when you may be physically by yourself, you are not alone, Timothée Hal Chalamet." You made sure his eyes connected with yours before you continued. "You're stuck with me, remember? You have people who love you and will help you through this." You kissed his forehead before he pushed himself upright into a seated position.

"Thank you," Timothée replied solemnly, almost too quietly for you to even hear.

"I can either stay here tonight, or you can come to our place. Mom already offered."

He nodded, contemplating the options. "I don't want to be here right now, but I'm also not quite ready to leave yet, either."

"I understand. Take your time." You stood and squeezed his shoulder as you walked by to the kitchen. Doing the dishes and taking out the trash seemed like a helpful way to keep yourself occupied while he mentally prepared for next steps. After a while, he joined you in the kitchen. He hugged you from behind and rested his chin on your shoulder as you dried the last of the plates.

"Thank you for dropping everything for me."

You leaned your ahead away from his slightly so you could turn your neck to look at him. "It was an easy decision. You needed me. I am here."

"Dad likes...liked...you a lot, you know." You turned your body all the way around to look at Timothée, though you struggled to hide your tears. "And he was absolutely besotted with Madison. Thank you for all the times you brought her over here for dinner. He enjoyed spending time with both of you. I think...I think he even thought of her as a grandchild by the end." You gave him a warm half-smile and nodded in agreement. "Can we go see her now? It's Tuesday."

You looked at your watch. "She should be home now." You walked with Timothée to his house so he could grab some clothes. He usually wanted to take his truck when the two of you went anywhere, but he relented to letting you drive your car this time.

As expected, your mother was already back from the school. She met the two of you on the porch and embraced Timothée. "I'm so sorry, dear."

"Thank you, Mrs. [L/N]." He heard the screen door shut and looked up to see Madison standing by the porch swing, rubbing one arm with the opposite hand nervously. His face softened as he knelt down and held a hand out to her. Madison stepped forward and took it into her own.

"Hey, kiddo. I'm sorry that we can't go out like normal tonight."

"It's okay," the girl practically whispered. "Nana told me what happened." Her face crumpled as she started to cry. You stepped forward instinctually to comfort your daughter, but instead, she threw her arms around Timothée's neck. He quickly wrapped his arms around her in return. He looked up at you with fat tears welling in the corners of his eyes as he was overcome by a mix of emotions.

You placed a hand over your mouth to hold back your own surge of sobs at the display between your two loves. Your mother stepped to your side and draped her arm around your shoulders. Madison had not yet had to face the pain of losing a grandparent, and while he wasn't one by blood, she had grown close to Mr. Chalamet. This was a hurt you could not shield her from.

Madison pulled away, wiping her nose on her sleeve. "I'm sorry. I got your shoulder wet."

Timothée's lip trembled. "Never apologize for tears, okay?" He cupped her small cheek in his hand and wiped a fresh tear away with his thumb. He pulled her in for another hug, this time for his own comfort.

<><><><><>

The funeral was held a few days later. Timothée walked into your living room in his black suit. Under other circumstances, you would have commented on how handsome he looked. Instead, you stood and straightened his tie. He grabbed your hand and pressed it against his chest.

"Please sit with me when we get there," he said softly. "Both of you."

You nodded. "I will, but I will give Madison a choice. This is the first funeral she has ever attended. Let me go talk to her."

You found her sitting outside on the porch swing in her black dress. "Hey, sweetheart. You doing okay?" you asked as you sat beside her. She just nodded. "Timothée asked us to sit with him at the funeral. He is going to sit on the front row, which is usually where immediate family sits. I want to give you a choice. There are going to be a lot of big emotions in the room."

"I want to be with Timothée. He needs us," she stated like it was the obvious - and only - option.

You kissed her forehead and pulled her to you. "My sweet girl. So selfless. If at any point you get too overwhelmed, you can go find Nana and Pawpaw. Okay?"

<><><><><>

It was a beautiful celebration of life. The townspeople showed up en masse to pay their respects at both the funeral home and graveside service. Madison was a trooper and stayed by Timothée's side the entire time until everyone else had left the cemetery.

You pulled Madison aside and started toward the truck to give Timothée a moment of privacy before the casket was lowered. She followed you hesitantly but lost her will to comply when she heard him start crying. She spun and ran back to him, gingerly slipping her hand into his as they both faced the casket. He looked down, first at their clasped hands and then at Madison's face.

"I didn't want you to be alone."

Tears spilled out of Timothée's eyes as he smiled. "Thanks, kiddo." He dipped down and picked her up for a hug. She clung to him like a baby koala. He stood like that for a moment, staring at his father's coffin over his almost-daughter's shoulder, silently thanking him for showing him how to be a good dad.

<><><><><>

Chapter 12

Masterlist

Tag List:

@croatianprincess

@bluizh

@jindongdongie

@groovyqueer

[ringanon]

Phone Call | Auston Matthews

Pairing: Auston Matthews x gn!reader

Warning(s): none

Word Count: 680

Summary: You call your boyfriend, Auston, before Game 6 of the 1st Round (2023)

---------------------------------------------------

"Hi, baby!" He had only been gone for a day, but you were still happy for the chance to talk to him. You set up the camera on your kitchen island, sitting on one of the bar stools.

"Hey, mi amor, we're about to head out, but I wanted to call you first." Auston's voice came over as somber: he was focused. There was intent in his voice. He set up his phone against the bed side table in the hotel room, grabbing the office chair behind him.

"Are we doing fit checks?" It had been a tradition of yours for every away game. Now that they were in the playoffs, it was crucial. He liked seeing you all pretty, you liked seeing him in formal attire.

"Obviously, whatchu rockin'?" He leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows against his knees.

"So we went with something a little calmer today. A couple of the girls are coming over here, we're gonna crack open a bottle or two of wine and watch the game. The jersey is a one-of-a-kind game worn jersey given to me by a player of the Toronto Maple Leafs. I think his name is Auston? He spells it with an O, not an I, tryna be different, or something.

The jeans are a light-wash Lee's that I thrifted from my hometown. I am not wearing shoes since I will be inside, but in case I do need to go out, I will be rocking my blue and white Air Forces that I got custom-made." Auston tilted his head, not quite sure which ones you were talking about. You dipped out of camera and picked them up from underneath the island. You had commissioned casual shoes to wear for games and events from a guy you saw on tik tok. Auston had only seen them a handful of times.

"Ah, I forgot about those ones. Looking good."

"What are we working with?

"I ended up deciding on the tan one."

"Oh come on! I expect a presentation! Some Pizzazz please, Matthews!"

"Fine! God! The jacket and trousers are the Lardini suit from Farfetch, shirt is from Men's Wearhouse, and the shoes are white Air Forces."

"That's better, we'll work on it."

He laughed, "are you watching the game tonight?"

"Do you listen to these presentations or do you just stare at my ass the whole time? A couple of the girls are coming over to watch, I got a whole spread, do you wanna see?"

"I would love to see the fruits of your labor, sweetheart."

You grabbed your phone from the island and stood up. Flipping the camera around, you walked around to the other side of the kitchen, "I wanted it to be mostly snack stuff, but I think Steph and Aryne will be here early, so I wanted actual food-food, but nothing too insane. We popped out with sliders- ham and cheese, and then I made a couple vegetarian ones. I also made a salad, nothing too insane, just Romane, crutons, cheese, and a vinnagrette that I made, and some chicken on the side that I chopped up."

"Oo bougie."

"I try, thank you. Next, we got a little grazing board thing. Most of this side is all white wine pairings and this side is red wine pairings, because I'm a good host who cares about her guests."

"Is that a dig?"

"Just a little. We got shrimp with cocktail sauce, and this is the spinach dip my mom used to make all the time."

"How long did it take you to prep the shrimp?" You turned the camera around to face you again.

"So long, you know I'm picky about them."

The door in Auston's room opened, "hey man, you ready to go?"

"Yeah, give me one second," He sighed, "alright, sweetheart, I gotta go. I'll talk to you after the game?"

"Go win a series for me."

"I'll try, let me know how your food goes over."

"I will, I love you."

"I love you more."

"That's impossible."

-💍

I'm clearing out the notes app. Can y'all tell? This one's short and sweet, though