#they can’t show it in the show but I am personally convinced he has had an alcoholic beverage at least once

[puppiesareperfect]

I think it’s so funny that Perry the Platypus can drive a car. At what age is a platypus eligible for a driver’s license. Going off of that, is there a legal drinking age for platypuses/platypi? Is Perry of drinking age???

[pholla-jm]

My Wife is Real

IMAGINE: MY WIFE IS REAL~ GOJO X WIFE!READER GENRE: FLUFF cw: not proof read. use of y/n. use of she/her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Who do you think he’s texting?” Nobara whispers to her two classmates, Yuji and Megumi. 

Their teacher, Gojo Satoru, sat at his desk. Legs kicked up onto the desk while he was on his phone, giggling here and there. 

It was questionable if Gojo even knew that class had started. 

Megumi didn’t even bother to pay attention. He also sat on his phone, scrolling through social media. 

“I don’t know…” Yuji ponders. “Ugh, he has to be harassing a poor soul.” Yuji gasps at Nobara’s response, “no.” 

Nobara sits up in her seat, “Gojo-sensei,” she calls out. Gojo peeks up, “oh. I didn’t know you were here.” “Maybe if you stopped bothering people, you would notice.” 

Gojo places his hand on his chest and gasps dramatically. “I am not bothering anyone.” “Then who are you texting?” “My wife, duh.” 

Nobara bursts out laughing, “hahaha, yeah… yeah right.” She wheezes. Tears left the corner of her eyes as she tried to take him seriously, but she really couldn’t. 

Yuji just stares at him in confusion, “you’ve never told me about his wife. I don’t believe you.” 

Gojo gasps in shock and disbelief at his student’s words. “Huh?! I do too have a wife. That hurts my feelings that you don’t believe me!” 

Gojo’s full focus was on his students now. Trying to convince them that his wife is indeed real. “She’s literally the best person in the whole world, and the prettiest.” 

Nobara scoffs and rolls her eyes, “stop making things up Gojo-sensei. It’s getting sad at this point.” 

Gojo pouts at her words. He then grabs his phone, typing something in his phone. He puts his phone down with a triumphant smile on his face. “You’ll see.” 

“Yeah… we’ll see.” Nobara says to Megumi and Yuji. 

Megumi on the other hand was not paying attention to a single thing that was going on. He assumed something stupid was going on, so why even bother to pay attention? Yuji just has a thoughtful look on his face, trying to remember any mention of a wife. But there is no mention of one. 

“Yeah… I think you’re making this up… sorry Gojo-sensei.” “This is just getting sad…” Nobara whispers while shaking her head. 

“I can’t believe my student’s have little faith in me.” 

Only five minutes passed of slight bickering between until a knock was heard at the door. The bickering died down and all heads turned towards the door. 

Nobara’s and Yuji’s eyes widen seeing a woman at the door. 

“Who is that?” Yuji whispers to Nobara. She shrugs her shoulders, “has to be someone he hired.” 

Gojo jumps from his chair, a huge smile on his face. “Wifey!” 

He runs over to you, pulling you into a tight hold. 

You let out a strangled gasp from the impact. “Gojo,” you start, “this is the second time you forgot your lunch… and it’s only Tuesday.” 

Gojo pulls back, a faux pout on his lips, “I’m sorry.” You narrow your eyes at him, “I bet you’re just using this as an excuse to see me.” “Whoops, you caught me. Well, while you’re here. Let me introduce you to my students.” 

“Wait wait-” You didn’t get a chance to stop him because he dragged you into the front of the classroom. 

You eye the three students. Megumi had finally put down the phone, giving you an apologetic look. Nobara and Yuji were looking at you in shock. 

“Students, this is my wife, (y/n).” Gojo basically shows you off with a bright smile on his face. Hands in a jazz hand formation. You nervously smiled at the students. 

“Hello.” 

“Hello Gojo-san.” Megumi quietly said, but it was still loud enough for everyone to hear. You gave the boy a sweet smile, nodding at him. 

“What?! Do you know her?” Nobara and Yuji ask him. “Yes…” 

“Yes, they’ve known each other for quite awhile now…. Sorry guys. She’s a bit shy.” Gojo says while you continue to smile at them. 

“They didn’t believe Gojo-sensi had a wife..” Megumi tells you. 

You hum before turning to Gojo, “I see… I don’t blame them.” 

“Huh?! What is that supposed to mean?” You roll your eyes. “Ever so dramatic.” “...so mean.. How can my wife be so cruel?” 

“Ugh, no one cares,” Nobara sighs, “come sit down with us (y/n)-sensei. I have so much to ask you.” 

You just smile at the girl and move over to the desks. 

Gojo looks at you with a shocked look. Not believing that you were leaving his side. 

“What are you doing?” He asks you. You look back at him, “well, you wanted me to meet your students. So I’m getting to know them.” 

You give him a little smirk and Gojo knows that type of smirk. The one where he’s going to regret his actions later. 

Maybe not now, but he knows that this decision will come to bite him.

[checkeredflagggs]

Three Hearts Left

Pairing: max verstappen x fem!gamer!reader

summary: fans (and friends) are shocked when they find max is married and to who

a/n: I’m only a casual gamer so take it with a grain of salt

a/n 2: sorry it’s a really late - the weather hates me personally (it is actually September and doesn’t need to be 85* 😡) and it drained my creativity also I got hella sick so 🤷🏻‍♀️

a/n 3: I know I use the name Twitter when talking about that site. I’ll stop deadnaming it when musk rat does too

a/n 4: still not feeling 100% but I wanted to get this out for max’s bday!!

catpawsgaming

Welcome to the CatTree with the paw prints 🐾 ! I’m just a cat 🐈 mom Lady™ who loves the gaming but not the camera 📷. I’ve been playing games all my life and have been streaming for 3 years — as a hobby, not a full time job. I love my 2 cats, my handsome man, and you 🫵 all my lovely fans. You most definitely make all this worthwhile so mwah mwah 💋💋 (video)

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 6,583,455 others

catpawsgaming: here we go! Baldur’s Gate 3 has been highly highly requested — so I bought it! …yesterday and forgot about it cause curse of capitalism I still have my day job 😭 but away we go!

As always, if you didn’t manage to catch my livestream it’ll be on my page and I’ll be uploading it to my YouTube channel tomorrow! My YouTube will have the 3 usual versions (one unedited with my reactions, one with just the game play, and one with no sound at all but with closed captions)

Next stream date and game tbh announced but will probably be this Sunday with Animal Crossing (fingers crossed 🤞🤞 I finally get a good turnip price 😭😭 Daisy Mae hasn’t been kind to me lately…)

view all comments

user1: guuuurrrrrrrllll it’s about time you got bg3! We been waiting

↳ catpawsgaming: definitely worth the wait though! I had so much fun and it was so hard to stop for the night

↳ user2: for sure it was 🤣 your reactions to shadowheart and astarion were hilarious

↳ catpawsgaming: they clocked my type on point

user3: glad we convinced you to become a bard! You’ll rock it 💙

↳ catpawsgaming: ok but this the closest you will get me to actually performing so enjoy it while it lasts

↳ user3: not gonna sing along?

↳ catpawsgaming: 🤣🤣🤣 🫵 🤡

↳ catpawsgaming: absolutely not.

↳ catpawsgaming: also handsome just bust out laughing at the thought of me singing so…🙄🙄🙄 he’s lucky I love him

↳ handsome: I am very lucky liefje

↳ user3: ahhhh we were so close to her singing but also awwww cause handsome is here!!

handsome: liefje this was amazing

↳ catpawsgaming: thank you 🥰🥰

↳ catpawsgaming: but also you were laughing at me the entire night so…

↳ catpawsgaming: not sure how much I believe you

↳ handsome: well I didn’t say it was good…

↳ catpawsgaming: 🤨😒��😢

↳ handsome: 🥰🥰🥰

user4: oh to have a man that will spend hours with you doing separate hobbies together…

↳ catpawsgaming: gotta admit it’s the dream

↳ handsome: you’re the dream liefje

↳ user4: ok there handsome, no need to get sappy here on MY comment thread

Private Messages

mv1updates

liked by user, user, user, and 2,833,736 others

mv1updates: Max was streaming today! Just a short one but highly entertaining. Jimmy (or Sassy? I’m honestly baffled and for the life of me can’t tell them apart 😢) caused a small disturbance in the middle of his stream then slept the rest away in Max’s lap 😍

view all comments

user5: that was sooooo adorable!! Love seeing more cat dad Max

↳ user6: same! And don’t feel bad admin - I can’t tell them apart either

user7: to be Jimmy…🥵

↳ user8: right? What I wouldn’t give to be sleeping away in his lap…

↳ user9: blessed be. His damn thighs man 😳

user10: ok but am I the only one that heard a female voice in the background?

↳ user11: I THOUGHT I WAS GOING INSANE?? Like there was definitely someone there

↳ user12: wait when?

↳ user10: when max turned the camera to show jimmy on top

Private Messages

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 5,822,944 others

catpawsgaming: and Daisy Mae delivered this week! Sunday I got a price of 90 and today!! Selling price of turnips is 658 this evening!! Woohoo!

I've got my usual set up going to allow visitors to sell and I’ll be playing for about 4 or 5 hours so let’s make some cash today! I just ask you be respectful of my island.

As always, if you didn’t manage to catch my livestream it’ll be on my page and I’ll be uploading it to my YouTube channel tomorrow! My YouTube will have the 3 usual versions (one unedited with my reactions, one with just the game play, and one with no sound at all but with closed captions)

My week is looking pretty busy (a lot of traveling happening) so my next stream will probably be sometime next week and I’ll be playing Horizon: Zero Dawn! Its sequel will be coming out soon and I want to replay the first to refamiliarize myself with the game!

view all comments

user13: yeessssss! I’ve been holding out that someone would have some fantastic selling prices this week! New house upgrade here I come!

↳ user14: oh don’t I know it! It’s been a downward slump all week for me — the high was 105 😭😭

↳ user13: ouch 🤕

user15: did anyone else hear the cat meowing in the background!

↳ user16: yes! Catpaws has got a couple of cats — they’re almost never on stream (they don’t like staying in one place for long) but catpaws got them right before they started streaming!

↳ catpawsgaming: 2 of them! They’re my babies! 🐈🐈

↳ user15: awwwww 😍😍

user17: can I say something? Is this a safe place?

↳ user18: it is not but say it anyway

↳ user17: it totally looks like she’s got a wedding ring on in the beginning of this stream

↳ user18: nurse! She’s out again

↳ user19: no no no let her cook. I totally thought the same. It was literally just a glimpse but I swear that she had a ring on

↳ user17: thank you! I knew I wasn’t crazy

↳ user19: but! That does mean our catpaws is married!!!!!

↳ user17: 😱

↳ user18: 😱

↳ user19: 😱

↳ catpawsgaming: 😉

↳ handsome: 💙

↳ user17: WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!? WHAT DOES THAT MEAN?!?

catpawsupdates

liked by user, user, user, and 3,126,918 others

catpawsupdates: we’ve had a couple of requests lately asking about catpawsgaming and her cats! These are the first and last photo we’ve gotten — she’s incredibly secretive about them so we don’t know if this is the same cat in both photos or if she has 2 bengals (peep also handsome in the first photo. Catpaws was laughing when she posted that photo cause she’s usually the passenger princess)

view all comments

user20: I LOVE THEM

↳ user21: same! Insert that meme. “I’ve only had them for a day but if anything happened to them I kill everyone else then myself”

↳ user22: extreme but agreeable.

user23: that’s sassy - I’d bet money on it

↳ user24: sassy? What? Who?

↳ user23: sassy verstappen! F1 world champion max verstappen’s cat

↳ user24: ummm? This is a page for a small time gamer catpawsgaming

↳ user23: listen. Torture couldn’t get me to admit how long I’ve spent staring at pictures and videos of jimmy and sassy. But that is absolutely sassy!

↳ user17: I’m connecting the dots as I type

↳ user18: you’re not connecting shit

↳ user17: CONNECTING THE DOTS AS I TYPE

Private Messages

Bluesky

Private Messages

catpawsgaming

liked by user, user, user, and 3,712,222 others

catpawsgaming: tonight’s stream is gonna be a little late — I’m currently being held hostage by the cutest kidnapper ever

view all comments

user24: awwww

user25: your right. You simply can’t move!

↳ catpawsgaming: completely pinned down!

↳ user25: I don’t think anyone is gonna have a problem with your steam being late tonight

↳ user26: I’ve spoken to the council and we don’t! In fact we all vote for a stream of literally just the cat

↳ catpawsgaming:…you know that is an idea

↳ user26: omg. OMG. OH MY GOD!!

user23: THATS JIMMY!! I SWEAR ON MY LIFE

↳ user27: ok grandma. Let’s get you back to bed

handsome: so that’s where the little troublemaker is

↳ user28: omg hi handsome! Where’ve you been?

↳ catpawsgaming: ok I love all my fans but plz stop flirting with my man

↳ user28: can I flirt with you instead?

↳ catpawsgaming: 😳

↳ handsome: no

Private Messages

Bluesky

user29: ITS MAX VERSTAPPEN AND CATPAWSGAMING!!!! I TOLD YOU ALL

↳ user30: ok but are we really gonna take a gossip page as the truth?

user31: OH MY GOD THAT CRAZY FAN WAS RIGHT?!?

↳ catpawsgamingfan: I TOLD YOU. I TOLD YOOOOUUUUU

view all comments

maxverstappen1

liked by danielricciardo, charles_leclerc, landonorris, and 8,345,765 others

tagged: yourusername

maxverstappen1: liefje I know this is not how we wanted to share our love with the world but a light in the darkness is now I get to talk about how much I love you and how you are the best thing that has ever happened to me. These past 5 years have been a dream come true — and it’s been a dream I never knew I had. Seeing you that first time, you took my breath away. Forget the trophies and the victories, the world championships and titles I’ve won — becoming your husband has topped every single one of them. I can’t imagine my life without you anymore and I wouldn’t ever want to

comments have been restricted on this post

yourusername: oh my handsome man…you are the light of my life, the moon in my night, the stars in the sky, the best husband ever and the most loving cat dad I could have ever wanted to spend my life with. Thank you thank you thank you for picking me and staying with me and fighting for me and with me 💋💋

[beloveds-embrace]

Hi Noona! First, I just want to say that I am IN LOVE and OBSESSED with your Dukedom au’s, especially all the delicious ANGSTTTT you’ve been feeding uss. Your writing is literally what’s keeping me going and I can’t stop rereading all your works!! <3<3

But imagine if Knight!Konig comes back, maybe he regrets leaving reader and has realized that he loves her but he comes back to see her in that state and to see that she is OVERRR all these men being so neglectful and just numb to everything. What would his reaction even be or how would reader even react to seeing Konig coming back, basically with his tail tucked under? Would reader treat Konig even worse than the 141 since he left her and literally abandoned her?

Hi!! Thank you so so much for your kind words!! 💕💗🫶🏻 here is how i think it’d go if konig showed his ugly mug again 🙂‍↕️ thank you to @awkward-fink for helping with the little german bits! 💗

Dukedom au masterlist

angst dukedom where konig leaves

König had thought, in the weeks after leaving, that distance would provide clarity. His departure had been necessary- he’d convinced himself that the pain of watching you suffer was more than he could bear. Watching you slowly fade, your spirit cracking under the weight of the neglect, was something he couldn’t stomach.

It had been a decision made from guilt and a twisted sense of self-preservation. He had left, and in the absence of his presence, he believed he was giving you space to heal, to be free of the burden of his involvement in the chaos that seemed to constantly surround you.

But as the days turned into weeks, something gnawed at him. The silence of your absence was deafening. The image of your hollow eyes, the light leaving them as his words registered, the way you recoiled from every touch, from every word, stayed with him. Every step he took away from you felt like it was dragging him deeper into a well of regret.

But wasn’t until he heard rumors- whispers among the servants, hushed conversations in the alleyway, because he couldn’t help himself but keep an ear out for you- that he realized how deeply wrong he had been.

You weren’t just neglected now.

You were gone. Your fire had dimmed to a flicker, nothing but a broken shell of the person you had once been.

And the thought of you, isolated, suffering, and numb, shattered him more than he cared to admit.

Es war meine Schuld.

The day he returned to the duchy was gray and overcast, the sky heavy, a dark glare that felt aimed at him. König stood outside the manor gates for a long while, his breath fogging in the cold air. His heart hammered in his chest, and every instinct screamed at him to turn back.

But he had to see you. He had to make things right, even if it was too late.

He’d made the decision to return quietly- no grand gesture, no apologies spoken aloud. Just the hope that your eyes would soften at the sight of him, that you might, just maybe, let him back in. That you’d let him kneel in front of you, hold your hand to his lips so he could renew his vows of protection and loyalty.

But as he crossed the threshold of the manor, something in the air felt wrong. He could feel the weight of the place pressing down on him, as heavy as the sky outside. The halls were eerily still, and the silence wrapped around him more like a shroud than a safe blanket.

The first person he encountered was Kyle. There was no warmth in head butler’s eyes- just a cold acknowledgment of his return. When Kyle spoke, his voice was tight with bitterness. “You’ve returned,” he said simply, gaze hard. “Do what you must. Her Grace is in the conservatory.”

König felt the sting of that comment, but he didn’t falter; whyever would he care for the words of one who also had a hand in your pain and suffering? Though he did notice that Kyle, for once, spoke your title with no hatred, but respect.

True to the butler’s words, König found you in the conservatory, sitting among the flowers, your back to him. There was an untouched tray of tea nearby, delicate curls of steam rising, alongside a plate of pastries.

None of that mattered.

König’s breath caught in his throat as he took in the sight of you. You looked different- distant, lost in a way he hadn’t expected. As if your body was here, but the rest of you was somewhere so far away he would never be able to reach you.

“Mylady…” His voice broke the stillness, like a tremor in the air.

You didn’t turn around. Not at first. You knew it was him before he even spoke, the heavy weight of his presence unmistakable, the sound of his footsteps unforgettable to your ears.

There was a flicker of something inside you- a flash of anger, a fleeting hope, a moment of disbelief. But it was all… meaningless, swallowed up by the crushing numbness that had taken root and spread its branches in your chest.

“… Why are you back here, König?” you asked, your voice soft and flat, void of any emotion. You don’t look away from the flowers, the only colors your eyes seem to notice these days.

König stepped closer, his hands shaking slightly as he reached out, unsure of whether you would allow him to approach. His throat tightened, the guilt in his chest like a snake wounding around his ribs. “I… I made a mistake, mylady. I shouldn’t have left you.”

The words felt weak, fragile. Nothing like what he wanted to say. But this was where he had to start, he thought. This was where he could rebuild, piece by fragile piece.

You finally turned to face him, your eyes meeting his with a dull, hollow gaze. There was no anger in them- not really. He had left, and it had shattered you, and now you kept the shattered pieces protected.

“You left me,” you whispered, brows furrowing, frown tugging down. “You left me when I needed you the most. There wasn’t- there wasn’t a better offer somewhere else, you just… left me.”

The snake around König’s chest constricted painfully. “I know,” he said, raw and aching. “I know, mylady. And I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you like that. Das war ein Fehler.”

You stared at him, your gaze unblinking, the silence between you thick and heavy. Bitterness swelled in your throat, like ash. “And now you want to come back?” your voice was barely above a whisper, accusatory. “You… think that’s going to make everything better?”

He flinched, the words cutting into him like a knife. “I don’t expect you to forgive me. I don’t even expect you to want me here. But I need to try. I need to—”

“Stop,” you interrupted, your voice suddenly louder, sharp with pain. You hold your face in your hands, breaths shaky. “Stop- stop pretending like you can fix this. You all left me to rot. I’m… I’m beyond fixing. I just want to be left alone now.”

König’s heart shattered at your words, his breath catching in his throat. He had never imagined it would be like this- never imagined the depth of your suffering even if he should have.

“I should have stayed,” he said, trembling, weak in the face of your pain. “I should have fought for you. But I didn’t. And now… I don’t know how to make it right, mylady.”

The silence between you stretched, your eyes fixed on him as if you were searching for something- some sign of the man who had once stood by your side, who had once made you feel safe. But all you saw now was a stranger whose words yoy struggled to trust.

“… Why didn’t you fight for me?” you asked at last, quietly, the tears that had been held back for so long finally threatening to spill. But you didn’t let them fall- not yet. Your chest ached, your hands trembled, but you held on.

König opened his mouth, but the words failed him. He had no answers for you- only the crushing weight of his own guilt.

“I was afraid,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “I thought leaving would right thing to do, for both of us. But it wasn’t. It was the worst thing I could have done, mylady. I am… sorry. Truly.”

You stared at him for a long moment, the numbness in your chest swelling to an unbearable weight. You could have screamed, could have told him everything you had bottled up. But instead, you just… turned away.

“I can’t do this,” you decide, your voice breaking. “I can’t keep letting people in only to have them leave. I can’t.”

König didn’t reach for you. He stood there, helpless, aching with the knowledge that he had done this to you- had left you to drown in your own pain, to rot in the silence of a house that cared so little.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, his voice thick with regret, but you didn’t turn back. You didn’t even acknowledge him anymore, merely focused on your flowers once more, thick tears slowly spilling down your cheeks.

König stood in the conservatory, the glass walls surrounding him, and for the first time in a long time, he understood the depth of his failure. The path back to you seemed impossible now, the distance between the man he had been and the woman he loved growing farther than he ever thought it could.

Still, he stood there like a dutiful Knight. He had left you once, and unless you specifically order him to leave… he won’t abandon you once more.

[goddamnitmahtin]

Damian’s Babysitter

This is a sequel to this post. Since it was actually based on a wild dream I had, I figured I’de add more.

Danny and Wes found the gala boring as all hell. Almost immediately after showing up, they were sent to off to the “kids room.” Were Danny and Wes full on adults? Yes. But apparently rich people don’t want to look at you if you don’t have access to money they can convince you to give them. Which honestly, fair. Danny and Wes didn’t want to look at the rich people either.

Danny and Wes walked into the room filled with discarded children and found a sofa to sit on. It wasn’t like they were going to actually try to mingle with these children. Most of them were very clearly going to be mean. Most of them that weren’t too young to hold a conversation with were standing around on little cliques gossiping to each other about each other. It was like if you took all of the pettiest 5th graders in the entire state and put them into one room.

“I still can’t believe we are doing this,” Danny said, groaning. This entire thing was such bullshit. The entire atmosphere felt so fake.

“Lucky for us, I brought my laptop so we can just game until it’s time to leave,” Wes said, pulling his laptop out of his bag.

“Oohhh so that’s why you brought a purse,” Danny said, poking fun at the style of the bag. It was duty of a cousin to be a menace after all.

“It is not a purse!” Wes said, laughing. He gave Danny a playful shove before opening the computer and pulling up the game library. All of the games on the laptop were single player so they were going to have to take turns. Danny told Wes to go ahead and go first.

“Daniel Fenton,” said a child’s voice. One that he recognized.

Danny looked up from the computer and smiled, “Damian! What are you doing here bud?”

The child scoffed as if Danny were stupid, “I am here with my father. What are you doing here? You aren’t a part of Gotham’s elite.”

Danny had babysat Damian plenty of times in Metropolis when his father had odd work hours. Never once did he even consider that Bruce was from Gotham. Or part of it’s elite. Danny had always gotten paid well and it was a nice gig so he never really asked questions. But now that he thought of it, if Damian lived in Gotham, why did he want a babysitter in Metropolis?

Wes shoved Danny in the rib, “Danny- I think this kid is-”

“I’m here as a favor to a friend,” Danny said, ignoring the dull pain in his ribs, “Sam Manson.”

The child nodded, “Yes, I know Sam. She is not as pathetic as the other elite spawn.”

Danny laughed, “I agree.”

“Wait, how do you two even know each other? And how come he gets to call you Daniel?,” Wes asked. He had paused his game and was looking back and forth between Danny and Damian.

“Oh this is Damian! I babysit him every once in a while,” Danny sad gesturing to the young boy.

“Yes, when my father has work in Metropolis, I request to spend that time with Daniel when I am not needed,” Damian stated matter of factly, he crossed his arms looking proud of himself as he said, “I gained the right to refer to him as Daniel by proving myself in hand to hand combat.”

Wes gave Danny a look and Danny just shrugged, “He wanted to spar, who was I to say no? The kid has moves and I respect that.”

Danny smiled proudly and so did Damian at the acknowledgment of his fighting prowess. Wes just looked at Danny like he was the stupidest person in the world.

Wes’ judgement didn’t last long as a discord call started to ring on his laptop. Danny watched as his face flushed before answering. He was about to ask who it was but before he could, he heard a crash and then Damian’s voice.

“HEY!”

Then another voice unapologetically, “Sorry! Haha!”

Danny looked to see if Damian was alright just to see him holding a platter like a frisbee one one hand and using the other to flip someone across the room the bird, “Fuck you Tim!” (not really)

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

You'll Be Home For Christmas

Warnings: non/dubcon, and other dark elements. Not all kinks or triggers are tagged. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Summary: You agree to do a favour for your coworker but it might be more than you can handle.

Character: Clark Kent

Day Nineeen of the December Daze Challenge.

Prompt - fake dating becomes too real.

Note: As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

"I know it sounds weird, but, my mom's getting up there..." Clark looks away as he pokes his tongue into his cheek. 

You're not sure how he does it. How someone like him can make himself look pathetic. He's a big man. Mountainous really. He dwarfs just about everybody in the office. Even the desks look tiny next to him. And the chisel of his face is so sharp yet in that moment, he looks heart-wrenchingly soft. 

"It's just you two this year?" You ask. 

"Um, yeah," he rubs the back of his neck then drags his hand around and down his chest. He shifts in his chair and clears his throat. "Look, I know I can be nosy but I overheard you and Maggie. You said you don't have any plans this year--" He cringes and leans forward, putting his elbows to the desk as he covers his face then peeks out between his fingers. "It's a dumb idea." 

"It seems like you're pretty stressed," you fold your hands behind you. You don't want to agree with his last statement and make him feel worse. 

"Yeah, after Lois..." he shakes his head, "my mom's convinced I'm going to be alone forever and she keeps telling me how old she's getting. Says she wants to live long enough to see me happy." 

"Wow, sounds worse than my mom," you kid but quickly deflate. "Sorry, I'm not trying to make light." 

"No, it's ridiculous," he heaves and drops his eyes. "I've asked two of my neighbours, I asked my mail lady, and oh, yeah, the girl who made my coffee today. I'm all out of shame." 

"Can I think about it?" You ask. You know you're going to say no, but you don't want to do it right away. 

He perks up and his blue eyes flick to meet yours. His brows rise hopefully and he rolls forward in his chair, "really?" 

"I didn't say yes." 

"But you're the first person not to say no," he smiles. 

Oof, there it is. You've always had a hard time in situations like these. You're a people pleaser in the worst way. 

"Anyway, I should get back to work," you say. 

"When-- when will you know?" He asks. 

You hesitate. 

"End of today?" He suggests. 

You nod. Alright. You just need to get out of there before you cave to that puppy dog sparkle in his eyes. A man who looks like that shouldn't be able to make himself so pitiful. 

✨

You don’t know why you said yes. You really were going to say no but when Clark came back to check in, you weren’t prepared. So absorbed in your work, that you forgot about the odd request. 

So here you are, right beside him, wound as tight as a spring as you try not to show it. It’s not how you imagined spending Christmas. When your typical traditional obligation felt through, you were almost relieved. Now that dread has returned but in a new flavour. Meeting someone else’s family is somehow more intimidating than your mother’s judgement. 

Clark’s own anxiety pales in his knuckles as he drives silently. Only the radio provides some softness in the tension between you. It’s always strange to spend time with coworkers outside the office and now you’re jumping headfirst into their most personal facet. 

You fidget in your seat and let your eyes blur out the window. You didn’t expect his mom to live this far, yet you should have. He’d mentioned before he grew up on a farm. It must have been nice in a way, peaceful, out where you can’t hear the city honking and hollering. 

The snow thickens as you get further into the country. His large truck doesn’t falter as he steers cautiously through snowed over tire tracks. Would the plow even get this far out here? If it did, you don’t imagine it would come very often. 

Your mind latches onto those random things to avoid the obvious. You’ve always been this way. Instead of worrying about your mother lecturing you about your stagnant work situation, you’re usually more concerned with how your hair lays or if she’s going to the like that bottle of wine you spent too much money on for her. 

“Thanks again,” Clark’s baritone rolls over you like thunder. “Really. I know it’s... strange. I’m just not ready to date again but... my mom...” 

“Trust me. I get it. My mom can be... a lot,” you chuckle, though it’s really not that funny. 

“Oh yeah? I didn’t want to be nosy, but...” 

“Right, uh, you know, my brother asked if we could have dinner on Christmas Eve instead and the rest of us agreed. She insisted that Christmas Eve isn’t Christmas...” Your heart picks up with the anxiety you bury deep down. “Well, she cancelled Christmas since no one agreed with her.” 

“Wow, really?” 

“Uh, yep,” you can’t look at him. It’s embarrassing. It’s like when your mother dumped your birthday cake in the garbage because you pointed out you were 13 not 12 that year. Or when she walked out of your graduation because your grandmother wouldn’t switch seats. “It’s whatever. Family, right?” 

“I guess,” he says. “My parents always loved holidays too. Especially when dad was around.” 

“I’m sorry about your dad,” you murmur. 

“Don’t be. Sorry if it seems like I keep bringing that up,” he sniffs. 

You look ahead to the sole structure as it looms closer and closer. A farmhouse that comes clearer through the drift of flakes, and a barn like a shadow near its rear corner. It’s like one of those classic festive paintings printed on an advent calendar or some 1950s domestic dream. 

He pulls up to the house and shifts in his seat. Concern needles in his cheek as he squints over the steering wheel. He wrenches the shifter into park and kills the engine. You sit futilely and let him take the lead. 

“Lights are off,” he mutters. 

You nod, unsure what to say. Is something wrong? 

He gets out and you watch the snow dust into his dark hair and across his broad shoulders. He is unfettered by the deep snow. You zip up your coat and turn to your door. You push it open and look out into the perilous carpet. 

Clark surprises you as he comes around. “Here,” he puts his arms out, “it’s deep.” 

You grab his hand and his other goes to your waist. He as good as lifts you and sets you down in the path he’s stomped through the piles. You thank him and awkwardly detach. He shuts the door and moves around you closely. 

He leads the way to the porch so you can walk through his footsteps. Your lashes catch the snow as you look up at the grey sky. You don’t think you’ll make it home that night. Shoot. 

Clark kicks off his boots as he digs in the pocket of his coat and pulls out some keys. He unlocks the door and gestures you in ahead of him. You try to clear off your treads before you enter. He reaches around the frame to flip on the light. 

He crowds you as he enters. You try not to step off the mat and make a mess of the floor. You slip free of your Adidas, not the best choice for the weather, and shuffle aside. He hangs his jackets and combs his fingers through his hair to clear the flakes out. The dark strands glisten with the moisture. 

“Give me your coat,” he reaches for you. 

“Oh, yeah,” you unzip your jacket and hand it over. It isn’t exactly climate appropriate either. You’ve been meaning to invest in winter gear. A lot of times your intentions are only ever that. “Thanks.” 

“Quiet...” he mulls as his eyes skim the ceiling and he hooks your jacket on the rack. 

“Yeah, a little.” 

“Ma’s probably laying down,” he utters with a hint of concern. “I’m gonna go check and see what’s going on.” 

“Oh, I hope she’s okay.” 

“No worries. She stays up all night reading,” he shakes his head. “Feel free to make yourself at home.” 

“Right, er, okay.” 

You back up as he passes you. He heads upstairs and you slowly pivot to take in the interior. The pale wood is marked with knots which give it an even more rustic atmosphere and the decor is simple but in a quaintly traditional way. The details etched into the slender drawer of a side table or the dainty trim of the area rug give a lived-in effect. 

You tiptoe into the front room and hug yourself as you feel a draught whisper in around the window. You find the light switch and flip it on to cast more light across the neatly arranged furniture. There's an old-fashioned iron firestove in the middle of the room, the flue built up to the ceiling.  

You can hear Clark moving around above. The rest of the house is silent. You look at the old grandfather clock standing against the wall. It’s just after eleven in the morning. 

You turn as the stairs creak. Clark appears in the doorway with a sober expression. “Mom’s just waking up. It might be a while. She... she’s having a tough day.” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. Is she sick?” 

“She is and she isn’t. Just getting older, you know? Ever since she broke her hip last year, she’s been a bit slower,” he explains. 

“Oh, gosh, Clark,” you say. “Is there anything I can do to help? You said she was planning on dinner but I can get all that started for her.” 

“Sure, she usually thaws the turkey in the sink overnight,” he says. “We should probably start there.” 

“Right,” you chew your lip. 

“It’s nice of you to offer but if it’s too much--” 

“No, no! It’s cool. I’ve just never stuffed a turkey on my own,” you say. “I was always just an observer.” 

Your mother never believed anything was done right unless she did it herself. Then she’d complain about having to do it. 

“I can help,” he offers. 

“Sure, sounds like a plan. I think she might appreciate the help, huh?” 

He smiles but doesn’t answer right away. For a moment, he only stares. He clears his throat and nods at last, “she would—will.” 

“Show me where it all is,” you show your palms, not wanting to presume too much. 

He beckons you after him as he leads you through the doorway perpendicular to the one you came through. He turns on another light. This place feels desolate with them off. 

“So uh...” he begins as he goes to the counter and peeks in the sink, “yep, turkey’s in here.” 

“Great, hopefully it’s dethawed,” you say. “Alright, do you mind if I poke around?” 

“It’s all yours. I’ll try to help but gotta be honest, as a kid, I was out in the field,” he stands back to watch you. 

“Right,” you come forward to look the turkey over. Good thing is it won’t need extra time due to being half-frozen. 

“Hum... do you know if your mother does stuffing from scratch or a box?” You turn back to him. 

“Scratch, probably,” he shrugs. 

“Cool, uh, I need bread,” you declare. It’s almost nice being in charge. A very new but refreshing feeling. 

✨

The smell of turkey wafts from the stove as you work at the other fixings. You follow the list on the fridge. The paper is a bit yellowed but you can read it nonetheless. At least Clark’s mother is a planner. Although a few of her ingredients are a bit... aged. Nothing you can’t use but the spices have a little extra dust on the caps. 

Clark appears again. He’s been pacing in and out, helping where he can, but he seems too restless to focus. You tap pause on your phone to stop the music. You don’t get any signal out here but you have a bunch downloaded. It helps ease the silence that thickens with the fall of snow. 

“So, how’s mom? She doing okay?” You ask. 

“Mom?” He hesitates, “yeah, she’s getting there. Sorry about this. I know the whole reason you did this was to make her happy. For me. I just didn’t expect--” He blows out a heavy breath and leans on the counter. “It’s hard when you get older and everyone you love starts to leave. Or change.” 

Your heart flickers. You try not to frown too deep, “I’m sorry, Clark.” You look back down at the bowl of soaking cranberries. You take your family for granted. The might be a little toxic but they’re there. 

“Not your fault. I just... I thought I had it figured out with Lois. Everyone was happy and my mom was ecstatic,” he clutches his hands together. You meet his eyes sheepishly. “I just wanted her to be that way again. And you’re so sweet and nice.” 

“Aw, Clark. Well, you know, I should thank you. At least I’m not alone on Christmas,” you try to pep yourself up. “Um, I gotta wait for these cranberries a little long. Could I use the bathroom?” 

“Right, er, it’s just down the hall,” he points towards the second doorway that interconnects with the same hallway that leads back to the stairs. 

“Thanks,” you wipe your hands on a dishcloth and leave him with a thin smile. 

As you flit out, your chest sinks. You think of everything you’ve said since you got there, how insensitive it must have seemed. And back in the car when you complained about your mom. Ugh, he must think you’re so ungrateful. 

You close yourself in the bathroom and tend to your business. You’d been holding it since he picked you up from your building. You wash your hands, pumping the soap bottle hard to dislodge a clog in the tube. You finally finish up but find the smell of mildew stuck to your hands from the towel. 

You come out of the bathroom and look up and down the hallway. You shift to see the framed picture a bit better. Those must be his parents, and little Clark. You can’t believe he was ever that small. 

There are other pictures across the table below. A cluster of frames; class photos, impromptu snaps of memories, and posed family shots. Beneath one, there’s a slip of paper. You try not to be intrusive but the fading font catches your eye. You lean in as you tilt the frame to see the full letter, the card bent and forgotten beneath. 

‘Our condolences. We were so sorry to hear of your mother’s passing. Please do let us anything we can do for you.’ The message is signed Mallory and Chuck. You blink in confusion. Maybe it’s an old card meant for his mother; for a grandparent. 

“She died last year,” Clark startles you so you whip up and nearly tip as you stand straight. “It’s my first Christmas without her,” he continues. “I’m sorry I lied but I didn’t want to be alone.” 

You shake your head. Confusion swells through your stomach and clouds your brain. The fog clears and your eyes wander up to the ceiling. 

“Your mom?” 

“I miss her,” his voice cracks. “She took care of me.” 

“Oh, well, yeah,” you quaver unevenly. You’re reeling. Why would he lie about that? And to get you here? You’re just coworkers. “That must be hard.” 

“Mhm,” he nods and pouts. As he comes closer, you tense, wavering with his steps. “You’re not mad at me?” 

Your lips part then close. The wind whistles outside and reminds you of how isolated this place is. Clark drove you here... 

“I’m just... wondering why you need to lie,” you eke out. 

“I know it’s wrong but... if I told the truth, you might say no.” 

You nod and as he reaches for you, you wince away. You hug yourself and push your shoulders up. You swallow, “Clark, what is the truth? Why am I here?” 

He tilts his head and his eyes drift to the side. The light fades in his pupils and his jaw clenches. His fingers twiddle by his leg. 

“To be with me,” he looks at you again and smiles. A smile shadowed sinisterly beneath the worn bulb above. “You’re alone too.” 

You stare at him. Terror floods your veins and paralyses you. You want to turn and run but you won’t get far. All you can do is bide your time and hope that you can find a chance and way to get out. But for now, with him so close, so much bigger, you have to pretend. That is exactly what he asked you to do, after all. 

[malum-forev]

Dr. Bee

Summary: Bucky has quite the reputation but all it takes for him to want to change is an hour with an outspoken little Bee.

Bucky x Nurse!Mom!Reader

Bucky Barnes has many names. James Buchanan Barnes, Buck, The Winter Soldier, Sergeant. 

But on compound grounds, and in hushed tones, he’s usually called an asshole. 

He’s developed quite the reputation. Being difficult is his natural state of being. 

Bucky is constantly late to meetings, doesn’t show up for media days and is always going rogue in missions.

He doesn’t know why he does it, Dr. Raynor says it’s a coping mechanism, but that doesn’t make Bucky want to change one bit. He stays away from people and makes it everyone’s problem when someone decides to talk in his vicinity. 

Sam has tried to talk to him but, as per usual whatever the Falcon says, Bucky does the opposite. Sam’s even tried to convince everyone that Bucky’s like an untrained dog, he needs some kind of exposure therapy. Having people stand up to him and flat out call him what he is, that’s what he needs. 

Sadly for everyone who works with Bucky Barnes, no one has the balls to do it. 

But, everything changed one day. 

Everyone scurried away once the quinjet landed at the Avengers compound. They’d gotten word from someone in Logistics that the mission had gone terribly and the agents had barely come out alive. 

Bucky stormed into the med bay, his heels digging into the floor with such force you’d think it break, only to find it desolate. 

He huffed twice, looking around for anyone who could help with a deep cut on his right arm. 

“Hello?!” He yelled out, his temples throbbing and his left eye twitching. 

Bucky Barnes waited for no one. 

“May I help you?” Bucky’s eyebrows furrowed at the meek voice coming from behind the nurse’s station. His confusion only grew deeper when he didn’t find anyone there. 

A few seconds later a tiny hand popped up, wiggling its chubby fingers at him. 

“I said,” The little voice drew out the last word, annoyed. “May I help you?”

Bucky leaned forward and peeked behind the large desk to find a little girl.

Standing with her hands on her hips, the little girl with pigtails looked up at him with raised eyebrows. 

Her expression turned to one of concern.

“Are you hard of hearing?” The girl spoke slowly and loudly.

Bucky almost had to cover his ears from the shrill and very high tone of the girl. 

“I am not hard of hearing.” Bucky finally responded. 

“Then why didn’t you respond?” Little miss pigtails crosses her arms over her chest. “I asked you: may I help you?” 

His right eye accompanied his left one in twitching.

After he didn’t respond, the little girl scribbled something down on a paper in front of her. 

“What are you writing?” Bucky said through gritted teeth, how can a person so small get on his nerves so quickly?

“I can’t tell you.” She said in a singsong tone. 

“Why not?”

“You’re not my patient.” She shrugs, rounding the nurse’s bay holding a pink unicorn lunch box, coming face to face with The Winter Soldier. Actually it was more like coming face to knee height. “Can’t talk to people who aren’t my patients. Doctor patient villigage.”

Bucky bit his bottom lip to conceal a smile. “I think you mean doctor patient privilege.” 

“How would you know? You’re not my patient.” The little girl swung her lunchbox, skipping all the way to the waiting room. 

He was equally shocked and impressed. This little girl had more balls than most of the agents he worked with. 

Bucky looked around the med bay for anyone who knew the girl. Mom, dad, cousin, hell he’d even settle for a dog. 

With a groan, he followed behind her. Sure, he was a dickhead but he couldn’t let a kid wander around the Avengers med bay all by herself. 

She sat down, opening the lunch box and taking the contents out.

Bucky couldn’t help but think it was cute how her feet didn’t reach the floor. As he came closer, her swinging feet hit him in the shins. 

He let out an obviously fake and over the top groan, throwing himself on the floor. 

The little girl covered her mouth but her giggles bubbled around the room. 

“Aren’t you going to apologize?” Bucky asked from his position on the ground. “That really hurt.”

“No it didn’t!” She laughed harder. 

“Yes it did!” 

“I know nothing can hurt you!” She said as her giggles died down. “I know who you are.”

“You do, huh?” Bucky sat next to her.

“Mhm.” She said proudly, taking a bite out of her peanut butter and jelly sandwich. “But my mommy says I can’t repeat the names she calls you.”

Bucky suddenly felt embarrassed. Dickhead, motherfucker, bastard, asshole had a whole different meaning now that he knew the little girl thought they were synonymous to Bucky.

“Well then,” Bucky cleared his throat. “I should reintroduce myself. My name is James Buchanan Barnes but people usually call me Bucky.”

The little girl placed her tiny hand in his and shook it. “I’m not supposed to tell strangers my name so, you can call me Bee.”

Bucky nodded his head once, he almost didn’t notice the peanut butter she’d smeared on his hand. “Well Bee, does you mommy or daddy work here?”

Bee shrugs her shoulders. “Can’t tell you.”

He takes a deep breath in. “Can you tell me how you got here?”

“Nope.” She takes another bite of her sandwich. 

“Can you tell me how long you’ve been here?”

“Nuh uh.”

Bucky runs a hand over his face. “Is this because of the doctor patient privilege?” 

“Yep.” Bee smiles up at him and this time Bucky can’t help but smile back. A blooming feeling erupted in his chest. 

Bucky looked down at his hand, trying to find his most surface level wound. Something that wouldn’t traumatize the girl who’s no more than seven years old. 

“Dr. Bee, I need your help. Do you have anything for this cut?” Bucky points to the small cut on his knuckle. She didn’t have to know how it came to be, or who’s cheekbone had caused it.

“Thertainly Mr. Bucky.” Bee’s missing front teeth were responsible for her lisp. She jumped off of the chair and hurried behind the nurse’s station.

She swiftly wrapped his knuckles in gauze. 

“Do you need me to look over your other arm?” Bee asked sincerely.

“I don’t think you can help with this one.” Bucky chuckled, knocking on the vibranium. “Unless you have anti rust spray.”

Bee threw her head back with laughter but the cute sound was cut short by a door slamming open. 

His mind went blank the second he saw her. Bucky couldn’t peel his eyes off of her, even his jaw went slack. He tried to memorize every single detail of her. Her hair, her eyes, her body, the blue scrubs she wore. 

“Bee!” She gasped, taking the little girl in her arms. “You almost gave me a heart attack, I told you to stay in the common room!”

“Don’t worry mommy!” She smiles up at the woman who’s taken Bucky’s mind hostage. “I’ve been with Bucky!”

The woman finally looks over at Bucky and he’s sure the world has stopped. 

But reality comes crashing down when her eyes lose some of their light. 

“Mr. Barnes.” She gasps, pulling Bee to stand behind her body. “I’m so terribly sorry about her, she wasn’t supposed to be here.”

Bucky gulps down the nervous feeling in his throat. He can’t help but feel like the biggest idiot in this universe. 

All he’s done for the past few years is be cold, and rude, and now the most beautiful woman he’s ever seen, who’s got the cutest most outspoken daughter in the tri state area, is apologizing. 

His brain runs out of words and he just stands there. 

Bucky keeps quiet as the woman sutures up the wound on his arm, he’d completely forgotten about it. 

“Bee’s your daughter?” He manages to speak up after a few minutes. 

The woman nods with a smile, keeping her eyes on his wound but Bucky begs the cosmos she looks up at him, even if it’s just for a second. He wouldn’t care if she messes up, if it means their eyes could meet.

Bucky’s kept himself away from feelings for years. He convinced himself he doesn’t need them. But in a quick thirty minutes, Bee and her amazingly beautiful mother have stirred up more emotions than he’s had in the last two decades. 

“She-“ Bucky clears his throat. “She mentioned you’ve got a wide array of names for me.” 

Her cheeks burned red. “Bee must be mistaken, she’s got a crazy imagination. Always coming up with the strangest things-“

Bucky bit his bottom lip. “I’m used to it.”

The woman gulped, finally looking up at him. 

“I’m really sorry about the names.” She whispers. 

“It’s okay, darling.” Bucky’s eyes travel from hers to her lips. “But for next time, ‘Bucky’ is just fine.”

She nods, looking back to his wound. 

“And you are-“

“(Y/n).” She says. 

Bucky’s sure he’s never heard someone with a name as beautiful as hers. 

“You’re all patched up.” (Y/n) takes a step away from Bucky. “I’ll finish your report, I’m sure you’ve got more important things to do.”

Bucky stumbles on his feet as he stands up. Embarrassed, he walks straight to the door but stops before leaving the medbay. 

“(Y/n)?” He turns on his heel. “Would you please tell Dr. Bee I appreciated her help?”

The light in (Y/n)’s eyes returned as she nodded. 

Bucky left the med bay feeling lighter than ever before and he couldn’t help but think a certain little bee had everything to do with it. 

Comments and feedback is greatly appreciated!!

[star4daisy]

14/02 I valentine I 715 words I @rosekillermicrofic

(@ecstarry, @del-stars, @moon-seas and for @v7lgar, hope it makes you laugh once you wake up, darling)

“And after all that, James showed up with a huge bouquet and my favourite chocolate to ask me to be his Valentine,” Regulus told Dorcas and Pandora who were listening avidly to his every word.

“How romantic,” Pandora sighed.

Barty frowned. “Wait, haven’t you two been dating for months already?”

“So what?” Regulus asked defensively.

“So why would he need to ask you to be his Valentine? Wasn’t it a given?”

His friends scowled at him. “No, you have to ask even if you’re dating.”

Barty had never heard of that before. “Nah, no way.”

“Wait, does this mean you haven’t asked Evan yet?” Regulus realised.

“Of course not,” Barty scoffed. “We’re dating, he knows he’s my bloody valentine.”

“Does he?” Pandora challenged.

Barty froze. If any of his other friends had said it he’d think they were taking the piss, but this was Pandora — Evan’s twin sister — privy to information he never was when it came to his boyfriend's mind. “Did he say anything?” he asked with uncertainty.

“He didn’t have to.” Pandora shrugged, but she had her famous innocent smile that was anything but, her eyes twinkled in amusement. Barty wanted to shake her, to kneel at her feet and beg to know every thought that passed through Evan’s mind. “But if you didn’t ask, then I’m sure others did.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?” Barty stood up. “He’s my boyfriend, he can’t be anyone else’s Valentine.”

“Well if you didn’t bother to ask…” She singsonged.

“Shut up, that’s not a thing. You’re all trying to prank me.”

“When have we ever?” Dorcas rolled her eyes at him. “I asked Marlene, it was very sweet and pretty sure Lily asked Dora too.”

Pandora nodded, smiling at the memory of her girlfriend's surprise.

“Even Sirius asked Remus,” Regulus added up. “You’re the only one valentineless.”

“I’m not valentineness, or whatever the fuck, I’m going to Hogsmeade with Evan.”

“Does he know that?” Regulus challenged.

“Of course he does,” Barty got defensive. “We always go together.”

“If you say so.” 

“I do.” Barty started pacing.

“Never hurts to make sure, though.” Dorcas pointed out.

She did make a good argument and it wasn’t like Barty was just waiting for an excuse to stop being stubborn and make sure his boyfriend hadn’t accepted anyone else’s invitation.

“You’re right.”

“I always am,” she bragged.

Barty rolled his eyes but didn’t wait to argue, he had things to do, his person to woo. He was almost out the door when Pandora interrupted him. “Wait, how are you asking him?”

“I’m coming up to him and doing it.” Obviously.

“Poor, Evan.” Regulus shook his head in solidarity.

“What is that supposed to mean?”

“It has to be special, Barty. You can’t just ask.” Dorcas spoke to him like he was a small child.

“Of course I can.”

“Then he might not accept.” Pandora pointed out.

“He has to. We’re dating.” Barty tried not to stomp his foot.

“Not if you don’t ask properly.”

“Oh, fuck off. You’re having me on.”

“Nope, you need to give him his favourite things too, make it big,” Regulus told him. 

“Valentine’s Day is tomorrow. How am I supposed to make him a big surprise?”

“We’ll help,” Dorcas reassured him.

“Yeah,” Pandora smiled sweetly. “That’s what friends are for.”

“Thanks, guys.” Barty was touched.

Not so much though when his friends convinced him to spell roses to fall on Evan once he entered the Common Room to be greeted by Barty holding his favourite French chocolate with floating words spelling ‘Will you be my Valentine?’

As if he didn’t feel stupid enough, Evan’s eyes almost popped out of his head when he saw him. “Oh, that’s today?” he asked in confusion.

Barty froze. His so-called friends laughed. And he promised revenge in the near future. He knew they had to have been making fun of him, but the fear of not having Evan by his side had won out in the end. That was what he got for believing them.

"Tomorrow," Barty corrected. "You're going to Hogsmeade with me."

It wasn't a question.

Evan frowned. "Who else would I go with?"

Barty was going to kill Pandora. And Regulus and Dorcas for good measure.

But then Evan kissed him. Anything but his lips was forgotten.

[rileysluvr]

something really short cause i have nothing else. könig nsfw

just imagine a situation where you’re forced to sit on könig’s lap because there’s less room than needed on the small military aircraft due to a field emergency, so you opt for his space because he’s the closest person to you out of the bunch and not to mention the largest, kindest, most comfortable looking one. he’s so hesitant at first but it’s all kept internal because he could never say no to you, let alone stand to watch you on another man’s lap for the next two hours. he begins to question if he prioritized the correct things, however, when he ultimately fails at suppressing his hard-on after just barely managing for the first half hour of the flight.

you feel his dick practically digging into your ass through the multiple layers of cargo pants, and he knows his prayers for discretion have gone unanswered when you adjust your hips against his lap. the feel of it surprises you—you want to laugh, why now?—but the entire concept of it does not come as a shock; it only nourishes the given cockiness in you. you’d have to be a blind mutt not to notice the way he looks at you, shying away when he thinks you’ve caught him staring. silly guy. the hood doesn’t hide all, könig.

“scheiße, du schweinehund,” he breathes defeatedly to himself, eyes squeezed shut in humility. he’s the only mutt here, really. he can’t imagine how pink his cheeks have gone, except for the fact that they feel like they’ve been repeatedly grazed by a blowtorch you hold. he musters up a straight voice, yet his words just barely break past a whisper; “…forgive me.” he grits his teeth and bites his tongue, “gott—i am not in the correct headspace right now, i-i am so sorry.”

you giggle that same laugh that had his knees threatening to buckle in on most days. “it’s okay, könig, really,” you tell him, so convincing and so sweet that he has no choice but to believe it to be true. still, he’s beyond mortified. you hum after a few seconds, “more than okay.” he sucks in a sharp breath. you don’t need to see him to know what sort of affect you’re having on him, arms crossed over your chest while his are unsteady and sweaty at his sides. he’s so awkward, it’s adorable.

like this, you can truly absorb all of him like you never could on an average day; he’s soft spoken off the field and with a deeper drawl, and far more reserved. that manly, post-mission musk of his, apparent through the close proximity, is only insanely attractive. and he’s just so. fucking. big. you lean further back against his frame, head resting on his broad shoulder, and you can feel his heart beating at his ribs against your upper back. with everyone else chatting amongst themselves or already deep into their sleep, you wouldn’t mind teasing him a bit.

“i actually think it’s really cute,” you add, with another slight of a giggle, of course. “and hot.” you bite and bite and he groans so lowly every time, something almost of a broken whimper, you’d say. you wiggle your hips a bit, not terribly noticeable to the outside world but he swears your every action comes with a bite of an aphrodisiac. you smirk and he hears it, right past the nonchalance in your voice; “and quite impressive, i’d say.”

you hear a whine die in his throat—it’s fucking whorish, and needy—along with another swear, and in an instant, you’ve made up your mind to take him out of the public eye once you land and show him just how impressive he really is.

[alicethenobody]

Thinking about how fucking ridiculously kind Dante is.

Trish lured him to Mallet Island through manipulation which lead to him “killing” (we know Vergil survived but he didn’t) his brother but he still forgave her and offered her his kindness, empathy, and even trust and friendship. His kindness impacted Trish so much she was able to become her own person outside of Mundus’ influence. Speaking of helping people change for the better, in DMC X he fights Credo and even though this guy is out for his blood he only wants to help him change his ways and manages to convince him to do the right thing. Which I think is what lead to him protecting Nero in his last moments. The canonicity of DMC X isn’t stated but considering the fact that we know Dante was originally supposed to have a longer campaign I can’t help but think a lot of the stuff in that game is remnants of those scrapped ideas.

He very openly felt bad for Griffon when Mundus killed him despite the fact that he’s loyal to the guy who killed his family and even gave him a respectful sendoff in DMC5. Generally he’s known for roasting his opponents but he still has a level of respect for them which I think is cool. In the first novel he even laments about the people who had to die on his missions, as he despises unnecessary bloodshed even if it involves bad people and popularized showing mercy among the other mercs in the business.

In the anime he often takes on jobs for free out of the kindness of his heart and is happy just being able to help people who need it even if he’s broke. Most of the money he DOES get goes to victims of demon attacks like Grue’s daughters and Enzo who lost his arm because he feels immense guilt for not being able to do what he feels like is enough for them.

He’s shown to be very protective of the younger generation through Patty and does everything he can to shield her from seeing him fight demons because he doesn’t want her to be traumatized like he was at a young age. He does the same thing with Nero, really, trying to keep him from fighting Vergil because he believes the result will either be his nephew getting hurt or him killing his own dad and having to live with that trauma like he did after he thought he killed Vergil. The way he looks at Nero and Kyrie fondly at the end of DMC4 before leaving Fortuna, he was willing to do whatever it took in order for Nero to keep that happy life with her. (Side note, Dante grew attached to Patty like, immediately. 15 minutes in he’s like “WHERES MY DAUGHTER?!” He’s so silly like that.)

It’s nice to see Nero is following in Dante’s footsteps too. In an interview it was stated Nero only really stepped into action in DMC4 because he wanted to protect Kyrie but in DMC5 we see a much more mature Nero who cares about civilians too, my favorite example being how he offered a total stranger food because he assumed he was just hungry. Dante in DMC3 was in a somewhat similar situation, though he was obviously a lot more selfish starting off than Nero ever was until he matured by the end of the game and took on the role of humanity’s protector like Sparda. It was his journey of “waking up to justice” like his dad.

Uhh… yap over. I typed this at 3 AM.

[igotlovestruck]

storiesforpeanut [ lando norris ]

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — bf!lando norris x pregnant gf!reader . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — soon-to-be-parents, fluff, mentions pregnancy, no specific timetable . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ this is inspired by a filipino actor, ryan agoncillo’s instagram hashtag, #storiesforlucho ! something about dad!lando makes me feel so soft >_< i’ll post this first before posting the written version of fine line (bc i am in a deep pit of writer’s block) anyway, enjoy <3

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

[ x . com ]

[ instagram . com ]

storiesforpeanut

5 likes

storiesforpeanut the day mum and dad went to the hospital to make sure if the tests were true, if you were true. and you were. mum and dad are both confused, scared, but are confident that they could take care of another human being. peanut, the moment we saw this sonogram, our hearts were filled with joy.

this is the day dad called you ‘peanut’ because look at how little you were, my peanut. dad even convinced mum to name you peanut, but mum shut that idea right away. our little peanut, this account is dedicated to you, so you can look at our memories as a family.

peanut, mum and dad loves you so much. you may have changed the trajectory of our lives, but we are still grateful enough to have you in our life. we love you, peanut.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

8 likes

storiesforpeanut you were getting bigger day by day, peanut. bigger and stronger that mum was starting to show. mum never left my side, never missed a weekend supporting whatever it is dad was doing. she started wearing bigger clothes to avoid people seeing. not that she was embarrassed, but because mum was afraid that something would happen at the early stage of your growth.

mum did not believe in superstitions during pregnancy, but when you were growing inside of mum, she didn’t want to jinx anything that might harm you, peanut. avoiding the public eye was hard, but heck, your mum did such a good job doing so.

we love you, peanut. and we will protect you from any harm. we will protect you for the rest of our lives.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

16 likes

storiesforpeanut our first day back in abu dhabi after a year. mum got ready for our friday schedules and we arrived earlier. people were shocked to see her, after hiding her bump with oversized clothes for at least two months while accompanying dad. people took photos of mum and dad, people started congratulating the both of us.

we hid you for a little while, peanut. that’s because of dad’s work where almost everyone in the world is staring at us and that scared mum and dad. that someone might mob the both of us and could cause you and mum harm.

negativity aside, peanut, your aunts and uncles were excited when they saw mum. everyone, including dad’s big boss had a huge grin on their faces. everyone was happy to meet you, peanut. even though it will still be a few months until we meet you personally.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait to meet you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

20 likes

storiesforpeanut mum and had has two moods: beach mood and winter mood. this is taken after our weekend in abu dhabi. we stayed for a few more days, exploring the beach and enjoying the sun before going to a cold place to spend some time with dad’s friends (and ski! which mum can’t do as of the moment, don’t want to harm you, peanut).

you won’t believe it, peanut. mum threw a snowball on dad's head, her revenge because i insisted we call you peanut.

mum enjoys the sun and winter, peanut. those are her favourite season. dad, however, loves all seasons as long as he gets to spend it with mum and you, as well, peanut. mum and dad will experience these seasons with you in a few months.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you to experience your first snow, first beach, first autumn and first spring.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

29 likes

storiesforpeanut taken while mum and dad are on their way to maccy d’s in the middle of winter. mum said she wanted fries without the salt. /fries without the salt/. even though that was a weird request, can’t deny mum her weird cravings. after all, she’s growing a literal human inside her–which is you, peanut.

also, mum only ate three pieces of fries and made me eat it while she watched. that i didn’t like. but you know what? dad is ready to give you everything you want. you and mum. be it a weird craving, late night feed or nappy change–i will be there for you and mum. always in all ways.

we love you, peanut. we can’t wait for you here.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

37 likes

storiesforpeanut mum took this video. the very first time you kicked, and dad was in the shower (unfortunately). mum and dad are visiting mum’s family where mum reunited with her childhood dog. mum’s pup, poppy, immediately went to her and checked. poppy sensed your existence, peanut. even poppy was excited to meet you.

mum and dad’s family are delighted to have you, peanut. especially your grandmums. they now named themselves, nan from dad’s mum and granny from mum’s side.

we love you, peanut. we are all waiting for your arrival.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

55 likes

storiesforpeanut 30 weeks in, and we finally saw your beautiful face, peanut. mum and dad haven’t gotten over the first time they heard your heart beat, felt your kicks, yet here you are... so beautiful as mum’s doctor showed us your face.

peanut, mum and dad were scared the first time we found out that mum was pregnant. but seeing you now, all those fears are gone and we feel confident that we can do this–together.

you are such a happy baby, peanut. you even got dad’s dimples, said mum. you are a perfect balance of mum and dad.

we love you, peanut. 10 more weeks until we finally meet. we can’t wait for that day to come.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

79 likes

storiesforpeanut last week of mum’s beautiful belly. any day now, we will finally meet you. you’ll have your first breath, first cry. mum and dad and other family members cannot wait to finally meet you, peanut.

the last nine months has been crazy, peanut. it was crazy, but it was fun. brought mum and dad closer than ever. you’ll be so loved, no, you are so loved already, peanut. and a little spoiled because some of dad’s friends from work have sent you numerous toys and clothes and even diapers to last for the next year or two.

we love you, peanut. we’ll see you soon.

love, dad.

storiesforpeanut

249 likes

storiesforpeanut well, it’s nice to meet you, peanut. mum and dad are delighted to finally see you. mum laboured for almost 24 hours, and by the time stroked at exactly 04:49 am, you were born.

dad almost passed out during your birth (for some reason), but dad got through it. mum was so brave, dad held her hand throughout the procedure and never left mum’s side.

peanut, the second they returned you to mum and dad after cleaning you and helping mum, we couldn’t stop looking at you. how could we make such a beautiful baby like you? said dad.

we love you so much, peanut. welcome to the real world.

love, dad.

yourusername

liked by mclaren, lilymhe, landonorris and 1,839,937 others

yourusername baby olivia norris checking in 🫣👩‍🍼

view all 23,961 comments

mclaren congratulations, y/n and lando! 🧡 welcome to the world, olivia 😍

landonorris my girls ❤️

user OMGGGGG shes hereeeeee

user congratulations 😭😭😭😭😭😭

user shes so tiny!!! 😭😭 so cute

lilymhe congratulations girl!! 😍 can’t wait to officially meet ms. olivia and see you soon 🤗

yourusername thank you babe 😚 you and alex can visit us anytime

alex_albon on our way NOW

yourusername dont bring any more toys ok

lilymhe aww why not :(

yourusername WE HAVE NO SPACE ANYMORE

landonorris

liked by oscarpiastri, carlossainz55, maxfewtrell and 1,990,827 others

landonorris me 🤜 🤛 peanut

view all 45,839 comments

maxfewtrell will i be able to hold olivia 😁

landonorris no

maxfewtrell ☹️

yourusername lando be nice

landonorris ok fine

user let him hold olivia!!

landonorris 😐😐

oscarpiastri congratulations mate 🫡 on my way to give gifts

landonorris thank you and pls dont bring anymore

oscarpiastri it’s a koala bear

landonorris ...

landonorris ok fine i guess

oscarpiastri 🐨🐨🐨

user no way lando’s first picture with olivia is them doing a fistbump 😭

user why are there two babies in this pic

storiesforpeanut and landonorris

908,729 likes

storiesforpeanut on your very first boat ride, dad had the courage to finally ask mum an important question. a question dad has been wanting to ask mum since he saw your very first sonogram. and guess what, peanut? mum finally agreed to marry dad!

you may not remember this at all, peanut. but it was a day to remember, indeed. dad really wanted this to be perfect, and he got what he wanted. this is a year full of surprises.

we love you, peanut. we love you so much.

love, dad.

view all comments

user omgomgomgomgogm

user LANDO GETTING MARRIED JFJFHFJF IM CRYINGGG

user OLIVIA MAY NOT REMEMBER IT BUT SHE JUST WITNESSED HER PARENTS GET ENGAGED AND GET MARRIED IN THE SAME LIFE TIME

user congra😭😭😭😭tula😭😭😭😭tions

yourusername

690,857 likes

yourusername beach days with the loves of my life 🌅

view all comments

user i love this family so much

user THE KITTLE FINGERS

user PEANUT’S SMALL FINGERS IM CRYIGN

landonorris i love you babies

yourusername we love you, daddy

landonorris 😳😳😳

yourusername sleep on the couch tonight

landonorris I WAS JUST KIDDING

landonorris BABE

landonorris PLEAAAASEEEE

[patchouii]

I am re-watching the show for the 23rd time and I am Having Thoughts. Hannibal’s desire to push Will into his “becoming” is very transparently rooted in his desperate desire for an equal, for someone who could understand him and see him as he is without running away. I think some of the fandom assumptions about the medical malpractice and manipulations that Hannibal carried out with Will interpret it as Hannibal only toying with him, turning Will into someone whose darkness is subservient to his. If that was what he wanted, there were plenty other easier targets who had already embraced or acquiesced to acts of violence that he could pick— Randall, Dolarhyde, Tobias, maybe even Margot. And yet he chose Will, time and time again. He wants someone who has the ability to choose him in return, someone who can see— not someone who is blinded. When Will pulls a gun on him, he says “the scales have fallen from my eyes”— and Hannibal smiles.

Hannibal often seems like a very complicated and even mysterious character on the surface, but he’s actually supremely understandable— part of the horror of it all is that you can’t help but sympathize with the villain, once you look into him further, and you can’t help but wonder how far you might have gone in his place. The audience is cleverly made into a mirror of Will’s own struggles with those questions. It’s baked into our DNA to seek connection and others who can understand and therefore aid and support us, our ancient ancestor’s main evolutionary advantage was their ability to form social groups and have strength in numbers. Hannibal knows this, too, and he knows the futility of it regarding himself— one of the first things Jack says to him is that he enjoyed his paper on “the evolutionary origins of social exclusion”. There’s irony here. Jack enjoys the paper, he does not have to suffer its truths like its author does.

Hannibal can either let the cold fact of how he’s destined to be alone in a world that’s against him by nature crush him slowly, or he can convince himself that his singularity means that he’s superior, that he’s above all others. Being different is a useless pain unless different means better. Who wouldn’t choose comfort over suffering? Hannibal’s tableaus are almost always referred to as mockeries, as an outlet for his sadism and superiority complex. However, I disagree with this a little— they’re also beacons. They are the work of a desperate man, whether he realizes it or not. Hannibal’s elaborate tableaus are publicly displayed, he puts the utmost effort into them, he makes the brutality beautiful, too— which makes the average and sane person shy away from them even more, and that’s the point of them! His tableaus are messages, sent out into the world in the hopes that someone can see the beauty of the darkness in them like he can, that someone can understand them, and through that, understand him and choose him. It’s reminiscent of how bowerbirds build their elaborate nests in the hopes of finding a mate their choices of flowers, twigs and berries will agree with.

Will is the first person who sees them as something more than abominations. He truly considers Hannibal’s statement that “God kills people all the time, and are we not created in his image?” in episode two when they’re still essentially strangers, after he’s admitted that killing Hobbs felt good and powerful. He considers the fact that they share an appetite before the encephalitis and Hannibal’s manipulations get ahold of him— and then he ignores and rejects it. He and Will are the only two people in their separate world— and yet Will has still rejected him, choosing the slow suffocation of being different without being better, without “becoming”. To Hannibal, this is a waste not only of Will’s life, but of his, too.

Will has chosen to continue subsisting on the scraps of other’s darknesses, afraid of committing to his own, afraid of the facts of his existence. Hannibal’s decision to scale Will’s walls just as Bedelia said about his comes with the extra weight of choosing to tear them down behind him. The fact that he never anticipated the result of finding his only equal in the world being falling in love with him is a testament to how utterly alone he’s always been. Love and true connection is foreign to him, and it is terrifying in how helpless it makes him, in how terrible it is because of the fact he can’t resist its beauty and allure. Beauty and terror are the features of a God. Hannibal tells Bedelia that love is a God, and he compares Will to God over and over.

Will is his God. He has made Hannibal’s world anew, and Hannibal can’t help but be willing to do anything to have Will join him there.

[corruptedcaps]

Model Behaviour

Liam paced his tiny workshop, his fingers twitching nervously as he glanced at the nearly completed bodysuit hanging in front of him. The latex and silicone masterpiece shimmered under the harsh overhead light, an uncanny recreation of the fictional supermodel girlfriend he’d spent the past year bragging about.

Maddy sat on a stool, arms crossed, her expression a mix of annoyance and disbelief.

“This is insane, Liam, I can’t believe I’m even considering this.” She said.

Liam stopped pacing and turned to her, pleading. “Maddy, you’re my best friend. You know I didn’t mean for this to happen. It just… got out of hand.”

“You could’ve just told the truth at any point,” Maddy shot back. “Instead, you built that.” She gestured at the suit.

“I panicked, okay? And now, if I don’t show up with ‘Sophie,’ my career is over. They’ll never take me seriously again.” He said, his face distraught at the thought.

Maddy sighed, shaking her head. “Ok fine let’s do it.” Liam lit up with excitement.

“The suit’s fully functional. It even has built-in voice modulation. You’ll look, sound, and… act just like her.”

“Wait, act?” Maddy raised an eyebrow. “What does that mean?”

Liam hesitated, scratching the back of his neck. “I may have added a… personality enhancer. You know, to make you more convincing. A touch of… um… supermodel flair.”

Maddy’s eyes narrowed. “Define ‘supermodel flair.’”

“There’s no time, just know it’s just a little conditioning to help you out is all.” He said hoping his house of cards won’t topple.

Maddy glared at him but stood up. “This better not mess with my head, Liam. If I end up on a therapist’s couch because of this, you’re paying the bill.”

“Noted,” Liam said, handing her the suit. “Now, let’s get you suited up.”

Minutes later, Maddy stood in front of the mirror, transformed. The suit hugged her frame perfectly, the flawless blonde hair cascading down her shoulders. Her lips were pouty, her posture effortlessly poised. She turned slowly, her reflection almost unrecognizable.

She placed a hand on her chest, running her fingers over her impressive boobs. “That’s… me?” Her voice, now sultry and smooth, startled her.

“Pretty convincing, huh?” Liam said nervously from behind her. “You look incredible.”

Maddy tilted her head, studying herself. A sly smile crept onto her lips. “Of course I am. Incredible doesn’t even begin to cover it.”

Liam frowned. “Maddy? You okay?”

Maddy adjusted the shimmering blonde hair cascading over her shoulders, her heart pounding as she stared at her transformed reflection. This was her chance, the closest she’d ever get to being Liam’s girlfriend, even if it was just pretend. It was the main reason she had agreed to do it in the first place.

And yet as she gazed at her new and improved body a voice in the back of her head was telling her that Liam didn’t deserve her now that she could have any man she wanted now. The voice made her hunger.

“Of course I do, darling.” She purred, her modulated voice smooth and sultry. She struck a playful pose, a mix of teasing and allure. It felt incredibly natural. “Now can we get going, I NEED to be seen.”

A few hours later Liam stood near the drinks table, awkwardly nursing a glass of sparkling water as his coworkers mingled around him. His eyes kept darting to Maddy, who was currently surrounded by a captivated crowd, her laugh ringing through the air like music.

She was wearing the dress that she demanded he buy her on the way to the party. A shorter than short red dress that she insisted was festive but also showed off her long legs and ample chest. She was the center of attention, and Liam could hardly believe how flawlessly Maddy had pulled this off, or rather, how flawlessly the suit had.

As he watched her endless charm his colleagues, his boss, David, sauntered over to Maddy with a confident grin. David was tall, broad-shouldered, and had a reputation for his charm. Liam’s stomach sank as he watched David lean in, clearly flirting.

“Liam, she’s stunning!” Claire from accounting exclaimed, sidling up beside him, blocking his view of Maddy. “You were underselling her. No wonder you were so smitten.”

“Uh, yeah, she’s, uh… one of a kind.” Liam muttered, forcing a smile.

“So, Sophie, Liam’s been keeping you a secret from us for too long. What do you do?” David asked, his voice smooth.

Maddy tilted her head, a playful smile curving her lips. She was drinking in David. A man like him would never have took a second look at a girl like her before. A girl like Maddy.

“Oh but you’re not Maddy anymore remember?” The voice said in her mind, now louder than before. “You’re Sophie a beauty queen, who knows a king when she sees them.”

The words weee accompanied by a dumping of endorphins that made her eyes flutter a little and a soft moan pass through her lips.

“Are you alright?” David asks with actual concern.

Maddy felt a flush of lust come over here as concern etched David’s face. “Mmm I’m sorry, it’s just I was taken by your good looks for a moment. It’s made me light headed.” She said biting her bottom lip at him. He looked a little taken aback by it himself but was still intrigued.

Placing his hand on her lower back he started to guide her way from the noise of the party. “Why don’t you sit down? I know the perfect place.” He said to her with a knowing smirk which she returned.

Meanwhile Liam was still trying to break away from his conversation with Claire. “I know why don’t I introduce you.” He finally said after ten minutes of her gushing about how amazing ‘Sophie’ looks.

However as he glanced back toward where Maddy had been he found her to be gone. His eyes scanned the room frantically until he spotted her. He left Claire to go deeper into the office, far from where the office party noise was. However as that sound died, a new one took its place. The sound of a woman moaning and panting.

Liam turned the corner and saw Maddy sitting on David’s lap, jumping up and down as she moaned like a wanton whore.

Liam froze, his stomach flipping. “No. No, no, no…”

He pushed through the cubicles, his mind racing. By the time he burst through the door, Maddy was running her fingers through her hair as her eyes rolled into the back of her head, climaxing and completely lost in the moment.

“Sophie!” Liam blurted.

She pulled back, her expression still utter bliss as her orgasm settled. However as the afterglow of it faded so too did her euphoria, as it shifted into something cool and indifferent. But also something else in her eyes that Liam couldn’t place. “Oh, Liam. There you are.”

David looked between them, smirking. “Sorry, buddy. Didn’t realize she was off-limits.”

“She’s… she’s my girlfriend!” Liam stammered, his voice trembling.

Maddy raised a perfectly arched brow. “Girlfriend? Liam, don’t be so possessive. It’s unbecoming.”

Liam blinked, stunned. “What?”

David chuckled as he did up his pants. He clapped Liam on the shoulder, as he said “Relax, Liam. She’s just being friendly.”

“Friendly?!” Liam’s voice rose. “You were fucking!”

Maddy sighed dramatically, turning back to David. “He’s always so sensitive. Isn’t it adorable?”

David laughed, clearly amused.

“Meet me back at the party hot stuff.” She said, kissing David on the lips in front of an irate Liam. David smacked her on the ass as he sauntered out back to the party.

Liam’s face burned with embarrassment and frustration. “Maddy, what the hell are you doing?”

“Maddy? Who the hell is Maddy? Have you had one too many cosmos?” She said sharply, her voice dripping with condescension.

“This isn’t you!” Liam hissed, lowering his voice. “It’s the suit messing with your head.”

Her eyes narrowed, and she crossed her arms. “What suit? What the hell are you talking about?”

Liam froze, the words catching in his throat. “The suit, you’re wearing a suit! I built it, remember? You’re not really… this. You’re Maddy!”

She laughed, a harsh, hollow sound that made his stomach churn. “You’ve lost it, Liam. Is this ‘Maddy’ one of your friends you have a crush on or something?”

“No, no, no!” He stammered, his voice cracking. “You’re Maddy! You’re my best friend! We put this plan together, remember? You’re wearing a suit that I—”

“Stop it!” She snapped, her eyes blazing. “Do you hear how insane you sound? A suit? Ugh… at least you losing the plot will make this a lot easier.”

Liam looked at her confused. “Make what easier?”

Maddy let a smirk curl up on her lips, clearly revelling in what she was about to do. “We’re done. Honestly I don’t know why we were even together in the first place.”

Liam shook his head, his pulse pounding in his ears. “Maddy, listen to me. You’re not thinking clearly. The suit, it’s altering your mind. You have to fight it.”

She took a step closer, towering over him in her heels, her presence somehow larger than life. “You’re pathetic.” She said, her voice low and cutting. “You can’t handle the fact that I’ve outgrown you. That I don’t need you. You’re the one who’s confused, Liam. Not me.”

His heart sank as she turned on her heel and strutted back toward the party, her laughter floating over the sound of the music.

Liam stood there, frozen, his mind racing. She didn’t remember the suit. She didn’t remember who she really was. She was Sophie, his perfect girlfriend who wanted nothing to do with him.

[alijuan]

Ascended Astarion is true unlike Spawn Astarion who pretends to be good for Tav

If i see that opinion again i will explode🫠

It's funny because Astarion will only approves if you persuade him not to perform the ritual.

A lot of people don't understand the concept of grey morality and it shows. Many people justify him but this type of AA fan thinks worse of him than he really is. He needs the ritual not because he's a power-hungry villain, but because he needs safety for himself and his lover. Depending on Tav/Durge's actions, he either stays with the feeling of fear (AA is still afraid deep inside, the game files confirm this) or he fights against it and becomes truly free of Cazador and fear (spawn ending). The dialogue with Durge about not being afraid is wonderful and shows difference between SA and AA.

Astarion: This little adventure of ours has taught me that we can't let our lives be ruled by fear. Or else we never really live. Astarion: I'm not afraid. Not of you, not of your darkness, and not of our future.

The point of the spawn ending is that Tav/Durge saw him as more than just an outward image of a power-hungry killer incapable of becoming a better person. But if you can't see beyond that image, he will think that he has no choice but to continue living in the world that Cazador has built for him. If you think that AA is his best ending because he is evil then you have failed to understand his whole personality.

I feel safe with you. Seen.

Despite of his love of killing (he is a vampire after all), he repeatedly showed compassion and guilt for luring people. Before the ritual, he literally convinced himself that he should kill spawn for power. Astarion rationalises this to protect his psyche, because he’s clearly not the type of guy who can sacrifice thousands of people to the devil and not feel anything about it.

Durge/Tav: This isn’t you, Astarion. Not really. Astarion: It should be.

I really like that the player technically makes the insight check and that there’s an advantage when they're romancing Astarion. Tav/Durge could see through the image Astarion was trying to create. They saw an elf whose fear prevented him from seeing all the possibilities.

Astarion: When I look at my future, anything and everything feels possible now.

Just as Astarion saw Durge not just as serial killer, but as someone who could defeat Urge and become a better person.

Durge: I am myself at last. You don't need to fear anything from me ever again. Astarion: I knew you had that sweat heart all along. I was alarmed by you sometimes, scandalised even, but somehow by your side, I still only ever saw you.

AA fans also often ignore the fact that the game has good and bad endings in the companion stories. And it's not about morality. All companion quests are literally about how the desired and obvious path leads to a bad ending. And Astarion is no exception. In a good ending, he gets the chance to heal and finally acceptes himself and his vampire nature, in a bad ending, he gives up and regresses as a person.

Spawn Astarion knows what he wants and says it. SA is ready for a relationship and sex. Ascended Astarion can’t answer the question of what he wants, so he acts as a vampire lord should. AA is literally back to the state of the first act and has started manipulating Tav/Durge through sex again (even repeating the same phrases). This is why he doesn’t really want sex (he approves if you choose the no sex option and he definitely dissociated during the sex scene) unlike Spawn Astarion who initiated it.

Spawn Astarion is the same Astarion who enjoys “murder and terror” and you can see that clearly in his “hero” ending (more like “antihero”). And this is the ending without romance, he chose it himself. And the whole idea of him pretending to be good for Tav is actually meaningless without romance.

Ascended Astarion is the same Astarion, but stuck in a black and white world of fear and domination.

SA scene ends with hope music (instrumental version of I want to live) AA scene ends with chains.

And there’s so much more. Larian specifically showed the difference between good and bad endings in the dialogues, scenes after ritual, recent updates and even the interview so people would definitely understand, but they didn't🙃 Some AA fans (especially on youtube and larian forum) are on a new level of delusion.

[whiskeyghoul]

Pt2. || She blinded me with science || [Spencer Reid x Goth!Reader]

Read part 1 here

Read part 3 here

A/N: OMG I can’t believe how much people enjoyed part 1? Seriously, as I am finishing this part up it has reached over 500 notes, I am shocked and so very thankful for the love. I didn’t expect it. A silly little fic not proof read, totally self indulgent, really this is so wonderful and I appreciate everyone who has taken the time to read it and reblog, like or comment on it. I hope part 2 doesn’t disappoint. Part 3 is going to be here soon too, which will be the unofficial date.

WC: 1,9K ~

Tags: Fluff, just fluff, Spencer is a flustered mess, Alt!Reader, Goth!Reader, 2 idiots flirting, Reader and Penelope are besties, use of Y/N, Penelope has been playing matchmaker, alluding to a date, crushes.

Warnings: None. 

Your pov.

It was a late Sunday afternoon. You were sitting on Penelope Garcia’s couch, cup of hot tea in hand. Legs curled up on the couch with a colorful blanket over your lap. It clashed just ever so slightly with your dark outfit. The two of you are in complete contrast to each other. Penelope was a ball of color in a bright purple dress with a lemon pattern, large yellow earrings and a blue bolero sweater. Compared to your all black ensemble she was a ray of sunshine. An array of snacks spread out over the coffee table. The aforementioned peppy blonde was sitting next to you on the couch. Deeply engrossed with the romance show playing on the TV. You watched it together every Sunday, when a new episode would come out. Today your mind was somewhere else completely.

“He hasn’t called yet.” You spoke up. Penelope eyed you curiously, “Who?” She asked, her focus gone from the show. Her eyes peered at you with interest from behind the cat eye glasses she had picked out that day. “Doctor Reid.” You turned your head back to the TV casually, trying to not seem bothered. You could hear Penelope hold back a small squeal. It sounded more like a gasp that way. “Oh my god! Are you interested in him? What did he do to impress you? I have been trying to set you up for ages! You have shot down any person I have discussed with you. Always something wrong.” She started rambling, hearing the clink of her glass being put on the coffee table. Her hands grabbed yours, making you look back at her and rolling your eyes. “Firstly: I am not ‘interested’ in him. Secondly: I just thought he would have called by now. Or stopped by at least.” You shrugged noncommittally. You were just a little interested. Thinking back to that meeting.

When Spencer had stepped into the lab earlier that week, courtesy of Penelope, you had found his awkward demeanor endearing. He was hot, that was for sure, and tall, you remembered having to look up at him, Those dark brown eyes pinning you in place. Especially when you had stood so close together. You had wanted to tease him after watching him stumble over his sentences. See him even more flustered. It made you somewhat excited. When you had given him your number you could feel his pulse racing under his skin. He had shown many signs of being interested yet he hadn’t even texted you. It made you rethink the interaction. 

“Well, he couldn’t have stopped by. They got called on a case in Utah so he’s not really in the area right now.” Penelope clarified. Those words put your mind at ease more than you expected them to. “Oh, I guess he can’t really get to the lab then.” You shrugged. Just a little disappointed but feeling relieved that apparently he hadn’t meant to not visit you. Or maybe he had done so on purpose if he would be close. Your earlier relief was replaced by a mild panic again. Trying to convince yourself you weren’t interested in Dr. Reid. Although, he could have texted.

You could practically feel Penelope smirk as you turned your attention back on the TV. Unable to focus but pretending to. “Spence is not one for texting. He probably has been getting to the hotel at ungodly hours and hasn’t had time to call.” it was like she could read your mind. “Don’t do that.” You said with a shudder. “Do what?” Penelope questioned innocently. “Read my mind like that. It’s weird.” You answered, making her laugh. “Just goes to show how well I know you.” She answered with a smile. It was true. She knew you too well you would even argue. The fact both of you were women in a male dominated field, both dressed eccentricly, and both with a passion for cheesy movies and tv shows. It was only a matter of time until you were best friends after your first run in.

Your phone, which was placed on the table, lit up at that moment. The ringtone played at a high volume, making the cure blast through the room. Your eyes quickly flickered to the screen. Caller ID unknown. You picked up the phone, hesitant of the unknown caller, deciding to hang up instead. You had been plagued by telemarketers for the past month and really didn’t want to deal with that right now. If it was important they would call again. And they did, you still had your phone in your hands when it went off again. “Just pick it up! I will keep watch over our show, fill you in later.” Penelope said, motioning her hands for you to get up. You got off the couch, soft blanket falling to the ground as you picked up the phone. Softly padding away to the kitchen to be out of earshot of Penelope. “Y/n speaking.” you answered, waiting to hear from the other end of the line.

“Hey… ehm… is this not the right time? Are you busy?” The voice on the other end of the line made you straighten up slightly in surprise. “Doctor Reid.” You breathe out his name quietly, adding a “Now is a perfectly good time.” to your sentence. Wondering how hearing his voice through the slightly tin-like phone speaker made you feel a little flutter in your stomach. “Good… I didn’t want to bother you. You can just call me Spencer by the way. Doctor sounds too formal. I just introduce myself like that. It’s a habit. I don’t call you Doctor L/n either. So call me Spencer.” He started rambling. A smile spread across your lips, this rambly version was different from how speechless he had been in the lab. You held back a giggle. Apparently you had rendered him speechless in the lab. “Alright, Spencer.” You answered, the humor in your voice apparent. His breath hitched a little on the other side of the line. 

“Why did you call?” You asked, trying to continue on without dawdling. “Oh eh, the report, I ehm…” He was quiet for a moment. It crossed your mind that maybe he didn’t need to speak with you, but he wanted to. “Yes?” You urged after a silence had fallen on the other side of the phone line. There was an intake of breath from Spencer, a moment that signaled he might be trying to raise some courage. “I didn’t want to talk about the report.” He finally spoke. It made you smile, your cheeks flushing ever so slightly. “Oh, well then what did you want to talk about?” You added a bit of playfulness in your tone. You pictured him, holding the phone to his ears that were tipped red. His face was probably just as flushed as it had been in the lab. 

“I ehm- I haven’t been able to focus, on the case that is. Because I keep thinking about the lab. How I probably came off as a mess, I just didn’t know what to say because you looked so… Not that you look bad because you don’t, you looked really nice. Emily says my IQ gets slashed down to 68 when I am around pretty girls. I wanted to make a good impression. I couldn’t find the words though. I usually don’t make great first impressions, because I tend to ramble. Just- I really really hope I didn’t make a bad first impression.” His sentences flowed into each other like word vomit. Nervous, quick, and hardly understandable. Luckily, you were trained in the art of understanding nervous rambles when Penelope would spiral into one from time to time. However he had called you pretty. “Spencer.” You said his name almost like a question. There was a beat of silence. “Yes?” He asked softly, he sounded so nervous.

“You didn’t make a bad impression. I gave you my number for a reason.” You told him with a smile, a little giddy as the words ‘he called me pretty’ kept bouncing around your head. “And I am sorry I called without any real reason to… I know it was for talking about the report. Though Morgan tried to convince me it wasn’t.” Spencer answered. You rolled your eyes at that. Ofcourse, this hyper intelligent man would mix up what you were trying to do. “I gave you my number because I wanted you to call me. Not about the report. I just wanted you to call me. About anything.” There was apparently a need to clear up that confusion. It was silent for another moment. “Oh.” It was like realization dawned on him. “So I should have called sooner, right?” His question made you laugh softly, trying not to clue in Penelope on your call.  “Yes, you should have. Or could have at least. I was waiting.” You answered back, smiling at the ground. You fidgeted with one of the large rings on your free hand, twisting the cool metal round with your thumb.

“I’m sorry I didn’t.” You could almost hear the smile in his voice. The slight uptick in his pitch. You imagined he was still fiddling with the sleeve of his sweater, or was perhaps looking at his shoes with a grin. “You can make it up to me by buying me a coffee when you get back.” The suggestion came naturally, you didn’t even have to think about it. The words left your lips before you could, really. “What do you like?” Spencer asked without hesitation. “Cinnamon latte.” You answered it softly, a little surprised he agreed so readily. A giddy feeling in your stomach. “Alright, cinnamon latte, I’ll remember.” Spencer sounded a little breathy, like he too was feeling giddy at the prospects of having coffee together. Like the idea of taking time to get to know each other at work over a warm beverage was the perfect first date. “What do you like?” You asked in turn, wanting to know what he would usually get. Knowing more about him would feel so domestic and sweet. “Black coffee, usually with tons of sugar.” He had a hint of embarrassment in your voice. A little muffled like he had covered his mouth to hold in the confession of drinking it so sweet. You smiled at his answer. Of course he had a sweet tooth. “Tons of sugar, I’ll remember.” You mirrored his words. 

“Oh! My! God!” You heard Penelope gasp from the living room. Knocking you out of your little phone call bubble with Spencer. “I think I have to go. You better call me tomorrow.” You said it lightheartedly. Just wanting to hear from him again soon. “I will. I’ll call you.” Spencer answered. “Bye Spencer.” “Bye Y/n.” You hung up with a smile, already turning and walking back into the living room. Penelope turned around on the couch to look at you, “They shot Richard!” She looked absolutely shocked as she gave you the news of your favorite character being hurt. You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face though. “Spencer called.” You saw her face form from a shocked to surprise expression, “Oh! My! God!” She sounded a lot happier that time, and you knew you wouldn't hear the end of it.

[lilipens]

✧. HEART IN A CUP.

Synopsis: To ensure the taste is perfect, you're invited to a tea party by Riddle himself—though, there is more than meets the eye.

Pairing: Riddle Rosehearts x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings / Genre: None ^_^ It’s implied Riddle has romantic interest, so it’s kinda fluff

Word Count: 1.9k

A/N: aaaaaa late post,,, partially rushed because i lost track of time but enjoy anyways and belated happy new year to all!!!

Order. Precision. Routine. These are cornerstones of Riddle’s world. An uptight schedule governs every hour, every minute, ensuring nothing is out of place. There is no room for error, no time to waste. Nevertheless, you’ve somehow managed to slip through that perfect system. He doesn’t know how, but here he is, settling aside his meticulous plans to make time for you. Not that he’d admit it aloud.

Placing the teapot down carefully, he makes sure it aligns just right with the table’s edge. It must be exactly measured as it is a step in a well-practiced routine. His focus is keen, but something feels different today. A subtle tension sits in his shoulders, betraying the calm exterior he’s trying so hard to maintain. You don’t comment on it; regardless, you can’t help but notice him peeking at you now and then.

“I trust you’ll provide an honest critique,” Riddle speaks out quickly—fairly rushed. “Your input is valuable—essential, even; not because it’s yours, of course, but because improvement demands impartial feedback.” This tea-tasting is no ordinary event, even though he’s done it countless times before. This one feels personal.

You bite back a smile. The way he’s trying so hard to sound detached is almost endearing, although you know better. There’s nothing impartial about the way he keeps glancing at you, as if gauging your every reaction.  

Riddle may hold his routine in high regard, but he’s still human, and no amount of perfectionism can mask the little cracks in his armor.

With his fingers now gently adjusting the teapot once more, he refocuses on the task at hand. The sound of liquid pouring into the cup fills the silence between you. When you lift your lips, you can still see how palpable his stare is. Riddle’s breath hitches slightly. "How is it?" he blurts out, breaking the quiet with an edge of urgency. "The balance of flavors—does it meet expectations?"

Your lips curve into a soft smile as you take another sip. The tea, for what it’s worth, is lovely. The light sweetness blooms on your tongue, a delicate balance of flavors that speaks to the careful thought he’s put into it. "It’s wonderful. The taste isn’t overpowering, and it’s not too sweet... Did you add something special?"

Riddle straightens in his seat, a flicker of pride crossing his face despite his effort to keep it neutral. He clasps his hands together in his lap, the rigid posture a reflection of the precision with which he approaches every task. "Naturally," he responds proudly, as though each word has been chosen with the utmost care. "Every blend must be unique. Heartslabyul prides itself on its exacting standards, and I made adjustments to ensure it met them."

What he doesn’t say is how many late hours he spent poring over recipe books and testing proportions, how even his own peers had begun to comment on his unusual fixation. He rationalizes it to himself, convinced this is merely an extension of his relentless pursuit of perfection. Yet, deep down, he knows it’s more than that.

When you set the cup back on its saucer in satisfaction, Riddle feels an uncharacteristic wave of relief. He glances away, feigning interest in the napkin folded neatly by his plate, smoothing its already straight edges. “However, I am glad you approve,” he adds softly.

You observe him closely, noticing his cautiously maintained disposition start to falter a bit. A fleeting vulnerability shows as his hands fidget in his lap, giving way to the nerves he’s suppressing. He’s done so much for this moment, yet it’s as though he fears it’s still not enough. You lean forward slightly, resting your elbows on the table as you meet his eyes.

“You know,” you start gently, “not everything has to be perfect. Sometimes, it’s okay to let things just... be.”

The words leave your mouth without much thought, but you can see how they settle into him. He freezes, his fingers clutching the teacup so tightly that you almost fear it might shatter. "Let things just be?" he repeats in a louder pitch, face slowly burning vivid red, before abruptly cutting off. He inhales sharply, exhaling through his nose as he tries to gather himself, to rein in whatever frustration is bubbling beneath the surface.

"Do you have any idea how—" He stops himself mid-sentence, eyes widening slightly as he realizes his tone has become far too harsh. A deep breath. Then another. He visibly forces his frustration down, his face flushing a deeper shade of crimson. "Forgive me," he apologizes stiffly, somewhat coming out restrained. "That was uncalled for."

For a second, you’re taken aback by the sudden outburst. There’s a tendency for Riddle to lose his composure in such a way, but witnessing it firsthand catches you off guard. As you watch him, you see the way his body tenses up again and his hands clench, you realize that he’s not angry at you—he’s angry at himself. The heaviness of his unyielding expectations presses on him. It’s the fear of not being enough, of not meeting the impossibly high standards he’s set for himself.

“It’s okay,” you reassure, offering an understanding smile. "I didn’t mean to upset you. I just… I want you to know that you don’t always have to try so hard." It’s how you say it that’s so simple, but they seem to cut through the tension like a knife. Riddle’s gaze softens ever so slightly, as if he’s allowing himself to let go of the tight grip he’s always kept on everything. He doesn’t respond right away, and you catch a glimpse of something deeper—something he rarely lets anyone see.

You don't push him further; instead, you sit quietly, allowing the moment to settle around you. 

Soft ticking from the clock seems louder than usual, accompanied by gentle rustling of wind outside, branches tapping lightly against the windowpane. A faint scent of tea lingers in the air, mixing with the tranquility around you. The space feels alive with stillness—your breathing, his, the distant hum of life beyond the room—all blending into a peaceful harmony that Riddle isn’t used to. His shoulders relax slightly, though the tension remains in the way he holds his cup, his posture rigid, as though still caught between a desire for order and the acceptance of the present.

Riddle holds his teacup delicately, feeling the warmth seep into his palms. He doesn’t move right away, as if holding the cup has become more of an action than part of his carefully planned routine. His gaze shifts toward you again, but this time, it carries no urgency, only quiet curiosity, as if he's trying to understand something new. His brow furrows slightly, lips pressed together as if grappling with a thought that refuses to come to the surface.

“You know,” he says after a long halt, “I’ve always been so absorbed in my routine that I never really stopped to consider... how others might see things.” He hesitates, his brow furrowing. “I never saw much point in it. Everything had to be exactly where it should be. But now, I think there’s more to it.” His eyes briefly flicker to the teapot, but this time, there’s no urge to adjust it, no need to measure the space between the spout and the edge of the table. He simply lets it be.

You watch him, your smile warm, eyes following the subtle shift in his demeanor. There’s vulnerability in him now, a crack in his polished shell that makes him seem more... human. Despite how small the step seems, you know it’s significant. This isn’t just about a teapot or a cup of tea—it’s about him allowing himself to exist without fearing that even the smallest slip will ruin everything. It feels like the most genuine connection you’ve shared.

“I guess I could stand to be a little more lenient sometimes,” he considers, somewhat willingly, though the thought alone makes his stomach twist. Disorder was something he had always worked to prevent, a disruption he could never fully tolerate. Change had never been Riddle’s strongest suit—acknowledging it was one thing, but acting on it was another entirely. Yet, he must understand that not everyone sees the world as he does.

Unable to resist, you tease him with a playful smile. “A little more lenient? I’ll believe it when I see it. I’m sure your teapot has been perfectly positioned for the next hour, hasn’t it?”

Riddle freezes for a split second, his cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “I... I can’t help it if I like things in order,” he stammers, attempting to cover his flustered expression with clearing his throat. You almost laugh, but the sight of him—the way his usual demeanor forfeits—makes you pause. It’s the first time you’ve seen him so unguarded, like he’s letting someone inside without the usual barricades.

Leaning forward slightly, you smirk. “It’s alright, Riddle. I think I’ll enjoy watching you try to let go of some of those... habits.”

A sigh escapes him, this time more in resignation. “I suppose... one could attempt to be a bit more flexible.” His tone softens, though there’s a subtle strain to it, as though admitting this is a minor yet monumental step for him. He doesn’t meet your gaze, but his words hang in the air between you, carrying a hint of vulnerability you never thought he’d show.

A small, satisfied smile tugs at your lips. “Good. You’ll get there eventually.”

Crossing your legs on the chair, you watch as he fiddles with his cup again, a slight tremor in his fingers as he tries to regain his cool. There’s something strangely comforting in the way he does it—like a part of him is still holding on, not quite ready to let go of his habits. The tension remains, but it’s less oppressive now. For once, he isn’t rushing to make everything perfect. In lieu, it feels like he’s taking his time, just a little.

Riddle looks at you again, though his hands still move with a touch more uncertainty. "I don't know how long I'll last," he mutters, half to himself. "But I'll try."

“Good enough for me,” you retort with a wink, glad to see a crack in his carefully constructed walls. "I’ll hold you to it." 

Although Riddle is still not entirely comfortable, there’s a tiny shift in him. He seems to settle into the gentleness of the atmosphere. The weight of the day’s tension slips away, even if just for now. The room no longer feels like a battleground for control—it feels like a place where two people can exist without expectations, without the need for everything to be perfect.

When he speaks again, his voice is grounded with the faintest trace of a smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. "Next time, we’ll see how well I manage…. without the rules.”

“Next time?” You raise an eyebrow. “So you’re not throwing out your schedule just yet, huh?”

Riddle’s lips twitch. "One step at a time, of course."

He turns his attention to you, and something shifts in his eyes—like he’s sharing a secret. Then, realizing how rare this is, he looks away quickly. His equanimity returns, though not as fierce as before. It’s better now. More honest.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll manage,” he guarantees, less forced.

You lean back in your chair, the contentment of seeing him take that first step settling in your chest. "I think I’d like to see you try."

At last, it feels like time is finally on both of your sides. The rigidness that once controlled begins to fade, and regardless of the fact you don't expect an overnight change, you sense more serenity. For the first time, Riddle seems to be easing up. And you'll be here to witness it.

© lilipens