#it’s supposed to get better after today at least

[roosterforme]

Aim for the Sky Part 31 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Everything starts to get very real once you're able to feel the baby move. It's time to share the news of your second pregnancy with family and friends, but it's hard to feel elated when Bradley starts showing attention to one of his pilots after work hours.

Warnings: Angst, adult language, body image, DILF Roo, oral sex, pregnancy topics, mentions abortion, lactation kink, jealousy, drinking

Length: 3600 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Aim for the Sky masterlist. This was written to accompany my series Is It Working For You? along with a bunch of my one-shots and other series, but it can be read on its own! Check my masterlist for the reading order.

If you weren't pregnant and exhausted, Bradley would have been concerned by how quiet you were. You seemed to need a nap as soon as you got home from work, and then you wanted to go to bed right after Rose went down in her crib each evening. When he got home quite late on Friday after working on some transfer paperwork for several hours, he was surprised to find that you seemed a little more upbeat than usual.

"Hey, Roo."

You were wearing a pair of his gym shorts while you made dinner. The house smelled delicious, and his stomach started growling as soon as he walked inside. He picked Rose up from her playmat, taking her into the kitchen as he smothered her in kisses before transferring them to you.

"You feeling okay? How's Nugget Part Deux?"

"We're exhausted. Rose is the only one with energy right now."

He supposed that was better than you telling him you couldn't stop throwing up. So far, baby number two seemed to be giving you less grief when it came to eating. "We can nap all weekend," he promised. "How was your day?"

"Pretty good," you told him with a shrug. "How was your day?"

He glanced out the back door at the enormous jungle gym, eyeing it up as an option for him and Rose to play after dinner. "Just busy. Everyone keeps me on my toes all day long. These pilots are really talented."

You seemed to wrinkle your nose at his words, staring at the food cooking on the stove as you muttered, "I'll bet they are."

Rose seemed keen on the idea of the backyard, so he kissed her soft cheek. "Yeah, I can barely keep up with them in the air, but don't tell them that. I've got my head on a swivel the whole time. Indigo and Rex nearly took me out today, and I had to go into a dive. And starting on Monday, I'm going to give myself some extra office hours to stay on top of my paperwork."

Instead of responding about his day, you started to dish out the food onto two plates with your back turned to him. "After we eat, I need to call my parents before it's too late. They're putting their house on the market next week, and I think I'm just going to tell them I'm pregnant and get it over with. I've put it off long enough."

Bradley's brow creased. "They'll be excited though. Right? I mean, maybe not as excited as me, but still excited."

You shrugged again, and he thought he might lose his mind if you kept doing it. "Aren't you at least a little worried there could be some sort of complications from having them so close together?"

A sardonic laugh almost burst from his lips. "Baby Girl, I worry about you and Rosie and the new baby constantly. Okay? Nonstop. But we can't go back now. You're already almost in the second trimester. Hey," he said, swallowing hard as you finally turned and looked at him. He held Rose just a little tighter as he whispered, "We're married. We're happy, right? You're not actually thinking about ending your pregnancy, are you?"

"No," you replied quickly, shaking your head. Bradley desperately wanted to know if there was some way he could make this easier for you, because he didn't want you to resent what was happening. But you just started crying as you shrugged again. "I just feel like our timing is terrible. And I know I have to start telling people, because I'm already showing a little bit, but I'm just so frustrated, Bradley."

He never dreamed the two of you would go from trying for months to get pregnant with Rose to being frustrated about a second pregnancy, but here you were. "I realize you've got to do most of the work right now, but when I tell you that I want another baby and that I'm excited about this, I mean it."

"I know!" you whispered quickly. "I know." You swiped at your tears before wrapping your arms around him and Rose.

"Is something else bothering you?" he murmured when your cheek came to rest on his bicep. He couldn't imagine what else could be the matter, but he needed to make sure. 

You were silent for a few beats before whispering, "I'm fine. Let's facetime my parents."

For how excited your mom was to move to California, she didn't seem to notice that your eyes looked like you'd been crying. She kept talking about selling their furniture and packing everything up. She mentioned how much she wanted to see Rose in person as she fussed over her on the video call. Just as she was starting to discuss their new house in Coronado that would make them his neighbors, Bradley heard you blurt out, "I'm pregnant."

Your parents both looked stunned on the other end of the call. "You're pregnant," your mom said, eyes drifting back to Rose in Bradley's arms. "Already?"

Now both parents were staring at Bradley as he said, "Yeah... due in April."

"April Fool's Day," you said softly.

Your parents broke out into twin grins. "I'm assuming this was a surprise to the two of you?" your dad asked. When you nodded silently, he added, "A happy surprise at least! Congratulations. You're about to have your hands very full."

"It's a good thing we're moving!" your mom practically shrieked. "Two under two! Two babies! What if you have twins?"

"We're not," Bradley replied. Then he froze. "It's not twins. Right, Sweetheart?" Now he was a little scared as you turned to look at him and laugh.

"There was just one heartbeat, Roo. Just one."

His shoulders sagged in relief. "I mean, the more the merrier, but that would be a lot."

He let Rose nap against his chest while he rubbed circles against your lower back, and soon enough, your parents were ending the call with the promise that they would be in Coronado for Christmas. "We'll either be living there by then or we'll fly out for the holiday if our house here hasn't sold yet."

Everything sounded good to Bradley, and five minutes after the call ended, you fell asleep on him, too.

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

When you fell asleep on Cam's shoulder at brunch on Sunday, you figured it was time to tell him and Maria what was going on.

"I'm pregnant. Again."

Maria jumped out of her seat to cram into the opposite of the booth, sandwiching you between her and Cam. "Damn, girl! You've wasted no time!"

"Lieutenant Commander Mustache is working with some high fucking quality goods, huh?" Cam marveled, shaking his head slowly in reverence. "Congratulations."

"Thanks," you whispered, voice harsh and near tears. You had no control over your emotions. This was just like when you were pregnant with Rose, but with less vomiting and more fatigue. Everything made you upset enough that you wanted to cry or angry enough that you wanted to kick down a door. Including your husband.

You answered Cam and Maria's questions as you thought about that woman you'd seen around base with Bradley a few times. They were never alone, always part of a larger group, but you didn't like how she looked at him. And you didn't want to mention it to him, because you knew how ridiculous it was going to sound.

"Hey, I'm really tired," you eventually told your friends. "Do this again in two weeks?" You wanted to go home and nap while Bradley still had Rose out for a walk along the beach. You just wanted to be alone.

"Of course," Maria promised. "I'll text Bob to come pick me up, but you two can go on ahead."

"I'll wait with you," Cam told her, giving you a kiss on the cheek.

You made your way out and went home, leaning against the front door in relief when you found the house completely empty. Even Tramp and his yellow leash were gone. You ran to bed, curled up under the covers, and cradled your hand against your belly. It was impossible to tell if you had a baby bump, or if you were still chubby from last time. 

Your thumb ran along the top of your leggings as you started to cry. You needed to pull yourself together. Did you cry this much with Rose? Did everything make you feel like you looked disgusting? Eventually you dozed for about an hour before the sound of the front door closing jolted you awake. Rose started screaming, probably hungry after being out for so long. You rolled out of bed, avoiding your reflection in the mirror at all costs, and went to meet them in the kitchen.

Bradley was trying to bounce Rose to keep her quiet, but you yanked your shirt off and reached for her. "Sorry," he muttered as your daughter latched on to eat as soon as she was touching you. "I tried."

"It's okay." 

You fed one baby while you considered that her younger sibling was growing inside you, and for once, you couldn't figure out if you wanted to laugh or cry. 

While she ate, Bradley looked at his phone and groaned. "Nat wants us to go to the Hard Deck tonight."

The idea of going out and pretending that you were drinking alcohol was too much to handle. Even if you could find someone to watch Rose, it didn't sound like a fun time.

"You go," you told him.

He glanced up and said, "I don't want to go without you."

A smile graced your lips as you told him, "Just go for one drink with your best friend. I'll drop you off and pick you up. You can tell her I'm pregnant if you want to."

"Really?" he asked, perking up like Tramp did when presented with a treat.

"Yeah. I told Maria and Cam earlier. I actually fell asleep on his shoulder in the booth, and when I woke up, they were both gaping at me. I figured I needed to say something."

Bradley snorted. "What did they have to say about Bradshaw Baby number two?"

"Cam is under the impression that you are working with some high quality equipment."

He burst into laughter. "I mean..."

You rolled your eyes as Rose switched to your other side. It was easy to feel better about things when it was just the three of you at home. You looked at your husband as he ate an apple in four bites and convinced yourself he would never do anything to hurt you. Then he drank half a beer and belched while he adjusted his junk, and you thought perhaps nobody else would want to deal with him anyway.

"I'll text Nat back. Then I'll pull the weeds around the playset while I decide what I'm doing about the bar."

You let Rose take a nap, but now that you'd also had one, you felt a little restless. Even after you did a few chores, including looking at items for a second baby nursery online, you wanted to get out of the house again. When Bradley came inside, stripping his sweaty shirt over his head, he said, "One drink. Don't leave me there too long, okay?"

"Is Jake going, too? Maybe I'll see if Cat and Jer are home and want visitors."

"That's a great idea," he replied, taking your hand when he walked past. When he gave you a little tug, you didn't move. "You coming?" he asked, clearly puzzled. 

"Where?"

"What do you mean where?" he scoffed, tugging again. "To take a shower with me while Rose naps. Where else?"

It was hard to think about anything when your husband was on his knees in front of you, steamy water swirling around his tattooed bicep while his hands pinned you to the tile wall. But it was especially hard to focus on anything other than the feel of his mouth on your body. The scrape of his mustache. The pull of his lips. Soft and demanding and needy.

"Roo," you gasped, lungs full of the humid air, sucking in deep breaths as he looked up at you.

"God, Baby Girl," he rasped, thumb teasing your dainty rooster tattoo. "I'm so spoiled. Your tits look so pretty, and your belly will be big again soon."

You let your fingers drag through his wet curls, pushing them back from his forehead while he kissed the spot where you felt so tender as the baby grew.

"Roo!" you gasped, your hands both flying to your belly. "The baby! I can feel the baby moving!"

"Shit, really?"

His eyes were wide, alert with anticipation as you moved his palm to the spot where you could feel squirming. He eased himself closer on his knees, the shower hitting both of you with warm spray while he let you guide him. You felt it again, just another squirm as you pressed his palm harder to your belly.

"Right there," you whispered, and he closed his eyes. Your heart beat in your ears, an undeniably excited rhythm.

"I can't wait to feel it, too," he murmured, his cheek coming to rest against his hand. "You couldn't feel Rose this early."

"No," you agreed, watching your husband fall even more in love with the unborn baby. "Maybe another week or two and they'll be big enough for you to feel it." You played with his hair, letting him stay put until the water started to get cold.

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

"I'll pick you up in a little while," you informed Bradley when you pulled into the parking lot at the Hard Deck. "Jake is already here, so I'll take Rose to hang out with Cat and Jer for a bit."

"Sounds good." He kissed you before unbuckling and leaning into the backseat to kiss his daughter. He was still shocked and in a mild daze over the baby moving during the shower. He wanted to feel those kicks against his palm, and now he'd be all over you in the upcoming weeks, looking for his chance. 

"Have fun," you called before pulling away in your Bronco, but going to the bar to hang out without you was not his idea of a great night. He decided he'd just wait and see how the evening progressed before making a decision about telling Nat about the pregnancy. He smiled as he wondered how long it would be until you had to start wearing the maternity tent to work again.

"There you are!" shouted Nat when he walked past the bar, waving to Penny. "We're about to play pairs. You're with Hangman. Rack 'em, Rooster."

Bradley sighed and took the pool cue as she thrust it into his hand. "Can't I get a beer first?"

She turned and shouted, "Hey, Coyote! Get Rooster one!"

Javy saluted him from the bar as Bradley nodded and settled in to start the game. He and Jake wouldn't even have to try too hard to beat Nat and Reuben, but as he got into the groove of things, he realized he was having a pretty good time.

"You want another?" Jake asked him, and soon one beer turned into three. Bradley ended up buying the fourth round for his friends when Mickey arrived. He had enough in his system to not give a shit when Jake started ribbing on him for his new position at work.

"The way your students all jump to attention when they see you has got to be the funniest fucking thing I've ever seen in my life," he drawled, and Bradley nudged his foot, making him miss his shot.

"I'm still in shock that Cat agreed to marry you," Bradley replied before taking a sip of beer.

Jake rolled his eyes. "I'm surprised Angel let you get her pregnant. Shocked the baby didn't come out with a mustache."

Nat was cackling while Bradley snorted. "She's pregnant again." The words slipped out, but they felt too fucking good on his tongue, just like your body had in the shower.

"What?!"

He was instantly surrounded by his friends while Nat wrapped him up in a hug. "Are you serious? Another one so soon?" she asked with a suspicious looking smirk.

"Yeah," he replied, letting her squeeze him until he thought she might displace a rib. "Apparently I'm working with some high quality equipment."

"Ew!" Nat shrieked, letting go of him while Jake shook his hand. 

"Poor Angel," he drawled. "She'll have another little Bradshaw on the loose soon."

"Whiskey shots on me," Reuben said, slapping Bradley hard on the back.

"Thanks, man," he replied while conversation about the baby settled to a normal volume. He drank his shot of whiskey, and that's when he realized he was actually kind of drunk.

The game of pool wore on, but nobody seemed to be keeping track of who won. So he kept going until his phone vibrated in his jeans pocket.

Baby Girl Bradshaw: I'm almost there. Rose fell asleep.

"I have to run," Bradley announced, dropping his cue into Jake's hand. 

"You're so fucking whipped," Jake drawled. "Get out of here and knock your wife up again.... oh, wait."

Bradley gave him and everyone else double middle fingers behind his back as he walked toward the exit. He was tired and warm and buzzed, and he wanted to curl up next to you in bed and kiss the back of your neck. And maybe you'd let him look at your gorgeous tits. Maybe if he was really good, you'd let him taste you. The evening air hit his body, igniting so much need in him.

"Oh, sorry," he grunted, nearly plowing over someone in his rush to get to the parking lot.

"Lieutenant Commander Bradshaw," came a now familiar voice. Blue eyes flashed up at him along with a smile that kept growing.

Indigo was dressed in street clothes, but he tried not to take notice as he nodded. "I knew you'd find The Hard Deck without my help."

She laughed, bright and clear as he tried to step past her. "Don't tell me you're leaving for the night."

A little pout found her lips, and Bradley nodded. "Yeah. It's getting late for a Sunday."

"Come on," she whined, the back of her hand brushing his as he made his way around her. "Let me buy you one drink."

His mind was still gooey with thoughts of taking you to bed as he shook his head. "Thanks, but I really need to go. Enjoy your night."

Then Nat burst through the door, movements slowing when she met his eyes. "You left your phone on the pool table." She tossed it to him, coordination pretty good for how much she'd had to drink. She started backing up toward the door as she said, "You better go home with your pregnant wife!"

Bradley smiled at his friend, but he could feel Indigo's eyes on him as he stepped off the deck toward the parking lot. And there you were, standing in the first aisle with your back against the red Bronco. Your lips were set in a firm line, and Bradley was about to make it his personal mission to kiss away that expression.

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

That younger woman was here with him. You'd seen her around base plenty of times lately, but now she was here. At the Hard Deck. At your favorite bar in your neighborhood. She was with your husband at the bar. They were already standing there together when you drove up and parked.

"Who is that woman?" you snapped at Bradley who was clearly drunk. His hands were all over your waist and hips as soon as he reached you.

"Hey, Sweetheart." His voice was deep and sexy, and you wanted nothing more than to melt into him, but she was still staring you down.

"Who. Is. She?" you hissed, your eyes starting to burn with unshed tears as you stared back. Bradley was kissing your neck now as the woman finally turned and went inside the bar. You already knew who she was. You were sure of it. You'd heard him use her call sign countless times, but you wanted him to say it now. "Bradley!"

"Huh?" he grunted, meeting your eyes.

"Who is that woman you were just with?"

"Natasha?" he asked, and you wanted to scream.

"The other woman, Bradley."

"Oh. That's Indigo."

Your heart sank as soon as he confirmed it for you, but he didn't seem to notice or care that you suddenly felt like your skin was on fire. That woman who was still so fresh out of flight school was already a top pilot, and she was beautiful, and she wanted your husband.

"Baby Girl," he moaned next to your ear. "Let's go home. Maybe we can get in bed and snuggle while I try to feel the baby move? Or you could let me finish what we started in the shower? I'm already so wound up."

You opened the passenger side door for him, slamming it shut as soon as he was inside. You glared at the entrance to the Hard Deck before heading around the Bronco to drive him home.

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

Either way, it still looks bad, Bradley. We are riding along with all of BG's emotions, and it's a lot to handle. Thanks for reading. More coming soon. Thanks @beyondthesefourwalls

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[sweetdispatch]

The card - Q. Hughes

6 days of kinkmas

pairing: Quinn Hughes x girlfriend!reader

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

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

words: 1.8k

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

---

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Sunflower” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[kimmryokoo]

Late Night - logan howlet

author: kim ryoko

masterlist

summary: logan was supposed to go to a mission that would only last 3 days. unfortunately, it took longer then expected. your birthday went by quicly and you were already sleeping when logan returned. you both really missed each other and you let a kiss turn into something bigger...

word count: 3k

warnings: figeting, smut, filthy, reader has no appetite, slight possibility of death (doesn't happend), teasing, sub reader, little fluff at the end

author's note: english isn't my first language so I'm sorry for ay grammar mistakes, feel free to correct me. I'm so sorry it took me this long to publish something. I've been really busy lately. my birthday was on december 13th (the same as taylor swift🤭), so I wrote this as a sort of birthday present.

It's been days since you last saw Logan. He was out on a mission with Scott and Jean, and they left exactly 7.5 days ago when it was supposed to only last 3 days. You missed Logan very much, and tomorrow was your birthday so you were rooting for Logan and the rest of the team to arrive the night before or in the morning of the day.

It was already 11pm the day before your birthday and you were still waiting for your friends and lover to arrive while sitting in a bench on the jet garage and you then heard the big and thick metal doors sliding to open and the sound of wheels caught your attention.

“You're still here? It's getting late. You should head to bed and get a good night's sleep. Big day tomorrow.” Charles said.

“I'm just waiting for them to arrive.” you spoke with a tone filled with exhaustion, worry, hope and love, all at the same time.

“Unfortunately, I don't think they'll come back today.”

“What makes you say that, professor?”

“If they were to return, Jean would've reached to me and reported everything that happened while they were out on the mission, but she hasn't yet.” Charles argued and got a bit closer to you, now sitting next to you and putting an understanding hand on your back.

“I really wanted to spend tomorrow with them.” you said in a sad voice.

“I know. But the only thing you can do right now is go to sleep and get energized for when they do come back.” he stated in his always calm tone.

“You're right. Thank you, professor.” and before you got up to leave the room, you gave a loose hug to the older man that has supported you through so many things.

It was now the next day, 6:30 a.m. and your alarm went on with his job of waking you up. His loud rings easily made their way to your ears and woke you up with a symphony that reminded you a lot of screaming babies. To end your suffering, you quickly moved your hand to turn off the alarm.

You sat up and stared at the place where your feet were hidden under the blanket. You then looked to your side and saw the cold, empty bed you wished was filled by Logan.

You sighed and got up to prepare yourself a bath to give you enough fuel to go through the day.

After you got out of the shower and put on some clothes, you packed everything you needed for the day and when you were packing the notebook where you plan your classes, you saw something written on the page the notebook was opened, and it looked like Logan’s lettering.

‘ Hey. So, I'm pretty sure this mission ain't gonna take 3 days like those dip heads are saying, so I'm writing a note for your birthday, so you can at least hear from me that day.I know that the day you're reading this is your birthday day, because I can see the date of the classes you planned in here. First of all, happy birthday, and I want you to know that I love you. A lot. And you're honestly the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I also want you to know that if I'm not there for your birthday, I'm dying of how much I miss you. I really hope you have a great day and that I get to see you or at least talk to you today. Love ya.

-Lo ’

Wow. Even when he's away, he somehow manages to make your day better.

You read the note and felt your heart swell with love for that man.

You finished packing everything and stepped outside the room and only a few steps later you were attacked by someone who came running towards you from your back and back-hugged you.

“Happy Birthday!” you heard the person whom you then knew was Ororo from her voice.

You turned to your friend and she immediately hugged you properly. Your smile grew wider from all the care your friend was giving you.

“Thank you, Ororo.”

“I got you a present! But I’m only going to give it to you at the end of the day.” the white haired woman said while breaking the hug and holding both your hands to continue touching you somehow.

“Then why would you tell me now?! You’re going to make me anxious all day!” you said in a pout tone but with a smile on your lips as you squeezed your friend’s hands harder.

“I know you have classes to teach, and so have I so I’m not going to take your precious time.” she grinned and kissed my cheek “Have a great day and happy birthday again!” She continued and started walking towards the direction she came from whilst waving a small ‘good-bye’ to which you responded with the same gesture and a kind and grateful smile.

You quickly arrived at your class and from that moment forward, that day was filled with people saying ‘Happy Birthday’ to you and many ‘Happy birthday’ songs.

At the end of all your classes, you decided to head back to the jet garage to wait for the team, since they haven’t arrived yet. While you were sitting on the same bench as the day before, you heard the same sound as you’ve heard the day before - heavy metal doors sliding open and metal wheels going your direction.

“What a Déjà vu, huh?” you said playfully to Charles, who chuckled softly at your statement.

“I would also say so myself. I presume you're here doing the same thing as you were yesterday?”

“Yeah.” you said looking down. The truth was that your day had been amazing, but it still felt a bit empty without Logan.

“Have you had dinner yet? It’s almost 8 p.m. .”

“No, I came here right after my classes finished. I’m just so worried. They should’ve been back by now. What if something bad happened? What if they…?”

“I’m sure it hasn’t. Have a little more faith in them. Go eat something and then I’ll let you come back here, but you have to promise me you’ll go to sleep at least by 11 p.m.”

“Fine.” you responded with a tone of defeat and got up to walk to the kitchen.

You tried your best to eat a normal sized meal, but you were too worried to eat anything. You stared at your plate with a small amount of mach-and-cheese and stirred it for about 30 minutes. It took you a long time to eat all of your food, but eventually you finished and cleaned the mess you made.

You left the kitchen and saw the rest of the mansion in complete darkness. You know your way around, and your heart was telling you to go back downstairs and wait for Logan a little longer but you also knew that whether you wanted to or not, you'd make noise that would probably wake someone up and that would make you feel bad. You glance back at the clock on the kitchen wall and see it’s almost 10 p.m. and consider going straight to bed and not risking waking up any student that might make your day 10 times worse tomorrow. You end up going to your room, since you’re also pretty tired from your day.

Once you closed your bedroom door, you started doing your night routine and only a few moments after you lay on your bed, you fell asleep.

You later woke up to what sounded like a door opening and closing. And then another door opened and closed.

You looked around the room and found nothing wrong. It must've been in your dream, so you went back to sleep.

You woke up again, but this time with an arm wrapping around your waist and you supported your weight on your elbow and turned slightly just to see Logan’s exhausted face looking at you with apologizing eyes from his pillow.

“Logan!” you said happily and hugged the man tightly while burying your face in his neck.

“Hey, sweetheart. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you!” you said and pulled a bit back to look at Logan’s face.

You leaned forward to lightly press your lips against his. That soft kiss was deepened when his hand grabbed the the back of your neck and pulled you to him. He was quick to change you positions so that he was on top. One of Logan’s hands supported his weight on the mattress near your face while the other one roamed free through your body squeezing your skin. You felt Logan’s tongue against your lips and didn't hesitate to let it in.

“You have no idea how much I missed ya.” Logan said in between kisses with a rough and starved tone that made you moan against his mouth.

In response to your sound, you felt his hips pressuring against yours while his free hand wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel how hard he was beneath his pants and you never wanted something so bad like you did in that moment.

Logan’s mouth didn't restrain only your mouth. It also traveled to your neck and collarbones and you then smelled the scent of his shampoo. That's why you heard 2 doors opening and closing. One of them was your bedroom door and the other one was the bathroom's. It made sense now.

All that sense was rapidly taken away from you when you felt his bulge starting to move against your clothed pussy.

“Ahh… Logan…” you moaned “Please…” you finished.

“What, darlin’? Tell me. Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you, birthday girl.”

“I… I want you…”

“Where?” he asked “Here?” he said, faking innocence while rubbing stripes on top of your shorts.

“Y-yes…” you said with flushed cheeks.

“Well then. Imma have to take this off.” He said and sat up on his knees to smoothly rip your shorts out of you to find out you weren't wearing any underwear.

“Oh fuck, princess. You'll be the death of me. I've been gone for over a week and come back to you all wet like this? Do you know how hard it is to control myself when all I could smell was this neddy pussy since you saw me?” he asked. His face gets closer with each word. Almost close enough to kiss you.

“Then don't.” you said breathless and softly. You then leaned a bit forward to lick his lips and made them open just a small bit.

You saw the way his eyes darkened in pure lust and you felt it in the way he kissed you - with so much passion and need.

Logan only broke the kiss to sit back up on his knees to rip your shirt off, letting your chest free.

“Why’d you rip all my clothes off?” you asked with your breath taken from the way he took your nipples in his mouth which made you back ark for more.

“My present.” he stated in a low tone.

“But it’s my birthday…” you answered with your eyes closed and a moan escaping your lips when you were done talking.

“Your birthday, my present.”

Logan continued to play with you for a few minutes when you felt a knot on your stomach.

“Lo, I’m close…”

With that, Logan stopped paying attention to your breasts and took his hand to your core, rubbing circles on your clit with his thumb and slowly inserting his index and middle finger on your clenching hole.

You almost screamed out of pleasure when you felt Logan’s fingers moving inside you and scissoring you open to prepare you. You soon came undone under the felling of the friction of his long, thick and calloused hands inside your pussy.

Logan pulled back his body, taking his fingers out of your hole and putting them in his mouth for a brief second, sucking them.

“The sweetest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever tasted.” he uttered.

He then proceeded to put those same fingers inside your mouth, this time.

“Suck.” he demanded, and when you did as he ordered, he continued “Atta girl.”

With his free hand, he pulled down his pants and his cock immediately sprung free, slapping against his abs, with veins popping out and precum leaking from the tip. Logan then slowly stroked his length to lubricate it while you watched with saliva dripping from the corners of your mouth and your core getting wetter with every passing second, even though you just cummed.

Logan grabbed his cock by the base and aligned it with your hole, pushing bit by bit, inch by inch, until you were a moan and whimper mess. Once he bottomed you out, you moaned into his digits.

“Such a pretty little fuckin’ slut” he said as his gaze stared intensely to where your bodies met, watching you clench around him in an oh so delicious way.

Logan pulled back his hips to immediately rock them back into yours, making the thrilling sound of his skin slapping against yours fill your ears and your brain. Logan’s pace started slow - always careful not to hurt you - but you could tell it was different then usual. He was rougher than normal, eating you out with more urgency.

“You have no idea how good it feels to be inside this pussy again.” he groaned at the end of the sentence.

Logan’s pace sped up as he started to seek for the pleasure of his high that he had felt coming since he began fucking you. Logan knew that after so many days of only cumming with his hand while thinking of in his tend don't even compare to the feel of being inside you and that once he felt it again, he wouldn’t be able to hold on for long.

Logan took a moment to stop thinking about anything and look at you. Really look at you. The way your hair was messy because of the pillow, the way your forehead was sweating more than usual from thee over-stimulation, the way your eyes rolled to the back of your head every time he pounded inside you, the way your cheeks where flustered and got more red every time he praised you, the way your beautiful lips where glossy and red from all the sucking and that pretty string of saliva dripping in your cheek, the way your neck was marked from his hard work, the way your tits bounced up and down rhythmically with the times he fucked himself into you and the hickeys and red spots here and there, the way your clit was swollen and over-sensitive, the way your pussy wrapped around his cock so perfectly and clenched around him making him feel like he was in heaven, the way your sweet noises filled the room and you the way you called his name like it was a prayer. Fuck… Logan couldn’t take it anymore.

He grabbed your legs and put them on his shoulders, giving him better access to your g-spot and bending even further to kiss you. The kiss was rugged but held all the feelings he felt when he was alone in his cold sleeping bag in the inside of his tent while listening to Scott and Jean doing what he would kill to be doing with you.

“Lo… I-I’m coming again…”

“That’s it. Come for me princess.”

And, you did as you were told.

As soon as he felt you coming apart on his cock, he couldn’t resist it anymore and filled you up.

“Good girl. Always doing as you’re told.” he said in a teasing and low voice in which you only responded with another moan.

Logan helped you ride both your highs and you both soon came completely. He then let himself fall to your side, burying his head into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you for the present.” you said with a smile on your face as you lifted up your hand to play with his hair.

Logan chuckled and asked “You think this is your present? I told you it was mine. My fucking present for putting up with Scott and Jean for so long without leaving them there and coming back here to your arms.”

You laughed.

“I wouldn’t have minded that.”

“Noted. I’ll be sure to do it next time.” he joked and you felt his smile against your neck and you laughed again.

“Where’s my present, then?”

“Such an impatient girl.” he said as he pushed himself up, kissed you and grabbed a small box from his nightstand, all without coming out of you.

“Here you go, birthday girl.” He said and kissed your forehead.

You looked at the box and kissed Logan as a thank you. You opened the box and saw dog tags with your info on it and a picture of you and Logan.

“Well this, this is actually for me.” he said as he took your dog tags and with his other hand, he took his own off his neck and gave it to you.

“This is the one that’s actually for you. You know, I really missed you when I was out on the mission, and I know you miss me too when I’m gone so I thought this was a good way for me to always have a piece of you and you always have a piece of me. I also know how much you like that picture, so-” You interrupted him by kissing him.

“Thank you. I love it!” you said and he looked at you like you were an angel. His angel. “I love you, Logan.”

“Love you too, sweetheart.”

You cupped Logan’s cheeks and kissed him.

Both of you cuddled for the rest of the night and were finally able to fall asleep next to each other after so many nights apart. You were able to be next to each other, to feel the other's warmth.

That was the best night’s sleep both of you have had last week.

Hope you liked it!

xoxo, kim ryoko

[thedemoninme141]

Not a bad Christmas (set in the "Not a bad day" universe)

Summary: Wednesday ended up as your "Secret Santa".

Theme: FLUFF!

Parings: Wednesday Addams & Female Reader Wordcount: 5.8k. Set in the "before dating" period

Warnings: JealousWednesday!!! Cringe Fluff?

(A/n: I know the next chapter was supposed to be in "after dating" period but I felt like it would be better in "before dating" period.)

“I am SO excited!” Enid declared, her voice loud enough to draw glances from neighboring tables. She didn’t care. "You guys, you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this moment."

"For breakfast?" Yoko asked dryly, sipping her coffee.

"No, for this!"Enid gestured dramatically, nearly knocking over her juice. "The Christmas party! You all know Principal Weems put me in charge this year, right?"

"You’ve mentioned it," Bianca said with sarcasm. "Maybe only a hundred times."

Eugene adjusted his glasses, looking genuinely intrigued. "What’s the big deal about this year's Christmas party?"

"Eugene, it’s not just a big deal. It’s the biggest deal!" Enid leaned in, her voice dropping as she whispered "I pitched an idea to Principal Weems that is going to make this the most amazing, unforgettable Christmas party ever!"

"What’s the idea?" Eugene asked,

"I’m not telling!" Enid sing-songed. "It’s a surprise! Weems might even announce it today."

“If it’s not as groundbreaking as you’re hyping it up to be, we’re going to riot.” Bianca said dryly.

“I can handle the pressure!” Enid declared, “I was born for this. And besides, Christmas is my favorite holiday. It’s sparkly and cheerful, and everyone gets to come together! It’s the one time of year people have no excuse to be grumpy.”

Wednesday’s dark gaze flicked to Enid, a sarcastic remark brewing on her tongue. However, she bit it back, opting instead for a slow sip of coffee. Grumpy? She could name a dozen reasons why grumpiness was not only justified but necessary—especially during a holiday that encouraged excessive sentimentality. She glanced sideways at you, seated just beside Enid, you looked intrigued. Great.

She didn’t need her visions to predict that whatever Enid had in store would be an exercise in torture for her, and likely for everyone else. She hoped she would be able to ignore it, maybe stay locked in her room during Christmas but then, there was you... who just glanced back at her, giving a warm smile.

Wednesday quickly looked away, back at her food... oh wait she was done eating.

Why did you smile at her like that? Why did her heart just skip a beat? Why did her stomach twist into knots at your smile?

“Wednesday!” Enid’s voice cutting through her reverie.

“What?”

“I said, aren’t you so excited for the announcement?” Enid beamed at her, completely oblivious to Wednesday’s growing annoyance.

“Thrilled,” Wednesday deadpanned, “Nothing brings me more joy than waiting for yet another banal attempt at forced merriment.”

Enid pouted. “Come on, don’t be such a Grinch. This is going to be so fun! Right?” She nudged you with her elbow, seeking validation.

You chuckled softly, nodding. “It’ll be fun, Enid. I’m sure whatever you’ve planned is going to blow everyone away.”

“See? At least someone believes in- Oh, Weems is here!"

The din of student conversation gradually quieted as Weems stepped into the center of the quad, her presence commanding attention.

"Good morning, everyone," Weems began, her voice clear and authoritative. "As you all know, the holiday season is upon us. This year, we aim to celebrate with a bit more… normalcy, after last year’s unfortunate events." Her eyes flicked briefly toward Wednesday, who met her gaze with a defiant smirk. Unfortunate? Maybe. Enjoyable? Yes.

Weems cleared her throat. "To that end, I’m pleased to announce a new tradition for our Nevermore Christmas celebration: a Secret Santa gift exchange!"

The announcement was met with a collective groan from the students.

"You’ve got to be kidding me," Yoko muttered. "Ugh, I hate shopping for other people," Bianca complained

"What if we just… don’t do it?" someone called out from another table.

Weems’ smile tightened, her patience visibly waning. "Participation is mandatory. Each student will draw a name at random later today and will be expected to provide a thoughtful, appropriate gift."

"This is absurd," Wednesday declared, her tone icy. "Forcing us to partake in such a vacuous activity only reinforces the notion that conformity is more valued than individuality."

"Oh, come on, Wednesday," Enid said, her excitement undiminished. "It’ll be fun! You might get something you like."

"Doubtful," Wednesday retorted. "Unless my Secret Santa has access to poison or medieval torture devices or a collection of preserved organs or..."

Your giggle interrupted her, earning a sharp glance from Wednesday. "You know, it’s not that bad," you said, leaning slightly toward her. "Maybe you’ll get something one of those things."

Wednesday’s eyes narrowed. "Hightly unlikely"

Enid, meanwhile, was practically bouncing in her seat. "I can’t wait to see who I get! This is going to be amazing!"

"Amazing for you," Bianca said dryly. "For the rest of us? Not so much."

Weems raised her hand for silence. "That will be all for now. The details of the exchange will be posted later today. I trust you all will approach this with the spirit of the season in mind." Wednesday wants to summon a sprit to haunt that excuse of a principal.

With that, Weems turned and strode away, leaving the quad to devolve once more into hushed complaints and reluctant acceptance. Enid turned to you, her eyes sparkling.

"This is going to be SO GREAT!" she said, grabbing your arm. "I already have, like, a million gift ideas. What about you? Are you excited?"

You smiled, glancing briefly at Wednesday, whose scowl had deepened even more as if that was even possible. "I think it’ll be… interesting."

"Interesting?" Enid repeated. "It’ll be fantastic! Secret Santa could be a good bonding activity.” Enid said, her chipper tone grating against Wednesday’s mood.

“I’d rather bond with a guillotine,” Wednesday muttered as the group started gathering their things for class. Enid, still beaming with unrelenting excitement about the Secret Santa announcement, latched onto Wednesday’s arm, chattering nonstop about potential gift ideas and how this year’s Christmas party would outshine any before it. Wednesday, for her part, thought about finding whoever this Santa Claus is and putting an end to him.

Entering the classroom, Wednesday took her usual seat and Enid plopped into the chair beside her. You were just a few seats ahead, settling into your spot. The seat next to you, tantalizingly empty…

Nate? Nick? or whatever his forgettable name was appeared in the doorway. His eyes scanned the room, landing on the empty seat beside you. He brightened instantly, taking a step forward as though he were about to claim it.

Then his gaze shifted to Wednesday.

Wednesday’s expression remained perfectly neutral, except for the sharp, unmistakable intensity in her dark eyes. She didn’t flinch, didn’t speak. She simply stared at him.

The boy froze mid-step, his face paling. His eyes flicked to the faint burns on his hand, still healing from the “accidental” cocoa incident at the ugly sweater party.

“Oh, hell no,” he muttered under his breath, spinning on his heel and fast-walking to a corner seat as far away from Wednesday as possible.

The scene would’ve pleased Wednesday had it not been for the way you glanced back at her, curious and faintly confused. She quickly diverted her gaze, feigning interest in the carved graffiti on her desk.

Moments later, Bianca came in. Her eyes immediately landed on the empty seat beside you. She started walking toward it, only to pause midway. Instead of sitting there, she veered toward Enid and tapped her on the shoulder.

“Enid,” Bianca said smoothly “mind switching seats with me?”

Enid’s face lit up. “Of course! You can sit here! I can sit next to Y/N!” She began gathering her things without hesitation, practically skipping to the seat beside you.

Bianca slid into Enid’s vacated spot,

“You are not wanted here,” Wednesday said icily, her tone as sharp as a blade.

Bianca rolled her eyes. “Relax, Addams. I’m not here for your sparkling personality. I just figured sitting here was safer.”

“Safer? Why would sitting beside "me" would be safer?” Wednesday’s tone turned even colder.

Bianca smirked. “Please, as if we haven’t noticed how you practically plot murders in your head for anyone who gets too close to Y/N.”

Wednesday’s spine straightened, her glare intensifying. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, spare me the denial,” Bianca said dismissively. “Enid is safe from your wrath because, well… she’s Enid. But me? Let’s just say I care too much about my life to be a victim of your jealousy.”

“I am not jealous,” Wednesday hissed, her voice low but venomous.

“Uh-huh.” Bianca gave her a knowing look before turning her attention to the front of the room, clearly enjoying herself.

Wednesday’s hands clenched into fists beneath the desk, her dark eyes flitting back to you. You were laughing softly at something Enid had said, your smile so warm it could melt snow. Wednesday felt a strange mix of frustration and longing twist in her chest. How could someone like you affect her so profoundly without even trying?

“Alright, class,” the teacher finally announced, setting down her book with a flourish, “we’re ending a little early today because it’s time to find out who your Secret Santa recipient will be!”

“Yes! Finally!” Enid exclaimed, bouncing in her seat like a hyperactive puppy.

Wednesday’s gaze shifted to the front of the room, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. A new wave of dread crept into her mind. This was it, the moment she’d been dreading since Weems’s announcement.

“Each of you will receive a small box. Inside that box is the name of the person you’ll be playing Secret Santa for." The teacher said, "Miss Sinclair, I believe you have the materials?”

“Oh! Yes, one sec!” Enid practically bolted from her chair, nearly toppling it in her haste. She sped out of the room in a blur of rainbows🌈🌈🌈, leaving everyone staring after her.

Wednesday felt like it hadn't even been 5 secs before Enid burst back into the classroom with a large, overly festive box clutched in her arms.

“Ta-da!” she declared, dropping the box onto the teacher’s desk with an audible thud.

Several students groaned at the display.

“Why is it so… glittery?” The teacher asked.

“It’s Christmas!” Enid replied, as if that explained everything. She opened the larger box to reveal an assortment of tiny boxes, each neatly wrapped and tied with red ribbons. “Pretty, right?”

Wednesday arched an eyebrow. “If you mean ‘pretty excessive,’ then yes.”

Enid ignored her, already grabbing a smaller box. “Okay, so I’ll start handing these out! Bianca, wanna help?”

Bianca sighed but stood anyway, muttering, “Might as well get this over with.”

The two of them began pulling out the tiny boxes, reading the names written on them, and distributing them around the room. Students grumbled their thanks, some reluctantly and others with mild curiosity as they turned the boxes over in their hands.

When Enid finally reached Wednesday, her excitement was still at an all-time high. “Here you go, Wends!” She thrust the small box toward her.

Though Enid had wrapped the box with black paper, Wednesday stared at the box as though it might explode. She took it with her usual reluctance, her fingers brushing against the ribbon’s texture.

With deliberate slowness, Wednesday pulled the ribbon loose, lifted the lid, and peered inside.

Hopefully, it would be someone she loathed. The possibilities were endless: a smug siren, an irritating vampire, or perhaps even that one werewolf who insisted on howling every full moon at midnight since she wolfed out. Yes, she could relish the challenge of giving them the worst, most spiteful gift imaginable.

But luck had a way of avoiding her at the worst times.

The name on the slip of paper felt like a slap in the face.

Curse you, Enid Sinclair.

Y/N L/N.

Her stomach dropped. Of all the names. Of all the cursed possibilities.

Wednesday’s chest tightened. This was a disaster.

Being your Secret Santa meant she’d have to think about you even more than she already did. She’d have to choose a gift, something meaningful, something that wouldn’t betray the tangled mess of emotions she felt whenever you were near. She couldn’t risk exposing herself, couldn’t let you know how much you affected her.

And yet, a small, treacherous part of her was… excited. The thought of giving you something, of seeing your reaction, was almost enough to outweigh her dread. Almost.

Her jaw clenched. No. She couldn’t let this ridiculous tradition get to her. She’d find the most generic, impersonal gift possible and be done with it. That was the only way to survive this.

But as she watched you lean back in your chair, your gaze flickering toward her with a curious smile, Wednesday felt her resolve waver.

This was going to be the longest Christmas of her life.

Enid practically hop-skipped down the hall as she clutched a small notebook filled with ideas for Eugene’s Secret Santa gift to her chest. She was going to be the best Secret Santa ever.  

"Maybe I can knit him a bee-themed scarf! Or get him a limited edition honey collection—do they even make those? I’ll make it happen!"

She pushed the door open to their shared dorm room, fully expecting to see Wednesday brooding on her typewriter or reading some obscure book about medieval torture methods. Instead, she froze mid-step.

"Wednesday… what the hell is this?"

Wednesday had her cursed investigation board back out, its surface covered in a chaotic mess of photos, red strings, and notes. At first glance, it looked like Wednesday was solving another gruesome murder in the woods.

Enid’s pulse quickened. "Oh no, no, no. What happened now? Did some monster claw its way out of the woods again?"

Wednesday didn’t immediately respond. She was too engrossed in pinning another photo to the board, her expression dark with concentration. Enid’s eyes scanned the board, her heart pounding as she prepared for the worst. But then her gaze landed on the pictures.

Your pictures...

Not once, not twice, but in multiple photos. Some candid shots of you laughing in the quad, others from a class project presentation, even one blurry photo of you reading in the library. There were sticky notes around them, though the handwriting was too small for Enid to make out. She blinked, her mouth falling open.

“Wednesday,” she began cautiously “what is this? What did Y/N do?”

Finally, Wednesday turned her head to look at Enid, her expression unreadable, clearly annoyed at the interruption. “Y/N did nothing.”

“Then why... why is she all over your investigation board?! Are you trying to prove she’s some kind of secret villain or something? Because I’m telling you, Wednesday, Y/N is, like, the nicest person I know.”

Without a word, Wednesday plucked a folded slip of paper from her desk and shoved it into Enid’s hands. Enid unfolded it and read the name written in sharp, neat letters.

Y/N L/N.

The realization dawned on Enid almost instantly. Her lips parted, forming an "O" of understanding. "Ohhhhh," she said, drawing the sound out like a squeaky balloon. "You’re her Secret Santa!"

"Astute observation," Wednesday deadpanned, crossing her arms.

Enid’s eyes darted back to the board, her previous panic replaced with intrigue. "So, is this—?"

"Yes," Wednesday interrupted with a sigh, "This is… research."

"Research?" Enid echoed, "Wednesday, this is borderline stalking. You don’t need an entire murder board to pick out a gift!"

Wednesday’s jaw tightened, but she didn’t respond. Her gaze flicked back to the board.

Enid’s eyes scanned the chaotic collage again, only to land on a picture of another student, a girl... Darcy? Enid remembers. Unlike the others, this photo had a bright red circle drawn around it.

"Uh, Wednesday?" Enid said cautiously, pointing at the circled picture. "Why is Darcy on here?"

Wednesday’s response was immediate and emotionless. "That girl is Y/N’s nemesis. I thought perhaps eliminating her would be an appropriate gift."

Enid gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. "Nemesis? What the hell are you talking about?!"

"Darcy spilled coffee on Y/n." Wednesday said flatly.

“Spilled Coffee??!!” Enid repeated, her voice rising in disbelief. “Darcy spilled coffee on Y/N six months ago. By accident! And she apologized, like, a hundred times.”

“Same thing,” Wednesday said, her tone indifferent.

"Alright alright. Lets take it down a bit. Have you tried thinking about something normal? Maybe a book." Enid asked shrugging.

Wednesday glared at Enid. “A book? How unimaginative. I refuse to insult her intelligence with something so pedestrian.”

“Well, excuse me for trying to help,” Enid shot back. "How about you tell me the list of what you have considered."

“A taxidermy specimen,” Wednesday offered.

“Dial it back.”

“An antique dagger that captures the souls of its victim.”

“No, that's... wait... does that actually exist?”

“A preserved tarantula.”

“Wednesday!” Enid groaned, throwing her head back. “You can’t give her something creepy! You’ll scare her off!”

Wednesday’s expression darkened, and she muttered under her breath, “It’s better than being dull.”

“Look,” Enid said, stepping closer and placing a hand on Wednesday’s shoulder. “I get it, okay? You like her. Like, really like her. And that’s scary and new to you, I get it. But you’re making this way harder than it needs to be. Just think about what would make her smile. That’s all that matters.”

Wednesday’s gaze softened, her usual sharp retort dying on her lips. She glanced at the board one more time, her mind swirling with uncertainty. “What if… I choose wrong?”

Enid smiled gently. “You won’t. You know her better than you think.”

Wednesday didn’t argue. But as she looked back at the pictures of you... and that smile. Maybe the answer really was simple.

And so, she found herself standing at the edge of the quad.  her dark eyes surveying the chaos.

She held the small box in her hand, its contents weighing far more heavily on her mind than its actual physical mass. The box was simple plain black, tied with a thin crimson ribbon.

This was idiotic. Completely, utterly idiotic.

Ridiculous, she thought, glancing down at the gift. Why should this be any different from any other calculated gesture?

But it was different. You made it different.

She inhaled deeply, the cold air filling her lungs before she began her measured descent into the quad. Her steps were deliberate, slow.

Around her, students chatted and mingled and she felt their eyes occasionally drift toward her, as they always did, but tonight, she barely noticed. Her focus was elsewhere.

You.

Wednesday spotted you almost instantly. You were seated at one of the circular tables near the center of the quad, surrounded by her circle of idiots. Each of them had their gifts piled near their chairs, wrapped in colorful paper that made Wednesday inwardly puke. There was something almost unsettling about seeing you like this.

Enid whispered something to you and you smiled but, that smile didn't quite reach your eyes. Your usual brightness was dimmed tonight, replaced with an air of... nervousness? Contemplation? Whatever it was, it made her chest tighten in a way she didn’t entirely understand.

As she neared the table, Enid was the first to notice her. The werewolf’s face lit up like a Christmas tree. “Wednesday! You made it!” Enid’s voice rang out, drawing the attention of the entire table.

Your eyes met hers, and for a fleeting moment, the noise around her faded. The nervousness in your expression softened slightly, replaced by something gentler. You offered a small, shy smile that sent an unfamiliar warmth spreading through Wednesday’s chest. She quickly averted her gaze, clearing her throat as she reached the table.

"Of course, she made it," Bianca drawled, leaning back in her chair with a smirk. "Our personal Christmas Grinch wouldn’t miss the chance to haunt us while we are trying to have some fun."

Wednesday’s gaze snapped to Bianca, her dark eyes narrowing. "If I wanted to haunt you, Bianca, I’d do it with far more creativity than attending this… overdecorated spectacle."

"Overdecorated spectacle? Some of us put effort into this, you know." Enid pouted "Well at least you came, so come on, have a seat!" Enid said brightening up again as she patted the empty seat beside her.

Reluctantly, Wednesday slid into the offered seat, her posture as stiff as ever. She placed the box on her lap, keeping it hidden from view, her fingers resting on the ribbon as if to reassure herself it was still there.

"Hot cocoa?" Eugene offered, holding out a steaming mug.

"No," Wednesday replied flatly, her eyes darting briefly to you. She doesn't need to burn anyone. For now.

You glanced up then, your gaze meeting hers for a fleeting moment before you quickly looked away, a faint blush dusting your cheeks. Wednesday’s stomach twisted at the sight, though she couldn’t pinpoint why.

You reached for your drink and for a moment, you seemed lost in thought again. Your brow furrowed ever so slightly, and your gaze drifted to the flickering lights above. Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she observed you, her mind racing to decode the emotions playing across your face.

Were you nervous? Sad? Or perhaps simply tired of the holiday cheer? Was it the Secret Santa event? Did you draw someone you weren’t fond of?

Who had you drawn? And what had you chosen for them? The thought unsettled her more than it should have. A fleeting image of you selecting a thoughtful gift for someone else sent a sharp pang of irritation through her. You, holding a gift, your face bright with anticipation as you presented it to some undeserving fool.

Perhaps that girl you’d partnered with in herbology last week or the one who lingered too long near your station, or the one who asked you on a dance in the ugly sweater party... maybe she would need to burn someone after all.

Before she could spiral further into her thoughts she felt the chatter quiet almost instantly and Wednesday didn't bother looking at the stage.

“Good evening, everyone,” Weems began, her voice carrying effortlessly over the crowd. “I’m delighted to see so many of you here tonight, embracing the spirit of the season”

Wednesday suppressed a groan, straightening in her chair but not bothering to feign interest.

Weems continued, her smile widening as she surveyed the gathering. “This year has been relatively… uneventful.” She hesitated just a fraction of a second, her gaze lingering momentarily on Wednesday before moving on. “For which I am profoundly grateful.”

That earned a few chuckles from the crowd, and Wednesday’s lips twitched in faint irritation. Uneventful? That was certainly one way to describe it. From monsters lurking in the woods and unraveling a centuries-old conspiracy to.... brooding. Yeah.. that's what Wednesday found herself doing last year... Was Bianca right about her brooding all the time?  

She should’ve hated this year, every day of it. It was, by all accounts, actually uneventful. The monotony alone should’ve driven her mad.

But it hadn’t.

And she knew exactly why.

Her gaze flicked back to you, almost involuntarily. You were still seated, your hands now wrapped around your cup as you leaned closer to Enid, nodding along to whatever trivial nonsense she was whispering in your ear. You didn’t look extraordinary, not in the conventional sense. Your sweater was unassuming. And yet, to Wednesday, you radiated something inexplicably magnetic.

It was because of you.

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the ribbon of the box in her lap, her thoughts momentarily scattered. She should have hated this year, loathed it for its lack of intellectual stimulation and excitement. But no matter how much she tried, that hatred never came.

Because of you.

She sighed, a sound barely audible even to herself, and returned her attention to Weems, who was still mid-speech. “This year has proved what Nevermore can be,” Weems declared, her tone resolute. “A place of growth and of potential. As we stand on the brink of a new year, let us carry forward the bonds we’ve strengthened here tonight.” Weems’ gaze swept over the gathered students, lingering briefly on Wednesday, as if daring her to contradict the sentiment. Wednesday met her gaze with a neutral expression, unwilling to give the principal the satisfaction of any visible reaction.

“And so,” Weems concluded, her voice warm yet authoritative, “let us feast, celebrate, and look forward to the possibilities that lie ahead. Happy holidays, my dear students.” A polite smattering of applause followed, and Weems stepped back, gesturing toward the long tables laden with food at the edge of the quad. The students began to stir, rising from their seats and drifting toward the table.

From her seat, Wednesday found herself observing Enid tearing into her food, a sight both grotesque and vaguely amusing.

“Enid, you’re one drumstick away from wolfing out right here.” Bianca quipped from across the table.

Enid shot Bianca a pointed look, her cheeks already puffed out like a chipmunk’s from the food she was furiously chewing. Swallowing with a dramatic gulp, she said, “Hey! It’s not my fault everything tastes so good! And for your information, I was busy all day! You think this whole event planned itself?”

Wednesday barely registered the conversation, her dark eyes fixed on her untouched plate. The food, no matter how well-prepared or fragrant, was irrelevant to her. Her mind churned with far more pressing matters.

The gift.

The prospect of giving you the gift in front of everyone at the table was a particular source of dread. She was not one for public displays, especially when it came to something as vulnerable as this. What if they mocked her choice? Worse, what if you did?

Wednesday’s fingers tightened around the box, her knuckles whitening. She refused to entertain that thought any longer. No. You wouldn’t mock her. You weren’t like the others.

You were kind... loving and you weren't... at the table?

Her heart skipped a beat as she scanned the immediate area. You were nowhere in sight. The seat you had occupied moments ago was empty, your plate still half-full. Wednesday’s brow furrowed, a sliver of unease creeping in.

Where had you gone? She hadn’t seen you leave. Had she been so lost in her own head that she missed it?

And then she saw it—a small piece of paper resting just beside her plate. Her brows furrowed as she reached for it, unfolding it with deliberate care. The handwriting was unmistakable.

Meet me near the fountain.

A smirk tugged at the corner of Wednesday’s lips, unbidden but not unwelcome. Of course, it was you. Who else would have the audacity to summon her like this?

She folded the note carefully and tucked it into her pocket before rising to her feet.

Enid paused mid-bite “Where are you going? You barely touched your food!”

Wednesday didn't bother answering as she made her way through the crowd. Each step felt deliberate, measured. Her grip tightened around the small box in her hand as she approached the pathway leading to the fountain, her mind already racing.

What would she say when she saw you? Would she hand over the gift without a word, letting the gesture speak for itself? Or would she attempt something more... personal? Words weren’t her forte, especially not when it came to feelings. And yet, with you, words seemed both inadequate and entirely necessary.

And there you were.

Sitting on the bench, your back straight but your posture relaxed, you stared ahead at the frozen fountain.

For the briefest moment, Wednesday froze. Her mind, usually a whirl of calculated plans and sharp observations, was disturbingly blank. You looked so...you.

Finally, she took a breath, steady and controlled, and stepped forward.

You must have heard her approach because you turned your head just as she reached the bench.

Your eyes found hers.

That smile, the same smile. that had marked its place in... her unnecessary blood-pumping machine they called "heart". There was something different about it this time, though. It wasn’t the shy or nervous smile from earlier. It was warm, inviting, and... knowing. As if you had been waiting for her all along.

You patted the empty space beside you. “Sit.”

Wednesday hesitated for only a second before lowering herself onto the bench. She glanced at you from the corner of her eye, noting the way you rested your hands in your lap, your fingers brushing against one another absentmindedly. You were close, closer than she realized, and the proximity was enough to make her hyperaware of her every movement.

How does one start something like this? She had rehearsed no fewer than twenty scenarios in her mind, yet now, sitting here beside you, they all felt insufficient.

“Do you believe in fate, Wednesday?”

The question caught her off guard. She turned her head to look at you fully, her brow furrowing as she considered your words.

“Fate?” she repeated, her tone skeptical. “The idea that our lives are predetermined by some cosmic force?”

You nodded, your gaze unwavering.

“Fate,” she repeated, her tone contemplative. “A concept often romanticized but rarely substantiated. It implies predestination, a lack of autonomy, which I find… unsatisfactory.”

You chuckled softly, the sound light and modest, yet it sent a ripple through her. “That’s a very Wednesday answer,”.

“And what would your answer be?” she countered, her gaze steady on you.

“I think,” you began, your eyes returning to the fountain, “that fate isn’t about things being preordained. It’s about moments, little choices that lead us to places we never expected to be. Like… sitting here, tonight, with you.”

Her chest tightened, the weight of your words pressing against her usual walls of detachment. You had a way of saying things that left no room for deflection, no safe harbor for her to retreat to.

“Perhaps,” she said after a pause, her voice quieter, “fate is less about inevitability and more about… alignment. An intersection of paths.”

You tilted your head, considering her words, and then smiled. “I like that.”

The silence returned, but this time, it felt warmer, less daunting. You shifted slightly, your shoulder brushing against hers, a small, fleeting touch that sent a spark of something unfamiliar coursing through her.

“There’s something I need to give you,” she said finally, her voice steady but softer than usual.

You turned to her, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Oh?”

She held the box out toward you, her movements precise but tinged with an underlying hesitation.

"You are my secret santa?" Your lips quirked into a teasing smile as you accepted the box. “I hope it’s not a tarantula,” you joked.

“It’s not,” she replied flatly.

You untied the ribbon carefully, your fingers deliberate as you removed the lid. Inside was a glass globe, delicate and intricately crafted. In the center stood two shadowy figures, featureless yet unmistakably human, lost in their own world, but at peace.

Your fingers hovered over the small button at the base of the globe. With a curious glance at Wednesday, you pressed it.

The soft melody of the piano that played was instantly recognizable. Your eyes widened, and you turned to her.

Your breath hitched as you glanced at her. “Wednesday, is this...?”

“The ugly sweater party night,” she finished for you, her eyes flicked back to the globe, unable to meet yours. “A memory. One I thought you should have, too.”

Your smile was radiant, and for the first time, she felt as though she had done something right, truly right.

And then you snapped your fingers.

A small, glowing purple portal materialized in the air, swirling and pulsating with quiet energy. You reached into it, your movements unhurried, and pulled out a rectangular box wrapped in deep blood-red paper. The portal vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving no trace behind.

So, you could conjure portals. That explained how you’d managed to place the note near her earlier without her noticing, a feat she had, until this moment, deemed improbable. You possessed a skill that defied logic and simplicity, and though she hated to admit it, she was impressed.

You held the box out toward her, “I am your Secret Santa too, Wednesday,” you said, your voice light, a trace of mischief dancing on your lips. “Talk about fate, huh?”

Wednesday tilted her head ever so slightly, her dark eyes flicking between you and the box now resting in your lap. "I am skeptical of calling it fate. A calculated scheme seems more acceptable.”  ENID.

Slowly, she reached out and took the box, its weight heavier than she anticipated. You watched her with quiet anticipation, she tore away the paper, revealing a wooden case beneath. Her brow furrowed slightly as she opened the case, her breath catching the moment her eyes fell upon the contents.

Inside was a dagger, encased in glass, its blade gleaming even in the dim light of the fountain. But this wasn’t just any dagger.

The hilt was ornate, at its base, a ruby-red gemstone sat nestled within the design, pulsing faintly as though alive. The blade itself was thin, wickedly sharp, and etched with complicated patterns A faint inscription ran along its length in a language she recognized as Hungarian.

Her eyes widened, and for the first time in what felt like forever, a genuine, real smirk tugged at the corners of her lips. She recognized this blade instantly.

“Elizabeth Báthory’s dagger,” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper. The infamous serial killer of the 1600s, known for her brutal methods and rumored vampiric tendencies, had wielded this blade. Legends spoke of its dark history, of how it was used to drain the blood of her victims.

“How did you get this?” she asked, her voice low, almost adoring.

You shrugged lightly. “I have my ways.”

Wednesday’s gaze returned to the dagger, her fingers brushing against the glass casing as if to confirm its reality. Her mind raced with the implications of the gift, not just its historical significance, but what it meant coming from you.

You had given her something she cherished, not for its material value, but for what it represented.

You saw her. Not the façade she presented to the world, but the depths of her being, the parts most people recoiled from or misunderstood.

You didn’t shy away from the darkness that fascinated her; instead, you embraced it, honored it even, cared for it... cared for her...

The weight of that realization settled over her, mingling with an unfamiliar warmth that she didn’t know how to name.

She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she didn’t notice you leaning closer until your head rested gently on her shoulder.

She froze.

Her gaze flicked to you briefly. You were gazing down at the globe in your lap, the soft melody still playing. Her eyes returned to the dagger. She allowed herself a small, almost imperceptible sigh, her gaze fixed on the ruby gemstone embedded in the dagger’s hilt.

Not a bad Christmas. Not bad at all.

Wanted to post this in Christmas night... but finished early. Comment how you guys liked it!

Also comment what you would've given Wednesday as her secret santa.

->WORKLIST<-

[brucewaynehater101]

ok so this Tim's stuck in B's body

He made sure he was alone in a batcave, he knew he was alone. he didn't want to lose it, and yet, here he was. it's been too much. burying his own body. dealing with never seeing, or, at least, interacting with his friends ever again. becoming a father to his siblings, to Damian, which probably was already way too much. so he sat there. alone. going through it, because in the evening there was supposed to be a gala, and he would have to play Brucie, the role he genuinely hated.

He was alone, he didn't account for someone being there.

"Tim," Dick said softly, and it took everything from Tim to not whip around.

"He is dead, you need to accept it," he said, now grateful for Bruce's gruff voice. Hating that it sounds so deep inside of him.

"I've been around Bruce for twenty years," Dick leant on the Batcomputer table. He was in his civilian attire, "Do you really think I wouldn't notice?" there was a soft smile on his lips, and Tim felt, like he wanted to cry. He didn't.

Maybe he should keep a charade. Keep acting like he's Bruce.

"And even if I'm mistaken," he said, looking away towards the entrance to the mansion. "I"m always willing to give you a hand in case everything is too overwhelming after his death."

Tim didn't feel better, he only could go through his actions in panic, thinking what exactly set Dick off, he needed to fix it, to keep pretending he's Bruce, that's the only way.

"So if you can't deal with the whole plate, I'll help you. I'm just from Damian's teacher-parent meeting, by the way," Tim forgot, Bruce forgot, oh gosh, he forgot. "They still have my phone as their first contact," Dick huffed, like it was funny, like it wasn't a failure on Bruce's - Tim's? - part. "And I can go out as a Bat if you don't feel like it."

"You hate it though," Tim said, it wasn't something Bruce would say.

"You hate it more, baby bird," Dick said and pushed himself off the table. "If anything, I'll get ready for today's gala, I'll tell everyone you don't feel well."

Tim wanted to say something, he needed to say something, but when he turned around Dick wasn't there.

That was probably the worst time to get his hallucinations back, wasn't it.

(let's not make it that angsty and just have it as Dick actually came, but Tim dissociated for awhile, and thought Dick disappeared into the thin air)

Here's one(?) of the posts referencing this AU!

This ask focuses on the premise that Bruce and Tim switch bodies, don't tell anyone, and then Bruce dies in Tim's body forever trapping Tim in Bruce's body (while no one else knows).

This is magnificent, my friend. A beautiful addition.

I like making Tim suffer through his problems alone, but you are absolutely correct.

Out of all of the batkids, Dick *would* know Bruce best (unless it's Bruce *about* Dick). It makes perfect sense for him to notice that Bruce isn't acting like Bruce would.

There are reasons he wouldn't notice (he's busy, out of town, distracted, Tim planned for that, or Dick is grieving/spiraling), but it's more likely that Dick would notice than not.

Also, can you imagine the conversations they'd have? The debates? Is it better to let their family members know that *Tim* is inhibiting Bruce's body or to let them grieve Tim instead? Just Dick and Tim constantly fighting about what's best

[Including a very painful remark from Dick about how Tim is turning into Bruce because the younger one refuses to let anyone else know]

Anyways, this could result in Dick supporting Tim and being there for him.

On the other hand, here's some angst ideas instead:

Tim starts hallucinating more to deal with his loss of identity meaning that Dick was just a hallucination (and soon Tim starts seeing both himself and Bruce haunting him)

Dick knows that whoever is wearing his dad's face *isn't* Bruce, but he doesn't realize it's Tim (especially because Tim is "dead" and Bruce is "missing").

When Bruce dies in Tim's body, Bruce's soul returns to his body but Tim stays stuck in there as well :D

When Tim's body dies, Bruce's body starts to slowly deteriorate without Bruce's soul

I think that's enough angst for now :)

[gyeomsweetgyeom]

[11:19 am]

(cw: f!reader, surprise genre hehehe)

Doyoung's breath catches in his throat at the sight of you. You looked gorgeous, he always thought so but today... today you looked ethereal, like an angel. The flowy material of your dress makes you look like you came down from heaven to grace him especially with your presence.

"Doyoung," you breathe out, looking up at him through your eyelashes. Your eyes are wide with surprise, eyelids sparkling with the glitter dabbed across your eyelids.

Doyoung feels his breath hitch in his throat, his heart pounding so hard and fast he fears it might jump out of his chest. "You look... you- wow." He stutters out, his cheeks flushing with surprise and admiration.

The bridal party hustles around the small room behind you, a flutter of sage green chiffon and small bouquets of flowers. You step outside the door and shut it quietly behind you, not wanting your bridesmaid to know you're with him. "What are you doing here?" You ask nervously, fingering fumbling with the lace of your veil.

"I wanted to see you," Doyoung answers softly.

"No, Doyoung. I mean what are you doing here. You weren't invited," you reply coldly.

Ex-boyfriend!Doyoung sighs, shoving his hands into the pockets of his jeans. What was he doing here? He was supposed to be out of the country by now or at least 10,000 feet in the sky. He didn't want to be anywhere near this event! Yet, here he was. After hearing that one of your mutual friends was coming last week, he'd known he wasn't going to actually be on his flight.

He found the same friend, found a selfie they'd posted on their story, and narrowed down the venue to a few different places. He got lucky that he got it right on the first try.

He runs a hand down his face, "I wanted to talk to you. See how you were doing, hopefully- hopefully..."

"Hopefully what? Change my mind? Convince me to leave my fiance?" You question while crossing your arms across your chest defensively.

"Not that, I just... I can't let you do this. I can't let you marry someone else, we belong together," Doyoung explained, reaching for your hands with a hopeful look in his eye.

You pushed his hands away, "no, you don't get to let me do anything. We're not together and we haven't been for 4 years. We've barely talked in all that time and you decide that the day I'm getting married is the day to try to make amends? What is wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Doyoung repeats as he feels his throat get thick, "What's wrong with me is that I've been miserable since we broke up!"

You sigh tiredly to keep yourself calm, "I broke up with you. Do you know why?"

"It was the wrong moment for us. We were always going to come back to each other. We're soulmates," Doyoung stammers out.

"No, I broke up with you because you couldn't compromise. You refused to make changes in the life we were building together to benefit the both of us. It was your way or the highway and I was tired of forcing myself to be who you wanted me to be. I'm not leaving with you, I'm not leaving my fiance for you, I'm not ever going to force myself to make a decision that you've already made for me ever again. I'm happy, I'm marrying the love of my life and he's not you," you tell Doyoung in a calm, collected voice.

You'd dreamt of this moment since you both broke up and he refused to acknowledge the truth. He refused to believe that he was the problem or could ever be a problem in general. Every couple of months he'd reach out, trying to rekindle things, but when you tried to address the issue, he deflected and the conversation became useless. After a couple pointless conversations, you stopped replying, stopped holding out hope for change. You allowed yourself time to heal, to get out there, meet new people, and fall in love with someone who was the human embodiment of your better half.

One of your bridesmaid opens the door, a surprised, "oh" ringing out in the tense silence between you and Doyoung. "It's time to head out for the first look," she tells you quietly.

You nod, looking Doyoung in the eye, "Bye, Doyoung."

He knows that if he speaks, he'll barely be able to get any words out with the knot he feels in his throat, so he just nods. He walks away, blinking rapidly to try to keep himself from breaking down and bawling like a baby. As he leaves, he spots your fiance with his groomsmen. He can see the radiant smile on his face and hear how excited he is, hear the way he gushes about you in a way Doyoung doesn't remember doing himself.

[optimistic-violinist]

Merry Christmas @animationnut! I hope you have a lovely holiday, and enjoy this little ficlet! Your work has brought me a lot of joy so I was super happy to be able to write something for you :D

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Candace bit her fingernails for the umpteenth time as she paced in front of the front window looking at the raging snowstorm outside.

“It's not my fault,” she told no one in particular, aka Perry, who was curled up in his deluxe winter bed, complete with heating pad and no less than three blankets, but even he looked worried as he looked between the door and the clock.

“I told them that just this once they should skip concert practice. They knew it was going to be a blizzard when school got out! But did they listen to me? No! So it's not my fault.”

Perry chittered at her and after a long stare down she sighed.

“I know. I'm just worried. Phineas and Ferb should have been home by now, even if they did stay for practice. Do you think they're still at the school?”

Perry chattered and got out of bed, shaking himself once, before trotting over to where the landline sat on the kitchen counter.

“No, they haven't called either. The storm must have knocked out a cell tower… or they're up to their old shenanigans,” she growled. “That's it! We’re going to find them.”

Grumbling mildy, but willing to set aside his discomfort for the boys, Perry let Candace wrestle him into his winter jacket and leash and waited patiently as she suited up herself.

Finally, she clipped the leash on him and opened the door only for the two of them to immediately be covered in comically thick coating of snow. The two of them blinked and, without a word, Candace scooped him and zipped him into her jacket before stepping out into the cold.

The storm was pretty bad. Lawrence and Linda were out of town for the weekend for a holiday antique conference out of town and Candace, as usual, had been left in charge— unconditionally, for once. It was supposed to be a chill weekend— no pun intended. After the boys got home from school today they were going to binge the Ducky Momo Christmas specials and the lost Space Adventure Christmas episode. Tomorrow, Saturday, they were going to the local Christmas market to get presents for their parents. The Fireside girls were going to be running a booth, and so was Buford’s mom. It was supposed to be a fun, cozy, holiday weekend.

But none of that could happen if his boys didn't make it home tonight.

Burying his head in Candace’s jacket, Perry quickly pushed back his fur to reveal his watch. With the press of a button, he pulled up the tracking devices he had placed on the boys and breathed a sigh of relief. They were still at the school. That was a small relief at least. Covering his watch back up, he stuck his head back out of the jacket and chattered encouragement to Candace.

"Thanks Perry.” She sighed. “They better be okay.”

The roads were dark and the little refuges of light provided by the street lamps were few and far between. Perry did his best to keep Candace warm, but there was only so much a monotreme could do, and both of them were shivering hard enough their teeth were chattering when they finally arrived at the school.And found Phineas and Ferb out in the parking lot helping to dig out cars.

“Hey-y-y-y C-C-C-Candace!”

“Ph-ph-ineas-s-s! You two are s-s-s-so busted! Do you even kn-n-now what t-time it is?”

“S-sorry! We’re almost-t d-d-done!”

Ferb flashed them a thumbs up and pressed a giant green button on the set of mech arms attached to his back. Candace and Perry watched as the hands fused into shovels and began excavating the remaining minivan with extreme precision. As Ferb’s arms shoveled the snow, Phineas’ took it and efficiently packed them into bricks which it then added to the two story snow fort taking up the remainder of the parking lot.

The driver of the minivan waved gratefully before pulling away at a snail's pace.

“Look! C-covered park-k-king!”

“You two are ridiculous,” Candace muttered, pulling the two of them into a hug. Perry rubbed his face against theirs, chittering chidingly at their freezing red cheeks.

"Sorry Candace. We didn't think it would take us so long,” Phineas said. “The robotics classroom didn't have all the parts we needed for the robot arms, so we had to raid the theater department. And it was a good thing we did! No one has gotten out yet by the time we got back with these.”

“Well… good job. But you're still busted!”

The boys nodded, matching sheepish grins on their faces.

“Does this mean we can go home now?” Ferb asked.

“Please,” Candace said. “Let's go.”

Blessedly the snow began to lessen as they began their trek home. Perry wriggled out of aCandace’s jacket and hopped into Phineas’ arms, happily accepting the head pats from the two boys. The Christmas lights that hadn't been visible through the storm were finally bright enough to shine through, lightsning the mood and lifting their spirits until they finally made it back home.

The three siblings left their wet clothes— and robot arms— at the door and in record time were showered, pajama-ed, and curled under a pile of blankets on the couch with popcorn and hot cocoa to spare.

“See? All's well that ends well— hey!”

Perry purred innocently as Phineas rubbed his head where he had smacked him with his tail, and curled up between Ferb and Candace who was fighting to get the first Christmas special started.

All's well that ends well indeed.

[silentheiss]

It takes a long time for Shen Qingqiu to fall asleep, and once he does, he wishes he didn’t.

He knows he’s dreaming right away, just as he knows that Luo Binghe’s not there to soften his dream. He’s likely still awake, working through reports he’s been sent earlier today. Usually, Shen Qingqiu would stay with him, but tonight he couldn’t- he just couldn’t. Sleep seemed like a safer choice. He was wrong.

In his dream, he sits in front of the mirror, staring at himself with confusion. At least that’s what he feels. His reflection, in turn, looks at him with such a cold disgust, that Shen Qingqiu knows instantly who he’s dreaming of.

“Congratulations,” Shen Jiu says, thin lips twitching into a haughty smile. “You managed to hurt him even worse than I did.”

“Fuck you.” Shen Qingqiu says. He knows in what detection this is going. He doesn’t like it one bit.

“I called him a dog, but you treat him like one.”

“I don’t.”

“Oh?” Shen Jiu leans closer. “Well, I suppose you’re right. At least dogs are under their owners protection. But he’s the one who protects you, now. You just let him follow you, serve you, tend to you, and what do you give him in return?”

“I- show him. In my own way.”

“Ah. Tell him he’s doing good, every once in a while? Pat his head for a second or two, before stepping away? Begrudgingly agree to physical intimacy after he’s begged enough? The last one is my favorite. Inventively humiliating. Tell me, are you ashamed of him?”

Shen Qingqiu swallows, feeling his eyes grow hot. He doesn’t know what to say, and yet he opens his mouth to argue.

“I care about him.”

Shen Jiu laughs.

“How romantic. How generous. Every devoted husband dreams of hearing he’s merely cared for by their spouse.”

“It’s not just that. I- Of course, I-”

“Can’t even say it to yourself, can you?”

“Binghe knows.” Shen Qingqiu whispers.

“Does he? Or does he think you married him because you’re afraid of what he might’ve done if you didn’t? Or, better yet, does he think you did it out of pity? And yet he’s grateful that you took him in, happy to get any scrap of your attention.”

“That’s not true.” Shen Qingqiu insists.

“Even I couldn’t destroy his self esteem as thoroughly. Great job, Shen Yuan. You rendered a mighty protagonist into a pathetic mutt who knows he’s unloved, but doesn’t have enough self respect to leave.”

“Binghe’s not like that. He’s not. He’s-”

“It’s not his fault.” Shen Jiu shrugs. “You raised him. You made him love you enough that it doesn’t matter if he’s loved in return. Exemplary husband, you are. Truly.”

Shen Qingqiu breaks the mirror.

He wakes up with a start.

“Shizun?” Luo Binghe calls from the other room. Shen Qingqiu hears a shuffle of papers and then soft steps, nearing their bedroom. “Shizun?”

He wants to answer, but he can’t- he can’t breathe.

Luo Binghe comes rushing to the bed, immediately gathering Shen Qingqiu into his arms, holding him close, whispering soft words into his hair.

Shen Qingqiu breaks.

“Binghe.” He gasps through sobs. “Binghe, I’m sorry.”

“Husband has nothing to apologize for.” Luo Binghe says, voice sure and steady.

“No.” Shen Qingqiu cries. “No, no, no. Binghe, this husband failed you.”

“Shizun, don’t say such nonsense.”

Shen Qingqiu raises his head. He has to look his husband in the eye when he says that.

“Binghe, I love you.” He fights to keep his voice steady. “This one loves you so, so much. So much, Binghe. You have to know. I’m sorry I never said. I will do better, I- you have to know.”

Luo Binghe frowns at him, wipes his teary cheeks with shaky hand.

“This one knows.” He says, sounding confused and maybe a little hurt. “Why would Shizun think otherwise?”

“Because I never told you? I rarely kiss you first, I never- I failed as a husband. Binghe’s been perfect, taking care of me, talking about his love for this one for the world to hear, and I failed him. I let him think that he’s not loved, but he is. He is.”

“Shizun.” Luo Binghe leans closer, looking at Shen Qingqiu as if he’s searching for some kind of an answer and if only Shen Qingqiu knew what the question was, he’d give it right away. He’d give him anything. “Husband. I know that you love me. This one knows.”

Shen Qingqiu shudders.

“Binghe does?”

“Of course.”

“But,” Shen Qingqiu whispers. “I never told you?”

“Shizun didn’t have to. This one made it his life mission to study every Shizun’s expression, every movement, every change in the tone of his beautiful voice. He knows his husband, maybe even better than his husband knows himself.”

“Still, I should have-”

“No.” Luo Binghe says. “Husband is doing enough. This one feels very loved, every minute of every day.”

“Binghe.” Shen Qingqiu whines.

“This Binghe is going to have a talk with disciples who planted such silly thoughts in my Shizun’s head.”

“Don’t. They were right, anyway. I should be telling Binghe I love him all the time.”

“You do, husband.” Luo Binghe smiles, soft and sweet. “When you read for me, when you brush my hair extra long, when you get me little presents for no reason at all, when you rant about your silly books. This one is very lucky. He is loved. He knows this.”

Shen Qingqiu crashes against his husband’s chest, feeling almost lightheaded with relief.

“Thank you.” He murmurs. “Thank you, for knowing me so well.”

“It’s this one’s honor to know Shizun.”

Shen Qingqiu holds onto Luo Binghe tighter and doesn’t let go for the rest of the night.

It’s a calm evening. The weather is pleasant, if maybe a touch too warm, but Shen Qingqiu knows that as soon as the sun comes down fully it’ll get better. Luo Binghe and he are walking down the familiar path, taking their customary stroll before they start getting ready to bed. It’s quiet like that on Qing Jing Peak, their routine for when they stay on the mountain. Shen Qingqiu loves it.

As they walk past training ground, disciples’ voices reach them.

“—and once I’m done, Shizun will say I’m his favorite.” One of the younger ones is saying.

Luo Binghe snorts. Shen Qingqiu slows down and shushes him.

“You know he loves that Binghe man the most, A-Tao.”

Shen Qingqiu clears his throat, fighting the blush.

“Does he? He never said so, he just says he’s his favorite. I can be favorite!”

“He never said it in front of you! He’s probably saying it a-all the time when they’re home.”

Shen Qingqiu freezes completely, suddenly feeling uneasy and tense. He feels Luo Binghe go still, too.

“It’s all good, Shizun.” Luo Binghe says a moment later, placating as he always does. “This Binghe is getting tired. Let’s go home?”

They do. They go through their nightly routine, and the evening is still nice and calm, and Shen Qingqiu isn’t nervous, isn’t anxious, isn’t awkward. He’s all good.

He’s never said “I love you” to his husband, but it’s okay. Binghe knows.

He does, right?

[youngpettyqueen]

I cannot believe how sick I am

[icewindandboringhorror]

Some (late) holiday photos of the boye~!

[simcardiac-arrested]

hey, i understand if you don't have the energy/motivation, and i don't want to force you. but i think you should consider exercising a little! even if its just 30 seconds. you might find that moving around actually makes you feel better than not moving! i personally get exercise in by (sometimes) pacing around when i'm deep in thought; maybe taking a walk outside and/or listening to a nice audiobook could work for you? (sorry if im making you uncomfortable! and feel free to call out bad behavior

i don’t think this is a weird or bad thing to say at all. thank you so much for this ask. like actually

[scarlettcryptid]

just came home after being at the ER for 7 hours and all they did was tell me what i already knew (that i have lower abdominal pain and if i get nausea, chills, or lower back pain i should return. i had that all day, even when they discharged me)

[malachitezmeyka]

I know it's useless to get mad at the dog, she's just a hyperactive little thing who doesn't know how to behave yet. She's left home alone for at least 6 hours every day and she's bored, I can't blame her for tearing apart her training pads or shitting all over the place. Even if I did, she must have done it hours ago, dogs don't get that actions that happened so long ago have consequences and all me yelling at her will result in is her being scared of me. I know all that, I do

So WHY am I still so angry at her?? Why does it feel satisfying to lash out and see her scurry away??? She doesn't deserve to be treated like that, she doesn't know any better. And I don't know how to teach her to know better, I don't have the patience for it. She deserves better than me

[unintentional-sad-wizard]

Worried that my health stuff might be acting up again augh

[florida3exclamationpoints]

.

[kittyprincessofcats]

ICJ Ruling

Okay, let's get into this.

First of all, I get the frustration at the court not ordering a ceasefire. I was disappointed and frustrated at first too, since a ceasefire was the biggest and most important preliminary measure South Africa was requesting - and of course we just all want this horror to finally end for the people in Gaza. So I get the frustration and disappointment, I really do.

However, I do think this ruling is still a major win for South Africa, Palestine, and international law as a whole and here's why:

The court acknowledged that it has jurisdiction over this case and completely dismissed Israel's request to throw out the case as a whole. It will now determine at the merits stage (that will probably take years) whether Israel is actually commiting genocide.

The court acknowledged that Palestinians are a "distinct national or ethnic group and therefore deserving of protection under the genocide convention". Pull this out next time someone tells you "there's no such thing as Palestinians, they're all just Arabs".

The court acknowledged very unambiguously that "at least some" of Israel's actions being genocidal in nature is "plausible". South Africa has a case, officially. Israel is accused of genocide, in a way the ICJ deems "plausible", officially. This is huge. (And seriously, how freaking satisfying was it to hear all of those genocidal statements by Israeli politicians read out loud and used as justification for this rulling?)

The court might not have ordered a "ceasefire" in those words, but they did order Israel to "immediately end all genocidal acts" (which includes killing and injuring Palestinians) and submit proof that they actually did. How are they going to comply with this ruling without at least severly reducing or changing what they're doing in Gaza?

In fact, this wording might actually be more appropriate for a genocide (vs a war), as author and journalist Ali Abunimah notes on Twitter:

He's completely right. Israel lost today, by overwhelming majority (I mean, 15 to 2? I heard people predict the rulings would be very close, like 9 judges vs 8, but instead we got 15 to 2 (and even 16 to 1 on the humanitarian aid). Holy shit.) The court disimissed almost everything Israel's side of lawyers said, while acknowledging that South Africa's accusations are "plausible".

And this is important especially because of Mr Abunimah's second tweet there^. Because the question is, where do we go from here?

This ruling means that Israel is officially /possibly/ commiting genocide and that should have huge international consequences. The rest of the world now HAS to take these accusations seriously and stop arming and supporting Israel - and if they won't do it on their own, we, the people, have to make them. This is THE moment to rise up all around the world, especially in the countries most supportive of Israel (the US, the UK, Germany): Protest, call your representatives and demand a ceasefire and an end of arms deliveries to Israel.

We now have a legal case to back our demands: If Israel is, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" commiting genocide, then all of our governments are, according to the ICJ, "plausibly" guiltly of aiding in genocide. And we need to hold that over their heads and demand better. We need to do that right now and in huge numbers. Most politicians only care about themselves and saving their skin. We have to make them realize that they could be accused of aiding in genocide.

(As a German, I'm thinking of Germany here in particular: After South Africa's hearing, our government dismissed their case as having "no basis" - how are they going to keep saying that now that the ICJ officially thinks otherwise? Over the last months, people here have been arrested at protests for calling what's happening in Gaza a genocide. How are the police supposed to legally keep doing that now that the ICJ has officially deemed this accusation "plausible"? I used to be scared to use the word "genocide" at protests or write it on my protest signs - not anymore, have fun trying to arrest me for that when the ICJ literally has my back on this one 🖕🏻.)

So yeah - don't be defeatist about this, don't let Israel's narrative that they "won" (they didn't) take over. This might not be everything we wanted, but it's still a good result. Don't let what the court didn't say ("ceasefire"), distract you from the very important things that they did say. Let this be your motivation to get loud and active, especially if you live in any country that supports Israel. Put pressure on your governments to not be complicit in genocide, you now officially have the highest international court on your side.