#it's not as if i needed an excuse but still

[chariaki]

"kiss me."

"what-"

You're head shot up, eyes now focusing on the white-haired man in front of you, mouth agape and eyes taking in his sunkissed figure.

He leaned his head closer to you, head resting on his palm, his arm on your desk, observing your reaction with a subtle smug look on face.

"what?" furrowing your brows, looking down on him with a hint of disgust.

"You're beautiful."

You scoffed.

"No need for the flattery. I'm doing this so you can shut the fuck up during class." You ignored him and returned to explaining the physics lesson he asked you to tutor him with.

You complied to this silly situation because you figured this would be a way for him to finally stop poking your side and whispering dumb questions to you during classes.

It's been an hour of explaining, and Satorou Gojo seems to have been quiet the whole time. You were happy because you assumed he was really listening and understanding the topic.

Unbeknownst to you, he, instead, was listening to your soft voice, and how you kept trying to make yourself sound strict and scary by making your voice sound deeper, how you brush your hair when you're thinking, how your fingers fidget with your ballpen when you're impatient, how your eyebrows lift up when you're anticipating his answer to a question he didn't even process.

Satrou adored you. This stupid physics tutoring was just a pathetic excuse to spend more time with you.

He reached his hand out towards you, and brushed your hair away from your face.

Pupils dialated, heartbeat quickened, eyes yearning. You watched him be like that, entertained by the sight of him.

The lovestruck man uttered.

"You wanna grab coffee?"

"No, Gojo. I wanna go home."

Swatting his hand away, and bluntly shooting down his offer, closing your books and tidying your stuff. Yet the man still persists.

"But we haven't even finished studying yet, haven't we, sweetheart?"

He holds both of your hands, and fiddles them up and down, treating you like a baby.

"You weren't even listening to me, '"sweetheart." " mocking him, trying to detangle your hands from his big, slender ones, though, failing miserably.

"I soooo listened to you! "

Tightening his grip with you intertwined fingers, and motioning them in the air.

"Yeah? What's the speed of light in a vacuum?"

"..."

"The only thing that matters is the speed of my heartbeat when I'm with you. "

He shoots you a wink.

"Wait- where'ya goin? "

"I'll walk you home!!" Quickly grabbing his backpack and chasing you down the halls.

｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ

Satorou Gojo's plan Q has failed, but, no worries, he'll figure out more ways to make you fall for him. Today, he's just happy he got to be with you for an extra hour, and be able to walk you home... after chasing you down the road, of course.

[mettasing]

maybe it's linked with society in general. people need to brag and pull through, put on a "pulling yourself by your bootstraps" facade to justify their pain and pass as deserving of compassion and help (and it can backfire). still, this game is unfair. it makes you sick in the head, it makes you part of this world-view where ordinary people with chronic illnesses and neurodivergencies who cannot "make up" for their supposed "inadequacy" with savant-like shit, or who cannot just come through and show unmatched resilience, are seen as unworthy, as weak, as whiny.

i myself cannot even start to explain my shortcomings in this world not accommodated for me to other people, because from the get-go i know that they will put on this dreaded facade of successful, wise, unbothered, fuckass annoying bootstrappers, and i will "bother" them with "excuses". my classmate needs to take their pills debilitating them, making them skip lessons, but managing their condition that won't go away. i get that uni teachers aren't your wise mentors, and bureaucracy is a vile beast, but my classmate is not being treated nicely at all because of this fact (i know that "uni" part may make me sound like a fucking hypocrite, but higher education seems like almost a must in my country; it goes away slowly, but i saw abled people getting panic attacks and needing help there). if the person is deemed "annoying", "flawed" then they can't be empathised with at all and they don't deserve understanding and accomodations. when you try to advocate for yourself, you are annoying. when you're just experiencing shit and god forbid if it's not private, you are annoying. when people cannot find anything worthy in you, be it your intelligence, beauty, charisma or some fucking sort of "quirkiness" i guess – and be it in a reasonable amount, you are annoying. and if you are annoying, no one cares. you're annoying them with your stupidity, with your weirdness, with your excuses, you're bothering them, you're abusing their emotional resources by being someone who's having a hard time in any way and could really use some compassion and help, by being your struggling self. to them, you're ignoring their asinine advices that, also to them, are wise just because they said it, you don't want to be good.

and – voilà – you're not a person anymore.

Kinda fucked up that we all coo and sympathize with "former gifted kids" but never talk about the students who had to stay late after school or over the summer for remedial classes/clubs, who struggled to get above a C, who were given up on or punished. Who tried so hard to understand or just couldn't. Who were grouped with the "stupid kids" (a classmate called us that in remedial math btw)

Autistic kids and adhders who can't relate to their gifted peers and are constantly alienated by them. Kids who struggled in school due to dealing with a chronic or mental illness or physical/learning/developmental disability. Those of us who have had to drop out of highschool or college. Kids who worked so hard and wanted to be seen as smart, but never were. Who watched as their peers seem to fly by them in school, while they were left behind. Who were bullied and put down by those in the gifted and honors classes. Whose confidence was absolutely destroyed by education.

I love you all and I'm so sorry the school system failed you. I'm sorry you weren't properly accommodated and given the education you deserved. I'm sorry people put you down for something that they never had to fight for.

[littlelamy]

Rafe x Reader request: They’ve been going on a few dates, with Rafe in the hopes to get in in her pants. Rafe has been more of a fuckboy, lots of experience, kicks girls out as soon as it’s done and have they been inexperienced – he’s kicked them out straight away before anything happens, not having any energy to ‘’teach’’. Cue to Reader and him about to get intimate, she confesses to being a virgin and he kicks her out. HOWEVER……he this time feels like absolute shit about seeing how sad she got and realizes he has fallen for her….and he tries to fix it (happy ending)

a/n: thank you for request, hope you like it!!💗

rafe cameron was never one to think much beyond the moment. he didn’t overanalyze his hookups, didn’t question why they always left with messy hair and no promises of a second date. he had a rhythm to his life, and it worked for him. girls came and went, his phone a revolving door of contacts he didn’t even bother saving half the time.

until you showed up.

it wasn’t just that you were beautiful—plenty of girls were. but you had this quiet confidence about you, a way of looking at him that didn’t scream take me home now. you made him work for your attention, your time, your smiles. and god, he wanted to work for it.

the first few dates were surprisingly normal. no wild nights, no sneaky excuses to get you alone in his room. you made him laugh, made him feel something he hadn’t in years—light, easy, like he could just be rafe without any expectations. but tonight, as you sat on his couch, sipping wine and smiling at him in that way that made his chest ache, rafe couldn’t ignore the tension humming between you any longer.

he leaned in, testing the waters with a soft brush of his lips against yours. when you didn’t pull away, he kissed you again, deeper this time, his hands sliding to your waist. you melted into him, your fingers tangling in his hair, and that was all the invitation he needed.

rafe pulled you closer, his hands wandering beneath your shirt, his kisses growing more urgent. but just as his fingers brushed against the clasp of your bra, you stiffened, pulling back suddenly.

“wait,” you whispered, your voice shaky.

rafe froze, his hands stilling as he searched your face. “what’s wrong?”

you bit your lip, looking anywhere but at him. “i… i need to tell you something.”

his heart sank, the worst possibilities flashing through his mind. “what is it?”

“i’ve never done this before,” you said quietly, barely audible.

the words hung in the air, heavy and unexpected. rafe blinked, his mind struggling to catch up. “you mean…?”

“i’m a virgin,” you clarified, your cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

the room suddenly felt too small, too quiet. rafe sat back, running a hand through his hair as he tried to process. a virgin. you were a virgin. he hadn’t expected that. he hadn’t planned for that.

“shit,” he muttered under his breath.

you pulled your knees to your chest, your voice small. “i’m sorry. i should’ve told you sooner.”

“no, it’s not…” rafe trailed off, shaking his head. “it’s not your fault. it’s just… i don’t think i’m the right guy for this.”

your eyes shot up to meet his, wide with confusion and hurt. “what do you mean?”

“i mean… i don’t think i can give you what you deserve for your first time,” he said, his voice hollow. “you should be with someone who can… i don’t know, make it special or whatever. someone who knows how to handle that.”

the words tasted bitter as he said them, but he convinced himself it was the right thing to do. he wasn’t the guy for you, not for something this big. he couldn’t risk screwing it up.

you stood abruptly, grabbing your bag. “i see.”

“wait—”

“no, it’s fine,” you interrupted, your voice trembling as you headed for the door. “thanks for letting me know where we stand.”

rafe didn’t stop you. he didn’t know how. the door clicked shut behind you, and the silence that followed was deafening.

the guilt hit him almost immediately.

rafe spent the next few days trying to ignore the gnawing pit in his stomach, but it was useless. every time he closed his eyes, he saw the hurt on your face, the way your voice cracked when you said thanks for letting me know where we stand.

he tried to tell himself he did the right thing. he wasn’t equipped for this. he wasn’t worthy of this. but that reasoning felt thinner with every passing hour.

by the third sleepless night, he couldn’t take it anymore.

you weren’t expecting to see rafe when you opened the door. he stood there with a sheepish expression, holding a bouquet of flowers that looked suspiciously last-minute.

“hi,” he said, his voice uncharacteristically soft.

you crossed your arms, leaning against the doorframe. “what do you want?”

“i came to apologize.”

“for what?” you asked, your tone sharp.

“for being a fucking idiot,” he said, his words tumbling out in a rush. “i handled things wrong, and i know i hurt you. i didn’t mean to, but i did, and i’m sorry.”

you stared at him, your defenses still firmly in place. “why now?”

rafe sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “because i haven’t stopped thinking about you since that night. because i was wrong to push you away, and i hate that i made you feel like i didn’t care.”

your heart softened despite yourself, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook just yet. “and what happens if i let you back in? do you just push me away again the second things get complicated?”

“no,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “i won’t. i swear. i just… i freaked out because i’ve never felt this way about anyone before, and it scared the hell out of me. but i’m done running from it. from you.”

the vulnerability in his voice, the sincerity in his eyes, made your resolve crack. slowly, you stepped aside, letting him in.

rafe didn’t rush you after that.

he was patient in a way you hadn’t expected, taking the time to get to know you in ways that had nothing to do with sex. he remembered the little things you told him—your favorite coffee order, the song that always made you cry, the way you liked your eggs in the morning.

and gradually, the walls between you began to crumble.

it was weeks later, on a quiet friday night, that things came full circle. you were sitting on his couch again, your legs tucked under you as you watched a movie. his arm was draped casually over your shoulders, his thumb tracing absentminded circles on your skin.

when you turned to look at him, he was already watching you, his gaze soft and warm.

“what?” you asked, smiling.

“nothing,” he said, his lips twitching into a grin. “you’re just really fucking cute.”

you rolled your eyes, but your cheeks flushed. “shut up.”

he didn’t. instead, he leaned in, capturing your lips in a kiss that was slow and deliberate. his hand cupped your cheek, tilting your face to deepen the kiss.

this time, when his hands wandered, you didn’t stop him.

“are you sure?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

you nodded, your eyes locked on his. “i’m sure.”

rafe didn’t rush. he took his time, every touch, every kiss deliberate and reverent. he didn’t just want you—he wanted to make you feel safe, cherished.

and when it was over, he didn’t pull away. instead, he held you close, his arms wrapped tightly around you as if letting go would mean losing you all over again.

for the first time in his life, rafe cameron didn’t feel the need to run. he didn’t feel the need for anyone else.

he just wanted you.

and he wasn’t going to mess it up again.

taglist: @namelesslosers @princessslutt @averyoceanblvd @iknowdatsrightbih @starkeysprincess @sixrosberg @anamiad00msday @ivysprophecy @wearemadeofstardust0 @kissrotten @rafesangelita @sstargirln @rafedaddy01 @soldesole @bakugouswaif @skywalker0809 @vanessa-rafesgirl l @evermorx89 @aariahnaa @outerhills @ditzyzombiesblog

[misswynters]

Lil Daredevils with big hearts

featuring. ekko x wife!reader

note. i need more aunt! jinx (this is horrible i don’t like it but i’ve spent way too much time on this)

requested. by anon

Your birthday had been a quiet affair so far, just you, Ekko, and the twins at the Firelight hideout. You hadn’t expected much; after all, it was difficult to celebrate properly in a city like this. But your daughters, ever the spirited pair, had whispered and giggled all morning, plotting something secret. You knew they wanted to surprise you, but you couldn’t have guessed how far they’d go.

The more mischievous of the two, had decided that a proper birthday gift was non-negotiable. Her twin, more cautious but equally devoted, followed her lead. Together, they hatched a plan: She would swipe something special from a merchant in the Piltover market while her sister kept watch. It was innocent enough in their young minds, a way to show how much they loved their mama. But even at five years old, the twins underestimated the risk.

The plan unraveled quickly. The more excited twin had barely snatched a sparkling trinket from a vendor’s table when the merchant shouted, drawing the attention of none other than Caitlyn Kiramman. The Enforcer’s sharp eyes caught sight of the tiny thief darting between stalls, her twin calmer sister trailing behind, trying to call her back. Caitlyn’s voice rang out, calm yet commanding. “Stop right there!”

But the twins didn’t stop. Fear propelled them forward, their small feet pattering against the cobblestones. Caitlyn sighed, reaching for her rifle, intending only to fire a warning shot to make them halt. The sight of the weapon, however, filled you with cold dread as you turned the corner and saw the scene unfolding. Your maternal instincts overrode all reason, and without hesitation, you threw yourself between Caitlyn and the girls just as her finger accidentally squeezed the trigger.

The shot echoed through the narrow street, sharp and unforgiving. Pain exploded in your side as the bullet tore through flesh, and you stumbled, clutching the wound as blood seeped between your fingers. The twins froze in horror, their eyes wide and filled with tears. Caitlyn lowered her rifle instantly, her face stricken with regret. “Oh my gods… I didn’t mean—”

The chaos only deepened as Ekko and Vi arrived, drawn by the sound of gunfire. Ekko’s eyes went wide as he took in the sight of you on the ground, bleeding, with Caitlyn standing nearby, rifle still in hand. Rage replaced the shock in an instant. “What the hell did you do?” he snarled, rushing to your side.

Vi, confused and alarmed, held up her hands. “Cait, what’s going on? Who are they?”

Caitlyn stammered, clearly shaken. “I didn’t know they were children—she just—she jumped in the way!”

Before Ekko could unleash the full force of his anger, a familiar chaotic energy entered the scene. Jinx appeared out of nowhere, her wild grin softening when she saw the twins huddled together, crying. “Hey, hey, what’s all this fuss about?” she said, kneeling to their level. “Don’t worry, Auntie Jinx is here.”

You managed a weak smile through the pain. “Jinx… take them. Please.”

Ekko didn’t even need to look to know you trusted her implicitly. Jinx gently scooped up the twins, her tone uncharacteristically soothing. “Come on, munchkins. Let’s go somewhere fun, yeah? Don’t worry about your mama. She’s tougher than she looks.”

The twins clung to her, still sniffling, but they didn’t protest. With one last glance at you, Jinx disappeared as swiftly as she had arrived, the twins safe in her care.

Ekko turned his attention back to Caitlyn and Vi, his protective instincts blazing. “You pointed a gun at my daughters?” he hissed, his voice dangerously low.

Caitlyn stepped forward, guilt etched into every line of her face. “I didn’t know they were yours, Ekko. They were running, and I—”

“That’s no excuse,” Ekko snapped, cutting her off. “They’re kids. My kids. You don’t aim a gun at children, ever.”

Vi, still piecing everything together, held up her hands. “Wait, wait. You’re married? And you have kids?”

“Uh. Yeah, Vi,” Ekko shot back, his tone sharp. “Surprise. Maybe if you and your Enforcer girlfriend weren’t so trigger-happy, you’d probably know that by now.”

“Ekko,” you murmured weakly, placing a hand on his arm. “It was an accident. Please let it go.”

He knelt beside you, his anger softening as he saw the pain in your eyes. “Let it go? She shot you.”

“It was my choice,” you said, your voice firm despite the pain. “I saw the gun, and I jumped. She didn’t mean to.”

Caitlyn crouched down, meeting your gaze with a sincerity that was hard to ignore. “I swear to you, I would never intentionally harm anyone, especially not a child. I’m so sorry.”

Ekko didn’t respond immediately, his jaw tight as he tried to rein in his emotions. Vi stepped closer, her expression more serious now. “Look, I get why you’re pissed. If someone hurt my family, I’d lose it too. But Caitlyn made a mistake. Let us help. We’ll get her patched up.”

You reached for Ekko’s hand, squeezing it gently. “Please, my love.”

He let out a long breath, the tension in his shoulders easing slightly. “Fine. But we’re not done talking about this.”

Vi nodded, offering her hand to help you up. “Fair enough. Let’s get you somewhere safe first.”

Later, back at the Firelight hideout, Ekko hovered over you as you rested on your shared bed, the wound bandaged but still tender. The twins were with Jinx in another part of the hideout, their giggles faintly audible through the walls.

Vi and Caitlyn stood nearby, both uncharacteristically quiet. Ekko finally broke the silence, his voice low but firm. “You’re lucky she’s okay. If she wasn’t…”

“I know,” Caitlyn said softly, her usual confidence replaced by remorse. “I’ll do whatever it takes to make this right.”

Vi crossed her arms, glancing at you. “For what it’s worth, you’ve got guts. Jumping in like that? Not many people would do that.”

You managed a small smile. “Not many people have kids like mine.”

Ekko sat beside you, his hand resting over yours. “They’re lucky to have you as their mom.”

Despite the lingering tension, the room felt a little lighter. Jinx’s voice suddenly called out from the other room. “Hey! The mischievous one is trying to climb the wall again! Who taught these kids to be such little daredevils?”

Ekko sighed, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “I wonder where they get it from.”

You laughed softly, wincing as the movement tugged at your side. “Maybe their dad?”

taglist. @diffusebread @xxblairslairxx @annybah @niredsw @stqrlxght @kriss-w @marilovz @blkmystery @multiverse-fandoms-2001 @turquoizxe @mishellii @kor-0suu @feelya @theamazingmilli @multim00n @m00nd0v3 @sodavrr @maialublmere @radtragedyarcade @spiderhook @night-fall-moon @ekkosh @hoonobono @bandletale @thesecondhandwoman @alientee @duchessmoooon @lilbunny1sworld @lil-kpopstan @mbekgsv @lulumallow @ametheslime @sunshiines-stuff @lolana101 @jadeash434 @hobieeeloverrr @misonesaturou @serene6728 @hellokittyfeenie

banner. @anitalenia art. not mine

[aplaceinme]

Buck reaches the top of the stairs and looks around. His eyes zero in on Eddie, sitting on the couch, doing something with his phone.

Looking down at his hand, Buck nods in decision and confidently walks over to Eddie. 

“Here,” Buck says, thrusting his hand out to Eddie.

“Jesus!” Eddie yelps, startled. “Buck, what the hell, man?”

“Just take this,” Buck says firmly, waving the thing he is holding. 

Eddie looks at him unimpressed, the familiar expression that says ‘why do I put up with you?’, but then he grabs the ticket. 

“This is a Lakers ticket,” Eddie says breathlessly. 

“Yeah, I know,” Buck says dejectedly, looking forlornly at the ticket. 

“Why are you giving me this? Not that I’m complaining!” 

Buck sits heavily on the armchair and tries to make himself look smaller. “Tommy gave it to me… it was a gift for our six-month anniversary.”

“Oh,” Eddie mouths the word and looks down at the ticket in apprehension. “Ok, that doesn’t really explain why you are giving it to me, though.” 

“I’m not giving it to you, or well, not really. I just need you to give it back to Tommy.” 

“Give it back?” Eddie asks confused. “Wait, he only got one ticket?” 

“No, of course not. He got two but… I- I’m keeping the other as a sort of, as a souvenir or memory or whatever,” Buck shrugs his shoulders, feeling a blush creeping up his neck. 

“Seriously? You’re not going?”

“I don’t want to go alone! The sear next to me will be empty and I just, I just know that I wouldn’t be able to enjoy it.” 

“If only you didn’t have a friend who likes basketball…” Eddie says drily. 

Sighing, Buck replies, “I know but it would be weird going with you instead of him… Just give it to him and tell him he can go!” 

“Are you sure?”

“I- Yeah, yeah, I’m sure,” Buck says, trying to sound confident but he is sure he doesn’t quite manage it. 

“Alright, buddy. I will do it,” Eddie replies, giving him that small smile filled with sympathy that he has been giving him since the break-up.

—

It’s the day of the game and Buck is lying down on his bed trying to forget about it. However, his eyes keep going to the little box under his dresser. After one too many times glancing at the box and then at the ceiling, Buck huffs and moves over to grab it. 

Buck sits down heavily on the bed and carefully opens the box. As soon as he sees the content, his stomach twists and he starts to get teary-eyed. He hadn’t planned to have a box, it sort of just happened. It started when Buck returned home from their coffee date and found the receipt for their coffee in his wallet. It had been an impulsive decision to save it instead of throwing it away. Soon after that, Buck started to keep other things: like the ticket for the first movie they saw together, the coaster of one of the bars they went to, a copy of the recipe of the first dish they cooked together, etc. 

After the break-up, Buck added to the box the pictures he had of both of them and the ticket for the Lakers game. He grabs it and turns it around, this way and that way. Eddie told him that Tommy didn’t want to accept the other ticket back and that he had tried to convince Eddie to go with Buck. In the end, he kept it but implied that he wasn’t going to go. 

Looking down at his watch, Buck realizes that he still has time to make it. He contemplates it for a couple of minutes and then he thinks fuck it and decides to go. 

—

“Hi, excuse me, sorry, sorry, excuse me,” Buck says as he shimmies through the seats. 

Once he finally reaches his empty seat, he looks up and freezes. 

“Tommy,” Buck breathes out, feeling as if his heart is about to explode from his chest. 

“Ev- Buck,” Tommy says, just as surprised. 

They don’t move, they just stay there standing, looking at each other like a deer caught in the headlights. 

“Fucking sit down, what the hell are you guys doing?” A man sitting in the row above yells at them. 

They both mumble their apologies and sit down, with their backs ramrod straight, and looking ahead. 

 “I’m sorry, I will go,” Tommy says after a while of awkward silence. “Eddie told me you weren’t going to come so I just decided at the last minute to come and.. Anyway, I will go.”

“No,” Buck says loudly, grabbing onto Tommy’s arm. 

Buck looks at his hand and exhales shakily. He swears he felt a shiver running through his spine as soon as he touched Tommy. His hands, his body, all of him has missed him terribly. 

“Sorry,” Buck lets go of the arm, even though it pains him to do so. “Stay, you don’t have to go. The game is about to start, just, please stay.” 

Tommy searches Buck’s face and, after a few agonizing seconds, he nods and sits more comfortably. 

Sighing in relief, Buck turns back to the court and tries to reassure himself that this is ok. Everything will be fine. Just two exes, sitting next to each other, watching a basketball game…

—

If you were to ask Buck how the game is going, what the score is, who is winning, and which player was the best at the moment, he would be unable to answer. He has no idea what has been happening, all he knows is that even though they are not touching, he can feel Tommy’s arm and leg right next to his. 

Even though he is surrounded by the smell of popcorn, hot dogs, and many other things, Buck swears that the only thing he can smell is Tommy’s oud cologne. All he wants to do is  turn to Tommy and nuzzle his face against his neck to be able to breathe in that smell. He has missed that smell terribly, his pillows and sheets had long ago lost any traces of it. 

Suddenly, he hears Tommy mutter, “Oh, shit.” 

Buck looks over quickly, fearing that Tommy is feeling ill or that something bad happened, but he sees him looking up at something. Following his gaze, he finds that they are on the stadium screens. The Kiss Cam has chosen them. 

Glancing back at Tommy, they make eye contact but make no other move. People around him cheer and yell at them to just do it. 

This might be the last time I get to feel his lips again… the last time I kiss him , Buck thinks. 

It is that thought that makes him shrug his shoulders sheepishly at Tommy, as if saying, “I’m down if you are.” 

Tommy glances at Buck’s lips and nods. They both lean in at the same time and when their lips touch, Buck feels as if he’s coming home. Kissing Tommy again is like getting a breath of fresh air. 

It isn’t until he hears someone yelling to get a room that Buck pulls away reluctantly. Tommy has his eyes closed and his mouth is still open a little bit. Buck wants to lean in and kiss him again. 

Once Tommy opens his eyes, Buck sees that there are tears in them. 

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry. I- I need to go,” Tommy says in a choked-up voice. 

Buck stays still, watching as, once again, Tommy walks away from him, from his life, from them. 

“Not again,” Buck says under his breath. 

Determined, he stands up and starts to follow him. 

“Sorry, sorry, excuse me.”

“You go get him, honey,” A woman sitting in the row above winks at him. 

Blushing, Buck nods and replies, “Thanks! I will!”

Once he is out of the stands, Buck starts to run, wanting to catch up to Tommy. As he reaches the part of the facilities where the concession stands and bathrooms are, he runs straight into someone. 

“Fuck!” Tommy says.

“Ouch!” “Buck replies. 

They look at each other and laugh awkwardly.

“Why were you returning? Did you forget something?” Buck asks, suddenly nervous and forgetting everything he wants to say to him. 

“Yeah, yeah, I forgot something,” Tommy tells him before pulling Buck close and kissing him even more passionately than before. 

After breaking the kiss, Tommy says breathlessly, “I’m sorry for running away… both times. I just got so scared about my feelings for you, and your feelings for me, and how you can so easily break me into pieces.” 

“I’m sorry too!” Buck tells him while cupping Tommy’s cheek. “I should have fought for you, I should have gone after you.” 

“No, no,” Tommy shakes his head vehemently. “I walked away so I was the one who had to return to you.”

Buck kisses him again, a short, sweet and tender kiss.

“I’m trying to be better, Evan. I’m going to work on not letting fear control me because I- I, well… I love you.”

Smiling brightly and feeling as if everything is right in the world, Buck replies, “I love you too… just as you are. And I will be there for you, and I will help you to not run away again when you get scared, ok?”

“Ok… god, I love you so much,” Tommy says, chuckling. 

“I love you too,” Buck replies again while kissing Tommy’s nose, cheeks, and mouth. 

[mephisto-reporting]

I Love You: Rafayel Edition

Premise:

Trope: Pure fluff Pairing: Reader x Rafayel Note: Reader and the men are NOT in a relationship. but there is implied mutual attraction.My inbox is open for prompts and requests :)

The door to Rafayel’s art studio creaked open with a low groan, revealing the delightful chaos you’d come to expect from him. The smell of turpentine and drying paint hung in the air, mingling with the faint trace of his cologne, still clinging to the fabric of his draped coats scattered across the furniture. Brushes were strewn across the floor like forgotten soldiers, and streaks of bright reds, blues, and golds marred every surface they could reach. His easel stood near the large bay window, bathed in the warm light of the setting sun, but the canvas was blank—typical.

Your lips curved into a fond smile as you carefully balanced the takeaway bag in your hands, its fragrant contents filling the room with the rich aroma of saffron butter lobster, a delicacy Rafayel adored. You'd made the extra effort to get it from his favorite little corner bistro across town, knowing how particular he was about its preparation. You could almost taste it yourself, though you knew the real joy would come when you saw his face light up in surprise. The food was just the excuse; it was your way of showing you cared, in the only way you knew how.

Everything about this place felt so distinctly him: vibrant, alive, chaotic—and somehow, it always made your heart feel at ease. On days when the world seemed too heavy, when exhaustion clung to your bones like a second skin, or even on days when your heart was full to bursting with happiness, this was where you found yourself.

“Rafayel!” you called, your voice carrying through the disarray.

There was no response at first, just the faint rustling of papers somewhere deeper in the studio. Then, a muffled voice, drowsy and half-hearted: “Mmm… what is it? Just leave it on the counter…”

You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “You know, one of these days, I’m going to walk in and find you buried under all this paint,” you muttered, mostly to yourself, as you set the bag on the counter in the tiny kitchen space, careful not to knock over an open jar of brushes.

You made your way toward his bedroom, following the source of his sleepy mumblings. The door was slightly ajar, and when you pushed it open, your heart stuttered in your chest.

There he was, curled up under a rumpled duvet, his face half-buried in the pillow, soft wavy locks falling haphazardly across his forehead. He looked peaceful, his usual sharp edges smoothed out in the quiet vulnerability of sleep. The rise and fall of his chest was steady, rhythmic, lulling you into a moment of stillness. Your heart gave a little lurch, and your fingers twitched with the need to touch him, to just feel close to him for a second. You slowly crossed the room, the soft creak of the floorboards under your feet the only sound in the otherwise silent room. Rafayel didn’t stir, still lost in the depths of his sleep.

“Rafayel,” you whispered gently, your voice barely above a breath, not wanting to disturb the peaceful moment too harshly. He didn’t respond. Not even a slight shift in his posture. He was deep in sleep, completely oblivious to the world around him.

You crouched beside the bed, your hand hovering above his arm, hesitating for just a moment before you placed it gently on his shoulder. The warmth of his skin radiated beneath the fabric of his shirt, and your heart skipped a beat at the feel of him—so close, so tangible. Your touch was soft, just a light shake, meant to wake him without startling him too much.

But still, he didn’t wake. He just shifted slightly, mumbling something incoherent, his voice thick with sleep. You couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips as you watched him, your heart swelling in your chest. This was him. Carefree, a little bratty, but so easy to fall for. Even when he was asleep, you could see that side of him that you adored so much—the part of him that no one else saw.

“Rafayel,” you repeated, a little more insistently this time, brushing a strand of his hair away from his face as you leaned down slightly. His features softened in his sleep, and for a moment, you simply watched him, breathing in the quiet, wishing you could keep him here, in this moment, forever.

He remained blissfully unaware, sinking deeper into his cocoon of blankets, a faint sigh escaping his lips. You huffed a quiet laugh, feeling the corners of your eyes prickle with emotion. The intimacy of the scene, the quiet domesticity of it, filled you with an aching sort of joy and longing.

You really were in love with him.

And yet, you couldn’t bring yourself to say it. The words tangled themselves in your throat, caught between fear and hope. What if he dismissed it with one of his trademark teasing quips? Or worse, what if he didn’t feel the same way?

But as you sat there, watching him sleep so peacefully, you couldn’t help but wonder—what if he did?

Sighing lightly, you shifted closer and sat at the edge of the bed, carefully brushing your fingers along his cheek. The familiar feeling of his soft skin, the heat of his presence even in sleep, made your chest tighten. You found yourself gazing at him, heart aching with the truth you hadn’t yet dared to voice.

This was it, wasn’t it? This was the moment. The moment you had been waiting for, even though it scared you.

You hadn’t planned for it. The words hadn’t been rehearsed in your mind, but they slipped out anyway, so natural and so real, as if they had always been waiting to be said.

"I love you," you whispered, your voice barely audible, yet full of every emotion you had kept hidden for so long.

The words hung in the air, soft as the warm glow of the setting sun that filtered through the cracks in the blinds. I love you. The phrase had slipped from your lips almost without thinking, like it was always meant to be said in that moment. But as soon as they left you, your heart thudded in your chest, as if it recognized the enormity of the confession you had just made.

Your breath caught in your throat as a wave of panic washed over you. Had he heard? Had you really just said it out loud? The room suddenly felt too small, too intimate, as if the walls were pressing in, waiting for him to react.

You stood up quickly, a quiet flush creeping up your neck as you considered leaving the room before he could tease you about it—before the reality of your feelings could settle in. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but the last thing you anticipated was the sudden, sharp tug on your wrist.

With a startled yelp, you were pulled back onto the bed, landing softly on the plush duvet. A laugh—half playful, half lazy—escaped from Rafayel’s lips as he wrapped his arm around your waist, pulling you snugly against him. His warmth enveloped you instantly, and his body pressed close behind you as he spooned you, his breath hot against your neck.

Your heart raced in your chest, pounding like a drum as your mind scrambled to catch up. He heard.

“I heard that,” he said, his voice low and controlled, a smirk lacing his words. There was no teasing, no mockery, just the barest trace of something... softer. “You… love me.”

You tried to pull away, your chest tightening, but his arm was an unyielding weight, keeping you exactly where he wanted you. His fingers tightened around your wrist, holding you gently but firmly against him.

You froze, your heartbeat echoing in your ears as your skin prickled with both warmth and nervousness. You hadn’t thought he had heard it, not with how quiet it had been, how small your voice had been. You swallowed, unsure of what to say.

"Y-you were dreaming," you muttered, though it didn’t sound convincing even to your own ears.

He chuckled softly, a sound that sent shivers through you. The next words that left his mouth were not teasing, not playful, but serious—intentional. "Then why does your heart feel like a fish swimming away in a current?"

The question was simple, but it made you freeze, your breath hitching as the truth of your feelings settled like a heavy weight in your chest. You couldn’t deny it. Not to him. Not anymore.

Before you could respond, his arm wrapped around you more tightly, pulling you closer until you could feel the steady beat of his heart against your back. His face pressed into your hair, his breath warm against your scalp as he inhaled deeply, as if memorizing your scent.

He stayed there for a long moment, his body a comforting, grounding presence behind you. Then, with a soft, almost playful command, he spoke again.

“Say it again,” he whispered, his voice a little rough. “Say it again. I want to be sure.”

Your pulse raced. This was real now. There was no going back. His words, his presence, made the room feel smaller, but somehow safer, as if the world outside didn’t matter at this very moment.

You inhaled shakily, turning your head slightly to meet the fabric of the pillow, and in a breathless whisper, you said it again.

“I love you.”

The words felt different this time—stronger, more sure. As soon as they left your lips, you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you into his chest as if he never wanted to let go. He buried his face in your hair once more, his lips brushing against your ear.

"It took you long enough to admit it,” he teased, his voice laced with a bratty affection. “I’ve been waiting to hear that, you know."

You laughed softly, a nervous, relieved sound that trembled at the edges, but his tone shifted, the playfulness slipping away. His voice dropped to something much softer, much deeper, as he whispered against your ear. "But I've been waiting to hear that... for so long. Waiting to hear you."

Your chest tightened, and you could feel the warmth of his breath against your skin, his heart steady and strong beneath you. “I love you too, so so much. You have no idea the things I would do for you... to keep you like this., in my arms.” he said, so quietly, as though he hadn’t said it out loud for fear of it being taken away, yet there was no doubt in his voice, no hesitation.

You didn’t know how long the silence stretched between you, but it felt like time itself had slowed to a crawl. The only sound in the room was the rhythm of your breathing, and the sound of your two hearts beating in perfect harmony, as if they had always been meant to beat together.

But you shifted, just a little, as if instinctively trying to move, to pull away—something in you telling you to give him space, even though you didn’t want to. He wasn’t having it.

"I’m not letting you go anywhere, cutie…" Rafayel murmured, his voice low and possessive. You were about to protest, to say something, but before you could, he tugged you even closer, trapping you against him, his arm locking around you like a vice. You felt a surge of warmth sweep through you, a sudden softness, and his voice came again, teasing, but this time with a gentle, almost adoring lilt.

"You can be my plushie for tonight," he said, a playful, lazy grin creeping into his tone, even though the words were laced with the kind of affection you rarely saw from him. "And the next night...and the night after...and forever more."

You didn’t argue. You didn’t want to. For tonight, for as long as this moment lasted, you could stay here, wrapped in his warmth, his scent, his arms.

And as you settled back against his chest, your heart still fluttering, you knew, with complete certainty, that this was exactly where you were supposed to be.

AN: reblogs, feedback and opinions are appreciated!

[alexthebordercollie]

it's nice to see mystery trio aus that aren't fiddlestan tbh. The amount of times I'll see one, think it looks interesting, and then it just turns into "wow Stan, you're so much nicer and cooler than your lame brother! Lets date!" And act like it's some kind of karma for Ford or something.

I definitely agree with your take that so often fiddlestan is just used as a way to express dislike of Ford, while ignoring any of Stan's canonical flaws

As a side note, since this is more of personal headcanon territory, but i think Stan would find Fiddleford too reminiscent of Ford when he was young to actually be interested.

Anyway, i always love to see Stan in his natural habitat (being a chaotic uncle)

I love the idea of the Mystery Trio. I think these three would play off each other really well. They're cute and funny together, but you don't need Fiddlestan. It feels like people treat it as a given that if offered the choice between Stan and Ford Fidds would choose Stan. Which is kind of shitty. (Low key it kind of reads to me like Ford is assumed the worse partner because he's autistic :/ even if people aren't consciously treating him that way.)

I think it's kind of presumptuous to assume Fidds would be into Stan anyway. Like physically attracted to him? Sure, obviously. If he finds Ford attractive odds are good Stan would also be nice to look at, but relationships aren't just physical attraction and it's obvious from the journals and BOB that Fidds had a very strong connection to Ford. If he's in love with an autistic nerd enough to throw his life away for him why would people assume Stans's wildly contrasting personality would somehow be more appealing?

I've actually had this comic kicking around in my mind for a while and this ask gave me a good excuse to draw it. (Though it took longer than expected)

While I don't think Fidds would ever choose Stan over Ford, I do think Ford would be a bit of a jealous and insecure partner. He's used to a lot of social rejection and struggles to maintain connections with people. Not to mention trust issues, especially after Bill who tried to sabotage his faith in Fiddleford in particular.

I wouldn't put it past Ford to get antsy seeing Fidds get along with his brother even if there's absolutely nothing going on there.

Also, I hadn't considered the suggestion that Stan might find Fidds nerdiness a turn-off because it reminds him too much of his brother, but yeah I could see it. Still, I'd buy Stan being interested in Fidds before I could really see the other way around happening. I think Stanley's tastes are bit broader but Fiddleford I imagine to have a bit more of a type. At least where romantic attraction is concerned. That said I don't think Fiddleford's actual tastes are really considered, I think he gets shipped with Stanley by people who want to see Stanley get that kind of overbearing love that Fidds showed to Ford. I do understand wanting to give him that kind of partner but Ford deserves love too, we don't need to be taking his healthy romantic option away from him and leave him with Bill. (His abuser.)

[grapejuicenharry]

Based on this request !!

warnings: smut, 18+, daddy kink, eating out, fingering.

✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆ . ✶⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶. ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶ ⋆.˚꩜ .ᐟ˙⋆✶

Y/N was in the kitchen, slicing lemons as the afternoon sunlight streamed through the windows. It was a pleasant, sunny day, and she had decided to make some lemonade. However, she had been feeling annoyed and moody since the morning—everything seemed to irritate her, leaving her grumpy.

Lost in the mundane rhythm of her task, she was absentmindedly focused on her lemons and didn't notice when he entered the room.

It wasn't until Harry's arms slid around her waist from behind, pulling her back against his bare, solid chest, that she gasped in surprise. His faint cologne lingered in the air, wrapping around her like a second skin.

"Morning, darling," he murmured, his lips brushing against her ear.

"It's not morning," she replied quickly, rolling her eyes, though her pulse quickened at the heat of him pressed so close.

"It is when I say it is," Harry countered, his voice low and husky, his beard lightly scraping against her jaw as he spoke. His hand settled firmly on her hip, turning her slightly so her back was fully pressed to his chest. "Been ignoring me all day."

It was true-she'd been giving him attitude all day, snapping at him and brushing him off for no real reason. She hadn't kissed him since morning either, using a quick "I'm busy" as her excuse. And she secretly loved it. Testing his patience, watching the subtle shift in his jaw when she pushed too far. She knew exactly what she was doing. It was a dangerous game, but she couldn't resist. The thought of him snapping, putting her in her place, sent a thrill through her. She wanted him to lose control-wanted him to spank her and edge her when she is close. 

She even wore his favorite dress, fully aware that it would drive him wild. As she moved around the house, she casually did chores, brushing past him and leaning down just enough to tease him with her cleavage. Each time he asked her to come closer, she playfully denied him. He knew what game she was playing, and it was driving him to the brink of insanity.

.༘ ˚⋆𐙚｡⋆𖦹.✧˚

“I was busy," she said nonchalantly, though the hitch in her breath betrayed her as his fingers traced slow circles over her waist.

"Too busy for me?" His tone darkened, teasing but edged with something more, something that made her stomach twist.

"Harry—“ she warned, but her voice was barely above a whisper.

"What's that?" His lips grazed over the curve of her neck, sending a shiver down her spine.

"That's not what you call me, is it?" Her hands stilled on the counter, the knife slipping from her fingers with a dull thud. Her breath hitched as he turned her fully, pinning her between the counter and his body.

"Say it," he murmured, tilting her chin up with his fingers. "Be a good girl and say it for me."

Her cheeks flushed a deeper shade of red. Her heart pounded in her chest. She bit her lip, but the way he looked at her-demanding, dominant-made it impossible to resist.

"Daddy," she breathed, her voice soft and barely audible. A slow smile spread across his lips. "That's my girl," he said, brushing his thumb against her bottom lip. "You're so good for me, aren't you?"

She nodded, her body a mess of trembling need. Her heart thumped loudly in her chest, and her panties were damp with arousal. Her pulse quickened as his hand trailed down her thigh, gripping it firmly.

"Turn around," he ordered. She obeyed, her breath catching as his hands guided her back to the counter. The cool surface pressed against her palms, making her shiver even though heat pooled in her belly. Harry's presence behind her was intoxicating— his scent, his warmth, the sound of his breathing.

His hands slid against her sides, his lips trailing kisses along her jaw and neck. "Look at you," he murmured. "Always so perfect for me."

Her knees wobbled slightly as his hands found the hem of her dress, bunching it up around her waist. He smoothed his palm over the curve of her ass before landing a sharp spank. She gasped, the sting making her arch back against him. "Do you like teasing me, sweetheart?" he asked, his tone sweet yet laced with dominance.

"Yes," she panted, her voice trembling with need.

"Yes, what?" His lips brushed against her ear, his breath sending shivers down her spine.

"Yes, Daddy," she whimpered, her cheeks burning with embarrassment and desire.

He hummed in satisfaction, his hand slipping between her thighs. She jerked under his touch as he pressed his thumb to her clit.

"You're always so ready for me," he muttered, his fingers moving in slow circles. "Do you know how much that drives me crazy?"

Her head fell back against his shoulder, her eyes fluttering shut. But he wasn't done-not even close.

"Eyes open," he commanded, gripping her chin and tilting her head forward. "I want you to see what you do to me.

"She forced her eyes open, meeting his gaze in the reflection of the kitchen window. The sight of him—his darkened eyes, flushed skin, and messy hair sent a thrill coursing through her.

"You're mine," he said. "Say it."

"I'm yours," she gasped as his hands roamed her body, tugging her dress straps down to expose her skin.

"That's my good girl," he murmured, pressing a kiss to her temple.

"Please, Harry," she begged, her body trembling with need.

"What do you want, sweetheart?" he asked, his tone teasing as he kissed the swell of her breast.

"I want to cum," she whispered, her voice breaking.

Harry dropped to his knees behind her, pulling her panties down in one swift motion. The cold marble beneath her hands grounded her, but the heat pooling in her belly was impossible to ignore.

His mouth met her center, his tongue flicking and circling relentlessly. Each stroke sent her closer to the edge, her body trembling as he gripped her thighs to keep her still.

"Harry, please," she gasped, her voice a mix of desperation and pleasure.

"Not yet," he murmured, pulling back slightly.

"You think you can tease me all day and get what you want so easily?"

She whimpered, her legs trembling. "Please, Daddy," she begged, her tone pleading.

Who was he to deny her when she begged so sweetly? With a groan, he dove back in, his tongue and fingers working in perfect sync. The pressure built quickly, and with one final stroke, she shattered, crying out his name as her orgasm tore through her.

"Look at you," Harry muttered, licking her clean. Her body shook with aftershocks as he stood, gripping her hips tightly to steady her.

“You’re not done yet, sweetheart.” He murmured.

Harry turned her around swiftly, the action making her slightly dizzy, but she steadied when his lips crashed against hers.

The kiss was messy, desperate, and filled with raw intensity. She could taste herself on his lips, which only made her moan against his mouth.

Her hands slid into his hair, tugging at the soft strands hard enough to draw a groan from him. The sound sent a thrill down her spine, and she arched into him, feeling the hard length of his cock against her belly.

"Turn back around," he demanded, his voice rough with need. She obeyed instantly, her body pliant under his control. The cool air hit her heated skin as he pushed his boxers down, freeing himself.

Her breath hitched when he pressed himself against her, his cock sliding between her slick folds in teasing strokes.

"Harry," she whimpered, trying to push back against him, but his hands gripped her hips, holding her still.

"Patience," he murmured, his tone firm. "You'll take what I give you.”

Slowly, he pushed into her, stretching her inch by inch until he was fully seated inside her. She gasped, her fingers gripping the edge of the counter as he let her adjust.

"Always so fucking tight for me," he muttered, his voice strained.

"Move, please," she whispered, her voice trembling. He didn't need to be told twice. He pulled out almost completely before thrusting back into her, setting a pace that made her moan loudly.

Each snap of his hips hit her perfectly, her body melting into the counter as she took every thrust.

"Look at you," he groaned, one hand slipping around to toy with her clit while the other gripped her hip. "Taking me so well, sweetheart."

Her legs shook as the pressure inside her built higher and higher.

"Harry—l-I'm gonna—” she stammered, her voice breaking as the pressure in her belly increasing.

“Cum for me," he growled, his pace quickening. "Be my good girl and cum all over my cock.”

That was all it took. Her body tensed, and she came with a loud cry, her walls clenching around him as she fall apart.

"Fuck, Y/N," Harry groaned, his thrusts turning sloppy as he chased his own release. He buried himself deep inside her one last time, his hands gripping her hips tightly as he spilled inside her.

He pulled out gently, both of them whimpering as their arousal dripped down her thighs.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies pressed together as they caught their breath. Harry leaned forward, pressing a soft kiss on her shoulder. "I love you, baby," he murmured, his voice low and sweet. She smiled, turning her head slightly to meet his gaze. "I love you more.”

[oatmealspet]

I think there’s also a difference between forgiving yourself and forgiving your actions tbh

You can forgive yourself and still be critical of the actions and choices you made. I think a lot of people misunderstand that part and assume to forgive yourself implies that you are also absolving yourself from doing a bad thing or abusive action when thats simply not true. I can forgive myself for being a little shit in the past that treated someone poorly or did something way out of line, but I’m not excusing the behavior by doing so. I will always feel bad for doing a bad thing, but forgiving myself is a necessary part of the growing process in order to learn from those mistakes.

No one improves by constantly reminding themselves that every bad decision they made makes them impossibly irredeemable. The consequences will still exist regardless of if you forgive yourself or not.

People who think that it’s wrong to do this need to really think some more because I guarantee you you have also fucked up at some point and you also need to be able to forgive yourself in order to not repeat the patterns of bad behavior.

And if it’s not clear from all the other parts of this post, forgiving yourself does not mean others also need to forgive you too. That would be the consequential part of your actions that you have to live with.

the thing is, if your younger self was a bigot or an abuser, u can't make people forgive you. but you still gotta forgive yourself, like that's non-negotiable, dude. that happens before u can even ask the question of earning forgiveness from anyone lese

[nightingale-prompts]

Pre-wedding Blues-Beholder AU- DCxDP(Danny x Tim)

Beholder series

Tim fucked up. Like he fucked up bad. But he knows he fucked up.

He...um...

...Slept with Danny..

But not before...

...Kissing Phantom.

And all in one night so bravo.

This was a B level fuck up. This family must be cursed with terrible relationship skills.

Before you say anything there is a perfectly resonable explanation.

Tim had a late patrol. Not because he was too nervous to return home now that he realized he had feelings for his unofficial roommate. No he was just making sure the city was free of rouges. He certainly wasn't brooding on a rooftop trying to push down his feelings because feelings were uncomfortable and weird. He doesn't brood, that's a B or Jason thing.

Then Phantom flew by so he chased. And then a very dumb thought came to mind when he caught up. Maybe he didn't have feelings for Danny. Maybe he just thought Danny was attractive and Phantom was attractive too. Maybe he had a type for mysterious and dark men.

So they bantered a bit. He knew Phantom thought he was good-looking, so he went for it. And yeah, he liked it. Phantom must have, too, because for a moment, he leaned into the kiss. However, Tim felt like shit when he saw the fury in Phantom's eyes. Tim escaped after Phantom tried to rip his head off and knew if the ghost ever saw him again, he was as good as dead.

Tom knew he fucked up. He knew that Phantom like someone else and that someone was likely Danny. But should he care if he also liked Danny? But if he liked Danny why would it feel good to kiss someosne else knowing that it wasn't honest? Did he really like Danny then?

The questions swirled in his head as he opened the door to his apartment and saw Danny looking disheveled. He didn't even look at Tim as walked to the kitchen and poured himself a drink.

"Danny is everything-"

"Its fine!" He said immediately as he took a shot.

It wasn't fine. Something happed. Was it connected to Phantom? Maybe a breakup? Tim couldn't be that lucky.

Even thinking that felt shitty. He shouldn't hope that Danny was hurt. But he still did hope Phantom would be out of their lives.

Says the person who kissed him as an experiment.

Danny paced mumbling to himself and cursing. Whatever happened it got him riled up.

Tim tried to get him to talk and then they sat down and had a few drinks and...

Well, Danny kissed him. A desperate needy kiss like it was the last one he'd ever have. And then one thing led to another. Tim still wasn't sure if this meant he was actually in love with Danny or was this was just him using another person. He had already betrayed the feelings he thought he had and now he was taking advantage of Danny's sadness.

But fuck, it felt so good.

In the morning he felt like he had grown devil horns and a tail. He was awful. There was no excuse for this. He had taken advantage of two people. He used Danny, his friend who trusted him because he couldn't control his feelings. He used Phantom in hopes to elevate his guilt for liking his friend by convincing himself that his feeling weren't real.

Where does that leave him now? Sharing his bed with Danny knowing he can't tell him any of this. What does that make them now? Friends? Friends with benefits? Boyfriends?

Whatever this was felt good but I also felt so wrong. Like he took a shortcut on a marathon route and still got first place.

Tim pushed these discorded feelings down as deep as he could manage. He wanted this right? Just yesterday we wondered what this would be like and now he had it and he had the nerve to complain.

Danny wanted HIM. He never mentioned Phantom so Phantom doesn't matter. Danny was sad and upset and Tim was there like a good friend comforted him. This is perfectly normal.

These thoughts were like the voice of a smiling devil on his shoulder telling him not to worry.

Tim thinks that this is probably what Dick calls a crisis and "needs brotherly advice". Tim hates to admit it but he needs to talk to someone even if its one of the chucklefucks he calls his brothers.

*****

On the otherside of the bed Danny was having a crisis of his own.

He was kissed by Red Robin and he even kissed back. How could he? He had a fiancé, a wonderful one at that. Had he really cheated on Tim?

They hadn't even kissed yet but there he was locking lips with a vigilante. He even had the nerve to wonder why Red Robin was so willing but his own love hadn't tried.

Danny wanted to kill that little punk for this but he knew he didn't want the Bat clan hunting him after. Still, it would keep what happened a secret.

Maybe this was his fault. He had playfully flirted with him in the past. So maybe he got the wrong message.

Danny retreated back to the apartment where he began tieing himself in knots trying to figure out if he should tell Tim. Tim didn't know Phantom but he should still tell him about the kiss. That would be honest, but if Tim knew he kissed back then that would hurt him.

By this point, a bit of alcohol told him the answer. If he's so worried about how unfair it was to Tim that he kissed someone else first then he should make it fair. Be bold and go for it. If he gives Tim everything then one little kiss is meaningless. Problem solved.

Isn't that how cheaters think though?

Of course not. Danny didn't even like Robin like that. Robin was cute and funny but his heart belonged to Tim. Plus Robin kissed him not the other way around. He's a victim in all of this. He can just overwrite this little mistake and make sure that Robin never breathes a word of this. Maybe send one of his ghosts Robin's way to remind him not to cross Danny. How else can he protect his future marriage?

The words felt slimy as they crawled to the surface of Danny's brain.

This was exhausting. Can't he just enjoy being with Tim without all this bullshit in the way? Seriously nothing can be easy in his life. He should talk to someone. Jazz always gives sensible advice but she gets so overbearing. OG Vlad gives the worst advice and the new one is only marginally better. Mom and Dad, no.

Danny needed someone older and wiser.

(a healthy dose of angst)(for flavor)

(Sorry no smut here. I'd have to write an alternate chapter for it for those who want to see it)

[marauder-misprint]

Eek I’m the one that asked about requests, so excited you’re taking them!

My idea was fem!reader x whichever marauder you want (not Pete sorry not sorry) where the reader is flirty but not in a hitting on everyone and pickup lines type of way. It’s in a she’s very friendly, likes to give out compliments just cause she wanted to, and is just warm and open to people type of way.

Ngl im a sucker for some angst with a happy ending so if that somehow works with whatever idea you come up with that would be cool but no pressure!

I hope this sounds like something you’d wnjiy writing but again no pressure at all<3

I hope this has that kind of vibe you were going for! Thank you for being my first request - I'm very excited and very nervous for this. ♡

Sunshine Incarnate

Remus Lupin x fem!reader

1.8k words

cw: fluff, angst

“God, she’s such a fucking tease,” Sirius sighs, leaning back in a plush armchair in the library.

“Who is?” Remus asks, not looking up from his book.

“Her,” he answers, gesturing toward you. “Little Miss Sunshine herself.”

Remus’ gaze shoots up, first looking at Sirius and then at you. You were talking with some Ravenclaw boy, absorbed in the conversation and oblivious to the rest of the library.

“A tease?” Remus asks.

Sirius hums. “Whenever you talk to her, she gives you these eyes. Then she’ll give you some flirty comment and walk away. Fucking. Tease.”

“Don’t talk about her that way,” Remus growls, still not looking away from you.

“Remus, you’ve experienced what he’s talking about though, right?” Peter asks. “She sits next to you in Herbology.”

Remus has experienced the eyes that Sirius is describing. When you talked to someone, they had your entire attention. You were fully engaged. He’d also been on the receiving end of your compliments before as well; he replayed them in his head when he was feeling low. But Remus would be an idiot to ignore that you did this with everyone. 

“Oh my god, I love your hair like that!”

“That’s brilliant! You’re a genius.” 

“I haven’t read that book before. Is it any good?” “Yeah, It’s my favorite.” “Yeah? Tell me about it.”

It’s who you are. As Sirius had called you, you are Little Miss Sunshine. You brightened every room you entered and made everyone feel important. Remus didn’t think there was a single person in all of Hogwarts who didn’t like you. How could they? 

“Remus?” Peter repeats, tossing a crumpled piece of parchment at him.

“Huh? What?”

“Wormy asked you about Sunshine’s eyes and you zoned,” James says. He’s busy working on an essay that the rest of the group had already finished. 

“Of course. Yes. Although I think it’s called active listening,” Remus says, sounding more irritated than he intended. “Something you could work on,” he adds on in a grumble. 

“My ears work just fine, thank you very much,” Sirius says. 

Then his face lights up and he waves at you. You had briefly turned away from the Ravenclaw boy and Sirius’ wave caught your eye. You wave back, excuse yourself and make your way to the Gryffindors. 

“Hi!” you say cheerfully. “Remus, that sweater looks really soft.”

His face flushed at your words. He could barely mutter out a thanks. 

“What’re you working on?” you ask, standing next to Remus. You’re looking at the pages of the book he’s reading, hoping to see a title at the top of the pages but there’s nothing to go off of, not even a diagram to say if it was a Herbology or Charms book. 

“That damned Potions essay,” James answers. 

“Good thing you’re not too shabby in that class then,” you say with a smile. “Can’t be too difficult.”

James looks up from his essay to return your smile. “It’s not. Just annoying to do.”

“Annoying to do is my Divination dream journal!” you reply with a giggle. “Like I need a teacher knowing what happens in my subconscious.”

“I’d like to know what happens in your subconscious,” Sirius says, now leaning forward. 

You give him an eye roll. “Become a Divination tutor and maybe. Remus, did you do that Herbology worksheet yet?”

“Uh, yeah. Yeah, I did. Yesterday.” 

“Shoot, I was hoping we could work on it together. You’re so much better at Herbology than I am.”

“Oh, it’s not too difficult,” he says, briefly looking up from his book to give you a smile.

You’re already looking at him with those eyes and a smile. Butterflies take flight in his stomach. He has to look away quickly, despite not wanting to. 

“Okay,” you say, bouncing on your toes. “I’ll see you later.”

As you walk away, Peter hits Remus with a roll of parchment.

“Are you daft?” he whispers, unsure if you’re out of earshot yet. “She was flirting with you.”

He shakes his head. “No, she wasn’t.”

“She wanted to work on Herbology homework with you.”

“Because we share the class? And I’m smart?”

“You’re daft,” James confirms.

The rest of the afternoon and into the evening, Remus is replaying the conversation. Had you been flirting with him? Actually flirting or being your kind self? Even if you were flirting with him, you’d certainly stop as soon as you found out that he was a werewolf. Sunshine incarnate could not be with someone who turns with the moon. He was Moony for goodness sake. But she had complimented both his sweater and Herbology skills in one conversation with only James also receiving a compliment. How had he earned two compliments over Sirius? With all of your kindness and Sirius’ natural charisma, you two usually bantered like an entertaining yet sickening tennis match. 

“You know, the things I would do to her if she said the word,” Sirius says, bringing Remus out of his thoughts. 

“Still on about Sunshine, are you?” James asks.

“Still on about Evans?” Sirius retorts.

“Would it kill you to shut up and stay away from her?” Remus snaps.

Sirius and James shoot him a confused look. He had been mostly quiet since leaving the library, but it was Remus. He just did that sometimes. 

“Stay away from her?” Sirius repeats. “From Madam Sunshine herself? Why would I do that?”

“She’s the sweetest,” James adds with a smirk. 

“Yeah, I know,” Remus grumbles. “She doesn’t need you assholes to bring her down.”

“I’m not bringing her down,” James says defensively.

“Just leave her out of your… fantasies.”

“Why?” Sirius presses.

“Just, it’s… it’s you,” Remus says, gesturing wildly. 

“Yeah, and?” Sirius asks, leaning forward toward Remus with narrowing eyes. 

“You’re messy.” Remus pauses. “We’re messy.”

“So we’re all staying away from her?” Peter asks. 

“I, uh, I guess so.” 

Remus couldn’t tell his three closest friends to stay away from her because they were messy and not include himself, possibly the messiest of the group. But, god, he wanted to be close to you. He wanted to hold you and be held by you. He wanted to kiss your perfect smile that was ever present on your perfect lips. He wanted to be the reason your gorgeous eyes lit up. He wanted you to look for him in the room. He wanted you to be his sunshine. 

Sirius shares a knowing look with James and Peter that Remus misses. Though he had tried to be subtle, his friends know when Remus is down bad, and he is for you. 

---

In Remus’ presence, you’re no longer a topic of discussion. The boys successfully steer all conversations away from you. Remus doesn’t think anything of it, assuming they actually listened to him and are staying away from you and all your perfectness. 

That is, until you walk over and sit next to Remus at lunch. You set your books down gently and give the boys a smile.

“That’s our cue to leave. See you in Dark Arts, Moony,” Sirius says with a grin. James and Peter follow him away from the table, leaving you alone with him. 

“That was… weird,” Remus mumbles, watching them leave before turning his attention back to you. 

He tries to hide the confusion on his face, but you see it anyway.

“Did you not… did you not ask me to practice nonverbal spells with you?”

Remus stares at you blankly. “No?”

You pull out a piece of parchment and hand it to him.

“I got this at breakfast.”

It was a note, in Sirius’ handwriting no less, asking you to meet at lunch to practice spells. When he looks up from the note, you are biting your lip with a hopeful look on your face. 

“Even if it’s not from you, would you mind practicing? I’m rubbish at them and, well, you’re great at everything.” 

Remus feels his face heat at the compliment. 

“You’re not rubbish at them.”

“No, I really am! I try them all the time and they never work! I’ve tried to levitate notes to you in Transfiguration and the stupid notes never lift more than a centimeter off the desk!” you ramble.

“Notes… to me?” 

It’s your turn to blush. You had never successfully passed a note to him. The notes that never made it to him often had compliments on them; the most recent had been to ask him to Hogsmeade. But when you continuous failed to get them to him, you had taken that as a sign from the universe that it wasn’t meant to be, but you weren’t one to give up easily. Maybe you were misreading the signs and you needed to go to him for help. So when you received the note from fake Remus, you were over the moon. 

“Oh, yeah. Just little comments about lessons. Nothing too important,” you lie. 

“You were trying to give me notes…” Remus mutters, still in disbelief that you were writing notes to him in the first place, even if they were ‘little comments.’

“Yes?”

You’re not sure what gives you the boldness, but you dig through your bag again and pull out some of the notes. You’re not sure why you kept them, but you did. 

“Okay, little comments, yes. About the lessons, not really.”

You hold out one for him to take.

You mastered teacup to gerbil quickly. You’re amazing!

“That, uh, that should be the first one.”

His hands are shaking as he reads it over and over. 

“You kept them?”

You nod, a little unsure. He reaches out and takes the rest from your hands. You feel your blush grow as he reads each other. It’s only a slight comfort that his blush is also increasing with each note. 

He looks up at you with a curious expression that’s topped with hopeful eyes.

“You were going to ask me to Hogsmeade?”

You open your mouth to speak but words don’t come out. You nod.

“If the offer still stands, I’d, uh, I’d love you. I’d love to. Ahem. I’d love to go to Hogsmeade with you.”

You’re certain your face is as red as his. 

“This weekend then?”

“Yeah,” he breathes. 

You lean in and kiss his cheek, your own boldness surprising you yet again.

“We can, erm, work on nonverbals later. I’ll see you later, Remus.” 

He watches you leave the Great Hall in a hurry. His hand slowly comes up to touch the spot where you had kissed him. Maybe, just maybe, you had been flirting with him. 

---

“How did that go, Moony?”

“You are bastards. All of you.”

“How did it go?”

“She kissed me,” he says, still blushing furiously.

“I told you!” Sirius cheers. “I told you he was projecting.”

“Projecting?”

“Mate, you called us messy. I mean, yeah, we are, but it’s your tell.”

[amirasainz]

https://www.tumblr.com/amirasainz/768246287260942336/i-have-a-request-for-lando-norris-x-sisterreader

if you would could you write a part two?

like she really leaned on lando but also ollie and ollie was serious when he could he her bf …. and they get together

Enjoy reading and send some requests!!!

-xoxo babygirl 🧡

Part 1

Big Brother to the Rescue Part 2

The following months were a whirlwind for Yn. Since that difficult weekend at the Grand Prix, Lando had made it his mission to bring her along to as many races as possible. At first, she’d been hesitant, worried about being a distraction. But Lando insisted.

“Come on, Yn,” he said one evening over dinner. “I drive better when I know you’re there. You’re like my good luck charm.”

Yn snorted. “You can’t use me as an excuse for a bad weekend, you know.”

“Never,” Lando said with a grin. “So, what do you say? Come to the next one?”

She agreed, and soon, race weekends became a regular part of her life again.

---

At first, Lando kept a close eye on her. He’d constantly check in—asking if she needed anything, cracking jokes to make her laugh, and making sure she wasn’t overthinking about her ex. But as the months passed, Yn’s laughter returned, and her smile became brighter.

Lando couldn’t help but notice the change. She seemed genuinely happy again, which filled him with relief. But something gnawed at him. Why?

---

It was during a particularly busy race weekend when Lando finally got his answer. The McLaren garage was bustling with engineers, mechanics, and team members preparing the cars for qualifying. Lando had just finished a debrief and decided to swing by the garage to check on Yn.

As he stepped inside, he froze.

There she was, standing off to the side with Ollie.

They were deep in conversation, their faces lit up with wide smiles. Yn’s laugh echoed softly over the hum of activity, and Lando narrowed his eyes. Why is he making her laugh like that?

Then he saw it.

Ollie leaned in, saying something that made Yn blush and look down shyly. And before she could tuck a strand of hair behind her ear, Ollie gently did it for her.

Lando’s jaw tightened.

Oh no, no, no.

He started striding toward them, fully prepared to put an end to whatever this was. But before he could take more than a few steps, a hand caught his arm.

It was Oscar.

“Where are you going?” Oscar asked, his tone calm but firm.

“To remind Ollie that he’s not allowed to flirt with my sister,” Lando said through gritted teeth.

Oscar raised an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Why?” Lando repeated incredulously. “Because she’s my little sister. That’s why.”

Oscar glanced over at Yn and Ollie. They were still talking, completely unaware of Lando’s growing frustration. Yn laughed again, her eyes sparkling in a way Lando hadn’t seen in months.

“Look at her,” Oscar said, nodding toward them.

“I am,” Lando snapped. “That’s the problem.”

“No, that’s the solution,” Oscar replied. “She’s smiling again, Lando. She’s happy.”

Lando hesitated.

Oscar continued, his voice softer now. “You’ve been worried about her for months, and now she’s back to being herself. Don’t ruin that because you’re being overprotective.”

Lando opened his mouth to argue but stopped. He looked at Yn again—really looked at her. She was radiant, her cheeks flushed from laughter as she teased Ollie about something.

And Ollie...

Lando hated to admit it, but Ollie looked at Yn with genuine affection. The way he leaned toward her, hanging on her every word, and the tenderness in his gaze—it wasn’t just flirting.

It was something more.

Oscar gave Lando a pat on the back. “Think about it,” he said before walking away.

Lando stood there for a moment, torn. His instincts screamed at him to protect Yn, to pull her away and remind Ollie who she was. But Oscar’s words lingered in his mind.

She’s smiling again.

With a heavy sigh, Lando took a step back. He turned and walked out of the garage, leaving Yn and Ollie to their moment.

---

Later that evening, Yn found Lando sitting outside the hospitality area, staring at the sky.

“Hey,” she said, sitting beside him.

“Hey,” he replied.

She nudged him with her elbow. “You okay?”

Lando glanced at her, noticing the contentment in her expression. “Yeah. Are you?”

Yn smiled softly. “I am.”

They sat in silence for a while before Yn spoke again. “Thanks for bringing me to all these races. I needed this.”

“You needed more than that,” Lando said, his voice teasing but warm.

Yn tilted her head, confused. “What do you mean?”

“Nothing,” Lando said quickly, shaking his head. “Just...I’m glad you’re happy.”

She studied him for a moment, then leaned her head on his shoulder. “I have the best brother in the world, you know that?”

“Obviously,” Lando replied with a grin.

They stayed like that for a while, the sounds of the paddock fading into the background. And though Lando still had his reservations about Ollie, he decided he could live with it.

As long as Yn was smiling, that was all that mattered.

[mattsnight]

Summary: in which Chris can’t hide his feelings for Y/N any longer.

Warnings: cursing !!

WC: 5k+++

Chris hated how he felt for you. The extreme feelings were overwhelming and it was hard keeping them together. He couldn’t live like this. He couldn’t live knowing you were his best friend and that nothing would ever happen with the two of you.

You were always the clingy kind of type. You couldn’t be alone for more than 24 hours and always had to be with someone who you loved. Most of the times it was Chris, which he didn’t mind at first, but when his feelings for you started, it all became a lot.

You came over to the triplets’ house today, since Chris hasn’t been answering your calls. You were really worried about him. When you walked into the house you were met with an angry Chris. He didn’t want you here at all. He didn’t want to talk. It hurt him to do this shit to you, but he needed these feelings gone. And there it was, he was bottling up all his feelings and is now taking it out on you.

“Jesus what the fuck is wrong with you?” You say to Chris as he just ignored you when you tried giving him a simple hug. He never did this, he would always hug you even when he was annoyed. He lets out a huff, rubbing his eyes as he glances in your direction.

"Me? Nothing is wrong with me, I'm absolutely fine. It's you, you're just always around being clingy, I can't even breathe without you being all over me. Seriously, do you have to be so clingy? Give me a break every once in a while," Chris bites back with a roll of his eyes. A small gasp leaves your mouth at his sudden anger. “What the hell happened to you, chris? At first you’re all nice and sweet to me and now you’re acting like a huge dick.”

Chris grits his teeth, turning to look you in the eyes a lot sharper than usual. "So now it's wrong that I've decided to give myself a break from your clinginess? Is that a crime now?" He quips, raising a brow at you unimpressed. "God, you're always so needy, you can't even go half a day without wanting my attention. Have you ever considered that maybe I'd want alone time?”

“I was giving you one hug, chris. I wasn’t sat on your lap touching your chest while waiting for you to fuck me!” You yell back, anger now running through your body. Chris is visibly taken aback by your words, the harsh bite of them makes his chest ache, but he can't focus on that right now. He lets out an annoyed huff, running his fingers through his hair and sighing. "You always hug me!" He points out, throwing his arms out. "Like, it's never just one hug, you're always all over me, no matter if we're alone or in public. It's like you can't stand the thought of not being attached to me or something!"

“Im not always hugging you! I was so excited to see you, is one hug that bad?” You say, running your hands through your hair. "And there it is again, the excuses!" Chris exclaims in annoyance. "You're always all over me, you've gotta touch me. You know I'm not the biggest fan of physical touch, so why are you always so clingy with me, huh, can you answer that?" He asks, raising a brow at you with an expectant expression on his face.

“Because we’re friends? Cus i enjoy being with you? Because maybe im trying to get our friendship back!” Yeah, that one hurt. It had been a while since you and Chris had hung out. At first you thought it was because he got a girlfriend, but he didn’t, Nick told you that.

"And you need to cling to me to do that? You need to be attached to me at all times to do that, is that it?" Chris asks, clearly still frustrated and a little on edge. "It's annoying. I'm allowed to want my own goddamn space every once in a while, why's that so hard for you to understand? I just want a little space to breathe, alone, without having you sticking yourself to me like glue."

Fuck, why did it have to go like this? You hated this and you knew he did too. There was hurt smashed on both of your faces, but the both of you didn’t stop. “Then tell me to shut up, leave and never come back!” You say, a voice crack slipping through. Chris's eyes widen slightly, his mouth going slightly agape at your words, his heart beating loud in his chest. He did not see that coming. "What?" He asks, a hint of surprise sneaking into his voice. “Tell me to leave, end our friendship and do whatever the fuck you want without me.” You repeat with a voice crack.

Chris's jaw clenches, his chest feels tight and his stomach sinks at your words. Every fibre of his being wanted to scream at you to shut up, to stay with him forever. He did not want you gone, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to tell you. "I don't want-" he tries to protest, swallowing hard and averting his gaze. "I don't want that."

“Then what do you want, Chris?!”

"You!" His eyes widen the moment the word escapes his mouth, he didn't mean to say that, he meant to say anything other than that. He clamps his mouth shut, staring at you with a mix of shock and frustration. “What?” You say quietly, not believing that you heard him right.

"I- nothing, I... nothing, forget I said that," he runs his fingers through his hair, cursing himself inwardly. This did not get better. "I just... I think, maybe, we should just have some time apart for a while. Take some space, I'll be fine without you glued to my side, you'll be fine without me around all the time." His voice stays the same, not even a slight change.

“You said me.. chris.. what does that mean?”

"I said nothing, alright?" Chris snaps, trying to cover up his slip of the tongue, but it was too late. He couldn't lie his way out of this now. He lets out a huff, scrubbing his face with his hand, looking at you with a frustrated expression on his face. "Damnit... you weren't supposed to hear that."

You take a small step back at his snap. It wasn’t because you were scared, you wanted to give him space. His expression softens just the slightest as he sees you take a step back, his heart panging in his chest as he registers the hurt in your eyes. He shakes his head in defeat. "No, I... Damnit, I can't... Look, I can't do this right now." He runs a hand through his hair again, turning his back to you and walking a few moments. Clearly he was frustrated and upset about the whole situation. “Chris—“ you try, but he doesn’t want to talk.

"Just don’t." He bites, his voice low as he keeps his back turned to you. He clearly wasn't in the mood to keep the conversation going. He was upset, and in pain, and he knew he was hurting you as well. He didn't want to hurt you, but he knew he was, and that was so much worse in his mind. “Please just talk to me, Chris. I want to understand what is going on.”

"What is there to talk about, huh?" Chris turns to look at you again, eyes sharp and his muscles coiled tight with tension. "What are we supposed to talk about? I said something I wasn't supposed to, I can't take it back, so what do you want me to say? I don't want to talk about it, not like this, not right now."

He is still staring at you, his expression pained and frustrated. It was like he was trying to hold back so many things, trying desperately to keep them all at bay and yet they were so obvious on his face. "And what was that little stunt anyway, huh? Trying to get a reaction out of me, is that it? Well great, you got one. You did what you set out to do, I screwed up. I said something I shouldn't have said. Happy?"

Your eyes start filling up with pain. It wasn’t your intention to do this. You didn’t mean any of it, you just wanted a reason why you’re losing your best friend. Chris's heart clenches within his chest at the sight of your hurt expression. The sharp pang of guilt and regret hits him hard, but it doesn't stop him from continuing. "You wanted a reaction, and you got it. I'm human. Do you think you can just prod and poke at me all the time and I won't snap back?" He bites, narrowing his eyes at you despite the panging in his heart. “Im sorry, okay?…” you say.

"You're sorry, is that it? You're sorry?” Chris snaps, taking a step closer as he towers over you. His face is a mixture of anger and pain, despite the growing guilt at the expression on your face. “You're sorry? Great, that just fixes everything, doesn't it? You didn't mean to make me snap, didn't mean to prod and poke at me until I exploded, but that's fine because you're sorry now, right?" All his anger is aimed at you when you just tried to fix something broken. You don’t dare to speak, scared you’ll ruin it even more.

"Yeah, that's exactly what I thought," he continues, his voice still sharp and bitter. "You can apologise all you want but it's not gonna change the fact that you got exactly what you wanted out of me. You pushed me to the limit, and you got a reaction. So don't bother apologising, it's too late for that." He says, letting out a frustrated huff while scrubbing his face with his hand as anger and guilt clash together in his mind. He wants to yell at you, wants to scream at you and let it all out, but at the same time the sight of your hurt expression is killing him. "Goddamnit.." he mutters under his breath, running his fingers roughly through his hair.

“I should go home.. this isn’t gonna work.” You finally say, breaking the silence. "Yeah... maybe you should," Chris responds, but the moment the words escape his mouth he wishes he could take them back. His heart is panging against his chest, his stomach clenches with guilt at the idea of you leaving. He didn't want you to go anywhere, he wanted to talk to you, he wanted you to not look so hurt and upset, but he'd gone and made it all worse in his anger.

You grab your bag quickly after his respond, ready to leave. Chris can’t take this anymore, he needs to make this right. He needs to talk to you. His heart drops to his stomach as you reach for your bag, the reality of the situation hitting him hard as he watches you get ready to leave. "Just... just wait," he says suddenly, the words slipping out before he can even think about it. "Please don't go. I... shit.”

He falters, his breath catching as he tries to find the right words. "I... look, just... just sit down, alright?" He asks, his voice suddenly much softer and more vulnerable than before. He wanted you to stay. He couldn't stand the thought of you leaving right now, he needed you to stay. He swallows hard, forcing out the next words as his heart pounds in his chest. "Please just... just sit down. We need to talk, not like this. Just... just sit down and listen to me. Please."

“Why does this all have to be so difficult?” You ask, sitting down on the couch to listen to him. "I don't know!" Chris exclaims, frustration and annoyance rising in his voice again. Why does it have to be so difficult? He should've just kept his mouth shut in the first place, he'd made a huge mess and he knew it. "I don't know why it has to be so... so difficult." He repeats, softer this time. "I don't... I just don't know." He scrubs his face with his hand, gritting his teeth and taking a deep, calming breath.

“What happened between us?” You ask, wanting answers. Chris's heart pang's in his chest again at your question. A million answers could've come to his mind, but he couldn't get the words out of his mouth. Instead, he clenches his jaw, sighing deeply and shaking his head. "I don't know," he repeats again, his frustration growing. "I... I don't know, things just... changed."

He runs his fingers through his hair, raking his brain for the right words to say, the right way to explain things without saying too much. "I can't explain it. Things just... look, it's just so complicated." He glances at you, his expression a mixture of pain and confusion. He looks away again quickly, sighing heavily and shaking his head. "Things just aren't how they used to be. Something changed... and it's all wrong now."

“Does it have anything to do with you saying that you want.. me?”

Chris visibly tenses, his breathing catching in his chest as the memory of his earlier words comes back to him. He swallows hard and nods, his heart thudding against his ribcage. "Yeah," he mutters, his voice strained. "It has... everything to do with that." He says before looking up at you again, his expression pained and his eyes full of anguish. "You weren't supposed to hear that," he explains, his voice cracking slightly. "I didn't... I didn't mean for you to hear that. I didn't want you to know."

“But you said it, what does it mean?”

Chris takes a deep breath, his heart thudding so hard in his chest it's all he can hear. He knew he was in too deep now, there was no backing out. "It means exactly what you think it means," he mutters, his voice low and heavy. "I... I want you. I want you." He couldn't believe the words were coming out of his mouth, but now they were out there in the open and he couldn't take them back. His eyes search your face, looking for a reaction, a response, any sign of how you felt at his words, but he couldn't find it. "I... I want you," he repeats, his voice hoarse and raw with emotion. "I've wanted you for a long time, and it's been killing me. I... I've messed it up, I know I've messed it up and I can't take it back, but it's the truth. I want you. I need you."

“Jesus christ, Chris.. we could’ve talked about this sooner without that arguing.” You groan as waves of mixed feelings wash over you. Chris lets out a bitter laugh, shaking his head as he runs his hands through his hair again. "You think I wanted to argue with you? This is exactly what I was trying to avoid. I didn't want to deal with this, I didn't want to admit this." He sighs deeply, his heart panging in his chest as he meets your gaze. "I'm an idiot," he mutters, his voice quiet. "I just ruined everything, didn't I?"

“No chris— god.. i am in love with you too.”

Chris's heart stops in his chest, his breath catching in his throat as your words wash over him, a rush of emotions surging through him at your confession. His eyes widen, his heart thudding so hard against his ribcage he's sure you can hear it. He just stares at you for a moment, like his brain isn't quite comprehending what he's just heard. "You... what?" He asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

“I love you, chris..” you say. Those three words hit Chris like a ton of bricks, knocking the air out of his lungs and sending his heart into overdrive. He didn't think he'd ever hear those words from anyone, especially not from you. His expression softens, a mix of surprise and wonder and disbelief on his face as he takes a cautious step towards you, like he's afraid he might shatter whatever fragile dream he's suddenly found himself in. "You... you mean that?" He asks, his voice hoarse and low.

“Yes! I have for a long time, but i didn’t know how to feel when you just.. stopped talking to me.”

A wave of emotions washes over Chris at your words. Relief, joy, disbelief, excitement. He swallows hard, his eyes never leaving yours as he takes another step closer to you. "You... you love me?" He repeats, his voice a little shaky as he tries to process everything. "You love me?" He takes one more step towards you, his expression full of hope and awe. You look up at him, noticing he was already staring at you. His blue eyes are searching your face for any sign of dishonesty or deception. Instead, all he sees is love, and a whole lot of it. His heart is beating so hard in his chest it physically hurt, but he didn't care. All he could see was you, and the fact that you just confessed to loving him. He reaches out hesitantly, slowly putting a hand on your waist, like he's afraid you'll vanish if he moves too quickly.

And there it was, the kiss you’ve both longed for. It feels like a switch is flipped inside the two of you. Like you’re finally free. Your hands move to his cheeks, pulling him impossibly closer. His hands move to your ass, letting them rest there. Everything is how it’s supposed to be.

When the kiss finally breaks, Chris's expression is a mixture of wonder and shock, like he can't believe that just actually happened. His heart is pounding in his chest, his brain struggling to process what's just happened. He couldn't believe that you actually wanted him, that you loved him. He lets out a breathless laugh, his face still so close to yours that he can feel your breath on his face. “Shit that was so good.” He says, trying to get some air. Oh and it was good.

It was the best kiss you’ve ever had.

The end<3

Oh my god why is this sooo long :,) i hope yall liked it!

[v1sexual]

always forever , vi (arcane) part two

a collection of (modern) domestic life activities with vi ! college au , modern au , self indulgent

part one , part two , part three, part four soon !

note : this one sucks lol , i literally made this at work a couple of days ago and didn’t have the willpower to write a new one. anyways, hope u guys like it !

drabble two : its mariah carey season

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who was ecstatic when you suggested to decorate the flat for christmas. she and her family are not religious at all, but christmas is something that they celebrate every year without fail.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who went all out and spent around $500-$600 on christmas decorations and around $1000 for christmas gifts. (she bought like five different types of christmas lights, a 6 foot christmas three, and a lot of stuff she definitely didn’t need)

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who’d show off by carrying all the shopping bags in one go and would not let you help. “just doing my job shortcake,” she’d say as she opened the front door for you, her pinky visibly shaking as two heavy shopping bags hang off it.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who’d stop to look and admire you as you two decorated the christmas three. she watched, as you strategically placed the blue, green, and red baubles in a pattern so that they’re even distributed. it’s been a couple of days since you two kissed, an unofficial confession to how the two of you felt for each other. after that night you’ve shared countless of kisses (and a little bit of heaving petting here and there). but you guys haven’t really addressed what you two are, if this is a start of a relationship or just something casual (her bet is on the former though).

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who excused herself and told you she needed to go to the washroom but in reality she just needed an excuse to sneak off and set-up a mistletoe under your door, her door, and the bathroom door.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who basically barricaded the hallway to that leads to her and your room. she literally hung a white sheet in front of the hallway to hide what she’s planning.

“vi you’ve been there for two hours!” you whined, hand resting on your stomach. “i literally need to shit!”

vi popped her head out from behind the white sheet, “give me two minutes baby i’m almost finished.” she said then popped her head back in.

as much as you’d love to cuss out vi right now, you just couldn’t ignore the way your belly does flip flops the second she called you ‘baby’ (also the fact that it somehow made you no longer wanna shit).

approximately two minutes later vi popped her head out again, “close your eyes for me shortcake.” you sighed but closed your eyes anyways.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! who quietly turned off the light. she intertwined her fingers with yours as she held the white sheet open and leads you towards the hallway.

“okay shortcake, open your eyes.”

a gasp left your lips as you opened your eyes. the hallway was illuminated in nothing but white christmas lights hanging from the ceiling, it looked like something out of a pinterest board. personalized wreaths hung outside your rooms (yours had books, a guitar, and all your favorite little things. then vi’s had a hockey stick, a rugby ball, and a pair of boxing gloves).

“do you like it?” vi asked quietly.

you didn’t say anything, eyes still focused on the hallway.

“i-i can take it down if you-“

you cut her off by basically jumping into her arms, you wrapped around her in a tight hug burying your face in the crook of her neck.

“i love it,” you whispered against her skin. vi smiled down on you, her hands situated under your legs to support your weight.

ꕀ flat mate vi ! whose face you showered in kisses when you broke free from the hug.

a dopey smile played on vi’s lips as she leaned against your palm, eyes fluttered shut as your lips met hers. she sighed contently, her hands rest on your hips her as her thumb rub circles against your clothed skin.

vi has never felt so happy, so content. she felt as though her heart would burst from how hard it pounded against her chest.

“i love you,” she said. “i don’t know if it’s too early to tell you, but i love you. i have for a while now, and i understand if-“

you cut her off by shortly pressing your lips against hers. “i love you too, violet.”

ꕀ extra !

“oh. my. god.” powder exclaimed. she gripped her phone tightly, re-reading the text her sister sent her.

ekko raised an eyebrow at his girlfriend, placing his guitar in it’s stand before walking towards his bed and plopping down next to her. “everything alright pow?”

powder didn’t say anything, instead she shoved her phone in ekko’s face. it took him a second to read the text but judging by the photo vi sent powder, he already knew what was up.

“can’t believe it took them this long to be honest.”

“cut them some slack little man,” powder rolled her eyes playfully before shooting vi a quick text. “it’s not like you’re any better.” she teased which made ekko roll his eyes.

“yeah, yeah, whatever.” he replied, pressing a kiss to powder’s cheek.

[hsunrry]

date night // one shot

harry styles x fem!reader

summary: based on this request.

|| masterlist ||

words: ~2k

warnings: smut18+, angst, praise, unprotected sex, creampie

. ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁

“you know how important this meeting was for me.” you said coldly from passenger seat. your arms were crossed over your chest. he sighed heavily, running a hand through his hair.

“i know, i know, i’m sorry, okay?” he apologised, his voice laced with frustration. “something came up, i couldn’t just drop this.”

“always the same, Harry.” you shook your head. his eyes narrowed slightly, his voice taking on defensive tone.

“and what’s that supposed to mean? that i can’t do anything right in your eyes?” he looked at you briefly before his eyes went back to the road.

“no, that’s there’s always an excuse.” you mumbled. your body language was closed off to him. “it’s just that i was reminding you about it for two months and you still were almost an hour late.”

“i heard you, okay?” his grip tightened on the steering wheel. “you reminded me every single day. but real life happens sometimes and i had to deal with something urgent. i promised i’d make it up to you.” he glanced over at you.

“what was that urgent then?” you asked. “what was that important?”

“my manager called, there was a…” he sighed. “problem with my upcoming tour schedule that only i could handle. it wasn’t something i could ignore or delegate.” he paused for a second. “look, i get that i messed up.” you bite inside of your cheek, looking out of the car window. his frustration boiled over when you gave him silent treatment. “you know what? you always do this.”

“do what?” you asked, not looking at him. he gestured broadly, his hand sweeping across the interior of the car.

“you always stay quiet. always keep everything bottle up inside. ant then you just… shut down. like a switch flipped and you’re no longer there.” his voice was low.

“because i’m frustrated, what am i supposed to do?” you asked coldly. his expression darkened.

“yell at me then! storm off! do something other than just sitting there looking pissed off!” he yelled, his knuckled white from gripping steering wheel so tightly.

“pull over.” without a word, he pulled over to the side of the road, putting the car in parking mode.

“what now?” he turned to face you fully, his eyes blazing with frustration. you unbuckled your seatbelt, getting out of the car and going into the direction of the house. he quickly got out of the car as well, following you. “where do you think you’re going?” he called after you, his voice laced with irritation. he quickened his pace to catch up to you.

“i’m going home myself.” you said, your arms crossed on your chest from anger and cold air. he grabbed your arm, stopping you.

“walking home yourself? it’s a 15-minute drive, you’re not going anywhere!” he shouted, his face red in anger. “get back in the car!” he demanded, trying to tug you back towards the vehicle.

“no!” you snapped, feeling his arms wrapping around your thighs, lifting you up and bending you over his shoulder. “Harry!”

“if you’re not going to act like an adult about this, then i’ll treat you like a child. now be quiet, before i spank your ass.” he carried you to the car, talking through gritted teeth.

“you wouldn’t dare.” you mumbled. he smirked, giving your bottom hard smack, the sound echoing through the night air. he opened backseat doors, tossing you inside. he quickly gets to the driver’s seat, starting the car. he glanced at you in rearview mirror only to see you pouting back there.

“now, are you going to behave yourself or do i need to come back there and remind you who’s in charge?” he was gripping the steering wheel, ready to drive.

“fuck off.” you mumbled, watching him turning off the engine and walking out of the car. he sat in the backseat, pulling you astride his lap. “what are you doing?”

“i’m giving you a timeout, little one.” he placed his hands on your thighs, going up and down gently, almost soothingly. “now, can we talk normally?” you shrugged at his words. his hands slid up higher on your thighs as he held your gaze intensively. “i miss you when you’re like this.” he admitted softly, one hand moving up to cup your cheek. “i miss hearing your voice, seeing your smile…” he traced his thumb across your bottom lip.

“what are you expecting when i’m mad at you?” you asked, looking into his eyes this whole time. he sighed.

“for you to talk to me, not ignore me or mumble under your breath.” he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer. “for you to, i don’t know, yell at me, but not giving me silent treatment.”

“i’m just upset you were so late. you promised me you’ll be there no matter what. i was talking about this meeting for two months.” you said quietly. his expression softened with guilt.

“i know, love. i’m sorry i broke my promise.” he ran his hand through your hair. “this problem with schedule was last minute, but that’s not an excuse. i should have been there on time.” he leaned his forehead against yours. you closed your eyes, biting inside of your cheek. he knew it was a sign that you were very upset. he hated every second of it, he hated making you mad. “look at me, please.” he asked softly, his voice gentler with every word. when you opened your eyes to look at him, he noticed tears welling up in them and his heart sank at the sight. he gently wiped away the tears that escaped your eyes with his thumb. “baby…” he whispered, his voice breaking slightly. you sniffed. he held you tighter against his chest, one hand cradling the back of your head. “don’t cry, please. you know i hate seeing you cry…” he kissed the top of your head, running soothing circles on your back. “i know i fucked up, i’m so sorry…” you nuzzled your face into his neck. his arms tightened around you when he felt your warm breath against his neck. after few seconds his hands moved to cup both sides of your face, tilting it up to look at him. “listen to me, i’m so fucking sorry.” his thumbs brushed away the remaining tears. you nodded quietly. his voice was gentle, but serious. “i need to know you forgive me. i don’t like when we’re not talking. it drives me mad, knowing you’re disappointed in me.” he stroked your hair, waiting for your response.

“it’s not that i’m disappointed in you, i’m just sad that you promised me to be there.” you said quietly. his expression was soft, but intense.

“i know… and that makes it worse. your sadness hurts more than anything else could. i fucked up something special to you…” he paused, his hands still tenderly framing your face. “i’m so sorry lovie, really.” you nodded again. he sighed, pulling you closer and pressing his forehead to yours again. “tell me what to do to make this right.” his hands moved to your waist, holding you close.

“just be there next time.” you sighed quietly. he looked at you intently, his eyes searching yours for reassurance. he needed to know you were serious about giving him another chance to not mess up again.

“you can count on it. next time, i’ll be there early.” he nodded solemnly. you managed a quiet ‘okay’ in response. he watched you carefully, waiting for any sign that you were truly over this argument. he didn’t wanted to push his luck, but he also didn’t wanted you to be silently upset. he decided to test the waters a little. “you really not mad at me anymore?”

“i’m not.” you shook your head slightly. he raised his eyebrow sceptically, tilting his head to the side. he pulled you even closer.

“you sure? you’re not giving me the cold shoulder or anything?” he asked, searching your face for any hint of residual anger. you chuckled softly, shaking your head again. his face lit up with relief and joy as he heard your laugh. he pulled you into tight hug, burying his face in your neck. “i missed you.” he murmured, placing gentle kisses along your neck and jaw.

“mhm.” you hummed against his neck. he held you tightly, savouring the feeling. after a moment he pulled out slightly, to look at you.

“you know, i was thinking…” he started.

“about what?” he smiled softly at your question, his hands resting on your waist.

“about making it up to you.” he said, his eyes filled with determination. he leaned in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. “starting with this.”

“i’m reminding you that we’re in the car.” you chuckled softly. he grinned, his hands moving to either side of your face.

“and i’m reminding you that we’re very much alone right now, with tinted windows.” his thumb gently stroked your cheek. when you smiled, he closed the distance between you two, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. it was a sweet, tender kiss, filled with all the love and apology. “i’m sorry.” he whispered against your lips.

“mhm.” you hummed into his mouth, feeling his hands lifting your dress up, exposing your legs and ass. he deepened the kiss, his hands splayed out on your thighs. he broke the kiss to trial soft kisses on your neck. he unbuckled his belt with deft movements, his hands then moving to unzip his pants. he lifted his hips slightly to push it down along with his boxers, freeing himself. he looked up at you, his voice low and husky.

“come here, love.” you lifted your hips up, moving your panties to the side and lowering yourself at him. he let out a low groan, his hands gripping your hips tightly. he leaned back in the seat, his eyes never leaving yours as you started to move. “fuck, you feel amazing.” he breathed, his hands guiding your hips as you rode him slowly. he leaned forward, claiming your mouth in another passionate kiss. “right there.” he moaned when you started to move faster, his teeth nipping at your lower lip. “that’s perfect…” he broke the kiss to pant, his head falling back against the headrest. his hands roamed up your stomach to your waist, his touch gentle yet

firm. “faster.” he urged, his hips bucking up to meet yours. “look at me, baby.” and you did, moving faster. his eyes locked with yours, dark with desire and love. his breath became ragged as he watched you move on top of him, his hands back on your hips. “beautiful.” he whispered, leaning forward to capture your lips in another intense kiss. “i love you.”

“i love you too.” you gasped into the kiss. he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you tightly as he thrust up into you, the car rocking slightly with the motion. he swallowed your moans with his mouth, his heart racing in his chest. he felt himself getting close, his body tensing.

“i’m so close, baby.” he gasped into the kiss.

“me too.” you responded. he felt your body tense around him. he tightened his hold on you, one hand moving to tangle in your hair as he thrusts deeper. “you can’t come inside me, we don’t have anything to clean me up, i’ll suck you off.” his eyes darkened at your suggestion.

“no fucking way, baby, i’m filling this pussy up.” his cock twitched inside you. “i’ll clean you up with my mouth.” he grunted when you started moving faster, moaning at his words. his hips were moving erratically as he chased his release. he felt his orgasm building, his balls tightening. you cried out, clenching around him when you finished. “fuck, i’m coming!” he moaned, burying his face in your neck as he came hard, filling you with his hot seeds. he panted heavily, his body shaking with aftershocks. he pulled back to look at you, a lazy smile on his face. “i love you.”

[seasaltdevotion]

Reblogging this again because I just used it!

And…I need some help lol. If some more experienced tarot readers could come to my rescue that’d be much appreciated. I wish I knew someone irl who could walk me through readings because I’m very much someone who learns by being shown.

However! If you guys could help me out that’s the next best thing!

(Excuse the lap desk, it was my mom’s back when my brother and I were toddlers.)

Anyhow, for those who can’t see with my crappy lighting

1. The Chariot.

2. 3 of cups [reversed]

3. 6 of cups

4. The Hierophant [reversed]

5. The Magician

Ive got a few educated guesses, but im still a little lost and some help would be appreciated!

had already sent this to a mutual of mine but i thought this might be helpful for anyone else who may need it

it’s a tarot spread on how to know what deities are trying to reach out with you and why, works like a charm i swear

have a good night everyone!

-star <3