#pictures from pinterest

[cherrywineandroses]

[iamgonnagetyouback]

jealous? who, me?

theodore nott x reader where you meet his friends for the first time and daphne is definitely not in your good books

↬ word count : 931 words ˎˊ˗

↬ warnings : secondhand embarrassment (for daphne) ⭑.ᐟ

↬ author's note : i loved this too much (˵ ¬ᴗ¬˵)

navigation┆theodore nott masterlist┆request here 𝜗𝜚

You weren’t supposed to be feeling this way. This was Theodore’s night—his friends, his circle, his world. You’d come to the party with the intention of being supportive and charming, maybe even making a good impression.

Until Daphne Greengrass entered the picture.

She was pretty. Too pretty. Effortlessly gorgeous with her sleek blonde hair, sharp cheekbones, and a laugh that danced through the room like wind chimes. And the worst part? She knew Theodore—knew him well.

You stood beside Theodore, nursing your wine glass and trying to maintain a polite smile as Daphne monopolized the conversation. Her hand brushed his arm—again—and she tossed her hair back with an almost rehearsed air of effortlessness.

Theodore, ever the gentleman, leaned in slightly to hear her better, his lips twitching at something she said. You weren’t entirely sure what was so funny, but you were sure it wasn’t that funny.

“Oh, that’s funny,” you muttered under your breath, your voice laced with dry amusement.

Theodore’s brow quirked, but before he could speak, Daphne excused herself. “Excuse me for a second, I need to grab a drink,” she said, flashing you a quick glance, one you could only describe as calculating.

Theodore turned to you as soon as she was out of earshot, his brows knitting together in mild confusion. “What’s funny?” he asked, his voice low and smooth.

You smiled sweetly, far too sweetly. “Nothing, Tesoro. Just enjoying the show.”

One brow arched as he slid an arm around your waist, pulling you closer. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice carrying a teasing edge. “Should I be worried?”

You took a deliberate sip of your wine, eyes flickering toward the direction Daphne had gone. “Not at all. I think you’re the one being thoroughly entertained.”

Theodore’s lips twitched again, this time with a barely concealed laugh. “You’re impossible.”

“And yet, here you are,” you shot back, your smile sharp enough to cut.

His brow quirked, but before he could say something, Daphne made her way over, holding two glasses of champagne. She handed one to Theodore, completely ignoring you.

“Thought you might need a refill,” she said, her tone light and lilting. “We wouldn’t want you getting parched, would we?”

You raised your own glass slightly. “Oh, don’t worry, Daphne. I’m keeping him hydrated just fine.”

Daphne’s smile faltered for half a second before she recovered. “How thoughtful of you.”

“Isn’t it?” you replied, tilting your head with faux innocence. “I like to take care of my things.”

Theodore’s grip on your waist tightened, and you could feel the low rumble of a laugh in his chest, though he didn’t let it escape. Instead, he pressed his lips to your temple in what was meant to be a calming gesture but only fueled your sass.

“So,” Daphne began, clearly trying to redirect. “Theo was just telling me about the time we went to Monaco together. What a trip, right?”

“Monaco?” you echoed, raising an eyebrow. “How quaint. Theo and I were just talking about planning something grander. Italy, maybe. You know, somewhere with a bit more... romance.”

Daphne blinked, clearly thrown off. “Italy’s nice. I’ve been to Tuscany a few times.”

“Of course you have,” you replied, swirling your wine lazily. “So cultured of you.”

Theodore cleared his throat, his grip on your waist now firmly grounding. “Amore mio,” he murmured, his lips brushing your ear. “Play nice.”

“I am playing nice,” you whispered back, your tone dripping with faux sweetness. “She started it.”

“I heard that,” Daphne said, smiling tightly.

“Oh, good,” you said, flashing her a grin. “I’d hate for you to feel left out.”

Theodore’s shoulders shook slightly as he tried—and failed—to suppress a laugh. “Daphne, why don’t you tell me about that new project you mentioned earlier?” he asked, his voice steady despite his amusement.

“Oh, yes!” Daphne launched into an explanation about some fashion venture she was working on, her hands gesturing animatedly. You nodded along, your expression politely disinterested, until she said something you couldn’t resist.

“It’s been such a challenge finding the right balance between trendy and timeless, you know?” Daphne said.

“Oh, I wouldn’t know,” you replied airily. “I just wear whatever Theo likes to take off.”

Daphne’s cheeks turned a shade of pink that clashed horribly with her dress, and Theodore’s hand on your waist flexed as he pulled you even closer.

“Cara mia,” he said softly, his voice low and filled with warning. “Behave.”

“I’m behaving,” you said innocently, glancing up at him with wide eyes. “Aren’t I, Daphne?”

Daphne set her champagne down on a nearby table, her smile now more brittle than bright. “Well, it’s been lovely catching up, Theo,” she said, barely sparing you a glance. “I’ll see you around.”

As soon as she walked away, Theodore let out a quiet laugh, his forehead dropping to your shoulder.

“You’re impossible,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin.

“She’s impossible,” you shot back.

“She’s harmless.”

“She’s obnoxious.”

He straightened, his dark eyes gleaming as he looked at you. “You’re jealous.”

“Am not.”

“You are,” he teased, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Fine,” you admitted, crossing your arms. “Maybe I didn’t love the way she looked at you.”

“Amore mio,” he murmured, his voice softer now. “She could look at me all she wants. I’m still going home with you.”

You huffed, but the way his hand slid up your back and the warmth in his eyes softened your irritation.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” you muttered.

“And you’re lucky I find you endlessly entertaining,” he replied, leaning down to kiss you.

[madeofmemoriesblog]

Moodboard

[literarydesire]

A new semester draws gloser

[olivianott]

WHITE DRESS

Posting this again, because I can’t stop thinking about the Goddess moment and that one photo from pinterest 😌

ꕤ Theo Nott x fem!reader

ꕤ enemies to lovers, a little bit of smut - not for minors

ꕤ originaly part of the jinxedjuly challenge, with second week prompt nightswim, but now it’s too late I’m sorry 😬

It’s 3 am and you can’t sleep. It’s too hot outside, no air to breathe in your room. Putting your thin long dress on, you go take a walk outside around the pool.

It’s still hot outside, but the light breeze coming from the sea feels great on your skin.

You sit on one of the pool lounges and close your eyes, listening to the sounds of the night. Finally, you can relax, your mind a little more at ease.

Suddenly something doesn’t feel right. You feel compelled to look behind you and there it is. A silhouette. There. In the dark entrance to the pool area.

It moves closer to you and comes into the light. Theodore. You roll your eyes. The bane of your existence. You can’t believe your friends invited him and no one told you.

“What the fuck do you want? Why are you following me?” You don’t have a good relationship. He is a fuckboy with a body worthy of Greek gods but is such an asshole to you, makes fun of everything you do or say, constantly.

“Oh Princessa, don’t you think you give yourself too much credit sometimes? It may come as a surprise to you, but the universe does not revolve around you, you know?”

“You fucking…” but you don’t even bother finishing the sentence, you just stand up and with an angry and disappointed sigh stomp to him and try to storm around him back into the house.

You make it a point not to look at him but you catch a strange look on his face in your peripheral vision anyway.

His arm shoots out and catches you off guard. It curls around your waist and pulls you into him. What is happening?

Theo speaks right into your ear: “I think you need to loosen up a bit princess, maybe a little night swim with me will help you.” You can just imagine the smirk on his face but you don’t have any time to respond, because the asshole picks you up and throws you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. You can admit to yourself that the view of his ass in the swim trunks is not half bad but you don’t, because he runs towards the pool.

FUCK.

The shock of the water against your skin and all around you makes you panic for a second too long but strong arms pull you up and hold you above the surface of the water. Your angry scowl goes unnoticed by him as he leaves you leaning against the wall of the pool once you gather yourself.

“I hate you so much. What is your problem, asshole?”

He completely ignores you and swims to the other side of the pool. When he turns around, you know he has his stupid smirk on his face, even though you don’t see his mouth, only his eyes above the surface.

Your friends said he is “such a nice person”, but why is he always such a prick to you? Some say it’s because he wants your attention, pulling on your pigtails and whatnot. Maybe you should get back at him and test that theory at the same time.

You’ve never been shy, but this took a lot of courage from you. Getting out of the pool you walk across the deck to where he leans against the wall, his eyes so big, you already feel accomplished.

The thin material of the dress clings to the curves of your body, it’s completely seethrough when wet. Coupled with you not wearing any underwear beneath the dress, the look on his face is priceless. He can’t look away. You enjoy the sight of him with his mouth open, eyes big, not blinking. His stare travels all around your body and he seems like he is in a trance. You stop right beside him, the height difference that being out of the pool gives you goes straight into your head and you smirk down at him.

“Thank you for that, I was too hot. You can close your mouth now, loverboy.”

The way he looks at you from beneath your feet makes you feel like a Goddess, him your most devoted worshipper. You can basically see the hearts in his eyes. The theory has proven to be right.

Satisfied, you turn to leave, but his hand shoots forward and gently touches your ankle, careful not to make you trip, but it makes you turn around again.

Theo stands up on the higher pool step and it makes his eyes level with your chest. He grabs your thighs and the way he looks at you makes you drunk on his gaze. Shit. This was not part of the plan.

He picks you up, hands around your waist, pulls you down into the water again, and pins you against a wall of the deep end of the pool. With his hands caging you in, you can’t look away from his eyes behind the wet curtain of curls. The strange look is back in his eyes and his gaze falls on your still wet lips. You can’t look away. You follow the water droplet, traveling from the end of the hair strand, down his nose, all the way to his pouty lips. When it disappears into his slightly open mouth, you forget how to breathe altogether. His mouth is so close to yours. Suddenly your lips touch, and something between you, the tension that, unbeknownst to you, has been stretching, tightening, and growing for a long time now, snaps. You forget everything around you, the only thing you feel is his lips on yours, his hands in your hair, the length of his body pushing against yours.

Fingers caressing your nipples, but it’s not enough.

Thigh between your legs, but your dress is too long.

Hand pulling the dress up, trying to bunch it up against your thighs, but it’s too tight.

Head falling against your shoulder, Theo sighs into your neck, frustrated.

“Fuck! You know what Princessa? Tomorrow. Same time, here in the pool. Wear something easier to take off, or I’ll tear it right off of you.” He whispers in your ear and your whole body erupts in goosebumps.

He doesn’t look at you while he gets out of the pool, and walks to the mansion, but the evidence of his arousal is on display.

Time to find an even longer and tighter dress, for him to rip to pieces tomorrow.

IT CONTINUES

As always, thank you for reading, hope you liked it.

If you want more: 🖤here🖤

[fictionalaffection]

my darling

[moonyswarmsweaters]

Barty Crouch Jr Exposed !!!!

[ivy-recs]

જ⁀➴ ♡ 𝐉𝐀𝐌𝐄𝐒 𝐏𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑

Within these gilded halls rest the tales I have adored, each a jewel among the written realms. Should any author wish their work removed, a word sent my way shall see it done with grace and reverence.

ᴛʜᴇ ɢɪʟᴅᴇᴅ ʟɪʙʀᴀʀʏ �� 1/12/24

@pretty-little-mind33 ♡ you and james bake gingerbread cookies.

@moonstruckme ♡ first snow ♡ roommate!reader where you both slip into the roommate phase ♡ jealous!reader

@boneblushed ♡ is it chill that you’re in my head? your best friend James isn’t sure why he’s so angry about the fact that you’re going on a date with someone else.

@kquil ♡ genuine your boyfriend finally takes a role who has a romantic interest but his expression is hardly convincing; only you can get a genuine reaction from him

@amiableness ♡ kiss and make-up james ruins reader’s date and attempts to make it better.

@lupinsversion ♡ fell hard when james finds himself talking to the other marauders about reader.

@lovemenotts ♡ dirty deer where your daughters stuffed deer blanket gets dirty

@msmk11 ♡ just like all the other angry boyfriends before two idiots in love who don’t know how to handle their emotions properly- aka school dance drama

@lizard-on-a-window-pane ♡ boy-friend where a girl calls you james's sister

@lupinsweater ♡ teacher!james x single mom!reader blurbs

@ellecdc ♡ thank you, McLaggen james potter x fem!reader who was apparently 'too much' for McLaggen

@astonishment ♡ you’re losing me you and james potter have a friendship like no other, with the most unbreakable bond…or so everyone thought. when you get hanahaki, you start pulling away from james and no matter how hard he tries, he can’t see, to do anything right. with your friendship being put to the ultimate test, will you find your way back to each other? or will james lose you for good? ♡ time warp 𝖶𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾-𝗍𝗎𝗋𝗇𝖾�� 𝖻𝗋𝖾𝖺𝗄𝗌, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖿𝗂𝗇𝖽 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋𝗌𝖾𝗅𝖿 𝖺𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗍𝖺𝗋𝗍 𝗈𝖿 𝟨𝗍𝗁 𝗒𝖾𝖺𝗋 𝗈𝗇𝖼𝖾 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇. 𝖳𝗁𝖾 𝗈𝗇𝗅𝗒 𝖽𝗂𝖿𝖿𝖾𝗋𝖾𝗇𝖼𝖾? 𝖨𝗍’𝗌 𝟣𝟫𝟩𝟨. 𝖲𝗍𝗎𝖼𝗄 𝗂𝗇 𝖺 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽𝗇’𝗍 𝖾𝗏𝖾𝗇 𝖻𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗂𝗇, 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖽𝗈 𝗒𝗈𝗎𝗋 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗈 𝖻𝗅𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗂𝗇, 𝖺𝗇𝗑𝗂𝗈𝗎𝗌𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗈 𝗌𝖾𝖾 𝗂𝖿 𝖣𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝖾𝖽𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝖼𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝖾𝗅𝗉 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝗁𝗈𝗆𝖾. 𝖳𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖺𝗅𝗅 𝗀𝗈𝖾𝗌 𝗈𝗎𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗇𝖽𝗈𝗐 𝗐𝗁𝖾𝗇 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖼𝖺𝗍𝖼𝗁 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝖾𝗒𝖾 𝗈𝖿 𝖺 𝖼𝖾𝗋𝗍𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗉𝖾𝖼𝗍𝖺𝖼𝗅𝖾𝖽 𝖻𝗈𝗒. 𝖠𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗆𝗈𝗋𝖾 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗌𝗉𝖾𝗇𝖽 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝗂𝗆, 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗁𝖺𝗋𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝗂𝗍 𝗀𝖾𝗍𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝗐𝖺𝗅𝗄 𝖺𝗐𝖺𝗒. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝗍𝗈…𝗋𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗍? ♡ why did she say yes? Y𝗈𝗎 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖩𝖺𝗆𝖾𝗌 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺𝗅𝗐𝖺𝗒𝗌 𝗁���𝖽 𝖺 𝖿𝗅𝗂𝗋𝗍𝗒 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝖡𝗎𝗍 𝗂𝗍’𝗌 𝗃𝗎𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍, 𝖺 𝖿𝗋𝗂𝖾𝗇𝖽𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉. 𝖲𝗈 𝗐𝗁𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝗁𝖾 𝗌𝗈 𝗎𝗉𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗍𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝗒𝗈𝗎’𝗋𝖾 𝗀𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝖺 𝖽𝖺𝗍𝖾 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾𝗈𝗇𝖾 𝖾𝗅𝗌𝖾?

@thatdammchickennugget ♡ one of the guys you have always been one of the guys, but what if you don't want to be anymore? ♡ want this to be real not being able to find your best friend remus, you rely on james to help you out of an uncomfortable situation.

[raw-time]

[little-miss-romance]

I didn't want him morally grey. I wanted someone with a soul as black as night. Someone who would burn the world down for me and not lose a single minute of sleep over it.

[cherrywineandroses]

I'm tired of drowning in the sorrows, Swimming through oceans of my tears

I just want to be me again I think I'm finally ready to let go now

[iamgonnagetyouback]

james potter x reader who gets asked out by james with the help of the boys and..... minnie?

You clutched the small, crumpled piece of parchment in your hand, staring at the words written in James Potter’s unmistakable scrawl:

“Common Room. After dinner. Don’t tell anyone. Trust me, love. It’ll be worth it.”

Now, trusting James Potter was a gamble at best, but curiosity—and your soft spot for him—led you to climb through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.

The space was eerily empty, the usual chatter replaced by an ominous silence.

“James?” you called out, your voice echoing slightly.

Before you could take another step, an explosion of sound and red smoke erupted from seemingly nowhere. You coughed, waving your hands in front of your face as crimson mist swirled around you. Instinctively, you drew your wand.

“Ventus!” you muttered, sending a gust of air through the room. The smoke cleared, revealing a massive, glittery banner suspended near the ceiling.

“DATE…?” it read in obnoxiously large, bold letters.

You gawked at the banner, completely dumbfounded. Before you could process the situation, a spotlight flickered on. There, standing on a table with a guitar slung around his neck, was none other than Sirius Black.

“Hit it, Wormy!” Sirius bellowed.

And then...he strummed the guitar.

The sound was horrendous. You weren’t sure what was more offensive: Sirius’s attempt at music or Peter Pettigrew leaping out from behind an armchair, singing in a voice that could shatter glass.

“GO OUT WITH HIM, GO OUT WITH HIM, HE’S THE BEST BOY THERE IS! HE’S THE CHASER WHO’LL CHASE YOUR HEART—”

“Merlin, no!” you yelped, covering your ears.

“��SO DON’T LET THIS CHANCE FAAAAART—”

“Wormtail!”

Peter stopped mid-warble as Sirius smacked the back of his head. “It’s fall apart, you dolt!”

“Stop! STOP!” Remus Lupin’s voice rang out from the shadows, mortified. He looked like he was actively praying for the floor to swallow him whole. In his hands, he held a small, handwritten sign: Go out with James.

Remus looked anywhere but at you, his cheeks tinged with pink as he awkwardly raised the sign higher.

“Merlin’s beard…” you whispered, half amused, half overwhelmed.

Suddenly, the room plunged into darkness.

“Oh, come on,” you muttered.

Another spotlight flickered on, illuminating the man of the hour: James Potter. He was perched—on top of a chair? The mantle? You couldn’t tell because your brain was short-circuiting. His lopsided grin was in full effect, his hazel eyes sparkling as he looked directly at you.

“Will you go out with me, love?” he asked, his voice warm and soft, despite the ridiculousness surrounding him.

You opened your mouth to respond, but—

“AHEM.”

James froze, his smile dropping as he turned toward the source of the noise.

“Not now, Pads,” he hissed.

Another cough.

“I said not now, Pads. Don't you want a brother to settle dow—” James whipped around, his expression shifting from annoyance to sheer panic when he saw who was standing there.

Professor McGonagall.

She was staring at James through her glasses, one brow arched so high it was practically touching her hairline.

“Care to explain what is going on here, Mr. Potter?” she asked in a tone that sent shivers down your spine and, evidently, James’s too.

“I, uh—”

Peter piped up, “We’re just, uh, rehearsing for the school talent show!”

“There is no school talent show,” McGonagall said flatly.

“Then we’ll start one!” James said brightly.

“Mr. Potter, the Fat Lady came screaming through the portraits about ‘horrible singing and red smoke.’ I should have known it was your group of troublemakers,” McGonagall said, her tone icy.

Peter piped up: “You know, Min—er, Professor, the Fat Lady really overreacts. I don't really believe I- the person who was singing was 'horrible'. I think we should fire the Fat Lady.”

Professor McGonagall gave him a look.

“On second thought,” Peter stammered, “she’s doing a great job. Wonderful lady. Terrific lungs.”

Sirius jumped in, abandoning the guitar and his shame. “Minnie, might I just say you’re looking particularly radiant this evening?”

“And regal!” James added hastily, straightening his glasses.

“Charming!” Peter squeaked.

“Delightful!” Sirius chimed again but McGonagall only gave them the look.

“Minnie, come on! Give us a break,” Sirius pleaded, dramatically throwing an arm over James’s shoulders. “Do you want James to grow old and alone?”

“You will grow old in detention if you keep this up, Black.” She turned her gaze to you, her stern expression softening slightly. “Five points from Gryffindor for…whatever this is. And Potter…”

“Yes, Professor?” James asked, his voice squeaky.

“You have one minute to clean this up. Good night.” She turned to leave, but not before casting you a knowing smile over her shoulder. “Good luck,” she murmured, loud enough for only you to hear, before walking out.

The moment she disappeared, James collapsed into a nearby armchair, dramatically wiping his forehead. “Merlin, that was close.”

“Close?!” you echoed, finally finding your voice. “You almost got us all detention for this?” You gestured vaguely to the chaos.

James grinned sheepishly. “So…will you?”

“Hmm,” you teased, tapping your chin. “I’m not sure. I mean, the sign was a bit much. And Peter’s singing…”

“Oi!” Peter said indignantly.

“And Sirius…”

“What about me?!” Sirius demanded, looking offended.

“…was Sirius.”

James groaned, flopping onto his knees in front of you. “Please, love. Don’t let all this effort go to waste.”

You chuckled, letting him squirm for a moment before leaning in. “Yes, James. I’ll go out with you.”

Before he could react, Sirius clapped his hands loudly. “WELL? What are you waiting for? Snog already!”

“Padfoot!”

“I mean it, Prongs! Show her why you’re the best!”

You laughed so hard you nearly cried, but James ignored Sirius, leaning in close enough to whisper, “Don’t worry. I’ll save that for our first date.”

You blushed, but before you could reply, Sirius shouted, “I’M TAKING CREDIT FOR THIS!”

[madeofmemoriesblog]

Rainy days ♡

[the-goddess-of-gays]

(text from House of Hades, fourth installment in the bestselling series Heroes of Olympus by Rick Riordan)

WE DO NOT TALK ABOUT THIS SCENE ENOUGH

[iamnotthere-idonotdie]

thursday, october 31st

the batman (2022)

[sunnie-angel]

Movie Magic

jason todd x gn!reader

summary: a cozy movie marathon date with jason todd

tags: fluff, kissing, minor reference to canonical character death

rated teen | wc: 1k

a/n: inspired by an ask from the lovely @orchidsangel

It’s a Saturday morning, and the weekend is stretching wide in front of you. It’s been a long week, so you and Jason have decided to do a movie marathon together instead of going out. The morning starts with breakfast, fresh fruit and real maple syrup drizzled over French toast. Dishes done side by side in the sink, winter sun coming in pale through the window. A few days earlier, when you’d done the grocery shopping, you’d picked up snacks specifically for this day. There’s popcorn and chips, pretzels and M&Ms, licorice and skittles. Each gets put out in their own bowls, ready to be eaten. Then would come building the blanket fort. Moving cushions and the duvet from the bed out into the living room, pulling bedsheets out of the linen closet. While Jason rolls an empty clothing rack out to hold up the blankets, you get the idea to take down some of your fairy lights and put them up in the fort, little pinpricks of light to stop Jason’s fear of small dark spaces from creeping in. It takes all of your decorative throw pillows you had insisted on and Jason had affectionately rolled his eyes at for you both to get comfortable. But it is comfortable, tucked up under Jason’s arm and swaddled in blankets, snack bowls tucked between your hip and the side of the couch.

Jason puts on the first movie, something you both loved as children. You laugh at the same moments, point out your favourite characters and scenes. His ribs knock into yours when he snorts, warm and solid beside you. Jason puts on the sequel, which you both agree is nowhere near as good as the first. Offhandedly you mention that at least the third was better since they brought back the scriptwriter from the first movie and Jason has to press pause. Turns to you jaw slightly open and asks if you’re serious, that there’s a third one, that they made more. The thing is, there was a third movie, only Jason wouldn’t have known. Resurrection and revenge doesn’t really leave a lot of time for catching up on pop culture. You wrap your arms around him tighter, navigate to the next movie and press play. For this one, the two of you are silent. Jason’s eyes are wide and attentive, lips parted in awe. You watch him as much as the movie, drink in his reactions eagerly and the way his arm tightens around your shoulder at the tense moments. The credits start to roll, and still Jason doesn’t say anything.

“So… what did you think?” You ask. He runs his fingers through his hair, looks you in the eye, and goes on one of the most impassioned rants you’ve ever heard him give, and you’ve heard him rant about everything they got wrong in the newest Sense and Sensibility adaptation. He barely stops to breathe between discussing the casting and how surprisingly good the stunts were. He talks himself hoarse until you pass him your soda. That manages to interrupt his flow of thought, and he apologizes sheepishly for getting too caught up in the movie. “S’okay, I like hearing you be passionate. What did you think of the cinematography?” and he’s off again, hands flying through the air as he tries to describe just what parts excited him the most.

It’s his stomach rumbling that interrupts him a second time, causing the two of you to laugh. Lunch gets eaten on the couch, plates carefully balanced on laps. You convince Jason to watch Pride and Prejudice and Zombies, and the look on his face when he gets torn between getting a version of his favourite book with added death jokes and wanting to point out how inaccurate a Regency society faced with the zombie apocalypse is, makes you have to constantly stifle giggles. You take turns after that, introducing each other to different movies as the pale sun slowly moves across the sky. Jason chooses a movie Damian made him watch, which despite the scary moments that have you burying your head in his shoulder, has some of the most beautifully shot scenes you’ve seen in a while. You get into a heated debate over Howl’s Moving Castle, eventually having to agree that book Sophie is more interesting but movie Howl is more dreamy. Jason has to dive for the popcorn bowl when you start yelling at the tv screen for the characters in the next movie to just talk to each other goddamn it! He indulges you when you rant about how most of the time the miscommunication trope is just lazy writing, that if the scriptwriters wanted to get the audience actually invested in the characters then they needed to stop making the climax something so easily fixable. You get so excited when something happens onscreen that you know a behind-the-scenes story about. Poking Jason in the side to make sure he’s listening before launching into an anecdote about how they’re actually only filming on horseback for the long shots, all of the closeups done on fake platforms to make filming easier. Or how the censorship rules of the time meant the director had to find a way for the characters to metaphorically kiss, and that’s why they’re always sharing cigarettes.

It’s beyond time for dinner, but full on snacks and treats, neither of you are feeling hungry yet. You’d introduced Jason to the magic of peanut M&Ms mixed into butter popcorn and you can tell that he’s going to be obsessed for the next while. The credits on the latest movie are rolling, there’s dishes to do and a couch to put back together, but all those things can wait. You look up from where you’re curled up beside him, cozy under the blanket and the weight of his arm, and he’s smiling down at you fondly. It doesn’t take much to stretch up and press your lips to his. He tastes like chocolate and salt and a long lazy afternoon. You can feel the edges of his lips turning up into a smile against yours.

“What was that for?” He murmurs.

“For listening to me ramble. And for introducing me to your favourite things.”