#kiss asks meme

[rendevok]

>:3c 🎲

4~ kissy atop the head

[pocketshipping]

ANYTHING WITH MUMBO GRIAN & SCAR? :DD

I SPENT WAY LONGER ON THIS THAN I INTENDED TO

[mcflymemes]

PROMPTS FOR THE LONER *  assorted dialogue for the one who walks alone, adjust as necessary

i don't need your help.

you won't have to deal with me much longer.

that's the only thing i need from you.

it's safer to just push everyone away.

you can do this by yourself.

who said i was helping?

that's not what we agreed to.

i work better alone.

you're not coming.

stay here.

this is my duty.

i have a job to do.

i don't work well with others.

i never agreed to take you with me.

things are better when i'm alone.

i don't need anyone.

don't you have someone else to talk to?

i won't be of any help.

i'm sorry. you're not coming with me.

you stay put.

i'll help just this once.

don't follow me.

this is where we part ways.

there is no "we."

i never needed your help anyway.

you've been a thorn in my side since we met.

i said that i would take you there. that's it.

there was no agreement.

i never said we would stick together.

you need someone else.

i'm not the one you're looking for.

i've been alone my whole life.

i like my solitude.

i've never needed anyone else.

ever since that day, i've been alone.

don't lean on me.

don't rely on me for anything.

i'll only let you down.

i'd be happier if i was alone.

you sleep. i'll keep watch.

that's not what i said.

you're putting words in my mouth.

it's easier for me to go solo.

everyone i've ever loved has left me.

people die every day.

i can do more damage on my own.

did i ask for your help?

when i tell you to run, you run.

get out of here.

don't look back.

i'm not the one for you.

if i start caring about you, you'll end up dead.

everyone i've ever loved has died.

this is over between us.

go away.

[bursting-at-the-memes]

Send "Stop talking" for your muse to shut mine up by kissing them

Alternatively send "Mmph!" for my muse to be the one to interrupt yours with a kiss.

[temeyes]

hoi. can i please kiss soaps forehead☺ ty

hOI!! of course you can!

[stasyalovem]

Charles: *rambling about their current case*… this creature that terrorize our client looks pretty monstrous. Maybe we should kiss right now, just if we'll die tomorrow, innit? *leans to Edwin with his pretty convincing smile*

Edwin: Charles, we can't die, we already dead, you know

Charles: um…ok

Edwin: *smiles no less convincingly and leans toward him* And you could stop making up these silly excuses to kiss me

Charles: *Charles Rowland.exe has stopped working*

[ebongawk]

kiss prompt 42 would be super cute!

remiss to admit I already wrote this one and Tumblr glitched and deleted it so I hope it actually posts this time 🥲

42. A clumsy kiss

It was late.

Eddie was still laughing to himself, despite how fucked up it was that everyone had ditched to avoid helping with cleanup duties. Like, alright, maybe he'd gotten on a power trip and decided to kill off Jeff and Grant's characters during their second-to-last Hellfire meeting of his high school career.

So what?

It was their own goddamn fault, negging him at lunch today. So maybe he'd ditched their morning chill session after Chrissy stopped by to say hi and he followed her like a sick puppy in desperate need of attention.

Could he truly be blamed? It was Chrissy Cunningham.

And he was friends with her.

(Actually he was fucking head-over-feet crazy about her, thinking so endlessly of her and their weird, unexpected friendship that he'd drawn a picture of Sune, the goddess of beauty and love, and accidentally made her look exactly like Chrissy, but. Semantics.)

They should've anticipated the consequences. Was no small matter, giving the dungeon master shit when he held the fate of their characters in his notoriously ruthless hands.

But their total shock and disdain when he'd killed them? Hilarious.

As he swept up the endless Doritos crumbs from the theater room's wood floor, he laughed again at the memory of Jeff shouting so loud the acoustics carried his voice through the entire space and back.

Grant went full Pavarotti when his elven archer fell to the depths of the Underdark.

Served them right.

Still, they were dicks for not staying to take care of their own messes. The younger kids he understood – curfew to adhere to and all that – but Jeff, Grant, and Gareth had straight up left with loose excuses that they all knew were bullshit. And if the drama room was left untended over the weekend, Eddie was the only one that would be in hot water with Mrs. Thames, since he was the one she entrusted with the key.

A soft knock yanked him out of his aggressive sweeping, looking up just as Chrissy peeked her way through the ajar door. He'd forgotten that she stuck around tonight for junior varsity tryouts for the coming year.

"Oh, you are still here," she breathed. "I saw your van in the lot on my way out, but I wasn't sure if you were here or if you were in Principal Higgins' office doing something, um, untoward." She looked around as she stepped through the threshold, the door clicking shut behind her. "Where are the guys?"

See, that was the thing. Chrissy wasn't just friends with him. The entirety of Hellfire was fucking batty over her. So why did he get all the shit?

"They ditched," Eddie snorted as he swept the crumbs into a dustpan, emptying it into the garbage can he'd stolen from the janitor's closet.

Chrissy quirked a brow at him. "What'd you do?"

"Egads, Cunningham!" he shouted, slapping a hand over his heart as he staggered toward her. "Must I be at every fault in your judgmental eyes?"

"Not every fault." She hummed, leaning against the table. Eddie scoffed, grabbing a notebook to start notating where the minis were before tossing them in a storage box. "But this one seems a little obvious."

Eddie finished his scribbling quietly, mulling this over. He didn't have to be entirely honest.

"Alright, so maybe I killed Jeff." Chrissy gasped. "And Grant."

"Eddie!" Chrissy chastised. "How could you?"

"It's fine!" he cried. "They were so angry about it that they fucking forgot that Sinclair found the Hand of Kelemvor buried in that chest in the Shadowfell. He can use it to bring them back!" Eddie snorted. "Serves them right, though. They'll have to scrounge up new character sheets before next week that'll be entirely useless."

Hoisting herself onto the table after he'd haphazardly wiped it down, Chrissy cast him a critical eye.

"Wouldn't Lucas have to, um, sacrifice something to use that?" she asked.

This was still kinda novel to him. He and Chrissy had been friends for a while now, and when they first started hanging out, she asked him about his DnD stuff. Well, actually, she asked him to explain it to her to verify that it wasn't a cult, as her ex-boyfriend so stupidly believed, and then after that she just... kept asking how the story was going. What they'd done that week. Not only that, she retained it. Filing away little pieces of information and gasping when she later realized how they tied into the greater plot of the story.

"Are you really even interested in this stuff?" he'd asked at one point. She was sitting on the floor of his bedroom, feet tucked under his thigh as they ignored the small stack of homework and he recounted the previous day's campaign. "Or are you just humoring me?"

"I like it so much, Eddie," she'd replied around a soft smile. The one he fucking prayed was reserved just for him. "It's like you're writing this whole fantastical story just for me."

"Just for you, huh?"

"Yeah," she sighed. "I'm the only one lucky enough to hear it."

"He will," Eddie verified Chrissy's inquiry. Leaning up against the table beside her and shrugging. "The deity he ascribes to is kind of temperamental. She'll probably ask for his life in exchange for theirs."

Chrissy gasped in horror.

"Eddie, that's awful!"

"It's necessary!" he cried in response, chuckling at her genuine astonishment. "Listen, we've all done it, okay? Before I became DM, I sacrificed myself twice for the greater good. Gareth has lost three characters, and Grant and Jeff have both lost one. The younglings have played it too safe up 'til now, in my opinion. It's about time they accept that which they cannot control: change."

Chrissy blinked, her lips parted as she looked at him.

"It comes for us all, Cunningham," he said, his voice softer. Gaze dropping around a forced chuckle. "No matter how much we wish it wouldn't sometimes."

And that–– that was entirely too fucking revealing.

It was something they hadn't quite discussed, really. What they were going to be when she was off working her way through her scholarships in Portland and Eddie was who-fucking-knew doing God-knows-what away from this shitty ass town.

Honestly, he kinda figured she'd forget about him. This little stint of friendship had maybe opened her up to not judging books by their covers, if she ever had (Eddie knew she hadn't), but once they were no longer convenient, he figured he'd just become a fond memory for her. A soft little smile as she flipped through her yearbook in the coming decades.

A past she was happy to move on from.

Whether that made him want to kick his own teeth in was completely inconsequential.

"Change isn't always bad," she said, her own voice having dropped to a whisper. "Is it?"

He let his eyes drift back to hers. Meeting the determined storms he could see swirling there.

But he didn't have a chance to answer.

Because she was surging toward him, eyes scrunched closed, and he knew, he knew what she was trying to do, but she completely overestimated her aim. Lips landing clumsily on the small stretch of skin between his upper lip and nose, and her own nose mashed painfully just under his eye, making him wrench himself backward with a grunt.

"Oh–– Oh my God––"

"Aw, fuck."

"Oh, God, Eddie, I'm so––" Hands covering her mouth, she looked horrified all over again for an entirely different reason. "I-I'm so sorry, oh my God, did I hurt you?"

"It's alright––"

"No, it isn't, oh my gosh! This is so mortifying, God––"

"Hey––"

"I'm so sorr––"

"Hey," he said, wrapping one hand around her wrists and easing them down. "Chrissy. It's alright." She still looked entirely humiliated, and Eddie couldn't help but laugh. "I mean, as long as you–– Did you–– Were you–– Uh. Were you trying to kiss me?"

Squeezing her eyes shut, Chrissy let out a little trembling laugh herself.

"Trying being the operative word, I guess," she replied shakily. "I... I mean, nuggets, Eddie, I've wanted to kiss you for ages. And then, that whole thing with change and stuff, I thought, maybe this could be a good change. For us, you know? Because I just–– I like you so much, and––"

That was enough.

Cupping her cheek with his free hand, Eddie took the lead. Gently pulling her in, the little furrow between her brow not registering his intention until he was pressing a soft, chaste kiss to her lips. Cutting off whatever apology she was likely to spew next with a little gasp that he greedily swallowed down.

He pulled back the tiniest bit, and Chrissy was quick to close the distance again. Extracting her wrists from his grip so she could wrap her arms around his shoulders.

She tasted like the wild freedom of his feelings for her. This endless stretching of wilderness, trees and foliage entangled with meadows of wildflowers that grew without reservation. Sprawling landscapes that infiltrated his very being, until she'd suffused herself into every blade of grass and knob of dirt that had sprouted within him.

It was fucking insane, how well his hand fit in the curve of her waist. How easily his lips molded against hers. How good and right and natural it felt to have her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his scalp.

"Good change," he acknowledged easily when they finally broke apart for air. The little giggle she let out washed across his lips, lingering on his tongue with the yellow sunshine happiness of his wooded being.

"Amazing change," she agreed before leaning in to kiss him again.

kiss roulette!

[voiceofsword]

i saw this meme and was like oh yeah this is them. without a doubt

[rendevok]

40 :3

40~ an impulsive kiss

My handwriting is messy, but i intended it as 3 speech bubbles:

Phoenix says (1)“Come here” while interrupting Edgeworth as he says (2)“W-”, and after he turns away, Phoenix says “They’re gone now”.

Hope you enjoy the not-so-healthy 7yg narumitsus!! Thanks :D

[little-pondhead]

Some fic because I love your au, Fenton is gender brainrot, and little baby dan cracks me up. Full disclosure, my only familiarity with DC is DP crossover fanfic, and a Batman movie I fell asleep during. (If I had a better grasp on the characters I would totally write more :(( i love interactions) also sorry for the weird spacing. Idk why tumblr did that

~~~~~~~~

There was an empty cardboard box on the table of the Justice League’s main conference room. Taped on the top flap, next to a doodle of Fenton’s logo, was a jump drive.

Heaving a sigh, Batman plugged it in and pulled up his screen on the projector. The drive, which was named “little baby dan’s evil playtime”, contained two files; WATCH_ME_FIRST.mp4 and its-a-secreeeet.pdf. He clicked on the video file, and immediately the projector filled with a blurry close-up of Fenton’s goggles.

After a moment of fiddling with the camera, Fenton stepped back, giving a cheery wave. His lab coat and goggles were a pastel pink, which was new. “Heeeeya, Bats! Whoever else is there! If you’re watching this, you probably weren’t there when I dropped the box off, aaand it’s probably empty.”

He clapped his hands together gleefully. “And Connie, if you’re there, this is payback for cussing around my daughter.” Batman was instantly relieved that Constantine wasn’t on base. Hopefully the situation wouldn’t require Constantine’s expertise. (Or any of the Justice League Dark. Fenton seemed determined to drive them all to an early grave with his casual refusal to acknowledge the supernatural air around him.)

“Now, as you’re all heroes, I’m sure you’re all familiar with the whole,” Fenton paused for a moment, as if searching for the proper words. “”You ate a burger on a Tuesday or something equally inane, and it kickstarted a series of events that led to you going insane and evil and murdering 95% of the Earth’s population and now you must fight your evil alternate self, because your time-controlling cryptid Peepaw said so,” shtick, so I’ll skip the backstory. Say hi to Dan!” Fenton grabbed the camera, and Batman quickly jotted down several notes about the concerning number of things the boy had just said.

The camera swiveled around to show Nightingale, holding a strange beast in a manner that reminded Batman of an “elongated cat meme” Nightwing had shown him when he was still a Robin. The creature bared a maw full of razor sharp fangs at the camera. Nightingale adjusted her grip to hold the creature’s paw and make it wave, which evoked a deep growl.

“Haha, he’d kill me if I did that. Dan likes Nightingale much more than he likes me.”

“Because the worst she has ever done is attempt to shoot me.”

The camera had moved, so Batman couldn’t visually confirm that the deep voice had come from the creature, but the voice didn’t match any of Fenton’s previously revealed companions. “Yeah yeah, her aim sucked back then.” Fenton gave the camera a toothy grin that was only slightly less unnerving than the creature’s. “Dan’s not technically me, he’s much more like Dani, actually, but the world would probably end again if we left him with his other... What did you call him?” Fenton glanced offscreen.

“Bane of my accursed existence.”

Fenton chucked. “The other half responsible for his existence.” Batman added more notes to his file. “So, yeah, Clocky left him with us for a bit to help along his rehab. But a certain psychologist-in-training I know says that repressing rage isn’t healthy, and even without a lot of his powers, he can wipe out most of a city in- what, an hour? We tested it. It was around an hour.”

Everyone present shared a look of deep concern. As if able to see their reaction, Fenton quickly held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t worry! Clocky reset it. Approximately zero people have died from Dan in this timeline.”

“Yet.” Came a furious rumble from off-screen.

“Yes, you’re very scary.” They heard Nightingale coo.

Fenton laughed. “Yeah, we need him- and all of you, -out of our hair for a bit while we concoct more evil plans, and you’re all the least likely to die to him, so you get to babysit! Thanks!”

He reached to shut off the camera before pausing and turning away. “Foley! Which of the furries is the one who really likes animals?”

“Man, do you realize how that sounds out of context?” Foley laughed. “I think Tim said it’s the little one. Damian?”

Fenton nodded and turned back to the camera. “Don’t let Damian try to adopt Dan. Or anyone. Dan will bite their hands off. I mean it!” To emphasize his point, he removed one of his hands.

Batman sighed and added “ability to remove limbs” to a list of Fenton’s powers.

“I’ll include a list of “tasks”” Fenton’s disembodied hand made finger quotes, “we gave Dan to keep him occupied. There’s some at the bottom for you guys. They’re mostly just blatant abuse of his powers for the sake of fun and science. I’d appreciate it if you’d let him mark things off the list and add notes on how it goes. Or you can do it. Or I can steal your cameras. Your choice.”

He thought for a second. “I think you’re supposed to leave, like, pizza money or something, but I don’t think you can get pizza delivered to space. Anyway, thanks for letting me blab your ears off while Dan’s probably committing war crimes for twelve minutes. For your sake, I hope he inherited my interest in space. Good luck! Thanks for babysitting!”

Waving with his still detached hand, Fenton ended the video. Batman closed it and opened the PDF as the few other members present murmured amongst themselves. Most of the pages were filled with a curling script Batman didn’t recognize. The fourth page had a huge, bolded header, reading JP TASKS.

The door opened and shut in half a second as the Flash burst in. “Superman!” The speedster wailed. “I can’t get this thing off of me!”

The Flash waved his arm around, sending small droplets of blood flying as he tried to dislodge the creature sinking his teeth into the speedster’s arm. Batman raised an eyebrow beneath his cowl as Superman quickly lent his super strength in attempt to pry the creature’s jaw open. Dan didn’t budge.

Well, he could certainly see the family resemblance been Fenton, Dani, and Dan. Shaking his head, he turned back to the list.

Task 1: Find Dan. He’s probably attacking someone.

He highlighted the text and crossed it out. This was going to be a long shift.

[Anon, this is me crying over the wonderful gift you have given me. You bastard.]

---

"Do you think Fenton's regeneration powers extend to his..." Green Lantern frowned, trying to remember the word the kid had used but coming up blank. "I dunno. But do you think if we cut off little Dan here, he'll heal back up with no problem?" He gestured helplessly to the scene in front of him. Flash was still screeching about the beast on his arm, and now Superman and Wonder Woman were trying to pry him off. Batman was standing to the side, silently bemoaning the lack of quiet. He just wanted one peaceful shift. Just one. Please.

"I'd like to see you try, hero. And I'm not little." Dan spoke, startling all of them. His grip on Flash's arm tightened, making the speedster squeal before releasing the man and spitting out a mouthful of his blood. Batman noticed that his mouth didn't move despite the clearly spoken words. In fact, when Dan closed his mouth, it was like he didn't have one at all.

"So you do speak!" Superman marveled.

"Of course I do. I am not unintelligent, unlike you lot."

Despite his pain, Flash still made sounds of protest that everyone promptly ignored.

Superman flushed. "I just wasn't sure. It was hard to tell in the video."

"Ah, yes. The video that the Fenton menace sent you. Was there a note for me in the flash drive?"

"Uh, no." In one of his less finer moments, Green Lantern stuttered over his words and moved in front of Batman, obviously lying. Dan merely growled and flew through both men, heading straight for the giant monitor. Batman barely suppressed a shiver. Density shifting? Might as well add it to the list. He could see Martian Manhunter, who was in the back of the room, tilt his head at the display.

Dan ignored the room as he used his entire body to manipulate the computer mouse and scrolled back up to the top of the page. Staring intently at the scribbles no one could make out, the heroes could do nothing but shoot each other nervous and confused glances. More than a few of them jumped when Dan chuckled deeply. Honestly, his tiny body was at complete odds with his baritone voice.

"Maybe rehab will be fun if he's letting me do this." Dan sneered, flashing their reflections a sharp fang. No one wanted to ask what exactly he was in rehab for. The little beast turned his gaze to Batman. "You are the one called Batman, who rules the cursed city, correct?" The dark hero nodded, not trusting himself to say anything. "Excellent. You will be my chaperone for now, just as Fenton decreed it. Good luck, mortal man. Pray, I do not destroy your home a second time."

Without any time to unpack that conversation, Dan promptly disappeared from view. Some blinking text caught his attention, and Batman scrolled back down to the English text, glancing at the next few items on the list.

Task 2: Do not let Dan read his portion of this letter until you have a way to track him. There is no containing him.

Task 3: Keep him with a chaperone at all times. (If you can)

Task 4: Do not let Dan back into Gotham unless you're fine with a sudden decrease in the clown population.

Task 5: Take him for a walk in Death Valley. He likes hunting lizards.

Task 6: Make sure he goes down for his 2pm nap every day.

Task 7: He'll ask for it, but do not give him any burgers for mealtime. It upsets his stomach.

Task 8: Dan gets ONE(1) sweet after dinner before brushing his teeth. Those green pop rocks Batman always carries will do fine; he likes those. :)

A sudden alarm blared from his wristwatch, making Batman tear his eyes away from the screen, indicating an emergency at Arkham. This time, Batman actually sighed out loud. There was more to the list, but right now, he really needed to find their new charge before he killed the Joker, from the sound of it.

[mcflymemes]

DIFFERENT KINDS OF KISSES *  send 'reverse' for the reversal of the prompt, nsfw implied

[ soothe ] sender kisses receiver to stop them from shaking

[ forehead ] sender tenderly kisses receiver's forehead

[ brief ] sender sneaks a kiss to receiver's cheek as they walk by

[ brow ] sender kisses the bridge of receiver's eyebrow

[ impossible ] sender kisses receiver as a final gesture, knowing they can't be together

[ hiding ] sender checks the area around them before kissing receiver, trying not to get caught

[ handful ] sender peppers the receiver's cheek with multiple, playful kisses

[ line ] sender draws a trail of kisses down the length of receiver's shoulderblade and up their neck

[ almost ] sender and receiver are centimeters apart, about to kiss, but something interrupts them

[ side ] sender places a kiss on the side of receiver's nose

[ tip ] sender kisses the tip of receiver's nose

[ underside ] sender leans in and places a suggestive kiss just under receiver's jawline

[ giggle ] sender starts tickling and kissing the receiver all over in order to make them laugh

[ knuckle ] sender lifts receiver's hand to their lips and places a polite kiss there

[ last ditch ] right before receiver leaves for battle, sender rushes into their arms and kisses them desperately

[ the middle ] in the midst of a battle, sender steals a second alone with receiver and kisses them to reassure them

[ dreamy ] sender and receiver indulge in a handful of slow, romantic kisses

[ darkness ] sender and receiver makeout in a completely dark room

[ ear ] sender nuzzles and kisses receiver's ear

[ recline ] sender climbs ontop of receiver and steals a kiss

[ lazy ] sender kisses receiver to wake them up from a comfortable sleep

[ dramatics ] as sender and receiver argue back and forth, sender launches forward and kisses receiver to stop the fight

[ distance ] across a large space, sender blows receiver a kiss

[ hold ] sender and receiver are hugging, and sender kisses receiver on the cheek in a tender display

[ regret ] sender and receiver start to kiss, but sender backs away in the middle of it, knowing it's a bad idea

[ reunion ] thinking they'd never see each other again, sender and receiver are reunited and run into each other's arms, sharing a kiss

[ inner ] in a heated moment, sender trails kisses along receiver's inner thigh

[ lovebite ] in the midst of kissing receiver's neck, sender changes tactics and gives them a tender little bite

[ greeting ] sender and receiver greet each other with kisses to both cheeks in quick succession

[ bunny ] sender gives receiver a bunny kiss by rubbing their noses together back and forth

[ supportive ] sender kisses the top of receiver's head

[ fingertips ] sender places light kisses to each of receiver's fingertips

[ tongue ] sender and receiver indulge in a heavy makeout that involves tongue

[ first time ] sender leans in and kisses receiver for the first time

[ final ] sender and receiver share a kiss for the very last time, and they know it's their last

[ storm ] caught in the midst of a torrential downpour, sender can't help but close the distance and kiss receiver in the rain

[ scar ] sender sees one of receiver's scars for the first time and gently kisses it

[ desperate ] the situation is dire, and sender can't stop themselves from rushing forward and crushing receiver into an aggressive, frantic kiss

[ tend ] while tending to receiver's wounds, sender gives receiver a reassuring kiss

[ stolen ] sender and receiver cross paths and can't resist ducking into a safe place to makeout before they carry on with their day

[ irresistable ] sender taunts receiver by easing closer, promising a kiss, and then backing away, making receiver chase their lips

[ lipstick ] sender is wearing lipstick, and uses that fact to mark receiver with a few lipstick stains

[ chest ] sender removes receiver's shirt and immediately rushes forward to kiss their chest

[ shivering ] sender places small kisses all over receiver's stomach

[ fake ] sender and receiver pretend to be a couple and are forced to kiss each other to blend in

[ maybe ] sender and receiver are best friends and experiment with a kiss to see where it goes

[cihlen]

Men... kissing... I love men kissing...

I love watching men kiss...

The original template belongs to Kupahdraws.

[tommarvoloriddlesdiary]

41

i don't know what i did with this, and i'm certain it's not what you meant - but here's your fic for 41. "...because the world is saved."

~

Ash falls like snow, peppering Harry’s hair and coating the scattered stones of Hogwarts, softening their jagged, ruined edges.

Harry stands at its centre, his wand still warm and loosely dangling in his grip. His chest rises and falls as he catches his breath. He feels Voldemort before he sees him, fighting a wince as his scar throbs faintly. Voldemort’s presence had stopped feeling oppressive ages ago… so it must be all that hovering he’s doing over Harry’s shoulder—too close, too familiar, too worried.

“You were reckless,” Voldemort says, right when Harry feels the reprimand building in the air reach its boiling point. Voldemort’s voice is hoarse from battle, his face streaked with dirt and blood. Harry knows it isn’t his; he frowns at Voldemort nonetheless.

When Harry turns, he physically feels the weight of his exhaustion. It pulls down his shoulders, droops his head, and lines his face. Suddenly, he can’t imagine that he looks much better. “Reckless worked, didn’t it?” He asks, just to be annoying.

Voldemort’s mouth spasms in something that might be amusement or disdain—it’s hard to tell. “Barely. If you had died before finishing the incantation, they would all be dead.”

‘Again.’ Hovers in the air, silent and stretching.

“Well,” Harry huffs, “you’d have just had to try and save everyone on your own.” And he can’t help himself when he reaches up to thumb at the drying blood on Voldemort’s face—the near flinch he feels under his attention is so so satisfying. “Isn’t that right?”

He tilts his head away from Harry’s touch and sighs long and low. “You are insufferable, Harry Potter.”

Harry pulls his hand back easily, and a smile tugs up his lips. “Stop suffering me, then?”

The throbbing of his scar had faded with Voldemort’s settling (his needling is a way of reassuring himself, Harry now knows), but it’s back with a vengeance. Harry flinches this time. “Hey now, it’s just a joke—ease up, would you?” He waves Voldemort off, cooling him down or fanning the flames? He never has the slightest clue. 

For a moment, Voldemort says nothing; his dark eyes study Harry’s face like he’s almost got him all figured out, like he constantly unearths more questions with every answer, like if he just looks at Harry long enough—he’ll understand him completely. It’s been happening a lot lately. Harry’s not sure how there’s much left of him to discover with the way Voldemort digs and pries. 

The pain gets worse and spikes to near unbearable before abruptly fading altogether. Voldemort rolls his eyes when he says, “Your humour remains of poor taste.”

Harry opens his mouth to retort, something sharp and teasing to ease the odd silence and to avoid the masses a bit longer, but the words catch somewhere in his throat. His humour isn’t for anyone but himself to enjoy, yet a slight hint of guilt forms in the pit of his stomach. It makes home next to the strange tension that hasn’t let up since Voldemort caught sight of Harry from across the battlefield. He doubts Voldemort has stopped watching him since. 

The look on Voldemort’s face—half-exasperation, half something else—roots him in place. It’s a superficial crack in the otherwise unyielding wall, and Harry wants to see more, wants to pry back.

“You’re staring,” Harry says, his voice quieter now, though the quip still lingers on his lips. It feels too fragile to tease properly.

“You are hard to ignore,” Voldemort replies, his tone just shy of biting. The words lack venom, and something in the way his gaze shifts—falling briefly to Harry’s mouth before darting away—makes Harry’s stomach twist.

The words stamp themselves into the walls of Harry’s mouth before he has the good sense to think about them. “Then don’t.”

Voldemort freezes. He’s eerily still usually, but Hary can feel this pause like he’s stopped the very air around them. It feels alive, heavy, charged with magic—residue from all the fighting? Or is it all from Voldemort himself? And Harry doesn’t know why he said it, doesn’t know why his heart is hammering, but it doesn’t stop him from taking half a step closer.

“I do not think this—” Voldemort starts, his voice low, but Harry cuts him off without a second thought.

“Quit thinking for once,” Harry says a bit too forcefully, his fingers curling instinctively into Voldemort’s robes. His exhaustion somehow vanishes with the movement, like touching Voldemort, even barely grazing, renews him, every nerve alive and burning.

For a second that feels like eternity, neither of them moves. Harry really wants to. But now his brain seems to be operating like usual, possibly even thinking for the both of them, and it’s swearing up and down that he might have pushed too far…

But then Voldemort leans in. It’s not sudden, nor is it hesitant—it’s deliberate, as though he’s weighing every centimetre of the distance between them and making peace with crossing it. Their lips meet, soft and strangely tentative despite Voldemort’s near-constant certainty in his every action—though, has ever truly been certain around Harry? Especially recently?

Voldemort’s hand brushes against his jaw, cool and surprisingly steady. Harry’s breath catches in his chest, his hand tightening slightly in Voldemort’s robes as if to anchor himself. 

It lasts only a few moments, but it’s enough to leave Harry reeling when they part, their foreheads nearly touching. Ash still falls around them, the quiet of Hogwarts’ ruins amplifying Harry’s heartbeat. He needs to will it quiet, needs to let go of Voldemort, needs to rethink his life’s choices—

“Reckless,” Voldemort murmurs, his voice tinged with something like disbelief, cutting through Harry’s spiralling thoughts.

Harry lets out a shaky laugh, his smile soft but undeniably smug. “Yeah, well. Reckless works, doesn’t it?”

This time, Voldemort doesn’t argue.

~

i hope you like it 🥹

[nicbutnasty]

🧡 landoscar :))))

Thank you!! Apologies this took a few weeks, but also it grew from a quick drabble to almost 1k words of fluff, and is still somehow the quickest fic I've ever written. Hope you enjoy!

[send me heart and a ship for (what was meant to be) a brief snippet]

Lando/Oscar, kissing in bed/lazy kiss/cuddling

In hindsight, Lando thinks, maybe Oscar did have the better idea for a dedicated napping spot in the McLaren motorhome. He’s already given up on trying to sleep in his room downstairs, struggling to get comfortable and switch his mind off, but it’s a full afternoon of media lined up for later – there’s no way he’s gonna make it through that without a nap.

Normally, curling up in a corner would work just fine – he wouldn’t mind, he’d even requested a bed extension for this year so he’d have room to stretch out, but it still isn’t quite right. Not when Oscar’s probably fast asleep in luxury upstairs, with his full-length plush sofa bed and the afternoon light streaming in through the windows. Like a bloody cat in a sunbeam. And here Lando is, tossing and turning on a plank of foam covered metal. 

If Oscar has the best napping spot, well, Lando would just have to go and make the most of it too. 

—

Quietly, Lando pushes open the door of Oscar’s room, and sure enough there he is, stretched out on his sofa-bed like a particularly contented cat. He looks softer somehow, Lando thinks, more relaxed, more open than he usually is around the track in the daytime. It makes Lando want to do something stupid like brush the hair out of his eyes and kiss him, some sleeping beauty nonsense or whatever. He quickly pushes the thought to the back of his mind.

Oscar stirs slightly as Lando enters and pads over to the bed.

“Kim?” Oscar asks, voice rough with sleep, rubbing bleary eyes with the back of his hand.

Lando perches on the edge of the bed, the only space there is available with how Oscar’s sprawled out across it. “Nah it’s Lando. Budge up, I wanna sleep too.”

Oscar shuffles back only a couple inches, so Lando prods him in the thigh.

“Nuh, comfy,” he murmurs, cracking an eye open to peer at Lando. “Get in or get out.”

Lando sighs in despair, but still he kicks his shoes off and swings his legs up onto the sofa bed, curling himself into what little space there is, back pressed flush against Oscar and his head tucked below Oscar’s chin. Oscar simply responds by throwing an arm around Lando’s waist with a satisfied hum.  

Even like that, Lando can admit this is the better option than his bed downstairs, and Oscar is nice and warm. His arm is a reassuring weight over Lando, and he relaxes as Oscar’s breathing slowly evens out towards sleep again.

Lando shifts a little to get more comfortable, fully accepting this is the best way he’s gonna get some sleep before the next round of media duties. He’s careful not to disturb Oscar too much, but Oscar lets out a soft groan anyway and pulls Lando closer to him. 

“Stop moving” Oscar murmurs into his hair, before pressing his lips right there against the top of Lando’s head. 

Okay. Well. That’s new, Lando thinks, but definitely not unwelcome. If he’d been any closer to sleep he’d have thought nothing of it, but as it is, he’s now very much awake. 

The idea of staying still now firmly out of the window, Lando twists in his hold to look up at Oscar. He’s got his eyes tightly closed, feigning sleep, but with a soft pink flush across his cheeks like he’s just realised what he’s done. Lando takes a moment to just observe, hoping Oscar doesn’t open his eyes and catch him staring.

There’s a red crease curving down his cheek from how he’s been sleeping before Lando disturbed him, reminiscent of the balaclava lines that always make him look so vulnerable post-race, with cheeks flushed just like they are now. There’s the constellation of freckles across his face that makes him want to trace them with his fingertip, playing dot-to-dot until he gets down to the two moles nestled against his throat to press a kiss right there. Then mingled in with the freckles, there's that light spattering of pimples from where the balaclava sits against his skin, that Lando hates on himself – somehow they persist despite his fancy skincare routine – but that on Oscar he just finds endearing.

Cautiously, with his heart thudding in his chest, Lando cranes his neck upwards to place a careful kiss to Oscar’s jaw. There’s a soft intake of breath, and then Oscar is moving to tentatively brush Lando’s lips with his own. 

Lando kisses back, bringing his hand up to brush Oscar’s hair from his face – just as soft as expected, he wants to tangle his fingers in it, and this seems to be something he’s allowed to do now, so he does. His brain is almost working on autopilot as his lips move against Oscar’s, and when Oscar sighs into the kiss, Lando can’t help but deepen it, licking into Oscar’s mouth. He tastes like mouthwash and sleep and heat, and Lando has always been desperate to take as much as he’s able, half-blanketing Oscar’s body with his own in an attempt to get impossibly closer.

Oscar pulls back slightly, and Lando freezes, worried he’s done something wrong and ruined this tentative thing between them, but Oscar just smiles dazedly up at him, eyes all soft and crinkly at the edges. “This is nice,” he murmurs.

“Yeah,” Lando breathes. 

Oscar lifts his head to press another chaste kiss against Lando’s lips. “Okay, now sleep” he says, letting his head drop back on the pillow with a soft smile. 

“Yup, good idea,” Lando replies with a grin, but Oscar’s already shut his eyes and once again is doing a good impression of being fast asleep.

Lando’s still half-draped over Oscar, who seems quite content with that, so Lando simply relaxes back into Oscar’s arms and shuts his eyes, allowing himself to slowly drift off to the steady in-and-out of Oscar’s breathing.

[letshareapapou]

*screeches into inbox* Tech/Crosshair 18 - a kiss while laughing for the kiss prompts please!!!! 🥰

Tech is just so cute who can resist him?

[choices-binglebonkus]