#vote sweater Bill

[yukithefruity]

Introducing a new AU and seeking naming suggestions! (Poll)

What if the axolotl showed up and dumped Bill off at the Mystery Shack, but there was something... wrong with him? What if there had been something wrong with him for over a thousand years, and the therapists had simply given up?

If that premise interests you, check out When I'm Sixty-Four on Ao3, updates frequently! Features Pines family bonding over questions of moral philosophy!

Big thank you to the artists who contributed their interpretations of this sad lil guy! Credits at bottom

Now, as for the name... I'm putting it up to a vote! If you have other suggestions, feel free to share!

Bill floating over hand: my resident artist, Boop!

Red sweater Bill: My #1 fan, @salmon-vive

Teeny tiny itty bitty Bill: my talented moot, @creatimations!

Fresh Off the Axolotl Bill: my very own mother (hen), @toxicgaysludge

Thank you, you amazing artists <3 <3

[abibliophobiaa]

right where you left me:

chapter two preview:

steve harrington x inexperienced!f!reader || best friends to lovers, mutual pining, second chance romance with the town handyman who lives in a cabin in the woods.

a/n: since the poll was a tie when i said i would call it, here’s a section of each of the two words you voted for. because i am generous. and because i have been writing this one for a few weeks and making you wait for it.

JEALOUSY:

Lucy leans her elbow against the counter, and you can’t help but admire the cream colored chunky knit sweater she’s wearing with a flowing skirt to finish off the look. It looks effortless on her.

“What can I get you today?”

“A hot coffee, cream two sugars please,” you tell her, and she gets to work behind the counter.

Out of the corner of your eye you notice Steve’s truck he uses for work, the back full of leftover lumber.

“Oh, Steve’s here?” Lucy says, sounding a little faraway. Contrast to the ball of excitement she’s been since you walked in. “You know, he’s a confusing one, that guy.”

“Is he?” You laugh, watching as he rummages around his front passenger seat.

“Ever since the earthquake, he’s been giving up so much of himself. Charity, taking up the basketball team at the high school, helping out around town. Did you know he helped my parents build a shed last summer? By hand?” Her voice trails off, and that smile of hers grows once more, like she’s stuck in a far off memory. “And he’s handsome. Single. Yet he doesn’t date. Not really. It’s so…strange? But whoever he marries — they’re gonna be a lucky one.”

“Yeah…” Your brows furrow at her words.

Steve, your Steve, is something of a hero to these people. He’s your hero too, but it twinges in your chest hearing it from someone else. For so long he’d been yours, but now, it seems, he’s needed around here. Admired. Loved. And you’ve missed so much of it in running away. Time you’ll never get back.

He’s changed. You just never realized how much. An ache builds in your heart, wondering if maybe you’re too different now from who you both were years ago.

The man in question hops out of the vehicle, fingers carding through his hair as he gazes into the coffee shop, immediately lighting up when he sees you.

“Do you know him?” Lucy asks, voice raising in pitch as she hands you your coffee and you toss your bills onto the counter.

“Yeah,” you say, sipping at the coffee, “he’s been my best friend for years. I’m staying with him for the time being, actually.”

“Oh!” Lucy perks up, chewing her bottom lip. “So you’re the one he’s so —”

As your mouth opens to ask what Lucy means, Steve walks in. He immediately commands the attention of the shop, both yours and Lucy’s stares drawn to him as he slides an arm around your waist and tugs you against his side, oblivious to what he’s interrupted.

“I was going to grab you some coffee,” he says, fingers squeezing a bit at your side. He notices Lucy then. “Hey, Luce.”

Luce.

Familiar.

Jealousy burns. You try to tamper it down, to pretend the unspoken words between them don’t matter to you. But there are a thousand new questions that burn in your mind, with no words or standing to ask them.

Lucy waves in greeting, those pretty green eyes of hers glimmering in the moonlight spilling in through the front windows of the shop. “Always good to see you, Steve.”

“You too,” he agrees, head lowering closer to yours as he then asks, “Ready to head out?”

He’s leading you to the door, and you spare a glance over your shoulder to the woman you’ve just met moments ago. There’s a look you can’t quite place on her features, a furrow of her brows, a slight downturn to her softly parted lips.

You wave your goodbye, and try to push all of whatever that might have been into the depths of your mind.

-

TENSION:

Now you sit beside him on the floor, admiring the freshly painted wall, taking a moment to breathe before starting the next one. You’re wearing a pair of overalls, a ratty old tee shirt tied up beneath, revealing the curve of your side, a patch of skin that Steve’s been trying to not stare at for the past few hours.

His heart clenches as your head tips over your shoulder, a little splatter of olive colored paint across your cheek. Reaching out, he cups your cheek and wipes it away, warming as you lean a bit into his touch.

Neither of you dares to acknowledge the tension burning in the room. The way it feels like time seems to slow to a halt when you’re there, shuffling up onto your feet, moving over to the next wall. Steve only talks. Begins prattling on about anything and everything, trying to keep himself distracted from the feeling swirling in his gut — the desire that has only grown every day to see what might happen if he just dared to try. To close the gap between your lips and put to bed all the questions.

But he doesn’t. Instead he gazes ahead, mouth dropping open when he asks about what your relationship with Clark was like — in what feels like an attempt to torture himself — and you utter that you’d never really done anything with him.

“Or anyone…for that matter,” you add slowly, your bottom lip pushing between your teeth, voice a little quiet.

“Like…?”

“I’m not a virgin, Steve,” you bark out, eyes rolling a bit in your skull. “But I’ve really only been with one guy. And it wasn’t even good or anything.”

“You’re joking.”

“Steve.”

“I’m not making fun. I’m just…”

“Shocked at how pathetic I am?” you drawl, taking a step backward. Away from him.

“No — I just —”

“It’s not like the movies either. All of the explosions and fireworks.” You frown, and Steve grimaces at your words. At the sadness lining your features. “I just — I don’t know. It wasn’t like how you’d always talked about it. We barely even kissed during it and I didn’t…”

“Honey…” he sighs, taking a step forward. “Clearly, he wasn’t the right guy. The right guy would have made it extra special, because you’re special, and definitely would have made sure you finished before he did. And I’m sorry but he didn’t deserve you, because you deserve all the explosions and fireworks.”

“Yeah?” You sound so hopeful, eyes a little narrowed, mouth parting softly.

“I mean…hypothetically…” he steps a little closer.

He catches your slow swallow. The way your chest heaves on a breath, eyes trailing his form. Heat burns in the atmosphere as your eyes narrow a bit, staring at him like you had in the woods. Appreciatively, and not at all like a friend. How long had he missed those looks? How long had he not noticed the slow simmering desire beneath the surface? Suddenly he’s back in that closet and a teenager again, only now instead of your jean shorts, his finger curls into the pocket of your overalls, chest brushing yours. Cornered, your back bumps against the presently dry wall behind you.

“If it were me —” he stops. Thinks better of it.

“N-no,” you splutter out, voice a rasp, breath puffing, “go on. Hypothetically, obviously.”

“Well, for starters, I’d start by getting down on my kne —”

“Hey, kids!” Mr. Jones calls into the room, and you both jump like you’ve been caught doing something you shouldn’t be. “Could one of you help me sort through some boxes? I don’t want to be a bother, but my back just isn’t what it was, you know?”

You throw a hand up in the air. “I’ve got it.”

Steve inwardly groans, his jeans suddenly a little too tight at what he’d been imagining doing to you only moments before — what he’d been imagining doing to you for years, if he was being honest.

You glance away, rushing over to Gerry, embarrassment rolling off your form.

And you’re gone, following the older man from where he came.

Conversation…over.

-

tag list: @definitionwanderlust @aurora-austen @muamazon4 @aol19 @hazzaismyreligion @corrodedseraphine @xxbookdrunkdemigodxx @ash5monster01 @cathx91 @eddiesguitarskills @nervoushottee @totally-bogus-timelady @dumbasscorn @tomsrebeleyebrow @upside-down-angel @spoookysix @alwayslindie @josephquinnsfreckles @palmtreesx3 @alana4610 @starry-sarah @alice-tweven @rvelvetsitty @ahoyyharrington @micheledawn1975

[ford-between-dimensions]

*clears throat*

Hi there. I’m 👁️ anon. I’m the one who snuck a picture of Bill under Ford’s sweater. Here’s why you should vote for me:

- I have more paper, pens, markers, and tape where that came from

- I love trolling so much

- I can probably find ways to distract him long enough for more shenanigans

- If I win, I will suddenly obtain double the amount of paper, pens, markers, and tape than I had before, giving more opportunities for shenanigans

- I bet I can get Ford to admit to something embarrassing if I play my cards right

Please vote for me, so that I may be a bigger pain in Ford’s ass. Thank you.

- 👁️

More entertainment for me! Trolling people is the beauty of life.

…Curse you.

[ipsen]

Blank Canvas 15

Read on AO3. Words: 4251 Summary: Cochlea again. The board begins to reveal itself. Chapter 14 Chapter 16 Master Post

Haise left his and Hide’s apartment at midnight.

“None of these people worked in the Washuu Task Force. Like they were off-limits or something.”

He exited the final train from the 12th ward to the 23rd, taking a deep breath to psyche himself up.

“And each irregular victim… opposed the Washuu family in some way.”

He wrung his hands as he navigated the dark alley once again. Nothing happened, but the fear of the unknown clung to his brain like a tumor, whispering terrible falsities and sapping his confidence with each step in the shadows.

“Some were part of a different political party, others voted against this bill or that… The list goes on.”

Two in the morning, late autumn. Cochlea. Again.

He stood inches away from the gated fence, feeling a little chillier than the last time he was here. Funnily enough, he’d arrived first again.

The distant sounds of cars rushing down the streets made him flinch, and the occasional flicker of a light tricked Haise into thinking someone else was there. Fictional horror was one thing, but the real deal? He would rather not.

And yet he and Hide could very well be sitting on one of the largest conspiracies in recent times. The Washuu Task Force, working with the likes of Donato Porpora? If the Priest himself was in on it, then who else could be in their circle?

He looked past the fence and at the square towers making up the prison, at the possibility of answers.

Sen had to already know. It only made perfect sense; the reason she didn’t have anything on her record was because the Washuu Task Force deemed it so. And if they were working with Donato, then it followed that he had to play by their rules, no matter what. Even if it meant Cochlea for life. After all, one man against an entire organization? Laughable, from all angles.

Haise considered jumping the fence early and entering the visitors’ center to get shelter from the cold. He could always text her, right? Right. Plan in place, he fished out his phone, found her name in his contacts, and—

“Breaking into a high security prison all by yourself, handsome?”

He looked up, and smiled; there, leaning against the corner of the alleyway, was the woman of the hour.

Another outing, another hairstyle: two thick braids, messy and tangled, on either side of her head, tied at the end with pink ribbons. She wore a matching scarf decorated with a tiger lily pattern, a striped blue sweater over a purple shirt, and her favorite choice of black skirt, tights, and flats.

“Well?” Sen stepped further into the light, presenting herself further. “What do you think?”

He let himself admire her for a bit longer before he responded. “Do I have to say?”

“Yes.” She smiled. “I like hearing you say it.”

He couldn’t help but chuckle; who was he to deny her? He said the same thing he always said: “Beautiful.”

It was a word often used to describe her, but it was too often spoken by shallow tongues that hadn’t bothered to understand why. Some may have read her books, but they were just that to them: books. Selfish entertainment with little else to offer.

So when he called Sen beautiful, and when she preened, Haise’s chest swelled with pride. However, her hunger wasn’t sated yet. “How?” she asked, stepping closer.

Her scarf was within reach, and he threaded the ends through his fingers. It was a soft material, and he appreciated the pattern. “Like a pink sunrise, greeting a field of flowers.”

Now her body was pressed against his. “And what else?”

His other hand trailed over her arm, brushing her sweater. “The ocean, its waves calmly lapping against the shore.”

A hum as she thumbed his hand. “So I’m a field of flowers, blooming by the oceanside as the sun rises.”

He kissed her knuckle. “And more.”

Now she giggled. “Charmer.”

Despite that, how he wished his description did her justice. No amount of flowers or fields or views could truly describe what he thought of her, even if she basked in them.

In the distance, a car streaked against the asphalt, jolting him back to reality. “W-We should get inside!”

She pouted as Haise scaled the fence, but said nothing in protest. After he landed on the other side, he expected her to drop next to him. However, when he glanced up, he saw her perched at the apex instead, her legs dangling over the edge with a mischievous grin on her face.

“Sen…” he said, trying to sound threatening.

Unfortunately, he was apparently as scary to Sen as a small poodle. To add insult to injury, she only seemed encouraged by his feeble resistance. “Oh, don’t be such a killjoy.”

“We’re not doing this; you could get hurt!” Haise’s gaze darted about the lot. “Plus, we could get caught!”

“What if I say ‘please’?”

He ground his teeth together. The compliments were one thing— they had been on the other, safe side of the fence— but this was too much. “Sen, I’m serious.”

“Pretty please?” She tilted her head until it was almost parallel to the fence. “With chocolate sprinkles and a cherry on top?”

That sounded way too sweet, but she made her stance clear: she was going to drag this out. She was going to drag this out, and wait until he caved, or until he convinced her otherwise. Right here, right now, in Cochlea. Where anyone could see him, where anyone could see her. She was risking her entire reputation for what amounted to a stupid joke.

Haise looked at her again. She had thrown her head back, taking in the night sky and smelling the air. Her two braids slipped over her shoulders, fully exposing her neck to the light of the streetlamp, the stars, and a crescent moon. A slight breeze pushed her skirt against one of her legs, and she let it affect her ever so slightly.

“Wow…” The word fell out of his mouth before he could stop himself.

“Hm?” She glanced back down, all traces of mischief replaced with curiosity. “What was that?”

He blinked, then chuckled. “Nothing.” He held out his arms, folding like paper. “Ready.”

Sen turned brighter than the stars. “Yay!”

In one swift motion, she tossed herself off the fence and landed safely in his grasp, bridal style. She wrapped her arms around his neck and nuzzled into it.

“See? Totally safe.” The warmth of her breath brushed his skin.

He let out a high noise resembling a laugh. 

She craned her neck to kiss him. He indulged in the pressure of contact briefly, and in any other situation, he might have leaned in further, felt closer to her. However, the nearest light flickered off for a split second, and a distant car zoomed past, making him jolt back.

“C-C’mon,” he said. “Big Bin’s waiting for us.”

“Aw…” Sen pouted again.

“I-I just don’t want us getting caught!” Haise put her down as gently as he could, then walked toward the visitors’ center.

“Why?” She stayed in his vision, grinning. “Because it’s ‘wrong’?”

“N-No!”

“Because it’s against social customs to flirt in a prison lot?”

“Well, uh—”

“Oh, I get it. It’s not about the law; you just don’t like getting in trouble.” A giggle. “You’d do all sorts of messed up things if it meant you didn’t have to face the consequences.”

As she said that, she slyly traced the shape of his back, lingering on the base of his spine.

“I-I don’t know what you mean,” Haise stuttered, even as a few scenarios cropped up in his mind like weeds.

Her hand slithered into his grasp. “We can always—” she yanked him down to her height and whispered into his ear— “experiment, if you’d like.”

Images of blindfolds, shower walls, and a concerning amount of rope flashed across his mind, and he would have spit out his drink if he had one. “I-I’m good!” he forced himself to squeak.

“Pity.” Sen punched in the code on the keypad, and she let them both in. “I’ve been wondering what sorts of twisted things you’ve been hiding from me, you know. You’re a horror artist, yet you’re so… demure. Surely there’s something I’m missing…”

He felt his palms grow sweaty as the earlier images became clearer. “O-One of us has to be, right? We balance each other out!”

“Do we now? Don’t you think there’s a bit of overlap?” She went ahead and ducked under a pipe, hands clasped behind her back. “You know, I distinctly remember a quote from Jung…”

“‘Th-The meeting of two personalities is like the contact of two chemical substances.’” Despite himself, Haise recited the quote from memory. “‘If there is any reaction, both are transformed.’”

“Exactly!” She held open the door for him. “I’m curious what sort of monstrous influence I’ve exerted on you.”

He paused. “You’re not a monster, Sen.”

She gave him a quizzical look as he put his palm above her head, holding the door in her stead. “You’re just saying that.”

“That… doesn’t make it less true.” He frowned.

For a moment, she held his gaze, then shook her head. “You have quite the twisted perspective, Mr. Sasaki, you know that?”

He sighed, but he was smiling. “I am a horror artist.”

She tutted, even as she squeezed his hand. He wondered if that was because of his influence on her. There was this spark of joy to her that wasn’t there before. It was hard to believe he could have such an effect, but the facts were staring him in the face.

As they walked down the last hall, Haise figured he’d mention something to her now. “Hey, Sen?”

“What’s up, Haise?”

“This weekend, there’s gonna be a get-together for my, uh, my friend.” Hide had organized it between their file hunt and tonight with Kimi and Nishiki.

She plucked something off Haise’s shoulder, seemingly uninterested. “Sounds nice.”

He felt the urge to explain. “H-Her sister’s the one that died recently. Torso’s latest victim.”

“Ah… Wait.” She stopped in her tracks and looked at him. “Nashiro Yasuhisa?”

He nodded.

There was another pause. “Small world, then. I didn’t think you knew a Yasuhisa, of all people. Strange.”

Haise thought about it. He supposed it was a little strange. The Yasuhisas, once upon a time, were extremely rich and influential, and he, most certainly, was not. “A-Anyway, I was hoping you would come with me. As support?”

Sen raised her brow. “Not exactly a resort vacation, is it?”

He chuckled. What nostalgic territory. One of them, inviting the other to meet their friends, during a Cochlea visit. “W-Well, I mean, I don’t want to force you to meet my friends, especially under the, uh, the shadow of death, haha!” He cleared his throat. “Forget I asked. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. Sorry.”

“Hey, I didn’t say no!” She elbowed him gently. “I’d be happy to go. Honestly, it’s a bit overdue.”

“I guess so.” He rubbed his neck. “Thanks…”

Big Bin was at the desk, scribbling something on a piece of paper when they approached. He looked up and grinned. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t my two favorite lovebirds.”

Haise and Sen flushed the shade of red. Despite her earlier teasing, it looked like she was still embarrassed when it came to her friends.

“Oh, you even look the same; that’s adorable.” Big Bin chuckled.

“Yes, yes, we’re a circus and you’re the audience. Incredible, whoopee.” Sen waved him off. “Is everything ready?”

Big Bin typed something on the nearby computer. “Yes, ma’am. One visit to Shachi, coming right up.”

“‘Shachi’?” Haise couldn’t help but ask.

Big Bin raised a brow. “Sen, you gotta stop keeping your boyfriend out of the loop with this.”

“Ugh, but not knowing is half the fun!” she whined. “It gives a mysterious allure to it, don’t you agree, Haise?”

Haise scratched his cheek. “Yeah, a bit…”

Big Bin let out a mirthful sigh. “A match made in heaven. Anyways, his real name’s Matasaka Kamishiro.”

As with all Cochlea visits thus far, Haise blanched. “K-Kamishiro…?”

“You know him?” Sen turned.

It… No, it couldn’t be. That was way too much of a coincidence. “I-I’m sure it’s not the same…” he said, more to convince himself than anything. “I know— knew a Kamishiro, but, er…”

“Lots of people under Shachi took the Kamishiro name at his behest,” Big Bin said. “He was imprisoned for housing illegal immigrants, you see, and he let them use his surname in order to start securing permanent citizenships. Rumor has it that he did the same, and that ‘Kamishiro’ isn’t even his real name.”

“I-I see…” If that was true, then who in the world had approached him in Anteiku all those years ago? “That, uh, that would be something…”

Sen was studying his expression, but instead of saying something like she usually did, she nudged him out of it by linking their arms. “We shouldn’t overstay our welcome. Come on.”

However, it was a short-lived oddity. As soon as Big Bin pointed them in the right direction and they were alone, she stepped in front of him.

“You okay?” she asked, those jade irises of hers scanning Haise’s face.

He cupped his chin, rubbing the area. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine…”

She grabbed his wrist with a huff, waggling it in front of him. “Has anyone ever told you you’re a terrible liar?”

He blinked and shook his head.

“Well, you are, so talk to me.” She gripped either one of his arms, setting him straight. “Shachi’s not as cruel as Donato, but I’d prefer it if you were put together before we meet him.”

Haise pursed his lips, and relented. “It’s… about the Kamishiro I knew— I know.”

“I figured as much.” Because Sen was amazing like that.

“Her name was Rize,” he continued. “It was a few days after The Black Goat’s Egg released, and I… I’d always been, um…”

He trailed off. Should he really be talking about his ex in front of his new girlfriend? That felt super wrong, not to mention insensitive. 

“You were into her,” Sen finished for him. “So, at the resort, when you pushed me… That was because of her?”

He bit his lip, and nodded slowly. “Yes. It was. She… disappeared four years ago. Just left me. And— And I remember, when it happened, wondering if, despite everything she did to me, if it was my fault.”

Sen didn’t say anything— she simply stood on her tippy toes, pressed her lips against his, then embraced him. At the end of the day, she was a woman of action, and speech was a waste of time.

Not only that, but he knew that she understood what it was like to be left. To be like a toy abandoned by a child who had outgrown them, or worse, had grown bored of them. It wasn’t the fact that they left; it was the crushing loneliness and darkness immediately following that stuck out the most. The creation of a new void in your heart that would never go away, no matter what was filled in its place.

“Come on,” she said, pulling Haise down the hall.

But the spectacle could certainly be beautiful.

—

“You know, Shachi used to work at the Furuta Corporation.” Sen filled the air with trivia. “He was pretty up there until he was caught.”

“That’s… u-unfortunate.” Haise couldn’t really think of another word.

“Not really. In his attempt to retain both his standing in a greedy corporation and the respect he’d gained by bypassing laws, he ended up losing both.” She shrugged. “When you plant a sapling in a forest, it’ll never get the sun it needs to flourish. Better to place it on the outside.”

That was certainly one way of looking at it. Double agents had to perform a balancing act between their opposing factions, and to lose one would be to lose the other. Not only that, but there was always a secret dividing them from their fellows, keeping them from forming truly meaningful relationships. Still—

“If he was… ‘up there’, then wouldn’t his access to otherwise restricted content help?” If Haise remembered correctly, the Furuta Corporation was an airway company. If Shachi played his cards right, he could smuggle people using their planes. In fact, in some respects, his standing might even be necessary for success.

“True, but does it attack the root problem of illegal immigration in the first place?” Sen countered. “Think big: Does it help solve why people feel the need to cross the border illegally? Does it improve their chances at a stable life wherever they go?”

Haise offered no rebuttal, letting her continue.

“Manipulating systems in order to achieve the opposite has its place, but it isn’t a sustainable model; there will always be a breaking point, and people will always get caught one way or another.”

They rounded a corner.

“Shachi was first discovered about six years ago with a handful of illegals, some of them high-profile criminals in their home countries. Do you know how quickly he was caught after attempting to go into hiding?”

Haise shook his head.

“Two weeks.” They arrived at the door. “Meanwhile, the Torso’s run rampant for ten years. Strange, huh?”

“Strange…” he repeated.

Very strange, actually. Was Shachi just terrible at hiding? No, he had to have known the risks of being caught. He would have had reserve funds, as well as loyal allies who could help him, when the going got rough. Yet the Task Force captured, detained, and imprisoned him.

How?

Sen gripped the door handle. “Ready, Haise?”

He gulped. “Ready…”

Giving his hand a squeeze, she opened the door.

The first thing Haise noticed, even from a distance, was just how large Shachi was. He was a mountain towering over his and Sen’s hills, with rippling muscles and a full beard reaching his diaphragm. And that was when he was sitting down.

What in the world did a Cochlea inmate like him eat?

“Hi, Shachi!” Sen waved as if she were greeting an old friend and not a man who could probably break her like a toothpick. “Thanks for letting us see you tonight.”

“Sen,” he said in a deep and powerful voice. It made Haise want to shrink into his shirt. “Who is the boy?”

“This is Haise Sasaki, my—” she paused to think of a word— “partner.”

Haise appreciated the double meaning. He would rather not be redder than a tomato in front of a life-sentenced inmate, even if said inmate wasn’t another serial killer.

“We’re writing a story together, you see, and are looking for some last-minute primary sources, namely—” Sen slid into her seat and pulled out her notebook and pen— “you.”

“Hm.” Shachi’s gaze fell onto Haise.

Haise bowed his head slightly. “It’s, um… nice to meet you, Mr. Kami— Mr. Shachi…”

Shachi scrutinized Haise, raising the hairs at the back of Haise’s neck. It was like being analyzed beneath a microscope, where every single movement, down to his breathing, was observed and recorded for an unknowable purpose.

“And what will you do with the information I give you?” Shachi asked.

A smile slowly stretched across Sen’s face. “Do you enjoy prison life, Shachi? From what the Priest told me, it’s two meals and an hour of exercise every day. Sounds tedious and restricting, if you ask me. I’d go crazy, personally.”

His eyes narrowed, and Haise swallowed.

“Nothing to say for yourself? The Task Force must be so proud of themselves, cowing the great Orca…” She tapped her pen against her knee with her chin in her hand. “You were quite the stubborn one back in your heyday, as I was told. Struggling against your ever-oppressive fellows and being thwarted at every turn! Yet you dug your heels in for such a valiant cause, and at the end of it all… changed absolutely nothing!”

“Er, Sen, shouldn’t we—” Haise tried to intervene. She was getting too personal with this. And off-track.

She cut him off. “The only change you were able to effect was when you decided to operate outside of those systems. When you abandoned the structure and worked on your own terms, your own choices, your actions bore fruit.”

“S-Sen…!” Haise tried again, but she didn’t even seem to hear him.

Shachi simply folded his arms. “So your goal is reformation, then.”

She snickered. “Would that I were so noble and shrewd, Mr. Kamishiro! I’m an author of horror and tragedy, unfortunately— my specialty is destruction, not creation. I’m simply a harbinger of the chaos that’s gone ignored at the door for far too long.”

Now Haise was just lost. “Um, what are you talking about, Sen?”

Shachi’s eyes narrowed again. “You brought the boy here and told him nothing?”

Another secret. Considering where they were, Haise couldn’t blame her. Sen was just a woman of many secrets, and those secrets were uniquely dangerous. She wouldn’t reveal them to just anyone.

“I’d rather he hear it from a primary source,” she explained.

Shachi paused, then gave her an amused look. “Rather unlike you, Sen.”

She rolled her eyes, slightly pink. “I guess.”

The mountain of a man chuckled. The sound reverberated about the room like a small tremor. “So you trust him.”

Sen took a breath, then gripped Haise’s hand, making him flinch. “I do,” she said.

The sight made the man’s lip curl upward, and his hardened gaze turned soft, almost like velvet. “I see.” He took a deep breath, exhaling through his nostrils. “Regardless— boy.”

“Y-Yes?” Haise looked up.

“You may have come this far, but it is difficult to turn from knowledge once one has obtained it.” Shachi’s intimidating aura settled in again. “To learn is to risk your view of the world. To change it irrevocably, and possibly endanger you. Are you prepared?”

To ask such a question was… almost ridiculous, frankly. Haise had broken into Cochlea twice, and even disregarding that, he had also obtained classified criminal files and knew people who were able to get such things within hours of asking. His view of the world had already been compromised; whatever awaited him could hardly be worse.

And… he had a feeling he already knew what was going to be said. He’d been drawing a story about it for nearly six months, thanks to a quick nap in a coffee shop.

“I-I’m ready.” He squeezed Sen’s hand for confidence.

It seemed to satisfy Shachi. “Very well.” He sat up in his seat, letting out a breath. “What do you know about the Washuu?”

The name that continued to crop up. “Well… they’re a private investigative company founded under Allied supervision while they occupied Japan post-World War II,” Haise said, recalling what he knew from a research session. “They were considered traitors at first: some people even called them dogs under the heel of Western interests. However, their purpose— to solve crimes that traditional police couldn’t— kept bearing fruit, and they’ve become widely respected as a result.

“That said… they could have connections to Donato Porpora.”

Shachi’s expression shifted to something like amusement. “You know much already, it seems.”

Haise rubbed his chin. “I-I, uh, had a, um… personal interest in Donato’s arrest.”

Sen, who had pulled out a book to read, smiled to herself. “He’s a resourceful one,” she said, turning a page. “I was impressed by how much he figured out on his own.”

He beamed at her approval.

Shachi hummed. “I see. And how did you come across this information?”

She glanced up momentarily, the way she did when she pretended to be uninterested in something.

“Er, I’d rather not say…” Haise said. “Sorry…”

“Think nothing of it.” Shachi folded his arms. “It is as you say. The Washuu Task Force— rather, the Washuu themselves— have directly collaborated with the Priest, as well as countless other criminals— including the Torso— in order to achieve their goal of continued dominance and wealth.”

Haise felt his blood run cold. If that was the case, then both Mr. Yasuhisa and Nashiro had both been victims of the Washuu’s connections.

“The Task Force is not alone, however. There are others with similar connections, and they operate under a single roof,” Shachi continued. Furuta, Ihei, Arima—”

Sen tensed.

“— Kaiko, Souzu, Sanzu—”

“S-Sanzu?” Haise blurted out. “Like… Like the Sanzu General Hospital?”

“The very same.”

That was where Ryouko had been placed.

Haise didn’t see Sen quietly closing her book to look at him.

“Together, they are an organization that pretends to be a friend to the everyday individual, when they are orchestrators of their suffering,” Shachi said.

The Sanzu General Hospital had forced Ryouko to choose to live and burden Hina, or die and deprive her of her last parent. For something as asinine as money.

“Hope is just a tool, a fire, to them. It can warm hearts, and can inspire or reinforce loyalty. However, if that hope becomes a blaze, becomes too strong—”

They hadn’t tried to save Ryouko.

“— they will create reminders of despair.”

They had killed her.

“They are V.”

———

“Self-proclaimed ‘kings’ of law, moderators of murkiness— whatever you wanna call them. To line their pockets and play God, they’ll do anything— kill anyone.”

— from the draft of Sen Takatsuki’s ninth work, The Folly of the Hierophants

[pashterlengkap]

Sen. Dallas Harris is a martial arts master who co-founded Nevada’s LGBTQ+ caucus

Nevada State Sen. Dallas Harris (D), 38, represents District 11 in Clark County and parts of Las Vegas. She serves as chief majority whip in the Nevada State Senate and is one of only four out LGBTQ+ lawmakers in the legislature. She was appointed to the seat in 2018 and won a four-year term in 2020. She��s running for reelection in 2024. Related: State treasurer Erick Russell is making history… and helping you get free money Erick Russell is the first out gay Black man to be elected and serve in statewide office, and he told us about all he’s doing to help people. Harris is a Las Vegas native and earned her JD at George Washington University Law School in Washington, D.C. in 2005. As an attorney with Nevada’s Public Utilities Commission for several years, Harris gained experience under the hood with state government. As well, she’s a pro-bono attorney with the Adult Guardianship Project at the Legal Aid Center of Southern Nevada.  Your LGBTQ+ guide to Election 2024 Stay ahead of the 2024 Election with our daily newsletter that covers candidates, issues, and perspectives that matter. Harris spoke with me from her district office in Las Vegas, in a mall southwest of the Strip. She was dressed casually in a grey crew neck sweater, where long dreads — new for Harris after years of short hair — rested around her shoulders. LGBTQ Nation: Last May, you and another lawmaker founded the Nevada Legislature LGBTQ+ Caucus. What are three bills that you want to either see get passed or make sure they never see the light of day? Dallas Harris: Yes. Okay, let’s start with “never see the light of day” because I think there are too many to count across the country right now in that category. So in Douglas County, that’s a county here in Nevada that’s a bit more conservative than, let’s say, some of our more populous counties, we’ve seen some attempts to limit the sports that children can play, as little as elementary school. Those are things that I want to make sure we do not see here in Nevada on a statewide level. Let’s just be like the anti-Florida. That would be great. As far as things that I want to see get done, one thing we did last year that was awesome — but the governor, for some reason, vetoed it — was we had a bill that would take away the gun rights of folks who had committed violent hate crimes. So, you were already convicted of a violent crime, demonstrating some bias against someone, and we’re saying, we’re going to take your guns away. We’d have a cooling off period. And the governor vetoed it, so we’re gonna bring that back. That’s Republican governor Joe Lombardo. What was his reasoning? We can speculate. Politics, virtue signaling to his base. I think that he cares more about that than us. What is a biennium, and had you ever heard that word before you joined the Nevada legislature? (laughing) It is the two-year period of the Nevada legislative session, and no, why would anybody use that term? One of your legislative priorities is education, and you’ve been instrumental in increasing funding for K-12 students in Nevada. Who has been the more formidable opponent, Republican lawmakers or parents’ rights groups? Ooooh. Republican lawmakers, for sure. They’re the gatekeepers, right? They are the ones that have the right to vote up or down, any way they want, regardless of what I or a parents’ rights group pushes them to do. They’re the ultimate hurdle. At the end of the day, the buck stops with them for sure. Do you think groups like Moms for Liberty or Libs of TikTok have had any influence on them? I think they’ve done immeasurable amounts of damage to children across the country who are just discovering themselves and are now growing up in environments that could have been welcoming and open but instead are now very much closed and dark and look just like that metaphorical closet that we talked about coming out of. You’ve talked about… http://dlvr.it/T3GKNl

[foundfamilyeric]

For the sweater contest (a event later chapter)

I'll do a poll and based on the votes will affect that chapter

But I have to get done with drawing the bills first so till then y'all gotta wait XD

A utmv Christmas party x Bill cipher project: Merry Mayhem with Bills

The progress so far ‼️‼️‼️

Main project page

[anon-karasu]

Winter Moments — Mammon

Day Two of K’rasu’s Christmas Advent

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Summary: Mc becomes worried when they notice Mammon’s absence following a conversation about Christmas traditions in the human world.

Category: Gen

Language: English

Rating: General Audiences

Relationships: Mammon & Main Character, Mammon & Reader, Mammon & You

Characters: Mammon, Main Character

Additional Tags: Satan (briefly), Asmodeus (briefly), Beelzebub (briefly), Belphegor (briefly), mentions of Christmas/ Christmas traditions, advent, advent calendar, worried MC, gender not specified for MC, they/ them pronouns used for MC, MC has no name, no Beta, Day Two of Anon-K’rasu’s Christmas Advent

Click Here for Series Masterlist

Winter Moments — Mammon

Day Two of K’rasu’s Winter Advent

“... Christmas trees, carolling, making decorations, stockings, yule logs, movies…” Belphie listed them off on his fingers.

“They also said nativity plays, exchanging cards, eggnog, and gingerbread houses.” Asmo continued the list with an excitable nod. “Oh! And giving gifts, of course!”

“What was the difference between Santa Claus and secret Santa again?” Beel mused aloud in a thoughtful voice.

“Are ugly sweaters really a tradition in the human world?” Satan asked curiously.

“Humans have this many traditions just for Christmas, huh?” Mammon said with a thoughtful hum.

“Oh!” A thought suddenly crossed your mind, “I forgot about advent calendars!”

You were met with five blank stares.

“What’s an advent calendar?” Mammon asked.

“It’s a calendar that’s used to countdown the twenty-four days until Christmas from the first of December,” you explained, “you open one door each day and receive gift, usually it’s just a piece of chocolate or a small toy, but nowadays the gifts inside advent calendars vary depending on which company makes them.”

You glanced at each of the demons only to see their confusion deepen.

“Some companies will offer advent calendars that contain stuff like perfume or candles, depending on how expensive the calendar is.” You elaborated. “And some even only have twelve doors rather than twenty-four.”

“So whoever has an advent calendar gets a present everyday for twenty-four days?” Mammon murmured to himself with an awed expression. “Man, humans are real lucky.”

“There’s loads of other traditions too,” you steered the conversation back to its original topic again, “how about we write our list down and then vote on which human world traditions you guys want to try? We can get Lucifer and Levi to vote too…”

In the days after your discussion about Christmas traditions with the brothers, you noticed that Mammon spent less time at the House of Lamentation and was quick to leave RAD after classes, even going as far as chancing Lucifer’s fury and skipping out on student council duties and meetings.

You soon found yourself staring at Mammon’s empty seat at the dinner table during mealtimes while a worrying thought began to surface in your mind.

“Mammon’s absent again?” Asmo pointed out as his eyes followed your gaze to the vacant seat.

“He’s been doing shifts at Hell’s Kitchen in the evenings nearly every day this week,” Beel said.

“Hell’s Kitchen?” Levi blinked at his younger brother with a confused expression. “I saw him working in Electric Demon after RAD this week.”

“I swear he was working on the checkout at Devilmart when it was my turn to do grocery shopping yesterday,” Asmo murmured to himself.

“I’ve heard that he’s been picking up consecutive shifts all over the Devildom,” Satan said as he shook his head with a sigh, “and he hasn’t been coming home until late at night. He must’ve ran himself into debt again and he’s trying to pay it off before the bills fall into Lucifer’s hands.”

“Don’t look so worried,” Asmo chuckled as his eyes returned to you, “Mammon’s doing stuff like this all the time, I’m sure he’s fine.”

You tried to push your worrisome thoughts to the back of your mind as you set aside a meal for the second-born demon and tried to turn your attention towards your RAD homework instead, but you couldn’t help growing more concerned as the hours ticked away and Mammon still had yet to return home.

Later that night, you gave his bedroom door a soft knock and peered inside, only to frown when you found that the room was dark and vacant before you closed the door again and headed back to your own room where you found yourself listlessly checking the time on your D.D.D every so often before you eventually drifted off into an uneasy sleep.

“Hey, Mc.”

You woke up to the sound of a whispered voice and someone gently shaking your shoulder.

“Wake up for a sec, will ya?”

“Mammon?” You asked in a groggy voice as you slowly propped yourself up on your pillows and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. “What time is it?”

“It’s about half past twelve.”

“In the morning?” You yawned as you felt around your bed for your D.D.D.

When you finally located the device, you pressed the wake button and turned your unfocused gaze towards the homescreen, you recoiled slightly as the brightness of the D.D.D screen made your eyes sting and squinted while you waited for your eyes to adjust before you tried to look at the screen again.

00:38

Tuesday 13th December

“Have you just got home?” You asked as you became more aware of your surroundings and turned your attention towards the Avatar of Greed with a frown.

“I got home not long ago,” Mammon nodded earnestly, “I was gonna wait until morning, but I wanted to give ya this as soon as I could!”

Mammon held out a handmade advent calendar.

Mammon watched you with a tentative expression as you took the calendar into your own hands to inspect it closely before you found the first door and opened it to find a slip of paper inside.

You carefully unravelled the slip of paper to find a note scrawled across it in Mammon’s handwriting that read:

A candlelit dinner with the great Mammon at Ristorante Six

You stared down at the words written across the paper.

“There’s a different surprise just for you written on a note behind each door,” Mammon’s voice pulled you from your stupor, “some of them are gifts and some of them are… well… you get the idea…” he let his sentence trail off as he averted his eyes and a deep blush crossed his cheeks.

You felt your eyes widened as realisation dawned upon you, “wait, so all of those shifts you’ve been working—?”

“Yeah…” Mammon nodded sheepishly as he ruffled his hair nervously and refused to meet your gaze, “...I wanted to treat ya to summin’ special. I know this calendar only has twelve doors, so…” he paused for a moment before he forced his eyes to meet yours and continued, “let’s celebrate the full twenty-four days together next year, okay?”

You felt a smile spread across your face as you nodded at the demon.

“I bet ya don’t get advent calendars like this in the human world,” the demon returned your smile with his usual grin but the blush that still tinted his cheeks gave him away, “so… uh… what d’ya think?”

[ramp-it-up]

Mr. Evans

Pairing: Chris Evans x Black Reader

#AFBHBratChallenge Song: Throwback x Usher

Summary: You call off your wedding with just days to go. Is Mr. Evans going to be able to get you back?

Warnings: 18+ Only, Minors DNI. RPF.  Read at your own risk. 

Anxiety, ANGST, love, fluff, drinking, cursing, strip clubs, flashbacks, politics, pink, SMUT, graphic sex, rough sex, a bit of degredation kink (name calling), squirting, a little breeding kink, sorta kinda dom!Chris, Princess behavior.

A/N: This is my first Chris Evans fic and it is for @afriendlyblackhottie ‘s Brat Challenge, #afbhbratchallenge. Ahhhhh! It feels weird venturing out, but I enjoyed it!  I hope you like it and I hope it stands up among all the great CE writers out here.

-----------------------

You never miss a good thing 'til it leaves you. 

Drinking helped ease the anxiety and stress. Normally, he staunched it with meditation, or better yet, a good dose of you, but you weren’t around. And you said you weren’t coming back.

Chris leaned on the bar in Onyx, his boys wondering where he was. They’d arrived there from The Gentlemen’s Club an hour before he went to drink this third round of Buchanan’s. The bartender recognized him, sure, but she pretended she didn’t. And for that, she got a $20 bill for each drink she poured him. 

Chris checked his phone and didn’t see a response from you. Any other messages didn't matter. Memories came back, and he let them, wanting to feel how happy you’d made him.

“You’re gonna want me back.” Those were some of the last words you said to him. Now he was wishing you were here with him.

2 years earlier

After graduating from Spelman, you’d spent 6 years in DC as a congressional staffer for various Georgia representatives and eventually Senator Abrams before she resigned to run for President. 

You’d been raised the only girl child of a prominent Atlanta family, and of course, you were a princess. Apart from being highly intelligent, you had a penchant for pink and designer everything. 

Stacey was the one that called you the ‘Black Elle Woods’ when you first met. You retorted that Elle Woods was the white version of you, and in that moment, you became her ace. No matter how much you loved Stacey, however, you were not cut out for the campaign trail, so you did something new.

You became a Ph.D candidate at Howard University in Political Science, and you were  interviewing various notable figures about the intersection between the entertainment industry and voting rights access.  You watched many celebrities hold sway over public policy, especially voter awareness and voting rights, and you thought that their influence needed to be highlighted.

Chris Evans was in DC to speak to some members of Congress for A Starting Point, and you’d managed to score an interview for your dissertation research through your connection with Scott Evans.  He was a friend of a friend, and Chris agreed to meet you at Emissary in Dupont Circle.

You didn’t particularly perk up when you saw Captain America: The First Avenger ten years ago when you were 17. Even though your friends thought Chris was hot, you just weren’t that into what you saw on screen. From what you’d seen over the years in photos, you did not expect to be impressed.

You arrived at Emissary early and waited, getting annoyed as 5pm came and went. Late people ticked you off. Your time was valuable.

At 5:17, Chris entered the cafe, looking worn and wary. You spotted him immediately and did a double take before he located you. 

He didn’t know what you looked like, and you took the opportunity to check him out.  When he locked eyes with you across the crowded cafe, he seemed to straighten up and a smile brightened up his face.

Your ire evaporated. Holy shit, Chris Evans was hot.

You were quite the sight yourself, in a pink sweater and grey skirt, Manolo heels, and lots of hair piled up on your head. You were standing in the archway into the back room, holding a pink iphone in a bejeweled case with a hot pink Birkin bag on your elbow. 

Could this be his meeting? You weren't the plain academic he’d imagined when he agreed to meet with you. Chris hoped that you were here for him. The look on your face went beyond recognition. You had to be who he was looking for.

He walked over to you and said your name like a question. You smiled at him.  He was done for. 

Your big brown eyes gazed up at him and all he wanted was to have you look at him like that forever. Wow.

“Yes, that’s me. Nice to meet you Mr. Evans.”  You smiled. 

His large hand encased yours and you couldn’t help but notice his thick fingers and strong grip.

Chris’ smile was an experience, from the full flash of teeth to cheeky smirk, and you found out that you were a fan. 

Close up, Chris was even more attractive.  His dark hair and beard shone with red highlights, and his pink, plump lips were perfect as his tongue darted out to wet them.  And his eyes. Holy moly.

“I scored a couch in this more private room, so we can talk. It shouldn’t take more than 30 to 45 minutes.”

“Call me Chris. And you have me as long as you want.” That, along with his sexy ass raised eyebrow, seemed like an invitation.

The timbre of his voice was deeper than you thought it would be in person, and was shaking you to your core. His touch had made the nerves in your spine tingle and you moved carefully, because your knees were weak.

You checked out his grey pinstripe suit as he unbuttoned his jacket and sat beside you. The tailoring was immaculate. He ran his hand through his hair and slung his arm across the back of the couch, stretching his long legs out in front of him, his feet huge in Italian leather shoes. 

He was bigger than you, and feeling tiny beside him was the shit. But you stopped your mind from going there.

He was unwinding from a long day and you had the urge to brush the hair that had fallen into his face out of his eyes.  Those clear blues sparkled at you as you admired him. It was a good thing that you had sworn off pretty boys for Lent.

Chris just smiled while you stared at him and the server arrived. He didn’t know what to think. You looked annoyed, and you were, because your pussy was getting wet. He ordered a beer and you ordered coffee with three cream, no sugar.

“You drinking coffee this late? Isn’t it time to unwind?”  

He peered at you as he took his beer and sipped it.  You sipped your coffee from a blue stoneware cup.  You snuck a peek at the way his jacket strained against his biceps as he took another drink.  

You didn’t dare move your eyes any lower, because ain’t nobody had time for that.  You sat up, spine straight, signaling to yourself to be professional.  You replied to his query. 

“I have miles to go before I sleep, Mr. Evans.  I’ll be up writing for a while yet.”  You smiled tightly as you took another sip of your hot coffee.  Chris shook his head and chuckled at you. “You can call me Chris.” He could fix your attitude. If you’d let him.

You felt it, but you just dug into the interview questions, shaking yourself out of your imaginings.

Three hours later, Chris’s jacket was off, his sleeves rolled up and your heels kicked off and feet tucked beneath you on the couch. You’d ordered some food and two beers yourself.  

The conversation had been top tier. You had some very astute questions, and he offered some valuable insights. 

Chris was almost breathless at the intellectual stimulation. And he found himself unreasonably attracted to you. The fact that your nipples were pointed right at him through your soft blush colored sweater when you sat up on your knees had him silently practicing every prayer he had memorized to keep his eyes appropriately on your face when you spoke.  

And your face was a marvel. Perfection sculpted in bronze, framed with your lush curls. And your voice was so damn cute. 

As he was admiring you, you noticed the time. “Oh, my.  It’s past 9.  I’d set a schedule to draft this interview out tonight.”  You were pained to have to shut this down.

All Chris could do was smile wistfully in response to you ending your time together.  He wanted to talk to you forever. 

When you stood up Chris witnessed the perfection of your ass in the grey pencil skirt. Your heels supported the sexiest ankle, and the most beautiful calf and flash of thigh he’d ever seen through the slit in your skirt. 

He stood up with you, snatching the check away from you when you grabbed it.  He was a good 6 inches taller than you were, even in heels.  You looked up at him through your lashes, batting them up up at him. His heart stopped.

You shook your head, “Mr. Evans. You did me a favor by meeting me.  It’s only right that I pick up the check.”

Chris debated being an ass or letting you pay. For some reason, he wanted to spoil a person he’d known for mere hours. “Call me Chris!” he groaned.  

He was so cute and sexy. You giggled and shook your head no. Somehow he loved your stubbornness.

“I’ll tell you what,” he continued.  “I’ll let you pay if you agree to meet me tomorrow for lunch.”  

“Mr….I mean, Chris. I….”  You could not for your life think of a reason to turn him down. He took advantage of your loss for words.

“We can finish the conversation. It’s for science. Political Science.” You laughed and agreed, setting  up a time to meet and exchanging information. ‘Score,’ thought Chris, silently.

You didn’t try to linger over goodbyes despite what your body was screaming, you just packed up your stuff and tried to keep it moving. You headed out of the cafe, Chris on your heels.

You tried to get your mind right, but you turned around because you’d left your Smythson pen on the table. You couldn’t forget that. It was a graduation gift. But you almost forgot your own name because you bumped right into Chris. A brick wall.  

“Oh! I’m sorry!”

You crashed into his chest and as you put your hands up to brace yourself, you felt how solid his body was. Chris wasn’t Cap anymore, but damn, was he in shape. He brought his hands up to grab your arms to steady you, and you looked into his deep blue eyes as he asked if you were okay and to apologize.

Flustered looked good on you. Chris wanted to be the one to make you flustered, and more. He wanted to protect and ruin you all at the same time. 

You barely heard what he’d said; you were trying to compose yourself. Fuck your feelings. You were not going to fuck Chris Evans.  You had goals, and you were not about to end up on the receiving end of his rumored very big dick. 

You thought. 

You moved around him and walked back to the table as Chris stood still and watched. In that moment, watching you walk away from him, he made a decision.  He couldn't let you get far.

You made the mistake of looking back at him just once, as you went to get your pen. Chris was looking at you as if he owned you already, like he possessed every inch of your body. Your fate was sealed.  

Your body betrayed you as he watched you, and you employed the bend and snap to retrieve your pen, looking back at him over your shoulder.  

Chris allowed himself to go to a fantasy land where you were already his and smiled, licking his lips.  The way you snapped up and returned his stare, looking ready to be bent over the couch by him had him hard and ready to go.

Chris followed you out of the bar and that night, you found out that you had indeed thought wrong. 

The rest was history.

------

Now

Chris finished his drink and gathered his bachelor party mates to leave Onyx to travel to the next club. His boys were stoked, thinking he just wanted to get his fill of the sights before the wedding. 

They soon found out the real reason they were club hopping when they walked into the third joint, Diamonds and found your crew. Of course you’d be at Diamonds, it was the swankiest and had the most variety of entertainment. Only the best for you, Chris thought.

Scott shook head at Chris.

“You’re unbelievable,” he concluded, never taking his eyes off the stripper whose ass was in his face. He pulled his boyfriend over, because he had the ones. 

Chris ignored his brother and began to set his plan in motion.

-------------

11 Months Earlier

Your family was a lot. Especially your mother, the renowned heart surgeon, and your older brother, who owned several businesses in Atlanta. Mom was the Queen, Derrick was the Prince, and you were Princess.  You’d made it through relatively unscathed, except for your taste for the finer things. You didn’t get bratty. Much.

Derrick made both of you well aware of his disapproval of your relationship. Chris’s reputation as a fuckboy and the fact that he’d never seen him with a black woman before made your brother think this was just a phase. 

No one would be good enough for his sister, not even THE Chris Evans. But Chris stayed consistent despite that, and proposed with a huge 10 carat pillow princess cut ring in front of your family, after getting a reluctant approval from your mother for your hand in marriage.

Chris insisted on having your friends and family at your destination wedding. Especially your family. He wanted to prove to them that he was good enough for you. You had no doubt that he was.   You may have been your family’s princess, but Chris treated you like a queen. You had faith in him.

—————-

2 weeks earlier

It was 4 o’clock in the morning, two weeks away from your wedding. Chris sped home to Buckhead as fast as his Audi R8 Spyder would take him. He’d done 20 hours on set, filming some critical scenes in his latest project. He was tired and ticked off. 

The fact that this movie was set to film in Atlanta was an influence in Chris accepting this role. You two would be in the same city working for once. It made planning a wedding that much easier.         

You’d scored an Associate Professor position at Clark Atlanta University and were finally writing your book. You were now Dr. Princess. 

You traveled to DC about once a month as a consultant for President Abrams on matters of policy around voting rights and access. It was a good thing CNN was headquartered in the A, because you were a frequent guest on the weekend talk shows.

Although Chris definitely had his stans who felt some kinda way, you had your own.  Chris’ machine was big enough to shield your relationship without it being a secret, and your little army kept it real with his online. 

Chris had just three days filming left. When Chris left this morning, you agreed that you’d both be busy working. No funny business. There were to be no snaps of your ass, no close ups of his mouth, no nip pics, no photos of his crotch, no sexting of any kind. He was playing a priest for pete’s sake.

You agreed to be good. And you were for most of the day.

Until you grew weary of writing and decided to try on some of the goodies you got at your bridal shower. This one set looked so good on you that you decided to wear it to bed.  And then you just had to send him a video of you in it, a hot pink satin nightie with matching headwrap.  

You turned on Janet and danced, the hem hiked up to show off your gorgeous ass and matching satin thong.  Your nipples were hard and straining through the slick material.

“It’s all for you, Mr. Evans…” The camera captured the sensuous movement of your hips in the slinky slip. 

The blood rushed to Chris’ cock as he watched it. Now Father Micheal had a hard on, and Chris had to calm down for the last scene of the night.  His mind kept wandering to you and they had to do five different takes.

He was pissed.

By the time he got to the house, he’d calmed down with the thought that you would become his wife in less than two weeks. He was grinning when he let himself in.

Chris crept in the bedroom and saw you, a vision in hot pink.  The short nightie had ridden up and he could see the thong, which complimented your brown skin. He sighed and adjusted the covers back over you, kissing your forehead before taking a quick shower.  

In just a few minutes, he slipped under the sheets naked, spooning you, and being sure to pull your nightie up so that he could feel your luscious ass against him. He was going to feast on it in the morning.

Tomorrow was a big day. You and your crew were to go to the final dress fitting in New York, and then back to Atlanta the next day for your bachelors/bachelorette festivities. You would leave for St. Lucia next week and be wed a few days later. 

You stirred against him, waking up a little and smiling. 

“Hey, Baby.” You arched your back, wiggled your bottom, and settled in closer to him, sighing and happy that he was in bed with you.

Chirs grabbed your hip and smiled against your neck  “Hey, yourself. Go back to sleep.”  His dick woke up a little bit however, as it was situated perfectly between your satin covered cheeks.  

You tried to go back to sleep, but your heart rate increased as you felt his cock slowly pulse to life. The blood flowing through your veins rendered you totally awake. 

You could tell from the way Chris’ grip on your hip became imperceptibly tighter, how his cock kept growing, and from his measured breathing near your ear that he wasn’t asleep either. You were going to make it easy on him, despite his directive to go back to sleep.

You reached back and grabbed one of your ample cheeks, pulling your panties to the side, and pushed back on him wedging his cock lengthwise into your folds.  

Chris could feel your wetness leaking onto him. He had to close his eyes and open his mouth to breathe, blowing against your neck, which caused you to squirm, pushing him deeper into you. 

His pounding made your nipples hard and a whimper lodge in your throat. You could feel the heated ridge on the head that was aligned with your cunt. It was delicious torture from jump.

“Fuck, Sweetheart.  Go back to sleep, you’re gonna need to rest up for tomorrow.” His hand was definitely tighter on you now, and was definitely going to leave marks. The way his voice broke did things to you.

You grunted softly and started to move for some friction, causing his cock to slide through your folds, gathering your wetness and causing his breath to hitch in your ear. 

“Gat dam it. You never leave well enough alone.”

Boston was evident in his speech as he found your pulse point and started sucking, his hand moving slowly from your hip to your mound. His thick middle finger parted you there, and reached down to gather wetness with which to circle your clit. 

His other hand came under and around to play with your nipple through the satin, slipping and sliding his way through pinches and gropes.

You quickly realized that although you started this, Chris was going to finish it. His way.

“Christopher!”  All pretense was gone as you shuddered in his clutch.  

“Call me Mr. Evans.” His sexy growl and directive made you even wetter.  “What is it, Babe?”

You bit your lip and shook your head.

“No. no.  That won't do.  I need to hear you.”  Chris stopped all movement of his hips and hands. You whined and tried to move, when his hand pressed flat against your pelvis.

“I need. To hear. Your words.”  

You could tell that his teeth were gritted and that shit turned you on.  You felt his dick pulse again and you moved against him, still not speaking.

Chris slapped your clit, and then removed his hand causing you to whine and cry out. But you still didn’t speak.

“Ok. You asked for it.”  

Chris moved to kneel in front of you as he grabbed you, flipped you over like a rag doll and pushed you down on your back. You loved it. You watched his abs contract and the muscles in his thighs and you chose violence. He caught the look on your face. Brattiness personified.

“Or rather, you didn’t.”  He looked angry now, his eyes dark and focused on you.  “All you had to do was ask me nicely, but no. You wanna be treated like a random cockwhore?”  

He grabbed your satin bikini and broke the straps apart on each side, pulling and tossing the ruined garment behind him as he clutched your thighs and pulled them down to meet his knees on the bed.

He looked down at your glistening pussy, smirking at the way that you were wet for him. It was so beautiful, the dark lips glistening in the light from the window. He wanted to kiss them. 

“You like being called a whore? Does it make you cream?”  He looked up at you watching his dick bob, jaw slack from having to pant. He laughed.

“First you were a cock tease with that video you sent me earlier and now you’re being a filthy whore for my dick. Look at you staring. You want it?” 

You nodded. His eyes flashed and he grabbed you by the neck.

“I swear I'll have you begging before I’m through with you.” 

He squeezed your neck as he pushed into you, no warning, no preparation.  Damn, it still felt amazing. You were very wet, yet the stretch of his thick dick was like no other.

Chris looked down as he stroked into you, gradually increasing his pace.

“I’ve been thinking of eating you out all day, worshipping your cunt, making you cum over and over again before I gave you my dick.  But no, you have to make me fuck you like this.”  

His hips sped up, snapping into you at a fevered pace.

“Should I let you cum?”  

He looked up and his blue eyes pierced your soul. You grabbed his hand that was around your throat and he could see your breasts bouncing under the satin. The friction against your hard nipples felt good. 

“Yes, please Mr. Evans, please.”  Your big brown eyes threatened to break him. But he remained strong.

“Oh. Now you wanna speak. Might be too late,” 

Chris grunted and pulled your nightie up to your neck, slapping your nipples lightly. 

“Mr. Evans! Oh my god.”  The stimulation was too much and not enough. 

He looked down at your clit and spat on it, watching his saliva melt on your hot flesh as you shuddered and moaned and as his cock sank in and out of you. It was like watching his dreams. 

He shuddered, then, he relented and used his thumb to bring you to the edge of madness with him. One hand rubbed your clit while the other pulled your nipple, and all the while his cock was pumping away inside you.

But when he could feel that you were close to the edge, he stopped what his hands were doing while his hips kept moving. You gasped, outraged.

“Pleaasseeee let me cum Mr. Evans. I’m sorry, I'm sorry. Please. Please.” Tears were rolling down your face as you begged.

You brought your hands up to your breasts, squeezing your nipples and moaning from the sensation. Chris’s blue eyes were black now and zeroed in on what you were doing. You felt him grow even larger inside you. 

Your eyes got larger too. You tried to use your sweet voice. “Fuck me, please Mr. Evans, sir.” 

Chris’s jaw clenched and you felt him jump inside you. “Did I tell you you could touch my shit?” 

He nodded to your breasts. “Squeeze them harder.” You did as you were told and the stimulation made your pussy spasm around him, sucking him in deeper.

“Unghhhh. Your tits are so gatdamn perfect,” Chris groaned and leaned down to lick and suck them greedily as he stilled and willed himself not to come.  You could feel his cock pulsing inside you as he manhandled your nipples. He suckled them both again, releasing one with a pop to breathe “Fuck” in your ear.

“I should be fucking your tits right now as I feed you my cock.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head. “Ugh. Yes, Mr. Evans.”

That reaction did things to him. He couldn’t help but move a little before he could stop. He leaned up, eyes flashing as he grabbed your neck again. You arching beneath him caused him to start moving again, hooking your knee up with his elbow so that he could dig deeper.

“Yesyesyesyesyes…” your chant was a prayer and an offering. Suddenly, Chris wanted you to cum all over him. He started working your clit again with his thumb. “Give me what I want, baby,” Chris ordered. “Give me that gushy shit.”

And he was hitting that spot, fucking into ferociously now, hitting your cervix. The tension was tight in your belly, the pressure was building as he slid in and out of you, the sounds obscene. He looked you in the eye.

“Do I need to suck it out of you?” 

The memory of the last time he ate you out hit you like a ton of bricks. You came, squirting all over his hand, him, and the bed.

“Yes, baby. Give it to me.” He reveled in the fact that he made you like this, and that he was the first one to teach you that your body could do it. “You’re so gatdamn beautiful.”

Chris came inside you, wishing that your IUD was already removed. The thought of your ass and tits during pregnancy made him spasm one more time, and he emptied everything into you. 

He collapsed on top of you, face buried in your neck and his still semi-hard cock inside your pussy. You smiled and hummed and wrapped your legs around him, rubbing his back and hair while kissing his shoulder.

Chris allowed himself a few seconds of reveling in you before he kissed your neck and whispered in your ear. “You ok?”

You smiled.  “I’m great. That was amazing.”

Chris chuckled and sighed. “You love getting me worked up don’t you?”

You giggled. “Yes, Mr. Evans.”

Chris groaned and smiled and gingerly pulled out of you, rolling onto his back and tenderly stroking your cheek.

“I can’t wait until you’re Mrs. Evans.” He smiled at you. You melted.

“When are you going to get that shit taken out and have my baby?” He sweet-talked into your ear and you couldn’t deny him. Damn, you were sprung on your future husband. 

“My appointment is the day before we leave for St. Croix.”

You smiled at him, dreaming of your wedding day. 

“’I’ll pick you up from the doctor and we’ll probably get started on that baby in the parking garage.”

“Christopher!”  You were irked when you called him by his full first name.  “We can’t have sex the week before the wedding! Don’t you want our wedding night to be special?”

He raised an eyebrow at you, watched you pout and pulled you over to him. He sighed.

“Our wedding night will be special.  Because you’ll really be mine.” He took in your sassy look. You were so fucking cute. He sighed.  “But if you want to stop, for ....14 days?”

He looked down at you and you up at him. You nodded and he cleared his throat. That was going to be tough. But he’d give you anything you asked for.

“Then, that’s what we’ll do.”

“Thank you, Mr. Evans. “  You kissed his cheek, then he got up, headed for the shower. 

You looked back over your shoulder and caught him staring at your ass.

“Change the sheets, will you?”

Chris rolled his eyes and grunted at you. He got up and decided to change the sheets later. He needed one more go before two weeks of abstinence. At least it would be good motivation for Father Mike.

————

The next day you were on the plane to New York to pick up your wedding dress. Chris was missing you already and calling you on his break. You’d decided to spend the week before the wedding at your mother’s to avoid temptation.

“I can’t wait to see you next week at the church.  I’ll meet you at the altar.”  Chris’s voice was just about everything.

“How are you so sure that you are sure, Chris?” 

You chewed your bottom lip. There, you'd said what you were so terrified about. You loved Chris so much and you wanted to be sure that you wouldn’t be hurt. You were a little worried.

If Chris was worried about it, his voice didn’t give it away.  

“I’m confident that I will see you in the church at sunset on our day.  It’s the way I see you in my dreams.”

You melted.  “Okay.  You are good.”  You both laughed.  “That’s some good game.  But you already have me.”  You couldn’t wipe the smile from your face.

“No game. Just truth.  I’ve dreamt of this almost since we first got together.” 

You were both quiet for a minute. The pilot announced that the plane was going to land.

“I gotta go. Have fun tomorrow with the boys. Don’t stalk me and my crew.”  

“Atlanta is a small big city. You never know what might happen.” Chris had a plan.  “Have fun tonight, Babe.”

You were cheesing hard when you hung up.  As you descended into NYC, you were on cloud nine.

-------------------

“No. I got this.  I’m going to pay for it.” You shook your head.

“But Mom, this dress is over $6,000! Chris said that he was paying for everything…”  

Chris’ pride was preventing your mom from footing the bill. But even though you were getting married on a tropical island to a movie star, you still wanted the Princess treatment from your mom.

"It’s the least I can do for my baby girl. And if you’d had a wedding in Atlanta, we would have spent way more than 6k.”

You fell back and let Nancy have her way with a laugh. You loved your mom, and you loved Chris. And he was going to love this dress on you.  You couldn’t help but grin. He would be so happy.

-----

“What the fuck do you mean, Nancy paid for the dress?” Chris’s anger could be felt all the way from Atlanta.

“Hey, hold on.  What happened to ‘Meet me at the altar?'  Why are you talking to me like that?”  You didn’t like Chris’s tone.

“Your family made it clear that they don’t think I’m good enough for you.  So you shouldn’t have taken their money.  That was stupid thing to do.”  

Chris’ anxiety was getting the better of him, but as soon as he said it, he knew he was fucked.  He was just silent, hoping you didn’t quite hear him.

At this point you were looking at your phone as if it had grown fins and was trying to swim away.  Then you put it back up to your ear.

“Well, maybe you are the one who is too good for me, since I’m so stupid.”

Chris was angry, but he didn’t want to dig the hole any deeper. "I didn't say you were stupid, just that that was a stupid decision.  You should have consulted me."  He said it in a softer tone.

"Oh. I get it, Christopher. I have to ask permission to make decisions, now?" Your anger was hot, yet controlled.  

“I’ll tell you what. The girls and I will go out and have a fucking ball tonight, and I will ship the dress back to New York tomorrow. I won’t be needing it. How's that for a decision?" You were through.

“Don’t threaten me. It’s time out for all that.  I’m not playing your games anymore.  Be on the island next week or I’m done.”  Chris had a feeling of panic, but he masked it with his acting ability.

“You don’t have to play my game, Christopher.  You can waste your time going to St. Lucia next week if you want to. I’m out. The thing is you’re gonna want me back. And I’m not going to be there.”

With that, you ended the call and willed yourself not to cry.

——-

Chris got ready for that night while going insane. He didn’t exactly know what he was going to do, but he knew he couldn’t let you leave his world.  He was just hoping he would find you in time.

----

True to your word, you were  turning up at the club.  You were on your fourth drink and well on your way to oblivion. 

You didn’t really know if you were going to send the dress back and not marry Chris, but you didn’t want to think about it.  You just went and got more ones as you watched the strippers dance.

---

You were nervous when you went to the private room in Diamonds.  You had never had a lap dance this private before; you wouldn’t know what to do. Nicey, your maid of honor, insisted that it would be fun.  You sat on the couch, trying not to think about what may be on it.

You had too much quiet time, because you were starting to think about Chris.  You put your head in your hands when you realized what you had said and done. You didn’t want to leave Chris. All this was just nerves on both your parts.

“Shit!” 

You said out loud. You pulled out your phone to call him. Then the door opened behind you.

“Who are you calling?”  That voice made you stand up, surprised and happy.

“Chris!”

You squealed and jumped up into his arms, legs around his waist.  He laughed, turned around and sat down on the couch with you on his lap.  Things got serious quickly.

“Ummm.”  You were trying not to move, but the position you were in was making you want to squirm. You pouted for a second and Chris was quick to devour your lips with a kiss.

“Why are you here?  Are you stalking me?” Your voice had come down an octave or two and was husky.

“I was missing my baby. And I want to say I do want you back.” He looked down, his beautiful dark lashes on his cheeks. 

“I'm sorry for getting angry earlier."  He looked at up you like a little boy. 

"I’ve had enough of that. I want to be the man that you deserve. And I love you.  I just wanted to remind you of that.” 

He kissed you again. You ran your fingers through his hair. His fingers cupped your ass on his lap squeezing and rubbing.  When you came up for air, you smiled at him, heart full of joy. 

“Say it again.”

Chris grinned that grin and said, “I love you. And I’ve missed you.” 

“I love you too, baby.  I hope you know that earlier was just my nerves.  I’m sorry I flipped my shit."

Chris was so relieved. He smiled. “It’s okay. I just had to be sure that I was going to see you in St. Lucia.”

“Yes. Don’t worry.”  You smiled and Chris kissed you again.  You felt it in your pussy.

“Fuck!  I want…”  

Your voice trailed off as you remembered that you still had a few days until you would be married. You quickly stood up and moved away from him, but Chris had his gaze locked in on you. He moved toward you, held you and nuzzled your right ear.  

“Mmmmm.  Now, tell me what you want to do.”  His voice was talking straight to your pussy. Your knees buckled. 

“Mr. Evans, I….”

Chris caught you around the waist, his hands slipping under the material of your top. You didn’t want to give in so quickly, but the moan that escaped your lips betrayed you. 

As his hands inched up your torso and his thumbs reached your nipples to the hardening peaks there, you threw your head back.  He attacked your neck with bites and kisses.

“Damn!”  You were all about what he was doing at the moment.

He spoke again.  “Now.  Tell me what you want to do.” He repeated himself. Totally Mr. Evans.

You bit your lip and shook your head.  Your eyes were half open, but full of desire. His eyes looked into your soul as his tongue darted out to moisten his sexy lips.  You wanted that sexy mouth on you.

Chris chuckled.  He was beyond caring about abstaining right now. 

“Ok.  Let me tell you what I want to do. I want to smell you.”  His eyes were boring holes in your soul right now.  You got even wetter when he closed his eyes to imagine your scent. 

“Your smell gets me so high. And it makes me hungry.” He opened his eyes to stare at you again, making your back tingle. 

“I want to eat you out, kiss all of your pussy.  Then, I want to fuck your throat until you lose your voice, and I want to hear you try to scream as I fuck the shit out of you until you come all over my cock.” 

Chris told you all of it matter of factly, his delivery making you feel it in the pit of your stomach and the small of your back.

“Now.  Tell me what YOU want to do…”  You couldn’t focus on just one thing.  What popped out of your mouth was: “I know you want to get me pregnant, but right now I just want to get on my knees and swallow our kids. Make me choke on your cock, Mr. Evans.”

‘Holy shit!”  Chris grabbed for you again, hands everywhere as you pawed at his crotch.  He pulled away to unbutton his pants when you heard someone calling your name.

“Fuuuuck!”  Your heart sank as your crew entered the private room, catching you and Chris almost red-handed.

“Unh-unh bitch!.  Let’s go.” Nicey was insistent. 

You almost cried as they led you away.  Chris' face was priceless as he tried to control himself. You almost ran back to him. But an image of your wedding day sprang to your mind. 

“See you next week.”  The smile you gave to Chris calmed his soul.

“See you next week, Babe.”

And you were whisked away by your people.

--------  

Chris walked out, leaving his boys with the dancers, went home and got in the shower and then to bed with his script, confident that he had his baby back.  

When he heard his phone ding, he smiled, and picked it up, knowing just who it was. 

“Damn,” he said to hiimself. It was a picture of your ass, spread out and ready for him, your juices evident on your thigh and your fingers in your pussy.

“I need you to throw it back on, Mr. Evans….” Chris felt himself get rock hard in a minute. 

Chris pulled on his grey sweats and a t-shirt, with a hoodie on top for you to steal, as he went out into the night to pull up at your mother’s house. 

Mr. Evans needed his Princess. 

Every day.

-------

Let me know if I did Mr. Evans justice by liking, commenting & reblogging!

@olyvoyl @summerofsnowflakes @einfachniemand @sillyteecup @riiyy

@honeysucklechocolatedrippin @theselilwonders @lonelydance @chattykathysquietsister @anh1020 @nissameta1782 @jbrizzywrites @betterkeepmewetterthanabayou @stilltoyou​

@my-soulmate-is-mycroft @kiwisa @food8me @aiikaa @marvelfansworld @justanormalfangirlsworld @itishopeless @london-grunge @pheebsyells @thesecretlifeofdaydreams-bl-blog @douxtille @ximaginx @jdmacca92 @fofisstilinski @dyspraxicwhore @bertieandberries @ladystrawberry @bit-of-a-timelord @chesca-791 @aaronhotchie @calimoi @fangirlfree @bbaengtan @karolsboo @aliceforbes @insertpithyusername @sickknik @photmath @whorekneebrain @mostannoyingbillioner @anacrcarvalho @iconicshit @spicybibimbap @chaoticsteverogers @nerdymugsharkempath

@txtsfromyourex @sadthotsonlylove @assoftheamericana @ikatieebabyy

[savoies]

all i want for christmas is you - brendan brisson.

summary: the umich hockey team throwing a christmas party and you and briss getting along in more ways than one, except you think that for briss it’s just a one night stand.

specified pronouns: she/her

word count: 1k

warnings: party things, hookups, alcohol, one bad word, angst.

a/n: here is the first work for my christmas works, you guys voted for briss (which lowkey surprised me given the choices) but here we go, enjoy! also thanks to @mysticstarrysiren for the help.

The University of Michigan was a party school. Everyone knew that. So when Chritsmas rolled around they just felt like it was necessary to throw a Christmas party. Ok see the thing was that this wasn't a full blown christmas party. It was just them in their house with strung up colored Christmas lights and a few people wearing christmas sweaters or headbands and lots and lots of alcohol. I mean finals were over and they of course had to celebrate somehow and a party seemed to fit the bill of “celebrating”.

So now you might ask how did Y/N even get here after being in her dorm room in her pajamas watching christmas movies. Well she had one word for you, roommates. Her roommate went on and on about how they should go out and celebrate finishing another semester and now here she was sitting on the couch with a drink in her hand not knowing anyone. Well there were some acquaintances but no one she felt like she could actually get into a conversation with. Well that was until Brendan arrived.

He had already had a few drinks in his system and after saying hello to people he knew (which was basically everyone) he sat on the couch next to the girl. “Hey, Y/N right?” Brendan said recognizing the girl from his econ class. Y/N looked up and came face to face with Brendan. The few times that they did exchange conversations were for group projects so she basically kind of knew him already, it was kind of nice to have someone to talk to after her roommate had left her here.

“Yup that's me.” Y/N said. Brendan and her both sitting on the couch with their knees slightly touching. Them talking sort of loudly to be heard over the sound of the thumping music. Them leaning towards each other to be heard. Talking about whatever came to mind. As Y/N sat here she didn't feel uncomfortable around Brendan, honestly she kind of liked his company. The warmth he had to offer. The way the sound of his laugh made a small smile appear on her face.

After talking for what seemed like forever, Brendan leaned to whisper in Y/N’s ear. “Do you wanna maybe come back to my room with me.” He said as they both leaned into each other. See the thing was yes they did both have a couple of drinks but they weren’t full on drunk so yes they knew what they were both doing. So both of them stood up and now they were heading to Briss’ room, Y/N’s hand in his as they walked upstairs.

Now you can say all these things about how Brendan made Y/N feel loved or whatever but that wasn't the truth. As she came into his room with him she knew what she was getting into. This was just for the fun of it, two young adults hooking up before they had to head back home for the holidays. 

Except that as the night dragged on and both Y/N and Brendan stepped out of his bedroom a few whoops and stares coming from the surrounding guests she couldn't help but feel as though maybe Brendan would talk to her and not just leave her like some of the other girls he had hooked up with in the past (not saying that she was better than this girls somehow but still).

She hoped that maybe their conversation before said actions would have sprung a new friendship. Someone she could talk to or hang out with just for fun. Except that didn't happen.  As soon as they stepped out of the room Brendan seemed to ignore her. Muttering something along the lines of “I'm gonna go get a drink, see you later.” and then of course she never did see him again that night.

~~~

After the party Y/N went back home. Three days later she was back in her hometown lowkey feeling used. She had told her friends about hooking up with Brendan and they all said the same thing, “that's just the way he is, what did you expect.” Except here as she sat in her childhood bedroom she couldn't help but feel many things.

Now see the thing was she didn't have feelings for Brendan or didn't even care that for him it was just a hooking up. It was more so the fact that he didn't even seem to acknowledge her. The way that he didn't even look her way when three days ago her hands were tugging at his hair and his hands were wrapped around her neck. 

She knew that she shouldn’t have the brunette boy invade her mind as she was here with her family but she couldn't help it. Except as the brunette boy was back home in California all he could think about was the girl that he had a genuine conversation with three days earlier.

See the thing with Brendan was that he only hooked up at parties. The less conversation the better. Except as he sat with you on the couch three days earlier he couldn't help but like the warmth you brought as you leaned in to talk to him. Or the way both of you leaned into each other like no one else around you guys mattered. So now as he sat here back home with his friends he couldn't help but feel as though he had fucked things up. Brendan wasn't one for feelings, he absolutely hated them. So the best thing to do when he felt like he was lowkey vibing with you was to walk away (or at least in his opinion it was) . So now both of you sat in your childhood homes thinking about the other and how for the other it wasn't anything more but a hookup except the thing was that for both of you it wasn't just  a hookup.

taglist: ​( send in ask if you want to be added) ​@hartsyhart @nhlpetey @mitch-slap @frostythegoalman @cizkas  @aria253264  @josty @kaitieskidmore1 @stfukie @alxvlasic @hockeyallthetime @barzy-baby @sophiesreadinglist @martynecass @joshsandersons  @connormcdavo @maattamatthews @joelsfarabees ​ @boqvistsbabe @ana-maa @stars-canucks @bbrissons @joeljuice @2manytabsopen @wildflowermarns @kentjohnsons @three-headed-monster @kindaahockeyblog @b-brz @drei-mrssvechii

christmas taglist: @2manytabsopen @tanninetanya (send me an message or ask!)

[spidermanifested]

i have complained to my friends at length about how unsatisfying-to-terrible ive found the writing side of things in tadc but caines slapped together dentists office gachapon machine prize face is a very unique and well-executed set of design choices. like even though hes clearly a fresh graduate from the bill cipher school of wacky extradimensional mastermind hes fully his own guy and the giant disembodied lipless mouth is perfect for an airheaded chatterbox who cant seem to express emotions outside of bombastic enthusiasm

and in the other corner we have uhhhhhh. Generic underdesigned sweater vest individual. but theyre made of goop and no mouth. oh theyre supposed to be the embodiment of fear? oh those are phobias. yeah i definitely envision my phobias as little smiley adorable blobs of goop and when i think Fear i think forever 21 skinny jeans why is this design from a game called monster prom . why purport to be prom with monsters and then turn around and give me whatever this is

i know theres not that many votes yet and its close but by god it should not be. how

following that character design tournament is absolutely maddening sometimes because i look at the options and i go okay theres a clear winner here, maybe its not the greatest work of creativity known to man but the other one is just super boring and/or incohesive. and then i vote and guess whos winning. Not the better one

[jlf23tumble]

hiiii do you have any 1d recs? Feeling meh and could use some fluff, or something hot, or someone else’s drama to focus on. Lol

Hello! This is mildly tough because I'm not sure what you've read or are into, if you want something longer, shorter, newer, older, canon, AU, etc. etc., so I'm gonna go with newer, plus an older one, and if that doesn't fit the bill, come on back! Most of what I love is really short, for one, because I love short shorts, and for two, because I don't have a ton of time, so super long fic is a tougher sell (any fandom), but I have a few long 'uns here! Enjoy this mixed bag!

First of all, start with the fics in the recent wankfest, all of which are here...multiple pairings, all of them short-ish, all of them ridiculously hot, I won't even split out my faves, 2 many 2 good. I also did a list last month with some recent ones I've read/loved, so check those out, too! Here are ones I've bookmarked around those two lists:

To Crave Your Touch, @haztobegood, 677 words. This entire SERIES, god, I love the subscription feature on ao3 [clenches fist] so much, I vote for all the rest of it, too.

the most unsuitable pet, stretchmybones, 2k. Idk if this author is on tumblr, my apologies for not tagging them, but this series caters to all my interests, another one where I'd rec the whole thing.

Baby Blues, @kingsofeverything, 11k. I know, I know, these are essentially drabbles, but I'd read them fleshed out in any form! Or as is!! Momrry, rise!

The Earl and His Duke, QuickedWeen/ @becomeawendybird, 52k. Long-time readers/first-time callers are aware that I'm not the biggest historical AU fan, but this feels like a Jane Austen-adjacent fic, and I *am* a fan of hers, this one's a win!

Among Lavender Fields, @homosociallyyours, 70k. Megan's notes say that some photos I sent helped with inspiration, and I am...not remembering that, but I'll take it! This fic feels like a movie!!!!

You were a beam of light, lit up my broken sky, CuckooTrooke/ @larrydoinglaundry, 84k. This author just wrote an incredible lactation kink chapter in a different fic, so already, they're AIMH, but this one! INCREDIBLE doesn't even cover it, one of my fave's of the year for sure.

Of Mates and Men, bananaheathen, 231k. This one's a wip, but don't let that or the word count scare you! The author updates every two weeks or so, a lovely 10k gift that has been building over time. The softest, coziest sweater--the fluff! The build up! The warmth!

...finally, this one's an old one, but having listened to Liam's CEO podcast, I can't stop thinking about it (one of the best authors, too, if you want to just read everything else they've written). Won't Get to Space Because I Haven't Got a Rocket, sunsetmog, is from 2013, and it imagines what might have happened if Liam didn't make X Factor and went back to Wolverhampton to be a mechanic. But much like Windsong, he stayed on two people's minds, if you catch my drift. Anyway, present-day Liam talked a bit about his sliding doors/what could have been situation on that podcast, and all I see is this fic (even though I HIGHLY DOUBT it woulda gone down like this, just much 2 think about, ya feel?)

[danger-xylophones]

The Senator and the Hunter (Cad Bane x reader)

{masterlist}

Warnings: some suggestive dialogue

Notes: Cad Bane fluff! Cad Bane fluff! Cad Bane fluff! Cad Bane fluff! CAD BANE FLUFF!

I wanted this to be gender-neutral but there aren’t any pet names in the Durese language that are gender-neutral. 

Can we do away with ‘beautiful’ being used in a feminine sense? I call mountains beautiful and I don’t think they’re ladies. Let beautiful be neutral. 

Tags: @lifelikefae Here ya go! :D

…………………...

Swish, swish, swish, the fabric of your pant legs brushing against each other echoed in the tense room inhabited only by you. Your brow hurt from being furrowed for so long, your bottom lip had been worried into oblivion, and your previously expertly styled hair had been mussed as if you’d just rolled out of bed. You were sure that if someone from the speedway looked into your office right now they would see some scowling, pacing hermit who was frustrated at the galaxy and the datapad in their hands. That is if anyone was able to see into the tinted windows of the senate building. 

You hadn’t had any clue how long you’d spent on this one bill but guessing 72 standard hours didn’t feel too far off. A part of you wanted to be angry that you’d had to spend so long on the bill proposed by Bail Organa but the other part reasoned that it was a necessity if you wanted your voice to be heard amongst the cacophonous shouting of the other senators. It was an important bill, after all, it was one that would determine whether or not more clones were supposed to be purchased. Still, back and forth you walked: the light, royal blue fabric of your pants following the movements. It was a miracle you hadn’t worn a hole in the rug. 

With a tired sigh, you lowered the datapad to tap against your thigh while one hand shot to pinch the bridge of your nose. Your eyes were starting to burn. Maybe it was time to call it quits? tell Bail you would have to vote against him unless the Jedi made significant process in the days leading up to the vote? You didn’t know. 

A blaring sound cut through your deliberation, startling you enough to toss the datapad as the room was bathed in red and metal shutters slid down over the large windows. The previously tired sigh took a turn to be frustrated instead. A lockdown was not something you wanted to deal with right now. As calmly as your tired body would allow you moved to your desk to retrieve the small pistol you kept in the top drawer and tucked it into the back pocket of your slacks before moving to the designated hiding place in your office. You had just punched in the code to the small safe room when a thud sounded from behind you. You froze, hand shooting to the pistol in an instant as you hid yourself behind the curtains that concealed the door to the safe room. 

The intruder’s steps could still be heard over the annoying blare of the siren which told you they were approaching and doing so swiftly. With a small click, you took the pistol off safety. The intruder froze on the other side of the curtain-the only indicator of where they were being the quiet sound of shifting fabric. Wanting to get the drop on whoever had decided that breaking into the senate building and specifically your office was a good idea, you itched your hand forward to grasp the fabric of the curtains so you could rip it out of the way. There was a click on the other side of the curtain and you launched into action. The deep red fabric was forced out of your way as you raised the pistol high, ready to fire at whoever was standing in your office. What you weren’t expecting was the sight of two familiar pistols being pointed right back at you. You followed the guns up the arms that pointed them till your eyes locked with a set of crimson ones. 

“Cad.” You sighed. 

“Senator.” He responded, his familiar modulated drawl dancing over your ears. You remained like that for a few seconds, just staring at each other as though daring the other to make a move. Cad would be the first. Without looking away from you, he lowered his pistols and returned them to their holsters before pressing a few buttons on his wrist to turn off the alarm-the red emergency light going away with it although the windows remained shuttered and the door was still probably locked. Still, you followed his lead and put your own weapon back. 

“Cad,” you sighed again and stepped towards him, “What were you doing? I could have shot you!” You tried to rebuke him though you knew it would be a futile effort. 

“Not with that aim.” Cad replied in a smooth tone, crossing his arms as he did. You mimicked his posture though with an added pout. 

“Hey, I’m getting better!” You whinged, earning a disbelieving huff from the bounty hunter. “You didn’t answer my question though. What are you doing here?” 

“I felt like paying my senator a visit.” He continued in that smooth, unperturbed tone-as though breaking into the senate building wasn’t a massive violation of Republic law-as he moved back into the main section of your office. You followed behind the bounty hunter with a rather dopey smile on your face despite the situation. You wiped it from your lips though as soon as Bane turned around, determined to keep up the facade. 

You cleared your throat. “I wasn’t aware I was representing Duro now.” The reply slipped from you with ease, a stark contrast to the early days with Bane when you would never dare to tease him. 

“Don’t get lippy with me, mulk.” Cad narrowed his eyes and took a step closer to you. 

“I’ll get lippy with whoever I please, hud.” You sassed right back with hands on your hips as you also took a step forward. If Cad Bane had a nose, your own would be bumping against it. “Especially, if they decide to interrupt me while I’m working.” You raised an eyebrow at him, daring him to challenge you. “I don’t interfere with your work, love, so please don’t interfere with mine.” 

“Please,” Cad huffed again though with an added smirk that told you he’d found your attempts at rebuking him amusing, “I was watching ya early, jewel, you clearly needed a distraction.” 

Your eyebrow raised a little higher. “Watching me? Charming, Cad.” You shook your head and stepped back to make your way to your desk. “You really know how to make a senator swoon, baniss.” You tried to hide the mirth that permeated your voice with a forceful plop into your seat although you were certain the seasoned bounty hunter could still hear it. 

Cad chuckled, the sound so warm and deep that it made your heart flutter, as he leaned over to catch the arms of your chair. “Just the one, izrin.” Cad smirked and dipped his head enough to catch your lips with his. You melted into him, hands sliding up his arms till you could loop them around his neck. Cad groaned and pressed forward, ignoring the somewhat awkward pose he was in as he leaned down to kiss you. It was unbelievable how much you’d missed each other in the brief time apart. You pulled back to catch your breath, smiling as you did so, and nonchalantly plucked Bane’s hat off his head. 

“I’m glad you’re back, love, but was all this necessary?” You asked, holding his hat in one hand and using the other to vaguely gesture to the windows. “You couldn’t have sent me a message telling me to meet you somewhere or something less...conspicuous?” You asked as you continued to fiddle with his hat, even going so far as to place it on your head. 

Bane watched you carefully as you messed with his most iconic article of clothing. “‘Thought I’d try and impress ya.” He simpered with a shrug.

You rolled your eyes at him-of course he just wanted to show off. “You don’t need to impress me, baniss. You know that, right?” 

“I know,” Cad stood up and stretched, fixing the door with a bored stare that had you questioning if he still had it locked, “just felt like it.” There was a pause before he turned back to you and gave you a once over. “You look cute in my hat.” You tilted your head-Cad called you a lot of things: sexy, beautiful, hot, and breathtaking being the primaries when it came to commenting on your appearance but cute was a new one. It prompted you to look up at the brim of the hat. 

“Thanks, though I don’t think it really goes with my outfit.” You laughed. You had to look ridiculous clad in dark blue slacks, a white sweater, and your boyfriend’s large, leather wide-brimmed hat. 

“Please, you could wear anything and you’d still look good.” The bounty hunter looked away as he said that and you smiled. Cad Bane was hard to read even on a good day but you’d been together long enough to know that the only thing that could make the man nervous was complimenting you. It was a bizarre effect you had on him and one that Cad didn’t always know how to handle. One of the ways he hid it though was by looking away from you. Smirking like the loth-cat that got the cream, you stood up and strode towards him till you could wrap your arms around his waist. He stiffened up before placing his hands over your own.

“Thank you, my love. I’d say the same but I prefer you wearing nothing.” You practically purred into his back, just waiting to hear how he’d follow that up. 

“Oh, jewel, those are dangerous words.” He murmured and turned around in your arms to grasp your shoulders. One of his hands came up to grasp your chin. “Anyone could walk in and see us.”

“How’s it dangerous…” You began as you plucked Bane’s hat off your head and placed it back on his. You brought your hands down to grab at the lapels of his coat to pull him down to your height. “If you’re the one controlling the door?” As if on cue, a knock sounded on the metal door and the familiar sound of a clone calling out interrupted you. With a sigh and roll of your eyes you pulled away from Cad and made your way to the door. Before you got to it though, you sent him a pointed look that had the bounty hunter sighing and pressing another button on his wrist to unlock it so you could send the clone on his way. With that taken care of and the metal coverings and lockdown dismissed as a glitch the door slid shut and you were once again left alone with Cad. There was the familiar beep to alert you that the door had locked. As slowly as you could, you spun around to face the room again. 

Only to find that Cad had moved to your desk chair just so he could kick his boots up on your desk. “Well, senator. You up for a little danger?”

............................................

Translations-

baniss-handsome

hud-hunter 

izrin-beautiful

mulk-speaker, politician

[unknowncountrygirl]

Drunken Confession: Murphy

Jae arrived in his typical outlandish behavior, weilding two large bottles of Fire Whiskey.

“Look alive boys, our Thursday night just got a lot more interesting!”

“Where did-” Charlie started but waved his hand, “you know what, never mind, I don't want to know.”

“I got cups in my trunk! Gather round boys, it's going to be a good night! Hope you don't have anywhere to go early in the morning.” He summoned his and Murphy's side tables and put them back to back to make a small table in the middle of the room. He then placed the two, rather large bottles on the tables, and went to dig in his trunk.

“This is?” Orion questioned, picking up one of the bottles.

“Irish brewed Firewhiskey, aged in barrels for years. It's the good stuff.” Jae mentioned, placing a array of cups on the table.

“You and I have different ideas of what good stuff is.” Murphy eyed the amber liquid that Orion was sloshing around.

Charlie got off his bed and walked over, looking at the small shot glasses.

“So... You brought it for us all to try?” He asked innocently.

“I have something actually more interesting in mind.” Jae said slyly. “Unless you are all a bunch of softies.”

“Hardly.” Ben replied deadpanned, picking up the second bottle to crack it open, and began to pour it into the glasses, filling them to the top. “What were you thinking Jae?”

“We've all known one another years now, lets get to know each other a little bit better.”

“This is your way of just trying to get information from us that you can blackmail us with later.” Murphy looked up at Jae, feeling very suspicious of him. Jae said nothing, just smiled slyly and took his shot before pouring himself another.

“Take a drink if you have ever used a unregulated potion, I'll go first.” He took a large gulp of the amber liquid. Ben lifted an eyebrow, but played along and poured himself a drink before taking a drink. Charlie, Orion, and Murphy simply nodded as they were handed their own drinks, not touching the liquid to their lips.

“Take a drink if you've ever... Seen a dragon?” Charlie tried. Jae, Ben, and Charlie took long sips.

“You are going to have to include something that we have done.” Murphy almost pouted with a smile on his lips. “Like if you've been voted most dashing Quidditch Commentator.” It was silly, but an excuse to take a drink himself.

About 20 questions, some laughter, light conversation, and the entire first bottle of Fire Whiskey, most of the boys were starting to feel the effects. Ben and Jae held their liquor the best, more then likely because this was not either one's first time drinking underage. Charlie and Murphy were about one drink away from being completely gassed, and Orion was one away from finding world peace.

“Oh, I've got a good one.” Jae slurred slightly. “Take a drink if you've ever had a crush-” All the boys lifted their drinks, but Jae finished his thought, “on Iris!” They all laughed lightly, but the laughter died out when all five of the boys continued to take a shot.

Murphy and Charlie almost immediately sobered up, and Ben froze like a statue.

“Soooo, we have all had dreams of Iris Rosewood?” Orion clarified.

“Is that a question we are suppose to drink to?” Murphy questioned, looking down into his glass feeling suddenly as small as an ant. He had felt the weight of insufficiency before, but this made it all the more real. How in the world could he measure up to any of the boys in the group, especially Ben or Charlie who Iris had much more history with.

“More clarification, perhaps I shall word it this way...” Orion drawled, “if you have a crush on Iris.”

Again, the room fell silent as all five boys took another shot.

A couple of the cleared their throats, Jae coughed into his hand. It had become incredibly awkward, incredibly fast.

“This is uncomfortable.” Charlie broke the silence. “I'm going to uh.... Turn in.” The redhead stood up and quickly retreated to his bed and shut the curtains. Ben stood, mumbled something and actually left the dormitory.  

“Fate had already decided for us, if one of us shall be with Iris, then we shall be,” he smiled in his wistful way.

Murphy, feeling slightly better at what Orion had declared agreed with him.

“You're right Orion, I think we are all good looking enough-”

“The problem you have Murphy, is not your looks or your ability as a wizard, it's the fact a romantic relationship requires sex.” Jae stated bluntly.

If he didn't already have a fire burning in his veins, that would have lit him up. He had never wanted to fight someone as bad as he did in that moment. The problem was Jae was tall, and fast, and Murphy was drunk. He poured himself another glass, finishing the second bottle and downed it in a couple chugs. He hoped that he would get rightfully wasted and forget this conversation had happened.

He did get rightfully wasted, but he did not forget the conversation and his brain supplied that he needed to take it to the source.

But that source was not in fact Jae.

Murphy cast a silencio charm on his chair and dumped himself into it rather clumsily, chuckling to himself as he wheeled out of the room.

He arrived at the girls dorm that he knew Iris and Skye shared. The year they had been sorted into Gryffindor there had only been three girls sorted, where there had been five boys, so the girls had much more space. He opened the door and saw two empty beds, and one that was being occupied by long white-blonde hair. Rowan's bed had a enchanted bouquet of flowers that he recognized from Iris's breeding flowers from her botany projects, and Skye's bed was messy and unkept while she was away visiting her dad for the Quidditch World Cup.

He rolled over to where Iris was sleeping and looked at her with a tilted head. She had soft rollers in her hair, and a mask over her eyes.

“Psssttttt.” He said, reaching a hand out to shake her shoulder. She visibly jumped and quickly reached a hand to her face, pushing her eye mask up onto her forehead.

“Murphy?” She asked groggily, “wha- what are you doing here? What time is it?” She reached out and grabbed her small bedside clock and looked to see it was near 2:30 in the morning.

“I CAN SEX!” Murphy yelled rather loudly, causing Iris to jump again, her clock clattering to the floor.

“Shhhh! Murphy, if McGonagal finds you in my room, alone, she'll have both our heads!” Iris reprimanded him.

“But I need you to know!” He yell whispered, “I can have sex!”

Iris looked at him with a quirked brow, and mouth slightly ajar in disbelief. It was too early for this and she rubbed her face, propping herself up on her arm to sit up a bit.

“Ok?” She questioned, “why did you find the need to tell me this at 2:30 in the morning?”

“Because!” He slightly tipped foreword, and Iris held out a hand to catch his shoulder so he wouldn't fall out of his chair. That was when she smelt the alcohol on his breath and caught how his pupils were dilated.

“You're gassed!” She exclaimed.

“I drank a little.” He held up two fingers extremely close to one another.

“You drank a lot.” She nodded in affirmation.

“A lottle.” He slurred with a grin. “But I needed to tell you, because Jae said I couldn't have the sex.”

“Ok? Jae's an idiot.” She murmured sitting straight up, seeing that this was not going to be a quick conversation and found herself wishing she had worn more to bed. She had a sweatshirt with the neck cut out and a short pair of athletic shorts on. When she says short, she means her butt cheeks play peek-a-boo and with Murphy's eyes being butt level it was a recipe for disaster.

“I would be better then Bill Weasley kind of sex!”

“You have got to stop shouting.” Iris shushed him again.

“I would be better then Bill Weasley kind of sex!” He whispered again.

“Good for you, I wouldn't know.” She told him, tossing her eye mask on her side table. Murphy looked surprised.

“But-but he gave you his sweater!”

“Yeah, because the house elves accidentally shrunk it.” Iris explained to him.

“And you two spent a lot of time together, AND you still sometimes go with him!”

“Yeah,” she nodded in affirmation. “Because he's one of my most beloved and trusted friends. We've been through a lot together.”

“But he's handsome!” Murphy practically cried.

“Yes, yes he is. Very handsome.” Iris smiled at Murphy's grief.

“Then how have you not...” Murphy held up his left hand in a circle and used his right index finger to make a motion referring to the deed. Iris laughed and shook her head, deciding that even in his drunken state that he deserved the truth.

“Because Rowan liked Bill.” She told him, “There were so many could have been's in her passing. Talking with Bill, I think they could have been something but we will never know.” There was a shakiness in her voice as she explained the situation to Murphy who had a puzzled, but pleased, expression.

“So you and Bill... You never were anything?”

“Just very good friends.”

“OHHHHHHHHH!” He cooed loudly, causing Iris to slap a hand over his mouth. His lips moved under her hand and for a second she thought he was trying to talk, but realized he was licking her.

“WHY ARE YOU LICKING ME!” She pulled her hand back and wiped her hand on her comforter. “Murphy, you are being weirder then I have ever seen you, what's up?”

“I like you Iris, and I want you to know...” He trailed off pointing a finger at her as he leaned dangerously close to the front of his chair. “That I can be just like every other guy.” Iris looked at him and while she wanted to take what he was saying with a grain of salt, she could tell there was a lot of truth to what he was saying.

“If you are referring to your personality, I like that you're different, and loud, and outspoken. You are my biggest cheerleader and it's nice to be built up rather then being the one who builds everyone else up.” Iris told him, wondering if he would actually remember any of this in the morning. “If you're talking about physically, it made me wonder a bit at first but I did some reading and came to my own conclusions that it would be different but not impossible.” There was a sound that caught Iris off guard, cackling, giggling girls and the shrill voice of McGonagal. “Crap!” She jumped up and out of bed to dig in her trunk and find her invisibility cloak. She flung it on Murphy and held her fingers to her lips. “Keep quiet!” She grabbed her wand and cast a silencio spell on her room and walked to the door, then opened to pear out.

McGonagal was walking up the stairs, her hair pulled into a braid over her shoulder and her night dress dragging elegantly behind her.

“Ah, Miss Rosewood.” She chirped. “I don't suppose you know why there is chatter amoungst the younger girls about a boy sneaking into the girls dormitory?”

“Uh, no?” Iris faked confusion. Thankfully, her hair was still in their soft rollers and she probably looked like she had just rolled out of bed. “Then again, I've been asleep.” McGonagal peered inside her dorm and saw nothing. Meanwhile Iris's heart pounded hard in her chest hoping Murphy would keep his loud mouth shut.

“Very well, as head girl, if you hear anything I expect you to take care of it and report to me, yes?”

“Of course!” Iris nodded as McGonagal headed to check on the rest of the younger girls. The blonde shut the door and grabbed her head, it was far to early for the raging headache she could feel coming on.

“OOOOGGGG I'M A GHOOOOST!!!” Murphy called from his spot near her bed. She was royally screwed. She couldn't get Murphy back to the boys dorms since McGonagal was sniffing around.

“Murphy, listen. I want to go to sleep.” She murmured.

“Oh no... You don't like me anymore!” He wailed.

“What? No? I just want to sleep, which is what you should be doing!”

“But I wanted to prove a point-”

“Murphy, we are not having sex. There will be no sex having tonight, especially while you're drunk. If we were to have sex, I would want you to be coherent, which you are not!”

“I am co-herant!” He slurred, the invisibility cloak sliding to the floor. “I can tell you the score rate of the Hollyhead Harpies-”

“Which is the only scoring there will be tonight.” She reiterated.

“I could be a good- no- great boyfriend! We could make pretty blonde babies!” He announced loudly. At this point she would humor him if it meant getting to sleep.

“Yes we would.” She nodded as she adjusted his chair next to her bed.

“Pretty pretty babies. Lots of them.”

“Whatever you say.”

“I think five.” He nodded to himself as if stating a fact.

“Might as well go for six, have half a dozen.” She put her arms under his and heaved him into her bed.

“Woah. I'm in your bed.”

“Yep.”

“Are we-”

“Nope.” She peeled his shoes off and placed them on the seat of his chair.

“You sure?” He asked, starring at the canopy of her bed.

“Absolutely.” She affirmed as she dug inside her trunk, finding an old pepperup potion deep inside. She popped the cork out and gave it a sniff, smelled fine enough. Iris placed it next to the bed where she had a half drank glass of water. “I need you to go to sleep.”

“Are we gonna sleep together?”

“For the last time, no.”

“No? But this is your bed!” He gestured towards her blankets and it clicked for her.

“Will you be quiet if I do?” She asked as she placed her hands on her hips. He nodded eagerly and she crawled in next to him, their hips touching, and pulled the blanket over them. She turned onto her side and met Murphy's alcohol induced gaze. He was starring at her in a way he had never done so before and there was a little ball of tightness in her belly.

She wondered how he would react to this entire situation when he woke up clear headed. Part of her hoped he forgot it, and the other part hoped he really didn't.

“You're really special, Iris.” He said, his voice full of raw honesty. It was a simple compliment but it made her smile.

“You're really special too, Murphy.” She reached out a hand and placed it gently on his face, then tenderly took a few fingers and lightly touched his face. Over each eyebrow, down his nose, across his cheekbones. It was a trick her mother had used on her when she was little, when Iris was tired but just wouldn't calm down enough to fall asleep. Her mother would do this and soon Iris would be sound asleep. She hoped it would work with Murphy.

It did, in what felt like seconds.

Iris took the same finger that she had delicately traced his features, across his cupids bow, and the line of his bottom lip. She let out a long sigh and hugged her pillow, squished up against him so she wouldn't fall out of her own bed as he began to snore.

Lovely, this was going to be a long night.

----------------------------------------------------

Murphy saw light trickling in the windows and blinked before crossing his arms over his face. His mouth was dry and tasted awful, his head pounded, and he felt like a right disaster. He could feel that he had apparently fallen into bed completely dressed, at least he got his shoes off-

He felt movement against his rib cage and he nearly seized. He managed to turn his head and open one eye open enough to look. Iris was still asleep, hugging a pillow against her tightly, breathing in steady deep breaths. Then the realization that he had gotten completely shit faced the night before came to the fore front of his mind.

How he had ended up in Iris's bed was a blank. He turned and saw a glass of water, which he reached out and chugged, and the pepperup potion. He did his best to sit up and not disrupt her in order to reach for the potion and down it's contents. His chair, to his horror, was out of his reach. He either had to fall out of the bed and crawl over to it, hope he could pull himself up into it all while being quiet enough not to wake Iris... Or wait for her to wake and have her help him.

Either option sucked.

Iris let out a sigh in her sleep and he turned to give her a look. He thought that whatever had happened, must not have been bad enough to make her mad at him, because they were sharing a bed. He also knew that nothing had happened in that regard as they were both still clothed.

Actually, he lifted the blanket and checked to see if they both still had pants on. He did, he couldn't see anything but Iris's stocky bare legs and horror filled his brain. Where were her pants.

The cold air on said legs must have been enough to chill her a bit, because there were suddenly blue eyes starring up at him.

They both just starred at one another, in thick, awkward silence and Murphy would have rather lit himself on fire.

“Good morning.” Iris finally said, clearing her throat.

“Yeaaahhhh.” He groaned.

“How's your head?” She asked as she shifted and propped herself up on her left arm, putting her slightly raised up higher then he was.

“Feels like I was hit by the night bus.” He ran a hand over his head and into his disheveled hair.

“Well fire whiskey will do that.”  

“How bad was I last night?” Murphy asked, not really wanting to know the answer. Iris giggled a bit and smiled.

“You really want to know?”

“Oh Merlin's balls.” He crossed his arms back over his face, hoping that would block out the world. “Was I that embarrassing?”

“You really wanted to make sure I knew you could have sex-”

“Oh God!” He wailed, pulling a pillow out from behind him to try and smother himself.

“Actually you said I can sex, to be exact.”

“That's not even grammatically correct!” He grunted, “oh, God, did I lick you at one point?” Memories began to come in fuzzy tidbits. Iris laughed as she sat up and looked at him over her shoulder and began to take out her soft rollers, letting her hair cascade down her back. Her hair was long, extremely long, and while Murphy knew she did (you'd have to be blind not to see it) he had never really studied it closely. Even while curled a few of the locks almost touched the sheets of her bed in the position she was sitting in.

In a rare moment of self indulgence, Murphy reached and twirled a curl around in of his fingers. He had always loved her hair, from the first time he saw her on the Quidditch Pitch. She had it pulled into a french braid, and he had wheeled up behind her with a pile of books. She had unlaced her curls and waves from her braid and swished them in front of him like one of the most erotic dances that he had ever seen.

“I said other things last night.” He stated, “didn't I?”

“Nothing horrible-”

“I literally came to proposition you for sex. How is that not horrible?” He asked, rather angrily.

“You never actually propositioned, you just wanted to make sure I knew you could.” Iris twisted at her waist to look at him, unraveling the last of her soft curlers, which she had been piling on her second bedside table. “To which I replied that if we were to have sex, I would want you to be coherent. Which you were not.”

Murphy raised an eyebrow at her. If, she's not saying we would never. It was a sliver of hope.

“What else did I say?”

“I think you can guess.” Ah, so he had admitted his feelings. “I was worried you wouldn't remember that.” He zoned in on one word.

“Worried?” He asked, noticing a mild blush creep across her skin.

“Well... Yeah. I was hoping you would remember, it was nice to hear, I just wish it hadn't been with liquor in your system.”

“If you think liquor has a habit of making people less truthful-” He started.

“No, no, I know you were being truthful, I was just hoping you wouldn't try and back track this morning.” She moved her hips, and laid on her belly, propped up on her elbows, practically shoulder to shoulder with him now so they could look at one another.

“There isn't anything to take back, I said it, it's true. I just...” He trailed off.

“What?”

“I've been rehearsing what I would say if I ever actually told you my feelings for you and one of those things was that I can be just like every other guy. But the truth is I can't.” There was a vulnerability to him at that moment and Iris knew that this was not something he had ever really shared with anyone and she felt warmth spread at the knowledge that he trusted her that much. “I can't dance with you at a ball, or hold hands and stroll down the halls, when we kiss you'll have to bend down or be sitting, and... If we had intercourse, it would be limited. It's not a lie that I can,” he made a motion with his hand like he was looking for the right words, “it just won't be as easy or like it would be with someone who has control over their legs and hips. Then there's the judgement that would come with it, people would think you're either pitying me or worse, that you're some kind of sexual deviant and it's a weird kink!” The last sentence made Iris laugh.

“So what? When have I ever cared what the general public has to say?” She asked, “as for the other stuff, yeah it's going to be different, and I'm sure it will be difficult at points, but it's you and you're worth it.” She told him, reaching a hand up and placed it against the side of his face, her thumb running over the skin near the corner of his lips. “I don't care, Murphy, I really don't. I care about you, and what you think.”

“You are a gem in this world, you know that?” He asked, giving her a content smile. Iris moved, crawled, and laid her chest against his, running her fingers through his hair. She had never seen his hair disheveled, and she thought he was even more adorable then normal with his hair tussled. He lifted his head and caught her lips, just as soft and wonderful as he had thought they would be.

“How are you going to stay impartial during games now?” She teased him.

“Impartiality be damned.” He curled his fingers and ran his knuckles over her cheek.  

“We should probably get up and get dressed, before any notices we're gone.” Iris told him honestly, if a bit sadly.

“I honestly don't care.” Murphy joked as he ran a hand through her long hair, tucking what he could behind her ear.

“Well, I do. I'm head girl and McGonagal will have my head if she finds me like this.”

“You mean with the most charming Quidditch commentator in your bed? I mean she would honestly be more disappointed with Quidditch gossip then anything else if we're being honest.” He winked at her as she pushed herself up and stood up, grabbing his chair to pull it close enough for him to get into.

“I'll meet you in the common room, and we can go down to the Great Hall together, sound like a plan?” Iris asked, picking up her invisibility cloak.

“Sounds perfect.” He winked at her as she tossed the blanket over him.

---------------------------------------------------------

Iris and Murphy walked into the Great Hall, thankfully it was a Saturday and people were coming and going most of the morning.

“Iris! McNully!” A familiar voice called out and they turned to see Skye waving at them. “Come on! Do I have some stories to tell you!”

“We do too.” Murphy joked to Iris as they both went towards Skye. On their way, Murphy managed to pass by Jae. The two made eye contact for a moment before Jae looked back to see Iris. He narrowed his eyes at her before he looked back down at Murphy, who was grinning at him.

“Thanks for the Firewhiskey, Jae. Really took the edge off.”

Jae didn't say anything, but he seemed to understand what he meant and nodded. Murphy wiped the smile off his face and actually extended his hand to him, as an offer of a truce of sorts. Jae looked at him, quirked a eyebrow, but took his hand.

It was simple, and it was amicable. Iris smiled behind Murphy. Regardless, Jae was her friend and she didn't want there to be hard feelings. Murphy and Iris went on towards Skye, and Jae headed out of the Great Hall.

Iris sat down, and Murphy parked his chair, transferring himself onto one of the long benches. Once he was settled, Iris reached over under the table and took his hand, interlacing his fingers in hers. Murphy felt like this was one of the best feelings he had ever experienced. He looked over at Iris, Skye was prattling on about the Quidditch World Cup, but Murphy didn't hear a word. He was in his own little world and he was happier then he could ever be.

[gabe-gade]

Look ME in the eye and tell me that you're choosing a FICTIONAL HEDGEHOG over a REAL, BEAUTIFUL MAN, who touched the hearts of children and adults alike. He dedicated his life to helping children around the world feel like they belong. He interviewed legends like Julia Child, Bill Nye, and Koko the Gorilla. He was a vegetarian and never ate "anything with a mother". He was ordained as a Presbyterian minister in 1963. He was a joy to be around and always was open to all believes around him. In the 1960's, when racial inequality was heavily rampant, Rogers invited the black and gay François Clemmons to share a dip in a pool together.

Tell me you don't think Mr. Rogers deserves this. I of course love the "blood-stained sweater". But isn't his inclusion in that song and its popularity a testament to his legacy.

“I went into television because I hated it so, and I thought there was some way of using this fabulous instrument to be of nurture to those who would watch and listen”

If you've ever been unsatisfied with children's entertainment, vote Mr. Rodgers.

"As human beings, our job in life is to help people realize how rare and valuable each one of us really is, that each of us has something that no one else has or ever will have something inside that is unique to all time. It's our job to encourage each other to discover that uniqueness and to provide ways of developing its expression."

If you've ever felt as if you don't belong, vote Mr. Rogers.

"If you could only sense how important you are to the lives of those you meet; how important you can be to the people you may never even dream of. There is something of yourself that you leave at every meeting with another person."

If you've ever felt as if you could never accept yourself, vote Mr. Rogers.

"There are three ways to ultimate success: The first way is to be kind. The second way is to be kind. The third way is to be kind." - Fred McFeely Rogers

ROUND 5: SHADOW THE HEDGEHOG (sonic) VS MR ROGERS (mr rogers neighborhood)

[freckles-and-jalapeno]

First Snow

Word count: about 5K 🎧: this Originally I posted it on AO3 in 2 languages, English and Russian. Check it out if you'd like! Other than that, I hope u enjoy! 🌟

--------------

First snow...

No, we’re not talking about that pathetic, grey, mashed potato-like mud that makes your socks wet. It’s not those soggy pieces of cold white cotton wool, blown into the folds of your scarf by the wind. And it’s not that icy-cold frost that bites into your cheeks and ears, ruffles your hair and pierces the layers of your coat and sweaters. It’s that warm, pure December snow that quietly falls from the sky in soft flakes.

- What fine weekend weather we‘re having today! - happily said Tonks as she was crunching on her cheese toast. - Last week, you said exactly the same thing about the snowstorm - remarked Talbott, briefly looking up from his book "Transfiguration Tips for Young Wizards and Witches".

"What’s wrong with enjoying life?" Tonks would have answered, but since her mouth was still full of food, she only managed “Fffoosss wwonkk ittph eehooaaifff?”

Indeed, everyone at Hogwarts was in high spirits: the winter holidays were in full swing, half of the tables in the Great Hall were removed to accommodate beautiful Christmas trees, and students from different houses were allowed to sit together. Y/N, Tulip and Bill were the first ones to arrive for breakfast and attack the apple oatmeal; then Talbott and Tonks joined them. The air was full of joyful hubbub: the owls, who already delivered their morning parcels, were hooting and flapping their wings; students were rattling with their spoons and cups or loudly discussing the latest gossip from The Daily Prophet . And yet, there was one man in the castle who did not share the common joy.

Charlie has entered the Great Hall and tragically plopped down next to Tonks. - It’s a nightmare. I asked Francesca Wayne out on a date, and she agreed. - And... isn't that good news? - Bill gestured with his spoon of oatmeal towards his brother. Coincidentally, some oatmeal flew off the spoon, soared over the table and sludged right onto Barnaby’s shoulder.

- Her agreeing to go on a date with me was good. - Charlie said. - We were strolling around Hogsmeade, and everything was swell until some fifth-year Slytherin student unexpectedly jinxed me with the Tarantallegra charm. I began to tap-dance like a madman!.. And then it got worse. I was still dancing by the time Fitwick showed up. He did cast a counter-spell, but.. - Charlie covered his face with hands, and now was talking through his fingers. - ...by that time I had already managed to plummet into some mud nearby… I suspect it was porlock’s dung. It smelled all the same. Basically, I looked like a complete idiot ... oh, crickey!

Just at this moment they noticed a group of cute Hufflepuff girls passing by. For some mysterious reason, all girls had their hair gathered in a neat, long ponytail. The tallest gal from the gang stopped and waved in their direction.

- Hee-hee! Hiiiii Charlie! .. How are your legs doing today? ..

The feeling of shame caused Charlie’s face to take on a shade of beet.

- This is officially it. I quit girls. From now on, I will become a druid, go somewhere like Egypt and will only be dealing with dragons.

- Oh come on, Charlie! Don’t mind Francesca! - Y/N reassuringly patted her friend on the arm. - You know, I often see her in Potions class: she hides behind a cauldron and picks her nose, thinking that no one can see her.

- So true, - Tulip signed with her brows. - I bet she’s eating her boogers, too!

The whole company burst into loud laughter.

- But seriously though, - continued Tonks. - Let's forget everything about these bloody incidents and celebrate the weekend properly! Let's visit Hogsmeade, buy some butterbeer….

- Take a look at Zonko’s! ..

- Blimey, how could we forget about Zonkos’ for a split second?..

- Actually, this might be a good idea. I do need a new moke leather bag...

- I”ll get some sugar quills! ..

And so they agreed.

* * *

After shoving themselves into warm sweaters, hats, and mittens, they headed out of the Courtyard together. Bill, Charlie, and Tulip were walking in front, followed by Talbott, Y/N and Tonks. The group chatted about the upcoming semester and wondered which subject will have them writing most essays. Shortly thereafter, they met Professor Snape, grouchily making his way back to the castle, and they started proposing different versions of why he wasn’t around much these days and what mysterious business he was up to. Finally, they had an argument about what kind of festive pudding the elves would be making for the last day of holidays. Talbott betted galleons to Fizzing Whizzbees that the pudding will have strawberry flavor, Y/N voted for lemon, and Tonks - for cherry.

The road was gradually getting covered in white. Snow was sneaking into their boots, and the wind was merrily propelling them forward.

Suddenly, when friends were walking past a small brome grass field (now frozen and covered in snowdrifts), a large snowball glided through the air, furiously whistling all the while. It crashed directly into Tulip’s hood and majestically exploded with snowflake glitter.

- What the %#!*i9&! - angrily cursed the Ravenclaw as she turned around in search of the culprit.

Tonks was standing a little further away, now mockingly tossing another snowball up and down.

- Haha. One-zero, Karasu. C’mon you guys, we can't just walk away from this much snow.

Tulip shook her head to get the snow out her hair.

- Well, you're doomed, you little pink-haired witch! - she yelled and lunged herself at Tonks.

- Look at yourself, you tomato head! - metamorphine shouted in response and dashed away from her friend, laughing uncontrollably.

Unable to resist such good fun, the rest joined the battle, which was about to become the greatest strategic snowball battle in the history of Hogwarts.

They split into 2 teams. While one of his teammates was distracting the others, Talbott would conjure gigantic snowballs and avalanche them onto the heads of enemies via Wingardium Leviosa. Meanwhile, Tulip sneaked up on Charlie using a disillusionment charm; she grabbed his red hair and dipped him into a snowdrift right up to his neck. Bill, suddenly filled with brotherly instinct, jumped in front of Y/N and covered her from a charge of Tonks’ snowballs with his body. This sacrifice, however, turned out to be utterly useless, as the very next moment Charlie doubled the snow artillery in her direction; so much so that he knocked Y/N’s cap off.

At last, they tumbled in Madam Rosmerta's pub as one noisy lump of fun and laughter: cold, wobbly and covered with snow, but lively and carefree nonetheless.

- A table for six, please! - Tonks demanded in a jolly voice.

- For six? M’dears… - a low pitched, cackle-like noise came from a table at the very door.

It was professor Trelawney who tremulously perked up from underneath her thousand and one sherry-scented shawls.

- I think I heard I ... saw that you wanted a table for six? But did you know, m’dears, that the ancient scroll of prophecy specifically says NOT to sit down at a table on the sixth day of lunar December, if you are a group of six? The last one to sit down will lose a friend on the very same night ...

The group of friends exchanged puzzled glances. Of course, no one believed in Trelawney's predictions, but it was still very uncomfortable to hear things like that.

- Here, please. - Madam Rosmerta appeared in front of them before anyone had the time to reply to the terrible omen. She led the group up to a cozy table next to the fireplace.

- Blimey! What rubbish this old blind cat is saying this time? - Tonks hissed.

- Nonsense, like the usual. Every tea leaf class she’s now predicting a painful and a horrible death for just about everybody. Woo-o-o-o! Some dark forces are hovering over Hogwarts… - Y/N mimicked professor Trelawney’s voice and gestures. - But when aren’t they?

- Right. - nodded Talbott. - Besides, no one has died so far.

- Uh .. Well, who wants to sit down last? - Charlie asked hesitatingly.

- I’ll go! - volunteered Y/N.

- Suit yourself. - shrugged Charlie and hastily sat down.

- You don't believe those silly predictions, do you, Charlie? - Tulip settled down on a nearby chair. - Take a look, there are so many people around here sitting in groups of six. This doesn’t mean they will all lose a friend overnight ...

- Numerologically speaking, it is simply impossible, - added Bill and sat down, too.

Tonks sat down next to Bill. Talbott thoughtfully gazed at Y/N for a moment, and then he silently joined the others. Y/N was the last one to sit.

Without listening to friends’ endless squabble about Trelawney's competence, she stretched her legs towards fire, feeling blissfully warm and tired. Today was such a good day. And Madam Rosmerta is about to bring butterbeer for everybody! ..

- While we’re here, - Tulip cleaned her throat, - we need to make sure that there is enough of the wonderful drink for each one of us.

She took out her wand and pointed it at the glasses with beer.

- Engorgio!

The glasses had grown twice in size. They weren’t glasses anymore, really - they were jugs.

Bill raised his jug in the air:

- Let's drink to friendship! - To loyalty! - To honesty! - To dung bombs! - To holidays! - To Hogwarts!

Comfortably nestled at The Three Broomsticks, friends were clinking their glasses and drinking, and then some more, and a little bit more. At last, when everyone started to feel the soothing and flushing effects of the caramel liquid, Tulip grabbed a pack of Self-Shuffling playing cards from her coat.

- Alright, friends. How about we play some truth or dare? - she suggested.

- Since when does truth or dare require cards? - argued Charlie.

- Since today, you silly redhead. Highest card gets to ask. Lowest card gets to answer. I'll start, you chickens... Y/N, take one card, too.

Y/N stretched her hand forward and caught a card that jumped out of the deck. One moment later, the two girls smashed their cards onto the table. Charlie declared:

-Three of feathers and a phoenix. Hey, Tulip wins!

Tulip let out a wide mischievous grin.

- Y/N, tell us the truth then. Marry, flip, kill: Penny, Merula, Charlie.

Bill and Tonks immediately started to giggle and nudge each other with their elbows. Talbott and Charlie, on the other hand, straightened up in their chairs, leaned forward and stared at Y/N solemnly, without blinking.

After some thinking, Y/N tilted her head to one side and replied:

- Okay, I think I got it. I’d marry ... Charlie.

Tonks let out a loud whistle.

- I ... Uuhhh thanks I guess? - responded Charlie, blushing furiously.

- I would flip ... Merula. - continued Y/N.

- You mean you’d flip the greatest witch at Hogwarts? Ha-ha, that’s an interesting choice. - Tulip mightily slapped Y/N on the shoulder.

- Wow Tulip. - Talbott gingerly proceeded to remove Tulip’s hand from Y/N’s shoulder. - You pronounce “horrifying” differently than I do.

- Wait, so this means that you kill ... Penny? - Bill's jaw dropped in astonishment.

-Don’t get me wrong ... - explained Y/N. - She’s nice and all, but sometimes I get this feeling that she’s following me everywhere… and I mean everywhere. So yeah.

- Poor Penny. The sun-like creature who is always happy to see you. - Talbott chuckled. - And now, she has to DIE.

Their table shook from the loud cackling.

Brilliant! - Tulip clapped her hands. - The first round is over. Y/N, you won, now you get to choose who draws cards next..

Y/N chose Bill and Tonks.

- 7 of wands and 9 of stars! That was a close one, Bill. - Tonks’ face glowed up and her hair turned raspberry color. - So here is your dare, William...

- Oh no, no, no ... - Bill grabbed his red hair and started to crumple them.

- Don’t fret, dear Bill! I like you, so I will provide you with options... You can either ask Ismelda for a kiss or... you can kiss a garden gnome’s tummy!

Y/N and Talbott simultaneously snorted into their butterbeer glasses, almost choking on the drink. Bill, on the other hand, looked like someone had just asked him to drink a cup of newt’s goo.

- What bloody hell is this, Tonks ?? - he howled from annoyance and smashed his fists on the table. - There are NO gnomes in here!

- Most certainly there are. - Tonks replied calmly. - Take a peak at that table in the corner.

The table in the corner was taken up by Hagrid. He was quietly cooing with a small potato-like creature he had brought to the pub - apparently in secret from Rosmerta. At this very moment, he was feeding colorful Bertie Botts beans to the gnome.

- Merlin's saint underwear! - Y/N whispered reverently - It looks like Hagrid knitted a suit for him ...

And surely so, if one was to look closely, the gnome was dressed in a blue sweater and coarse-knit socks that were almost reaching the creature's thighs (if garden gnomes have thighs, of course). By some unknown coincidence, the gnome had no pants at all.

Bill looked at Tonks with the most touching expression Y/N had ever seen in his eyes.

- Can we play without the kisses?

- Hey, come on. I'm not asking you to kiss a Dementor, aren’t I? - Tonks just laughed in response.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss Ismelda)

I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I'll go out there and ask Ismelda for a kiss.

Charlie delightfully roared "Hallelujah!" and let a few green sparks out of the end of his wand. Tulip, Y/N and Tonks began to synchronously thump on the table and whisper: “Smooch! Smooch! Smooch! Smooch!”... Talbott threw his hands behind his head and settled himself more comfortably on the bench, getting ready for the spectacle.

... As a prisoner goes to be executed on a guillotine, that is how Bill Weasley was approaching Ismelda. The Slytherin gal was chatting with her fellow students at the bar.

- Check it out, it looks like she noticed him ... - Tulip started to comment on the action. - He’s telling her something ... great, they have contact! Come on, come on ....

- I almost feel sorry for him now - announced Charlie.

- Never let me forget this, ok? - Talbott smiled lazily.

Nobody else had the time to add anything because in the next second, the pub was filled with Ismelda’s shrilly wails, immediately followed by the ones of Bill. The girl, as one might expect, went absolutely berserk at Bill’s proposal and wacked him in the eye with all her mighty strength.

- Left hook! Fa-la-la…. A punch to the stomach! Fa-la-la ... And our hero returns ho-o- ome! .. - friends began chanting Bill's name merrily, with no tune or tempo whatsoever, which attracted even more attention to the oldest Weasley.

- Somebody please tell me why I became friends with a bunch of brainless doxies.. - Bill muttered under his breath as he was sitting down. He tried to say it with the most serious expression there is, but all the while his lips were quivering from a suppressed smile.

(read here if you want Bill to kiss the gnome)

- I can't believe I'm doing this. - Bill shook his head. - I choose to kiss Hagrid’s gnome.

- On the tummy! - abruptly corrected him Tonks. - Otherwise, you'll have to redo the dare!

- His tummy looks like pumice, did you know that? It’s crusty and hard and got some weird flakes falling off of it… And it smells just like my Great Aunt Tessie’s feet! - Bill exclaimed in anger.

- Stop whining! Just go already. While we sit here and enjoy ... - one could hear pure delight in Charlie’s voice as he was (for once) telling his older brother off.

Bill let out a sad sigh, got up from the table and started to make his way towards Hagrid. Apparently, the giant was not very happy to see him - the garden gnome would be considered quite a contraband for Madam Rosmerta, and she could forever ban Hagrid from The Three Broomsticks.

- Crickey, it's starting now! - excitedly squeaked Tulip.

The company stared at the show unfolding in front of them without blinking.

- Ah, it seems that the birds started chirping, can you hear? - Talbott said quietly.

- Fountains are sparkling, little hearts are flying in the air! - continued Y/N.

- Oh gosh, oh look! Oh, he’s kissing him!

As a matter of fact, it seemed like the angels themselves started crooning the moment Bill's lips softly touched the gnome’s belly button.

The friends doubled over with mirth. Tonks laughed so hard that butterbeer and snot started spewing from her nose.

But the gnome, as it occurred, did not like being distracted from his bean feast at all. The creature got even more upset as all the boundaries of his personal space were violated, and probably that’s why he suddenly growled and bit Bill’s nose. "Crunch!" - the sound echoed throughout the pub. Bill angrily yowled and burst out in obscenities. Now all the eyes in the pub were watching in his direction only.

- Yeh… What are yeh doing?! Stahp scaring the baby ... - Hagrid said gruffly and hid the gnome in his pocket. - Go back to yer’ friends, now, or he’ll start molting from stress .. And tis’ the worst, you know ...

Bill returned to their table, still rubbing his swollen nose in frustration.

- Oh, hey, Father Christmas! Did you bring us any gifts? - Charlie mused.

- I brought you a whipping, reptiloids... - Bill replied with the most serious face he could make, but his lips were quivering from a barely suppressed smile.

* * *

It was getting dark. While the group of friends was drinking and enjoying themselves at the pub, Hogsmeade was slowly being enveloped by velvet darkness. One after the other, the stars were lighting up. Here and there, windows of little shops and huts were blossoming in shades of orange. The garlands and wreaths, untouched after the holidays, were glittering with frost. Now there was cheerful music emerging from Madame Rosmerta's pub - those were the local musicians. They were playing flute, lute and tambone. One of the guests, who had a pig's snout instead of a nose, joined the musicians and started to grunt and beat on the drum. Many visitors picked up this joyous tune and began clapping and tapping to the beat - slowly at first, then faster and louder. One of the guests - a bubbly witch dressed in a lilac robe and a pointed hat - jumped from her chair, knocking over a mug of fiery whiskey, and began to dubstep dashingly with a goblin in a tweed jacket.

- Wowza, it's getting hot in here, - Bill said, wiping his beer mustache away. - Let's have the last round and head back. Talbott and Charlie, now it's your turn.

- My pleasure, - replied Talbott and drew a card.

Charlie drew a card with a higher suit.

- A perfect ending for a perfect day! As you can see, I'm a man of many talents, not only Quidditch. - Charlie boasted and gracefully ran his hand through his hair.

- Uh, yeah, except that quidditch sucks, - Talbott raised his eyebrows.

- You suck! - Charlie blurted.

- Mmm ... not as much as quidditch. - smirked Ravenclaw in response.

The young Weasley's cheeks turned so red that one could easily fry eggs on them if they wanted.

- Fine. Okay. If you do hate quidditch that much, maybe you’d care more for dancing? I dare you, Talbott Winger, to go out there and have the best time of your life on the dancefloor - yes, IN FRONT of the musicians! But of course I can’t let you suffer alone - sarcastically added Charlie. - Go ahead and invite someone to dance with you… if they agree to dance with a haircut like yours, that is.

Talbott squinted his eyes and examined Charlie’s face in disbelief.

- Uhhh ... I look cool.

- Pffft. Whatever you say. - the redhead let out a cheesy grin.

- I say I look cool. - Talbott replied calmly.

Tulip and Tonks audibly snorted.

- Now then… Who will be the lucky one to have the ultimate all-inclusive Talbott Winger experience? - asked Bill and started to tap his fingers on the table. The rest of the group picked on this beat and joined Bill, making the sound be a very accurate drum roll.

- Hmmm ... I know just who to take on this adventure. Y/N... would you like to dance with me? - asked Talbott and offered her a hand - I promise not to step on your toes more than three times.

- Oh? I thought you “fly solo”... - teased him Y/N as she was taking his hand and getting up from the table.

Talbott didn’t answer, just sighed and rolled his eyes at her.

The two entered the dance floor in an uncertain and shy manner. A new festive holiday song was just beginning. Another vocalist stepped onto the stage, bowed, and dimmed the pub lights with Nox . He then casually flicked his wand, created a few golden and silver wandering pellets of light, and then sent them floating around the pub. Soon, the music began to play, and the vocalist started singing in a heart-warming voice:

Last Christmas, I gave you my Hippogriff,

But the very next day, you gave it away...

Y/N felt that the majority of gazes were directed at her and Talbott - not at the singing wizard. What a strange feeling - to be in the spotlight. It got very hot; she felt a few sweat drops form and slide down her forehead. Talbott looked at Y/N with a weird expression on his face. He seemed to be slightly uncomfortable, too. Without changing his bewildered expression, he took Y/N's hands and placed them on his shoulders, then dropped his hands on her waist.

- Talbott ... I hope you know what you’re doing? - Y/N inquired quietly.

- What kind of question is this, of course I don’t know what I’m doing. - said Talbott with feigned confidence.

- Now I get it. You're winging it, Winger!

Both dancers burst out laughing. The tension was released. They began to move, jump and spin to the beat of the music. And even Merula's screams about how they looked like two prancing warty frogs could not spoil their mood. Maybe they weren't professionals and had no idea what they were doing, but they were having a lot of fun together.

The song ended. To Y/N’s great surprise, there was an applause from the audience! Someone from the crowd even threw them a bright, fragrant bouquet of orchids, freshly conjured from the air.

- For the record, I hate dancing. But it wasn’t all that horrible with you around. - Talbott said bashfully. - Maybe I should have gathered my courage and should have gone to the Celestial ... you know ...

Talbott and Y/N returned to the table, slightly out of breath after the dance and still holding hands. “Two brooos !! chilling at the Three Broomsticks! Five feet apart ‘cause they’re not friends!” - the others hollered and cheered and greeted the two back.

- Will you just shut up?.. - chuckled Y/N as she was letting Talbott's warm hand go.

* * *

It was time to return back to the castle. Friends were getting dressed in silence. All their wet clothes had almost dried up by the fire, and for those pieces that weren’t dry yet, they used their wands. Before leaving the pub, Y/N gave the bouquet to Madam Rosmerta. At the very exit, Trelawney's warnings came back to Y/N. It was so scary to think that on this night, according to the prophecy, she would lose a friend, and so she chased those thoughts away. As soon as the group stepped outside, contrast between the warm pub and icy cold air made them cough. Sniffing and cursing from freezing weather, they rushed towards Hogwarts down the snow-cleared path. This night was especially quiet: there was only the sound of snow creaking under their feet, and from time to time there came a bird’s distant cry.

- Bloody hell, we never bought anything, - Charlie complained in annoyance.

- Well… Let it burn, then. It will just be added to that list of four hundred things I have to do tomorrow ... or the day after ... or after.. or after .... - Tonks answered him with a loud yawn.

Friends were already approaching the doors of the castle when Talbott deliberately started to slow down. He stopped right in front of a path fork that was turning off the main road and leading to the owlery.

- Ummm... I need to send a letter to someone, - he said shyly, milling about the path. - Care to join me, Y/N?

“Hmm .. that’s a strange request, it’s practically nighttime... Something is fishy (pardon me, birdy) here.” - Y/N thought in her head, but out loud she only said:

- Uhh .. okay, sure. Let’s go.

After all, Talbott was her friend, and she had no reason to mistrust him.

The group of friends said their goodbyes and parted ways. Talbott and Y/N turned to the owlery. Tulip was waving at them a very long time after that, until their silhouettes blurred out, enclosed by the veil of snow.

Several minutes had passed since Talbott and Y/N were alone together. They were strolling down the path and talking about all sorts of things that happened during the past few days. The two of them were approaching the little towers of the Owlery rather quickly, and now only a small meadow was separating them from a brick staircase leading upstairs. In the summertime, the meadow was blooming with daisies and dandelions and was serving as a perfect playground for Puffskeins and Knarls. But now, the meadow seemed to have stopped in time: bare bushes were the only thing that was left from thick flowering plants; icy ground was tightly intertwined with fallen grass and wrapped in snowdrifts. Here and there, towered a few cedar pines, spruces, and chestnuts, but now they all were covered with white snow dust. For some reason, Talbott stopped walking towards the Owlery when they reached this meadow, and he began searching for something in his pockets. Finally, judging by the way his face lit up, he found what he was looking for. Aloof animagus beckoned Y/N closer. He was clutching something in his fist. As soon as Y/N approached, he opened his hand; there were two small luminous grains lying on his palm.

- What are these, Talbott? - said Y/N in quiet astonishment.

- These are midnight mint seeds, - he replied. - Professor Sprout gave them to me this Christmas.

- I have never heard of them…

- These are very rare. They can only be harvested once a year from underneath ash flowers. In places where you plant them, blood will never be shed again. - Talbott remarked in a lowered voice.

Y/N couldn’t stop staring at the grains. They seemed alive.

- Don't be afraid, touch them.

Y/N carefully raised her hand above the luminous grains and covered them with it.

- They’re warm! - not expecting that, Y/N let out a smile from ear to ear.

Talbott nodded. He looked straight into her eyes.

- I kept looking for an opportunity to plant them. Today seemed very special to me, and I decided to do it now. With you. If you want to.

- I ... of course I do! - Y/N’s cheeks and neck were rapidly getting covered with blush. - But aren't seeds planted in the fall?

- Not these. These should be planted in winter. They can only be planted under snow.

Y/N and Talbott knelt down and started preparing the soil for the seeds. They dug up a sufficient amount of snow, and then carefully placed glowing grains onto dead grass. They covered them with several layers of grey leaves and twigs, and then put a dense snow blanket above it all. But even through all these layers, the magic light of the seeds was shining through. Moreover, it seemed to have intensified and was now pulsating. For a brief instant, the pulsation stopped, and little blue stars began to emerge from under the snow, where the seeds were planted - similar to mini-fireworks. The stars took off and fell, crumbling and shattering into smaller pieces and dust. But the most spectacular thing that two friends were now hearing was... singing. It was a wonderful, calm and solemn melody without words. It was sung by the grains! Y/N had never heard such music before; she felt how her heart was opening up because of this melody. If someone had looked out of the Owlery window at that moment, then through the veil of a starting blizzard, they would have only distinguished a soft blue light illuminating two young faces floating above it.

The singing ceased; the blue light also faded away. Friends were silent for a minute, as if they were afraid to destroy the soothing feeling that the magical grains have produced within them. Finally, Talbott said in a hushed voice :

- You know, I didn’t actually need to send any letters. I just wanted to spend some time with you but without those dorks. So ... Thank you for being here with me.

His eyes crinkled at the corners as he was smiling softly at Y/N.

- It was my pleasure, - she answered quietly.

Talbott rose and brushed the snow off his knees. He then reached out his palms towards Y/N to help her get up, but he did not let go of them after that.

- There was something else. Care for one more dance with me?

For the second time during that evening, Y/N and Talbott were dancing together. But this time it was so much different than it was in the pub!! Instead of all the noise and din of The Three Broomsticks, soft spruce paws were playing them a silent symphony of winter. It was a melody of silence, a melody of bright joy, a melody of snowflakes and wind. This melody cannot be heard unless one would actively try to listen to it. The snow was falling inaudibly. It was cascading from the sky in large flakes, performing a couple of waltz motions with the dancers, and then laying down on the ground and sparkling merrily under their feet. These instants were filled with a sense of miracle: without any magic or magic wands.

- You know, dancing like this is so much better than having to dance while hundreds of thousands of eyes are staring at you. - Y/N noted.

- Agreed.

Gradually, without noticing it themselves, two friends stopped dancing. They were now standing across each other, looking at individual snowflakes on their faces and hair. Every now and then, several small crystals would shiver and gravitate down, but they would never reach the ground as they would melt in a cloud of frosty haze from their mouths. It was very quiet now. Soft light was being reflected from snow and onto their cheeks, flushed from the cold.

- We might freeze this way. - said Talbot, slightly smiling.

Slowly and gently, he unwound his blue and silver scarf and wrapped it around his own neck first, and then around Y/N's neck; now their heads were even closer to each other, connected by knitted threads. Y/N could see his face much more clearly now. She could see glitter in his brown eyes, his every eye lash, every mole, she could smell the herbal scent of his shampoo ... she could even feel the warmth of his breath.

- What I actually wanted to tell you, Y/N, - Talbott said softly, - is that the longer I think about it, the more it seems to me that professor Trelawney was right about her prophecy.

- H-how do you mean? - stuttered Y/N.

- You’re about to lose a friend because I don't think ... I don't think that I can stay friends with you any longer ... I want to be much more than that, - Talbott whispered and leaned over toward Y/N's lips and kissed her.

It was a light, subtle kiss, but Y/N could clearly feel the warmth gently spreading among her skin. And then, another kiss followed … and one more ... and one more.

All the while, the snow was falling - soundlessly, tirelessly, tenderly.

* * *

Much later, after going back to her dorm in the Gryffindor Tower, Y/N had been sitting on a windowsill for a very, very long time. She was looking through a window, wreathed by frost: at the icy lake, at never-ending fields, covered with silver and at the...

First snow.

[sergeantsporks]

Douxie Appreciation Week Day 7: NYC Life

Ride the subway as close to work as possible

Clock in

Bus tables.

Smooth over problems with customers

Clock out.

Scarf something down as he ran to the library

Clock in

Shelve books. Take out the garbage.

Clock out.

Ride the subway home, make a quick dinner, pass out for five hours.

Rinse and repeat, except the one day his jobs aligned and he didn’t have any work. In which case, he’d sleep for half of the day, then renew the protection barriers. Then make dinner and pass out again.

“You’re running yourself ragged.”

Douxie yawned, pulling on his sweater. “Rent doesn’t pay itself.”

Archie jumped in front of the door. “Seriously, Douxie. If the order does find us, you’re in no condition to fight them.”

Douxie stepped over his familiar, walking out the door. “Yeah, well. Rent’s not going to pay itself.”

“Douxie!” Archie protested.

“Bye Arch see you tonight!” Douxie replied in a rush, closing and locking the door before the cat could continue his argument.

Clock in.

Bus tables.

Smooth over problems with customers.

Clock out.

Forgot to pack a lunch, run to the library.

Clock in.

“Douxie? Douxie!”

Someone shook his shoulder, and Douxie started awake at one of the study desks in the library, a few books open next to him. “I’m awake!” he yelped.

The head librarian, April, sat down next to him. “Are you okay?”

Douxie rubbed his eyes. “I’m fine, I’m just… tired.”

“Okay, why don’t you clock out early—”

“No! No,” Douxie replied more calmly, “Sorry, I just… I need the money.”

April shook her head. “You’re not any good to anyone half-dead from exhaustion, Douxie. And you need to sleep somewhere that isn’t a desk, so. Go. Home.”

Douxie clocked out and trudged towards the subway, face flushed. Archie would be so horribly pleased.

To merely exist

What sort of a life would that be, hm?

“Kid? Hey, kid!”

Douxie yawned, rubbing his eyes. “Ugh—not again!” he started up, dashing off of the subway. “Thanks!” he called back to whoever it was who’d woken him up. He spun in a circle, looking for a map that would tell him where he was. Hopefully he hadn’t gotten off the subway early.

Nope. A stop late. Fuzzbuckets. Fine. He could walk back—he had an extra hour, thanks to April sending him home early.

Douxie wandered through the streets, occasionally glancing at his phone to make sure he was headed in generally the right direction. A strain of music reached his ears, and he followed it to someone playing a guitar and singing, the case open, scattered change and bills dotting the bottom. Douxie watched as someone stalked towards the case, reaching down with a glance at the musician and snatching at one of the bills.

Douxie caught the thief’s wrist. “Why don’t you pick on someone with something to actually steal?” he said softly.

The thief dropped the bill, yanked away from Douxie, and ran for it. Douxie stooped down to put the dropped bill back in the case, digging around in his pocket and putting some of his tip money in the case. The musician gave him a nod.

“Thanks.”

Douxie grinned. “Artists have to help each other out. Best of luck.”

“You, too.”

Douxie finally made it back to the apartment he shared with Nari and Archie, and opened it to find them waiting, Nari with her arms crossed in a very bad attempt to be intimidating.

“You’re going to pick a day,” Archie announced, “You’re going to take it off.”

“Archie—”

“Or you will drop a few hours,” Nari continued, “You are working too much. We can find somewhere else to stay, we will eat less, we will find a way to earn money ourselves, but we are not going to let you keep hurting yourself.”

“But—”

“No buts,” Archie said firmly, “That’s final.”

“Oh, I don’t get a choice?”

“Right, then, let’s vote, all in favor of Douxie dropping a few hours or taking a day off?” Archie raised a paw, and Nari lifted her own hand into the air. “You’re outvoted.”

“But—”

“Shhhhh. Decision’s been made.” Archie nudged Douxie towards his mattress. “And now, you’re going to sleep.”

@einahpetsyarcip @moppetwithamanbun @ohfuzzbuckets