#that hadn't even existed as an idea before

[0perfectimperfections0]

What if Lou accidentally came to Uglyville before the uglydolls came to the Institute of Perfection?

Not sure exactly when you sent me this, but @subwhizz has a comic/graphic novel that they are working on called "Lou in Wonderland AU" and it is exactly what you're asking.

HOWEVER, I'm never gonna pass an opportunity to write out some ideas that sprung into my head. I do suggest reading the "Lou in Wonderland" story though. Sub is an amazing artist and an even better storyteller!

-------

The machines weren't perfect themselves by any means. Come to think of it, it would be pointless for Lou to even exist if the machines didn't intentionally create flawed dolls to a certain extent. But when Nolan popped into the Institute, Lou realized maybe the humans had let the factory go. There hadn't been that bad of a mess up since...

Lou shook the memories away, focusing on the never-ending tunnel in front of him as he walked. The flashlight flickered and the bulb made a static noise as it tried to warn Lou that the batteries were dying. He ignored it. Besides, the pipes only led to Perfection, so realistically he could just turn around and get back home easily.

It flickered again and Lou slammed the heel of his hand against it. "Stupid light..." He looked up, coming to a halt. "What in the world...?" The hole that normally led to the incinerator was blocked up with splintered wood and poorly driven in nails. No wonder he had mistakes like Nolan ending up in Perfection...

But that didn't entirely make sense either. The machines would realistically pop out a faulty doll out of every 100 or so made. He'd checked the math himself. That's what made Ox such a spectacle was that it was the first doll in years since the company started that hadn't been sorted correctly. But Nolan would still be recognized as a Pretty Doll. Despite his...differences, Nolan didn't have enough faults to him for the machine to deem him as a mistake.

So, if Lou hadn't seen any other faulty dolls...and the incinerator was blocked up...then where were mistakes going?

Lou blinked as the flashlight flickered one last time before dying unceremoniously. He sighed. This was a mystery for another day. Or whenever he could manage to steal the batteries from one of the robots again.

"Good thing the pipes all lead to--OHMYDOLL!" Lou screamed and felt his heart practically leap into his throat as he freefell into...well, it had looked like darkness before but now this was just liquid darkness he was slipping through. He desperately tried to reach his arms out in hope to grab onto something, but it felt like more pipe. But why was it going down!?

He screamed the whole way down, opting in closing his eyes despite not being able to see anything regardless, and praying that death would meet him quickly.

Light soon blinded him and he hardly had time to adjust his eyes before his whole body ached from crashing onto something hard. Luckily he landed on his back.

He groaned, eyes squinting in pain and still blinded by how much light there suddenly was. Some of it was blocked out suddenly by a weird, red figure. A wing-like appendage moved across his vision a few times and then he realized there was a voice connected to it.

Lou grimaced from the pain all through his back and head. "Please tell me I'm dead..."

The head of the figure tilted curiously. "I...w-well no...um...w-would you like to be?"

Lou put a heavy hand to his forehead. "Kind of. Are you gonna kill me?"

"No, but I do offer therapy sessions."

Who or whatever this voice belonged to had a lot more personality than the mindless dolls he trained on the daily. It didn't sound like such manufactured dialogue.

Something poked his side and Lou coughed as pain and a tickling sensation bubbled through him. "We have tons of food here too. You're awfully scrawny."

Lou waved the...it felt like an actual wing. What the heck. He opened his eyes blearily and finally got them to focus on...

A...bat? A red bat.

Lou scrambled back quickly. "What in the world are you?"

The bat looked surprised and a little put off by the reaction, but he spoke calmly. "My name is LuckyBat and I'm an UglyDoll, just like you!" He smiled with sharp fangs poking out of his lips.

"Excuse me?" Lou narrowed his eyes at the creature.

"Welcome to Uglyville! We never got an announcement of a new arrival. Did you get here through the flower?" LuckyBat paced a few circles around Lou, inspecting every inch of him.

Lou would lean a little ways opposite of wherever Lucky was as he revolved. "Flower?" The bat simply gestured upward. Lou followed up to the weird sunflower-looking thing jutting out of the cliff. "Yeah, I came out of that I think." Lou shook his head. "Where did you say this was?"

"Uglyville," Lucky straightened with a smile.

"Right..." Lou winced and forced himself to stand up. He rubbed the back of his head.

"I think this belongs to you. It fell out of the flower too." Lou squinted down. Lucky held up a dented flashlight to him.

Lou took it, already knowing it really wouldn't work anymore despite getting new batteries. "Thanks...What's your name again?"

"Luckybat." Boy, this newcomer sure had a bad memory.

"Why are you called that?"

"I'm usually very lucky. Lucky to have great friends, a great home, to be alive--"

Lou snorted. If this creature was here only because the incinerator was blocked, then yeah, he was lucky to be alive.

"What's so funny?" Lucky looked genuinely interested.

Lou shook his head quickly, going back to tinkering with the flashlight. "Nothing. I have another question."

"You're full of those, huh?" Lucky smiled.

The blond rolled his eyes. "Yeah. How do I get back up into the pi--flower?"

Lucky tilted his head. "You...want to leave?"

"Yes, very much so."

The bat seemed nervous now for some reason. "W-Well, I'm not so sure, but...I think I know someone who could help! She talks a lot about the flower and going through it. I'm sure she's got a million different ways to get up there!" Lucky bounded off ahead of Lou, not bothering to see if he was following.

Lou sighed, looking at the flashlight in his hand once before tossing it behind him and following the bat toward wherever.

The flashlight flickered back on behind them.

-----

I'll probably leave this right here for now and if you want a continuation I'll make the next parts longer.

Spoiler, I think I plan on continuing it anyway, but STILL.

It's also currently 1:40 in the morning where I am and I need to go to bed...

[thursdayinspace]

the problem is that Mulder and Scully can do literally anything at all and my brain goes HEY FIC IDEA. like they're just standing there doing nothing and another document appears in my wip folder.

[bonefall]

this isn't a question about your rewrite but as you are The Warrior Cats Pro i figured id throw it out there... why is it that, even though there have been way more books taking place at the lake territory, both in the main wc series and beyond, than the old forest territory, but the forest territory is still so much more memorable and always what i think of when i think of warriors, and the lake feels so uninteresting and forgettable?

because the lake map FUNDAMENTALLY sucks baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalloons.

In a series about border drama and forbidden relationships, they have put a huge, impassable obstacle smack in the middle of the map. You ever heard the expression, "Tall fences make good neighbors?" This is supposed to be the BAD NEIGHBORS series and they have put the world's tallest fence in the game.

The lake was a fundamentally bad idea. Simple as that.

It was so bad I reworked the Lake Map for my own rewrite.

I made more contested land, such as putting field maples which produce syrup just beyond the Wind/Thunder gorge.

Added Northern Islets and Southern Delta which have value to several clans

Expanded RiverClan's territory so they can hypothetically reach ProtagonistClan, RE: Northern Islets.

I need to make Draft 2 but I also added more uncontested landmarks akin to the old Forest landmarks. For example, ThunderClan now has a patch of old-growth forest. Places like the Owl Tree and Snakerocks are super important as flavorings.

[galacticrain]

This is how this cutscene went right

[vilevampire]

it's so funny how I've seen multiple jazzllocer shippers say something like "I'm the biggest jazzllocer fan (because there's no one else to take this spot)" like I swear I've seen at least a few people say smth to that effect or something that implies it and I'm just like . guys . guys we can't ALL be the #1 jazzllocer shipper that's just not how it works

[florida3exclamationpoints]

My mom just came in my room right after I got home to be like how did it go???? What happened???? When are you going back?? How do you feel??? Are you ok???? What are your hours???? What did they say??? And I know she means well but

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCXDP Fic Idea: Mr. Flavor's Soda

Danny gets thrown into an alternate dimension.

Which, sucks especially when he was just flying through the ghost zone on an exploration and had been attacked by a tribe of ghosts he had never seen before.

They looked surprisingly human, were it not for their horns and wings. Danny hadn't seen them coming, one moment he was looking at the Infinite Map trying to find his way back to the main section of the zone and the next he was being hurled to the ground from a flying net.

He hit the ground hard, with a startled yelp, as the ghosts surrounded him, each welding a sharp looking spears.

Danny wasn't sure what the net was made of, but it had forced him back into Fenton and deactivated his powers.

The tribe had been chanting in a language he could not understand, dragging him through their village as various creatures with similar features peaked out at him.

He been a helpless human staring up at the crowd as they sang and danced around a stone statue. Then a woman wearing a lovely golden leaf head piece stood up, and all went silent.

She gave what Danny thinks is a speech, waving her arms up and above her head. The crowd ate it up, cheering whenever she took a pause. The woman pointed to the stone as it began to glow, bowing it while flapping her wings.

Danny watched the crowd copy her actions intrigued by the strange festival until two large men flew over to him and lifted up his net. Their wings flapped in tune with the drums that picked up, carefully flying Danny over the crowd who all chanted and gently grazed their hands along his net covered body.

Danny felt unease, especially when the little tour ended with him dangling before the flowing stone that ripped open to a portal. It was ink black instead of the ussual green and horror creeps into his mind as the woman waves a staff over his head, the jingle of the bells attached to gently shaking.

Then the men through him through the portal. Danny's screams are drown out by the drums, stomping and joyful songs of the tribe that attacked him.

He has been sacrificed. He thought it would be the end, but instead, he wound up falling into a dumpster in a dirty alley back on Earth.

It took ages to wiggle his way the net, but by that point, Danny was too grateful to be alive to really care. When he stumbled out of the alley he came to find it was not his Earth.

His Earth did not have a place called Gotham. He been sent to a wrong universe, which wasn't the first time, but this time his powers were out of reach, locked within due to whatever net they had shoved him into.

The net disintegrated before his eyes, not even allowing him to study.

Danny was pissed. He wandered the streets, hoping to find help. All he had on his person was his student ID (which meant nothing if his school didn't exist) his broken phone and the credit card he had stolen from Vlad.

Testing the card at a gas station for a bottle of water, he held his breath as the clerk ran it and almost collapsed in relief as it went through.

Too bad the card had a limit of three thousand. He knew since he checked when he took it. It would be enough for a little while, but who knew with the economy in this world for how long. Everything was much more expensive, even the bottle of water was two dollars and fifty-five cents when back home it would have been Ninty five cents.

Danny needed a plan. He stumbled to a run-down motel and got a room wincing at the nightly rented it. Thank goodness the front receptionist didn't ask for an ID, as he checked him in.

Danny spent three whole days like this, trying to get Phantom to come forth from whatever lock he was stuck behind and wandering Gotham looking for anything familiar.

Eventually, Danny got a craving for a Coca-cola, and when he tried to find one, he came to the horrifying realization that his favorite drink did not exist. Not in this world.

Thank goodness Danny knew how to make some homemade version of it. He bought the supplies, telling himself it was worth the slight dent in his funds.

The receptionists at the motel startled when Danny breezed by carrying a lab kit (he only knew how to make it in a chemistry set since Tucker and he did it for a school assignment) and various groceries. She gave Danny an alarmed expression when he stumbled out a few hours later drinking his black liquid heaven.

Danny hadn't noticed she had gone for her phone with a pale face and shaking hands as he wandered around the city. He only realized something was wrong when he came back later that evening, carrying more supplies, determined to regain his various soda flavors he missed since his displacement.

As he was working, his rented room looked like a miniature lab as various sodas were carefully crafted. The following morning as Danny was attempting to scare his powers back into action by leaping off low fire escape he noticed a group of kids watching him.

They were just a filthy as Danny, so likely as homeless as him. Danny choose to ignore them as he raced up and down the stairs, doing flips to try to get his ghost side back. Eventually, a younger one creeper closer, staring at the re-purposed water bottled filled with his precious soda.

"Whats that stuff?" The kid asked eyeing the homemade cola with far too much interest.

"Cola" He responds, curious why the kid would get near someone who looked, honestly, insane. He would never have gone near someone taking two story jumps but that's just Danny.

"Is it strong?" The kid asks

Danny blinks. " I don't think so? I've been drinking it for a while, so it's pretty tamed for me"

"Where you get it?"

"I made it."

The kid nods, hand stuffed into his pocket before pulling out a crumbled twenty bill. "How much?"

"What?"

"How much for a bottle?" The kid asks, voice taking a sudden desperate tune.

Danny eyes the bill "I don't have any change. Just take the bottle. I can make more."

The boy's eyes bug out of his skull but he grabs a bottle and scrambles back to his group as if though he was worried Danny would change his mind. Odd.

The group of kids share the bottle between. They drink it quickly, some making faces as the carbonated bubbles go up their noses but happy.

The bottle is empty too quickly, and the kid comes stumbling back. "I know you said you didn't have change, but how many bottles could this buy me?"

Danny stares, and then he looks down at his haul. He has seven bottles left - one for each kid if he counted them right. "Look bring me smaller bills next time but for now just take the drinks"

"What kind of drug is it, if you dint mind me asking?" The boy says politely and Danny startles so hard he bangs his head on the metal latter.

A swears escapes his lips as the tiny boy- he could be no older then ten!- stiffens as if frighten. The group of kids behind him all become weary.

"It's not drugs! It's soda!"

"Soda?" The boy repeats confused then shrugs. "Sure man. Thanks!"

Taking all the bottles, the boy scrambles away, leaving the alley with his group as they all cheer. Danny shakes his head at them. This place is wild. He goes back to his jumps and ends up with more bruises than glowing powers.

But the following week the boy and his group retrun each carrying ones. Danny sells them more Cola for a dollar a piece encouraging them to save their bottles since he was running low. Then the week after that and the week after that, each time the group getting bigger.

Soon Danny starts to add different flavors, he hasn't found Sprite, Fonta or Dr.Pepper and he tries his best to bring the flavors back into this world. The kids loss their minds over it.

They nickname him Mr.Flavor since Danny forgets to introduce himself and now the little demons refuse to use his name even when he tells them. Danny realizes something weird is going on when adults start popping up in his alley also looking for a bottle.

He ends up making a steady income, walking home with a wab of cash. This is great since he is pretty sure he's near his card limit. The receptionist still eyes him with weary eyes but hasn't said anything as Danny builds a steady fulling for his drinks.

That's why when he wobbles back to his rented room now covered in even more reckless bruises, he is shocked to find his soda lab smashed to bits and a man in a red hood waiting for him.

"What the hell!" He yells as the man pointed a gun at his head.

"You think you can set up shop in my territory?" The man's growl is able to hear even with the voice changer.

Danny bristles "I can sell my soda wherever I want-"

"Soda?" The guy pauses, looking down at the various liquids sinking into the carpet. Before Danny can yell at him, the man reaches down and grabs two water bottles of every flavor. He walks backward to the smashed window - likely how he got in - with the gun still trained on Danny. "If this is anything other than Soda, say goodbye to your knee caps"

Danny lifts his chin "Shoot me. I'll turn ghost!"

The man says nothing as he flips backward through the window and vanishes into the night. Danny huffs, taking stock of the damage.

All his very small earthly possessions except for his three pairs of pants and shirts ( bought from a second-hand store with his soda money) were all ruined. He stumbles down to the front to report the damage, and the lady at the front actually shakes while telling him that they don't mind the damage.

Danny gives her a fifty as a thanks.

He tells the people the next day what happened. They all make faces and groan when he says it'll take time to replace his supplies. It's three days later that he finds the same helmet man in his room again. He was hit by a car earlier that night in a very desperate attempt to active his powers so he limps in, half sure he broken a bone or two.

The driver had speed away. A hit and run that hopefully won't be reported so no one will know Danny had noticed the driver was drunk and chose to get hit.

Danny spreads his arms "shoot me! Do it!"

Surely being shot would get Phantom back

The man shifts uncomfortable on his feet. "I'm not here to shoot you. I'm here to apologize. I tested your drinks and realized they were soda after all."

"So you smashed my stuff without verifying what it was? Lord of the flies you're evil!"

The man pauses. "Lord of the flies?"

"It's a classic. Read a book, pill head"

The man laughs. "I read plenty brat. Anyway, I brought you some gifts as a apology"

He pulls a tarp of a pile that Danny hadn't noticed in the dark. He gasps in delight when he sees state of the art chemistry sets all set up on a nice big table. He scrambled to the layout, eyes gleaming on the different syrups.

"This is awesome!" He chirps, picking up test tubes and checking thier quality. His mom would approve. His eyes catch a box underneath the table, which he quickly pulls out.

Inside are empty, new plastic disposals bottles. The lable has a shadowed leaping boy over the words "Mr. flavor Soda"

Danny gasps.

"I thought you needed a brand name." The man says, handing him a paper. "When you run out, go to this recycling place. They know to give you new bottles with your lable. Also, carry that sellers permit, or the cops will give you trouble. You know Anthony's Pasta?"

Danny gapes at the paper, blinking slowly. "No?"

"It's in Crime Alley. The Italian restaurant at the corner. They'll agreed to let you sell your drinks in thier lobby every Friday and Monday from opening to closing. There should be a light board in one of the boxes. Set up a menu for that day."

"What? Why would they agree to that?"

Danny can't see his face, but he thinks the man is smirking. "They owe me a favor or two. Do you best, kid, and stay off the streets"

"I'm not a kid. I'm fourteen, " Danny says, lifting his chin.

"Sure." The man steps back towards the window. Which seems to have been fixed in the nine hours Danny was out. Odd. "And kid? Please go to the free clinic."

He throws a business card with the clinics information before he vanishes into the shadows again.

Danny is left standing there with endorsement for a bubbling soda business with a shock expression.

Well, at least he has something to make some cash while getting his powers back.

[dreamcubed]

i think he knows | theodore nott x reader

song; i think he knows [taylor swift] pairing; theodore nott x ravenclaw!fem!reader genre; not actually unrequited love, s2l, fluff word count; 3,1k timeline; half-blood prince warnings; swearing, theo's lack of communication summary; you had fancied the mysteriously quiet slytherin boy for as long as you could remember (since first year), and, quite frankly, your best friend was sick of you going on about it without ever making a move

masterlist

"wanna see what's under that attitude."

—————————————

Truth was, you knew you weren't special for having your attention caught by Theodore Nott. Despite his almost entirely anti-social personality and apparent grumpiness, many girls longed after him. You completely understood, of course; there was something enticing about a potentially misunderstood quiet boy, and the idea of becoming the one person they show affection to was self-indulging.

The fact of the matter, as your best friend, Cho, frequently pointed out, was that you had never even so much as spoken to him. You hoped he at least knew you existed, from the times you had been praised in class for your assignments, but you had no proof that he even recognised your face.

"Babe, it's sixth year now- that's over five years of you fancying Nott," Cho said as she caught your gaze lingering over to the Slytherin table again. It was your second day back after summer, so you had a lot of long-distance admiring to catch up on.

"Okay, so?" you replied, not even bothering to move your eyes away from the object of your desires.

"So, it's time that you do something about it," she continued, shovelling scrambled eggs on to both her plate and yours, "Do you really want to leave Hogwarts without any dating experience?"

You finally prized your eyes away from Nott, opting instead to meet your concerned best friend's gaze, "I don't think it's the sort of time to be thinking about dating."

"It's especially the time to think about it," she said, "Our lives may be shorter than we think they are - don't die with regrets."

You sighed, unable to argue.

"Plus, it really wouldn't hurt to have some positivity around here. You can feel how much heavier the air is than before."

That, you had to agree with. People were still laughing in their friend groups throughout the hall, sure, but there was a lingering sense of dread that had stuck with everyone since the Triwizard Tournament and reign of Umbridge, and it was only getting worse.

"Maybe," you finally concluded, picking up your fork to dig into your breakfast.

"You have nothing to lose," she added, "Your social circles are completely separate, and, you're pretty as fuck."

You couldn't help but smile at her compliment, "Even if that's true, I'm completely inexperienced."

"It's not that hard."

"Yeah, says the girl who had both Hogwarts champions drooling over her. No offence, babe, but you're biased."

"That could just have easily been you if you'd ever spoken to either of them."

"Whatever you say."

Cho sighed, deciding to not argue any further with you on the matter - for now.

***

It was amazing how potions went from your least favourite subject to your favourite after Slughorn took over from Snape. The lessons were no longer a fear-inducing chore, but instead a time of laughter and enjoyable learning: the way it should be.

Harry Potter especially seemed to be flourishing in the subject, much to the dismay of Hermione Granger, who usually took the spot at the top of the class. You were glad to not be a part of their constantly hectic lifestyles, although you had almost been when Cho had a thing with Harry the year prior.

Regardless, your main focus during potions was the gorgeous Slytherin boy who sat across the classroom from you - another of the best students in the class. Your seat was stationed at the perfect angle to sneak glances at him without raising too much suspicion: you definitely hadn't ensured that a few weeks ago during the first lesson or anything.

"Shit, I forgot the anjelica," you muttered to yourself, gazing at the list of ingredients in front of you as you had been wondering why your potion was a navy blue when it was meant to be a royal blue.

You left your station to head over to the ingredients cupboard, where you gazed at the arrangement before you. It was organised alphabetically, so your eyes shifted to the top left hand corner where you spotted the jar that you were after.

You stood on your tiptoes in attempt to reach it, but after failing, you huffed, going to pull out your wand instead. That was when a hard chest pressed against your back and a large pale hand grasped the very jar that you were in dire need of. You turned around quickly only to spot the guy you had fancied for an unhealthy amount of time - and his face was shockingly close to yours. His scent swarmed your nostrils, making your knees weak.

He raised an eyebrow at you.

Coming to your senses, you cleared your throat, "Uh, I need some of that anjelica- please."

His eyes shifted down to the jar in his hand as he stepped back slightly. The added distance meant that you could finally breathe.

Nott presented the jar to you, and you gratefully took it, thanking him in the process. As you went to open it and take what you needed, he left the cupboard and went back to his station, which was in view of where you were. You remained shocked for a few moments: did he not need some of the herb? His eyes locked on to yours from where he now was, making you panic and quickly depart the cupboard with the jar still in your hand.

Rowena, how did Cho expect you to ask him out when you couldn't even make eye contact with him?

***

The following morning, you were sat at breakfast with Cho and your other fellow Ravenclaws, busy discussing the latest ancient runes essay that you had to complete. Just as you began to discuss the difficulties you had with writing the conclusion, you were interrupted by the sound of owls from above. The morning post had arrived.

Typically, you didn't get anything. Maybe the occasional letter from your mother, but that was about it. So, you were mildly surprised to see an envelope drop in front of you.

It was a very small envelope: that was the most confusing part. You couldn't think as to why your mother wouldn't send a normal-sized letter, but you opened it nonetheless. Only, the contents of the envelope made your stomach drop as dread filled your bones and veins.

A tiny note was enclosed, that wasn't addressed or signed, and it simply read "I see you staring at me". Instinctively, your eyes looked up and over to the Slytherin table, where Theodore Nott sat, evidently having been watching you this entire time. His face was completely blank, until he arched an eyebrow at you - clearly a favoured expression of his - which made you begin panicking.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled, "Fuck, fuck, fuck."

Only Cho, who was sat next to you, heard your profanities, and turned to you with confusion adorning her face. "What is it?"

You passed the note over to her, still gazing at Nott who now had the slightest of amused smirks tugging on his lips.

"Oh, fuck," Cho mimicked you, finally making you prize your eyes away from the boy, "Yeah, I see why you're panicking."

"This is going to socially ruin me," you sighed, "He'll probably tell the other Slytherins and then they'll bully me until the end of my school career."

"Okay, catastrophising much?" she said, gently slapping you, "Nott like never talks, I highly doubt he divulges his friends with personal information."

"Yeah, his personal information!" you whisper-yelled.

"I mean, maybe he likes you back."

"What?"

"He doesn't indicate at all in that note that he's mad at you for staring at him."

"Yeah, but, don't you think he'd go about it in a different way if he returned the feelings?"

Cho paused to think for a moment, "No, actually. Maybe he was pretty sure that you were staring at him, but needed to confirm it. So, he wrote that note to you, intentionally not signing it, to see if you would immediately look to him after reading it."

Your eyes widened with realisation, "Wait, are you saying I could have still saved myself, but instead instantly looked in his direction like a fucking idiot?"

"Y/N," she hit your arm, "I think this is a good thing. Try and be more optimistic."

"Easy for you to say."

***

You felt sick to your stomach as you arrived at your potions lesson that day, keeping your head down as you took your usual seat. Normally, this would be when you'd steal your first glance at Theodore Nott, but the thought of seeing his face again paralysed you with fear.

"Y/N, relax," Cho whispered to you, but her words were futile. Relaxation seemed impossible in times like this.

"Today, class, I want you to pair up with someone you don't usually work with," Professor Slughorn announced, "By that I mean, someone who isn't from your house and doesn't sit on your table."

You mumbled a curse under your breath as people began to move around, looking up to try and locate the nice Hufflepuff girl you sat next to in history of magic. Only, Cho had already disappeared to her side, and they were chatting happily with each other. Rowena, this was bad. You didn't have the biggest social circle.

"Excellent, everyone seems to be in pairs," Slughorn spoke, making you furrow your eyebrows.

Looking to your side, you were shocked to see that Nott had silently sat next you, and was gazing at you intently.

"Hi," you squeaked, flashbacks of breakfast flooding back to you.

He gave you a curt nod, and turned back to face the front.

You didn't listen to a single instruction that Slughorn gave after that, as your brain was much too pre-occupied with concepts of social suicide and humiliation. Was Nott just trying to torture you?

"L/N," a deep voice snapped you out of your thoughts. That was it. The first time you had ever heard Theodore Nott speak.

You turned to him, only to realise that everyone was standing up and getting ingredients - had you really been that spaced out?

It must have been evident in your facial expression that you had no idea what was going on, because Nott opened his potions book and pointed at the potion that you were making. You looked at the ingredient list, but you couldn't say that you were actually taking any of it in.

Clearly, Nott was aware of this fact, and let out a small sigh that made you feel exceptionally guilty. Regardless, he walked over to the ingredients cupboard himself without another word and soon returned with everything you needed. In the meantime, you had snapped out of your stupor and set up the cauldron and cutting board. You didn't want him to completely regret pairing up with you.

What potion were you even making? You finally processed the words on the page: amortentia. Your eyes widened.

This might not end well.

***

You had never thought being a remarkable potion maker - who was collaborating with a fellow remarkable potion maker - would be a bad thing. It turned out that it very much could be when the steam from your concoction wafted up your nose, overwhelming your senses with the smell of intertwined chestnut and paper money. As if the faint scent of Nott that you picked up on whenever he walked past didn't make you nervous enough, now it filled the entire room, since you certainly weren't the only capable potion makers in the class.

"Alright, class, it seems that we have all about finished," Slughorn clapped his hands together, "And, now, for my favourite part."

You had a feeling you knew what was coming.

"Miss Parkinson, what does the potion smell like to you?"

"Uh," the girl flushed a bit, her eyes flicking towards Draco Malfoy, "I don't know how to describe it - clean, expensive. Like a really fancy fragrance."

"Fascinating, most fascinating," Slughorn replied, his eyes gleaming, "Mr Nott, what about you?"

Were you already about to hear him speak for the second time? He hadn't spoke throughout the entire potion making process, which, to be honest, you were kind of glad for.

"Coconut," he said simply, "And vanilla."

Your breath hitched.

You used coconut shampoo.

Your favourite perfume was a vanilla scent.

"That is most interesting!" Slughorn grinned, "It is fascinating to hear what enraptures you all the most!"

You didn't realise that your eyes had glued on to Nott as Slughorn proceeded to ask other students what amortentia smelled of to them until the Slytherin boy turned to face you and raised a singular eyebrow.

You felt warm underneath his gaze.

He smirked.

***

You packed up at the end of the lesson, preparing to return to the Ravenclaw tower until dinner time along with Cho who was still across the room. Just as you were about to walk over to her, Nott grabbed your arm and jerked his head in the direction of the door. It was a silent invitation to walk with him somewhere, from what you could gather. You turned around to tell Cho where you were going, but she had already disappeared, much to your confusion.

The first few minutes of the walk were in silence, and the awkwardness was killing you. It was only once you had emerged from the dungeons that Nott finally said something.

"You aren't subtle."

A lightning bolt of shock and nerves shot up your spine and made you stiffen up as you walked. You managed to force out a mumble of, "I know."

He shrugged, "It's cute."

Had you heard him right? No, you couldn't have. You just weren't used to hearing his voice.

"I thought you were shy," you muttered, but he heard and chuckled a bit.

"No. Just quiet."

You clutched your books close to your chest.

"You're shy," he added.

You nodded.

He chuckled again, and silence ensued for another couple minutes.

"Hogsmeade," he said.

You hummed in surprise.

"This weekend. Me, you."

Your jaw dropped - did he mean a date? A Hogsmeade invitation had certain implications among Hogwarts students.

But he didn't clarify, not once on the way to the Ravenclaw tower.

***

"Relax, Y/N, you'll be great," Cho assured you, wrapping your scarf around your neck since the autumn breeze was nippy in Scotland.

"I don't even know if it's a date."

"Of course it's a date," she shook her head, "Everyone knows what inviting someone to Hogsmeade means."

You grimaced, "I don't know if Nott is the most up to date with social norms."

"Regardless, he's not a fucking idiot."

You gave your best friend a small smile.

"Now, he'll be waiting for you in the courtyard, so hurry!"

***

You had only ever seen Theodore Nott in casual clothing from afar before, catching a glimpse of him before he disappeared amongst the other Slytherins. But, Rowena, you had been missing out on quite an indulgent sight.

How could a man make such a simple outfit of a knitted jumper and baggy jeans look so good? You didn't understand it, unable to feel anything but self-conscious in your own ensemble.

He didn't smile at you as you approached, but instead gave you a curt nod. And, as you both began walking towards the carriage, the silence was truly beginning to suffocate you. So, you reached inside the crevices of your brain to talk about something - anything - and finally landed on informing him of every little thing that had happened to you that week. It wasn't particularly interesting, mainly because you were omitting the details about him, but it meant that the quietness was filled with your babbling.

Which was how it went the entire journey to Hogsmeade.

At first you weren't sure he was listening, but when you paused mid sentence for a moment, he raised his eyebrow at you and gestured for you to go on. So you did.

"...and honestly, I don't know why Cho thought that was a good idea," you sighed as you both stepped out of the carriage, "She nearly set her hair on fire!"

You heard a small chuckle erupt from the boy next to you, making you look over to him in surprise.

"What about you? How's your week been?" you asked cautiously, nervous to see his reaction to a question that required a wordy response.

He shrugged.

It was frustrating.

You chewed your lip for a few seconds, "Look- I get you find communication difficult. But, please, I need more to work with here."

He gave you a surprised expression, and stopped walking, making you halt too. Nott looked around pensively, completely unreadable.

"Nott?"

He looked at you and scowled, "Theo," he corrected.

"Theo- what are you doing?"

Letting out a loud exhale, he grabbed your hand and pulled you away from the main street of Hogsmeade and to a more hidden area behind some of the houses. When you turned around, you realised that he was right in front of you - to the point that you could feel the warmth of his breath on your face.

"I'm not good with words," he mumbled.

You hummed in agreement.

"I don't like talking to people," he continued, "But I want to talk to you."

Your breath hitched, "Really?"

"I'm not an idiot- I've known that you've fancied me for years."

You felt your ears heat up.

"But this year, when we started back, I-" he paused, trying to piece together the words in his mind, "I saw you, and it was different than before. I wanted your attention."

A smile crept on to your face as you gazed up at him.

"So, I know I need to work on being open - but I want to try. For you."

You don't know where the wave of confidence came from, but you found yourself pressing your lips against his and combing your fingers through his hair. He gasped at the sudden contact, but quickly reciprocated the affection until you pulled apart.

"Rowena... I always thought you knew. I can't believe I was right."

"Horrifying?"

"A little," you nodded, "But it's obviously worked out."

————————————————

masterlist

written; 03/06/2023 —> 15/08/2023 published;17/08/2023 edited; —/—/——

[unsteddie]

Steve and Eddie are on again off again for years after the events of st4. It's never too serious, they have basically opposite schedules. Eddie tends bar and plays with his band, existing mostly at night. Steve gets a degree and moves onto being a school counselor, late nights are the bane of his existence. It's easier when they live together, but over the years they've moved in and out of the little place they share with Robin.

Eddie's moved cities a few times, tried living with the band, has been on and off tour. Steve moved back home when his parents divorced for about a year to help his mom out, moved in and usually quickly out with partners. He volunteered a few summers to live in low income rural areas and help with the schools summer programs.

They just never quite get the timing right to try anything other than casual. It's honestly tearing Steve apart, it's been the source of every break up he's had since meeting the man. Eddie however seems entirely unbothered.

Steve knows for a fact he's Eddie's favorite person. Even when Eddie is "seeing" someone else, Eddie's relationships are never serious, he still prefers to spend his time with Steve. He just doesn't get why Eddie doesn't want something real, but he doesn't push, doesn't wanna lose what he has

It's a full decade of this nonsense before the song Quit Playing Games With My Heart by The Backstreet Boys comes out. Steve doesn't really care much about the band, he likes boy band music well enough. It's fun and catchy and danceable. But he's picking Eddie up from the airport, back from a three month stint in LA recording and promoting with the band. And the air is tense as the lyrics spill out of the radio, and it makes Steve feel heavy.

The song ends but he's still pretty misty, it's only ten minutes back to the apartment. He can hold it back, and when they're home he'll just excuse himself and cry quietly on his bed. He's done it plenty of times before, this is no different, he's got this, he's good.

"Stevie?" Eddie asks softly, and his his voice sounds strained, like something's got him worked up too.

Steve can't respond, not with his voice, so he just sort of nods, doesn't look at Eddie, but can feel the weight of Eddie's stare.

"What is it about me that you don't wanna stick around for?" He asks quietly, but there's a solid quality to his tone, like this is a question he's resolved to ask many times, and finally got his nerve up.

Steve doesn't respond for a long time, as pieces slowly move into place. Eddie has always seemed so unaffected, even congratulating Steve when things got serious with someone else. But if he looked closely at Eddie's reactions now, in retrospect, with the way he asked his quiet question, it clicks.

Eddie never liked any of Steve's partners, always gave Steve an out of he needed it, was always a little petty about Steve's ex's after a breakup. The thought that maybe, for all these years, a decade now, they'd been wasting their time keep things casual was just...well it was fucking hilarious. Terrible and heartbreaking, sure. But it kick started ridiculous sounding giggles.

Giggles quickly snowballed into full hysterical laughter. He glanced at Eddie who looked hurt, which was absurd. Steve's laughter became unhinged, and he had to pull off the road. Eddie didn't look hurt anymore when he looked back, he looked furious, and he was wiping his cheeks. Steve hadn't seen tears, but the idea that Eddie was crying over him did nothing to quell the laughter.

The moment the car stopped Eddie threw the door open, and climbed out. Grabbing his duffle from the back seat. He managed to stomp a good distance away before Steve could get himself together enough to chase after him. He was still giggling when he caught up enough to grab the strap of Eddie's bag. He pulled it back hard enough to knock Eddie off balance, and had to reach out to steady him.

"Eddie please," he paused to laugh and catch his breath as Eddie struggled to pull out of his grip. "Please, baby, give me a minute."

Eddie froze at that. They didn't use pet names like that. Nothing so relationship-y. It was enough to make Eddie wait for him. Steve didn't let go though, terrified Eddie might run off without a proper explanation.

He didn't know how to explain it, the years of longing, the way he'd wanted to ask the same question so many times, how he ached for him. He certainly didn't know how to explain his reaction.

"I don't know why it made me laugh like that." He started once he had his breathing under control. "Some stupid pop song-" and he was laughing again because this was stupid. He threw his hands up in frustration, immediately grabbing onto Eddie again when his hands came back down.

"some stupid pop song had me on the brink of tears, because my stupid, broken heart-" more laughter, and Steve was getting really tired of this. "Aches for you, when you've, I guess-" laughter, "been feeling the same way. God Eddie how stupid are we?"

And with that the giggles were gone, his insides had gone suddenly still, and he felt the loss of the time they could have had.

"how long?" Eddie asked, quiet again, he was never this quite. When Steve looked at him now his face was hard to read, tears still brimming in his eyes, but the anger and hurt were gone.

"since the boat house probably, at least since the hospital, for sure. When you woke up and you were cuffed to the bed. The first thing you said was some joke about being flattered they thought you were that dangerous. I knew for sure then, but I think it started in the boat house." Steve flushed, his face hot and pink.

"God, no, that's ..we can't have been feeling the same way so long. Stevie, what have we been doing?" Tears were falling, both men crying on the side of the road, and Eddie was holding onto Steve now too.

"Didn't think you'd want me for real. Didn't think anyone-" Steve coughed around the lump in his throat. "Tried to move on, so many times. Never could, it always came back to you."

And Eddie was suddenly in his arms, weeping, getting tight words out between sobs. "Never. Anything. Compare. No one. Even close. Just you. My Stevie."

"Didn't catch all that sweetheart. You'll have to tell me the rest later." Steve whispered into his ear, and Eddie melted in his arms, nodding emphatically into Steve's shoulder.

The time they waisted sat heavy on Steve's shoulders, but he had Eddie now. Eventually they would joke about it, about pining after each other for a decade before getting thier shit together, but it was gonna hurt for a while still.

[murdrdocs]

thinking abt peacekeeper!snow needing asking you to sit on his face bc he heard abt it in the barracks but he never heard abt it in the capitol and now he cant stop thinking abt it and then he gets real messy and desperate w it🫠

he fiddles with his thumbs before asking you. his head ducked, a shyness he hasn't felt in a while clouding over his being. he picks at his hangnails, and instead picks at the loose threads of his uniform whenever you slap his hands away from their assault.

"your hands are pretty as they are, don't mess with them," you chastise easily, a teasing smirk woven in your words as you turn your head away from him. with your back facing him, you don't see him take a step towards you.

you jump when his hands press against your waist, then you melt back against his chest when he implants a kiss to your head. coriolanus opens his mouth to ask you, then he closes it and doubts himself, and then he remembers the stories from the other peacekeepers in the barracks.

the way they described it all. the girl above them using their mouth like that, in a way they didn't even know they would like. how she writhed and cried out as she ground her hips along their faces. usually, such crass talk would make coriolanus uncomfortable. but then, with the picture of you in mind, he couldn't stop listening. he filled in the images of you with their words, grateful that the other men would begin their recounts of their lewd endeavors when coriolanus was already tucked in bed with a blanket covering his crotch.

just the thought of bringing his imagination to reality makes him voice the idea to you. and it should be embarrassing how delighted he gets when you agree.

and it's better than coriolanus could imagine. never would he think he would enjoy intimate activities to be so messy, but he figures that he simply enjoys stripping away your own pristine and civilized nature and instead turning you into this: a pretty thing sat above him, cunt flushed against his mouth as you work yourself back and forth. your hands flail around helplessly with nothing to grab onto, coriolanus' curly locks that you hadn't even known to ever exist gone. instead, you dig your nails into his shoulders, the newly toned and newly tanned expanses of them providing enough stability for you to ground yourself. for your previously guttural groans of frustration to melt into pretty moans of pleasure.

your clit brushes against his nose with your movements and eventually, coriolanus realizes what the slight probe does for you. he grips your ass cheeks with his nails, both hands cupping as much of the flesh between his palms as he can, and he takes over. he brings you as tight against his mouth as he can, and works his tongue as well as he can against you. he moves his head, too, just enough to provide the friction from the pointy tip of his nose against the searching sensitive bud. all the while, his bright blue eyes never part from your frame. he refuses to look away for even a second. he refuses to blink, and when you look down, he has tears of desperation leaking down his face, only adding to the mess.

he wants to speak to you, to encourage you and praise you like you deserve. but his mouth is occupied, and he likes it like this, with you spewing out disjointed words that often don't make any sense.

"coryo, it's s'good. i – ah – you're so good at this, coryo. 'm so close. please, make me cum, coryo. i'll do whatever you want me to, just please don't stop."

and when you do cum around his tongue, wet and messy and oh so sweet, coriolanus commits the entire ordeal to memory, storing it somewhere deep where he'll never share the details with anyone else.

you're his to keep. only his.

[nutmeggery]

I need Neil Gaiman to know that Good Omens 2 made me feel emotions I haven't felt in nearly a decade.

When I heard there was going to be a Good Omens 2 I was looking forward to it, of course. I just wasn't expecting it do anything super special to my emotions. I was sure I'd enjoy it, though. I really enjoyed s1.

But, for the last few years, I watched shows and afterwards basically thought well, that was fun, and I quickly moved on and didn't think much about them. There was only about 3 shows in the last 5 years that had made me feel truly emotional and stayed on my mind to the point where I felt like I needed to engage in fandom for a while. (Good Omens 1 was one of them.)

I wasn't spoiled by the leak. I never even knew there was a leak. So I had no idea what was coming in s2. And oh boy...

See, I'd watched Our Flag Means Death, a show where you don't expect the lead characters to kiss, because, well, that never happens in these types of shows, right? And this is important because when they did kiss, it felt like a door that had been locked with just about all the high security locks in the world had suddenly, inexplicably, been opened. Something switched inside me. It took me months to understand what it was, but when I thought about Good Omens before s2 came out, I realized what it was.

I would never truly enjoy a bromance they're-only-queer/in love-by-your-own-interpreation story ever again. Stories where nothing is confirmed, just subtext that anyone who doesn't want to see it can easily deny and mock those who wish it was more.

While it was clear that Crowley and Aziraphale cared a lot about each other in s1, and were probably in love, it was still just a fun ship for fans to play with in fanfiction and fanart. Do they love each other? Oh sure. In what way? Well, that's up to interpretation. Ok, cool. But it's not quite Our Flag Means Death, is it?

Then I watched Good Omens 2. And from episode 1 I saw my favourite Angel and Demon duo love each other. And I was having the best time. I hadn't had such a good time watching a show in a long while. It was not only right up my alley, it was an alley I wasn't even aware was my alley until I saw it. I enjoyed seeing the old characters, the new characters. Oh, I was wonderful.

It was clear to me that, of course Crowley and Aziraphale love each other, are IN love with each other, showing it in their own way. And I wasn't expecting it to be THIS obvious.

And then when the kiss happened, I couldn't believe it. I covered my mouth with both hands and gasped and sat up straight in my seat. I had never expected it--the heartbreak it added to the already heartbreaking scene--it rewired something inside me.

It was like my emotions had been locked up in a stall like a horse for so, so long, and now the gate had been opened, the stable door kicked down, and the horse was running out onto the large pasture into the daylight, bucking and kicking up grass. Oh my god, I have to take a few minutes to process that entire 6 hour marathon of emotions.

And by a few minutes I meant a few days.

More than a few, actually.

I didn't need a kiss to understand how much they loved each other, but I did need the kiss to understand how intense and heartbreaking their separation is for them after everything.

But more than that, the kiss broke a barrier. They really did it, I thought. They really dared.

Aziraphale and Crowley aren't human males, no, but they're played by male actors. And that is significant. That makes the kiss significant. In the world we currently live in.

Weeks later, I'm still obsessed with the show, re-watching s1 and 2, reading the book again, listening to the audio drama. And I'm on tumblr, seeing people's posts and art to somehow sate my hunger for a s3 that doesn't exist (yet).

And I'm having a wonderful time.

[junkissed]

can't get you out of my head

member — fwb!vernon x f reader genre — smut, like a little tiny bit of angst? with a happy ending word count — 2.4k synopsis — so what if calling your fuck buddy every other day is a little excessive? maybe you're just in love with him. smut warnings — descriptions of female anatomy, lots and lots of kissing, some dacryphilia, multiple orgasms, begging, creampie warnings — vernon is called hansol - i don't usually do that but just go with it; vernon is kind of a sweetheart tbh this ended up being pretty soft notes — june is back !! i've really been struggling to write these past few months so i'm actually super proud that i was able to sit down and write this as fast as i did. i can't promise another fic anytime soon or any kind of consistent uploads, but i hope you enjoy this meager offering! thanks for the support even while i've been gone :) also this is based on a dream i had about vernon the other day and i could not stop thinking about it it was driving me crazy, so everyone say thank you to my brain or the sandman or whoever put that idea in my dreams because this fic is a result of it. if there are mistakes pls ignore i wrote this at 2am

the thing you remember most about hansol is his lips.

the first time you kissed him was like opening a door to a world you'd never known existed. your past hookups had been terrible kissers, or even worse—hadn't even tried to kiss you at all. you were sick of the boring, underwhelming sex with men who couldn't care less if you got off or not. but some god or being in the universe must've been looking out for you, because finding hansol was nothing short of a miracle.

it was so good, you weren't even that embarrassed when you'd desperately texted him a couple of nights later, practically begging him to come over and fuck you again. he was burned into your brain, the feeling of his mouth locked with yours seared so deep in your memory you couldn't erase him if you tried, but it wasn't exactly like you wanted to. 

he hadn't explicitly said you would only be a one night stand, but you usually didn't hang around the same guy for too long, and he didn't really seem like the commitment type anyway. but when you find something this good, you don't let it go, and somehow you both knew that whatever this was, it was too good to pass up on.

so it wasn't really a surprise when you found yourself on his couch, straddling his lap in the late hours of the night for the third time this week. 

like you remembered, his lips were warm and soft, his cheek brushing against yours as you melted into him. you could kiss him for hours and not notice the time passing at all, so focused on the rhythm of his mouth working you up more than anything you'd done with any man you'd slept with before.

the heat of his hands resting on your hips sends shivers up and down your spine, unconsciously arching towards him as his tongue pushes into your mouth.

one gentle hand travels carefully up beneath your shirt, tracing the skin of your stomach before stopping at your breast, your heartbeat racing beneath his palm.

your breath is hot on his cheek as you readjust your position, slipping your knees onto either side of his hips and sinking down to straddle his lap. your clothed cunt throbs as he presses his bulge against the inside of your thigh, and you don't hold back the open-mouthed moan that escapes you as his other hand quickly reaches up to angle your jaw and guide your lips back to his.

you push your hips down a little harder on him and his nails dig into your breast. his grip tightens a little as his hips cant up against you, desperate for more pressure against his strained cock.

your eyelids flutter as his other hand tilts your chin upwards, finally breaking away from your mouth only to reattach his lips at the base of your jaw. his tongue laves over your skin before he starts to suck, and you shiver when he pulls back and cold air hits the wet patch of spit on your neck.

you have to focus hard not to drool when you open your eyes and catch a glimpse of his face, lust-glazed eyes staring up at you through his long, thick lashes, his intense gaze fixed on you.

if you ever get past this weird in-between stage of talking but not talking, maybe you'll tell him how jealous you are of his beautiful, natural eyelashes. if you ever actually get to have a conversation with him outside of calling to hook up, maybe you'll tell him how nice his lips are. you'll tell him how soft his hands are and how he's by far the best person you've ever slept with, leaps and bounds better than all the rest, and—

before you fully realize what's happening, you feel your shirt being pulled over your head and hansol's lips have made their way down to your chest. without a sound his hands roam your body, fingers drawing invisible lines over your bare skin and leaving trails of goosebumps with every touch.

he doesn't talk much during sex, or maybe you just don't know each other well enough yet for him to have much to say. aside from the way he occasionally murmurs about how perfect you are — an oddly intimate thing to say to someone who's just a friend with benefits, but coming from him it sounds so casual — the only words you ever get out of him are curses and whimpered pleas.

the only words he ever gets out of you are shamelessly begging him, please kiss me again, please, hansol; and you're always too far gone to care about how whiny you sound, because you need his lips on you so fucking bad you think you might just die without them. but he always obliges, quickening the speed of his thrusts and wrapping his arms around you tighter so he can kiss you deeper, until your lips are numb and you can still feel the weight of him holding you even hours after he's gone.

so maybe you do have a teeny tiny crush on hansol. anyone in their right mind would, and when he's finished with you tonight you're sure you won't have much mind left to even think about it. certainly this is a problem for another day, a day when you'll inevitably call him again so he can make you lose your mind all over again and you won't have to think about how much you like him, and you'll continue like that for who knows how long. 

maybe he'll get bored of you, or find someone else, or move to another city too far for you to justify travelling for a relationship that isn't even a relationship…

… but then he lets out a little groan and you fall back into reality, the reality where you've been making out with him for the past half hour and he quietly but confidently lets you know if he doesn't get his dick out soon he's definitely going to cum in his pants and not only will it make him look like a loser but he also won't get to fuck you, which is the whole reason you asked him to meet up tonight, right?

well, yeah, you guess, but a part of you knows there's more to it than that. but that's not really a conversation for right now.

you lean down to press another chaste kiss against those lips that you can't stop thinking about, and your fingers pull his t-shirt over his head before finding their way down to the button at the top of his jeans.

you've had his cock inside you more times than you think you deserve, but still your stomach bubbles with excitement as he lifts his hips and shimmies out of his pants, the outline against his briefs more than enough to make your mouth water before he slips those off, too.

for tonight, you're the recipient of his undivided attention. you alone get to have him and his perfect cock all to yourself; maybe not forever, but for right now, and that's all you really need.

he presses his hand against his bulge, eyes squeezed shut in pleasure as you stand up from his lap to kick off your pants and underwear.

you must have been taking too long for his liking, though, because as soon as you're fully nude his hands tug impatiently at your waist and pull you back down onto him. 

he lets out a heavy sigh, the head of his cock pressed deliciously against your clit as you start to rock your hips back and forth.

but before long his hands bring you to a stop and he lets out his usual string of pleas to let him fuck you, and now it's your turn to sigh in relief as he pushes into you, the stretch so natural like he was the only one who was made to sit you on his lap.

he doesn't move right away. he never moves right away, whether to give you a chance to adjust or maybe because he himself can't handle the feeling. either way, you always struggle to take in a shaky breath as your walls flutter around him, perfectly thick and long that you could probably cum untouched like this if you sat there for long enough.

but as badly as you want to never move and let him cockwarm you for hours, he always eventually moves. 

he starts out slow, just a few inches at a time, a gentle in and out that's almost romantic until you feel like you can breathe normally again— right before he knocks the breath out of you, increasing his pace until the room is filled with the loud sounds of skin against skin.

he always fucks you like it's been months since he's came, even though you know for a fact it was last thursday and all over your stomach. all you can do now is hang onto his broad shoulders for dear life, nails scratching helplessly at his muscles as he carries you up and over the edge, pushing you into the first of many orgasms tonight.

sometimes he'll make a comment about how wet you get when he fucks you like this, rough and fast as he pounds into you like there's no tomorrow. and that's when you'll agree, yes you love it so much, yes he's so good, yes you need more and please, please keep going.

if it were anyone else they'd probably smirk at that, satisfied with the momentary boost to their ego. but that's what you love about hansol, is that he's not anyone else: he'll take those words and use them to somehow fuck you even rougher and even faster, so rough and so fast that sometimes tears will start to roll down your cheeks, and that's usually about when you start begging him to kiss you.

you can't help it. the way he bounces you so effortlessly on his cock, his lips parted and beads of sweat trickling down his neck, you need him bad. you want to be closer to him, closer than you know is physically possible but damn if you won't try anyway.

throwing your hands around his neck and falling against his chest, tears still streaming from your eyes as you plead with him, repeating his name over and over and over like you've lost your mind and he's the only thing left. in all honesty, maybe he is.

he quietly shushes you and tilts his chin up to capture your lips in the kiss you so badly crave, and it's everything you need and more and somehow still not enough but you can't think straight anymore when his cock is hitting you just right and his mouth is also just right and each vein, each curve, each ridge, drags perfectly along your walls and he's splitting you open and goddamn you are ruined for anybody else.

you feel like you're skirting in and out of consciousness when you cum again, squeezing around his cock so tight that even his powerful thrusts can't continue at their current pace.

it isn't long before he lets go too, holding you flush against his body as he fills you up, painting your insides white with a breathy moan, and in a weird way it makes you feel kind of proud.

you both sit there for a moment, panting as you start to come down.

without even standing up you already know your legs are jell-o, but you don't really have time to think about that as hansol lifts you off his lap and sets you carefully on the couch, leaving you with another kiss before he stands up and disappears down the hall, returning seconds later with a towel that looks suspiciously new.

you'd asked him about his bathroom towels last time you'd been over at his place. a mismatched collection of white and brown and aquamarine that he'd taken with him when he'd moved out of his parent's house, he said, he'd never really had a reason to buy a set of his own. 

the grey cloth in his hand now that he uses to gently wipe between your legs is one you don't remember seeing.

he finishes and you want him to kiss you again, but you're too shy to ask now so he leaves you again with just a kind smile this time.

you've put most of your wrinkled clothes back on by the time he comes back. he offers to drive you home every time afterwards, but you always insisted you were fine, already feeling like you'd overstayed your welcome.

this time he doesn't offer, though, just quietly sits down next to you to pull on his own clothes until you're both fully dressed.

he speaks before the awkward silence has time to set in.

"have you been seeing anybody else?" he asks, and it's probably the longest sentence he's spoken to you outside of when he's fucking you.

it takes you a couple seconds to say no. god, you sound like a loser, but you couldn't lie to him. since the very first time with hansol the thought of seeing anyone besides him hadn't even crossed your mind. just like you thought; ruined.

it takes him a couple seconds to reply, too. 

"good," he says, and you could almost swear his cheeks are pinker than usual as he admits that he hasn't been with anyone, either. "could we keep it that way?"

your breath catches a little. "yeah?"

"yeah," he answers. "whatever… this is, i like it. and i like you."

and just like that, things make sense. 

"maybe, would you, y'know, wanna stay this time?" he asks, and you can't hide the grin on your face as you lean over and kiss him again, your answer evident in the way your hand falls against his warm chest and your fingers weave gently through his hair.

everything is so simple with hansol.

i hope you enjoyed this!! if you did, consider reblogging or leaving a comment or an ask :) it shows me this is something people want to see more of, and knowing people like this makes me want to write more of it! thanks for reading!!

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[ldrfanatic]

promise.

theodore nott x fem!reader

synopsis - as you quite literally stumble upon the enigmatic persona of theodore nott, you unintentionally become entangled in the intrigue surrounding him

warnings - mentions of death, domestic violence, cursing, and alcohol consumption

considering a part two to this... I have a few cute ideas in mind.

the next part of thirteen is coming soon I'm like halfway through but in the meantime, here's this.

works slytherin boys

Theodore Nott absolutely hated human interaction. He didn't want to be looked at or spoken too. And he most certainly did not want to be touched. In stark contrast to his best friend Mattheo's loud and boisterous personality, Theodore Nott was quiet. Reserved. He rarely ever spoke to anyone outside of his friend group, and even then he'd been known to simply pretend the rest of the world didn't exist on a whim. Yes, Theodore Nott hated people.

Theo was yanked from his thoughts as a figure slammed into him.

"I'm so sorry!" You exclaimed. The books and parchment in your arms had gone flying as you collided with someone else in the halls. When you were met with silence, you looked up and suddenly, Theo lost his train of thought. You'd ran into Theodore. The slytherin boy looked at you with a rather intense stare, but he didn't say anything.

He just stared.

Awkwardly.

Theodore stared at you as you rambled out apologies and phrase after phrase of complete nonsense. It was actually kind of cute. And it was the first time that someone had taken the time to talk to him properly since he'd been at hogwarts. Even teachers had given up on trying to engage him in conversation.

"There's a party tonight at Slytherin house. Be there." You stood gaping at Theo with your mouth slightly open. He figured you were fairly shocked at having heard him speak considering how scarcely he allowed words to fall from his lips.

Internally, Theodore grimaced at his own words. Years and years of barely speaking to anyone had obviously done nothing for his social skills. He racked his brain as he tried to recall his time in primary school so as to remember how to properly communicate.

"I mean, you can come. I-If you'd like that is." Once again Theo cringed as he tripped over his own tongue. It felt unnatural to stutter. He'd never stammered over his words like that. But there was something about that unhinged his soul. He hadn't quite figured out if he enjoyed it or not but this party was the perfect excuse to get closer to you while he studied the affects you have on him.

"I'll be there." You offered him a smile that made his heartbreat thrum in his ears.

“Promise?”

The word tumbled out of him before he could stop himself. He watched as your brows furrowed curiously. After all, it was quite an odd thing to make someone promise. But you didn’t question it.

“I promise.”

Your words meant everything to him. Theo closed his eyes in a manic attempt to calm his thoughts, and when he opened them, you were gone. Odd. Perhaps he'd imagined the whole thing.

Or perhaps not.

In fact, as he looked at over by the snack table casually conversing with Pansy Parkinson, Theo was certain he hadn't imagined the interaction. Even more so when you turned and smiled at him apparently feeling his gaze on you.

He watched as Pansy muttered something to you that had you looking curiously over at him. You pointed at him and cocked your head slightly sideways (an adorable action that made Theo's heart beat too fast). Just as quickly as you'd done it, you shrugged at Pansy and took a sip of the juice in your hand.

For the second time that day, Theodore was jarred from his thoughts.

Mattheo's hand knocked onto Theo's shoulder.

"Hello? Anyone home?"

When Theo turned to look at the boy, he wasn't surprised to see that he was intoxicated. Mattheo often found solace in drugs and alcohol, something Theo didn't quite understand. No. He preferred to be calm and in control.

Mattheo carried on, not expecting Theo to respond.

"So who's the girl?"

Theo flashed Mattheo a feigned confused look that he knew Mattheo saw right through.

"Oh don't give me that bullshit. You know the girl that you're staring holes into?"

When his friend continued to ignore him, Mattheo pulled back so he was standing up mostly straight and set his beer down on the table in front of the couch with a rather loud thunk.

"Fine. If you have no interest in her then surely you won't mind if I make her my next conquest. She is quite pretty."

Mattheo didn't make it two steps before Theodore was harshly shoving him aside until his bum found the couch. "Stay away."

The dark haired boy smirked up at him. It was pretty clear that Theo had some sort of feelings for you well beyond what he normally thought of pretty much anyone else.

In their own little world, the two hadn't noticed you and Pansy approaching them. Pansy looked on with a knowing look as you flocked to Theo worriedly.

"Are you alright Theodore?"

When Theo turned to look at you, he felt his rage dissipate. He also fell silent again. For the first time in his life, Theo was unable to speak not because he didn't want to, but because he just didn't know what to say. He fished for sentences in his brain or words of any kind really and yet he came up empty.

Afraid that he'd make a fool of himself again, Theo turned swiftly on his heel and removed himself from the situation.

As you watched Theo leave, you found yourself wildly confused. What the fuck just happened? Sure, Theo was known for just getting up and leaving conversations. But he'd stood there looking at you and even opened his mouth like he was going to say something. Then he just left.

"No hard feelings, Y/n. Theo doesn't like people."

You tried to force yourself to believe Pansy's words. Theo was fine, he just didn't like people. Everyone knew that. But the look that Mattheo exchanged with Theo before he left itched at you in a way that made you feel as though there was something deeper going on there that you weren't privy to.

It turns out, Theo's behavior bothered you enough for you to break one of your cardinal rules: never involve yourself with Mattheo Riddle & Co. You'd had this ingrained in your mind since you started hogwarts. There were only ever two exceptions. One, for Pansy Parkinson who it turned out really spent more time with the Greengrass sisters than Mattheo and his posse. And two, for Theodore Nott whom you'd had a schoolgirl crush on since third year. He was simply too handsome to ignore. And though you'd never really had more than exactly one ten second conversation with him right after you'd damn near toppled him over, you felt concern for him after the incident in the Slytherin party the other night.

Hence why you were standing in front of a grinning Mattheo Riddle at breakfast one morning.

"Where's Theodore?"

Mattheo sucked a breath in through his teeth and looked at you with mischievous eyes.

"Sorry darling. Can't betray one of my best mates, can I?"

"I'm worried about him."

"Then go find him."

You rolled your eyes. You should've known conversing with the likes of Riddle was going to be a waste of your time.

"If I knew where to find him, do you really think I'd be slumming it with you right now? I just want to check on him."

Mattheo looked up at you from his seat with false offense.

"Slumming it? I will have you know that my company is desired by many. And if you're really that desperate to find him, what do you say you and I go get ourselves a broom closet? I'm sure he'd be more than willing to crash our party."

Your eyebrows furrowed as the hidden meaning of Mattheo's words flew clear over your head.

"As if. Enough of your games, Riddle. Draco!"

The platinum haired boy jumped when you barked out his name. He squeaked out a 'yes' in return. You really could be quite intimidating when you wanted to be.

"Where the hell is Theodore?"

"Last I saw him he was out in the gardens."

You swung your bag over your shoulder, watching on in amusement while Mattheo delivered a rapid thump to the back of Draco's head. The boys began to squabble, but you didn't stay to watch, instead taking off towards the gardens.

When you got there, Theo was pacing back in forth in front of the Gardenias. The sound of your approaching footsteps startled him and he whipped around to see who'd followed him out here. As his eyes fell on your figure, he noticeably relaxed.

"Theodore, are you alright?" You repeated your words from last night. Theo's chest heaved as he took a rather deep breath.

"Gardenias were her favorite flower."

You stared on in confusion before it hit you. "Your mother."

You remembered hearing your parents talk about the death of Isabella Nott when you were around 8 or 9 years old. Cantankerous Nott was a prominent figure in the Ministry of Magic, so the death of his wife spread like wildfire amongst the wizarding world.

"When I want to talk to her, I come out here. Being near Gardenias makes me feel... closer to her. I know it's silly."

"It's not silly Theo." This was the most that anyone had ever heard Theo speak. There was no way you were going to let him recluse out of unnecessary embarrassment.

"When I was a boy, my father used to hit my mother. I- I couldn't understand why. She was kind, loving, beautiful. Everything a foul man like him could've hoped for. It frustrated me that I couldn't do anything to help her."

He took a deep breath and tears welled up in his eyes. His gaze had found it's way back to the Gardenias and he focused on them as he continued.

"Then one day, I came home from primary school and they were fighting. My father was the angriest I'd ever seen him. My mother told me to go upstairs to my room. But I didn’t want to leave her so I hid behind the stairs, peeking through the bars. I was worried for her. Then as I watched, my father beat my mother to death. It's why I can see the Thestrals. It's... also why I don't speak. I prefer to be in my mind, where I can be with my memories of her."

Though you couldn't exactly relate to Theodore, your heart ached for him. To have watched his mother die at such a young age, and at the hands of his own father in such a brutal way. It's understandable the impact that it had on him.

“That’s understandable.”

Theo turned to face you, face flushed and chest heaving as though he’d just run a mile.

“It’s more than that though. If you stay away from people, you can’t get attached. If you don’t get attached…”

He trailed off but you could piece together what he was getting at fairly easily.

“You don’t have to worry about getting hurt.”

Theo nodded, chestnut curls blowing gently as a breeze passed through. Your hand made itself busy toying with the leaves of a nearby bush. The deep tones of Theo’s voice echoed as he spoke again.

“It’s different with you. I tried like hell not to get attached. But I can’t help it but want to be close to you. Because you’re so kind. Because you don’t push me to speak, instead you fill the silence with your own beautiful voice. Because for the first time since her death, being present, with you, brings me more happiness than being in my memories with her.”

Theo motioned frantically with his hands as he spoke. It was odd to see a boy usually so stoic be overcome with emotions in this way. When he turned to face the Gardenia bushes again, you came to stand beside him. With gentle hands, you ran your fingers over the white petals of the Gardenias.

“You know I remember reading something once in a muggle book about flowers. Muggles are so silly, aren’t they?”

When Theo turned to you with a questioning look, you took that as your cue to continue.

“They see things they don’t understand. They label them as ‘miracles’ and then come up with these ridiculous folktales and stories just so they don’t have to face the discomfort of not knowing. It must be maddening to them, not knowing.

“Not knowing about where they came from. Or what comes after when they… pass. So instead they label everything, instead of marveling in the beauty and the realness of simply not knowing.”

The boy at your side had completely torn his attention from the ivory flowers and fixed his gaze on you. His eyes seemed to hold and unspoken question, are you going anywhere with this?

“They have a belief about Gardenias. Ancient tales speak of gods and goddesses who transformed Gardenias into sacred tokens, giving them magical properties, which I found to be most intriguing considering that nowadays the majority of muggles don’t believe in magic at all.

“One thing I did find particularly interesting. The muggles believe that Gardenias signify an untold love. They are also given to convey “you're lovely”. Because of this, the gardenia is a flower that they give to lovers, friends, and even family. It's a way of telling them how lovely they are.”

You grasped his hand in his.

“Theo I think remembering your mother through Gardenias is a lovely way to do so. I think she would’ve liked that. And I believe that whatever happens to us when we die, your mother uses all of her strength to tell you through every Gardenia on Earth how much she loves you.”

With your kind words, the dam that seemed to be holding in Theo’s emotions for the last 7 years, shattered. Hits tears streamed down his face and he all but launched himself into your arms. He cried, sobbed actually, and clutched your figure closely to his.

When he finally calmed, his rough hand made its way back into yours. He sniffled softly for a few minutes and the pair of you watched the Gardenias together for a little while.

Finally, after he’d regained control, Theo plucked a Gardenia from the bushes and brought out his wand. He muttered a few spells softly which you recognized as preservation spells. Then, to your surprise, he held the flower out to you with two simple words.

“You’re lovely.”

“Promise?”

You teased him lightly, returning the words he’d spoken to you yesterday afternoon.

Theo fought his own grin at the way your lips turned up. He did have a reputation to uphold and he couldn’t very well do that if he was caught grinning at you.

“Promise.”

Oh to hell with Theodore Nott’s bloody reputation. In the week following your stolen moments in the garden, you and Theodore Nott began courting. When the rest of Hogwarts got wind after a Hufflepuff saw him kiss you outside of the Herbology greenhouse, the student body descended into chaos.

Still, the chatters died down within the day following. In fact, most of your fellow students seemed to think that the whisperings surrounding a relationship between yourself and Theo were simply rumors.

‘She spends a lot of time with the Slytherins.’ One student whispered in the back of Potions.

‘So? She’s friends with Pansy Parkinson, isn’t that her lot as well.’ Another student whispered back.

And since neither you nor Theodore were particularly large gossips, not one of the pair of you said anything to confirm or deny the rumors. Which only fueled more into the leading theory, that the Hufflepuff who saw you kiss was simply imagining it.

Of course, you, Theodore, and the rest of Mattheo & Co. knew differently but that didn’t really bother either of you.

So Theodore continued his life in peace. Knowing that he had the most beautiful girl in the castle in his arms every night, and his reputation for being the most emotionless son a bitch in Hogwarts was still in tact. Theodore Nott had found happiness for once.

Or he was happy.

That is until he saw that bloody Ravenclaw Anthony Goldstein chatting you up by the juice at the evening’s Slytherin House Party.

All week Theo had successfully maintained his carefree and cold hearted front. Yet watching the stupid blonde chat you up while you constantly waved him away made his blood boil. It was more than simple jealousy. It was disrespectful enough to dally around with another man’s girl. But to continue to harass the poor girl when she’d clearly asked you to leave was just in poor character. And for Goldstein to think he could get away with pursuing Theodore’s girl at all was ridiculous and frankly insulting.

So, employing a trick as old as time itself, Theodore stood from his seat next to Draco and just walked away. Whatever the platinum blonde was saying to him was cut off. He looked around at the others around him, motioning to Theo’s retreating figure.

“What are gonna do with him?”

But Theo ignored him. If he didn’t want to entertain Draco’s nonsense any longer, it was his given right to walk away. He had legs, after all.

Legs which were currently making short time towards where his beautiful girlfriend stood in a black cocktail dress. As soon as he was in arms reach, Theo pulled her soft figure into his own, closer and closer until he could smell the perfume on her. It was like having his own little Amortentia when he was around you. As usual, the feeling of your soft skin against his was calming.

It should have been calming.

It would have been calming.

If that idiot blonde hadn’t rudely interrupted Theodore’s plan to remove his personal heaven from the situation by walking the pair of you away from fucking Anthony Goldstein.

“Wait! I was trying to give her an invitation for the party Ravenclaw is having next week.”

Theo stopped and turned, desperately trying to reel in his anger for your sake.

“Sorry she has awful memory.”

The edges of Theo’s mouth ticked up slightly as a giggle broke from your lips behind him. He fought the urge to smile at the sound of your laughter.

“That’s alright I can just tell you, mate.”

This kid was either absolutely stupid or had a death wish. Clearly, you weren’t interested. Clearly, you were already well taken care of.

“No need, mate.” Theo spit out the word in a tone drastically unlike the cheerful one that Goldstein had used. They most certainly were not mates.

“Oh come on, Nott. It can’t hurt.”

Finally Theo’s resolve snapped. He released your hand from his own, faintly aware of your hand grasping the back of his shirt as he stepped closer to the boy in front of him.

“Might hurt.” The words concealed a thinly veiled threat. One that Anthony Goldstein apparently picked up on.

His face blanched and his features twisted. He returned the Slytherins glare with a less effective one of his own.

“Is that a threat?”

“It’s a promise.”

A beat of tense silence passed between the pair, interrupted by you.

“Oh—kay. Let’s all calm down. We’re all… acquaintances?”

Even calling the two boys acquaintances was a major stretch. But before Theo could satisfy the growing need to slam his fist into Anthony’s face repeatedly, the Ravenclaw scoffed out a ‘whatever’ and stalked away.

“Theo…”

Your soft lips dragged out the syllables of Theo’s name but he was still feeling the after effects of his jealousy. He couldn’t believe that stupid fucker had the nerve to challenge him for a girl that was already his. No more of that.

Theo gently took your small wrist in his hand. He led you to the top of the stone stairs that let to the Slytherin Dorms. As you passed, heads turned. And by the time you made it to the top of the grand staircase, every pair of eyes in the party had focused on the two of you.

And in front of all of them, Theo kissed you. Fiercely.

The party was silenced in shock. Even the music had stopped. A few students whispered between themselves. Theo’s friends were exchanging grins and knowing looks.

Theo finally felt at peace as he leaned his forehead against yours.

“You’re my girlfriend.”

“Promise.”

---

wc 3.4k

04.21.24

theodore taglist

@moonlightreader649 @svt-dk97 @thatdammchickennugget @helendeath @fandom-life-12 @bouquetolegoflowers @maryvibess

[talaok]

Okay so I’m thinking Pedro x Actress!reader where another famous guy/actor says in an interview that he has a crush on us which makes Pedro a bit jealous and then we all end up at the same event - maybe Pedro gets abit angsty with him but he’s super loving and affectionate toward us…

warnings: jelousy

a/n: it goes without saying that i apologize for the wait babe, i really loved this request 

It wasn't that he hated him, it was just that if anything were to happen to him he wouldn't be the one to cry, that's all...

and maybe he'd thought about punching that smug look off his face once... or twice... or every time the thought of him came up.

But it still wasn't hate

Hate is a strong word, and Pedro wasn't not one to throw it around easily, he was all for peace and love and everything but this guy... this guy was really pushing the limits

And what the actual fuck was he even doing here tonight?

"You're staring"

Your soft, amused voice pulled him out of his own thoughts, his eyes sliding to you

"I just don't get why he's here"

You stifled a laugh as you answered "The same reason why we are baby"

"he's not even nominated" he grumbled,

"neither am I" You smiled, placing your hand on his cheek, feeling his soft scruff graze your palm "It's not a big deal babe, he probably said my name just because it was the first one that popped into his mind" you shook your head "I bet it's not even true"

Yeah right

He would have believed that if you were anybody else, but you... fuck- it didn't take him even a second to fall in love and you expected him to believe that that guy didn't have a crush on you? He would have sooner begun believing that Mark Zuckerberg was one of those lizard guys.

You were everything anyone could have ever dreamed of, you were funny, so incredibly smart it made him feel like a fifth grader in comparison, and god you were the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen 

he knew what you did to men, he knew what you did to men because that's exactly what you did to him,

and he didn't even mind that much, he'd never been the jealous type, but the problem with Shawn wasn't that he liked you (because he clearly did), but it was that he had the audacity, the smugness to fucking say it out loud, to admit it in front of a camera for anyone to see, like the woman he was talking about didn't have a husband, like he wasn't her fucking husband.

"I saw him look at you before"

This time, you did let out a little snort

"what, how dares he?" you mocked him, laughing again as his face remained completely unamused "It's your big night babe, don't let this silly little thing ruin it, please"

But just then, just when he was finally starting to let go a little, the focus of all of his loathing appeared beside you

"I'm sorry to interrupt-"

Then fucking don't

"I just wanted to introduce myself" 

Shawn's eyes were only on you, as if he didn't even exist, as if your hands hadn't been on his cheeks but a moment prior

"I'm Shawn," he said, offering his hand to you "I'm... well, I'm a really big fan" he ended with a soft laugh, smiling in that charming way that surely made women all woozy

"Hi Shawn, it's a pleasure to meet you-"

As you shook his hand, Pedro was closing his into fists

This fucking guy-

"Hi pal"

Pedro's voice didn't sound even a little bit not completely pissed off

"I'm Pedro," he said "her husband"

The flicker of amusement that sparked behind his eyes made Pedro seriously ponder whether or not a little punch was that bad of an idea

"Oh, I didn't know you were married"

Andrew's eyes were back to you, and god it was taking all of Pedro not to grab him and throw him to the other side of the room

Just the fact that he was looking your way seemed too much, 

How dare he look at you, at his beautiful wife, at the love of his life?

It felt wrong, it was wrong, and it was making him furious

"I'm sure you didn't" Pedro grunted, taking a slow step closer to him "Shawn right?" he asked, even though he knew much too well who he was "What exactly are you doing here?" Pedro's eyes narrowed, his head tilting "I didn't notice your name in any of the nominations"

"baby" your soft warning was met with a soft smile from him, one that faded into a stoic/murderous gaze as soon as your husband's eyes were back on the man before him

"I'm just asking a question sweetheart, that's all"

Shawn seemed to accept Pedro's challenge in the blink of an eye

"I'm here with a friend, he's the one that got the nom"

Pedro nodded slowly, "ah. Right," he said, his hand going to your back and drawing gentle circles on it

He didn't miss the way Shawn followed the movement

"And why exactly are you talking to my wife Shawn?"

Now that, that seemed to take him aback a little, but he recovered quickly

"What?" he laughed "is no one allowed to talk to your wife without your permission or something?"

"Oh absolutely not, my wife can talk to whomever she wishes," Pedro spoke "I'm just not very fond of her talking to men that have openly admitted to liking her" he shrugged as if his eyes and voice weren't yelling murder 

You, in the meantime, were busy looking for the fastest way out of this place

"You've seen the video," Shawn said more like a statement

"I sure did" Your husband nodded "I especially liked the part where you described her as your "dream woman""

Shawn sighed loudly, shaking his head

"listen, man-"

"No, you listen, man" Pedro interrupted him "How 'bout you get the fuck away from me and my wife, mh?" he said more like a threat "How bout that?"

Shawn let out a loud breath before responding

"whatever man" he sighed, his eyes moving to you "It was nice to meet you y/n, maybe we can meet another time..." he glanced to the man on your right "when the guard dog isn't around"

"yeah" Pedro scoffed "Go fuck yourself, buddy"

You both stared at his back as he walked away, but after no more than two seconds, you couldn't help but let your lips pull into the smile you'd been holding this whole time

"that was a bit harsh"

Pedro only grinned as he brought you flash against him with his hands on your waist

"Like you haven't done worse" he smirked

Yeah... while Pedro wasn't usually jealous, you were... let's just say you were not exactly on the same wavelength

"you looked ready to kill him" you chuckled, wrapping your arms behind his neck

"mh" he hummed, ghosting your mouth "Who says I wasn't" he teased, his lips crashing with yours in a long, deep kiss that Pedro absolutely didn't wish for Shawn to be witnessing

[flamingpudding]

Ouija Board Prompt Idea

A/N: A late night Idea that came to me instead of sleep and I wrote this down during lunch break

Danny was just in Gotham because the city spirit had asked him for assistance with a rather persistent unruly Ghost that didn't understand that this was her haunt and she did not want them there.

So when he got the notice he did his kingly duties and made sure the Ghost was no longer annoying Lady Gotham. He was the Ghost King but even he didn't want to anger a spirit as old as her. He had watched the spirit take a ghostly club and hit Clockwork the Ancient of Time with it without remorse the first time they were introduced. So yea, no messing with this one.

He had been about to portal back home when he felt a strange pull one that was close to when he got summoned but yet it didn't feel as demanding but more like a little kid pulling on his shirt hesitantly. So he checked it out…

… and came across a group of vigilantes investigating an occult side.

Invisible he watched them, curious. He used to do the teen hero stick too before the whole Ghost King business allowing him to get some semblance of a normal life with his rogues, might as well see how others to that hero stick. Besides the pull he felt appeared to come from that tall one wearing a red helmet something was up with that guy.

"Come on, ask the ghosts a question or are you too chicken to do it?"

"I will not participate in this nonsense, Red Hood."

"Come on guys it will be fun!"

"For whom? You, Spoiler?"

"RR aren't you curious?"

"We just gotta ask the board a question and if a ghost is around they will answer by moving it, right?"

"Ghosts don't exist."

Okay Danny was not taking personal offense here but he was a half ghost and he ruled the Ghost Zone filled with ecto-entities that could count as ghosts. So yes, ghosts existed. It was a simple decision then as he floated down invisible crouching next to board still invisible and out of the way from them.

Making sure he made a lot of scraping noises as he moved the small wooden piece on the board to 'YES'.

Someone yelped and someone else shrieked, though Danny wasn't sure if that was a shriek of excitement or not. He still grinned at their reactions.

"Did that just move to 'YES'! It did, didn't it!"

Yea okay that earlier was a shriek of excitement considering how that girl in purple was jumping around. Though the poor kid among them looked a little paler now, Danny decided to keep an eye on the kid to make sure he wasn't overdoing it.

"Okay so a ghost is here?"

Maybe he should have bothered listening to Lady Gotham or Tucker more about the vigilantes of Gotham. Oh well no time better as this to learn. What did the girl call this boy again, RR? Danny wondered what that stood for.

He moved the piece around the board a little making sure they noticed before he spelled something out.

"N-O-S-H-I-T-S-H-E-R-L-O-C-K. No shit Sherlock. Ha! I like this ghost!" The tall one laughed, he believed the kid called him Red Hood earlier. Well the red helmet was a great testament to that sort of code name. Still he wondered about that weird feeling he got from the guy but pushed that aside for later.

"Well since there is a ghosts, what should we ask?"

"Maybe how old he is?"

"Think it rude to ask how he died?"

Danny rolled his eyes. Those were such mainstream questions.

"B-O-R-I-N-G, 1-6 , YES. Guys it looks like we are not were imaginativ."

"Well what do you suggest we ask then?"

"I don't know! Maybe he can show us a cool trick?"

"You know that reminds me of this game that's been out for a while, phasmophobia or something like that?"

Oh Danny knew this one! Tucker had told him about the game, he himself hadn't played it but he had watched his best friend do so, they had a lot of fun joking about how the ghosts were portrayed and the tools that were available to the players.

"So what? We ask the ghost to play Hide and Seek with us?"

"Let's cease this nonsense. This is not something we should mess with."

"Oh are you scared?"

He made a show of moving the wooden piece, doing his best not to snicker out loud as he moved the piece to count down from the number 9. Letting his own powers out a little to cause the already dim light to flicker and the room to cool down several degrees.

The reaction was instant once again. Though he didn't expect them to run for hiding spaces he definitely did not expect these people to pull out their weapons and position against each other's back like they were ready for a fight. Then again they were vigilantes

The poor kid among them looked even paler. Before his count down could reach 0 he decided to not scare the poor kid more. Pulling back his powers the room's temperature normalized and the lights stopped flickering. He moved the wooden piece knowing that at least one of them was watching it in anticipation.

"J-K-S-O-R-R-Y"

"I think the ghost just apologized to us?" The RR teenager said carefully and Danny couldn't help the sheepish smile even if they couldn't see it in his invisible state.

"You know about the game?"

He moved the piece to YES.

"So you thought it was fucking appropriated to scare us like that?"

He moved the piece around and placed it back to YES before spelling out sorry again. The vigilantes shared a look and Danny decided to spell out a question.

"L-I-T-T-L-E-G-U-Y-O-K-A-Y"

"Huh? Uh yea Robin is fine." They looked confused but Danny kept his eyes on the kid. Well the poor boy still looked very pale but he also appeared to try to put on a brave front, it nearly caused a chuckle to escape the halfa.

"Can you show yourself?"

"S-U-R-E"

Not like he was really going to show himself but this was going to be fun, he thanked the Ancients that he was taking lessons with Pandora on how to manipulate his own ectoplasm. He summoned a blob of it making sure he himself was still invisible as he let the green blob be visible, forming it and making it look like a blob ghost.

The reaction was once again instant. They yelled in the chaos all he caught sounded like 'Lazarus water! Moving Lazarus Water!' Before the pale kid, Robin they said, slashed at his ectoplasm blob with his katana, essentially doing nothing to the blob of ectoplasm. The sword just went through it and Danny still holding it confused just instinctively let it reform the shape he gave it.

Danny blinked, okay now he was definitely not showing himself. "This is no a ghost but a Pit Demon!"

From the corner of the eye he saw Lady Gotham appear in the room staring at him disapprovingly and holding that ghost club she had used on Clockwork.

"I can explain, really! I was just joking with them!" He stood holding his hands up to smooth the situation, the green blob fell to the ground splashing against the Ouija Board with a loud splat. His chances of not get hit like Clockwork by Lady Gotham were becoming slimmer.

"WHO SAID THAT?!"

Shit, he hadn't used ghost speech but said that out loud.

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP fanfic idea: In 30 minutes or less!

Danny is a delivery man.

He got the job after realizing his resume was severely lacking in terms of working experience.

Also when he needed more money for his own purchases. There is a big difference between begging his parents for an allowance and earning his own spending funds.

The thing is, no matter where Danny applied, he was not getting a call back. Jazz warned him that a majority of Amity Park didn't hire them - as she also attempted to get a part-time job when she was his age - because of the Fenton last name.

She swore and hissed, but she couldn't prove that it was the reason they weren't hired. She just heard the talk around the town. They all said they wouldn't want to hire from the lunatic family.

That whenever a Fenton went , something bad quickly followed.

It stung, that not even Nasty Burger wanted him. That placed hired people under sixteen for Pete's sake. But Danny was resourceful. If Amity Park hadn't hired him, then he would just try the other place he had civilianship in.

The Infinite Realms.

Danny figured that if societies existed with the Realms, then they had to have a form of currency. He just needed to find one that used the same one as his world did.

FrostBite was more than happy to point him in the right direction. Since his people were the ones to spend generations attempting to map out the Realms, he had found a part of the ghost zone that Danny could blend into easily.

It was only a thirty minute commute from Danny's family portal. He could easily make that after school.

Thus, Danny flew to the portal location FrostBite told him about and ended up in a place called Central City. He found employment very quickly at Joel's Pizza, and for sixteen dollars a hour he was racing across the city to give some sizzling pizza pies.

. He was given a company scooter, but Danny preferred to fly. No one saw him as he never turned off his invisibly until he arrived at the destination. He got great tips for his speed, and his boss was fun to work for.

His parents are proud that he has a job and is not causing trouble. His friends also have their own jobs so Sam and Tucker have to plan their meet ups now- buts that's just a part of growing up.

The only thing that made his part-time difficult was the ghosts. Not all of them bothered him now a days but a few still did.

Like Young Blood. The brat didn't seem to care that Danny was going to be late to a shift since he had no concept of the importance of adult responsibilities. He was able to text his boss an apology using school as an excuse, but he was still thirty minutes late and sporting a black eye.

Joel stared at him for a long moment, muttered something in Spanish, before handing him five pizza boxes, and told him to take it to the central city police department. Danny was supirse he didn't even lecture him.

When he got to the station, the person in front told him to wait a moment since it was the forensic department that ordered food. He waited a few minutes until a blond man came down the hall, with a cheerful smile.

That smile fell when Danny turned to look at him. There was a brief flash of something dark that crossed his expression before the smile was back ten fold

"Hello," Danny said, standing up. "Order for Barry?

"That's me!" The man grins, holding out a wad of cash "Keep the change."

Wow. A fifty dollar tip!

"Sure thanks!"

"Welcome kid!"

Danny practically skipped away, Barry Watching him climb onto his scooter and slowly blending back into the traffic.

He turned to look at Officer Dawn "Is it just me or was that kid covered in bruises?"

Officer Dawn's mustache twitches with displeasure. "He definitely was. Looked fresh, too. Not only that but he works for Joel Pizza"

"This Joel a trouble maker?"

"The opposite, he was a foster kid. Once he aged out and got his own business, he started hiring teenagers in similar situations. Usually, his staff are all kids who are having a rough time. If things are too bad, he makes reports, but we try to avoid it. Don't want to lose one of the few trustworthy safe spaces for those kids." Officer Dawn's hesitates for a second before he carefully asks."A cop poking around may spook them, but a forensic chemist won't. Do you mind finding out what the delivery kid's deal is for me?"

"I look into it." Barry promises already knowing the Flash is also going to be following the boy just to make sure he safe.

He hates it when kids get hurt. Remind him too much of Wally.