#i still love this game with my entire heart
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This was wonderfully requested by my beloved @madam8 who gave me such a beautiful idea for a sylus date and I couldn't let go of it until I completed it 😭😭🩷🩷 like it's so cute that even when I was studying I kept thinking of new ways to end the fic or new scenes to add into it. --- it was ...AAUGH- my heart ...tho I do apologize for how long this one took out ur girl was busy trying not to fail classes 💀💀 ...lol 💅🏻
p.s if you see my corpse surrounded by flowers anywhere you can blame it on this ask ✨️ I LOVE IT
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It started, as most things with Sylus did, with...
extravagance.
He had a habit of planning nights that felt more like events—private rooftops overlooking the shimmering city skyline, candlelit dinners in places that required reservations months in advance, evenings where the very sky seemed to bend to his will.
Luxurious. Impeccable. Always grand.
And while you loved those moments—loved him—there was something else you had been craving lately.
Something... simpler.
So one evening, as he idly twirled a glass of dark liquor between his fingers and casually mentioned taking you to a private villa on an island, you leaned into his space, resting your chin on your palm, and asked—
"Why don’t we do something more…plain? Just for the day—I mean."
Sylus stilled slightly, red eyes flickering toward you, waiting.
"Don’t get me wrong, I love our dates," you continued, "but I think it’d be nice to just do something fun. Silly, even. Maybe a little childish?"
A playful smile curled at your lips.
"Just… something where you don’t have to rent out an entire skyline to impress me."
He raised a brow, surprised. "You wish for something plain?"
You grinned. "Exactly. So let’s just have a normal date. Like—oh! What about an amusement park? Or an arcade? Or the fair!"
Sylus exhaled through his nose, setting his glass down with a measured movement. "Your ideas are enjoyable… I wouldn't mind indulging in them."
"Yeah! It’ll be fun, I promise. We can see what rides you like, if you’ll actually tolerate roller coasters, or if you’re one of those people who insists they’re too predictable." You smirked. "Oh, and you have to try winning me something from one of those carnival games."
He regarded you with that ever-neutral gaze, quiet and considering, before finally murmuring—
"For you, I wouldn’t mind fulfilling that request."
You smiled, pressing a playful kiss to his cheek, already excited for whatever simple, carefree date he would plan.
Or so you thought.
Because somehow—somehow—things escalated.
Instead of just buying tickets like a normal person, Sylus had decided the best course of action was to…
Buy. The. Entire. Damn. Park.
Your favorite amusement park, to be exact.
And now here you stood at the entrance, staring up at the massive sign that should have been buzzing with families, groups of friends, and screaming children running past in excitement.
Instead, it was silent.
The ticket booths? Closed. The parking lot? Void of life.
The only people here were you, Sylus, and the staff, who stood patiently, waiting only for the two of you.
You turned to him slowly, your brain still buffering.
"Sylus… I—when I said I wanted a fun day with you… this isn’t exactly what I had in mind."
Sylus, as usual, looked completely unbothered. "Did I get the wrong park?"
You blinked. "…No, but—Sylus, what—" You gestured at the empty surroundings, struggling to form a coherent thought. "You didn’t have to—How did you even do this?"
He tilted his head, as if you had asked a genuinely confusing question. "I bought it."
You took a deep breath. "No, I know that, but why?"
Sylus blinked at you, expression calm yet calculating, like he was trying to gauge whether you were actually upset.
"Would you prefer a different one? I can acquire another if this one isn’t to your liking."
You choked. "Acquire—Sylus, I meant let’s just have a normal day at the park! With other people! Like… buying tickets, not—not monopolizing an entire amusement park for us!"
He hummed thoughtfully. "That would be inconvenient. I don’t like crowds."
Your brain short-circuited. "Okay, fair, but I’m not even sure how to react to this." You ran a hand down your face, staring at the vast, empty park. "Do I just… accept this? Should I ask you to sell it back? Is it even going to open to normal people when we're not here?"
Sylus exhaled softly, fingers curling beneath your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze. His red eyes, sharp yet steady, held an intensity that made your breath hitch.
"I wanted you to have the best experience," he murmured, his voice low, deliberate—like he was peeling back the layers of his thoughts just for you. "No interruptions. No strangers ruining our time. No one else pulling your attention away."
His thumb ghosted along your jaw, his touch as careful as it was possessive.
"I wanted today to be ours. Every moment, every ride, every second—only for us."
Your heart squeezed at the weight of his words.
Sylus was always confident, always in control—but this was different. This wasn’t about power or extravagance.
This was about ...you.
He had done this for you.
Damn him.
Damn him and his ability to turn something so ridiculous into something that made your heart melt.
You sighed, pressing your fingers against your temples before looking up at him again. "You really don’t do things halfway, huh?"
His lips twitched, almost smirking. "Would you expect anything less?"
You huffed, shaking your head. "Not at all."
His hand slipped from your chin to your wrist, fingers curling around it as he tugged you toward the entrance.
"Then let’s stop worrying about it and enjoy it as much as we can."
You let him pull you forward, your brain still catching up to the fact that this was happening. That you were about to experience an amusement park that was literally all yours for the day.
And honestly?
You weren’t going to complain.
But as you walked in, something felt... strange.
The park was…alive?
Despite the complete absence of other guests, the workers were still here—acting as if today was a completely normal day.
Vendors stood at their booths, flipping burgers, making cotton candy, lining up pretzels under warming lamps. The game stalls were manned, workers casually leaning against counters, ready to hand out prizes.
The park’s parade performers were still marching down the street. A princess in a poofy dress waved at you. Mascot characters moved in synchronized greetings, despite the fact that no one was here but you.
It was… surreal.
Sylus squeezed your hand as you slowed to take it all in. "I told them to proceed as usual. It would’ve been eerie if everything was frozen."
You turned to him. "So… it’s like the park is still running, but we’re the only ones who get to experience it?"
He nodded. "Yes. Don’t you think it’s better this way?"
You inhaled deeply, looking around again.
Sylus watched you carefully, his sharp eyes scanning your face. "Are you alright?"
You hesitated, then let out a quiet laugh.
“Of course! I mean—” You hesitated again, glancing around as your expression softened. “It’s nothing wrong, I promise! I love that you did this, I do, but…” You exhaled, running a hand through your hair before looking up at him again.
“I just—I wanted this day to be special not just for us entirely, but to have a moment together surrounded by everyone and everything.” Your voice was gentle, thoughtful. “The chatter, the energy, the crowds moving past us. The chaos of it all.”
You shrugged, a little sheepish. “I know you don’t like being around too many people, and I love that you wanted to make this day perfect for me, but part of what makes an amusement park so special is the shared experience, y’know? That feeling of being one in a sea of people, laughing together, screaming on rides, getting bumped into by kids running past, standing too close in lines because there's no choice…”
Your words trailed off as you searched his gaze, unsure how he’d react.
For a moment, Sylus didn’t say anything. His red eyes remained locked onto yours, unreadable, but there was something contemplative in the way his fingers idly traced over your knuckles, as if considering your words carefully.
Then, finally, he exhaled through his nose—slow and measured, his grip loosening ever so slightly.
“…I see...I- ” His voice was as calm as ever, but there was a shift in his tone.
He glanced around, taking in the completely empty pathways, the stalls with no customers, the parade performing for no one but you two. The sight of the workers, stationed and waiting, but missing the usual life of the park.
Sylus was pragmatic. He saw a problem, he solved it. Simple. To him, the best way to ensure you had an amazing day was to remove all obstacles—the crowds, the noise, the inconvenience of waiting in lines or dealing with other people.
But now, as he watched you, something seemed to click.
“…Would you like me to open the park?”
Your eyes widened. “Wait—you mean, like, right now?”
He nodded once. “If it would make you happy.”
Your heart stuttered. "Sylus—I didn’t say all that just to guilt you into—”
He raised a brow. “It’s not about guilt. You wanted to share this moment with people and I took that possibility from you” He pulled out his phone as if he could undo an entire park shutdown with a single call—which, knowing him, he probably could.
You stared at him, then let out a disbelieving laugh, reaching to stop his hand before he could dial. “Okay, hold on, let’s think about this rationally—”
Sylus merely looked at you, waiting for what you were bound to say next.
You exhaled, lacing your fingers with his properly. “Look, it’s okay. I love what you did, and I will enjoy this day with you.” You squeezed his hand. “I just needed a moment to process it, that’s all.”
Sylus was silent for a moment, his red eyes scanning your face as if committing every little twitch of emotion to memory. Then, his gaze flickered past you, landing on a nearby booth.
A teddy bear stand.
Without a word, he turned, gently tugging you along by the hand.
You blinked in surprise. “Wait—where are we—?”
He stopped in front of the booth, staring at the rows of stuffed bears lined up in varying sizes, from tiny keychains to ones nearly as tall as you. His jaw was set, unreadable, but his grip around your hand was firm.
“Sylus?” You tilted your head at him, watching as he eyed the game—a classic ring toss setup.
“I failed to give you what you really wanted,” he murmured, almost to himself. “You should at least receive something in return.”
Your chest tightened at the way he said it.
Soft, but laced with frustration.
Like he was genuinely bothered that his attempt to make you happy had missed the mark.
“Sylus…” You squeezed his hand, stepping closer. “You don’t have to win me anything—”
He ignored that, already rolling up his sleeves with practiced ease. His focus was entirely on the game now, eyes narrowing slightly as he studied the distance, the weight of the rings stacked beside the booth’s attendant.
Your lips parted in disbelief.
Sylus said nothing, simply holding his hand out for the rings. The worker—completely unphased, as if watching an overpowered, absurdly rich man win rigged carnival games was just another part of the job—wordlessly handed them over.
You sighed, a smile tugging at your lips despite yourself. "Sylus, you really don’t have to—”
The first ring landed perfectly on the bottle.
Your mouth snapped shut.
Another.
And another.
Without missing a single shot.
The worker gave a small, almost-impressed nod. “Pick your prize.”
Sylus turned to you, expectant.
You stared between him and the game, caught between laughter and disbelief. “This your way of an apology gift?
“And would that change anything if I said yes?”
“Sylus –”
You huffed, shaking your head before pointing to one of the bigger teddy bears—one with a white soft, plush face and an oversized red ribbon around its neck.
Sylus retrieved it without hesitation, turning to face you fully as he held it out.
“ you sure you didn't have me in mind? ” he said simply.
You giggled at him, your fingers curling around the soft fabric as you accepted the gift. “mayyybee”
It wasn’t about the bear. It wasn’t about the game.
It was him.
Sylus, who never half-assed anything. Who overthought in ways you weren’t always aware of. Who, despite his arrogance, still hated feeling like he had let you down.
Your heart squeezed painfully.
“…You’re too much at times” you murmured, hugging the teddy bear to your chest.
He exhaled, shaking his head. “Says the one getting emotional over a stuffed animal.”
You shot him a playful glare, but when he reached out, brushing his fingers against your wrist, you softened.
“....Still,Thank you, for everything-- I mean” you murmured.
Sylus didn’t say anything, but his grip lingered—just for a second—not thinking of letting you go.
But as you continued walking, you caught the way his fingers brushed against his phone once more, a brief flicker of thought crossing his expression.
You narrowed your eyes. “Sylus.”
“Hm?”
“You’re not secretly opening the park back up again ….behind my back…are you?”
His lips curled, amused. “...perhaps”
#suiwrites🍒#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#sylus x mc#sylus x you#sylus x y/n#lads x reader#lnds x reader#l&ds x reader#lads x you#lads x mc#lads sylus#lnds sylus#lads sylus x reader#lnds sylus x reader#l&ds sylus x reader
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Take Care of You | F.W
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Pairing: Fred Weasley x reader
Summary: you wake up realising you’ve stained your boyfriend’s bed with period blood, and you feel terrible. later, while playing a friendly quidditch game, you get deadly cramps again and fred takes care of you for the rest of the day.
Warnings/content: reader gets her period, mentions of blood, pimples (lmao), insecure!reader, period cramps, fluff, fred weasley is THE standard :,), molly and arthur being the sweetest gems
———
The Burrow was quiet in the early morning, the golden glow of the sun barely peeking through the curtains of Fred's bedroom. The soft rise and fall of his breathing filled the room, his arms wrapped securely around you as you lay nestled against him. His warmth, his scent—fresh, like cinnamon and a hint of something mischievously sweet—made you want to stay here forever.
However, during this particular morning, something felt...off.
You shifted slightly, your brows knitting as you became aware of a slight discomfort in your lower abdomen. Your face scrunched up in confusion, and as you moved your hand to touch your face, you felt a few bumps along your skin—pimples, no doubt. Great. Just what you needed.
Then, you felt it. The damp warmth between your legs. A sinking feeling settled in your stomach. Panic shot through you as you carefully lifted the covers, heart pounding as you caught sight of the undeniable red stain on Fred’s bedsheets.
Oh no.
Your breath hitched, eyes widening in sheer mortification. Not only had you woken up to pimples, but you had gotten your period in your boyfriend’s bed.
Your boyfriend’s bed. Sure, if it was your own bed, you didn't mind, as it would be your problem to deal with. This, however, was an entirely different case. Godric, you wanted to hide, to run away, to retreat into your shell.
The urge to disappear entirely took over as your face burned with embarrassment. What were you supposed to do? Wake him up and tell him you’d basically bled all over his sheets? You felt a lump in your throat and your vision became teary. Especially with pimples all over your face now, what would Fred think? Would he get grossed out, horrified, disgusted?
Maybe if you were really quiet, you could sneak out and fix it before he even noticed—
Time seemed to slip from your hands when all the shifting you did stirred Fred from his sleep. Shit, it was too late to move.
He groaned softly before his arms instinctively tightened around your waist, pulling you back against him with a lazy smile.
“Morning, gorgeous,” he mumbled, voice thick with sleep. He pressed a sleepy kiss to your cheek before pausing, sensing the tension in your body. His brows furrowed, and he blinked, still groggy. “You alright, darling? You seem a little tense.”
You buried your face in your hands, groaning. “Fred, I—” Your voice was small, laced with hesitation. You inhaled deeply before revealing your dilemma, “I got my period.”
Fred blinked, confused for a second, before his lips curled into a small, lopsided smile. “Alright, love, no need to sound so distressed about it.”
You groaned again, this time with frustration. “No, you don’t understand,” you mumbled. “I stained your bed.”
With a deep breath, you lifted up the duvet and hesitantly pointed at the small red patch on the sheets. You felt your heart hammering in your chest as you dared to glance at his face, bracing yourself for—well, you didn’t know what exactly. Disgust? Annoyance? Irritation? But instead, all you found was Fred sitting up, stretching before looking at the stain with mild curiosity, then back at you with a soft chuckle.
“Is that all?” he said, completely unfazed. “Thought you were gonna tell me you’d hexed my eyebrows off in my sleep or something.”
You stared at him, dumbfounded. “Fred, I just bled on your bed,” you repeated, incredulous. “How are you this calm?”
"I just got my period...and I'm breaking out all over my face, I feel like a mess right now, I—" You continued rambling, all your worries spilling out at once.
He rolled his eyes fondly and pulled you into a warm hug, his chin resting on the top of your head. “Shh, shh, shh, it’s okay, love,” he murmured, rubbing soothing circles on your back. “It’s normal, yeah? Not like you did it on purpose.” He pulled back slightly, his hands gently cupping your face. “My poor baby, let me take care of you.”
Your heart melted at his words, but you still couldn’t shake off the embarrassment. “But your sheets—”
“Easily cleaned,” he interrupted, waving a hand like it was nothing. “Mum’s got stain removers, no big deal. What is a big deal, though, is that you’re clearly not feeling great.” His hands dropped to your waist, tugging you close again. “And my girl needs to be taken care of.”
You opened your mouth to protest, but before you could, Fred was already hopping out of bed. “I’ll be right back,” he said, tossing on a shirt. “You go to the bathroom, get cleaned up. I’ll sort everything else out.”
Still in a daze from his reaction, you hesitated before nodding. You slipped into the bathroom, heart still pounding as you peeled off your clothes, carefully cleaning yourself up. A few moments later, there was a soft knock at the door.
“Here, I’ve got some pads for you,” Fred called from the other side.
You cracked open the door, peeking out to see him holding a small stack of pads in his hands, a sheepish yet triumphant grin on his face.
“Ginny might have thrown something at me when I woke her up to ask, but worth it,” he teased, handing them to you.
You laughed, shaking your head. “Thank you, handsome.”
“For a pretty girl like you, anytime.” He kissed your forehead gently before stepping back. “Take all the time you need, I’ll be waiting for you.”
Once you were done, you returned to Fred’s room to find the bed already spotless, the stain completely gone. He grinned when he saw you. “Told you I’d sort it.”
You launched yourself at him, hugging him tightly. “Ugh Fred, you’re too good at this.”
“I know,” he said smugly, earning a light smack on the arm. He chuckled before pressing another soft kiss to your forehead. “Now, let’s get some breakfast in you, yeah?” There was something comforting about his kisses, every time he planted one on you, it felt as though everything was going to be alright.
Downstairs, the Burrow was already lively with chatter. Molly beamed as she hugged you good morning before returning to cooking, and Arthur greeted you warmly.
"Ah come join us, you lovebirds." Arthur teased, Fred's ears turning a light shade of red in response.
"What took you guys so long today? Busy eh?" Ron teased, wiggling his brows before taking a bite of his toast.
"Shove off, what's the point in rushing downstairs? Not like we've got somewhere to be." Fred retorted, a bit more harshly than he had intended.
Ginny shot you two a knowing look, giving you a sympathetic smile, "You won't understand the pressures of being a woman Ron, takes a lot to look this good every day." She joked, though laced with a comforting undertone, indirectly defending you. You tilted your head and smiled warmly at her, a way of showing gratitude.
"Come Y/N dear, you must be starving." Molly placed two eggs on your plate next to your toast, "Percy, pass her the butter will you."
"This looks delicious, thank you Molly!" You beamed, her food was always made with love; a mother's love, and that's what made it extra tasty.
Though you smiled, and occasionally shared quips with the others, only Fred was able to see right through you. He kept sneaking glances, his hand resting on your thigh under the table, stroking it gently.
You turned to give him a reassuring smile, but he still worried for you, wanting to ensure you felt better.
___
Later that afternoon, you and the Weasleys were playing a toned-down version of Quidditch outside the Burrow.
The sky was clear as day, the air crisp with a cool breeze occasionally blowing your hair, and laughter filled the open field as Ron, Fred, and Ginny zoomed around on their brooms, chucking the Quaffle back and forth.
Meanwhile, you, Percy, and George remained on the ground, running, dodging, and attempting to intercept the ball whenever it came your way.
At first, you kept up, laughing as George nudged you playfully and you pretended to dramatically fall or trip, making him burst into laughter.
"Woah, when did you get so strong?" Sarcasm lingered in your tone.
"Puh-lease, this is like twenty-percent of my strength. You're lucky I'm going on easy on ya." George ruffled your hair messily, it was safe to say the two of you definitely had a sibling-like relationship.
Though as the game went on, you started to slow down. The cramps you’d been trying to ignore all day crept in with full force, sharp and unbearable.
It felt like your insides were twisting, a deep ache radiating through your stomach and back, growing stronger by the minute. You bit your lip, pressing a hand to your abdomen, willing the pain away. But it was no use.
After a few more steps, you stopped completely, crouching down with a sharp inhale.
Fred, who had been mid-air, immediately noticed. He veered off from the game and swooped down toward you, concern flickering across his face. "Love? What's wrong?" he asked, his voice softer now as he handed his broom off to George, who had also stopped running and looked at you with concern.
“You alright, Y/N?” George asked, his usual teasing tone replaced with genuine worry.
You tried to wave them off, not wanting to make a fuss, but Fred wasn’t having it. He crouched beside you, his large hands gently resting on your arms as he searched your face.
"Cramps," you admitted in a whisper, wincing slightly.
Fred was up in an instant. "Alright, that’s it. You're going inside." He stood, helping you up carefully, his arm wrapping around your waist protectively. George gave you an encouraging nod before returning to the game, and as you and Fred walked toward the Burrow, you leaned into him, grateful for his warmth and steady presence.
As soon as you stepped inside, Molly turned from the stove, immediately noticing your pale face and Fred’s worried expression. "What’s wrong, dear?" she asked, wiping her hands on her apron as she approached.
“Cramps,” Fred answered before you could, his voice carrying that soft, caring edge that made your heart ache in the best way.
“Oh, sweetheart," Molly cooed. "You sit down and rest. I’ll whip up some soup and a cramp relief potion right away.”
"Thank you, Molly," you said softly, feeling a rush of gratitude for the warmth and kindness of the Weasley family.
You always secretly hoped you'd marry into the family one day, but you didn't want to admit that aloud, or pressure Fred into such things yet.
Fred led you upstairs to his room, insisting you lay down. "Rest up, yeah? I’ll be back in a bit," he murmured, pressing a kiss to your forehead before slipping out of the room.
A little while later, the door creaked open again, and Fred returned, carrying a small basket filled with chocolates, a heating pad, some of your favourite snacks, and—to your surprise—a teddy bear.
You blinked at it, smiling despite your discomfort. “A teddy?”
Fred set the basket down, and held the bear up, making its little arm wave at you. "To cuddle with."
You giggled, looking at him with awe. “Come here. I’d rather cuddle with you, baby."
He grinned before climbing into bed next to you, immediately wrapping you in his buff arms. His embrace, his scent—everything about him was comforting, you could only melt right into him.
He pressed a soft kiss to your forehead before pulling back slightly to face you. But after a moment, you grew shy, burying your face in his chest.
“Don’t look at me,” you mumbled, insecurity creeping in. “I don’t feel pretty right now.”
Fred’s brows furrowed, and he cupped your cheek, tilting your face back up to him. "Don’t you ever say that," he murmured, his gaze filled with so much love it made your heartache.
"You’re perfect. You’re gorgeous. These little things, flaws you might call them—they don’t matter. If anything, they make you even more beautiful. To me, you always look good, angel."
Tears welled in your eyes at his words, and you let out a shaky breath. “I love you, Freddie.”
His expression softened even more, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “I love you too.”
With that, he pulled you closer, your eyelids feeling heavier by the second, drifting off into a peaceful nap in his arms.
___
An hour later, Molly walked in, a tray in her hands carrying a bowl of warm soup and a small vial of cramp relief potion. But as soon as she saw the two of you curled up together, fast asleep, a tender smile spread across her face. She stood there for a moment, simply watching, before turning to call Arthur over.
Arthur peeked inside, his eyes crinkling with affection as he took in the sight. “Reminds me of us back in the day,” he murmured with a fond chuckle.
Molly playfully swatted his arm before she placed the tray on the bedside table, snapping a quick photo of you and Fred with a knowing grin. Then, hand in hand, she and Arthur quietly slipped out of the room, leaving you both to your peaceful afternoon nap.
____
A/N: currently in my luteal phase and thought a fluffy fic would be healing rn <3 lowkey feeling a smut one soon? not sure though hehehe (help I'm so indecisive 😭😩)
#fred weasley x reader#fred x reader#fred weasley imagine#george weasley x reader#harry potter#x reader#imagine#fred weasley#harry potter fanfiction#fred weasly x reader#fred weasley x you#fred#hogwarts fanfic#harry potter headcanons#weasley twins#harry potter fanfic#molly weasley#ginny weasley#ron weasley#george weasley#arthur weasley#percy weasley#hermione granger#fluff#hp fandom#harry james potter#golden trio era
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A Night Out With "Team Thanos"
Synopsis: You and your new-found friends survived the games together after X's win the majority vote. Now that your roomies, a typical weekend with the group is cheering Thanos on at his show, getting wasted, and dancing at Nam-gyu's hot-spot club.
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This is a continuation of my last team Thanos story! You can read it here (You don't need to read it to read this story, they're mainly just headcannons!)
Characters: Se-mi/player 380, Thanos/player 230, Nam-gyu/player 124, Min-su/player 125, Gyeong-su/player 256
Squid game au outside of the games, very light-hearted :) ...maybe
Reader is dating Thanos!
Warnings: drinking
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"Hell no I'm not wearing that." Se-mi immediately shuts down your suggestion as she glares at the short black dress you picked out for her. "But you'd look so hot in it!" you argue. She rolls her eyes and fidgets with her lip ring, her go-to move when contemplating something. "Babe!" You hear Thanos shout from the bathroom. You throw the black dress at Se-mi and rush over to him.
Thanos is standing in front of the mirror looking defeated. "How the fuck do you get these to stick up?" Thanos gestures at his short pieces of hair on the sides of his head cut to look like horns. They sadly droop sideways, sticking out horizontally. You burst out a giggle, "Hey don't laugh! We have to go and I look stupid." He pouts. You compose yourself and grab the hair gel on the counter, "I'm sorry baby I'm sorry" You say, still holding in laughter. You stand on the tips of your toes to get a good angle on his head as he looms over you. You rub the gel into your fingers and run them through his purple strands of hair, pointing them upward and slightly curling them so they stay up just how he likes them. "There you go." You smile at Thanos, admiring how damn good he looks. You set the gel back down on the counter, Thanos's eyes locked on you. He grabs your wrist and pulls you back toward him. He places his other hand on your waist, moving it down to your ass as he pulls you into a deep, prolonged kiss. It was his way of saying thank you, and god you liked that so much more then the words.
"You're gonna be late to your own damn show if you don't hurry." Se-mi interrupts standing at the doorway with Min-su and Gyeong-su next to her. She's wearing the dress you gave her, her arms crossed uncomfortably. "Yo, Thanos looking fly my bro!" Gyeong-su excitedly shouts, doing little finger horns above his head. Thanos grins and dabs Gyeong-su up, before shouting "LET'S GOOO!" as he jumps through the living room toward the front door. You smile at Se-mi, "Look at youuu!" you tease. She chuckles and playfully nudges you, "Shut up." You turn back toward Min-su, asking, "What do you think?" Min-su shyly smiles and looks at the ground. "She looks good.."
Thanos dabs up the bouncer as you and the group walk into the club, his arm draped around your shoulder. Nam-gyu spots you guys and marches over to Thanos, "There you are! Fuck, dude you were almost late again." Thanos grins, "Chill bro, the fans love me they don't mind waiting." Thanos turns to you and dramatically kisses the top of your head, "See you on stage, senõrita!' He skips away and Nam-gyu angrily speeds up to catch up with him.
Thanos's presence takes over the entire club, everyone was chanting and jumping up and down to each song. After the games, Thanos used his money to up the production of his music and found his footing again as a rapper. His success skyrocketed, giving his career a second life. He honestly didn't need to play at a club, but he enjoys the personality of a local crowd and likes bringing attention to Nam-gyu's work. You and Gyeong-su are jumping up and down, rapping Thanos's lyrics at each other. Gyeong-su had been to so many of his concerts before the games he was better at keeping up, which you were slightly jealous of. He always teased you about being a bigger fan. Se-mi swayed and sipped on her drink as Nam-gyu was forcefully gripping Min-su's shoulders from behind and shaking him to the song.
Thanos blew the crowd an animated kiss and ran backstage, immediately swallowing you with a big hug. He peppered your face in kisses, the adrenaline of performing still pumping through his body. He would always say his two favorite drugs were you and the stage. Gyeong-su ran up to you guys, drunkenly bouncing up and down "BRO THAT WAS FUCKING WILD! YOU WERE A BEAST UP THERE!"
"SHOTS FOR THE V.I.PS!" The bartender poured up two shots for each of you, everyone clinked glasses and threw them back. Min-su always coughed and gagged after each one, and Nam-gyu always gave him a hard time for it. Nights like these made everyone forget the games ever existed. You guys weren't drinking to forget, you were all just friends, making memories to help combat the brutality you collectively witnessed. It's what made you guys so close. The tension between the group in the games quickly decimated once you guys made it out and agreed to stick together. You were feeling the looseness and euphoria the alcohol gave you, Gyeong-su darted toward the dance floor as one of his favorite rap songs started playing. Se-mi, Nam-gyu and Min-su followed. Thanos stood up, "Come on senõrita let's dance!" He shouted. You giggled, "Okay, okay hang on!" You quickly grab what's left of your drink and down it. You turn toward the bar top to set it back down, and your heart drops at the sight of something you swear wasn't there a second ago. A brown paper business card laid flat on the counter. Sharp, agonizing memories flood back to you. It was exactly how you remembered it, despite you trying so hard to forget all of it. You pick it up with shaky hands. A circle, a triangle, and a square decorated the top. How the fuck was this possible? You turn it over, reading the familiar digits. "456-034"
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I saw a couple people asking for more so heres a part two :)) Sorry this ones kinda short. I love writing for team Thanos so much let me know what you think!!
#choi subong#player 230#squid game 230#squid game#squid game thanos#thanos#thanos squid game#player 230 squid game#choi subong x reader#squid game player 230#squid game thanos x reader#team thanos#thanos squid game fanfic#thanos squid game x reader#thanos x reader#thanos x y/n#namgyu squid game#choi su bong#nam gyu#choi su bong x reader#player 230 thanos#player 124#thanos player 230#player 230 x reader#player 230 fluff#nam gyu squid game#player 125#min su squid game#park min su#min su
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i would love to see 1000 secrets with barty crouch or regulus 😏
combining this with another reg request!! I have one coming for Barty soon too dw 🫶
1000 secret kisses | R.B.
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cw: MDNI 18+, smut mentioned, secret relationships, fwb, drinking
1000 things prompt list (closed!) | masterlist
Alright, Barty. Truth, dare, or shot,” Dorcas said, still coughing after the gulp of firewhisky she just took.
“Truth,” Barty replied.
“What's your most controversial opinion about someone in the group?” Dorcas challenged, and everyone ooooh’d.
Barty took a contemplative drag of his joint, then—“I would bet my left nut that Regulus is a virgin,” Barty said through a cloud of smoke.
“No way, look at him!” Pandora argued. “He fucks, guarantee it.”
The groups heads swiveled to Regulus, who was reclined lazily in arm chair, knees spread, a cigarette dangling from his fingertips. He looked supremely fuckable to you, like he always did.
That's why you've been secret friends with benefits for most of the school year.
You and Regulus were an unlikely pair; Reg, a certified grouch with a distaste for socializing, and you, a gifted student and natural flirt. But you found him fascinating, deeply intelligent and perceptive, with an artistic heart, even if he preferred not to show it. And he found you endearing, infectious in your enthusiasm.
You'd kissed him after a drunken night in Hogsmeade, and he'd sought you out the following day in the library. Now, you snuck away every chance you got, stealing secret moments around every corner, in every classroom, praying your friends never discovered the truth, lest you never hear the end of it.
This was just for the two of you, and you preferred it that way.
“I'm not saying he isn't sexy!” Barty argued. “I'm saying he couldn't be bothered to fuck someone, too busy reading poetry and glaring.”
“And you expect me to, what? Fuck everything with legs like you, Junior?” Regulus bit back.
“No, but like—I’ve never even seen you glance at someone,” Evan chimed in. “You've never talked about fancying someone, or gotten flustered.”
Regulus raised an eyebrow, but didn't comment.
“Nothing shakes him, and he'd never tell you half-wits if he fancied someone because you can't keep your mouths shut,” Xeno laughed.
“It's not like it's anyone's business anyways,” you added, stealing the joint from Barty and taking a puff. “It's his business who he does, or doesn't, fuck.”
“Oh, come off it. He hasn't even had a crush on you, and we've all had a crush on you,” Barty said.
You nearly choked on your hit. “You're full of shit, Junior.”
“It's true! We talked about it the other day!”
You risked a glance at Regulus while you fanned the smoke from around your face, and found him glaring down at his lap, his expression was calm, but you'd long ago learned to judge his true feelings by his pale eyes. And right now, the hostility in them could raze the castle.
That must have been the day he abruptly dragged you from your dorm and into an empty classroom. He toyed with you until you cried, begging him to get you off. And when he finally let you ride him, you weren't allowed to come until you told him exactly who you belonged to. Making you spell out his entire name, letter by letter, thrust by thrust.
Regulus Arcturus Black.
Your pussy shivered just thinking about it.
“Can we get on with the game, please?” Pandora huffed. “It's y/n’s turn.”
Barry grinned over at you, and you groaned. Why on Salazar's shitty earth did you think it was a good idea to sit next to him?
“Truth, dare, or shot, my darling?” Barty asked, his voice a seductive purr.
You really didn't want to take a shot of that lukewarm swill, and you had a hunch of what Barty's question would be: do you fancy any of us? Leaving you with one option.
“Dare.”
Barty’s eyes lit up, and he rubbed his hands together like a supervillain. “You've made a grave error, my dearest y/n.”
“Don't be an ass, Crouch. Play fair,” Regulus warned, the edge of his voice sharper than was probably necessary.
“Oh, you'll like this Reggie, don't worry.” Barty presented his palms to you, like he was offering a gift. “Treasure, I dare you to make Regulus blush.”
“That's not fair!” Pandora argued. “How is she supposed to do that?”
“By any means necessary.” Barty grinned.
You looked at Regulus, who was already looking at you. “I don't want to cross any lines—”
“And when she fails?” Regulus asked, a hint of a smirk on his pretty mouth. Baiting you.
“Then she takes two shots,” Barty wagered.
You looked back and forth between them, all eyes on you. “Deal,” you said, pushing to your feet.
Regulus' eyes widened a fraction, like he didn't expect you to actually go for it, but he vastly underestimated your pettiness. And you would love nothing more than to be the thing that made Regulus finally crack in front of his friends. A tiny consultation for months of keeping secrets.
You sashayed over to him, ignoring the whistles and shouts from your friends, focused entirely on Regulus' smug face. His eyes roamed over you, lingering at the edge of your skirt, the sway of your hips, and you caught the unmistakable sign of his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat, and his arrogant expression faltered.
Already, you were making him sweat.
You knew none of your regular tricks would work on him, he was impervious to flirting, but you had an ace up your sleeve.
Carefully, you perched on the arm of his chair, being mindful to not actually touch him, knowing it would bother him to have you so close without being able to touch. He shifted a little in his seat, a fraction closer to you, fingers tightening on his cigarette.
You took a pull from the joint, filling your lungs with its acrid burn. You looked at Regulus expectantly, and he smirked before tilting his head back for you. You leaned in and he parted his lips, letting you blow the smoke into his mouth.
Your friends continued to whoop and cheer, but you focused on Regulus' proximity, the hazy feeling coarsing through your blood.
Merlin, you wanted to kiss him.
Instead, when the last of the smoke left your lungs and entered his, you shifted to whisper in his ear. “Took that hit so well, sweet boy,” you purred, letting your lips brush the shell of his ear.
You felt his body hitch, wanting to cough up the smoke, but he managed to blow it out of the corner of his mouth, casting you vicious side eye. To your delight, you noticed a delicate pink stain was crawling up his neck, warming the tops of his cheekbones.
“She did it!” Evan cheered, and the rest of the group roared in approval.
“Brat,” he grumbled, rolling his eyes. You knew you'd be paying for it later, but it was so worth it to know you had an affect on him no one else did.
You sauntered back over to your seat, smiling ear to ear and basking in the groups praise.
Regulus tried to play it off, but there was no going back now. And you knew he was in trouble when it was finally his turn.
“Alright, Reggie,” Pandora said. “Truth, dare, or shot.”
You already knew what he would pick: Reg hated booze, and would rather run around the common room naked than fess up to something.
“Dare,” he said, taking a bold glance at you.
Pandora caught it, of course, and a tendril of uncertainty coiled in your stomach.
“I dare you to make y/n blush back.”
Regulus huffed a low laugh. “Come on, Dora. Give me a challenge.”
You glared at him, and he winked back. Maybe it was the weed, or his competitive nature, but you'd never seen him so brazen.
Everyone ooooh’d.
“Fine, I dare you to kiss one person in the circle!”
Your heart sunk. Even if it was platonic, a stupid dare, you didn't particularly want to see Regulus kiss someone else. Your feelings for Regulus has grown over the course of the your secret relationship, and while neither of you were ready for labels, that didn't mean you wanted to share him, or vice versa if the night in the classroom was any indication.
Regulus narrowed his eyes at her. “Not everyone consents to being kissed by me.”
“I consent!” They all chorused, and you inwardly groaned.
“What? You've never fucked and you've never kissed someone?” Barty teased, ramping up the pressure.
“Fuck off, Crouch,” Regulus hissed. The game was getting to him, and your friends were feasting on his rare display of discomfort.
You'd feel bad for him if you weren't feeling so sorry for yourself. Reg would probably kiss Barty just to shut him up, and then storm off to bed. Leaving you to decipher his words and actions like every night spent without him there to prove his affection with his hands and mouth.
Shit, maybe this arrangement had gotten more out of control than you realized.
“How the fuck is Sirius such a lady-killer, and his little brother is the virgin fuckin’ Mary?” Barty was too busy laughing at his own jokes to notice Regulus get up and prowl across the circle towards him.
Barty finally noticed when Reg was almost on top of him, but at the last second, Regulus pivoted. His hand shot out to grab you by the hair, roughly tilting your head back for the bruising kiss he planted on your unsuspecting lips.
You squeaked in surprise, but quickly gave way for him, melting under his firm, insistent mouth as his tongue delved between your teeth to taste you.
As quickly as he swept in, he was gone, leaving you wide eyed and breathless as he stalked back to his seat and dropped into it, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“What was it you said? ‘Y/n has the most gorgeous mouth you'd ever seen’?” Regulus said, a mocking edge in his voice. “That you'd ‘give anything to taste her'?”
Barty gaped like a fish.
Regulus smirked. “I’ll have that left bollock now. And I'll take the other one if I hear my girl’s name on your mouth again, you prick.”
Everyone gasped, including you, but Regulus didn't even flinch.
“Understood?” He glared at Barty, then the others, until each one of them lowered their eyes in submission.
Regulus beckoned you forward with two fingers and you jumped up, crossing the space between you and allowing him to pull you into his lap. He threaded his fingers through your hair, pulling you in for another kiss, little more than a peck, but it still made your head spin.
“So, secrets out?” You asked, meeting his eyes.
Regulus shrugged, pecking your cheek. “It doesn't change anything,” he murmured, kissing the corner of your mouth. “I’m yours.” He kissed your nose, your temple, your lips, down your neck, until all of your friends dispersed, making disgusted noises as they fled such a public display of affection.
But you couldn't be happier, grinning like a fool as you basked in a thousand not-so-secret kisses.
#regulus black#regulus black x reader#regulus black x you#regulus black x y/n#regulus black fanfiction#regulus black smut#the emeralds#slytherin skittles#harry potter fanfiction#harry potter fandom#slytherin boys#slytherin boys fanfiction#the marauders#slytherin pride#the emeralds fanfiction#harry potter smut#marauders era#regulus black oneshot#regulus black drabble
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WNBA CHAMPS ───── LUKA DONCIC (crashout couple)
free palestine carrd 🇵🇸 decolonize palestine site 🇵🇸 how you can help palestine FREE PALESTINE!
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 | 1.8k
⟢ ┈ 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 | (request for my baby jo, @wanderlusturous) luka and reader at the wnba finals after the liberty win it for the very first time
⟢ ┈ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 | nothing but fluff!!! luka being a proud husband<3
You don’t hear the buzzer. Not really.
Not over the chaos, the explosion of sound from the packed Barclays Center, not over your own blood rushing in your ears, drowning out everything except the echo of the shot you just made.
A logo three. Your logo three.
Ball arcing high, perfect rotation, the kind of shot that makes the crowd inhale as one—and then the net barely ripples as it drops through. Clean. Filthy. Forever.
It takes a second for reality to catch up, for the scoreboard to register what you already know in your bones: it’s over. Liberty, WNBA Champions.
And then everything breaks.
Your teammates hit you like a tidal wave. Someone tackles you—Sabrina? Betnijah?—and you go down, the weight of a whole franchise crashing over you in screams and tears and flying water bottles. The confetti starts before you can even process it, gold and seafoam raining from the ceiling, getting caught in your lashes, in your braids, in the sweat still cooling on your skin.
Your chest is heaving, heart sprinting, and when you finally claw your way out of the dogpile, searching for the first person you need to see, he’s already there.
Luka.
Front row, arms flung so wide it’s like he’s trying to grab the whole damn moment in his hands. His mouth is open, screaming something you can’t hear but absolutely feel, something loud and ridiculous, probably in Slovenian, probably something that’ll get clipped and memed by tomorrow morning.
He’s been a problem all night. Worn your jersey like he was on the team, talked shit to the refs, nearly got ejected from his courtside seat after he and Breanna Stewart’s wife started chirping in Spanish at each other in the third.
And now, he looks—god—he looks like he just won, too.
Like you just hit that shot for him.
Like you’d do it all over again if it meant seeing him like this.
Your legs move before your mind does. You shove past the cameras, the interviewers, the mob of celebration, sprinting full-speed toward the sideline, Luka already stepping over security like they don’t even exist. He barely has time to open his arms before you’re in them, legs wrapping tight around his waist, his arms locking around you like there’s nowhere else on earth you belong.
"You saw that?" you gasp against his ear, laughing, crying, shaking.
"I saw everything."
Luka is shaking.
Not in the way you’ve seen on the court—bouncing with adrenaline after a game-winner, vibrating with the last remnants of competition. No, this is something else entirely.
His grip on you is tight, almost desperate, like he’s afraid if he lets go, you’ll disappear into the confetti storm, into the chaos of cameras and screaming fans. His chest rises and falls in uneven bursts beneath your hands, like he can’t catch his breath. Like he just ran the length of the court in your shoes.
You pull back just enough to see his face, to take in the way his eyes shine under the bright arena lights. Luka never cries. Not after wins, not after losses. He swears he did once—after the 2018 EuroLeague championship—but you’ve never seen it yourself, only heard the story in passing, a rare glimpse at the part of him that cares so much it hurts.
But right now?
Right now, there’s a dampness at the corners of his eyes, his lips parted in something between awe and disbelief, his whole body still buzzing, like he doesn’t know what to do with all the love, all the pride, all of you.
"You really did it," he breathes, voice thick, uneven.
"You doubted me?" you tease, but your own voice shakes at the edges.
His fingers curl into the fabric of your jersey, gripping at your waist like he needs to hold onto something real, something solid. "Never," he murmurs, shaking his head, pressing his forehead against yours. His skin is warm, damp from the heat of the arena, and for a second—just a second—it’s just the two of you. No cameras, no noise, no legacy-defining moment. Just Luka and you, caught in something bigger than either of you can name.
And then—before you can say anything else, before you can laugh or cry or whisper some smartass comment about how he’s gonna be even more unbearable now that you’ve got a ring—he moves.
Luka lifts you.
Easily, effortlessly, like you don’t weigh a damn thing, arms locked under your thighs as he spins you in the air, laughing through the crack in his voice. The world tilts, gold and green and electric, and you let yourself go with it, throwing your head back, hands tangling in his hair as he carries you in a wide circle, parading you like his trophy, like he just won right alongside you.
"You’re a fucking champion!" he shouts, voice breaking mid-sentence, too full of joy to care. "The best! The best!"
It’s ridiculous. It’s over-the-top.
It’s him.
And when he finally stops spinning, when he sets you down, eyes wild with something uncontainable, you barely have a second to react before he’s cupping your face and kissing you.
It’s not neat. Not soft.
It’s everything.
A crash of lips and teeth and breathless laughter, his hands shaking where they frame your face, your own fingers curled in the fabric of his t-shirt, holding him there, here. The arena is screaming, your teammates calling for you, the trophy waiting, but for this moment—this one, infinite moment—it’s just Luka and you, caught in the aftermath of something neither of you can control.
"You’re gonna be insufferable about this," you gasp when you finally pull away, forehead resting against his.
He grins, dimple deep and cocky. "Oh, you have no idea."
You roll your eyes, pressing one last kiss to the corner of his mouth before shoving at his chest. "Alright, alright—I gotta go celebrate with my actual teammates."
Luka groans, dramatic, swiping at his eyes like he wasn’t just on the verge of tears. "Fine. Go. Leave me here. Broken. Forgotten."
"Jesus Christ," you mutter, but you’re laughing as you backpedal, fingers lingering in his grip for just a second longer before you let go, let yourself be swallowed back into the mass of bodies waiting for you.
The last thing you see before you disappear into the sea of jerseys and cameras is Luka, standing courtside, watching you with that same stunned, stupidly in-love expression.
Like he already knows—win or lose, on or off the court—you and him?
You’re always playing for the same team.
ESPN | “WNBA HISTORY: NEW YORK LIBERTY CLINCH FIRST TITLE IN THRILLING FINALS WIN—L/N SEALS IT WITH LOGO THREE” Barclays erupts as Liberty star delivers championship moment—husband Luka Dončić loses his mind courtside.
Luka Dončić doesn’t stop smiling.
Not once.
Not when he takes his seat, not when the reporters fire off their first questions about his game last night, not when someone brings up his recent dust-up with the refs—nothing. He’s all grin, his dimples carved deep, eyes still carrying the afterglow of something far more important than basketball.
It doesn’t take long for someone to bite.
“Luka, your wife just made history tonight,” one reporter starts, barely getting the sentence out before Luka practically vibrates in his seat. “What was it like watching her win her first ring?”
His whole face lights up.
“Bro.” He drags a hand down his face, like he still hasn’t fully processed it. “You don’t understand. I am—” He pauses, exhales sharply, shakes his head. “I am the happiest man alive.”
A chuckle ripples through the room. Luka leans forward, elbows on the table, still grinning like he won the damn championship himself.
“I lost my mind. Gone. Brain—poof.” He makes an explosion motion with his hands. “When she hit that shot? I was gone. Finished. I mean, you saw it, right? Best shot of the whole playoffs. Best player. Best moment. Ever.”
A few reporters laugh, already knowing this press conference has completely derailed.
“People are calling you the ultimate trophy husband after your reaction,” another journalist teases.
Luka beams. “Good! Yes! That’s me! Put it on a t-shirt—I’ll wear it to every game.”
The room cracks up. Someone asks if he’d actually wear a “Trophy Husband” shirt, and without missing a beat, Luka goes, “I’ll wear it to her ring ceremony. Front row. Say I won’t.”
The internet is already eating it up. Twitter is flooded with clips of his reaction, memes of him clapping like a proud PTA mom, videos of him looking like he was about to storm the court himself.
And he did almost storm the court.
--
You’re still on the floor, still in the haze of celebration, the weight of the championship sinking in by the second. The trophy’s been passed around, champagne’s already been popped, and your voice is hoarse from screaming—but you’re still looking for him.
It doesn’t take long.
Luka’s back on the court, despite security’s best efforts to keep him at bay. He’s already in your jersey—where the hell did he even get one that fast?—the name on the back stretched tight across his shoulders.
The moment you spot him, he spots you.
“MY WIFE’S A CHAMPION!” he bellows, arms wide, grin even wider.
“Oh my god,” you groan, but you’re already laughing, already jogging toward him as he moves fast in your direction, ducking past staff and reporters.
The second you reach him, he scoops you up like you weigh nothing, spinning you in the air again because once wasn’t enough, because he needs to hold you, needs you right there in his arms.
You cling to him, laughing, hands in his hair as he presses a long, over-the-top kiss to your cheek.
“MVP!” he yells, still holding you. “BEST IN THE WORLD! BETTER THAN ME! BETTER THAN EVERYONE!”
“Luka, put me down,” you giggle, swatting at him.
“No. No, you won, I won, we’re winning everything.”
“You didn’t win anything,” you tease.
“I won you!”
You groan, half-exasperated, half-melting because god, he’s ridiculous. Perfectly, beautifully ridiculous.
By the time he finally sets you down, you barely have a second to adjust before he cups your face again, tilting your chin up so you see every ounce of joy written across his.
“I’m so proud of you,” he murmurs, voice dipping lower, steadier. No more yelling, no more antics—just him. Just you. “So, so proud.”
Your chest tightens.
He’s seen you at your lowest, held you through every late-night doubt, every failure, every moment where you didn’t think you’d get here. And now—he’s still here, still holding you, still yours.
“I love you,” you whisper.
His whole face softens.
“Love you more, champ.”
You roll your eyes, but before you can argue, your teammates call for you, dragging you back into the celebrations, into the history you just made.
Luka watches you go, hands still outstretched like he wants to pull you back in.
Like he’ll never get tired of celebrating you.
Like he already knows—he’ll be right here, courtside, for the next one.
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The Leafs Legacy - Auston Matthews
Okay, so @tonyspep you gave me the sweetest idea with your comment! I know you were hoping for a more gentle Auston teaching his daughter to skate, but I thought the first game could be way more exciting! Hope you still love this take though!
So, here's daddy Auston being the proudest coach at his baby girl's first game. A few Leaf players make an appearance too. It's all about the fluff and cuteness! I just needed to write something like this today to make myself smile, and I hope it does the same for you! 💕 For more fun: masterlist❤️
—-
The arena buzzed with excitement—a lively mix of proud parents, devoted fans, and an entire section filled with Toronto Maple Leafs players, all gathered to witness history: the very first game of the newly established Leafs Girls' Program. And at the heart of it all, standing tall behind the bench in his team-issued jacket, was Auston Matthews—head coach of the future generation of hockey stars.
You still remember the promise Auston made when Clara was born. At the time, you thought he was joking about starting a Maple Leafs girls’ team, but that stubborn fool never let it go. For nearly a year, he hounded the directors and senior managers, relentless in his mission. You’re pretty sure they only gave in just to stop him from spamming their inboxes with proposals and cornering them with passionate speeches. But now, seeing the pride in his eyes as he watched his team, you knew—he had won.
From the stands, you held little Auston Jr. close, his tiny Maple Leafs onesie making him look impossibly adorable. At just three months old, he had no clue what was going on, but nestled in your arms, surrounded by the bright lights and the roar of the crowd, he was completely content. And in that moment, so were you.
You and Auston had talked about having more kids after Clara turned one, but life didn’t unfold as expected. Months turned into years, and despite your best efforts, nothing happened. Eventually, you both quietly let the topic go. But then, just as you were getting ready to settle into your life as a family of three, at nearly 36 years old, you found out you were pregnant. It was a shock—a miracle.
When you told Auston, he cried like a baby, overwhelmed by emotion. And to be honest, you were a hot mess too, crying and laughing at the same time.
You may not have ended up with enough kids to fill a hockey team, but you were surrounded by love—cherished by your little ones, who meant the world to you. The small moments of chaos and laughter, the sleepy snuggles, and the endless hugs were all you needed. And as for Auston, he never let you forget, that he was right about one thing: you were an absolute smoke show MILF.
But then, your attention naturally shifted. You glanced over at the ice, where Clara stood, her little figure tiny against the rink. She wore an oversized Leafs jersey, her pink and purple helmet snug on her head, and her tiny hands gripped her stick with surprising confidence. She looked so small out there, but the look in her eyes? That was all Auston. You could see the fire, the determination—just like her dad. In that moment, you knew she was going to make her own mark, and maybe even take after her father in more ways than one.
Auston paced behind the girls on the bench, hands on his hips, barking out encouragement like he was coaching a Stanley Cup Final.
Mitch, sitting right next to you, burst into laughter, nudging William. "Oh my god, look at him," he snorted. "He’s gonna lose his mind before the game’s even over."
William grinned, shaking his head. "I’ve never seen him this hyped, and we’ve played playoff games with him."
The rest of the guys joined in, chuckling at Auston’s visible excitement. Your heart swelled with warmth. You knew how deeply Auston loved his team, so seeing them here—supporting him, even if they were absolutely going to tease him about this later—meant the world to him.
You laughed along with them, bouncing little Auston Jr. in your arms. "He’s ridiculous," you said, shaking your head. "But you all know you’re going to be just as bad in about two seconds." You shot them a teasing grin, but Mitch and William both shook their heads in disbelief, eyes wide with exaggerated innocence.
And sure enough, the game finally started.
"Alright, ladies! Keep your sticks down, eyes on the puck! Clara, get ready!" Auston called out.
Clara looked back at her dad, giving him a firm nod before turning her attention to the faceoff. You couldn’t help but smile—she was only five, yet she carried herself with the same intensity Auston did before a big game.
The puck dropped, and the game was on.
Clara skated forward, her tiny legs working overtime as she chased after the puck. The other girls scrambled in every direction, but somehow, she managed to gain control. She took a few unsteady strides before taking what could only be described as the most adorable shot attempt ever. It wasn’t the hardest shot, and it wobbled a bit, but it went straight into the tiny net.
The arena erupted into cheers.
Auston lost his mind.
"YES, CLARA! THAT’S MY GIRL!" he shouted, jumping up and down. He turned to the Leafs players in the stands, waving his arms wildly. "DID YOU SEE THAT?! GOAL SCORER GENES!"
And as you predicted, Mitch and Willy shot up from their seats, cheering like maniacs.
"Future first-liner!" Mitch called out, clapping his hands.
McMann grinned and joined in. "She’s got her dad’s shot. Go, Clara baby!"
You shook your head, laughing as Auston continued his excited antics on the bench. Clara, meanwhile, looked up at her dad, her little face beaming with pride beneath her helmet.
She skated back to the bench, nearly tripping in her excitement, and Auston scooped her up the second she reached him. He lifted her high in the air, twirling her around.
"You did it, baby girl! First goal of many!"
Clara giggled, throwing her arms around his neck. "Did you see, Daddy? I scored!"
"I saw!" he beamed, pressing a kiss to her helmet. "And I think that means ice cream after the game. What do you think?"
Clara gasped, her little eyes going wide. "With sprinkles?!"
"With all the sprinkles in the world," Auston promised, setting her back down on the ice. "Now go get another one, superstar."
She grinned and skated off, ready for her next shift.
Back in the stands, you turned to the guys beside you, only to find them still on their feet, cheering as if Clara had just won the Cup.
Mitch was cupping his hands around his mouth. "SIGN HER TO AN ELC RIGHT NOW!"
William was whistling, and Bobby nodded approvingly. "She’s a natural."
You smirked. "And here I thought Auston was the only one who’d lose his mind over this."
Mitch turned to you, completely serious. "Are you kidding? That was ELITE."
William grinned. "We should be scouting her already."
You just shook your head, laughing as they continued their proud-uncle act. Meanwhile, Auston stood at the bench, hands on his knees, grinning from ear to ear as he watched his daughter—eyes filled with pride—like she had just scored the game-winning goal in the Stanley Cup Final.
Little Auston Jr. stirred in your arms, and you glanced down at him, brushing a soft kiss against his tiny forehead. "Looks like you’ve got some big skates to fill, little guy."
The game continued, filled with more adorable chaos, but in that moment—watching your husband on the bench, your daughter on the ice, and your newborn son in your arms—you knew one thing for sure.
This was happiness. This was everything you had ever dreamed of—and more.
Note: ELC = Entry-Level Contract. An ELC is the standard contract given to rookie players entering the NHL, typically when they're signing their first contract after being drafted.
#toronto maple leafs#auston matthews fic#auston matthews imagine#auston matthews x reader#Auston Matthews x you#nhl fic#nhl x reader#nhl imagine#nhl blurb#auston matthews blurb#am34#auston matthews
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♡ For my Valentine's Week Event! ♡ SFW fluffy!!! ♡ Modern!Levi x Reader ♡ Short one shot, fluffy ♡ Summary: It's your first Valentine's Day with Levi—what does he do? (I built this around one of my headcanons from here!)
"This is fucking ridiculous," Levi muttered under his breath as he navigated the uncharacteristically disastrous war zone that was his kitchen. As he held up the recipe, leaving flour-coated finger prints on it, his eyes scanned over the same step repeatedly, his brow cinched with exasperation.
"What the hell does it mean to cream butter?" he griped, turning the paper over, as if it magically would have new instructions on it. "Who in their right mind would assume everyone knows what that means?"
He set his hands down on the counter, sighing with frustration, as he took in the sights of his attempt to make sugar cookies—your favorite—though he'd internally drawn the line at heart-shaped cookie cutters. It was Valentine's Day, the first one you'd be spending together.
While you'd reassured him repeatedly that you weren't expecting him to do anything, that you'd be more than happy to just spend a night in together, he saw the way your eyes sparkled when you saw the pink and red Valentine's Day window displays at every store you passed by. He was determined not to mess this up—he felt lucky that he'd even been able to win you over in the first place, given his lack of "game" as Erwin had called it.
Levi was never one for grand gestures—and that wasn't about to change on a whim—so he'd decided on baking your favorite treat, making you dinner, and giving you flowers. For him, this was considered over-the-top.
What Levi hadn't expected was how goddamned complicated it was to make sugar cookies. He'd barely managed to create something that resembled dough, when he checked the time and realized that you'd be arriving soon.
"Shit," he mumbled, his kitchen still in disarray, and dinner not even started. At least, he thought, I managed to get the flowers. He'd picked up a bouquet of your favorite flowers earlier that day, which sat on the kitchen table, away from the disaster zone.
Before he could reconsider his plan or come up with a backup, he heard the sound of your key in the lock to the front door (he'd only just recently given you your own key). Moments later, you appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, stopping in your tracks as you took in the sight.
You started laughing—you couldn't help it.
"Levi," you said, a smile beaming on your face, "what in the world is going on in here?"
His expression turned classically grumpy, the tips of his ears turning red with embarrassment.
"They make these recipes impossible to follow," he said, defensively, holding up the recipe for you to see. "I couldn't explain to you what half of this is telling me to do."
You laughed again, stepping further into the kitchen, dodging the messes that were surely driving Levi to his breaking point.
"Let me see that," you said, an amused smile on your face as you took the paper from him, scanning over it briefly. "Sugar cookies, hm?"
"Yeah," he mumbled, his eyes studying your expression, "I wanted to make them for you. I know you like them."
Your expression softened as you put down the recipe and looked at him, your hand reaching up to gently brush away a smudge of flour from his forehead.
"Levi," you said, your voice soft and filled with affection for this man who was really trying his best to make you happy, "you didn't have to do all this. But, I appreciate it. Really."
One of the corners of his lips tugged into a half-smile. "I didn't fuck up entirely. I got you flowers." He nodded toward the table where the bouquet was waiting for you.
"Mmm, I can see that," your voice dipped just above a whisper. "Thank you, Levi."
You leaned in, your lips meeting his for a soft, flour-coated kiss.
"This recipe really isn't that complicated, though," you added, a loving tease. "I'll show you later, and then I'll let you go to town cleaning this kitchen."
"Ah," he said, his arm sliding down to wrap around your waist and draw you in closer, "you know just what I want."
You giggled, your arms slinging behind his neck. "That's because I love you, Levi."
"Love you, too," he replied, a faint raise to his eyebrow as he added, "But next year, I'm taking you out, instead."
♡ Participate in my Valentine’s Week Event! Rules are here.
♡ Requested by anonymous
♡ Masterlist
#☆.acmeangel.writes#☆.levi.oneshot#☆.drabbles#☆.valentines#levi ackerman fanfic#levi ackerman fic#levi fanfic#levi fic#levi fluff#levi ackerman fluff#levi ackerman one shot#levi drabble#levi ackerman drabble#levi x reader#levi x you#levi x y/n#levi ackerman x reader#levi ackerman x you#levi ackerman x y/n#☆.angel.requests
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February 10th - Let The World Burn by Chris Grey - Ex Husband!Sosuke Aizen x Reader
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/999d96dec0484df3fa1db1e92397d159/2d340c7125838d64-0f/s540x810/878d8d6a4f714be188da9309d8008519e9876809.jpg)
The world was quiet in the way only the aftermath of destruction could bring—an eerie silence, the air thick with ash and the metallic tang of devastation. You stood amidst the ruins of Karakura Town, your eyes fixed on the horizon. A blood-orange sky bled into the endless fog of despair, casting its ominous glow on the broken world below. You should have been frightened, but fear had long since been replaced by something more numbing: a hollow resignation.
"Sōsuke," you whispered, the name leaving your lips like a prayer and a curse.
"Still saying my name like that," his voice called out from behind you, smooth as silk and just as deceptive. "As if it belongs to you."
You turned to face him, and there he stood, an image of unshakable poise amidst chaos. Sōsuke Aizen, your ex-husband, the man you had once loved more than life itself. His captain's haori fluttered faintly in the wind, though its pristine white was marred by soot and blood. He was no longer the man you had fallen for—the gentle soul with an enigmatic smile and a warm laugh that only you seemed to elicit. No, this Aizen was something entirely different, entirely otherworldly, yet still hauntingly familiar.
"You did this," you said, your voice trembling, anger and sorrow intertwining in equal measure. "You burned everything."
"And I’d do it again," he replied without hesitation, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as they roamed your face. "For you."
The weight of his words fell upon you like the collapsing structures of the town. You shook your head, disbelief mingling with the gnawing ache in your chest. "Don't put this on me, Sōsuke. You made your choices."
His gaze softened momentarily, a fleeting flicker of something human behind those cold, calculating eyes. "You think I had a choice?" he asked, stepping closer. "The moment you left, my world began to crumble. Do you truly believe I’d let it fall apart without taking everyone else down with me?"
The wind carried his words, slicing through the air and straight into your heart. Memories flooded back—how it all began, how you had loved him, how he had charmed you with his intellect and quiet strength. You had believed in him, trusted him, stood by his side even as whispers of his ambitions began to surface. And when his true nature was revealed, you had walked away, leaving him and everything you had built together behind.
"You were never satisfied," you said, your voice breaking. "You always wanted more—more power, more control. I couldn't stay and watch you destroy yourself."
"And yet here you are," he said, tilting his head slightly. "Drawn back to me, as if by fate."
You hated how he could still read you so well. Despite everything, a part of you had hoped he could be saved—that somewhere beneath the layers of manipulation and arrogance, the man you once loved still existed. But the look in his eyes told you otherwise. This was not a man who sought redemption. This was a man who would let the world burn for his own desires.
"I came to stop you," you said firmly, though your resolve wavered under his penetrating gaze.
He laughed softly, a sound devoid of warmth. "Stop me? My dear, you should know better. You can’t stop what’s already in motion. The world is my chessboard, and I am its master. And you…" He stepped even closer, so close you could feel the heat radiating off him, like the embers of the destruction he had wrought. "You are my queen."
You recoiled as if struck. "I was never a piece in your game, Sōsuke. And I won’t be now."
His hand reached out, fingers brushing against your cheek in a gesture so tender it made your chest ache. "You misunderstand," he said softly. "You were never just a piece. You were the reason I played at all."
Tears pricked at your eyes despite yourself. "Then why? Why do this? Why destroy everything?"
His expression darkened, the softness vanishing as quickly as it had appeared. "Because if I cannot have you, no one can." His voice was calm, but there was a chilling edge to it, an undercurrent of unyielding obsession. "I let you go once, and it nearly destroyed me. I won’t make the same mistake again."
"You can't control me," you said, your voice trembling with a mix of defiance and desperation. "I’m not yours to keep."
His eyes glinted with something dangerous, something unrelenting. "Aren’t you?" he asked, his voice dropping to a whisper. "Even now, you carry the mark of my love, whether you acknowledge it or not."
He was right, and you hated him for it. No matter how much time had passed, no matter how far you had run, the ghost of him lingered—his touch, his words, his very presence etched into your soul like a scar. But you couldn’t let him win. Not this time.
"You’re a fool, Sōsuke," you said, your voice steady despite the tears streaming down your face. "You think love is about possession, about control. But love is sacrifice. It’s letting go."
A flicker of emotion crossed his face—regret, perhaps, or something close to it. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared. "Love is power," he countered. "And I will wield it as I see fit."
With that, the ground beneath you began to tremble. The sky darkened further, the air thickening with reiatsu so oppressive it felt as though the world itself was suffocating. He was showing you the extent of his power, the lengths he would go to keep you bound to him.
"Sōsuke, stop!" you cried, but your voice was drowned out by the deafening roar of the collapsing world around you.
"Do you see now?" he said, his voice cutting through the chaos like a blade. "This is what I am willing to do for you. For us."
But there was no "us" anymore. There hadn’t been for a long time. And as much as it tore at your heart, you knew what you had to do. You summoned every ounce of strength within you, focusing your reiatsu into a single, desperate attack. If you couldn’t reach the man you once loved, then you would stop the monster he had become.
"I’m sorry, Sōsuke," you whispered, more to yourself than to him.
The blast of your energy collided with his, a brilliant explosion of light and power that illuminated the ruins of Karakura Town. When the dust settled, you were on your knees, gasping for breath. Aizen stood before you, seemingly unscathed, though his expression was unreadable.
"You’re strong," he said, almost admiringly. "Stronger than I gave you credit for."
"It doesn’t matter," you said, forcing yourself to your feet. "I’ll keep fighting you, Sōsuke. Until my last breath, I’ll fight."
He studied you for a long moment, his eyes filled with something you couldn’t quite decipher. "Perhaps that’s why I loved you," he said finally. "Your fire, your defiance. It’s intoxicating."
"Then let me go," you pleaded, your voice breaking. "If you ever truly loved me, let me go."
For a moment, you thought he might. His hand twitched at his side, his expression softening just enough to give you hope. But then, he stepped back, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"No," he said simply. "I’d rather let the world burn."
And with that, he vanished, leaving you alone amidst the ashes of what once was. You sank to the ground, your strength finally giving out. The battle was far from over, but in that moment, all you could do was mourn—mourn the man you had loved, the life you had lost, and the world that had been consumed by his ambition.
As the blood-orange sky darkened into night, you whispered his name one last time, the echo of it swallowed by the silence of a world on the brink of oblivion.
.
.
.
Masterlist
#sosuke aizen#aizen sosuke x reader#bleach aizen#aizen#aizen x reader#sosuke aizen x reader#bleach#bleach x reader#SoundCloud
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Dinosaurs can laugh! (Antoher Dandy's World Tickle Fic
Made another one speciallt for the requester to fuel their Lee!Shelly needs
Requested by: @mosaichunter (I ALSMOST PING THE WRONG PERSON)
Lee:Shelly
Ler:Vee (Yup, again!)
Starring:None, just two of them!
Word Count:1,585
Warning:This is a tickle fic, again. If you don't really like those kind of stuff, scroll pass
Bits of angst. Just a bit at the beginning but it'll tone down
((brackets like these are creator's notes in the fic))
Extra note:While this is technically connected to the previous fic , you don't need to read it in order to understand this fic.
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Shelly can hear the roaring cheer outside. She can feel the plastic texture of her dino toys. She can feel the cold stone floor beneath her. She can feel the scars on her heart. It hurts to know that the crowd outside dosen't even know her name. It hurts to know that the love she gets is just as little as the attention the kids pay when she talks about her dinosaur facts. It hurts that there are only a few toons who are aware of her problems. It hurts....
Until her thoguhts were cut short when she heard a creek from the woodeen door, follow by a familiar looking TV host((totally not because we just saw her last chapther)),follow by a powerful slam.
"Oh, your done already?"
Vee held a grudge from the loud blasting crowd behind, turning to Shelly and nodding with one foot on the door.
"Wish it was even earlier. Being a host is quite stressful sometimes. Now, what did yoy want to talk about when we were at the hallways? "
The ammonite's face switch to that of a teary looking one, darting down on the ground and not muttering a word until the TV head host broke the silence.
"Was it because you are being ignored again?"
"Wh-No! I promise this one is different." She waves her hands around in denial.
"Really? Tell me more about it." She respond, as she took a seat beside her.
It was hard for Shelly to make eye contact with how hard is it to word this new worry, but she still did her best to keep the point straight:
"I've been thinking a lot about..... Changing what's mainly about me.... To be more specific, my liking for dinosaurs. I tried a lot of things:baking, sewing, roleplay, even game hosting with the toons, but it's either I..... Don't enjoy it as much or I'm not as good at it.... Mostly the first point... "
She fiddles her fingers around, as tiny drops of tears fell on the floor. Vee can clearly she how desperate she is for just a little love, for just a little attention, for just a little recognition, so she pat her on the back to soothe her aching heart a bit and gives a pep talk:
"Hey there, dino girl, look at me."
"Hmm?"
"I know that dinosaurs aren't the most popular among the kids, but that dosen't mean it can't be interesting. There are so many fun ways to express it out, but that dosen't exactly mean your way isn't good. You know what they say:" Sometimes it takes time to find the right audience." etc etc.... "
She widens her eyes a bit, feeling a bit better with Vee's ramble (Or pep talk again I'M NOT REALLY GOOD WITH WORDS), as she countinues to listen to her:
"And besides, fame isn't everything. Sure, it seems like the greatest gift when you have lots of it, but when it dies down, what now? Barely anyone knows you, there is some new kind of thing that's all the rage, and worst of all, you know what was it like to be loved. Not to mention busy schedules and having little to no privacy. Seriously, I can't even remember the last time I had a nice and normal chat with Teagen. "
She quietly opens her shuttle, looking at the old, janky wries for a short moment in a bit of quivering sadness, before closing it and turning back to Shelly, who was just nodding her head this entire time.
It was quite the akward stare, to say the least, just for her to process everything Vee said and wipe her tiny tears.
Suddenly, a little idea spark in the television's CPU. Without scaring her too much, she taps on her fat dino finger(okay she dosen't really have those but cmon, think about it) to get her attention and spoke:
"Hey, I can prove that your dino knowlage does have some use."
Of coruse, you can't just say that to some person your trying to comfort and expe t them to understand. The ammonite's head tilts like a confused dog, before responding with a few studders:
"Wh-wh-what?"
Wagging her mic tail nervously, she scrathes the back of her antenna and replies back:
"Uhmmmm, how do I say this....... Could I........ Dust off your ribs?" (A luttle silly secret word of 'Can I tickle'. Aka the creator forgot the the term for secret word so her worsing is super off AHHH)
Her eyes light up in excitement as her dino tail wags rapid and her hands wave, turning around and fully exposing the area.
"Of course you can! I'm still not sure how that relates to what you said earlier, buttt I'll go with the flow."
With a smile on her face, Vee retracts her cold, metal fingers to give them little fur tips, before extending her arms to grab Shelly by the shoulders and wraps her mic wire tail around her body.
((Alright IK there might be too much creator notes, but this is important, I promise. I honestly don't think I can contently write both Shelly and Vee's names for this psrt since it rapidly switches the focus, so you, the reader will need to keep track of that. If you are reading this thank you :)))
Without warning, she felt a few of her top rib bones getting attacked by the fingers. That combined with the fact it's near her underarms, another vunerable spot, makes her burst of of laugther and flail her arms around helplessly. To say that she didn't expect her to immediately aim for it would be an understatement.
"VHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHEHE, THAHAHAHTHAHHA WAHHAHAHAHA, GAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHA."
As if that wasen't enough, the host positions her mic right in front of her mouth to amplify her laugther thoguh her speakers.
"You know, after what's possibly the longest gameshow, I could really use a bit of relaxing music to calm my wires down from the win of the other craft. Now, tell me, my deae ammonite, what's an interesting fact about dinosaurs and your sweet melt spot?"
Her blush was quickly forming on her face, especially with that little comment on her ribs. Regardless of how much tickles she is tanking, hiwever, she is still able to roll out one.
"AHAHAHA THEHEHEREHEHEHX HAHAHAHAS AHAHA SEHEHEHEHCHOHOHOHND SHEHEHEHEHET OHOHHOHOFHO RHIHIHIBS CHAHAHAHALLHEHED GASHHEHEHESTHAHAHAHLHIHIHIAS."
"Hmmmm, impressive! Perhaps you wouldn't mind naming me a flying dinosaur that flaps like your arms?"
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA ARHAHAHACHAHEHEHOHPTHEHERHEHEYHEHX DHOHOHOHEHEHS."
"Not sure how your able to say such a long name when your mind is as tangled as your body under my tickles, but I'll guve you credit for that. Perhaps we will need to increase the difficulty a bit more."
Giving her palms fluffy pads, she moves the the bridge of the sides and the belly, letting the it and the fingers work together around that area. This sudden increase of ticklish feeling jolts her body around and fills the room with even more of her laugthers.
"AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA, NHOHOHOHOHOHOHT THEHEHEHEHEHERHEHEHEHE VHEHEHEHEHEHE. THAHAHAHAHAHAHAHTHEHAHTS MHIHIHIHY MHEHEHEHEHEHEHELT SPHOHOHOHOHHOHOT."
"Everywhere is a melt spot for you, silly. Say, what kind of dinosaur has the largest stomach and how much it can eat?"
"AHAHA BRHAHAHANCHIHIHOSHAHARHUHS CHAHAHAN EHAHAHAT FOHOHOHOHUR HUHUHUUHUHNDRHEHEHED THOHOHO NIHIHIHIHNE HUHUHUHNDHRHEHEHED PHOHOHOHHOUNDS OHOHOHOHOF LEHAHHEHAHEHAHAHFY GRHEHEHEHEHENS AHAHA DHAHAHAY."
"Wonderful, really, wonderful! Last question before I let you go:Can dinosaurs laugh?"
"WHAHAHAHAHAIT, WHAHAHAHAT?"
"Can a dinosaur laugh just as loud as you? Hmm"
She repeats, as her fingers got closer to the center of her stomach.
"IHIHIHHIHT DHOHOHOHNT HAHAHAHAHAVE THEHEHEHEHE ANHAHAHANSWHEHEER THOHOHOHO THAHAHAHAT!"
"I'm just joking, silly, I don't know the answer to that either."
See her nearly cracking up to a little mess, she suddenly retracts the fluffy pads awaywhile still holding her body. Shelly babbled around like an idiot for a minite or two before she realized that the tickling stop. Feeling relieved, she takes her time to catch her breath and wipe of all the sweat on her head(don't ask me how is Vee not affected by that). She wags her tail playfully around Vee's stomatch, not fliching her by even a bit. Before long, her lungs had ctahc enough air for her to verbalize some words:
"Hey, Vee, thanks alot..... Huff.... For the tickles...... I've been craving some since this morning....."
"Haha, no problem! Look, I do want to apologize for not really spending time with you these past few days. I've got a lot of events to headline, including my own gameshow."
"Yeah, I understand,.... Haha..... Say, how exactly did you prove my dino knowlage...... Was worth something.......? "
"Don't you see it, Shelly? You could just pop one out even under such laughter as if it was nothing! That dosen't just take knowlage, but also some fighting energy and lung capacity! I'm telling you, you're a real fighter for this. "
"Oh!..... Well that's new..... Maybe that explains why I accidentally crack Tisha's.... Knuckles a bit too hard yesterday....."
"..... You what now?"
"..... Yeah.... I may or may not have.... Broke her arm?"
"..... I'm not even going to question that. Anyways, my next gameshow could use snother contestant. Wanna join?"
"Your kidding?..... Of coruse I would!"
"Alright alright, I'll register your name later. Come on, let's get some soft tacos."
"But you can't eat food, can you?"
"A robot can dream, Shelly, a robot can dream."
And so, the TV host picked up the ammonite by the hand and took the other exit back to the toon rooms, leaving the aftershow on a sweet note.
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Thank you so much for your patience! Speaking honestly, I wish I could get thus done earlier, but hey, better late than never!
Let's thank Google for giving me some dino facts to incoperate into this fic, and thank my will to tease the requester the motivation to finush this fic! /silly
Have aa good day mate! And proud to say I enjoyed this fic alot more!
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FANFICTION Melissa Schemmenti x Reader
Fly, Eagles, Fly
The scent of pizza and beer filled the air as Melissa Schemmenti’s house was packed with friends and family, all gathered to watch the Super Bowl. You, Abbott Elementary’s new Brazilian teacher, were the only one who didn’t fully understand American football, but honestly? That didn’t matter.
Your focus was elsewhere.
Or rather, on someone.
Melissa.
The redhead sat on the couch, wearing a vintage Eagles jersey, her hair down, her expression fierce and determined as she watched the game. You had gotten used to her passionate nature in everyday life, but seeing her like this—so completely immersed—was a new, mesmerizing experience.
Ever since you started this secret relationship, moments like these were your favorite. Small windows where you could exchange subtle touches, lingering glances, and teasing smiles without raising suspicion.
And tonight would be no different.
You adjusted yourself on the couch, sitting beside her, your leg brushing against hers. Melissa didn’t take her eyes off the screen, but a small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.
— “Having fun, Brazilian?” she asked, still focused on the game.
— “More than I expected,” you replied with a grin.
She chuckled, taking a sip of her beer.
— “Bet it’s more because of me than the game.”
You didn’t confirm, but you didn’t deny it either.
As the game went on, Melissa became more and more invested. Every time the Eagles made a play, she gestured, cursed, and cheered. Sometimes, she’d clutch her own face, looking ready to have a breakdown right there.
At one point, you decided to tease her. Leaning in close, you whispered into her ear:
— “You look really sexy when you’re this into it.”
She turned to you for a brief second, green eyes flickering between amusement and something deeper.
— “Don’t distract me now, babe, or I’ll kick you out,” she joked, though the twitch of her lips betrayed her smile.
— “Oh, really?” you challenged, letting your hand rest lightly on her thigh.
She swallowed, but quickly refocused on the game. You bit your lip to keep from laughing. In the end, her love for the Eagles truly outweighed any distraction.
The Final Play
The game was in its final moments, and the Eagles were just inches away from victory. The tension in the room was suffocating, everyone completely glued to the screen. Melissa was at the edge of the couch, nails digging into her knee.
Even without understanding all the rules, you could feel how much this moment meant.
And then it happened.
The whistle blew. The game was over.
The Philadelphia Eagles were Super Bowl champions.
For a second, there was silence.
Then the entire house erupted.
Melissa jumped up from the couch, arms in the air, practically glowing with excitement.
— “OH MY GOD, YES!” she screamed, spinning in place, her face lit up with pure joy.
You smiled, ready to celebrate discreetly, but before you could react, Melissa turned, and without a second thought, ran straight to you, pulling you into a tight hug.
You barely had time to process it before her arms wrapped around you, her body warm and pressed against yours.
— “You’re my lucky charm, you know that?” Melissa murmured against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. — “Now every Eagles game, we’re watching together.”
Your heart pounded at the unexpected confession.
— “So, does this mean I’m officially part of the Schemmenti family tradition?” you teased, trying to mask how much those words meant to you.
— “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve been part of it for a while,” Melissa replied before capturing your lips in a quick kiss.
It was brief, stolen in the middle of all the chaos, but it still made your stomach flip.
You only pulled apart when someone shouted:
— “HEY! You two, come celebrate with us!”
Melissa laughed and grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours, no longer caring about hiding anything.
In that moment, nothing else mattered. Not the curious looks, not the fact that your relationship had been a secret until now.
What mattered was that you were here, together, celebrating.
And that you would never miss an Eagles game again.
#abbott elementary#lisa ann walter#melissa schemmenti x reader#philadelphia eagles#eagles#middle aged women
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Breaking Character pt13/13
Summary: You are the new cast member of 'The Boys' and you play Butcher's cousin and Soldier Boy's new love interest 'Solene'. You're introduced to the cast by the director at a dinner and you're seated next to Karl and Jensen to "bond".
![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/f51d920d24896c7dab885b7b7d984975/fd87e674ff91ae93-35/s540x810/f9f40b30829074e3068d1962bff0a44076f31138.jpg)
Jensen had spent weeks trying to figure out the perfect way to propose. It had to be big because this woman had changed his entire life, turned it inside out, and made him better—but it also had to feel like them. He didn’t want a flashy, red-carpet moment with paparazzi. He didn’t want to do it at some fancy event with a million eyes watching.
This was about her, him, and the kids.
So, he planned. And over-planned. He ran through every possible scenario, debated for hours with Jared and Misha, even called his mom for advice.
And in the end, it came down to one question:
"What would make her laugh, cry, and call me an idiot all at once?"
The answer?
A freaking treasure hunt.
It was supposed to be a normal night. A simple, quiet evening at home.
At least, that’s what Y/N thought.
She was curled up on the couch in one of Jensen’s hoodies, flipping through a book while the kids played a game on the floor. The air smelled like popcorn and chocolate, leftovers from their earlier movie night.
And then, out of nowhere, JJ climbed onto the couch and plopped directly onto Y/N’s stomach.
Y/N groaned. “Kid, I love you, but you weigh more than you think.”
JJ just grinned and shoved a folded piece of paper into her hands. “You need to read this. Now.”
Y/N raised an eyebrow. “What is this? Your report card? Am I supposed to be proud or concerned?”
Zeppelin giggled. “It’s a clue.”
Y/N’s eyes flickered to Jensen, who sat on the opposite couch with a smug as hell expression. Arms crossed, looking way too pleased with himself.
“Oh no.” Y/N groaned. “What did you do?”
Jensen smirked. “Read it and find out, sweetheart.”
She narrowed her eyes at him but unfolded the note anyway.
"For someone who stole my heart, it’s only fair you find the missing pieces. Clue #1: Where Zeppelin always hides when it’s bath time."
Y/N barked out a laugh. “Under the stairs? Seriously?”
Zeppelin gasped dramatically. “HOW DID YOU KNOW?”
Y/N ruffled his hair. “Because I see you, little dude.”
The kids shrieked and took off running toward the hiding spot under the stairs, practically dragging Y/N along.
Jensen stayed behind for a second, just watching. Watching her. Watching the way she fit so seamlessly into their lives, the way the kids clung to her, the way her laughter filled every corner of the house.
He exhaled slowly.
"This is it," he thought. "This is everything."
And then, shaking himself out of his thoughts, he followed after them.
Each clue led her through different parts of the house—each one tied to a moment in their relationship.
The kitchen, where they had their first real argument because Jensen used the wrong kind of cheese in the mac and cheese (she still hadn’t let him live that down).
The living room couch, where the kids had first told Y/N they loved her.
The porch swing, where they had shared countless late-night talks, their hands intertwined, the world quiet around them.
Every single stop was a memory. A reminder. A piece of their story.
By the time she reached the final clue, her fingers were trembling slightly as she unfolded it.
"Look to the sky. Your last clue is waiting."
Y/N frowned. “Look to the—”
And then she heard it.
A loud, whooshing sound.
She turned around—her eyes widening as she took in the giant hot air balloon in the backyard, glowing softly under the fairy lights that Jensen had strung up in the trees.
Y/N froze. “You have GOT to be kidding me.”
Jensen, standing next to it with his hands in his pockets, just grinned. “What, you scared?”
She turned to the kids. “Are you guys going in this?”
JJ nodded, bouncing on her feet. “DUH! It’s gonna be so fun!”
Arrow beamed. “Dad said it’s safe.”
Y/N shot Jensen a glare. “You trust him?”
“Hey,” Jensen scoffed, holding a hand over his heart. “I take great care of you guys.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes. “You almost cut your damn eye out trying to open a bottle of wine last week.”
“…Okay, but—”
“I had to drive us to the ER.”
“Technicalities, sweetheart.”
Y/N sighed, shaking her head, but she still let Jensen take her hand and lead her toward the balloon. “If we die, I’m haunting you.”
Jensen smirked. “Wouldn’t have it any other way.”
The view from above was breathtaking.
The town below looked so small, the sky was painted in streaks of orange, pink, and deep purple. The air was crisp, the world quiet except for the occasional gasp from the kids as they looked out over the edge.
Jensen turned to her, his heart hammering.
This was it.
“Y/N,” he started, pulling her attention back to him.
She blinked. “Yeah?”
He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair before pulling a small velvet box from his pocket. “Look—I’ve thought about doing this a million different ways. Something big, something crazy, something quiet. But at the end of the day, the only thing that really matters is you, me, and these little monsters.”
Arrow gasped. “Did you just call us monsters?”
Jensen smirked. “Affectionately.”
Y/N let out a breathless laugh.
“The truth is,” Jensen continued, “I didn’t think I’d ever do this again. I thought love like this wasn’t in the cards for me. And then you came along, and you made everything easy. Even the hard shit. Even the fights, even the chaos—you made it all worth it. You made me worth it.”
Y/N’s eyes were already glossy with unshed tears.
“So,” he said, finally flipping open the box, revealing the ring. “Here I am, in a fucking hot air balloon, with my heart in my hands, asking you to marry me.”
JJ nearly screamed. “SAY YES!”
Y/N covered her face, laughing and crying at the same time. Then she dropped her hands, shaking her head.
“You absolute idiot,” she muttered.
Jensen swallowed. “…Is that a yes or—”
She lunged forward and kissed him, hard.
The kids cheered. Jensen was grinning into the kiss. And when she finally pulled back, pressing her forehead against his, she whispered, “Of course I’ll marry you.”
Jensen slipped the ring onto her finger, pressing a lingering kiss to her knuckles.
And as the hot air balloon floated higher into the sky, carrying them into forever, he whispered, “Good, ‘cause you’re stuck with me now.”
Jensen had never been the kind of guy to dream about his wedding day. Not really.
But this? This felt right. No over-the-top, Hollywood-style spectacle. No paparazzi swarming the venue. Just their closest friends, family, and the people who had been part of their journey from the very start. It was grand, because loving her deserved something grand. But it was also intimate, because this was theirs.
And today, she would become his wife.
The wedding was held at a private ranch in Texas—wide open fields, towering oak trees, and the sky stretching endlessly above them. Fairy lights wrapped around the wooden beams of the barn, candles flickered on every table, and wildflowers lined the aisle leading to the altar. It was rustic but elegant. Warm and inviting.
Just like them.
The sun was beginning to set, casting golden light over everything, and Jensen stood at the altar, hands clasped together, heart pounding in his chest.
Jared, his best man, leaned in and muttered, “You look like you’re gonna puke, man.”
Jensen let out a breathless chuckle. “Not helping.”
Misha, standing on the other side, smirked. “You cry, I cry. That’s how this works.”
Jensen rolled his eyes, but his grip on the inside of his jacket tightened. He hadn’t seen Y/N all day, hadn’t even spoken to her since last night.
And then, suddenly—
The music started.
A soft, acoustic version of “Iris” played through the air.
And there she was.
Jensen felt his breath hitch the second she stepped into view.
Y/N was stunning.
Her dress was everything he imagined it would be—timeless, effortless, breathtaking. The fabric hugged her in all the right places before flowing out, delicate lace trailing behind her. The setting sun bathed her in golden light, making her look almost unreal.
But it wasn’t just the dress.
It was her.
The way she looked at him like he was the only person in the world. The way her lips curved into a soft, knowing smile. The way her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.
Jensen swallowed hard.
Jared nudged him. “Dude.”
“Yeah?”
“You’re crying.”
Jensen blinked rapidly, clearing his throat. “Shut up.”
When Y/N finally reached him, Jensen exhaled deeply, taking both of her hands in his.
“Hey, sweetheart,” he whispered.
She grinned. “Hey, husband-to-be.”
The officiant started speaking, but Jensen barely heard him. His world had shrunk down to just her—the feeling of her fingers interlaced with his, the way her chest rose and fell with every nervous breath.
And then, it was time for the vows.
Jensen cleared his throat, pulling out a small piece of paper.
“I tried to write something short,” he started, voice rough with emotion. “But you know me. I suck at keeping things simple.”
A soft chuckle rippled through the crowd.
“I’ve been in love before,” he started, voice thick. “I thought I knew what it meant. I thought I understood what love was. But I was wrong. Because love isn’t just the easy parts. It’s not just the good mornings, the kisses, the date nights. Love is the days when nothing makes sense. When everything is falling apart. When you feel like you’re standing in the middle of a storm, and you don’t know which way is forward.
And Y/N—" He exhaled shakily, tightening his grip on her hands. “You were my way forward. You are my way forward.”
A tear slipped down her cheek, and Jensen reached up, brushing it away with his thumb.
“I love you,” he said. “Not just for the person you are, but for the person you make me want to be. I love the way you laugh too loudly, the way you steal my coffee even though you have your own, the way you take care of everyone around you. I love every little piece of you, and I promise you—” His voice cracked. “I promise to choose you. Over and over. Every single day. For the rest of my life.”
Y/N let out a soft, choked laugh, wiping at her eyes.
She sniffled, blinking up at him with so much love it nearly knocked the breath out of his lungs.
Her voice was shaky when she started, full of emotion. “Jensen… I spent so much of my life thinking love had to be complicated. That it had to be a battle, something to fight for, to prove. And then I met you. And you taught me that love doesn’t have to be a war.”
She squeezed his hands, her lips trembling.
“You showed me that love can be safe. That it can be warm, and steady, and something I never have to second-guess. You have been my best friend, my partner, the person I trust with every part of me. And today, I get to call you my husband.”
A single tear rolled down her cheek, but she was smiling.
“I promise to love you,” she said softly. “In the big moments and the small ones. In the quiet mornings and the stormy nights. I promise to stand beside you, to fight for you, to be the person who reminds you every single day that you are so, so loved.”
Her voice broke on the last words, and Jensen felt a tear slip down his own cheek.
There was silence—just for a second. Just long enough for the moment to settle deep in his bones.
Then, the officiant spoke.
“You may now kiss the bride.”
And Jensen—he didn’t waste a second.
He cupped her face, pulled her in, and kissed her like it was the first time, the last time, and every time in between.
The world melted away.
It was just them.
It had always been just them.
And now, forever, it would be.
They had fought for this, for each other, for the family they had built together. From the chaos of their early days, the ups and downs, the moments of doubt and confusion, they had weathered every storm. The kids, their laughter, the fights, the makeups—each part of their life together was like a piece of a puzzle, finally fitting into place.
As they stood there, exchanging vows, Jensen’s voice cracked with emotion. He wasn’t just making a promise to Y/N in that moment; he was sealing everything they had been through together—every single sacrifice, every shared moment of joy. And Y/N, with her heart full of everything she had ever hoped for, knew they had finally found their way home.
Later, in the quiet of their home, as the world outside settled into peaceful slumber, they curled up together on the couch, their fingers intertwined. Their hearts beat in sync, the weight of their journey no longer a burden but a testament to their love.
They had been through hell and back, but now, they were ready to face whatever came next. Together.
And as Y/N rested her head against Jensen’s chest, she knew that no matter where life took them, they had found something unbreakable. They had found each other.
THE END
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A/N: so yes, i did cry. im so sorry if this wasnt what you guys were expecting but this is all i could do, i've got finals in three days but here it is! This is the end of Breaking Character, and i'm so proud of how this entire series turned out, I didn't expect so much love from you guys. Thank you all <3
@justwhisperingfantasies @impala67rollingthroughtown @deansimpalababy @jackles010378 @winchester @barnes70stark @nancymcl @oceean @spnaquakindgdom @ladysparkles78 @sexyvixen7 @spxideyver @stoneyggirl2 @star-yawnznn @quietgirll75 @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing @palerogue1 @writtenbyhollywood
#jensen fucking ackles#jensen x reader#jensen ackles#jensen ackles fanfiction#the boys#karl urban#soldier boy#jared padalecki#misha collins
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yay for prompts!! would love to see your take on forced proximity (nr 4)!
Pinky Promise
Rated G
Here be so much fluff. Hope you enjoy!
“Well, shit,” Eddie says. Fat wet drops of rain are starting to come down through the thick trees of the forest.
He curses himself again for not double-checking his tent before leaving, not catching the entire top seam that’s fraying and dotted with pinpoint holes. It’s perfectly serviceable for dry weather, but the weather forecast is currently proving to be bullshit, the ground getting steadily wetter around him by the second.
“What’s taking you so long to pitch a tent?” Buck asks, barely holding back the smirk on his face as he emerges from his own one-person tent and inspects the useless nylon in Eddie’s hands.
“Well, shit.”
Eddie can’t help but laugh, grin twisting into a grimace as thunder shakes the trees around them.
“Guess we’re bunking together,” Buck shrugs, taking the tent from Eddie’s cold hands and wrapping it back up into its bag before resting it against the tree. “Get in there before you get soaked, man.”
Eddie shakes himself from the frozen moment and grabs his still mostly-dry sleeping bag and dashes for the tent, Buck hot on his heels as the rain picks up.
“It wasn’t supposed to rain,” Eddie grumbles as Buck zips up the tent securely.
“At least we have one dry tent,” Buck says, shrugging easily, unbothered.
He has to crouch to avoid hitting the top of the tent, and quickly settles down on the sleeping bag that he drags as far to one side of the small space as he can.
Eddie looks around, realizing he could practically touch each side of the tent with his arms if he stood in the middle. He’s used to being close to Buck, but this is pushing the levels of comfortable.
“Good thing Chris refused to camp with us, after all,” Eddie says as he kicks off his boots and shoves them into a corner before unzipping his sleeping bag and sitting inside it.
“I bet Hen and Karen are letting him stay up way too late eating junk food and playing video games,” Buck says, wistfully. “What time is it, anyway?”
“Almost nine,” Eddie laughs, looking down at his waterproof watch. “It’s not even Chris’ actual bedtime yet.”
“Feels later,” Buck yawns, looking up at the raindrops beating down on the tent relentlessly.
“We did swim for hours,” Eddie says. “Before the sky decided to open up.”
“At least we ate already,” Buck offers. “Rain won’t stop animals from sniffing out food if we left it out.”
“There is that,” Eddie begrudgingly agrees. “I wanted to make s’mores though.”
“You’re worse than Chris,” Buck laughs.
“That doesn’t sound very supportive of my journey to find joy,” Eddie snarks back. “I will absolutely rat you out to Father Brian.”
“I’m not afraid of a priest,” Buck scoffs playfully. “I’m not Catholic, they have no power over me.”
“You’d never expect it,” Eddie teases a warning, “that’s how they get ya.”
“What’s the opposite of holy water?” Buck muses, “I’ll have to get some of that to ward the Church off.”
“Uh,” Eddie thinks, “hellfire?”
Buck wrinkles his nose. “They probably don’t sell that at Whole Foods.”
“There would definitely be import fees,” Eddie agrees wryly.
Buck grins, always so pleased when Eddie plays along, a fact that he couldn’t hide if he tried.
“Go to sleep, Firestarter,” Eddie says, wiggling down into his own sleeping bag and curling up, grateful for the built in pillow.
He’s asleep before he can see if Buck listens or not.
Daylight wakes Eddie up with what sounds like an explosion, and he has to take several deep breaths until he can convince his racing heart to calm down. Peering up at the roof of the tent, he sees it’s still the middle of the night, thunder and lightning waking him instead of sunlight.
“Fuck,” he mutters to himself, turning to check on Buck, only to meet his wide shiny eyes, barely visible in the dark tent.
“Hey,” Buck whispers. “You ok?”
“Just startled me,” Eddie says, now that his breathing has returned to normal. “Are you ok?”
Eddie sees it in Buck’s face before he’s even said it; the automatic dismissal of his own feelings, the years of shoving everything deep down into the dark.
“We don’t lie to each other,” Eddie reminds him gently. “You pinky-promised. Pretty sure you Buckleys consider that a legally binding agreement.”
Buck laughs wetly, and nods. “Damn right, it is.”
“So tell me the truth,” Eddie says, reaching out across the cramped space and clasping a hand around Buck’s shoulder. “Are you ok?”
Buck shakes his head, swallowing around a tight throat and curling up until his knees are practically flush to his chest.
“I’m freaking terrified,” he admits, voice soft like he’s still half-expecting to be punished for using it.
Eddie’s heart breaks for him, both for his best friend and for the scared little kid he knows still lives in Buck’s chest.
“Come here,” Eddie says instead of voicing his wishes to cut the Buckley parent’s brake lines.
Buck freezes for a moment, giving Eddie a cautious look. They’re closer than most best friends, but they’ve never just straight up cuddled before.
“No funny business,” Eddie laughs quietly, holding out his arms with a flourish. “Just come let me protect you, alright?”
Buck hesitates another moment, before the tent illuminates a shocking white again, followed by the ground beneath them rumbling. Losing any reservations, he scrambles over into Eddie’s unzipped sleeping bag and open arms.
“You’ll be cold,” Eddie says against Buck’s hair as he practically melds himself into Eddie’s neck.
Buck reaches back with one arm and grabs his discarded sleeping bag and tucks it over himself, all without opening his eyes.
“Good enough,” Eddie says.
“Thank you,” Buck puffs against Eddie’s skin, and maybe it should be weird, but all Eddie feels is an overwhelming sense that nothing has ever felt so right.
“Don’t mention it,” Eddie says, squeezing him reassuringly. “Go back to sleep, I’ve got you.”
To his surprise, Buck just squeezes back and does what he’s told.
By the time the actual sun rises, Eddie has a crick in his neck and he’s pretty sure his left arm is completely numb, but he feels surprisingly refreshed. Buck is still asleep, head pillowed on Eddie’s numb arm and one of his own arms slung snugly across Eddie’s chest. His hand is curled around Eddie’s rib cage, and Eddie has to force a breath around the sudden rush of blood in his ears as he thinks about how perfectly he fits in Buck’s hold.
“Too early,” Buck mumbles as he wakes up slightly. “Five more minutes.”
“We have hours,” Eddie whispers. “The sun just came up.”
“No more storm?” Buck asks, eyes still firmly closed and his hand idly tracing Eddie’s ribs through his t-shirt.
“No more storm,” Eddie concurs, reaching up with his free hand before he can stop himself and ruffling Buck’s humidity-puffed curls.
“Good,” Buck says sleepily, tucking his head back against Eddie’s throat for a moment before tensing up as he remembers their current arrangement.
“Relax,” Eddie says, locking his arms as Buck goes to move away. “You’re fine where you are.”
Buck sags back against him, smiling against Eddie’s skin.
“Rethinking the no funny business thing?” he teases.
“Maybe,” Eddie says, flushing warm at even the thought of it all.
“Good,” Buck says, before tilting his head up and pressing a short but firm kiss against Eddie’s surprised lips. “I love laughing with you.”
“Yeah, well. I’d hug you right now,” Eddie laughs, “but pretty sure my arm is dead.”
Buck cringes in sympathy, before untangling himself from Eddie’s hold and pulling away.
“I didn’t want you to move,” Eddie says, watching with confusion as Buck just stretches out on his back beside him.
“Your turn to be the teddy bear,” Buck grins, holding out his arms until Eddie finally takes the hint and shuffles around until he’s resting against Buck’s chest, surrounded by his warm arms.
“This is pretty nice,” Eddie admits after a few minutes. Buck is idly playing with his hair with one hand and tracing patterns into his back with the other. “I’ve never.. I mean. Nobody’s ever held me like this.”
“Like what?” Buck asks, his voice rumbling comfortingly where Eddie feels it through his chest.
“Just to hold me,” Eddie says quietly, closing his eyes so he doesn’t have to see the imagined pity in Buck’s.
“Yeah, well,” Buck says firmly. “They’re all idiots, obviously. I’ll hold you every day if you want.”
“Yeah?” Eddie asks, pressing a kiss into the cotton above Buck’s heart. “You promise?”
Buck grins and hooks one calf over Eddie’s knee, holding him together with ease.
“Pinky-promise.”
The End
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Soft Smiles, Hopeful Hearts
Pairing: College Student! Best Friend! Loki Laufeyson x College Student! GN! Reader
Total Wordcount: 1.4K
Summary: For years, you and Loki have been in love with one another, but neither of you has taken the first step to take your relationship to the next level. This won't stop Thor from trying to get either one of you to take that step. When you two go to the spring dance together, his dream of seeing you two get your happily ever after might finally come true.
Tags & Warnings: Canon divergence | No powers AU | College AU | College Student! Loki | College Student! Thor | Genderneutral! Reader | College Student! Reader | Meddling best friend/brother | Childhood best friends to lovers | Mutual pining
Story Rating: G | General
Author's Note: This is my first story, which includes Loki and Thor, so I hope you will enjoy it! It was a hoot to write this, and I'm looking forward to what you all think of this story 💜
Writing Prompts @fandom-free-bingo Bug Edition: Dancing together @fandom-free-bingo Gingerbread Edition: Surprise kiss | Happily Ever After
Tag List: If you'd like to be tagged in my stories, you can find my tag list here.
My blog is for adults (18+) only, and most of its content is intended for mature audiences. Remember that you are responsible for your media consumption. If my content is not your cup of tea, feel free to navigate to blogs other than mine.
“I think you should ask them to go to the spring dance, Loki. You’re both head over heels in love with one another! And if you wait any longer, someone else might have asked before you. I’m not planning on seeing you sulk for weeks on end because you didn’t dare to ask Y/N to the dance,” Thor says, his thick Australian accent drifting through the library. He’s ‘studying’ with his brother, Loki, and some of their friends for an upcoming exam, but as usual, there’s more talking than studying happening.
“First- I’m not head over heels in love with anyone; I love them like a friend and nothing more-” Loki says, though the flush on his cheeks tells everyone something else entirely. You and Thor grew up next to one another, but when you were six, Odin and Frigga adopted a four-year-old Loki when his parents gave him up.
From that moment on, the three of you have been inseparable, and wherever one of you was, the other two were always close by. Over the years, the boys have grown rather protective of you, but while you and Thor have always remained friends, Loki has developed romantic feelings for you. However, he has never found the courage to admit this to you. What Loki doesn’t know is that you’re in love with him as well, and the only person who knows is Thor.
For years, he has been trying to get the two of you together, setting you two up on dates by first agreeing to go out with you both, then suddenly saying “something came up,” but to this day, nothing has happened. Despite this, he’s still trying to get his wish by seeing you two living Happily Ever After together, and he’ll try everything in his might to get his wish.
“And second, I don’t think I’m going to the dance. You and Y/N should go, though. They’ll love this year’s theme,” Loki says, his voice cracking a little at the thought of not going with you. His struggle to keep his emotions in check is evident, and he quickly bends himself over his textbook, which makes his raven black hair fall beside his face like a curtain.
“All I’m saying is that you’ll probably regret it if you don’t ask,” Thor shrugs before dropping the topic, instead moving on to the next College Football game this Saturday, as he is the team's quarterback. Loki has stopped listening for a while and is only snapped out of his thoughts when one of the chairs at the table moves back, only to be occupied by the most beautiful person he has ever seen: you.
“Hi! I hope it’s okay if I interrupt your studying, but I figured I’d bring you both some lunch,” you tell them with a chipper voice, making Loki’s heart swell with love and his mouth curl into a smile at the sight. You put down a brown bag in front of them, and Thor immediately rips it open to find a few meaty sandwiches, some with a plant-based spread, and some fruit and a black coffee on the side.
For Loki, you have made a salad with all his favorite toppings, with two apples and an iced coffee to go with it, and you’ve also put a little note in both of their lunches, just like you always do. It’s become a habit from when you were small because your mothers used to do it, and when all three of you moved into an apartment near the Campus, you started doing it as a joke, but now it is something they always look forward to.
“You never interrupt us,” Thor says in his rugged voice, and you smile at him before looking over at Loki as he reads his note. His eyes grow wide as they speed over the letters written in neat, dark green handwriting.
“Wait- Are you really asking me? Out of all people?” Loki asks, his tone unsure as he holds the note tightly in his hand. His heart races as he reads the words, “Loki, will you go to the Spring Dance with me?” and you nod enthusiastically. You and Thor have been talking about this moment for a few days, and eventually, he gave you the idea of slipping the question into his lunch with the note, which worked a charm.
“Well, I believe we should go and look at some outfits then because I’d love to go to the dance with you,” Loki says with a charming smile, his eyes sparkling with joy. You jump out of your chair to wrap your arms around his neck, hugging him tightly in the process. His long, nimble fingers clutching your shirt as if he’s afraid that you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. The entire time, Thor is looking at you both with a massive grin on his face, pride beaming off him the entire time.
The night of the Spring Dance has arrived, and you’re putting the finishing touches on your outfit. Loki has opted for an emerald green suit with subtle gold accents, and his hair is styled in a bun with a few loose pieces in the front to frame his pale features. As you look in the mirror, you admire your all-black outfit paired with a simple necklace Loki has gifted you, a small emerald hanging on it. He gifted it to you when you graduated high school together with Thor, and you’ve always worn it on special occasions.
“Are you ready for the reveal?” you ask before walking out of your bedroom, where Loki promised to be waiting on the other side of the closed door. After a soft ‘yes,’ you open the door, revealing your outfit to him, and you can’t help but take an extra look at him, as the suit he is wearing appears to be sculpted by gods. As the man in front of you takes in the sight, it’s like love at first sight all over again, and he cannot get enough of how you look.
“Wow,” he whispers before extending his hand and bringing yours to his lips to kiss it softly. As soon as his soft lips are on your skin, you feel your heart nearly leaping out of your chest from the surprise kiss, and your cheeks start burning in excitement.
“You look amazing too, Loki. You always look stunning in this green color,” you tell him, and his cheeks turn bright red as he looks away, wanting to hide his flushed cheeks. You two are still holding hands the entire time, and it feels very natural when you fully intertwine your fingers with his.
Then, as soon as you’re ready to go, Thor is dressed in a classic tuxedo, and Jane Foster, his date, is dressed in a classic red gown. Loki orders an Uber for you all to share. You’re excited about finally going on a date with someone you’ve been crushing on for a few years. It took a lot of courage to ask him finally, but as soon as the confirmation left his lips, you wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about that night.
The beginning of the night seems to go by in a blur as you’re spending it dancing, laughing, drinking, and having fun with Thor, Loki, and Jane. Then, the DJ starts a slow song, and Loki stretches his hand out again, silently asking for the two of you to dance together. A slight shock goes through your body when your hand touches his, and Loki smiles as he guides you to the dancefloor like a true gentleman.
“Are you enjoying yourself tonight?” he asks, his hands on your waist while yours are on his shoulders. You’ve rarely been this close to him, but you can’t get enough of the smell of his cologne and how his smile brightens his features each time he looks at you.
“I am, but it’s mostly thanks to you. It wouldn’t have been as fun without you here, Loki.”
Then, the one thing you’ve been dreaming about for a long time finally happens, and all you hear is the blood rushing in your ears and Thor screaming a loud ‘YES!’ as the two of you finally share your first kiss together. It has been long overdue, and it feels like perfection when you take your time to enjoy the moment. The moment feels like it’s over all too soon, but the smiles on your faces say it all: This is the beginning of your Happily Ever After, and you’re happy to be sharing it with Loki.
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#fandom free bingo: bug edition#fandom free bingo: gingerbread edition#loki laufeyson#loki laufeyson fluff#loki laufeyson fanfiction#loki laufeyson imagine#loki laufeyson x reader#loki laufeyson x genderneutral reader#loki laufeyson x y/n#loki laufeyson x you#loki#loki fluff#loki fanfiction#loki imagine#loki x reader#loki x genderneutral reader#loki x y/n#loki x you#marvel#marvel fluff#marvel fanfiction#marvel imagine#marvel x reader#marvel x genderneutral reader#marvel x y/n#marvel x you
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New redraws.
Today i have the opportunity to show several redrawings about my favorite moments of the first issue of The Heart of a Monster web comic.
The only reason i chose these panels is because they are similar to the original game (sonic unleashed).
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/32fe514f67dba269f07443c9f8b1a56c/0e71f2776604a3b7-2d/s540x810/6986c5e8a763bbcba69f1931e439afc861b85d5c.jpg)
Redraw number 1.
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Description; sonic the werehog fall's to the earth.
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/5933849baadd9310f82f3003a7d68943/0e71f2776604a3b7-60/s540x810/d9d662d572b5e15ae604161f9a78e940070c8ca2.jpg)
Redraw number 2.
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Description; sonic the werehog meet's chip.
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Comment; this other one cost me a little more.
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![Tumblr media](https://64.media.tumblr.com/58a5a6890b357719ab594934edfe5fbe/0e71f2776604a3b7-47/s540x810/47ca929a44e5839fa07b3d83fbfa2c625dffb5e6.jpg)
Redraw number 3.
Description; chip see's the ice cream "chocolate chip sundae surpreme" for the first time and he love's it.
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Comment; i like this one because chip look's so adorable with that face.
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Comment 2; i was originally going to redraw the entire panel but in the end i discarded it for being lazy, sorry.😥
P,d; i still don't know if i'll do more redrawings about the next issue's, because maybe could be considered spoilers ¿what do you think?.
#fanart#my art#thoam#sonic the hedghog fanart#artists on tumblr#sonic fanart#fan comic#web comic#werehog fanart#sonic#sonic the hedgehog#sonic werehog#sonic unleashed fan art#chip#light gaia#thoam fanart#sonic the hedghog fandom#sonic the werehog
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Sorry to tag on here but I'm hoping to provide a different perspective.
For anyone who has been here a while, understands the anonymous posters frustrations. We have all lived this over and over again. But having seen this play out over the years, I've just sort accepted that this is as far as he and his team can take him. I don't say this with any malice or any loss of faith in Louis' abilities, talents or perserverance. I believe anything is possible of him.
But, and it's a big but, his team can only deliver him so far. The one ongoing issue that has handicapped every marketing/pr team that turns up to promote Louis is his past. Whatever that nail in the coffin was that prevents his music from being played on the radio, still exists and no amount of pr will undo that damage.
What they have succeeded in doing outside of the convential, mainstream efforts, has been pretty good. Not perfect, but good. They have tried, over the years to tie him to different markets to bring in new fans organically. The Eurocup a few years ago, exposing him to soccer/football fans. The F1 racing circuit and adding his music to their playlists. An entire summer of festivals providing huge exposure to new fans. And now the NFL/Super Bowl. The fact that mainstream media hasn't clapped on to his presence, is not his teams fault. His name is in the press releases but no one outside of his fandom knows him in the US (without the 1D qualifier). And it's relatively unlikely, seeing him is going interest anyone in his music, especially since he's not performing.
Ultimately, everything that they've done over the years has been in an attempt to reach a wider audience. More indie; more male; more general public without much success. But part of the effort means that Louis has to be accessible. He has to be everywhere. He has to attend award show after parties and walk red carpets and do photo spreads, on top of all of the stuff he's already doing. He has to play the fucking game and almost overexpose himself because he doesn't have the luxury of his music/radio play/streaming or viral TT mementum to push him forward in the public consciousness.
And part of me believes he's not willing to do that. Mostly because he's been there, done that, but also because the gamble of overexposure without the music exposure/cred behind him, may not pay off and he's left just being "that 1D guy" who shows up everywhere. And that's not a good look or a good feeling.
Louis is proud. He knows he's talented. He knows he has what it takes, he's willing to work for it and he has the confidence to pull off anything but ulimately, success or fail, he has to also have the mainstream radio championing him on as well. And sadly, I feel, that ship has sailed. I don't see that changing in the immediate future with LT3. I pray to god every night that I'm wrong. I want to be wrong. I need to be wrong. For his sake and all of ours.
So here we sit, facing the same reality we did 7-8 years ago, blaming his team because what else can we do? They've thrown everything they can at it and it's not moving the needle. Not in streams/listeners, not in radio play and sadly not even in viral moments on TT.
So my shift in perspective is this. I focus on what he has; what he has built for himself over the last several years. I focus on seeing Louis happy. I focus on him loving the music he is making. I focus on him thriving during tour and living out his dream performing at festivals.
We don't know what he wants in his heart of hearts, so we can't "he deserves more" away the reality of the industry he works in. If they wanted him to have mainstream success he'd have it. We all know "deserving it' means shit in an industry that prioritize $$ and celeb culture over talent and work ethic.
Plenty of artists would kill for a career like Louis' and he knows this. So he takes what he has and shows his gratitude for it and us. And if it gets him a few more fans or some sort of recognition for his efforts, he's happy but ultimately will keep on doing his own thing. So regardless of what comes next, I am excited to see what the future holds.
I apologize for the long-winded reply. I hope it helps even the tiniest bit to alleviate the frustrations we've all felt over the years.
#peace
Hi Gina, hope you're doing well!!
I've sent you similar asks a couple of times before over the years, but everytime I see it I just can't help but express my frustration. As someone who works in marketing and hears the words "do something that'll go viral" almost everyday from different brands, I get so disappointed in Louis's PR.
Everytime he comes back in the news a little again I get my hopes up thinking that it might actually lead to something but then it just suddenly stops. I feel like his team doesn't actually have a marketing plan and they just wake up one day wanting to make Louis's name trend and then forget about it or get bored after a week.
Even now - going to Zayn's show (not saying it was completely for PR, but definitely planned), then the walls promo, collaborating with youtube and spotify instagram pages, and now going to the superbowl which will be filled with celebrities (you cannot make me believe ever that he's actually there for the American football) - it's all to get him in the news. But why? My guess it for absolutely nothing!!
As always he'll be active for a bit and disappear again, having done all this for nothing, because I don't see an album or even a single coming anytime soon, so this bit of PR will also be forgotten like everything else!!
It took me a couple years, but I've given up all hope in his team at this point!! I really really hope he meets some better people at some point who can position him better, because he definitely deserves and has the potential for it!!
Sorry for the rant. Have a great day!!!!
Hi sweetheart. I was actually just talking about this with @apparentlybychance yesterday. Ah was saying she was checking his social mentions (or whatever the hell it’s called) and he had a huge spike when he went to Zayn’s show, and then nothing. And he’s barely been mentioned in connection to the Super Bowl.
I have no idea what his team is doing. The meet up with fans seemed only for fandom. The Super Bowl attendance isn’t making a blip outside of fandom. It’s just weird.
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Been thinking about Edgar again (when am I not thinking about him let's be real), here's my most recent thoughts:
You can try to talk to him while he's tinkering, but the most you'll get in response is "hmm" and you're more likely to just not be heard at all. He's not ignoring you, he's in The Zone.
Hums/sings quietly to himself sometimes, if anyone catches him he gets flustered. His singing voice is nice.
Would absolutely be willing to dress in drag if the situation needed him to do so.
I'm still convinced he enjoyed being in disguise as Gerad, at least a little bit, but he might only admit it under influence of alcohol.
He may have been a gang boss, but Edgar will always be Edgar regardless of the situation (as evidenced by his flirting with Celes while trying to convince her he's not Edgar lmao). I think he probably started to care for the crimson robbers and felt a little bad about using them, and that's partially why he didn't do anything to stop them from actually raiding the castle vault. (Don't worry, there's more than one vault and Figaro isn't completely broke. Also with all the treasure and gil the party racked up while grinding they'll be fine.)
Post-game, when he's not busy helping with reparations in the world of ruin they're still living in, he designs things that can help people. They're essentially still in a post-apocalyptic scenario even after Kefka is defeated, and while the world is likely healing without his influence, it's going to take a long time. So they probably need things like filtration for the water, irrigation systems to make farmland viable again, reinforced walls to protect towns from whatever monsters still roam the wilderness. Figaro with their technological prowess can provide these things, and many of them are personally designed by the machinist king himself.
He also likes to personally handle problems in South Figaro if/when when he can, like if there's a den of monsters nearby and the mayor hired mercenaries that haven't been able to clear it out, he and Sabin (and probably their friends as well, I refuse to believe they all just went their separate ways) will go and take care of it.
I think he'd also want to design tools that can do some of the cool things he could do with magic. Flamethrower, ice blaster, rejuvinator for quick healing, etc (basically his brave exivus abilities). There's nothing magic could do that he can't build something for, the man's a technological genius.
I really love that he's genuinely very smart, like, he dresses extravagantly and flirts with everyone and can be a bit silly but he's still smart enough to design crazy weapons and machines. Good for him.
He and Locke are the kind of friends who tease each other but also have serious conversations about their trauma and insecurities (probably over fine wine pilfered from the castle cellar by a certain treasure hunter). Also they've definitely made out at some point, possibly more than once.
Edgar personally visits Mobliz to check on Terra and the kids frequently, and he also volunteers the money and workers required to build a proper home for them. He'd also absolutely want to teach the older kids how to build and repair things. I think he'd be a great teacher.
#i still love this game with my entire heart#and i still love Edgar with my entire heart#so here have my thoughts about him#final fantasy vi#ff6#final fantasy 6#ffvi#edgar roni figaro#my post#it is mobliz terra is in isnt it#or did i misremember
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